Cancer's Curse (The Zodiac Book 4)

by Sating, Paul

  "What are you doing here?" I said, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one saw her, and locked the door.

  She was as beautiful as ever. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, making her icy blue eyes pop even more. She lifted her hand and languidly waved it back and forth. The murky sliminess of the listening ward crawled over my skin. I shivered.

  "We need to talk."

  I drifted to my bed and sat, unlacing my boots. I had not heard from the Council in nearly a year and now a Founder was sitting in my trailer. How? How was she here? Had they assigned our trailer to be a sanctuary? Thoughts buzzed my already clouded mind. The boots gave me a delay to anticipate what was coming.

  "Okay. What's up?" I finally asked.

  Seraph sat back, crossing a leg over her knee, and wrapping her hands around the bent leg. "You can't seem to stay out of trouble, Mr. Sunstone," she said with a smile devoid of joy.

  I sighed. What now? The Overworld had been my home during my forced military service. I had not seen Hell in so long I was starting to forget the names of streets in Old Towne. What problem could she have with me when I hadn't been around to cause any? What? Did Gemini show up again or Taurus come back from the dead? After they imprisoned me, I swore I would never have anything to do with the Council again, and I meant it. This bordered on harassment.

  "How?" I said.

  "Even here, you can't stay out of things you shouldn't be getting into," she said with the calmness of someone explaining the ingredients to a recipe.

  I stopped unlacing my boots to look at her. "Seraph, I have no idea what you're talking about and I'm exhausted. We've been out in the field again today. I haven't eaten in over ten hours. I just want to get clean and dive headfirst into anything that looks halfway edible. Can we speed this up? Obviously it has to be something important if it brought one of you here. So what is it?"

  Seraph's face was stoic, unbothered by my aggressive attitude. As smooth and as beautiful as ever, it was still the face of the Council, the entity I despised more than anything in Hell and Overworld combined. Then she shot forward, planting both feet on the floor with a slapping sound and jabbing her elbows onto her knees. Her lips curled back, baring her teeth. "This entire situation between Chax and Cancer Nijal!"

  Her tone rocked me almost as much as the names she dropped. I wasn't ready for her fiery temperament. And I sure as heaven wasn't ready for her to name-drop two minor demons. Stunned, I noticed Cancer received the full-name formal treatment, but the Founder only referred to Chax by his first. An intimate connection?

  I pushed back against the wall, realizing the truth. "No."

  One corner of Seraph's mouth curled up as I understood. "You're going to stop meddling in this business between Cancer's family and mine."

  You've got to be kidding me. Trying to cover my panic with false bravery, I pushed the discussion back. "Who is he, specifically, to you? A little brother? Nephew? A cousin?"

  "Be very careful, Sunstone." Her eyes flashed. I suddenly felt like a fairy being pinned to a board while an adolescent tyrant burned my wings with a magnifying glass. "He's my nephew. My family. My sister's son."

  "You have family in Hell?"

  "Plenty of family," she said through clenched teeth. "You don't think I would suffer that realm on my own, do you? Everyone needs family. Even a Founder. I love my family, Mr. Sunstone. Dearly. I would do anything for them. Anything."

  Apparently, I had inadvertently stepped in an enormous pile of chimera dung.

  "Up until Gemini, I expected you to be the one member of the Council with integrity. Maybe that was my first mistake and I should have realized none of you are above contamination." It would have been best to stop there, but I didn't. I was on a roll. "Why doesn't it shock me then that not a single member of Lucifer's Council has an ounce of integrity? It can't be any wonder why the Underworld is as dysfunctional as it is. Hard to paint us as the victims of angelic totalitarianism when our leaders suffocate us, isn't it? I imagine you're fine with the fact that Chax, your family, launches attacks against Cancer, an innocent who is trying to help mortals and the Balance? If that's the case, you, the Council, Lucifer Himself can kiss my ass."

  Seraph sat back, lifting that leg and wrapping her hands around her knee again. I didn't trust the smile she wore. "I'm pleased with the way this conversation unfolded. It is unfortunate for you, as you will discover, but you've given me what I needed."

  With that, Seraph waved her hand, and the listening ward disappeared. The rift roared to life like she was trying to make a statement with its ferocity, and she stepped through, back to Hell and out of my life for now.

  Shockingly, I was no longer in a hurry to end this deployment.

  16 - Baghdad

  The official seal of Lucifer, an upside down triangular shape encasing two diagonal lines that curled above a small v-shape in the center, burned blue with the light of the Hellfire on the cover of my demonic notebook just hours after Seraph threatened me. I was getting a letter from home.

  I cracked open the notebook to find the letter was not from Dialphio or my parents—not that I expected to hear from them since it had been so long since they had written.

  Sitting up in my bed, I pulled the notebook onto my bent legs and watched as the words were seared into the magic paper. My brain refused to process what I was seeing.

  "What is it, Zeke? Is everything okay?" Bilba asked, his voice a dull sound in the background of my world.

  "I … I don't know."

  I held the notepad in shaking hands. I heard Bilba scramble off his bed and walk the few feet to me, but his movements were muffled, like he shuffled in another dimension.

  My eyes scanned the length of the letter, jumping back to the top once I'd finished reading it. My throat no longer worked.

  Gently, Bilba took it from my hand, and I was too deep in shock to stop him.

  "This can't be right," he said, holding it up. "What are they talking about?"

  "Seraph," I said through a constructive throat, my gaze locked on my combat boots on the floor.

  "This is a joke. It's ... it's not possible. This just doesn't happen." His voice rose to a higher pitch, his cadence galloping. "They're charging you with blasphemy, Zeke. Blasphemy. No one has been charged with that in … I can't even remember. The last case I remember hearing about was well before our lifetime. Heavens, even our parents' lifetimes. It just doesn't happen. What is this based on?"

  Blasphemy was the crime of crimes in the Underworld; a demon couldn't commit a greater offense. To blaspheme Lucifer was unthinkable. Demons knew that, we were taught from our earliest years, even before we started our schooling. Showing or acting with contempt or lack of reverence toward Him was so taboo, the fact I was being charged for doing exactly that when I had done nothing of the sort made my throat swell with bile. The Council? Sure, I would blaspheme the heaven out of them; but Lucifer? No way.

  I turned to my best friend and fought to keep tears from showing. "She was here, in our trailer, when we came back from patrol. You and Ralrek were at chow, and I came here to shower. She was waiting for me and we got in an argument."

  "An argument? About what?"

  The name tasted like bitter lemon oil. "Chax."

  A few seconds passed. Bilba set the notebook down on my nightstand. "What about him? Was she upset that he is lost or something? What does that have to do with you, or blasphemy, for Lucifer's sake?"

  I raked a hand through my hair. A sour laugh escaped my lips. "We never got around to where he is. She didn't look worried about that either."

  Bilba grabbed my shoulders. "I need you to focus so I can help. Why would Seraph come to the Overworld, especially to see you in the middle of a war? What in the world do you have to do with Chax?"

  My vision cleared, my friend pronounced in the foreground. "Remember when we confronted him?"

  "Of course, Zeke." Concern flickered across Bilba's face.

  "He told us to not mess with
him. That he has a powerful family. Well, guess who that family is?"

  Bilba rocked back, swallowing hard. "You've got to be kidding me?"

  "I wish I was."

  Now Bilba ran a hand through his, much shorter—because I think he was digging the standard Army haircut—hair. "Oh, this is bad. Bad."

  "She told me to stay out of it. To stay away from all this business between Cancer and him."

  "The curse?"

  I nodded.

  "But she's … she's a Council member, Zeke. She's a Founder. If Chax is her … what is he to her?"

  "Nephew," I answered, fingering Lucifer's seal on my closed notebook. I could not look at that blessed notification any longer.

  "Well, at least he's not her son or something," Bilba said with a quiver I think he meant as a laugh. "That would be worse. Who knew she had family in the Underworld. Regardless, this is bad. Blasphemy is no joke. What did you two argue about? Specifics, Zeke. Be honest, even if you said something stupid. You know your temper can get the best of your tongue sometimes. Tell me everything."

  So I did, recalling my earlier conversation with Seraph, leaving nothing out. When I was finished, Bilba sat back against the wall, still on my bed, looking across the tiny shared space.

  "There's nothing blasphemous in that," he said, finally breaking his reflection. "Are you sure that is everything?"

  "Yes. I'm not lying, Bilba. Why would I?"

  He was already shaking his head. "I don't think you are. But they're still charging you, so either you're forgetting something, which I don't think you are," he said in a rushed tone, looking at me, "or …"

  "Or what?"

  He swallowed and looked around. "Or they're fabricating, making up details of the conversation. Embellishing."

  "Lying."

  "Yes." The word came out as a whisper.

  "But why would they do that?" I slammed the notebook on my nightstand.

  Bilba winced. "I don't know, Zeke. I really don't. Maybe because you, we, maybe because we are involved in this curse thing and Cancer was telling the truth. Maybe this thing goes way back between their families. Think about it; it would make sense that, if it were a real feud, the tension would be such that one flick of the string could cause the entire thing to explode. The hatred must run so deep, generation after generation. Hate piling on hate."

  "And we stepped in the middle of it."

  "Right in the middle," he said.

  "Lucifer, she did us no favors," I said, leaning back against the wall.

  "Careful with using His name like that," Bilba said.

  Usually, a comment like that, at a time like this, would have been sent with a flavor of good-natured ribbing. But there was no hint of that in my friend's comment, because this time was like no other. Charged with blasphemy. What in the heaven was I going to do?

  Bilba sniffed sharply. "Well, this isn't going to just happen. We will fight this. They can't just do this to you."

  His determination did nothing for me. I'm sure he meant it to be encouraging, but I couldn't find encouragement in the hottest Hellfire at the moment. "There's nothing we can do," I replied quietly.

  "The heaven there isn't!" Bilba raised his arms above his head and waved them back and forth. "Hello? Zeke? It's your friend, me. Trying to help you see your options. We'll fight this."

  I shook my head. "You can't fight the Council when they trump up charges like this. It'll only get worse for me and my mother, and I can't do that to her again. She doesn't deserve to be run through the wringers by the Council if I make trouble for them. My father? I'm sure he'd help them however they asked."

  "Stir up things? You're defending yourself against false charges, aren't you?"

  The conversation with one of Lucifer's Council members flashed through my mind, and I started spiraling down the funnel of despair again. Hours ago, I was focused on helping Cancer; now, in the span of a single chat with an irate Founder, I felt like I was sitting in the prison cell with Ralrek again, waiting for Hell's rulers to pluck me apart, bit by bit. It was as if no time at all had passed.

  A fog of exhaustion shrouded my mind, my spirt, my will to care. I was never going to get any peace.

  "I never thought of you as a quitter," Bilba said, walking back to his bed and dropping on it. "Never you. Between the three of us, you were the one who would fight until the bitter end. Where is the demon who stood in the face of Beelzebub and told him no? The incubus who wouldn't attack a demon who wanted to remain in the Overworld to live out the last years of his life? Ralrek and I sure as heaven didn't have the courage to do that. You did. And you were punished. When I was deluded into thinking I could change my mother and stayed in the Eighth Circle, you and Ralrek got blamed for bringing an angel to the Underworld, even though it was the Council who put you on the task. You've been shamed and humiliated, treated unfairly from the beginning with the Council. Heavens, Zeke, you're the Segregate! Demons still think of you like that even though you have Creed." His voice softened. "You've been fighting all your life, so why won't you now?"

  Bilba had a point. He always had good points when he wasn't acting like a doofus. But it was easy to get riled up about being treated unfairly when it wasn't you who was being abused. He was asking me to stick my head in the guillotine.

  "Because I can't," I countered weakly. "There's nothing I can do. They'll destroy me, make me look like a fool, more foolish than they've already made me appear. And this time, my family will suffer. You weren't there, bud. You didn't hear what Apopis said he would do to my parents if I didn't admit to bringing Gemini and Cassie into Hell. What do you think they'll do to my family, to everyone I care about, if I'm screwing with Seraph's family? That's too much of a threat to them. Too personal. They'll make those I care about pay. I can't fight one against five, especially when those five are the demons who control everything."

  He wagged a finger. "Ah, but you won't have to."

  My eyes slid over to him. Bilba was grinning like he'd just snuck an entire baked chicken into Hell for me to enjoy. "What do you mean?"

  He shrugged, both his hands out to the sides. "One of the first laws Lucifer ever instituted was that all demons are allowed to defend themselves against charges by calling witnesses. His infinite wisdom or whatever; He knew that ethics could become an issue at some point, so He established a law of self-defense by allowing character witnesses, one for each Council member. We have five Council members, so you get five witnesses to testify for you."

  I shook my head. "There aren't five demons who would do that."

  Bilba made a fist and then pulled up each of his fingers as he named who would stand up for me. "Me. Ralrek. Dialphio. Cancer."

  "That's four."

  He gripped that last finger, his pinky, allocated to Cancer, and wiggled it. "Four strong witnesses. Especially Cancer. The Council would expect us to say anything for you, even to lie. But they won't expect her. She could turn the case in your favor."

  "I don't know."

  "Stop quitting on me, Zeke," Bilba said firmly. "If you don't stand up to them, who will?"

  "I didn't realize I was Hell's counterbalance to the Council."

  "Don't be like that, not right now. This is serious."

  "I am being serious. Did you ever stop to think I might be sick and tired of fighting them, of always having to defend myself against their ridiculous claims, their suspicions? It's exhausting. Absolutely exhausting."

  "Then let us do this for you. Let us help. You deserve that much."

  I pressed both hands against my face and pressed, rubbed, gripped skin.

  Bilba stood. "Why are you thinking about this? Why are you torturing yourself? I'll tell you what, I'll talk to Ralrek, and you write a note to Cancer. You said you gave her the notebook, right?"

  "Yeah," I said as I tucked my hands behind my head—still gripping my hair, just unseen by my friend—and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the swarm of hopelessness descending on me. I didn't watch Bilba l
eave, I only heard the click of the lock as the door swung shut.

  He was a really good friend. Everything we'd been through, we had grown and become better demons for it. Without him by my side, I would have been lost long ago. As it stood, I now was.

  Could I really lie around and pout, sulking like an impling while Bilba was out working for me? The Council was moving forward either way, whether I participated or not. I could care about it happening, or ignore it, hoping it went away, knowing it never would. If Bilba believed in my case, then shouldn't I as well?

  Plus, deep in my soul, the last thing I wanted to do was to look in the mirror one day and recognize that I willfully allowed the Council to push me around. A blasphemy charge was the be-all, end-all. A demon could only take so much before being pushed too far. I allowed the Council to push me around after Beelzebub killed Aries because I couldn't distinguish my head from the Hellfire blue dome. I let them do it again after Gemini's trial and before his attempted execution. I allowed them to make me their fall-incubus. Was I okay standing by while they pushed me around because of Seraph's need to protect a relative and a family secret she wanted to keep under wraps because feuding should be beneath a Founder's station? Blasphemy was grave. A line had been drawn.

  Slapping the bed, I swung my feet off to the cool floor, snatched the notebook from my nightstand and scribbled out a note to Cancer.

  I wished I could do this in person instead of depending on her to read my jumbled mess of thoughts without a filter. But I wrote it anyway, because it was my only option to save myself.

  Done, I rolled over to face the wall and waited for Bilba to return with news of Ralrek's decision.

  I tossed and turned and was asleep before I heard from him or Cancer.

  ***

  I don't know if I can, Zeke. I'm sorry.

  That was the only reply from Cancer.

  I pushed the notebook away.

  "You're going to write her back, right?"

  I stared at the ceiling, tired from a fitful nap.