They ruled because they had power and weren"t afraid of using it to enforce their decrees. At that very instant, an example of that power landed in the garden—a full wing of angels led by Galen.
The red-haired angel walked directly to the fountain, and it was the first time she"d really had a chance to examine him. He looked, she was surprised to note, like a bruiser. Well over six feet tall, his shoulders were wide, his thighs thick with muscle, his biceps—one ringed by a thin metal band—that of a man who"d earned his body, and not through a workout in any gym. And his face—square jaw, sensual lips, the kind of mouth that made women think hot, sweaty, distinctly unangelic thoughts.
His eyes cut to the body. “You believe this is the vampire who took Sam?”
Shaking off her startlement at this angel who looked so very earthy, so very human, she nodded.
“He has the right scent and as far as I know, no one"s ever been able to mimic that well enough to fool a hunter-born.”
A curt nod, red hair aflame in the sunlight. “Give us room to dig him out.”
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Shifting back, she watched as they uncovered then removed the body, taking care to ensure they overlooked nothing. As she"d expected, the head was missing—beheading was the most efficient way of killing a vampire, followed closely by burning. Leaving Galen and his troops to check the fountain and the surrounding area for the head, she began to crisscross the garden. “No trail,” she finally muttered, staring at the now empty fountain. “Vamp was dropped from above.”
“Either the leader or one of his angelic followers.” Illium"s familiar voice, his wings the most vivid point of color in all the white as the angels who"d come with Galen left, taking the body with them.
Galen"s own wings reminded her of a northern harrier"s—a dark gray with white striations that only became visible when he spread them in preparation for flight. “The head isn"t here,” the red-haired angel began when there was a gust of wind, the powerful backlash of wings raking up the snow.
Elena felt her heart catch all over again as Raphael landed. “We found the head,” he said, his tone freezing the air around them. “It was left on Anoushka"s pillow, the sekhem branded on its forehead.”
Elena was quite certain the vampire must have been alive for that humiliation. His fear when he realized the jackal he worshipped had turned on him would have been agonizing—because he knew exactly what was coming.
“A jeer,” Galen said. “Aimed at Neha through her daughter.”
“Or a very clever double play,” Elena murmured, recalling the notes she"d read on Anoushka.
Intelligent, ambitious, and with several powerful vampires and angels in her court, she could have pulled it all off. But then, so could Nazarach and Dahariel.
“If she is a true victim,” Illium said, “how did anyone get that close? Anoushka"s guards are deadly.”
“No security is absolute. And it"s beginning to appear as if this angel laid his plans months in advance.”
“Jason?” Elena guessed.
A hard nod, Raphael"s hair blue black under the winter sun. “One of his men managed to get out a message from Charisemnon"s court—there"s no evidence of the girl-child ever crossing the border. Yet Titus is adamant he has proof in the form of a recording that was sent to him.”
It was Galen who spoke next. “Are we certain the one behind this is still in the Refuge?”
“The political games may well have been run from a distance, but these are too personal. He"s 120
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close, eager to see the results of his acts.” Raphael"s voice held a remoteness that scared her. The last time he"d sounded that distant, he"d ended up holding her above a spiraling fall, a being who might have dropped her just so he could listen to her scream.
Her blood a rush of thunder in her ears, she had to focus to hear his next words.
“Ignore the distractions. He may have begun this with the intent of proving his power, his entitlement to become Cadre, may have convinced himself these acts will lead to that goal—”
“—but really, the bastard just enjoys his sick little games,” Elena completed, her gut churning.
Because that kind of a sociopath? He wouldn"t stop until he was forced to stop. And he"d already shown he had a taste for children.
Chrome blue eyes met her own. “Our aim hasn"t changed. We hunt for the blood insult to Noel, to Sam. And for the renewed threat on Elena"s life.”
She blinked, feeling the sun"s increasing heat against her skin. “What?”
“A Guild dagger was jammed into the mouth of the head left in Anoushka"s bed.”