by Ken Lange
He pulled me into the dining room. “Henri’s alive?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He blew out a long breath. “Well, that changes things a great deal.”
Frowning, I asked, “How’s that?”
Andrew gestured at the table. “Have a seat.” I did, and he continued. “Henri’s somewhere around seventeen hundred years old, and stupidly powerful.” He gestured at the ceiling. “He’s got a vast knowledge of pocket realities, demonology, transdimensional travel, along with a host of other subjects the rest of us were far too frightened to pursue.”
I shrugged. “I’m not seeing how this changes anything for anyone…other than Kimberly and Heather.”
Andrew grimaced and sat next to me. “The way it changes things is that we now know our enemies, and if we can convince him to help fight this war, he’ll be able to solve some of the mysteries you’ve uncovered. If anyone in this world could make sense of all that, it’s Henri.”
“I’m not sure he’s going to be up for assisting us with anything for quite some time. The man’s been missing for twenty-seven years, and he suddenly pops out of a fucking bookcase. God only knows the hell he’s been through.”
Andrew’s cheeks burned crimson. “I know, but I have to think about our people’s future.”
I patted his arm. “Understandable.”
He lifted his gaze and glanced around the room. “Where’s Gabriel? Isn’t he supposed to be here?”
I thumbed over my shoulder. “He went for a walk.”
His expression darkened. “Funny how he does that whenever I’m around. Does he not like me?”
Placing my forehead in my hand, I said, “It’s not that.”
He folded his arms. “Then what is it?”
I got up and closed the doors. “Okay, we’re going to have a talk, but you’ve got to promise me you’ll remain calm.”
He nodded. “Fine. Just tell me what I’ve done to the man. I’d like to be friends with the person protecting my nephew’s life.”
Oh god, this was going to be rough.
“He’s afraid of you, and what you might do if you find out who he really is.”
Andrew gave me a dismissive wave. “The Nephilim boat sailed a long time ago. He has nothing to fear from me on that subject.”
I sat next to him. “That’s what he is, not who.”
Andrew gave me a curious look. “I don’t follow.”
My stomach tied itself in knots as I blurted the words out. “He’s Martha’s son.”
All the blood drained from his face, his hands shook, and tears welled in his eyes. When he finally spoke, it was barely audible. “Really?” He smiled. “She had a son. I’m so happy for her.”
Okay, that was unexpected. “You are?”
Tears rolled down his face, and he nodded. “She wanted a child more than anything in the world. We tried and tried, but after the miscarriage we thought she was simply unable. She felt like she was a burden. She wasn’t…but her depression wouldn’t let her see that.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “I have to admit, this is going better than I thought it would.”
He sniffed and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. “Gabriel is a part of Martha, and I loved her with all my heart. There isn’t any way I could be angry with him.” He raised his gaze to mine. “Who’s his father?”
I frowned. “He doesn’t know.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “But you do.”
I shook my head. “Not really, no.”
He put his hand on my arm and gently squeezed. “I’m not angry. I won’t go looking for him. I just want to know.”
I placed my hand over his. “If I knew, I’d tell you. The reason she didn’t tell you about Gabriel is because she was afraid you’d accidently use your telepathy and discover what really happened.”
Confusion rolled through his eyes. “I don’t understand.”
Fuck, this was where things would most likely go sideways.
“She never knew who the father was. She was attacked and raped by an angel. When she discovered she was pregnant, she was so overjoyed that she decided to keep the child and shield him from harm. She was afraid that how he was conceived would taint his life and send you on a quest for vengeance. That’s the last thing she ever wanted for her son, or for you.”
Andrew sat there silently for a long moment before nodding. “She was probably right. But I lost her. I can’t lose him too.” He gave me a sheepish look. “Do you think he’d want to get to know me? I know I’m not his father, but…”
I gave him a weak smile. “One way to find out.”
I picked up my phone, and texted Gabriel. I didn’t leave anything out.
When he arrived, I got up and left the two of them alone. I slowly made my way upstairs where I found Kimberly, Heather, and a man I didn’t know.
Heather turned to me and gestured at the newcomer. “Gavin, this is Keto Baba. He’s the resident doctor for Archive members here in the city.”
Keto held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His accent wasn’t thick, but it clearly placed him somewhere in Africa, possibly of Swahili descent.
I shook his hand. “Likewise.”
Kimberly glanced over my shoulder. “Where’s Andrew?”
My breath caught in my chest, and I didn’t answer for several seconds. “He’s downstairs talking to Gabriel.”
Heather narrowed her eyes. “So, you’ve finally come clean about whatever secret you’ve been keeping.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
She arched her eyebrow. “Care to share with the rest of us?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s something they’re going to need to do themselves. I’m fairly sure you’ll know by dawn.”
Keto cleared his throat. “I’ve got a patient to attend to. Maybe you three should discuss whatever this is elsewhere.”
I held out my hand. “Is he all right? Will he recover?”
Keto shrugged. “No idea. I haven’t a clue where he’s been or how he got here or why he showed up this evening. It’s my hope we can get the answers from him. If I can wake him. To do that, I’ll need to treat the man, which requires time and patience from the rest of you.”
Kimberly nodded. “Can I help?”
His gaze met hers. “I’d appreciate it.”
She pointed at Heather and me. “You two help the others downstairs clean up the mess, and Keto and I will do what we can for my father.”
Heather looked as if she wanted to argue, but thankfully didn’t. “Yes, ma’am.”
I pivoted on the spot and walked out. “Hey, let’s step into the office.”
She pursed her lips but nodded. “Okay.”
I pushed the door closed for privacy and lowered my voice. “I didn’t want to upset your mom, but the secret I’ve been keeping is that Gabriel is Martha’s son.”
Heather fell into her chair. “What? Are you serious?”
I nodded. “Couldn’t be more serious. The reason we didn’t share this—”
“Is because Andrew could’ve picked it up from us. Good god, you just left the two of them alone down there?”
I chewed my lip, my cheeks hot. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe we should get down there.”
We hurried downstairs to find Andrew and Gabriel walking out of the dining room smiling. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but no one was dead…so I was counting that as a win.
I glanced over at Heather and shrugged. “Guess everything turned out.”
She nodded. “Looks like it.”
Baptist stepped through the opening where the front door used to be. “You’re going to need to get this fixed. My other half, Alyosha, could have it replaced by dawn. That’ll keep the neighbors from wagging their mouths too much.”
I laughed. “There were explosions and a bunch of cops hanging out all night. I think they’re going to talk.”
He shook his head. “Doubtful. People can explain away almost a
nything.”
“True.” Closing my eyes, I yawned. “If you wouldn’t mind calling to see if Alyosha could give us a hand, I’d be very grateful.”
He grinned. “I’ve already sent him a text. He’s on the way.”
Heather tittered. “What if we’d said no?”
He gave her a dismissive wave. “Then I would’ve told him to go home. This way we waste as little time as possible.”
She beamed. “You’re a wise man.”
He blushed. “Thank you, but I think you’re confusing my propensity for being prepared with actual wisdom.”
Andrew walked over. “Is there anything I can help with?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight, but tomorrow Vasile’s going to interrogate the men I brought back from Montana. I was hoping you’d have a go at them if he can’t get the information we need.”
Andrew nodded. “I can do that.”
Gabriel thumbed at the rear of the house. “I’m going to check on things back there and see about securing it for the night.”
Baptist smiled. “In a few hours, you’ll have two new doors. Alyosha will start in the front since it’s the one visible from the street.”
Gabriel gave me a questioning look. “Huh?”
I chuckled. “Someone’s on their way over to fix things.”
He nodded. “Great.”
Not long after that, Alyosha showed up and got to work. Andrew caught a ride from one of the UCD officers to his house. Kimberly and Keto made their way down just before dawn wearing uncertain expressions. They’d done all they could for Henri, and now the rest was up to him. At this point, only time would tell if he’d recover from his ordeal. The main problem with his treatment was that none of us knew what he’d been through or what was wrong with him.
Chapter 21
I woke in the early hours of the morning, and immediately wished I hadn’t.
At least unconscious, I hadn’t hurt. Now, the sense of being dropped off a very tall building then run over by a semi-truck overwhelmed me. What in the hell had happened to me? For the first time in a very long time, I was afraid to move. How much worse would it get when I tried to sit up?
The culprit was this thing—it shouldn’t be considered furniture—I’d fallen asleep on around dawn. It was more of a torture device meant to cripple a man by luring him into a false sense of comfort before systematically destroying his will to live.
Keto stepped into the open doorway of the office and chuckled. “That couch is awful to sleep on.”
I glanced up at him. “Now you tell me. Christ…I’m not sure I’m able to get up.”
He walked over and offered me a hand. “Let me help.”
I was quick—as quick as I could be—to take him up on his offer. “Thanks.”
He pulled me to my feet. “Henri should’ve replaced that decades ago. He was of the opinion that he didn’t come in here to rest. It also served to ensure guests didn’t overstay their welcome.”
I glanced back at the innocuous piece of furniture and sighed. “He’s a clever man. Sadistic…but clever.”
He gestured at the chairs by the desk. “Sit. They were always comfortable.”
I shook my head. “No thanks, I’d rather stay upright at the moment.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Stretching, I asked, “Speaking of Henri, how’s he doing?”
Running his hand over his face, he stifled a yawn. “Not sure, to be honest. He had several burns on his back and hands. There was a great deal of ash, and the clothes he was wearing weren’t made of any materials I’m familiar with. Wherever he’s been, it was hot, smoky, and foreign.”
“Well, shit. I guess our only hope is that he wakes up soon and gives us the scoop. Otherwise, we’re going to be trying to figure this out for centuries.”
He gestured at the bookcase. “Mind if I take a look?”
I frowned. “It’s probably best that you don’t.” Thumbing over my shoulder, I said, “The last time I messed with it, I found myself in the hall. If you look closely there, you’ll find a dent in the plaster that’s just my size.”
Keto glanced out at the divot and sighed. “Figures. Henri was never one for sharing secrets.” He took a seat. “Henri’s a survivor. If anyone can pull through, it’s him. I’m just hoping it’s sooner rather than later.”
“You and me both.”
Keto gestured toward the front of the house. “I’ve got a question about your police friend.”
I shrugged. “Okay, shoot.”
He eyed me closely. “Did you know that he’s a Domovoi?”
“Huh?” Shaking my head, I said, “Ah, no.”
If I was honest, I hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was talking about. Thankfully, Kur decided to throw me a lifeline. “The Domovoi are rare. I’ve never heard of one outside the area you now call Russia.”
“What are they?”
Ancient drawings of shadowy figures sped across my mind. “No one is truly sure. I’ve only heard of them whispered about in the dark places throughout the universe. They’re powerful…many consider them to be protector gods since they tend to watch over a particular piece of land or perhaps a home. Until this very moment, I thought they were more spirit than flesh. Obviously, that isn’t the case.”
“You think?”
Kur was undeterred. “If he’s truly a Domovoi, the captain is far more powerful than he’s implied.”
“Considering I thought he was human, and he’s not, I couldn’t agree more.”
Keto cleared his throat. “You all right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I was accessing the information the Archive has about the Domovoi. It isn’t much.”
He snorted. “I’d think not. They’re intensely private. I only know about them because of my travels through Siberia long ago. At the time, I was young and stupid. I’d gone on a walkabout on my own, which was a serious mistake. It was winter, and I wasn’t prepared. I took a tumble and sustained a mortal injury. Thankfully, an old woman—or that’s what I thought she was at the time—took me in and nursed me back to health over the course of the following year. Even with her tending to me day in and day out, it took me six months to discover what she was. They’re extraordinarily loyal, kind…and absolutely terrifying if driven to anger, or if they’re protecting something they’ve sworn an oath to. I’ve never heard of one, let alone two, leaving their homeland. Whatever’s brought them here has to be significant in a way I can’t comprehend.”
I blinked. “Wait, you said two. Who’s the second?”
Keto beamed. “His partner, Alyosha.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “Hmmm.”
He walked over and patted me on the back. “You have nothing to fear from them. If they intended you harm, you’d know about it. Besides, the craftsmanship of a Domovoi is legendary. The repairs he made downstairs will last longer than this city.” He gestured at the ground floor. “If I had to guess, your new doors could withstand an atomic blast. The rest of the house would be ash, of course, but they’d remain.”
Not able to believe what I was hearing, I shook my head. “Are you sure?”
A warm smile spread across his face. “About the bomb or the Domovoi? Because if it’s the latter then yes. If it’s the former…let’s just say the theory hasn’t been tested, but everything they craft is imbued with a magic unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It won’t burn. It can’t be torn down, and it never ages.”
What was I supposed to say to that? “Henri’d better be happy with the repairs then.”
Keto yawned. “I’m sure he’ll approve.” He gestured toward the hall. “You’re looking a little pale. Maybe you should get some food.” Clearing his throat, he said, “Speaking of which, I heard Gabriel found some recipes yesterday.”
I grinned. “Yeah, he made Henri’s lasagna last night.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “Could you ask him to make Bœuf bourguignon? It was Henri’s favorite dish as a young man. Maybe the aroma wi
ll do what I can’t.”
I walked over to the hall. “If you think it’ll help, I’ll ask.”
“That’s great.” Yawning again, he pointed at the corner with the sofa. “Mind if I crash here for a bit? I need to catch up on my sleep.”
I eyed the couch suspiciously. “You really want to lie down on that thing?”
Keto shook his head and walked over to the section of wall beside it. “Hell no.” He pushed a carved panel, and a murphy bed slowly lowered into position. “I’m going to use this.”
Holy shit, the guy could’ve said something last night. “Be my guest.”
I made my way downstairs to the kitchen where Gabriel was busy making himself breakfast.
He smiled. “Morning. Want something to eat?”
I gestured at the fridge. “Mind if I go for the lasagna? I’d hate the leftovers to crowd the icebox.”
Cocking an eyebrow at me, he asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I plastered my best smile onto my face. “It means you’ve got a special request.”
He wore a confused expression. “Huh?”
“Keto has asked if you’d make some Bœuf bourguignon.”
The prospect of trying a new dish so quickly excited him and he took a few minutes to search through the old recipes to find the right one. Then it was just a matter of making a list of ingredients that were needed before he was off to the store.
I was finishing off the first pan of lasagna when Kimberly made her way into the kitchen. She chuckled. “Seriously? You’re having cold leftovers for breakfast?”
I dropped my fork into the empty pan and smiled. “Yep.” Pointing at the stove, I said, “But if you want something, I’ll happily make it for you.”
She frowned. “Was that the last of the lasagna?”
Grinning, I opened the fridge and pulled out a full tray of the stuff. “Nope.”
She picked up a plate and handed it to me. “If you wouldn’t mind heating mine, I’d be very grateful. It’s been years since I’ve had my father’s recipe.” Her gaze tracked my every movement. “Heather said Gabriel found quite a few of his notes.”
“He did.” The microwave beeped, and I pulled her plate out.
Excitement twinkled in her eyes. “Think he’d mind if I borrowed them for a few days?”