THE EMERGENCY MEETING WAS HELD in a large, five-story private residence brownstone on Hancock Street in Brooklyn, New York. According to Milo, the home had once been a nursing home, which the Sensitives had bought twenty-five years ago and converted into a safe house, the closest one to Manhattan.
Although they had been summoned with other angels and archangels, Ariel had advised them to travel separately. Ariel and the other archangels would go first.
At first, Alexa had welcomed the noise and bustle of Brooklyn, where she was forced to think about other things. But each time she made a trip to the mortal world, it also brought a sense of sorrow. The ache in the pit of her core couldn’t be filled no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that she was an angel now and her past mortal life had no meaning. She didn’t even remember it.
Because it did have meaning.
Without a past, Alexa felt like a newborn creature, opening its eyes in an unfamiliar world and seeing everything for the first time. Free from conflicting emotions. There were no unknowns to frighten her, but she still felt empty, felt a hollow in her core.
There was always that lingering feeling of something missing.
It felt wrong. She felt wrong.
The large brownstone was just as impressive and lavish on the inside as the outside. Alexa followed Milo in through a set of grand oak doors set with stained glass windows. Her boots were cushioned with lush Persian rugs while soft golden light spilled from a magnificent crystal chandelier. Through the foyer, they were met by a grand staircase that disappeared toward the top floors, all lined with gilded wooden rails and spindles. Heat was everywhere, when a blink ago the streets in Brooklyn had been covered in cold and wet snow. The traffic on Hancock Street outside was a soft murmur.
And just like Hallow Hall, the brownstone was embellished with archangel sigils.
Instead of tile floors like in the hotel, the floor was hardwood and had brilliant sigils painted every few feet. They were everywhere—on the drapery, chairs, and sofas, even painted over the walls.
With that warmth and the hope of help from the Sensitives, Alexa began to think she had a chance at vanquishing Hades and getting her memories back. Her mood took a definite upturn.
“Is the Elders’ Guild going to attend?” whispered Alexa, afraid that speaking too loudly would only make them appear suddenly. She flinched inwardly at the thought of those creepy elders in their white robes, their faces lined with age but still possessing unnaturally strong and younger bodies. Her stomach clenched when she thought of the twisted, haggard features of Elder Hugo. He had sentenced them both to die an angel’s true death by keeping them from returning to Horizon. Their bodies would have eventually deteriorated in a slow and painful death.
“The Guild has refused to get involved,” said Milo as he sauntered forward.
“Refused to get involved?” Alexa raised her voice. “They’re already involved. They were involved the minute they tricked us and tried to kill us by locking us up in their creepy dungeon. They knew what Hades was looking for all along. They could have done the right thing and saved us a trip to that Icicle Fortress.”
“Icefall Castle.”
“Whatever,” growled Alexa. “So, they’re just going to hide away in their castle while the rest of the world is fighting demons? Cowards. They’re all cowards.”
“I never thought you’d be so anxious to see Elder Nicholas again,” said Milo with a satisfied smile, “after what happened.”
“I’m not,” said Alexa quickly. “But don’t they care about what’s happening? I mean—they’re creepy, freakishly creepy—but they can fight. They have skills we could use. Maybe they could train some of the mortals?”
Milo cast her a sidelong glance. “Maybe. But it’s more than that.”
“What is?”
“They blame us for losing the Helm of Darkness to Hades after they’d protected it all those years. They claim they didn’t want to reveal their secrets for this very reason. In case we lost the helm.”
Alexa exhaled. “Well, they’re right about that. We did lose it.”
“We did,” agreed Milo. “It seems they want nothing to do with us and think we should fix our own mess. I don’t know. Maybe they’re not the sort to get involved. Maybe they just prefer to stay secluded and ignorant of what’s happening. Or maybe they regret what they’ve done and just can’t face the Legion right now.”
“You think that if it makes you feel better.” Alexa smiled inwardly when she remembered the hard slap she’d given Elder Nicholas as he’d cowered in a corner. She was almost sorry she wouldn’t see him again.
“I was thinking about this meeting between the two groups,” said Alexa, breaking the silence again.
Milo stopped and looked at her. “What about?”
“Well, after the attacks on Hallow Hall, I saw real hate in their eyes. You were there. You saw what the Sensitives did. They weren’t keen on helping us. It was almost like they didn’t want to tell us about the Deus Septem.”
“A very natural reaction after what happened to them. Don’t you think?” said Milo. “They felt betrayed by the Legion. They’d just lost members of their family. They were still in shock. They didn’t know who to trust after angels attacked them.”
“I know,” said Alexa. “That’s just it. What if the Sensitives don’t want to help? Can the Legion force them?”
Milo didn’t answer right away. “The attack on Hallow Hall should never have happened. But it did. I know it’s going to take a lot of convincing, but it’s not like they have any choice either. This world is as much a part of them as it is a part of us. They have an obligation to protect it, just like we do. And right now, they have the numbers we need, not to mention the advantages of being mortal.”
Alexa couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t answer her question. “Do they know about The Order of the First?”
“If they don’t already know,” answered Milo. “They will soon. A big part of this meeting is because the order divided the Legion and left us hanging. We need their help.”
Alexa took an unnecessarily deep breath and asked the question she had been obsessing over since she found out about this emergency meeting.
“Are any other guardian angels attending this meeting?”
Milo shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
Alexa frowned. “So, it’s just us?” A cold feeling washed through her. Was she going to be blamed for the attacks on Hallow Hall? At first, Alexa had felt partly responsible for Ryan killing all those mortals because she’d thought Hades had sent them after her. But Ryan hadn’t been there for her. He’d been sent for the Deus Septem.
That left only one other reason she would be called to this emergency meeting, and that was her new gift—her soul channeling.
But then why would the Sensitives be involved? What did they have to do with it?
“What is it?” Milo watched her, his eyes intense. He stepped closer to her until she could smell the leather of his jacket and the steel of his swords. With his handsome face and golden-brown skin, he’d drawn almost every woman’s eye on the way here. Not that Alexa had noticed.
“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden when a few seconds ago you were full of questions? What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing,” said Alexa after a moment, hating how perceptive he was. She didn’t want Milo to think she was a basket case or that she was afraid to speak in a room full of people. She was an angel. Immortal. She fought demons as her day job. But there was something about this meeting that had her on edge.
Milo dipped his head closer to her. “That frown on your face suggests otherwise. Tell me.”
Alexa unexpectedly found herself opening up to him. “Don’t you think it’s odd that we’re the only angels attending this meeting?”
Milo shrugged. “Not really.” His eyes lit up suddenly, and he stood a little straighter—maybe a little taller—in the stance of a proud man. “If anything, I take it as a real compliment. It says the Legion trusts us with its most delicate affairs.”
But Alexa wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know… it feels odd to me. More like an ambush.”
A smile pulled at the edges of Milo’s lips. “It’s not an ambush. It’s a meeting.”
Alexa raised her brows and resisted the urge to push him. “There can be an ambush in a meeting.”
“I don’t know why you’re acting this way,” said Milo. “Unless there’s something else that’s bothering you?”
Alexa knew exactly what he was implying. She tried hard to ignore the heat that rose from her neck to her face. “I just think it’s strange that we’re the only two angels, at a supposedly very important meeting. If I were on the High Council, I wouldn’t summon the angel-me to any meeting. Not unless I wanted something from me…or I wanted to ambush me…okay, this is getting confusing. Don’t you get it? I have a bad feeling about this, and I can’t shake it off.”
“I think you’re overthinking things again.” Milo looked up towards the staircase and contemplation covered his features. “I guess we’ll find out when they call us in the meeting.”
Alexa opened her mouth but quickly closed it. She could see how much he wanted to believe his own words, how important it still was to him to be on the Legion’s good side.
Milo’s words of encouragement did nothing to ease the anxiety that coated her mind. Something wasn’t right about this meeting, but she didn’t want to dampen that proud look on his face. She left it at that and hoped she was wrong.
Alexa followed Milo as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and passed through tall French doors, which opened to a larger room.
She found herself in a large, bright, high-ceilinged room. Tall, arched windows let in yellow and orange light from the evening sun. Two long desks partitioned the room. The legs were carved into angels with their wings supporting the table top.
In the room sat seven archangels and seven Heads of the Sensitive Houses. Everyone was positioned across from each another behind the desks, except for Metatron, who sat on an elegant velvet sofa with an arched, gilded back in a shadowy corner of the room. Leaning close to him were Michelle and Jasmine, who much to Alexa’s annoyance looked even more beautiful in the mortal world, despite their skin-tight black dresses and six-inch heels.
The archangel Jeremiel, the Minister of Ministration and Peace and head of the High Council, sat in the middle, while the archangel Gabriel, the male archangel in charge of Operations where Alexa had excelled in her training, sat to his right. Next to him were the archangels Ariel and Raphael. On Jeremiel’s left sat the archangel Ramiel, the male archangel who ran the Hall of Souls, and another female archangel Alexa had never seen before.
She wore a golden crown above a heart-shaped face, and black kohl lined her light, twinkling eyes. Her dark hair was adorned with hanging braids and gold beads. And wrapped around her neck was a coin-covered bib necklace with multitudes of gem-studded asps and ankhs. The archangel looked like she was about to perform on Broadway, draped in costume jewelry, but Alexa had the strange feeling those were real jewels.
She was strikingly beautiful, much to Alexa’s swelling irritation being surrounded by too-perfect females. Still, there was something cold and icy about her.
When Alexa turned away, her eyes moved to the other table where the mortals sat. A serious woman with white hair looked her way. Valerie, the Head of House Uriel, did not smile. Her eyes held a cold and unwelcoming look. Clearly she regretted helping Alexa when she’d first arrived at Hallow Hall.
Next to her sat the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with a long raven-black braid and blue eyes that sparkled against his almost porcelain skin. Tall, roughly handsome, and dangerous like an exquisite sword, Michael, Head of House Michael, watched her with eyes like a hawk. She looked away, her gut clenching in that familiar guilty feeling remembering when she’d accused him of murdering those mortal girls a few months back.
Her eyes quickly scanned the length of the table. Alexa didn’t recognize the other mortals, but she knew they represented the last five archangel houses.
Alexa couldn’t help but notice how the angels and the mortals deliberately sat far away from each other. And while the archangels looked upon the mortals with respect, the mortals were thin lipped with deep frowns, as though this was the last place on Earth they wished to be.
The others’ hushed voices gave Alexa an odd feeling of foreboding, as though they had just entered the house of a dying person.
The female archangel dripping in jewelry hurried towards them, her gown of chiffon and silks of vibrant gold and silver hues swishing at her heels. Her golden skin was covered in glitter.
“I’m sorry, dears,” she said as she ushered them out and closed the doors behind her. “But this meeting is strictly for the archangels and the Sensitives’ Heads of Houses.” Her eyes moved to Alexa and remained fixed on her for a beat too long without saying a word. Alexa’s insides tightened at the woman’s strange, star-like eyes, as though she was measuring Alexa, seeking out something within her. Alexa was tempted to tell this woman to back off and stop staring at her, but she was an archangel—Alexa’s superior in every way—so she did nothing.
Milo gave the archangel a look made of equal parts confusion and distrust. “But we were asked to attend this meeting by the archangel Ariel.”
The archangel pulled her eyes away from Alexa and looked at him, again for an uncomfortable amount of time without uttering a single word. Alexa could swear they lingered on Milo’s neck, on his snake-like sigil.
The archangel raised two appraising eyebrows, her lips parted into a splendid smile. “You’ve been asked to attend should we need information from you,” she said finally. “If your presence is required, someone will come fetch you. Come along. You can wait with the others.” The archangel moved past them, her gown swaying behind her like a waterfall of starlit glimmer, and pushed open the only other door in the hallway. “There we are. You should be comfortable enough in here. Now that you’re settled, I must get back.” Without another word, the archangel left them at the threshold and disappeared back through the French doors.
Alexa looked at Milo. “What’s with the Miss Cleopatra archangel?”
Milo cast a glance behind them. “She’s the archangel Sabrielle. She’s supposed to be helping Metatron develop new battle strategies. She’s some sort of war expert.”
“Really? She looks more like a fairy princess than a military strategist,” said Alexa. Then she realized that perhaps that’s what the archangel intended. She wanted everyone to think she was some fragile beauty queen when in fact, she was a battlefield commander.
“I thought you said we were the only other angels summoned here?” Alexa said as she peeked over his shoulder to the room that lay beyond the door.
“That’s what Ariel told me,” answered the angel. “I guess she was wrong.”
Alexa followed Milo through the door and stepped into a den-like room. A fire blazed in a stone hearth with comfortable chairs nestled around it, a perfect spot to cuddle up with a good book and read for hours. Her eyes traveled to the sofas packed with plush pillows—and froze.
Rachel and Matt sat across from them on a sofa, their faces mirroring Alexa’s look of surprise.
And on the opposite side of the room, standing next to the only window, was Erik.