Angel in Crisis
Page 17
Darell may have told them why they needed to wear platinum dog tags, but it was evident from their reactions that they’d never believed him. My guess was they only carried out his orders because he’d given them. I could see the looks of disbelief they shared before looking to their leader. When Darell merely folded his arms and gave them a look which said I was telling the truth, I could tell they still didn’t believe it.
I turned to the angels about to ask them to back me up, but I was greeted by a horrified silence. For one terrifying minute, I froze, waiting for my free fall from grace to happen, but it didn’t. I’d not sworn the covenant and my gamble had paid off. However, what I didn’t account for was the reaction I was getting. “Cupid, you need to help me out here,” I asked, keeping my attention on the room in front of me.
When I didn’t get a reaction, I looked over my shoulder, just in time to witness Cupid and Gabriel reappear in front of everyone. Several things happened so quickly, that I had trouble keeping track of what was happening. First, I think, Gabriel dressed in his usual combat attire, was asking Cupid what was so urgent then trailed off as he realized there were humans in the room with him.
About the same time, Darrel’s three men, startled and unsure what was happening, all drew their guns, aiming them at Gabriel, who moved almost as quickly to draw his sword. “Drop your weapon!” one of the men bellowed.
Instinctively, I stepped forward, while simultaneously pulling Joshua behind me. Darell yelled at his men to lower their weapons.
There were four whole tense seconds where I was sure someone was going to get shot, but the men did as they were ordered and lowered their guns. From the corner of my eye, I could see Gabriel do the same with his sword. “Would someone care to explain what is going on here?” he asked.
I looked at Cupid. He shrugged. “You asked for help.”
I raised my hands, my palms open, realizing that the whole room was frozen, terrified of making the wrong move. “Okay, let’s all take a breath and relax. I’m going to talk, you’re all going to listen, and then when I’m done, we’ll get to the questions. Understood?” For the most part, I was greeted with nods, though the lift in the tension was so small, it was barely noticeable. I focused on Darell’s men. “Right, as I was saying, angels exist, and you’re in a room with just over thirty of them. Oh, and the one that appeared then, is Gabriel. As in, that archangel Gabriel,” I added. One of the men hurried to holster his gun. I turned to Gabriel, who was regarding me evenly, rather than with the horror or even anger, which I expected. “That’s Darell, and he was Lilah’s charge. He’s here because a few hours ago, some kid broke into the convent, killed a potential,” I shuddered before I could stop myself. “He then tried to kill Joshua and me.”
This time, Gabriel’s eyes widened. “A kid tried to kill you? Why?”
“You missed that part too,” I muttered. “We don’t know yet, but when he’s been discharged from hospital, we’re going to find out.”
I looked around, and decided I was standing in the wrong place. Instead of continuing, I moved more to the corner of the room so that everyone was in front of me. Here, I folded my arms and took another deep breath. “Things around here are going to change,” I declared. “You’re living in the twenty-first century, but you’re not acting like it. Humans can suck. As much as you want to believe they’re all good, they’re not. We’ve got a long way to go before they stop sucking, and a lot of work we need to do. Work we can only do if we’re alive. Or undead…?” I looked to Cupid who rolled his eyes. “That might just be me, but the point is, we may be angels, but the Fallen have found a way to hurt us – to kill us – and they’re using humans to do it. So things are going to change, and they’re going to change quickly. Starting with security.”
“What’s wrong with our security?” one of the angels asked.
I laughed. It was dry and harsh, but I laughed. “What security? The only things you lock around here are the Yukons, and that’s only because they lock themselves automatically. We’re starting with the doors and windows, and you’re all going to have a key. I’ve also ordered enough mobile phones that when you go wandering off and we start to worry, we can call you. Eugene, I’m looking at you.” My hands dropped to my hips as I scanned the crowd. My eyes narrowed as I did another sweep, a knot of worry appearing in my stomach. “Where’s Eugene?” I asked slowly. When no one responded, I turned to Cupid, only to be met with the same look of fear I was sure was on my face. “He’s still missing?”
The knot in my stomach seemed to triple in size. Despite everything that had happened, I had forgotten about Eugene, and that was unacceptable. He’d now been missing for nearly twenty-four hours. There was no way he was still out looking for the damn chilies. I looked hopelessly at Cupid. I had no idea what to do.
It was Darell who offered a solution. “If what Lilah told me was true, am I right in assuming only the archangels know how to fight?” Cupid nodded. “Put this convent on lockdown. Only archangels will be permitted to leave. My men will be stationed around the perimeter, and I will have additional bodies here by midday. Leave the search to us.”
I shared a look with Cupid. Given his previous reaction to Darell’s suggestions, I thought he might protest. He didn’t. He nodded. “Very well.”
“What about our duties?”
I looked to the crowd, unsure where the question had come from. “For now, consider it a vacation.”
“If you want something to do, I will teach you some defensive fighting,” Cupid told them, much to my surprise.
“As will I,” Gabriel added.
“For now, it’s breakfast. We need to discuss things further,” Cupid finished, indicating that ‘we’ consisted of everyone but the angels. While the room broke up into rowdy chatter, Cupid led us to his office. Darell joined us moments afterwards, his men not with him.
I bypassed the couches and went straight for my desk, dropping heavily into the chair, and propping my elbows on the table top to cradle my head. “How could I forget about him?” I asked, directing my question at the wood in front of me.
“You can hardly be blaming yourself?” Gabriel asked.
I raised my head to find him watching me with his green eyes, dark, like Heineken bottles. “I almost had him yesterday,” I muttered.
“And then you found Xavier,” Joshua was quick to point out. “Who was murdered this morning.”
“There is no point in dwelling on these things,” Darell stepped in. “What is done, is done. It’s time to bring your angel home – home to a safe location.”
“I should be out there with you.”
Darell shook his head. “You should be doing quite the opposite. I’m here with the full service: we will do what we need to, so you can continue on with your lives without interruption. Whatever you would be doing, you continue to do.”
I chewed at my lip. “Eugene-”
“He has a point,” Cupid interrupted me, his brow furrowed. “If Eugene has been taken, he must be being held somewhere which has the ability to shield him from me, which means he’s probably in a trap. We don’t know enough about them,” he said, still frowning. “The last thing we need is you getting trapped in one too.”
“I guess,” I muttered. I heard what he was saying but I felt I should be doing more to look for Eugene.
“Don’t you have a ball to go to tonight, anyway?” Cupid added.
I looked at him in confusion. He nodded at Joshua, and I slowly turned. “The NOPD Winter Ball,” he said, quietly. “But given everything that’s happened, I would understand if you wanted to give it a miss.”
Before I could respond, Cupid spoke up. “Nonsense. We bought a dress and shoes. She’s going.” I opened my mouth to protest, but once more, Cupid beat me to it. “Joshua, will you still be going?”
He and Joshua seemed to share a silent conversation before Joshua nodded. “I promised Leon.”
“In which case, you need to protect your charge.”
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nbsp; I narrowed my eyes. “Cupid, what are you doing?”
Instead of responding, Cupid looked to the three other people in the room. “Would you give us a minute?”
“I need to head back to Italy,” Gabriel said. “I shall clear my schedule for the rest of the day and return in a few hours to start the training.” With an acknowledgement from Cupid, he disappeared. Joshua gave me a reassuring smile, before stepping out of the room with Darell, leaving Cupid and I alone.
“Your responsibility is Joshua,” Cupid told me. He stepped out from behind his desk and made his way over to mine. “My responsibility is this House and the angels in it.”
“I think we share that responsibility,” I told him.
He shrugged. “Maybe, but you’re my Second, which means, I’m also responsible for you. I want you to go to this Ball: you were looking forward to it, and I think a few hours with your mind off things will help.”
I shook my head. “Going out partying doesn’t seem right,” I muttered, lowering my gaze to my arm. It was still throbbing beneath the stark white bandages.
“Like I said, your responsibility is Joshua. He’s going to that Ball with or without you. If you want to go in that,” he waved his arm in disapproval at vest top visible above the desk. “You go ahead and wear that. Personally, I think the dress is a better option, but whatever you feel comfortable in.”
I wrinkled up my nose, knowing he was right about Joshua going anyway, and wondered if there was any way I could convince him not to go. I almost laughed at that idea. I hadn’t been able to stop Joshua doing much up until this point, so I highly doubted I had much say in this either. “Fine,” I conceded.
“If it’s such a chore, just go for a couple of hours,” Cupid suggested.
I didn’t give him a response. Instead, I stood and started for the door. “I’m going to follow up with Leon and that kid.”
“I’ll take care of things here. I’ll bring Paddy back and see what she’s found so far too,” Cupid added.
I left the room finding Joshua and Darell outside, in deep conversation. They stopped when I walked over. “I take it Cupid is free?” Darell asked.
“Yes,” I nodded. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’m sorry it was under these circumstances.” He shared a look with Joshua and then reentered the office.
“Did you make a decision?” Joshua asked.
“It doesn’t feel right, but I will go tonight.”
We started walking down the hallway. The building was quiet again. “The Forensics Team is in your room at the moment. Darell’s assigned one of the men to keep an eye on them, and then he will ensure that things are replaced today.”
We made our way outside, into the wall of heat and humidity. His car had been parked in the morning sunlight and was like an oven. I barely noticed it, but Joshua had the blowers pumping out the air conditioning at full blast. He pulled us out of the convent and started navigating the one way streets. “I take it we don’t have to wait for Tulane Hospital’s visiting hours?”
“We’re going to the morgue,” Joshua said.
I narrowed my eyes. “And what about the kid?”
“His name is Sean Cowen, and he was placed under a seventy-two hour psychiatric hold,” Joshua admitted. He glanced over at me, spotting the look of irritation I was most likely sporting. “Henry, on the other hand, sent a text message to say he had some results back on that bullet he took from Cupid.”
I said nothing, refusing to think too much about it. I wasn’t sure I could handle much more bad news at this point. Instead, I stared out of the window, not focusing on anything, and trying not to think too much. It was easy enough considering my throbbing arm was proving to be something of a distraction.
The journey to the morgue didn’t take long. Henry's secretary was expecting us, but that didn’t stop her from acting like our presence was an inconvenience as she rang through to the medical examiner. “You can go through,” she said, cradling the phone.
Henry was in his office, typing away on his computer, when we walked in. He acknowledged us with a bob of his head, continuing to type. I sank into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk, waiting impatiently for him to finish. He carried on, either oblivious to the glares I was sending at him, or choosing to ignore them.
Finally, he finished what he was doing, and then pushed his keyboard away from him. “You should know that I have taken care of Xavier’s body,” he started.
I stared blankly at him, not trusting myself to react. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I also wasn’t sure that I wanted to ask for any further details. Instead, I allowed myself to believe that Henry would be respectful to the body, not doing anything that was inappropriate (like dumping him somewhere that he would never be found), nor that he would do something that could cause further pain for his mother.
“You said you had some news for us?” Joshua prompted Henry. Either he didn’t want to know the specifics either, or he could sense I was ready to move the conversation in a different direction.
“Yes,” Henry agreed, not taking his eyes off me. “My contact in the lab has given me the preliminary report on the bullet used on Cupid. It’s a .45 ACP, which, I’ve checked against Melinda’s service weapon on record, and matches with the Glock 30.”
“I don’t understand what you just said,” I frowned. Guns had never been my thing – my basic knowledge stemming from the television. As far as I could tell, Henry was telling me that was the normal bullet for the gun.
“It’s exactly what we’d expect to find,” Joshua responded for him.
I was about to flash him a thankful smile, when Henry spoke up. “Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“What do you know about bullets?” Henry asked me instead.
I shrugged, growing impatient once more. “They kill people,” I responded, shortly.
“Most bullets have a copper jacket with a lead tip. These were different. Although my contact found traces of copper, the tip, the bullet, was not lead, but rather, was made from steel.” Henry looked to Joshua. “You’d be more likely to find a steel case; you would agree?”
Joshua folded his arms. “Sounds simplified, but accurate.”
“What if I said it wasn’t stainless steel?”
“I would say I still don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, and I’m not in the mood for riddles.” I strummed my fingers on the wooden arms of the chair, glaring stonily at Henry. I had an uneasy trust in Henry at the best of times: I was certain he knew more about the Fallen in New Orleans than he let on, but he was also helping us in his irritating way.
“Steel rusts. It makes bullets last a much shorter time,” Joshua explained for him.
I puffed up my cheeks, then blew out the breath. “She planned on using them sooner rather than later?”
“Maybe,” Henry agreed. “However, you said that Michael had been imprisoned in a trap – two sides of which were made up of train tracks?”
I closed my eyes. I was already feeling raw today. Talking about Michael was not something I was prepared for. “Yes” I said, hearing my own voice catch.
“Train tracks are made of steel,” Henry decided to point out, again, either oblivious, or choosing to ignore my discomfort.
“Given that they don’t rust, I’m guessing they’re made of stainless steel,” I said, opening my eyes to glare, once more, at the Angel of Death. “Having cleaned the cutlery in the convent enough times, I can also assure you that not only are they made of stainless steel, but I’m perfectly capable of eating my dinner without my fork and knife burning the skin off my hands.”
“I’m sure,” Henry said, his dry tone picking up on the sarcasm I’d laced mine with. “But there was also one other thing my contact found on those bullets: blood.”
I let out an impatient grunt and got to my feet. I’d had enough of this nonsense. “Considering you pulled it out of Cupid’s body, covered in his blood, this does n
ot even begin to surprise me.”
I took two steps towards the door before Henry stopped me. “He didn’t just find Cupid’s blood.”
I turned slowly. “Who else’s was it?”
“The samples were too degraded to tell who it belonged to. My contact was able to establish that there was in fact, at least two other samples, both of which were degraded, and older.”
“For God’s sake!” I yelled, kicking at the closest thing to me – a tall filing cabinet. My boot left a dent. “I haven’t graduated college and I’m never going to, not that it makes any difference because I was majoring in marketing.” A frustrated grunt escaped me as I turned and kicked the filing cabinet again.
“The blood was old,” Henry cried out. I stepped away from the filing cabinet and folded my arms. “We think it’s most likely, given the bullets had started to rust and the age of the blood found, that the bullets were coated in the blood first.”
I took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly through my nose, urging myself to calm down: frustrating as Henry could be, my frustration wasn’t aimed at him. “Did your contact discover anything else?”
Henry hesitated. Perhaps he thought I would kick something else if he answered incorrectly? I took a few steps back towards the chair, but I didn’t sit, instead standing beside Joshua who was regarding me equally as warily. “You asked me about the nephilim being killed in New Orleans: there have been another two deaths since then.”
That was another thing that had slipped my mind. I could feel all the anger being replaced with frustration. It was draining. I sagged against Joshua, feeling slightly better when his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I had more to discuss with Ty than I’d planned. “Would you forward those reports to Joshua?” I asked Henry.
“I’ll do it now,” he said, turning his attention to the computer.
“Thank you,” I muttered, the words landing on deaf ears as Henry focused on his task. I took it as our cue to leave and left the building, finding myself, once again in the hot sunshine. It did nothing to take the chill off my spine. Joshua watched me over the top of his car’s roof, and I fully expected him to say something about my outburst, but he didn’t. “You want to come to my place and read through these files with me?”