Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13)(73)

“Did anyone take samples for further study?”

A hard shake of the head. “It all happened too quickly. We were terrified of the possibility of the insects getting out. We already have a plague of reborn, don’t need anything more. And the insects were moving.”

Sharine couldn’t imagine the horror, knew she’d have made the same call. “Was he the only one so infested?”

“We didn’t attempt to find out. Given the risk of containment failure, the sire made the decision to incinerate all the bodies in situ—he did the same with all the furniture.”

That explained the large burned patches on the floor.

“It was the safest possible option. If the contagion had been contained in this room, we didn’t wish to let it out.” A sad look at the painting. “The sire couldn’t bring himself to destroy it, but I don’t think it’ll ever be permitted out of this place.”

“All things come to an end, child.” And she’d been given an unexpected chance to say good-bye. Poignant sadness entwined with a sense of thankfulness as she turned away to glance up at the walls again; Kiama’s words had triggered another awareness in her mind. “There are seals around the boarded-up windows.”





35


You see it.” The warrior’s voice was grim. “A vampire member of the entry team—Sarouk is his name—took images of this entire place on a phone. Our scientists looked at the images. They say the window boards are constructed in such a way as to create an airtight seal.”

Around them, the air pulsed with hidden knowledge.

“The door is the same,” Kiama said. “Our entry team did some damage to it as we had to force it open, but that’s now been repaired.”

Ah, there was the answer to the pop of sound she’d heard on their entry. “Was this the room where Charisemnon did his experiments?”

Kiama shook her head. “We believe it was more of a holding chamber, a gallery where he could watch the progress of the disease.” She pointed to several dark circles in the walls and ceiling. “Cameras. He might’ve preferred to live like the kings of old, but Archangel Charisemnon knew the value of technology.”

This, Sharine wouldn’t have expected. The Charisemnon she’d met had been scathing about the modern world and its conveniences. Just another example of his hypocrisy and lies.

“We worried about Sarouk and our other vampire warriors,” Kiama said. “It was possible there might’ve been something in the air that could’ve infected them, but nobody has shown any effects. We had no reason to worry about angelic infection then.” A glance at Sharine. “Are airborne contagions a viable risk?”

“Given that Charisemnon chose to use insects to carry disease, and experimented with making the reborn even more virulent,” Sharine said, “I don’t believe he possessed the ability to launch an airborne attack. At least not a fatal one.”

She hadn’t forgotten the Falling—but there, the deaths had resulted from angels falling into the streets in the path of traffic, and other such accidents. Whatever Charisemnon had done had only pushed them into unconsciousness, not death—and she’d heard Illium say that Charisemnon had suffered terrible consequences as a result.

From what she knew of Charisemnon and what she’d learned of late, she didn’t believe he would’ve taken the risk of becoming so debilitated a second time around. Especially since his goal had been to kill Titus—for only an archangel could kill another archangel. Hence the insects, and his use of Lijuan’s reborn as a poisonous base on which to build.

“Was Charisemnon showing signs of disease when he fought Titus?” she asked, to be certain.

Kiama’s face was a picture of disgust. “I was never close to him, but the sire has said his breath smelled of decay, as if he was rotting from within.”

“But he was able to fight?”

“Yes.” Kiama’s jaw worked as she lifted a finger to her cheek. “He managed to harm the sire, shatter his arm, damage part of his face.”

A burn inside Sharine’s blood at the thought of Titus being injured by someone so unworthy. “Then I don’t believe he’d been working on an airborne disease—I’m told he was bedridden and covered with sores after the Falling. And that was to create mere moments of unconsciousness; an airborne disease might well have ended him.”

Kiama’s expression altered to watchful scrutiny. “You have better sources than many spymasters I think.”

What she had was an archangel who treated her with the same respect he gave his mother, and a son, as well as a protégé who knew their liege begrudged her no information. She also had Caliane. Her friend, too, told Sharine anything she wished to know, for Sharine had held faith with Caliane longer than these young ones could imagine. “I’m old, child, and I value my loves and friendships.”

Perhaps one day, this young and angry warrior, too, would call Sharine friend, but for now, the divide of years stood between them. How very strange when Kiama was likely not that much younger than Titus. There was no distance with Titus, no sense of a chasm formed by age.

Now, Kiama gave a slow nod. “I hope you are right in your supposition of Archangel Charisemnon’s capabilities, Lady Sharine. Else we are all doomed.” She stepped to an area to the left. “The dead vampire here, he looked as if he’d been attacking himself. Biting at his own arms, chunks of flesh missing.”