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A Fire in the Heart

Page 6

by L. J. LaBarthe


  “She won’t like that, sir,” Declan said.

  “I don’t fucking care,” Gabriel snapped. “This is a direct order. Do you understand?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!”

  “Surveillance only. Report to me every five hours. That includes reports of any breaking of those orders. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gabriel nodded to himself. “Good. Let’s not have anyone else die or be in a coma, shall we? A smooth mission means a smooth operation after the intel’s sorted. You know how this works, both you and Liam. I’m putting you in command of the pack for the moment—yes, I know that’ll piss Angelique off even more, but again, I don’t fucking care. You’re older, you’re less inclined toward showy gestures of bullshit to prove how okay you are.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I expect a report from you when you arrive. When do you plan to leave Salem?”

  “Tomorrow morning, sir.”

  “Right. Report when you get into town.”

  “Sir.”

  “And take care of the pack,” Gabriel added.

  “I will, sir.”

  “Good.” Gabriel ended the call and laid his phone down on Raphael’s desk.

  “Well, I think you managed to put the fear of God into him with that call,” Raphael said.

  “Again, good. They need to be serious about this shit.”

  “Oh, I don’t disagree with you,” Raphael said. “I think you’re entirely correct and that Angelique has a tendency to try to overdo it and stretch her orders to the breaking point when she’s trying to prove something. Declan in charge is a better choice, he’s much calmer. If Lily were on active duty right now, I’d say she’d be an even better choice as she rarely gets excited. Declan’s a good second option.”

  Gabriel sighed and shook his head. “I hate all this, Raph,” he said. “I hate all the bullshit, the way these ungrateful humans look at us as if we’re the ones to blame for how the world is. I hate that there’s this nut-job company wanting to destroy all the gates and close off Earth like some giant marble of isolationism.”

  Raphael gave him a sad smile. “Agreed, Gabe,” he said. “But we can’t do anything about it. Free will, remember?”

  Gabriel grunted. “Sometimes, I think giving humans free will was God’s greatest error. Give ’em an inch, and some of them will take a mile.”

  Raphael chuckled. “At least it’s never boring.”

  “No, it’s never that. You got any beer here?”

  “In the mess hall,” Raphael said. “Just don’t take it out into the clinic or gardens.”

  Gabriel gave him a salute. “Roger that.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Hell no. Company would be welcome.” Gabriel grinned at him. “A break is as good as a holiday, yeah?”

  Raphael got to his feet, running his dark hands through his curly black hair. “Definitely. And a beer sounds damn brilliant right at the moment.”

  Gabriel got to his feet as well. “Then let’s go do that.”

  5

  DECLAN LOOKED at Angelique and Baxter saw that his alpha looked furious. He wondered if maybe Declan shouldn’t have put Gabriel’s call on speaker, but it was too late now. They’d all heard.

  “So, I’ve been demoted, huh?” Angelique growled through clenched teeth.

  “No,” Declan said, his voice firm and his eyes locked with hers. “Not even a little. You’re still alpha. You call the shots. This mission is still yours.”

  “What about what Gabe said?” she demanded.

  “What about it? He told me to keep an eye on things, and I’ll do that. I do that anyway, so it’s not like he’s given me some new and bizarre order. The only new thing for you guys is reporting to him and not Mike. But considering how wrecked Mike must be right at the moment, that’s common sense.”

  She huffed a little but seemed to be much calmer. “Okay. I can live with that.”

  Silently, Baxter decided that Declan deserved a medal for being able to defuse Angelique’s anger so quickly, calmly, and logically. “Okay.” Declan leaned back in his seat. “Man, that was an intense call, wasn’t it?”

  They all murmured their agreement. Liam got to his feet. “Dude, I’ll go get something to eat,” he said. “Let’s have a relaxed night so that when we’re ready to head out, we’re feeling good.”

  “Pizza,” Declan said. “That pizza shop down the road is amazing.”

  “Okay, pizza. Again.” Liam grinned. “Any other requests, or shall I just make a decision when I get there?”

  “Surprise us,” Angelique said.

  “Gotcha. Want to come with me, Bax?”

  “Sure.” Baxter got to his feet.

  “Won’t be long,” Liam said, making his way to the door.

  Baxter followed him, and when they were in the hallway of the large house, he let out a heavy sigh. “I thought Angelique was going to explode. Like, literally explode, like a human shifter volcano or something.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty tense.” Liam shook his head. “Dec handled it well, though.”

  “Damn well. I’m impressed.”

  Liam laughed. “I’ll tell him that. He won’t see what the big deal is.”

  “Because he’s not used to Angelique the Alpha,” Baxter said. “I think it was a good thing this all happened in your apartment, too. If it had been hers, it would’ve been worse. She would have felt like her den was being attacked.”

  Liam frowned. “I didn’t think of that. Damn.”

  “Yeah. Let’s get food. Maybe if we feed her enough, she’ll have a good night’s sleep in a predator coma and be okay for the mission.”

  “Predator coma?” Liam looked amused.

  “You know when you eat a huge, delicious meal comprised mostly of meat, and then you feel like you could have a post-eating nap? That’s a predator coma.”

  Liam laughed. “I love it.”

  “I hope you love me, too,” Baxter teased.

  “Damn right I do.” Liam looped an arm around Baxter’s neck, and they walked out of the building and around it to the cars. “How could I not love you? You’re amazing.”

  “You keep saying that. I think you’re confused about what amazing actually means.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure I’m using it properly.” Liam went over to his car and unlocked it, and Baxter climbed into the passenger side. Once Liam was behind the wheel and closed his door, he went on, “I know you don’t see yourself as anything special, and on the one hand, I don’t get that at all, but on the other, it’s kinda nice, because you’re not so full of yourself that you think you’re above all the rest of us mere mortals. You’re a genuinely good guy, and even better, you’re my genuinely good guy.”

  “You’re such a smooth talker,” Baxter said. “Silver-tongued devil.”

  Liam wrinkled his nose. “Can you imagine how uncomfortable it would be to have a silver tongue?”

  Baxter burst out laughing. “Fuck, I love you.”

  “Love you right back, baby.” Liam started the car, pulled out of the driveway, and started driving down the street.

  Their errand didn’t take them long, and, loaded down with sodas, pizzas, burritos, and a cheesecake, Liam and Baxter returned to the apartment. They could hear laughter from the hallway and exchanged a look that spoke volumes: what had happened while they’d been gone, and what was everyone laughing at?

  Liam kicked the door, and after a moment, Riley opened it. “I would’ve knocked, but my hands are full,” Liam explained.

  Riley nodded. “Wow, you guys bought a lot of food.”

  “We’re hungry,” Baxter said.

  “I’ll clear some space for you to put things down,” Riley said, moving back into the apartment. Baxter and Liam followed him in, Liam kicking the door closed behind them.

  Baxter went to put the sodas and cheesecake in the fridge and grabbed some cold drinks. He entered the living room and quirked an eyebrow as he saw that the coffee tabl
e now held the pizzas and burritos and that the floor was strewn with photographs.

  “What’s this?”

  “Oh, I was showing Riley and Angelique photos from our childhood and our travels,” Declan said. “I keep them in a shoebox in the truck. Sometimes the job gets you down a bit, you know? And having memories of past good times is a good thing to pull you out of that.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Baxter said, moving closer to look at the photo that Angelique was giggling over. “Who’s this?” He pointed at the photo as he sat down on the sofa.

  Liam rolled his eyes. “I’m preparing myself for an eon of teasing after this.” But his voice was more amused than annoyed.

  “Dec, you look pretty hot,” Angelique said, “but who’s this pretty girl?”

  Baxter leaned forward to get a better look. There was Declan, in his military uniform and looking very smart. Beside him was a very tall person with long, shaggy, light brown hair. “Is that…?”

  Liam blew a loud raspberry at them, and Angelique started laughing harder. “Oh man,” she said. Then, “That’s a lovely name. Is it ancient Aramaic or some dead language?”

  Baxter started to laugh. “Is that you, Liam?”

  “That’s my bro,” Declan said with a grin on his face. “He was going through a long-haired hippy stage at the time.”

  “No, I was rebelling, but no one realized,” Liam said. “I guess that’s what happens when everyone in your family is used to weirdness on an hourly basis and some of your best friends are ghosts or angels.”

  “I remember this day so well,” Declan said. “Jake was taking photos as I was about to be deployed to Mexico. Selana was in tears, you remember?”

  “I do,” Liam said. “She was so worried. But she was so proud as well.”

  Declan’s expression was one that Baxter hadn’t seen before. It was soft, fond, his eyes full of memories. “They were good times.”

  “Yeah,” Liam agreed. “Good people, too.”

  “Are they still alive?” Riley asked.

  “Yeah, they are. We e-mail regularly, VoIP chat when we can. It’s not as good as being there, but you know. The job comes first.”

  “Maybe when this lot is finished, we can take Jelly and pack down to visit,” Liam suggested.

  Declan nodded. “That’d be awesome, actually.”

  “I’d like that a lot,” Angelique said. “I’d like to see where you grew up and meet your extended family.”

  “Me too,” Baxter said. He was looking steadily at Liam. “A whole lot.”

  “They’d like to meet you guys, too,” Declan said. “I sent them an e-mail about what all happened in the Mountain of Doom. Selana scolded me for not being more careful, and then she told me to make sure everyone was okay and asked if she should send any supplies.”

  “I hope you took her up on that. I could use a few things,” Liam said.

  “I did, because I do too, so it’s en route.” Declan dug another photo out of the box. “Now, look at my little brother when he was really little. Aged fourteen and just before he got his growth spurt.”

  Baxter took the photo and, before he could stop himself, made a loud “aww” noise. Liam’s hair was shoulder-length, and his green eyes were wide and bright, his nose dusted with freckles. He was holding a large ginger cat—the cat’s expression was one of feline resignation—and standing beside him, a huge smile on her face, was a Puerto Rican lady wearing a simple blue-green dress. Her long black hair was done in cornrow braids back from her face, revealing large dark eyes and high cheekbones. She was beautiful, but what was more beautiful, to Baxter’s mind, was not how she appeared, but the obvious love in her expression as she looked at Liam.

  “You guys had a lot of love growing up, huh?” Baxter asked.

  “Yeah,” Declan said. His voice was a little rough. “Yeah, we did. We were—are—damn lucky.”

  “They’re awesome people,” Liam said. “Selana… I remember she sang while she cooked, so the kitchen was always full of delicious smells and her singing. It was like… like sunshine in that house. Jake was quiet, but he adores her, and he taught us both how to shoot, how to ride a horse, how to track, and how to hide ourselves. He took us to ballgames and football, bought Declan his first beer, and Selana taught us how to live off the land, how to use magic, how to harness our gifts so that they didn’t hinder us. They were both so awesome when I first started telling them about the ghosts I could see. They didn’t freak out or want to lock me up.”

  “What did they do?” Angelique asked.

  “They told me that everyone has a special talent. Some people can draw, some can sing, some can change their shape, some can see the dead. They said that every talent is remarkable, not because of the talent, but because of the person who has the talent and how they develop it. They told me that seeing the dead as I do was a rare talent, like a diamond, and that I should think of the ghosts as friends, not enemies or dangerous. And Selana told me to learn from them and listen to their stories. She’s the one who told me the most important thing about the dead, which I think I told you guys back in France: that the dead just want to be acknowledged and listened to.”

  “I remember that,” Baxter said. “I want to hear more about your childhood.”

  “Me too,” Angelique said.

  “So do I, if that’s all right,” Riley said.

  “And we’ll tell you, but first, we eat,” Declan said. “And we’ll wait until Lily and Danny are back, because it wouldn’t be fair to keep the good stories from them.”

  “You are such a good guy, Dec,” Angelique said. It was the first time Baxter had ever heard her say something like that to someone outside of the pack. “You and Liam… I wasn’t sure about you two at first, but my God, you’ve proved yourselves again and again. You’re good people.”

  “Takes one to know one, Jelly,” Declan said. He handed her a burrito. “Now eat, for tomorrow we travel.”

  “How are we getting to Maine?” Liam asked as he opened the pizza box.

  “I called Shateiel,” Angelique said as she unwrapped her food. “He said he’d take us.”

  “Oh, okay. Cool.”

  PACING BACK and forth in the living room of the house that he now shared with Ishtahar and Hiwa, Ahijah couldn’t shake the feeling of being left on the sidelines. His brother was in Russia now, having returned thanks to Remiel teleporting him there. Ahijah had no doubt that Hiwa was busily immersing himself in the world of Russian crime, both for his own entertainment and to find out what he could about the operation designed to shut Earth off from every other plane of existence. Their mother was out, visiting with several Nephilim ladies who had taken to her like everyone always seemed to. They had quickly adopted Ishtahar in lieu of their own mothers, finding a sense of comfort in her presence that had been denied them for millennia since the slaughter of the other Nephilim and the loss of their families in Uriel’s Flood for Noah.

  Everyone had something to do. Ahijah was not jealous by nature, nor was he given to petulance. Right now, though, he felt as if he could be helping and was instead simply sitting on his backside, twiddling his thumbs. It was a little frustrating, and as he ran his hands through his hair, he felt embarrassed by his own emotions and thoughts.

  He wanted to talk to someone, but he wasn’t sure who. Finally, he rolled his eyes at himself. He knew he was being silly, that if Hiwa were here, his brother would lightly punch his shoulder, call him an idiot, and say to stop being so dramatic. Ahijah wanted to talk to Hiwa then, but not as much as he wanted to talk to Samael. Samael was his favorite of all angelkind, and Ahijah had always been very fond of him.

  He sat down, closed his eyes, and concentrated, reaching out to Samael. “Samael, can you hear me?”

  “Ahijah?” Samael’s mental voice was surprised. “Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is fine. I just… are you busy at the moment?”

  “Not particularly. Do you need something?”

  �
��Could you come over?” Ahijah wrinkled his nose, not liking how needy he sounded. “I’m in the house on the shore of Lake Titicaca.”

  “I will be there soon,” Samael promised.

  Ahijah opened his eyes and sighed. He felt ridiculous, and he wasn’t entirely sure that his sense of ennui was the only reason. He heard the rustle of wing feathers and smiled then as Samael walked into the living room, his expression worried.

  “Ahijah,” Samael said, and Ahijah jumped up and moved to him, hugging him tight. As Samael hugged him back, Ahijah let out a quiet sigh and tried not to cling.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said.

  “I would always come, should you need me,” Samael said. He pulled back a little and rested his hands on Ahijah’s shoulders, his gaze locking with Ahijah’s. His eyes were bright blue in the darkness of his face, and Ahijah felt himself falling into those blue depths.

  “Ahi?” Samael’s voice cut through Ahijah’s thoughts. “What troubles you?”

  “Hm? Oh! Nothing. I’m fine.” Ahijah took a deep breath and moved on. “I feel as if I should be doing more to help find out what’s going on with this Transom group.”

  Samael blinked, and then he smiled. “Then perhaps you would assist me? I am having some troubles, I admit. People are….” the smile faltered, “they are fearful of me. Perhaps if you came with me to speak to them, they would be less so?”

  “I’d be happy to,” Ahijah said. He felt for Samael right then, felt a pang of empathy so strong that it almost left him breathless. Living forever—or as near to—and being hated and feared was nothing new to Ahijah, and he’d learned to cope with it by disguising who and what he was. But Samael didn’t have that luxury, for his title of Archangel of Death was something that sentients feared, no matter who or what they were. Ahijah wondered if Samael sometimes felt like the loneliest being in existence, and that too, resonated with him. Because, Ahijah thought, he was also lonely, and he was so tired of it that it was an ache.

 

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