Chapter 9
Samkiel
I yanked at my tie the second we were in the newsroom hallway. Vincent and Logan flanked me as we strode past the mortals. Several tried to stop us, wanting to speak to me or have me sign something. I refused to pause, avoiding everyone. With a final jerk, I managed to rip the tie off.
“I detest these. I detest the suits, the meetings, interviews, all of it.”
“Sorry, boss. I have to make you look professional and all for the rest of the world.”
“Why does everything in this world have to be so constricting?” I groaned and popped the top two buttons of my shirt. The jacket was the next to come undone. It wasn’t just the clothes. It was the spaces, the rooms, the whole damned world. I felt caged.
Vincent moved in front of me and held the door open. The sun cast a golden glow over the world, the day too beautiful in the face of the slowly building war.
“It’s just how mortals are. They need to trust and believe in you. We have to let them know that everything Kaden said is a lie. They need to feel safe.”
I only nodded. “How many more appearances?”
Logan made a face, and I knew I wouldn’t like the answer.
“About eight,” Vincent replied.
No, I did not like it. I did not want to do interviews.
I wanted to find her. It had been a month since she’d killed the Vanderkais and burned their mansion.
A month of silence with no answers. A month since I’d locked the world and set up new regulations for all living beings on Onuna.
The world knew of monsters and gods now, and the mortals more than happily obliged.
Vincent had made several new advancements regarding the alert systems for the mortals, devices and tools to make them feel protected, but my rules still applied.
No one out after nightfall, strict policies on where they went, what they did, identification for traveling, you name it.
I wanted no more blood spilled in this world over my mistakes.
I needed to find her, but I had no leads. I’d hoped it would have happened sooner rather than later, yet days turned to weeks. It seemed the more I tried to restrict the world, the easier it was for her to hide. All I could do was hope that she would slip up.
The very few Otherworld creatures that remained locked below Silver City had stopped talking after a few questions.
Considering the charred remains we had to dispose of, my hold on my powers was slipping.
That was just one reason I had decided to leave the questioning to the others.
I sighed, frustration wearing on me. I had no other Otherworld creatures to ask.
She had killed those closest to her, and the ones she hadn’t gotten to had gone into hiding.
“If we leave here now, we can make it to—”
A sharp ring cut me off, and Vincent lifted his phone to his ear. His eyes met mine, then Logan’s. He nodded and told whoever was on the other end we would be there. I didn’t need to ask what they said. I heard it.
A burned hotel.
* * *
Celestials sifted through the rubble, gathering anything that might be evidence to take back to the guild. Some carried bags, while others had small devices that glowed with celestial energy, looking for anything Otherworldly.
I stepped over another charred piece of wood in the blacked hotel room.
The smell of blood, ash, and death hung heavy in the air, plummeting me into memories of battlefields, war drums, and destructive flames.
Cities burned to metal skeletons, buildings melted and twisted, and the same damn smell.
I crouched, turning over the remains of a broken chair.
What looked like pages crumbled to ash. I knew a handful of celestials and gods that could bend flame, but nothing like this.
No one like her.
“We have to call the council, Samkiel. We can’t sweep this under the rug.
There are bodies here,” Vincent said, his voice harsh.
I stood and wiped my hands on my pants. The room, or what was left of it, was a complete and utter disaster.
The hallway and neighboring rooms seemed fine and clean.
This looked as if she had lost control, anger spewing from her in a fit of rage.
“Not yet.”
Vincent scoffed, shaking his head. “Why? Because you don’t want Imogen here?”
“Vincent,” Logan said, not looking up from his search of the ash, a warning in his tone.
“The council wants to make her your advisor once more.”
“We’re not talking about this right now,” I said.
“They said that?” Logan asked.
“Yes, and you know Cameron and Xavier will follow.”
While Dianna knew of my previous history with Imogen, her presence might still ignite Dianna’s jealousy, making her even more volatile.
I did not wish to test that theory just yet.
If I summoned the rest of The Hand, it might push her further over the edge.
It would also solidify the one thing I did not wish to be true.
If The Hand were here, then I’d lost her forever.
“I do not summon The Hand lightly. You know that, and I do not need all of you here yet. If I summon you, all of you, it’s not for capture. It’s for war. Kaden will see it as such, and we do not have even the slightest hold on Dianna yet.”
“And you don’t want to fight two Ig’Morruthens?” Vincent asked.
“Tobias makes three,” Logan added.
“Nevertheless, we are not talking about this at the moment.”
Vincent raised a single brow. “I wouldn’t jump to war, but judging by this room, we could use the help. We have no leads, and we’re a step behind her and Kaden. Again. We need more people.”
“Not. Yet.” The words hissed out of me, clipped and short, and Vincent didn’t fight me this time.
My gaze caught on the dark smudge on the far wall, and I stared, transfixed. It blossomed in the telltale splatter of arterial spray, and I wondered just how hot the fire had to burn to brand the blood so deeply into the wood.
A young celestial came through the door, tripping over the rubble as he approached.
“We collected data from the owner as you requested,” he said. He focused on Vincent, seeming unable to hold my gaze.
“This was the only footage we found of anyone coming in and out of this room.” He spun the tablet toward us, pressing a few concave buttons.
Blue lights sparked above it before the screen came to life.
A video of the hallway showed a few mortals entering and leaving.
I moved closer, Logan and Vincent flanking me, towering over the celestial.
He remained in place even as his hands shook, causing the tablet to wobble.
My heart stopped as a handful of women appeared, giggling and dancing.
One that stuck out amongst the crowd. There.
I saw her. Only it wasn’t her. She wore another mortal disguise, but I recognized Dianna no matter what form she assumed.
It was the way she moved, her every gesture inherently Dianna.
She could not hide behind cloaks and gimmicks.
Not with me. Her skin was shades paler than her natural golden bronzed in this form, and a pink that matched her minuscule dress tipped her short blonde curls.
She squealed and laughed with the others as the crowd approached the door.
My head lifted, and I glanced around the room.
Now I knew why the reek of blood and death was so pervasive. They were all still here.
“At first,” the young celestial started, “we didn’t think it was even her. Not until… Well, you’ll see.”
I looked at the tablet and recognized her body language.
She always used the same tactics in her seduction—a sway of her hips, a flip of her hair, and the slight touches to her upper torso.
Dianna reminded me of a serpent, slowly, deliberately drawing in its prey before she snapped.
It hurt to watch, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
I rubbed my hand over the smooth line of my jaw, hungry for the sight of her, even if she wasn’t in her natural form.
The outfits she favored always showed a little too much, but she didn’t need them to garner attention.
Her smile lit up the entire room, drawing men and women alike to her. Her laugh was like music to my soul.
A man ran up behind her, grabbing her around the waist with one arm and swinging her to the side.
They laughed, and my stomach turned. He handed the suitcase he carried off to another man and opened the door.
The women ran inside, but Dianna hung back, leaning against the wall.
She beckoned him closer with a slim finger and an invitation in her eyes, a temptress baiting a trap.
He fell into it eagerly, his hands running down her sides and over her hips to cup her ass so tightly she grunted and jumped.
My teeth ground and my jaw clenched as he pushed his body against hers before claiming her mouth.
I knew what it felt like to kiss those lips.
It was pure bliss, and I hated him for tasting what was mine.
Pain twisted my gut, the agony enough to make my breath hitch.
I had been nearly cut open in my youth learning how to wield a blade in battle, and this felt worse.
It was pure, intense agony, and I wanted to summon Oblivion and rip into him.
How dare he touch her, caress her? He did not know her or care for her.
She was just another body to him. The lights flickered in the room, and the tablet’s screen went black for a brief second.
Everyone stopped and looked at me. I needed to get myself under control.
What was wrong with me? I took a breath, trying to calm myself and settle my emotions.