“That’s what I thought,” said Charmeine with quiet satisfaction. She traced her finger along the door jamb, watching its movement musingly. “They’re overconfident, you know. You really did delve me completely, but they only think they have. It hasn’t even crossed their mind that the oh-so-sacred family energy might not be enough of a connection for them to get everything. And meanwhile, I’ve picked up a few things myself.”

Raziel studied her. “Such as?”

“Such as, I don’t think it’s ever seriously occurred to them that someone might want to take them out.” Her eyes met his; she smiled. “They’re a little concerned about the security risk here from non-devout humans, that’s all – at home, we’ve been hearing stories about Angel Killers, and now there’s been that episode with the half-angel and the gate. But other angels wanting to destroy them, given the possible consequences to us all? No, never. They’d never even suspect it.” She shrugged. “Still, the way I see it, this is a fresh new world, and we need a fresh new start. And we can never have that as long as the Council is around.”

Raziel had been thinking the same thing. To hear it put into words, and to feel the passion behind them psychically, gave him a stirring of dark excitement that was like a rich red wine.

If the First Formed died, all angels would die: it had been drummed into them since the beginning of time. And much as Raziel hated to concede it, in their home world this was almost certainly true. But things were different here – the ether in this world was thinner; it was why angels had to feed from humans instead of the ether itself. The truth was that no one really knew what would happen if the Twelve were killed here, rather than at home.

The dominant view was that the exact same result would occur: without the First-Formed’s energy, all angels would die. Yet there were other possibilities too. The most enticing of them was that if the Council were killed here, then only the Council would die. Hardly anyone believed this – seeing the Council as indispensable to their existence was second nature to most angels – but Raziel had by now spent so much time in this world that it seemed a real possibility to him. Angels were still linked here, but not as strongly as back home; the thin ether made their bond weaker too. If the assassination of the rogues had happened in their own world, he knew he’d still be reeling from the pain of it; not here. As far as he could tell, the Council’s deaths shouldn’t necessarily mean the deaths of them all.