Claire shook hers. “From you?”
“A little dim, this one?” He flicked his finger at Claire.
“No. Just inexperienced.” Tamiel met her gaze. “He doesn’t want Frankie as a breeder. He’s already done that. She’s his daughter.”
“Oh.” Claire’s breath caught in her throat as the truth of that statement sank in. Looking again at the man who sat before her, she spotted Frankie’s features. The texture of the hair, the high forehead, the shape of the jaw. But what did it mean?
“What do you want with her?” Tamiel voiced Claire’s question.
“Nothing. Just to be her father,” Yakum said softly. “To guide her through this tough time while she figures out exactly who she is. Like I do with all my children.” He slumped in his chair, the fire in his eyes dimming with his words. “Not human. Not angel. She’s confused; she believes that she has no control over her own future. So she’s acting out.”
This was the man who, according to Tamiel, wanted to create a demonic army?
He waved a hand in the direction of the hearth. “Look.” Blue flames shot up, and, like a movie, images of Frankie as a younger girl rolled in the fire. Claire recognized the room. Frankie stood in this very chamber. Her face hard and tense, her hands clenched tight. There was no sound, but Claire could read Frankie’s lips. She was saying, “It’s not fair,” over and over. Yakum stood by her side. His posture was relaxed, and his hands were open and accepting. Frankie backed away from him as she railed at the world.
“See,” Yakum said, looking at Claire, “she’s not content with being stronger and faster than the average human. She wants what you have, godmother. Access to the magic.”
In the fire, the view of Frankie shifted to a close-up. She pounded a fist in the air while tears rolled down her cheeks. Claire couldn’t read everything she was saying, but there was definitely a bunch of “fucking” and “fuck” and one or two “shitheads.”
“So you expect us to believe that this is all just about a teenager throwing a tantrum.” Tamiel slashed her sword into the fire, sending a ripple through the images. “What about you sending the demons after her?”
“They were just programmed to get her and bring her home. Thank you very much for stopping that.” Sarcasm dripped in his tone. “I’ve personally tried a bunch of times to fetch her. She won’t come with me. And now, thanks to you, I’m out of options.”
Tamiel had the grace to look slightly contrite.
Yakum lowered his hand; the flame in the hearth dipped and the images faded away. “What did you think it was about? That someone down here had gone round the bend?”
Tamiel didn’t answer.
“You and I are on the same side.”
Tamiel shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I don’t know what lies our brethren are telling you up there. I mean when they actually bother to talk to each other. But the only thing that makes me a fallen angel is that I’ve chosen my own path. Sure, I’ve done a few things that maybe aren’t in the canon—”
“Like raping Abal?”
Yakum sighed deeply. “They tell the story all wrong. I assume you’ve heard their version?”
Tamiel nodded curtly and didn’t mention she had been one of the ones spreading it. Claire’s gaze darted back to Yakum. Much to her surprise, she had completely relaxed into this exchange. She couldn’t wait to see what was going to happen next.
“Then I guess the truth would surprise you. Abal was one of the greatest loves of my life. She begged me to take her away. Her uncle and her cousin were maybe two nights away from defiling her. Them, not me. One day, she saw me helping a man in the marketplace with a little spell that doubled the potency of his herbs and spices. She implored me to help her.”
“For God’s sake, you should have said no.”
The flame in Yakum’s eyes flared. “I couldn’t. She was in terrible trouble. You would have done the same.”
“Not if I wasn’t assigned to her. And I certainly wouldn’t have gone any further.”
“My only sin was that I was lonely.”
He raised his hand, and the blaze jumped in the hearth. Images of Yakum with a beautiful, raven-haired woman, dancing in another room from another time, filled the flames.
“It would be easy to manipulate the fire.”
“True. But I’m not. Did you ever think to question the choir when they spoke of my guilt?”
Again, Tamiel said nothing.
Claire’s heart went out to her. The conversation, well, really the implications, were well outside her wheelhouse, but clearly Tamiel had as many prejudices about Yakum as Claire had had about Tamiel in the beginning. It was the same everywhere. Believing the worst about someone else allowed you to believe the best about yourself.
“Tamiel,” Yakum said softly, “are you really telling me that you’ve never considered dallying with your charges?”
A deeper flush swept across Tamiel’s cheeks.
“Ah, maybe even right now?”
What did that mean? Claire tilted her head. Did Tamiel have a thing for Frankie, or someone else?
“Yakum,” Tamiel said, her voice deep with emotion, “leave it.”
“Okay, okay. But there has to be balance in the world, and sometimes to achieve that, you need to walk your own path. Take my advice.”
“That will be the day.”
“Fine. Then just help me with Francesca. You’ll realize I’m right eventually.”
“Speaking of help, how did she get onto the client list at the FGC?” Claire asked. Despite everything, she was beginning to believe him.
He turned to her. “The FGC didn’t generate her case. But I think you already know that.”
Claire nodded.
“When I was explaining the greater scope of the world we live in, I told her about the FGC. It took her almost two years, and even now I don’t really know how she did it. Kids these days can hack into any system. Basically, she created an open file and sent it to your boss.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Tamiel asked.
“Would you have believed me?” To Claire he said, “You really should get a much more secure system.”
“Why on earth would she want to be a client of the FGC?” Claire asked, spinning the conversation in the only direction that mattered right now.
“To get one of those.” He pointed to Claire’s hand.
“A wand?”
“She wants a way to access her connection to the magic. She feels it is her birthright, and maybe it is, but I kept telling her she can’t steal it. She has to earn it with the right choices.”
Claire tilted her head. Could he be right? Frankie had tried to grab Carothann in the alley. Her touch had caused its filter to break. In her room, hadn’t she admitted she was hunting for it after the battle? Hadn’t she also commented on Juliette’s wand, Baltine, almost as soon as they met?
How could she have missed all the signs? Was she so pushed into one interpretation of the world around her that she had forgotten other possibilities could exist? She glanced down at Carothann. Frankie’s band still ran around the bottom of the slender branch, but now it was more black than maroon.
“You know what I say is true, don’t you, godmother?”
Claire pursed her lips and nodded.
“Seriously?” Tamiel asked.
Claire reached out and pulled her across the room. Taut muscle ran beneath her clothes. Tamiel’s arm felt solid and comforting in her hand.
She showed her wand and tapped the black band. “Carothann is changing. Becoming something more. It knows somehow. Look, I’m not endorsing what he does. But he seems—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—reasonable. We’ve only known Frankie for a day. I don’t know. She could be playing us.”
“So could he.”
“True.” Claire glanced up. Tamiel’s gaze was completely focused on her. In any other situation, it would be intoxicating. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Always.” Tamiel touched her arm.
“Before meeting you in the alley, my life played out in black and white. The GA was our enemy, and only I was on the side of right. Now we’re working together, and Yakum…” She paused while she searched for the right words. “Do you think maybe that you’re with him where I was with you a few days ago?”
“You mean prejudiced.”
“I mean inexperienced…” Claire raised her eyebrows “…but wise enough to know when you could be wrong.” She gave Tamiel a moment to ponder her words. “He absolutely could be lying about Frankie, but he did get one thing right. Nothing is all good or bad, and we can’t buy into this black-or-white understanding of the world. We need to make our own choices of how to move forward and not let some antiquated system like the FGC or even the GA tell us what to do.”
The fire danced in Tamiel’s irises as she seemed to consider what Claire had said. Claire could see the conflict raging in their depths. Whoever had said the eyes were the windows to the soul must have been looking at an angel when they said it.
“You think we should give him a chance to at least prove himself wrong?” Tamiel asked.
“At least.”
“She makes a good point, if I do say so myself.” Yakum rose from the throne.
Tamiel swung back to him. “That was a private conversation.”
“Yes, but it was about me,” he said as if that were enough explanation. “So, Tamiel, are you in with the godmother and me, or are you out?”
With the decision upon her now, Tamiel froze. Claire bit her bottom lip. She didn’t have an exigency plan if—
“I’m in.” She met Claire’s gaze.
Her shoulders dropped, and relief whipped through her as she stared back.
Yakum walked over to the far wall and tapped a red stone twice with his knuckle. A hidden door swung open, revealing a cache of weapons both human and magical. He reached in past several swords to pull out a thin iron ring about the size of a small bowl. He tossed it up in the air and caught it. “Excellent. Let’s go get my daughter.”
Yakum wasn’t the only one desperate for a meeting. As soon as the three of them slipped back into the museum, Claire contacted Juliette. Carothann bristled at the request, but Claire pushed the thought hard at the wand until she heard Juliette’s voice reach out from its tip.
“Son of a banshee, Claire. Get back here. This girl is… I really need you to run point on this one.”
“Sure, sure, Juliette. I’ll take over, but let’s meet to discuss it. Not at the office. How about…in Frankie’s alley? I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Just come back.” The wand vibrated with Juliette’s irritation. “Seriously, that girl needs a lot of attention, and she keeps bumping into me all the time as if she’s looking for something. It’s weird. I just don’t—”
“I’ll explain when I see you, but believe me, you don’t want to have this meeting at the office. Oh, and keep your wand away from her.”
A boy with freckles rushed over and tried to touch Carothann’s shining tip. “Oh cool. Is that some kind of new app? How does it work?”
“Who is that?” Juliette asked.
“Nobody.” Claire jerked the wand away from the boy. “I’ll explain everything when I see you.”
Yakum spun the child toward the exit. “Yes. It’s a new app, and the wand part is in the gift store. They’re selling fast. Chop-chop.”
“Oh my God. Thanks. I totally want one!” The boy darted off.
“See, you need me.” Yakum tilted his head in mild challenge.
“You are not our friend,” Tamiel said.
“But I’m not your enemy either.” He slid a hand under each of their elbows and steered them into the next room. “We better get moving before that human comes back.”
The big purple letters over the door spelled Movie & TV Props, and the room itself was jammed with famous objects pulled right off current studios and sets. There, right in the middle, was a big blue telephone booth. Police Public Call Box was written on top. Yakum pulled open the door and herded them in while no one was looking.
“It really is bigger on the inside,” he said with a grin on his face.
“Sorry?” Claire glanced at Tamiel. She was glaring at Yakum, her normally lovely features screwed up in annoyance.
“Human TV. You really should make some time. It’s quite good.” He moved over to a futuristic console in the center of the box. “I can make you a list.”
“It would be faster if we just all met there,” Tamiel said.
“But not as much fun.” Yakum yanked down a lever, and the noise of a car key scraping across a piano wire filled the air. “Because this prop is real! Well, a real teleporter. Not a time machine. That would be ridiculous.”
“Oh for goodness’s sake. This isn’t a game.” Tamiel pulled the door open to reveal the alley from downtown. “You first, Claire.”
The alley was different than Claire remembered. At this time of day, it was completely empty. The other thing that had changed was Frankie’s art. In the twenty-four hours since they had been here, someone had graffitied the graffiti. Angry black slashes tarnished the blue and gold swirls. What had sung out as a message of encouragement now rang with bleakness and despair. Claire shivered. Was it an omen?
She sent the coordinates to Juliette’s wand, Carothann jumping into action this time almost before she had sent the thought. She liked this new version of her wand more and more.
Only moments later, a shimmer in the middle of the alley announced the arrival of Juliette and Frankie. Juliette came as her true self. The change, however, was in Frankie. Gone was the timid girl. Frankie stood tall and strong, and if Claire wasn’t mistaken, even a hint of fire danced in her eyes.
As soon as Juliette saw the trio, the color drained from her face. “What the—? Claire, are you crazy?” She squeezed her eyes shut and at the same time flung a hand out to cover Frankie’s.
The girl stepped easily out of Juliette’s reach and leveled a harsh look at Yakum. “Hello, Father.” Gone, too, was her teenage whine. She spit the last word out as if it were poison.
“Hello, Francesca,” Yakum said. “You’ve been busy, I see.”
“With no help from you.”
“You didn’t want the kind of help I was willing to give and the kind you actually needed.”
Juliette opened her eyes but used her hands as blinders. She stared only at Claire. “Will someone please tell me what is going on here?”
“I think we’ve all been played by our client,” Claire said. “Frankie, do you want to answer Juliette’s question?”
“I sure do. It’s so not fair. I got powers, and I can’t use them. You got wands, and you’re idiots—”
“Excuse me?” Juliette shifted her glare to Frankie.
Frankie let out an exasperated sigh. “Man, you’re just like my stupid stepmom. You don’t notice anything unless it’s about yourself. Can’t you all see? I just want a chance to become what I was always meant to be.”
“Which is?” Tamiel asked.
“I don’t know. But he’s trying to control everything I do. I just want a little freedom.”
“Please, daughter,” Yakum said quietly. “Come back with me and we’ll try to work this out together.”
Claire glanced at Yakum. He stood relaxed, shoulders down, his face a mask of patience. Her heart went out to him. Fallen angel or not, he clearly loved his daughter, and Claire knew how hard it was to mother, or at least godmother, a teenager who thought she knew best.
“What do you say?” Yakum raised his hands. “Can we try t
his again?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d rather stay with that asshat…” She waved a finger at Juliette “…than go with you.”
Juliette rolled back on her heels, striking a defensive posture. She shook Baltine at Frankie like a schoolmarm fussing at her students.
“Besides, I don’t need any of you anymore.” Frankie twirled quickly, showing some of that inherited angel speed, and plucked Juliette’s wand right out of her fingers.
Juliette’s mouth dropped open to form a perfectly round O. Her body froze as her gaze darted around, clearly trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“No!” Claire cried and jumped for the wand.
At the same time, Frankie backpedaled down the alley, her prize clutched in her hand.
Baltine bucked in Frankie’s fingers; golden shards of magic shot out of its tip in protest and cut across the alley. One sliced into Claire’s face, and warm blood trickled down her cheek.
“Drop it, Frankie,” Claire shouted. “You can’t handle it.”
“Yes, I can.” Her face, though, had already reddened with the effort. Frankie clutched the wand with both hands, trying to ride out the convulsions, which were multiplying by the moment. “It will accept my thoughts. I just have to break the filter in this one too.” Her brows furrowed as she glared at the wand.
“Don’t!” Juliette edged away from the group. “The filter is what keeps us safe.”
“You knew?” Claire whipped around to face her boss.
“Of course. We can’t let you loose in the field with unlimited power.”
There it was: the FGC philosophy laid out neatly in the juxtaposition between we and you in that sentence. No matter how this played out, Claire could never accept that betrayal.
Right now, though, Frankie was in trouble. A crack resonated through the alley, just like when Frankie had grabbed Carothann two days earlier. The filter, Claire guessed, had snapped in Baltine.
“I did it!” she cried. “Harder than your wand when—”
WOOSH. Energy zoomed into the alley and rushed into the wand. Frankie’s whole body contorted as though she was in a seizure. Golden bursts of magic exploded from the top of her head and from the tips of her feet. Magic in full force was coursing through her. Claire knew from recent experience that she and Baltine could only hang on for so long.
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