Page 45 of Death Deals

“Other fractions could be waiting just outside the boundaries, awaiting orders to attack,” her right-hand man went on, trying to convince her. “We must kill them all and move everyone from this location before we can be found.”

Something struck me about the last of his words. Sure, he wanted to kill us—that was to be expected—but he also wanted to flee if there was a confrontation. Not fight.

The Omaris were scared. Just like the rest of them.

“Believe me when I tell you, we are risking everything to be here. The means by which we got to this moment weren’t the cleanest, but we knew getting an audience with you wouldn’t be easy. You wouldn’t trust us.”

“And we still don’t,” the man hissed.

This guy was going to be a real pain in the ass.

I held up my hands. “Totally get it. We’re talking about hating each other for who knows how long. But that’s what we want to stop. Vampires are killing each other into extinction. You’re at the top of the food chain but you’re your own worst enemy.”

Everyone—even Dreadlocks—was quiet. They knew what I was saying was true, but would that matter in the end? If they didn’t want the same things Andre and the Perezes did, then an offer of peace could never be fully on the table. All families needed to agree.

As the tense silence continued to stretch on, I remembered the letter and its broken pieces. Andre and Hector had mentioned that the Omaris should have the part that’d been missing.

“There’s a letter,” I began, trying my best to recall the other details Andre had told me at Red and in the car. “The only remaining piece of your history that had survived the fires? You have a part of that letter, too. Don’t you?”

Imani’s face fell as if she didn’t expect me to know of such a thing.

“You don’t ask the queen questions,” Dreadlocks snapped.

I recoiled. “Sorry.” I had gotten my answer by her reaction, anyway. “It’s been discovered that each family was given a piece.”

“But no one can read the language,” Imani chimed in, fully invested in what I was saying now. “It’s foreign, even to me.”

“I can read it.”

Again, my words left the theater deathly still.

“It’s true,” Andre said suddenly. “She can.”

“She understood me when I spoke in my tribe’s native tongue,” Cornelius added from Imani’s other side, “which died out centuries ago.”

Andre carefully rose to his feet and stepped closer to me. “If you bring forward the piece of the letter you have, she’ll read it, and we’ll know our past once and for all.”

Looked like I wasn’t the only one obsessed with my past. I just didn’t understandwhy. What could this letter actually reveal? And how could it be strong enough to change the very core of their beliefs?

There were still chunks of this story missing.

Queen Imani stood and took two quick steps toward us but stopped herself before getting too close. She was tall to begin with, so she looked like a giant raised four feet higher on the stage. Hesitating, she glanced back at Cornelius before meeting my gaze again.

“What are you?” she asked me.

My pulse was off and running at the simple question. Cornelius must have told her how I’d used my light to break him free of the shackles. Or maybe it was thesmellof my blood, as they liked to say.

Either way, they knew I was different. But the question was, did I tell them the truth? Andre had urged me not to, but when I turned to him for guidance, he couldn’t offer me anything. He was just as uncertain.

You know what? Fuck it.

“I’m an Archangel.”

There. I’d said it. And for some reason, releasing those three words filled my chest with pride. Sure, I’d failed my Ascension. Sure, I’d lost my past lives and the knowledge having those memories brought, but I’d passed my Trials. I’d beat demons and angels and everything in between.

I was an Archangel, dammit. It was a title I’dearned, and I didn’t need a magical sword or a Guardian to tell me anything different.

A warm buzzing sensation began to grow in the center of my chest, spreading along my arms. I heard the vampires gasp, everyone stepping away from me or drawing weapons. Even Andre backpedaled, arms up to shield his face.

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