her up and flew her across the city to a warehouse. She escaped from him when he was glutted on blood, somehow ending up in the river—she couldn’t remember the details of how. I think she was probably hallucinating and disoriented because of the drugs. We all know angels don’t get blood-glutted.”
Illium, Dmitri, and Venom had all gone predator-still halfway through Kenasha’s monologue.
“When?” Venom asked softly.
Face stark white, the other man didn’t try to prevaricate. “Not long before Raphael fought Uram in the sky.”
His ignorance of how the two events were connected wasn’t a surprise. The Tower had managed to keep the details of Uram’s unprecedented descent into insanity and murder limited to a tight group of people. The world did not need to know that the vastly powerful beings who ruled them could fall prey to ravening madness.
“What else did she say about the attack on her?” Venom pressed.
Kenasha frowned, and Venom could almost hear the gears in his brain grinding as he thought back. That, at least, wasn’t an affectation. The old immortals weren’t always good at keeping track of their memories—or even storing them in a linear fashion. They’d lived so long that their memories were tangled skeins it took time to unravel.
“She said he plucked her up from the street while she was walking to work.” Kenasha’s frown grew deeper. “I knew she must’ve been on drugs when she told me that no one could see her, even though she struggled to free herself.”
Glamour.
Not every archangel possessed it, but the ones who did could also disappear objects and people held close to their body, the field of glamour not limited to their own flesh.
“Then she said the angel fed on her blood and put himself in her.” Kenasha shrugged. “She was quite pretty before so I can understand why the angel wanted to use her in such a way.”
Venom felt ice crawl through his veins. “Those were her exact words? That the angel ‘put himself in her’?”
Kenasha nodded. “I remember because . . .” Going red, he clammed up.
Illium chose that second to buffet his wings, creating a churning eddy of wind that nearly sucked the other angel off the edge.
Squeals leaving his mouth, Kenasha scrabbled for purchase.
“Talk,” Dmitri said without mercy.
Chest heaving where he’d collapsed on the floor, Kenasha blubbered. “I remember because I was thinking how delicious it would be to take a woman who’d already been claimed by a much more powerful angel—he had to be powerful, didn’t he? I mean, he’d flown her all the way across Manhattan.”
Illium just shook his head. Venom knew that carrying a single human or vampire didn’t make most angels break a sweat—Elena was an exception, her immortal strength yet growing in her bones, and still, she could already carry children. When it came to the angel-born, even the youngest Tower angel, Izak, could pull off carrying an adult any day of the week with one arm tied behind his back.
Illium, in contrast, could stop helicopters and planes.
He’d infamously turned a chopper upside down in midair after the paparazzi began to pursue Elena as if she was a mortal they could hound at will. Needless to say, the consort had never again had to deal with such dangerous tactics from the press.
Kenasha, Venom thought, was—what was the word Holly had used?—yes, a deadbeat. The angelic equivalent of the work-shy mortal slob who sat on his parents’ couch, sucked up all their energy and money, and came to eventually resemble a tub of lard.
No strength, no muscle. No backbone.
“What else?” Venom asked this particular tub of lard.
A blank look. “That was it. I never did take her. I tasted her blood, you see,” he whispered on a disgusting shiver of pleasure, “and afterward, it was all I wanted from her.”
Venom prowled closer, causing Kenasha to scramble back until he was a hairsbreadth from the edge and a fall that shouldn’t be deadly to an angel of his age—except that Kenasha had made himself so weak that it was highly probable he’d turn to red paste intermingled with rivers of fat when he hit the ground.
It was an amusing visual Venom would have to share with Holly. “When you say it was before Raphael’s fight with Uram,” he said, “exactly how much time are we talking?”
Gulping, Kenasha tugged at his frothy collar again. “Um, the day before? Yes, I think so. The day before.”
That meant there was a good chance Daisy had been taken around the same time as