purview—not as long as the victim was assumed to be alive, anyway—the incident involved one of their own. He and the others would be keeping close tabs on it.
Roberts glanced past her shoulder to Aramael. She ignored his silent question and asked her own.
“What do we have so far?”
“We got hold of her school principal and confirmed she made roll call this morning, but we’re still trying to reach the individual teachers for period attendance. We’re canvassing the neighborhood now. Forensics is sweeping for prints.”
“You know they won’t find anything.”
“It’s what we do, Alex.” He shrugged. “And maybe we’ll get lucky.”
She didn’t have it in her to argue.
Taking her arm, her staff inspector drew her to the side of the staircase. “I wanted to give you a heads-up about something.”
“The video,” she said. She looked around at the team sweeping for evidence, at the uniform in the doorway. So far no one had paid any more attention to her than they would at any other scene. “How bad is it?”
“Anyone who knows you will recognize you.”
Shit. “Has everyone seen it?”
“In the office? Most. I’ve asked them to keep quiet, but—”
She waved him silent. It didn’t matter. “There was a man at the scene, the one who pushed the button. He was holding up a sign that said
“Luke, chapter twenty-one, verse twenty-three,” Joly’s voice intruded. He came down the stairs to join them. “
Alex and Roberts stared at him. He shrugged.
“Catholic school,” he said. “The brothers thought having me memorize the Book of Luke would put the fear of God into me. I never for the life of me thought it would come in handy.”
Roberts glanced down at Alex. “Did you tell Ottawa about the sign?”
She nodded. “They’re looking into it. I wanted to see if tech had run across anything.”
Her supervisor nodded. “I’ll check with them when I go back to the office. Are you okay if I leave you here? Joly can stay with you if you want.”
Alex shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Then I’ll start checking the incident reports for anyone matching Nina’s description,” Joly said. He hesitated, then slung an arm around her shoulders in a quick squeeze. “We’ll find her, Alex. I—”
Aramael’s voice, a veritable growl, interrupted. “Alex.”
She turned, took one look at the scowl stamped on his brow, and extricated herself from Joly’s hold with a mutter of thanks and a good-bye.
Aramael waited for her by the front window. The same window Nina had shattered almost two months ago, using one of the shards of glass to slice herself open after she witnessed the atrocities committed by Caim. Alex clamped her teeth against a shudder as she reached him.
“It was Lucifer,” Aramael said without preamble.
She groped for the back of a chair and waited for her stomach to climb up from the floor. “You’re sure.”
“There are traces left—” He broke off, his eyes growing grim. “I’m positive.”
“But why—” She stopped dead. Stared at Aramael. And knew. The room went hazy around its edges as she struggled to ward off the impossibility. The horror.
She closed her eyes, standing again in a damp, dark alley between Seth and six silent Archangels, facing down Lucifer himself. Lucifer, who had raped her and impregnated her with his child, who had caused her to pick up Seth’s discarded knife and slice into her own belly to end that child’s life.
Lucifer, whose gloating words were indelibly etched in her memory.
Her Nephilim blood.
The same blood that ran through her sister’s veins.
And her niece’s.
Her stomach cramped, twisted, rolled. The Fallen One had never been after her. He’d wanted her family. The family she hadn’t been here to protect. A touch on her elbow made her open her eyes again. Roberts, his forehead wrinkled with worry, held out his phone to her.
“It’s Elizabeth Riley,” he said. “Your sister has regained consciousness.”
Chapter 60
Samael stood rigid in the center of Lucifer’s office as the Light-bearer prowled around him in silence. He had delivered his explanation to Hell’s ruler just the way he’d rehearsed it with Mittron, relaxed, confident, without excuses or apologies—
Hadn’t he?
He stared at the dark blotch on the carpet near the fireplace, so out of keeping with Lucifer’s usual fastidiousness. Was it because Lucifer no longer cared about such details? Or because he intended it as an intimidation tactic? If the latter, it was working.
The Light-bearer circled closer. Samael went rigid.
“You look tense.” Lucifer stopped in front of him, hands in his pockets, the picture of calm.
He made his fingers uncurl, saw the Light-bearer’s gaze drop to them.
“I have reason to be tense,” he responded. “My life is on the line if you don’t believe me.”
Cool purple eyes watched him. Weighed him.
“I
Cold trickled through Samael.
“But you have a point.” Lucifer swung away from him and crossed to the sideboard. Lifting a decanter of port, he raised an eyebrow in Samael’s direction.
Samael shook his head. Fought to control the quiver coursing through him. “I don’t understand.”
Lucifer poured a glass of deep ruby-red liquid, replaced the crystal stopper in the decanter, and wandered over to the fireplace. Flames crackled to life in the stone recess. He rested a shoulder against the mantel. “I don’t believe for a second you’ve had my best interests at heart, Archangel. I do, however, think you make a valid point about my army needing to be looked after should anything happen to me. Or to you.”
Undecided on quite how to reply to grudging praise and a distinct threat delivered in the same breath, Samael decided that remaining silent was his wisest course of action.
Lucifer swirled his glass. Clockwise. Counter. “You’re certain you can convince Seth to take back his powers
“He’s almost there now. A couple of nudges will tip him over the edge.”
“And you’re willing to stake your life on this?”
That one was a little more difficult to answer, but Samael managed a nod.
“All right.”
“You have twenty-four hours.”
“Twenty-four—but, Lucifer—”
“My army will be born at that time, Samael. If my son is not at my side, ready and willing to take over my cause if necessary, you die.”
