Archangel's War (Guild Hunter #12) - Nalini Singh Page 0,125
a single piece. Dmitri could step below the screen, pull it down so it was at his eyeline, and see everything in a single rotation, zooming in and out as necessary.
Small apertures built into the glass walls could be opened at will to fire weapons directly from the war room. The space also boasted a large flat table to the left, on which Dmitri could run battle tactics as he preferred, as well as a full electronic hub to the right that would switch automatically to generators should the Tower’s main power supply be cut.
“I called Lady Caliane,” Dmitri said as they entered.
“Good.” His mother would’ve already alerted the rest of the Cadre to head to New York.
But Dmitri shook his head, his expression as black as the tailored shirt he wore with the sleeves folded back. “There’s a major problem in India.” Walking them to the electronic hub, he pointed to a screen streaming images that had Raphael frowning, for what he saw wasn’t a problem but a gift.
“The children.” Hope lilted through Elena’s voice. “Are they running across the bor—” Her voice broke off with a jagged edge at the same instant Raphael realized the sickening truth.
“Raphael, those children have fangs.” Rigid spine, a white face.
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Raphael knew his hunter could handle her rage. Today, he needed to look after someone else first. Dmitri, you do not need to watch this.
I’m dealing with it. A steady voice, though his second’s expression was stone. My Misha is safe from this hell and I like to think he got a second chance at life—as I did. But I would appreciate it if you kill the bitch stone-dead so she doesn’t do this to any other child ever again.
It is a promise, my friend. Raphael squeezed Dmitri’s shoulder before looking back at the ugliness on the screen. “These children aren’t simply vampires—they’ve been changed in a way akin to the reborn.” Eyes reddened and flesh holding a greenish tinge that spoke of putrefaction, their locomotion a rapid crablike skitter, these innocents were already dead, reanimated only by Lijuan’s power.
Elena’s hand clenched around a knife blade. “Are they infectious?”
“Looks like it.” Dmitri’s voice held pure calm; Raphael’s second had shut away his violent anger so he could function.
Raphael reached for Honor’s mind. I apologize for the intrusion. He was not in the habit of making such contact with the wife of his closest friend. Dmitri needs you. Come to the war room.
Honor didn’t have the ability to respond to him, but Raphael knew she would soon be here. Honor loved Dmitri as intensely as Ingrede once had. Ingrede had known a content mortal husband and father. Honor knew a deadly vampire with scars on his soul. Dmitri loved them both and always would.
“An entire group got through in the first wave,” Dmitri was saying to Elena. “The fighters on duty froze.”
“Like I did the last time, with the cruise ship passenger.” Elena’s voice was rough, her neck held stiffly. “Lijuan counted on people’s abhorrence of harming children.”
Closing his hand over her nape, Raphael massaged it gently. “How bad is it?” Children were never to be turned into vampires, much less such abominations as Lijuan had created. Each and every angel in the world would consider it their personal shame that such an atrocity had been committed.
“There are thousands of them—Lijuan must’ve had them lying silent and unmoving in the forests near the border, or in the basements of houses.” Dmitri brought up another set of moving images that showed the children attacking vampiric ground troops and spitting up at angelic fighters who came too close.
None of the adults were doing anything but defending themselves.
“You are right—they spread disease.” The spitting, the way the children attempted to claw anyone nearby, it was designed not to kill but to infect.
“That’s from the initial invasion.” Dmitri’s attention shifted to over Raphael’s shoulder, the ice of his calm cracking with a flex of his hand.
Not asking any questions, Honor went straight to her husband and wrapped her arms around him with ferocious tightness. Dmitri held her back as hard, his head bent so his cheek pressed to hers for a long, taut second.
Elena glanced up at Raphael, a painful comprehension in her eyes. Dmitri intimated once that he’d been a father.
He was beloved by his children. Little Misha had pelted down the pathway anytime he caught sight of his papa.
Swallowing hard, Elena said nothing further, honoring Raphael’s loyalty to his friend.