After a time, the children slept, and Evangeline felt her weariness overcome her. She did not know why Lucifer had not come for her already. She knew that if he was able, he would have been at her side. He should have felt the life force of the children as they were born. He should have been there to bless them with his grace, to mark them as his for all time.
So their enemies must have him, as they had imprisoned Evangeline. And she knew the Morningstar would not want his sons endangered, so she must stay far from him. But she also knew that the one who had escaped her wrath, the green-eyed one, would return for her and the little boys who slept so sweetly now in her arms. She was very weak from the escape, and the birthing, and she did not know if she could call forth the Morningstar’s power again.
Her grief and fear threatened to overwhelm her. She was just a lost and helpless girl, a girl who had wandered out in the night and seen a being so terrible and beautiful that she could not help but be ensnared by love for him.
Now her love was gone and she was alone with his sons, two boys who would need guidance and care from one who would understand their power. Evangeline could not give them this. Her powers were a borrowed gift; she did not understand their source nor how to teach her children.
She cried, and her tears fell on the faces of her sleeping boys, and they shifted and fussed in their sleep. She held them tight to her chest and sobbed out her grief and fear, and she whispered, “Help me.”
Her eyes were closed and her sons were warm against her chest but it seemed that suddenly the sun had grown brighter, and her eyelids burned in the light. She opened her eyes and then turned her face away, for before her was a being of such purity that it shone with a light far brighter than the sun.
He was as lovely as her Morningstar, but his wings were whiter than the snow on the capped peaks of the mountains. His eyes were as blue as the jewels that studded the walls of the Morningstar’s palace. And his hair was fairer than the yellow sand that sifted beneath her feet.
“Who are you?” she asked, and she trembled in her heart, for she was a little afraid of the answer.
He did not speak aloud, but into her mind. He told her that he was called Michael, and that long ago, he and Lucifer had been almost as one, as close as the two boys that she snuggled in her arms. Then Lucifer and his Grigori fell, and Michael grieved at their separation. So he kept watch, always. He was not permitted by law to aid Lucifer, but he could help Evangeline and her children.
“How?” she asked.
Lucifer’s enemies will always hunt you, he said. He told her that he could disguise the children from those who desired the death of the Morningstar, that he could infuse them with his grace so that no one would recognize them as coming from Lucifer’s line. He could raise them as his own, and teach them the ways of their powers. They would be safe, and grow in goodness and light, but they would never be able to return to Lucifer again.
Evangeline bowed her head and held her children tightly, and felt a piece of her heart fall away.
You must choose, Michael said, and his eyes were gentle and knowing.
Evangeline stood, and looked to the east, where the first star of the morning would rise.
“Good-bye, my love,” she said. She must protect his sons. That was her duty now.
Michael reached for her, and she placed her frozen hand in his burning one. A tear slipped from her cheek and melted in the sand.
As Michael bore them away from her life and her love, Evangeline saw something golden moving on the mountaintop, and she knew that a pair of blazing green eyes followed her with hate.
16
I OPENED MY EYES, AND FOUND THAT GABRIEL HAD covered me with one of the blankets, a very warm, red fleece one. Azazel stood with his back to me, looking into the fireplace. So much for my sneaking away from the court unnoticed.
Gabriel sat on a hassock beside me, as I expected he would be, his brows knit together in a frown. He relaxed visibly when I looked at him.
“You are well?” he asked. He made no move to touch me, and I felt bereft. But I understood why he didn’t.
“I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I am getting really sick of passing out. I’m starting to feel like Giles on Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” I said, and sat up. “And I’m getting a very bad suspicion about why I’m having these visions of Evangeline.”
Azazel turned at that, and his eyes were unreadable. Was he relieved that I was safe and healthy? Was he plotting the next move with his very valuable pawn—me? And why hadn’t he told Lucifer about my visions of Evangeline yet?
“I am glad that you are well, Daughter,” he said.
The question was on my lips, so I asked him. “Why haven’t you told Lucifer of my visions of Evangeline?”
Azazel paused, and I could see him weighing and discarding information in an instant. Apparently I was on a need-to-know basis. There seemed to be a lot of that going around.
“The Lost Mother is a very sensitive issue for Lord Lucifer. It is imperative that we not bring him this information until we are certain what it means.”
“I’ve got an idea what it means,” I said grimly. “I think Lucifer is my great-great-great-how-ever-many-freakingreats-it-is-granddad.”
I could see that I had shocked both of them. Azazel shook his head decisively, and I could read his face easily—No, it is impossible.
Gabriel said it. “That is impossible.”
“Why? Nobody knows what happened to Evangeline, right? And I’ve had a vision of her giving birth to Lucifer’s children, and those children were hidden by another angel.”
“Another angel?” Azazel asked. “Who?”
“Michael.”
“Michael. Of course. They were as brothers, once upon a time,” Azazel said, and there was wonder in his voice. “But Lord Lucifer would know if you were of his bloodline. You would be marked by his power, and he would be able to trace you and every other member of his line by this mark.”
“That’s the thing. I think I am marked by his power,” I said, and threw off the blanket so that I could pace restlessly around the room. I was less than thrilled by the idea that I might be related to Lucifer. I had more than my share of problems already. “In my vision, Evangeline destroyed her captors and the place where they held her with a starburst.”
Gabriel’s mouth fell open at that. It was comical to see him lose his ever-steady composure. “The same power that you used on Ramuell?”
I nodded.
Azazel moved toward me, and I could see he was thinking fast. Meteors streamed in rapid succession across the blackness of space in his eyes. He gripped my shoulders and held my gaze with his own burning one.
“Daughter, it is imperative, imperative, that you share this information with no one. If there is even a hint, a whisper, that you might be the descendant of Lucifer, then his enemies would fall upon you like the plagues of Egypt.”
“You mean the way your enemies have already descended on me?” I said, and knew that my eyes reflected his own. I was already sick to death of Azazel’s world.
Azazel’s eyes hardened. “Antares will be punished for harming you. He has broken the law of my court and he is an outcast.”
“But, my lord,” Gabriel said. “How could it be that she carries Lucifer’s power and yet is still unknown to him? This would mean that Katherine Black also came of his bloodline, and all her ancestry.”
This thought had clearly not occurred to Azazel yet, and it visibly disturbed him. I don’t know if it was the idea that my mother might have deliberately kept information from him, or simply that he had been the lover of Lucifer’s descendant. Either way, he didn’t look happy about it. I was going to tell about the infused-with-Michael’s-grace thing, but I suddenly recalled that I had other tasks to do that day.
“Wait a second,” I said. “What time is it?”
Gabriel glanced at the face of his cell phone. “Nine forty-two.”
“Holy crap! We have to go. I have an appoin
tment with J.B. in an hour. And I’m supposed to get some souls today, but I can’t remember what time I was supposed to do it,” I said, rushing to Gabriel’s side. “Make that portal thing happen.”
“Wait a moment, Daughter.” Azazel’s eyes were narrowed. “I have not given you leave to depart.”
The hierarchy and formality of this court already made me insane, and I had been there for only a few hours. I didn’t have time to massage Azazel’s ego. I had things to do.
“I apologize, Father,” I said stiffly, resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to roll my eyes. “I have my responsibilities to attend.”
His face softened. “How like your mother you are. She, too, was always leaving me to tend to human souls. I wonder how Nathaniel will take it.”
He chuckled at this thought and I was very careful not to look at Gabriel.
“Do I have your permission to leave?” I asked, impatient to be off.
“Of course, my daughter. And I will see you fourteen days hence in this court. Although I am sure that you will be seeing Nathaniel much sooner.”
Azazel came to stand in front of me and he kissed both of my cheeks. “Go with the grace of the Morningstar.”
“See you in a couple of weeks,” I said awkwardly. “Can we make the portal here?”
“I think it is better, yes, that you do not return through the court. But first, I need to have a word with Gabriel.”
He drew Gabriel toward the corner of the room near the rocking chair and he whispered some instructions in such a low tone that I could barely tell he was speaking. Gabriel nodded and then came back to stand at my side.
“You are ready?” Gabriel asked.
I grinned at him, eager to be away. “There’s no place like home.”
Beezle was on me the second I landed in the backyard. And I do mean “on me.” He fluttered to my shoulder, dug in his claws and started firing off questions about what had happened and what had Azazel said and had anybody been rude to me and so on and so on and so on.
Gabriel emerged from the portal and helped me up.
“Beezle, calm down. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I’ve got to find my list.” As we mounted the porch and went up the inside back stairs to the door that led into my kitchen, I asked Gabriel, “What did Azazel say to you?”
“He said that I was not to leave your side under any circumstance until Ramuell is re-bound in the Valley of Sorrows. If you come to harm, it will be on my head.”
“Or off with your head, as the case may be. He’s got quite a Red Queen streak, does dear old Dad,” I said dryly.
“Red Queen?”
“From Alice in Wonderland? The Red Queen was always coming up with excuses to have people’s heads chopped off.” I started rummaging in the pile of mail on the sideboard. I knew I had left my list there somewhere.
“I did warn you that you needed to be careful.”
“What happened?” asked Beezle, who had been sulking because I’d put off describing the trip.
“Azazel had Greenwitch’s head cut off for no apparent reason,” I said, distracted. That was all I needed—to miss a pickup and have J.B. on my ass.
“Greenwitch? The crazy lady who sold you the charm last night? The one who tried to blast you into oblivion?”
“That’s the one,” I said. “Oh, and did you know that she was Antares’s mother?”
Beezle flew off my shoulder and fluttered around, looking anxious. “No, I didn’t know that. That means that she was a demon.”
“Yeah, that’s what Azazel said.” Where was that list?
“But I didn’t see that when we went to her house.” He sounded so distressed that I stopped searching for the list and glanced up at him.
“What’s the problem?”
“I should have been able to see that she was demonic. I should have been able to see through every layer of reality to her core essence. That is my gift as a gargoyle. But I couldn’t see her.”
“So Greenwitch has discovered a way to disguise her true essence, not simply her physical appearance,” Gabriel said slowly, meeting Beezle’s frightened eyes. “If this is true, then others could have discovered her trick as well, or borrowed the way of it from Greenwitch.”
I was tired and distracted, and had difficulty grasping the import of this discussion. “So what?”
“So if what you believe is true—that Ramuell has another half-nephilim child—then that child or his mother could have disguised his essence and his presence from Lucifer. It would mean that your theory is correct, and that there is only one puppet master for Ramuell—his own child. My half sibling.”
“So if we can find the master, then we can find Ramuell, and shut down the whole operation,” I said. “And I still think the key to finding Ramuell is tracing his victims.”
“I agree,” Gabriel said.
“I’ll get J.B. to let us into the Hall of Records. He should be a little more amenable to it now that he’s had a close encounter of the demon kind.”
I glanced down and realized I held my list in my hand. I had to pick up three souls at two thirty-seven on Lake Shore Drive. All the souls had the same last name. That meant it was probably a car accident, and that I would be picking up a family. On the one hand, families tended to like to stay together, so they usually all chose the Door and made my job as an Agent a lot easier. On the other hand, the human in me was always a little upset by these deaths. It was difficult to take kids to the Door, knowing all their promise had been snuffed out and it was the last choice they would ever make.
Beezle still hovered anxiously, his eyes huge and worried.
“Hey, Beezle, hey, it’s all right. You’re still the best guardian a girl could ever have,” I said, and held out my hand so that he could land on it.
He was heavier than he used to be. He needed to lay off the popcorn and chocolate or his wings weren’t going to be able to hold him anymore.
“What if I can’t protect you?” he whispered. “What would Katherine say?”
“Beezle,” I said. “Greenwitch was an exceptionally powerful demon—Azazel told me himself. I’m certain that there are very few creatures who could disguise their essence the way that she could.”
“But what if there is another nephilim out there, hidden from us? That nephilim is not included in Katherine’s circle of protection. It could walk up to the front door and I would never know it wasn’t human.”
I thought of Ramuell’s burnt cinnamon smell and how the smell had warned me in the alley of his presence just in time. “Would you be able to smell it?”
Both Gabriel and Beezle did the blank-stare thing.
“You know, that cinnamony smell that anything angelic seems to have.”
“Madeline, what are you talking about?” Gabriel said.
“Azazel smells like cinnamon, and so did Nathaniel. Ramuell smells like burnt cinnamon and sulfur. Antares smells mostly like sulfur with an undertone of cinnamon. You haven’t noticed this?”
Gabriel looked intrigued. “And myself?”
I felt blood heating my cheeks. “Apple pie, more or less. Cinnamon and sugar and cloves.”
“I have never noticed a particular smell of angelic beings before,” Gabriel said. “Gargoyle?”
“Me neither. Are you sure it’s not in your head?” Beezle patted my forehead. I wasn’t sure if he was checking for a fever or for signs of the crazies.
I pushed his hand away, annoyed. “It’s not in my head.”
They both looked doubtful.
A thought occurred to me. “Gabriel, if there is another nephilim child, and that child’s essence is disguised, isn’t it likely that Greenwitch helped hide the child from Lucifer?” I asked. “Like I said, there can’t be that many creatures that could disguise their essence the way she could.”
“I suppose it is probably so. But what would be her motive for doing such a thing? She was Antares’s mother, and as such held a place of status in your father’s court.”
<
br /> “I don’t know why she would do it. I just want to know if it’s likely.”
Gabriel nodded. “Very likely, I would think.”
“Then would we be able to trace the mark of Greenwitch’s magic? Couldn’t we find this disguised nephilim that way? Since my cinnamon-scent test appears to have gained no votes,” I said, sticking my tongue out at Beezle.
Gabriel smiled at me. “Yes. Yes, we could. It would take some doing, but if I had the sense of her magic, then I could use it to trace anyone she had hidden. Madeline, that is brilliant.”
I shrugged, all false modesty. “I know. Now I’ve got to go. Beezle, it’s going to be okay. Guard the domicile, and I will see you in a little while.”
Beezle said nothing, just flew down the hall and out the front window with a frown on his face. It wasn’t like Beezle to send me off without a word, and I stared after him.
“The gargoyle is taking the truth of Greenwitch very hard,” Gabriel observed. “This has cut him to the core of his existence. If he cannot see through the layers of magic, then his life is meaningless.”
“His life is not meaningless,” I said heatedly. “He’s my best friend, and he’ll always be that, even if he isn’t my guardian. Let’s go.”
I thought of the office downtown and felt my wings expand on my back. I flew from the kitchen without another word. I didn’t need to see him to know that Gabriel was right behind me.
The office was busier than usual when we arrived. It seemed that while I was at Azazel’s court, there had been a train accident that left several souls to take. Several souls equaled more paperwork, so it took J.B. a while before he could see us. When we finally managed to get into his office, I told J.B. what I thought he needed to know—that Ramuell was a nephilim, that nephilim were the children of the Grigori and human women, that my father was a Grigori, and that it was my job to track down Ramuell. He expressed a lot of disbelief, and more than a little annoyance, when I explained that I was going to need six days off each month, and that I couldn’t tell him exactly why but that it was a family matter. I was subjected to a little rant about the importance of my responsibilities as an Agent.
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