Company of Angels 02 - The Demoness of Waking Dreams

quick enough. Not deadly enough. Just…not enough.
    She bent her head to the table, touched her forehead to the old wood. Closed her eyes for a moment. And the regrets began to flow, pouring out like a torrent that threatened to wash her away. If only I had more time…if only Corbin hadn’t taken that damned vial of poison…if only I had never run into Brandon in the Redentore Church…if only Julian Ascher hadn’t walked into my life at that moment over two centuries ago, near the Rialto Bridge…if only…
    The noise behind her made her start.
    “Apologies, baronessa, ” Massimo said, bowing slightly.
    She frowned. She was going insane; it felt like she had spent years in this workroom, trying to create a poison that would kill an angel as powerful as the one she could practically feel breathing from only a few hundred yards away.
    “Wait, Massimo, I need your assistance.”
    “Yes, baronessa. It would be my pleasure.”
    “Go catch one of the goblins. I need to test this formula.”
    He was back shortly. She administered the shot. The goblin lay down, frothing at its ugly little mouth. But in the next instant, the creature popped back up again, choking a bit. A white froth smudged the edges of its mouth, but it was still breathing. It stood up, cackling to itself before it hopped off the table and scurried under a workbench.
    The poison had failed to kill it.
    Luciana put her head down on the worktable, closing her eyes for a moment. If only…
    “What has gone wrong with it, baronessa? ” Massimo said, stopping her thoughts. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it.”
    Opening her eyes, she sighed. “Most likely, the blood from Violetta’s death wasn’t strong enough. She died very quietly, which isn’t the usual way I collect blood. It’s possible that goblin might die within the next few days. But if it does, it will probably have a very gentle passing. However, that’s only a guess. What’s gone wrong with the poison is not entirely clear.”
    What had gone wrong with herself was infinitely more troubling.
    She knew exactly what was wrong with her.
    It was tall, dark and American.
    Luciana could feel him. Closer and stronger than she had ever felt him before.
    Where are you? she wondered.
    “In any case, Massimo, we must work to find a solution. Either we must find another victim, or bolster the formula with another ingredient. Either way, we must work quickly. There is no time to squander.”
    Massimo went to peer through a crack in the shutters. When he turned back to her, his face was ashen.
    “What is it?” she demanded, and went to look for herself.
    Across the water, the abandoned palazzo was no longer abandoned.
    Luciana saw the light coming from within, noted the figures moving in the darkness.
    Massimo said, “He is no longer alone.”
    * * *
     
    Don’t fall asleep, Brandon told himself repeatedly. Sitting in his observation point at the window, staring at the closed palace across the canal, Ca’ Rossetti seemed like a mausoleum. Do not sleep. Not now.
    Not simply because of the dreams themselves.
    But because now, an entire unit of angels was here to witness them. Including Arielle.
    “You must sleep,” Infusino coaxed, shaking his head as he watched Brandon fight to stay awake. “Your physical body is completely exhausted.”
    Brandon closed his eyes and leaned his head against the windowsill. Just for an instant.
    “Don’t let me do anything, go anywhere…” he muttered, feeling Infusino’s shoulder supporting him, guiding him to a cot the Venetian unit had set up in one corner of the big, dusty room. “If I start talking in my sleep, wake me up.”
    He lay down on the cot, his gaze focused on the ceiling high above, on the peeling remnants of painted angels who seemed to laugh down at him.
    Around him, a haze began to gather as he drifted…
    Not into the usual scene of his recurring nightmare. Only a blackness, shrouded in fog.
    He dug in his pocket, touched his watch.
    I’m dreaming.
    Out of the mist, she came sliding into concrete form, faster than she ever had before. Like a bolt of lightning streaking down from the sky, she landed on solid ground, striking the earth ten feet away from him. Striding toward him with a storm flying around her, she was all long legs, flying hair and snapping green eyes.
    “ You . Where the hell are my Gatekeepers? I want them back,” she demanded, marching forward to grab him by the front of his shirt. She held it in her