"Transference?" Elena braced her hands on her hips. "The Luminata was obsessed with my probable grandmother and now he's transferred that obsession to me?"
Aodhan nodded.
Laric wrote something on his notepad, held it out with a hesitant hand. When Raphael rather than Elena took it, his hand trembled. The kid was clearly intimidated by standing this close to an archangel. Just like Elena had once been--but she knew this man now, saw Raphael, not the Archangel of New York.
"This is no surprise after what we learned in the town," Raphael said, turning the notepad toward Elena.
The Luminata vow celibacy when they come to Lumia as initiates, but I think they do not all hold to that vow. I have seen mortals flown in late at night.
Elena wondered if those mortals came here by choice, was forced to admit the vast majority likely did--angel groupies were a serious thing. "I guess, technically, I'm your number one groupie," she said to her archangel.
Raphael raised an eyebrow, in pure Archangel of New York mode. "I should hope that to be the case."
An unexpected laugh built in her, faded all too soon. "Groupies or not, I can't forget the fear in the town, the way Majda was scared of being taken, what Riad's great-grandfather said about the Luminata's interest in 'the prettiest women and the most beautiful men,'" she murmured. "Clearly, they're not just scooping up the groupies. But why would angels need to coerce mortals when so many throw themselves at angels?"
Married or unmarried, single or in a relationship, it didn't much matter. Angels apparently didn't count when it came to infidelity--she'd heard that gem from a married hunter she'd met, a man who'd lusted after angels. This had been before Elena herself had become an angel and consort to one, but even then, she'd disagreed on a gut-deep level.
Fidelity was fidelity in her book. The end.
"For some," Aodhan said quietly, "it isn't about sex at all. It's about power."
His words made far too much sense given what they knew of the Luminata. "Taking and abusing and killing people to keep the town in line? Or just because they can? Yes, that fits with how the Luminata seem to operate."
"There is also the fact that a particular mortal who catches an angel's eye may not wish to play the game," Raphael said, a chill in his tone. "We both know a once-mortal who was coveted by an angel who would not take no for an answer."
Dmitri.
Elena sucked in a breath. She didn't know all the details, but she knew that Dmitri had been made a vampire by force by that same angel. "Yes." The word came out gritty, hard. "That means--"
"The woman with moonlight hair may well have been someone who said no," Raphael completed.
Red across her vision, Elena said, "Has enough time passed?" She wanted proof, wanted whoever was involved in terrorizing the town--likely the same people who'd made her mother an orphan--brought down.
"No. A little longer."
*
It was an hour later that Elena and Raphael exited their suite, the hallways of Lumia lit more softly than usual during this time of contemplation. They left Aodhan watching over Laric and Ibrahim, not trusting the Luminata to keep their distance should Laric be alone with the injured angel. From the careful way Laric had continued to monitor Ibrahim, Elena had the feeling the healer would fight to protect him--but he was small and weak, would only end up brutalized.
Aodhan had protested their going out alone, but he'd clearly been torn--he understood that Laric and Ibrahim were far more vulnerable than Elena and Raphael as a unit. In the end it hadn't been a long disagreement and he'd taken up a guard position outside the room, making it clear the two angels within were under Raphael's protection.
As for anyone--even several anyones--who tried to take on Aodhan, good luck to them. Elena had seen him in battle. Not only was he a beautiful demon with a sword, but he had that violent power in his veins that he could use to decimate parts of Lumia itself if he so wanted.
"You are smiling your lethal hunter angel smile."
Snorting out a laugh in surprise as they headed toward their ultimate destination, she punched Raphael lightly on the arm. "That was a good one." It made her grin when he continued to look icily archangelic on the surface. "I was thinking about how dangerous Aodhan is."
Raphael broke out his own scary smile. "Yes. No one but an archangel will get through him--and the majority of the Cadre is uninterested in this 'domestic drama.'"
"Neha?" They turned into a part of Lumia that faced outward.
A nod. "She returned to her suite when we got nowhere with our questions."
Lightning flashed in searing bursts beyond the windows and thunder reverberated through the air, but the hallways of Lumia were once more eerily empty. "When the Luminata retreat for contemplation, they really retreat."
"This way, Elena." He tugged her right when she would've gone left.
"Sorry, woolgathering."
"Your thoughts are on what lies beyond that hidden door."
Her skin pebbled, chilled. "Bodies," she forced herself to say. "I think we'll find bodies there. Men and women who said no and who were never seen again. Plus their spouses, lovers, fathers, or anyone else who dared get in the way of the angels." Exactly what had happened to Majda's husband.
Raphael's response was arctic. "If that is so, know that the punishment will be a final one."
"Not all immortals think us mortals matter in any way, you said that yourself." Because she was still mortal in her heart, would always be a mortal in her heart.
Raphael's hand closed over her chilled one. "Enough do," he told her. "Elijah, Titus, even Neha, will agree with my judgment should we prove abuse. Astaad has a more old-world view of mortals and may abstain from a vote, but I do not think he will speak against any measure I propose. Michaela is apt to speak for it."
She jerked up her head in disbelief.
"She may be many things, Elena," Raphael murmured, "but she is also a woman. Sexual violence against a woman or child in her territory is punishable by death--that is the only possible punishment. It is said her territory is the safest place to be a woman or child alone even in the very darkest corners of a city."
"Jesus, Raphael, I can't believe you're telling me something that makes me want to like Michaela."
"Do not worry, hbeebti, the urge will pass."
"I sure hope so." Feeling better now she knew Raphael wouldn't have to take a stand against the rest of the Cadre to bury these bastards, she realized they could no longer see the lightning, the thunder muted to an ominous rumble.
Not a surprise since they were heading deeper into Lumia, toward the Gallery. But as per Laric's information, they would take a hallway that split away from the main one to the Gallery. Before that, however, they passed the wall which had borne the painting of Nadiel. Whatever Tasha had said to the Luminata, the painting hadn't simply been covered over; it was gone, literally cut out of the wall.
In its place sat a hastily constructed mosaic.
"Was it there?"
She nodded at Raphael's flat question. "Don't try to track it down," she said, shooting him a glare as his wings began to glow. "You don't need to see it."
A pause, his jaw tight, before he inclined his head. "Once was enough."
And she knew he wasn't talking about the painting but the real event. Sliding her wing over his, she said, "Hey, don't go all Scary Raphael on me."
"Scary Raphael?" His voice held an immortal power that had awakened the Legion, the mark on his temple pulsing with wildfire and his wings continuing to glow.
"Ice and danger and scariness."
The ice began to thaw. "Your affection overwhelms me, hbeebti."
Chest no longer so tight, she winked. "You can call me Scary Elena. I'd like it."
Wings of white gold brushing against hers, the glow subsiding, Raphael nodded left. "There's our turn, my terrifying consort."
Elena grinned, but deep inside, she was cold, scared of what she'd find. "I don't want any more murdered women in m
y family, Raphael." It came out a painful rasp. "I've had enough."
39
The murders of her sisters and the effective murder of her mother--Marguerite Deveraux had never truly left the room where Slater Patalis had tortured her--was why Elena was so deeply protective of Eve, Amy, Beth, and little Maggie.
It squeezed her heart each time she held her sister's baby. Beth, sweet, sometimes feckless Beth, still carried hurt in her soul. But she'd named her baby not in sorrow, but in love. "So Mama, Ari, and Belle don't get forgotten," she'd whispered. "So they know we remember them. And Maggie, she'll know all about her grandmama and older aunts."
Marguerite Aribelle Deveraux-Ling.
Such a big name for such a tiny little girl. Elena would help her niece grow into that name, had already started teaching the two-year-old how to hold a weapon.
Those faux-weapons came courtesy of Sara and Deacon. Deacon had been building little Zoe baby-appropriate weapons for a while, and as Zoe outgrew them, they kept the painstakingly crafted pieces to pass on to friends.
Maggie was currently learning to bang things with a polystyrene hammer.
"I thought Beth would freak when I brought Maggie the first weapon, but she was so happy." It had made her realize once again that her baby sister bore more scars beneath her sunny personality than most people would ever know. "She said she wants her baby girl to grow up to be like me. Strong. So no one can hurt her."
"Your sister is a good mother."
"Yes, she is." Maggie was always full of smiles, a gorgeous little girl with a shock of silky black hair and sweet brown eyes who knew she was deeply loved. And who had been rocked to sleep in an archangel's arms more than once.
The first time Beth had asked Elena to babysit, her sister'd almost had a heart attack when she came to the Enclave to pick Maggie up, only to find her baby snuggled up happily in Raphael's arms. Beth was better about handling things now, but she still had trouble with the sheer amount of power that lived in Raphael.
Maggie, meanwhile, like all children, had no trouble at all.
Speaking of power . . . "Can you blast these walls open if we need to?"
"Yes, but if there is someone alive behind a wall, it could kill them."
Elena nodded, muscles tight. "So that's out." Even if there was a slim chance the area wasn't just a graveyard, she wouldn't risk going in with violence--the Luminata could be keeping captives, or just hiding their peccadilloes. "Any groupies who came voluntarily could've still been trapped in Lumia by the storm, been hidden away until they could be snuck back out."
"If the Luminata were indeed arrogant enough to bring these mortals here while the Cadre is in session," Raphael said, "then the entire Cadre will be united in any punishment. There will be no debate."
Elena needed no explanation as to why. It was all about respect and the chain of power. She wished immortals would simply treat mortal lives as important, but immortals had had millennia to build their prejudices; nothing was going to change that overnight, if ever. She was realistic enough to accept that and be satisfied that punishment would be meted out for any abuse.
"Did you hear that?" She froze, her head angled in the direction from which the noise had come. There it is again.
It sounded like wind whistling into the hallway from the outside--but they were deep inside Lumia. Communicating with a single glance, she and Raphael moved silently toward the sound . . . until it cut off with a clipped suddenness. As if the wind had been blocked. A door?
Possible, Raphael responded, the two of them continuing to move. The more interesting question is, who is moving about during the Luminata's time of contemplation?
Yes, they're very serious about that. So serious that all the good Luminata are shut up in their rooms, contemplating their personal luminescence, leaving the hallways clear for the ones who are interested less in luminescence and more in their own power over others.
Because this wasn't about sex or about the sadism that drove so many jaded immortals. These Luminata were drunk on power, on being able to live outside the boundaries set by their society--and at present, being able to flout those rules right under the noses of the Cadre of Ten. That had to be a rush. Far too addictive of a rush to abstain from regardless of the danger.
There is no door where Laric indicated it should be. Raphael crouched down in front of a wall, his hair gleaming blue-black.
As she watched, he tugged a downy inner feather from his wing and held it near the bottom edge of the wall. The delicate filaments didn't move. Rising, he did the same test two feet over. The movement was minuscule, but there should've been no movement in this corridor devoid of motion but for the two of them.
Sucking in a breath, Elena took the feather from him, slid it into a pocket. They wouldn't leave anything for those who might be coming or going to find--and she'd give the feather to Maggie, who loved to stroke them with her small, soft fingers. Zoe already had several of Raphael's in her growing collection. Do we go in?
From the sounds we heard, someone entered only moments ago. Raphael stared at the wall. No one exited or we'd have caught sight of them as they turned the corner.
Elena's pulse raced. She didn't want to wait, didn't want to give any more time to whatever evil was going on behind those doors. Because it was nothing good if it had to be so darkly hidden. We have to wait, she forced herself to say. We don't know how to get in and we can't risk harming someone by using your power.
Raphael nodded, but his gaze held unrelenting determination. Storm or bloodlust, we will not leave until we have the answers, hbeebti.
Swallowing her furious impatience, she satisfied herself--for now--by dropping a blade into her palm. We'd better hide so we can try to see how to get in.
Raphael smiled and opened his wings.
Her eyes widened. I am an idiot. Walking into his arms after he shifted to put his back against the opposite wall, she let him close his wings around her as she faced forward, her own wings against his chest. She couldn't feel the glamour, but she knew from the outside, they no longer existed. Good thing the Luminata didn't think to have security cameras. She'd checked.
Being hidebound is an immortal's greatest weakness. Raphael closed his arms around her shoulders, held her close to the muscled warmth of him, his scent so deeply familiar to her that it settled her on the innermost level.
He was hers. She was his.
And together, they were something far better than either one of them was alone.
Stroking the underside of his wings, Elena stared at the wall on the other side, willing it to open. She jerked when it did only five minutes later. The Luminata who walked out was the tall and thin one who'd been their guide the first night.
Gervais. Gian's best buddy.
His hood was off and he had a smile on his saturnine face that was more a smirk.
Pulling up his hood with spidery fingers, he glanced back over his shoulder and spoke in that rough voice she'd noted the first night. "You'd better hurry. You know he doesn't like anyone else inside when he goes into the special chamber to see his pet."
". . . got here."
"You should've come earlier. Of course, you can delay if you want to stay in there permanently."
A second angel huffed out, this one short and stouter than any angel Elena had ever seen. Angels just generally didn't carry any extra fat on their bodies--partly because of the immortal metabolism and partly because winged flight took serious energy. This one wasn't so much overweight as just really solid and round. Hard fat, she realized. A man who'd been fit but who'd let it go.
For that to happen to an angel, it meant he wasn't bothering to fly much.
Right now, his face was hot red and he was in the midst of pulling on his robe over what looked like a pair of pants and a tunic. "That's the quickest coupling I've ever had in all my centuries of existence."
Gervais clapped him on the shoulder. "Never mind. You'll have plenty more time once the Cadre has left us in peace. The slut
s and toys will spread their legs on command or pay the price."
Elena didn't realize she'd pulled out the knife she'd slid away until Raphael closed his hand over her wrist. Later, Elena. We will take care of them later.
Her body vibrating with rage, she somehow managed to keep her blade from leaving her hand. Then, as Gervais and the other angel walked away, the wall beginning to shut behind them, she and Raphael moved. Not so fast as to create a gust of air that would alert the two Luminata, but not so slow that they'd miss the door. And then they were in and at the top of a flight of stairs that wasn't as steep as it should've been.
The door shut behind them in smoothly oiled silence. However, what was a seamless part of the wall on the hallway side was clearly a door from this side. Having separated from Raphael so that they could move independently, she tucked her wings back tight against her spine. The staircase was easy to navigate side by side, the lights on the walls guiding their way.
And then they reached the bottom.
Raphael's fingers clamped on to her forearm. Since she'd begun to fling out that same arm against his chest in an unconsciously protective move, she figured they were even. Both steady now, they looked over the edge of the doorway into nothingness. The only way to tell that they were looking down a deep shaft dug into the earth were the lights placed a regular distance apart going down.
"We're next to the Gallery," she said, the words a whisper. "Why would the builders dig a hole but not utilize all of it?" This shaft was nowhere near the diameter of the Gallery--maybe a tenth the size--but it was significant. And while it had exposed beams, it was structurally shored up.
"I think it was to provide a back way for the archivists to enter different levels of the Gallery." Raphael pointed out what looked like an old door across the way, the wood a little warped and not appearing as if it had been opened anytime recently. "It may have been specifically created so the archivists could reach the final, hidden section without disturbing any guests in the Gallery."
Elena blinked. "This shaft is an angelic elevator?" Which meant that final level had once had a legitimate use, likely for handy Gallery storage as Laric had assumed when he saw the staircase.
"Aptly put." He turned to take her into his arms. "We arrive together."