Ashmedai rumbled out a low, unhappy growl. “No. He had a bright soul. He was not bound for Hell.”
Nicolas barked out a raspy laugh. “I don’t know whether to be happy about that or not now.”
Ashmedai tugged him closer. “Agreed. I could have seen him again if he’d gone there. He’s out of my reach, though.”
Talon asked, “But the future you saw was recent?”
Ira nodded. “Yes. There are things that should have happened with him here. I don’t know what that means. If this has changed, how much more will change? Will all of the things I saw where he was present be different now? Will his death change the outcome of every moment he was going to be involved in?”
“I suppose we won’t know until we reach those moments,” Talon said. “Or if you have a vision that implies things are changing.”
Nicolas could barely wrap his head around it all. “What would it mean, if things were changing? Could the future havebeenpredestined… but now it’s not?”
“I, for one, would be happy if the future was less predetermined,” Shadrach declared, casting Isaac a fond look. “While I do appreciate that it led me to Isaac, I don’t like the idea that all my actions over my long life were already destined to lead me in one direction. The unpredictability of possibility is what makes life worth living.”
“I don’t know what it would mean,” Ira answered. “It’s unprecedented. I’m flying as blind as the rest of you right now. I don’t know if any of my old visions are still accurate, and Iwon’tknow until, like Talon said, we reach those points in time.”
“Then we just keep doing what we’ve been doing,” Nathan said. “Watch each other’s backs and wait for a sign.”
“And declare war on the paladins,” Talon added.
Nathan sighed gustily.
“We’ve got the kids back. It’s time I sent that official warning.” His body was relaxed, one arm thrown around the back of the sofa behind Alex’s shoulders, but his black eyes held a dark, hungry gleam.
“This might be unwise, given how uncertain things are right now,” Nathan suggested.
“No, we should do it,” Nicolas said, and everyone stopped to look at him. “They’re only going to get worse if we don’t take a stand. They kidnapped minors to blackmail you into doing what they wanted. They whip their own people in the courtyard for any little infraction. Somebody has to stop them. We’re the only ones who can.” He met Talon’s eyes. “So send the message. Let the good ones abandon ship, and then we’ll sink any who remain.”
Talon inclined his head. “Good man.”
Talon didn’t sendthe message that night, which was a more respectful deference for Daniel’s death and Nicolas’s feelings than he’d expected from the prickly leviathan. Instead, they made a plan to meet the next day at Talon and Alex’s temporary apartment above In Extremis, right above Ashmedai’s. It seemed only right that they should all be together when they sent the message.
“Okay,” Talon said when the last of them, Julian and Valac, arrived. He laid a piece of notebook paper on the kitchen island and looked around the room. “This is what I’m going to send.”
Nathan stretched a hand toward it. “May I?”
Talon handed it over with a lopsided smile, andNathan read silently. Nicolas studied his face, tracking the way his brows rose and his lips pursed.
“What’s it say?” Luke asked.
Nathan read, “To the Paladin Guild of Los Angeles, this is the demon, Talon. Your commander has left us no choice. From this moment forth, every member who stands with Commander Sloan will receive no mercy. Any who wish to avoid bloodshed should turn in their rings and leave the guild. Those who do so will be no enemy of ours. The Sentinels will help any who need it. We are Commander Sloan’s enemy, but we don’t have to be yours. Leave the corruption of the guild and Sloan’s leadership behind, or prepare for war. The choice is yours.”
“Ooh,” Malachi murmured giddily. “Very dramatic.”
“Yes, well, wearedeclaring war,” Talon said. “It needs an appropriate amount of gravitas.”
“It sounds fine to me,” Julian said.
“Me, too,” Nicolas agreed.
One by one, they all agreed—some more reluctantly than others—and then waited in silence while Talon typed in all the phone numbers, copied the message, and hit send.
When it was over, he set his phone down on the marble island, the moment weighted by what they’d just done.
“I’ve never been to war before,” Storm finally said.
“Skirmishes,” Shadrach said thoughtfully, “never a war.”
