"They've breached the compound. It's a Cabal. Or all the Cabals. I don't know." The young man's voice rose as he spoke.
I slid up behind her, as if trying to hear better. Adam followed.
"Cool it," Sierra said. "Have you activated the doors?"
"We're doing that now," said the guy on the radio. "The van was driving up, and they saw dozens of them, and they called it in, but then the Cabal guys saw them and opened fire and they're dead. They're all dead!"
"Okay, you need to--"
I grabbed the radio and backpedaled as Adam leaped between me and Sierra.
"Relax," I said, emulating Sierra's bark. "You need to relax. Everything's under control. This is all part of the plan. Do not interrupt Giles."
A screech of pain. I looked up to see Adam grappling with Sierra, his fingers glowing. Severin had jumped from his chair. It crashed to the floor.
"What's--?" the voice on the other end began.
"Hold your fire," I said. "Everything's under control."
I snapped off the radio as Severin ran at Adam. I cast a binding spell. It didn't work. I could feel the power surge, but nothing happened. The room was warded. Our glamours had stayed intact. Apparently we just couldn't cast in a warded area.
I lunged at Severin. His fingers latched onto my arm. I felt a blast of cold. Then agony as my flesh began to freeze. I managed to punch him in the stomach hard enough to make him let go. Then I kicked his feet out from under him and--
A grinding noise across the room stopped me. I looked over to see a steel door sliding over the entrance into the auditorium.
Back at the laboratory in New Orleans, when they sounded the alarm, they'd sealed off the infirmary with a solid steel door, one Jeremy's strength and Adam's fire couldn't breach.
I ran. There was still enough of a gap to get through--
Severin grabbed my leg. He yanked me down. Then he held me there, fingers biting in, the cold so excruciating that I howled.
Adam stopped grappling with Sierra and threw her aside. He dove at Severin and caught his leg.
"Let her go," he said, his voice a rumble, eyes glowing.
Severin gasped. He could feel the fire blazing. He didn't let go, but as Adam wrenched at him, feeling returned to my leg, fire melting ice.
I kicked Severin off and hobbled to the door as Lucas came back on the comm link, telling me they were now in the building.
The steel door was closed. I glanced at the video. Inside, the audience had heard the doors sealing.
"For your protection," Giles said smoothly. "Mr. Scott is just about to begin the ritual."
He must know what had happened, but he wasn't letting it interfere with his summoning. I quickly updated Lucas.
Adam and Severin were on their feet, facing off. Sierra bore down on them. I leaped in her way and let my glamour fall.
Sierra glowered at me. "You stupid little bitch. Haven't you learned your lesson about interfering?"
"Yes," I said. "I learned that I owe Balaam some payback for his interfering at the Nasts. Starting by taking out two of his faithful servants before they can interfere."
"Do you have any idea how pissed off he's going to be?" Severin said.
"Yeah, we do," Adam said. "But my father's just as pissed off with him, so we'll let the two of them duke it out."
They turned to Adam. His glamour was gone, too, and he lifted his glowing hands.
As Sierra rushed me, I rushed her right back. That caught her off guard, and she checked herself, giving me time to plow into her and knock her flying. As she came back swinging, I remembered her fight with Clay, her pattern, the simplistic moves.
Well, at least you were doing something useful, I imagined Clay drawling.
I ducked her first blow. Dodged her second. Caught her third. Two out of three ain't bad. Of course, it would have been even better if, by that third, she wasn't so furious that it felt like being hit with an ice-blast ray. My shirt absorbed some of the cold. It flash froze, actually, a big chunk at the shoulder shattering. One glance at that hole--and imagining my skin there instead--made me a whole lot more careful. And a whole lot more angry.
I got in a kick followed by an uppercut. That knocked her down. As she scrambled up again, I hit her with a solid kick. She flew back. I jumped on her, grabbing her forearms before she could touch me. Severin saw his sister down and stopped fighting Adam, coming for me instead. A punch stopped him. Adam made sure he stayed stopped. He didn't even bother disarming his ice-powers, just grabbed both his hands. There was a sizzle, like water on a griddle. When he let go, we had one melted ice-demon. His powers would take a while to recharge. A long while, I hoped.
Severin may have been a decent fighter. Maybe even as good as Adam. But he relied too much on his powers, and when they were gone, he reacted a lot as I had. He was thrown off his game--distracted and unable to gather himself for a real fight. Adam bound him. Then he melted Sierra's ice and we tied her up with her brother.
"You know Balaam's going to set us free," Sierra said.
"Funny. He hasn't yet," I said. "I think he's given you two enough chances."
"Never," she said. "He'll come for us."
"And your point?" I said as I eased back. "That we should kill you?"
"No, her point is that's it's not too late to fix this, Savannah," Severin said. "Balaam is going to win. Whether you win, too, depends on whether you're on his side. You still have a chance. Join him and--"
I silenced him with a gag.
EVE
Eve strode up the steps to the afterlife courthouse, with Trsiel right behind her. The guards moved in to tell her it was closed. Then they saw the sword--and Trsiel--and knew she wasn't coming to look for her lawyer lover this time. They parted to let them through.
"Ukobach?" she said as they passed.
"Cell 24-D," one of the guards replied. "Is there anything we can--?"
"We've got it."
Trsiel slowed to murmur his thanks. Eve shook her head. Precious time wasted, not just on the civilities, but on what always followed--the guards practically prostrating themselves because a full-blooded angel deigned to speak to them. At least they realized he was a full-blood. Some didn't. It was his own fault really. He wore his sword on his back and dressed in casual, modern clothing. If you missed the faint glow of his skin, there was no sign he was an angel until he spoke and that melodious, compelling voice gave him away.
As Trsiel extricated himself, Eve continued down the hall. Past the courtrooms. Take a left. Down the stairs. A right. Another left. Trsiel caught up. By now they were past all the guards, so Eve snapped the blur spell and Kristof appeared beside them. While they could have insisted he be allowed in, bringing a lawyer would have signaled that they were up to something.
"There's 24-D," she said, gesturing at a cell. "But we really want . . ."
"Thirty-two-B," Kristof said. "They're holding Raim in 32-B."
The guards would never have let them in if they admitted they were here to see Raim. He was an earl in Lucifer's court. Several angels had "rescued" him as he was being interrogated by Balaam's demons, who were certain he knew where his liege was hiding. He was now being held as a prisoner of war, mostly so neither side could use him to find Lucifer. The Fates would prefer that particular lord demon stayed out of this fight.
Kristof leaned over, his hand brushing hers, voice dropping. "We'll get back to Indiana as soon as we can."
She nodded and gave his hand a quick squeeze. They'd been helping Lucas and the others at the compound when the message came. One of Kristof's informants told him that Raim was being held in the afterlife cells. Trsiel had offered to handle it alone, but interrogation really wasn't his thing. Years spent working with Eve meant he was fine with sneaking Kristof into the cells or lying about their destination, but getting information from Raim could require a little more deception than his nature allowed. So they'd zipped off, alerting Jaime to call them back if there was a crisis.
Eve opened the door to 32-B. Inside, it looked like little more than a closet. An empty closet.
"Ready?" she said.
Kristof nodded. "Right behind you."
"I'll wait here," Trsiel said, taking up a position outside the door. "But you call me in if you need help."
"I will."
Eve took a deep breath, then stepped into the cell. Light flashed, stuttering like a broken bulb. Her stomach lurched as the ground disappeared beneath her feet. Then came a jolt as she touched down so fast her knees buckled. Damn dimensional jumps. They were jarring at the best of times, but the ones into the dimensional holding cells were the worst, as if the Fates didn't want to spare decent magic on mere prisoners.
Someone shrieked. Eve gripped her sword and looked around. Everything was still bright white. Another shriek--one of laughter, not terror.
Eve blinked hard as she took a few cautious steps forward. The light dimmed and she could make out what looked like a dining room. Folding tables had been added to extend the seating to twenty. Unmatched tablecloths, but it didn't matter because every inch of them seemed covered with plates or food. Enough food for an army of imps. Turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce . . .
The table was jam-packed with people, too. Residuals--ghosts who weren't really there, just replaying on a loop. At least twenty adults, talking and bickering and laughing, a dozen kids racing around, a dog following them, barking.
"Thanksgiving," she murmured.
"Torture, that's what it is," a voice rumbled.
"Plenty of people would agree with you." Eve stepped forward and pointed to a teen, his face contorted with pained boredom as an elderly aunt peppered him with questions. "I'm sure he would."
"I'm glad you are amused," the voice replied. "Have the Fates forgotten that the torture of war criminals is a serious offense?"
"I'm pretty sure the infliction of Thanksgiving isn't covered under the Geneva convention."
She peered around. The demon was nowhere to be seen. Not surprising, really. On these planes, they rarely took form. But Raim was here. She could feel the hot wind of his presence rushing past.
"The noise never stops," Raim said. "They talk and talk and talk. Except when they're shouting. Or shrieking. Or . . ." His voice quivered, as if he was shuddering. "Laughing."
"Hey, be glad you didn't get the dimensional holding cell down the block. It's a circus. With mimes." She took another step. "Do you know who I am?"
"Eve, Daughter of Balaam. So your father finally swayed you to his side?"
"Nope, I'm still on my side, as usual."
A soft chuckle, cut short as he said, "If you've come to find my liege, I'll tell you what I told your father's minions. I don't know--"
"Yes, you do. And you're going to tell us."
"Or what? You'll make the dog bark louder?"
"No. If you tell us, and we find Lucifer, we'll help you get out of here."
"A prison break? How charming. Will you dig the tunnel? Or is that the Nasts' job."
"It's a joint effort. We can't break you out, obviously. But if you tell us where to find Lucifer, Kristof will present and defend your case, free of any chits or charges. I'll speak on your behalf, make up some story about how you helped me on a previous case, blah-blah. It's not a guarantee, but it's better than anything else you'll get."
"And in return, I'll hand over my liege lord?" He laughed. "Not likely, mortal."
"Kristof and I only want to speak to him. That will go in the contract. We'll tell no one else where he is. We've come to you and put forward a case that made you decide this meeting was in your liege's best interests, so you agreed, under very strict conditions. You can tell him that we tortured you into confessing."
It took a little more convincing, but Raim was reasonable. He'd help as long as they provided an ironclad contract, which Kristof already had prepared. A few quick amendments, a blood oath, and they were off, with Lucifer's whereabouts in hand.
They left Trsiel behind. That wasn't the plan--at least, not the part he knew about. He'd be furious, but it was the right thing to do. Eve had asked him to do enough already. If there was fallout from this, it would land squarely on her shoulders.
Getting to Lucifer was easier than Eve expected. He wasn't surrounded by his legions. He wasn't even surrounded by his inner court. That made sense, she supposed--it was hard to hide an army, and even the inner court would expect all their attendants to come along. There was none of that. Just Lucifer, alone in the mountains.
"Mount Nebo," Kristof said as they finished climbing from their teleport drop-off. "Fitting, I suppose."
"Is it?"
"From the stories of Moses. The Israelites were still wandering and ran out of water. God told Moses to speak to a rock. In frustration, Moses struck it instead and was, as punishment, forbidden to enter the Promised Land. He could only glimpse it from the top of Mount Nebo."
"A little harsh, don't you think?"
"Lucifer would doubtless agree. The fallen angel. Cast out when he challenged God's will."
"Do you believe that?" Eve asked.
Kristof shrugged and wiped dirt from his hands. "I believe most legends have some basis in fact."
At the top of the mountain, they found an excavated church. If she crossed over to the other side of the veil, she was sure it would be filled with tourists. But on their side it was still and empty, the wind whispering past, bringing a sprinkle of sand with each gust.
They walked inside and found a lone figure hunkered down, staring into a mosaic-lined pool of water.
"Huh," Eve said as they approached. "You know what's a really good way to fight the apocalypse? Meditate."
The figure rose and turned, and Eve's breath caught. From the back, she'd thought it was a demon taking human form, as they often did. But then she saw his face, the faint glow of his skin and his eyes.
An angel, she thought. He really is an angel.
An angel with a ruined face. That's what made her breath catch. Lucifer's skin was pitted and scarred, some of them white with age, others angry red. Only the skin around his eyes was untouched.
"Lucifer," she murmured.
He smiled and it was a strange smile, not what she'd expect from either angel or demon. There was no anger in it. No outrage. No arrogance. And that's what really threw her off balance. All lord demons were arrogant, and the same could be said for most angels.
She stood there, gripping her sword, her rehearsed speech flying from her mind.
"She needs you," Eve blurted at last.
"I know."
"Hope, I mean. Your daughter. She--"
"I know."
He glanced back toward the pool. Kristof took a step closer and nodded. Eve followed and saw what he did--that it was a scrying pool, and in its depths was Hope, in a wheelchair, bound and pregnant.
Eve spun on Lucifer. "And you're just watching? Your daughter--and your granddaughter--are being threatened. Threatened with death if you don't come, and you sit on your mountain and watch?"
"Yes."
"You--"
"What else would you have me do, Eve?" Lucifer said. "Go down there and give Gilles de Rais what he wants? Do you even know what he wants from me?"
"No idea."
A faint smile. "Then that makes two of us. I suspect, like your father and Asmondai, he only wants me to side with him as a figurehead. A mascot, even. De Rais's people know my name, as they do not know the names of a legion of other demons. If the mighty Lucifer bows to him, it will prove he is all powerful. His followers will fall in line. They'll help him release that virus. Is that what you want?"
"No. I want you to stop him."
"How?"
She stepped toward him, sword glowing as she clenched it. "How?"
"Yes, how. You know my daughter. What are her powers?"
"Visions. She's a chaos bloodhound."
The barest hint of a smile. "An apt description. Yes, that's her power. That's mine, too, on a much
greater scale, and without the side effects she suffers. When I was cast out, they stripped me of my angel powers and gave me that. So tell me, now that Hope is in serious danger, how can her powers help her?"
When Eve didn't answer, he said, "They can warn her, but it's too late for that, just as it was too late for me to warn her. As for offensive powers, she has none. I have none."
He looked into the pool. "I could go down there and possess Jasper Haig, but he's trying his best, and I couldn't do better. I would possess Gilles de Rais if I could, but it turns out his experimentation with immortality has made him impervious to that. I could possess my daughter, but that would do little good, except to save her from her fear. I would do that--I would gladly do that--but she stands more chance of surviving without me in her head. She's bright and resourceful, as is everyone else trying to help her." He glanced at her. "As is your daughter. Which is your primary concern."
Eve didn't argue. She wanted nothing to happen to Hope--or anyone else--but she wouldn't lie. Savannah was her priority.
"Nothing I can do will help my daughter or yours," he said. "I can only watch and have faith in my child." He met her gaze. "Do you have faith in yours?"
"Yes."
"Then do not waste time haranguing me. Your place is down there, with your child. Mine is here, watching mine."
He turned back to the pool and crouched again, staring into its depths. Eve turned to Kristof. He dipped his chin. Telling her Lucifer was right. There was no divine intervention here. It was up to them--to Hope, to Savannah, to all of them.
FORTY-SIX
As Adam and I finished securing Severin and Sierra, Elena and Clay burst into the room. They were still dressed in the guard uniforms, but their glamours were gone, snapped by Lucas so they wouldn't be shot by the Cabals.
"There's a door to the auditorium right there," I said, pointing. "But it's sealed. It's made of the same stuff as the doors at the lab. Adam couldn't incinerate it and Jeremy couldn't bust it down."
"But I can burn the walls," Adam said.
"Find a good spot," Elena said, kicking Sierra aside as she crossed the room. "We need to come out in the wings, where Giles won't see us. Or he'll use that."
I followed her finger to the screen. Giles stood beside Hope. His right hand gripped a knife, hidden, out of sight of the audience.
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