Angels of Darkness

by Singh, Nalini, Andrews, Ilona

  “Not that it matters now,” Brand continued. “They’ve both lost any connection to the community—Miklia to her brother, and Jess to . . .” The lines in the old man’s face deepened. “You saw the remains? You’re sure it was him?”

  “We found his ring.”

  At Marc’s mention of it, Radha called Bronner’s ring and his partner’s jewelry into her palm from her cache. She carefully wiped them free of ash before showing them to Brand.

  With watery eyes, the man nodded. “That’s his. So let’s try to find out who did this.”

  He led them into a small examination room. Concrete floors, a long metal table, instruments, and recorders. Paperwork covered a small desk. Brand must have already finished his examination. All that remained was the smell of blood, death, and disinfectant.

  “Were you able to identify the woman?”

  Brand nodded. “Marnie Weaver. She’s a local. My grandfather paid her to come in twice a week, and she has been for the past twenty years. Nice girl—woman now. I’ve known her since she was just a young one. She never asked questions, but I don’t know. Maybe she’d figured it all out.”

  “Were you able to get a fix on the time of death?”

  “Not the time you’re looking for. Sunrise this morning was at seven-oh-four. Considering how cold my grandfather always kept the house, I’d put it anywhere between six and eight.”

  Damn it. That time couldn’t tell him definitively whether a vampire or human had been responsible. But he realized Brand had more to tell him.

  The old man sank into a chair, heaved a sigh. “A neighbor saw her car pulling up to the house this morning, though. At seven thirty.”

  After the sun had risen. Marc glanced at Radha, saw the dismay in her eyes. A human, then. Someone that he and Radha couldn’t physically catch or kill—someone they couldn’t even touch if the person didn’t want to be touched. Not without breaking the Rules. Exposing that person, however . . . that they could do. As soon as they knew who the hell it was.

  Unfortunately, Marc thought he did know.

  “I know what that means.” Brand looked from Marc to Radha. “It wasn’t a vampire hoping to take over the community. Tell me that you’ll catch this demon bastard.”

  A demon couldn’t have done it, either. “If a demon killed this woman, he’s already be dead,” Marc said. Rosalia and Deacon would have slain him by now—but they’d also have let Marc know they’d been here. “Do you have any idea who else might have known about the vampire community?”

  “Anyone else . . . you mean, people?”

  “A human, yes.”

  Brand sat speechless for a moment, shaking his head. “No. Everyone who knows, they’re related to the vampires by blood. They have just as much reason to protect any vampires here.”

  “All right,” Marc said. If the man didn’t want to see, he wouldn’t—especially if that meant looking at his own blood. “You’ve helped me. Thank you.”

  Brand nodded. “I hope you’re wrong about it not being a demon.”

  Marc hoped he was, too.

  The last time Radha had visited a morgue, she’d been with a novice Guardian-in-training. She’d managed to fill a room with zombies and frighten the poor boy half to death before he’d realized they were illusions. If she told Marc later, he’d probably laugh.

  Not now, though. That weary expression came over him again, the burdens of the world. They exited through the receiving door, into the dark, icy parking lot. Without a word, he formed his wings and launched up—but didn’t go far. He landed on the roof of the nearby courthouse, standing at the edge to look down at the empty street below. Radha landed next to him.

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” he said.

  He didn’t have to explain. She took his hand, loving the strong, warm clasp of his fingers. “Using a stake to kill a vampire is the mark of a demon trying to set a scene . . . or the act of someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing. It’s difficult, inefficient.”

  “They learned quickly, though. All the others, killed while they were sleeping, then dragged into the sun.” Jaw clenched, as if he still wanted to deny it, Marc shook his head. “Miklia was late to school yesterday morning. You remember Sam mentioning that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Late because they were killing vampires, killing a woman. And not a one of them walked out of the school looking like they killed anyone that morning, even accidentally. Did they?”

  No. And that was disturbing. They’d shown no remorse, no guilt, or any other emotion. With the vampires, Radha could understand it, a little. She didn’t feel remorse or guilt for slaying demons. They were evil, pure and simple.

  The girls must have believed the same thing about vampires—even though those vampires had been one of their brothers, their grandfathers.

  Somewhere, they’d gotten the truth twisted around. Maybe a book they’d read, something they’d overheard, a movie or television show they’d seen. Maybe they’d heard of a vampire like the one who’d killed Radha, and that convinced them. Maybe when they discovered that the Guardians’ mission was to slay demons and to protect humans, they mixed it all up, thought vampires were the demons, or that the vampires were possessed. Something.

  Whatever it was, they’d taken it too far.

  She gently squeezed his hand. “We both know how belief can be warped, so that people think they’re doing something good—when in reality, they’re just destroying other good people.” Guardians and vampires were basically the same as they’d been before their transformations. Their personalities didn’t change; only their abilities did. “But to kill a woman, and not feel any remorse—that means they feel justified destroying anything standing in their way. And it’ll happen again.”

  “I know,” Marc said. “And if it had just been the vampires—hell, it’s not right—but I’d have just set them straight about vampires, make them understand who they killed . . . and then make them live with what they’d done.”

  “Maybe not punishment enough, but still punishment.” And if the other option was turning the girls over to the vampire community, and letting them dispense justice or punishment . . .

  That wasn’t even an option. Maybe in some circumstances. Not this one.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But for what they did to Marnie Weaver, that’s not our decision to make.”

  No, it wasn’t. That was for the human courts to decide, and he knew this territory and the law of the land better than she did. “What will you do?”

  “Most likely, I won’t have to do anything. There will be evidence. Someone will have seen the Cherokee. The girls will have left a fingerprint. There’s no chance that four teenagers got in and out of there without leaving some kind of trace. So I’ll wait. I’ll head back to Riverbend and keep an eye on them, make certain they don’t slay any more vampires. And if it seems like the sheriff isn’t getting anywhere in the investigation, I’ll point him that way. Maybe send him those text transcripts when SI puts them together.”

  “That’s probably the best way.” Radha rose up onto her toes, softly kissed his mouth. “This is one of the harder ones. It’s not just the vampires, not just a woman—those four kids threw their lives away, too.”

  He nodded, focusing on her lips. Maybe thinking of the kiss she’d just given him so easily. “You have to go back?”

  “Not right away. Rosalia and Mariko are covering the news for me. Nothing has popped up yet.”

  And that was the most efficient way of hunting most demons. They stumbled across some demons, so regular patrols around a territory were necessary, but almost all of the other demons Radha found came from a mention of something odd in the papers, a detail that didn’t make sense, or a half-heard rumor flying around a city. It was all a lot easier now with computers, and with Special Investigations digging up leads from all around the world. Still, Radha had recently spent two months in London on another mission—and though other Guardians had covered her territory, she wasn’t rea
dy to leave it again for more than a day or two at a time. Anything else felt like ignoring her responsibilities.

  So, maybe another day here . . . and then he could come to her in another day or two, when everything in Riverbend had been settled.

  She looked up at him. “We’ll work this out, won’t we?”

  His eyes sparked with green light. His kiss was hot and thorough. The perfect answer.

  Until his phone rang. Marc groaned, held her for another long, scorching second before pulling away. Radha grinned, appreciating his reluctance to break away almost as much as the kiss.

  “Hopefully SI with those transcripts,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. He frowned. “Local.”

  “Someone you gave a card to?”

  Humans, vampires. How many people had he talked with? But if someone called at five in the morning, it was most likely a vampire.

  “Probably.” He brought the phone to his ear. “Revoire.”

  Radha had no trouble hearing the other end of a telephone conversation from this distance, but to begin, there was only a brief silence. Then a young female voice: “Agent Revoire?”

  “Speaking. May I help you?”

  “My friend Sam said you talked to him yesterday. About Jason.”

  Marc’s brow furrowed. “Miklia?”

  “Yes,” she said, before continuing with obvious uncertainty. “I wondered . . . if I could talk to you. About . . . a few things. If you could talk to me and my friends.”

  His face stilled, a quietly dangerous expression hardening his eyes. “About what you did yesterday morning?”

  Another silence was followed by a long, indrawn breath. “Kind of. No. My friend said . . . said you might be a Guardian.”

  Had Brand already told Jessica, and she’d passed it on? Maybe.

  She saw the same question in Marc’s eyes, but his voice didn’t betray it to Miklia. “I’ll talk to you. What do you want to know?”

  “Not on the phone. Not where someone might overhear.”

  “Where would you be comfortable? The library?”

  “No. It’s . . . it’s closed.”

  Radha met Marc’s gaze. The girl broke into a vampire’s house, but worried about a closed library?

  “The football field,” Miklia said. “No one’s here right now. And it’s open.”

  Wide open, a public space, free of witnesses—and apparently, the girls were already there. Radha’s instincts were telling her that something was off.

  “When?” Marc asked.

  “Can you be here in ten minutes?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll be here. Thank you.” The girl rang off.

  Radha shook her head. “You’re in their way. And you can’t touch them, defend yourself. Not without breaking the Rules.”

  Marc grinned. “And they’ll stake me?”

  All right. Put that way, her worry was ridiculous. He wouldn’t let them get close enough to stake him—and humans simply couldn’t match a Guardian’s speed. He could run across that football field faster than any of those girls could blink.

  His grin faded. “This might be the only chance to set them straight. If not for that, I wouldn’t bother. I’d just wait for the sheriff to catch up to them. But once he does, no one will tell them the truth about vampires and Guardians. It will all be cast aside as nonsense.”

  True. “I’m going with you.”

  “Of course you are—though I’d prefer they don’t see you. If they brought a gun instead of a stake, and they get lucky enough to knock me out with a head shot, I’d like someone to pull me out of there.”

  Because a bullet anywhere else would hurt like hell, might slow him down, but it wouldn’t kill a Guardian. A bullet to the brain wouldn’t kill him, either—but lying unconscious on a football field probably wasn’t how Marc wanted to start the day.

  “So I watch over you?” She liked that.

  “If you have to. But I think it’s more likely that we’ll just need a few of your illusions to back me up.”

  Either to drive a point home to the girls or to scare them straight. Radha grinned. “That sounds fun.”

  “I hoped you’d say that.” His own smile faded quickly. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes. “A demon could have impersonated her voice.”

  “And that’s what you’re still hoping for?” Radha had to admit that she was, too. “That he’s trying to lure you there?”

  “Yes. Or that maybe of all the girls, just one of them is. But if one of them is a demon, he shouldn’t have chosen to face me on a football field. He should have chosen the protection of the library, of concrete and stone.”

  Because of his Gift. And when he turned his face toward her again, Radha almost didn’t recognize the change that came over him. That quiet, dangerous look—but intensified. Marc, the Guardian warrior. Hardened with experience, determined to win.

  So damn sexy. And, thank the heavens—no longer celibate.

  She’d make sure he was even less celibate when they were done with the demon and she got her hands all over him again. Forming her wings, Radha leaped off the building’s edge.

  “Let’s hurry, then.”

  Marc obviously didn’t intend to mess around. As they flew in over the field, he lashed out with a psychic probe strong enough to pierce even Radha’s shields—but unless one of them was a demon, none of the girls waiting in the middle of the field would feel it.

  “All human,” he said softly. “And no one else is here.”

  Damn.

  But, human or not, Radha wasn’t messing around, either, and she wasn’t taking any chances. Marc could speak to these girls, he could do this his way . . . but he wouldn’t be where they thought he was. Even Marc might not realize that she’d concealed his body and created a perfect double of him, an illusion that immediately mirrored his voice and movements—except that it landed five feet closer to them than he truly did.

  Radha settled gently onto the ankle-deep layer of crunchy snow covering the field. This illusion required her to watch Marc continually, so that she could perfectly mimic his actual movements. By standing off to the side and even with Marc’s double, she had a wide enough view to see both him and the girls, standing shoulder to shoulder at the midfield line.

  Or what would have been the midfield line in real football, Radha supposed. She didn’t know what they called it in American football.

  The little blonde closest to her was Miklia, she remembered. The slim, dark-haired girl had been driving the Jeep—so she was Jessica, the coroner’s granddaughter. The two other girls were Lynn and Ines, but Radha wasn’t certain which one was the tall, dark blond teenager and which one was the redhead with the faint orange tan.

  None of them carried weapons, unless they’d managed to stuff some beneath their puffy coats or under their knitted caps. They definitely didn’t have any room to hide something in their tight jeans.

  Marc didn’t vanish his wings. With mouths half open, the girls stared at them—or at the double’s wings, in reality. That’s right, Radha thought. Be impressed, you little murderers. She added a subtle glow to the white feathers and his skin, then let a hint of a complex, spicy scent drift toward them. Different, exotic.

  And that was laying it on thick, but these girls needed to understand right away that they had no real understanding of anything a Guardian was or did. And that when Marc told them, they needed to listen.

  He waited, giving them the opening. If they dared to take it. Tall and strong, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs braced apart, he clearly intimidated them.

  And he was clearly so hot.

  Swallowing hard, Miklia reached for Jessica’s hand, seeking support. Kind of sweet. Too bad they were deluded murderers. “You’re a Guardian?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you know . . . you know what we’ve been doing?”

  “Yes.” Marc’s expression turned dark and forbidding. “I know you killed your brother. Why?”

  Miklia’
s face fell. Disappointment and dismay leaked through her psychic shields. “You don’t think we should have?”

  “Guardians only slay demons. Not vampires, not unless they deserve it. Did your brother hurt anyone?”

  Her jaw set; her lips formed a stubborn line. “He wasn’t my brother anymore.”

  “Yes, he was. The body changes, but the soul doesn’t.” His gaze moved to meet Jessica’s. “Abram Bronner, too. The same man. The same good man.”

  Jessica’s chin lifted. “Can you prove it to us?”

  “Yes.”

  She blinked. They all looked startled for a moment. Then Jessica collected herself, glanced at the redhead next to her. “Ines, you and Lynn need to be watching on each side of the field now, making sure no one is coming.”

  Ines looked at Marc again, her gaze lifting to the apex of his wings. “But—”

  “We talked about this, Nessie,” Jessica snapped, cutting off her protest. Clearly the leader. “You got to see him up close. Now you have a responsibility to uphold—or will you fail us and leave us all exposed, like you almost did when you left your book open for everyone to see?”

  Oh, guilt trip, because someone might have seen a book open. This was a hard-core little group.

  Ines’s lower lip trembled. “No one did.”

  No one except for Gregory Jackson. But Radha noticed that Marc didn’t point that out—probably to protect the kid. These girls would probably go after him if they knew he’d seen a few titles and drawings.

  “Only because someone is looking out for us,” Jessica claimed. “The book said a door would open, and it did, didn’t it? We’re on the right path, but only if you take the needed steps—and right now, those steps are not standing here. So, go. And you, Lynn. Now.”

  No more arguments. The girls took off in opposite directions, heading for the stands. So they had worked it out in advance—probably using the highest bleachers on each side as a lookout point.

  Jessica looked to Marc again. “So where’s your so-called proof?”