by Lee Roland
“Thank you,” I said.
“You wouldn’t leave without her.”
I’d never heard his voice so cold, so full of fury, even when the thieves attacked at the Archangel. This Michael frightened me, but he had enough compassion to know that I would want to bring Lillian home. I fought the urge to cry then, but Lillian would have berated me for any emotion at all until the job here was done. Control emotion, no matter how traumatic. A Sister of Justice was in control.
We went out a back door cautiously. There was no sign of guards.
I had the phone and tried to call the Armory and Riggs, desperate to get someone to pick us up, but the service kept cutting out. We were still too deep in the ruins.
We kept close to the buildings and alleys to hide from the occasional vehicle. Far more traffic invaded this place than deeper in the ruins. I suspected Étienne’s force created some of it. When a line of headlights moved toward us and we had no alley to hide in, Michael kicked open a door to an abandoned building.
And came face-to-face with a group of Bastinados huddled around a couple of battery lanterns.
Shit.
The stunned Bastinados stood for a few brief seconds before they drew their guns—useless guns. Michael laid Lillian gently on the floor, then, in one lightning move, caught a Bastinado by the arm. He twisted and tore the arm off at the socket. How could he? It wasn’t possible. That’s horror movie stuff, I thought. The Bastinado shrieked and fell to the floor as blood pumped out of the hole where he’d once had an arm. He flopped along and continued to cry out. The lanterns were the next casualty and the room plunged into darkness.
Gunshots, the flash of fire from a muzzle, and I dropped to the floor. There was nothing to hide behind.
Shouts and screams continued, giving voice to an orgy of violence and terror. Michael roared, full of pure animal fury, as if each blow, every tear of flesh brought a release of dammed-up rage. And it went on and on until I wanted to scream myself. The smell, the coppery stink of blood. I felt a fine spray of liquid land across my body. Waves of nausea rose up to claim me.
Finally, silence filled the room—except for the deep, ragged breaths of the last killer standing.
We’d left the door open, and lights from a passing car gave me a vision I instantly prayed I’d never see again. Michael stood straight and tall and covered in crimson. It dripped from his fingers. Bodies and assorted limbs lay around him, the predator supreme. His fingers curled and ended in claws, and his face was pure Aiakós. Michael was indeed his father’s son. The light faded.
I dared not move. I’d seen some aspect of this when he’d defended against the thieves, but nothing so savage. I had seen nothing of it when we’d made love.
“Madeline?” His voice sounded deep, far deeper than usual. “I won’t hurt you. I am in control.”
I swallowed hard. Was I bound to this dark creature for the rest of my life?
“You tore them apart.”
“They would have killed without remorse. We would be toys to them. The Earth Mother keeps the law from this place, blinding them with her spell. She hides it from those who could provide order, not chaos. Therefore, we who are born of chaos must make our own law. I have tried many years to be what I am not. Human. I’m not fighting it today. Can you live with this?” he asked.
“I’m probably the only one on this earth who could.” True. The strangeness of witches and the savagery of the Sisters had taught me well. Perhaps I was the perfect mate for him. I felt him come and pick up Lillian again. He did not touch me.
By the time we stepped outside, he had returned to the magnificent visage he usually presented to the world—only covered with blood. We had to cross River Street through a break in traffic, but no one seemed to notice a blood-covered man carrying a body and a woman with a gun. Just another night in the Barrows.
I had Michael go to the alley by the Armory. I needed to prepare them. Eunice and Hildy waited for me when I walked in.
“Where’s Lillian?” Eunice stood, feet planted, fists curled, as dangerous as she’d ever been since I’d known her.
“Lillian’s dead, Eunice. She jumped between me and a bullet. But we have to mourn later. Destruction is about to rain down on our heads at midnight if we don’t stop it.” I swallowed. “Michael is outside with Lillian’s body. He’ll bring her in, but I don’t want you to attack him. It wasn’t his fault.”
Eunice stood for a moment, staring into nothingness. That did not mean she felt nothing; nor did it mean she would not erupt into violence. When she spoke, her voice was soft and deadly. “Who killed her?”
“A man named Clark. He’s dead.”
Hildy said nothing. I think the moment had robbed her of all words.
I had Michael bring Lillian in. Eunice and Hildy stared at him.
“Whose blood?” Hildy croaked, her cigarette-scarred voice failing her.
“Bastinado,” I told her. “There was an incident on the way here.”
Eunice said nothing
Abigail opened the door and walked in. For a moment I saw hope in Eunice’s eyes that the witch might be able to heal our fallen Sister, but she knew better.
Abigail went straight to Lillian and laid a gentle hand on her forehead for a moment. “Rest, Sister of Justice. I pray the Earth Mother grants you a new life, one full of wonder and peace.” She turned to us. “I’ve been instructed to help you. I can assure you my magic works quite well here in the Barrows. I will not kill, but I will aid in any way I can. I will save lives.”
Eunice silently lifted Lillian from Michael’s arms and carried her to the back of the building. Before she left the room, she stared at me long and hard. I couldn’t meet that stare and turned away.
“I’m going to Aiakós,” Michael said.
I laid a hand on his chest. “Please, give me a minute. I want to go with you.”
“You think I’ll tell?”
“No. I don’t think he’ll believe you about how bad things are about to become. His arrogance won’t let him.”
He said nothing, but went to Hildy’s phone to make a call.
Hildy growled low in her throat. “The time will come when the Sisters will fight. Debts will be paid.” Hildy stared at me when she spoke, but nothing in her demeanor said she threatened me.
Once we are shown the path, we still have free will. We obey or disobey at our own risk. In the Barrows we make our own choices. Hildy was the wild card in all of this. What choice would she make?
“Hildy?”
“What?” She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Are you with me? Or not?”
“I’m with you.” She sounded defeated. She pretended to cough. Careful ears could tell it was a sob.
“So am I,” Eunice said as she returned. “Don’t forget these.” She held up the Morié and Solaire. She’d taken them from Lillian’s body.
“You wear them for now.”
“But you need to kill the witch.” Eunice proffered them again.
Abigail cleared her throat. “I know you are immune to earth magic, Madeline, but the Portal’s magic is different.”
“I’ve already been tested. That’s why I gave Lillian the Morié and Solaire.”
“What! You’re immune to . . . Why didn’t you tell us?” Eunice held the objects close to her heart now.
“Because I had to keep one thing of my own at Justice.” I stared into her eyes. “You bitches tore everything out of me, almost broke me, but that secret, you couldn’t steal.”
Eunice dropped her arms to her sides. She started laughing, but it broke into a sob. The inestimable Sister Eunice had given in to emotion. “Lillian was right. She said . . .” She straightened. “No wonder she was so proud of you. You are our leader, Sister Madeline. Tell us what you want.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. Leader? Me? Hildy and Eunice were going to do what I told them to do? Michael certainly wouldn’t. What a disaster.
I told them what was about to happen. “
The witch that has the Portal will be in the Zombie Zone near midnight. She’s dying and thinks it will heal her and give her immortality. She will bring men with guns to cut a path. A lot of men and guns. You and Eunice get armed and go there now. Carefully. Keep to the shadows. Find a building close to the Zombie plaza, go inside, and wait for me. Don’t attack any Drows. They won’t hurt you—”
“The hell they won’t.” Hildy stepped back.
“They won’t. If you can’t leave them alone, Hildy, stay here. If you attack them, you will destroy any chance we have of succeeding tonight.” I moved closer to reinforce the command. “You ceded control to me. Do you now withdraw it?”
Hildy shook her head, but she radiated her reluctance. She went to the counter and dug around behind it, probably looking for cigarettes. She found a pack and shook it at me. “This is going to be one hell of a fuck-up.”
“Most likely, yes,” Eunice said. She turned to me. “We’ll be there. Shall we take the witch?” She nodded at Abigail.
“I doubt she’ll let you leave her behind.”
“And that one?” Eunice nodded at Michael, who had stood aside and watched all of this drama without comment. “Wearing blood like a suit?”
“Bastinado blood,” I reminded her. Though difficult, I managed an indifferent shrug. I really didn’t want to think about the incident.
Michael’s eyes were on me as he spoke. “I stand with Madeline. Where she goes, so will I.” He grasped my hand and brought it to his lips. “And her secrets are mine.”
With his strength, his love, his loyalty, how could I lose? The fact that I faced overwhelming odds seemed far away at that moment.
A sedan rolled to a stop in front of the store. Michael had been in his Jag when they kidnapped him, so his staff at the Archangel brought what they had. Now all we had to do was enter the demon’s den and persuade him to help us fight.
Chapter 38
Michael left his driver to walk back to the Archangel while he drove us to the Zombie. He also called Riggs to tell him he was okay and to order him to take the Jag back to the exercise studio—and stay out of the Barrows until morning.
After those calls, Michael didn’t speak and neither did I. I don’t know what he was thinking. I tried not to think at all. He parked the car on a side street and we walked the last two blocks through the ruins to the Zombie. A good move, really. If there was a pitch battle in the plaza, it would be in a position for a fast getaway.
A odd kind of power swirled around me as we entered the Zombie plaza on foot. It felt like magic, but not. It did not bode well for the rest of the evening. My mother had told me that there were places in the world where powers of different kinds met—and tore apart. When I was ten, we went to Mexico to the site of an ancient temple. I felt the powers swirling around me, shifting, dancing like ghosts—and there were ghosts. One latched on to me and terrified me until we left the next day. I tried to explain it to my mother, but she didn’t understand. She saw no ghosts.
We walked into the building and up the stairs to Aiakós. “Madeline?” Michael stopped midway up the stairs.
I studied my angel. My dark angel. He stood there covered with blood, stinking of blood, but still beautiful. Still desirable. This night had been a nightmare, one filled with fear and loss. Everything this man had done since I met him had been for me. “I’m still yours, Michael. If we survive tonight, we’ll work things out.”
He smiled and started to reach for me, but I backed up, a risky maneuver on the stairs.
“Not when you’re covered with blood. Please.”
“Blood.” He spoke softly. “I will never be free of blood.” Then he turned and moved on.
We entered the elegant red and gold room where I’d first met Aiakós. The red of the drapes matched Michael’s clothes.
Aiakós frowned at Michael. “Are you injured?”
“No.”
“You seem to have had an interesting evening.”
“It will get worse.” Michael sounded fatalistic, but steady as stone.
“Of course it will.” Aiakós moved closer to Michael, as if he didn’t want to take his word on injuries. “You are covered in human blood. I take note of the moon and the movements of this world just as the witches do. Dark moon, solstice, the so-called Zombie . . . Someone or something will die.” He nodded at a door. “There are clothes and a place to wash in there, if you like.”
Michael turned to me. “You tell him.”
While he walked out, Aiakós watched me with those gold, inhuman eyes. Ancient eyes that had seen things I could not even imagine. I told him everything about Oonagh, whom he did not know. How her incompetence and desperation to live had brought the Drows here. About Étienne’s betrayal. I did not tell him about the Portal.
“We need to keep her from getting to the plaza. If Oonagh starts working magic and can’t control it she could destroy the Barrows.” Very tired, I went to the table and sat in one of the chairs. “Tell me why you let Étienne build his little army.” Whether it was rational or not, I wanted to throw some blame at Aiakós for what we’d be up against.
“To protect me against strays. Creatures that come through that hole in the world. I do guard it, you know. I wanted my men here, closer, but he insisted they be at a distance. I see why now.”
“He did you a favor, though probably not on purpose. If they were here, all she’d have to do is walk in. Now they will have to fight to claim this territory.”
“How many men does Étienne have?” Aiakós asked.
“Sixty. He said.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No. I have backup, though. I’ve made friends. Some of the larger Drows will fight for me. The big armored ones are herbivores, but they can fight. I have two Sisters of Justice and Abigail.”
Aiakós drew up, suddenly alert. “Abigail. Innana’s most powerful witch? Against a rogue witch? The Earth Mother’s witches are battling each other? I don’t think this has ever happened before. For what purpose?”
“To keep Oonagh from disrupting the balance more than she already has. Abigail will try to counter any spells Oonagh conjures.” I waited, tried to keep calm, to keep balanced. Had I explained enough?
Aiakós smiled. He appraised me quietly for a moment. “You surprise me. You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” His eyes narrowed a bit. Was he suspicious? I wanted off the subject of the Drows. He didn’t need to know how I had learned about them.
“Very well.” Aiakós stood. “We have about four hours. It should be a good fight.” Like the Sisters, he actually seemed pleased at the prospect of a fight.
“Aiakós?”
“Yes, Madeline.”
“I am not a witch, but I am sensitive to magic. When I came into the plaza a little while ago, I felt something. Some power, not earth magic. Do you know what it is? Will it affect what we do tonight?”
Aiakós studied me, his golden eyes bright. “In the center of the plaza is a . . . soft spot in the universe. The power you felt is a slender thread of the greater universe, part of the weaving of different worlds as they work their way into our world.”
“Is this because of the dark moon and the solstice?”
“Possibly. But it comes and goes at different times. I have traveled between worlds, and I know virtually nothing except that earth magic is only one part of a whole. The whole is vast and beyond the ability of small creatures to understand, and in that scheme, even I am a small creature. What will happen tonight? It depends on how much blood is spilled, too. Earth magic, and many other magical forms, respond to the blood of sacrifice. If those who fight here do so out of great belief, great self-sacrifice, it will release much power. Here, when earth magic mixes with other things, it creates an echo that brings all manner of things to pass.”
In the realm of the Sisters, the practical—the fist and blade—reigned. In the realm of earth magic, the unusual, the chaotic would certainly be a moving force. And somehow they all had to come together. Ton
ight would change many things. I knew that our schemes were narrowly conceived when we played games with demi-gods. To speculate on whether we controlled our own destiny was useless. We could not deny the events. And we couldn’t understand them.
Michael returned. Clean and perfect, as usual. He drew me into his arms and led me to the side of the room. He ran his hand over my cropped white hair and held me tight. We didn’t talk. We simply stood there and held on.
It seemed hard to believe that it had been only five days since I came to the Barrows. Five days filled with sacrifice, agony, and loss, all because a witch feared dying beyond all things. But there had been love and joy, at least for me. I believed that the Mother would protect the earth if we failed here, even if it meant abandoning us to whatever disaster befell us.
The door opened and Abigail walked in. Aiakós went to her, and to my eternal surprise, bowed to her. “Steward of the earth. You honor us. Though we have never met, your mistress praises you above all her other daughters. She told me you were the finest of her children.”
Abigail laughed softly. “Really? She told me you were a liar and a rogue.”
Aiakós laughed out loud. “And so I am. But be welcome in my home, such as it is.” He offered her his hand and she accepted it. She didn’t hesitate as I had.
He led her to a seat at the table.
Abigail spoke first. “As I told Madeline, I will do what I can to help. I won’t kill, but I will defend.”
Then Aiakós asked the question I’d avoided. He hadn’t been satisfied with my answer. “Why is she coming here? What does she wish to accomplish? And tell me why I should involve myself in this battle of witches. What will I gain? Or lose?”
Abigail shrugged, quite artfully, I thought. “Oonagh is apparently ill. She has not accepted the Mother’s order of life, death, and rebirth. She wants immortality. There is much power in this place on this particular night. I believe she will try to find something to heal herself. What will you gain, Aiakós? Nothing. It is what you will keep that you should look to. You are susceptible to earth magic, and you are a guest here in this place by the grace of the Mother. The magic the witch plans to call upon tonight could easily take your life.” She stared straight at him. For a brief instant, I saw pure rage in her face. Abigail hated him. She didn’t miss a beat though. “Specifically, I am here to defend you, Aiakós.”