Page 68 of Sacrifice
She laughed at his feeble attempt to undermine her. “It’s mine, smartass. It was my grandmother’s, been in the family for generations.”
That wiped the smile off his face. “How many?” he growled.
“It goes back a long way. At least four that I know of. Why? Do you think I stole it?”
“What are you?” he said in a whisper. His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It doesn’t add up. You don’t look like a celestial. You’ve got no aura. Like him.” He tailed off and Eve saw ethereal lines of energy appear around him as he muttered something under his breath. Ancient words that formed ghostly sigils in the air between them.
He grabbed one of her arms and pulled it across the table, exposing the white flesh of her forearm.
A symbol darkened on the skin of her arm, an intricate glyph, like the sparkling runes she’d seen on her body the previous day.
“I should have known,” he said, as the glow around him faded. “You wear his mark.”
She rubbed at the symbol, but it did not fade now that Michaels had summoned it. Knobbly flesh puckered like an angry scar. It looked like she’d been branded. She ran her fingers over it. “What? What is this?” I didn’t feel beautifully magical like the others Lucien had shown her before. Its energy was sinister, like a cancer corrupting her skin.
His expression hardened. “A dark glamour. To hide you from me.”
“He’s not dark. You’re a liar. He is Elham.”
Michaels shook his head and looked Eve over. “I don’t know how he found you. I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed. He’s a reaver. The last thing he’d want is to let me know he’d got you, an unprotected power source.”
Eve quivered with irritation. “A reaver? What are you talking about?” Eve rubbed at her temples. “Do you ever make sense?”
“He kills the possessed to release the dybbuk within. We cleanse humanity. It is his eternal punishment, and mine to police it.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re touched by the quintessence, Eve. With this mark on you, I couldn’t see your true nature. Lucien has hidden you from me.”
Eve looked down to the mark and back up to Michaels. “He loves me.”
Michaels pulled down the corners of his mouth, and reached forward to press the record button.
“Eve Areli, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of James Mallory. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention something when questioned, which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
“What!” Eve made to stand, and Michaels grabbed her by the wrist.
“You’re going to spend some time at his majesty’s pleasure.”
Thirty-Five
Michaels paced backand forth in his office. Getting Eve into custody was only the beginning.
“Are we going to arrest him then?” Jesper asked.
“He’s definitely up to something devious, but the last place I want the Reaver is in the same building as her.” Michaels delved into the quintessence, feeling for Lucien, and found he was not far away.
“He’s at the British Museum. His exhibition is part of this.”
Jesper nodded. “Want me to go over there?”
“We need to take control of it. You go ahead. Get the lay of the land and I’ll meet you there. We’ll need a couple of bodies to put on the door and the paperwork to keep things official. If I can keep him out with mortal law, maybe we can stop this from getting too messy.”
“On it.” Jesper got straight to his feet, moved into a shadowy corner, and slipped into the path between darkness and light.
If the Dark Fae were rallying behind Lucien too, they couldn’t afford to let him get any kind of foothold. Michaels glanced out of the window at the brightening sky. The golden light of dawn glowed at the horizon to chase away the last vestiges of night.
Suddenly, a tremendous burst of light ignited, far exceeding the usual dawn of a new day. An explosion. Its shockwave rattled the office windows and Michaels staggered backward. He scanned the skyline, searching for smoke and delved into the quintessence for answers. There had been a disruption in the natural energy—far more significant than that of a traditional bomb blast.
