Cipher

by Larissa Ione

  But if they were a sneeze, Cipher’s former employer was the fucking swine flu.

  He allowed himself a dark smile at the knowledge that she was going to die even if it wouldn’t be at his hands.

  “You know you didn’t betray only me,” he said. “You betrayed Azagoth.”

  She tossed her head like a high-strung hell mare. “He’s powerless outside of his realm, and I don’t plan on returning.”

  That was where she was wrong. Dead wrong. Azagoth’s reach extended far beyond the boundaries of Sheoul-gra. He couldn’t leave his realm, but there was no corner of Heaven or Sheoul he couldn’t touch. With eons of knowledge and secrets gleaned from the souls he interrogated, he had resources beyond her comprehension.

  Not that Cipher would tell Flail that. She’d see for herself when she was pissing in those black leggings at Azagoth’s feet and begging for mercy.

  “Even if he doesn’t kill you, you’ll die eventually.” He breathed deeply as the pain in his chest eased. “Your soul will belong to him.”

  “Not if he’s no longer in charge of Sheoul-gra.”

  He barked out a laugh. “No longer in charge? You know something I don’t?”

  Azagoth had ruled Sheoul-gra for thousands of years, since the day he’d willingly given up his wings to create a holding tank for evil souls that were wreaking havoc on humans. He’d built Sheoul-gra and created its specialized demons, griminions, from the materials given to him by both Heaven and Sheoul. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I’m sure I know a lot of things you don’t.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “For example, I know that you’re going to give me the list Bael wants.”

  The fuck he was. The list containing the names and last known locations for all of Azagoth’s children, those who didn’t yet have angelic powers or knowledge that they were anything but human, was safe on his laptop. Bael might have his computer, but neither he nor his minions had been able to even open the case, let alone access the list inside.

  And there was no way he was giving it up to Bael. At least, not while he retained even a sliver of his current self. His fear, his crippling fucking fear, was that he’d succumb to evil and willingly spill all of his knowledge of Azagoth and his realm. Or worse, that he himself would be stupid and arrogant enough to use his knowledge against Azagoth.

  “Maybe you could tell me why he wants it,” he hedged.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Well,” he said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm, “since I doubt Bael wants the names and addresses of Azagoth’s children so he can send them birthday cards, then yeah, it matters.”

  She thought on that for a moment, toe tapping dramatically. Once upon a time, he’d appreciated her love of theatrics in bed, but right now it was getting on his nerves.

  Finally, she pasted on a smile. “Bael is planning to spoil them with ice cream and maybe a movie.”

  “Real sincere, Flail.” He rubbed his sternum absently, the curious tingle there adding to his irritation. “Try again.”

  “I’m not the one named for being a liar.”

  “Lyre? Kinda random to bring her up, but now that you do, I don’t trust her, either. But she only shoved me into a pit of flesh-eating demon fish. You got me dragged to Hell and destroyed my chances of getting back into Heaven.”

  “Pfft.” She nudged his foot with her toe like one might poke a dead thing they found in the woods. “Why would you want to go back there?”

  “Because,” he said as he kicked her away, “—and I can’t stress this enough—no one tortured me there.” And what the fuck was up with his sternum? It wouldn’t stop aching.

  “Give up the list and no one will torture you here either.”

  Something pinched. Hard. Jerking his hand from his chest, he looked down and drew a startled breath at the weird little ivory disk stuck there, a penny-sized piece of fuckery he was sure couldn’t be a good thing.

  “What. The. Hell.”

  “Isn’t it pretty? It’s an ascerdisc. Ever heard of one?”

  He had. His friends Hawkyn and Journey had shown him around Azagoth’s treasure room, and they’d told him it was a mysterious fallen angel weapon so rare that they believed it to be the only one in existence.

  He couldn’t keep the stunned note out of his voice. “You stole it from Azagoth?”

  “Oh, you simple fool. That’s not how they work. The ascerdisc in your chest was made from my bones, and I alone can control it. If Azagoth has one, it belonged to another fallen angel.” She smiled. “I’ll bet everything you think you know about them is wrong. Let’s see, shall we?”

  Oh, shit. This was not going to be a good time. But hey, if he ever saw Hawk and Journey again, at least he could rub in how wrong they’d been.

  Yup, as Hawkyn liked to say, Cipher could see the bright side of anything.

  Chapter Three

  Most of Journey’s thousands of adult brothers and sisters thought that spying on their charges was the worst part of being a guardian angel. Specifically, a wingless Memitim guardian angel, bred to live in the human realm as they worked to earn their wings and a place in Heaven. They’d rather be fighting demons or doing research than hanging out in an invisible bubble while their Primori went about their day-to-day lives. Some didn’t like feeling like voyeurs, but most were just bored out of their minds.

  For Journey, spying was the best part of the job. Depending on who he was spying on, of course. Of his current four Primori, only one kept him entertained. The others, two human scientists who sat around in labs all day, and a werewolf construction worker with no social life, were serious yawners.

  But he did have to admit to a twinge of shame for watching Declan as much as he did. The guy was his freaking brother-in-law. Which was actually how he justified staying so close. His sister, Suzanne, would be pissed if he let anything happen to the guy.

  But the truth was that Declan fought demons for a living with the Demon Activity Response Team, and there was always shit going on. It was even better than Live PD. Much, much higher stakes.

  And then there was the fact that his father had ordered him to stay close and listen closer. Azagoth had seen an opportunity to gain intel, and he’d been right. Even informal gatherings of DART members such as the one they were having now yielded tasty nuggets of information.

  He braced his hip against a wall and nearly stepped on the ferret that ran under his foot. It chattered at him, and he held his breath as the critter’s owner and a founding member of DART looked over from where she was seated at the dining room table with the others. Journey knew she couldn’t see him, but some animals could, and that noisy little weasel was clearly one of them.

  “Hey, buddy. You need to eat your dinner.” Tayla scooped up the animal and set him down in the kitchen of the luxury apartment she shared with her mate, Eidolon. She nudged its dish with her foot and turned to the guys at the table. “Anyone want a beer while I’m up?”

  There were three “no’s” and a silent “yes” from Journey.

  Arik Wagner, husband of Limos, the Horseman of the Apocalypse known as Famine, emphasized his “no” with a shake of his head as he tapped on his phone. “Did I tell you guys that Reaver came by the house last week?”

  Declan gave a low whistle. He’d only been introduced to the supernatural world recently, and the newness of it still left him awestruck at times. “Must be weird to have a Radiant as a father-in-law.”

  “You know what’s weird?” Tayla asked. “I knew Reaver back when he was a powerless Unfallen angel working at Underworld General Hospital. Now he and his brother are the most powerful angels in the universe.”

  Even weirder, Reaver’s brother, Revenant, ruled Hell even though he wasn’t technically a fallen angel.

  Arik gave Declan a sideways glance. “My father-in-law might be an angel, but yours is the Grim Reaper. Not sure you want to be calling my situation weird.”

  Declan laughed. “Yeah, but my father-in-law is releg
ated to his realm and can’t drop in anytime he wants.”

  “Good point,” Arik conceded as he looked back down at his phone. “But Reaver’s a great source of intel. When he was at the house he said he’d heard that some fallen angel named Bael is gathering Unfallens.”

  The very name made Journey bristle. Hawkyn suspected that Bael was behind Cipher’s abduction, but they hadn’t gathered any proof so far. And the bitch who’d deceived them all in order to gain their trust and get inside Sheoul-gra had disappeared without a trace and with Cipher’s laptop.

  “Bael?” Kynan Morgan’s battle-ravaged voice dipped even lower and rougher. “That’s not good.”

  Arik frowned. “I didn’t get a chance to ask Reaver about the guy. Who is he?”

  “Bael was one of Satan’s most trusted generals.” Tayla sank into her seat and wiped her finger over her iPad a few times before spinning it around to Arik. “This is a sketch of him. He and his brother Moloc fell from Heaven and remained loyal to Satan until Revenant and Reaver locked him away. Together, Moloc and Bael control about a quarter of Sheoul.”

  They also controlled a lot of souls, and Azagoth didn’t take kindly to those who denied what rightfully belonged to him. The cold war between Azagoth and the brothers had gone on for over a century, with both sides stepping up their aggressions recently.

  “Are they working for Revenant now?” Declan asked. His gaze skipped over to Journey, and Journey swore the guy looked right at him before turning his attention back to Tayla.

  “Unknown,” Kynan said. “My intel indicates that they’ve agreed to recognize him as the rightful ruler of Sheoul, so if Bael is gathering Unfallens, he’s doing it against Revenant’s edict.”

  Journey had only seen Revenant once, but it had been enough to know that he would be very careful about going against anything the guy said. As a Shadow Angel who had been tutored by Satan literally since birth, he was at the top of the food chain. His power eclipsed even Azagoth’s. Only a dipshit who wanted a scythe up the ass would cross him.

  “Oh,” Arik said as he glanced over at Declan. “Reaver also said something about Bael nabbing an Unfallen who worked inside Sheoul-gra. Thought you might want to tell Suzanne. Sounds like info Azagoth would want to know.”

  Journey’s pulse did an excited little kick. Arik had to be talking about Cipher. Had to be.

  Finally, a break.

  Declan leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “I just hope it’s news Azagoth wants to hear. He only yesterday reopened his realm to Memitim and a few Unfallen and fallen angels he trusts, and Suzanne said he’s still in a temper over the death of one of his young children inside his realm.”

  “I can’t believe anyone was stupid enough to infiltrate Sheoul-gra and kill a kid right under his nose,” Tayla said. “When he finds out who did it...” She let out a low whistle.

  Yeah, the general consensus was that Azagoth was going to go supernova on the bastard. All Memitim would. It was just last week that someone had snuck inside Sheoul-gra and slit the throat of a boy who hadn’t even grown into his powers yet. He’d been taken from the human realm to a place that should have been nothing but safety, and instead, he’d lost his life within days of arrival.

  Journey had no doubt that they’d learn the identity of the perpetrator, but for now he was just going to be happy that he had some information about Cipher.

  Feeling hope for the first time in months, he flashed himself to Sheoul-gra’s landing pad, and then he found Hawkyn and their brother Maddox exactly where he thought they’d be.

  In the kitchen scarfing the Red Devil’s Food Cake their sister Suzanne had promised to deliver this afternoon. Maddox had crumbs all over the front of his navy Rick and Morty T-shirt, and Hawkyn had smeared frosting on the sleeve of his leather bomber. Those two didn’t need a table, they needed a trough.

  “Yo,” he called out. “I got a lead on Cipher.” He skidded to a halt in front of them as they shoved their faces full of cake.

  “Holy shit,” Maddox mumbled through frosting. “You serious?”

  Journey reached for a plated slice. “I was checking in on Declan while he was meeting with some DART colleagues, and they were talking about the increase in Unfallens being dragged to Sheoul.”

  Hawkyn drained a can of cola in half a dozen swallows and popped a perfect two-pointer in the nearby garbage pail. “DART is a demonic activity response organization. They fight demons. Why would they even care about angelic issues?”

  Maddox gave Hawk a “duh” look. “Maybe because Declan’s married to a Memitim?”

  “Yeah, I get why he would be concerned, but what about the others?”

  “Arik was there,” Journey explained. “Reaver told him that Bael captured an Unfallen who worked in Sheoul-gra.”

  Hawkyn let out a nasty curse. “I knew it. That bastard.”

  “Bael?” Maddox let out a low whistle. “No one was tighter with Satan.”

  “Top tier evil,” Hawkyn acknowledged. He turned back to Journey, his emerald eyes bright with hope. “Did Arik say anything else? Did he have a name?”

  “No, but it has to be Ciph. No other Unfallen who worked for Father has gone missing.”

  “That’s awesome.” Maddox reached for the black leather duster and weapons belt slung over the counter. “Let’s get him.”

  “Easy there, Quick Draw.” Hawk shot Mad a “you’re kidding, right?” look. “Do you know how big Bael’s territory is? Even if we could access that part of Sheoul, we don’t know where Cipher’s being held.” He dug his phone from his jacket pocket. “Although I do have a crude map of Bael’s prison region somewhere...”

  “You sure Cipher’s being held?” Journey hated to even suggest it, but he’d seen what being exposed to evil did to people. “He could be with Bael voluntarily.”

  The temperature in the room dropped so low that Journey could see Hawkyn’s breath as he lifted his gaze from his phone’s screen.

  “Cipher would never betray us,” he said, his voice going as low as the temperature. “If he could be here, he would.”

  Hawk’s faith in his best friend was admirable, but Journey wasn’t so sure it was deserved. When an Unfallen entered Sheoul, the act completed his fall from Grace, allowing evil to fully penetrate. No matter how decent Cipher might have been as an Unfallen, evil was now a part of him. His new wings would be formed with it. His powers and abilities would all be tainted by it.

  But to what degree? That was always the question when it came to fallen angels. Most had malevolence seeping from their pores and they were giant, radioactive dickbags. But a few, usually those who were only recently fallen, weren’t half bad. Maybe if they got to Cipher in time, they could save him from the worst of it. Or at least hold it off for a few centuries.

  “Okay, man.” Journey held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Take it easy. I just wanna address the big, awkward demon elephant in the room, you know?”

  Hawkyn glared, but a moment later was back on his phone. “I’ve got the map, and I think I have a file that can help us.” He tapped on his phone as he spoke. “Last year Cipher probed the personal networks of about a dozen of Azagoth’s enemies to look for back doors into their security systems and tech.”

  Journey nodded excitedly, knowing where this was going. “I helped him with that. Bael was one of the targets.”

  “Tell me you guys breached his shit,” Hawkyn said.

  “We did.” Journey grinned at his brothers. “Boys, I think we can help Ciph.”

  Journey dove into his cake with an enthusiasm that had been missing since Cipher disappeared. They were finally going to help save their friend.

  But after seven months in a Hell realm, how much of Cipher would be left to save?

  Chapter Four

  “Say it, Cipher. Don’t make me have to hurt you again.”

  Cipher’s fiery curses didn’t melt any of the ice in his cell, but they made him feel better. Flail had spe
nt what felt like hours making him say stupid shit, because if he didn’t, she punished him through the bone ascerdisc embedded in his skin. Which was seriously gross.

  In any case, up until now he’d done what she wanted and said the stupid shit, avoiding major pain. But at some point she was going to stop toying with him and get serious about the torture.

  Still, this particular sentence was especially stupid, and he’d initially refused. His chest throbbed like a sonofabitch from that little act of defiance.

  “Cipher...”

  “Fine.” He rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “My dick is the size of a cocktail wiener.”

  When she giggled and clapped, he threw his head against the wall and looked up at the remaining hundreds of icicles hanging from the cavernous ceiling, some as big as he was.

  They hurt a lot when they fell.

  Too bad one didn’t fall on Flail.

  Carefully, he shifted his weight, keeping his wing anchors from supporting too much weight. The binding rope around the base of his new fallen angel wings, deep inside his back, hurt like hell. Any pressure was agonizing. The worst part about it was that he hadn’t even seen his wings yet. Bael had ordered them to be secured before they had a chance to emerge.

  “How long did it take you to break, Flail?”

  She blinked. “Break? No one broke me. After Heaven rejected me, I entered Sheoul willingly and proudly.”

  “Rejected you.” That was too absurd to waste a laugh on. “Next you’re going to say you’re innocent of whatever got you kicked out.”

  “I wasn’t innocent in the least,” she said, her words clipped with irritation. “But it was still bullshit. I mean, so I killed a few humans without permission. So what? Most of them were scum. What happened to me was completely unfair.”

  “Unfair?” Was she insane? “Killing humans without cause or authorization is the worst offense on a long list of offenses—by far. You broke the number one rule, and you’re surprised that you lost your wings?”