Ashes of Angels (13 page)

S
am hastened up the stairs, and when he sensed the malevolent presence in the vicinity of Cassandra's loft, he leaped, taking an entire run of stairs in a bound.

Her door hung twisted from the top hinge, and amidst the catastrophe of her scattered furniture and personal items, six vampires snooped, tossed and destroyed. At sight of him, the living room window shattered and one of them escaped.

Vacillating on whether to go after the one who'd alighted or take on the others, Sam decided the scared one could go. He liked a challenge.

The next vampire sighted him just as Sam reached to shove his fingers into its chest. The heart pulsed once in his hand. He tore it out and flung it away. The vamp dropped silently.

Two vampires charged him. Another aimed a pistol Sam figured he'd found in Cassandra's arsenal, and fired.

The bullet skimmed his skull, and cool blood drooled over his eyelid. He blinked at it, and lost focus on the brigade that
pummeled him backward to the floor. Two vamps went at him, punching ribs and kicking his all-feeling kidneys. He did not like the pain that accompanied this mortal form.

With a gesture, Sam flung off his attackers from his body. One vamp collided with the wall skull-first, and stuck there in the hole formed by his head, the other vampire smashed into the one who'd shot him.

The vampire missing a heart turned over and went on all fours. He searched the pooled blood for his heart. With enemies who weren't much for death, this battle was going to prove a challenge.

 

The vampire, tossed carelessly toward her while she stood in the doorway, gaped at the sight of her, then flashed a fangy grin as his body collided with hers. She pushed him off, yet he wasn't in the mood for dancing. Growling, he lunged for her.

Cassandra had not come unprepared. She had just enough time to position the stake, and with a squeeze, the vamp's lascivious smirk disappeared into a cloud of dark ash.

Sputtering out the nasty ash, Cassandra assessed the situation before rushing into chaos. One pile of vamp ash in the kitchen. One in the doorway behind her. The living room window was smashed, likely where they'd entered. But that didn't explain the busted door.

Currently, three vampires were attached to Sam. One bared his fangs and bit into Sam's arm.

“Stupid bloodsucker,” she muttered and walked in, yet she did not feel the need to go all kick-ass. Sam obviously had the situation under control.

The vamp who'd taken a bite looked up at her, blue blood drooling over his lips, which began to bubble. He slapped a hand to his mouth and jumped off Sam, leaving only two vampires attached to the angel. His whole body began to jitter, skin bubbling and veins expanding.

Cassandra stepped back and turned her head away to avoid what she expected to be—

The vampire burst into not ash but fleshy bits.

—a big freakin' explosion. Angel blood was never safe for vampire consumption.

“I will never get this mess cleaned up,” she said, looking over the gray velvet couch, stained with vampire bits and blood. “You need any help, Sam?”

A vampire flew and landed on the couch on his spine, arching backward in a painful crunch that would have broken a mortal's back.

Sam swung the halo across a vampire's throat, reducing his opponent to ash. “Oh, hey, Cassandra. Just making some new friends.”

“I can see that.”

“I've got everything under control.”

“So I should have saved the one you tossed at me for you?”

“Did I toss a vampire at you? That was rude.”

He jumped up, and the couch vampire made a lunge for him. Swinging out the halo, without even looking, Sam managed to catch the bloodsucker across the chest, cutting deep. Cassandra ducked to avoid the spatter.

“Sorry,” he said. “I'll make sure the place is cleaned up.”

“By who? Crime-scene cleaners? This is a nightmare.”

“But all the vamps are dead.”

“And the reason they were here is also dead with them.”

“Actually, I think they were looking for your book.”

“The book?”

“The one with the sigils and names.”

She gaped at him. “I told you it was all on the computer.”

“You wouldn't have destroyed the original,” he said, confident of his knowledge.

Granny Stevens had written down everything inside that journal and Cassandra had drawn the sigils she'd dreamed with
the correlating names. It was irreplaceable. And she didn't have it all scanned onto the hard drive. Of course, she hadn't destroyed it.

“You're welcome,” Sam offered. The angel looked over the destruction and offered her a wince. “I'm sorry about the mess.”

“How did you know they'd be here? You were just in the bar with Zane. He said you had too much to drink. I don't understand?”

“Call it a hunch.”

A tangible fizzle occurred and, as expected, all blood in the room ashed, except the blue puddles, which were not vampire.

It freaked Cassandra so much she wanted to scream at the insanity of her life. But with a few deep breaths, she managed to keep it together. Now was no time to fall apart. The enemies were dead; that should give her some comfort.

“I suspect Antonio sent his minions after the book so he could summon more Fallen,” Sam said. “Zane said he'd only a few names matched to sigils. Seems like they've summoned all they can without your book.”

She nodded, scanning the floor, not at all relieved the crime scene had now turned into an ash convention.

“Are you okay?” He reached to touch her face, but she flinched and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

She downed a glass then leaned over the sink. For just a moment, she wanted the world to stop.
Hey, Cassandra, it's all a fairy tale your grandmother once told you. Angels aren't real, nor are vampires.

But it was real. And she was not one to tuck her head down and hide.

“What aren't you telling me, Sam?”

“Zane mentioned the book, and I wanted to get my hands on it.”

“For what purpose?”

“Suffice, it will be safer in my hands than the vampires'.”

She avoided looking down the hallway toward the bathroom. “It's not in your hands, and it's not going to be, either.”

He nodded, accepting but, she sensed, not forgetting. He wanted the book. For what reason? The sigils and names could only call forth more Fallen. Did he want to bring them here himself to then slay them? It didn't make sense, because if he did not summon them, they remained imprisoned in the Ninth Void—the best place for the Fallen.

Just when she'd decided trusting Sam was a good thing, now he changed the rules of the game.

“The vampires had to have come in a vehicle,” Sam said.

“There was a black van out front when I arrived,” she said. “Let's check it out.”

 

The black van pulled out of Cassandra's parking lot, but skidded on ice. Sam gripped her hand and began to run, and they were able to keep up for about a block. Apparently the vampire who had jumped through the window had been waiting around to see if his buddies returned.

“We need a car!” she called.

Sam stopped abruptly, and she slipped trying to stop. He turned and caught her as she slid into his embrace, her breath huffing out in clouds. “Caught ya.”

Oh, yes, he had. Caught against his hard muscles, sheltered by his overwhelming presence. And not minding at all. She could lay her head against his shoulder and cry after all she'd been through, but she resisted the urge to fall apart.

Sam had wanted the book as much as the vampires had
. She should have checked to be sure it was still safe.

“We can't do this on foot,” he said.

“The van is long gone,” she said. “But if you do your superspeedy run thing, you should be able to track him.”

He nodded and took off, but stopped and turned to her. “I'll be right back. I won't leave you alone.”

She snapped him a salute and told him to get going. It tugged at her heart to watch him run away. Taking all that awesomeness of man away from her. He was her only protection from the dark forces messing up her life.

“What are you thinking?” Shaking her head and slapping her arms across her chest, Cassandra turned and stalked toward her building. “He's better off without me.”

But she knew now she was not better off without him. She needed the supernaturally talented Fallen angel. He was fighting on her side. And with crazy vampires running rampant, and a freakin' nephilim stalking the city, she had to admit she didn't feel so confident anymore.

Had she grown into a false sense of confidence over the years? Training, learning, preparing for some cataclysmic event. Never actually having to put those skills to use against real danger. Had she ever truly believed it would come true?

A part of her had always hoped it would not manifest in reality, that Granny had been a little off her rocker. Because monsters weren't real and belonged underneath the bed, not on top of the bed trying to get into a girl's business. Those were the worst kind of monsters. The ones who would harm women for their own pleasure.

Stopping before the building, Cassandra scanned over her third-floor window. Dark, it did not reveal the havoc inside. Dead vampires everywhere, which were now only dark ash, but she wasn't sure about the blue blood spattering the white walls.

She winced, not wanting to go up but feeling a nudge inside her to man up, be a big girl and fight the good fight.

Problem was, the good fight was tough. It hurt. And it scared her.

But she had to stay strong for Coco. And for all the muses
in the world who weren't aware what the funny little brown mark on their arms meant. For Ophelia, who had discovered too late what her sigil meant.

“For yourself,” she whispered, stroking the sigil that did not flash blue right now because Sam was too far away. “You're not going to let them defeat you. You're twenty-seven freakin' years old. You haven't even begun to live.”

If taking out a few monsters who stood in the way of her enjoying life was required, then so be it.

Confidence giddied through her veins. Marching up the snowy front steps, Cassandra ran through the foyer and up the stairs. The iron railing hugging the last flight was bent, and she couldn't force it back into shape. The landlord would never believe the truth—that a demon had landed on it while battling with an angel.

“Wonder why none of my neighbors heard the fight? Does no one notice when vampires break in and loot someone's place?”

It was early evening. Most on her floor were still at work or just driving into rush-hour traffic now.

As she stepped around the hanging door into the loft, her cell phone rang. “Coco? You and Zane have any luck?”

“We did. Ivan Drake had information about a new influx of vampires within the last few days. We're going to look for them later, but in the mean time I just got a call from Lucinda, the muse from Ireland.”

“Hell, I forgot about the others. They were all flying here together.”

“Yep, and their flight just landed. Zane and I are headed to the airport to put them back on flights.”

“Good thinking. Send them anywhere but here, Coco.”

“Will do. While we're at it, Ivan said the Anakim may be found south of the Waldfriedhof.”

“That's a cemetery.”

“It is? That makes no sense. Zane said vamps aren't about the gruesome and coffins and things.”

“Yeah, but maybe those vampires are stuck in the dark like tribe Anakim are. We'll check it out. You get those muses safe. Talk soon. Bye.”

She swept a look over the havoc in her flat. Holes were punched in the wall, and how had those ceiling tiles gotten smashed out? “I'll definitely lose my deposit for this.”

Deciding she could not return to this tattered remnant of her life until after the vampires had been stopped, Cassandra made quick reconnaissance, gathering a change of clothes, the Taser, her bank info and the flash drive with all her important financial records. Granny's grimoire and…

Cassandra's heart dropped. The book of sigils and names was not behind the tiles beside the toilet tank, because that wall had been smashed open, likely by a vampire. That was not good on too many levels to imagine.

Hooking her backpack over a shoulder, she walked into the bedroom to see if she might have missed anything. Her eyes swept over the silver angel.

The wings were cool under her fingers, yet the sculpture warmed the more she maintained contact with the silver. “Just like Sam.”

Maybe that was the key? She needed to stay close to him, keep their connection strong, to maintain his humanity and keep him grounded in this mortal realm.

Maybe then he'd give up the idea of returning Above.

Because you want him to stay
. “Worth a try.”

She sped down the stairs and met Sam at the front door.

“I've found them,” he said.

“Waldfriedhof?”

“I didn't get the address, but there is a graveyard nearby.”

“That's the place Coco verified with the vampire Council member.”

“I can lead you there.”

“They have the book, Sam. I'd hidden the book in the bathroom….”

“We'll get it back. It's imperative. Come on.”

T
he cemetery Coco had directed them to was surrounded by a dense urban forest. They decided to park a ways off so as not to draw attention to their arrival. And Sam wanted to reconnoiter for guards along the way. He said he could home in on the vampires' vibrations.

Cassandra plunged through the slushy snow after him. “How does that work? You homing in on vampires. You got super vampire senses? I thought vampires couldn't tell if they were standing next to another vampire unless they actually touched?”

“I can sense them, as I sensed your sister's boyfriend. It's like their shimmer when touching.”

“Okay, but don't call Zane that, please. I'm having a little trouble wrapping my head around Coco dating a man who bites her.”

“He bites her?”

She winced. “Yes.”

“Kinky.”

“And you know about kink, Mr. I've Only Been on Earth A Few Days?”

“I spent an hour in Las Vegas. I learned a lot there.”

She caught his smile, laced with sly memory. “A whole hour? And you must have spent a night walking the world, so that's about six to eight hours.”

“Six, exactly.”

And he'd spent a sixth of that time in Vegas? Wow. “Learn any gambling tricks?”

“No, but do you know the showgirls walk around without anything to cover their breasts?”

“It is common knowledge. Did you enjoy that? Wait. Stupid question. Let's move along, shall we? And you keep your showgirl fantasies to yourself.”

“Yes, let's hurry. And I promise to keep my fetish for rhinestone-studded panties a secret. Oops.”

Shaking her head and laughing at his coy flirtations, Cassandra tracked close behind Sam.

He paused as they gained the train tracks hugging the urban forest that surrounded the cemetery. Heeling the track with his heavy boot, Sam closed his eyes and she thought he might be feeling for vibrations. She wasn't sure what his angel powers were, beyond strength, but she had seen him move a vampire without touching him, so he had some kind of telepathic judo going on.

Tugging her hand, Sam led her down the tracks.

“We should have split up the angel ash,” she said, “in case we get separated and they run into the nephilim before we do.” Coco had commandeered the Ziploc bag with the ash. “I sure hope she brought it along.”

“If not, her vampire will protect her.”

“Yes, but they both seemed to have forgotten Coco was supposed to stay out of this.”

Sam stopped center of the tracks and pulled her into a surprising embrace. “Zane does love her.”

“How do you know? Did he tell you when you two were down at the bar? Because vampires lie.”

“Everyone lies, Cassandra. And it wasn't that he told me, but I heard it in his voice. He adores your sister. And much as I'd prefer to stake him for the sake of taking out a vampire, I know he's a good man.”

“But he's from the very tribe who are attempting to capture the nephilim.”

“Which has its advantages. Trust me, I know your sister is in good hands.”

He kissed her then, and his lips quickly warmed against hers, and when she wanted to slip her hands under his shirt and melt against him, he nudged her onward.

Sighing, Cassandra wished her life would have tossed her this eligible bachelor before the world decided to end. And in human form, pretty please, one with a soul.

 

Antonio del Gado closed the red leather-bound journal and patted it reverently. He'd summoned another Fallen, and had plans to summon yet another after confirmation was received on the location of this one. He couldn't go about willy-nilly bringing Fallen to earth unless his scout marked their landing. Otherwise the summons would be worthless.

Such a coup Westing had found this book. He deserved a promotion, and the man would have it. But what could he give a vampire who could already walk in the sun?

Perhaps a delicious blood slave. Or a witch. Yes! A witch from whom he could drain her magic and gain power. He'd see to locating one as Westing's reward.

And when finally Antonio could walk in the light, he would take a witch for himself and gain earth, air and water magic.
After centuries of shrinking from his enemies as the sun slashed the horizon, he would never again cower.

“There's movement in the north, boss.” Bruce opened the laptop. “I think it's the Fallen you just summoned. One of my men was able to tag him with the GPS gun Rovonsky made. Look at it move.”

The map on the screen showed a green dot moving from Germany to France, and toward Spain. That quickly.

“He's walking the world,” Bruce confirmed. “We'll nab him when he circles back to Berlin.”

“How do you know it'll circle back?”

“I don't, but there are a bunch of muses on their way here. He'll find them sooner or later.”

“Good work, Westing. Now go out and see if you can tag Samandiriel. Or the muse. One or the other, and then we'll be able to use them both.”

“I'm on it, boss.”

 

Even through her coat, Cassandra felt Sam's hand on her shoulder as they walked side by side. He was always initially cold, but took on her heat quickly. She liked to think they made their own heat, and that one needed the other to flame such a fire.

Silly romantic stuff.

Coco had been right. Finally a handsome, interesting man lands—literally—in her life and she has to worry about saving the world instead of batting her lashes at him.

“I like you, Cassandra.”

Startled by the strange, breathy confession, she did a double take on the angel's expression. Face forward, his eyes briefly darted to hers, and a boyish grin captured his sexy mouth.

“Is that okay to say?”

And here she'd been denying all the romantic silliness jig
gling about in her brain. Very well, who said a girl couldn't fight some monsters and have a little fun at the same time?

“Yes, it is,” she offered decidedly. “Do you know what like is?”

“Is it me wanting to be with you all the time, and when we're not speaking, always wondering what you've got going on in your mind? And me unable to see any other woman when you are near me because your beauty distracts me?”

Wow. “Uh, sure. That sounds like like.”

“Do you like me, Cassandra?”

“What, no bunny?” The wind swept up snowflakes in a glitter before them. “I do. I wonder what goes on inside your head and want to know more about you. And I dreamed you before you came to me, so what's that all about? I've never believed in destiny, but maybe there's something to it. And you are incredible to look at.”

“I also admire your smart mouth.”

“Do you now?”

“It's sexy. Better than a Las Vegas showgirl's rhinestone-encrusted—”

“All right, buddy. Just know I don't do rhinestones, so that's a fantasy you're going to have to keep close to the vest.”

“You outshine the cheap paste jewel. You could outshine silver.”

“I'm not sure about that.”

“I am. I like the ribbons in your hair, too. How do they stay in there?”

“They're woven in. You really like them? They're something that sets me apart from other women, but some guys assume I'm too edgy.”

“I like edgy. That means you know how to kick a vampire's arse, right?”

She chuckled. “Oh, yeah. But my skills tend to threaten men
who want a frilly little woman who looks sexy all the time and wouldn't dream of showing them up in a fistfight.”

“I can relate to those men.”

“You can?” Here she'd thought Sam different than the others. “You're starting to take on the ways of the world, I guess.” And her idea that staying close to him, always connecting, may just be helping.

“I said I can relate, but that doesn't mean I prefer a weak woman. You're perfect for me, bunny.”

She tugged the tie strings of her hat and beamed up at him.

“So what comes after like?”

“I'm not sure.” Oh, yes, she was. Love came next. Or was that infatuation? Worship? Tenderness? “A mix of things probably.”

“Such as? More than kissing?”

She ducked her head to hide a shy smile. The man did like to kiss. And how much did she like kissing him? Enough to stop the world and steal another kiss before the world stopped them?

Cassandra stepped out in front of Sam and threaded her arms about his neck when he walked into her embrace. “If you're so curious as to what comes next, you should start exploring. You might find something you like.”

“I'm already at like, I want to go beyond.” His colorful eyes smiled wider than his mouth. Such a sexy, roguish smile. “Will you let me go beyond?”

“Yes.” She went on tiptoe and kissed him, wishing he weren't so tall and she so short, because she couldn't get a good connection. Then he lifted her and placed her on the rail track so she met his height.

Pausing amidst the chaos, they kissed sweetly at first, testing one another with glances and dotting their mouths together quickly, then slower, then quick again. The playful connection chased away her anxiety.

Cassandra surrendered to her desires, and with her guidance, Sam's motions became more amorous and needy. The squeeze of his hand along her ribs claimed her. And for a moment she wanted to be one of those frilly women who looked to their man for protection.

She'd never had a man to protect her before and had always scoffed at the idea. She could take care of herself. Mostly. In a way, they were equals, both focused on a mission, yet Sam allowed her to wear her strength as the badge she'd earned. She'd never had that from previous lovers.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes darting back and forth between hers, and whispered wistfully, “Vampires.”

“Right.” She kissed his chin and his jaw, and lower to his neck. “We should go after them.”

“Uh-huh.” His fingers traced her jaw as they kissed on the mouth again, deepening the kiss with their tongues and tasting each other as if starved for something they could only get from the other. “Should go.”

His cool hand slid under the neck of her sweater and a finger almost managed to flick her nipple, but the tight neckline wouldn't allow it.

Frustrated, Cassandra stepped back. “Right. Save the world, and all that rubbish. Rain check?”

“Rain? In the winter?”

“That means, can we put a bookmark in this embrace and save it for later?”

“Ah. Rain check. Yes, I can do that, so long as we don't have to literally wait for the rain.”

“Come on, angel boy.” She clasped his hand and tugged him along the tracks.

“You're holding my hand.”

“I'm leading you,” she corrected.

“So, it's not like an official hand hold?”

“Uh…” She shrugged. “Why?”

“Just…nothing at all. Lead on, bunny.”

An oncoming train sounded its horn, and Sam lifted her and spun her away from the tracks to walk alongside the swiftly moving freight cars. Cassandra's laughter was muted by the noise.

If Granny Stevens could see her now, she would clap, and up would bubble her infectious laughter celebrating Cassandra's happiness.

Then she would rap Cassandra across the back of her hand for even speaking to a Fallen one, let alone kissing one.

A metallic thump sounded close by. Sam shoved her roughly. “Get away.”

“What?”

She
felt
the sweep of wing before she saw it. As she stumbled across the snow, she touched her cheek where it burned. Blood splattered on the dirty snow. Red blood. The wing had cut her.

Behind her, a Fallen angel leaped from the top of a freight car and collided with Sam, forcing them both to ground in a grapple of fists, legs and wings.

Wings of green glass?

“Jade,” she murmured, and shuffled farther away across the snow. The vampires had succeeded in summoning yet another Fallen. And it obviously recognized Sam as the outlaw.

The jade angel stretched out his arms and roared in that awful sound that had Cassandra scrambling to plug her ears. But before she did, she noticed the glowing blue sigil on the side of its neck.

“Hurry, Coco, this one is close to his muse.”

 

The Berlin airport was unusually crowded for the midnight hour. Coco clutched Zane's hand as they scanned the arrival gates for the muses. “I don't know what any of them looks like.”

Zane kissed her cheek. The scar that cut through his left eye and rendered it white didn't disturb her at all. It never had. “Relax, love. Don't panic.”

“I'm not panicking.”

“Oh, yes, you are. You've got that openmouthed, wide-eyed, I'm-freaked look going on right now. We'll find them. Have I ever let you down?”

“No, you're always there for me. When angels come after me, you slay them. When the neighborhood dog chased me down the street, you barked at it. Heh. That poor dog hasn't barked or chased me since.”

He kissed her deeply, and Coco abandoned her panic. Just like that. Zane's kisses always did that to her. “Whew! And when you kiss me, you make the world right.”

Another kiss and a squeeze of her hand. “Maybe just a small portion of it. Someone's crying?”

He tugged her toward a sitting area where the crowd had backed away because a huddle of women stood around a loudly crying woman.

When they got close enough and she could see between two of the women standing before her, Coco saw the glowing blue sigil on the wrist of the one who cried.

“The Fallen is close,” she said.

“Then we'd better not waste any time.”

Zane approached the group of women cautiously and introduced himself and Coco. They were relieved to see them, but the crying one babbled in Swiss, which was a language neither Zane nor Coco understood.

“Tell her we're going to put her on a plane,” Zane said to a petite red-haired muse.