Archangel's Viper

The other side of the casing featured a much more sensible pair of tweezers.

Venom’s eyes widened when she produced the toothpick. Grinning, he surprised her with a quick hard kiss before he began to fiddle with the lock again using the spike of metal. Holly’s lips felt swollen, sensitive, her mouth curved into a smile. They both froze when the shadow of angelic wings flowed into the room via the open wedge of the door, only relaxing when it became clear one of the angelic sentries in the hall had just moved to stand with his back to this room.

Venom’s muscles quivered, his body held in an awkward position.

It took Holly a second to realize he’d picked the lock, but that the last move would make a noise. So they waited . . . and then the angel called out to his partner and Venom twisted. The final click floated under the sound of the conversation outside. But when he would’ve opened the door, she put her hand on his arm and nodded beyond the glass.

Wind rustled through the trees. Not a gale by any means, but enough to slam the main door to this room closed should they open the door to the balcony. Again, they had to wait. And wait. Holly’s muscles threatened to cramp, the unnatural wings in her chest shoving and shoving, but she held it together.

The one good thing about being stuck here was that they could time the sweeps of the angel who was on security in the skies directly above and was most likely to spot them. It looked like they’d have approximately two minutes of clear air if they timed it right. Holly made sure her hood was secure, checked that Venom’s knit cap showed no signs of slipping.

And waited.

Venom squeezed her calf.

The wind had paused. And the angel had just passed.

One hundred twenty seconds before he’d turn and see them.

Opening the door, Venom waited for Holly to slip out before coming out himself and pulling the door shut with utmost quietness. Then he crouched down and relocked it using her toothpick. After which, he handed her the toothpick and she put it neatly away into the penknife, that knife going into her pocket.

All the while, she fought the compulsion that sought to turn her into a zombie.

The view from the balcony was magnificent, looking out over an intricate garden maze, and beyond that, the other mountains that formed this range. Stars glittered in the night sky, the beauty of it turning the agony within into a piercing ache of memory. So many times, she’d flown through those night skies. So many times, she’d landed on the flat roof high above that was hidden within the spires. So many times, she’d twined wings with her beloved underneath those stars.

Holly felt her throat lock. “I only ever thought of him as a monster,” she whispered to Venom. “I never even considered that he’d had a life before he became a monster. That he loved a woman and flew across a starlit sky with anticipation in his blood.”

Venom’s hand closed over hers. “He and Raphael were friends once.”

Holly tried to see it and today, she could. Two angels, beautiful and strong, laughing together, their feathers glinting in the sunlight, and their eyes bright. “It must’ve hurt Raphael to have to kill him.”

“There was no choice.” Venom pointed forward to the next balcony. “Do you think you can cross the gap?”

Seventy seconds to go.

She had to force her eyes away from the sky, the wings deep inside her wanting to stretch out and sweep off this balcony. The urge was so strong that she had to remind herself that she wasn’t an angel. She wouldn’t soar; she’d crash to the earth, bloodied and broken. The internal battle ate up five precious seconds.

“Yes,” she said after mentally measuring the gap.

Venom went first, landing on the opposite side in a silent crouch. Breath shallow, Holly crept up on top of the balustrade . . . and then she flew to land on the far side of the other balcony. Venom’s eyes gleamed when he turned toward her. She lifted her shoulders and opened her hands in a silent I don’t know how I did that answer.

Another balcony lay beyond.

Sixty seconds to go.

Jumping again, they found themselves at the corner; a turret rose up on the far side of the balcony. And Holly’s chest glowed so hard that she could feel the rays attempting to pierce the black fabric of her jacket.

She gritted her teeth and, putting her hand on Venom’s arm, pointed up with her other. Whatever it was that called to her, it was in that turret. Venom ran his hand down her back as he put his lips to her ear. “There were rumors Michaela might be pregnant. Any chance we’re about to break into a nursery?”

Joy and anger unfurled within her. Along with a violent dose of jealousy.

“I don’t know,” she said through the dark pulse of it. “Unless archangels stay pregnant for years, any child won’t be his.”

“Michaela could’ve inadvertently transferred part of Uram into the child.”

All the blood left Holly’s face, to be replaced by chill horror. “What do we do? If it’s a child?”

“We do the only thing we can,” Venom answered. “We tell Raphael.”

“Just like that?”

“We are talking about the child of an archangel.”

Yes, said the powerful whisper inside her head, the weak have no place here.

Holly closed her hands into fists. “It’s getting harder to stay me.”

Venom’s jaw grew tight. “Turret windows look like they’re welded shut,” he murmured as he crouched in the darkness, “and there’s no way to climb that surface. We’ll have to go through these balcony doors, then figure out the rest.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Twenty seconds left by my count. If we don’t make it in before he turns, go flat on the balcony.”

Horror a twisting intruder in her gut at the idea an infant might be dealing with the same dark urges that howled inside her, Holly nonetheless took out her penknife and gave Venom the toothpick. It took him fifteen agonizing seconds to access the darkened room. Entering just as the sentry angel began his turn, they waited for their eyes to adjust.

A shirt thrown over a chair, boots lined up neatly near the doorway, a comb and what might’ve been cologne or aftershave on the small dresser. An opening to the right, darkness beyond.

The bed was empty.

Not relaxing, Holly padded quietly across the carpet to peek into what turned out to be a large dressing area with sanitary facilities on the right behind a glass door. All empty. She gave Venom the thumbs-up and he emerged from the pool of black where he’d concealed himself so he could provide stealthy backup should Holly be caught. Their next problem was the closed door to this room. It would open out into the same mezzanine passageway that held the two angelic sentries.

Turning the doorknob with jaw-clenched care and tortoise slowness, Venom nudged open the door a fraction of a fraction. Barely enough of a crack to slide out his mirror to examine the passageway. His grim expression told her what he’d seen.

Now what? she mouthed.

29

We wait, Venom mouthed back.

They both took a seat on the floor behind the door.

“What about . . .” She pointed at the bed and its missing owner.

“Vampire or mortal from the size of the bed,” Venom murmured directly against her ear, his lips brushing a part of her body she’d never before realized was so sensitive. “I can mesmerize vampires far older than I am, so as long as it isn’t someone of Dmitri’s age, it won’t be a problem.”

“And how did that happen?” Holly whispered after tugging down his head with her hand pressed against his cheek. He was warm under her palm, his stubble having begun to emerge to give his skin an intriguingly rough texture. “I get that you’re still developing, but from mesmerizing human prey to old immortals?” The surge in Holly’s power made sense because of the creepy stuff that had forced its way into her body, but Venom had no such excuse.

“Dmitri says he grew stronger in sudden bursts, too. As if the body builds up to a certain point, then pushes over in one go.”

That made sense in an immortal way. “Well, hypnotizing powers or not, it’s not a good bet to hope this guy is under your mesmerism age limit. We’re in an archangelic stronghold.”

Venom grinned and shrugged.