The Devil Is a Gentleman

by J. L. Murray

  “The thought did occur to me.”

  “I have a soft spot for outsiders, that’s all.”

  “I wouldn’t call Eli an outsider,” I said.

  “He is a half-demon trying to live in a human world. What would you call it?”

  “I guess I didn’t look at it like that. It was always me that was the outsider. I was the Abnormal. I keep forgetting.”

  “Anyway,” said Sam, gesturing dismissively, “I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about you. He means something to you, even if you’re not sure what that is. So I helped him.”

  “Me?” I said. “Why would you do that? I mean, really, you hardly know me.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said. “You hardly know me. I know more about you than anyone else will ever know. I’ve seen inside of you, Niki. I know you. You’re different.”

  “Different than what?” I said. I could feel him looking at me again, but I was afraid to meet his eyes.

  “Everything,” he said.

  I cleared my throat. “What’s going on? The ghosts, they’re not crossing over. They’re everywhere. And they mob me when they know I’m there. Just me. To have dead things inside you, it’s not something I look forward to. Is it connected to your trouble? With the war?”

  Sam sighed. I met his eyes again. I saw the darkness shifting there, like a cloud in the night sky. The more I looked at him, the easier it was to withstand his gaze. “I try to keep things from you, Niki. But you make it damn difficult.”

  “What things?”

  “I’m trying to keep you safe. It’s not an easy job.” He started to smile, but his face turned quickly solemn. “I’m worried that if I tell you too much, it could put you in danger.”

  “I’m always in danger,” I said lightly. “You know me.” It came off as false and hollow. I grimaced.

  “This is different,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair. “The war is not a sure thing. Publicly, of course, it is not even a possibility. But I can feel it. It feels like last time.”

  “The One War,” I said.

  “You know it?” he said, impressed.

  “What are you?” I said.

  “I think you already know.”

  “Angel?” I said.

  He looked at me, frowning slightly. “Does it scare you?”

  “A little,” I said. “Eliza, too?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry about my reaction to the news of her arrival. I was caught off guard. She is quite powerful where we come from. The Creed is in charge of justice where we come from.”

  “The Creed?” I said.

  He sighed. “The Creed is judge, jury and executioner, as they say here. Or, rather, what she deems justice. It is cruel, more often than not. Hers is a harsh morality.”

  “Why would she come for you?” I said. “What have you done wrong?”

  “Nothing wrong,” he said. “Just different. You delivered the message yourself.”

  “You have to pick a side.”

  Sam nodded. “I’m afraid it’s not that easy, though. If I do pick a side, the side I don’t pick will take it as a slight. Ultimately, me picking a side starts the damn war.” He shook his head. “It’s all such a mess.”

  “Why does your opinion matter so much?” I said. “Why do they care what you think?”

  “It’s not the why that’s important,” he said. “The spirits won’t be able to cross over until the matter is settled.”

  “They’re stopping them from crossing over?” I said. “Who?”

  “Angels mostly,” he said. “Michaelites — followers of Michael. Loyalists. There are a few opportunistic Hellions thrown in there, though. Heaven has gotten very political lately. And they’ve stuck me right in the middle.”

  “Sounds as bad as my world,” I said.

  “Worse,” said Sam. “My kind have a superiority complex most of the time. And the multiple universes are common knowledge so we’re always trying to stay in control of things. I say we, but I am rarely part of the scheming unless Michael decides it could better his cause.”

  “What about, you know, God?”

  “What about Him?” said Sam. “You know as much about Him as I do.”

  “Doesn’t He live in Heaven?”

  “That’s what they say,” he said. “They are often wrong. He’s as mysterious to me as He is to your lot. I’ve been alive for a very long time, I’ve met several gods, but He was not one of them.”

  I sipped my nearly-gone drink and took that in. “Why do the ghosts know me?” I said. “How do they know who I am?”

  “I don’t have all the answers,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “What about The Blood?” I said. “What do you know about them?”

  He didn’t speak for a moment, but I felt him, or rather sensed him, tense up next to me. “I know a little,” he said. “What do you know?”

  “Some,” I said. “I know Sasha worked for them, and Naz. I know they set up the Abaddon summoning and had my dad arrested. I know they’re dangerous. And I know they have angelwine.”

  “It would appear,” said Sam, “that they are something of a loose end.”

  “What does that mean?” I said.

  “No matter,” said Sam. “From what I know about The Blood, they are dangerous and unpredictable. It concerns me that you are going after them on your own.”

  “I won’t be alone,” I said. “Gage is helping me. You said it yourself, Sam. They’ll kill me if I don’t get to them. And they know about you somehow. Naz called you the Death-Man.”

  Sam smiled. “Death-Man?” he said. “It’s not very original. Don’t worry yourself, Niki. They can’t get to me.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” I said. “There was also something about The Morrigan. Ring a bell?”

  “No,” he said. “But judging by her name, it can’t be good for you. Would it do any good to ask you to lay low?”

  “Congressman Bradley is dead and his body burned almost beyond recognition. Naz is dead, after he warned me that they can find anyone, anywhere, anytime. I’m on their list, and they are drinking angel blood to turn them into unstoppable monsters. And you’re asking me to lie down and just wait for them to find me?”

  “Have it your way,” said Sam. “But I can’t get involved. You won’t be able to use the badges. This is not Department of Order and Chaos business, you understand? I need to be clear about this.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Calm down. We won’t use the badges.”

  “I’m sorry, Niki. But if Michael gets wind that I’ve been so involved here, he might have an excuse to start a war. You recall that everything we’ve done has been to suppress Hellions? He doesn’t need much, and there is some talk that I am politically motivated. Just please, be careful.” He grasped my hand in his, the heat of it seeming impossibly warm. “We may yet need each other in the future.”

  “I’ll be careful,” I said. “I promise.”

  “Good,” he said, letting go of my hand. I felt slightly chilled when his hand left mine. He turned to hop down from the bench.

  “Sam?” I said, stopping him. He looked at me. “Did you do this? My arm, I mean.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “You are most welcome.”

  I gathered up my blood-stiff coat, holding it away from my body, and followed him over to the bar. Janis ignored us, smoking a cigarette and filling out her crossword. Gage turned. “So what’s the story?” he said. “Am I taking you home, sis?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “We have a cabin to check out.”

  Gage grinned at Sam. “You believe this?”

  Sam smiled wanly. “Take care of her, Robert,” he said.

  Chapter 8

  My arm still ached and I rubbed it, feeling the hard scar under my fingers. I asked Gage to stop at my apartment so I could change my clothes.

  “So what was all that about?” said Gage.

  “What do you mean?” I said.

  “S
am. How do you rate?”

  “How do I rate what?”

  “You’re his favorite,” said Gage. “How did that happen? He pays you more, takes you aside to talk to you alone, somehow manages to pop up just when you need help. Something going on with you two?”

  “What?” I said. “No. Of course not. We were talking about Eli.”

  “Sure you were,” said Gage.

  “You got something you want to say to me?” I said. “Come on, out with it.”

  Gage glanced from the road to me and back again. “You know what Sam is, don’t you?”

  “I thought you told me it was better not to ask,” I said.

  “Asking’s one thing,” he said. “Putting the pieces together is another.”

  “I know what Sam is,” I said. “He’s an angel.”

  Gage snorted. “Sam’s no ordinary angel, sis. You gotta remember that. I like you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’m not going to get hurt,” I said, holding up my arm. “I’m already maimed.”

  “I’m serious, Niki,” said Gage, his voice taut. I looked at him. Gage stared furiously at the road, as if he were intent on his driving. “Just promise you won’t get, you know, involved with him.”

  “What’s this all about, Bobby?” I said. “I thought you liked Sam.”

  “I like him well enough,” he said, glancing at me. “Don’t want to see him when I’m not working for him, though.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s dangerous. Can we just leave it at that?” Gage rubbed his face, his whiskers scratching against his hand. “Just keep it professional, okay, sis?” His voice was quiet now.

  “Why is he dangerous?” I said.

  “Goddamn it, Niki. Can you just stop asking questions? Just listen to me,” Gage yelled. I jumped. I’d never seen Gage angry before. Usually he took things in stride with a shrug. I’d never seen him like this.

  We pulled in front of my apartment and Gage turned off the ignition and turned to look at me. “Angels are bad news in general, and I usually make an exception for Sam, but not with you. I want you to stay alive, you understand me? Stay alive so we can keep doing this. I don’t want to lose this gig. It’s all I got,” he said. “And I like you, Niki. You’re good people. Saved my ass a few times.”

  I nodded. “Okay, Bobby,” I said. “Nothing’s going on, by the way.”

  “You keep telling yourself that,” he said, “but I know what I saw back at the bar. The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he talks about you…just please listen to me for once. I always follow your lead, you know that. Just this once I need you to follow mine.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Okay. Fine. I’ll go change my clothes and be right back.”

  I was in and out quickly, and managed to avoid most of the ghosts. I was almost to the car when they mobbed me again, and the whiskey from the Deep Blue Sea came bubbling up at the touch of the ghosts. I wiped my mouth as I finally slipped into Gage’s car.

  “Mint?” he said, offering me a tin.

  “Thanks,” I said. All his anger seemed to have dissipated. I didn’t think it was possible for Bobby Gage to get angry. I’d seen him scared, sick, and powerful as hell. But angry? Either I didn’t know Gage as well as I thought, or Sam really was dangerous.

  “Nice jacket,” he said.

  “I had to ditch the other one,” I said. “Covered in blood and bullet holes.”

  “So we really doing this?” he said. “Going to investigate the cabin for a job we ain’t getting paid for, is dangerous as hell, and will have unpredictable consequences?”

  “What’s not to like?” I said.

  “You killed four people this morning,” he said. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Three,” I corrected him. “I’m fine. Getting a headache from all this yakking, but other than that, I’m peachy.”

  “How’s your arm?”

  I flexed my bicep for him. “Right as rain,” I said, fighting a wince. “Can we go now?”

  “You should eat something.”

  “Jesus, Bobby, I’ll get a damn sandwich on the way. Let’s go, already.”

  We stopped at a drive-through window, and after eating a greasy, flattened cheeseburger, I dozed off, the morning catching up to me. When I woke, we were bumping along a dusty, potholed road winding through a field, dotted with trees. Looking ahead I saw the trees thicken and soon we were driving into stands of trees hanging with moss, so thick and unkempt that the branches scraped across the top and sides of Gage’s car with a grinding squeal. He grimaced.

  “You owe me big for this one,” he said.

  “It’s not like anyone will notice the scratches,” I said. “This thing’s falling apart. You can see the road through the floor in the backseat.”

  “Nicer than your car,” he said. “I can’t believe you bought that thing.”

  “I needed something cheap,” I said. “Besides, it’s a fixer-upper.”

  “I don’t really think you can say that about cars, sis,” Gage laughed. “We’re almost there.”

  The trees were fanning out a little now, and ahead I saw an old stone chimney, leaning horribly to one side. Gage slammed the brakes suddenly, making me lurch forward. “Almost ran into that damn thing,” he muttered. I looked to see a fallen tree lying across the road, almost invisible in the shadows cast by the trees around us. I got out of the car.

  The house, I could see now, was also leaning, and blended into the background like it had been made to do so. It was made of logs, which as I got closer, appeared to be rotting, the wood turned black and falling apart. Bright green weeds grew up around the house, growing tall enough to cover the one visible window, covered in a layer of dust.

  The door seemed solid enough, the thick wood still in one piece and firmly on its hinges, but as I turned the handle, it swung in, unlocked. I took out my Beretta and motioned for Gage to stay behind me. Before I even entered the smell of bleach wafted in my face, making my eyes water. I took a step inside, holding the collar of my shirt over my nose, and holding my gun out with the other hand.

  I realized there was another smell mingled with the bleach as my eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the cabin: the smell of burnt wood. In the middle of the floor of the sparse, scrubbed cabin was a large, circular burn mark, a starburst of charred wood. I looked around. Everything was clean, like it had recently been scrubbed. There was a metal bedframe with no mattress, part of the rusty metal black from the heat of whatever fire had burned here, but otherwise the place was empty of furniture. There was a fireplace, the stones matching those of the leaning chimney, but the grate was completely free of ash.

  I looked back at Gage. He was frowning at the room trying to make sense of it. “Not what I was expecting,” I said, putting my gun back in its holster. I let go of my collar and ran a finger over the surface of a short counter that ran next to a tiny kitchenette. It came away clean. Not a speck of dust.

  “What the hell happened here?” he said, walking over to the burn marks on the floor.

  A shadow moved in the far corner of the cabin that was not reached by the light from the dirt-filtered light of the window. I reached for my gun. “Don’t bother,” said a deep, cold female voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Eliza?” I said. The commissioner stepped out of the shadows, the blue-tinted glasses veiling her eyes. Even in the dim light her golden hair was shockingly bright. Tight ringlets coiled down her neck.

  Gage grunted, as if her presence didn’t surprise him in the least. I couldn’t say I shared that feeling. “What the hell are you doing here?” I said.

  Eliza stepped into the light and looked down at the charred floorboards. She took off her glasses and put them neatly into the inside pocket of her jacket. She looked up at me. “I’ve been trying to call you, Niki,” she said. “Been busy this morning, haven’t you?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You here to arrest me?” I said.

  “Of course no
t,” she said. She crouched down and put her palm down on the blackened wood. “I’m here to help you.”

  “Why would you do that?” I said.

  “Because we want the same thing,” she said.

  “And what’s that?”

  She sighed and looked up at me. “We both want to find The Blood. Why do you think I was trying to hire you?” she said.

  “What do you want with them?” I said.

  She looked at me coolly for a second, then looked down. “They’ve got my angel. I want him back.”

  “Why don’t you just go get him?” I said. “What’s a bunch of old men compared to an angel?”

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “You’ve talked to Sam, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, I did,” I said, “even though you threatened to kill me.”

  “You told Sam about her?” said Gage.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Didn’t see a reason.”

  “An angel tried to hire you and you didn’t think it was pertinent?” I said.

  “Nope,” he said.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” said Eliza, standing up to her full height. She took a step toward me. Her eyes were dark and strange, just like Sam’s. “The way I understand it, Sam will make anyone that hurts you very sorry.”

  “What does that mean?” I said.

  “She means he’s sweet on you,” said Gage. “For what it’s worth.”

  “Stop saying that, Bobby,” I said. “You’re starting to piss me off.”

  “Only ‘cause it’s true,” he said. Seeing my expression, he raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But get a goddamn clue, Slobodian. You’re a detective for Christ’s sake.”

  Eliza sighed. “Mr. Gage, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment?” She smiled at Gage, an expression that only made her face tighten slightly. “I have a private matter.”

  “He stays,” I said.

  She looked from me to Gage, and pursed her lips. “Fine,” she said. “Have it your way. For starters, I cleaned up your mess this morning.”

  “My mess?” I said. I kept my voice calm, but I could feel my heart start to pump faster. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”