I shrugged. “I dig your threads.” I said, pointing at the wavering shadows.
One of the tendrils reeled back and hissed at me in the shape of a cobra.
I jumped back in surprise. Well, maybe I hadn’t figured it all out yet.
“Enough. I’m here to talk of my brother. You had a horse kick him. Through a building. That wasn’t nice. He just wanted to take something from you. The Key. I’m here to accept your apology.”
She waited.
I waited.
“Well, this is awkward. What did your brother look like again? I’ve taken out quite a few Demons lately.”
She watched me. “Apologize, and I won’t strip the flesh from your bones… as slowly as I originally intended. If you give me the Key now, I’ll even grant you a clean death.”
My muscles tightened. The Key again. What was with these guys? What could they want from the Armory, and how could I give them a Key that didn’t exist? I knew I was in for a scrap, and without using magic I would simply become a scrap… of discarded flesh and bone. I decided to stall as I sent my mental team of mad scientists into finding a way for me to beat this Demon without magic. Which probably wasn’t likely, but worth a shot. I would no doubt have to resort to tapping into my power or become a puddle of goo for the morning janitor. At least Kosage would enjoy my ending. In my head, I knew that any solution even remotely tied to me being a Maker would no doubt require a shitload of magic, which I couldn’t afford to do, even though I wanted to see what kind of things I could actually accomplish. I silently encouraged my minions to go old school.
“What exactly do you want the Key for? I don’t think Demons would last long in the Armory.” I said honestly, remembering Hope’s disdain for Demons.
“True. But the answer will not aid you.”
“The Angels really don’t want me talking to you.”
“You’ve spoken with them?” She hissed in surprise. I nodded, hoping this would scare her off. “Ah, but the Angels can’t really do anything in this realm, can they? There are rules, after all.”
“Rules?” I asked, feeling slightly better… and worse. If the Angels couldn’t directly act on this plane, then I might have a chance to survive being turned into a pillar of salt. It also meant that I would be killed sooner, like, right now.
The Demon smiled at me, revealing rotted, black, razor-sharp fangs. “Angels cannot act on earth. It would ignite Armageddon. If they acted overtly, the Demons could also act overtly. Which would start World War A.” I blinked.
“World War A?”
“Yes. As in Armageddon.” The Demon grinned wide, lips peeling back with excitement. “Everything must be in balance. If an Angel acts discreetly, a Demon can do something discreetly. This is why we use cats paws.”
I stared at him. “You mean possessions. Summonings.” It wasn’t a question.
The Demon nodded.
“Then how do Angels act? With the Nephilim?”
The Demon flinched at the word, watching me with renewed interest. But she didn’t answer me. “Enough. I’m bored. Time to give up the Key.” I shook my head, trying to come up with a way to fight this soldier from Hell. “So be it. Say hello to your parents from me.” She smiled.
Then she moved.
I juked to the side, causing her talons to dig into the concrete for a better purchase. I grasped the bench, and with a tiny boost of magic directed at the bolts securing it to the wall, I tore it away and swung it at her head. She raised an arm to block it. It crumpled over her arm and shoulders, leaving a Demon shaped dent that she shrugged off after a moment. Then she began to laugh. I pointed at her hand patiently.
“But I broke your nail. I bet a manicure for something like that isn’t cheap. Do you use bolt-cutters or something?”
She looked down at her claw, then used her fangs to forcefully rip the talon from her finger before she spat it out onto the floor. Drops of blood dripped freely from the wound, sizzling on the concrete floor like sulfuric acid. Heh. Sulfur…
She appraised me with a cocked head. “My turn.” My mind went a million miles an hour, trying to find a way to fight her without draining my power. But there was nothing else in the room though. It was magic or death. Even with magic, it would be like…
A prison brawl.
Ah, irony.
Demons were tough. After all, I had just hit a homerun on her arm with an aluminum bench and it had only broken her nail. She darted at me, her shadow cloak darting back and forth erratically so that I couldn’t really see exactly where she was. The only way to kill a Demon was to hack them to pieces or exorcise them. Exorcising was out of the question because I had been stripped of any items that could possibly help me do so, and I didn’t dare burn away the power necessary to do it without assistance.
Then I had an idea. I waited, stock still, knowing it was reckless, but that it might be my only chance. I let her hit me, her claws latching onto my chest. Her talons began sinking into my flesh, and I Shadow Walked. Kind of.
I teleported us a few feet away, releasing the hold on my magic almost the same instant we started to shift. I heard a gasp from her snarling fangs as they lunged closer, ready to eat my face. I twisted my head back to dodge the fangs and look where we had stood only a moment ago. The bottom half of her body had been cut off as I let go of the magic, essentially slicing her neatly in half. I had gotten the idea from the tiny piece of fabric I had seen when I cold-cocked Gunnar earlier today. It had been a piece of my shirt. Luckily, I had found out about the dangers of Shadow Walking on my tee, but it had come in handy just now. I shoved off the sudden weight of her upper body, careful not to get any of her blood on me. Her claws hadn’t sunk deep, but my chest still burned as I extracted them from my torso. She blinked up at me once in disbelief. “The Key is not up for grabs. Tell your boss I said so.” Blood pooled on the floor, hissing as it scorched the concrete. I sat in the corner of the room and hugged my knees, watching the life fade from her eyes with trepidation.
I didn’t have time for this. I could always Shadow Walk out of here, and hope that it didn’t use up too much energy. But that would only freak out every cop in the building and put me on the most wanted list. And I knew the cops would have to release me tomorrow. They didn’t have any solid evidence to hold me. And I did need the sleep. But apparently I wasn’t safe even here if that Demon had been able to enter my cell. They were taking great risks to get the Key to the Armory.
Time.
I didn’t have any of it to waste. I needed to find a way to remove the curse from the Academy. It was going to get me killed if I was always hesitating. Maybe I could talk Gavin into releasing me. Yeah, right. The Demon’s body disintegrated into a pile of ash with a puff, but the blood remained. That was odd. I watched as it slowly ate away at the concrete, edging closer and closer to me. I doubted it would actually reach me. It was already slowing down.
My thoughts went to Indie. I hoped she was okay, and that her mother was feeling better. I knew she had to be terrified after that son of a bitch officer had answered my phone. They had conveniently forgotten to grant me a phone call yet. My thoughts drifted on to the cops and FBI. They had frozen my assets. I was essentially penniless. I had no idea how legal that was, but with someone as rich as myself, perhaps they had different rules. I could, after all, buy my way out of almost anything. Maybe they considered that a flight risk. Kind of like a weapon. Huh. I hadn’t thought of it like that, but it was pretty smart on their part.
This was the second Demon to attack me in less than a day, and they had both wanted the Key. The Key that was actually my blood. They hadn’t seemed too concerned about killing me, which let me know they had no idea how valuable I was. Which was good. If they killed me, they would never be able to get into the Armory. Hoorah! Temple wins by default! That reminded me of Hope’s idle mention of answers being found through death. And I shivered.
I understood how Demons were able to interact on earth, but how did Angels sneak around?
I mean, I had been directly manhandled in the bar by one of the feathery saints and his crew of Nephilim. How was that kosher? Did that mean that even now, a Demon had been granted the opportunity to act overtly? Had Eae’s assault allowed the first Demon to appear only an hour later and attack me as well? Was that why the Nephilim had been with him?
Jesus. Had the Angel caused the war by coming to talk to me? I sensed the air with my powers, knowing that it didn’t actually use any of my magic to do so. Everything felt more or less the same. It didn’t feel Armageddon-y. I shook my head. Regardless, I needed to find out how Angels were supposed to interact on earth, which was most likely the Nephilim, lest I be surprised by a third party in the next few days. I couldn’t afford a surprise attack. And I really didn’t know how I felt about killing a soldier from Heaven. Even though the only Angel I had met had been kind of a dick, he was just doing his job. He saw me as a threat for some reason. Still, I thought there might have been a better way for him to handle it. Like with a group prayer or something. I sighed in frustration. So far, I had managed to piss off an Angel, two Demons, three cops, a gaggle of Nephilim, and several Academy members, who had each given me contradictory demands. Abiding by one set of commands made me persona non grata for the other groups. Catch-22 to the third power. Even worse, I had limited power to fix the situation, and no friends to help me out. I felt my anger growing as I tried to think about what I could do.
Then the lights in the room abruptly winked out.
I scanned the darkness as I lurched to my feet, fearing another Demon was about to appear and jump me. I found my way to the bars and tried to peer outside my cell. I was pretty sure that the power to the entire building had just gone out. Emergency lights flickered to life, bathing me in a faint red glow. I began to get real nervous as I heard feet pounding down the stairs. I backed up slowly, ready to unleash hell. I had no idea who was here, but I had no doubt they were coming for me, and the only people coming for me were the biggest of the big hitters. Angels. Demons. Academy Justices. If I was lucky, they might create a joint task force to take me out together, like a dark Justice League. My thoughts ran with that as I heard a door finally open and the footsteps quickly approach my cell.
I raised my hands, ready to vaporize the intruder. I spotted my foe across the room, slowly creeping closer and closer as if on all fours. A green glow emanated at its hip, which made me think of hell. Then a face from hell materialized as it crept closer. Horns, and war paint covering the upper half of its head. Then it sparkled in the green glow. I blinked. Glitter? Bedazzled Demons?
“Pharos?” I heard a familiar voice call out quietly.
My fear was instantly replaced by confusion and hope. I raced back to the bars. “Othello?” I hissed in disbelief.
“The one and only.” She smiled, stepping up the bars to touch my fingers. Pretty girls make graves, and Othello was breathtaking. Shorter than some, but stacked more than most, she sported a thick, wavy pony tail, and she had a small oval shaped face, with plump cheeks just perfect for squeezing. I saw that she was wearing a Le Carnevale mask for Mardi Gras. “Like my disguise? I have one for you also.” She cooed.
“What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t answer your phone.” I blinked. “I guess you could call me clingy.” She winked. I scowled back, shaking my head at her grin. “When you didn’t answer your phone, I traced the embedded GPS and saw, to my surprise, your phone was here in this government building. Of course, I decided a face-to-face was necessary upon this news. Nobody takes my Pharos. Especially the government.”
I smiled. Othello hated the government. Any of them. That was why she was one of the world’s most renowned cyber criminals. And they didn’t even know who she really was. She was good. For her to risk breaking into a federal building to save me had put her at great risk, and showed me how much she cared for me. Even after all this time. I wasn’t quite sure how she spent her time outside of cyber stuff, but I had reason to believe that it wasn’t all computer stuff. She had made several hints about having unsavory contacts in her debt.
Her glow stick illuminated my cell, and the carnage that was the Demon-shaped bench and the blood all over the floor. “Why is there… blood on the floor? Did they hurt you?” She looked murderous.
“I had a visitor. From my side of the park.” I added, emphasizing that it hadn’t been a human. “She wouldn’t leave when I asked her to.” Othello finally nodded after a moment.
“Stand back.” She commanded as she began fidgeting with key points on the barred door. I complied, wondering how the hell she was here, what the hell she was doing, and how the hell we were going to get out. This was the freaking police station. For St. Louis. Not really a Barney Fife type operation with a single cop napping outside. These police had military grade weapons and a SWAT team for crying out loud. It seemed I was going to need to tap into my magic pretty soon.
I was kind of pissed about this. Here I was, about to be broken out of jail, which would only put me further in the crosshairs of the police. When it was very likely they were going to release me tomorrow.
“Othello,” I warned. “This is crazy. They are going to release me tomorrow. I don’t have time to add America’s Most Wanted to my resume. Just wait. I’ll come to you as soon as they release me and we can talk then. Go. Please. They will be here any second.”
She halted, looking up at me curiously. “No, they won’t.” She replied coldly.
My skin pebbled at that. She said it with such finality, as if there was no way the cops were going to come down here. As if… they were no longer a danger. At all. Ever again.
“Othello… what do you mean? What did you do to them? They were only doing their jobs.”
She blinked at me then laughed. “I didn’t kill them. Jesus, Nate. They’re cops. I called in a threat to empty the majority of the precinct.” Her voice jumped an octave, sounding terrified as she mimicked a phone call. “Oh my gawd! There’s a bomb at Queenies, the gay bar downtown. They’re threatening to blow the place up to cleanse the way for God’s Children! I heard them say they would only surrender to a man named Kosage. I just came out here to dance, and now everyone’s running and screaming! I already see a news crew setting up a block away! I have to go!” Her malicious grin turned to me proudly.
“You’re telling me that you set up a bomb at a gay club to bust me out of jail. I assume it’s not going to explode in a shower of glitter and rainbows? You could hurt people!” I needed to get her out of here.
“There’s no bomb, Nate. Although that glitter idea would have been great. When the cops get there, they are going to see a poster-sized picture of your friend Kosage on a float wearing a pink unitard, with the song ‘I’m coming out, I want the world to know…’ blaring on three sets of independently wired speakers. I informed the patrons at the bar that a famous detective would be arriving tonight to come out of the closet and to support the gay community in St. Louis for Mardi Gras. His fellow officers were gathering to support him, with flashing lights for a celebration. The news was also in on it, so they needn’t be alarmed.” I blinked at her, my mouth opening wordlessly several times, and then I burst out laughing. “The float is titled Napolean comes Out.” She continued softly. Apparently, Othello had been working on this for some time. There was no way she could have arranged this since my call to her earlier this afternoon.
“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? How did you Photoshop a picture of Kosage in a unitard, and… why?” I asked in genuine amazement.
She began to laugh, doubling over as she placed the last gadget on the cell door. “That’s the best part.” She enunciated the next words concisely. “It. Wasn’t. Photoshop. I had intended to use the picture and float at the Parade, but with what he did to you, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. It serves him right.
“I used sleeping canisters to knock out the rest of the officers upstairs so me and my team could bust in. I didn’t kill anyone, Nate. But
they are not planning to release you tomorrow. I hacked into their phones. You weren’t going anywhere. That’s why I’m here. To bust you out. Something big is going down in St. Louis. And I think it has to do with your investigation into your parents’ murder.” She watched my face. “Later. Now I need to get you out of here. Step back. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen when I push this button.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t-”
She pressed something and the metal at the door disintegrated in seconds, amidst a whining, grinding, and electrical sound like a thousand termites in fast-forward. It stopped after two seconds. The door let out a final groan before it fell into my cell with a resounding crash, barely missing my toes.
“Wow.” She said in surprise.
I blinked in amazement, but hadn’t sensed any magic, didn’t smell any chemicals, and it had not been an explosive. I stepped closer to her, staying on my side of the door, careful not to touch the gate that had fallen into the cell. “What was that?”
“Nanobots.” She grinned at the look on my face. “Put this on.” She handed me a Le Carnevale mask and a flannel shirt. I put them on. She adjusted it so that it was crooked, as if forced on me. “Good. I already grabbed your stuff from lockup, since the things you carry are usually dangerous to the uninitiated Regular. Now come on.” She grabbed my hand. Her fingers were feverish with excitement as we rushed out of the holding area and hesitated at the door. She peered through the window. I could see several bodies slumbering on the floor, and several spent canisters lying here and there like discarded beer cans at a party. She nodded to herself, rearranging my mask again slightly. “Okay. I need you to follow me. Act like you’re being kidnapped and that you’re drugged from the gas. That way they can’t suspect you in what happened, and what happens next.” She grinned at that. “Don’t speak in case the building is wired. Just follow me like a victim.”
I began to protest when she suddenly kicked the door open and jerked me forward. I stumbled, playing the part she had requested, but inside I was fuming. What did she have planned that was any worse than what she had already done? The mask scratched at my face, and ruined my peripheral vision, but I continued on, following her lead obediently, sluggishly.
Blood Debts (The Temple Chronicles Book 2) Page 15