by Tom Keller
"Sure," I replied, squeezing around her to reach it. The Airstream is a luxury trailer, but even so, there wasn't a lot of room in the walkway. I grabbed the coffee from the pantry as she turned around.
"Jasmine said you were difficult, "she observed. "But come on Jay, really?"
"Difficult? I'm not sure I know what you mean," I replied, suddenly aware of how close we were. I'd never been this awkward around a woman before; but like I'd told Jazzy, it had been quite a while since I'd been with a human, even if this one was a Witch.
"Am I missing something here?" she asked, putting her finger to her cheek. "Let's see. You did tell me I was beautiful, right? And I think we had a nice time talking outside." She pulled her hand away and started counting down with her fingers. "But you've had at least, what, five opportunities to kiss me? And I'm still waiting. So, what's the problem? Is there someone else? Is it me? I know I'm a Witch, but…"
"No," I said, putting my finger on her lips. "It has nothing to do with you being a Witch. If anything, that makes you even more special; and no, there's no one else. Everything you've said is true. I do think you're beautiful and I have had a wonderful time."
"Then what?" she replied. "That's it? Let's have a cup of coffee and I'll see you later? That doesn't sound like someone who had a wonderful time."
"I'm sorry," I said, awkwardly. "I'm not very good at this." I started to turn away, but she put her arms around my waist.
"Good at what?" she asked, pulling me tighter. "Is it something else? Talk to me."
Throw me in a room full of rampaging Demons, not a problem, I know exactly what to do. But put me in a room with a beautiful woman, and here I am stumbling over my own tongue. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, it was something else, too. Perhaps I was under a spell, but if I was, she hadn’t used witchcraft. It was something much more human, but just as powerful.
I leaned forward and kissed her. Small kisses at first, but then longer and with more passion. I savored each one. I picked her up and sat her on the counter. It was almost too narrow, but she wrapped her legs around my waist and we kissed some more. Later, I pulled back slowly, watching as her eyes opened.
"Better?" I asked.
"Mmm…" she whispered, moving her hands up to the back of my neck and pulling me closer. "But I think you we need to try that again, just to be sure."
****
Jazzy picked me up a little after daybreak. Not surprisingly, she knew exactly where I'd be.
Chapter 9
"Neat trick last night," Jazzy said, driving down the road heading back to the Mission. She was driving slowly this time, to give her more time to play 20 questions. "They're opinion of us went up more than a few notches after you came back with the Elf ale."
"It was nice of them to invite us," I replied. "I figured I owed them some Fae hospitality in return."
"Bullshit," Jazzy replied, suppressing a laugh. "You were showing off. I saw the way you were looking at Iris. It worked too."
"Okay, maybe a little," I said with a chuckle.
"I knew you two would hit it off," Jazzy said. "How did it go?"
"How did it go?" I said, looking over and rolling my eyes. "Didn't you just pick me up from her place? That should have been your first clue."
"I'm not asking if you slept with her," she countered. "I guessed that already. But how did it go? Are you going to see her again?"
"Probably," I admitted. "If she doesn’t decide that I'm too difficult, the way someone described me."
"Hey, I was doing you a favor," she said. "I knew it would take you forever to make the first move, and I didn’t want her to lose interest."
"I'm not sure if I…" I started to say, but Jazzy hit the brakes and came to a sudden stop.
"Something's up," she said, staring at our RV in the distance. She turned off the engine and stepped part way out of the Jeep, staring off into the distance.
"I'm not getting anything." I said, looking for any sign of danger. There were several new vehicles parked at the site, but that was to be expected. Jesse had been waiting for them when we left.
"Sorry," she said, suddenly relaxing. She sat back down. "Not that kind of danger." She started the engine and put it in gear. "Something's got the EAB riled up. Jesse's father is here."
"His father," I muttered, as she parked in the front of the RV. "What the hell is that about? This can’t be good."
"Mr. Hoskins, Miss Chibeaux, thank you for joining us," Javier Ordunez, Jesse's father and Chief Sorcerer of the EAB said as we opened the door.
"You're welcome, sir," I replied, as Jazzy and I came into the RV. Ordunez was standing in front of the dinette where Jesse was sitting. "Pardon me for asking, but to what do we owe the pleasure?"
"No need to be formal," he replied, turning around to reach for a cup of coffee. "We're all family here, as it were." He gestured toward the counter. "Pour yourselves a cup and have a seat."
We did as he asked, then sat down at the dinette across from them.
"I must confess," Ordunez began. "When I recommended your activation as a 55 unit, I did not expect results quite so soon. However not everyone will be happy about what you've uncovered here."
"What exactly have we uncovered?" I asked.
"That is a question that I am not yet ready to answer," he replied. "Not because I won't tell you, but because I do not yet know. What I can tell you is that there is precious little information about the Holy Order of Missionary Sisters of Alexander. That is the group's formal name. There are several references to Alexanders in Church history. The most well-known is a Christian soldier who was put to death in 313. But that tells us nothing. What little we do know is being followed up on as we speak. This is why I have a meeting scheduled with the Director later today on this very topic. He would like to hear from you as well. I suggest you pack up and head into town. After I finish my coffee, of course.
****
Four hours later we were pulling up to the EAB offices on East Cheyenne. I 'd parked the RV at my sister's place. Nikki had a new house not far from our father's. I'd been living with her since I moved back to Vegas earlier this year and she had a side yard that was big enough for it to fit. We checked in at the front entrance, then made our way to the conference room. Jim Slater, our control agent in the EAB, was already there. We took a seat and waited. The door opened, and Jesse's dad walked in with Director Samson.
"Let's go over what you have found," Samson said, taking a seat. "Hoskins. Give it to me from the beginning."
I went over everything that had happened. I started with our notification from Slater of the Demon activity that led us to the burglaries. When I was done with that, I told them about my investigative plan, what little of it there was, to continue working the case.
"I would like to note," I said, when I'd finished. "It was my decision to contact the Gnome. I was aware of our mission parameters and I take full responsibility for any breach of protocol."
"You were following up on a hunch," Samson stated. "That's what I pay you for, or at least I did. I don’t expect my 55s to be timid. But if you pull another stunt like the one with the Cyclops, I might have to reassess that position. I take it you have sufficient funds for what you need now?"
"More than adequate, sir," I replied with just the barest hint of a smile.
"Very well. Slater? What's the latest on this order?"
"The Holy Order of Missionary Sisters of Alexander," Jim began. "Believed to have been formed sometime in the fourth or fifth century. Other than their name, there's very little information about the organization recorded in the history books. They appeared here in the Americas sometime in the 1800s. There's no record of any Catholic bishop authorizing their mission, but we know that at least four Missions that used that name. Recorded documents place them in areas near Fort Worth, Santa Fe, Tucson, and Las Vegas. With the exception of the one near here, and the one in Texas, there's nothing that remains of the buildings that once housed them.
"
The locations in Tucson and Santa Fe are long gone. Development has passed beyond the areas where they once stood, and there are no records that can tell us their exact locations. In Texas, the property was sold back in 1967, which, by the way, is the latest documentation I could locate that mentions the order, and even then, it was only in a footnote. It's a warehouse district now, but we have agents looking for anything in the archives related to excavation or anything else of value. I'm still searching old newspapers and other sources, as well. I'll report anything that comes up. But other than a reference to bringing Christianity to the desert, I haven't been able to find much else yet."
"Thank you, Mr. Slater," Samson said, then looked over at Ordunez.
He stood and placed a thick cloth covered bundle on the table in front of him. Loosening the leather tie, he unrolled it to reveal a white handled sickle, made of iron. The handle was ornate, with the depiction of an angel and wings along its side.
"This was found in the chamber you discovered," Ordunez said. "The blade is cold made iron, probably from a meteorite, and its composition closely resembles that of the Egyptian dagger that Mr. Hoskins carries. The handle is made of the bone of an unknown creature, with embedded ornamentation. Depicted on this side, although somewhat worn, we can make out the face and wings of an Angel, and on the other..." He turned the sickle over to reveal the features of a Demon, with bat's wings and horns. "It was in an ornate case, but that is still being examined. Inlaid along both sides of the case are battle scenes in gold and silver. Warriors attacking a Demon with swords and daggers on one side, and warriors attacking an Angel on the other."
"That doesn't make any sense," Jazzy said. "Who would put something like that on a weapon? Whose side were they on?"
"That is the question, Miss Chibeaux." Ordunez noted. "But it may not have been a weapon in the traditional sense. We believe it to be a boline, a ritual knife used in the practice of witchcraft, one designed for the cutting and harvesting of herbs."
"A boline," I replied, looking over the ornamentation on the handle. "What is a Catholic order doing with that and a Grimoire? Who are they trying to hide them from?"
"Whether they were guarding them from others, or for some other purpose, the thought of these objects hidden within our borders for so long with us having no knowledge of their existence concerns me," Samson explained. "As does an unsanctioned secret society purporting to do good that hides them within their walls.
"If the Grimoire is dangerous, it should have been destroyed, or at least buried safely within the vaults of Rome, as is their custom for such things. While the boline may have been used as ceremonial tool, that cannot be said to have always been the case. In the right hands, the blade could easily dispatch a Demon or an Angel. We need to know why this book is so important that a Witch was willing to summon a Demon of such magnitude to obtain it. If Jay's sister is correct, and she is untrained, that makes it even more curious." He stood up, looking over at Ordunez before leaving the room. "Take charge of this personally. Keep me informed of further developments."
"There you have it," Ordunez said, rolling the sickle back into the cloth. "You heard the director. On paper, you're still a 55 team, but now you work for me. Slater will keep me apprised of your progress and Jesse can handle direct contact. That won’t be noticed by others in the office. I'll have detailed photos sent to you of all we recovered. Apex protocols are in effect." He stood and left the room, pausing at the doorway only long enough to look back at Jesse, who excused himself, and followed him out.
"I need a cigarette," Slater said to the two of us. "Care to join me?"
"Sure," I replied, standing. I followed him to the door, then paused. "Jazzy. You coming?"
"I'll wait for Jesse to get back," she replied, catching the headshake I gave her.
"I'll see you at the car then," I said, nodding, then followed Slater down a few hallways and out a side door that led into the parking garage.
These days, Jim Slater was our control officer, but he was much more than that to me. When I'd first been transferred to the EAB, I hadn't known shit about the magical world. It was all too new. Jim had been my training officer and had shown me the ropes. I thought I'd fought monsters in my old anti-terrorist unit, and for the most part, that was true. But the monsters here were of a different sort; and Jim had helped me prepare to face them. I couldn't tell you how old he was, but he'd been with the agency for a very long time.
The spot we'd stopped at was one he'd taken me to during those early days. It was usually to chew my ass when I'd forgotten to factor in magic in a situation; but sometimes, we'd just talk over a problem. It was beneath a floor used to protect weapons and artifacts. Whatever dampening spell they used to contain things wafted down and made this spot the perfect place for a private conversation.
"Want one?" he asked, holding out a silver pack. He took out a cigarette and patted it against the top of his thumb before placing it in his mouth.
"You know I don’t smoke," I replied.
"I keep forgetting you're not half-Demon," he said, the unlit cigarette dangling in his mouth. The tip flamed for a second then turned cherry red. "Thanks again for cutting me in on that booty deal. You didn't have to do that."
Hey," I replied. "We take care of our own, and we'd be out in the cold without you watching our back."
"I appreciate that," he said. "Even if the last part is true. But, I'm curious. What was your take on all of that?"
"I'm not sure why the Director had to hear from us," I replied. "Everything we said was already in our reports; but a few things come to mind."
"Such as?"
"We just got placed under the direct command of Ordunez," I replied. "That by itself is interesting. Although with Jesse on the team, it could come in handy. Not to say that working under someone at that level doesn’t already have its advantages, but it can just as easily work against us. He did mention earlier that he was the one who recommended us for this assignment, so that could be a factor. Also, he just upped our status level to Apex and made this a priority. 55 protocols were loose enough, even at Standard, but Apex pretty much gives us carte blanche to do whatever it takes. As for the Director, he's taken a personal interest in the case, and I don’t know why. We've dealt with these kind of groups before. While this one is troubling, it's not like it's anything new."
"Agreed," he said, puffing on his cigarette. He dropped it and stamped it out. "This is one of probably seven end of the world scenario's they're dealing with at the moment. He doesn’t usually get involved, let alone assign a case directly to Ordunez. It must be important to him. I think it's the sickle. I saw the complete report. They're still playing with the magic, but metallurgy indicates it's quite old, and the addition of the sculptured gold has me thinking that Jazzy asked the right question. Who would want to tell the world they were willing to battle both Angels and Demons?"
I stopped and pondered that for a moment. Samson was the son of one of the Fallen. His father had been killed in the battle that led to Lucifer being condemned to Hell. But still, he had no stake in that fight. His status as a half-Demon, no matter how powerful he had become, made him a pariah to both sides.
"Unless it's some kind of cult that relates to the Fallen," I finally said. "I can ask Rael. She's the last one standing, and has enemies on both sides."
"Well, we know she was betrayed by Beelzebub," Slater said, nodding in agreement. "The elaborate ruse and attack against her at the warehouse seems to be proof of that. While we can’t say that there's a connection, this and the fact that a Witch and a high-ranking Demon are connected to the Grimoire seems to me to be more than just a coincidence."
"Why would a convent be protecting something like that, anyway?" I asked. "Even if the nun act is just a front, no spell book is going to put Lucifer, or even Beelzebub, back into Heaven. That battle was lost long ago. If Samson knows something we don’t, he needs to let us in on it."
"Hard to say with him," he replied. "But anything
to do with the Fallen would naturally be of interest. Watch your ass out there. I'll do what I can to help you, but I won’t be the one out there in the muck if things go south, and neither will he."
Chapter 10
"They must really want you," I said, watching the group of three figures near the base of Lone Mountain. It was a couple of hours before sun up, and I was at the peak, looking over the park and a sleeping city. "What's this feud about, anyway?
"It happens every 1000 years or so," she replied. "There is no honor among thieves, or Demons. The last time was the late 1400s, as mortal's measure time. Beelzebub used the Inquisition as a cover to betray Lucifer. Like that time, this is another attempt to garner power. Neither are happy that I refused to ally myself with them. This is just posturing. It will pass."
"If you say so," I replied, watching the figures step onto the trail. "Looks like they're on their way up."
"We've got time," Rael said, gazing down at where I was pointing. "They're Subjugates, most likely had someone watching the place for weeks. It's no secret I've come here before. It's what I'd do if I was hunting one of us. But they're your problem, I'll be long gone before they ever make it up here."
"Thanks," I replied, not worried. Subjugates were humans that had cut a deal with the Devil, or one of his Demons, pledging themselves for something in return. If they hadn't already sold them, their souls weren't far behind. It wasn't illegal to sell your soul. Fame and fortune were the common themes. Sure, it was frowned upon, but as long as nobody else got hurt, it wasn't something we got involved in. It was their soul, after all.
I was guessing these were wannabe bounty hunters looking to get rich. Since Rael's feud with Beelzebub had put a price on her head that a lot of their kind would find quite tempting, they'd crossed the line into my world.
"Ask your questions," she said, as we sat back down on the rocks.
I told her about the Demons we'd encountered, about the Grimoire and the Carmel in the Desert, then waited to hear what she'd say.