Angel's Roar: Feathers and Fire Book 4

by Shayne Silvers

  She nodded, lifting a paw to inspect her claws. “Not everyone, apparently.”

  I blinked. “Wait, that wasn’t a threat, but a riddle?” I asked, eyes studying her every detail. She was gorgeous. Like all deadly beings.

  She looked back up at me as if bored. “Sphinx. Riddle. I’m fucking expensive. And you’re fucking dense.” Her tone added moron.

  I scowled. “Was that another riddle?”

  Darling sighed and I shot him a sharp look. “Questions often answer questions,” he said, “but the right questions are expensive.”

  I turned from him to the Sphinx. This was a little too strange, even for me. “I think I’m good.”

  “Your mind is a nest of thorns, and thrashing your horns shows you only miles and miles of more briars.”

  I studied her, but finally shook my head. “Like you said, I’m too dense for your expensive questions. They’ll only give me a bigger migraine.” I took a breath and made to climb to my feet and find Claire.

  The Sphinx’s head was suddenly resting in my lap. She sniffed rather loudly, getting a primal whiff of eau de Callie, which was about as awkward as anything I had ever experienced. I tried to slide back, but the Sphinx sat up, resting her paws on the arms of my chair, wings flaring out behind her as she leaned in to nuzzle my neck. I remained perfectly still, ready to stab if I sensed even a flicker of danger, although I knew I was already too late if it came to that.

  She licked my cheek and I flinched involuntarily. Then she was leaning back, eyes only inches away.

  “You’ll do. I need a friend. And you taste salty-sweet.”

  I stared into her purple eyes and felt like I had suddenly been tossed into a river of time. I gasped, pulling myself out of that gaze, shivering. “That’s just my sweat. I don’t taste salty-sweet.”

  “No eating her, Phix. We’re not finished with this one yet,” Darling warned.

  The Sphinx – Phix, apparently – cocked her head. “I don’t eat friends. Well… not usually.”

  I nodded as if that was totally acceptable. “So, what brings you here?” I asked lamely, realizing she didn’t feel like exiting my personal bubble.

  “I typically guard temples, but have recently lowered my standards, lucky for you.”

  Darling burst out laughing. I scowled at him over Phix’s wings, thinking on her words. She was still way too close for my comfort, but the twinkle in her eyes made me think she’d meant more than she’d said outright. Temples… as in Nate Temple? Or was I just jumping to conclusions with her all up in my face like this?

  She cocked her head as if listening to something I couldn’t hear. Then she turned back to me. “What is light and dark, but neither? Made of shadows but dances in sunlight? Made of sunbeams but frolics in darkness?”

  I heard Darling’s boots drop to the ground as if he had suddenly leaned forward, interested.

  “I…” I thought furiously. I’d never been that interested in riddles. Or, maybe it was more honest to say I’d always been interested in riddles, but after running into a few that I couldn’t guess, I usually lost all interest – as a coping mechanism for my frustration.

  I thought about it, having a million answers and none. Which was how riddles worked. Was she asking about certain events in town? Me? Or was this another simple childhood riddle where the answer was time or something lame?

  She shook her head and I shivered. Of course. Mind reader.

  I finally shrugged in defeat. “I’m not very good at riddles.”

  “Your mind is too rigid for riddles, and your body is too tense for diddles.”

  My face flushed crimson and I realized Claire was now standing in the open doorway. I glanced over at her to let her know I was safe. She smiled at the Sphinx, not looking concerned in the slightest as she grinned widely.

  “Oh, I agree. Callie could use a good diddle, and I know just the man for the j—”

  “Shut up, Claire,” I hissed, glaring at her. She smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and walked over to one of the couches perpendicular to my chair. She studied the sphinx curiously, not remotely alarmed. Was it a shifter thing? Could she sense something that made her feel safer? Knowing somehow that I wasn’t in danger?

  “You were saying?” I asked Phix.

  “You know too much and miss all else. You see, but don’t see, so obsessed with the world’s body and not its soul.”

  I stared at her for a second before glancing over her shoulder at Darling.

  “Do you guys have a translator?” I asked, growing agitated. I felt like the Sphinx was only rubbing my face in how ignorant I was, and it wasn’t putting me in a good mood. Not even adding in the diddling comment.

  The Sphinx suddenly lifted my chin with a paw and I held my breath, feeling the cool tips of her claws pressing against my thin skin. “The answer… it’s you. And the Ring of Aandaleeb.”

  Then she was detaching herself from my chair to saunter over to the fire, where she promptly curled up on her side, stretching her paws out lazily. “Wake me when we are ready to leave, Callie Penrose. I have more work to do with you yet. You’re too easily influenced. The bear will help, but you must get out of your own way for a time.”

  I stared at the creature, mouth opening wordlessly. She knew about the Ring of Aandaleeb? From the Catacombs? Claire looked gob-smacked, as if agreeing with me on the ridiculousness of Phix’s comment. I wasn’t influenced by anyone. I always fought back against authority. I finally sighed, shaking my head.

  Did this make me a crazy cat lady?

  Chapter 19

  Claire wasn’t subtle about draping her arm over the side of the couch, even shaking her hand unnecessarily until I acknowledged the new accessory adorning her wrist. A band of creamy leather about the size of a watch, but with no face, circled her wrist, and I spotted dark symbols etched into it.

  “Oh, this? It’s nothing, really,” she said in faux boredom. “It just makes me bulletproof!” she hooted.

  Darling smiled, rolling his eyes. “Like an Aegis,” he said, nodding to Dear in approval of her assistance with Claire, and as if also to catch her up to speed on his talk with me. “Not as strong, but close enough to count.”

  “An Aegis?” I asked. “Like Zeus’ shield?”

  Dear nodded. “A Godly goat-skin,” she said, cackling. “How ridiculous. He had no imagination.” She winked at Claire. “Yours is better, my sweet.”

  Claire was frowning at them, not having been told just how powerful – even though Darling and Dear were downplaying it – her little bracelet was.

  “Claire told me the most fascinating story about your underground,” Dear said, taking me in with her raptor gaze.

  Darling leaned forward with a leer. “Oh? Callie didn’t tell me about her underground, the sly minx.” He winked at me suggestively.

  “The Catacombs beneath her city, Darling, not her body’s glorious nether regions,” Dear chided with a tired sigh.

  Darling leaned back with a regretful sigh.

  “My glorious nether regions…” I repeated, glaring at Claire for spilling the beans on the catacombs. How much had she told them? She pointedly glanced away, sensing my anger.

  “She was quite thorough,” Dear answered my thoughts, making my scowl deepen.

  “How interesting,” Darling said, puffing at his cigar while his eyes roved Claire from head to toe, likely rehashing the details for himself. Pulling the answers from her thoughts.

  Since it was pointless to lie to them – they could read our thoughts, after all – I told them everything, hoping they might have some answers for us dim-witted mortals. Phix looked up during my explanation, studying me thoughtfully.

  “Yes, it sounds like the old Templar Vault. Lucky you. They’ve been searching for it for quite some time while you kicked your feet up in St. Louis,” Dear finally said, nodding to herself.

  I frowned at her. “Wait. The Templars… are here? In Kansas City?” I asked, suddenly tense. I had obviously accepted that a Temp
lar Vault lay forgotten beneath the city – I had seen the signs carved into the rock – but it had all been so old. I’d just assumed it was a historic site.

  But to hear that Templars were actually here? Now? Had they been the ones occupying the space? The Templars had every reason to hate me. I was indirectly responsible for possibly turning their leader into a werewolf. “How long have they been here?” I asked.

  “Oh, quite some time, I would think. By your measure of time, anyways. I believe they came here for a recruitment rush during your absence. But they’ve also been hunting for this Vault.”

  “Is that the one that was here before the Colonial heathens arrived?” Darling asked Dear.

  “No, the other one,” she replied, standing to pour herself a drink.

  He nodded his head in recognition. “Oh, that one. With the Ring of Aandaleeb.”

  I leaned forward. “What is the Ring of Aandaleeb?” I asked, not liking how many times I had heard it recently. I definitely didn’t like Phix’s dumb riddle that implied I had some tie to it.

  Darling waved a hand. “A trinket. A trifle, really. Names. Bah. Two sides to the same coin.”

  My mind raced with possibilities. The Templars were here looking for the same ring that Nameless had wanted, and it had been hidden inside their old Catacombs. Then… who had stolen it? And who had been living down there? And what was it, exactly?

  One thing that was blindingly clear, now, was that Nameless and the Templars weren’t on the same side. The Templars were zealots. Had Nameless been trying to get me to rob them? They already hated me!

  And who was that other Angel we had fought? And why had Greta been so offended about us fighting him?

  Hadn’t she mentioned Solomon before we left the coffee shop? Perhaps she had known about the Templars. They had first started out as the Order of the Temple of Solomon. I really wished I could get a hold of Nate to at least clear up the Greta situation – verify her position. But Nate was off in Fae, so any of his allies I didn’t personally know were suspect.

  As things currently stood, it was looking like three forces of God were about to meet up for a good old-fashioned war. In Kansas City.

  “What can you tell me?” I asked into the silent room.

  “That depends on what you can show me,” Darling smiled.

  I scowled at him. Show and tell, the old childhood game from school. Well, I wasn’t going to flash him for answers, but I understood that everything was a deal to these two. Which made me wonder what kind of deal Claire had made. “Not happening,” I told Darling with a warning look.

  “Pity,” Dear sighed wistfully. She eyed me hungrily, as if she could see through my clothes. I had to force myself not to blush. I let out a breath, motioning for Claire to join me.

  Phix made as if to stand, but I held out a hand. “No offense, but you’re not exactly discreet. Mind sticking around here?” I asked her politely, imagining a wall in my mind to prevent her from reading my thoughts. It was taxing, but I was getting sick and tired of mind readers.

  A girl needed her secrets to stay sharp.

  Phix sighed in amusement, as if sensing my defensive wall, and deciding not to hurt my feelings by telling me it was made of sand. “You know where to find me,” she said, curling back down for a nap.

  Darling lifted his hand, snapped his fingers, and we were suddenly in a damp alley behind his shop – where I had first seen him and Dear sitting on ornate chairs in a dead-end of brick walls. Two yellow raincoats hung from an out-of-place coat stand.

  “What the hell?” Claire asked, taking in the alley, and the random coat-rack.

  But I was already tugging on one of the raincoats – Burberry, of course – and tying the belt forcefully around my waist, knowing better than to ask. I tugged the hood up as fast as I could.

  And like the motion had set it off, rain suddenly poured down from the leaden skies, soaking Claire in moments. She shrieked, darting for the other jacket and frantically tying it on. When finished, she stared at me like a drowned rat.

  “We need to go talk to Nameless,” I growled.

  Chapter 20

  Claire sat beside me, facing the Angel’s desk, listening patiently as I finished laying out our side of the story. Nameless contemplated us thoughtfully in silence.

  “What have you found out about the Catacombs?” I finally asked him.

  He leaned back in his chair. “We weren’t the only ones searching for it, obviously. But no one recognized our… guest. And our whistleblower has gone silent, probably dead somewhere,” he said, sounding genuinely regretful. I even heard Alyksandre murmur a prayer across the room.

  Like a good Catholic, I swore, clenching my fist. Nameless narrowed his eyes at my outburst, but didn’t openly reprimand me.

  I kept my mouth shut about Greta, wondering if she had been telling the truth about knowing Nate and the Angel who had attacked us. The problem was, I wasn’t entirely sure who was worth trusting these days, but I definitely wasn’t going to rely on a bitter stranger’s ravings.

  “So, who stole the Ring of Aandaleeb?” I asked. “One of the local gangs?”

  He grimaced. “The Catacombs seem to have been occupied for quite some time, but nothing had been stolen or damaged, so I doubt it was a gang. Whoever resided there respected the place. I don’t think they would have allowed a thief to get in, let alone get away.” His eyes flickered to my neck, noting the absence of my Templar scarf.

  I didn’t say anything.

  He hesitated for a moment before leaning closer to speak in a soft, barely audible tone. “You’re not one of them, are you, Callie? A Templar?”

  Claire sniffed, folding her arms.

  If he hadn’t looked so serious, I would have laughed at him. “The Templars hate me, Nameless. They wouldn’t take me if I begged them.” Sensing his paranoia, I glanced at the other Nephilim in the room. None were close enough to overhear. “Where do you think I got the scarf in the first place?” I added.

  His lips tightened in understanding. Because there was really only one other way to obtain a scarf if it wasn’t given. Murdering a Templar and taking it. “I have reason to… distrust their Order,” he said. “I have heard that they hide Freaks of their own…”

  I tried to act surprised, and then decided not to. “A werewolf… They’re run by a werewolf.”

  He blinked at me. “You know this for a fact?” he asked, sounding stunned.

  I shrugged. “I kind of had something to do with it, but I don’t know if it actually infected him or not. Maybe he walked it off.” I knew Commander Olin Fuentes was hundreds of years old, so maybe he was immune to the werewolf gene. I decided Nameless didn’t need to know about Paradise and Lost.

  “I had hoped it was just a rumor…” he said, sounding troubled. “Being a shifter is not wrong,” he suddenly said in an apologetic tone, wincing at Claire. “It’s just the antithesis of what they preach, a direct contradiction. Why would his fellow Templars accept it? If he had openly declared a change in their principles, that would be one thing, but to continue hunting Freaks while he himself is one of them… This is not the act of an honorable man.”

  I shrugged. “I always assumed he was a stinker.”

  “A stinker…” Nameless repeated, frowning.

  “Someone who respected the place moved in, so my guess is the Templars turned it into their new hideout. But if they had already found the Catacombs, why was it vacant when we showed up? Not even a sentry.”

  Nameless nodded absently, face growing harder. “That’s another concern of mine,” he said, eyes casually indicating his own Nephilim. I stiffened, but kept my composure well enough for no one to notice. Claire had been studying the bookshelf, so hadn’t seen his subtle indication. That perhaps some of his Nephilim had turned coat.

  “Well, that is remarkably unhelpful,” I sighed, meeting his eyes to let him know I had caught his meaning. Did he really distrust his own men?

  “Kansas City is not the same as it was
even months ago. All sorts of people stirring up trouble. I even heard a story about a fight last night. Involving a small group of car thieves. Seems a few people saw it all happen…”

  I nodded slowly. “Good. Someone is trying to clean up this city, then.”

  “You’ve made quite the name for yourself. Taking out two demons – without any help from those who should have been your allies,” he added, lowering his chin apologetically to admit his own guilt. Claire squinted at him suspiciously, the conversation piquing her interest again. Especially the admission of fault. “Perhaps you might consider an alliance… mutually beneficial, of course.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “I have no doubt. But it seems those below the equator are not your only enemies. Stories about Rome have reached the city. Everyone whispers about the woman who faced the Vatican. They say her shout broke the walls. And that she lured out the Templars as well… It seems rumor was correct, for once.”

  I placed my hands on my knees. “What do you know about the Templars?” I asked neutrally.

  “They’ve been around for a few years,” he said drily. “As have the Shepherds. Neither are good enemies to have, although they say you can judge a woman by the caliber of her foes.” He looked up at me wryly. “Not sure what that says about you…”

  I stared back. “I hear men get set in their ways and need to be reminded that times change. We have mobile phones, now, for example. Other annoying things. It all began to crumble after they let women have the vote,” I said, straight-faced.

  He smirked ever so slightly, catching the tone of my voice, but managing to smile guiltily. He was one of those old-fashioned beings. “You do dress rather provocatively,” he added with a frown, but his hand very subtly covered his mouth and nose for a half-heartbeat, like mimicking a scarf. Was that a hint that he respected my accomplishments?

  I nodded. “At least I don’t walk around naked like my girlfriend, here. Right, Alyksandre?” I called out in a louder voice, glancing over my shoulder at the door to the room. His face flushed red and he muttered darkly under his breath. Claire turned to smile at him before blowing him a kiss. Kevin chuckled but quickly turned it into a cough at the look on Nameless’ face.