“Why?” Astaad shook his head, clearly deeply disturbed. “He wasn’t Cadre yet, had no say in our politics.”
Raphael thought again of the scholar’s abduction and of Lijuan’s plans for Alexander. “Perhaps someone decided to get rid of a competitor before he reached maturity,” he said, careful not to give away too much—alliances were fluid things and someone in this meeting could well have formed one with Lijuan.
“If that’s the case,” Neha said in a silky whisper that dripped venom, “you had better watch your Bluebell to make sure his head remains attached to his body.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said in a bland tone that betrayed nothing.
Elijah stirred, stroking his hand over a small puma—perhaps a cub—who’d just climbed up to settle on his desk. “Only one of us is capable of such a heinous act.”
“You speak too soon, Elijah,” Favashi said in her soft, steely tone. “Any one of us could be taking advantage of Lijuan’s notoriety to make a power play.” She locked gazes with Michaela, who only smiled coldly. “Any one of us.”
They spoke for another ten minutes without coming to a consensus on the identity of the perpetrator. They did however make the decision to warn seven other angels who were the most powerful in the world once you took the Cadre out of the equation. Illium wasn’t on that list . . . but he should’ve been. Despite Neha’s acerbic comment, the others hadn’t yet realized the intensity of the spike in his power levels.
Switching off the connection after spending an extra few minutes in conversation with his mother, Raphael turned to Elena. She walked over to join him, the near-white of her hair pulled back into a ponytail and a blade moving through her fingers as she stared at the image he’d frozen on the screens—that of the spark-filled black ash in Titus’s hand.
“Favashi is right,” she said, slipping away the blade. “It could’ve been any of you, though personally I’d eliminate you from the suspect list.” Rising on tiptoe, she claimed a kiss that poured mortal warmth through him, melting the ice that had formed over the course of the meeting. “I’d also eliminate Caliane because your mom just wants to be left alone with her people.”
Raphael cupped her jaw, running his thumb over her cheekbone. “Elijah and I have been in nearly daily contact of late.” The two of them had decided to work together to defend this region against any further attacks. “Quite aside from the fact that my instincts say he is too honorable for such a cowardly act, I know he never left his territory.”
Stepping closer, Elena put one hand on his chest. “I don’t see Astaad and Neha doing this either.”
“Astaad prefers to stay out of conflict when he can, so I agree.” The Archangel of the Pacific Isles had only joined the coalition against Lijuan when the Archangel of China dared fly her reborn over his territory. “As for Neha . . . yes, she is a queen. She wouldn’t consider it honorable to ambush a weaker, younger angel in his home.”
“Michaela is looking surprisingly normal.” Elena’s eyes narrowed. “I expected her to have grown horns or something, the way she’s kept her head down.” She frowned. “Only . . .” Breaking contact, she turned to the main screen. “Does this thing record?”
“Of course.” He showed her how to bring up the recording. “You want Michaela?”
“Yes.” She watched the loop two times. “Shit.” It came out almost soundless. “She’s got the same fragile thing going on that Beth had when she was pregnant.”
Since Elena’s sister was terrified of him, Raphael had spent little time with her, but he had seen other pregnant mortals and immortals in his lifetime. And now that Elena had pointed it out, he noted the new delicacy of Michaela’s skin—and the fact that though she was a woman who used her body as a weapon, she’d shown none of it today, her image cut off below the shoulders.
“Michaela may actually be with child,” he said slowly.
“Holy hell.” Elena whistled. “Do you think she was just laying the groundwork when she lied to us? So no one would believe it when it happened?”
Raphael shook his head. “Immortal pregnancies are too rare to be predicted with any accuracy. There is a second possibility.” He thought of how he’d found a wounded Michaela with a glowing red fireball in the bloody cavity where her heart should’ve been. “Whatever it is that Uram did to