“If there’s no note, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone—even her—who sent this, how will she know it’s from you?”
Instead of answering, Merrick handed Nathaniel the card key for the hotel suite they currently occupied. “I’ll be here until eleven. After that, the room’s yours.”
Nathaniel nodded, understanding that by their arrangement Merrick was willing to answer questions that had to do with Nathaniel but not about himself.
“I still can’t remember how I was called to become an archangel,” Nathaniel said. “Shouldn’t that have come back by now?”
“Seems like it,” Merrick said.
“It’s like seeing a picture where part of the image has been blacked out. And it’s right in the center of the frame. I can’t ignore what’s missing, but no matter how long I stare at that spot, I can’t restore what’s gone. The image is stubbornly marred.”
“And you don’t remember the demons you’ve killed?”
“I remember some battles but not all of them.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel it. I have an enemy. I don’t know his name or his face, but there’s an anger that burns through me.” Nathaniel clamped his fist closed. “Rage isn’t born of nothing.”
“No,” Merrick agreed.
Nathaniel let his fist relax, staring at his hand where the ring should have been. He needed to retrieve it.
A warning slithered through him, a feeling that duty and desire were converging. From the stillness, he felt the kiss of darkness. Of pain.
Danger has risen. He comes to destroy.
Nathaniel stiffened.
Kate wears your ring, and you left her unprotected.
Adrenaline poured into his veins. “I have to leave now,” he said, striding to the door. He yanked it open as his instincts suddenly drove him in a single direction. Toward the party. Toward Kate.
Chapter Six
The city blocks that hugged the Etherlin’s outer wall were called the Sliver, and the area courted Etherlin society. The Sliver couldn’t legally ban ventala from driving down its streets, but it did its best to make them unwelcome.
In honor of the muses holding their holiday party within, the Sliver’s opulent boutique hotel, Clarity, was strung with lavender and white lights and huge silver bows and wreaths. A deep purple carpet stretched from the front doors to the curb where white limousines delivered tuxedo-clad men escorting women adorned with jewels to rival a queen’s.
Waiters in white gloves served onlookers coffee, hot chocolate, and eggnog, courtesy of the muses who wanted their fans and admirers to feel like part of the celebration. Each time a famous Etherlin resident emerged from a car, they were greeted by cheers and applause.
Kate glanced at Alissa, who looked like royalty in her white velvet cloak. Tiny crystals clung to Alissa’s eyelashes like sparkling dewdrops, emphasizing her otherworldly beauty. Alissa’s stylists had worked their magic on Kate, too. She barely recognized herself in the gown of gold and bronze taffeta that she’d chosen because its colors reminded her of Nathaniel.
Nathaniel. Again. Her preoccupation with him filled every corner of her mind.
“You’re lovely in that dress, Kate,” Alissa said.
“It’s quite a departure from the camos and khakis I wear on field assignment. And there’s no layer of salt and dirt on my skin; my editor will be shocked,” Kate said, smirking. “I hope someone gets a picture.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” As the door opened and hundreds of flashbulbs popped, Alissa gave the crowd a picture perfect view of her wide blue eyes and slightly parted lips.
Kate slid from the car and glanced at the onlookers. ES bodyguards flanked Alissa who paused, smiled, and waved. The muse moved very slowly toward the door, allowing people to capture her with their cameras as well as their eyes.
“I’ll meet you inside,” Kate said with a smile.
Alissa nodded and smiled apologetically. “They’ve waited in the cold for hours.”
“Of course, take your time. You know me, the intrepid reporter. I can take care of myself.” Kate edged toward the door, her gaze following a bright spotlight that wasn’t trained on the carpet. It highlighted an enormous seven-and-a-half-foot-tall angel ice sculpture standing near the door. The arches of frosty white wings rose above the crest of broad shoulders. He wore an armored breastplate, and the edges of his sword’s blade glinted like the facets of a jewel. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as she approached, and then he moved. Her breath caught, and she slowed. The clustered people had left space for him but didn’t register his presence. Could they see him?