by S. M. Reine
The tugging of Junior’s presence came from across the street, closer to the roar of the Truckee River. “This way,” Lincoln said. “You know about the Treaty of Dis, right? What it did to gaean species?”
“Gaean?” Elise asked.
She really didn’t know anything yet. “That’s a catchall term for preternaturals on earth,” Lincoln explained. “Werewolves, vampires, faeries. The Treaty of Dis eliminated all of ‘em except werewolves and made kopides to protect humans. Everything else is gone. Right?”
“There’s a few basandere and other high-level sidhe.” Elise jogged alongside him with long, easy strides. “Although I might have killed the last faerie on Earth a couple of years ago.” She didn’t sound bothered by the idea. Her understanding of the world was still so narrow.
“In the future, things change,” Lincoln said, veering off the sidewalk to cross the grass. A lot of the locust carcasses had slid into the river during the rain, and he could make out masses of their bodies bobbing and swirling among the rocks. “The other gaeans came back. And when I came from the year 2015, I brought one of them with me.”
Her fist tightened on the hilt of the sword. “You brought what ?”
Junior lumbered out of the shadows, wings folded back to protect his head from the rain. He had been standing behind a tree on the shore of the Truckee.
Elise gasped out loud. “Fallen angel!”
Lincoln had spent enough time around Junior that he’d forgotten just how impressive the gargoyle was. He looked like a statue that could move, at a first glance, and the statue was more than twice his height and weighed more than a car.
He leaped between Elise and Junior. She may have been an immature version of the Godslayer, but she was still the Godslayer, and Junior was not a god. “It’s okay! He not a fallen angel—he’s some other kind of gaean. A gargoyle. He’s friendly.” Lincoln turned back to Junior. “Junior, I’d like you to meet my friend Elise. Elise, this is Junior. He traveled back in time with me. You can trust her—she’s safe.”
The gargoyle extended a hand.
Elise eyed him warily, but edged nearer like she couldn’t resist. “I’ve never seen anything like him.”
“You can talk right at him. He’s human on the inside. He can’t talk back, but he knows exactly what you’re saying.”
“Can I…?” She reached for him, and he stretched his wing out so that she could inspect the stony membrane. “James would kill to take a look at you. Even demons can’t just be animate stone.”
“Because he’s gaean,” Lincoln said. “We’re from the future, right Junior?”
The gargoyle grumbled and nodded.
“We didn’t mean to end up in this year,” he went on. “We were going to go further back and fix a wrong that has put Sophie in danger. We just want to find our friends and get where we’re meant to go.”
“That’s going to be more difficult than you think, even for creatures such as you.” The sound of Thom’s cool, timeless voice made Lincoln recall desert heat and darkened forests where eyes watched from the shadows.
The man sauntered up from the bank of the river.
Elise reacted instantly, swinging her sword at Thom.
Lincoln had barely glimpsed the high priest before he vanished. Thom reappeared on a park bench , and the witch no longer looked anything like a witch. His skin was colorless moonlight. His hair streamed behind him, black as ink. He wore nothing but a pair of leather pants slung low on his hips, and his bare feet were muddied by the soil underneath them.
Elise gave a roar and swung again, but Thom disappeared and reappeared behind her.
She spun. She stabbed.
He leaped back effortlessly, his toes only grazing the ground. He was near-weightless. Elise slashed and slashed again, advancing on him with the strength of pure rage, and he was always just inches away from the cutting edge.
He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. He vanished and reappeared beside the tree. “I’m not here to fight.”
“Then why were you trying to kill Lincoln earlier?” Elise advanced on him again.
“That was Yatai. I fear she is the one who has brought His unholy gaze upon this city.”
“Then who the hell are you?” she asked.
“Khet,” Lincoln said.
Surprise flashed through Thom’s black eyes. “Most know me as The Father, and you may call me that, Lincoln Marshall.” He turned to Elise and added, “You may call me Yatam. I am brother to Yatai. I am the one who’s going to help you kill her.”
Although the coven most often met in the dance halls downstairs, James did most of his spellwork upstairs in the apartment. He didn’t have enough supplies to build an infernal detection spell downstairs. He’d have to step outside the wards to get to his bedroom.
“I’ll go with you to watch your back,” Betty said.
James nodded. “Good. Thanks.” He meant it.
He’d never tried to prepare a spell with Betty alone before. She spent so much time chatting during coven meetings that she never contributed anything. One on one, she was different. She listened well, took orders, and was eager to learn. She’d actually been useful that evening—the last thing that James would have expected.
She went for the front entrance, but he stopped her. “We can slip out underneath the garage door,” he said. “I built a gate into the wards there, and we can let Elise know that we’re leaving.”
But when he took Betty into the smaller ballroom, he was unpleasantly surprised to find that Lincoln and Elise were already gone.
“Where did they go?” Betty asked, surprised.
Elise hadn’t warned James that she was leaving. Probably because she knew he’d want to go with her. “I’m sure they’re fine,” James said with conviction he didn’t feel. He opened the garage door enough for Betty to crawl underneath, and then followed. It was still raining outside.
When they reached the apartment upstairs, James could see it was not as immaculate as when he had left. Locusts had come through the wall-mounted air conditioning unit, and the survivors took flight when James opened the door. He couldn’t stand the sight of his home crawling with vermin. James ripped a piece of paper from his notebook and whispered a word of power. The walls shook. A photography print slid off the wall. It also set fire to the locusts, incinerating them instantly.
His bedroom was the master suite on the end, whereas Elise was moving out of the bedroom on the right—the one that still had her bed, clothes, and brass knuckles. James could faintly smell Elise’s hair when they walked past. He and his kopis had been living atop each other for years, long before they’d retired. Two bedrooms was a luxury compared to some of the cramped hostels they’d stayed at and the bridges they’d slept underneath.
When Elise announced she was moving out, she’d said it like she was doing a favor for James. “You’ll have room for more books,” she’d said.
Truth be told, he preferred having her close. He could be sure that Elise was taking care of herself that way. Without James, she sometimes forgot to eat, sleep, do laundry, and attend classes. Basic skills that members of society took for granted but which she had never developed. So the fact she was moving out should have been a point of pride. She thought that James didn’t want to do her laundry anymore.
He didn’t want to think about walking up that hallway without smelling Elise’s hair when he passed her door.
James did need more room for books. His bedroom could barely fit a queen bed between all the bookshelves. He’d repurposed the corner shelf for his altar. The chest underneath was where he kept most of his more valuable supplies.
Betty stuck by the door, studying his altar with interest. “You have a permanent ritual.”
He’d been lifting the lid on the chest when she said that, but it slipped from his fingers and banged into place. “How can you tell?”
“These aren’t random scratches.” She hovered her fingers a few inches above the surface of his altar. “T
hey look like random scratches, but I feel power coming off of them. Can I ask what this is?”
“You can ask, but I won’t tell you,” he said. “My apologies. It’s private.”
Betty dropped her hand. “You must be crazy powerful.”
She didn’t know the half of it. The permanent ritual that she had noticed was one of his own design, allowing him tighter control over his emotions. “I’m powerful, but it’s partially because Elise is special,” James said. “She is something called a kopis—someone born to slay demons. I’m her aspis, a witch bound to protect her, the shield to the sword. We’re both stronger for the bond.”
“That’s so cool.” Betty’s eyes scanned the books on the shelves as if seeing them in a new light. “So you really are like Giles.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It’s from a TV show.”
“I seldom watch TV,” he said.
“I know. I figured something weird was going on with you and Elise the instant that I heard you don’t watch TV. Who the heck doesn’t watch TV?” She was grinning, making a joke of it.
James couldn’t help but smile back. “How in the world are you having fun right now?”
“I know stuff like the ten plagues might be old hat for you guys, but it’s new to me. I’m in shock! Later, I’m going to think about this, warm and safe in my bed, and I’m going to completely lose my shit. Guarantee it.”
“It’s the only way to handle trauma in my experience.” He lifted the chest’s lid again, studying its contents. He’d use all of it. James beckoned Betty over. “I’ll need your help carrying this chest.”
Betty lifted one side of the crate, and James took the other, and they hauled it toward the stairs. Dead locusts crunched into the carpet under his feet. “So…are the ten plagues normal for you?” she asked.
“Not exactly normal, but also not unexpected. If Lincoln is right about what this is—and I’m still waiting for definitive evidence—then it’s officially the worst-case scenario.”
“Why? Elise has big enemies, but it’s not like she could be enemies with, what, God?” She laughed at the idea. Her laugh vanished when she saw that James wasn’t joining in. The blood drained from her face. “Holy crap. God?”
“Don’t say His name so freely,” James said. “You can never tell when He might be listening.”
Betty almost dropped her end of the chest. She pulled it back up again, and James opened the door behind him. When he stepped out, the wards sighed over him, and his skin tingled unpleasantly in their absence.
He ventured down the stairs, keeping the chest carefully suspended between himself and Betty. “While young, Elise was kidnapped and taken to the garden. She was meant to stay as human sacrifice for God,” he said. It was a truncated version of events—the only version he could bring himself to share.
“Then how’s she alive?” Betty asked.
“She convinced the cherubim guards to save her. Angels can’t help but fall in Fascination with Elise. Fascination is a phenomenon angels discovered when going to war on Earth. They can become completely obsessed with and devoted to mortals—a seemingly once-in-a-lifetime event, except that all angels love Elise.”
Including people with only a little bit of angel in their heritage.
People like James.
That was where a lot of her ability to kill came from. Metaraon had thought that if God loved Elise, He would be weaker against her. Maybe He was. It also meant that He’d spent years frantic, unable to think of anything except bringing her back to the garden where He could keep her as his bride.
They dropped the chest heavily.
“Angels and demons and gods.” Betty shivered in the rain. She was still just wearing that lacy pink swimsuit top.
“Here,” James said, taking off his sweater. He draped it over Betty’s shoulders, and she gave him a grateful smile. She was tall enough for the sweater to fit like it was made for her. She looked nerdier in wool, more like a scientist.
They got all the way around to the front lawn before they had stop again. Betty wasn’t very strong. She spent most of her time in front of microscopes and paperwork. Emotional readiness for the apocalypse didn’t mean physical readiness. But she waited with one foot up on the chest, her arms akimbo, and looked terribly heroic while James opened the wards again.
“What is that ?” she asked.
James followed her gaze to the roof of the studio—and beyond. There was form to the darkness, as if something large was moving fast. It must have been as big as a house. Bigger.
As it drew closer, he heard feet smashing the ground.
Hammers against pavement. Crushing trees. Smashing metal.
A lot of feet.
“Get inside,” James said.
“What is it?”
“Inside! Now!”
He swept a hand over the wards, blasting them apart. It was the only way to get the door open quickly.
But not fast enough.
A telephone pole smashed down next to Betty, flattening the bushes in front of Motion and Dance. Except that it wasn’t a telephone pole. It wasn’t made of wood or metal. It was something shiny and black, covered in hairs as thick as James’s finger.
Like an oversized spider leg.
The word spider had barely passed James’s mind before the leg moved again.
It swept forward, knocked into Betty, and sent her flying into the street. She hit the pavement limp and didn’t move.
13
L incoln felt like he was drenched in sweat, standing in the darkness of Idlewild Park. It stunk of copper pennies. The rain was getting warmer by the moment and he was starting to feel woozy.
Elise circled Yatam slowly, alert as ever. “You’re going to help us kill your sister? Why the hell would you want to do that?”
Yatam let her walk behind him. He relaxed with his hands folded behind his back. “A good question. Why, Lincoln, would I want to kill my sister?”
“I don’t know,” Lincoln said. “You love her.” He’d gotten that much from what he’d seen.
Elise looked between them warily. “What’s going on here?”
“Believe it or not, there are forces in this universe both older and more enduring than you,” Yatam said. “Lincoln and I are bound by a war that predates your life. He carries an important piece of soul.”
“That’s not possible,” Elise said. “Souls get broken down right after people die.”
“When gods die, some of the pieces that remain are big enough to matter. That’s how you get Remnants like Lincoln—a Remnant of a god called Inanna. It’s that Remnant that I’ll avenge.” Yatam clenched his fist. “Let me show you.”
He swept his fingers wide and waved, gesturing to something behind them.
Lincoln turned.
The Truckee no longer raged with blood. It was a broader river, glassy and smooth, with a golden city standing at its far edge. Elise and Junior were still there. Yatam was showing them Egypt. “This is where I made my greatest mistake.”
“Something happened to Anat, didn’t it?” Lincoln asked. He turned to Elise. “Anat was the Remnant.”
“My wife,” Yatam said.
He waved again, and the city engulfed them. Lincoln felt like he was really standing in the Temple of Maat. “I’ve been seeing some of this,” Lincoln said, grabbing onto Junior to steady himself. “Some of your…history. Feels like I’ve been dreaming it, but sometimes I’ve been awake.”
“I can only wonder why,” Yatam said. “I’m not the one triggering it.”
“Then what is?”
“Who can say in times like these? Forces have descended that are bigger than even I am.” He clutched his breast, briefly looking tired. “Perhaps it’s the world signaling that my end has come at last. My soul isn’t as significant as a god’s, but my history weighs upon the world.”
Elise hadn’t lowered her sword. “This is crazy.”
Yatam gave a little shake that
Lincoln recognized as a chuckle. “We live in a crazy world.”
The Temple of Maat swirled. When it settled again, they were in the nomarch’s manor. It was nighttime.
Nügua lounged in the gardens, alongside the pond, and trailed her fingertips in the water. She brightened at the sight of Yatam. “Khet, my love, come close,” she said, holding out a hand.
“This is a memory,” Yatam told Lincoln. “My memory. Watch.” He took Nügua’s hand and sat beside her, gazing at her sadly. “Why did you summon me, mother?”
“Can’t I desire to see my son?” she asked.
“You have seen my face more than a thousand nights,” he said.
“But you, in your mortality, grow and change each moment. There’s always something different for me to see. Look at you. The way that your skin darkens in sunlight and your hair lightens.” She must not have really been stroking her fingers over Yatam’s pate, but he tipped his head into her touch as though he could feel her.
“I will always be here for you,” Yatam said.
“But I won’t always be here for you,” Nügua said. “This body can be killed, and godhood will separate me from mortals. If I can ensure your ability to ascend to live beside me through the rest of time, wouldn’t it be foolish to resist?”
Yatam took her hand, kissing her fingers. “I’ve never wanted the power you hold. I am too enamored with the sun.”
“I know this.” She gazed at him as though he were her sun—the warmth upon her bloodless face, the beating of her shriveled heart. “My vampire mind will never forget the day I found you and your sister. You were so small, even for mortal humans. Your head was so round. Your cheeks…” She pulled his face down so that she could kiss him. “I bought you for a bag of beads, and I would be satisfied with the exchange if I’d paid the entire world for you two. I thought to spoil you in apology for my sins and instead found myself in love.”
“Mother, you talk as though your life is over,” Yatam said. He turned to Lincoln. “Her life is almost over. There are riots in the city. Dynasties are changing. It’s a dangerous time to be a woman who walks alone at night to lure husbands away from their wives.”