Page 29 of Dark Angel

Grinning, it releases the knife from Clara’s side and positions the blade against her exposed skin, cutting away the gown’s material and beginning to carve deep into her flesh. Scarlet blood leisurely releases from the incisions.

It continues carving until her body is entirely covered in half circles etched deeply into her skin. Blood covers her pale body as Clara lies there lifelessly on the icy ground.

10

Women of Departed Souls

“Carvings?”

“Carvings.” Confirms Robert in a gruff tone.

They all look around at each other in confusion while sitting in Robert’s study at the Ascendancy.

Tobias sits back in his chair, trying to wrap his head around what Robert just told them.

“Who would kill a Seraphim and then carve symbols into their skin? That’s just unheard of.” Percy Chiswick breathes out, almost not believing the words escaping his mouth.

Robert gives him a small nod of the head, bringing the glass of burnt liquid up to his mouth. He was just as stunned as the rest of them when he found out the news earlier this morning from the Night Guard who stumbled upon the body. “Nobody was around to see it happen. There were no witnesses. The Night Guard believe it happened just before dawn. Everyone around Portman Square would have been asleep by then.”

“But why would anyone want to hurt Clara? She was such a lovely girl. She’s never done anything wrong,” Thomas Edevane reminisces, grief striking his darker features, “I can still remember her in the garden, her hair in double braids, playing with Daisy and Lily. I can’t believe this.”

Robert places his empty glass on the mantel of the fireplace and sighs loudly. “It is quite shocking.” He admits quietly to the other menin the room. He sucks in a breath before adding, “The carvings etched into her skin are in the shape of crescents.”

“Crescents?” Percy echoes, his head lifting with sudden intrigue, “as in crescent moons, perhaps?”

Robert lifts one shoulder in some sort of shrug.

“So, this might be the works of Shifters, then?” Will asks, “wolf Shifters could have done this for some bizarre moon ritual or festival?” Suggesting after they’re all silent for a minute.

“We’ve never seen anything like this before though,” Robert reminds Will, “if it were a ritual of Shifters, then it would have occurred at least one time before, or at least something similar.”

Percy nods, agreeing with Robert. “So, we are ruling out Shifters then? It could also be a brutal Infernal attack or some psychotic, malicious Elemental stirring up trouble.”

Robert corrects them again. “We are not ruling out any Marked kinds or Infernals. For all we know, it could have been the works of a deranged Mortal.”

“I doubt a Mortal would want to kill Clara just to carve etchings into her skin,” Thomas says with a disgusted tone.

“We don’t know, though. Until we do, no creature can be ruled out,” Robert pauses momentarily, “and that also includes the Seraphim.”

They all look at Robert, stunned. “You think a Seraph could have donethisto Clara?” Tobias’ voice is incredulous.

Robert shakes his head, turning to face all four of them sitting around his office. “I have no idea who could have done this. I doubt it would be one of our kind, but then again, we can’t discreditanyone. It has happened throughout history, a Seraphim rebelling and killing off others of its own kind, so that’s why we can’t rule anyone out.” He reminds them. “I have called the White Women to come and examine Clara’s body. They have the most experience when it comes to the dead, so perhaps they have something they can share with us.”

The White Women are immortal Spellcasters and Healers that all Marked kind’s fear. They come and collect supernatural bodies overtaken with severe illness or death. They’re seen as the keepers of the dead, the women of departed souls, and the most powerful Healers seen on Earth. Nobody’s aware of where their stronghold is. Only the White Women can access it through portals created their magic. It’s their way of protecting the ill and dead from everyone else.

Just the mere mention of these women makes Tobias shudder in his seat.

“I am happy to look as well, Robert,” Percy offers. “As the Ascendancy’s head physician, I can help inspect Clara’s body. There might be something else or a substance injected into her system.”

Robert nods to him. “Come then, before the White Women arrive and examine her. We have Clara’s body in the infirmary downstairs. Ida and Henry Lockewood have been in there all morning grieving.”

They all enter the infirmary, which is ridden with anguish and demise. A plain white cloth covers Clara’s body. Only her face and neck are exposed.

Her parents stand beside her. Ida Lockewood is holding onto the stiff hand of her daughter as she cries into the chest of her husband, Henry.

Tobias’ heart plummets down into his stomach like a heavy rock, making him feel nauseous.

Percy looks at Clara’s lifeless body lying on the cold metal surface. She was only nineteen. Her golden blonde hair neatly flowing around her face, shining in the overhead lighting. Her once wide stormy eyes, warm and inviting, are now shut. Pale lashes curl against the skin of her cheeks.

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