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“You’ll be fine, Reese,” I reassured her. “The people here won’t touch you.”
“This is true. I don’t think they know that angels can take lives, and I wouldn’t like to demonstrate something like that around the kids,” Neo said thoughtfully. “They’ll be good.”
He exited the car first, and gratitude filled me when he rounded the car to open the door for Reese. After he helped her out, the rest of us followed.
The sun had long since set. There was quite a lot of artificial lighting around, but the place was still incredible, even with the sunset. I was surprised that so many children were out playing at this hour.
A tiny old man waited for us at the massive double doors leading into the building. He was dressed in a kimono, hunched over at the shoulders, and was wearing wire-rimmed glasses, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Marilyn Ansen and Neo Griffith,” he said oh-so-quietly, but we could hear him clear as day. “The blood that protects these grounds runs through your body.”
Neo glanced at Marilyn, his brows furrowed. I felt much the same way.
“Come up here,” the man said. “Let me see you properly.”
We ascended the stairs as one, Neo’s hand guiding Reese, who didn’t hear the man. Up close, I could just make out the white film of a cataract over one of his eyes; the other was almost entirely black. I had no idea who I was looking at, so I kept my mouth shut.
“Director Kiyomasa,” Neo said reverently. “You’re still…”
“Alive?” The man laughed. “Yes, child. I’m afraid it takes more than an explosion to get rid of me. Come, we have much to discuss. And you must introduce me to your new friends. It is good to see you, Marilyn.”
“Likewise, Director,” she said with a bow.
I stilled when his eyes passed over me calculatingly. After this, he turned on his heel, and we all shuffled after him.
This building seemed like a community center; there was a huge reception area that doubled as a lounge area. As we followed the Director through it, I observed how people—even the elderly—stood and bowed as he passed. He was old enough to have known Marilyn and Neo when they were young, so he must have quite some seniority around here.
He took us into an office within an impressive library that reminded me vaguely of Dessi and her murderous book collection.
“Please, get comfortable,” he instructed. He snapped his fingers, and a tea tray suddenly appeared beside his desk. “Lino said you’re here for protection?”
Lino must have been the vampire we’d met at the gate.
“He was quite excited to meet a Heaven-appointed angel and the famed Marilyn Ansen of the Resistance, who’d since become a lap dog of the Upper Council.” The Director laughed. “He was even more surprised to see they were traveling with a half-fallen angel, a human, a mixed-blood wolf, and a purebred blessed-blood wolf, all in one car.”
The Director’s teapot rose slowly on its own. It hovered over his teacup before tilting and filling his cup expertly. “You must understand our confusion and caution,” he said as the teapot settled back on the tray. “There are rumors circulating about a group of escaped prisoners from an Isolation Center, as well as something about Azazel Ambrose’s offspring being estranged?”
“He—” Neo pointed to Sariel. “—is Azazel’s offspring. The rest of us are the escaped prisoners.”
I blinked at Neo.
Marilyn sighed through her nose. “The mixed wolf is Aria Gribald, the human is Reese Montgomery, the blessed-blood is Johnathan Hart, the half-fallen is Sariel Ambrose, and yes, we’re all on the run. We’re asking for a few days of refuge while we find somewhere else to go.”
The Director considered her words as he sipped his tea. “And what do we get in return?”
Marilyn’s eyes narrowed. “I thought the Resistance offered free protection to anyone in need?”
The Director shook his head. “That was before we were led by the current leader. Children and teenagers may be here free of charge, but adults must pay by being active or volunteering their skills in some way. Teaching, cooking, patrolling, training, sewing, farming—anything they can do, they’re encouraged to hone it. We’re self-sustained. We don’t have outside links like before, I’m afraid. No one but us can be trusted.”
I frowned. “What about cybersecurity?”
“The Head does that for us. We have access to the internet, but social media is heavily frowned upon. Anyone who gets initiated is happy enough to feel safe; they don’t care about access to socials, and after a while, you learn to accept what you have here. We have a small community here with everything we could ever need: a movie theater, a small clinic with state-of-the-art technology run by a doctor, a school, a gym, a mini-mall, a supermarket. We have it all. Even so, we could always have more help.”
“And money? Is that not a problem?” Johnny asked. He might as well have read the words right out of my head.
Director Kiyomasa shrugged. “Not really. The Head funds it all, and he seems to be a bottomless pit of money and resources.”
My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. Reese and I exchanged impressed glances.
