“He’s there.”
The Vatican representative slowly approached the large figure lying there, his chest cut open.
“Oh my,” Malatesta said. “Who was he?”
“General Aszrus,” Remy said, staring at the corpse and noticing for the first time that the angel’s wings were visible, crumpled and bent beneath him. “A very important figure in the looming war between the forces of Heaven, and those of the Morningstar.”
Malatesta looked at Remy, his eyes filled with shock and awe.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Hadn’t heard about that had you?”
Malatesta knelt carefully on the rug beside the corpse. “I can’t imagine what would be strong enough to do something like this to something like him.”
“It’s what I intend to find out before the news of his murder starts a war, with humanity stuck smack in the middle.”
“What do you need me to do?” Malatesta asked, his eyes traveling across the angel’s body.
“We need something to keep people out,” Remy stated. “The longer we can keep this secret, the better off we’ll be.”
Montagin was pacing back and forth, long arms folded.
“I don’t know how I let you talk me into this,” the angel grumbled. “It will likely be all for naught.”
“Don’t worry, this will work,” Remy assured him.
“It would probably be easier for me to go to the war council and let them know what’s occurred,” Montagin replied. “We’ll likely end up with the same result anyway, only a little bit sooner.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Remy instructed, moving to stand before the general’s assistant. “There’s far too much at stake. You know as well as I do that the war council is just looking for an excuse to start swinging their swords.”
“What does it matter, Remiel, whether they start swinging now or later?” Montagin asked, on the verge of hysterics.
The sound of someone noisily clearing their throat got them to stop. Remy and Montagin both looked to the man kneeling beside the corpse of the angel general.
“If you two would like me to try to erect some sort of shield to seal this room, I’m going to need some quiet in order to concentrate.”
Montagin sneered. “You’ll have all the quiet you need and then some once the war horns blare, and all life upon this planet is burned to a cinder.”
Malatesta cleared his throat again, his eyes never leaving the angel’s. “Let’s see what I can do to prevent that, shall we?”
It looked as though Montagin might have something more to say, but Remy took him by the arm, dragging him toward the exit.
“Let’s leave him alone to work his magick,” Remy said as he opened the door, and led the ruffled angel out into the hall.
“I don’t even know that person,” Montagin huffed, attempting to go back inside the study.
“You don’t have to,” Remy said. “He’s a Vatican magick user. . . . I think he can handle this.”
“He’s from the Vatican?” Montagin asked as Remy nodded.
“This just keeps getting better and better,” the angel said, bringing a trembling hand to his head.
Remy’s phone began to ring. It was Linda.
“Look, let me get this,” Remy said. “Why don’t you go to the kitchen and see if Bridget will give you something to eat? She was making shepherd’s pie this morning.”
“I love shepherd’s pie,” Montagin said, heading toward the kitchen.
“Hey,” Remy said into the phone.
“How are things?” Linda asked.
“Good,” he answered. He couldn’t bear to think of what might be waiting around the corner, if the news of Aszrus’ death got out. He had seen what a war fought between angels was like, and couldn’t even imagine this world experiencing something so devastating. “Got some things that I’m working on.”
“I was calling to see if you want me to take Marlowe with me, or if you’ll be home?”
“Would you take him, if it isn’t a bother? I’m not sure when I’ll be able to wrap things up, and I don’t want the boy hanging around with his legs crossed.”
“Oh, can’t have that,” she answered with a short laugh.
“Nope.”
“All right, I’ll let you go, then,” Linda said.
“Okay,” he answered, wanting to continue to talk with her, but knowing that the longer he was away from figuring out who, or what, had killed Aszrus . . .
“Give me a call later?” she asked.
“Sure,” he answered. “Tell the boy that I’ll see him later.”
“I will,” she said.
He was about to hang up, when he realized that there was something that he had to say. “Linda?” he called out.
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” he said, and knew that it was completely true.
There was a long pause, and he could just about make out the sound of her breathing.
“Hello?” he asked. “Are you there?”
“I love you, too.”
“Good,” he said.
“Good,” she repeated, and then broke the connection.
CHAPTER NINE
Remy slipped the phone back into his pocket, and was considering heading back inside the study to see how Malatesta was doing, when he noticed one of the female staff members staring blankly ahead from the end of the corridor.
It was as if she was watching him, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Maybe sensing him was more like it.
“Hello,” he called out to her. “Is there something I can do for you?”
She advanced slowly, carefully, her fingertips running along the wall to guide her way.
“He’s gone,” she declared.
Remy was taken aback, but tried not to show it. “Excuse me?”
“The master . . . He’s gone.”
“That’s something you’re going to have to take up with Mr. Montagin,” Remy said, turning toward the door to the study.
“I knew it was only a matter of time,” she said. “Only a matter of time before the sin of the world had its way with him.”
Remy froze for a moment, then slowly approached the woman.
She was younger than she looked initially, straggly blond hair falling down across her face. She smiled, chasing away the years.
“He called himself a creature of God,” she began, her fingernails scratching at irregularities in the wall. “If that’s the case, I wasn’t aware that God was so awful and cruel.”
It wasn’t the first time Remy had heard that servants to the angels were treated less than humanely. Many of the divine creatures considered humanity little more than God’s pets.
Remy was standing directly in front of the woman now. The fingers that had just been picking at the wall wagged before him.
