Archangel's Heart
Page 119
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“The search for luminescence is a mask,” he said bluntly. “The ones involved have used it to enslave mortals and slake their carnal lusts without having to answer for their crimes to anyone.” Again, he knew crimes against mortals meant nothing to several of the archangels, so he continued. “Jean-Baptiste is not the only vampire who is apt to have ‘died’ while seconded to serve at Lumia.”
“I believe most are truly dead,” Jean-Baptiste said when Raphael looked at him. “Gian taunted us during our captivity with stories of all the ‘inconvenient’ guards he and his cohort had murdered without repercussion.” The vampire spoke with clear-eyed focus, his assurance a testament to his spirit. “He meant to frighten us into believing him omnipotent—he told us he was the final law in Lumia and even archangels didn’t question his word.”
“Liar.” The rasp of sound came from Gian, his vocal cords clearly recovering.
Ten archangelic heads turned toward the Luminata. None of the looks were friendly. It was Elijah who spoke. “I have lost three vampires over the past three and a half centuries. Two to an apparent freak accident during combat training when they attacked each other with too much force, one to a disappearance that was never explained except as a desertion of his post.”
“Ibrahim is mine,” Neha confirmed, crouching down again to touch his hand gently with her own before she rose. “A vampire seconded to Lumia was also said to have deserted out of boredom.”
“Two,” Michaela snapped. “Two of my most talented young angelic warriors, seconded here as squadron leaders for a short term because Lumia is considered a prestigious position and I wanted them to have that experience on their records.”
I keep forgetting she’s an actual archangel, Elena said. One who obviously rules well since her territory is stable. Then she says something like that.
Never forget no archangel is one-dimensional. It was a lesson that could well save her life one day.
“One,” Titus said in his booming voice. “A young vampire who disappeared without a trace and who, it was told to me, had been aggressive before he strode off into the darkness never to be seen again.”
In the end, the Cadre confirmed they’d lost a total of at least twenty-five vampires as well as ten angels over the centuries since Gian took leadership. Most of the latter had been seconded as squadron leaders.
The number wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but fighters with enough promise to be sent to Lumia were considered valuable assets and many had personal relationships with their archangels—or with the weapons masters of those archangels. They had been missed. The only reason no one had connected the dots was because the disappearances and deaths had been spread out across many archangelic territories and over centuries.
“Why did they die?” The question came from Alexander, and it was directed not at Gian, but at Jean-Baptiste. “Did Gian boast of his reasons?”
Once more, even in the face of an Ancient’s regard, the vampire held his ground.
Any archangel would be proud to have your grandfather in his forces, hbeebti.
Pride tinged the silver-rimmed gray of his consort’s eyes when she smiled at him.
“They began to ask questions,” Jean-Baptiste said.
“Liar!” Gian’s attempt at a yell was only a slightly louder rasp that everyone ignored, their attention on the vampire who was Elena’s blood.
“All of the ones who are gone were highly intelligent,” the other man said, “and they weren’t willing to look the other way when they realized Lumia was breaking the rules that permit it to be a self-governing society.”
Shoulder muscles bunched and his feet set firmly apart, he said, “The current squadrons are all privately sourced and paid for with the money the Luminata bring in with them when they pledge to Lumia—it means there is no risk the men will have any loyalty but to Lumia.”
Majda spoke into the pause, gripping at the back of her husband’s forearm and voice trembling. Yet she would not be silenced. “He calls himself the King of Kings, a man beyond the reach of anyone on this earth.”
Michaela would’ve fried Gian on the spot if Raphael hadn’t held up a hand. “I call blood debt.”
Everyone froze.
He waited for a challenge, but what he got was an incline of the head from Neha. “It is obvious you have a right to the blood debt.” Her eyes flicked to Elena, Majda, and Jean-Baptiste. “For the sake of formalities, do you claim the two vampires as family?”
“Yes.” He turned to Favashi. “Will you dispute?”
A shake of her head. “Jean-Baptiste’s term of service at Lumia ended four decades ago. He is free to choose his allegiance.”
“The copy of your consort is young, Raphael,” Michaela said, hip cocked, one hand placed on that hip. “She remains within her Contract period, will have to serve it out to whoever owns her.”
Jean-Baptiste closed his hand tightly over his wife’s as Majda’s face went white. Jaw rigid, he said, “Gian Made her by force. There is no Contract.”
His words were live grenades thrown into the room. The Making of vampires was strictly regulated. Each archangel had his or her own rules, but there were rules. Angels couldn’t simply go around Making vampires; they needed the permission of at least one of the Cadre, though that permission might be given once and hold for millennia.
There were meant to be no vampires in the world who did not trace back to at least one of the Cadre, even if the thread was a nebulous one where the Cadre member would not interfere in the vampire’s existence except in very rare circumstances. It had to do with the balance of the world, with blood and with life.
“I believe most are truly dead,” Jean-Baptiste said when Raphael looked at him. “Gian taunted us during our captivity with stories of all the ‘inconvenient’ guards he and his cohort had murdered without repercussion.” The vampire spoke with clear-eyed focus, his assurance a testament to his spirit. “He meant to frighten us into believing him omnipotent—he told us he was the final law in Lumia and even archangels didn’t question his word.”
“Liar.” The rasp of sound came from Gian, his vocal cords clearly recovering.
Ten archangelic heads turned toward the Luminata. None of the looks were friendly. It was Elijah who spoke. “I have lost three vampires over the past three and a half centuries. Two to an apparent freak accident during combat training when they attacked each other with too much force, one to a disappearance that was never explained except as a desertion of his post.”
“Ibrahim is mine,” Neha confirmed, crouching down again to touch his hand gently with her own before she rose. “A vampire seconded to Lumia was also said to have deserted out of boredom.”
“Two,” Michaela snapped. “Two of my most talented young angelic warriors, seconded here as squadron leaders for a short term because Lumia is considered a prestigious position and I wanted them to have that experience on their records.”
I keep forgetting she’s an actual archangel, Elena said. One who obviously rules well since her territory is stable. Then she says something like that.
Never forget no archangel is one-dimensional. It was a lesson that could well save her life one day.
“One,” Titus said in his booming voice. “A young vampire who disappeared without a trace and who, it was told to me, had been aggressive before he strode off into the darkness never to be seen again.”
In the end, the Cadre confirmed they’d lost a total of at least twenty-five vampires as well as ten angels over the centuries since Gian took leadership. Most of the latter had been seconded as squadron leaders.
The number wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but fighters with enough promise to be sent to Lumia were considered valuable assets and many had personal relationships with their archangels—or with the weapons masters of those archangels. They had been missed. The only reason no one had connected the dots was because the disappearances and deaths had been spread out across many archangelic territories and over centuries.
“Why did they die?” The question came from Alexander, and it was directed not at Gian, but at Jean-Baptiste. “Did Gian boast of his reasons?”
Once more, even in the face of an Ancient’s regard, the vampire held his ground.
Any archangel would be proud to have your grandfather in his forces, hbeebti.
Pride tinged the silver-rimmed gray of his consort’s eyes when she smiled at him.
“They began to ask questions,” Jean-Baptiste said.
“Liar!” Gian’s attempt at a yell was only a slightly louder rasp that everyone ignored, their attention on the vampire who was Elena’s blood.
“All of the ones who are gone were highly intelligent,” the other man said, “and they weren’t willing to look the other way when they realized Lumia was breaking the rules that permit it to be a self-governing society.”
Shoulder muscles bunched and his feet set firmly apart, he said, “The current squadrons are all privately sourced and paid for with the money the Luminata bring in with them when they pledge to Lumia—it means there is no risk the men will have any loyalty but to Lumia.”
Majda spoke into the pause, gripping at the back of her husband’s forearm and voice trembling. Yet she would not be silenced. “He calls himself the King of Kings, a man beyond the reach of anyone on this earth.”
Michaela would’ve fried Gian on the spot if Raphael hadn’t held up a hand. “I call blood debt.”
Everyone froze.
He waited for a challenge, but what he got was an incline of the head from Neha. “It is obvious you have a right to the blood debt.” Her eyes flicked to Elena, Majda, and Jean-Baptiste. “For the sake of formalities, do you claim the two vampires as family?”
“Yes.” He turned to Favashi. “Will you dispute?”
A shake of her head. “Jean-Baptiste’s term of service at Lumia ended four decades ago. He is free to choose his allegiance.”
“The copy of your consort is young, Raphael,” Michaela said, hip cocked, one hand placed on that hip. “She remains within her Contract period, will have to serve it out to whoever owns her.”
Jean-Baptiste closed his hand tightly over his wife’s as Majda’s face went white. Jaw rigid, he said, “Gian Made her by force. There is no Contract.”
His words were live grenades thrown into the room. The Making of vampires was strictly regulated. Each archangel had his or her own rules, but there were rules. Angels couldn’t simply go around Making vampires; they needed the permission of at least one of the Cadre, though that permission might be given once and hold for millennia.
There were meant to be no vampires in the world who did not trace back to at least one of the Cadre, even if the thread was a nebulous one where the Cadre member would not interfere in the vampire’s existence except in very rare circumstances. It had to do with the balance of the world, with blood and with life.
