Hannah had once told Elena those jewels were part of a large horde Caliane had gifted Elijah prior to his ascension, in thanks for Elijah’s loyal and courageous service.

“While I have never fully trusted Charisemnon,” he said now, “our territories have done trade with each other for centuries. I was complacent, for never has an archangel used trade as a back door for an attack. It is not an action of integrity or valor.”

That sounds ominous, Archangel. Do we do any trade with Charisemnon?

I have asked Dmitri to check. Out loud, Raphael said, “The fault is not yours. You are right to say such things are beneath the Cadre. What did he do?”

“Use his access as a trade partner to spread disease.” Elijah’s cheekbones sliced against the sun-brushed warmth of his skin. “Well-hidden within his recent shipments were insects infected with the same disease that killed a vampire in your territory and caused angels to fall from the sky.”

Wings of lush cream with a blush of peach on the primaries holding an effortless hover, Hannah picked up the thread. “Our people in the ports are trained to treat all shipments with tinctures against insects.”

Elena figured by “tinctures,” Hannah must mean fumigation.

“Many of the shipments were also personally checked.” Elijah pressed his lips together. “But to find such miniscule and cleverly hidden things . . .” A shake of his head. “We believe he had operatives in my territory who retrieved the insects from their hiding places and held them safe until Lijuan’s assault against Manhattan. They are spreading like a plague—and the disease is far more virulent than the last time.”

“We’ve lost a hundred vampires already.” Hannah’s eyes shone. “A vampire must be bitten many times to die, but their poison incapacitates with only three or four bites, leaving the victim helpless to crush or otherwise annihilate the creatures.”

“I have ordered the other half of my army to evacuate a large infested area, and to then scorch the earth with fire.” Elijah glanced back as his aerial army came to a hovering halt a respectful distance away; the ground troops followed. “If you’ve any containers from Charisemnon’s territory and they are mercifully unopened, destroy them at once.”

“I will, my friend.” Raphael began to turn. “Come, I will lead you to where your army may settle.”

They angled their wings toward Manhattan.

Dmitri says we have had ten recent shipments from Charisemnon.

59

Raphael’s statement froze Elena’s veins. Their city couldn’t handle an infestation, not with Lijuan at their doorstep.

Then her archangel’s lips curved in a smile that was deadly. All those shipments are sitting on a cargo ship anchored far off the coast—and crewed by Tower personnel. Your friend with the third eye told Dmitri that she didn’t think they had good “feng shui.”

Feng shui? Ash said that? Elena laughed, the relief a sweet rush. And he listened to her?

We have all learned to listen to what comes out of Ashwini’s mouth. Dmitri quarantined the containers at such a distance offshore that there is no chance the insects could make it to land even if released.

You going to order that ship blown up?

It can wait until we can burn it to ash, eliminating any risk of insectoid survivors. He led Elijah’s forces to a skyscraper beside Central Park. A team overseen by Elena and Raphael’s architect, Maeve, had turned the plush building into barracks within an incredibly short period. It helped that the entire operation had been preplanned as part of their war strategy—Central Park had always been in the frame. At the moment, it was being used to muster Raphael’s forces, but there was plenty of room for Elijah’s people, too.

Supply lines with enough capacity to sustain both armies were running smoothly, with multiple fail-safes in place. A number of strong angels loyal to Raphael were in charge of feeding and protecting those lines. It wasn’t only a matter of food and water, but of replacement weapons and gear.

“A war,” Galen had said at one point, “can be won or lost on supply.”

Elijah’s squadrons began to land, while his ground troops filled up the streets leading to Central Park. New York’s forces had just swelled in size by a considerable margin . . . but even combined, their numbers were a fraction of Lijuan’s.

That they still held the city was a miracle.

A fact made even clearer when she, Elijah, Hannah, and Raphael walked out onto a balcony below the war room. Dmitri had come out here to discuss a strategy with Andreas’s elite squadron. A feather of delicate topaz drifted down as that squadron took off before they reached Dmitri.

“Sire.” Dmitri bowed his head.

Elena almost misstepped at the unexpected formality. Then she got it. It was because of Elijah, a show of respect from a second to his archangel. When he wasn’t being a dick, Dmitri was scarily likable.

Truth to tell, Elena wanted him to pull a scent trick or shoot off a sarcastic remark—it’d mean things were back to normal and they could snipe at each other without worrying about the zombie-creating Goddess of Death camped on their doorstep.

Today, Dmitri turned to indicate the current battle zone. Fires continued to burn in the distance, while in the sky raged a winged battle as Lijuan’s forces attempted to stop the oil drops.

“At this stage, we’ve lost no more winged fighters,” he told Raphael, “though a few are wounded. Several of the ground crew were burned when they went too close to the flames to finish off a reborn, but all are vampires.”

Elena started breathing again. A lot of her Guild friends were down there. Others were on teams of archers or shooters positioned on rooftops. A small and select number would, by now, be sitting still and silent in sniper nests right in the thick of enemy territory.

Demarco was one of them.

Elena’s stomach hurt. They’d planned this, she reminded herself. During the rebuild after the last battle, they’d created secret hidey-holes accessible via concealed “service shafts” inside buildings. Those shafts linked directly with the tunnel system, so their people could get safely into enemy territory—then wreak havoc from the inside.

Each of the nests had clear visibility of the landscape outside.

As if he’d heard her, Dmitri said, “One of our snipers was able to take out a powerful vampire general in the chaos after the last skirmish. No one noticed. He was dumped on the flesh pile.”

That comment necessitated an explanation of Lijuan’s horrific feeding habits. It made Hannah raise a trembling hand to her mouth and turn into Elijah’s embrace. The Archangel of South America was rigid as he held her close, streaks of angry red on his cheekbones.

“We received a fresh report from India,” Dmitri said while the couple tried to digest the ugly information. “The stream of infected children isn’t stopping. It’s as if Lijuan turned the entire child population of her territory into . . . whatever these children have become.” His neck was stiff and a tic pulsed in his jaw. “Not vampire or reborn but an amalgam.”

Light sparked off a pair of wings in the distance, right before a bolt that glittered like shattered gemstones slammed into a squadron of Lijuan’s fighters. Aodhan, Elena thought, just as one of the angels in their squadron took a direct hit and began to spiral down from a catastrophic height. If his head separated from his body . . .

Wings of shattered light in her vision.

Aodhan had caught the falling angel. Elena exhaled . . . right as another bolt, the color shining copper, came from the other direction. It was going to slam into Aodhan. There was no way it could miss—he couldn’t move fast enough with the weight of the other angel in his arms.

Elena wasn’t aware of running or flying, but she was suddenly in the air beside him. She slammed herself into him, her body acting out of old knowledge learned from hundreds of hunts.

The bolt of power singed the tips of her hair as it went past to slam into the side of a high-rise. It blew out the windows in a cascade of glass, some of the small square pieces hitting Elena. Tiny jewels that were designed not to cut but they hurt all the same at that velocity.

Aodhan had already passed the wounded angel to another fighter, was turning to fire back at the enemy. Elena dropped out of the battle zone. Sparkle needed to fight, not worry about protecting her. She landed behind a row of shooters on a rooftop.

Glancing back toward the Tower, she said, Sorry, Archangel. Terror would’ve gripped him when he realized what she’d done, where she was. I’m fine, no damage.

The sea crashed into her mind, the salt spray of it a familiar kiss. I’m certain you just saved Aodhan’s life—bone-chilling fear is a price I’ll pay with no complaints. That bolt came from Philomena, one of the few of Lijuan’s generals who doesn’t depend on her mistress’s power. She’s strong enough to have ended him with that hard a hit.

Her hands shook as she brushed back her hair. That they could’ve lost Aodhan so quickly . . . Since I’m here anyway, she said, forcing calm because anything else could be deadly in battle, I’ll give someone a break.

Scanning the shooters, she noticed one who was moving a little slower than the others and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hiraz. You want a break?”

“Yes, Consort.” Sweat dripping down his temples, he turned away and let her take his position. He was wearing a camo green T-shirt and cargo pants in black. It was the first time she’d seen the senior vampire in anything but a button-down shirt and suit pants. The T-shirt had gone dark, was stuck to his skin.

The two things that hadn’t changed were the wedding ring on his right hand and the expert cut of his hair—currently black with streaks of bronze. She’d woken from the chrysalis to the news that his lover, Jenessa, had proposed.

He’d accepted on the condition they wait to marry until ten years after her transition to vampirism. In the interim, he’d wear the wedding ring she’d chosen on his right ring finger instead of his left. Elena didn’t think Jenessa would change her mind, but she liked Hiraz for thinking first of the woman he’d saved from a life on the streets, and not just his own need.