I rose to my feet and people hushed around me as I scanned the crowd. Where was Hannah? Earlier she’d been sitting at the side tables, but she wasn’t there now. Nor was she with Gadreel and Lilith, or Samael in the corner, or at the buffet or the bar. I didn’t see Azazel either, who was meant to stay on Hannah’s tail all night.
My chest tightened in panic. Where could Hannah have gone? Had someone taken her? Was I about to lose her again?
Clenching my fists, I strode through the crowd. They parted in front of me, out of respect or fear, and a quick search confirmed Hannah wasn’t in the ballroom anymore. I went to the elevator, wondering if she’d retreated to the penthouse, but it wasn’t working for some reason. Someone was going to pay for that later.
My heart beat faster as I launched through the door to the stairwell and took the steps two at a time, up a few flights to the parking garage. I looked left and right as I reached the top, taking in the empty space, and spotted a tiny crystal on the ground in the distance. From Hannah’s dress. She’d definitely come this way.
Maybe she hadn’t been taken. Maybe she had run away.
Was she upset by what she’d seen in there? Killing enemies was par for the course among supernaturals, but she still thought like a human. Dammit. I’d forgotten she was mortal, and how sensitive humans were to death and violence. She remembered nothing of her previous lives, which meant all of this was new to her. I’d only known her for seven days, and that wasn’t nearly enough for the truth about who she was to sink in. No wonder she’d panicked. She’d started the week meeting Lucas Ifer to beg for help in finding her lost friend, and she’d finished at a demon’s ball where Lucifer himself had killed traitors in front of her.
Before I could tame my thoughts, Azazel ran around the corner, wearing a short leather dress with blades strapped to her thighs. “Hannah!” She stopped and sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. “She’s been taken!”
“What happened?” I grabbed her shoulders and held her firmly at arm’s length as I searched her wild gaze. Azazel never panicked, but there was definitely something that had her spooked.
“I kept my eyes on Hannah all night, staying close to her from the shadows. When you executed those traitors, she freaked out and split. She ran for the elevator, but it didn’t come.”
“Then what?” I tried to keep my own panic from increasing. There weren’t many places I couldn’t rescue Hannah from. Except death.
“She ran up the stairs and took off walking through the alley. I followed in the shadows from a safe distance. She clearly needed to be alone, and I tried to respect that.”
My grip tightened on her shoulders. “And then?”
“An angel swooped down and picked her up before I could get close enough to stop them. I tried to go after them, but I was hit with a blast of light, stronger than I expected.” She ripped herself out of my arms, her eyes furious—and upset too. “It knocked me back, and I lost them.”
“Tell me exactly what you saw.” Perhaps I could work out which of my Heavenly brethren would be so bold. Why would they take Hannah? Were the angels making a play against me?
“Copper wings. Female. I couldn’t see any other details.” She shook her head, her face tormented. “I’m sorry, my lord. It was my duty to protect Hannah and I failed. I accept whatever punishment you deem fitting.”
I stepped back, seething. Copper wings… I knew an angel like that. What I didn’t know was why she would want Hannah.
Azazel kept her head bowed, awaiting my command. She’d been ordered to guard Hannah and she’d failed, and now my mate had been kidnapped. She should be punished for her failure, and she knew it. But Hannah wouldn’t want that. I felt that in my gut.
I turned away from her. “You are dismissed, Azazel.”
“My lord?”
“I think I know who took Hannah.” My eyes narrowed as red hot anger pulsed through my veins. “And I will handle this myself.”
25
Hannah
My head swam as I tried to pry my eyes open, but they were so heavy. Eventually, I managed to get them to crack open. The room was blessedly dark, curtains pulled tight, though a sliver of light filtered through. It was daytime, but where was I?
Something didn’t feel right. This didn’t smell like my lightly perfumed room in the penthouse, where even the expensive fabrics had a scent all their own. And it definitely wasn’t Lucifer’s room with his decadent black silk sheets.
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. I was in another luxurious bedroom, tastefully done in shades of cream and dusky pink. The enormous room was sparsely furnished, but it had more of a deliberate minimalist vibe than feeling half-finished, and I was struck by the sheer size of the space. If I yelled out, it would echo. As I let my brain wake up and recover from the night before, I took in the smooth wood dresser and intricate sconces on the walls, both painted the same shade of pink. It was like waking up on the inside of a strawberry cream dessert.
This certainly didn’t look like Lucifer’s style. Not when I remembered all the black and silver that filled his spaces or the very safe neutrals that his guest room boasted. Where was I?
The bedroom door opened, and sunlight filled the room from the hall on the other side, putting whoever had opened the door in shadow. The person flicked the overhead light on, and the room illuminated. It took me a second to realize who had walked in while my eyes adjusted to the unexpected brightness.
When I saw the person holding a breakfast tray, my jaw dropped. “Jo? What are you doing here?”
My older sister gave me a droll look. “I live here.”
I watched her walk around the bed, barely believing what I was seeing. Jo looked like her normal, beautiful self, with hair almost the same shade as mine that ended just above her shoulders. She’d always had a grace and sophistication I could never match, with her billowy frame and radiant skin. Even her nails were shiny and perfect. Pink, naturally.
“You’re safe.” She set the tray in front of me and poured us both some coffee. The situation felt strangely familiar, and eerily close to when I’d woken up in my apartment after the car wreck. My mind tried to piece together what had happened last night, but everything was fuzzy after Lucifer’s display. But as my brain cleared and the coffee worked, I remembered more.
Someone had grabbed me in the alley of The Celestial. Someone with wings. Someone who knocked me out.
Someone who looked a lot like Jo.
I scooted back in the bed, suddenly desperate to put distance between us, not caring that the tray wobbled as I moved. Was no one as they appeared anymore? And why the hell could everyone fly?
“How do you have wings?” My tone was accusing, but I couldn’t help it. For fuck’s sake, my own sister—the last family member I had left—had knocked me out and kidnapped me. I was allowed to be a little upset. “Are you a Fallen too?”
She drew back and huffed, visibly offended. “Of course not. I’m an angel.”
“An angel?” That didn’t make me feel any better somehow, and it made no sense. “How is my sister an angel when I’m human?”
She sighed and seemed to choose her words carefully. “We were sisters in one of your former lives, when you were an angel. I’ve tried to protect you ever since.”
I stared at her, the weight of her revelation almost more than I could handle after all the other things I’d endured in the last week. Was everything about my life a lie? Was I nothing but a collection of past lives, with people and events I couldn’t remember, while everyone else could? I wanted to bury my head in the pillow and scream.
Jo must have sensed my inner turmoil because she stood. “Take your time and rest. Eat some breakfast. The shower is through that door, and the closet is beside it. I’ve put a few things in there you can wear.” She moved to the door, lingering there as she twisted her hands together. “Come see me whenever you’re ready.”
She left me alone, which was a relief because I needed time to get my head on straight. I was still in my ball gown, and it was wrinkled to high heavens. Hopefully not ruined.
I was starving too, since all I’d eaten last night were a few fancy appetizers, and I devoured the omelet Jo had brought me. Then I took a quick shower and quickly dressed in a cream blouse and navy blue slacks that were obviously Jo’s. Now that I was fully awake, I wanted answers from my so-called ‘sister.’
I found Jo in the living room, a massive space all done in white and gold, with huge windows offering spectacular views of the bay, from the Golden Gate Bridge to Alcatraz Island. I automatically moved toward them, pressing my fingertips on the glass as I looked out. We were up on a hill, and a view like this, in a house this enormous, had to have cost a fortune.
I turned toward my sister. “Shit, Jo. I knew you had money, but…”
“I do all right for myself.” She sat on a soft-looking sofa and watched me like I was an injured deer about to bolt away. “You’ve never been here, have you?”
I didn’t reply. She knew fully well I’d never been here. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have been as overwhelmed by Lucifer’s shows of wealth. I’d offered to come visit her numerous times in San Francisco, but she’d always made some kind of excuse, and had come to see me instead. Had she been hiding this from me, maybe even purposefully keeping me away to protect her secrets? Was anything about her true?