“So.” Neha’s voice was a blade, the Archangel of India’s view on the massacre unmistakable. “It was one of the Cadre.”
They were the only beings on the planet who could incinerate with that much power. It didn’t even necessarily require angelfire, not if the archangel was close to the target—a simple discharge of concentrated archangelic power would equal the same end.
“Why?” Astaad shook his head, clearly deeply disturbed. “He wasn’t Cadre yet, had no say in our politics.”
Raphael thought again of the scholar’s abduction and of Lijuan’s plans for Alexander. “Perhaps someone decided to get rid of a competitor before he reached maturity,” he said, careful not to give away too much—alliances were fluid things and someone in this meeting could well have formed one with Lijuan.
“If that’s the case,” Neha said in a silky whisper that dripped venom, “you had better watch your Bluebell to make sure his head remains attached to his body.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said in a bland tone that betrayed nothing.
Elijah stirred, stroking his hand over a small puma—perhaps a cub—who’d just climbed up to settle on his desk. “Only one of us is capable of such a heinous act.”
“You speak too soon, Elijah,” Favashi said in her soft, steely tone. “Any one of us could be taking advantage of Lijuan’s notoriety to make a power play.” She locked gazes with Michaela, who only smiled coldly. “Any one of us.”
They spoke for another ten minutes without coming to a consensus on the identity of the perpetrator. They did however make the decision to warn seven other angels who were the most powerful in the world once you took the Cadre out of the equation. Illium wasn’t on that list . . . but he should’ve been. Despite Neha’s acerbic comment, the others hadn’t yet realized the intensity of the spike in his power levels.
Switching off the connection after spending an extra few minutes in conversation with his mother, Raphael turned to Elena. She walked over to join him, the near-white of her hair pulled back into a ponytail and a blade moving through her fingers as she stared at the image he’d frozen on the screens—that of the spark-filled black ash in Titus’s hand.
“Favashi is right,” she said, slipping away the blade. “It could’ve been any of you, though personally I’d eliminate you from the suspect list.” Rising on tiptoe, she claimed a kiss that poured mortal warmth through him, melting the ice that had formed over the course of the meeting. “I’d also eliminate Caliane because your mom just wants to be left alone with her people.”
Raphael cupped her jaw, running his thumb over her cheekbone. “Elijah and I have been in nearly daily contact of late.” The two of them had decided to work together to defend this region against any further attacks. “Quite aside from the fact that my instincts say he is too honorable for such a cowardly act, I know he never left his territory.”
Stepping closer, Elena put one hand on his chest. “I don’t see Astaad and Neha doing this either.”
“Astaad prefers to stay out of conflict when he can, so I agree.” The Archangel of the Pacific Isles had only joined the coalition against Lijuan when the Archangel of China dared fly her reborn over his territory. “As for Neha . . . yes, she is a queen. She wouldn’t consider it honorable to ambush a weaker, younger angel in his home.”
“Michaela is looking surprisingly normal.” Elena’s eyes narrowed. “I expected her to have grown horns or something, the way she’s kept her head down.” She frowned. “Only . . .” Breaking contact, she turned to the main screen. “Does this thing record?”
“Of course.” He showed her how to bring up the recording. “You want Michaela?”