against hope that some trace scent of the Infernal had been left behind for him to follow. But there was nothing.
As the rhythmic beeping of the truck warned any bystanders that it was moving in reverse, Mariel’s head turned to watch. “We went to disable the alarms and cameras,” she said, “but someone was there before us.”
“There’s also no way to see which direction they might have taken Eve.” He glanced around. “Why are you here and not Abel?”
“Raguel detained him.”
“Raguel sent his own guards, but not her handler?”
“They’re not Raguel’s,” she said softly. “They’re Sara’s.”
Alec stilled. His brother had gone behind Raguel’s back . . . for Eve. Abel never did anything that didn’t directly benefit himself in some way and he never broke the rules. Perhaps he expected Eve to be appreciative, or maybe he just wanted to show that Alec wasn’t capable of his new and unfamiliar position.
Mariel reached out to him, her hand resting lightly on his biceps. “I saw an Infernal to night, Cain. One with no scent and no details. Your brother wanted a team available to support you.”
Fists clenching, Alec spoke words that cost him dearly. “We need Abel here. He’s the only one who can tell us where Eve is.”
A consoling smile touched Mariel’s lips. “You two will have to work together for once.”
He growled low in his throat. “I’m going to take half the team. Can you collect some of the contents of these bags and anything else you find, and get them back to the firm? The sooner we get to working on the mask, the better.”
“Of course.”
“And fire up that kiln. Burn whatever you can’t take with you. Don’t leave anything behind.” He gestured toward the guards standing nearby.
“Come with me,” he ordered, striding past them toward the door. “There’s someone who might know where she is.”
Reed glanced at his Rolex with clenched jaw. In Las Vegas time, midnight was when the party was just getting started. For him, however, he was achingly conscious of how late it was and how long it had taken to get from point A to point B. Almost twelve hours had passed since he left Gadara Tower. It seemed like twelve years.
Leaning against the railing of the Fontana Bar at the Bellagio, he watched the water show with barely restrained annoyance. How could Raguel go about his business with such insouciance after listening to both Cain’s and Mariel’s recountal of the day’s events? And how could he insist that Reed report in person, knowing he was needed elsewhere?
“Where have you been?”
Reed turned and studied Raguel as he stepped out to the patio dressed in a classically simple tuxedo with a two-carat diamond stud in his right ear. Around him was an entourage of Marks—protection against Infernals. Once, the archangels had made every effort to keep as low a profile as possible. Now it seemed that with every new persona, they strove to outshine each other. They claimed it was necessary in order to create sufficient funding to manage their firms, but whether that was true or not only they would know.
Pride was one of the seven deadly sins. Had they forgotten that?
“Didn’t you listen to Mariel’s report?” Reed asked.
The archangel’s arms crossed. “Of course.”
Reed tossed the jump drive that held the final words spoken on Takeo’s behalf. He prayed his advocacy would be enough to spare the Mark’s soul. “The same thing happened to my Mark.”
“Do you agree with Mariel that the Infernal is of a new class of demon?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see it or any trace of it; nothing remained that would assist in an identification. With the extent of the destruction, the clearing should have reeked for yards away, but whatever it was, it left neither a scent behind nor anything of Takeo beyond his skin and tissue.”
Raguel stared at him.
“Have you nothing to say?” Reed asked tightly.
“Your brother and Ms. Hollis dropped off the radar this afternoon.”
“She doesn’t trust you.” And Reed was beginning to feel similarly. He might have commented on the weather for all the concern Raguel was displaying.
“She needs to.”
“Then give her reason to.” Reed straightened. “I don’t understand what you’re doing—or more aptly, not doing. How is a novice supposed to?”
There was a long silence, then, “Is she safe?”
“So far.”
“Are you going to her now?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Tell Cain to report in. I want to know where in Upland they are.”
Reed smiled. “You could send a team with me, you know. I wouldn’t mind.