They shove me hard into a side room before we make it to the main bar and I go skidding across the floor to land at the edge of a raised Dais.
“Welcome Robert Jones. You may address me as Villatonio and you may address her as Lilliante.” A deep baritone voice booms out as I start to pull myself to my feet.
“Indeed, welcome please have a seat.” A husky contralto voice tells me in a sly amused tone.
On the Dais are two thrones, a man sits in one and a woman sits in the other. They are both Elder Fey and are dressed in the dyed green leathers that mark them as members of The Hunt. Each is also wearing a black cloak fastened at the throat with copper broaches of some kind.
Being Fey, they are both impossibly attractive of course, but in a harder edged way than the younger Fey that brought me here. They have lived centuries longer and that experience has marked them in subtle ways.
They both stare unblinkingly at me for a long moment, waiting for me to obey her order and sit in the chair facing them.
“I would rather stand.” I tell them politely.
She sighs dramaticly and waves her hand slightly.
The compulsion spell hits me and I twitch like a marionette with epilisy and lurch my way over to the chair and sit down so hard, I am sure that my ass will have bruises later.
“Or maybe, I will sit after all.” I tell her less politely.
“He doesn’t look like much.” He tells her in a skeptical tone, turning to look at her and ignoring me.
Yeah, never gets old hearing that line.
She shrugs without answering and sketches a rune in the air in front of her, hissing a few words under her breath as she does so. A trickle of her power, visiable as a glowing green thread, snakes out of her fingertips and touches the wound on my arm. It reopens it again and as the thread retreats, it brings a few drops of my blood back to her.
Sniffing at them, she flicks out her tounge daintily to taste them, an odd look crosses her face and she offers her companion a taste as well. He takes it and looks startled for a moment, before he turns his face back into a bored impassive mask.
Awkward really, sitting here watching them taste my blood.
“Um guys, this isn’t really something I am into. Maybe you could take out like a Craigslist ad, you know Elder Fey into blood sniffing, seeking Dabbler for weird threesome? Just saying.” I tell them weakly.
“You escaped The Hunt, not many can make that claim. You remain marked by it. One of our seers has made a prophecy that suggests one such as you, may figure into the troubles that come for all of us, for your realms and our own. Darkness approaches and we are desperately searching for any source of light to stand against it. Angels descend into madness, Lucifer walks your streets quietly chortling in glee at the mayhem to come and a race that none of us have paid close enough attention to, for far too long, have nearly completed their Great Machine.” The woman Fey tells me grandly.
God, the Fey like the sound of their own voices way too much.
“Blah blah, winter is coming. The night is long and full of terrors and all that happy bullshit. I can pretty much guarantee that I ain’t the chosen one you are looking for people.” I tell her.
Anger flashes across her face, she may not get the whole Game of Thrones reference, but she knows sarcasm and disrespect when she hears it.
She clenches her fist and I am suddenly consumed by pain, she doesn’t break eye contact until several long moments of agony have gone by. At last she unclenches her fist and the torture ends.
“That being said Dabbler, you will remain here with us, until we have determined that very thing for ourselves.”
Then they put their damn heads together and ignore me while they whisper back and forth to each other.
Like a couple of middle schoolers in junior fucking high school.
Chapter Nine
After awhile, they stop whispering to each other and go back to staring intently at me. I think I liked it better when they were ignoring me. Their faces are unreadable, they should really consider going pro at poker or something, because it is like being stared at by living statues.
“Robert Jones, what did the Angel’s puppet whisper in your ear?” She asks me out of nowhere.
Now just how the hell did they know about that? Their henchmen grabbed me outside of the restaurant, there was no way they saw us way in the back, inside the restaurant.
“None of your business.” I tell her flatly. Those words are a private matter to me, spoken at the cost of a life.
“That wasn’t it, we know that it was seven words.” She tells me with a puzzled tone to her voice.
Oh yeah, this is going to be fun.
“I mean that those words were spoken to me and I am disinclined to share them with you.” I do my best to clarify it for her.
“We could encourage you to be more cooperative and forthcoming.” She reminds me darkly.
“Why do you want to know? What possible difference could it make to you? While we are at how and why, were you spying on us?” Hoping maybe a few questions of my own will shift attention away from the idea of torturing me.
Always worth a shot.
She snaps her fingers and a largish spider floats down from the ceiling to dangle in front of my face, on a long strand of web.
“We have eyes and ears everywhere.” She informs me with a graceful shrug of her shoulders. Another snap of her slender fingers and the damn thing scurries back up its strand of web.
I give a little shiver, I fucking hate spiders.
“Ok, that explains the how, but what about the why?” I demand, mostly to keep them talking instead of inflicting pain.
Sounds like a good plan to me.
They exchange a glance and then turn their attention back to me. When she answers, it is with more of a sarcastic tone than you would think a Fey Elder could manage.
“That is, as you say, none of your business.”
There is a knock at the door and a Brownie comes in bearing a message scroll on a silver tray. They all look alike to me, but I suspect that she is the same one that waited on us the last time I was here.
Why do I suspect that?
All of the hands not holding the tray are giving me the finger.
She bows deeply before Villatonio and offers him the message on the tray. He takes it and dismisses her with a absent wave of his hand, she wastes no time scurrying out, but gives me a wink as she goes by.
Villatonio reads the message intently and then hands it to her. She reads it and gives him a startled glance before carefully rebuilding her poker face.
“Curiouser and curiouser.” She mutters under her breath, as she tosses the message into the air where it vanishes in a puff of smoke.
They both stand up and step off of the Dias to stand directly in front of me. Looming over and looking down at me with those damn empty expressions.
“We have been instructed to let you go, Robert Jones. We apologize for the inconvenience. You will be escorted to the door back to your world and you are free to go. Our business, is for the time being at least, concluded.” Lilliante tells me in a formal tone.
“For realsies?” I ask wondering if it is ok to just stand up and start the whole leaving thing or if this is a trick of some kind.
Villatonio reaches down and pulls me, none too gently, to my feet, giving me a little shake before putting me back down.
“For realsies.” He says with the hint of an edge to his voice.
And then they both just walk out of the room.
Leaving me standing there, wondering just what in the actual fuck is going on and not all that hopeful about getting any answers to that burning question.
The Ogre sticks his large head into the room and points at me impatiently.
“Well come on then you big twat waffle, get a move on, I aint got all day. I am to walk you out and could your sorry ass please stay the fuck gone this time?”
Without waiting for me to answer, he turns around and leaves
and I hustle to catch up with him before anybody changes their mind about letting me go.
Which, I pretty much worrying about happening every step of the long walk back to the door I got carried through earlier, but it doesn’t .
In the end he just opens the door and waves me impatiently through it.
He does slam it a little harder, than strictly speaking was polite, after I step through it though, but I try not to let it hurt my feelings.
Chapter Ten
Time runs differently between our world and the realm of The Fey, so I am not surprised to see that night has fallen as I come through the door the grumpy ass ogre just rushed me through.
I am just a little surprised to see Marcus standing there with a flaming magical sword though.
He looks surprised to see me alive.
All things considered, hell, I am a little surprised my damn self.
“You escaped?” He asks, frankly his dubious tone is just a little insulting. I mean, I didn’t escape, but who is to say that such a feet was beyond me?
Well, just about everybody I suppose.
“No, they let me go.” I tell him with a shrug.
The sword vanishes from hand in a muted flash of light and a slight popping noise. He pulls out a his cellphone and hits a speed dial number.
“I have him, he is ok. We are coming home.” He says into it and then he puts it away.
“Thanks for the attempted rescue.” I tell him reaching out to give his shoulder a quick squeeze.
He looks startled for a moment, but then a ragged tired grin flashes quickly across his face.
“Well brother, against all advice and my own best judgements, you are what amounts to my best friend. Of course I tried to rescue your dumb ass, but not with much luck, they strengthened the wards on their boundries to the point that I can’t seem to breach them. Which doesn’t give me a warm fuzzy feeling about how the Fey feel about the current state of our world.” His voice has worried tones in it, that worry me.
My friend has considerable power and has been around a long time and isn’t afraid of a whole hell of a lot of things.
When he worries, my Dabbler ass better worry a lot more.
There is a soft feminine giggle behind us, beneath the girlish sound is a dark chilling hint of the power inhabiting the being making it.
Lucifer.
“Evening boys! Hope I am not interrupting your little bromance?” Her voice is sly with the fallen Angels trademark, cruel amusement.
A slim Japanese schoolgirl stands under a streetlamp smiling at us with one eyebrow arched. She winks and then lauches herself into a series of cartwheels to land a few feet in front of us.
“Ta Da!” She shouts throwing her hands into the air.
“Fuck off.” I tell her through clenched teeth.
Her eyes flash red for such a brief instant, that I could almost believe I imagined it, except for the equally brief spasm of pain that twists my belly into burning hot knots.
“Manners.” She chides waving a delicate finger at me mockingly, the pain is gone, but we both know just how fast it can come back.
“What do you want?” Marcus asks politely, because he is and always has been smarter than me.
“Oh just to chat, catch up a little. We never hang out anymore.” She tells us with a pout.
I know better than to ask the question burning in my mind, even as I struggle against the impulse to ask, I know that Lucifer won’t answer and that he will delight in my weakness in even asking.
Yeah, that struggle against the impulse doesn’t last long.
“What does she owe you? Tell me!” I demand and I am immediately ashamed of the desperate weakness in my own voice.
This earns me another waving of the finger and a softly muttered tsk tsk tsk, like an exasperated mother talking to a petulant, unruly child.
“That is between your lady love and I, my little Dabbler friend. No worries though, things are coming to a head nicely and that little tidbit of information shall be revealed sooner rather than later now.”
Lucifer breathes a deep breathe and slowly lets it out again, a look of almost orgasmic pleasure ripples in obscene slow motion across the pretty young face he is wearing.
“I wish you could feel it, taste and smell it like I do. The coming tide of darkness I mean. Forces beyond your puny reckoning have brought us all to this point, vast games are being played out and one holds out hope that the balance has shifted and soon it will be a whole new playing field. Already it has begun, listen for a moment.” He cups a hand to his ear and puts a finger to his lips.
Sirens fill the night, lots of sirens, even for a late night during peak tourist season in Vegas. Marcus and I exchange a startled glance, I can hear ambulances and firetrucks, as well as police cars.
They all seem to be racing to different places in the city.
As we listen they fade and normal sounds rush back in to fill the night again. Lucifer giggles obscenely again and turns her attention back to us.
“So you are here to gloat then? Doesn’t seem like a valuable use of someone of your ranks time.” Marcus puts as much scorn into his voice as he dares, just enough for the fallen angel to hear, but perhaps not enough for him to take offense at.
“No, like I said, just catching up. You two have been busy little bees now haven’t you? Meeting with Angels, consorting with the Fey. One wonders just what the Elders wanted with the likes of you, Robert Jones.” She asks in a casual tone.
It would be smart to answer and just tell him the truth, that what they really wanted beats the shit out of me. Give up the few scraps of info about what happened that I have and hope he goes about his demonic business and leaves us the hell alone.
Yeah, that would be the smart thing.
But like my daddy always told me, I ain’t smart enough to be afraid of anything.
“Well Lucy, old pal. That would be between me and them. No worries though, things are coming to a head nicely and that little tidbit of information shall be revealed sooner rather than later now.”
Marcus sucks in a breath and I feel him pulling in power to come to my defense, I touch his sleeve and shake my head no at him. Lucifer and I spend a long tense moment just looking at each other.
A smirk steals slowly across his borrowed face and he does a litte odd half courtesy, half bow towards me.
“Well played Dabbler, well played. You continue to amaze and entertain me. In the spirit of that, I leave you both with a little parting gift of sorts.”
She snaps her fingers and two pairs of Blues Brothers style dark glasses appear and float over to us. We both grab them out of the air at the same time.
“Put them on and look towards the heavens gentlemen.” She tells us in a bright cheerful tone.
Then all amusement leaves her voice and we get a glimpse of that which lives within the shell that he is inhabiting.
Her eyes flash red again and a wave of very warm brimstone scented air hits us, the heat from it reddening our skin and the stench sending us into coughing fits. When she speaks again her voice has deepened and all but echoes with the power barely contained in it. The sidewalk that she is standing on cracks and begins to scortch and bubble.
“I think that you will find them a revelation.”
With that she vanishes.
We stand there for a long moment looking at the glasses and then at each other and then at the glasses again.
“Well, this is probably going to suck.” Marcus says grimly.
“No doubt.” I tell him ruefully.
Marcus sighs and stares up at the sky for a minute before looking back at the glasses again.
“On three then? One..two..three.” He says and then we both put on the glasses and look up as instructed.
The stars have all vanished from view, the night sky is a dark murky mess of dark clouds lit from within by smouldering shades of orange, yellow and red. There is just enough light to see what is flying through that night sky.
&nbs
p; Flights of Angels silently and relentlessly circling high above Vegas, like vultures patiently circling a dying animal.
Most of them flying in neat precise formations, but some are following mad orbits of their own through the darkness above us.
One of those falls in a glowing arc towards the streets below and at that moment we hear a fresh wave of sirens.
“ Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” I say outloud in a hushed tone.
Chapter Eleven
“You always did have a way with words.” Marcus says tightly as he takes off the glasses and flings them away in disgust.
They vanish with a puff of nasty smelling smoke.
“Now what?” I ask quietly, still shaken by what we just got done looking at and struggling to come to terms with what it may mean.
“Bloody hell if I know brother, I need to wrap my head around this. But for now, I promised your lady that I would get you home in one piece and that is pretty much my goal for the rest of the night.” He says with a shrug.
“I have beer at home.” I offer with a weak grin.
“Always a solid beginning to any new plan.” He gives me a weak grin right back at me.
Just then a huge wolf staggers out of a nearby alley. It has blood all over its muzzle that likely belongs to something else, but there is blood all over it, that is clearly its own.
It limps closer to us, strained whimpers coming from it speaking of the pain that it is costing it to do so.
The wolf collaspes at our feet and goes into massive convuslison signaling that it is trying to change back into its human form. A howl erupts from it that slowly twists into the ugly sound of a very tough man screaming in unbearable pain.
Then Dominique, Packmaster of one of the bigger packs in Vegas is lying gasping for air and reaching up a gore soaked hand towards us imploringly.
“They are killing us, help…” He shrieks.
And then he passes out.
“Ok then, we may need a new plan.” Marcus tells me solemnly pointing at the bleeding Packmaster.
“Keen observation there Sherlock.” I tell him as I kneel down and check for a pulse on the Were, the one that held a deep burning undying hatred for me and had many times promised to tear me to bloody pieces and then eat those quivering pieces. Lately the only thing stopping him from making good that promise, was the no harm order that The Council had put out on me. This is the first time I have seen him since magically giving him a little shove into a bon fire, during what my lady love calls the difficulities of a few months ago.
Sin City Angels Page 4