Eve of Destruction

by S. J. Day

  “Yes way, little brother.” Cain’s tone was so smug, Reed wished he was nearby so they could talk with their fists.

  “Then shift over here and deal with the colonel yourself!” Reed hung up, his mind whirling.

  Cain’s mal’akh gifts had been curbed. He couldn’t shift from one location to another in any celestial way. His wings were clipped and discolored a dark, inky black. Why would he be given the power to rule a firm when he couldn’t be trusted with an angel’s gifts?

  It was so unreasonable, Reed couldn’t believe it. Cain was a nomad, a wanderer, a sociopath. Aside from Eve, Reed couldn’t recollect anyone whose feelings Cain had put before his own. How could he be charged with the safety of millions of people?

  And why in hell did he sound so damn pleased about it?

  CHAPTER 14

  Alec briefly considered redialing his brother, then thought better of it. Abel would need to digest the state of affairs for a while. The dig about shifting was a knee-jerk reaction. All the archangels were stripped of their powers except for seven weeks of the year. They managed without them; so would Alec.

  He dialed 4-1-1 instead and requested the phone number to the commandant’s office. A few minutes and connections later, he was told that the colonel had left for the day and wouldn’t be available until tomorrow.

  “Shit.” He needed a Plan B. After considering his options, he called Hank.

  “Cain!” The coarseness of the answering voice was reminiscent of Larry King, yet Hank’s true gender was a mystery. An occultist who specialized in the magical arts, Hank was a chameleon, changing form and gender to suit the client. The only things that never changed about Hank was the flame-red hair and head-to-toe black attire. Those were staples.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Hank husked.

  “Death and destruction.”

  “Sounds like my kind of party.” Hank made a choked noise, then shouted, “Be careful loading that box! The contents are irreplaceable.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “At the Monterey Municipal Airport in Northern California. Raguel called me up here. I had to bring my equipment, so I was forced to fly. Can’t expect Marks to understand how important my gear is. If I left it to them, they’d break everything in transit. Even loading up the rental van seems to be too much for them.”

  Alec considered Hank his favorite Infernal. In the dozen centuries or so since Hank joined Raguel’s team, the demon had proven to be extremely helpful. “Who’s with you?”

  “Two investigators from the Exceptional Projects Department and two guards.”

  Alec exhaled with relief, then explained the situation as it now stood.

  “I know,” Hank said. “I felt it the moment Raguel was gone.”

  “How?” After noting the complete lack of celestial reaction to Raguel’s disappearance, Alec was more than startled to hear that an Infernal had sensed what no one else appeared to.

  “We’ve been working together a long time. He bonded with me just as he has to all the Marks who work for him.”

  Alec reached a hand out to the wall, bracing himself against what he considered to be an earth-shaking revelation. “Do all Infernals working for archangels bond with their firm leaders?”

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Holy shit. Infernals bonding with archangels. Sharing information. Seeing how each other’s minds worked.

  Shaking off his astonishment, Alec went back to the original point of his call. “When you get to McCroskey I need you to report all of your findings to me in real time. Don’t wait for an official report.”

  There was a short pause, then, “Have you stepped into Raguel’s wings?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “You give orders like an archangel, my friend. But you do not sound like one.”

  Archangels had a unique resonance to their voices that inspired both awe and capitulation.

  “Roll with me on this,” Alec said.

  “As you wish. I look forward to seeing your lovely girl again.”

  “Keep her out of trouble for me, will you?”

  “And away from Abel?” Hank purred. Working for the good guys didn’t mitigate the innate desire Infernals had for chaos and conflict.

  “That, too. Call me when you know something.”

  “Will do.”

  Alec hung up and headed into the adjoining room’s bathroom. He stood over Giselle and called out, “Wakey wakey.”

  The Mare didn’t budge.

  Alec turned on the faucet. He filled his cupped palms with the flowing water, then dumped the whole of it on Giselle. As she sputtered and lurched into a seated position, he backed up swiftly. Her attempt to swipe at her eyes was arrested by the handcuffs, resulting in a yanked arm and a string of muffled bitching.

  He crouched beside her and pulled the gag down to hang around her neck. “Sweet dreams?” he asked, smiling.

  She glared at him through wet, spiky lashes. “What did you do that for? I wasn’t finished.”

  “Yeah, you were.”

  “You suck, Cain,” she grumbled. “Totally suck. Get me out of these cuffs.”

  “I need you to draw a layout of Charles’s compound. You gonna give me a hard time?”

  The petulant curving of her lips changed to a bright smile. “Does this mean I don’t have to go with you? I’ll draw you the best map ever. Then I’ll just wait here for you to finish and we can drive—”

  “I need some blood, too.”

  “—down to Anaheim and—” Giselle’s blue eyes widened. “My blood? After you chained me to a bathroom sink? You’ve got to be—”

  “Okay.” Alec pushed to his feet with a dramatic sigh. “Have it your way.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get my knife. If you don’t squirm, it might not scar too badly.”

  “Wait!” she called after him, the handcuffs rattling against the pipes. “Let’s talk about this some more. You didn’t give me a chance to think. You can’t wake a girl up in the middle of a meal and expect her to be fully coherent.”

  He stood just outside the door with his back to the wall, smiling.

  “Cain! Damn you,” she complained. “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? This is not the way you’re supposed to treat guests!”

  Backtracking, he kneeled at the sink and pulled the cuff keys out of his pocket. “When you’re an uninvited guest, all bets are off.”

  He released her and stood.

  Giselle rubbed her wrist, then she held out her hand to him for assistance gaining her feet. Her blonde hair was a mess from both the handkerchief and bed head, but the look was a good one on her. “This floor is hard and cold.”

  “If you hadn’t wiggled so much, you might have been somewhat comfortable.”

  “You shouldn’t cuff people to pipes!”

  “Don’t make me gag you again.”

  “You are really not a very nice person.”

  “Says the demon who gives people nightmares,” he retorted.

  “I have to eat!”

  Alec preceded her out of the bathroom. He went to the nightstand and withdrew the hotel letterhead from the drawer. Setting it on the tabletop along with the provided pen, he said, “Draw. Now.”

  “Go. To. Hell.” But she plopped onto the edge of the bed and caught up the pad. Her hand began to push the pen across the paper. “It’s a gated community. I don’t see how you’re going to get past the guards. You stink.”

  Alec opened the backpack he’d set on the other bed and pulled out a bottle of body wash. The contents had already been laced with an anticoagulant. He just needed some Infernal blood to add to the mix.

  “You’re going to fix that.” He faced her.

  Giselle’s eyes dropped to the syringe in his hand. Her mouth fell open. “Uh . . .” She swallowed hard. “I’m afraid of needles.”

  “It will only pinch a minute.”

  She shook her head violently and stood. Th
e pad dropped to the floor. “You don’t understand. The sight of blood makes me vomit.”

  Alec’s brows rose. It figured that he would end up with the one demon who had a gore complex. “You don’t want to find out what happens if you puke on me.”

  “Then don’t stick me with that! What kind of sick torture is this?”

  “You know damn well what I’m doing.” He gestured to the bed with a jerk of his chin. “Sit down.”

  “Can’t we have sex instead?” she suggested, setting her hand on her hip and trying to look seductive. “You’ll smell just as nice, and it’s less painful.”

  “For you maybe. Now sit.”

  Giselle opened her mouth, but the look on his face must have warned her off. She dropped back onto the bed and held out her slender arm, turning her face away.

  Alec kneeled and said, “I’m good at this. It’ll be over before you know it.”

  She kept her head turned. “People only say that about things that last forever.”

  “Count to twenty.” He secured the tourniquet. As always, he took a moment to absorb the similarities between them—the beating hearts, the pumping blood, the fragile shell of their skin.

  “Ett, två,” she began, shivering as he tapped the inner fold of her elbow with his fingertips, “tre, fyra—”

  Alec slid the needle into a plumped vein.

  Giselle screeched and jumped to her feet. Her knee struck him in the chin, sending him toppling backward into the neighboring bed.

  He started to laugh, then pain lanced his brain like a white hot poker. Clutching his head, he yowled in agony.

  She screamed, too, then smacked him on the shoulder. “You scared the shit out of me! What are you doing yelling like that?”

  Falling onto his side, Alec curled into the fetal position.

  “Oh, please,” she muttered. “Drop the drama. I barely touched you.”

  Acid pumped through his veins, eating its way through his system from the inside out. Tears burned his eyes and his throat clogged.

  “Are you serious?” Giselle prodded him with her foot. “Cain. Are you bullshitting me or not?”

  Alec’s back arched and his frame tautened like a bow. He writhed in torment, his bones altering with such alacrity he felt as if he were being ripped apart.

  “You’re not kidding,” she breathed, standing over him. “I really did a number on you.”

  If he lived, he was going to kill her.

  “This could save my ass!” Giselle clapped her hands. “I can tell Sammael that I didn’t return to Hell because I had a shot at knocking you out of commission! This is perfect. I’ll be a hero. Charles is going to be sick with envy. A Mare taking out Cain of Infamy. Who’d have thought?”

  He grabbed her ankle and squeezed. Hard.

  “Ow!” She yanked her leg free. “You’re hurting me in your death throes.”

  Heat pooled in his belly, scorching and heavy. It began to radiate outward, lengthening his limbs and extending his fingers and toes. Pulled like a victim on a medieval rack, Alec was ready to pray for death when he felt Eve moving through him. As solid as the pain and just as intense. Phantom arms embraced him, calm and cooling. He struggled into her, grasping at the ethereal feel of her as a drowning man would a lifesaver, dragging her into the anguish with him.

  Alec. Her voice. Filled with worry and growing alarm.

  Eve began to panic as she sank deeper into his pain, but he couldn’t release her. His instinct to survive was too powerful.

  His body began to convulse and Giselle screeched. She leaped over him and rushed to the door.

  “Stay.”

  It was his vocal chords that created the sound, but the voice wasn’t his. What he heard was deeper, darker. Resonant.

  Giselle froze with her hand on the knob.

  Insanity lapped at Alec like waves of dark, cool water. He sank beneath the surface with Eve in his arms, his body a prison of torment.

  Cain!

  Alec jerked at the sound of Abel’s roar—a reverberating bellow of fury in the still darkness of his mind. Eve resumed her struggles with renewed vigor, reaching upward with flailing arms and gaining purchase. She was ripped from his embrace and pulled away, too far to reach her despite Alec’s clawing attempts.

  Like a firefly in the darkness, she flitted away. He followed her upward through the suffering of his body, then through the more painful ache created by the knowledge that she was connected deeply enough to his brother to be stolen away.

  Then his misery was gone as quickly as it had come.

  Peace enveloped him, soothed him, relaxed every muscle and tendon, loosened the fist of heartbreak that tightened his chest.

  His eyes flew open. The ceiling was lowering to him.

  No, he was rising toward it. Levitating.

  The roaring of blood in his ears faded to the background and pitiful sobbing filled the gap. He straightened from his prone position, his feet aimed toward the earth, his head pointed toward the heavens.

  Shrugging off the lingering tension with a roll of his shoulders, Alec’s wings burst free. His feathers were black as night—as they had always been—but now tipped with gold.

  “My life sucks,” Giselle cried, drawing his attention. She sat crumpled by the door, her lovely face wet with tears.

  Alec smiled, reveling in the power that flowed through him like an electrical current. His feet touched down on the carpeted floor and he stood a moment, soaking up the flood of knowledge that poured into his consciousness. What was most pleasant, however, was the tranquillity he felt. His emotions no longer ruled him. In fact, he scarcely felt them at all.

  “Sammael will never take me back now.” Giselle sniffled and scrubbed at her running nose. “I’ve turned Cain of Infamy into an archangel.”

  Eve jolted as the doorway between her mind and Alec’s slammed shut with violent finality. Drained and devastated, her knees gave way, but she was caught by strong arms and held tightly. The scent of Reed’s skin drifted across her nostrils and brought her back to herself.

  Her back was to his front, his lips at her ear. She blinked and recognized the interior of the girls’ side of the duplex.

  “What the fuck was that?” Montevista’s gaze darted between both of them. “One minute we’re having a conversation and the next, you two are off in some kind of zombie trance!”

  Gasping, Eve’s hand lifted to her shirt. She’d half expected to find it dripping wet, but it was bone dry. The sensation of floating on an inky sea had seemed so real . . . And mind-breakingly terrifying.

  “Something awful just happened to Alec.” She broke free of Reed’s hold and faced him. “We have to find him.”

  Reed’s face was set into an unreadable, yet ominous mask. His dark eyes were cold, his lips hard. “He almost killed you.”

  Hearing the words said aloud was a shock to Eve’s system. Although their connection had felt that way, she couldn’t believe that had been his conscious intent. “He would never hurt me.”

  “He’s not the same person anymore, Eve.”

  She frowned, fighting off the lingering fuzziness in her brain. “What do you mean?”

  Reed’s jaw tensed, then, “He has been promoted to archangel.”

  “Huh?” Dread sank like a heavy stone in her gut. “How is that possible?”

  “Raguel is gone. Alec was tapped to step into his shoes.”

  “Alec?” Her arms wrapped around her middle. “How do you know . . . ?”

  “He told me,” he bit out. “He’s never given a shit about anyone in his life, and now he is responsible for caring for thousands of Marks.”

  Eve had no idea how she was supposed to react. What did this mean? What would happen to her and Alec now? She pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed Alec.

  Sydney called out from her position on the stoop. “A van just pulled up.”

  Outside, an automobile horn honked twice.

  “Reinforcements?” Eve asked, frowning when she reache
d Alec’s voicemail.

  A cell phone went off, its ringtone a Paul Simon song that Eve couldn’t quite place. Montevista dug into his pocket and withdrew a sleek silver smartphone.

  “That’s Raguel’s,” Reed noted.

  “Yes, it is.” The phone fell silent. However, the caller ID was apparently still visible on the face, because he said, “Hank’s here.”

  Eve hurried toward the door. Just as her foot stepped over the threshold, she paused, causing Montevista to bump into her from behind. She tripped but caught herself on the partition that framed the back of the cement porch step—the twin to the one she’d tackled Molenaar through on the boys’ side.

  “Are you all right?” the guard asked, frowning. “Maybe you should take it easy.”

  “Where are the Infernals?”

  He blinked. “Which ones?”

  “The ones Gadara brought with him. The faery, the dragon, and the gwyllion. And whoever else there might be.”

  “It’s just the three. The faery can work with any glamour.”

  “Where are they now?”

  “They’re staying in a house around the corner.” He gestured in the direction of Anytown.

  “Why aren’t we using them?”

  “We are. They’re helping my team with the bodies.”

  The mention of “bodies” made Eve shiver inwardly. “What are they doing with them?”

  “Field autopsies.”

  “You brought equipment for that?”

  His look was wry. “That’s why we’re using the Infernals.”

  “Gotcha. Where is this happening?”

  “In Anytown. Lots of space, no public access, and it’s near the scene of the first attack, which was still being examined at last check-in.”

  Reed brushed past them and headed out to the driveway.

  “Have you looked over the area yourself?” she asked.

  “A cursory inspection, but my job is to stay with Gadara.” A cloud passed over Montevista’s blunt features. “My job was to stay with him.”

  Eve touch his biceps gently, imparting silent comfort. She still didn’t know the whole story about what happened to Gadara, but she would be there when it was explained to Hank and could catch up then. With that in mind, she started moving again. Montevista fell into step beside her.