Archon(115)

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Not yet.” Stephanie’s expression was even harder than before. “Israfel would have opened her by now, if he could.”

Oh, how tempting it was to stab her through the heart and be done with it. The only thing stopping him was the deadly expression on Stephanie’s face, one that prickled his instinct to tread as carefully as he still could.

But, oh, it was hard.

“You needed to know,” Stephanie said, pouncing on his hesitation. “By the way, Kim, I told the students inside St. Mary’s that Angela was the one responsible for Maribel’s death. Even if she tries to enjoy a normal life in Luz, they’ll arrest her for witchcraft and homicide. That is, if I or Naamah don’t reach her first.”

He had nothing to say.

Maybe he had lost this round. Unable to kill Stephanie, especially with her new and lethal abilities. Unable to keep Angela from Naamah’s grasp, even if he won the battle.

“I’m not stupid, Kim. Even if you can’t protect Angela from me,” Stephanie whispered, “I know you’re trying in your own pathetic little way. Right now, we both know I could kill you on the spot. Well, since you’ve rejected your second chance, maybe it’s time to put you to sleep at last—like the unfaithful puppy you are.”

A faint red glow outlined her hand.

“You see”—and the green of her eyes flickered to a terrible and familiar shade—“I started playing these petty games long before you even had the chance.”

More shadows darkened the insides of the room.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Stephanie turned to the right, frighteningly fast. She stared beyond Kim, out the small space of window left open by his thick drapes. It was the first and possibly only time that sound would equal his salvation.

“Like I said,” he said, his heart still racing, “angels tend to drop in unexpectedly.”

The bow window smashed, glass spraying into the room. Kim ducked, covering his head while the embroidered draperies crumpled to the floor, the bar that held them in place swinging violently against the wall. The candelabra flames whisked into smoke.

Troy landed right by his side, facing Stephanie.

Her wings, their great sickles tucked tightly to enter through the narrow space, flared out again like a living darkness. Kim rose steadily back to his feet, actually delighted that his cousin had arrived at the right moment. But she hadn’t arrived alone. Fury soared in behind her, landing on her shoulder to caw and cackle with greed.

Lyrica Pengold lay dead and bloody in Troy’s arms.

It was almost impossible to tell where her red tights ended and the carnage began.

Her chest was torn open, her heart removed. The lower half of Troy’s face was sticky with blood, and her teeth dripped with crimson saliva. She tossed the body at Stephanie, laughing in the raspy way that could stick in Kim’s nightmares for days. Lyrica rolled to Stephanie’s feet, face frozen in openmouthed terror.

“She was looking for you,” Troy said. “But I thought she’d get here faster by air.”

Stephanie screamed, but quickly choked off into a deadly silence, like another person had snapped her mouth shut.

Troy vanished into the darkness of the room.

The tide had now turned considerably.

There was a sudden noise above them, and Stephanie lifted her faintly glowing hand, ready to blast Kim’s cousin like she’d blasted Israfel, but it was impossible to keep track of how Troy scampered between the shadows. She turned to Kim, wordlessly demanding an explanation.

“A Jinn,” he said to her, aware that his triumph was impossible to hide. “My other half.”

“It will die with you,” Stephanie murmured, hardly sounding sure of herself.

She seemed to consider killing him one last time, but after another glance at Lyrica, a trickle of tears appeared.

Surprisingly, Troy allowed her to escape the room screaming as she slammed the door.

Then the shouts began and the hurried voices, and the harsh knocks, demanding that he open up. Stephanie knew what she was doing by escaping instead of fighting. She could have told the novices anything, and none of it would be in Kim’s favor. Lyrica’s corpse would be hard to explain away, especially with her heart removed. He was now as much an outlaw and fugitive as Angela.

“A fine performance, Troy. It deserves a round of applause.”

Troy’s eyes blinked open on the far side of the room. “Oh, but this one’s my parting gift, Sariel. No more sinewy flesh between my teeth.” Her growl was low and thick. “You understand this is your end? I’m finding myself insatiably hungry for the blood of a half-breed. Especially,” she snarled, “one who deserves the same death as his father.”