Angel Born

by Brian Fuller

  “I copy.”

  “Do you copy, Aclima?” Argyle said.

  “Yeessssss,” she said, voice like lead.

  “Argyle out.”

  “Finally,” Aclima said after removing her earpiece. “Argyle must have trained with the Broomstick Up Your Butt Brigade. I’m all for a good plan, but this is ridiculous. Did we manage to get out in under twelve minutes and forty-five seconds like he wanted?”

  Helo checked his watch. “Oh no! Looks like we’re a minute over. Fail.”

  They cleaned up their cards, Aclima keeping them ordered so they could continue their game later. Like Cassandra, Aclima liked to do the driving, though her law-abiding, take-no-chances driving style was completely different from his former trainer’s reckless abandon. Whenever they encountered a stop sign, Aclima would stop the vehicle behind the line and sit for a full three seconds even if the intersection was clear.

  “Were you a driving instructor or something?” Helo asked after she sat patiently at a red light for forty-five seconds on a completely abandoned street.

  “No,” she said. “It’s an idea I picked up from the Japanese.”

  “Driving like a grandma is Japanese?” Helo joked.

  “No. A philosophy,” she said. “You can take almost any mundane task and find a way to improve it, to make it the best it can be. I can drive just like anyone else to suit my own needs, or I can drive in a perfected way beginning with leaving on time, driving so my passengers feel perfectly safe, and executing every task perfectly within the boundaries of the law. All this to create an elevated ride.”

  “You really did get bored during those six thousand years,” Helo said.

  “Yes, I did. But it really is an interesting way to live life. After you’ve lived a long time and done everything, perfection is the only pastime.”

  Aclima’s phone buzzed.

  “Can you answer it, please?” she asked.

  He grabbed her phone out of the console and checked the screen. “It’s a message from Archus Mars. I can’t see what it is unless you unlock the phone.”

  He held it up to her and she put her right index finger on it. The screen sprang to life, her background picture a cherry tree in blossom. Helo tapped to the messages.

  “Mars says, ‘I thought you should see this before you get blindsided by it in a briefing. You’ve got a tough call to make.’ It’s a video.”

  “Think we can watch it and still make it to the rendezvous on time?” she asked. “I’d hate to blemish such a perfectly executed operation by showing up late.”

  “Looks like it’s only about a minute long.”

  They pulled into the parking lot of a closed Chinese restaurant and parked. Aclima took the phone and pressed Play, eyes widening immediately. Helo had seen the woman on the screen once before on the Tempest—Aclima’s sister Jumelia.

  Jumelia had the same coloring as her sibling, though Aclima possessed the more natural beauty. As Helo would have expected from someone who—at least from time to time—considered herself Cain’s wife, she dressed richly. Modern white dress. Pearls. Diamonds. Sultry makeup. She sat in a leather chair against a stonework wall with her legs crossed, face a sneer. Aclima had told him Jumelia hated her, and apparently grudges could live for thousands of years.

  “Sister,” Jumelia said, tone snotty, “you know just as well as I how irritable Cain can be when he doesn’t get what he wants. It makes him positively furious when someone steals something from him as your new group of associates has done. He has authorized me to hold a meeting with you to negotiate some of his demands, though I wish Padru would do it so I wouldn’t have to see your face again.

  “I know you have little motivation to leave the safe little circle of your new Trash Angel friends, but I will provide some. If you do not come, Cain has arranged for a little mayhem to make its way across the news so you can have a little more blood on your hands. Of course, there’s so much on them already I told him you might not even notice. But there it is.

  “For the next three days, a Dread will be waiting for you at the Addison Red Line station in Chicago at 10:00 a.m. If you do not show on one of those days, the previously mentioned mayhem will ensue. It will just be a little chat, and then we’ll let you go back to play with your glowing companions. Come alone, dear sister. No tricks, or the consequences will be unfortunate.”

  The video ended.

  “I really hate her,” Aclima said. “Whenever you imagine the bad things I may have done, imagine them doubly worse for her.”

  “You’re not going,” Helo said. “We can’t let the Dreads blackmail us like that. If we do, they’ll do it all the time.”

  Aclima put the car in gear and pulled onto the street without saying anything. Helo didn’t like the expression on her face. She was thinking about it, actually thinking about meeting with Jumelia. How could she even consider it?

  “Aclima, you can’t do this.”

  She stared, dead faced, out the windshield, and Helo knew he had a war on his hands.

  Chapter 17

  Confession

  Helo leaned his head back against the side of the van during the ride back to Zion Alpha. It was a delivery-style vehicle, bench seats along the sides with places to stow their gear underneath. Aclima seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly shuffling her playing cards. Faramir looked like a matchstick with a burnt head, his precious hat now just charred fabric stuck to his gooey skin. Next to him, Shujaa sat with a look almost as vacant as Aclima’s. Argyle was driving, and he and Goliath were whispering intently to one another, probably about something they didn’t want the rest of them to hear.

  Helo’s phone chimed. A text from Tela at 4:13 a.m.?

  Had the dreams again. U Ok?

  I’m good, he texted back. So his visit hadn’t cured her dreams, after all.

  When do you sleep? she asked.

  He texted back a smiley face. Aclima was trying to get a glimpse of his screen out of the corner of her eye, and he angled the phone away. After a few minutes, Tela texted him again.

  Danny and Angie were fighting about you, I think. Were you dating her or something?

  Helo closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the van wall. That didn’t sound good, and he really didn’t want to think about it. Right now he had to focus on his brother and finding Cain. He didn’t need relationship drama distracting him, especially drama from Terissa.

  Go to bed, Tela ;-)

  Aclima nudged him. “In case you’re sitting there wondering why Terissa and Corinth are fighting about you, it’s because after Terissa saw you, those old feelings are coming back to the surface. Corinth is feeling her getting distant and complaining about it.”

  “Hey,” Helo said, shutting off his phone. “Not cool.”

  “Anyway,” Aclima said. “Terissa will want to see you pretty soon. Better get ready. The healing is about to begin.”

  Helo snatched the playing cards out of her hand and dealt seven cards to her and then to himself. Wordlessly, she took the stack and sorted the cards. He did the same.

  “If I win this game of Go Fish, you drop this Terissa-wanting-me-back nonsense,” he said.

  “Fine.”

  His phone buzzed again. Tela really needed sleeping pills or something. But it wasn’t Tela. It was Scarlet.

  Hey, there, Helo. I know I said I wouldn’t do this, but I would really like to get together sometime.

  Ugh.

  “I told you,” Aclima said, tone superior.

  Helo killed the screen. “Quit . . .” He exhaled. “Do you ever get tired of being right?”

  She repositioned some of the cards in her hand. “Oddly, no. I’ve grown weary of just about everything else, but being right? It’s still as fun and fresh as ever. Got any queens? Queen of hearts, maybe?

  “Shut up.”

  By the time they arrived at Zion Alpha, he had lost the game of Go Fish, six games of poker, and a long game called Gin Rummy he had never played before. Aclima was f
rustratingly hard to beat at anything, whether an argument, sword fighting, or something as stupid as Go Fish. It was beyond him how someone could actually be good at Go Fish. Besides that, she had bullied him into accepting Scarlet’s offer—which he intended to do anyway. He and Scarlet really did need to talk, to establish some kind of rapport, but in his mind he couldn’t imagine what he would say.

  As he and Aclima followed the team to the elevator that would take them to the underground base, he pushed Scarlet out of his mind to focus on Aclima. The closer Aclima got to base, the more distant she became, her thoughts pulling her inward. Helo could tell by the look on her face that she had decided to go along with Cain’s plan and confront Jumelia.

  He just couldn’t understand it. How could she be so smart and still be so stupid about this? Couldn’t she see how giving in to Jumelia’s demands would only bring misery to her and give Cain a way to control the Ash Angels? Since she apparently wouldn’t listen to reason or to him, maybe he could talk the Ash Angel leadership into some sense.

  Goliath and Argyle led the way to the conference room, indicating the team would have to wait to get replacements for their charred clothing. Thankfully, dawn had come before they arrived at the base and Faramir’s crispy head had returned to normal. As Argyle had threatened, he forced the entire team to sit at the front of the room, even Shujaa, who grunted unhappily but complied when Argyle called him on it. Goliath went to the front and sat on the table, Argyle to her left at parade rest.

  “Okay, folks,” Goliath said. “Let’s have a little mission postmortem before we discuss an opportunity that has arisen during the ride home. First and most importantly, the mission was a success. Both the Dreads were eliminated from the block and two Possessed identified as a bonus. So what was good and bad, and how can we get better?”

  “All that matters is that two Dreads have gone back to hell,” Shujaa said, clenching his knuckles. The 3:24 he had marked on his dark skin bulged with the effort.

  Helo raised his hand. “Faramir’s face looked like he was french kissing a jet engine on full afterburner.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?” Shujaa quipped. Helo couldn’t tell for sure, but the corners of Argyle’s mouth might have twitched upward a millimeter.

  “That was not my fault!” Faramir protested. “Meth labs are known to—”

  “Faramir,” Goliath interrupted. “No one’s blaming you. Anyone who’s been in the field for more than a few years knows about meth labs. Anything else?”

  Argyle cleared his throat. “Permission to speak.”

  Goliath closed her eyes for a couple seconds. “Of course, Argyle. At ease.”

  His at ease was not very at ease. “I would like to point out how asking for sitreps at critical junctures as suggested in the Engagement Policies Handbook proved useful in identifying a potential threat in the previously unmarked Possessed.”

  “True,” Goliath said. “How about you, Jeopardy? Anything you want to add?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Shujaa’s killing of the escaped Dread was too ostentatious. If any normals had been watching, they would have immediately known something unusual had happened.”

  “Oh, really?” Goliath said. “What happened, Shujaa?”

  Shujaa glowered at Aclima for a moment. “A Dread broke contain and made it to the yard. I mashed his head in with my gun.”

  “After jumping fifteen feet in the air,” Helo added.

  Shujaa shrugged. “I kill Dreads. I don’t care how high I have to jump to do it.”

  “I would remind you, Shujaa,” Argyle said, “that discretion is one of the pillars of every mission. Perhaps I will bring in one of the Gabriel trainers for a little refresher course. Helo and Jeopardy, do you have a better feel for how missions are executed in the Michaels division?”

  “Definitely,” Aclima said, her tone flirting with sarcasm.

  “Yes, sir,” Helo said. The missions were just as screwed up and unpredictable as the ones he went on as a Gabriel.

  “Good,” Goliath said, hopping off the table. “Now we’ve got a little video to watch. This is one of the first good looks anyone besides Helo and Aclima have had of Aclima’s sister, Jumelia. It was sent a few hours ago via a Dread who cornered an Ash Angel in Chicago and demanded it be delivered. Primus, lights low. Play video Jumelia One.”

  The room dimmed, and the curved glass display sprung to life with the video of Jumelia Helo had watched earlier with Aclima. On the second viewing, Jumelia’s self-possession and arrogance struck him. Like Cain, she clearly loved finery. The two really were a good match. Had she been angry when Cain claimed Aclima for his wife in addition to her so many thousands of years ago? She had to be angry about Cain wanting Aclima back now.

  The video ended and the lights came back up, Goliath retaking her position on the table.

  “Jeopardy, give us the critical bits about Jumelia. What do we need to know?”

  Aclima exhaled, eyes hard. “Jumelia is a Cain fangirl—100 percent dedicated to him and whatever plot he’s hatching. She can’t be turned or reasoned with. If she has a weakness, it’s her vanity, though I don’t think it will be of much use to us. If you couldn’t pick up on her cues, she hates me. Always has.”

  “Why?” Faramir asked, craning his head around to look at her.

  Aclima was silent for a moment. Helo wondered how painful the memories were.

  “I was Cain’s second wife,” she finally said. “He took me to wife not long after he married her. Polygamous marriages often spawn competition between the wives, and she was furious when he appeared to prefer me for a time. After I left Cain, I fought against him and his family. I did . . . things . . . to hurt her in particular.”

  “Like what?” Shujaa said, voice low.

  “We’re not going there,” Goliath said, cutting short any reply Aclima would have made. “We’ve got what we need to know. Now, as most of you are aware, Ash Angel policy is not to give in to these kinds of demands, though exceptions have been made under certain circumstances.”

  Helo nodded. He had been one of those exceptions when Cain had used similar threats to get him out to the Tempest. The protection of normals outweighed the importance of his life, though the policy generally prohibited giving in to Dread threats. He would make sure that policy was enforced today. Aclima was not going to visit her poisonous sister.

  “Now,” Goliath continued. “I want to hear thoughts from each of you.”

  Argyle jumped in first. “We should follow the policy. We cannot set a precedent where we allow ourselves to be manipulated in this way. It would make us vulnerable and ultimately cost more lives, both normals and Ash Angels.”

  Helo never thought he’d have cause to thank Argyle, but he had an ally. He jumped in. “I agree for all the same reasons. I would add that Aclima is too valuable to risk. We can’t take the chance that she’ll fall back into Cain’s hands.”

  “Shujaa?” Goliath prompted.

  “She should go,” he said, eyes pegged to the empty screen, tone dark. “No more innocent lives should be lost on her account.”

  “You’re up, Faramir,” Goliath said.

  “It’s a tough call,” he said, “but nobody’s brought up the real reason we’re talking about this, right? We’re not really concerned about the lives of the normals at all. We’re talking about this because it gives us a shot at Jumelia. We play this right, we can take out one of Cain’s biggest allies.”

  Helo chided himself. He’d been so caught up in protecting Aclima he hadn’t seen that angle. It didn’t change his mind, but at least there was a reason the Ash Angel leadership was considering it at all.

  Goliath nodded. “You know, Faramir, sometimes I really believe there is a brain up there. Yes, the opportunity to get Jumelia is the issue here. Admah fell into our lap. I don’t think we’ll be so lucky with the rest of them, and Jumelia is a big prize.”

  Helo shook his head. “She’s not worth serving up Aclima on a golden platter. We can b
e as clever as we want, but I guarantee they will make it nearly impossible to track Aclima if we send her out. They’ve got to know we’ll try.”

  “I got stuff they won’t find,” Faramir stated confidently.

  “You can’t be sure,” Helo said. “This is not happening. Goliath, tell me you aren’t considering this.”

  She hopped off the table and folded her arms. “Truth is, we don’t get to decide.”

  Helo leaned back in his chair. “Why even bother asking us, then? Who gets to decide? Archus Mars? The Archai?”

  Goliath’s expression turned hard. “I bothered asking because I wanted the person who does get to decide to hear what you had to say. For my part, I say we shouldn’t do it. But like I said, it’s not up to me.” She moved over to stand in front of Aclima. “It’s up to Aclima. The Archai has left the decision to her.”

  Helo clenched his teeth. It figured. The one person he couldn’t convince of anything was the one who got to decide. Aclima’s face was already set, her eyes burning with purpose. When she opened her mouth to speak, Helo knew exactly what she was going to say.

  “I’m going.”

  Helo slapped the top of his desk, making the computer within spring to life. “Why?” he asked, tone stern.

  Aclima turned toward him. “I’ve got to do this. It’s—”

  “It’s pointless!” Helo interrupted. “She wouldn’t want to meet with you unless she wanted to hurt you. Going there gets us nothing!”

  “Helo,” Aclima said, “it’s my choice. I am going.”

  “But—”

  “That’s it, Helo,” Goliath said. “The decision has been made. Argyle and I will consult with the Medius on how we will proceed. Stay on base and close to your phones. I will send you word on when we will hold the next briefing. Dismissed.”

  “Helo,” Aclima said.

  He wouldn’t have any of it. He got up and walked out, storming through the hallway back to his room. Why did she have to be so stubborn? And what were the Ash Angels thinking?

  He went to his room and threw himself into his rolling desk chair, almost careening into the desk. He couldn’t stop her from going, but he wasn’t going to let the Ash Angels leave him out, either. If they tried to stop him, he would just leave and follow anyway. He knew where the meet was going to happen.