“Plausible deniability,” Samael murmured, nodding. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
I stared at Pride, impressed by his logic. I’d horribly underestimated him. “Wow. Okay. But only if our life is at risk. No more shooting at shadows.”
He shrugged. “Sure thing.”
40
I handed him back the gun and bullets, and then turned to Samael. “We should get a few more guns. Roland can probably help us with that.” I glanced down at my phone, wondering if I had time to check on Ryuu and Lilith in hopes that they’d found something useful. Maybe it was safe enough for us to head to Castle Dracula instead of hanging out here. “Is there any way to prove your case and get the contracts retracted?” I asked Pride. “Isn’t the term assassination misleading since arch-class can only kill their counterparts, not their allies?”
Pride furrowed his brow unhappily. “No on the retraction option, and you are exactly right about assassination description. It makes zero sense. I haven’t even heard of it before, but it’s literally futile to aim at an archangel or archdemon. Unless both sides agreed to take out the other’s trash.”
“Maybe it was just the quickest way to turn any potential allies against you. No one wants to touch a pariah,” Samael suggested.
Pride nodded. “Either way, we’re going to have nephilim, angels, and demons crawling all over the city, searching for us. Both sides want us dead, but at least no one seems to realize we’re working together. And that’s what it’s all about, my friends. There is no I in team.”
“There’s one in assassination,” I said, dryly. “Two, actually. One for each of you.” Pride laughed, and I found myself smiling back at him, shaking my head. I could tell that he used his sharp sense of twisted humor as a shield to deflect, but only because it came easily to him. Pride was a very carefree demon. Wrath had pretended to be that way, but had quickly resorted to posturing when the tactic didn’t immediately get him what he wanted—me.
Despite the deflections, I could see that Pride really did have a big heart. He wasn’t a softie or anything, but he was kind of two-sided—casually sociopathic and willing to shoot a stranger at the slightest perceived provocation, but he also loved Frappuccinos, karaoke, and convertibles.
But the look on his face when he realized that Michael had risked his own reputation to protect him…
That had hit a deep, deep nerve. Possibly one that Pride had forgotten he even had. So, I was keeping a close eye on him.
In a darker way, Wrath had been similar—split between two warring personalities. There had been no sunshine or rainbows in his other half, though.
Even Michael had exhibited a drastic dichotomy in personalities. From judgmental and pious to self-loathing and morose.
I absently fingered the rings I had tucked away in my weapons belt—the ones that had sent up a flare of power when in proximity of both Michael and Pride. I’d checked them a few times on our drive here, even going so far as to discreetly touch Pride with it when I tapped him on the shoulder, and Michael when I’d patted his back reassuringly. There had been no reaction—from the rings or the two brothers.
Sensing Roland and Michael were wrapping up their conversation—judging by the louder laughs and casual tones in their speech—I spoke quickly to the demons. “To summarize, Gabriel and Wrath are covering their asses. Wrath sent me to speak to you, suggesting that I kill you,” I told Pride, “and then he immediately puts a hit out on you when I don’t kill you. Gabriel sent Michael to find me, and then immediately put a hit out on me, knowing it would put Michael in a trap. When that failed, he openly put a hit out on Michael. That’s either the universes aligning or we’re looking at some sort of collaboration effort. Either way, you two have been taken off the board. If you rear your heads, you will be instantly targeted. If you do anything to cross a line, you immediately corroborate their accusations, turning their paper-thin assassination contracts into ironclad proof. Oh, and Kansas City will burn no matter what happens. The war everyone claims to want to avoid pretty much already started.”
They stared back at me with hard faces, nodding.
Samael abruptly cocked his head, his grim countenance switching to suspicion. “Fuck.”
Pride looked over at him with a frown. “What?”
Samael pointed at my face. “That’s her scheming face, and I don’t think any of us are going to like it.”
Roland and Michael joined us. Roland was smirking, having heard Samael’s accusation. He nudged me with his elbow. “Callie probably had a plan two hours ago. She’s just been perfecting it and letting it simmer, psychologically prodding you like horses to water so that you would drink when she later brought it up.” His words had an instant effect on the three other men. They slowly turned to look at me with questioning frowns.
I smiled guiltily. “Only for the past hour, not two. But the rest is accurate.” I shot Roland a glare. “Jerk.”
He smiled at me like a proud father. Then he turned to Samael and dipped his chin. “Good to see you again, Samael.” He turned to Pride and extended his hand. “My name is Roland. Welcome to my church.”
“Pride,” the archdemon said with a bright grin, shaking his hand energetically. “Thanks for having me. It’s been a while, if you know what I mean.”
Roland’s smile slipped and, for the first time, he seemed to notice Pride’s t-shirt. He licked his lips uneasily as everyone watched him.
Pride indicated Michael with his chin. “In all seriousness, Roland, thank you for talking some sense into Archangel Michael. He’s as stubborn as a rock, but he’s still my brother.” Roland noticeably stiffened, looking as if he’d been zapped with a cattle prod. Pride could have rubbed Roland’s nose in it, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave Michael a warm, genuine smile, and there was nothing mischievous about it. “I know exactly what he’s going through,” he said, empathetically, “so I know exactly how hard it is to shake off and remember who you once were. Thank you for helping my brother, Roland. You’ve got a friend in me.”
The church was dead silent. Samael was biting his knuckle, and I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or if he was fighting not to burst out laughing. Roland’s face was gaunt and pale, looking as if he was ready to self-destruct in humiliation as he slowly turned to his newest friend, Michael.
The archangel shrugged with a guilty smile. Then he draped his arm around the vampire’s shoulders. “You truly are a good shepherd, Roland Haviar. Your own story was deeply moving. I don’t think any other story could have picked me back up from where I had fallen. And I don’t think I would have been wise enough to properly appreciate it until a little over an hour ago.”
Pride lowered his eyes bashfully, pretending to look at his boots.
Roland stared straight ahead, trapped under his hero’s arm. Or…sheltered under an archangel’s wing. He was speechless and mortified and…afraid.
“If anyone should feel humbled, it is me,” Michael continued. “You helped me open my eyes, and for that you have my gratitude. You gave me the courage to keep my chin up, and that’s all a man needs in this world. Well, courage, endless stubbornness, and a little splash of pride,” he added with a mock glare for the archdemon—who was still pointedly looking at his boots.
Roland nodded stiffly, licking his lips. “Thank you,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling. “I feared…that you would strike me down if I ever had the honor of meeting you,” he breathed, barely audible. And I watched as tears spilled down his cheeks.
I blinked through my own tears, wiping them on my sleeve.
Michael sighed. “How could I strike down the man who has lifted me back up?” Roland hung his head, overcome with emotion.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I snatched Roland away from the archangel and cupped the sides of his head in my palms. He stared into my eyes, tears trailing down his cheeks as he blinked rapidly, and I could feel him quivering. I planted a fat kiss on his forehead and then leaned back with a sob of my own. “I tol
d you, Roland. You’re still a good man. And now you owe me one.”
He hung his head, and let out the faintest cry I’d ever heard. Then he pulled me in and hugged me hard enough to almost hurt. I buried my face in his shoulder and squeezed back. Moments like this were what carried me through the tough days. This.
And one more thing.
I peeled myself away from my old mentor and gripped his wrist so he couldn’t escape. Then I turned to Michael. “Can you sign a crucifix, or something less blasphemous, for him? You’re his childhood hero.”
Roland’s face purpled and he sputtered wordlessly.
“Well, if he won’t, I will,” Pride said, turning as if to go nab a crucifix off the altar. I shoved him back into the statue, laughing.
“I think I need some coffee,” Roland said, looking as embarrassed as I’d ever seen and desperate for any excuse to escape. Then he sighed, and a slow smile turned into a full-on shit-eating grin. “And I would love that signature,” he said, deciding to own his humiliation.
Michael laughed. “For pulling me back to my feet? Of course, Father Roland.”
The Master Vampire of Kansas City squeed.
On the inside. Because he had an image to uphold. But his eyes danced like a million stars, and I felt like at least one good thing had come of this kerfuffle.
The two of them made their way towards Roland’s office.
“So, what is this scheme of yours?” Pride asked. Samael just shook his head, muttering under his breath.
I told them.
Pride burst out laughing. “We’re all going to die!”
41
Roland paced back and forth, stroking his chin pensively. Pride was snoring, using a stack of bibles as a pillow. He had put his aviator sunglasses back on for absolutely no discernible reason. Michael was scribbling an inscription into an old bible that I’d bought for Roland after my first year as his student. After he’d saved me and Claire from vampires in an alley as teens. I’d scraped up every penny of my allowance money that summer to buy it for him. I had later doodled and sketched on at least a third of the pages within.
When Roland had offered it up for the archangel to sign, I’d almost broken down into tears all over again. Roland could have chosen any of the ancient, priceless bibles from his personal collection, but he’d chosen mine—complete with doodles and sketches, and worth all of thirty dollars in babysitting money. The scars between us were fading, and I finally admitted to myself how much I’d missed him after our big fight.
I sat beside Samael, staring through the old stained-glass window as night fell over Kansas City. I toyed with the apocalyptic pink cherry blossom petal I’d picked up from the training fields where I met Aala. She had told me I had a natural gift for healing and, looking around me now…I couldn’t help but feel some small measure of pride at how I’d brought the five of us together.
If that wasn’t healing, I didn’t know what was. Maybe Aala had been right about me.
I’d caught everyone up to speed, sharing the initial plan I’d formulated with Samael, Lilith, and Ryuu, and factoring in the new knowledge I’d gained from Pride. The manhunt currently taking place outside for the archdemon and archangel only served to emphasize the importance of finding the last two Divines—the White Tiger and the Vermillion Bird.
Michael and Pride had been equally concerned about me gaining access to all four Divines, knowing that it would give me the ability to stand up to an archangel or archdemon. But now that their own people had seemingly set them up and were now gunning for them, there really wasn’t any other choice. We all wanted answers, but we had different names for it.
Pride called it vengeance.
Michael called it justice.
Samael called it salvation.
I called it a reckoning.
Because if I could get the power to square off with Wrath or Gabriel…
I wasn’t beholden to their family commitments. I could prevent a war. At least a war between Heaven and Hell. Instead of trying to kill each other, they would focus their efforts on me. And my ultimate defense was that the Spear of Destiny was inside of me, which would give both parties reason for pause.
Or so I hoped.
But none of that mattered if we couldn’t survive Purgatory. Or find the Divines before we were eaten alive by the billions of cannibalistic soul-eaters living there.
I cleared my throat, drawing everyone’s attention—except for Pride. He continued snoring away. “We still don’t have a way to find the Daemons, though,” I said, holding out the figurines for Xuanwu and Qinglong that I’d stowed away in my pocket before confronting Lilith. I’d almost completely forgotten about them in my haste to corner her on her deception, and I’d only remembered having them when I’d been absently searching for the cherry blossom petal a few minutes ago.
Michael clicked his pen and gently closed my Bible before turning to face me. He eyed the figurines with a frown. “What are those?”
One thing I’d definitely overlooked was that I could use the figurines to summon the Divines.
“Check this out,” I said. I nicked my finger on the edge of my katana and then pressed my blood onto both figurines before murmuring their names. Qinglong and Xuanwu abruptly appeared, looking startled. Michael leapt to his feet and Roland snapped out of his daze to see the two Divines suddenly standing in his office. Michael scowled at Xuanwu, recalling their last encounter at the playground, and set his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Then his legs were invisibly swept out from underneath him and he shattered the wooden chair on his way down to the floor. “Don’t,” the Black Tortoise said in a calm, rumbling tone. I shot Xuanwu a discreet grin but he pretended not to notice it as he sat down on the floor. “I take it this has something to do with the sudden activity on the streets of Kansas City? I hear there are two different manhunts in progress—Pride and Prejudiced.” Pride grinned, as if it had been a compliment. “I’ll admit that I was more surprised to not hear of a third contract, since I know Callie Penrose must have infuriated some powerful people since I saw her this morning.”
I shot him a dry look. “Nice to see you, too, Xuanwu. I’m relieved to see that you’re not being a grouch anymore.” I turned to the others. “Don’t upset him or he’ll make you split wood.”
He chuckled softly, causing his frosty skin to crack and creak.
Roland helped Michael to his feet, and I was surprised to see the archangel shaking his head with a humbled grin. He dipped his chin at Xuanwu, acknowledging his defeat. Xuanwu did not appear to classify it as a match, but he politely dipped his wicked beak back at the archangel.
Qinglong sat down beside his brother, staring at the figurines in my lap. “Still feeling okay?” he asked me, seeming to stare into my body like a doctor with x-ray vision. “No concerns about Aala’s treatment?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine, although I am feeling a little temperamental.”
“You can thank Eve for that,” Pride murmured loud enough for everyone to hear. I shot him a nasty glare, only to find him grinning with his eyes closed. Michael crashing into the wooden chair must have woken him up.
Samael nodded. “It’s a fair point,” he said with a smug grin. “Lilith is the best.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to Qinglong. “My magic is definitely more potent, but I haven’t really tested it out much. When I did, it was a doozy. Other than that, just a little more…temperamental,” I repeated, shooting a withering warning glare at my godfather and Pride—who both smirked openly.
Pride got up and stretched. Then he strolled over to the desk, checking his phone—a mirror application, judging by how he fixed his hair with meticulous care. Then he pocketed his vanity tablet and sat down next to his brother, yawning.
Xuanwu leaned my way. “Ryuu informed us of your plan to find our Sisters,” he breathed, so softly that no one else seemed to overhear. “He takes his commitment to keep you safe very personally and, if you don’t come collect
him soon, I may be forced to build additional storage for all my new piles of split wood. He is growing rather irritable coordinating watches for the city.”
I chuckled. “We will be there soon. Tell him he only has to wait a little longer. Tomorrow morning.”
Qinglong growled anxiously. “Why have you summoned us?”
“I found a way to safely traverse the Neverwas,” I said, pointing at Michael and Pride.
Pride grunted. “And by safely traverse, she means we can survive a tiny bit longer before we are overrun and eaten alive.”
I shot him a scowl before turning back to the Divines. “But I don’t know how to find your sisters once we get there. I don’t know where their figurines are.”
Xuanwu and Qinglong stared at each other with looks of unanticipated hope. “You said Lilith banished them?” Xuanwu asked. I nodded. “Have you asked her about the figurines?”
I blinked at Xuanwu. Then I frowned. “Of course I asked her.”
“She definitely didn’t ask her,” Pride murmured, leaning closer to Michael.
Michael smirked boyishly. Then he abruptly realized that he was agreeing with his brother, the demon. His smile faltered and he frowned with a confused look on his face, as if not knowing which reaction he should entertain. He scooted a few inches away from his brother, focusing on the Divines.
Samael was frowning at me. “You didn’t ask her. I’m certain of it.”
I clenched my jaw. “Does anyone else want to criticize me or can we move onto finding some solutions?”
“We probably have time for both,” Pride suggested, scratching at his jaw, pensively. I reached for a nearby book and threw it at him. He didn’t even look at the inbound projectile as he casually leaned to the side, letting it whip past his head to hit the wall.
Anghellic: Feathers and Fire Book 8 Page 24