by Jayne Faith
She shook her head. “They’re extremely busy, and they don’t have time for—”
“But I know how to break the curse,” I cut in. “I’ve already started the process.”
“How did you come by such knowledge?” Erlich asked.
“Remember the agent of God in the old story? The one who was supposed to come and save us?” I asked.
After a slight hesitation, he nodded.
“He’s here. His name is Lorenzo. He’s the one who knows how to break the curse.”
No one outright called me crazy, but I could tell by the shifting and exchanged glances around the room that they were thinking it.
“I know how this sounds, but it’s true,” I continued, trying my best to seem as measured and sane as possible. “He tried it before. He was working with a witch to break the curse a hundred years ago. The witch killed the original Demon Lord, but failed to follow the steps to actually end the Watchtower’s curse, and that’s why we’re still stuck with it now. Don’t you see? Weakening the Demon Lord by taking all the Hunters, or even killing him outright, isn’t going to save us. One of his cambion children will take his place. Just like when his father was killed.”
“She’s right that killing the first Demon wasn’t the solution,” Erlich said slowly. He turned to Henrietta. “I think we should get her in front of the Underground leadership. Let them decide if there’s any merit to what she says.”
She planted her hands on her hips and pursed her lips, then narrowed her eyes at me. “Produce the so-called agent of God, this Lorenzo, and I’ll take you to the leadership.”
My shoulders sagged with relief, and I nodded gratefully. They didn’t believe me yet, but at least they were listening. That meant I had a chance.
“Go now. Come back with Lorenzo,” Henrietta said. “We don’t have time to waste.”
She was right. With my heart in my throat, I turned and hurried through the brewery and out into the night.
Chapter 14
ONCE OUTSIDE, I pulled up short. Some part of me had expected Lorenzo to be waiting, lurking nearby as he so often had in the past. But the street was empty, and it hit me: I didn’t have a clue how to locate him. He’d never told me his last name or where he lived.
I turned to the brewery entrance, suddenly unsure about how to proceed. When the door burst open, I let out a squeak and nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Amy!” I said as my best friend emerged. I closed my eyes briefly in relief. “Thank God it’s you.”
She flipped a long lock of blonde hair over her shoulder and grinned. “I figured you could use some help. Or an ally, at least.”
I let out a breath. “So, you don’t think I’m insane?”
“You very well could be, but considering the stakes, I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said wryly, but I knew she believed me. I pushed my fingers into my hair. “I have a problem, though. I don’t know where Lorenzo is, and I have no idea how to find him. He usually hangs around the Lead Feather while I’m working, or he meets me on the street. But I haven’t seen him all day.”
Amy hooked her arm around mine and started walking, pulling me with her. “We shouldn’t loiter this time of night,” she said. “Let’s walk, and we’ll figure it out.”
I nodded and we fell into step together with our arms linked.
“Tell me everything you know about him,” she said, lowering her voice.
“He goes by Lorenzo, but it’s not his real name,” I said. “His angel name is Cecitiel. If he’s telling me the truth, he’s been around for centuries, but he lived other places before here. He picked up the name Lorenzo while he was in the Old World a long time ago. He has a strange sort of magic, where discs of light form in his hands, and he can make people forget what they’ve seen. Oh, and he drinks like a fish. I think if he were mortal, he would have died long ago by way of alcoholic liver.”
I blinked a few times. Was that all I knew? Had I really gone along with Lorenzo’s schemes while knowing such a short list of facts about him?
“He was the warlock who worked with the witch who killed the first Demon Lord,” I continued. “He has no love for witches because she betrayed him by not following their plan. Apparently, she went straight for the Demon instead of keeping to the steps to break the curse. He’s pretty bitter about having been stuck here in The Colony for centuries.”
“And what are the steps to break the curse?” Amy asked.
I recounted the tale of my battle with the sea serpent and how I’d nearly died to get a sample of its venom, but Lorenzo had revived me. I could hardly believe it had all taken place only last night. It seemed like much longer ago. I certainly felt like I’d aged about a year in the past twenty-four hours.
I admitted to her that Lorenzo had so far refused to tell me what we had to do next.
My stomach began to tighten. “This isn’t like him. Usually he pesters me a couple of times a day. He’ll sit at the Lead Feather bar and drink shots while I work. What if something happened to him?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Amy said. “He sounds like a man who’s quite capable of taking care of himself. He’s an angel, for shells’ sake. We just need to find him. Did he ever say anything about any other favorite watering holes? Maybe he’s sitting on a barstool somewhere celebrating the procurement of the serpent venom.”
“No, but the first time I ran into him, he was very drunk and stumbling down a street in midtown,” I said. I described the location.
Amy pointed ahead at the next left turn. “Let’s go that direction. I have an idea of where he might be. Remember that Renaissance-themed bar?”
“Michelangelo’s?”
“Yep, that’s the one.”
“You’re a genius,” I said. “Drink and memories of the Old World. I’d bet money that’s his favorite place in The Colony.”
In my eagerness, I wasn’t paying enough attention to our surroundings. When an iron grip enclosed my upper arm, I realized too late we were on a street that was deserted of any other citizens.
I was yanked roughly around to face the thick chest of a Hunter. It was Gerard, the one who’d threatened me before.
“Victoria,” he said.
A shiver slipped up my spine. I didn’t know he knew my name.
“I told you we’d meet again.”
His other hand was clamped around the shackles on his belt, dampening their telltale clinks. That was why I hadn’t heard him coming.
Neither Amy nor I had our knives anymore.
“Let go of her, you cretin,” Amy snarled.
I tried to pull out of his grasp, pulling at his fingers and scraping my fingernails across his knuckles. This would be a grand time for Lorenzo to appear. For anyone at all to round the corner onto this quiet block. But no one came.
“You’re not getting away this time.” Gerard wrapped one meaty arm around my waist and began dragging me backward.
My heart clutched in my chest and then a jolt of panic-laced adrenaline sent my whole body pounding.
I struggled harder, kicking my heels back at his shins, but my blows glanced off his thick boots. Amy let out a screech of rage and flew at him, her hands balled into fists. I flailed my arms, trying to reach up to scratch at his face.
He cursed crudely, and the three of us fought, me trying to break loose, Amy pounding at him with her fists, and Gerard fending off her blows with his free hand.
It was almost a good matchup, until Gerard kicked Amy in the stomach. She fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. He hoisted me up under his arm as if I were a child, and began moving swiftly toward what looked like an abandoned building.
I kicked and tried to bite his arm.
“Let me go!” I screamed, my voice cracking as terror truly began to take hold.
“Shut up,” he commanded.
I screamed louder, my cries echoing off the walls of the darkened buildings surrounding us.
He boxed the s
ide of my head hard with one fist, and my vision shrank down to a narrow tunnel. I groaned as my head reverberated with the pain of the blow.
Fight, I commanded myself. I shook my head and redoubled my efforts, clawing and gnashing and writhing. My feet hit the ground, and for a second I thought maybe he was letting me go. I tried to break away, but his arm circled my neck. He squeezed.
“I would have taken it easy on you, if you would have come quietly,” he said in my ear. “Now you’re going to have to be punished.”
The crook of his elbow pressed against my throat, cutting off my air. I tried to scream again, but couldn’t draw enough breath. I was losing my grasp on consciousness.
Everything grew hazy and faraway. My last thought was that I should have just killed him. I should have drawn magic, in spite of the risk, and commanded water to coalesce and fill his lungs. It might have worked, if I weren’t still so weak from the battle with the sea serpent.
The world went gray and then dark.
I came to with shouts filling my ears. I was inside the abandoned building where Gerard had dragged me, but I appeared to be alone. I checked myself quickly, weakening with relief when I found all my clothes still intact.
The shouts were coming from outside. I crawled to one dirty window, my head pounding and stars dancing in my eyes from having my oxygen cut off.
There were Hunters out there. And Amy. I felt the subtle residue of magic in the air. Oh no. She must have used her powers to save me. Her magic had attracted more Hunters.
Grabbing the window ledge for leverage, I pushed to my feet, my legs wobbly.
Were the Hunters attacking her . . .? No, they were arresting her. I lurched clumsily toward the door, but paused with my hand on the knob.
She was screaming my name.
“Victoria, save yourself! You have to break the curse!”
I grasped the knob, ready to push it open and charge out there.
“Save yourself, Victoria! Run! It’s no good if they get you, too!”
I stopped where I was. She was right. If I got caught, I couldn’t help Lorenzo break the curse. The Underground would forge ahead with their ill-conceived plan, witches and warlocks would die in the fight, and the Watchtower’s curse would remain.
A sob tore from my throat. I slapped a hand over my mouth as I turned and stumbled through the dark building, searching for another exit. I pushed through a door and spilled out onto an alley. Then I ran as fast as my legs would move. I didn’t have time to get my bearings, so I just tried to get as far away from the Hunters as possible.
My shoes slapped the asphalt, and tears streamed down my cheeks. I’d abandoned Amy. She’d saved me, and then I’d run away. I knew I had to do it, but hated myself all the same. Now, I had to succeed. That was the only way to repay her.
Pulling myself together, I started looking for landmarks to orient myself. I needed to get to Michelangelo’s. I had to find Lorenzo. I was close to the bar, I realized. Another right and I would be there.
I paused outside the door to wipe my damp cheeks, smooth my hair, and straighten my dress. My heart was twisting with agony over Amy, but I squared my shoulders and went inside.
The place was dimly lit with lamps that cast a yellow pallor over everything. At one time, Michelangelo’s had probably been an upscale pub, with its Renaissance-style murals painted on the walls and gilded fixtures and rich architectural details. But now it was a dive—the booths’ seat cushions leaking their stuffing, the floor littered with peanut shells, and an unpleasant aroma of beer and urine hanging in the air.
One quick scan showed that only men patronized the place. I turned to the long bar and spotted a familiar back hunched over on a stool, with half a dozen empty shot glasses lined up on the pocked wooden surface. Feeling many sets of curious eyes following me, I walked swiftly over to Lorenzo. I tapped him on the shoulder.
He twisted around, and though his eyes were bloodshot and the lids droopy, he didn’t look completely gone yet.
“Victoria!” he exclaimed as if I were a long-lost friend. “What are you doing here, missy? This is no place for a woman.” He let out a laugh that ended in a belch.
“I need you to come with me to meet with the—” I cut off and glanced around, and then leaned in to whisper. “I need you to meet with the Underground leadership. They’re planning a siege on the Watchtower, but I know it won’t succeed. You need to explain about the curse, and we have to convince them not to follow through with their plan.”
He squinted at me as if the gears of his brain were slowly grinding to process what I’d said. My heart dipped in my chest as I realized he was drunker than I’d originally thought.
I took hold of his arm and tugged gently. “We have to do it tonight,” I said urgently. “Right now.”
He slid off the stool and tried to stand, but one foot tangled on the footrest of the stool and he stumbled against the bar, catching himself clumsily.
Oh, shells. This was not going to make a great impression on the Underground.
I signaled to the barkeep, and he came over.
“Is his tab settled?” I asked.
He nodded. “He prepays a week at a time.”
I blinked, but didn’t have time to ponder that odd financial arrangement. “Could we get some coffee to go?”
“I don’t have carry-out glasses.”
I held in a withering sigh. God help me, I didn’t need all of these stupid obstacles. “Give me whatever you can spare, and put the cost of it on his tab.”
He went to fill a thick plastic water tumbler with brew from a pot at the end of the bar, and then brought the steaming cup to me.
I picked it up with one hand and grabbed Lorenzo’s elbow with the other hand, and marched him toward the door.
Outside, I stopped to hold out the coffee. “Drink this quick. I need you to sober up.”
He grimaced like a child facing a plateful of steamed spinach, and took a tiny sip. Then he turned his head to the side and spat it out.
“Foul farking stuff!” He made dramatic gagging noises.
Anger and fear spiked through me, and I reached up to grab his shoulders.
“Listen to me!” I gave him a sharp shake. “My best friend just got taken away by Hunters. She sacrificed herself to save me so that I could break the curse with you. The Underground is going to get witches and warlocks slaughtered if they follow through on their plan.” I’d dug my nails into his shoulders and was punctuating each sentence with a shake. “We have to break the curse first. And, oh shells, we have to save Amy.”
My words dissolved into a tiny sob as my eyes welled again, but my anger cut through.
“I do not have time for your damn, farking pigheadedness!” I hissed, ignoring the alarmed looks of a group of men going into Michelangelo’s. “Sober up this instant, or God help me I will find the nearest bucket of water and hold your head in it until you either come to your senses or die. At this point I really don’t give a shell which way it goes.” I gave him another rattle for good measure.
He looked at me with wide eyes. Coffee had splashed from the tumbler as I’d shaken him, and the liquid steamed lightly on the cold pavement. We stared at each other silently for a few long seconds.
Then before I could pull back out of his reach, he darted in and planted a disgusting, smacking kiss on my lips.
“Now that’s the fire I’ve been waiting for, sweetie,” he said. “Why are we wasting time standing around? Let’s get to your Underground people.”
I pulled the back of my hand across my mouth, trying to wipe away the stench of his breath. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or gag.
“This way.” I pointed down the street, and we took off.
Chapter 15
EXPECTING THAT THE meeting at the brewery had already dispersed for the evening, I steered Lorenzo toward Henrietta’s brothel. She was the head of my Underground enclave and as such my most direct connection to the Underground’s leadership. Lorenzo swayed and slu
rred a little as we went, but seemed more coherent than before, and in much better spirits. He downed what was left of the coffee and at one point broke out into song, singing softly in a lilting language that was completely unlike anything I’d ever heard.
By the time we reached Henrietta’s, he’d sobered up substantially. I wished I had a leaf of mint for him to chew—his breath was still practically combustible with the fumes of alcohol—but I’d just have to do what I could so he spoke as little as possible.
There was a neon sign advertising the VanGuard Hotel. We approached the door and found it locked. I rapped on the door with my knuckles, casting furtive glances over each shoulder and hoping no one would spot me loitering at the brothel’s door. I pulled my hair around my face with a nervous hand.
A narrow rectangular slot slid open and eyes appeared in the space.
“Yes?” a gruff voice demanded.
“Um, hello,” I said, trying to sound as businesslike as possible. I was dying a little inside as I imagined how this looked—a young woman coming to the “hotel” with a drunk man who was humming softly to himself. “I’m here to see Henrietta. My name is Victoria and this is Lorenzo. She’s expecting me.”
“Wait,” the man on the other side of the door said. The slot closed with a snap.
I blinked, and after a few seconds tried the door again, just in case. Still locked.
“Shells,” I muttered under my breath.
I tried not to fidget as we stood there. Lorenzo, of course, seemed to be experiencing none of my anxiety. He was still singing to himself, and actually put a fist on his hip and shuffled a little jig. I couldn’t help snorting a wry laugh at his display of good spirits, but hoped he would take on a more serious demeanor when we got inside. If we got inside.
A full two minutes passed, and in that time two different men strode past on the sidewalk behind, passing by a couple of times each. When I peered over my shoulder at them, their shoulders hunched and heads pulled down into their coat collars.