Eve of Destruction

If he had his way, he’d be on Grimshaw land by nightfall. He definitely wouldn’t have his phone powered on then, although he would have it with him. Charles was the reason Alec wasn’t with Eve, so sending the Alpha to Hell had to happen as soon as possible. He certainly wasn’t waiting for a call from Sara to get things started.

Pulling out a chair, Alec sat and used his cell to call Raguel, inwardly cursing the unnecessary inconvenience. The phone rang longer than usual, then, “Montevista.”

He paused a moment at the unexpected voice. “Where’s Gadara?”

“Cain.” The relief with which his name was spoken increased his unease.

“Who is this?”

“I’m Diego Montevista, the head of Gadara’s security team.”

Alec leaned into the seat and asked quietly, “Where is Gadara?”

“I t-think—” Montevista cleared his throat. “I think Gadara is dead.”

“Say that again.”

“There was a creature here, a beast. It s-swallowed Gadara.”

“Impossible!” Alec bolted upright, knocking the chair to the floor. “He is an archangel.”

“Yes, I know, Cain. I’ve lived at his side for years. It doesn’t change the fact that he was eaten alive by a . . . a thing the size of a tank. I saw it with my own eyes, and I’m not the only one who bore witness.” The conviction in the Mark’s voice was undeniable.

“What happened to the Infernal?”

“The earth opened up and sucked it down. One moment the beast was there, the next the ground split and it sank into the fissure. There were mortals everywhere. An entire company of soldiers stood a few hundred yards away, but all they saw was the felling of two trees.”

Alec stared at the blank video screen, his chest lifting and falling in its same measured rhythm even as his world spun haphazardly.

An archangel. Dead. He couldn’t imagine it. Not like this. Without fanfare or storms from the heavens. Without a shockwave that reverberated through the world.

It was too quiet. Too still. All wrong.

“How long has he been gone?” Alec asked.

“Less than thirty minutes.” Montevista exhaled harshly. “It gets worse.”

“How the fuck can it get worse?”

“I just got off the phone with Abel. There was another fatality in the class.”

Alec gripped the edge of the table, images of Raguel’s students sifting quickly through his mind. He reached out to Eve, felt her touch him in reply. Cool and collected. Controlled. She had pushed him aside earlier. He’d thought it was because she was mad at him; now he suspected she just hadn’t wanted him to cloud her mind with his worry.

“Chad Richens,” he murmured, seeing the scene through her mind’s eye.

“How did you know that?” Montevista asked. “Did they call you first?”

“No. You need to get back to the other students.”

“I’m on my way now.” In the background, a car door slammed shut and an automobile engine rumbled to life. “Gadara suspected Charles Grimshaw of this morning’s attack, but I’m not sure this second killing fits the Alpha’s MO. Gadara said he would circle us for a while before striking again—”

“Charles thinks he has the upper hand; he’s not going to play it safe anymore.” And it would only worsen when he learned about Raguel. “Why was Richens alone after what happened this morning?”

“He wasn’t. All of the other students were nearby.”

Yet no one heard a thing, and Eve had been right there. Alec considered his options. He could get back to Monterey in a couple of hours . . .

But first he had to understand what he was walking into. Charles wanted him. A trap wasn’t inconceivable.

Montevista growled. “I know how bad this sounds, but my team isn’t inept. We’re being ambushed. Stalked. It’s against the rules to—”

“Fuck the rules.” Charles had obviously tossed them into the fire. They would, too. “How did you get Raguel’s phone?”

“He left it behind.”

“Was his confrontation with the Infernal planned?”

“Totally. He was gunning for it.”

Alec’s thoughts raced. “Did you check the phone for messages?”

“No.”

“Do it.”

Standing, Alec walked through the adjoining door and headed to the bathroom. Giselle lay on the pile of towels he’d spread out on the floor—still cuffed, gagged, and now deeply asleep. As he watched, she made soft chuffing noises of pleasure. His gaze lifted to the far wall. He’d bet there was a poor soul in the next room, taking a nap and having a doozy of a nightmare. Feeding the Mare.

“Power up,” he muttered to her. “You’re going to need it.”

“What did you say?” Montevista asked.

Alec shut the door quietly. “Nothing. Find anything?”

“A text message from Uriel about a conference call at three o’clock. That’s only a couple hours from now.”

“Right. I’ll be there. Make sure Abel is there, too. Don’t let any of the Marks out of your sight, especially Evangeline Hollis. Don’t expect her to cooperate either,” he said dryly. “Sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn’t.”

“She’s a woman,” Montevista said, as if that explained everything. Which it did.

“She’s my woman.”

“Understood.”

Alec rubbed the back of his neck and looked out the window at the Mustang parked just outside the door. Hop in, hit the gas. So easy. He wished.

“Cain?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what to do.” The Spanish inflection in Montevista’s voice was more pronounced, deepened by sadness and confusion. “Who should I notify? Who do I take orders from? You?”

“Yes, me. I’ll take care of the peripherals.”

Whether Raguel was truly gone was debatable. Alec had known the archangel the whole of his life and he had yet to see Raguel do anything completely self-sacrificing. A kamikaze attack wasn’t in keeping with what Alec knew. But there was no benefit to what-ifs at this point. The fact was simple: a once-in-an-immortal-lifetime opportunity had arisen. He could step up to the plate and take over the firm for the present, proving he was capable of the position.

But . . . the odds of him securing the necessary blessings without manipulation were slim, and thanks to Eve’s penchant for landing in trouble, he was running out of favors and secrets to exploit.

“What do you want me to do?” Montevista asked.

“Your job is to keep those students safe until you can be extracted. What’s holding things up in that department?”

“Hank is flying up here, along with a crew to investigate the earlier slaying. Once they bring Gadara’s private plane, we can fly out. I tried to arrange an immediate departure, but the Monterey airport is tiny and none of the airlines had the space to accommodate the whole class on such short notice. Breaking up into smaller groups was just too risky.”

“And venturing out in public while you’re waiting would endanger mortals. If an attack is coming, you want to be somewhere you can fight back.”

“Exactly.”

And yet no great battle had been fought for Raguel’s life, despite the proximity of a literal—albeit mortal—army. “Why was Raguel near a company of soldiers?”

“The base commander gave permission for a television show to film at Anytown—the place where Jan Molenaar was killed this morning. Gadara hoped to convince the colonel to reschedule.”

“Get Abel to follow up with that.” A television show. Somehow he’d missed that.

“You say that as if he’ll listen to me. I’m only a Mark.”

“—who’s following my orders. He’ll do it. And tell him to answer his phone when I call. I’ll get with him in a few minutes, and he sure as shit better pick up.”

He checked the clock on the nightstand. Two hours before the conference call.

The mark on his arm burned with vicious intensity, reiterating Sabrael’s order to put down the wolf.

Alec scowled heavenward. As if he could forget. He was hoping that killing the Alpha would kill the problem.

But first he had to get over his aversion to blitzkrieg attacks. He was a sniper by nature, choosing to wait for the perfect moment. One strike, one kill. He didn’t have that luxury now. The longer Charles was alive, the bolder and more dangerous he would become.

“I’ll talk to you at the time of the conference,” Alec said. “But if you need me beforehand, you have my number.”

“I wish you were here. Protecting an archangel against possible threats is a hell of a lot different from protecting a multitude of untrained Marks from actual danger.”

“I promise to get there as soon as I can.”

Alec snapped the phone shut. Then he set to work on keeping that promise. Turning with the intent to wake up Giselle, he nearly ran into the giant occupying the doorway between the two adjoining rooms.

“Sabrael,” he greeted, only slightly surprised. He blinked, engaging the wash of celestial tears that protected his eyes from the blinding brilliance of the being before him. Sabrael stood in his customary pose—arms crossed and legs spread wide to better anchor him to the ground.

The seraph’s piercing blue eyes examined him. “You will proceed with your assignment, Cain.”

“You know about Raguel?”

“Of course.” Something dark passed over Sabrael’s features.

“I’m going to manage the firm in his absence.” Alec never asked for what he wanted, since the answer was always no.

“You are far from qualified.”

“Prove it,” Alec challenged with a jerk of his chin. “Tell me who’s lived with the mark longer than I have.”

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