Angel's Roar: Feathers and Fire Book 4

by Shayne Silvers

  “So, what is this Ring of Aandaleeb?” I asked Nameless, walling off my thoughts, not particularly sure what Angels could and couldn’t do. Or Nephilim, for that matter. I wanted to see how open Nameless was with me. I could always google the ring when I got home, but I wanted to test him. It would determine the course of events over the next few days. Then there was Phix’s bizarre riddle…

  “Everyone leave. Except Alyksandre,” Nameless said.

  “And Kevin,” Claire chimed in, glancing back at the Nephilim, not looking remotely concerned with the fact she was attempting to command both an Angel and a Nephilim. “An ass like that was made by God for my viewing pleasure,” Claire admitted with an easy shrug.

  Chapter 21

  I coughed into my fist, noticing Nameless’ darkening glare. “That will be all, Kevin. Thank you,” the Angel commanded.

  Claire sighed longingly. Kevin looked torn between smiling back and obeying his master.

  Soon we were alone with Alyksandre in the room, who was motioned to approach the desk and pull up a chair. He didn’t sit. Just stood beside the desk, eyes alert for dangers, choosing duty over comfort, although I figured with us four in the same room, any bad guys would be in for a long night at the hospital.

  Or a quick trip to the morgue.

  Nameless pulled out a slip of paper with a familiar drawing on it. Two interwoven triangles, one with the point down and the other with the point up, forming a six-pointed star – the same one I had seen at the Catacombs. The interwoven aspect made the image startlingly different from the typical Star of David that most people recognized. This wasn’t a flat, two-dimensional, six-pointed star of solid lines. This was a three-dimensional rendition of two different triangles woven together so that one line of triangle A would intersect above a line on triangle B, but then cross below triangle B on the second leg. A small difference that wouldn’t be noticed from a distance, yet it was clear up close.

  “The Seal of Solomon,” Nameless murmured. He pointed at the downward pointed triangle. “This represents water.” Then he pointed at the triangle pointing upwards. “And this, fire.”

  He checked to make sure we were following.

  “Many consider this symbol to be a protection against evil spirits. The interwoven nature of the two triangles was believed to trap, contain, and control demons – rendering them harmless to mortals. Like a maze, confusing any demon who stared at it, let alone one trapped within its lines.”

  Claire blinked. Then she turned to me. “You mean you didn’t have to go all badass against the demons? You could have just drawn one of these fancy stars?” she asked, frowning doubtfully.

  Nameless sighed. “A little more complicated than that, but essentially, yes.”

  “Okay,” I said, thinking. “And it was on one of the walls in the Templar Vault. So… they had a demon trapped down there?” I hadn’t sensed anything from my boots down there, so it had probably been freed at some point.

  But Nameless shook his head. “No demon. The Templars worshipped this symbol. And the man who created it.”

  “Let me guess,” Claire said, leaning back. “King Solomon.”

  Nameless was nodding. “We believe – based on the evidence found at the Vault – that the Templars of old had hidden King Solomon’s signet ring – the Seal of Solomon – there long ago.”

  I turned to Alyksandre. “That’s the object of power you were tracking. This Seal.”

  “Also known as the Ring of Aandaleeb,” he said. “One and the same.”

  I studied the drawing, thinking over the conversation. “The Templars probably found it, took it, and left,” I finally said, shrugging. “And you just said we don’t have a demon running amok.”

  “Nailed it,” Claire commented, folding her arms.

  Nameless leaned forward, voice very low. “It doesn’t just ward against demons. It traps them. Contains them…”

  My stomach felt hollow all of a sudden. “It has demons inside it? Right now?”

  Nameless nodded. “And possibly held by a zealot-turned-werewolf who commands the Templars. A commander who has granted himself immunity from his own judgments… I fear his true intentions.”

  I considered it, tapping my lips. What kind of trouble could Olin get into with this Ring? Would he dare risk releasing a demon? Why would he? And was he even strong enough to do that? And why was Nameless overly concerned? He was an Angel. Couldn’t he just turn them all into pillars of salt?

  Then it hit me, and I slowly looked up at him. The tightness around his eyes told me the truth. “Demons… are just one flavor of Angel,” I whispered.

  Claire frowned at my comment, turning to look at the silent Angel behind the desk. Nameless finally nodded, ever so slowly. “The symbol doesn’t have the same power over me as it would a demon, however the Seal itself is powerful enough to trap an Angel – Fallen or otherwise…” he admitted, eyes very cold.

  “But this thing isn’t new. It’s been around for a while. Although missing, sure. What is your sudden interest in it? You said you’ve been searching for it for a while, now, but only just confirmed the Templars were in town.”

  Nameless sighed, as if hoping I wouldn’t have come to this question for quite some time. “I… wish to interrogate some of the prisoners trapped inside.”

  I blinked at him, eyes widening.

  Alyksandre – although motionless – went so still that he may as well have had a heart attack. But being a good little Nephilim soldier, he didn’t offer his opinion on the matter.

  Nameless nodded. “Something is coming to Kansas City. I sense a… finality in the air. I don’t know if that means the threat is imminent or some time off, but we need answers – to know what they are planning. To know that two demons came after you, and that you somehow managed to defeat them by yourself – although astounding – is unacceptable. True, we should have been on the same side, and that fault lies on my shoulders. But maybe if I knew then what I know now, I might have been wise enough to see you as an ally rather than a foe.”

  He leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted.

  “That…” I finally let out a low whistle, leaning away from the table. “Wow. And you haven’t told them,” I said, thinking back on how he had made the other Nephilim leave the room. “And I had thought you were set in your ways. You might be the most progressive Angel ever.”

  He nodded tightly. “Now you see the full picture. Even my own brothers attempt to stop me. Either… for their own selfish desire to do the same, or because they cannot see what comes, refuse to see what comes.”

  I nodded absently. “How very… human of them,” I said softly, not trying to offend Nameless, but to let him know I was well familiar with his plight.

  Something about his troubled eyes suddenly made me feel uncomfortable, especially when they pinned me to my chair. “Those demons found you, Callie. Even after a lifetime of hiding, they were still able to find you. Still wanted to find you. We discussed the unique powers at your disposal. How dangerous they are,” he said carefully, referring to the Whispers – which he had warned me could be either Demonic or Angelic.

  I nodded, a sickening sensation building in my stomach. “I’m managing, thank you. I’m more concerned about the shiny ring that lets anyone waltz up and trap an Angel. That is way too much power in the hands of one person—”

  “Unless you are as wise as the fabled Solomon,” Alyksandre spoke in a gravelly voice, sounding as if the thought had just struck him. “The only one able to control its influence.”

  But Nameless was still staring into my soul as he spoke. “It is too much power for one person or being… and usually burns up anyone trying to control it…”

  Alyksandre slowly lifted his head, frowning thoughtfully at Nameless. Noticing his boss’ attention was on me, he frowned harder. Then he flinched, taking a step back, turning from me to Nameless in rapid succession.

  “Nope. I’m not Solomon,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t even have
a casual acquaintance with wisdom.”

  “No one ever said you did,” Claire offered helpfully.

  “I’m not related to Solomon,” I clarified, my breath quickening. But even as I said it, I realized the flawed logic. I didn’t have a single idea who or what I was. All I knew was that my mother had been a wizard named Constance, and I had a Nephilim father.

  Nameless shrugged. “Are you so sure? Because I see a Nephilim with powers she shouldn’t be able to control – powers not granted to any Nephilim I have ever met…” he let his words echo in the small room. Claire’s mouth hung open as she stared at me. I could hardly blink, let alone speak. “It would explain why everyone has been so interested in you.”

  “I… no,” I said, shaking my head, feeling dizzy. “No way. Something like that would be recorded…” I said weakly.

  “Your lineage may be in question. I have no proof to this theory, but…” he tapped the symbol on the paper, “I am confident your unique powers give you protection from the Seal’s dangers.”

  “And…” I said after a few moments, connecting the dots. “You need my help to do what you intend…” I whispered. “To interrogate the imprisoned demons.”

  He nodded. Not victoriously. Not angrily. But…

  Sadly. Empathetically. “I believe so, although maybe not. Angels do not have the power to control the ring, to abuse it – lest we would be able to control each other, but perhaps we could speak through it. To have you as a translator, of sorts.” He held up his hands in the universal I don’t know gesture. “I would like you there, just in case. Maybe you should spend some time brushing up on your… gifts.”

  I stood, walking away from the desk, pacing anxiously, trying to control my breathing. I couldn’t be related to Solomon. That was impossible. But… I did have the Whispers. The Silvers. Were they the same thing? Or was one of them related to this power, this immunity, that Nameless might need? Or maybe it was the two in tandem that gave me the unique chance.

  Except my mind kept drifting to the Whispers – the Angelic and Demonic influences that frequently spoke to me. How I had to keep them at bay, control them.

  Probably like I would have to do if wearing this Seal. Listen, but keep them at a safe distance.

  “Why? This doesn’t make any sense. Why would I have anything to do with this?”

  He just shrugged.

  But what if his crazy plan to water-board demons… wasn’t so crazy? I could help put a stop to this impending demon incursion before it ever happened… That would keep my city safe. My friends in St. Louis safe. I could stop a war.

  I stared at Nameless, facing him directly. I relaxed my control on my Whispers, hoping for some guidance or input. They were oddly still, as if listening. Or they weren’t paying attention.

  Damn it.

  I let out a sigh. “I need to think on this. We don’t even have the Seal yet, anyway. But… yeah. I’ll need to think on something like this.”

  Nameless nodded. “Take your time. I had hoped to earn more of your trust before mentioning this. I only recently connected the pieces – that your unique abilities and the enemies you have attracted might be part of the same element. The solution to my problem in the first place.”

  I nodded, feeling numb.

  Luckily, Claire had driven us over here, because I was pretty sure I couldn’t have made a Gateway at that moment. I could barely put one foot in front of the other as I left with Claire, feeling Alyksandre’s eyes on the back of my neck.

  Chapter 22

  I had taken a glorious nap, because Claire had threatened to sit on me otherwise. It was early afternoon when I awoke, although it felt like I had slept for a week. Both in the fact that I now felt more relaxed and rested, and…

  That I had woken from a coma and that the world might have caught fire in the interim.

  The panic hit me like a fist to the gut about ten seconds after I woke up, shattering my smile.

  Luckily, Claire had been curled up on the couch in my fluffy pink robe, ready to calm me down. She’d had hot chocolate already poured for me and had Fist of Legend – the Jet Li version – paused on the TV at the opening fight scene.

  Upon seeing me, she smiled, clicked play, and patted the seat next to her.

  I lost myself in the fight sequences of the movie, marveling at the choreography until it distracted me enough to think more rationally and to relax.

  I muted the screen and turned to Claire, shifting my jacket to the side since something sharp was poking my neck. A buckle or something.

  “You better?” Claire asked, smiling encouragingly.

  I let out a breath. “I guess,” I murmured, staring at the apartment upside down as my head hung over the top of the couch. The place was a mess – discarded clothes on chairs, empty cups and a dirty bundle of fabric on the table… I blinked, turning to peer over the couch at the bundle.

  Then I stood, scooping it up. I hefted it in my palm with a sudden smile.

  “I may just be a crazy cat lady queen, but I can do this,” I told Claire. “This is normal.”

  She frowned at the fabric and the broken glass inside from last night in the alley. “It’s really not that normal,” she said, frowning.

  I scowled at her and brought it back to the table, unfolding it to reveal the pieces of blue-stained glass we had picked up from the alley.

  I moved them around with my fingers absently, thinking. “I’ll need to do some tests, but Roland taught me enough to possibly track where it came from.” I moved a few more pieces of glass. “I think.”

  Claire reached out, inspecting a few of the pieces, her nose bunched up at the noxious smell she had told me about. I still smelled only the earthy scent, so I stood from the couch, scanning my apartment. Did I have what I needed for the spell here? If not, I could always hop over to the training area beneath Abundant Angel Catholic Church – even though I didn’t work there anymore, I had helped gather the ingredients in the storage closet—

  Claire grunted, sounding surprised. “Maybe we should just go to this address.”

  I spun, turning to face her. “What?”

  She held out one of the larger pieces of glass. “It’s got an address stamped on it. Must be from the bottom of the bottle, or whatever this used to be.”

  I frowned at her. “Who the hell brands their glass?”

  Claire shrugged. “An old company?” She inspected it closer, pinching her nose. “All I can make out is the address. No company name. But it’s here in Kansas City.”

  I shook my head. “Too easy. Maybe it’s a trap. Or the woman bought it at an antique store and used it to make… magic blue Kool-Aid.”

  Callie squinted up at me, setting the offensive glass back on the table. “You just want to do your ritual thingy.”

  I folded my arms stubbornly. “That’s not fair.” To be honest, rituals and spells like this weren’t really my forte. I could do them, but I wasn’t great at them. Roland had always insisted upon prioritizing self-defense, stating that there were other easier ways to find information when necessary. Or perhaps that we would be guided where we needed to go if necessary.

  Well, I hadn’t ever received any texts from God, so I probably should have paid more attention in his introductory lessons.

  Fact was, I wasn’t sure going to the address would do any good. The glass could have just as easily been left behind by the pursuers, not the woman. But… Claire hadn’t sensed anything magical about them, so what was the harm in chasing down the lead? Maybe we would catch the guys, at least. Give them a talking to.

  “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

  She grinned. “You will grant me estates and titles when you resume your throne, Solomina.”

  I winced. “I’m fresh out of both estates and titles to grant. And that is a horrid name. Where is this obvious trap set?” I asked her, shrugging on my coat and pocketing a few weapons lying about the apartment – two wooden stakes resting in the candle holder in place of candles, a set of sil
ver knuckle dusters, and the pistols I had picked up at an antique store years ago. Matching Glock something or others.

  They went pew pew when I pulled the trigger, which was all I really cared about.

  Because sometimes guns were better. Shots were loud and could be heard from far away, and the familiar sound usually brought the police down upon the source of the noise. It also alerted any nearby innocents with a familiar sound of danger. Rather than seeing fireballs and bolts of lightning raining down out of a clear sky, inciting a panic, they could mentally process a gunshot and know they should probably run or call 911.

  I shoved the pistols in the shoulder holster Claire had tried on yesterday, readjusting it to fit me again. Then I glanced at Claire who was still in my fluffy pink robe, legs curled up beneath her on my couch. I arched a brow at her. “Aren’t you going to change?”

  She shrugged. “I’m just going to shred what I wear, and I don’t want to ruin another set of clothes. I think I’m all out of spares here.”

  “So, you’re going to wear my pink robe to a potential monster brawl.”

  “The element of surprise…” she said, standing from the couch and stretching lazily.

  I sighed. She kind of had a point. And it would be hilarious if we found nothing dangerous and she was forced to assist me in questioning people while wearing my fluffy robe.

  I decided I didn’t want to talk her out of it. But I did want to talk to Gunnar Randulf – the Alpha werewolf of St. Louis, and Nate Temple’s best friend – to see how he handled the shredded clothes situation. Except, most men were shit when it came to clothing, so I would ask his wife Ashley instead.

  Claire read off the address, tightening the robe’s sash like it was armor. I knew the general location,but needed to find a less populated area nearby. It wouldn’t do to open up a Gateway in the middle of a crowd, in plain sight of everyone.