Angelology(154)

“What do you mean?” Gabriella asked.

“Did you notice how Innocenta returns over and over to the discussion of visual images? It seems

that there were drawings or sketches or other artwork Abigail Rockefeller included in her letters,”

Verlaine said. “These visual images must be in the other half of the correspondence. Or they have

been lost.”

“You are quite right,” Gabriella said. “There is a pattern of some kind in the letters, and I am

certain that this will be confirmed once we read the other half of the correspondence. Surely the ideas

proposed by Innocenta were refined. Perhaps new suggestions were sent. Only when we can lay out

the correspondence side by side will we have the whole picture.”

She took the letters from Verlaine and paged through them once more, reading them over as if to

memorize the lines. Then she tucked them into her pocket. “We must be extremely careful,” she said.

“It is paramount that we keep these letters—and the secrets they point to—away from the Nephilim.

You are certain that Percival has not seen them?”

“You and Evangeline are the only people who have read them, but I did show him something else

that I wish he’d never seen.” Verlaine said, removing the architectural drawings from his bag.

Gabriella took the drawings and examined them with care, her expression turning grave. “This is

very unfortunate,” she said at last. “These give everything away. When he looked at these papers, did

he understand their significance?”

“He didn’t seem to think they were important.”

“Ah, good,” Gabriella said, smiling slightly. “Percival was wrong. We must go at once, before he

begins to understand what you have found.”

“And exactly what is it that I’ve found?” Verlaine asked, feeling that he might at last learn the

significance of the drawings and the golden seal at their center.

Gabriella placed the drawings on the table and pressed them flat with her hands. “These are a set

of instructions,” she said. “The seal at the center marks a location. If you notice, it is at the center of

the Adoration Chapel.”

“But why?” Verlaine asked, studying the seal for the hundredth time and wondering at its meaning.

Gabriella slipped into her black silk jacket and headed to the door. “Come with me to St. Rose

Convent, and I will explain everything.”

Fifth Avenue, Upper East Side, New York City

Percival waited in the lobby of his apartment building, his sunglasses shielding his eyes from the

unbearably bright morning. His mind was wholly absorbed in the situation at hand, one that had

suddenly become even more mystifying with Gabriella Lévi-Franche Valko’s involvement. Her

presence at Verlaine’s apartment was enough to signal that they had in fact hit upon something

significant. They would need to move immediately, before they lost track of Verlaine.

A black Mercedes SUV stopped before the building. Percival recognized the Gibborim that

Otterley had dispatched to kill Verlaine early that morning. They sat hunched in the front seat, crude,

unquestioning, without the intelligence or curiosity to wonder at Percival and Otterley’s superiority.

He recoiled at the thought of riding in the same vehicle with such beings—surely Otterley didn’t

expect that he would agree to such an arrangement. In his workings with lower life-forms, there were

certain lines he would not cross.

Otterley didn’t have such qualms. She emerged from the backseat composed as ever, her long

blond hair tied into a smooth knot, her fur-trimmed ski jacket zipped to her chin, and her cheeks

stained pink from the cold. To Percival’s great relief, she said a few words to the Gibborim and the

SUV sped away. Only then did Percival step outside to greet his sister for the second time that

morning, happily in a less compromised position than before.

“We will need to take my car,” Otterley said. “Gabriella Lévi-Franche Valko saw that vehicle

outside Verlaine’s apartment.”

The very articulation of Gabriella’s name withered his resolve. “Did you see her?”

“She has probably given every angelologist in New York the plate numbers,” Otterley said. “We’d

better use the Jag. I don’t want to take chances.”

“And what about the beasts?”

Otterley smiled—she, too, disliked working with Gibborim but would never deign to show it.

“I’ve sent them ahead. They have a specific area to cover. If they find Gabriella, they have been

instructed to seize her.”

“I very much doubt they will have the skill to catch her,” Percival said.