Haunted - By Kelley Armstrong Page 0,77

wore something more fashionable. But both wore garments of a diaphanous fabric the same luminous pearl white as the walls. The woman wore a toga that left one shoulder bare, while the man was dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and billowing pants. I’ve heard of people looking so healthy they glowed, but these two literally did; their skin gave off an unearthly shimmer.

“Eve,” the woman said, her beautiful voice leaving no doubt that she was a full-blooded angel.

“Uh, yes,” I said, suddenly flustered. “I’m looking—”

“For Trsiel,” the man said. “He gave you the code to come here?”

When I nodded, the two exchanged a look that I was sure was more than a look. They were speaking to each other telepathically, like the wraith-clerks did. Did full-blooded angels naturally communicate by telepathy? I’d never considered that with Trsiel, but then, except for the voice and picture-perfect beauty, he and these two seemed like members of different species.

“Is Trsiel…around?” I asked. “He was supposed to meet me here but—”

“But he is late.”

The woman gave the barest shake of her head, as if this wasn’t surprising. She looked at the man and they communicated something. The man looked over at me.

“I will find him,” he said.

“Find who?” Trsiel swung through the doorway, still dressed in the cargo pants and jersey he’d been wearing earlier.

“We need to get you a watch,” I said.

He grinned, eyes glinting. “At least this time you aren’t dueling anyone.” He saw the others. Dismay flickered across his face, but he forced it back with another jaunty smile. “Have you guys been introduced?”

“No, we guys have not,” the woman said.

“Eve, this is Shekinah.” He gestured at the woman, then nodded at the man. “And Balthial. Eve is—”

“We are well aware of who Eve is and what she is doing,” Shekinah said, voice rippling with annoyance. “We are also aware, Trsiel, that you have been having some…difficulty helping her with that task.”

“Difficulty?” Trsiel’s jaw twitched. “I haven’t had any—”

“Eve found the Nix and you failed to capture her. You were late, and—”

“He wasn’t late,” I cut in. “The Nix took off as soon as I summoned him.”

As soon as I said this I wished I hadn’t. Shekinah shook her head as if to say, “What’s the universe coming to, a ghost defending an angel?” When her gaze met Trsiel’s, I’m sure that’s pretty much what she did say to him, telepathically.

“We should be going,” I said. “We have a lot to do—”

“Of course you do,” Balthial said. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Eve, and I am looking forward to renewing the acquaintance when you ascend.”

“Yes,” Shekinah said. “It was indeed a pleasure. And if you require any assistance with this quest, any assistance you might not be currently receiving, you may contact either Balthial or myself through the Fates.”

At that, Trsiel’s jaw set so hard I feared he’d start snapping teeth. The other angels nodded a farewell, as serene and composed as ever, and faded away.

“What the hell is her problem?” I muttered when they were gone.

Trsiel’s jaw relaxed into a crooked smile. “Shekinah and I have some…philosophical differences. Balthial and I do, too, but he’s better at hiding it.”

“Seems like there’s more than philosophical differences between you and them.”

Trsiel tensed. His gaze studied mine, as if trying to interpret my meaning. Then he relaxed again and reached for my hand.

“Let’s go see Amanda Sullivan,” he said. “I’ll explain on the way.”

“So the Nix has resurfaced in the living world?”

He nodded. I laid my hand in his, and he teleported us there.

26

WE EMERGED IN A DARK, DANK ROOM THAT STANK OF something indescribably awful.

“Guano,” Trsiel said in response to my gagging. When I gave him a “huh?” look, he translated. “Bat shit.”

“There’s a special name for it? Can’t imagine why that never entered my vocabulary before. What’s guano doing in—”

I stopped as my brain made an abrupt logical click. Where there’s bat shit, there must be…I looked up, way up, and saw rows of little bodies suspended from the ceiling. I shuddered and wrapped my arms around my chest.

Trsiel smiled. “You’ll wrest a burning sword from an angel, but you’re afraid of bats?”

“I’m not afraid of them. I just don’t like them. They’re…furry. Flying things shouldn’t be furry. It’s not right. And if I ever meet the Creator, I’m taking that one up with him.”

Trsiel laughed. “That I’d like to see. Your one and possibly only chance to get the answer to every question in the universe, and you’ll ask,

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