by Jessa Slade
He was glad to see the Art Deco bulk of the old post office looming over the expressway. Better to fight than to think.
Nim looped her elbow over the back of the seat. “Remember, this is recon only. We are not to engage.” She directed a schoolmarm glare at Fane. “Even if the sword is there. Okay?”
He gave her a steady look. “Don’t make me lie to you.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “God, you could so be one of us.”
He cruised the darkened building and circled the long block before parking around the corner. The talyan griped about the extra walk.
“That’s what happens when you drive a nice, memorable car,” he said.
“There will be security cameras in the post office,” Nim warned. “Our teshuva interfere with the electronics enough that they won’t get a good picture of us. But you…”
Fane pulled a black ski mask and black nitrile gloves out of the center console.
She slapped his shoulder again. “Oh yeah, you could definitely be a talya.”
They vaulted the chain link fence around the perimeter—Fane forced himself not to breathe hard and vowed to add an extra thirty minutes to his daily workout—and cased the building. Vandals and rats had been through before them, as well as the fire department who had put out last night’s fire, but other than a lone malice that fled shrieking through a broken window, they found no tenebrae activity, not even a feralis snacking on the bones of unlucky rats. Or vandals.
They exited on the river side, and Fane stared across at the city. Against the black, glistening sky, the glass and steel spires of the city—lit from below—looked suddenly strange to him. Gorgeous and tough…and so vulnerable. Like someone else he knew…
Nim pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “Post office is empty.” She paused, one hand on her canted hip. “Well, I know, and I love you too, but I’m not staying home just because— Seriously? Dude, I totally almost put you on your ass at practice the other day, with one hand tied behind my back. Metaphorically. Maybe you should be the one who… Hold on, I have another call.” She muttered as she switched over, “I don’t know who he thinks…”
The other talyan’s phones erupted in competing ring tones of classical and hip hop.
Fane’s hackles rose at the urgent cacophony, as if the angel already knew.
“Kilbourne and Chicago.” Nim’s crisp tone was all business. “Got it.”
Pitch consulted his phone. “We’re probably fifteen minutes out.”
“Ten,” Fane said.
Nim grinned at him as she spoke to the talya on the other end. “We’ll be there in eight. Wait for us.”
They raced for the Porsche. Fane vowed to add forty five minutes to his workout.
The ice held them back but they cornered at Kilbourne nine minutes later.
Nim shook her head. “You let me down. I guess you need more time on the practice floor too. You and Jonah can make a date of it.”
The Porsche was a silver shark among piranhas as the @1 sedans filed into the industrial area. A scrubby, empty lot spread away from them on one side. On the other side, the big, low buildings were all dark, and the parking lots slotted with tidy rows of delivery trucks, abandoned until after the holiday.
Liam paced through the sleeting rain as his league assembled. “No visual confirmation,” he was saying to those already arrived and the talyan on their phones still incoming, “but heavy tenebrae activity. Birnenston accumulation, ichor sign, and lots o’ rotten egg stench. Still, it’s a huge place and we would’ve missed it if Bella hadn’t found the stamp on one trigger housing.”
Fane stilled. He’d left her safe in her apartment, surrounded by seasonal cheer to protect her against the unrepentant demons that wandered the longest night of the year. “She brought a tenebrae bomb back to the Mortal Coil?”
Liam held up one finger. “I’m calculating odds on we’ll find Thorne, or at least his workshop where he assembled the tenebrae bombs. This is big, people, so let’s be on it. When everyone is here, we go.” He closed his phone and divided the present talyan into teams.
Fane took a step into the league leader’s space. “Bella took a tenebrae bomb with her?”
Liam frowned at him. “No. She’s at the nursing home. Archer said she showed up earlier today with some artifacts she thought would ward off the tenebrae when the bombs blow. But when she was setting them up, she noticed the manufacturing stamp. If we find Thorne’s plans, we might be able to—”
Fane cut him off. “Bella can’t be out tonight.”
Nim, who’d come up behind, chortled. “Oh, you’re another one of those dominant, controlling, maddening mates.”
Fane froze, the icy rain sneaking down the back of his coat. Or at least that’s what it felt like.
Dominant? Fine. Controlling? Maybe. Mad? He hadn’t been before.
Mate?
“You don’t understand,” he snarled. “It’s dangerous for her.”
Nim crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, then what the hell are you doing here?”
Behind her, Fane focused on Jonah, stalking toward them across the slick asphalt, violet fires in his talya eyes.
What indeed?
Fane spun to face Liam. “She can’t be alone.”
“She’s not alone,” Liam pointed out. “Archer and Sera are there. Nanette is there. Ecco is on that team, of course. There’s—”
Fane straightened. “I’m not there.”
The league leader shook his shaggy head. “But most likely, Thorne is here. And your abraxas.”
For a heartbeat, he remembered the sword in his hands, burning golden with the force of the divine presence within him. In Thorne’s hands, the sword would be dulled, polluted, dying, not to mention a terrible danger.
But the sword was not a woman, alive, breathing, in danger herself. And willing to give up her sanctuary to protect the old people from the tenebrae while protecting the tenebrae from the league.
The fiery sword—which he could not be a warden without—was not Bella, fiery in a different way, without whom he might be nothing at all.
He looked at Liam. “Permission to transfer to the B team.”
Nim chuckled. “The dark side, you mean? You don’t need to wait for an okay.”
The league leader waved his hand. “Go. Don’t believe she’ll appreciate your interference though.”
Fane raced for the Porsche. No, he didn’t believe that. But he needed to be with her regardless. Needed it with a burning passion like the abraxas which had once gone through his chest. He loved a demon. And he’d never believed anything so clearly in his life.
Chapter 13
Bella hung the old reliquary from the light fixture over the front door—the last unshielded opening in the nursing home—and glanced with a frown toward the big picture window in the living room.
The sleigh and reindeer ornaments twinkled prettily in the reflected glow from the icicle lights hanging over the porch, but she didn’t like the look of the real ice starting to form at the tips of the plastic icicles. She hadn’t trusted the balding tires on her hatchback and so she’d taken a cab to the nursing home, but it was going to be a bitch finding a ride back to the Mortal Coil.
Back to her empty, exposed loft.
But she was not going to bring the tenebrae that stalked her here; she’d gone to too much effort to make sure any tenebrae would be repelled from the residents. The talyan would have no reason to destroy the starveling tenebrae emerging from the bombs.
Damn it, this was supposed to be a rebirth season. No one—not the old people, not a bruised and lonely bartender, not even a demon—should have to die.
Most of the residents had gone to bed for the night, but a few lingered, including Sera’s father, in front of the TV with cups of dark cocoa afloat with soft white sugar-free marshmallow stars. Nanette moved among them, patting hands, tugging up blankets, adding more marshmallows.
One old woman reached for her sleeve. “It�
��s Christmas, and no one has come to see me.”
“It’s not Christmas quite yet,” Nanette said soothingly. “Be patient. They’ll come.”
And if no one ever came, as no one had come for Mirabel in her need, what would the angelic possessed say then? If Bella hadn’t known better, she would have thought the angel-woman was completely oblivious to the demon-stuffed glass piñatas strewn around the grounds outside. Maybe a certain peace and calm came factory standard with the uploading of a divine entity.
Except that couldn’t be right. Fane had no such tranquility. Just the thought of him set her nerves humming with lust and frustration. On the plus side, thinking of him kept the creeping knowledge of her oncoming tenebrae tormentors at bay.
She was an idiot. She should have used Fane’s credit card to buy every bauble in the old man’s tent. She should have lured the angel-man into her bed with every lie he wanted to hear and kept him there until dawn broke.
She should at least scurry into the activity room to hide out with the tenebrae-snuffing talyan and their pretty purple eyes. She was pretty sure Nanette had given them something stronger than cocoa.
But instead? She was going to head out into the icy night to confront her demons. This was her last Christmas in hiding. Either her fiendish cousins would finally finish her off or she would stand against them, once and for all. No blesséd babies, no glittering glass, no saint’s knucklebone, no drink or drugs, nothing. Just her.
This was the downside of hanging around with repentant warriors and angelic possessed.
At least she still had Mirabel’s box cutter.
If only she could have one cup of cocoa spiked with something… No, now she was just dithering. She opened the reliquary and lit the candle holding the shards of the ornament with the angelic warden’s blood. The votive was a good one from the club and would burn most of the night. When she closed the reliquary, silver flickers lit the rock crystal windows from within like little stars.
Without a word to Nanette, she headed for the front door. She would buzz herself out. No need to answer anyone’s questions. She couldn’t explain anyway.
She triggered the door lock and reached for the handle before it latched again.
The door slammed open.
She had to jump back, and her heart stumbled worse than her feet.
Fane stood in the doorway, his eyes as bright as the reliquary, but instead of silver stars, he glowed like the golden sun.
She looked away, denying the heat that tried to melt her from the inside. She needed to stay hard, as hard as the ice outside. “I have to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She slanted a glance behind her. Nanette had looked up from her rounds and was heading toward them. Bella hissed at him, “I have to go. Now. You know why.”
“I’m not letting you put yourself in danger for no good reason.”
Nanette joined them. “Mr. Fane. I heard you were with the other talyan tonight.” Her glance shuttled between them. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Bella said.
“Yes,” Fane shot back. He took an aggressive step forward to loom over Bella. “You’re not going out there alone.”
Nanette frowned at him. “Of course she wasn’t.” When Bella didn’t answer, Nanette turned the frown on her. “It’s not a good night to be out. The weather is atrocious. And the tenebrae, of course.”
“Exactly.” Bella finally looked at Fane. His furious gaze cut at her, hot and shattered as the glass in the reliquary. “Sometimes a bad reason is a good reason.”
Nanette shook her head. “What is that supposed to mean?” She beckoned, and from the open doors of the activity room angled toward the lobby, Ecco emerged as if he’d been watching. “Ecco, tell Bella she should stay.”
Bella groaned and shot an accusing look at Fane. “You’re making this worse.”
Ecco sauntered up. “Nanette says stay. Stay. Have a cup of cocoa. You wouldn’t believe the marshmallows are sugar free.” He held up his gauntleted fist, letting the razor studs shine. “See? I ate half the bag and no sugar shakes.”
Bella dragged her gaze off the sharp edges to look at the talya. He crossed his arms, gauntlets bristling, and he was not smiling. He obviously had no intention of letting her walk out against Nanette’s wishes.
She lifted her chin. She knew one way to make them let her go. Hell, they’d kick her out so fast maybe even the tenebrae couldn’t catch her. Assuming the league didn’t kill her outright. “You don’t want me here,” she told the big talya.
“Nanette says stay,” he repeated.
“She doesn’t want me here either.”
Nanette sputtered. “That’s not true. You came here to help. Of course we want you.”
“Bella.” Once again, the warning was back in Fane’s voice.
But she wouldn’t be stopped by threats, not from him, not from the tenebrae, not anymore. And all she had to do was let go of the fear and the lies. Inevitability was its own sort of peace.
She squared her shoulders and slipped off her glasses. “I am an imp.”
Nanette recoiled. She must have heard the ring of truth. Ecco was slower, or more skeptical. He let his arms fall ready at his sides and took a step closer. As he glared into her eyes, his irises took on the violet glow of the teshuva within him, incisive and lethal.
Fane stepped between them. “No. It’s not like that.”
Bella sidestepped just as quickly, reaching for the door. “There’s no way to whitewash a demon, Fane. Let me go.”
“No one is going anywhere in this storm.” Sera stalked into the lobby, Archer’s menacing mass right on her heels filling up the rest of the small space. “Fane, I can’t believe you made it here without killing yourself. What the hell is going on out here?”
Ecco pointed at Bella. “That is an imp.”
Nanette pressed the back of her knuckles to her mouth, as if she might be sick. “It’s impossible. She can’t be tenebrae. I used to see the evil…”
“There’s nothing evil to see,” Fane growled. “She’s trying to throw herself to the tenebrae as penance for past sins. Which I know you talyan are so fond of.”
“It wasn’t a little sin,” Bella shot back. “I killed that girl.”
Sera peered at her with an academic’s curious eye. “An imp? Slow down while I catch up. I admit, I didn’t read all the league guidebooks when I was interim Bookkeeper, but I thought lesser tenebrae weren’t capable of sustaining a full possession for long.”
“I guess you were wrong.” Bella cut one hand across her middle, as if she flayed herself open for scrutiny. “I’ve been in this body for almost a decade, ever since I drove out the poor soul who was here first.”
Fane put his hands on her shoulders, almost as heavy as her guilt. “There was no you before the imp took the soul’s place.”
She shrugged him off. “Doesn’t matter. The other tenebrae will be coming for me, like they always do this time of year. Their presence could set off Thorne’s bombs. And that would without question be my fault. So let me go.”
Archer unleashed his weapon. The segmented axe flared open, wicked as Death’s scythe, forcing them all back from the door. “No one is leaving. The raw emotions in this space could trigger the bombs without a single malice floating by.”
Sera shook her head. “When the team at Thorne’s headquarters hits, there’s no way the bombs here will stay intact. Thorne will detonate just to retaliate. We have to be ready.” Her violet-shot gaze circled them. “All of us,” she emphasized.
Nanette nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’re all in this together.” She gave Bella a tentative, wobbling smile.
Bella clutched her hands into fists. Pretty ineffective compared to a battle axe, but her fists were all she had, besides the box cutter. “You all are so… blind! You think the tenebraeternum is going to be impressed by your teamwork and acceptance and—”
“Love.”
The reliquary hangin
g above them all flared. From the tiny crystal windows, prismatic sparkles marked the walls like angelic ichor.
She whirled on Fane. “What did you say?”
He hadn’t gone more than a step away from her despite Archer’s axe. “Isn’t that what you were going to mock next? The power of love?”
She narrowed her eyes, as if she could constrict the sudden pounding of her heart at the sound of the word on his lips. “Yes. That won’t get you anywhere.” After what’d he’d been through, he should know. And yet he was looking at her with those clear blue eyes as if he’d forgotten the anguish.
Or forgiven.
“Maybe,” he said softly, “we just haven’t given it enough of a chance yet.”
The silence between them ticked like a bomb.
After a moment, Ecco rubbed the back of his head. “What the hell are you two talking about?”
“Nothing,” Bella snapped. “With you talyan here and the relics I left, you can hold the line against the tenebrae.” She looked at Sera. “Sid had wished you could bring the verge here, to send the demons back to hell. I will be your walking verge. Send me away and the tenebrae will follow.”
Archer shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how empty you think you are, but you can’t hold that many tenebrae.”
Bella shivered. How did he know her emptiness? Could those bronze eyes wracked with violet streaks see so deep? She didn’t think so. No one saw her.
Sera laid her hand on Archer’s arm and didn’t let go. “We don’t send anyone alone against the darkness. Not anymore.”
“That’s all a demon is,” Bella said bitterly. “Darkness.”
Sera plastered her other hand wide across Archer’s chest, as if he was her Exhibit A. “You forget who you are talking to.”
“The teshuva repented,” Bella reminded her. As if the talya needed reminding she’d been possessed by a repentant demon seeking its salvation.
Nanette clasped her hands in front of her. “And haven’t you repented? Why else did you come to help us except you wanted to make amends?”
The question floated in front of Bella, a star in the storm, beyond her grasp. “As if saying makes it so.”