Adrian Phoenix - In the Blood

“Yes,” she said. “We do.”

And when I find your son, I’ll be able to free my daughter .

THE MORNINGSTAR STRODE FROM the mouth of his aerie and onto the landing gallery. Pale apricot and rose dawn light shimmered over the stone. He paused at the balustrade, then turned around to face Eris.

“All right,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “What did you find?”

Eris pulled a piece of paper from her gown’s pocket. “As you instructed, I followed Lilith—”

“She is Lady and mistress to you,” the Morningstar snapped.

Eris stiffened, then bowed her head. “Yes, my Lord Father. I followed your Lady to the royal aerie where she visited the Chaos Seat and spoke with Lord Gabriel.”

“Ah.” The Morningstar held out his hand. “Give it to me, child.”

Eris handed him the paper, then backed away.

Power tingled against his hand. The Morningstar stared at the crumpled bit of paper, his heart fluttering against his ribs. He touched a finger to the dark spot of blood at the paper’s center and felt a creawdwr ’s distinctive energy.

He was right—had been all along. Samael or Lucien or whatever he wished to be called was lying.

The Morningstar smoothed the paper—a receipt—and read it.

Vieux Carre Wine & Spirits

422 Chartres St.

New Orleans

He flipped it over and read the words scrawled across the back: Watch over her, ma mère. S’il te plaît, keep her safe. Even from me .

The Morningstar’s white wings unfurled and swept through the warming air. He swirled up into the dawn sky, his heart buoyant.

A Maker was in New Orleans. And judging by these words, possibly in love and unable to trust himself. Keep her safe. Even from me . A child in need of guidance. A child in need of bonding. A child he needed to find before he himself was caught in the web Lilith and Gabriel were spinning.

Seattle, WA

March 24

HEATHER PAUSED ON HER way to the front room window to make sure that the moon-and-stars throw still completely covered Von. He Slept in the recliner, the throw draping him from his head to his stocking-clad toes. His scuffed-up scooter boots stood neatly on the floor beside the chair, his shirt and leather jacket folded over the fireplace screen.

Eli sat cross-legged on the couch, Eerie nestled in his lap, eating oatmeal and cantaloupe, and watching a game show on TV. The ding-ding-ding of a winner’s bell sounded through the living room. Since it was only a little past ten a.m., everyone else was still asleep.

And as badly as Heather wanted to crack open the bedroom door and check on her sister, she refused to give in to the urge. Like Von had pointed out, Annie was a big girl and he’d promised that Silver wouldn’t hurt her.

Heather twitched the curtain aside and studied the quiet, rain-wet street. The rain had stopped, for the moment. Most of her neighbors, people she didn’t know well, were at work, their driveways empty. She didn’t recognize a couple of the cars parked along the street—an SUV, a rust-pocked old Chrysler—both with Washington plates.

A blade of sunlight sliced through thinning clouds and cut ruby dazzles from a pickup parked a block down. Heather squinted, thought she could make out Oregon tree-in-the-center plates. An image popped into her mind of the Portland field office’s parking lot and the vehicle she’d watched SAC Alex Lyons climb into, a sparkling red Dodge Ram. Her pulse picked up speed.

Couldn’t be on official surveillance, she thought, dropping the curtain back into place. Not in such an easily spotted vehicle. She wondered how long he’d been watching the house and for who. Rodriguez?

She planned to find out.

Turning, Heather crouched beside the sofa and shook Jack’s shoulder. The drummer opened one eye and grunted. “Your shift,” she said. “I’ve gotta check something outside.”

Jack forced himself away from his pillow and sat up on the sofa, yawning. He stretched, then smoothed a hand along his mane of cherry-red braids.

“You awake?” Heather asked, rising to her feet.

“Sadly, yeah.”

“Do you need a gun or did—”

Jack pulled one of Von’s Brownings out from under the pillow. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m strapped, me.”

A snort sounded from Eli’s end of the sofa. “Nutria beware.”

Without looking at him, Jack flipped Eli off. “Damn straight.”

“I’m going out the back door,” Heather said. “And coming back that way. Don’t let anyone in but me.”

Jack nodded, and his braids swept across his muscled shoulders. “If anyone tries to get in here, I’ll make ’em dance like a turkey in hot ashes, for true.”

“Now there’s a disturbing image,” Heather said with a smile.

“You need help?” Eli asked, setting aside his breakfast. The smell of fresh cantaloupe drifted though the air.

Heather shook his head. “No, I should be fine. Just being cautious.”

With an inquisitive trill, Eerie jumped from Eli’s lap to the carpet and padded over to Heather, rubbing against her legs, his back arched for pats. She reached down to pet him, then froze.

Padded. Not hopped. Eerie had four legs, not three.

“Holy Christ,” she whispered and knelt. Eerie mewed happily as her trembling fingers stroked his head.

“I thought you knew,” Eli said.

“Knew?” she repeated. She touched Eerie’s new leg, felt its solidity and strength.

“Yeah, I mean, he was that way when he came out of your room this morning,” Eli said. “I figured Dante…I mean…how else?”

How else, indeed , Heather thought, her mind spinning. She’d known Dante could unmake . She’d been too troubled by Johanna Moore’s destruction to even consider that Dante might be able to make, as well. Yes, he’d most likely made changes within her when he’d saved her life, but she’d never carried that realization all the way through, never stopped to consider its implications.

Could Dante create? Not just fix or heal, but create ?

Eerie bunted his head against her fingers and she petted him. He sat and extended his new leg, grooming it as if to say, See? It was there all along .

Heather stood and walked to the bedroom. She eased the door open and looked into the darkened room. Dante’s pale face was turned away from the door, his black hair trailing across the pillow, one white arm across his blanketed waist.

He is the never-ending Road .

Heather touched her hand to Dante’s chest, waited for the reassuring thump of his heart against her palm. When it came, she removed her hand, bent, and kissed the tiny bat tattooed into the pale flesh above his heart.

With a mew, Eerie jumped up onto the bed and settled himself beside Dante, yellow eyes gleaming.

“Watch over him, little guardian,” she whispered.

For answer, Eerie licked a paw and swiped it over his head, the very epitome of nonchalance. Cats . Heather backed out of the room, leaving the door cracked open for Eerie’s passage.

Jack, Browning Hi-Power snugged into the back of his jeans, walked Heather to the back door so he could lock it behind her.