Breath a little jagged—highly unusual for Jason—his spymaster said, “I’ve just received a report from one of my people in Charisemnon’s territory. Nests of reborn are breaking out all over his lands, killing and infecting and rampaging.”

Honor spoke for the first time, her forehead wrinkled. “I thought the entire Cadre took precautions?”

“Lijuan’s a smart operator.” Dmitri stared unseeing at a blank screen. “I bet those reborn were smuggled in during her “Sleep” and someone’s been feeding the fuckers in the interim.”

“Those things feed on blood and living flesh.” Elena’s hand was bone white on the handle of her blade, her thigh pressed up against his and the stormfire of her wing tangled with his feathers. “And they can’t make other reborn from nothing.”

Raphael considered her point. “The keeper or keepers must’ve hunted locals with stealth over a long period, so the disappearances wouldn’t be noticed.”

Vivek Kapur had been bent over a tablet in his lap, now shook his head. “Article in not one but three different local papers report a rash of disappearances in their areas in the past month.”

His fingers flew across the screen with nimble speed. “Looks like each set of disappearances was blamed on a different thing—a bloodlust-ridden vampire, a flash flood, a man-eating pride of lions. Can’t find any articles that cross-link the three incidents.”

A muscle ticked in Dmitri’s jaw. “Someone hasn’t been doing their job.”

Because Dmitri would’ve noticed those disappearances and Raphael would’ve been informed of them. “So Charisemnon is out.” The archangel would have to contain the reborn threat to the African continent before he could render any assistance. “And so is Titus.” The two archangels were in no way allies, but this wasn’t about their differences. It was about a world that would end them all.

Vampires couldn’t feed on reborn. They needed mortals.

And the greatest secret of angelkind was that they needed mortals, too.

“She knows the danger, knows the reborn are a plague that could spread across the entire world,” Elena said, blades in both her hands now, as if she would stab Lijuan in the heart right then and there. “What use is it being goddess of a dying world?”

“She’ll have created a protected zone inside her territory,” Raphael said, Lijuan’s entire genocidal plan suddenly icily clear in his mind. “She intends to win the war, then kill the reborn, and repopulate the world with those loyal to her. It is tempting to call her mad, but she is not mad. She is drunk on her own power.”

“The first wave of the enemy are nearly at the fireline.” Dmitri zoomed in on the image displayed on another screen. It was being transmitted from a device mounted discreetly on a portside skyscraper. That device was one of a multitude. Devoid of the veil provided by their archangel’s powers, Lijuan’s people could not move unseen in his city.

Raphael caught a hint of silver blue at the corner of the screen before it disappeared and knew Illium was out there with his squadron, making the call on when the archers would fire again. Neither Dmitri nor Raphael would interfere. Illium was an experienced squadron commander, the decision one that had to be made in the field of battle.

The arrows fired all at once half a minute later. A cascade of fire arced down into the mass of enemy combatants heading for the city, but a single precision set were aimed at the floating buoys of fuel. The impact would contaminate the water, but that couldn’t be helped—if Lijuan took New York, millions would die.

If he won, his people would clean the water.

The arrows flew silently to their destinations. The buoy archers had been chosen because they could shoot with near-impossible accuracy. Three of the team were guild hunters, one a mortal who competed in archery as a sport, the rest a mix of angels and vampires. Since no one could predict if all the archers would be in the city at any one time, the shooting team could be put together from double the necessary number.

The arrow points slammed into the buoys while the enemy was focused on the fiery threat from above, the buoy skins designed to puncture under such an impact. Flames shot up with explosive force . . . and angels fell screaming from the skies, their wings destroyed.

Every muscle in Raphael’s body clenched.

He had witnessed the Falling, seen the broken bodies and torn wings of their wounded and dead. To see any angel plummet from the sky was a repellant sight, but these winged warriors had come to murder his people.

A strong, slightly callused hand sliding into his. He curled his fingers over hers as she curled hers over his, and together, they watched Lijuan’s army come to a halt beyond the flaming wall of fire—an impressive sight, but not enough to be a deterrent once you could see it.

Coming over that wall however, was an endless hail of burning arrows.

Illium had taken charge of arrow production and created a stockpile so massive that his archers could keep going for days, with one set resting while the others fired. Those men and women were tough to the bone, would shoot until their hands bled and then they’d wrap them up and shoot again.

Lijuan’s fighters hesitated just out of reach of the arrows. Several warriors dropped to the water, going to the rescue of the burned angels. Angels couldn’t easily be killed by fire, not unless they were burned down to the bone. Then, without warning, the entire army reversed course to the sky, a massive vee of power and violence.

52

Cowards are abandoning their wounded.” Dmitri spat out the words. “It’ll tank morale among her troops.”

“No,” Raphael murmured, “they’re too devoted to her. She is their goddess and the burned ones will consider it their sacrifice to sink down to the ocean floor until they can be retrieved. The ones with enough wing surface left to float may survive. Most will die.”

Elena sucked in a breath. “I thought angels couldn’t drown?”

“That badly wounded? It’s possible. Especially if their lungs are scorched and they are young.”

The idea of burned and bleeding angels sinking helplessly into the ocean while they drowned over a matter of hours or days made Elena’s stomach threaten to revolt. “Can we help them?” She had to ask the question, couldn’t abandon her humanity.

The Raphael who looked at her was the deadly archangel with power running cold and hard through his veins. But the Raphael who answered her was the man who loved her. “If we can do so safely, we will float out rafts onto which they can climb.”

Shokran, Archangel.

You keep me human, Elena. You stop me from becoming Lijuan. Never stop making such requests. Out loud, he said, “We must prepare for the next wave.”

Dmitri pressed a finger to his ear. “Ashwini’s got her team in position. Short-range rocket launchers ready.”

“Any signs of similar weapons among Lijuan’s troops?” Elena asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Dmitri zoomed in on a particular group of fighters. Rocket launchers on angelic backs, assault guns strapped to the front, that was just the start.

“Satellite’s also picking up a ton of movement beneath the water,” Vivek added. “She’s got more submarines, and I bet you they’re overflowing with supplies and people and weapons.”

“Her Evilness learned from the last battle.”

“No, it would have been Xi,” Raphael murmured. “He has always been the most intelligent man in her arsenal—though he is only dangerously powerful when she is nearby.”

Elena had nearly forgotten that Lijuan could share power with her troops. “That explains how she pulled off the noncorporeal tactic—she must’ve temporarily shared that power across her entire army.” No one had to tell her it was seriously bad news that Lijuan was now strong enough to spread herself that thin.

“Divers are in position,” Dmitri said.

Raphael resettled his wings. “Can they see the underwater craft?”

Dmitri spoke into a button mike pinned to his shirt collar, dark head bent, listened to the reply. “Negative. The water is murky.”

“I can use satellites to—” Vivek began.

Raphael swiped out a hand. “No. We stick to the rules of war. I will not violate them and step on the road to becoming Lijuan. If the subs attack, they become fair game at any distance. Prior to that, the divers must be able to see them. Line of sight, that is the law.”

Pride had Elena lifting their clasped hands to her mouth for a kiss.

In the distance, the hail of arrows continued. “I need to go relieve an archer.” That was her assigned task during the initial assault phase; she wasn’t expert-level, but she was good enough to take over for short periods so they could rest.

Eyes as blue as a pristine mountain lake slammed into hers, lightning alive in their depths and in the Legion mark at his temple. Stay safe, hbeebti.

That goes double for you, Archangel. He was going to be doing something incredibly dangerous very soon.

She made it to her position with two minutes to spare and picked up the shooting where the archer had left off. Her preference was the crossbow, but she’d honed her archery skills after the last battle because at this distance and with the added fire element, the specially designed arrows functioned better at the task.

Heat smoldered against her in every direction, eliminating the chill of winter. In front of each archer was a small flaming pot in which they lit their arrows. Sweat trickled down Elena’s face; she was glad she’d taken the time to find a hairtie and pull her hair back into a short tail.

She missed the ease of braiding her hair to keep it out of the way, and was already growing out the strands. Mostly though . . . she couldn’t keep seeing Belle in the mirror. Each time she turned and glimpsed the shorter strands without warning, she remembered Belle’s delight the day she’d had her own hair trimmed to that length. It hurt too fucking much to have a constant reminder of her dancing, wild, often impatient but always loving big sister.