Archangel's Viper

28

Holly’s body wanted to go through the wall that stood between her and her destiny.

Taking her hand, Venom squeezed. “Stealth, kitty.” A murmur against her ear. “We have to go down the hall and find a way to get to that wing of the house. We can’t afford to crash about and get caught—the angels and vampires on guard within will be dangerous powers.”

She had the feeling he was talking as much to the thing inside her as explaining what they were about to do. But the otherness didn’t want to listen. It shoved so hard at her skin that she thought it was going to explode out of her like the ball of deadly energy that had erupted out of Daisy.

No. This is for both of us. Daisy, who never had a chance. And Holly, who came back from the dead.

She was a person.

Not a suitcase taking this . . . echo of Uram from one place to another.

“Go,” she said to Venom through gritted teeth, conscious that her control over the entity within wasn’t absolute.

Viper green eyes connected with hers before he moved silently down the hall, his hand linked warm and strong with hers. He broke contact only when they reached a corner and had to hug the wall before it to check if the way forward was clear. Venom looked very carefully around before jerking back his head.

He held up two fingers, then formed the shape of wings with his hands.

Holly pointed to her eyes and made a questioning face. Her mesmerism didn’t work on angels—Izak, the youngest angel in the Tower, if you didn’t count Ellie, had allowed her to try to capture him, the experiment supervised by Ash and Dmitri. It had proved a total failure.

Venom, however, was older and stronger. Now, he made a motion with his hand that she read as there being a fifty-fifty chance of success. Given his strength, it meant the two angels up ahead were old, possibly even people he recognized.

The wings inside her shoved.

Deadly cold flowed over her, her hands tingling and flexing without her conscious volition. I can kill those angels. The thought was as clear as if someone had spoken in her ear—and the voice wasn’t hers.

Fuck.

Holly wasn’t about to become a goddamn zombie. She lifted Venom’s wrist to her mouth and bit down without warning. Blood potent with power . . . blood that was deeply familiar hit her bloodstream, thrusting out the acid green mist crawling through her veins. Flicking her tongue over the wound to help close it, she released the strong weight of his wrist. Thank you, she said with her eyes when she met those of a far wilder green.

He ran his knuckles over her cheek, then took out a small mirror from his pocket. As she watched, curious, he held that mirror low by his leg and angled it—Oh. It allowed him to see around the corner without having to stick out his head.

Clever.

It was two minutes later that he said, “Now.”

Holly moved, Venom at her back. The upper arches of the wings of the angels who’d stepped off the railingless mezzanine were still visible, the central core of this part of the stronghold a vast empty space that soared to the ceiling far above. If the angels looked up, Holly and Venom were screwed, but the two men appeared to be focused on landing on the polished wood of the floor below. Holly ran with all her inhuman speed, but the passage was long and the angels landed before she reached the other end.

Falling to the carpet as close to the wall as possible, she began to crawl.

Voices drifted up from the ground floor, but the words were difficult to understand. She didn’t try, just focused on her destination and kept going. Now that she was going in the right direction, the serrated wings inside her chest had stopped trying to breach her flesh, but she could still feel them, lying just beneath her skin.

The distinctive susurration of wings, as if one of the angels was rising back up.

The end of this part of the mezzanine was too far for her to win a race against a being with wings. Holly rolled left and into an open doorway. Venom rolled in a heartbeat later and they moved behind the door to flatten themselves against the wall. Holly’s heart thudded hard, but below that was another pull far more visceral. Whatever it was that drew her, it was now so close that it was a hand around her throat that attempted to override her free will and haul her closer.

Holly thought of Mia, of their mom and dad and brothers, of Ash and Janvier, even Arabella and Zeph.

All people who saw her. Knew her.

No one more so than the vampire who closed his hand over hers and gripped hard. She wove her fingers through his and she stayed determinedly Holly.

She and Venom were in a darkened bedroom. Not Michaela’s, that much was clear now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. The furniture was lovely, the bed made with flowing white sheets, the bed itself edged by four exquisitely carved posts. A chair with curved legs as elegant sat by the antique white vanity, and it looked like the light in the center of the room might be a small chandelier.

It was very pretty, but without personality. The kind of room where no one lived on a permanent basis. A guest room then, a nice one. It looked like it might even have a private balcony beyond the lacy curtains that hung on the other side of the room. The view—

She elbowed Venom . . . only to glance over and see him staring at those same balcony curtains. He lifted a finger to his lips, then began to slide along the walls in that direction, motioning for her to stay and keep an ear on the external hallway. He was halfway to his destination when the angels’ conversation became suddenly more audible. They’d moved to right outside the door.

Holly couldn’t understand a word of what the two were saying. They weren’t speaking English.

Of course they weren’t. She was in freaking Hungary.

She had a smattering of high school French and German, but the language was neither of those. Hungarian made sense. And maybe she was pulling a language out of her ass because she had no idea. What she did have was an app on her phone that Illium had told her to download. As Venom whispered closer to the curtains, she slipped the phone carefully out of her pocket but didn’t press the button to bring up the home screen.

First, she unzipped her jacket slightly—and silently—and tucked the phone up near her chin so the glow from the screen would be contained. It wasn’t the best way to see the screen, but she could just do it if she tucked her chin into her chest.

Bringing up the home screen, she swiped into the translation app. She’d already put the phone on silent, so the app wouldn’t speak. However, words began to crawl across the screen, with gaps where the app couldn’t pick up the sound. According to the screen, the language being spoken was Hungarian . . . right before it became ancient Greek.

Two angels, two preferred languages, but it was obvious they understood one another.

A cheery note popped up over the text, stating that the app’s ancient Greek module had been verified by a vampire professor who was an actual ancient Greek. It also helpfully noted that this was no longer a dominant dialect, but still popular among a “statistically significant percentage of immortals.”

Holly quickly got rid of it, far more interested in the conversation outside.

“. . . restless.”

“What . . . sentries . . . ?”

“Nothing, but I’m . . . alert.”

“. . . a good position . . . make it into the house, but we should be vigilant.”

“Agreed. No one can get past us.”

Holly winced as the sound of wings opening then closing came from almost directly outside. Well, that made that decision clear. Sliding away her phone, she did what Venom had and made her way silently to the balcony doors he’d parted the curtains very slightly to expose. He shot her a speaking look.

Shaking her head, Holly risked taking out the phone to show him the transcript of the discussion.

His jaw firmed before he returned his attention to the locked door. When he gestured at her hair, she frowned, having no idea what he wanted. He made pointy motions. What? Oh. Holly had braided her hair tightly for this operation and had no hairpins to give him. Making a “wait” motion, she reached carefully into her pack to triumphantly reveal a penknife. It was pink, with golden stars on it.

Venom rolled his eyes at the petite thing.

Making a face at him, she pulled out the metal toothpick tucked into the top of one side of the casing. She’d never understood why the otherwise girly penknife, given to her as a gift by Rania—yeah, it still hurt to remember her friend was gone—and filled with things like nail files and a tiny, slender mirror, had a disgusting, meant to be reused, toothpick. Needless to say, Holly had never put it anywhere near her mouth. It had, however, come in handy when she wanted to dig out the last of her lipstick from a tube.

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.