“No, sister,” Daina counseled, “we must make the council safe. For the Irina council to be wiped out now—just when we’ve finally reformed—would be devastating to our people. We will let the captain guard us and trust our sisters to play their part in the battle.”

Several of the elder singers glared, but none contradicted Daina. They knew the woman was right.

Sari stepped forward. “We believe that Grimold’s children are in the city. The human population appears to be gone. They have come for us.”

“What do you mean ‘gone?’” Konrad asked.

“Just that,” Damien said. “They are not here. One of the archangels appears to have put the city in stasis.”

“The whole city?” Jerome asked. “But—”

“It doesn’t work on any with angelic blood,” Ava said. “Jaron told us. So there may be humans with Grigori blood roaming around really, really confused. Other than that, yes, they can do it. I’ve seen Jaron do it before, and it may be something that other angels can do too. The humans aren’t gone, they’re just… elsewhere right now.”

“Vienna is under attack,” Malachi said. “The elder singers’ homes have been invaded. We need to get guards checking any Irina safe houses in the city.”

Constance stepped forward and said, “I will tell the captain where they are, but I only trust the Library guards.”

Jerome sighed. “Constance—”

“The Library Guard or we stay in hiding,” the singer said with an ironclad will. “These are not warriors. These are teachers and healers. And I will not trust these women to any but our strongest.”

“How many?” Damien asked. “How many of your Irina are in the city right now?”

Constance glared at him, but then looked between him and Sari and relented. “No more than forty. Some are capable of defending themselves. But if we are overrun—”

“There is a Rafaene house in the second district near the Carmelite Church. Your sisters could take refuge there. The scribes would be bound to protect them.”

Constance nodded. “They are mostly in the first district. That could work.”

“Let the Library Guard protect you and the other elders,” Damien said. “When my men get here, I will give them the task of helping your sisters to the Rafaene scribe house. No one will be able to touch them there.”

“Very well,” Constance said. “And the rest of us?”

The fourteen elders stood solemnly, watching the captain of the Library Guard.

“Come with me,” he said. “We have defenses set up to protect the Council.” He held out a hand when the secretaries and other assistants stepped forward. “Only the council.”

A pale scribe asked, “But what should we do?”

“Fight,” Malachi said. “Or stay out of the way of those who will.”

VASU materialized in midair, tossing Volund’s body into the sculpture rising from the stones of the Graben. The normally bustling pedestrian mall was empty, thanks to Jaron’s manipulations, and no one was there to hear the archangel scream.

“Did that hurt?” Vasu taunted. “Surely not. Surely an archangel has more fortitude than to be hurt by the petty constructions of man.”

“You?” Volund roared and flung himself across the street, tackling the younger angel from his perch near the column of a nearby building. The stone cracked as they rolled into it, and the towering structure groaned. “Galal killed you!”

“Obviously not.” Vasu laughed and blinked away, appearing to perch on top of the marble and gold angels of the plague column, the grand Baroque sculpture in the heart of Old Vienna some human ruler had commissioned to thank their god for mercy.

“Why do the humans make angels look like babies?” he mused. “It’s insulting.”

He ducked to the side as Volund leapt for him, his hands and feet crumbling the marble like so much dust as he crawled up the column.

“You do like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?” Volund sneered.

“Yes.” Vasu stood balanced on one foot at the very top of the twenty-one- meter column. “I’m very clever.”

“You’re very irritating. I’m going to kill you now, whelp. Then I will deal with Galal.”

“You can try. But don’t worry.” His voice lost its humor. “I have my own plans for Galal.”

From his perch, Vasu could see the shadows of Grigori slipping into the city. But he couldn’t look long because Volund grabbed his foot, flinging him from the sculpture and slamming him into the stones below.

He’d forgotten how much impact could hurt in this form. How irritating. Still, it was better to be able to shift quickly.

Volund’s lip curled. He stopped playing and drew a flaming sword from his side. “Do you remember this?”

Vasu’s eyes gleamed. “Oh yes.”

“I will slay you with it and feed your body to your children.”

He ignored Volund but not the sword. “A Guardian’s sword. Oh Volund, I should be afraid, shouldn’t I?” He paused, looked his enemy in the eye. “And yet… I wonder.”

“You won’t have to wonder for long,” Volund growled.

“Would Jaron trust me with her location?”

Volund froze.

“I could be there in a heartbeat.” Vasu smiled. “Did you think your secret was safe?”

The other angel bared his teeth.

“I’ve always wondered what would happen if one of us killed her. Killed your mate.” Vasu sneered.

Volund roared and swung his sword at Vasu. He flipped and spun, an expert with the angelic blade. And yet Vasu had been created to be a messenger of the heavens. His speed exceeded even the most dangerous of the Creator’s guard.

“Would it hurt, Volund?” Vasu appeared behind Volund. “Would you bleed if she died?”

Volund turned and flung the blade at Vasu, only to have it come spinning back when its mark dissolved seconds before it hit.

“Is that why you hate her so much?” he whispered in Volund’s ear.

And he was gone.

“Where is Jaron?” Volund spun in a rage, kicking the stone as shattered pieces of the old buildings rained down on the gracious streets below.

“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” Vasu was perched on the plague column again, sitting on the head of a fat cherub, leaning his dark head against the gold. “You won’t find him until he wants you. Just like you won’t find your mate.” He sneered the word. “But I can. Jaron hasn’t hidden her from me, has he?”

Volund moved with lightning speed, leaping from the corner of his building and climbing up the sculpture. But it was not fast enough for Vasu, who blinked away again.

And appeared at the top of a building one hundred meters down the Graben. “Of course, maybe I already know where she is!” Vasu shouted. “Is that why you let Jaron hide her from the world? To protect yourself?”

With a roar, Volund jumped over the rooftops, raining stone and glass down on the street below. Just as he swung his body over the last one, Vasu grinned and blinked away.

Then he was at Volund’s back, a heaven-forged blade pressed to the angel’s throat. “I have no love for Jaron’s blood. And your very soul would split in two if your mate died, wouldn’t it? What a brilliant idea.” He kissed the angel’s cheek. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

Volund grabbed Vasu’s arm and swung him overhead. The younger angel grimaced. His eyes swam and his body made a sickening crack into the building. The ground shook below them as Volund began to bring the blade down.

Vasu only smiled and disappeared.

“WHAT is that crashing sound?” Ava asked.

“I don’t know, but I want you to listen to me.” Malachi pulled Ava away from Damien and the others, who were shouting orders to the scribes who had joined them. The whole group had run out of the Hofburg and behind the riding school, taking the smaller side streets as they made their way toward St. Stephen’s Cathedral, drawing attention away from the Library and toward a position they would be able to secure.