She no longer is. Remember.
Wrenching her anguish under vicious control, Mahiya wrapped the essence of Jason around herself as she followed him and Neha down the staircase and into a corridor lit with modern electric bulbs set in wall sconces that threw warm light on the stone walls. Many had burned out, while still others were swathed in cobwebs, a silent indication of how long it had been since anyone walked this passage. A hundred feet down the corridor, Neha revealed another staircase that went even deeper into the earth.
The lights here were naked bulbs, the corridor itself pounded earth . . . and the single room at the end a pit in the earth with crisscrossing bars that hid the shadowed realm beyond. Throwing out a hand, Neha lit up the cell with a blaze of violent power.
It was empty.
Mahiya swayed, would’ve fallen if Jason hadn’t grabbed her hand.
Mahiya.
I’m fine. Air rushed into her lungs as she took in a breath and thought about what she’d seen: the melted metal where manacles might have hung from the walls, the scorch marks around the hole in the bars of the cell. Whoever had rescued her mother had used a blowtorch to cut her free. Promise.
He released her before Neha could turn. How badly are you hurt?
Already healing. I just . . . this place.
She’d been half afraid they were wrong, that her mother remained trapped in this nightmare place. A creature meant for the skies kept so long in the dark . . . Her wings would’ve been wasted. She couldn’t have flown out of here.
It also means she was rescued far longer than six months ago. If I was asked to bet, I would say it was done when Raphael executed Uram. The world was in chaos, and Neha often had to be away from the fort on Cadre business.
A scream of rage splintered the silence, Neha spinning around in a fury that burned ice along one wall, fire along the other. Mahiya barely escaped being singed by the flames . . . and her step out of its path put her in Neha’s direct line of sight. The archangel’s eyes pinned her, cold as hell, and Mahiya knew she was dead.
Black shimmered in her vision until Jason’s wings were all she could see.
No, Jason, no! In this mood, Neha would execute him regardless of any other consideration.
“The information,” he said as she attempted to budge his shoulders, shove him out of danger. “Was it worth the price?”
A chill silence, the ice cracking and breaking to fall at their feet, the fire flickering out to leave the walls scorched, the corridor dimly illuminated by the single bulb that had survived. Neha’s laugh this time was inhuman enough to sour Mahiya’s stomach, and yet it held a certain amusement.
“Now I understand, Jason. You have a weakness for broken birds, and she would make a pretty hostage.” It seemed to please Neha, that justification. “Very well, you have admirably fulfilled the blood vow. Take this broken bird. Keep her, leave her in some protected aerie, it matters nothing. I have no need of a hostage when I can rend my beloved sister limb from limb with my bare hands.”
Mahiya’s knees almost crumpled, only her grip on Jason keeping her upright. I’m free . . . and my mother is about to die.
37
Dmitri handled several pieces of Tower business, clearing as much of the decks as he could from a distance, including a situation that meant sending a senior angel out of state to deal with another angel who thought to create himself a fiefdom free of Tower oversight.
That done, he spoke to Ilium. “Anything else urgent we need to clear?”
“No, Aodhan should have time to settle in.”
“Good.” Dmitri was conscious the angel would be out of his element, but confident he had the capacity to step into Dmitri’s shoes—to a certain extent. Aodhan and Illium were both much younger, had less experience, but together, they were a dangerous force. “You know how to get hold of me if you need me.”
“Dmitri.” Golden eyes fringed with black lashes tipped in blue met his. “Take care of Honor. I promise I won’t burn down the Tower in your absence—I don’t know why everyone got so excited about a little smoke.”
Aware the blue-winged angel was attempting to lighten his mood, he said, “I’m reassured. Let me just call the fire department.” He signed off to Illium’s laughter and glanced over his shoulder to check on Honor as he did a thousand times through the day.
He’d moved his desk into the bedroom, was never away from her for longer than a few minutes at most. He didn’t ever want her to rouse alone. With the toxin wreaking havoc in her bloodstream, she might panic, be afraid.
“Will you be here when I wake?”
“Always.”
Only once he was sure she was safe, her breathing steady, did he force himself to return to his work, the trees beyond the window rustling under the playful caress of the wind. Two more days until he could wake her, until he could hear her voice again. Two more days.
38