by E. A. Copen
Josiah grunted and flicked his cigarette out the open window. “An epic battle to make him look heroic. He’s convinced it’ll bring God back. It won’t.”
I nodded. “You’re close, but not quite. What Michael wants most of all is for God to return. The God mantle is missing. Without it, there’s no clear ruler in Heaven. The only reason things haven’t devolved into civil war there is there’s nothing to win, and Michael has been ruthless. His own people fear him.”
“Unless you know where to find God, that information doesn’t help us,” Stefan said.
I leaned on the folding tray in front of him. “Do you think a being as powerful as God can just disappear?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Unlikely.” Josiah pushed away from the wall. “The three of us can barely take a piss without someone tracking our every move. Sure, part of that is because I share blood with the enemy, but the angels can track you two in their sleep. The only reason they can’t track me is that I’ve got protection against them. God couldn’t just walk the earth as a spiritual being, either. He’d melt the faces right off anyone He came near, and everyone’d know exactly where the bastard was.”
Stefan frowned. “You’re telling me God needs a body?”
Josiah crossed his arms. “At the very least. If He wanted to keep from being found, He’d need marks like these.” Josiah touched the tattoos on his chest. “Not many can do this sort of work. It’s specialized.”
“You want to find God’s tattoo artist?” Stefan shrugged. “There are thousands of them in this area alone, and God could’ve gone anywhere. How the hell are you going to sift through that many? And say He’s using some other method to hide himself that’s unknown to you. What then? He is God.”
“Despite what you might believe, he’s not all-powerful. Just close to it.” Josiah sat on the sofa’s arm and stared at the wall. “I don’t know if there’s another way, but I know someone who will. Milly would know.”
“As interesting as that avenue sounds, it’ll have to wait until after we’ve gone to the talks,” I said and slid back on my heels. “You two need to get ready. I don’t plan on killing Remiel, just making him look weak. He’s failed time and again to kill us or even win a single battle, while my armies have liberated the Summer Kingdom in Faerie. I’ve got a track record of success. Granted, I haven’t won as many battles as Beelzebub or Leviathan, but I’ve won one more than Remiel. Everyone fears him because they remember who he used to be. Today, I prove he’s not that Remiel any longer. He’s weak. My goal is to convince the other two that we can crush him if we work together. Then we can go back to squabbling amongst each other.” I gestured to the bathroom door. “Now, you two get ready. I’d like to get there on time.”
While they showered, I went over a few talking points with Thoganoth. He wasn’t nearly as good a personal assistant as Malphas, but Malphas had to stay behind to command my army. I would’ve preferred to have him with me since he was a force in his own right, but the little cat eating demon before me would have to do. At least he could follow orders well enough.
“You know,” said Josiah, emerging from the bedroom while tugging on a shirt, “you could just tell us where the meeting is. I walk around the outside, drop a few magical charges, we wait for the right moment, and then I blow them all to the kingdom come they want so badly.”
I sighed and picked up my briefcase. “Because then I look like a coward.”
“You look smart,” he countered. “And they look dead.”
“These are the highest-ranking demons in Hell we’re talking about, Josiah. A little explosion is just foreplay for them. It won’t kill them, although it would be quite an entrance.” I tapped my chin and then dismissed the thought. “But then the city would get upset, and I actually like Los Angeles. I’d hate to have to avoid it for the rest of time.”
He looked like he was about to be sick. “You like this awful place? Why?”
“The same reason honeybees like brightly colored flowers. I have needs. This city provides them in excess. It’s full of beautiful people, most of them complete assholes the world will never miss. You know. Just my type.” I went to the door. “Now get your bag just in case we need it. Thoganoth, would you mind getting the car?”
He jumped up and went out the door, his phone already to his ear. Thoganoth might not have been as skilled in diplomacy as Malphas, nor as formidable, but he did know how to follow orders and was eager to please. That alone had value.
“What car?” Josiah grabbed his bag. “You were running around in a taxi yesterday.”
I smiled. “Do you think I have minions for no reason? Thoganoth might not be much to look at, but he’s useful, especially when I need to be seen. He secured one for me last night while you two were having your little lover’s spat.”
He shifted the weight of his bag. “You heard that, did you?”
“Impossible not to. I was trying to sleep in the next room. I’m just glad the two of you got it worked out of your system. I need you focused.”
“Just don’t forget. I’m here to save Maggie, not to be part of your scheme. If I get the chance, I’m going for it.”
“I hope you do,” I said in earnest. “Just don’t mess things up for me along the way.”
He almost had with Alice. We were lucky things had turned out the way they did. Her dying was unfortunate, and it cost me the vampires of New York as allies, but it couldn’t be helped. They hadn’t all died, of course. Just the vampires the three sisters had made. Logan had been a decent liar, convincing Josiah that killing the sisters would kill all vampires everywhere. Josiah didn’t fall for stories easily. He was just too distracted by the possibility of losing Stefan to give the story his usual due diligence.
The three of us left the apartment and went down to the street. It wasn’t full of people like the sidewalks in New York, but there were people around, moving tiredly from place to place with coffee in hand.
Josiah had put on blue work pants with a wrinkled button-up. It was more than I’d hoped for. Sometimes, I wished he’d picked up Niko’s sense of fashion. Somehow, he always had something nice to wear. Today it was a nice charcoal jacket over a polo shirt. He could’ve walked onto any studio lot and been right at home among the wealthiest people in the country. His ability to fit in anywhere at any time was truly uncanny.
We waited at the street for a few minutes before a black stretched limo pulled around the corner and rolled to a stop in front of us. Thoganoth hopped out and opened the door for us to enter.
Josiah frowned. “This is your car?”
“Well, a full motorcade seemed a bit pretentious. Shall we?” I ducked into the back.
It wasn’t the nicest limousine I’d ever been in, but it would do for the short ride out of Los Angeles to our meeting. There was enough space to seat nine people comfortably, so the three of us had plenty of space to stretch out. I took the front-facing seat in the middle and immediately got out my phone, reviewing what I knew about the enemy.
Beelzebub, also known as Lord of the Flies, had always been a formidable enemy of my father’s. Father’s strategy for dealing with his enemies was to keep them close and placated. Thus, Beelzebub had nearly everything he asked for, including a large contingent of his own loyal forces. Not larger than Father’s, but enough that Beelzebub felt safe from elimination. He’d been given a palace in Hell, presiding over the fields of torment. He’d long ago embraced the moniker of Lord of the Flies with a fiery passion, delighting in all things having to do with death, decomposition, and the disgusting. Possession was his forte, and he had a large information network in the homeless and downtrodden all over the world.
For all his power, Beelzebub had one weakness: his pride. He believed he was better than his enemies and that he deserved all he’d been given. His lust for power would drive him to make mistakes, especially since he wasn’t a particularly shrewd negotiator.
Leviathan, however, would be problematic. Father h
ad given him dominion over the seas of destruction in Hell, where souls drowned eternally in fluids of many kinds. Where Beelzebub was brutal, Leviathan was wise. Father never gave Leviathan an army, but he won the loyalty of many through small favors over time. He understood the value of loyalty.
His weakness was much more straightforward. While he had always had his castle by the sea, and served as one of the most powerful Fallen in Hell, his domain placed him far from everyone else. Even Father barely spoke to him because of the vast distance between them. All around Leviathan were soldier demons, warriors, and the harsh, unforgiving landscape of torture and death. Yet, Leviathan had a secret. He admired the forms of humans, even perhaps envied their short little lives and the enjoyment of life. Father wrote that he had forbidden Leviathan from knowing the touch of another, a weakness I was custom built to exploit.
And then there was Remiel, whom I had yet to fight directly. Josiah had always engaged him on my behalf, and those meetings were always violent. He was smart, powerful, and dangerous. There would be no tricking him into working with me, and his only weakness seemed to be his need for a strong body to hold him. He seemed to think Josiah was the ideal host, but he wouldn’t be the only one. Maggie might also be able to hold him, a fact I was certain hadn’t escaped either Josiah’s or Remiel’s minds.
The strike of a lighter made me look up as Josiah prepared to light his cigarette.
I lowered my phone. “Do you mind? I don’t want to smell like an ashtray when we arrive.”
He halted just short of touching the flame to the end of it and sighed before removing the cigarette from between his lips. “Fine, then. Just don’t sit there and ignore us. You’re dragging us into it. Might as well talk strategy.”
I crossed my arms and eyed the two men. “Fair enough. I expect the talks to last for the better part of the day since they’ve arranged a catered lunch. No one present will want to come to any deals. For them, this is simply a show, testing the waters. An opportunity for them to meet face to face in a neutral place without hiding behind their armies. These meetings keep their armies from getting war-weary, sort of a false hope that things can come to a peaceful end and they can stop killing each other.”
“I would’ve thought demons would enjoy wholesale slaughter,” Stefan said.
“Not of their own kind. Everyone involved knows all this infighting only leaves Hell weaker in the end, and that Remiel will swoop in and fight whatever is left. It would be better for everyone if Leviathan and Beelzebub can come to terms and join forces, but that won’t happen during the first of these talks. Here, they’ll probe for weaknesses and define their negotiating positions.”
“It’s a big bloody theater,” Josiah mumbled. “Everybody pretends talking can solve it, but they’re really just waving their dicks around.”
I smiled. “Well, I don’t have a dick. That’s why I brought you two. Here I have Remiel’s son, and an Oracle, as well as a solid victory under my belt. None of them have any real human allies. Beelzebub has humans on his side, but no one of power. I need to show them I’m on par with them, and I’m serious about entering the fight.”
“It won’t all be dicks and pricks though,” I added, crossing one leg over the other. “Given the chance, I fully intend to lure Leviathan away and seduce him. Beelzebub is a power-hungry idiot. I’ll need you two to keep him busy while I do that.”
“You want Leviathan to side with you and not Beelzebub,” Stefan said.
“Precisely. The moment that happens, Beelzebub will be outnumbered. He’ll have a choice: join our fight and accept whatever power his grateful queen graciously offers, or be crushed by our superior might.”
Stefan nodded. “Brutal. I like it.”
“And what about Remiel?” Josiah asked. “He won’t be so easily swayed.”
I leveled my gaze at Josiah. “Remiel is also not invited to this summit.”
He crossed his arms. “Meaning you’re trying to force an appearance by bringing me with you. I’m bait. And what happens if he decides to level the playing field and wipe all of you out in one go? You want someone who enjoys the wholesale slaughter of demons? He’s your man.”
“And he’s your man,” I added. “You wanted to find your daughter. So find her. Ask him yourself.”
Josiah narrowed his eyes. He suspected me, and for good reason. There was more to my plan than to force Remiel to show up or look like a coward. No matter how this played out, it would go in my favor. Either he didn’t come, and I made the argument that the powerful Fallen they all feared was a coward afraid of his own son, or he did come, and Josiah kicked his ass. I didn’t think we could kill him, of course, but we could make a strong show of strength against him. Once Leviathan and Beelzebub saw what Josiah was capable of in person, they’d sign on. Both of them.
Thoganoth drove us into the hills around LA, where a hacienda-style mansion waited to receive us. He opened the door and I stepped out into the pleasant sunlight, the sky blue and clear despite earlier storms. I took that to be a good sign of things to come.
A demon, one I didn’t recognize, stood by the door and opened it at our approach, bowing. The foyer was charming, decorated with oil paintings of pastoral Mexico, all cacti, mules, and grim mustached men with carts.
Another demon in a suit approached to meet us from one of the side rooms, someone I actually knew from before. “Your Majesty, welcome!”
“Victxen! So good to see you! What are you doing here?” I took his hands in mine as if we were old friends. In reality, I had no idea what terms we were on. Victxen had been one of my father’s personal servants. A close friend, or so it seemed.
“Working. A servant’s work is never done.” He smiled and squeezed my fingers before letting go and stepping back.
“And your master? Whom do you serve?”
His smile faded. “I serve the crown, Majesty. I keep Lucifer’s castle. I owe no one but the next Devil my loyalty, and none has been so bold as to ask.”
“Staying neutral through the fight of the century, eh?” Josiah said. “That takes some bollocks.”
Victxen frowned. “The fighting is senseless. I support the talks, and I hope things can come to an amicable end so we can all face the greater threat before us.”
“You mean, Remiel,” Stefan said.
Victxen immediately hushed him. “We don’t speak his name here, lest we draw his attention. I must say that bringing his son is a bold move. I worry it may undo the peace we’re working so hard to build before the first brick has even been laid. Are you certain the Nephilim should remain?”
I put a hand on Josiah’s arm. “He’s here to protect us. I won’t send him away. Josiah is the only one who can match Remiel’s strength.”
The servant gave us an uneasy look. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“What’re you going on about?” Josiah started to take a step forward.
I held him back.
Victxen’s smile returned but seemed more strained. “I should show you to the meeting room. You’re the last to arrive. The others are already waiting.”
“Lead the way then, my friend.” I gestured forward.
Victxen led us to the west wing of the mansion through a low arch and into a large ballroom where long tables had been placed. The tables against the wall held silver trays piled high with fruits, pastries, and steaming metal containers. Three huge reservoirs of coffee and tea had been brought in, placed at the end of the tables with some disposable cups.
At the table in the center of the room sat three men and a woman. I recognized Beelzebub with his red eyes, thick face, and broad chest, and Leviathan, the attractive dark-haired man across from the other demon. The woman sat at the end of the table, her back to us. All I could see of her was the back of her head and upper body as she leaned forward in the chair.
The third man’s presence was enough of a surprise that I halted just inside the door. He flashed a fanged smile. “Long time, no see,” said Spyder.
&
nbsp; The woman at the end of the table pushed out her chair and stood, then stepped away from it and turned to face us. Her gray eyes sparkled and her cheeks dimpled in a smile as she looked straight at Josiah. “Hello, Father.”
Chapter Fifteen
Josiah
She’d lost twenty pounds since I last saw her, maybe more. Her beautiful face had grown thin and her arms more delicate, but it was her.
“Maggie,” I choked out. My heart pounded so hard in my chest that it hurt to take a breath. She’d called me “Father.” She knew. Christ, she knew! How?
“I go by my full name now,” she said, her fingers resting on the arm of the chair she’d abandoned. “Magdalene. It’s a pretty name. Was it your idea?”
“I…” I didn’t know what to say. I thought I was prepared to see her, but now that she was right here in front of me, confronting me, I didn’t know what to say.
She took her hand away from the chair and walked closer. “Of course, it was. My mother passed before I was born, didn’t she? You know, I didn’t always care for my name. There have been some…associations with it over the years. People think Mary Magdalene was a prostitute. No matter how many times you point out there’s no Biblical evidence for it, they still want to believe. But then again, I am what I am. It suits me now, no matter what other people say. Don’t you think?”
I finally recovered my wits and swallowed the desert in my mouth. “You called me. I thought you were in trouble. Maggie, what’re you doing here?”
The brilliant smile melted off her face. “Someone had to represent grandpa’s interests, and you weren’t going to do it. So here I am.” It was only as she spread her arms wide that the little bump in her stomach became visible, pressed against the silky white fabric of her dress.
Seeing it filled me with some emotion I couldn’t name. Anger. Fear. Sorrow. No matter what happened, this wouldn’t end well for her. “Maggie, I—”