“Yeah, that’d be great.”
Reese and I spent the next hour or so roaming campus before heading to the library as we were instructed. Whitmore’s library proved to be just as magnificent as the rest of the school, if not more. Cathedral vaulted ceilings rested overhead, intricate stone and oak paneling filled the walls with detailed carvings of angels, numerous candelabra wall sconces lit the outside aisles of the bookshelves, and the floor was brightly polished marble.
A librarian directed us to a small oak furnished room at the back of the library behind a section of studying tables where Madsen was already waiting. We headed inside, and the doctor closed the door behind us.
He’d taken the chair beside the entrance, so Reese and I took our places on the other side of the research table. Madsen suddenly lobbed a coin at the both of us. We each caught them, seeing intricate patterns embossed on the surfaces.
“Well, you’re not Hellhounds, so that’s at least an upside.”
The coin. It was made of silver. “How did you-”
An unmistakable click registered in front of us, and we both paled as we raised our heads to the good ole doctor…and the barrel of the gun now aimed between us.
So much for a good ‘feeling.’
Chapter 24
Fallen
Reese and I slowly drew up our hands.
“I wouldn’t recommend doing that,” my companion said. “Everyone saw us walk in here. The moment you shoot, they’ll sound the alarm. They’ll know it was you.”
“That’s where you’re mistaken. They won’t, because they won’t hear any of it,” remarked the doctor, nodding overhead. We angled our heads to see the gigantic face of a clock. The second hand moved, but no typical ticking was being produced.
“You put a ward over the room,” Reese gritted.
“A what?” I murmured.
“Magic. It prevents anyone from eavesdropping so long as they’re outside the projected range,” he clarified. Like what Reese had used in our own school’s library.
“Magic?” My eyes traveled to the doctor’s left arm, and the man immediately withdrew it from the table surface. “You’re a…a Mage.”
“And this is loaded with bullets made from Angelorum steel,” growled Madsen, repositioning the gun on me. “Doesn’t matter what you are. I pull the trigger; you die.”
“It seems we got off on the wrong foot here,” I said shakily. “All we wanted was a few answers.”
He smirked, but there was no amusement behind his eyes. “This isn’t my first rodeo, girl.” The doctor cocked his head, looking to Reese. “Interesting accessory you’re sporting there.”
Reese looked down bemusedly at the vintage pocket watch hanging from his vest.
“I meant the inside.” Madsen gestured to his jacket. “You should do a better job concealing your hardware if you really wish to play junior assassin.”
I gave a sideways glance, and sure enough, I could see the outline of one of Reese’s blades resting against his torso through the fabric.
Crap.
“Let me take a wild guess; your Regent sent you two to knock me off. Is that it?”
“Our…Regent?” I looked to Reese again for clarification.
“Sir, we’re not Reapers. We don’t have an affiliation.” The doctor sneered, but Reese slowly raised his left hand higher until the fabric of his sleeve fell down his forearm, revealing the metallic ink.
“By the Angel…” The doctor heaved a relieved sigh. That is, until he turned his attention to me. “What about you?”
“Same,” confirmed Reese.
“I’d show you, but I’m kind of afraid to move,” I said weakly, still seeing the gun aimed at me.
Madsen finally had the decency to lower it, allowing us to drop our hands as well. Reese removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, showing the doctor his runes. Madsen returned the gesture, and I could make out several matching symbols on each of their arms. None of which I had.
“How did you find me?” asked Madsen.
“We weren’t looking for you, per se. We just wanted to know if anybody could tell us what that thing is,” said Reese, nodding to his sketch on top of the table.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because it attacked us.”
Any relief the doctor had vanished. “How did you fend it off?”
We shared another puzzled side-glance. “We don’t really know what happened. It just kind of…vanished.”
Madsen settled back in his seat, his skin going gray. “It’s a spectral warrior called the Moraine, recognized as a chief assassin and henchman of the Underworld. The Moraine is known for maiming and paralyzing its victims before devouring their livers, and it can only be summoned or recalled by its master. The high prince of Hell, Sitri.”