“If you don’t manage to do that first.”
“I’m not going to die,” Eve interjected quietly.
The sound of clapping turned her head. Reed exited the elevator in an expertly tailored three-piece suit of graphite gray. The sheer perfection of his appearance—the faultless cut of his garments, the perfect combing of his inky hair, the sensual curve of his welcoming smile—took her breath away. “That’s my girl,” he drawled. “Don’t let them push you around.”
Alec pushed to his feet. “Eve was right. The tengu had no details and no scent.”
Silence gripped the room so completely Eve could have heard a pin drop.
“What do you mean, ‘Eve was right’?” Gadara bit out.
“When the tengu first attacked me a few days ago,” she explained, “I noted that he didn’t have any details. Alec and Reed both said my super senses hadn’t fully developed and that’s why I couldn’t see them.”
“‘Super senses’?” Gadara laughed.
“But obviously, they were wrong,” she continued. “Alec didn’t see anything last night either. You can’t tell me he hasn’t come into his gifts yet.”
Reed moved to the desk and leaned against it. “It’s never happened before. All of these centuries, millions of Infernals . . . It’s never been possible for an Infernal to hide its details. There has to be an explanation.”
“Such as?” Eve asked.
“Perhaps his details are a similar color to the stone from which he’s made.”
“Okay. Why didn’t he stink?” she countered.
Gadara made an odd noise, drawing all eyes to him. “Tell me everything that happened, Cain.”
Alec went over the events of the night before, finishing with the death of Mrs. Basso.
Reed moved from the desk to Eve and set his hand on her shoulder. “Were you close to her?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. I loved her.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“The police came,” Alec said. “They say the Nix has been killing for some time. If that’s true, why hasn’t he been vanquished?”
“The order did not come down, until today,” Gadara replied.
“That’s sick,” Eve said.
“It is the way we work, Ms. Hollis.” Gadara’s gaze was hard. “We are not vigilantes.”
“He’s killed at least a dozen people! We’re not talking about vigilantism. We’re talking about justice and protecting the innocent.”
“Do not lecture me,” Gadara said coldly. “You want to shed the mark and go back to your careless life. You do not give a damn about protecting the innocent.”
A slap in the face could not have affected Eve more. “Don’t make me feel guilty for wanting my life back.”
“It is one thing to be ignorant; it is quite another to deliberately bury your head in the sand.”
Reed moved to a spot a foot or so in front of her. “Don’t attack her for our own shortcomings.”
“We need to decide what to do about this,” Alec interjected, his stance widening and his arms crossing. The pose made him imposing, depicting him as immovable, stalwart.
“What do you suggest?” the archangel asked.
“Both of the tengu on the roof lacked details and smelled normal. The first question I have is whether or not Gehenna Masonry has something to do with it. Did they create both? If so, we know the source.”
“I pray we’re lucky enough to have this restricted to tengu,” Reed said.
Eve looked around at the grim faces of the three men. “Explain the possible ramifications of this to me.”
“We do not have enough Marks.” Gadara’s voice was weary. “We supplement with mortal labor, like the guards you met at the building last night. We also do business with mortals. If Infernals hid in that guise, there is no limit to the places they could go and the information they could obtain.”
“Infernals would have a tremendous advantage,” Alec said. “They’d smell us coming a mile away, but they could be completely under the radar. If they’ve created a mask of some sort, we need to eradicate it.”
Eve stood. “So we have to find out how they did it. We have to go to Upland, where Gehenna Masonry is.”
All three men looked at her.
“Not with the Nix after you,” Alec argued.
“And the tengu,” Reed added.
“Yes.” Gadara smiled like a proud parent. “You should go. The tengu seem to like you, Ms. Hollis, and the Nix has been assigned to a Mark, as of this morning. Right, Abel?”
“Right,” Reed said tightly.
“Bullshit.” Alec’s voice was a low growl. “This is too important to use as a novice training assignment. Eve is in over her head. You need to send someone more experienced.”
“Ah, but there is no one more experienced than you,” the archangel pointed out.
“Then I’ll go alone.”
“I have to concur,” Reed said.
“With who?” Alec snapped.
“You.”
Eve might have laughed at Alec’s blatant surprise, if the circumstances had been less somber.
“See, Ms. Hollis?” Gadara drawled. “Miracles do happen.”
She looked at Alec. “I can’t go home; I can’t face it now. And I can’t go to my parents’ house. If you leave for Upland, what will I do?”
“You can wait for Hank’s results.”
A dry laugh escaped her. “I’m not going back down there. The Infernals creep me out and some of the Marks are hostile. After I’m trained and can hold my own, no problem. Until then, no thanks.”
Alec frowned. “Hostile? What are you talking about?”
Reed drew abreast of her. “There is some jealousy in the ranks.”
“She must go,” Gadara said. “Once a mentor is paired with a Mark, they stay together until the Mark is self-sufficient.”
“Don’t start playing by the rules now,” Alec snapped.
“And do not presume to dictate to me, Cain. If you separate from Ms. Hollis, I will make that separation permanent and pair her with a mentor who will keep her close at hand.”
Eve’s hands settled on her hips. “No one’s buying your ‘following the rules’ line, you know. Why don’t you just tell us the truth?”
Gadara’s face split with a smile. “I want you to get your feet wet.”
“Whatever,” she scoffed. “I’ve gotten wet plenty of times in the last week.”
Alec cleared his throat. Reed grinned.
“You know what I mean,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” Gadara conceded with laughter in his deep voice, “Whether you believe me or not, I would like you to get your hands dirty. I want you to see firsthand what we do and why we do it, and I trust that Cain will keep you safe under his watch.”
I want you to get your hands dirty. Eve considered that statement carefully. Since Gadara didn’t strike her as being overly altruistic when his own needs were involved, his statement made her contemplate whether or not her acceptance of the mark was important in some way. And if that was the case, what could her rejection of it mean?
“That settles it, then,” she stated, determined to play the hand dealt to her until the end of the game. If Gadara insisted she go, she had to know the real reason why. And frankly, she wanted to go. There was a thrumming anticipation in her blood that was becoming all too familiar, a darkness like black velvet—soft, warm, and sensuous. She’d started the morning wanting a few hours of normalcy. Now she wanted to beat the shit out of something not human. Something that would give her a good fight, but wouldn’t leave any guilt behind.
“It’s not settled with me,” Alec retorted.
Reed exhaled audibly. “Just be careful, Eve.”
“What?” Fists clenching, Alec glared at his brother. “You’re going to agree with this? You pansy-assed motherfucker!”
“Screw you,” Reed bit out. “It’s what she wants.”
“I don’t give a shit. She doesn’t know better. She hasn’t been trained and she’s pissed off.”
“Um, excuse me.” Eve waved. “I’m right here. Don’t talk about me like I’m not.”
“Sorry.” Coming up to her, Alec pulled her into a bear hug.
Eve rested her hand against his abdomen and tilted her head back to look up at him. “We didn’t do so bad last night. We’re both still kicking.”
“You were almost splattered across the street like roadkill.” His tone was exasperated . . . and resigned. “How much worse could it have been?”
“This is not open to debate,” Gadara said. “Her handler and I are agreed.”
Alec’s head turned. He shot a killer glance at the screen. “You had better pray that nothing happens to her.”
“I pray every day, Cain. Can you say the same?”
Eve tugged Alec toward the door before the situation grew any more explosive.
“This isn’t a game, Eve,” he warned darkly as the elevator doors shut out the view of a somber-faced Reed. With his hands propped on the handrail, Alec leaned back and glowered.
“It is to Gadara.” Her mouth curved grimly. “But damned if I’ll play the part of the pawn without making some moves of my own.”
Reed watched Eve disappear behind the closing elevator doors, then he faced Raguel. “This is too serious for just one team to handle.”
“I am inclined to believe it is their synergy that is causing the problem, not a mask.” Raguel adjusted his tie. “I have a meeting with Steve Wynn in a half hour. I wish I looked as good in my suit as you do in yours.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re going to completely disregard what Cain and Eve told you?”
Raguel relaxed into his chair with a sigh. “You heard his story. He was as focused on Ms. Hollis as he was on the hunt.”
“So? He was doing his job.”
“Was he? Or is his heart ruling his head? There is a tremendous difference between happenstance and calculation. Cain hasn’t been trained.”
Reed felt a chill move through him. He knew deliberate obtuseness when he saw it. “You’re gambling with something so potentially damaging that I’m at a loss for words. I don’t understand why you’re not erring on the side of caution.”
“You want my job?” Raguel’s voice was dangerously soft. “Be my guest. Manage the situation as you see fit.”
“With what resources?”
Pristine white teeth flashed within the frame of coffee-dark skin. “With the ones you have at your disposal. I must function within my station. So, too, must you.”
“Your station is greater than mine.”
“Exactly,” the archangel hissed. “Do not forget that.”
The screen went black, leaving Reed in turmoil. He had twenty-one charges in total, including Eve. At any given moment, at least one of them was locked in combat that would lead to death—either the Mark’s or his or her prey. From the heavens, orders streamed down into Reed’s consciousness like water, forcing him to shift through the various threads. He assigned Marks to various hunts based on their experience, location, and a multitude of other factors, not the least of which was the needs of the firm to which he was assigned.
To his knowledge, no handler had ever thinned his charges by setting them on a task of his own design while relying on the others to pick up the slack. Doing so would weaken all of them. Some Marks were better able to handle specific Infernals than others. Assigning a less-talented Mark to the hunt because his more experienced team member was occupied by an unsanctioned task was so dangerous Reed couldn’t believe he was even thinking of it.
But what options did he have?
He could use an Infernal, either one presently working within the firm or one scheduled for vanquishing. He could offer a bargain—cooperation or death. Infernals were survivors; they would do whatever was necessary to keep their lives. But it was not his place to decide which Infernals were worthy of saving and which were destined to burn in Hell. As with his previous option—using Marks—Reed had no idea what the ramifications would be for reaching so far beyond his assigned duties, but he knew they would be dire. He needed someone farther up the food chain than he was. Someone to take the heat, if necessary.
He needed an archangel to assist him.
It wasn’t completely improbable. As long as he offered a perceived benefit, he could solicit help. Cain made devil’s bargains all the time.
Reed avoided the elevator and moved to the reception area instead. He paused before the desk of the elderly Mark who answered Raguel’s phones. “Do we have any visiting firms in the area or one scheduled to arrive shortly?”
The firms always kept each other appraised of visits. Putting two archangels into close proximity required greater security, plus they felt it was their due to be shown deference by whoever was visiting.
“The European firm sent seven Marks yesterday,” the secretary replied. “Sarakiel is scheduled to visit next week.”
Reed nodded grimly. “Thank you.”
Of course it would have to be Sara. God forbid his task should be easy for him.
As he prepared to shift from his present location to her office, Reed steeled himself for the task ahead. She’d want his blood.
It was true. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
It was a thirty-minute drive to Upland from Anaheim on a good day. To say the freeway traffic in Southern California was horrendous would be an understatement. Stop-and-go speeds added hours to most trips, and accidents often turned highways into parking lots.
Today wasn’t too bad because it was still early afternoon, not yet the time when most residents began their commutes home. Alec stared out the passenger window, the fingers of his left hand brushing back and forth over the denim that covered his knee. He was quiet, contemplative.