The house was quiet and Abby wasn’t surprised to find the kitchen empty when they walked in. Wes grabbed two mugs out of a top cupboard and poured them a healthy dose of the delicious black liquid.
“We’re on the porch,” Sam’s voice called out.
Steaming mugs in hand, Abby and Wes joined the others in the fresh early morning air. It smelled of wet grass. Abby took a deep breath and the cool air awakened her senses faster than the coffee did. Sam and Dave stood near the railing and, pausing in their conversation, looked up. They appeared well-rested and at peace with the silver morning light as their only companion. Abby felt a stab of regret for showing up out of the blue and tossing the rules of their world into chaos.
“Morning,” both men greeted.
Sam pointed to Dave and Wes with his coffee mug. “I told them about our plan.”
Knowing that the changes they had talked about must have come as quite a surprise for the rest of Sam’s guard, Abby was curious. “So…What do you guys say?”
Dave shrugged, which was quite a reaction coming from him. “It’s a lot to take in, and to be honest it’s not easy to wrap my mind around it.” Other than that, his demeanor was as serious and calm as ever. “We’ve been doing this job for how many years now? Three? The rules set out from the start were simple. Good against evil. What you guys want to do and the stuff you are talking about…I’m not saying it’s-”
He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.
Lillian chose that moment to drop by - literally. A rustle of feathers and a gust of dusty wind stirred by dirty white wings was all the warning they got. Suddenly she was standing right there with them on the porch.
Bracing her hands on her knees, Lillian got her breath back. A bright smile split her face when she straightened. “Hey guys. And girl.”
It took the boys a while to close their gaping mouths and get their tongues to work.
“Holy. Crap. Girl you are so hot.”
“Nice to see you too, Wes.” Lillian winked at him.
Sam shook off his shock. “Damn Lillian. I heard you could fly, but seeing is…”
“Believing?”
His incredulity still bright on his face, he laughed and shrugged sheepishly. “Kinda, yeah.”
“Training has been a pain in the ass. I finally wanted to see whether it’s helping any.”
“Does it hurt?” Abby asked.
“Honesty?”
“Yes.”
Lillian laughed. “My back’s on fire. Muscles there I never knew existed.” Despite her words, her eyes were aglow with the thrill of flight. “But it’s definitely worth it.”
“Awesome.” Wes clapped his hands with a sudden idea. “Been to Heaven yet? Bet they are pissing themselves at the thought of an Ivory up there.”
For the blink of an eye Abby saw the edge of sadness in Lillian’s before her friend had pushed it back under her control. “No. Not yet.” Looking at Sam, Lillian quickly changed the subject and concentrated on the reason for her impromptu visit. “Anyway, how is it going here? I take it Abby clued you in.”
“Yes, she did. And you can count on my help.” He turned to his Guard and added, “I only speak for myself here. This is not one of our usual jobs, so the choice is entirely yours.”
Wes slapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “That’s really cool and honorable and all that shit, man, but let’s keep it like usual. There’s a reason you’re the leader, after all. You’re the brains, we’re the muscle.”
Dave cut in, “Talk for yourself, please.”
Ignoring him, Wes went on, a big and eager smile on his face. “Point is we are a team. And I for one can’t wait to get out of this safe house and onto the road again.”
This time Dave nodded. “True. We can’t let the two of you go on your own. If things go downhill, you’ll be outnumbered. Easy pickings.”
“Gee, aren’t you a bundle of joy. Again.” Wes rolled his eyes theatrically.
Smiling at the typical back and forth between Wes and Dave, Lillian turned to Sam, “Thank you. I mean it. Perfect timing, too, ‘cause we need all the help we can get.” Her eyes gained a serious and hard glint. “Dave brought up a very valid point. Matt, Joshua and Becca got attacked last night…by Megan’s Guard.”
For a second Abby wondered whether she had heard right, but then reminded herself that they were talking about Megan here. That woman saw everything as a competition and had been ruthless from day one. “What the hell? Why?”
“She doesn’t quite agree with the new friends we’ve made.”
Meaning Becca and Quinn in particular and demons in general, Abby guessed.
“Megan’s guard won’t be the only hostile one,” Dave cut in. “We have to be prepared for that.”
Wes groaned, rubbing a hand across his face and shaking his head at his friend. “I’ll repeat: Bundle. Of. Joy.”
Lillian ignored Wes’ comment and faced Sam again. “Dave’s right. That’s why I came here to warn you. And I’m glad that you’ll be a full guard and not just Abby and you. Years of indoctrination won’t disappear overnight.” To Abby she continued, “Remember, it took us a while to trust or even believe Becca and Quinn as well. Also, when you’re meeting with other guards, make sure they understand that we’re not suddenly considering every demon as innocent. We just know that some are. Okay?”
Abby grinned back at her. “Yes, boss.”
“Good. By the way, which guard do you guys want to check out first?”
Abby looked at Sam for help. They hadn’t discussed their plan of action yet. She would have suggested Linda, the oldest of their kind. Forty-two years, still alive and kicking; it was a record. Given her long career, Linda would also be the hardest nut to crack.
Looking at Abby, Sam suggested, “Well, I haven’t seen Linda in quite a while. Maybe we should pay her a visit? ”
Abby laughed and smiled back at him. “My thoughts exactly.”
Lillian nodded her agreement. “Well, since you have everything under control, I guess I better head back now.” Turning towards Abby to hug her, she continued, “We’re up in Ohio at the moment, in Norwalk. Keep me updated if you have any news. Otherwise I’ll drop by now and again.”
“Like a fairy godmother?”
Turning slightly, Lillian made her feathers twitch. “Hey, I do have the wings at least.” Then she ran to edge of the porch, jumped into the air and was gone.
“Damn. Chicks would dig that,” Wes said, his mouth still open. “Imagine the stuff you…”
Dave countered immediately, as calm and deadpan as ever. “Dude, you will need more than a pair of wings to get a date.”
“I beg to differ. I’ve never had any complaints before.” He turned to Dave and crossed his arms. “And what would you know about women, anyway?”
“I’ve had a few.”
“Distant family doesn’t count.”
Abby’s eyebrows climbed up while Sam smiled at her. He was obviously used to the back and forth between the two.
“Let’s pack up, guys,” Sam called out.
Five minutes later Abby and the others made their way across the dry grass to one of the sheds that apparently served as a garage as well. When she stepped inside, her jaw hit the ground. “What the heck?”
Curly flames ran along the side of Sam’s black Chevrolet Silverado, and the image of a silver sword with white wings spreading from its hilt decorated the hood. It came very close to the coat of arms of the Ivory Guard. The…ornamentation…hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen the pickup.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Judging by Sam and Dave’s expression, this was new to them too.
“You like?” Wes beamed at all of them.
“Are the words ‘low profile’ Chinese to you? No, I don’t like,” Dave replied, expressionless.
Oh boy. This trip was going to be fun.
SEVEN
Gripping the wooden balustrade until her knuckles went white in order to keep hersel
f from falling, Becca slowly made her way up the stairs. Although the hearty breakfast should have gone a long way in restoring her energy, she feared it wasn’t enough. Her blood and the natural conductor of magic in it was depleted.
Had she gone too far?
Quinn had accused her of it. Sighing, she wished he hadn’t seen her like this. Shaky and weak. After all, Becca knew the consequences of practicing true magic. It was ruthless and didn’t give without asking for something in return. For sacrifices, of the bloody kind. But last night healing Joshua and then Stone had been her absolute priority, as she couldn’t allow either to die. She hadn’t had enough ingredients for a faux ritual, and so blood had been the only option. Joshua and Stone were alive and so was she. As far as Becca was concerned that was all that mattered.
While Stone was on the hunt for new clothes, Becca needed to get her shit together and figured that a hot shower would help. For an instant she was embarrassed that he’d seen her in this state. He’d looked well-rested and attractive while she sported bed hair and dark rings under her eyes. It was a ridiculous thing to worry about, but it made her feel real, made her feel like a normal woman. After the delicious food he’d prepared, Becca was curious to find out more about Stone. It was obvious he was a trained Ebony, so why would he choose to leave Hell? What was his story, she wondered.
A rustling noise drew Becca’s attention to the top of the stairs.
It came from Quinn’s room. Her ears strained to listen for more. She slowly approached the door. Scurrying and a feeble squeak made her relax and open the door when realization hit her.
“Claws!”
Small white and brown feathers decorated her brother’s room like sprinkling on a cake. They were everywhere, scattered all over the floor. Knowing Claws well enough even after the short time he had stayed with them, Becca crouched down to have a look under the bed, his favorite hiding spot.
It was a mistake.
Dizziness took over, blackened her vision. Bracing one of her hands on the bed in time, she let her butt hit the floor. She closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing calm and deep.
Damn it.
When the world stopped feeling like it had been pushed down the rabbit hole, Becca cautiously opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was her cat sitting under the bed with a bird trapped between his front paws. High on the hunt, his eyes were big and wide, and a feather clung to his mouth. She knew that Claws wouldn’t let her anywhere near his prey so she decided to leave him be and look after herself instead. She got up slowly and reached out for the door jamb and then the walls as she made her way to her room – just in case.
Making it a deliberate move not to look at her reflection in the mirror, Becca slipped out of her comfy clothes and robe before she stepped under the hot spray. Her hands went to the tiles for support, holding her upright.
Out of the far away corner of her mind, the emptiness whispered sweet promises into her ear. It reminded her of a small bird, assuring her that she didn’t have to suffer like this.
“No,” she called out. Whether she was reprimanding the voice or herself, she couldn’t say.
She knew that voice, the temptation it presented.
Turning the water even hotter, Becca let it wash away her thoughts. Her knotted, tired muscles sighed with relief as the spray massaged her skin. As if enflamed by lover’s hands, the heat roamed and spread throughout her body. Caressing it tenderly, soothingly.
True magic of the blood demanded living flesh to be sacrificed - be it animal, human or even demon. Instead of doing what any other witch would do, Becca chose to use her own. However, it came at a price. Mercy was not something Hell offered generously.
After what seemed like hours, only when the water started to run cold, did she turn it off. Taking an inner inventory, Becca noticed she still felt off-balance but hoped she was doing better than before. Grabbing her towel, Becca stepped out of the stall.
Without warning, her legs gave in and her vision wavered, darkened. Her hands reached out, grasping blindly until she got a hold of the sink. This time before her face kissed the floor. Bracing herself with shaking hands, Becca used the shocking cold of the ceramic to find her way back into her body.
There is a dying bird in the other room, the emptiness coaxed again.
Lifting her head, her ghost-like reflection smiled back at her from inside the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize herself and that was enough to make her admit - even if only to herself - that maybe it had been too much in too short a time.
Could she do it?
She needed to be in fighting or even functioning condition, after all. And at the moment she was far from it. Becca knew she needed to be at her best, needed to be strong – not for her soul, but for Quinn’s. After what she had done, and would do again, she knew her soul was nothing close to redeemable.
What would be the harm then?
Life in Hell was not an easy one. Souls were the currency, yes, but also the measure of a demon’s life. Becca wasn’t proud of herself, or the fact that she hadn’t found a way around the clause. But in the end she had been left with no choice. She had gone to the human realms and claimed souls. Knowing it had to be done to avoid being questioned or even killed for not meeting her quota didn’t make it easier.
Trying her balance, Becca carefully stepped away from the basin. Her legs felt like noodles, her hands shook wildly. She couldn’t remember how she walked into Quinn’s room and ended up with the wounded bird in her hand, but when she felt its heartbeat fluttering like a military drum roll against her palm, she woke out of her trance.
There was not much life left in the small body. The wings were snapped in several places; its feathers had been ripped out or were coated in blood. Her heart cried out, her decision made.
As quickly as her shaky legs would allow it, Becca went back into her room. Ignoring the air cooling her still damp skin.
After she locked the door and acting on automaton, she grabbed what she needed and drew the despised pentagram on the wooden floor, positioning and lighting candles at each point. Taking her place in the center, Becca carefully laid the bird down in front of her, making sure to avoid touching its broken wings. Starting the chant, her voice a low melodic rumble in the silence of her room, she sprinkled butterfly dust into the flames.
Transformation. Power from one form to the other.
Swallowing with her dagger in hand, she braced herself for the next part. But when a prayer suddenly escaped her lips, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was a demon. Hell-bound. Why should anyone bother to listen?
In one swift move she cut the bird’s throat. Her heart cried out and the emptiness inside her laughed. Guilt was a heavy weight, and was further burdened as she felt the spell take a hold. Strength claimed her veins while her heart picked up a healthy pace. Even that small, dying spark of life was enough to give her something akin to a high. Her body wasn’t used to true magic, and her heart couldn’t handle it either.
Becca had no clue how long she sat there. Naked, blood on her hands and tears running down her cheeks. To most it was just a bird. To her it was another strike against her. But also another soul to redeem.
Determination flared.
She couldn’t be saved, but she would try her damned best to make sure others could.
EIGHT
Sli was more than stunned when she stepped through a white door and found herself standing in a meadow. Summer green fields provided enough space for rows upon rows of seating that stretched out seemingly endless to both sides of a centre aisle. They were filled with people of all ages and walks of life. Their chatter a constant hum that reminded her of a bee hive.
At a clicking sound behind her, Sli whirled around. The door she had just walked through was gone. Only a sea of grass stirring gently in the breeze and more seated people remained.
Right. An open-air administrative center. Well, that was new to say the least. Sli wouldn’t have thought them capable of coming
up with something as original as this.
Out of habit her eyes searched for exits but found none. Hmm. At least none that were easily accessible, anyway.
“Number 85 725 in office 9,”a lifeless but definitely female voice announced out of nowhere. Sli’s attention was drawn to a middle-aged man who got up from his spot among the people waiting.
Frowning, Sli took in the single row of offices spreading to the left and right as far as her eyes could see. Their high walls were made of glass that tempted people to spy but turned milky and gave nothing away when the cubicle was occupied. Behind the offices were two exits. Enormous in their dimensions, they commanded this in-between world; one reaching for the sky while the other disappeared into the ground. The huge gate on the left gleamed beautiful gold in the sunlight and guarded a staircase spiraling into the clouds. It was locked. The exit on the right, however, reminded her of the entrance to a fancy movie house; lush red carpet and golden railings illuminated by warm lights. A man and a woman, dressed in fancy clothes as beautiful as any Hollywood actors, moved to the popular music playing in the background. Their smiles invited you to join.
“Number 85 726 in office 4.”
This was definitely not what Sli had expected.
The voice rang out again, slightly piqued this time. “Please, take a number.”
Heads turned to glance at her, curiosity in some eyes and dread in others.
Sli’s gaze finally fell on the reception desk about ten yards away from her and found the origin of the voice. Enjoying the soft carpet of grass cushioning her sneakers, she walked up to the counter.
The woman behind it was in her late-forties, Sli guessed. Wearing a blouse that was a soft shade of pink which suited the band of pearls around her neck and half-moon glasses perched on the tip of her nose, she would have served as the perfect model of a clichéd librarian. A vigilant hawk.
“Hello.”
“Hello, young lady. Let’s open up a file for you, shall we?” A perfect, fake nail tapped against a small machine that was set on top of the counter.
Ebony Fight (The Guard Duet Book 2) Page 5