by Karen Duvall
I shot a furtive look at Gavin, whose solemn stare made him appear more patient than I think he was. The tightness around his frigid blue eyes told me that much.
Still kneeling, I bowed in supplication to the angel I summoned. If the Fallen were as arrogant as I guessed, submissive behavior might get me noticed. A flutter of nerves ran up my spine and ice coated the pit of my stomach. Anticipation had every hair on my body standing at attention. “Barachiel, it is your blood I shed. I summon you to the mortal plane, to the human side of the veil, so that I might know the one who spawned me.”
There was an immediate change in the mirror’s surface. The blood and ash began to bubble, and steam rose in long streamers to twirl and spin, expand and contract. It was a lot like watching the formation of a cyclone, only far slower and at a fraction of the size.
I sensed tension from the others and only then noticed that flesh-and-blood Aydin had joined them. He stood calmly at the edge of the circle, hands clasped in front of him, his strong, handsome face angled toward me with his eyes focused intently on what rose from the mirror.
A series of colorful sparks burst within the swirling steam. The sconces on the wall sputtered before flickering out completely, but the light show at the center of the pentagram threw off enough illumination to make up for any loss of light. I set the mirror down on the ground in front of me and took a cautious step back. I blinked against the brightness and threw up my hands to shield my eyes.
A figure began to take shape. It stretched its enormous wings, black feathers gleaming with reflected light from inside the spiral.
The angel’s body was human in appearance and so pale that it glowed in the darkness. He wore a short black tunic belted at the waist with what looked like a silver rope. I had to tilt my head back to gaze up into a face of frozen white marble, its eyes as black as the obsidian mirror where it stood.
The fallen angel, Barachiel. My father.
He cocked his head while gazing down at me, though it was hard to tell where his attention was focused because he had no pupils. The blackness completely filled his eyes, making him appear blind. I thought I saw stars glimmer within their depths.
“It’s you.” His baritone voice carried through the room with a reverberating echo. “I knew it had to be you.”
I swallowed, fixated on his unnatural beauty, his skin so smooth it didn’t look real. Was he real? Was he solid, or an apparition? I reached out and touched his chest, his sculpted pectorals as smooth and solid as polished stone. And just as cold.
His hand covered mine. “Daughter.”
I inhaled a sharp breath that felt like needles pricking my lungs. I think I’d forgotten to breathe the moment Barachiel became visible. With the sudden burst of fresh oxygen, my blood flooded my veins with force, the rush of it causing a pounding pain behind my eyes.
I had so much to say, so much to ask, but my addled brain went suddenly blank. I was staring at an angel. A fallen angel, but still an angel, and now that I’d actually seen him and touched him, it was easier to accept who and what I was. And what my mother had been.
My mother. This creature had bedded my mother, made her pregnant, then left her without protection so that she could be murdered by a man from the Vyantara. How dare Barachiel let that happen? How dare he even call me his daughter?
My hand still against his chest, I pushed. Hard. He hadn’t expected it, and though he was twice my size and probably a hundred times stronger, he stumbled backward. One bare foot remained on the mirror as he caught himself.
He scowled briefly before looking amused. “You call me to you, then try to get rid of me so soon?”
I fisted my hands at my sides. “How could you do that to my mother?”
“Chalice!” Gavin shouted.
Barachiel turned his head, his lion’s mane of sleek black hair lifting in a surreal breeze, then falling in perfect waves across his shoulders. He glowered at Gavin. “Who are you?”
Gavin stepped forward, straightening the lapels on his jacket before tugging at the neckline of his shirt. “Gavin Heinrich, chief of operations for the North American Vyantara. I have a business proposition for you.”
Barachiel refocused on me. “You called me here for him?”
Holding my head high, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d called him for Gavin because he’d ordered me to, but I also wanted to see him for myself. I needed proof that I still had one parent left, be it human or otherwise. Instead of answering Barachiel’s question, I asked one of my own. “Why did you hurt my mother?”
“Chalice, that’s enough,” Gavin scolded, sounding both annoyed and angry. “We didn’t bring him here for you to argue with him about your mother—”
“Silence!” Barachiel’s voice shook the walls like the boom from a cannon. “Your business proposition can wait. My business is with my daughter.”
“You say that as if you care,” I said, my rapidly beating heart making my voice shake. “You feel as much for me as you did for my mother, which is absolutely nothing.”
“Felicia was very dear to me.” He laid both his enormous hands on my shoulders and bent forward to gaze into my eyes. “I was once her Guardian, her protector. That was my role until she asked me to father a new knight for the order.”
My eyes filled with hot tears of anger and I blinked them back. “That’s not what I am.”
He appeared confused. “You are my progeny, a knight in the Order of the Hatchet.”
I slapped his hands away. “Have you been living under a rock for the past twenty-five years?”
“I don’t understand. Did your mother teach you nothing?” He still looked puzzled, though his voice was edged with restrained rage.
My laugh sounded as bitter as I felt. “My mother is dead!”
The room went abruptly silent.
After a few seconds, Gavin cleared his throat. “We’ll give you anything you want, Barachiel. All I ask is that the gift of invisibility be granted to a few of our clients. You’ll be paid with the blood of virgin fey, have all the human women you want, live a luxurious life on the mortal plane if that’s more your style. Name your price and it’s yours.”
Understanding seemed to dawn on Barachiel at the same speed as Gavin’s sales pitch. His eyes turned from black to red, and tears the color of blood streamed down his cheeks. One foot still on the mirror, he faced Gavin and the others. Zee looked petrified, her eyes round with amazement, her lips parted in a small O of surprise. My breath caught when I saw that Aydin was no longer there.
His jaw tight with fury, Barachiel pointed at Gavin. “You killed Felicia.”
Gavin licked his lips. “It was necessary. She had something I wanted, something I needed. But she still got away from me and it took me thirteen years to find where she’d left it so that I could claim it for myself.”
My stomach turned as I realized the it he referred to was me.
I’d known Gavin had been responsible for my mother’s death, but it still hurt to hear. The memory of my abduction came racing back and I relived the sight of Father Thomas collapsing dead in front of me. I heard the thunder of machine-gun fire that followed. Barachiel gently clasped his hands to both sides of my head, his fingers hot instead of the cold marble he’d been a moment ago. His expression changed as he experienced my memories with me. Then his hand slid to the back of my neck, halting on my tattoo. My mark of shame.
Both his hands dropped away, but his eyes never lost their scarlet hue. He stared at Gavin again. “I can name my price?”
Looking eager, Gavin nodded like a bobblehead doll. “Anything.”
“I want my daughter. I want Chalice.”
Gavin sputtered. “Of course. She’s yours, with my blessing.”
Just like that? I wasn’t some poker chip that could be tossed on the bargaining table. I was a human being. I had rights! Or at least I did until I was cursed. Even so, I wasn’t Gavin’s to give.
Not one to be ignored in a deal that could potentially involv
e him, Shui hissed and flared his wings. He wasn’t ready to give me up. The two of us still had unfinished business, his being to make a meal out of me someday.
Gavin smiled. “Pay no attention to Shui.” He glared down at the gargoyle while sliding his hand inside his jacket. Shui’s eyes narrowed as he watched where his master’s hand settled. Then he went quietly still.
“Chalice wouldn’t stay my daughter for long though, is that right, Gavin Heinrich?” Barachiel glowered at the man who had literally ruled my life for the past twelve years. “How many hours does she have left before she shifts into a winged devil like that one?” He flicked a finger at Shui, a dismissive gesture as casual as swatting a fly.
He knew. How could he know of the gargoyle’s curse? Even Gavin looked surprised.
“I’m not an idiot,” Barachiel told him. “These creatures have existed as long as I have, and so has their nefarious curse. But like a promise, the curse can be broken. Once the gargoyle is dead, the curse is broken.”
“I already know that,” I said softly, hope leaking from me like air from a deflating balloon. For a minute there, I’d actually believed he had the power to set me free. I’d never in my life felt so defeated. “But gargoyles are immortal.”
Carefully enunciating each word to ensure he made himself clear, Barachiel said, “Only until one kills the other.”
I could have sworn the dark angel actually smirked.
Barachiel shoved his hand out toward Gavin, palm open and fingers splayed. The air shifted like a wave in a pool. And as it did, all motion outside the circle abruptly stopped. Gavin was frozen midleap, Zee looked ready to join him and Shui had risen a foot off the floor while beating his wings to take flight. He hung suspended, going nowhere. Time outside the circle stood completely still.
Barachiel turned to me and said, “You can free yourself of the gargoyle’s curse.”
I nodded, giddy with this knowledge, but apprehensive about how to do what needed to be done. “There’s only one other gargoyle here that I know of.”
“It will do.”
“But what if Shui kills him?”
“The other one must win if you’re to be free.” He grabbed hold of my hand and held it gently between both of his. “I swear to you, Chalice, that I didn’t know what happened to your mother after she conceived.”
“You left us.”
“Only because I had to.” He heaved a sigh, his eyes finally going back to normal. Well, normal for him. It was like looking into orbs of black glass. “I was familiar with humans and their ways, and I refused to become one of them. The only other choice was this.”
“Which means you’re playing on the wrong side!”
He shook his head. “I’m still an angel.”
But he was a fallen angel, a dark angel, who served the enemy. I wasn’t okay with that. It was just…wrong.
“If you do fail at breaking the curse,” he told me, “there’s a way to reverse the change.”
“You mean a gargoyle can change back into a human?”
He nodded. “I doubt your Vyantara sorcerer knows this, but once you’ve changed you must eat the heart of the gargoyle you were bonded with in order to change back.”
Eat its heart? “But a gargoyle turns to stone. How can a stone heart be eaten?”
“It can,” he said. “I’ve seen it done many times.”
I gazed at the frozen figures beyond the circle and lost my enthusiasm. “I’m their prisoner, Barachiel. I have no power over them. They control me. There’s no escape.”
“There is.” He tightened his hold on my hands and it didn’t hurt. His touch didn’t hurt my skin. Was it because he was my father? Or because he was an angel? “Leave the circle and run from this house. Run as fast and as far as you can until you reach someplace safe.”
“There’s no safe place for me to go.” Then I thought of Elmo’s. “Or maybe there is. But they’ll follow me!”
“They won’t.” He tossed a quick glance at Gavin. “I won’t let them.”
“What about you?”
He gazed at me with such tenderness that I could still see the angel he used to be. Then his expression melted into one of fierce determination. “I have a place to go.”
“The black veil?”
“No. Chalice, don’t believe everything you hear about us. The Fallen are not demons.”
“But if not the black veil, then where?”
“There’s no time to explain. Just know that I’ll come to you again.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. Now that his anger had cooled, his touch was like ice on my scalp. “No matter where you go, I will find you. I promise. Now go.”
“Now?”
“Now!”
He said it with such vehemence that the very volume of his voice propelled me across the pentagram and through the circle. I sped out the door, but glanced over my shoulder to see the air shimmer around Barachiel. His hold on time continued. His face looked strained, desperate. It was taking all his strength to maintain his grip on the suspended room. He jerked a nod and I ran.
I took the steps two at a time, racing up to the main level, then stopping in front of a tall grandfather clock on the main floor. It had stopped at 1:00 a.m., the second hand motionless. I looked around me to see dust motes hover unmoving in the beam of light cast by a Tiffany lamp on a table. A moth hung suspended in midflight. A ceiling fan had stopped rotating, the blades frozen within a blur of halted motion. Barachiel’s freezing of time continued to hold.
Gavin’s stone knife! I had to have it, and now would be my only chance to take it without him stopping me.
I turned and raced back down the stairs to the basement, then flew into the summoning room. Without looking at Barachiel, I thrust my hand inside Gavin’s jacket, feeling around the pocket until my fingers touched the solid surface of the knife. I tugged it free, clutched it in my fist, and sped out the door and back up the stairs. I don’t think I’d taken a breath by the time I reached the building’s main entrance. Just as I clasped the door’s handle, I felt time let loose. It was over. Barachiel’s spell broke and time rushed on.
I yanked the door toward me, but as I dove to cross the threshold, something grabbed hold of my ankle. Still hanging on to the door, I glanced down at the black claw digging into my flesh. I blinked and saw the rest of the demon’s body as it clung to me. This was the Maågan demon.
Its red eyes glared at me from a black face as creased as old tree bark. Adrenaline coursed through me with the force of a racing river and I hardly felt the skin on my ankle tear as the demon’s nails dug deeper. Gavin’s knife still clutched in my hand, I screamed and swung so it cut through the black hide of my assailant’s arm. It was like slicing a brick of warm butter. Instantly free, I lunged out the door with the demon’s severed limb still attached.
Limping quickly down the sidewalk, I turned to glance back at the house. It looked the same. I slipped an earplug from my ear and caught a chaotic flurry of voices, excited shouts, pounding footsteps, slamming doors. What the hell was going on in there? The noise infused my panic and my limp became a run. In spite of the bond I had with Shui, I had to get away from this place. Once at Elmo’s, I’d at least have some semblance of freedom, even if it was only temporary.
I’d run about two blocks when I felt a rumble beneath my feet. I looked behind me for just a second and saw the explosion that blew a good-size chunk from the roof of the Fatherhouse.
fifteen
SMOKE AND FLAME FOLLOWED THE BLAST. Then came the sirens. Had Gavin and the others made it out in time? Shui most certainly survived. Immortal gargoyles tended to do that.
Oh, my God. Aydin? There was no way he could have been inside when the building blew up. He’d left the summoning room before hell broke loose, and I hadn’t seen him in the house when I left. Surely he’d escaped. I couldn’t bear to think he hadn’t.
The flames rising from the building illuminated the streets, and crowds of residents wearing bathrobes and h
eavy jackets ventured out into the cold to watch the fire. All of them were so focused on the catastrophe that no one noticed a small, dark-haired woman with a limp running by.
As soon as I had the chance, I pried the Maågan’s bloodless and disembodied claw from my ankle and tossed the severed arm in the gutter. When it touched the ground it dissolved into a black stain on the snow.
It was hard to ignore my wound as I ran. It burned as if tainted with poison. My body felt hot all over and my mind flamed with fever. Where was Elmo’s Coffee Shop? Down this street? Or was it that one? They all looked the same. Every turn-of-the-century home I passed was covered by leafless climbers and thorny rose vines, the yards filled with holly bushes, blue spruces and skeletal cottonwood trees that hovered over snow-coated lawns.
I felt like a hound that had lost its scent. I crouched beneath a tree and removed my nose filters, seeking the aroma of coffee.
Within seconds, the strong scent of coffee and cinnamon took hold of me like a leash attached to my nose. I stumbled down one alley after another until I ended up in Elmo’s front yard. After hobbling down the basement steps, I limped through the tunnel, my naked eyes scouring the walls for an entrance. There was a thin line of light leaking out between the floor and the bottom of a door. The sign hanging outside said Closed.
Shit. I thought Elmo kept his shop open through the wee hours. I pounded on the door. “Elmo? You in there?”
I heard two voices on the other side of the door. One belonged to Elmo, and the other was… “Aydin? Oh, thank God you’re here. Let me in!”
The door opened and I fell inside.
“What happened?” Aydin asked as he dragged me up by the arms. “You’re bleeding. And your eyes—” His forehead creased with worry. “You have a fever.”
I held on to him as he steered me to one of Elmo’s spool tables. I sat and struggled to catch my breath while replacing both contact lenses over my stinging eyes. “Explosion. Fatherhouse.”