“No,” he said. “Who knows if we ever will?” Luke stopped, entering in a pass code on the thick, round door. “Micah has discovered something potentially big.” The door swung open smoothly, and he peered through to make sure the platform was empty. “He spotted a major player with a senator’s aide a few days ago—a Senator Sharpe.”
She followed him through and shut the door behind her. Once in the open area of the subway, she breathed a little better. “Who did he see?”
“Asmodeus,” he answered quietly.
Lily nearly tripped over her feet. “What?” Baal was back and now this? Christ.
Luke surveyed the empty platform. “The aide is now recently deceased due to a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
“Of course,” she muttered. “Do you think whoever is sending the Fallen names is actually working with Asmodeus?” When he nodded, she cursed again. “Oh God, that is not good.” She wanted nothing more than to beat the living crap out of whoever that was. “Why would someone do this? Everyone is like family here.”
He stared down the tracks, a far-off look in his pale eyes. “Someone who hates the Sanctuary,” he said quietly. “Maybe someone who hates Nate.”
“Hates Nate?” she questioned.
Luke shrugged. “He’s the boss. Could be a vendetta against him, someone who wants to cause as much destruction as possible.”
None of those were a good enough reason for her. The Nephilim were already sorely outnumbered by the Fallen and minions. To lose any more to the Fallen would hurt them severely. “We need to find out who this person is, because God only knows what Asmodeus is doing with those young Nephilim…or if it has anything to do with the senator.”
Her gaze followed Luke’s, and the bright lights of the approaching train cast them both in an eerie yellowish glow. As the train slowed, she felt a sudden flicker of unease. She stepped closer, wrapping her arm around Luke. “I don’t want to believe that one of us would shack up with Asmodeus.”
He glanced down at her. “Me, neither, but we need to make it a priority—you and I.”
The train came to a stop in front of her. As the door creaked open, she wrinkled her nose against the smell of body odor and disinfectant. She looked up at Luke, half of his face shadowed. The unease grew. “Like old times?” she whispered.
“Like old times.”
It didn’t take them long to make it to Michael’s apartment. Lily balked at the door to the stairwell. The idea of getting cornered in there again twisted her stomach. With a disgruntled glance at her bandaged arm, she pushed Luke toward the elevator.
“What? You have post-traumatic stress now?” he joked.
Like old times apparently meant making fun of her.
Luke relented when she threatened to push him down the elevator shaft and took a hefty swing at his head.
He fished out a key from his pocket.
Lily raised her brows. “Does Michael know you have that?”
He shrugged, slipping inside. “No.”
She rolled her eyes, following him and then closing the door behind her. They stood in the dark, empty apartment. Having been too pissed off the last time she’d been in here, she really hadn’t looked at anything. Now she roamed over to his coffee table and picked up a small picture frame. “I have no idea what he would want. Do you?”
Luke headed straight to the small kitchen, throwing open cabinets until he found a box of garbage bags. “Just grab clothes and anything you think is personal.” He handed her several bags, shuffling past to a tiny matchbox-sized bathroom.
How would she know? She flipped over the picture, staring down at it. A pretty young blonde smiled at the camera, her arms wrapped around a small boy who grinned impishly up at her. The little thing was Michael, but that wasn’t what caught her eye. It was the woman she assumed was his mother. The photo had captured the woman’s happiness in a way that struck her. She couldn’t help but compare her few memories of her own mother to this picture. Her mom had never been happy. A depressed, bitter, angry shell of a woman was who her mother had been.
Lifting the picture, she noticed a small crucifix around both Michael’s neck and the woman’s. “I feel wrong going through his stuff,” she called to Luke as she slid the frame into one of the larger pockets of her pants.
He snorted from the bathroom. “Really, I would’ve never thought that would bother you.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did you know Michael’s name never came up in the Book of Names?”
Shocked, she paused halfway between Michael’s bedroom and the living room. “What?”
“Yeah.” He came out of the bathroom. “Wonder what that means?”
She gaped at him. “Did Nathaniel tell you this?”
He nodded. “He didn’t want anyone to know. I guess he’s worried about how the other Nephilim would take that little piece of knowledge. So don’t go running back to Nathaniel demanding answers.”
Stung, she did want to run back to Nathaniel and demand why he hadn’t told her.
Obviously he didn’t trust her with the information, and she wanted to know why. Did he think she was the rat? He wouldn’t. He knows me.
Luke glided into the kitchen with a bag full of personal items. Her gaze dropped to her empty bag and she sighed. He popped open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer.
Shaking her head, she watched him unscrew the cap. She had no idea why Luke insisted on drinking beer. It was rather pointless.
She strode off to Michael’s bedroom to gather up as much clothing as possible. Not sure what he preferred, she started throwing everything she could get her hands on into the garbage bag. Opening one drawer, she wondered how one man could have so many pairs of socks that didn’t match.
Turning on a bedside lamp, she spied a little crystal dish that had been shoved to the back of the table. Inside the dish were two crucifixes. Lily scooped up the necklaces and slipped them into her pocket with the frame.
Seeing a small shoe box on top of the dresser, she dropped the bag of Michael’s possessions and stepped over to it. She quickly slid off the lid, rifling through the documents. Inside were a couple more pictures of his mom and him, a few newspaper clippings announcing his graduation, and several personal-identification documents. One of the pictures caught her eye. She pulled it out, holding it gently between her fingers. His mother was a beautiful woman; her smile simply radiated. Lily couldn’t help but think this woman didn’t look like someone mourning the loss of a fallen angel.
No. She’d appeared happy to be alive and with her son. Not someone intending to take her own life as a way to escape the painful wound that a Fallen always left in his wake.
Chapter Thirteen
Lily trailed behind Luke and Micah, only half listening to their argument. They had been at it since the moment they had climbed into the Escalade. All she gathered was that Micah was upset about Luke pulling him off an assignment. He had been hunting longer than Lily but nowhere near the amount of time Luke had been at it. She recognized how dangerous Asmodeus was, and why Luke was better suited, but she also understood how butt-sore Micah was. She was feeling quite the same way after learning about Michael and the Book of Names. It never felt good to be doubted…or left out.
Clutching the little shoe box in her hands, she let out a weary sigh. I came back here for this? She wished she knew where they had stashed Michael so she didn’t have to listen to the bitchfest that would never end. The ride had been bad enough, but the awkwardness in the elevator was something she never wanted to repeat.
They stopped on level seven, which surprised her. Only Nathaniel and the circle had rooms on this level. Michael was just superspecial since he was “thou shall not be named” in the Book.