Indebted

by Amy A. Bartol

  Shock creeps over me as the scent of blood fills the air and Altair crumbles headless to his knees. It is then that I discover that knowing the plan and executing it are two very, very different things. Seeing the brutality of Altair’s death makes me hesitate for a fraction of a second. When I recover, I pull my hands up out of the water and lift the wet, combat-ready, fully automatic machine gun complete with kick ass, banjax charms from the depths of the spa.

  Positioning the gun against my shoulder, I point it at Casimir and squeeze the trigger. A spray of bullets bursts forth, honing in on him. When the first bullet penetrates his thigh, spraying his blood on the wall of the bathroom, a small smile forms on my lips.

  In the next moment, my smile slips as Casimir literally shatters into a swarm of locusts again.

  “No,” I breathe, seeing my bullets gliding between the pieces of him.

  I drop my gun into the water and scramble out of the tub. My skin-tight body suit drips water onto the floor as I run towards the swarm of flying insects. Batting at the bugs with my hands, I am hurled backward off my feet by Casimir’s angelic silhouette of locusts. I crash into the vanity, toppling the perfume bottles and smashing the mirror into large shards of glass.

  Stunned for a moment, the flittering of hundreds of small, paper-like wings beating the air is all I can hear. Then, the locusts emit a piercing, insect-like noise. Covering my ears in agony, the noise reminds me of the orchestra of sound that bugs create on a summer night, but LOUD.

  I pull one hand from my ear and grasp one of the long, jagged shards of mirror, while getting to my feet. As I glance to the tub, Brennus is hunched over too, trying to cover his ears to blot out the intense noise. Next to him, the portal is still propped open on the edge of the tub.

  “BANJAX!” I shout, watching the swarm of locusts moving into the portal I have stupidly left open.

  The noise ends immediately as the last locust makes it into the portal. Standing up straighter, I want to scream in frustration. I let the fragment of glass slip from my fingers. It falls to the floor and shatters with a loud twinkling of sound.

  Brennus steps out of the spa, watching my face pale as I bend over and put my hands on my knees, trying to calm my frantic breathing.

  I failed, I think in anguish.

  “’Tis na da only opportunity dat we will have ta kill him, mo chroí,” Brennus says, trying to console me. “He is na going ta go away anytime soon.”

  “I know,” I pant. “But it was maybe the best shot we can expect.”

  “Did ye get da answers ye wanted?” Brennus asks, seeing the pain on my face.

  I shrug, “Maybe…I don’t know. He’s a liar and a really good spin doctor, so…I don’t know.”

  The door of the bathroom opens and Declan strolls in with the two Archangels following him docilely. “He escaped,” Declan states, looking around and seeing Altair on the floor. He nudges Altair’s dismembered body lightly, like he is making sure the angel is dead. “He’ll be back,” Declan says soothingly to me, like I have just lost my favorite pet. “Maybe I can help.” Turning to the Archangels, Declan orders, “Destroy Casimir and bring his body ta me.”

  Instantly, the Archangels spin into beetles and grasshoppers. They pour into the compact in the space of time that it takes me to exhale.

  “Do you think it will work?” I ask Declan with little hope in my tone.

  He shrugs, “I do na, but ’tis worth a try.”

  Straightening, I am about to tell Declan that he should sugarcoat his answers in situations like this, when something in the air begins to shift. It is subtle at first, just a stirring of the air around me. A second later, the pieces of glass on the floor dance and move while the remaining pins in my hair loosen as my hair lifts towards the compact. A moment after that, I lunge for the handle of the faucet near the sink as my legs lift right out from under me.

  Everything in the bathroom spins and flings off of the shelves towards the open compact. It’s as if a black hole had opened and is now sucking the entire contents of the room into it. All of the perfume bottles rocket towards it, distorting and twisting like food coloring dropped in water, just before they enter the portal.

  My fingers slide over the smooth surface of the faucet as I desperately turn my head to see if there is something else I can cling to. Declan is in a similar situation. The door handle bends in his hands as the force of the vortex sucks him towards it.

  “OY!” Eion says from the doorway, pulling Declan to him as he grasps his forearm.

  I feel one of my hands slip and it whips me around so that I’m facing the portal. Brennus is holding on to the edge of the spa. If he lets go I’m as good as dead, along with him. They will kill him if they get him and I will die, too. Casimir may have changed his mind about keeping me alive now that I have put a bullet in him.

  Knowing that fire doesn’t hurt Brennus like it hurts angels, I try to pull some of the energy in the room to me. My fingers are beginning to bleed as the metal of the faucet cuts into them in my struggle to hang on. In desperation, I whisper words that can’t possibly be heard above the tremendous rush of wind swirling in the room. “Love burns as you conspire, It burns like fire…”

  Fire ignites, swirling and spiraling while rushing towards the portal like the tail of a comet. Seconds after the inferno enters the portal, the rush of wind stops dead. I crash to the floor and just lie there limply, panting.

  Brennus picks up the open compact, snapping it closed with a grim expression. Tossing it to Declan, he doesn’t pause, but scoops me up off the floor, holding me close to his cool chest. “Ye failed ta mention dat dey could try ta pull us ta dem,” Brennus says, while tightening his grip on me.

  “Sorry. I’m new at this. The learning curve is pretty brutal,” I mutter, beginning to shake in his arms.

  “’Tis,” Brennus agrees with a sympathetic expression. “Declan, I want a set of dose portals. See what we can come up with.” Brennus orders. He carries me to the bedroom and wraps me in a towel before he sets me on one of the plush chairs. “Ye need ta change quickly. We are leaving now.”

  As I look up at Brennus, Finn materializes at the door of the bedroom. “The Fallen are near. Dey have the Kevev with dem,” Finn says in a clipped tone.

  “Any other allies?” Brennus asks quickly, not taking his eyes off me but rubbing his hands briskly over the towel, trying to warm me up because I’m still trembling. It’s not helping because his coldness is seeping through the towel to me. Brennus realizes this and gives up. He walks to my wardrobe, pulling out practical clothing—designer jeans, designer shirt, and leather boots that stop before my knees. He walks to me and places them on my lap. I rise from the chair and change quickly with my back to them because it’s apparent that they aren’t going to leave me alone now.

  Finn continues briefing Brennus. “The Fallen may have also recruited Inikwi—ye know how slippery dey can be.”

  I feel a shiver run down my spine. After I finish dressing, my hand clamps tight on Brennus’ arm. With a nervous quiver in my voice, I ask, “Inikwi? What are Inikwi? What do they do? How do you kill them? What are Kevev? Are they fierce?”

  Brennus’ eyes scan mine. “Shh, mo chroí, ’tis all right,” he says in a soothing tone.

  “Brennus, when someone tells me it’s ‘all right,’ it usually means we are totally dead,” I reply, searching his face for answers.

  “We’re na totally dead—we are jus na totally safe,” he replies easily.

  My eyes narrow, “What is a Kevev?” I ask with menace. I hate having this stuff sprung on me.

  “’Tis like…” his eyes look upward, searching his mind for a suitable description. “Finn, would ye say dey are like ogres, but dey are na as big or smelly…” he trails off, gazing at Finn.

  “I would,” Finn agrees with a brisk nod. “Dey have da same grey skin and dey have roughly da same build. Ye know whah dey remind me of when dey have deir latex, human-looking skin suits on?” Finn asks Brennus conv
ersationally.

  “Whah?” Brennus asks.

  Finn shakes his finger at Brennus, “Dose human blighters dat jump around on da mats in da rings—da ones we saw at da fight night ting dey had,” Finn replies sourly.

  Brennus appears aghast. “Och, dey weren’t really fighting!” Brennus says in disgust. “’Twas a waste of time. Dere was no dismemberment—no real blood ta speak of—” he stops talking when he hears me clear my throat. “Dey wore wan’s clothes…” he adds as if disturbed by the memory.

  “They look like…um…professional wrestlers?” I ask them and they both point their fingers at me, nodding. “Any other special abilities?” I ask them quickly.

  “Brute strength is whah dey are known for, no magic, jus stay away from deir breath,” Brennus advises.

  “Why, does it enthrall their victim?” I ask, thinking of all the possibilities of his statement.

  “No, ’tis jus foul,” he replies with a casual shrug.

  “What are Inikwi?” I ask rapidly, moving on to the next unknown entity.

  Finn frowns. “Dey used ta be human, but deir souls were weak so dey could be taken over by a demon,” Finn explains.

  “You mean ‘shadow men?’” I ask, and see Finn raise his eyebrow in question. “You know—like when a demonic soul from Sheol invades a human host—I call them shadow men,” I explain.

  “We call dose humans ‘possessed,’ Genevieve,” Finn shakes his head. “Dis is different. Whah is in da human host was never human to begin with—’tis na a soul. ’Tis a true demon and da human does na necessarily have ta be alive ta be inhabited—some of dem are corpses when it happens,” he replies, watching my eyes grow wide. “Dey are whah ye might term ‘utterly wrong.’”

  My mouth has suddenly gone dry so my voice sounds a little high when I ask, “Are they strong?”

  “Dey are,” Finn says without hesitating. “Dey are unbelievably strong and they act like a unit, hunting in packs for deir prey. If you see one, den dat means dere are several dat ye do na see.”

  “What kills them?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Rip out da heart and dey will die, but it has to be da heart of da demon, na da human heart. Anyting short of dat and dey will be back ta kill ye. Dat is why dey are slippery. Dey look dead because da human host can die wi’out it affecting dem atall. Ye have ta make sure dey are dead,” he replies. “Magic will work. Ye jus have ta have a very powerful spell dat will somehow stop da heart from beating. It has ta be very powerful ta penetrate deir armor.”

  “Is that it?” I ask, looking for anything else they can tell me to fight this new threat.

  “Dey taste terrible,” Brennus adds helpfully, and I pale.

  “Too much information, Brenn,” I reply, slipping on my boots and zipping them up.

  “Dis is actually good news,” Brennus says when I stand up. “Should Casimir attack us wi’ da Kevev and da Inikwi, dat will mean he needs dem. It means dere are na enough Fallen for a decisive battle. Yer friends, it would seem, have been making sure dat dere are na enough Fallen getting ta Casimir. He is cut off from his reinforcements. If Casimir reacts ta whah jus happened—emotionally and na wi’ da cool precision of a Seraph, den he leaves himself open ta error. But, I do na want ta remain here now. We need ta get ye somewhere safe so dat we maintain our advantage.”

  Brennus puts his hand on my back, gently leading me to the door. Finn falls in on my other side as an escort. When we enter the hall, there are a score of fellas there waiting for us. “Where are we going?” I ask, seeing that we are, indeed, set to leave.

  Brennus is about to answer me when shouts erupt from outside. Battle cries and screams of agony mingle with the rapid report of machine gun fire. The clanging of metal and chaos punctures the tranquility of the grounds. My entourage becomes still, listening to the sounds that eerily remind me of China on the last night I was there with Reed.

  Brennus returns to the window in the sitting room and I follow closely behind him. A shiver runs down my spine as I stare outside. Angels covered like Ninja assassins in black, body armor are flying in legions around the grounds outside. Diving at random at fellas on the ground, the angels pluck their victims from their feet, tearing them apart and raining pieces of Gancanagh down on their comrades below. But, that is not all they are doing—they’re also killing what must be Kevev, judging by the shredded, latex flesh being peeled from the gray, hulking bodies.

  As I watch them with horrified fascination, I flinch when an angel pounces on another angel in midair, hurtling them both into the side of the building with a loud crash. Powerful wings beat near the panes of glass where I stand while one angel uses the other’s head as a battering ram, pounding it repeatedly into the wall. As dust falls from the ceiling, Brennus’ arm reaches out protectively to block me.

  “They are Fallen and Divine,” I breathe with fear knocking the breath from me because Reed and Zephyr are undoubtedly out there somewhere. They brought their army to make sure Casimir doesn’t succeed in getting me.

  As I glance around numbly, I don’t even realize Brennus has taken my hand and is tugging on it gently to get me to follow him away from the window and back out into the hallway.

  “Dey have changed deir rules for ye, mo chroí. Da Divine have never gotten involved when dey consider da war ta be a battle between ‘evil craiturs,’” Brennus says, sounding a little thrown by the information.

  We head for the stairs at a clipped pace and manage to get down them. As we pass through the main hall, the glass ceiling above us shatters, raining jagged shards and angels down upon us in equal measure.

  “Hold dem off,” Brennus orders his men. Half my entourage breaks off from us while we continue to move through the castle towards the West Tower.

  “Dere are tunnels beneath dis home, mo chroí. We will exit trough one of dem and be away from here before dey know we are gone,” Brennus assures me, like this happens every day.

  “I could use a weapon, Brenn,” I say, seeing arms being distributed to the fellas as we pass a checkpoint in the North Corridor.

  “Whah sounds good ta ye?” he asks, searching my face.

  “A gun,” I reply.

  Brennus nods to me, before taking a sidearm and holster from one of the fellas. Then, he helps me put it on so that the gun rests near my ribcage.

  “Anyting else?” he asks, looking like he is trying not to smile.

  “A dagger,” I reply.

  Instantly, every one of the fellas holds the handle of their knives out for me to take. I choose Brennus’ knife because it worked for me before. I killed Keegan with it. As I grasp the handle of the weapon, I feel the eerie power within the blade. I push it securely into the top of my boot.

  “Shall we?” Brennus asks me as the chaos of the fight pushes closer to us.

  Adrenaline is coursing through me now because I don’t know which way I should be going, toward the fight or away from it. Does Reed want me to leave here and get away from the fray or move towards it where he can get to me? I wonder in confusion.

  “Where are the tunnels?” I ask, taking Brennus’ hand and following him down the corridor.

  “Dere is one in da kirk—da Knight’s Bar,” he says, smiling at me.

  We enter the chapel and walk to the suit of armor located directly beneath one of the rosette, stained glass windows. When the armor is pushed aside, a spiraling staircase appears, leading below. Brennus gives me the after-you gesture. I step into the stairwell as flashes of memory hit me that this is like being in the caves in Houghton with all of its stairways to torture.

  Damp, salty air coming from below causes me to pause on the first step to ask, “Does this lead to the sea?”

  I don’t hear Brennus’ answer because the roar of a gun’s report along with searing pain blots out his response. A single bullet rips through my thigh, forcing my leg to fold beneath me. Casimir catches me in his open arms before I fall more than a few steps down the dark stairway. I cry out in agony while Casimir whis
pers in my ear, “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  CHAPTER 23

  The Ocean

  I brace myself against Casimir’s chest so that I don’t go crashing down the steep, endless staircase that leads to the sea. I have to close my eyes against the bitter pain throbbing in my thigh. The bullet has gone right through it, but it burns like it’s lodged in the muscle. As I breathe shallowly, tears cloud my eyes and I grit my teeth, trying not to faint.

  Casimir’s voice is cold as he says, “That was a warning, half-breed. What you do unto me, I will do unto you—twofold.” Casimir fires his gun again and shoots my other thigh at point blank range.

  I almost lose the ability to breathe as he clutches me to him. I can no longer stand on my own and the pain is unreal. Turning me around, so that I’m shielding him, he pulls me the few steps to the top of the stairwell, entering the Knight’s Bar.

  Casimir drags me just beyond the stairwell. His entourage files in behind us, taking up positions within the room. At least fifteen angels are with him; they are all covered from head to foot in body armor to protect them from the touch of the Gancanagh. They, too, must’ve been away from Sheol for a while because their odor is not very pungent; otherwise, I would have smelled them before I saw them. Training their weapons on the Gancanagh, the angels outnumber them in the room.

  Brennus, who is also bleeding from both of his thighs as I am, is still standing on his own. Fierce pain enters Brennus’ eyes when he sees me, pale and broken, in Casimir’s arms. I gaze back at Brennus, knowing that there is nothing that he can do now to stop what is about to happen.

  Casimir directs his comment to Brennus, saying, “I admire your lair. It is just like a labyrinth down there with tunnels and caves that lead from the sea. You should know, just for future reference, that it is not very difficult to get in here when one has the ability to fly.”