Tied With a Bow

canvas.”
     
     
    Nathaniel’s memories flooded his mind in torrents of bright visions that were hard to sort. He stood straight as Merrick’s tailor popped platinum cuff links into the shirt he wore, but Nathaniel was only half paying attention. His mind was full of the first time he’d seen Kate. He’d been looking for his ring, and he’d found it on the hand of a pretty girl. She’d been lying on a bench, the sunlight streaming over her as she highlighted the book she read. She’d muttered something and laughed, putting a yellow X over a passage. In that moment, he felt something tug his soul. A memory of himself using a dagger to cut a slash across Nero’s face on the coin. Defiance. Yes, he understood that. The girl’s animated expression, the life shining on her face—they drew him to her. He’d wanted to approach her, to hear her voice, to whisper to her soul. But he hadn’t spoken to her. Not that day or any other that he could remember. Why hadn’t he? He could feel how much he’d wanted to. Unleashed now, the desire roared through him. More than anything, he wanted Kate.
    This drive to be with her is significant. By instinct, I’m more drawn to her than to anything else. There must be a reason.
    “You like it?” the tailor asked, nodding at Nathaniel’s reflection in the mirror.
    “It’s formal. I don’t believe I normally dress this way.”
    “If you don’t want to get bounced, you need the right camouflage,” Merrick said, slipping money to the tailor who nodded and left.
    “It’s generous of you to help with this,” Nathaniel said.
    “One hand washing the other. Here’s your invitation.”
    “It’s forged?”
    “It is, but it’s a very good forgery, right down to the bar code and the invisible stamp.”
    “If you can create an invitation of this quality, why can’t you deliver your gift in person?”
    Merrick grinned. “I’m infamous. If there’s an ES officer who doesn’t recognize me on sight, he needs to be fired.”
    “Ah.”
    Merrick handed him a wrapped package.
    “If there’s no note, and I’m not allowed to tell anyone—even her—who sent this, how will she know it’s from you?”
    Instead of answering, Merrick handed Nathaniel the card key for the hotel suite they currently occupied. “I’ll be here until eleven. After that, the room’s yours.”
    Nathaniel nodded, understanding that by their arrangement Merrick was willing to answer questions that had to do with Nathaniel but not about himself.
    “I still can’t remember how I was called to become an archangel,” Nathaniel said. “Shouldn’t that have come back by now?”
    “Seems like it,” Merrick said.
    “It’s like seeing a picture where part of the image has been blacked out. And it’s right in the center of the frame. I can’t ignore what’s missing, but no matter how long I stare at that spot, I can’t restore what’s gone. The image is stubbornly marred.”
    “And you don’t remember the demons you’ve killed?”
    “I remember some battles but not all of them.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I feel it. I have an enemy. I don’t know his name or his face, but there’s an anger that burns through me.” Nathaniel clamped his fist closed. “Rage isn’t born of nothing.”
    “No,” Merrick agreed.
    Nathaniel let his fist relax, staring at his hand where the ring should have been. He needed to retrieve it.
    A warning slithered through him, a feeling that duty and desire were converging. From the stillness, he felt the kiss of darkness. Of pain.
    Danger has risen. He comes to destroy.
    Nathaniel stiffened.
    Kate wears your ring, and you left her unprotected.
    Adrenaline poured into his veins. “I have to leave now,” he said, striding to the door. He yanked it open as his instincts suddenly drove him in a single direction. Toward the party. Toward Kate.

Chapter Six
     
    The city blocks that hugged the Etherlin’s outer wall were called the Sliver, and the area courted Etherlin society. The Sliver couldn’t legally ban ventala from driving down its streets, but it did its best to make them unwelcome.
    In honor of the muses holding their holiday party within, the Sliver’s opulent boutique hotel, Clarity, was strung with lavender and white lights and huge silver bows and wreaths. A deep purple carpet stretched from the front doors to the curb where white limousines delivered tuxedo-clad men escorting women adorned with jewels to rival a queen’s.
    Waiters in white