Red?
As far as she knew, there were no red-winged angels in the city, but she was no expert. Many angels also had delicate markings—one could have tiny red feathers on the inner curve of a wing, for example. “Do you recognize it?” Angelic colors tended to be highly distinctive. No one in New York would ever mistake one of Illium’s for one of Raphael’s, or one of Jason’s for one of Aodhan’s.
“No.” Janvier rose to his feet, handed the feather to Illium. “You know who this is?”
A chill iced Illium’s expression. “There are two options that make sense.”
“Red,” Naasir said, a growl in his voice, “is unusual among angels.” His eyes met Illium’s. “Xi and Cornelius.”
Ashwini’s mind filled with an image of wings of gray streaked by vivid red, her skin pebbling. “Wasn’t Xi—”
“—one of Lijuan’s generals?” Illium completed. “Yes.”
Naasir spoke again. “Not the oldest or the most powerful, but favored because of his intelligence.”
“Cornelius,” Illium added, “is a lower-ranked general. His wings are a heavy cream for the most part except for a scattering of red across the top arches.”
“Illium!”
Turning toward the doorway, Ashwini saw a slender black-haired vampire with a scarf around his neck walking toward them. He must’ve arrived in the area after them, she realized when Janvier introduced him as Trace.
His voice was hoarse as he said, “I had a hunch, with Giorgio being scientifically trained. Dug around in the other warehouse.” Trace opened his palm. On it sat a tiny ziplock bag with a few crystalline granules colored a reddish brown.
Ashwini recognized it from Janvier’s description of the new designer vampire drug that was the reason for Lacey’s horrific murder.
“Supply or creation?” Illium asked after taking the bag.
“Creation. There are tools. Nothing elaborate, but enough.” Trace glanced around. “Giorgio must’ve separated out his drug operation from his sadistic games”—utter distaste in his voice—“because the other warehouse already had the right setup for it.”
“See if you can discover anything else about the origins of the drug,” Illium said, his glance taking in all four of them. “I’ll alert Raphael that it appears either Cornelius or Xi somehow managed to remain behind in the city, or return to it after the rest of Lijuan’s forces retreated.”
The angel couldn’t technically give Ashwini an order, but this was one order with which she had no argument. First, however, they finished going over the warehouse. Ashwini found another tiny red feather, this one with a tip of rich cream. Xi, she remembered, had no cream in his wings. Still, she double-checked with Naasir and Janvier, received the same answer.
That narrowed their target down to a single angel: Cornelius.
“They were careful,” Janvier said, his hand touching her lower back. “Must’ve picked up any larger feathers.”
“No.” She stared at the tiny feather as Naasir contacted Illium with the updated information. “They had no reason to be careful—Giorgio was so sure he couldn’t be tracked that he used a warehouse held under his own name. There’s something wrong with this feather.” Holding it cupped carefully in the palm of her hand, she walked outside into the light. “Do you see it?”
First Janvier, then Naasir examined the feather. Even Trace. None could see anything wrong, and when she looked at it in their hands, she couldn’t, either. But as soon as she took it, she felt it again, the wrongness. “There’s something wrong with Cornelius, then,” she said, skin crawling. “Very, very wrong.”