Archangel's War

29

The young would’ve been too weak to survive such a catastrophic drain on their bodies,” Raphael said with chilling pragmatism. “A small mercy that they died before being turned into mindless shells who would have starved to death.”

Elena had dropped a knife into her palm soon after landing, now clenched her fingers around it. “She has to die, Raphael.” Her voice trembled. “I don’t care how we do it. If we have to cheat, lie, break every rule in the book, the fucking monster has to die.”

“Yes. Today, we must gather as much information as possible.”

Fading light or not, they checked the entire village.

Nothing but more shambling mummies, a number already on the verge of starvation. Crouching beside one particular male who sat propped up in a corner, his head tilted to the side, Elena used the flashlight on her phone to light him up. And stared. “He’s wearing the battle uniform of Lijuan’s army.” Gray with a single red stripe down the left side. “Did he come home to visit at the wrong time, get caught up in a feeding?”

Raphael hunkered down beside her, his wings brushing the dust and dirt on the floor. “Not just a soldier. A captain.” He pointed out the red dots on the collar that she’d missed because of how the uniform fabric had wrinkled over the male’s emaciated body.

“Her captains all disappeared with her.” No one higher-ranking than a lieutenant had been left behind.

Raphael stared at the dead man. “One mystery in all of this is how she’s able to feed across such a wide range. The ghost villages are dotted throughout China.”

A creeping chill on the back of Elena’s neck. “You think he’s a vector?” She held on to her knife like a security blanket, even knowing this threat was beyond knives, swords, guns.

“A willing sacrifice sent to anchor her link to this place. There is no precedent for such, but there is also no precedent for a consort who can store power for her archangel. The rules are changing.”

Neither of them spoke again until they were in the air, the empty husks of people who’d once had dreams, hopes, fears, disappearing into the dark of dusk turned to night. But they didn’t fly on, hovering close enough to each other to speak. A decision had to be made.

Raphael, however, didn’t immediately bring up the fate of the people below. He said, “Do you recall the thick coating of dust in the previous village? The one with no signs of life.”

“Hard to forget it.” It had been ash under their feet, their boot prints clear and deep from the air. “Why?”

“I do not think those villagers disappeared. I think they’re still there.”

Elena pushed a fisted hand against her stomach. “Oh hell.” Bile was a nasty taste in her throat. “We walked through people’s remains?”

Raphael’s voice stayed cold, but his tone gentled. “In New York, we witnessed how the husks collapsed into dust after Lijuan was done with them.”

A million burrowing insects under her skin, her entire body revolting against the malice of such erasure. “I hope you’re wrong. I hope all those people turn up even if it’s as reborn.” It’d be better than knowing that so many people had been consumed so totally that all that remained was dust. No bones, no headstones, no memorials.

“I would put the husks below out of their misery.” Lightning broke in Raphael’s eyes, his wings glowing with lethal intent. “Else, they will starve to death. It will be a protracted passing for all but especially for the vampires. Starvation takes much longer to kill one of the Made.”

Elena’s hand clenched again, her mind flashing to the bloody footprints she’d seen earlier in the night. They’d been left by a villager who’d shredded his feet at some point and now walked on bone. “Is there any chance they can be helped?”

“No, the spark that is life is gone from their shells. I know of no one who can bring it back.” He ran his hand over her hair. “I’ll tell one of the squadrons to keep watch, drop down food and blood.”

Elena struggled against the only two choices. Raphael had chosen life for her, but again she remembered the bloody footprints. “Do they feel pain? Will they feed even if offered food?”

“I do not know the answer to the second question, but I sensed no awareness of pain—it is why they repeat tasks even when those tasks cause blisters to form or bones to break.” A hand cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “I will not fill your mind with the silent screams of the dead. We will give them a chance.”

Sobs broke through her.

She didn’t fight them. Someone had to cry for the lost.

Raphael wrapped her up in his arms, his heart beating in time with hers.

It wasn’t until they were in the jet that they noticed the dot of black on the back of Elena’s hand. Raphael immediately hauled his consort into the private room in the back so she could strip to the skin. She didn’t protest his resulting examination.

“Just that one,” he confirmed. “I’ll take care of it with a whisper of wildfire.”

“No, wait. It’s tiny yet. Give it until we get to Japan—I want to know if I have any immunity.” Elena pressed her unmarked hand over his heart, holding him back. “I have tendrils of wildfire inside me, too. If I get hit in battle, I have to know my tolerances.”

Raphael ground his teeth because she was right. “Only until the jet lands.”

“Agreed. Now get naked.” A hard swallow. “I need to be sure, too.”

It was his turn to cooperate.

“Not a single blemish.” A kiss pressed to his spine, her naked body flush against his as she held on with desperate strength.

He picked up her marked hand. “The dot is nearly too faint to see.” A “pop” of wildfire from beneath Elena’s skin even as he fought the urge to eliminate the threat. “It’s gone.”

Turning, he kissed her until neither one of them had any breath left.