Samael (6 page)

And Azrael crooned, his voice snaking out amongst the sweating, undulating horde to wrap around his fans like steel coils….

A stranger among us in cloak and scythe

Walks in the valley of shadow and lies

Run little fallen, he’s gaining behind,

I’ll be your shelter; look into my eyes.

As if he were obeying, compelled to do exactly what Azrael instructed, Sam glanced at the nearest oversized screen. A fire flickered in the depths of Az’s compelling gaze, an actual, volatile flame that was both a temptation – and a threat. Sam saw it clear as day.

Az was communicating with his vampires. His words were a warning to them, alerting them to the fact that Samael and his men were in the crowd.

Sam’s only hope was that the vampires, and the angels, for that matter, were smart enough to realize Sam wasn’t the only predator moving through the writhing, worshipping prey that night. Abraxos and his Adarians were somewhere in that mess too.

Mere seconds after he’d first appeared on the scene, Sam was moving through the audience like Moses parting the Red Sea. Where he went, the people separated, affording him a wide bubble of personal space. He scoured the faces of everyone he passed, and as his eyes met theirs, they froze under the intensity of his gaze.

The vampires were mobilizing. He could feel them closing in on him. If he didn’t find his wayward mate soon and get the hell out of there, he would have a battle on his hands. An epic one. In the midst of thousands of innocent mortals.

*****

Angel popped back into existence smack-dab in the middle of an undulating crowd of concert revelers. She could instantly smell alcohol, the sickly-sweet scent of burning grass, and the stronger taint of
real
drugs along with the stench of sweaty bodies. It wasn’t a cold night, and there was barely breathing room between each person.

She changed form at once. No one was looking at her anyway. Every eye in the audience was pointed at the stage or at one of the multitude of ginormous screens that had been erected here and there to reflect what was happening with the band. This was a Valley of Shadow concert.

Right on top of the Four Corners Monument.

The Four Corners Monument was where four of the states in the US actually met up at perfect right angles: Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. Angel had known long in advance that they were going to put on this concert here. For quite a while, online chatter had joked that the “Masked One,” the lead singer of Valley of Shadow, was some kind of supernatural monster. The way he moved on stage, the sound of his voice, the mesmerizing properties of his eyes, were all nudging people into whispered imaginings.

Publically, fans would joke, “He’s magic,” or “He’s a vampire,” or “He’s some sort of alien.” They took it as far as writing fan fiction about him, giving him the powers of a superhero. One particularly popular fan fiction story was turned into a comic strip and then a graphic novel, in which the Masked One could duplicate himself and stop crimes in more than one place at a time. “He can be anywhere at any time!” the victims would warn as they were being robbed. And sure enough, the Masked One would come to the rescue.

Supernatural powers or not, to its fans, one thing Valley of Shadow seemed to have in spades was a sense of humor. To play right along with its fans, and offer up a light-hearted joke at the same time, Valley decided to prove it
could
be in more than one place at once. In fact, it could technically be in
four
.

The Four Corners marker was on Navajo land, so lucky for the band, the Navajo happened to be huge fans. And, it didn’t hurt that an enormous donation was being made to the tribe. Posters for the event went up months in advance, advertising the concert with vivid imagery, stark color contrasts, and the type of font that steadfastly appeals to “Valley Walkers,” as fans were called.

Valley of Shadow comprised a lead singer, lead guitarist, a bass guitarist, a keyboardist, and a drummer. What the fanciful public didn’t know was that they were actually right on the money in their suspicions. Angel was one of the few people in the world who knew that every member of the band was actually a vampire. The lead singer was none other than the
king
of the vampires, and the former angel of death – Azrael.

Az hypnotized from the stage as a towering, well-built, enigmatic but charismatic as hell figure in black and a feature-hiding mask that provided one final barrier between him and all those questing, prying, and, these days, usually
supernatural
eyes.

Valley’s agent was Max, the Guardian. Max had been on the planet as long as the rest of them and had learned a thing or two in that time. He was a highly intelligent man who knew how to play the representation game with the best of them. He also knew how to hire good help, so that when things got rough for him and the boys, his work, and hence his cover as an agent to the most popular band in the world, didn’t falter.

They were more fragile than angels, vampires and dragons, yet mortals seemed to work harder. They never seemed to sleep. So, despite the recent excitement Max and the archangels had experienced over the archesses, troubles with Sam and the Adarians, and the dangerous, terrifying newcomer Gregori, Max’s people made sure the Valley of Shadow concert was planned out to the last detail. And the show went on.

So here she was. Just like she’d had a feeling she would be.

When Angel had learned of this concert, she’d ear-marked it in her mind as a good place to hide. She’d known the vampires would be here. She’d known the angels probably would be as well. Not to mention upwards of fifty thousand screaming fans. Here, atop the
Colorado Plateau
, the crowd could sprawl like nobody’s business, and a good portion of it would consist of supernatural blood, which would blur and disguise her own magical presence.

Now, Angel looked up at the stars, tried to figure out which direction she was facing, and then looked down at the hills surrounding the desert valley. Once she knew which way to go, she set off through the crowd at a furious pace, making certain to change her appearance as often as possible along the way.

Chapter Nine

“How wonderful. We’re all here together.” The tall man in white scanned the thumping, churning crowd, then turned to the group who stood beside him, waiting and attentive. “Is our guest of honor ready yet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think now would be a good time to test his newfound loyalties.”

One of the men turned to another and nodded. The second man left.

Gregori turned back to the lights and madness and smiled. It was a wholly unnerving smile.

*****

She’d used telekinesis to carve the tunnel out months ago. Moving this much earth by hand in the amount of time she’d done it would have been impossible for a single person of her stature, but the mind was monumentally stronger than the body, and hers was especially so. The ability to move matter with mere thought was one of her various plentiful abilities.

Telekinesis was the tip of a supernatural iceberg with her. But right now, she was sort of more grateful for that ability than any other. Transporting would be detected. She didn’t need to heal anyone. She didn’t need to change the weather, as most supernatural creatures were immune to weather changes, and anywhere Sam went, it was storming anyway. He could handle lightning.

Starting a fire or frost and throwing fireballs or ice spears would be not only pointless and worthless, but dangerous. Breathing under water wasn’t going to be necessary in Death Valley. Entering someone’s dreams was something she rarely did – it was disturbing and confusing – and again, was non-applicable just now. Transmorphing objects into something else might come in handy in a bit, if she found herself in need of weapons, but it was very draining, and at the moment, what she really needed was a way
out
.

Her telekinesis had afforded her one where nothing else could.

So she thanked her lucky stars for it while she slipped behind a mess of parked cars that went well beyond the monument’s parking lot, shifted into invisibility to avoid detection by about thirty cops, and found the dust and dirt-covered trap door she’d created months ago. It was easy to extend the invisibility over the door too, drop down into the tunnel below, and secure the door above her once more.

The sound of the concert was slightly muffled underground. There were approximately eight feet of earth between her and the revelry going on above. It was enough to take the sting out of the volume, but that was about it. Valley of Shadow played
loud
.

Angel waved her hand, and the tunnel in front of her lit up with a dim light sufficient for her to find her footing. She left the entry-way and began running, casting one last glance at the sound of the concert behind her before she was sprinting full-speed. She needed to put enough distance between herself and the crowd before she could once again transport. Maybe this time she would go to Mozambique. Or Iceland. She’d seen photographs of a monastery on the side of a cliff in Turkey. Maybe she’d go there.

Something moved directly in front of her, shifting so fast, it blurred. She skidded to a stop, and her heart jumped up into her throat.

“This is impressive,” the deep, beautiful voice complemented. “It must have taken you some time to hollow this out.”

It wasn’t Samael’s voice. But it was powerful, nonetheless. And it was still a voice Angel didn’t want to hear just then.

It also made absolutely no sense that she was hearing it down here in the tunnel.

“Azrael?” she asked, somewhat disbelievingly.

The vampire king stepped out of the shadows in front of her and cocked his handsome head to one side. He was dressed as he had been on stage, but for the mask, which was missing. “You know who I am,” he said softly, as if figuring something out in his head. “You have me at a disadvantage.”

Before she could think to stop him or erect the stronger walls she should have had up around her mind, Azrael was plunging head-long into it, clearly intent on righting that disadvantage. He got quite a bit further than she would have preferred before she finally shoved him back out and slammed her mental barriers back into place. Still, she managed to keep most of her secrets protected. It wasn’t that she couldn’t keep Azrael out; in fact, she was probably one of the very few beings on the planet who
could
do that.

It was that she had accidentally let him
in
.

Az took a step back, and his eyes flashed. “You’re Samael’s archess.”

“More or less,” she admitted, sighing. “Sort of. But it’s more complicated than that.”

“By far, I’m guessing,” Az said. He was a smart man, putting two and two together and coming up with answers few others would be able to. Leave it to the vampire king. Leave it to the former Angel of Death. He’d seen it all.

“How the hell are you down here when I can still hear you up on stage?” she asked, feeling time slip through her fingers and knowing she should be running just then. She was just very curious.

“A simple illusion,” he said with a shrug.

“Of course.” Again, leave it to a vampire. Illusion was one of their specialties.

As to how he’d managed to come down into the tunnel, well that was most likely a shadow traveling feat. Vampires of a certain age could move from one shadow anywhere on the planet to another shadow anywhere else, just as the archangels could use doors to travel to and from their Mansion. Az was the eldest vampire – the first. Plus, he had a special bond with shadows. They were a part of him by this point. They were nearly one in the same.

He’d probably felt someone moving through them and come to investigate.

“Az, you have to let me go. Samael can’t find me. It’s more important than you can imagine.” Right after she’d said it, she knew it wasn’t true. The Angel of Death probably had a very broad imagination.

His gaze narrowed on her thoughtfully, however. He was silent for a long time, and Angel was beginning to get nervous. She did not want to get into a fight with a Lost Angel. Especially not this one.

Finally, he said, “Sam isn’t alone up there.”

Angel frowned. She blinked. But then she felt it. There was a kind of hiccup in the energy around her. It was like a flow of electricity through a faulty wire. There was a storm brewing up above sure enough. That would be Sam. But there was a storm brewing through the
crowd
, too. It was a darker kind of tide making its way inward, closer to the center of the valley where the concert was taking place.

And closer to her hidden passageway’s trap door.

“
Gregori
.” Saying his name left a terrible taste in her mouth. It was like speaking the language of oil or tar. She’d never actually met him face to face, but his reputation more than preceded him.

Azrael nodded. “The Adarians are up there too.”

He almost smiled when he said that last bit; Angel could see the hint of it at the corners of his mouth. Only Azrael could have a sense of humor about this disaster. Only someone who had seen as much death as he had. And Angel could just imagine what unspoken thought had brought that hint at a smile on:
You’re the girl all the bad guys want.

“So go back through the shadows and warn your brothers about the men in the crowd, Az. Leave me alone,” she warned. Well, it was more of a strongly worded suggestion.
Everything
was with Azrael. “Let me do what I have to do.”

She couldn’t deal with all of the Adarians at once. She may have been more powerful than the archangels and their archesses, and maybe, on a good night, she could have handled most of them on her own, alone, and survived. But it was a big maybe, and facing off with the entire group was pushing the envelope, especially now that they’d been so drastically and horrifically altered.

She had little knowledge about Gregori. She knew only what he had thus far revealed: that he was one of the first bands of angels the Old Man had cast out of the angel realm and sent to Earth, and that he was bitter about it. Other than that and the fact that he’d once been in love with a mortal woman, there was little
anyone
knew. He was outside of their domain, out of their league. And he was in charge of the Adarians right now. What they were capable of was probably anything he wanted them to do. They couldn’t even
die
if he didn’t want them to.