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 reached 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.
“What are you getting at?” he asked.
“I would imagine you’re going to head over there soon.”
He glanced at her. “There’s no way Cain or Abel is going to allow you to go back there.”
“Can you really tell me that it’s safer here than there? Especially if you’re there and not here?”
His mouth curved. “Not really, no.”
“See? Don’t worry about them. I’ll get them on board,” she assured. “If they let me check out the area now and we keep it under surveillance afterward, I’ll have no problem making my regrets to the Ghoul School team.”
“I can’t wait to see this. Can you tell me why you’re pushing this so hard? You know we’re all doing the best we can to figure out what’s going on.”
“I just feel like I’m missing something, and I can’t let it go until I know what it is.”
He bumped her shoulder with his. “Good Marks always follow their guts.”
They reached the driveway where Ken, Edwards, and Romeo were helping Hank—whose sole contribution to the effort appeared to be dire warnings—unload a variety of wooden crates from the back of a black van. Izzie, Lauren, and Claire sat in the shade of an oak tree on the edge of the driveway. Their attention was divided between something they watched on Claire’s laptop and Hank’s appearance, which altered from a buxom, beautiful, Jessica Rabbit–type redhead in a Morticia Addams dress and a tall, well-built, red-haired hunk—depending on the gender of the person he was speaking to. The transformations were fluid and instantaneous. A blink and they would be missed.
As Eve approached, Hank caught sight of her. Altering to the masculine form, the occultist moved toward her with a wide smile and leisurely stride. He was dressed in a black dress shirt and black slacks, the severity enhancing the red currant color of his hair.
He held his hands out to her, studying her with both pleasure and curiosity. “Lovely Eve, so good to see you again.”
She placed her hands in his. She always got the impression that he enjoyed her as a scientist enjoyed experiments. “Hi, Hank.”
The Infernal paused, head tilting to the side as he read her. “Cain has altered. Advanced. Blossomed. You don’t like it.”
“That’s not true,” she protested, deciding that she really hated how people were just popping in and out of her head. “I don’t understand it. I’m hoping you’ll explain it to me.”
