Biting Cold (Chicagoland Vampires #6)(55)
Author: Chloe Neill

Juliet nodded gravely and disappeared, and Lindsey started for the stairs. His hands crossed before him obsequiously, piously, Seth folowed her, the rough fabric of the cassock thrushing as he walked. It didn’t sound especialy comfortable. I imagined stiff, starched fabric rubbing raw skin, and the thought gave me cold sweats.

Had he found religion? Did he feel guilty for what he’d done, or for what Dominic had done? Was the garment, as itchy as it sounded, some kind of personal punishment?

We rounded the stairs at the second floor. Lindsey opened the double doors to the Cadogan balroom, watching suspiciously as we filed in. When we were wel inside, she shut the door behind us.

The room was large, with oak floors, golden wals gilded with framed mirrors. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling above us.

They’d once held hundreds of candles, but those had been replaced with lightbulbs after an attack by a group of rebel shifters. The bulbs didn’t offer as much ambience, but one less fire hazard in a building reviled by people who’d once carried torches to flush out monsters seemed like a good precaution.

Seth walked into the room. He stopped beneath the chandelier, then turned a half circle as he looked up at it. "This is a beautiful space," he said.

"Your approval is appreciated," Lindsey said. "Start talking."

Seth looked at me, and I nodded. He began to talk, less a discussion than a monologue. A sermon.

"Milennia ago, the world was a different place. The divisions between humans and others were…less rigid. Humans were aware of supernaturals. We, the messengers, bridged the gap between them. Messengers like me arbitrated for peace.

Messengers like Dominic administered judgment. At first, humans caled us angels and deemed us virtuous."

"And then what happened?" I asked.

"The angels of judgment, the others, grew to love violence," Seth said. "They satisfied their lust for it, their compulsion for it, by meting it out for any perceived slight. Humans, so often the victims of that compulsion, didn’t appreciate it. They caled them the Dark Ones, and they deemed them falen. Demonic. Devilish.

The source of evil."

"And so humans began to distinguish between good and evil."

Seth looked at me thoughtfuly. "You remembered what we talked about when I was incarcerated."

I nodded.

"Humans wanted the violence to stop, but the falen angels were arrogant and refused to believe their actions were wrong.

And so a war was waged between humans and messengers.

Incensed by the humans’ conceit, the justice givers delivered redemption on their own terms, destroying human cities and salting the earth so nothing could grow again."

"Carthage," I quietly murmured.

"You said messengers, plural," Lindsey said. "There are others of you?"

"There are many, although our roles are diminished. Our magic is old, and our ways are old. We aren’t part of this world, not in the way we once were."

"And the Maleficium?" I asked.

"When humans grew sick of the destruction, they caled their magicians, who separated evil from good and placed it into a vessel that would contain it. The Maleficium, the book, was created to hold the evil they’d separated out. But it wasn’t just a thing. A power."

"What was it?" Lindsey quietly asked, transfixed by the story.

Suddenly, it al made sense. Wel, most of it.

"It was them," I said. "The falen angels. The Maleficium was created to separate good and evil – they thought the falen angels were evil. Which means the Maleficium was created to hold the falen angels. Dominic and the others."

"The magicians didn’t know how to kil them," Seth said, "so they thought to lock them away for eternity. At least until Malory came along. Malory’s spel at the silo – what was she trying to do?"

"It was a conjuring spel," Lindsey said. "It does seem like she conjured someone."

But I shook my head. "The Maleficium didn’t release Dominic. He didn’t pop out of the book. He split off from Seth."

"Is that why you look alike?" Lindsey asked.

Seth’s expression was sad. "No," he said. "I’m afraid the answer is much simpler. Messengers of justice and of peace were always born to earth in pairs. It was an innate way of keeping the world in balance."

The magical world was big on balance. Good and evil. Dark and light. The reason Malory’s first attempt to unleash the Maleficium on the world caused so much havoc in Chicago was precisely because dark and light magic were thrown out of whack.

And humans thought magic was al about fairy tales and simple stories. Little did they know.

"You are twins," Lindsey said. "Real-life twins."

"We were. Are," he corrected, his expression slinking toward despair. "Although he and I are very different creatures. We always have been."

Before any of us could react to that, the door burst open.

Ethan stood there, Juliet and Luc behind him. A perk of magic filed the air, and Ethan had the fire of a devil in his eyes.

He moved toward Seth, his strides long and determined. His hair had come loose from its tie, and it streamed around his face as he moved like he was a warrior moving into battle.

"Ethan," I said, but he threw me a silencing look. The look of a Master vampire whose irritation at me was matched only by his irritation at the party crasher in his House.

He grabbed Seth’s cassock by the shoulders and pushed him backward. Seth stumbled but stayed on his feet, and stared back at Ethan with equal intensity, but much less hatred.

"Are you looking for a fight, Tate? Because I wil show you a fight."

Oh, God. Ethan didn’t know this wasn’t Dominic – the man who’d tried to kil me – and he was ready for war.

"You would have kiled her, goddamn it. Do you understand that?"

Seth’s eyes went wide, and his gaze snapped to me. "Merit?"

"I’m fine," I said, eyes shifting between him and Ethan.

"Ethan, this is Seth. Not Dominic."

"Merit can tel the difference between them," Lindsey said.

But neither Ethan nor Seth was wiling to listen; they were both too wrapped up in their own emotions. Ethan thought the man who’d tried to kil me was here again. Seth, who’d known me since I was a child, had only just learned his twin brother had tried to kil me.

"This wil not stand," Ethan said.

"He hurt you?" Seth asked.

"Dominic decided I’d interrupted his work. He put me in the sun. But I’m fine now."

Seth looked horrified but turned back to Ethan. "I am sorry," he said, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice. "I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known."