Kate narrowed her eyes. “Pulitzer Prize–winners don’t let little things like concussions put them off their schedules.”
Alissa smiled. “You don’t need to prove how tough you are, Kate.”
“I don’t need to, but I like to.”
Alissa’s smile widened. “And your determination to go to the party has nothing to do with the fact that Nathaniel expects to find you there?”
“Of course not,” Kate said, but the corners of her mouth curved up guiltily. “You didn’t meet him. He’s somewhat—I don’t know. Sublime.”
“Some men have impossibly strong charisma,” Alissa said wistfully.
Kate inclined her head. “Speaking from experience?”
Alissa blinked and shuttered her expression. “No, but I’m a great observer of human behavior, you know. It helps me be a better muse.”
“Well, you’re certainly an amazing muse,” Kate said, fighting her investigative reporter’s instinct to dig. As friendly as Alissa was, she was also an enigma. She’d dated Grant for years, but theirs didn’t seem to be a particularly passionate relationship. That they’d never gotten married, or even engaged, caused some speculation, but Alissa had never been caught in an affair with anyone else or even seemed interested in anyone. It was odd, given how often men pursued her.
“How are things between you and Grant?”
Again, Alissa’s expression became carefully neutral. “Grant’s a wonderful man. I’m lucky to have him in my life.”
Kate burned with curiosity. Was Alissa’s relationship a sham?
“Are you sure you’re up to going tonight?” Alissa asked.
“Yes, I feel all right now.” The aftereffects of that brutal memory have passed. Another stab of compassion rocked her body. Nathaniel had been through so much. And now Kate felt like she’d been through some of it with him. Deep wounds. The trauma, both physical and emotional, had been almost unbearable. She shuddered. Where was Nathaniel now? She regretted not going with him. The raw emotional connection they had was something she’d never experienced with anyone else. She shivered, missing his warmth. She needed to see him, to be sure he was all right.
“Did you bring your dress with you? The party people will be here soon.”
“Party people?”
“The people who get me ready for important events.” Alissa rolled her eyes. “I think I could be trusted to manage on my own, but the Etherlin Council likes us to be picture perfect at our own parties. And at everyone else’s,” Alissa added with a wink. “If you don’t feel like doing your own hair and makeup, you can just sit next to me. They style everything in their paths, like a swarm of compact-carrying locusts.”
“Since I don’t get the spa treatment every day, I don’t think I’d mind. Do you think they would be annoyed at having another woman to make up?”
Alissa shook her head. “They’re artists, and nothing tempts an artist like a fresh canvas.”
Nathaniel’s memories flooded his mind in torrents of bright visions that were hard to sort. He stood straight as Merrick’s tailor popped platinum cuff links into the shirt he wore, but Nathaniel was only half paying attention. His mind was full of the first time he’d seen Kate. He’d been looking for his ring, and he’d found it on the hand of a pretty girl. She’d been lying on a bench, the sunlight streaming over her as she highlighted the book she read. She’d muttered something and laughed, putting a yellow X over a passage. In that moment, he felt something tug his soul. A memory of himself using a dagger to cut a slash across Nero’s face on the coin. Defiance. Yes, he understood that. The girl’s animated expression, the life shining on her face—they drew him to her. He’d wanted to approach her, to hear her voice, to whisper to her soul. But he hadn’t spoken to her. Not that day or any other that he could remember. Why hadn’t he? He could feel how much he’d wanted to. Unleashed now, the desire roared through him. More than anything, he wanted Kate.
This drive to be with her is significant. By instinct, I’m more drawn to her than to anything else. There must be a reason.
“You like it?” the tailor asked, nodding at Nathaniel’s reflection in the mirror.
“It’s formal. I don’t believe I normally dress this way.”
“If you don’t want to get bounced, you need the right camouflage,” Merrick said, slipping money to the tailor who nodded and left.
“It’s generous of you to help with this,” Nathaniel said.
“One hand washing the other. Here’s your invitation.”
“It’s forged?”
“It is, but it’s a very good forgery, right down to the bar code and the invisible stamp.”
“If you can create an invitation of this quality, why can’t you deliver your gift in person?”
Merrick grinned. “I’m infamous. If there’s an ES officer who doesn’t recognize me on sight, he needs to be fired.”
“Ah.”
Merrick handed him a wrapped package.
“If there’s no note, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone—even her—who sent this, how will she know it’s from you?”
Instead of answering, Merrick handed Nathaniel the card key for the hotel suite they currently occupied. “I’ll be here until eleven. After that, the room’s yours.”
Nathaniel nodded, understanding that by their arrangement Merrick was willing to answer questions that had to do with Nathaniel but not about himself.
“I still can’t remember how I was called to become an archangel,” Nathaniel said. “Shouldn’t that have come back by now?”
“Seems like it,” Merrick said.
“It’s like seeing a picture where part of the image has been blacked out. And it’s right in the center of the frame. I can’t ignore what’s missing, but no matter how long I stare at that spot, I can’t restore what’s gone. The image is stubbornly marred.”
“And you don’t remember the demons you’ve killed?”
“I remember some battles but not all of them.”
“How do you know?”
“I feel it. I have an enemy. I don’t know his name or his face, but there’s an anger that burns through me.” Nathaniel clamped his fist closed. “Rage isn’t born of nothing.”