A jerky nod.
“The vampires then slaughtered the angel’s small household of mortals and other vampires.” Raphael had been too young to be allowed anywhere near the scene, but he’d heard adults talking about gobbets of flesh flung at the walls and bloody feathers ground into the carpet, steaming piles of innards left on the welcome mat.
“The vampires moved on to their next target soon afterward, but only after crowing of the kill so the news ran like wildfire through the region.”
Elena just shook her head, her features set in harsh lines.
“Their next target proved stronger than expected, killed the vampires, but the genie was out of the bottle. Other vampires began to strike at angels while feeding on mortals like they were disposable cattle—entire villages were left full of only the dead.” He’d looked up and read the historical records once he was older, discovered the maddened vampires had ravaged anyone in their path.
Elders with fragile bones had been thrown against the walls, children’s soft throats torn out, young men and women abused vilely while those who would protect them were murdered in brutal ways. “The mortals paid the highest price, but the angels who survived the assaults didn’t do so unscathed: a number had their wings hacked off, the vampires having learned to do that first to keep their targets earthbound.”
He thrust a hand through his hair. “There were rational vampires, almost-immortals of iron control and will who tried to halt the tide and who fought heroically to protect the mortals in their areas.” Good men and women who’d fallen in defense of the vulnerable. “But bloodlust is infectious among the young and those already predisposed to violence. And just knowing that they could kill an angel, it was enough to snap the leash.”
“Where were the ruling angels in all this?” His consort’s voice reverberated with anger.
“Flying from scene to scene, helping injured angels, executing vampires. But not even their most brutal punishments could slow the vicious rampage, much less bring it to a halt. Nothing did—not until Caliane said enough and swept in. It took her a single day to bring the entire region into order.”
Elena’s response was hard with the ruthless understanding of a hunter. “Because no vampire can ever kill an archangel.”
“And we live in a world of predators and prey,” Raphael repeated. “Remove the top predator from the chain and the entire chain collapses.”
“It’s not chance the Luminata cleared out the vampires from this region.”
“No, it appears to have been a strategy to maintain their fiefdom—but that strategy hinges on a single fragile fact: that no murderous kiss of vampires will catch wind of an entire town full of defenseless prey.”
29
Landing at Lumia approximately forty-five minutes after the others would’ve returned, he and Elena made to go to their suite, while Aodhan requested leave to seek out a healer and artist named Laric, whom the Luminata called Stillness because of his unwillingness to speak.
“According to our source, he isn’t usually out at this time of the afternoon,” Aodhan told him. “But I still wish to attempt to make contact.”
“Go. Talk to him,” Raphael said, holding the splintered blue-green of Aodhan’s eyes as the three of them stood alone in the courtyard. “But remember, you have found your voice. And that voice is beloved by more than one person.”
A slight nod. “I will not lose my way, sire.” Pausing for a heartbeat, he added, “I want to live in a way I did not live for two hundred years. I kept myself in a cage and that is a truth I must accept and get over.”
And Raphael realized Aodhan wanted to help Laric rather than become like him. “We will be in our quarters for an hour, then we’ll head back to the township. It’s apt to be dark by the time we return.”
“I’ll ensure I’m present to provide escort.”
Raphael made a snap decision. “There’s no need. Stay here,” he ordered this member of his Seven who was so very luminous that sometimes, he blinded people to his brutal intelligence. “Listen. Learn.”
“Sire.”
Wings brushing Elena’s as they split with Aodhan and began to head in the direction of their suite, Raphael was surprised to see a Luminata walking toward them who pushed back his hood and beamed at Elena in a most un-Luminata way, something in the openness of his face putting Raphael in mind of the pure innocence of a child.
“I have found it, Consort!” He lifted a rolled-up piece of paper before seeming to collect himself and incline his head respectfully toward Raphael, the pale hue of his eyes bright and the dark brown of his skin flushed. “Archangel.”
“Raphael,” Elena said with a smile, “this is Ibrahim. He promised he’d look for a historical map of Lumia for me.” She touched her hand to the slender male’s forearm in a silent thanks that made Ibrahim’s smile even more incandescent.
“Ibrahim,” Raphael said in greeting. Why a historical map?
Taking the map from Ibrahim, Elena replied to his mental comment the same way. If the Luminata are hiding things, I didn’t think we’d get access to a current map, but we can extrapolate from an older one.
Or, Raphael pointed out, depending on the age of the map, we may see what’s missing or what’s been added.
Elena’s eyes gleamed in appreciation of his point, before she returned her attention to the Luminata who continued to glow with that inner purity so rare among the sect. “Did you find this in the Gallery?”