Sylvia Day - A Touch of Crimson

“As you said, they don’t see you coming. You can be a lure for vampires, and I can use you to my advantage. Is that answer acceptable?”

Lindsay looked over her shoulder at him. Mercenary and ruthless: she didn’t begrudge him that. She understood the need to be that way. If using her to draw in vampires was the way she could be helpful, she’d go along with it. Innocent people were dying. Victims with families, including little children like she’d once been. She wished someone had been mercenary and ruthless in saving her mother. “An artery to use for bait? Yes, that would be acceptable to me. But I want to know more about the whole angel-turned-vampire thing. And the angel-turned-lycan thing. Knowledge is power and all that.”

“Agreed.” He waited until she faced him. “Shortly after Man was created, two hundred seraphim were sent to earth to observe and report on their progress. These angels were known as the Watchers. They were a scholarly caste and they were given strict orders not to interfere with the natural progression of Man’s evolution.”

“They were only supposed to ‘watch.’ I get it.”

“They didn’t obey.”

She smiled wryly. “I figured.”

“The Watchers began to fraternize with mortals, teaching them things they shouldn’t know.”

“Such as…?”

“The creation of weapons, warfare, science…” He waved one hand in a markedly casual gesture. “Among many other skills.”

“I’m following.”

“A warrior caste known as the Sentinels was created to enforce the laws the Watchers were breaking.”

“And you lead these Sentinels?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re the one responsible for turning the fallen angels into vampires,” she accused, her heartbeat quickening with anger and horror.

“ They are responsible for what they are. They made the choices that led to their fall.” He studied her with those fathomless eyes. “Yes, I administered the punishment. I stripped the Watchers of their wings. Wings and souls are connected, and the loss of their souls led to their blood drinking. But I’m not accountable for their mistakes, any more than a police officer is responsible for the crimes committed by offenders.”

“A better analogy would be a penal system that releases criminals who are more dangerous after incarceration than they were before it.” Lindsay ruffled her curls in frustration. “Why do they have to drink blood? You don’t, and they were once angels like you.”

“They’re still physiologically seraphim. Severing their wings didn’t make them mortal. They can’t ingest the food you eat. We look similar to mortals on the outside, but we are not the same. We aren’t built the same. Your bodies create energy through physical chemical processes; we aren’t designed that way.”

She nodded slowly. The wings-and the way they appeared and disappeared-were more than enough proof of how different they were. “And what do the lycans do? How do you use them?”

“They scent vampires in hiding, raid nests, and herd vamps into sparsely populated areas where they’ll cause the least amount of damage to mortals.”

“You said there are a hundred sixty-two Sentinels now. The rest… died?”

His chest lifted and fell with a deep breath. “They were casualties, yes.”

“How many lycans are there?”

“Several thousand from an original twenty-five, because they can breed.”

“And how many vampire casualties have there been?”

“Hundreds of thousands. But they’re still ahead, because they can spread vampirism to mortals much faster than the lycans can reproduce.”

“While you’ve been stuck with a static number, minus the ones you lose along the way?” Lindsay exhaled in a rush, overwhelmed by the enormity of the task Adrian faced. “Why can the fallen angel-vampires spread their sickness? I don’t understand why that’s okay.”

“I don’t have an answer for that. If I was to hazard a guess, I would say it has something to do with freedom of choice. The choice of the Fallen to refrain from sharing their punishment, just as they should have refrained from sharing their knowledge. And the choice of the mortals who are Changed into vampires.”

“You’re assuming the mortals have a choice.”

“There are those who seek the Change. Most especially ones who are ill or crippled in some way. Ones who want to live, no matter the cost.”

She shuddered. “Who wants to live like that? I’d rather be dead.”

Adrian took a step closer. Then another. “The better question is, who wants to die like that? Most mortals don’t survive the Change. Of those who do, many become feral and have to be put down. The Fallen don’t have souls. When they spread their affliction to mortals, who do have souls, the Change causes irreversible damage. Some minions can survive without a soul, but most lose their empathy and then their minds.”

“You call them minions?” Her nose wrinkled. “Even the term is disgusting.”

A breeze ruffled his hair, luring a thick black lock to hang over his brow. The slight blurring of his sharp perfection made him look younger than the early-thirties range she’d originally pegged him for.

Lindsay now knew what an illusion that was. His eyes, so brilliantly hued, were ancient. The length of time he was discussing so casually was unfathomable to her. Ages. Eons. Trying to imagine the history he’d seen was almost frightening.

“You’re here,” she said carefully, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her pants, “to punish angels who taught mortals things they shouldn’t know yet… but you’re going to teach me things I wouldn’t know otherwise. Do the rules that applied to the Watchers not apply to you?”

“I’m going to teach you how to better defend yourself, but within the limitations of your mortal body. Basically, nothing you couldn’t learn elsewhere from mortal masters of self-defense.”

“Good.” She released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Now that I know the basics, I want to go with you when you leave.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m dealing with. Until I do, it’s too hazardous.”

“There’s someplace safer than by your side?” she challenged.

“By my side is the most dangerous place for you to be.”

The temptation he presented proved that, but… “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I’m already packed.”

When his face took on an arrogant look of command, Lindsay held up a hand. “Think carefully,” she warned, “before you answer.”

Adrian paused. The stillness that settled over him was absolute.

She’d known within moments of meeting him that he was used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question. He was going to have to get over that with her.

“Your way or the highway?” he asked with dangerous softness.

Lindsay lowered her hand. “I do what I do-I kill heinous things-to avenge someone . I do it for the victims, because they couldn’t do it for themselves. If I can help someone who has a name and a face, friends, a life I’ve seen… Do you understand? You said you would give me a focus, and that’s the kind of focus I want. I want to help you find whoever killed your friend.”

“I’m not hunting today.”

“Bullshit. You’re going after information. You want to see if you can pick up anything around the scene where your friend was killed. And if you find something, you’re not just going to call it a day and come home. I don’t need to be trained to be helpful. I’m lethal already.”

“With the element of surprise,” he qualified. “In hand-to-hand combat you’d be dead before you could blink. And when word gets out about you, you’ll be hunted. You’re not ready for that yet.”