Still, she hesitated. “You sure?”
“I dare you.”
Reassured by the playful goad, she tracked his lazy movements as he hovered . . . and threw. He was gone before the knife left her hand. And she understood why Galen had called him a 166
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butterfly. Illium could move incredibly fast in a contained space, seeming to need little to no room or time to turn, zip in another direction.
Sweat was pouring down her face by the time she ran out of knives—her own and the ones Galen had given her. Illium blew her a kiss from his perch on a rafter. “Poor Ellie. Want a nap?”
“Shut up.” Wiping her face, she shook her head at Galen. “How the hell can he move like that?”
“They call his mother the Hummingbird.” Galen caught a knife Illium threw down, one of several that had lodged in various parts of the salle. “You have some skill—it"ll make it easier to get you to a point where you can consistently hit the neck.”
She rubbed her own throat. “Most vulnerable spot?”
A nod. “But that"s going to take time. For now, if you can pin or shoot an angel coming at you, you"ll disorient him long enough to run.”
A pause, and she realized he was waiting for a response. “I"m not too proud to run. My legs have kept me alive more times than you know.”
Those ice green eyes seemed to gleam with subtle approval, but that was probably wishful thinking on her part. “If you"re trapped in a situation where you have no choice but to fight, a good aim will give you a slight advantage.”
“Emphasis on ?slight." ”
Galen pulled a knife out of the wall, his biceps flexing. “You"re playing with archangels. Slight is an improvement on certain death.”
25
Jason stood across from Raphael on the balcony off Raphael"s office, the buildings of the Refuge spread out below.
“What have you learned?” Raphael asked his spymaster.
The tattoo on Jason"s face appeared complete, but Raphael knew that while the chunk of flesh that had been ripped out by one of Lijuan"s reborn had healed, the markings were only temporary, so as to betray no weakness. Jason was having the ink redone step by painful step.
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“She"s keeping a secret.”
Raphael waited. All archangels kept secrets, but for Jason to comment on it had to mean something.
“It"s a secret she appears not to have shared with anyone, but I think the Shade knows,” he said, referring to Phillip, the vampire who"d been with Lijuan longer than Raphael had been alive.
“He"s like a pet to her—she hasn"t forbidden him from entering the sealed room as she has everyone else.”
“Do you think you or one of the others can get a glimpse inside the room?”
Jason shook his head. “She has a ring of reborn around it night and day.” He touched his face.
“I"m fairly certain they"d tear any intruder limb from limb.”
Total dismemberment was one of the very few ways that might lead to the death of an angel Jason"s age. However, if the head was left whole, there was a chance of regeneration. “Have you been able to confirm how many of Lijuan"s reborn eat flesh?”
“It"s no longer the old ones alone—I saw a pack of younger reborn feast on the bodies of the newly dead,” the angel replied. “They did it out in the open.”
“So, she crosses another boundary.” It was one more indicator that her mind was no longer functioning as it should. “Tell me about this sealed room.”
“It"s in the center of her mountain hold, hidden deep within the core. The reborn roam all the corridors around it, and the ones that roam are the ones with eyes that shine—the ones who eat of flesh.”
“Do you have any idea what she might be hiding?” It could be nothing good, that much was certain.
“Not yet. But I"ll find out.” Jason resettled his wings. “I did as you asked and had Maya work her way into Dahariel"s domain. Something is going on, but whether it relates to the events at the Refuge, it"s impossible to say. There are rumors that Dahariel killed several of his vampires recently, but that could"ve been a legitimate punishment.”
“Have Maya remain where she is. I have people inside Nazarach"s and Anoushka"s homes.”
“If it does prove to be Nazarach?”
“I"ll execute him.” Nazarach ruled Atlanta, but only under Raphael"s grace. “Dahariel is the strongest of them all.” And the most coldly intelligent. Leaving that decapitated head in Anoushka"s bed was the kind of calculated threat Dahariel might make.
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“If it is him,” Jason said, “he"s begun to strike close to home—one of Astaad"s favorite concubines was found eviscerated yesterday. She was branded inside. All indications are that she was alive at the time.”
“So . . .” It seemed nothing less than death—brutal, merciless—would satisfy this would-be archangel now. “Astaad hasn"t informed the Cadre.”