Vengeance: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 3
Page 23
Brimstone was rich on the air, the sulfurous saturation a noxious poison, and Agares’s smell underlined Hell’s aroma. He was death, carnage, blood, and stank of them all. Nude, it was impossible to ignore his hooked and barbed semi-swollen shaft.
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run, wondering just how fast the Vitesse really was. Could it outrun destiny, fate, free will, whatever the hell this horror was? Was it powerful enough to keep me far in front of this horror bearing down on me? And what of Gagiel?
As if he’d read my mind, Agares turned to the fallen angel who had managed to drag himself partially behind a large bin. “Trash,” the demon muttered. “Appropriate. Heaven didn’t want you after you sinned, Gagiel. Hell has a special place for you in our army.”
Walking to the angel on all fours, animalistic in his movements, Agares flipped the fallen angel over and ripped his torso open.
Gagiel arched his back, his mouth opened in a wordless scream.
“Easiest way to get the soul out.” Agares looked over at me, ignoring the priest. “You’ll need to know this.” Then he chuckled, deep and rumbling, an internal avalanche of sound. “Well, not really. The causing of pain is pleasure. You probably need to know that more. Beheading them gets the job done efficiently.” He grabbed Gagiel’s head.
I saw abject fear in the angel’s eyes. He knew what was about to happen, was helpless to stop it.
“Stop.” My command was far more plea. “What do you want from me?”
Agares looked back, lifting one shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “If you’ve not figured it out, you need therapy, Maddy.”
“Hellion,” I whispered.
He blinked slowly, a calculating look further hardening his chiseled features. “Is his life worth the life of this Nephilim? Because I’m willing to trade, soul for soul.”
I looked at Gagiel and he pleaded with me in look and word. Temporary madness drove me to my knees. I couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t give him what he wanted. “I…”
“An answer, Madeline. If you’re to negotiate with me, you’ll do well to answer quickly to avoid my wrath.” When I sucked in a breath, he shrugged. “Too late.”
With a vicious swipe, his claws rendered the flesh of Gagiel’s neck, severing his head in one harsh move.
I slumped forward to one hand, desperate not to collapse. Cold stung my nose. The smell of the car exhaust combined with the garbage in the alley and around the bin to make my eyes water. This wasn’t how this was supposed to have gone down. Gagiel wasn’t supposed to have been beheaded. His arterial spray wasn’t supposed to flaunt my failure as it ran down the brick wall.
Shuddering, I looked up to find Agares starting for me. The idea of being close to him, intimate in sharing space, made me insane. I pulled my Colt 1911 and racked the slide as I shot to my feet. The first bullet left the chamber the second the grip safety disengaged. Emptying my clip was a study in methodical target practice. I’d become emotionally and mentally disengaged. The demon was nothing more than a target I had to eradicate.
The first two shots did little. The third ricocheted off his horn and ripped through his wing.
He screeched at the star-crusted sky.
I never let up.
The fourth shot found one eye, the fifth shot hit something unknown and the sixth shot took out his other eye. And when he opened his mouth to roar in pain and fury, I shot him in the back of the throat too.
Two shots left. That was it. I’d have to pause to reload. If he wasn’t down by then, I was screwed.
Agares fell forward, his eyes bleeding freely, blood running from his mouth. He tried to speak but couldn’t. He lifted his face to me and took a deep, shuddering breath. And smiled.
A chill raced up my spine, little needle pricks that each drew psychological blood.
Father O’Cleary was still down, staring ahead with dumbfounded fear. Talk about a rough introduction to the shit I was dragging him into. No shock and awe campaign could have gone better.
A rent suddenly appeared in the air behind Agares. Heat poured out of that unnatural fissure, mirage shimmering up from it in hard, fast waves. The demon scuttled backward, tucking his wings in tight to his body. Unsteady, he stood when he reached what I knew was a doorway to the Underworld and bowed. Gagiel’s soul drifted up and joined the other wraiths reluctantly returning to the demon. Once he’d joined Agares, the demon dragged himself through the tear between planes and was gone.
Gagiel’s body lay in the alley, not just broken but destroyed. A flash of light exploded before us. When the spots finally cleared and we could see, Gagiel’s body was gone.
I sank back to my knees, overwhelmed with such a sense of defeat that I didn’t know what to do. My plan had failed. I’d taunted Agares with the priest and Gagiel had died a harder death for it. Not only that, he’d died because I was unwilling to trade a soul I cherished for another I knew nothing of. I’d bought Hellion time by damning Gagiel.
And Father O’Cleary? He knelt with his head bowed, hands on his knees. He’d done nothing, hadn’t believed anything I’d said and had folded under pressure. I didn’t blame him. Not exactly. But I sure as hell wasn’t happy with him.
“I-I-I—” O’Cleary stuttered, trying to mop the sweat from his brow. He kept dropping his kerchief, though, and finally gave up. “What?” he croaked, waving wildly toward the end of the alleyway.
Balancing on the balls of my feet, I dropped to his level. “I told you what we were looking for. A demon. A fallen angel. Hell on Earth. You didn’t truly believe me because you didn’t have anything to compare the reality to. I get it.” Rising, I offered him a hand to stand.
He stared at me, swallowing convulsively.
“You indicated you’ve done exorcisms before. I would’ve thought you’d be a little more prepared for this.” The bite of my words wasn’t remotely diluted by my disappointment.
“I’ve interacted with demons, but never like this. I had no idea…” He reached up to push his glasses back up. “They look like men.”
I nodded. “Right up to the end. But I told you he would, that they both would.”
He nodded vigorously as a little color returned to his cheeks. “You did. But I didn’t believe it could be true.”
“So much for faith,” I muttered, shoving the gun back in the holster I wore under my jacket.
His chin jerked up, and I was stunned to see the feral anger in his gaze. “I failed my faith, yes, but you need not condemn me, Ms. Niteclif. This isn’t over.”
“Over?” I asked, incredulous, as he stood. “Hell, yes, it’s over. That demon will be back and he’s going to be gunning for me. I have to find a better defense. I’ll drop you off at the parish.”
Father O’Cleary stood, dusting himself and his Bible off. “What is it the demon wants? Truly wants?”
“Hellion. I told you that too.” Sighing, I started picking up spent casings. In the distance, sirens sounded. “We’ve got to go.”
The priest followed me to the car. “If the demon’s sole interest lies with Hellion, I’d think he’d be more focused on drawing the man out instead of ensuring every interaction involves you.”
I spun around. “You think I haven’t thought of that? That I’ve ignored the fact that there’s something Agares wants besides Hellion? He could have come for Hellion any time before now. He didn’t. He waited for me to be part of the picture. But he could have come for me at any time as well. There’s something about Hellion and me together that he needs. I just don’t know what it is.”
“Hellion has been Agares’s beard. No doubt he wants the man, but he’s most interested in you. I think you know why.”
It made sense. Horrible, awful, logical sense. I looked at the priest, chewing my bottom lip until it was raw. Again, I knew the answer at the same time I knew I was missing something.
He waited.
“Maybe Micah was Agares’s bait. Maybe he knew the Nephilim would find me, lead him straight to me. Wit
h the pheromones acting like a veritable mating call, he could have known I was in my prime. Micah knew, and he could have told Agares, or maybe the demons knew about the child some other way.”
O’Cleary’s forehead creased as his brows drew together. “Child?”
“I have to get pregnant,” I croaked out. “And it seems like there’s a very dangerous bidding war going on regarding who’s going to father the child.”
“It seems there’s more to the story you haven’t told me, but an unplanned pregnancy doesn’t sound like the solution.”
“You don’t know that half of it, Father.”
And he really didn’t. I was a walking tomb with a womb, because more than half the males who wanted to father this child were most interested in seeing me dead soon after birth.
“Let’s go.” My words were squeezed out around the tangled knot of emotion that had formed in my chest.
Father O’Cleary was right on my heels when he spoke, and I could smell the lingering whiskey. “There’s still the matter of your crisis of faith.”
“The agreement was that we’d talk about it after Hellion was safe. He’s not.”
Father O’Cleary followed me to the driver’s side of the car. “I beg to differ. We’ve established that Hellion may not be Agares’s primary focus. If that’s true, Hellion is safe.”
The laugh that escaped me was so bitter it left an aftertaste. “You think? Agares will kill Hellion just to spite me. I have to drop you off and get home before this shit gets any worse.”
“Too late.”
I whipped around to find Hellion standing behind us, his anger whipping up a fierce wind around him.
Definitely too late.
Chapter Eighteen
I had to hand it to Father O’Cleary. He didn’t faint when Hellion demanded the parish name and then, announcing he’d meet us there, disappeared. Sure, the priest had faltered, his mouth working soundlessly, but he hadn’t lost his shit. If I was taking bets, though, I was going to say the chances of him losing it before this was over were running a good 3-to-1 odds, and not in his favor.
“H-how d-did he…” O’Cleary stuttered.
“You just saw a demon decimate a Nephilim, take multiple shots to the head, cross planes back to Hell, and you’re worried about how Hellion gets around?” I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at one corner of my mouth.
The priest nodded rapidly. “Fair.”
We slid into the car and silently headed back to the church. About halfway there, I couldn’t take it anymore. There was too much going on in my head, and I couldn’t keep my sanity if I thought about Gagiel’s death. My burden of guilt had never been heavier. I touched the priest’s arm and he jerked away hard enough to rattle the seat harness.
“Sorry.” I moved my hand back to the gearshift, moving through the gears like an automaton as we wound through traffic.
“Did you want something?” His soft words were hardly a breath above the rumble of the engine.
“I just… Are you okay?” What an inane question.
“I’m ashamed of myself.”
I glanced at him, surprised to find he’d folded his hands in his lap and now stared at them as if they held the answers he needed clutched tightly inside. “You couldn’t have known, Father.”
“You told me rather explicitly what we’d face. The moment I should have called on the Divine, I crumbled.” Self-hatred wafted out of him like an apple pie that had bubbled over and burned on the bottom of the oven—smoky, acrid, sour. “I wasn’t the tool I was honed to be.”
“Hey. You did what you could, Father.”
“Do not patronize me!” His shout startled me so badly I swerved and nearly sideswiped a row of parked cars.
I whipped the car into the first car park I came to and shut it down. Turning on the priest, I leaned over and got in his face. “Don’t you dare assume that this’s about you and your ‘performance,’ O’Cleary. This is bigger than you or me or Hellion. I’m doing the best I can to get through this. You need to decide right now if you want to be part of the solution or part of a singularly bad memory.”
He gaped at me, clearly unused to people—women?—being so direct. Well, screw subservient. I wasn’t going to show my belly in the face of his anger.
“Which is it?” I waited, watching a variety of emotions chase each other across his face. With intentionally slow movements, I lifted my wrist and glanced down at my watch. “Tonight, O’Cleary.”
“You’re a hard woman, Ms. Niteclif.” He tugged at his Roman collar again, only to immediately work to straighten it. Then he turned to face me. “I’m part of the solution.”
“Then call me Maddy. And stop pulling at your collar. It advertises your hesitation.” I started the car and pulled back into traffic.
“What else do I need to know?” he asked as he nervously fanned the pages of his Bible.
“Straighten up whatever you need to straighten up.” I think I stopped breathing for a second. “Sorry. What I meant was—”
“Exactly what you said.” He cleared his throat. “I appreciate that. My affairs are in order and my relationship with my Father is in good standing, though I’ll be serving penance for failing Him tonight.”
The rest of the ride was silent as we prepared to face down one very pissed off magus.
Hellion was waiting at the foot of the parish steps. I didn’t ask how he’d known where, exactly, the church was, seeing as he could only materialize places he’d been before. It was irrelevant. He looked at me with a cool black stare that told me how angry he really was. There was a chasm of difference between us, one I was scared we couldn’t bridge. Bahlin had taught me that happily-ever-after was a fight more often lost than won. I was ashamed to realize I didn’t trust Hellion enough to love me through the hard times, through our differences, through the now.
I closed my eyes. Fighting to find the center of me that no one could touch, the part of me that said this was the right thing to do, I breathed. When I finally found it, it was a much smaller kernel of conviction than it had been before Gagiel’s death. Still, I clung to it. I knew what I’d done was right, even if I’d failed.
I also knew I had to find the other Nephilim. Agares would hunt twice as hard for him now. I finally had an advantage. I knew the fallen angel was in the city. Agares could only presume there was another Nephilim hanging around due to my continued presence. Pretty good presumption. I was either going to save a fallen angel or lead Agares right to him. Shit. Sighing, I opened my eyes.
“Let’s, ah, all go inside?” Father O’Cleary tugged at his Roman collar and I glared. He quit.
“Let’s.” Hellion started up the stairs beside the priest.
I trailed behind, the little pariah who’d broken the rules. Well, screw that. I moved to the other side of the priest. The men allowed me to go first through the doors out of long-ingrained habit. Score one for manners. I led the way to the priest’s office and went straight to the sideboard to generously pour three highball glasses deep with whiskey. Handing them out without comment, I sat in the same chair I’d occupied earlier.
Hellion moved to the drafting table, leaning one hip against it, standing. His throat worked as he swallowed. His gaze never left me.
I wanted to explain, to squirm, to plead for him to understand. When he spoke, I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping.
“How did the Vitesse handle?”
“It was amazing.” I glanced at the priest.
He’d paused, glass halfway to his lips.
I wasn’t the only one surprised.
“Care to tell me why you took it? I’d have gladly given it to you had you but asked.” Hellion took a generous swallow of his drink then let the glass dangle between thumb and middle finger.
“The car?” I asked stupidly. “You’re upset about the car?”
“No, Maddy, I’m not. But you took it, left in a rush without telling anyone where you were going—”
“Because I wanted t
o do this, explore this option, alone.” I set my glass down hard enough the expensive whiskey sloshed over the rim. Standing, I turned to face him. “I needed to do this myself, Hellion. Why? Because I didn’t want Agares anywhere near you. I love you, and I wanted to spare you what I could.”
“And ye doona think slaying my own dragons would be better for me?” His voice was low, dangerous.
“It’s not a matter of ‘think’ anymore. I know—” I put a fist to my heart “—I know you’re ready to cross a line you may not come back from. Am I ready to lose you to this? To any threat? No. I’m not.” I nearly choked on the sob lodged in my throat. “I’m not.”
He set his glass down with great care. “And you think dark magic will be my downfall?”
“I don’t know. You said it would change you, and I don’t want that. I want you, Hellion. You. Can you not see why I’d be so terrified of losing you?” An angry tear traced down my cheek, its trail a cold, miserable thing.
Hellion slowly closed his eyes. “I’ll not cross so far I canna come back. That I promise.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
His eyes opened, his focus sharpening on me. “Lie?”
“You know the pull is there. You said so yourself. This is about more than what you can manage, Hellion. This is about us. Are you willing to risk us on the chance you can’t find your way back to me?”
“I’d never risk you, Maddy.”
My heart ached. “But you are, Hellion. When you risk us, you risk everything good that I am.” A second tear followed the first. “Is it worth that?”
“Never.”
“Then promise me. Promise me you aren’t going to cross that line.”
“I can’t. If it means saving your life, defeating Connell, sending Agares to Hell… I can’t.”
The chasm between us grew.
“But I promise you, I promise you, that if I begin to fall too far, I’ll find my way back. To you. Always to you.” He took the first step of faith and I began to believe the chasm might be bridgeable.
I nodded. “To me.”
“I love you, Madeline Dylis Niteclif.”