Of course. Jett shook off the memories of that vile underground prison and stepped inside a cavernous, empty space with stone walls and floor. Apparently, the archangels didn’t use the ground level at all. Lark led him up a flight of stairs to a large landing and a second reinforced door. The Guardian entered more codes and the locks released. This time, Lark stepped through first.
Jett followed and entered a large, furnished space filled with sunlight from the wraparound windows. He kept his sunglasses on. When was the last time he’d been in anything that resembled a normal home? Pictures on the wall, blankets tossed over cushy furniture, books, potted plants, the scent of coffee. Never. He’d never experienced such a place outside of the few magazines he’d flipped through over the years.
“Hello, Jett.”
The quiet voice hit him with physical force. He turned and faced Raphael for the first time since the prison. The archangel’s white wings framed his body and brushed the floor. Other than that most distinctive feature, Jett barely recognized Raphael as the prisoner he’d guarded. When Jett arrived there six years ago, Raphael had long since taken to starving himself and was more wraith than man. The creature who stood in this room had muscle on his bones, thick feathers, and a little color to his skin. His silver eyes, no longer sunken, held curiosity.
The archangel took a step closer and held out his hand. “Welcome to my home.”
“Raphael.” After a brief hesitation, Jett stiffly took the offered hand. He’d deliberately kept his distance from the archangel all this time, hoping his preoccupation with protecting him would fade. No such luck. Jett scanned the room, his muscles tense and ready to deal with a threat.
At least Raphael stepped back and got right to the business at hand. “You’re here about the human who put forth a fortune for my grandchildren?”
As Jett explained his history with Lawrence and the details of Bryce’s kidnapping, Raphael settled on a tall, backless chair and partially extended his wings. Lark stood against the wall, arms folded, head down, brow furrowed. Jett paced as he spoke.
“Scientific experimentation,” Raphael said. “This is why he wants the twins alive?”
“Most likely. Regardless of his exact motives, I’m certain he is the one behind this.”
Raphael’s gaze shifted past Jett and his eyebrows lifted.
Jett turned to see Wren on the flight deck, folding his wings, an infant in his arms. Wren paused, his narrowed gaze on Jett. Lark went over and pulled the French doors open. After a muttered exchange, Wren came inside.
“Son, you really should try to sleep,” Raphael said. “You did too much today.”
“Ginger finally nodded off, but Phoenix is fussing. I didn’t want Gin to wake.” Wren stopped near Jett, fatigue evident in his eyes but not in his posture. “Hello.”
So this was the son Raphael had been willing to die for. Prior to meeting Raphael, Jett hadn’t known a parent who gave a shit about his children. The archangel’s willingness to die to prevent his son from being imprisoned or killed had been an eye-opening act for Jett, and the moment he first considered freeing the archangel.
Jett had seen Wren in flight many times, but this was the closest he’d ever been. The resemblance was striking, but his green-blue eyes were so much more…human than his father’s unearthly silver. “Hello, Wren.”
Jett couldn’t help but stare at the miniature archangel in Wren’s arms. From his distant vantage point in the woods, he’d never seen either of the twins. The child—a girl, judging by the little pink hat—gripped the edge of her down-covered wing with her tiny hands and stared back.
Raphael introduced them formally and explained Jett’s purpose. Wren nodded but didn’t offer his hand, using both to clutch the infant to his chest. “Jett, I’ve never had the chance to thank you for helping my father.”
“You don’t have anything to thank me for. I almost got him killed.”
“You made a decision based on the information you had. But it’s the years of kindness you gave him leading up to that day that I want to thank you for. It’s a miracle he left that hole in the ground with his sanity intact. So, thank you.”
Jett cleared his throat. “I know what it’s like to be locked up that long and how much of a difference a little conversation can make,” he said, awkward as hell. “But what kept Raphael together was you, knowing that you had a life outside of that place. He talked about you constantly. It was annoying.”
Raphael chuckled, but the moment of light humor didn’t last. He gazed at the floor.
Wren ran a hand down the child’s wings. “Being hunted is a part of our lives. I’ve long since accepted that for myself.” He glanced at Raphael. “But staring it down from the perspective of a parent…” His voice dripped acid. “Phoenix and Talon have done nothing to deserve all the hate and greed directed at them.” The infant reached out and grasped his thumb with her tiny hand. “It’s unforgivably cruel.”
“I’ll find Lawrence. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” The fury in Wren’s gaze contrasted with his tender hold on his daughter. She curled up in the crook of his arm and covered her face with her down-covered wing. “I’d go out there myself to rip the son of a bitch out of his hole, but I need to stay with my family.”
“Yes. Making an easier target of yourself wouldn’t help anything.” Jett turned to Lark. “What intel do you have? Lawrence’s men left no trail after Bryce’s kidnapping.”
“The cell tower has been hooked up to emergency power, and the tails I put on the fleeing mercenaries have reported in,” Lark said. “They have no information as of yet. The humans are cooling their heels in a motel in a nearby town.”
“They probably know they’re being tailed, or at least expect it.”
“I’m sure. They’re not amateurs.”
Jett cocked his head, considering all he’d found out about Lark in recent months. Lark possessed a psychic talent, rare among demons. “You have the ability to travel outside your body as a spirit.”
Lark’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah.”
“You could sit in their laps and they wouldn’t know. The quickest way to find Lawrence may be for you—”
“Absolutely not.” Lark paced. “If I tailed the humans, I wouldn’t be here. I will not and cannot leave this family unprotected for that long, even in an offensive maneuver against an enemy.”
Silence lengthened. Jett’s gaze drifted from Raphael, to Wren, and settled on the newborn. He shook his head. “Letting Lawrence escape is not acceptable.”
“Of course not,” Lark said, his voice quiet. “But for now, we have to wait. Hopefully, the Guardians tracking the humans will turn up some useful information.”
“I’m not waiting. Where I can find them?”
Lark paused. “I’m not comfortable with a hothead getting involved with my only lead. If these men get more spooked than they already are, we could lose our chance to confront Lawrence before he attacks Sanctuary again.”
“I’d be a hothead if I simply wanted revenge on the asshole.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes.” Jett hissed the word through his fangs. “But more than that, I don’t want another child to grow up in the same hell I did. I won’t allow it. I need to be involved because I know more about Lawrence and his habits than your men do, but I will work with them, not against them. Now, are you going to tell me where to look, or shall I search every town in northern Vermont and lose more precious time?”
One side of Lark’s mouth curved upward. “Right answer. Your knowledge of Lawrence is invaluable. I’ll text and tell them to expect you. They’ll contact you with a location to meet them. Did Vin give you a phone?”