Angelopolis(104)

Evangeline stared at Lucien a beat too long, and Verlaine knew that something had passed between

the two angels, something that he could never understand completely.

“We’ve met before?”

“Once, when you were just a baby, I held you in my arms. Your mother brought you to me.”

“You knew my mother?” Evangeline asked.

“You were so fragile when I held you, so small, so human that I could only bear to keep you in my

arms a moment. I was afraid I would hurt you. I could never have imagined what you would become.”

“But why?” Evangeline asked. “Why did my mother bring me to you?”

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for many years,” Lucien said.

Verlaine stepped forward. “Evangeline,” he said, holding out his hand. “We have to get out of

here.”

“I am here to tell you everything,” Lucien said. “But in your heart you know already that I am your

father.”

Evangeline stood in silence for many minutes. Then she looked from Lucien to Verlaine and, before

Verlaine could prepare himself, she kissed him, pressing her body against his with passion and

tenderness.

“Go,” she said, pushing him gently away. “Get out of here. You have to get aboveground before it’s

too late.”



The Ninth Circle

TREACHERY

Chelyabinsk, Russia

As Verlaine opened his eyes, he understood that he was lying in a snowy field. He couldn’t say how

long he had slept. The snow around him was stained with blood; he realized that it was his own. His

leg was injured; the wound to his head had opened yet again. As he examined the cut to his leg, he

remembered crawling out of the panopticon, fire rising around him, the noise of explosions ringing in

his ears. Looking back toward the prison, he saw that the only landmark remaining was a plume of

smoke rising in the far distance. The whole compound had collapsed.

A sound grew in his ears, a buzzing as grating and persistent as an insect. It was a truck

approaching through the snow. As it got closer, Verlaine could make out Dmitri at the wheel of a

Lada Niva. Yana jumped out of the backseat, leaving Bruno—whom Verlaine could see was badly

injured—hunched against the door. A man Verlaine didn’t recognize followed behind Yana and

Dmitri. He greeted Verlaine and offered his hand, introducing himself as Azov and explaining that

he’d come at Vera’s request.

“What happened in there?” Verlaine asked Dmitri, brushing the snow from his clothes.

“Exactly what Godwin hoped would happen,” Dmitri said. His face was streaked black, his

clothes singed.

“Is he inside?” Verlaine asked.

“There’s no way to know for sure,” Dmitri said.

Verlaine felt his heart sink. Godwin could be inside, or he could have escaped. He could be

anywhere.

“What about the nuclear plant?” Verlaine asked.

“It’s supposed to be able to resist this kind of rupture,” Dmitri said, glancing over his shoulder at

the rising smoke. “But I don’t think we should stay and take our chances. We have to get as far from

here as we can. Now.”

“We can’t leave,” Verlaine said. “Not yet.”

“If we stay,” Dmitri said, pointing to the far side of the field, “we face that.”

The escaped prisoners—every variety of angel—filled the landscape. Verlaine scanned the chaos

of movement, searching for Evangeline, spotting her everywhere and nowhere at once until, in the

center of it all, he found her. She walked hand in hand with Lucien at the edge of the panopticon.

Verlaine saw, as they walked closer, the image of the father in his child. The delicate shape of her

face, the large eyes, the luminosity that surrounded her—it was obvious that Evangeline and Lucien

were made of the same ethereal substance.

“Evangeline has to come with us,” Verlaine said, feeling more helpless by the second.

“I don’t know if Lucien will allow that,” Azov said, looking circumspect. “We traveled together

for thousands of miles. I know his strength, but also, more important, I know that he is a gentle and

kind creature, one whose motives are good. Evangeline, if I can believe what I’ve heard about her,

would never fight against him, or allow you to harm him. If you want to bring Evangeline with you,

there is only one certain way.”

Azov removed a vessel from his pocket and showed it to Verlaine. He remembered Vera’s

confidence that Azov could help her understand Rasputin’s journal. Somehow they had succeeded in

making the formula.

Verlaine reached for the vessel, but Azov stopped him. Instead he started toward the angels