Lilith's Amulet

by Elizabeth Blake

  “Me, neither.”

  This time she erupted in laughter, though it felt like hysteria. Shaking her head, she said, “I mean, they really don’t like me.”

  He stared dumbly.

  Can he really not see it? Or is he playing stupid?

  Lilith rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “Did you feel anything when we were in the garden?”

  His brow wrinkled. “Rage.”

  “I mean, did you feel the presence of anything else? Another entity?”

  He considered, then shook his head. “Only us.”

  “An angel was coming.”

  His eyes lit up an instant before his expression crumbled. He growled, “I don’t believe you.”

  She sighed and threw herself onto her back. The serpent raised his head to investigate her mood. She patted his temple and mumbled, “First he doesn’t believe me about dragons. Then he doesn’t believe me about the angel.”

  “Are you surprised?” Haniel said, “You’re an abomination of nature.”

  “And if heaven’s assassins catch me, I won’t be able to help you find Maggie. Honestly, the angels will probably kill you, too.”

  He folded his arms. “I’ve been on this mundane planet for decades, and I haven’t spotted a single flicker of God’s messengers.”

  “Maybe you weren’t worth the trouble,” she snipped.

  He bared his teeth.

  She touched the amulet around her neck. If heaven ever discovered what she had and what she intended to do with Haniel, they’d send more than one angel. They’d send armies. They might even destroy the planet to stop her. She wouldn’t put it past the prestigious fanatics.

  They had, after all, let Yeshua be tortured to death simply because he used a smidgen of dark magic. If her creator—despite all his miracles and good intentions—was expendable, Lilith didn’t stand a chance.

  Haniel promised, “I’ll help you, if you help me.”

  It was the same bargain they made hours earlier, before they tried to kill each other. This time, they both knew more about what was at stake.

  “We can’t fight with each other,” she insisted. “We have to keep our eyes out for angels and clues. Otherwise we won’t live long enough to find your…lost maiden.”

  She almost said ‘dead’ maiden, but caught herself in time. She’d pretend the girl was salvageable for as long as she needed to find the missing piece of the puzzle. At the same time, she shuddered with the idea of coming across a humbaba.

  Chapter 10

  Haniel scowled as he limped alongside Lilith.

  She’d claimed an angel was on their trail, but it didn’t make sense.

  Why now? What did heaven want?

  By all rights, his brothers should have come for him years ago. His fall was incomplete: he’d been kicked out of heaven, but he’d retained something of his Grace. He couldn’t ascend, but he hadn’t landed in the burning pit, either.

  When he’d first seen his legion, he’d assumed the vermin had come to drag him to hell. No such luck. They followed him everywhere, but they’d never done him harm.

  Haniel looked down at the minion by his side.

  The imp with two smiling mouths stared back at him with a mixture of eagerness and expectancy, like a dog waiting at the door for a walk.

  What did Haniel have to be worried about? Gehenna had no hold on him, neither did Shamayim, and he commanded a legion.

  “We have to go back,” Haniel said. “The angel probably left when it found the orchard empty. We need to find more tracks and follow the dragon—the humbaba.”

  Lilith shook her head. “Daylight is coming.”

  He glanced at the horizon. The black sky had lightened to a soft gray, but it would be an hour before the sun rose. Even then, it would be a cloudy day.

  When he was still ethereal, before he was tortured out of faith, he’d met an old vampire who walked in sunlight. Maybe daylight was uncomfortable for her kind, but he’d wager Lilith could endure it.

  She can create goddamn snakes out of inanimate objects, for heaven’s sake. She must be stalling.

  But why?

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and considered the puzzle.

  Very few things lured angels from heaven anymore. They were too busy protecting God’s plan, a vast machination which rumbled with enough cogs, sprockets, and moving pieces to rattle even heaven’s most capable minds. Elohim’s design was as mysterious as it was unstoppable. The list of tasks to be completed was unending: announcing virgin births, collecting devil tears, patrolling heaven’s borders, guarding, watching, singing, and providing a nudge here and there, whispering, tempting, edifying. Witnessing a martyr’s death.

  Haniel shook his head, cast off the sting of old hurts, and focused on his new mission. “Lilith, we must examine the tracks while they’re fresh.”

  “Look, I’m exhausted,” the vampire whined. “I haven’t had enough blood. I spent every ounce of energy I had investigating Maggie and fleeing the orchard. I need a break. We’ll try again later, after nightfall, when the angel is long gone. Until then, we need a place to hide.”

  “Hide,” he echoed.

  “Yes, and don’t give me that look. I haven’t survived for so long by behaving like a hot-headed fool. And since you haven’t been earth-bound long enough to respect how tenuous and impermanent life is, do yourself a favor. Take my advice. We should find a place to rest. Preferably a place where I can have a hot bath and new clothes.” Her eyes swooped from his temple to his toes and back again. “Don’t you want a bath? A proper bed? A gallon of wine?”

  I do, yes. All of the above.

  “Perhaps you haven’t noticed,” he said, “but half of Boston has burned to the ground. Not much survived the winter. The only well-fed creatures in this city are the werewolves. Where will you find warm water and wine?”

  She nibbled her lower lip. “I know a place.”

  “Another vampire house? No, thanks.”

  “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I’ll protect you.”

  He laughed. “I’m not afraid. I’m disgusted. Your entire species is revolting and evil.”

  “As is yours.”

  “Angels are—” He broke off, remembering he wasn’t an angel.

  She raised an eyebrow and sneered. “Not so high and mighty, hmm?”

  He scowled. “I’m certainly keeping less reputable company these days.”

  She pushed herself off the ground and climbed to her feet, swaying before she caught her balance. Her chest wobbled with irregular breaths. Maybe the excitement truly had sapped her strength. It was an opportune time to take advantage of her weakness, but he still wanted her help to find Maggie.

  He asked, “How far away is this sanctuary of yours?”

  She surveyed the shape of Boston’s skyline. “We can reach our destination in three hours if we hurry.”

  He knew neither of them were in any shape to hurry.

  “Why can’t you summon a snake for us to ride?” he said, half in jest.

  “Why don’t you harness a herd of demons to carry us?” She snipped. Then she rubbed her hands together, telegraphing anxiety. “The angel would be able to feel my magic. This isn’t the time to draw attention to ourselves.”

  “In that case, how do you plan on sneaking me and mine into a vampire house without starting some drama?” He cringed. “Being in the company of one vampire is bad enough. The thought of meeting more of you—”

  She stabbed him with a glare. “I can’t imagine what Maggie saw in you. Did she know what you are?”

  His heart swelled as he remembered.

  Not only had Maggie known what he was, but she could see his legion. She was the first mortal to ever do so, and she hadn’t screamed or run from him. She’d been brave, kind, and magical in her own right…

  If he didn’t act quickly, he’d never see her again, alive or dead.

  Lilith watched his face. He said nothing, but she must have gleaned the t
ruth from his expression.

  Her snarl softened. “Best keep your mouth shut,” she said. “We’re both too distressed to be civil. Can you walk?”

  “Somewhat.”

  His leg hurt so badly he would have begged her to steal another car, but the road was empty.

  Lilith didn’t look much better off. With her slow, staggered steps and slight frame, she resembled a runway model rolled through a sewer.

  Their pilgrimage crawled through the last dinge of a wretched night. Haniel’s stomach growled, and his muscles were as weak as water. His gnawing hunger reminded him of the only meal he’d ever shared with Maggie. It was his first time eating anything at all.

  Oysters.

  Like the sea, salty and briny, a bludgeoning of flavor.

  Lord, he missed her. True, he’d only known her a couple of days, but she’d changed everything. She was everything; he knew it with the same confidence and faith he’d once bestowed upon heaven.

  Yet he’d failed her, too, just as he’d failed God.

  He’d promised to protect her, the beautiful, frail, courageous thing. He hadn’t expected her to go and do something so rash, didn’t think she’d find a mortality potion in time to be stolen by a dragon—an extremely rare type of an extremely rare creature—and didn’t realize he’d have to team up with a vampire to rescue her.

  His increasingly brittle body refused to cooperate. In his peak heavenly form, he could strike mountains in two. Well, small mountains. But that was considerably more impressive than the teetering, weary, busted-knee body he sported now. Embarrassment scorched his heart.

  Would Maggie even want him anymore? Now that he was weak and sinfully human?

  It didn’t matter. He’d save her anyway.

  If it was the last thing he did.

  Which is starting to look like a genuine possibility.

  A wet, bone-sopping chill made him so miserable he couldn’t move without pain.

  Worse was the hunger in his stomach, heart, and spirit.

  He and the vampire stumbled along a cramped row of dilapidated bars and shops, all devastated or razed from a season-long, citywide catastrophe. Modern humans apparently hadn’t retained the skills necessary to survive outside their convenient way of living. A way that had made them more dependent on a system of infrastructure. When that system failed, they were as helpless as pastured livestock.

  Haniel wanted to weep and laugh. Laugh because the revival of vampires, werewolves, and God wrought such havoc on the world. But he couldn’t regret humanity’s downfall, because if not for this disaster, he wouldn’t have met Maggie.

  The same apocalypse that brought them together had torn them apart, and now she’d been taken by a goddamn dragon. And not just any dragon! Not a fat, complacent, hibernating dragon, but something so badass that it made the snake witch quiver in fear.

  Lilith’s pace slowed steadily until she scarcely put one foot in front of the other, and he still had trouble keeping up. Dawn peeked at the horizon, filling the world with shades of pink and orange. Her shoulder dragged along a brick wall as she braced herself up. Her eyes squeezed into slits, and her brow furrowed.

  “We need to keep going,” he said, even though his body shook with exhaustion and his knee was about to commit suicide.

  She nodded, but her serpents hissed at him. Even his imps were tired. They heeled instead of frolicking and scampering mischievously through the area.

  They had surprised him with their fervent defense of his wellbeing. Not only had they risked life and limb to ensure his safety, but they fought monster-sized snakes and ate physical food.

  Feeding demons was a bad idea. He didn’t have to be a fallen angel to know it.

  If the consumption of six mere pomegranate seeds trapped Persephone to the land of the dead, how much more would a legion of spawn be drawn to a plane where they consumed meat? The blood, flesh, and bones of Lilith’s snakes affected the demons in a grisly, shocking way.

  And they’d tasted human flesh.

  I should be horrified, he thought, but curiosity didn’t allow him to dwell on it.

  His mortality, which had been circling him for years, seemed to pounce the second he’d consumed human food. Since his first meal with Maggie, he’d grown weaker. Enfeebled. But in the orchard, things had changed. He’d felt robust. Strong. Revitalized.

  An angel came near, and suddenly, I felt like my old self again.

  He wondered which of his heavenly brothers had chased them in the orchard, why his strength had been temporarily restored, why it hadn’t lasted—

  “Let’s rest here,” Lilith murmured.

  They’d stopped beside an old barber shop. The windows had been boarded, but those boards had been broken. Haniel didn’t get his hopes up about finding food or useful goods inside.

  Unless he wanted a shave.

  He rubbed his chin. The whiskers had crossed from overgrown shadow into beard territory. Did Maggie like beards? He didn’t know. Maybe he should shave.

  He snorted at his vanity.

  The prince in shining armor wants to look good when he rescues his damsel.

  Haniel shook his head. None of that mattered.

  Every moment they wasted was another moment Maggie spent in the company of a fearsome, possibly vengeful, dragon. Who might murder her and turn her into fertilizer.

  He shuddered.

  Merely shivering nearly knocked his fatigued ass off his feet. He was done. He needed a break.

  Damn mortality, anyway.

  He followed the snakes, vampire, and demons into the barber shop. He was the last one in. The paneling along an entire wall was torn off. Tall barber chairs were upended, sprawling on their side. Toiletries had been raided. Broken glass covered the floor. Trash spilled out of a ravaged supply room.

  The vampire found a small office with a busted door and said, “Mine,” in her arrogant, greedy way. He didn’t care; he’d be perfectly happy sleeping in the damned chair.

  Lilith rummaged through the linen closet and found a smock.

  Finally, Haniel thought, happy he wouldn’t have to worry about his eyeballs colliding with her tits, the peaks of which made habit of slipping from her ragged dress. Except when she put the smock on, it was halved like a hospital gown, and she wore it like a cape. Warmer for her, but it did nothing to protect him from the sight of her breasts.

  She scooped up a handful of folded smocks and retreated to the office. She shook out the fabric and shoved it all under the desk, then she curled up on the floor like a nesting rodent.

  An imp crept up to her nest and grabbed a smock for himself. The mischievous vermin darted around the parlor, leading snakes on a merry chase.

  Haniel pulled a chair upright and sat to take pressure off his legs. He didn’t want to collapse while the minions were too distracted to catch him.

  Devilspawn hoisted and flung a chair at a cluster of snakes. The heavy metal frame and plush cushion crashed down atop serpent heads. Tails thrashed.

  They’d deliberately killed some of Lilith’s snakes.

  The vamp reared her head, eyes dark like sin, and scanned the room. More of her serpents joined the ‘chase demons’ game, but the small, venomous ones curled around Lilith. Cocooning her. Protecting her from the legion.

  The vampire closed her eyes and settled in for rest.

  Good. Haniel needed a moment of peace and quiet.

  His stomach growled painfully.

  An imp bopped a snake over the head and brought the still-twitching meat over to Haniel, wispy hands holding up the offering.

  Haniel really didn’t want to eat it, but his hands arms were so weak he could scarcely lift them. His head rolled on his neck. His gut gurgled. Saliva filled his mouth even as he gnashed his teeth.

  He shouldn’t eat. Food would nail him to the ground, make him mortal. He needed his strength, but he couldn’t deny the truth. Heaven had abandoned him here. God had forsaken him. An angel had come down from heaven and walked the same gr
ound as Haniel, and still, the divine ignored him.

  He was on his own. Why shouldn’t he do whatever was necessary to save Maggie?

  The minion, Five-horn, merrily deskinned the snake with its claws, ripping the hide from the serpent’s body. The jerking, dancing tail sent thrashes of nausea through Haniel, but when the legion gave him the bald food, he ate it, piece by piece.

  He needed his strength.

  Especially if he was going to rescue Maggie and escape a vampire’s clutches.

  As he pushed the raw meat as far to the back of his tongue as possible, he had a feeling this wasn’t the worst thing he’d have to do to retrieve the love of his life.

  Chapter 11

  Pressure crowded her organs.

  Lilith ignored it as long as she could, but her heart ossified. Her ribs throbbed. Her lungs strained. When she couldn’t endure it anymore, she woke.

  It was dusk.

  Snakes draped over her body and legs, but they were all dead. Even asleep, Lilith had felt the pangs as they passed. She caressed them in vain. They’d all gone cold, stiff with rigor mortis, brittle like vines in a drought.

  Lilith didn’t like waking with the dead. The senseless tangle of their heavy, unmoving bodies reminded her too much of her resurrection.

  The worms sloughing off her corpse…

  She shuddered. Cradled by her beloved dead, she felt as if that grave from two thousand years ago would never let her go.

  Whenever she laid down to rest—which she did more often than most vampires her age because she didn’t nourish herself—a vast emptiness plagued her. She woke pensive and morose, and she didn’t like that either.

  She sat up and set the dead aside. Soon, she’d have to use the spark and make more. If she wasn’t careful, her magic would draw angelic attention, but the consequences of denying the Becoming were worse.

  Already, the pressure in her chest threatened to crack her ribs and spring free. It was aching and unavoidable, like a man’s morning stiffness, and the comparison made her laugh.

  She crawled out from under the desk, went to the office window, and peeked between the blinds. The street was empty, quiet, and shiny with ice. Lilith lifted her hand to the top of the window blinds and trailed her fingers down each slat—flit-flit-flit—and let them Become. Two dozen flat-bodied vine snakes draped onto the floor.