“It can’t be,” I said as Gabriel stared at me. “It can’t. I killed him. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I killed Ramuell. Lucifer’s been dangling it over my head ever since.”

“Then it must be another nephilim,” Gabriel said slowly.

“You just said that couldn’t happen,” J.B. said.

“Do you have another explanation, Agent?”

“No, but I’m not the one calling Maddy a liar.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “I did not call Madeline a liar.”

“You implied it,” J.B. fired back.

“You’d better do something before this turns into a scene from a high school romcom,” Beezle muttered.

I stepped forward, intending to get between them and push them apart—they were practically nose to nose—when I heard somebody groaning. I froze, trying to determine the location of the noise, but I couldn’t pick it out over the sound of bickering.

“Shut up,” I snapped, and both of them turned to stare at me. “Somebody else is here.”

I heard the groaning again, very faint, farther along the alley and closer to the street. I started forward and Gabriel gripped my arm.

“Wait. It may be a trap,” Gabriel said. “Stay behind me.”

“Because I’m small and helpless?” I asked, annoyed.

“Because your powers do not seem to be functioning normally right now,” he answered reasonably.

I supposed I couldn’t argue with that even if it did make me feel useless.

J.B. took up a position behind me and we proceeded slowly toward the sound, picking our way carefully through the remains of the werewolf. I felt things squishing beneath my boots and tried not to think about what I was doing. My body thrummed with tension. What was waiting for us? Another of this creature’s victims, or the creature itself?

Gabriel directed the ball of nightfire toward the sound. There were white feathers splashed with red scattered around just past the gore from the werewolf. A bloodied hand came into view, then an arm, then a gigantic pair of white wings covering a body lying prone on the ground. A golden-haired head was just visible.

“It’s an angel,” I said.

“Or something that looks like one,” Gabriel agreed. “Gargoyle?”

Beezle squinted, his clawed hands gripping the lapel of my coat, and I knew that he was looking through the layers of reality to find the creature’s essence.

“It’s an angel.” Beezle nudged me with a sharp little elbow. “See, I’m handy to have around.”

“Sometimes,” I agreed.

Gabriel signaled to me to stay behind and J.B. put his hand on my shoulder to make sure that I understood. I shrugged off his touch, resenting their high-handedness. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that I wasn’t up to tangling with anything supernatural at the moment.

My bodyguard approached the body carefully, knelt beside the angel and rolled the creature to its back. The angel’s face was splattered with blood and there was a large and ugly gash across his bare chest.

Gabriel beckoned the ball of nightfire closer to him. “It’s Baraqiel.”

“What’s he doing here?” asked Beezle, surprise evident in his voice.

“Who’s Baraqiel?” J.B. and I asked together.

“Lucifer’s personal messenger,” Beezle said.

I wondered what Lucifer was up to now. Why was his personal messenger lying wounded in an alley only a few feet away from the mangled corpse of a werewolf? Had Baraqiel just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was he the werewolf’s killer?

Gabriel laid his hands on the wound and the alley grew brighter as the light of the sun came from his palms. The air filled with the scent of apple pie baking—a smell that was unique to Gabriel.

Baraqiel gasped for air and his eyes flew open as Gabriel lifted his hands away from the angel’s chest. The wound was healed.

“Gabriel?” he asked, his gaze confused and frantic. “Where am I? Where is he?”

“Where is who?” I asked.

Baraqiel shook his head and sat up, staring at me. His eyes were a startling silver blue that looked almost clear. I shivered. The effect of pale eyes against his blood-covered face was ghastly. He pushed up from the ground and wobbled as he attempted to stand.

Gabriel rose beside him and placed a steadying hand on Baraqiel’s shoulder. “Be at peace. You need to rest. You are still weak.”

Baraqiel shook his head, still staring at me. “There is no time. You are Azazel’s daughter?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You must go. Samiel is coming for you.”

A cave in an ash-burned land. A flash of green eyes, alight with hatred and madness.

“Samiel,” I breathed.

“Who’s he, now?” J.B. asked, obviously bewildered.

The child of an angel and a nephilim. A being who would have every reason to seek vengeance against me. My voice was barely more than a whisper. “Ramuell’s son.”

2

“OH,” J.B. SAID.

“Yeah, oh,” I replied. “You think he’s pissed at me for melting his daddy?”

“Did Samiel do this to the werewolf?” Gabriel asked.

Baraqiel shook his head, surveying the carnage. “I do not know what caused this.”

“What are you doing here, then?” I asked.

“I was to deliver a message to you from Lord Lucifer. I heard the cries of the wolf and came to investigate. Before I reached this place, I was attacked by Samiel.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “I’m confused. How did you recognize Samiel? Nobody even knew of his existence until a month ago. I was under the impression that nobody had seen him but me, and then only for a moment.”

Was it my imagination, or did something crafty flicker across Baraqiel’s face?

“Samiel named himself when he attacked. I also have been informed of his existence by Lord Lucifer, who has been anticipating an attempt on your life.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Really. You’d think he could have informed me of that little piece of news.”

Baraqiel bowed his head. “It is not for me to know the ways of Lord Lucifer.”

“Nor me, apparently,” I said dryly.

To say that Lucifer kept things close to the chest was an understatement. I’d deliberately concealed the knowledge of Samiel’s existence from Lucifer in order to protect Gabriel. Gabriel’s life was pretty much always in jeopardy because of his parentage. Ramuell was Gabriel’s father also, a fact that should have been his death sentence at birth. I hadn’t wanted to draw any attention to Samiel lest the eyes of the Grigori fell on Gabriel, too. How had Lucifer found out?

“I hate to interrupt,” said Beezle loudly, “but I don’t think that this is a place we should be hanging around. It would probably look suspicious to the human authorities.”

“You’re right,” I said reluctantly.

I didn’t like the idea of leaving the wolf’s remains like this. I knew that the police would have no idea what could have been done to the wolf, or even what they were looking at. The average human didn’t know anything about vampires, or werewolves, or angels and demons. And if, in the course of investigating this murder, the police did stumble upon something supernatural, it was highly unlikely that said supernatural thing would just quietly answer questions and then send the nice officers on their way.

At the same time, it wasn’t as though I had any clue as to the perpetrator’s identity. Baraqiel claimed that Samiel had not killed the wolf, but he hadn’t actually seen the wolf’s attacker. And something about the power signature from the pulse had reminded me of Ramuell, which meant only Samiel could be the source. Could the pulse have been created when he attacked Baraqiel?

I wanted to stay and check around the crime scene a little more, see if I could ferret anything out. I don’t claim to be any kind of great investigator, but there was something not right here.

“The gargoyle is correct. I believe I hear the sounds of sirens,” Gabriel said.

He extinguished the ball of nightfire, plunging the alley into darkness.

“Gabriel, I need to have a private word with you, from Lord Lucifer,” Baraqiel said. His pale eyes glowed in the faint light that trickled into the alley.

I could feel Gabriel’s reluctance. “I am charged with staying with Madeline. Can this not wait until we have safely returned her home?”

“My lord was most insistent that these words be for your ears alone,” Baraqiel said.

“It’s okay, Gabriel,” I said. “Maybe you can check around the area for some more clues.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I must stay with you. Azazel has entrusted me with your safety.”

“I think I can manage to watch her for a few minutes,” J.B. said, and he scooped me up and took to the sky before Gabriel could protest. He grinned down at me as we zipped upward, cleared the roofs and headed toward my house.

I felt a little flutter in the vicinity of my heart. J.B. could charm when he was so inclined. “You do know that you’re asking for it, right?”

He shrugged. “I’ve dealt with your Rottweiler before.”

“He’s supposed to keep me safe. He’s been ordered to do so by my father and by Lucifer. He takes that responsibility seriously.”

“If you think that’s all he’s interested in, I’ve got a Skyway to sell you,” J.B. said.

I worried in silence about my powers as we flew home. I’d really only just started to get a handle on them in the last month or so. Before I’d discovered that I was a fallen angel’s daughter I hadn’t even realized that I had powers beyond that of an Agent. Then I’d gained all those talents plus more—a little boost from Lucifer’s lost lover Evangeline, my many-greats grandmother, who had possessed me briefly during the Ramuell incident.

Once I’d cleared Evangeline out of my system, I’d discovered I wasn’t quite as powerful as I’d thought. Evangeline had given me some pretty nifty—albeit totally destructive—abilities that had disappeared when she had. I was learning what I could do, very slowly. I could sense that there was untapped magic inside me but I wasn’t yet capable of drawing it out.