There was no time to protest. Before I knew it Remiele had whisked me away and we landed somewhere I'd never seen before. I somehow found myself sitting in a chair staring blankly at the container of orange juice in my hand.
“You should probably drink some of that. It will help with the shock.”
Like an automaton, I took a sip of the juice and blinked at Remiele while she prowled the room. “Where are we?” The room we were in was decorated in an extreme version of minimalist tastes. Everything from floor to ceiling, bed linens and furniture was white. Not a single splash of color caught my eyes. “Decorator hell?”
The beautiful angel I'd become close friends with laughed and manifested a chair for her to sit in front of me. “We're in a safe house in Heaven. You couldn't be in a more secure place than this, Ardy.”
“But what about Brody?” Panic set in at the thought of him being left to fend for himself against Azrael. I knew he could take care of himself in a hand-to-hand fight, but if Rae brought out the energy blasts my mate was toast. “I need him with me. We need him.” I instinctively covered my abdomen to protect the life I'd only known about for a couple of hours.
“The three of you will be fine. Brody is with Tate and my brother will make sure he's okay.” A tray filled with fruit and several sandwiches appeared on a table across the room. “I assume you're hungry. The spread on the counter in the kitchen looked like you were getting ready to feed an army.”
My mind flipped back to the early lunch Brody and I had been about to prepare and the memory set off a loud grumbling in my stomach. “No - just a werewolf and a very hungry, pregnant angel.”
A quiet knock sounded at the door and Remiele rose to open it while I filled a plate with food to quiet my stomach. “I think your bodyguards just arrived.” The door opened to reveal the biggest angels I had ever seen - and when you considered the size of Tate and Azrael, that was pretty damn big. “Gethiel and Ambriel. Thank you for coming.” Remiele stepped back to reveal me. “This is Ardeur. She is to be hidden from Azrael at all costs.”
Ambriel, a redhead who made Brody look like an average-sized man, stepped closer and I shrank bank into my chair. “Now I see why you called me. I will protect them.”
“Thank you, Ambriel.” Remiele closed the door and turned to the other angel who was blonde, but just as big as his counterpart. “Gethiel?”
“She will be hidden. Death will not find her.” The gigantic blonde walked around the room and I watched in amazement as he drew archaic magical symbols on the wall that instantly disappeared into the plain, white surface.
Remiele turned back to me and smiled when she saw the overflowing plate in my lap. “I have to go help with the tracking team. Rae's gone off the radar and that's never a good thing when it comes to angels with his kind of power.” She crouched in front of me and gave my knee a reassuring squeeze. “These two will keep you safe. I promise.”
I had to fight hard to squash the old feelings of insecurity and mistrust as they resurfaced and threatened to overwhelm me. Try as I may, I couldn't ignore the sick feeling of foreboding in the pit of my stomach when Remiele disappeared from the room. Something wasn't right and my spidey senses were going nuts.
Twenty Six
Brody was losing it, and fast. He slammed his fist into the dark granite countertop and watched as a series of small cracks radiated from the epicenter beneath his right hand. The most amazing morning he could have ever imagined had gone from rainbows and sunshine to a shit storm the size of Texas in seconds.
“Brody, you need to relax.” Tate put his hand on the other man's shoulder and pulled it away just as fast when golden wolf eyes turned to fasten on him. The wolf was just below the surface and it was clear by the low, deadly snarl that it wasn't going to take much to spring the animal from its cage. “Relax and listen to me. I should have come to you two and told you days ago, but I was hoping you'd discover the babies on your own.”
“Babies? What?” Rising to his full height, Brody faced Tate eye to eye. The glow from his eyes washed the angel in a golden light and made him stop for a moment.
Tate flashed a tentative smile and nodded. “Twins - and that, alone, is a miracle. Ardy shouldn't be pregnant at all if she's still bonded to Rae. Angels of Death can't have children, not biological ones anyway. Death cannot give life which is something my brother forgot when he gave Ardeur a piece of his soul.” He watched as his words began to sink in and comprehension dawned on the werewolf's face. The glow heralding the wolf's release faded to a dim shine and Tate took a relieved breath.
“We broke the bond?” Brody couldn't help the feeling of joy that surged through him. “She's free?”
“It's why I'm here. I was on my way to see Ardy and help her choose what kind of Angel to become so that I could create her when you bellowed.” The angel grinned and clapped the other man on the shoulder. “I think your mate would make an extraordinary Angel of Anger or Wrath based on the power she's exhibited. That girl can shatter and destroy shit like nobody's business.”
The memories of Ardeur's untamed power - and all of the damage done when she'd first been turned - made Brody laugh. They had lost count of how many mirrors Ardy had smashed, and how many windows she had shattered with the barest hint of her temper. “You need to take me to her. I need to tell her all of this, she needs to know.” He was around the counter and halfway to the door when Tate spoke again and stopped him dead in his tracks.
“I can't take you where she is. Azrael would find her the instant you show up and that would be bad - for everyone.”
The growl that vibrated through the room this time was thick with menace and made the fine hairs on Tate's skin stand straight up. This time he stood his ground and refused to back down when the big werewolf turned around. “Don't forget who my brother is, Brody. He's the Angel of Death and he will take down anyone in his path to get what he wants - and what he wants right now is your mate, your Ardy, and the children she carries in her womb.”
“You need to find him before I do because I promise you,” The voice that came from Brody's throat was guttural and more growl than human speech as he raised hands, turned into monstrous claws, for the angel to see. “I may not be able to kill the jackass you call a brother but I can do enough damage to his sorry ass to make him wish I could finish the job in a permanent kind of way.”
Tate shook his head. “That's what he wants, Brody. You don't know how sadistic Rae can be - he's twisted and will relish every ounce of pain you can deal.” A tingle, like cold water down his spine ran through Tate and he sighed angrily. “Something's happened. I've been summoned. Will you be okay if I leave you here?”
Brody nodded once despite the fear that sat leaden in the pit of his stomach. “Keep her safe, because if you don't, I'll make you regret the day you and that miserable bastard were created.”
Meanwhile…
“Atlanta PD. How may I direct your call?” The female dispatcher's monotone droned over the phone line into Azrael's ear and put a smile on his face. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
Rae looked out over the orchards outside his window for a moment longer before turning his back on the idyllic scene. “I have information regarding a recent death in your area. It was made to look like an accident, but it wasn't. You should have the deceased on file as Calvin Hobson.”
The cop wasn't bored any longer and jumped to put Azrael in immediate touch with a homicide detective who was more than interested in what the anonymous caller had to say. It helped that Rae threw as much suggestion behind his voice as he could without scrambling the detective's thoughts altogether. He wasn't taking any chances that the Atlanta Police Department would drop the ball and not contact Tualatin PD.
“You say this Callaghan person is hiding at an Abbey in Oregon?”
“He is, and unless you get someone out here very soon Detective, you will lose your chance to apprehend him.” Rae smirked at his reflection in the mirror above his bathroom sink. The room was dark
except for the blue glow of his eyes and it gave his face a ghostly pallor in the glass. “Callaghan's about to run. You'll never find him if he does.”
A muffled curse echoed through the phone line followed by the click of a pen and the rustling of paper. “Give me detailed directions on how to find him and I'll get in touch with the local PD to get uniforms out there ASAP.”
Azrael's lip curled with satisfaction. His plan was unfolding nicely. Brody would soon be incarcerated and out of the way, leaving Rae free to go after Ardeur.
He gave the detective the information the local police would need and hung up the phone with a feeling of satisfaction unlike anything he'd felt in a very long time. “Now, all I need is to lower the veil around the sanctuary so the boys in blue can find our friendly neighborhood werewolf - and then go claim my prize.”
Taking the shield around the veiled part of the Abbey was child's play to Rae. He'd been the one to put it up, and it fell at his command to reveal the buildings, garden and tree-lined yard to the world at large. It wouldn't take long for the others to discover what he'd done but Azrael had no intention to stick around. He cloaked himself in the jet-black wings that sprang from his back and faded into the darkness.
Remiele and Metatron had forgotten the one thing that would allow Azrael to track Ardeur anywhere. Bond or not, she bore a piece of his soul and he would forever be able to track her with that one small link.
Brody's head snapped up, eyes fixed on the bank of windows in the kitchen that looked out over the driveway. Sirens blared in the quiet of the garden, and was soon replaced with the sound of gravel crunching under tires and vehicle doors slamming as their occupants emptied into the yard.
“Brody Callaghan. Come out with your hands where we can see them.” A voice called over a bullhorn from within the mess of cars and bodies outside. “We know you're in there. We can see you through the windows.”
How in hell did they get here? Brody was puzzled by the presence of so many humans whom, he realized, really could see him. What the hell? This place is supposed to be shielded. Another realization hit him then. Rae. That motherfucker dropped the shield. Son-of-a bitch.
He rose from his feet and walked over to the door, careful not to fling it open too quickly lest one of the cops be a rookie and shoot him full of lead before he took two steps outside. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask why they were there for him but Brody had a reasonably good idea. Someone, and he was pretty sure who that was, had tipped them off and implicated his name in Cal's death.
“Officers I'm sure whatever this is about, we can discuss it without all the guns pointed at my head.” A few rounds of lead wouldn't kill him, but there were other things that needed doing and Brody didn't have the time to deal with bleeding all over the lawn when his mate and their children were in danger.
The familiar sound of guns cocking echoed through the silence followed by the voice in the bullhorn again. “Hands up and on your knees. We've been told about you Callaghan and we're not stupid enough to put our guns down.” A pair of handcuffs, thicker than your standard issue cop gear landed in the dirt inches from Brody's knees. “Put those on and then face down on the ground.”
There was a fine line between when it was appropriate to sass your way out of a situation and when it was best to just shut up and do as you are told. Today, the latter was the obvious way to go and Brody bent to pick up the handcuffs. He gave them a bland look and clipped them over his wrists. No need to inform the boys and girls in blue that he could have snapped the metal links in the blink of an eye and been on his way. Madness, and an ass full of bullets, lay that way.
Half an hour later, Brody found himself seated in a stereotypical gray-walled interrogation room staring down two plain-clothed detectives who seemed bent on playing good cop-bad cop with him.
Good cop flipped open a folder containing what Brody recognized as his military personnel photo and service history. “Tell me what you know about the way your brother-in-law died.”
“Explosion, as far as I know.” Brody lied, the words slipped off his tongue without falter. “My sister said the car he was working under blew up and obliterated the entire garage, Calvin included.”
Bad cop looked over his partner's shoulder at the file on the table. “Says here you were black ops and specialized in explosives. Awfully convenient, don't you think?”
So that was it. Brody could see where the interrogation was going and he'd be damned if they would pin his ass down in a cell while the others hunted Rae. He wanted in on that fight in a bad way and had no inclination to let the two chuckleheads who called themselves cops keep him from it. “Listen; call Captain Rickers with the Forty First Infantry Brigade in Tigard. He can tell you where I was the day Calvin died. I spent most of the day with my fiancée and visited with him on base for a bit in the morning. The guard at the gate can also confirm what time I left since my signature will be in the log book.”
“We'll do that. Until then I hope you get real comfy in the cell you'll be calling home for the next couple of days.” Bad cop again and the bastard thought he was funny.
“You can't hold me without charges and we all know you've got nothing to hold me with, gentlemen.” Brody rose from his seat and looked down at good cop. “If you'll excuse me, my fiancée is probably worried sick about where I am and I'd hate to upset a lady in her delicate condition.”
“Sit your ass down, boy.” Good cop's gun pointed directly at Brody's heart and when he chambered a round, you could have knocked the werewolf over with a feather. There was no mistaking the distinctive scent of silver on the air. Someone had prepped these boys and given them silver bullets. One of those shiny babies in the heart would stop him cold, forever.
Tate, you stupid shit, you had better be taking care of my family. If anything happens to them while I'm stuck here because of your bastard brother I'll find a way to kill you both. See if I don't. Brody sent the thoughts out into the ether and prayed they reached the big angel wherever he was right then.
Remiele looked across the map-strewn table at her brother. “Tate? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Brody's pissed and sending unpleasant thoughts my way.” He turned his stormy eyes back to the task at hand - finding Azrael. “The boys have no idea where Rae might have gone?”
“Not even a whiff of him and considering what they're trained to do - that's saying a lot. If our best trackers can't find him then Rae has totally gone rogue and we're screwed.” She cracked her stiff neck and sighed as some of the tension eased. “You should go check on Ardy. I'm sure Gethiel and Ambriel are probably boring her to tears.”
Tate gave his sister a small smile. The two guardians had not been chosen for their comedic routines or their adeptness at making small talk. They were guardians and took their job descriptions to heart. “Sure. Maybe I can talk to her about choosing what kind of angel she wants to be.”
The first indication something was wrong at the safe house was that the door stood ajar and bloody fingerprints were smeared on the frame. Things weren’t much better when Tate pushed the door fully open and took in the destruction inside. Red splashes of blood arched across the virgin white of the walls. Black scorch marks from energy balls gone awry littered the walls, broken bits of furniture were strewn about the room and, worst of all, the two angels lay crumpled on the floor.
Gethiel's foot twitched next to Tate's own and he bent to check whether his friend lived despite the smoldering hole in his chest. A bubble of blood burst on the fallen angel's lips, the barest whisper of a word audible as air whistled through his damaged lungs. “Death. Here.”
“Remiele.” Tate called out for his sister and held his friend's hand. As stoic as Gethiel was being, the pain he was in had to be excruciating and the sooner Remiele got to him, the better chance he had of surviving.
Booted feet landed next to him and moved to check on Ambriel. There was little chance Ambriel had survived his wounds. Remiele was the best healer they had, but restoring thr
ee quarters of someone's head and ensuring they were the same person they had been before was difficult even for her.
She stood, said a small prayer for her departed friend and joined Tate next to Gethiel. “Ambriel's gone.” Her eyes focused on the wounds in the surviving angel's chest. “I'll heal you, my friend, but then you must help us find that which our brother has hidden.”
The Angel of Hidden Things nodded, his eyes closed while the healing wounds closed in his chest and leg. “I will help you. The one we seek is powerful and Death is not worthy of keeping one such as her to himself.”
“Summon the Powers.” Remiele opened her eyes and fixed the glowing blue orbs on Metatron. “It's time we ended this insanity.”
It was hard to tell if I was awake or not. The room was pitch black and reminded me of the cell I'd spent countless days in as a young girl with one very noticeable difference. I was lying on a very comfortable bed in my new frigid, windowless prison.
A shadow shifted in the darkness at my feet and I screamed. Memories of what happened earlier in the safe house surfaced to remind me of how far my one time friend had fallen into the abyss of insanity.
Rae had appeared behind Ambriel and blasted away his head before anyone had the chance to blink or react. I'd screamed when bits of tissue and blood spattered over me and hit the wall behind where I sat transfixed by the level of violence. Another round of gore followed when Azrael blasted a crater in Ambriel's abdomen, causing the screaming, I had yet to recognize as my own, to intensify.
By now, Gethiel had gathered his wits enough to manifest an energy blast but was hesitating to throw it while Rae continued to use his friend as a shield.
“Ambriel’s dead. Shoot him.” I'd screamed at the angel to fire with no effect.
Ardeur (Abbey of Angels) Page 20