by Vox Day
The bell rang, seemingly right in his ears, and he jumped. Calm down, he urged himself. Jeez, relax! One more corner, here it is, the last stretch and then you’re clear, just take it one step at a time. The damn guns were heavier than he’d expected though, and his right arm was getting sore. As he rounded the corner, he stopped for a moment and slid the straps of the bag over his left shoulder. There, that was better!
But as the once-empty front hallway was filled with the crush of bodies in a matter of seconds, Brien found he had to hurriedly press himself against to the left wall in order to avoid smacking into someone with the guns. Dumb, dumb, dumb! He should have stuck to the other side, he realized, as he now had no choice but to go against the flow of traffic. I sure hope they’re not loaded, he winced as the thought crossed his mind for the first time.
But as a girl who might have been Tessa walked past him on the other side of the hall, Brien made the mistake of looking over his shoulder. He couldn’t quite see if it was actually her or not through the blur of moving heads that were blocking his view—uff da! The straps on his shoulder tightened painfully as the guns swung across his body and he was forced to a sudden and unexpected halt.
“Ow!” a young girl cried, doubling over and clutching at her stomach. “Watch where you’re going, dillweed! You just hit me!”
“Are you all right, Ang?” a cute blonde girl bent over her friend with a concerned look on her face.
It was two of the frosh he’d overheard talking about Tessa and Jim Schumacher, Brien realized as he tried to step back and swing the bag as far behind his body as he could. A third girl, another blonde who must have been the other one’s sister judging by their similar features, jabbed her finger at him.
“You know, you could at least say you’re sorry!”
Um, sure, whatever.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry,” Brien mumbled. He just wanted to get out of there, now. “I didn’t see you.”
“What the hell do you have in there anyhow,” spat the first girl, glaring at him. She was a thin-nosed girl with dishwater blonde hair and a shrill voice. “Lead pipes? Jeez, I thought it went right through me!”
“Look, I have to go.” Brien ignored her and pushed his way past the girls, who were still staring angrily at him.
“What a stupid jerk,” he heard the first girl declaring loudly as he hurried toward the front door. “You’d think he’d know not to walk on the wrong side of the hall!”
Too bad you’re just a freshman, Brien thought murderously as he walked down the cement spiral staircase and made his way through the crowded student lot. His nervousness was gone, replaced by clean, cold anger. As he reached his car, he dug into his baggy shorts for his keys, unlocked the trunk of his Accord, then, with relief, laid the heavy bag into the felt-lined interior. Otherwise, bitch, you’d be on the list too!
Chapter 27
The Power of Two
Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will He clothe you, O you of little faith!
—Luke 12:27-28
Jami sat in front of the television, restlessly clicking the remote without even seeing what was on the channels that she was flashing by so quickly. Click-MTV-click-ESPN-click-CNN-click-somebody cooking something-click-talk show psychos… hmm, My Lover Has A Secret… like I care, please keep it to yourself… click-VH1….
“The amazing thing is that we actually think we don’t have time to do things like pray, or read the Bible,” her brother commented as he sat down on the arm on the other side of the couch.
“Go away,” she told him, not taking her eyes off the screen. Click-click-click. “And Mom says don’t sit there, it’s bad for the couch. Anyhow, I’m bored.”
Christopher shifted his weight and slid down onto the cushions next to her.
“Hey, I’m not criticizing. It’s not like I’m doing anything either. I just think it’s funny how sometimes there’s this big gap between what we know we could do, and what we are doing, you know?”
“True,” she agreed absently. Of course, you could say that about almost anything. She wasn’t in the mood for a theological discussion, so she changed the subject. “So, how’s things with Rachel?”
“Pretty good, I think.” He bobbed his head. “She’s really nice, I mean, she’s easy to talk to. And she’s so pretty… she didn’t say anything about me, did she?”
Jami eyed him out of the corner of her eye. He was trying to act all indifferent, but now he was leaning towards her and paying close attention. She couldn’t resist the temptation.
“Well, she says you’re nice, but you’re a lousy kisser.”
Christopher blanched.
“She didn’t say that, did she?”
“Yeah, she was really disappointed, since she thought you were cute and all. She said it was kind of like being licked by one of those, oh, I can’t remember what they’re called. The big dogs… Weimers-something, maybe? No, Rottweiler, that was it. She said it was like being licked by a Rottweiler.”
Her brother suddenly looked like Angie had when that fat senior had hit her in the stomach at school the other day. His expression was a wonderful cross between total shock and utter horror.
“I… I didn’t know… it was that bad? I had no idea!”
Jami tried to keep a straight face. She fought off the urge to smile as long as she could, until finally she couldn’t contain herself any longer.
“Ha!” she leaped from the couch, pointing accusingly at him. “You did kiss her then! I knew it!”
“Huh?” Christopher’s expression looked exactly like the way she imagined a fish’s would look at the very moment it bites into a nice, juicy worm and discovers a sharp, not-so-nice hook. For the smart one in the family, he was pretty slow sometimes. “But you said she—”
“She didn’t say anything, you dork! Even Angie couldn’t get anything out of her. Except I can tell she likes you a lot, because she keeps blushing whenever we ask about you. Holli and I, we had a bet about whether you kissed her or not on Saturday, and I just won, baby!”
“Well, good for you,” her brother said sourly. “Wait, you said she likes me?”
“Of course she does,” Jami rolled her eyes. When it came to girls, clueless was still his middle name. She batted her eyelashes, then pretended to look shyly away from him. “What do you think that is? That’s all she ever does around you!”
“Cool,” Christopher said, and his eyes grew distant. “Very cool…. You know, I wonder if she’d like Warhammer? I was going to play with Don this weekend, so maybe—”
Jami shook her head. You could clean them up, polish them off, and shine the spotlight on them, but there was just no taking the inherent geekdom out of the geek.
“How about taking her to a movie instead,” she suggested kindly. “I think she might like that better.”
“You think so?”
Her idiot brother actually sounded surprised.
“Ah, yes, I do. I really, really, do.”
“All right, then,” Christopher nodded, apparently understanding. “I wanted to see that new Van Damme movie anyhow.”
Jami buried her head in her hands. She didn’t know if she should laugh, or cry. Poor Rachel. She was doomed.
The phone rang, and Jami leaped off the couch to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is Jami there?”
Jami grinned happily, and waved off Christopher, then pointed to herself. It was Jason.
“Yes, this is she. And this is?”
“It’s Jason.”
“Jason… Jason who?”
There was a deliciously uncomfortable moment of silence.
“Um, Jason Case. I’m taking you to the prom, I think?”
Jami laughed.
“I’m just teasing, Jase! I knew it was you.
I recognized your voice right away.”
“Oh, good.” Jason sounded relieved, and a little confused. He didn’t have any sisters, Jami remembered. Well, that just made things that much easier. “Say, I was just thinking, if you were free, that maybe we could go and check out some tuxedos or whatever. You know, for the prom?”
“What a great idea!” Jami made a face and flipped off Christopher, who was silently mimicking her gestures and responses. She was really looking forward to seeing Jason outside of school, and was impressed by his thoughtfulness too. This would be her first prom, of course, but she’d heard horror stories about guys showing up at the door with pink tie-and-cummerbund combos, plaid tuxedos, or worst of all, the Abe Lincoln thing with the goofy top hat. “I’d love to help you look around. I don’t have my dress yet, but at least we can pick out a basic style or something.”
“All right,” Jason told her. “Pick you up in ten minutes?”
“Sure… actually, why don’t you make it fifteen,” Jami suggested.
“Fifteen, then. See you in a little bit.”
“Bye,” Jami told him, and she hung up. “I am out of here,” she announced as she ran for the stairs. It wasn’t a date or anything like that, but she wanted to look good all the same. “If Mom calls, tell her I’ll be at the mall with Jason, but I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
“Okay,” Christopher called after her. “But if you’re going to Rosedale, you’ll probably see her. That’s where she took Holli.”
And here Jami had thought that Holli was out with Derek. Apparently not. Well, in that case, she should probably call Mom on her cell and let her know what was up. She didn’t want Jason to get off on the wrong foot with her. Jami reached the bathroom, stopped, and stared into the mirror. Fifteen minutes, eh? And no Holli either. She pursed her lips and pulled open Holli’s drawer. It was a cosmetic jungle, full of traps and pitfalls for the unwary. She tapped her fingernails thoughtfully against the ceramic counter, then settled for withdrawing only a single tube of pink lipstick and a navy eyeliner pencil. In makeup, as in war, discretion was the better part of valor.
Melusine was finding it difficult not to laugh at Boghorael this evening, as the increasingly confident demon strutted his way through the hordes of other spirits following their charges around the busy shopping center. He was a quick student, she had learned to her delight, but he was also amazingly arrogant, and although he was always carefully subservient around her, indeed, almost to the point of being obsequious, she knew she would have to keep her eye on him in the future. Clearly, he was one of those spirits who found power to be very much to his liking.
It wasn’t that being the sole assistant to a temptress who was far from being in the favor of the local prince was anything to brag about, but it was a huge step up for a nonentity stuck to a tree and saddled with a name like Bogspittle. How awful it must be, reflected Melusine, to be trapped against your will into the smallness of the physical world, to be unable to take a part, however small, in the great war against the Enemy.
Thus she empathized, and found it hard to hold her protégé’s annoying new habits against him. Nevertheless, it was her responsibility to keep them from getting out of hand, before his towering conceit angered the wrong spirit and he was crushed like young Philip at Crècy. She sighed, thinking longingly of the days when her own power had flowered like a white rose of destruction, its frosty beauty and dangerous perfume spreading massive devastation wherever it touched.
“Pay attention, now,” she ordered him. “And forget those Succubi, you don’t want to mess with them.”
The would-be tempter shot one last, wistful glance at a pair of tall, exotic demonesses who were pretending not to notice that he’d been staring hungrily at them. They were nakedly gorgeous, with pure silver skin and featherless black wings, long white hair that fell past their waists, and eerie blue eyes that lacked whites or pupils. They were also dangerous, and wouldn’t hesitate to prey upon any lesser demon foolish enough to fall into their claws.
“Remember what you did to Dandaela?” she asked him, arching an eyebrow.
“Yes, of course,” he said, sounding curious. “Why?”
She indicated the two Succubi who were walking away from them now, apparently having lost interest.
“Because that’s what they’ll do to you.”
“Oh…. I didn’t know!”
Melusine was tempted to slap him, but she refrained. Fabulous, she thought. He’s got that lovely bark covering his brain as well as his skin. Was just a small spark of intelligence too much to ask for?
“Let’s try to concentrate, shall we. Look, you know that one of the Great Ones has something in the works, and we’re supposed to make sure that these two don’t interfere with it.” She pointed towards the two Lewis twins, who were chatting enthusiastically with their mother and the tall boy that Jami was often thinking about. “Now, take Jami here. She’s going to be your responsibility, right? So what do you suggest that we should do next, how should we try to influence her?”
Bogharael thought hard. He wrinkled his green brows, and concentrated intensely on his new charge. He glanced back and forth between the girl and the tall boy, and his thoughts were so apparent that Melusine could almost see the gears turning in his head.
“It’s got something to do with the school, right?” he asked, looking for confirmation.
“Yes,” she answered patiently.
“Okay, well, I think that one night we should encourage her to go off alone with him. And see, what we’ll do before that is we’ll work with his tempter and petition the Prince for one of the Pazzidrim to possess him. And then, when he’s alone with her and is fully possessed, he kills her!”
Melusine stared at him incredulously.
“Doesn’t that seem a bit heavy-handed?”
“Do you think so?”
Patience, Melusine reminded herself, is not a virtue for a demoness, it is an absolute necessity. At times like this, she almost wished she’d left the dryad in his damned tree.
“There’s at least three problems with that approach, Bogharael, my dear. First, she belongs to the Enemy, which means she has a guardian who isn’t going to sit by and watch that happen. Second, there are limits to the power of even the greatest Pazzidri. The boy’s soul may be unguarded, but it hasn’t been corrupted to the point where he can be influenced to such an extent. Perhaps if his mind was torn apart by a very powerful influence, but if you look at his habits, you can see he’s not likely to expose himself to the kind of drugs or practices required for that.”
“I thought you said three things?” Bogharael said, sulking, and Melusine could see that he was more than a little miffed. What a touchy little brute he’d turned out to be!
“I did,” she admitted. “The third thing is that Prince Bloodwinter would never grant you your petition. The Enemy protects his own, and to a certain extent even watches over those who come into close contact with them. The mere presence of a Pazzidri might bring a cohort of archangels down upon us, and the Prince is well aware of that. Subtlety, and then isolation, that is the better way. You must never strike to kill until you have first separated your target from that which protects her, you understand?”
“All right, I get it, I get it,” Bogharael said ruefully, and he flashed her a charmingly self-deprecating smile that didn’t fool her in the least. “The first thing is to be subtle. I’ll remember next time. I promise.”
Melusine doubted that, but she didn’t see any point in starting an argument. At least he was paying some attention to the task at hand, unlike his predecessor. Subtlety was the key, although it was remarkably unsatisfying at times. She was pleased that she’d managed to keep the Lewis children so fully occupied with their day-to-day lives at school, but even so, she hadn’t seen them falling away from the Enemy’s influence in any significant detail either. Christopher and Jami’s increased interest in the opposite sex offered some promise, naturally, but that was inevitable no matter
what she did.
She shrugged. Sometimes all you could do was watch and try to take advantage of the inevitable opportunities that came your way. Mortals were only human after all, and if you could count on anything, it was that they’d do something stupidly self-destructive. Tempting was an amusing responsibility, but sometimes you almost felt redundant.
“Great Mistress, Great Mistress!”
The high-pitched voice of a nearby imp attracted her attention, and she turned around. She saw that the misshapen little minion was addressing her, and she was surprised to note that he was wearing the purple and white livery of Prince Bloodwinter’s court.
“Great Mistress, the Prince has commanded that I escort you to his Presence. With your permission, we will leave at once.”
Melusine nodded coolly, but her mind was frantically investigating the possibilities. She hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary lately… unless, of course, Bloodwinter had discovered Balazel’s true identity. She shivered, and hoped that Kaym had thought to keep her knowledge of his presence here in the Cities to himself.
“Can I come too?” asked Bogharael in a low voice. He was preening conspicuously, acting as if the summons had included him as well. Her slow-witted protégé didn’t realize that there was every chance that this summoning meant nothing but trouble.
“Fine,” sighed Melusine. “If you want.”
She glanced back at the Lewis girls and shrugged. It might have been nice to see if she could tempt them into buying dresses that were more seductive than they might have otherwise have selected, but considering the present circumstances, she’d have to put her trust in teenage hormones. Which, when you thought about it, was really all that any decent temptress should ever need. Very well. She nodded her acquiescence to the Prince’s imp, spread her wings, and leaped into the air.
Chapter 28
The Court of Winter
For I know how many are your offenses and how great your sins. You oppress the righteous and take bribes and you deprive the poor of justice in the courts. Therefore, the prudent man keeps quiet in such times, for the times are evil.