“Yes. Marlin Tucker and our other target can wait—call Janvier and ask if some of his and Ashwini’s snitches can keep an eye on Tucker’s apartment as well as that of the third fraudster in the interim.”
Holly made the call, got Janvier’s agreement.
That done, she settled back in her seat and watched the world speed by. There weren’t many people she’d trust to drive this fast on rain-slick streets and keep the car under control, but Venom’s reflexes were even quicker than her own—and she was inhumanly fast.
Her skin chilled as the thought whispered through her mind, the strange thing inside her, the thing that wasn’t in any way human, feeling as if it was salivating and readying itself for a rampage. She fisted her hands, took a deep breath, exhaled. And still, the thing spread itself inside her. It was as if she had a pair of huge wings trapped inside that wanted to tear out of her flesh.
God, she was going batshit insane.
That was why she hadn’t told anyone what was happening when the whispers began. She still remembered the first time—it had been as Raphael fought Lijuan in the skies above Manhattan. Holly had wanted to volunteer to help in some way, but her control had still been erratic at that time, too erratic for anyone to trust her in the field.
So she’d watched the battle from a distance and she’d heard a whisper from deep within: I can kill them both.
The sheer madness of believing she could kill two archangels had staggered Holly. But that had just been the first sign of crazy from her psycho mind. She’d gritted her teeth and ridden it out each time it happened, and hoped it was the last time. But the mad, whispering voice—and the accompanying sensations—were getting stronger, not weaker.
“Kitty, you’re growling.” It was a relaxed comment.
Holly swallowed the feral sound with jaw-clenched will. “Damn it. Sorry.”
A shrug. “Doesn’t bother me—I told you, use what lives in you instead of fighting it.”
Holly parted her lips, almost told him that she wasn’t sure what lived in her should ever be allowed out into the light of day. Snapping her mouth shut before the words could escape, she turned to look out the window again as they hit the Angel Enclave. She might’ve had a death wish once but she’d gotten over that. Her parents didn’t deserve to have their hearts broken by having to bury Holly because the Tower had decided she was too dangerous to be permitted to live.
Unable to see clearly because of the rain-fogged glass, she rolled down her window to the cool air. Fine droplets of rain settled on the skin of her face in a welcome burst of freshness. The world was even darker outside, the Angel Enclave a place of tall gates amid taller trees and heavy foliage. The homes beyond were far distant, at the end of long drives. The most exclusive perched on the cliffs that looked out over the Hudson to the glittering spectacle of Manhattan.
The only Enclave home in which Holly had ever been was Ash and Janvier’s.
Elena had invited her to drop by for a visit, but Holly preferred to stay out of Raphael’s view. She had the uneasy feeling the Archangel of New York would see through her to the madness that whispered egotistical, horrific, and frankly insane thoughts at unpredictable moments.
“What’s Raphael and Elena’s house like?” she asked, her curiosity trumping even her horror at what she was becoming.
“A home,” was Venom’s simple answer.
Odd as it was, she understood. To her, Raphael might be the deadly Archangel of New York, a being whose notice she never wanted to attract, but to Elena, he was the man she loved, and to Venom, he was the archangel Venom chose to serve. An archangel who’d protected the city with his own life and who Elena said had honor stamped in his soul. “Could you get a place along here if you wanted?”
“The land is tightly held.” Venom took a curve with smooth grace, though their speed was deadly. “I prefer the city in any case. It’s too quiet in the Enclave. Who needs all this green and peace? I’d rather listen to cabdrivers yelling at one another while the smell of hot dogs and pretzels makes me wish I could turn human for fifteen minutes.”
Holly found herself surprised into laughter. “That’s what I think, too. About it being too quiet.” The homes were undeniably beautiful, with stellar views, but she’d rather be in the chaotic busyness of the city.
Venom turned right, heading away from the exclusive cliff-front real estate and deeper into the Enclave.
“The incompetent Kenasha’s not top tier?” As Venom had so bluntly stated, there was a hierarchy. At the top were the archangels, then angels like Illium and Aodhan, who were powers in their own right.
“The waste of angelic space is four thousand years old,” Venom told her. “I could take him without breaking a sweat—give you a few more years and I’d put my money on you rather than him.” A short pause. “Scratch that, kitty. You could take him right now.”
Holly blinked at that harsh assessment. “He’s that weak?”
“He keeps himself that weak. Even if he never developed an innate power, he could’ve built himself up physically over time to become a formidable warrior like many of those in the Tower squadrons.”
Thinking of the squadron members she’d run into, Holly nodded. Many of them did pulse with inborn power that pushed against her senses, but not all. Some were simply strong and fast and dangerous.
“Angels,” Venom added, “have an incredible physical advantage in how quickly they heal and how strong their musculature can become with far less effort than required by vampires or mortals who want to achieve the same aim. But Kenasha prefers to sit on his ass and live off the money his parents accumulated. Raphael once said he thinks they went into Sleep out of embarrassment.”
“Huh.” Holly chewed on that. “Somehow, I didn’t think angels could have deadbeat sons.” It defied logic that a being of that age could have wasted his entire life. “Shouldn’t he have achieved something out of sheer boredom?”
“You would think so, but he is a parasite who sucks at his parents’ teat.” Venom’s lip curled. “He’s a disgrace. A son is meant to care for his family.”
Holly usually forgot Venom’s age, he was so urbane and now, and then he’d say something like that. But of course, it wasn’t only a case of age but the deep impact of a culture where elders often lived with the younger generation. Like Rania, the girl who’d been Holly’s friend since fourth grade, Venom had been born in India.
“Not just a son,” she said, an ache of loss and memory thickening her throat. “My siblings and I will be taking care of our parents when they’re older and can’t live alone anymore.” The idea of caring for the elders in the family was as ingrained in her as it apparently was in Venom. “My paternal grandfather and grandmother used to live with us until they passed.”