Page 83 of Dark Angel

He nods, leaving with Lewis and Matthew who carry Elodi’s body behind him.

“We should go with them.” Jordan says by her side.

“We will,” she agrees, taking his hand into hers, sparks shooting up her arm like bolts of lightning, “after we check the archives.”

29

Healing Hearts

The two of them burst in through the doors of the library. Kora is still holding onto Jordan’s hand as tight as she can. She can’t bring herself to let go of him for some reason, as if he’s her lifeline and keeping her from shattering into a thousand pieces.

The ten-foot walls are lined to the brim with books of all different tones and sizes. Kora adores the library of the Ascendancy; she’s found herself sitting in here on many occasions reading about the survival of Seraphim or how to escape the bites of Shifters. But now’s not the time to think about reading for pleasure.

Dragging Jordan over to the right side of the room, there’s a smaller wooden door amongst the towering shelves. He hadn’t noticed it when Matthew was generous enough to give him an in-depth tour of the Ascendancy one afternoon shortly after his arrival in London. A sign of cursive gold lettering spells outArchivesabove.

Kora pushes the wooden door open to reveal a smaller room. Wooden worktables are set up in the centre with brass-handled drawers stacked underneath each one. She starts opening drawer after drawer, sifting through the papers shoved inside in no particular order.

Jordan follows suit, looking through every few pages to see if there’s any containing the death notices of Seraphim.

Incomplete missions.

Infirmary admissions of the Night Guard.

Acceptance letters of the Night Guard.

Incompatible Herbs and Spells.

Kora’s eyes skim through each of the titles, shoving them back into their spot before moving onto the next one. There has to be at least forty drawers under each of the three tables situated in the archives room. Each containing different categories.

Jordan opens one, scrolling through until he finds the death notice of Abigail Ainsley. “I found one.” He announces loudly.

Kora slams her drawer shut and rushes over to him.

He shows her the notice. She takes it from his grip and double checks it’s what they’re looking for. “It must be in one of these drawers, then. Colton Hamilton.”

Jordan nods, opening up the next drawer and flicking through the names. Realising they are in alphabetical order; he goes over a few drawers until he finds the surnames starting with H.

He claws through the papers.

Names read at the top of each paper in bold black ink.

Doris Halsbury.

Richard Hamslot.

They appear one after the other.

Jordan doubles back, checking the names for a second time.

And then a third.

“He’s missing.” He breathes out.

Kora looks through the names herself. He hears her choking on an inhale. “No, no, no. That can’t be.” Her voice is barely audible.

“His name isn’t in here.” Jordan reiterates.

She looks at him with fear in her eyes, her skin paler than normal. “This has to be a mistake. He has to be in here. Perhaps he is in a different drawer? Or perhaps infants are listed somewhere else? He has to be in here.” Her voice is adamant.

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