Sammael snapped his fingers and Raguel found himself contained in a cage suspended over the fiery pits of h.e.l.l. Smoke, ash, and heat billowed upward and wrapped him a coc.o.o.n of torment. But what was worse was the dead s.p.a.ce inside him that he hadn't noticed while consumed by fear. For all of his life, his mind and heart had been filled with a steady influx of orders from the seraphim, reports from handlers and mentors, and the occasional comment from Jehovah himself-new a.s.signments for his Marks, reports and receipts, commentary and encouragement. It had sounded like the faint buzzing of hundreds of flies, a steady hum that was the rhythm of his existence. The beat to which he marched, the tempo of his heart, the cadence of his life. The sudden awful silence within him was like a yawning black hole.

Discarded. Forgotten. Expendable.

Raguel sank to his knees and cried.

Azazel approached his prince, his face schooled to impa.s.sivity so as not to give away his surprise. He would not have expected his liege to act so boldly in regards to the archangel Raguel. Terror and temptation were expected. Torture and imprisonment were not.

He looked at the fallen h.e.l.lhound and shook his head at the loss. "The boy is a loose cannon. He is a danger to us all."

Sammael smiled. "He thinks he is invincible and who can blame him? He was at ground zero in an explosion that took out an entire city block, yet he lives to cause more trouble."

"I request permission to kill him."

"Kill him? He walks among Marks as one of them. The glamour he wears is so perfect none suspect him. If he pulls this off, he will prove that we are being too cautious."

"He is an abomination," Azazel said. "I would celebrate that fact, if he were not also an idiot."

"When his time comes, you may have him." The prince stood. "In the meantime, we have many successes to relish. Our position has not been so favorable in a very long time."

Azazel shifted with unease. "Will you keep Raguel, then?"

"No. I will hold him only long enough to despair and doubt his faith. The rest he will do to himself, because of jealousy and resentment. It is more fun that way."

"Cain's advancement could be quite a coup for you," the lieutenant agreed. "You might consider telling him the truth."

Sammael laughed. "I am still waiting for his mother to do the honors."

"After all these centuries? I doubt she intends to."

"The time will come," Sammael said, his gaze dreamy and his thoughts on some future Azazel could not see.

"When it does, all h.e.l.l will break loose. What a day that will be, my friend. What a day."

CHAPTER 16.

Alec didn't shift directly into the Grimshaw compound. Instead, he paused at the convenience store across the street and studied the main entrance from a safe distance. He breathed with concentrated steadiness, willing his system to become accustomed to his long-repressed mal'akh power to shift from one location to another.

From the exterior, the Charleston Estates gated residential community looked like many others. A fountain occupied the center of a circular drive. A guard station stood at the entrance. A tall stucco fence surrounded the entire perimeter, providing privacy for the homeowners inside. Mature trees dotted the winding streets, providing shade and an exterior appearance of tranquillity. While the developer's brochure listed some upscale amenities-tennis courts, a helipad, and a concierge house-there was nothing to proclaim it as the domain of the Black Diamond Pack. But every single resident was a wolf under Charles's command. It was ingenious, actually. An ideal way to keep tabs on his subordinates . . . and to ensure that secrets stayed secret.

Like the Lebensborn-2 program.

Thanks to Giselle, he had a fairly thorough map of the community in his mind. The Mare was frightened by his transformation to archangel and equally wary of what would happen if he were to be captured with the motel room key on his person. She would not fare well if Charles found her in the possession of Cain the Archangel. It wasn't a risk she was willing to take, so he trusted that the map she drew him was as correct as she could make it.

The question now was whether he should go to the kennel first and kill the h.e.l.lhound pups, or whether it would be wiser to take out Charles, then deal with the Alpha's mess. He glanced at his watch. It was quarter after two. Forty-five minutes until the conference call. This might have to be a reconnaissance mission. Get the lay of the land. Get out. Come back later.

But he'd much prefer to strike during the day when the wolves least expected it, when they were at their laziest and most vulnerable. Maybe he would blow off the conference call instead. The other archangels weren't expecting him. It might be better to allow them time to adjust to his new role. The sooner he finished this task, the sooner he could return to Eve. That was still his motivation, although it was a conscious decision rather than an emotional compulsion.

He felt her. Tangibly. As if she stood beside him with her hand in his. But in reality it wasn't his hand she was holding, it was Abel's. He felt no personal response to that, a lack of reaction that made him feel like a stranger in his own skin. Worse yet, in lieu of his own feelings, he felt Abel's-a brutal, covetous, consuming l.u.s.t for Eve that fed off Alec's connection to the hundreds of Infernals under Raguel's command. The ties to the demons were thready, but what he did absorb was cool, dark, and very seductive. Alec could only conclude that just as the Novium found a loophole around the lack of physical response, his brain was finagling around the lack of emotional reaction. It was telling him that Abel's feelings for Eve were his, not his brother's.

In short, he was screwed.

Instead of the peaceful disa.s.sociation archangels enjoyed, he felt the frustration and l.u.s.t that were Abel's. Mixed with the confusion and heartbreak Eve was experiencing, Alec was suffering like a teenager with a megadose of p.u.b.escent hormones.

It wasn't supposed to be this way; archangels were serene. But Eve's Novium was throwing a wrench into everything, along with the fraternal bond between him and Abel, her affection for both of them, their pressing desire for her, and the triumvirate of mentor/Mark/handler. The whole mora.s.s was completely unique, creating an environment that fostered an anomalous connection that had to be addressed as soon as possible. With the overwhelming influx of information pouring into him from both the seraphim and Raguel's Infernals, Alec didn't have the energy left over for . . . angst. He felt as he suspected schizophrenics might, with hundreds of voices in his head telling him what to do and when to do it, while his own mind was telling him that Eve was still important to him no matter how he felt. Or didn't feel, as the case may be. Archangels weren't supposed to experience romantic love. With everything else they dealt with, they weren't equipped. They were kept detached by the hand of G.o.d, which is why they were discouraged from using their powers. The restriction was the most efficient way of cultivating the sympathy for mortals and Marks they would otherwise be incapable of feeling. But they had an advantage he lacked: they didn't know what they were missing. It was easy to turn down something when you'd never had it. Far more difficult to resist something you were addicted to. While he didn't feel the urge for a fix any longer, he still remembered what it felt like to be high and the sensations filtering in from Abel and Eve kept the memories potent.

"Eve."

He wanted to reach out to her, but was afraid to. The connection to the Infernals had . . . awakened something. Like a hidden coiled serpent unwinding from its den and making its presence known. Alec was forced to feel Eve's turmoil without the ability to comfort or explain.

Until he finished here.

Alec supposed he could a.s.sign a Mark to the task of killing Charles now that he was no longer a Mark himself, but he didn't. Charles had killed Eve because of him. He would, therefore, be the one to avenge her. The kennel was where he decided to start. He could use the death of the pups as psychological warfare. Fear of Sammael's retaliation would knock Charles off his game and give Alec another advantage. With luck, that would add a layer of unrest to Charles's last day here on Earth and added torment when he returned to h.e.l.l.

Alec shifted to the far side of the building, which was built off of the red-tile-roofed community center in the very heart of the compound. Children played in the nearby Olympic-size pool. Adults basked on white plastic loungers in the sun. It was a demon's paradise and its existence was one of the reasons why Charles's wolves were so loyal to him. It was also a warning to Alec-everything breathing within a two-mile radius wanted him dead with a vengeance.

Reaching the rear double doors, which were made of reinforced steel, Alec attempted to shift inside and was prevented by a ward of some sort. He would have to get inside the old-fashioned way. He tried the levered handle and found it unlocked. He was slightly surprised, despite how difficult it would be for anyone with a nefarious purpose to get this far without detection. A camera was trained at the doorway, but it wouldn't register him. Secular technology was good, but it wasn't capable of registering beings functioning on a different plane, such as archangels using their full powers. Which meant it was there to catch Marks and mortals. The question was-was it catching them going in, or running out?

A sense of foreboding tightened his jaw. He depressed the handle with his thumb and the lock gave way without a sound. He cracked the door to look inside and was immediately a.s.sailed by the sweet odor of Marks and the cacophony of multiple creatures protesting their confinement. The building was soundproofed.

Peering through the narrow slit between the two doors, Alec took in a long hallway that made an uninterrupted line to the other side of the building. A stocky wolf in human form stood an arm's distance away with his back to him. Alec waited for the guard to scent him. When the wolf pivoted and attacked in half-form with claws and canines extended, Alec jerked the door open and lunged for the guard's throat. His fingers dug into the flesh, piercing through it. Fisting the trachea, Alec ripped it free. The wolf fell, unable to voice a sound and paralyzed, his life's blood spurting from his carotid in thick, powerful pulses. In full wolf form, he would have turned instantaneously to ash. For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return. In half-form, the process took longer and was sometimes incomplete, leading to semiburned bodies that mortals attributed to spontaneous combustion.

Alec waited for the welcome and familiar rush of bloodl.u.s.t to heat his veins and thicken his muscles. It didn't come. The absence was excruciating, like blue b.a.l.l.s from f.u.c.king without the resulting o.r.g.a.s.m. Loving Eve and killing Infernals were the only things in his existence that brought him pleasure and both had been taken from him. He understood now why the archangels were so ambitious. What else did they have to live for?

Dropping the remnants of the throat onto the man's chest, Alec stepped over him, finding a modic.u.m of relief by siphoning his frustration through to the Infernals connected to him. Cages lined either side of the hallway. The walls were windowless, whitewashed cement block and the ground was polished concrete liberally scarred with claw marks. Small trenches were dug into the juncture of the exterior walls and the floor, with steadily flowing water running the length like a river. Driven into a frenzy by the scent of blood, the beasts snarled and leaped into the bars without regard for their own safety. A quick count told him there were a dozen of the creatures, each one at least five feet tall. Fleshy and lacking fur, they had thickly muscled shoulders and thighs, and tiny midsections. They panted like dogs, but ran like apes, their hands fisted and punching into the concrete floor. The more excited they became, the sweeter they smelled. Like Marks.

Alec yanked open a gla.s.s door that protected a wall-mounted display of shotguns. He would rather not use his newly acquired archangel powers, if he could help it. The force required to kill an Infernal would send out a ripple that would be easily detected by the adult wolves sunning themselves just beyond the door. Alerted by the ruckus, another wolf in human form emerged from a room at the end of the hall. She charged Alec, growling with a fury that incited further frenzy from the caged beasts. The b.i.t.c.h altered to canine form midstride and leaped. Alec shifted to a position behind her and fired, severing her spinal cord at the nape. Reduced to ash that exploded outward, the b.i.t.c.h's remains dusted the creatures in the nearest cells. They grew rabidlike in their mounting hysteria, slamming into the bars with such force they rattled the anchors and filled the air with clouds of debris.

Pumping another round into the chamber of the shotgun, Alec began searching the rooms of the building, looking for further threats. In the end, he didn't find anyone else, which wasn't a great surprise. Giselle had said the pups took decades to mature, plenty of time for security to grow lax. Since the Infernals hadn't been caught yet, there was no reason for them to believe they would be now. What he did find of interest was a rolling metal cart protruding from the doorway the second wolf had appeared from. Its shelves were covered with a dozen five-gallon-size aluminum bowls filled with a putrid stew. Giselle had said she kept 10 percent of her meals; the rest went to feeding the pups. Which meant the contents of those bowls-and the puppies' stomachs-was an amalgamation of evil from an a.s.sortment of Infernals.

He looked again at the beasts that were creating a racket that was capable of shattering mortal eardrums. Those that were close enough to the dead wolf at the rear door were extending their long tongues to lap at the widening pool of blood. Those that were too far away continued to beat themselves against their cell bars.

Alec lifted the shotgun to his shoulder, pushed the muzzle between the bars of the nearest cage, and squeezed off a round. It was a dead-on hit to the temple. The bullet went clean through and embedded in the wall on the other side. The beast sat and growled, the picture of forced docility. It looked at Alec with a malevolent gaze. There was no visible wound.

"s.h.i.t." Adding a prayer to the mix, he shot the Infernal again, this time between the eyes. The beast became even more accommodating by sliding into a p.r.o.ne position. Same result-no injury and an embedded bullet in the cement block.

The guns were behavioral tools.

"How the h.e.l.l do I kill you, if I can't even hurt you?"

One of the other h.e.l.lhounds was lying on its belly, licking at the wolf blood that was creeping beneath the bars. Its tail was protruding from the cage into the hallway. Crouching, Alec used a trick Eve had taught him and summoned a flame-covered dagger. He pressed it against the appendage. It was like pressing against solid stone. There was no penetration, no scorching. The creature snarled and glared at him, but was otherwise unaffected.

"Fan-f.u.c.king-tastic," Alec muttered, sending the blade back with a flick of his wrist. It had been centuries since he'd run across an Infernal he didn't know precisely how to vanquish. He was about to abandon the kennel and make Charles tell him how to kill the d.a.m.ned things when he noted that the tail he'd touched was damaged, its end chewed off and healed raggedly. Pivoting, Alec looked at all the h.e.l.lhounds, noting that some had torn ears, while others had scars on their limbs. So . . . they weren't completely impervious to injury.

They were caged separately. Fed separately. But clearly at one point they hadn't been. Were they vulnerable only to each other? Or were they just protected against Marks?

Alec moved to the dead wolf, whose corpse was beginning to smoke. One arm in particular was nearly severed, the elbow area having melted into a gory puddle. Gripping the wrist, he picked it up and carried it back to the distracted h.e.l.lhound. He crouched and hammered the severed hand downward, claws first. They sank deep into the tail, causing the beast to leap away with a furious roar.

"Gotcha." Alec grinned. He couldn't kill the dozen with one clawed hand, but he had a better idea. He returned to the office he'd searched earlier. Via the computer, he quickly acquainted himself with the kennel setup. Each cage floor was hydraulic, lowering to an underground dog run set up like a maze, with each pup segregated from its siblings by cleverly placed walls. A set of drawn schematics pinned to a corkboard above the desk showed that live bait was occasionally brought in for hunting and training. The kennel doors could be opened remotely for cleaning while the pups were below. Alec smiled. "I love it when a plan comes together."

He left the office. Moving to the metal meal cart, he pulled it completely out of the doorway it protruded from and wheeled it down the hallway. The beasts went wild. He paused by the first cage and lifted a bowl.

"Requietum." His voice resonated with command.

All the Infernals immediately quieted and sat, waiting. There had been other commands listed in the office, but the rest of them were only useful if you wanted something hunted. The pups eyed him with obvious malice, obeying him only because they were instinctive creatures that wanted nothing so much as to eat. Shifting with lightning speed, Alec entered the first cage. He dumped the contents atop the Infernal's head and shifted back out. Rinse and repeat, all the way down the line. The last two were the hardest, since the first few were screaming in protest by the time he reached the end.

Spattered with the noxious meal, he shifted back into the office and locked the door. With a quick downward wave of his hand, he removed all traces of puppy food from his clothes. Then, he hit the release for the cage locks. The subsequent collision of powerful bodies was like listening to eighteen-wheelers crashing on the highway at top speeds. Alec grinned and text-messaged Abel- Not going to make the conference. He cc'd Raguel's phone, too, since Abel was unreliable about using his. Outside the office door, the screams were deafening.

"Ten minutes." Eve looked at Reed, who was rubbing the back of his neck. "If-and that's a big 'if'- Molenaar was walking at a slug's pace, and Claire is right about last seeing him at eight-thirty."

They stood outside the video rental store where Claire had last seen Molenaar alive. They'd occupied the same spot a half dozen times over the course of the last forty-five minutes and the conclusion was undeniable.

"That's not enough time," he said, "to cross the distance from the store to the alley, pin him up, then mutilate his body . . . Not while using bare hands. Magic . . . maybe."

"So, how did the killer gain time?"

He shot her a bemused look. "Good question. She did say the time could be closer to eight."

Eve shook her head. "Not possible. We entered Anytown at eight."

Reminded of the ticking clock, she glanced down at her watch. "We have to head back. It's five minutes to three."

"Did you get what you needed here?" His fingers circled her wrist.

"Yes, I'm all set." She wondered if he noticed how often he reached for her, both mentally and physically. Luckily, their physical connection seemed to short-circuit the mental, which afforded her some privacy, but she wouldn't have b.i.t.c.hed even if it hadn't been convenient. Right now, she needed to be touched. To say she was smarting from Alec's personality transplant would be the understatement of all time. Eve had a few absolutes in her life-her parents would always be married, her sister would always be wild, Janice would always be her best friend, and Alec would always be madly in l.u.s.t with her. The loss of one of those made her doubt the others, which in turn made her wonder if there was anything she could count on at all. Silly to pin so much on the affections of one man, but there it was.

"Are you sure?" Reed insisted. "No coming back?"

"I'm sure." They hadn't examined every crack and crevice of Anytown, but an exhaustive search wasn't necessary. She didn't have the same feelings of dread she'd had at the start of the exercise, a familiar cloud of foreboding that had hovered over her from the very beginning of training. All this time, she believed the sensation of being disliked and an outcast in her cla.s.s had been externally generated. Now she understood that disquiet came from inside her.

"Unless the Ghoul School team decides they want to stay," she equivocated. "Then we'll have to revisit."

He nodded, apparently satisfied with that. "They think this place is going to be lit up like Times Square. I doubt they'll decide that's conducive to filming eerie-looking night vision footage."

"I don't know. Linda isn't doing this as a lark." She related what the young woman had told her earlier.

"This Tiffany person," he began when she finished. "She's the European Mark you want me to check up on?"

"Yes." She glanced up at him and felt her stomach clench. He was boyishly handsome when he smiled, but when he was somber, he was devastating.

"Why? They can't be reunited, babe. Not unless Linda gets marked."

"Don't say that," she admonished. "I don't expect that Linda will ever know what happened to her friend, but she'll be all right. She's got Roger to lean on when she needs to, and a calling that gives her purpose. It's Tiffany I worry about. I think if she knew about Linda's blog and the show, maybe she'd find some comfort in knowing how much her friend still loves her."

"Marks are cut off from their old life for a reason."

"You promised."

Reed shook his head. "That was before I knew what you wanted the information for. Rules are rules."

"Hey, I don't know what you want from me. There's a lot of ground to cover between wild gorilla s.e.x and washing a car."

His slow smile made her toes curl, not exactly a convenient thing when walking in combat boots. "True."

She didn't really believe s.e.x would be the forfeit or she never would have agreed. Reed wanted her to come to him on her own. Since he wouldn't take her during the Novium, he certainly wouldn't take her for a bet.

"It's not as if Linda's actions are covert," she argued. "Her weblog, episodes of the show, their website, the website of the network . . . It's all public domain."

"So let the Mark find it-or not-on her own. If you're claiming inevitable discovery, allow her to discover it inevitably."

"If you renege on our deal, I'm free to do the same."

He growled, looking so disgruntled she couldn't help but find humor in it despite her worry over Alec.

"Hey." She b.u.mped her shoulder into his. "Just say the deal is off and you're free."

"So you can sucker some other poor soul into trouble with you?"

"You're claiming selfless motivation?" She laughed. "That might have more impact if you weren't blackmailing me."

"You started it by dragging me here."

"You would have come, regardless," she countered. "I just got myself invited."

She was pretty sure she could have swayed Montevista, if she'd had to. At worst, she could have proceeded without him, which would have forced him to tag along for safety's sake. But she was much happier to have Reed with her. Despite his rough edges, she enjoyed his company, and while he was a risk to her in many ways, he was also protective. Sometimes.

They pa.s.sed the boundaries of Anytown, then reached the street. Turning left, they headed toward the duplex.

"You just barrel through everything," he grumbled, "rules be d.a.m.ned."

"Break the deal." Her voice was low and taunting. "I double dog dare you."

Reed met her gaze with narrowed eyes. "Not on your life."

His look promised all sorts of wicked consequences and a fission of attraction moved through her. Eve shrugged it off by necessity. "I don't understand what you and your brother are fighting about." Or why she had to be stuck in the middle.

"What does Cain have to do with anything?" he snapped.

Growing cautious at his harshness, she replied carefully, "You tell me."

He stopped and faced her, his back to their destination. Blocking her way. "Explain your convoluted female thought process to me."

"Can't you read my mind?"