by BeamMeUpScotty
He gave the sports car one last pat before walking toward the wooden double-doors to the Divine Sanctuary. He expected some type of vandalism when he returned, and just hoped they didn’t remove the tires. He looked down at his watch as he walked confidently toward the door. He was five minutes late, but unlike his Prince, he didn’t expect the Dominion to rip his arm off and bash his skull in with it.
He easily pulled the heavy doors open and stepped into the sanctuary. The second he crossed the threshold a shiver went down his spine. It felt like he’d walked through a wall of cold water.
He hid his concern, and reminded himself that his human form was absolute. Unless he decided to change he was for all intents and purposes just another human. He purposefully wasn’t carrying a lot of æther to avoid detection. If he needed it, he could draw on it at a moment’s notice. Even then he wasn’t sure how much help it would do him.
His eyes were immediately drawn to the single figure in the room. She was sitting in the first row of pews, and it was impossible to miss her. She was wearing a simple white dress that was enhanced by the soft glow of power surrounding the woman. Her hair hung limply around her deceptively delicate shoulders. In her hands was a book. She was flipping slowly through the pages and took in every word. At the sound of his footsteps she bookmarked her spot, set the book down on the wooden seat, and turned to meet him. Her eyes met his and it seemed like she was reading him just as easily as she had been reading that book.
Her eyes held no judgement or even irritation for him being late. Even though they didn’t, he felt shame settle on his shoulders.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized, and he meant it.
“Don’t worry,” she smiled and it almost knocked him flat on his ass.
She had a beautiful smile that made little dimples out of her high cheekbones. It was hard to believe that she was the mortal enemy of his kind.
“Please have a seat.” She gestured toward another pew.
He accepted, and she took a seat on the pew in front of him. Gerry didn’t trust himself to speak, and was amazed at how at-ease she was with everything.
“You felt the warding when you entered.” It wasn’t as much a question as it was a statement. “It tells me that you have no ill will toward me.”
Gerry wasn’t sure about that, so it must be something localized within a time span. He certainly didn’t intend to try anything during this meeting.
“I will also know if you speak any lies to me. I don’t want this to be an interrogation, but you are new to the city, and some suspicious things have happened since your arrival. I’m not blaming you, or criticizing your line of work, but I need to get all of the facts straight.”
It didn’t surprise him that she would be able to tell if he was lying. “Another ward?” he asked for clarification.
She shook her head back and forth, “Experience.”
He nodded and gestured for her to ask away.
“What is your name?”
“Gerald Fuller, but a lot of people just call me Gerry.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gerry.” She extended her hand toward him. He didn’t sense any lie in her words, but just because she was pleased to meet him didn’t meant she wouldn’t try to rip his arm off.
He only hesitated for a moment, and he hoped she chalked it up to his nervousness. She was an angel after all. When their skin touched it was like lightening shot through him. He could feel her immense power. The æther swirling around inside of her was so clear and bright it made his eyes water.
“You can feel the æther?” It wasn’t a condemnation, just a question.
“I am a master of my discipline, Ms…”
“Just Ava is fine.” She smiled that award-winning smile again.
“Ava,” he returned her smile with one of her own. “As a master of my discipline we are more attuned to what you call æther than average magic wielders, but I have sensed nothing like you before.”
“It’s just my nature,” she answered before moving on. There were more important things she needed to cover. “How long have you been here?”
“A few weeks, maybe a month, my exact arrival is a bit foggy.” It was the truth. The way Seere had transported him to Eden was still unclear.
“Why did you pick Charlotte?”
“It was chosen for me, but I’m glad I’m here. There is something about this city…” he let himself trail off and smiled.
There was something special about Charlotte. There was an undertone to everything. The virtues that powered his Infernal nature were present here in force.
“Your family wanted you to come here?”
“Not my family per say, but a father figure. He wanted me in Charlotte, and judging by all the contracts I’ve received I know why.” He was toeing the line with his answer, but the angel didn’t attack, so it seemed he was telling enough of the truth to avid her suspicions.
All the best lies had kernels of truth in them. Too much deception would eventually trip an Infernal up just as easily as a human.
“I see you were fulfilling one of those contracts,” she read out the wrong date.
“I believe it was the day before when I was hunting the werewolves. Although it was late so it might have crossed over into that day, but yes I was doing a contract during that time period,” he clarified.
“So you did not kill The Dark Mage of Charlotte.”
“No I did not,” he answered with the confidence of an innocent man.
“Do you know who did?”
She’d walked him right into that one, and the slight hesitation caused one of her eyebrows to rise.
“I have my suspicions,” he quickly explained. “I also don’t have all the facts. I’ve only heard rumors that he was bitten, so that makes me suspicious of the wolves. I know there are more out there.”
Suspicion of the wolves was natural, and everyone had their suspicions about anything, so nothing was a lie. She still watched him closely, but pushed on.
“Did you know the Dark Mage?”
“I just saw him at the gathering we had here, but I never talked to him.”
“Did you hold anything against him?”
“I didn’t know him, so I didn’t have anything to hold against him. I’m not the biggest fan of necromantic magic, but who is?”
Having to fight the same warriors over and over again on the battlefields of Hell made his dislike for the reincarnation of the dead that much more true. He full understood his bias was hypocritical since he’d been revived dozens of times over the centuries, but he chose to ignore that part of the argument.
“Do you bear any ill will toward this city?”
“Toward this city? No. It’s a great city, but that can’t be said for everyone in it.”
“Elaborate please.” Her eyebrow was raised again. It was such a lovely eyebrow.
“I have my contracts, Ava. I review them and some of them are for me to end certain people in this city. Of course, I have discretion who I take action against, but in the end something is going to happen to someone and I have no idea if that is going cause ill will toward the city. Unless you can see the future, I don’t think anyone really knows.”
“Seers are very rare.” She mused, and nodded at the response. “Very well, Gerry. Thank you for coming to see me. I don’t often interact with the community in this city, but the death of a gifted child needs to be investigated.”
“Of course.” He made sure not to agree or disagree. “It was lovely meeting you. I hope if we meet again it is on friendly circumstances.”
The truth in his own words surprised him. She was an angel, an agent of the Divine, but she was also a beautiful woman who’d been around for God only knew how long. The things she’d seen and experienced, not to mention her expertise in combat, would be something Gerry would very much enjoy speaking with her about.
More than likely the
ir next meeting would not be so civilized, and equally as likely only one of them would be walking away from it.
Gerry gave her a slight bow – because that was what felt right – before turning his back and leaving. He tried not to sweat as his exposed spine was ripe for the slicing, but someone with nothing to hide wouldn’t be afraid to show their back to a friend. He breathed a short sigh of relief when he passed through the door and into the parking lot. A kid was spray painting a giant penis on the hood of his car, but took off running when he saw Gerry walking toward him.
In Hell, he would have fileted the child alive, but here he let him go. There was still a slight tingle and vibration running through his body from being in the Dominion’s presence. It was exhilarating being in the presence of that much power. Similar to when he’d first been around Prince Seere, minus the fear. Being in Ava’s presence was different. He almost wanted to be caught to see which of them would win the fight. There was something primal about going up against someone like her to test himself, even if he had a good chance of losing.
The plan was to complete the mission with Lucian without the Dominion finding out, but even the best plaid plans got blown to shit when the first shot was fired. He’d just have to wait and see.
His lieutenants were already hard at work to set the stage for the sacrifice. A second look at his watch showed that Vicky should be arriving at her school with Jezebel, Jeb, and Lono to begin the initial preparations. The rest of the show would begin tomorrow.
He gave one look back over his shoulder at the slightly rundown church before hopping in the car and driving away.
Setting the Stage
“I detest children,” Jezebel looked around the school gymnasium and sniffed.
Her nose wrinkled from all the teenage angst whirling in the æther. There was lust in the air, but it was unfocused, unbridled lust. Lust was like wine. You could get drunk off just about any brand, but some vintages were better than others. The unbridled lust of a teenager in heat was like boxed wine. It did the trick, but there wasn’t much else to it. There weren’t any hints of seduction or the finer points of sexuality that made lust so much more than a carnal emotion.
What she sensed here was a lot of passion, fumbling, and thirty seconds of thrusting before the man’s lust peaked and the woman’s plummeted. In her experience, that was how first times usually went, and someone had their first time in this room only a few hours ago.
Still, she was a lust-powered Infernal, so with a deep breath she sucked in the lingering æther.
“Really?” Vicky followed Jezebel into the gym. “Your snatch is basically a dong-magnet. Are you telling me that some random dude hasn’t knocked you up, and nine months later you pooped out a kid?”
“My kind doesn’t work like yours, Soulless.” Jezebel envisioned herself tearing the Souless’ leg off at the knee and shoving her foot down her own throat. “My children are never children at all. They are hatched at maturity. To be a child is to be weak and helpless. Anything I breed is born ready to serve.”
“Well, that’s creepy as fuck.” Vicky stepped aside so Jeb and Lono could roll in the supplies they’d need.
“Is there anything else you need, Ms. Jezebel?” Janitor Joe was basically salivating next to the sexy Infernal.
“I will need you soon, my love. Please be patient. “She didn’t even look at the elderly man. She didn’t need to. He was completely enthralled with her and would do anything she asked…anything.
“Ah, the American public school system. Good times.” Anton was the last into the large space where half-finished banners and decorations littered the floor.
“When did you ever attend school,” Vicky raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I spent a decade teaching down in Charleston. It seemed as good a way as any to attain some loyal feeders. You can’t imagine how many teenage girls swoon over a man quoting Shakespeare.”
“Oh I can.” Vicky didn’t let Anton see her smile. She’d been one of those once. Of course, she’d been the one that took advantage of that relationship.
“Enough!” Jeb was tired of the chattering. “Let’s get this over with.”
The greed-powered Infernal clearly thought this was beneath him, but the Dux had commanded they handle it.
The Dux’s lieutenants – no matter the management – rarely worked together on projects. There were several reasons for that: different management styles, they hated each other, competing over the limited æther in the city, and they hated each other.
The ætherial pie could only be split so many ways. What was the real difference between greed, lust, and gluttony? If someone lusted too much were they not greedy? If someone engaged in too much sex were they not gluttonous? Their ætherial power was not clear-cut. It was more like a vendiagram with overlapping circles, and those overlapping sections could be explosive. As a rule they kept to their individual territories around the city, but they were now all together in one place under one roof.
“The site is secure.” Anton informed. He had a squad of his Soulless watching the perimeter. It was unlikely that anyone would stop by this late, but better safe than sorry.
“The cameras are on loop.” Vicky informed. Elisa was in the school’s security office, and Vicky had compelled the guards to forget they were ever here.
“Let’s get started.” Jezebel commanded Janitor Joe to lie on the floor while Lono brought the cart of supplies forward.
Making wards was a fickle science: ingredients, intentions, and power were all at play in their creation. Most importantly, they needed someone motivated to get them done properly. Right now, they were all motivated by the fear that Gerry and Lucian would dismember them if they failed.
“We need four outward concealing wards in each corner of the ceiling.” Jezebel started out with the most obvious. “I can handle those.”
“The ceremony calls for three ætherial conduits at the center, but we’ll need another four to power the wards.” Jeb pointed at the center of the basketball court where the school’s mascot was emblazoned and its four corners. “We’ll make a triangle with an inward concealing ward in the center.”
“We’ll need dozens of protection wards calibrated for the Divine. I’d say three on the side walls, six on the ceiling, and three on the floor. If we are attacked it’ll be from above or the sides. Might as well throw containment wards on each of the doors,” Anton added as he surveyed the space.
“Too many conealment?” Lono spoke up for the first time in his broken English. It sounded like the fat of his triple-chin was strangling his attempt to speak.
“He’s right.” Jezebel nodded at the biggest Infernal in the room. “Too many inward concealment wards are going to dampen the other wards’ effectiveness.” That would be a big problem.
“That’s an easy fix.” Vicky shrugged. “We’ll get these banners finished and hang them over the wards to hide them. I’m the chair of the homecoming committee, so I’ll be here early to supervise the finishing touches before the dance. We’ll only need the one interior ward to hide the trio of conduits at the center. Everything else can be covered up.”
“An elegant solution.” Anton gave her a nod and then turned to the Infernals.
“Fine…”
“Whatever…”
Lono just nodded along, and they got to work.
Jezebel started with the outward-directed concealment wards. Their purpose was to keep the eyes of the Divine off the school while the Duxes completed their little ceremony. One was enough to hide an Infernal wielding æther. Two was enough to disguise a dux in their true form. The penthouse Gerry lived in had three just to be safe. If four were called for then there was going to be some serious shit going down. On a simpler level, the wards affected the senses of anyone nearby. There could be a fire raging the middle of the gym and no one outside would know any better until they crossed the threshold.
The ward wasn’t overly complicated, but it required enough
power that it wouldn’t simply burn away under the intensity of what was occurring within it. That required one key ingredient: blood. Not just ordinary blood, Infernal blood. The other ingredients were simple: six ounces of dead-man’s soil as a binding agent, a gallon of black paint you could get at any home improvement store, a sprinkling of frankincense, a sliver of silver, and a drop of dragon’s blood to fortify it against mundane methods of destruction. She stuck it all into a large pewter cauldron, lit a fire with her magic, and mixed it all together for six minutes and sixty six seconds.
That actually made it seven minutes and six seconds of mixing, but that’s not how the instructions explained it. There was a power in symbology that was as integral to the process as the ingredients themselves.
She added the ingredients in the proper order, and stirred for the first six minutes before taking out a small dagger and slicing her palm open. The wound started to heal quickly, but not before she got the required amount of drops into the potion. She hit it with a solid amount of motivation at six minutes and sixty-five seconds. There was a loud poof, a shower of sparks, and the black tar-like substance transformed into a luminous shade of silver.
She snapped her fingers and the fire went out. That was step one. Step two was getting the pattern right. Drawing a ward wasn’t like spray painting of vandalizing the surface of a building. It was an art. The complex geometric designs had to be painted with a masterful hand or it would just be shit scribbled on a wall.
Jezebel worked slowly and meticulously. It was shapes within shapes within more shapes. Sweat was flowing freely down her back by the time she carefully swept the final brushstroke across the white, brick wall. You could tell it was done correctly when the silver liquid seemed to solidify and sink into the surface of the wall.