Greyson turned around again. “Maleficarum, Nick. How fast can you guys get to the roof . . .”

“The elevator—”

“Can’t use the elevator. You need to use the stairs, and you need to use them fast.”

They glanced at Brian, who nodded. The three of them took off.

“Why the roof . . .” Tera started opening drawers, pulling out bits of paper and inspecting them.

“Because I have a feeling that’s where he’s going to try to take Megan when he gets her.”

“What the hell do you mean, when he gets me?”

Greyson nodded at the monitor. “Because whatever Gunnar’s goals are, I’m betting you’re hers.”

Megan looked. Leora Lawden was walking through the lobby doors.

Her mouth fell open. “No. It couldn’t be her.”

“Oh, I assure you it is. In fact, I thought it was her alone from the beginning. It wasn’t until Justine was killed that I realized it was Gunnar as well.”

“But why—”

“She didn’t exactly want you in the picture, Meg,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure Gunnar was using her to get closer to you. Who knows what he promised her, but it must have been good.”

“But her father. She wouldn’t have plotted against her own father?”

“She probably didn’t even know what he had in mind. She’s not the brightest child. I don’t think she bothered to give much thought to anything else, as long as he was willing to give her a way to get rid of you.” His mouth twisted. “Not every woman thinks marrying a Gretneg is a horrible fate.”

“That’s not—” she started, but the words were torn from her mouth when a blast of energy poured into her, through her, sending her to the floor in a vibrating heap. Her arms, her legs, were no longer under her control. Neither were her thoughts. She felt them all, felt above them that same horrible blinding white light she’d felt on the roof, the same light that had nearly destroyed her in Elizabeth Reid’s room.

She was vaguely aware of Greyson’s hands on her, of Tera’s voice trying to talk to her or utter some sort of spell, or whatever she was trying to do. It didn’t help. She curled up into a ball as tight as she could, tried to see through half-blind eyes a place to hide, a place to escape to.

And they were coming. Getting closer and closer. She felt the angel’s triumph as the ballroom doors opened. Felt the entire crowd cowed by him, entranced by him, bathed in the kind of ecstasy only felt by lunatics and junkies. Felt the bloodlust they didn’t even recognize. They thought they were on a crusade, and she guessed they were.

To rid the world of demons.

And she was first on their list.

Chapter 30

Energy pulsed through her, thicker and darker and sweeter all at once. From Roc. From her demons. Some of the shrieking pain subsided. Somehow she was able to pull herself to her feet. “They’re coming.” She gasped. “They’re leaving the ballroom, they—”

Greyson nodded at Tera. Each of them grabbed one of her hands. “Now,” Greyson said, and Tera’s voice filled the air, filled her ears. The room spun and swirled, and she felt herself turning into something unreal, something she’d only been once before a few days back. The world went blurry, and suddenly she was on the roof, beneath the darkening summer sky, its blue-gray glow still faintly orange at the edges.

And she could think again. “What are we doing up here? Why up here?”

“This is where it will come,” Greyson said again. “This is where we have the best shot at beating it.”

“But why? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We can ambush it here. More important, it can’t get hold of any more people up here. They’re too far away. And it likes roofs. Angels like open areas. They’re not happy indoors or anywhere with walls. This is going to be the place.”

She didn’t want to argue anymore. Especially not about something like that. He said it, he believed it. It was enough for her.

But there was one thing she could say, and she would. Energy still swirled and strummed inside her, making her feel as if her skin was about to fly off her body. She reached for him, tried to use that contact to calm her, but his hand just sat in hers.

“I didn’t know where you were,” she said. Tera was listening interestedly from a few feet away; Maleficarum, Nick, and Brian wandered around the door leading up from the floor below. Roc still hovered on her shoulder. But she didn’t care who heard. “I thought— I thought maybe it had gotten you. That you were gone.”

“And?” He wasn’t pulling away, but he wasn’t giving her much either. Well, she supposed she couldn’t expect much else.

“I didn’t—”

Shout. Screams. The door burst open, and a flood of humanity poured out onto the roof. Businessmen. Hotel employees. The sad sacks from the reverend’s meeting. The reverend himself, his eyes literally blazing, his mouth open in a roar that sent fear shooting straight up her spine and into her brain.

And above them all rose the angel. Not the non-descript man she’d seen before, no. Not even the thing that had captured her on the roof. This was a beast, a creature of primordial rage and righteousness. Its eyes flamed, its skin glowed white, blinding white, searing its image into her retinas. In its hand it carried a flaming sword, blue-white flames, vicious and ravenous in her eyes.

Oh God how were they going to beat this how could they possibly beat this thing—

Roc’s fingers dug into her shoulder; Greyson’s into her hand. She heard Brian screaming, saw Nick—in typical Nick fashion—leap into battle with his sword raised and a look of unholy glee on his face.

But she waited. She didn’t know what to do. Attack or hold back? Try to read the humans, see if she could break the hold on them, or would that take up too much energy?

The angel’s flaming sword spun. He caught one of the people, a woman, with his blade; she fell, her shoulder and arm landing several feet away from the rest of her.

That was enough for Megan. She yanked her hand from Greyson’s and stepped back, willing him to stand in front of her, to keep her from being seen just one second longer. She had no idea if this would work or if it would simply make her shine like a beacon, but she did it anyway.

She lowered her shields all the way and pushed her energy out into the crowd.

Oh God. The hold he had on every one of them, the way he subsumed them. They had no conscious thought. They had no free will. It was as if they had no souls.

She pushed at them, pushed with everything she had, calling every bit of strength she could possibly get from her Yezer, from the air, from everything else. Wind kicked up around her, stronger and stronger, the thing fighting back. She heard its voice like insects in her soul rising above the screams, braced her feet to keep from falling, and pushed harder.

The angel’s hold—like a membrane, thick and semi-opaque—wavered around them. She caught a few thoughts, a few images, an overwhelming sense of peace and dark joy, the blissed-out happiness of the living, uncaring dead.

Greyson shouted something. She didn’t know what, couldn’t focus on him. His voice was a buzz in her ear, a fly she had to ignore. The membrane was loosening; it wasn’t giving way, but she could feel it, could lift it away from some of the people. If she could set even a few of them free, just a few—

Greyson leaped forward. A scream, loud and feminine—Leora. Megan turned to look for the girl and lost her hold on the membrane.

Damn it. Leora was there, all right, and Greyson was heading for her, but it was too late. Brian already had a hold on her, gripping her by the neck and pulling her back. She would have smiled if she hadn’t been so distracted; Brian wasn’t fighting the angel, but he’d take on anyone else, and clearly Greyson’s heading for Leora had given him someone to focus on. Fine.