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She shot a covert glance at Amber, hoping she hadn’t felt Eva’s guilt.
But Amber’s gaze bored right through her. Dammit.
Raika tapped Amber on the shoulder. “Hey. What are you looking at?” She frowned and tapped harder. “Amber? Shit.”
“What’s going on?” Eva caught Amber’s pencil as it fell from her frozen fingers.
Dawn hurried around the table and sank down next to Amber. “She’s having a vision.”
Logan hadn’t mentioned that his sister had visions. “What does she usually see?”
“She doesn’t talk about them, and even if she did…” Raika shrugged. “Sorry, but there are things we don’t want getting back to The Aegis.”
Yeah, Eva got that, and the shame flooded back. Forget fame and fortune. What should she tell The Aegis aboutanyof this?
“How often does this happen?”
“I don’t know,” Dawn said. “This is only the second time I’ve seen it. It’s been years since the first time. She came out of it kind of confused.”
Amber gasped, her gaze still locked in place, but notonEva. Through her. “There’s trouble,” she whispered.
“Trouble?” Raika prompted. “From who? Lilith?”
Amber turned to her, and Eva wouldn’t have described her expression asconfused. No, that face was etched with fear.
“Amber.” Raika snapped her fingers in front of Amber’s face, getting her attention. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Heaven,” Amber croaked. “Bad things are happing in Heaven.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Reaver strode down the pristine halls of the Archangel Complex, wondering if he looked like everyone else moving toward the auditorium.
Confused.
Harvester squeezed his hand and gave him a tentative smile. “I know Archangel business is overly shrouded in secrecy, but an urgent call for ranking members of all angelic Orders is kind of strange.”
He nodded. “Especially just hours before the Council of Orders Summit.”
She squeezed his hand again. “I’m sure it’s fine. In any case, you will be seeing your family soon. I know it.”
Harvester was rarely optimistic, which meant she reallydidn’tknow it. She was as worried as he was that the Archangels would go back on their word to finally allow him to visit the human realm and his family. Six months was far too long, even if time moved differently in Heaven.
They entered the open-air, five-thousand-seat auditorium and filed toward the front.
On the stage, thirty-nine Archangels stood in matching golden robes, looking stern and serious. Only one was missing, but Reaver was certain that Metatron would appear at any moment. Sure enough, a few seconds later, he materialized on the stage, but instead of moving to the speaker’s position, he stood aside as Michael came forward.
“Fellow Celestials,” Michael began, “thank you for coming. We brought you here to discuss a threat to not only us but also the very Heavenly order.”
Murmurs rose from the thousands of people seated in the room. Once they died down, Michael continued.
“It has come to our attention that a small contingent of malcontents from other Orders have been undermining our rule, and worse, this group of dissenters may be plotting a coup to take away the Archangels’ rightful place as Heaven’s supreme leaders.”
Reaver sat forward in his seat. This was interesting. So was Michael’s choice of words. “Rightful place.” Other angelic Orders had taken turns ruling, but never for long, and certainly not for thousands of years. Archangels had been in charge almost constantly since the beginning of time, with only a few brief periods of power being wielded by others. But the other Orders’ reigns had been disastrous, and despite having some of the fewest members of all the Orders, the Archangels had always taken control again, most recently after the Sheoul-gra disaster. Archangels were the only Celestials to be named to their Order by God Himself, instead of being born into it, and thus were consideredblessed, orchosen, and given power simply because of who they were. They were the elite, the rock stars of the Celestial world, and the ones most humans knew of…which was all by the Archangels’ design.
They had a great marketing team.
At the front of the chamber, a male stood, his silver hair flowing around his shoulders. He could have chosen any color for his long mane, so the fact that he’d gone with silver said he wanted everyone to know how ancient he was. Or maybe how wise—or at least how wise hebelievedhe was.
