by Chloe Garner
“Have you eaten?” she asked.
“Sam hasn’t,” Samantha said. “And he needs to sleep.”
“You are not just dropping me off here,” Sam said, leaning down to speak directly into her ear. “I can’t find you.”
“She needs to not be alone. And you need sleep. And I need to keep moving. If you need to find me, find Jason. I’ll keep him with me.”
“I can’t see him when you’re that close.”
“He carries a cellphone,” she answered. Abby returned to the couch with a tray set for tea. She pulled her hair up behind her head and pulled it straight, trying to contain its characteristic flamboyance.
“We haven’t been introduced,” she said to Carson.
“I’m sorry, Abby. This is Carson,” Samantha said.
“Yes, I know that,” Abby said. “What I meant is he’s never met me.”
“Right. Carson, this is Abby. She’s Carter’s psychic and about the oldest friend I have.”
“What a terrible thing to say,” Abby said. “Can I get you anything to eat?”
“Um. I think we’re supposed to go, or something.”
Abby cocked her head to the side and smiled at him.
“She does like you,” she said. “Yes, of course. Sam, please let me know what’s going on. I’ve never been blind like this.”
“Yes, you have,” Samantha said. “You’ve just forgotten.”
She motioned again for Sam to stay and she left with Jason and Carson.
They took the elevator down to the main floor and Jason and Samantha turned left out of the front door where Carson turned right.
“We aren’t driving?” he asked. Samantha gave him a pouty smile.
“Please, please try not to smell like fresh meat.”
“Where to?” Jason asked.
“The market. I need to be seen, and I’m going to get some shopping done while we’re at it.”
“Not Nuri’s?”
“You’re all excited that you can get in now, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, he can’t, and there’s no way I’m leaving him standing around outside by himself.”
“You did it to me,” Jason said.
“Did not,” Samantha said. “I left you in the car.”
“We left the car back there,” Carson said.
“Call Kelly and tell him we’re here. He can come when he’s ready.”
“He can find us?”
“Same way he did after the demon gutted him,” Samantha said.
“You gave him something?” Jason asked. She nodded. “Isn’t that risky?”
“He’s an angel. He doesn’t sleep. He isn’t going to lose it. I’m really not worried.”
She took them to the subway and on to the market, keeping Carson close. The sellers didn’t know Jason as well as they did Sam, but they knew enough about him to respect him. She spent three hours making her way along the entire length of the market, wandering side streets and buying far more than she needed to - on credit against Carter, no less - to be sure she’d made her point. After that, they went to get lunch at a shop where the staff knew Samantha. They cleared a table and brought her samples of the new foods they’d added to the menu since the last time she’d been here. Once they’d dispensed with the necessary social formalities associated with Samantha arriving and the owner was back behind the counter again, whistling as he cooked, Samantha turned to face Jason and Carson.
“You got a good night’s sleep?” she asked Carson. He nodded. Jason glowered.
“Snored for three states.”
“All right. I need you to not be here for a few minutes,” she said. Carson started to stand, and she held up a dry herb preparation. “Tastes like oregano.”
Carson looked at Jason, who shrugged.
“Dunno.”
Carson took the tangle of dried plants and chewed it, swallowing it with a gulp of water. Samantha looked at Jason, who stared as Carson froze.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes,” Samantha said, wanting to keep moving. “I need you to turn off your need to sleep.”
He looked back at her.
“How?”
“You’re sleepy.”
“Not really.”
She sighed.
“No. Look at me. You’re sleepy.”
His face sagged a little as the shelter he had built for himself against the weariness collapsed. He blinked hard.
“Dammit Sam, why?”
“Go turn it off.”
She waited, watching his face as he tried to focus. Carter had given her a near-lethal dose of tranquilizer before this lesson, but she needed Jason to be conscious in the next few days, whether or not he could manage the effort. If he failed, she’d send him back to Abby’s and just take Carson with her, as dubious a plan as that was.
Jason’s eyes rolled up into his head as he found the switch and pushed it the wrong way. She waited. He nearly collapsed onto the table, then shot bolt-upright in his seat.
“You got it?” she asked. He blinked fast.
“Yeah.”
She nodded.
“The first time off of it sucks. You’re going to crash for days. The longer you wait to do it, the worse it gets. And you also have to remember that a lot of us who are more powerful than you can switch it off, too. Carter did that to me, once, if you remember.”
“I do.”
She’d slept for three days straight and woken up furious.
“So be careful. Not that that helps much, right now. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and no time to sleep. I probably should have asked Sam to drive, but…”
“He wouldn’t have made it in one pass, and I wouldn’t have let him try,” Jason said. She nodded. That and she’d wanted to sleep on him. Not that she would have said it.
“So we keep Sam or Carson with Abby at all times. It will keep her from getting stir crazy and getting herself into trouble. The other one is with us.”
“Why?” Jason asked.
“Threes, for one,” Samantha said. “Threes are stronger, and Carson is a mystery to them. If he can keep from gaping too much, he could be an asset. Mostly because I want everyone where I can see them if they aren’t in one of the safe houses.”
“Abby’s apartment, Carter’s apartment, and your apartment?”
“Yup. I’ll want to move Abby a couple of times, but I’ll do that personally.”
“You really think she’s in danger?”
“She’s in danger every second she breathes,” Samantha said. “She’s just my responsibility until I get Carter back.”
“And how do we do that?”
“Shake things. Break people.”
“I like how you think.”
Carson put his glass down onto the table.
“When does it start?”
Samantha smiled.
“We’re good. No one goes hungry, no one is thirsty without saying something. No one under-sleeps. This is important. We’re only as well-defended as we’re supplied.”
“That’s a defense?” Carson asked. “Eat, drink, and sleep?”
“Welcome to New York,” Jason said.
<><><>
Kelly arrived as they ate dessert. A deep, almost soupy chocolate cake turned up at the table without Samantha even asking for it, with three spoons, not forks. Jason felt bad, eating chocolate cake while Carter was being held prisoner by some demon somewhere, but Samantha was prosaic, so he went with it.
“Maryann has the house under surveillance,” the angel said as he sat down next to Samantha. “What is that?”
“Chocolate,” she answered. “I expected you hours ago.”
“I’m sorry. Did you need me?”
“No. I just didn’t think you’d wait.”
“The woman called Doris is a very interesting individual,” Kelly said. Carson snorted, putting his hand over his nose like he might have gotten chocolate up there. Kelly looked at him with a confused face, then went on. �
��She took me shopping for clothing. She told me that every Ranger should have more than two shirts, because Rangers get their shirts dirty too fast.” He looked at Samantha. “What is a Ranger?”
Samantha pointed her spoon across the table.
“Those two.”
“In combination or individually?”
“They don’t share shirts,” Samantha said. Jason closed his eyes.
“So you didn’t come when I called because you were shopping with Doris?”
“You know Mom loved that,” Carson said.
“You know I do,” Jason answered.
“Unfortunately, I had to leave it all behind, because I can’t glitch that much.”
“That’s too bad,” Jason said. Kelly looked at Samantha again.
“What is her real name?”
“Doris.”
He frowned.
“She doesn’t have a given name?”
“That is her given name,” Carson said.
“Given by whom?” Kelly asked.
“Her mom. It’s a family name,” Carson said.
“What did she know about Doris when she gave her the name?” Kelly asked.
“Asked the one who ended up with a girl’s name,” Jason said.
“Why are they distinct?”
“What?”
“Girls’ names and boys’ names?” he asked, sounding like he doubted Jason was telling the truth. It was a good sign.
“Are there girl angels called Kelly?” Jason asked.
“Of course.”
“And Mahkail?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“There is only one Mahkail.”
Jason sighed and Samantha laughed.
“You aren’t going to win this one,” she said. “Doris has no given name. They’re very uncommon, here.”
Kelly looked at Jason.
“You don’t have one?”
He glanced at Carson for dramatic effect, then back at Kelly.
“Jason.”
“Sam is Anu’dd Anadid’na,” Kelly said.
“I called him that,” Samantha said. “Hard to give a name when you don’t speak the language.”
There was a look of dawning realization that crossed Kelly’s face, and Samantha stood.
“We have work to do, still.”
The afternoon was a repeat of the morning, with a strange procession of demons and humans staring at them and whispering while Samantha pretended not to notice. Jason had grown used to hearing hellspeak during his captivity, but it was off-putting, hearing it in so many voices at once, in different dialects, some spoken by demons and some by humans. He found he could identify one from the other by speech. Carson walked with his head up, watching everything.
Jason had only known him as a Ranger, and Carson was one of the ones that everyone liked. He was funny and personable, good at what he did and reliable to be where he said he’d be. Jason had always known him as a brother. Here, though, where even Jason was an outsider compared to Samantha and - regrettably - Sam, Carson stuck out as a them. He was too clean, somehow, too earnest, even compared to Kelly, who hissed at the demons when they got too close. Jason could see how Samantha conspired to keep Carson within arm’s length as much as she could, and Jason tried to do the same, if only to help her focus on whatever other magic she was weaving. They drank at a bar, they shopped. They interrupted a game of dice in a back alley and she called a debt from one of the demons. Jason pulled Carson away from a woman who managed to speak hellspeak with an Irish lilt, who was flirting with the gangly blond. Samantha saw it and twisted her mouth in amusement, then nodded appreciation.
“She was pretty,” Carson said.
“A lot of them are,” Jason answered. “I can’t argue with you there.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Carson asked. Jason looked back at the woman, who smirked.
“Hell if I know,” Jason said. “But if she’s talking to you, there’s definitely something.”
“Hey,” Carson complained, and Jason grinned. They sat at barstools on either side of Samantha while she talked to a grizzled old bartender who wasn’t speaking hellspeak, but it wasn’t English, either. Occasionally Samantha would curse in hellspeak, and the man would laugh.
“Is this what you do with her all the time?” Carson asked. “No wonder you quit working. This is awesome.”
“I have no idea what she’s doing,” Jason said. “Normally there’s a lot more weapons involved.”
“That reminds me,” Samantha said. “You need to give him something that will kill demons.”
Carson pulled his gun out of his waist band.
“That’s what I normally use,” he said.
Samantha glanced at Jason.
“Does he know we’ve been surrounded by demons all day?” she asked. Carson frowned.
“Which ones?”
Samantha took the gun and popped the clip, sucking on her teeth before handing it back to him.
“Get him a real gun,” she said.
“You have a third one fitted for steel?” Jason asked.
“Did we run out? Okay. Remind me at Carter’s. He’s got an arsenal.”
“Where?” Jason asked. She gave him a catty smile.
“The walls are all a foot too thick,” she said. “You just have to know how to open them.”
“Fair enough.”
“Steel?” Carson asked.
“You don’t use lead on a demon,” Jason said. “Even a steel bullet isn’t going to slow them down much.”
“Always works for me,” Carson said.
“The woman who brought us the beers at the last place,” Jason said. Carson paused, remembering, then nodded.
“What about her?”
“Demon,” Jason said.
“Blood demon,” Samantha added.
“No. How did you know?” Carson asked.
“How did you know?” Samantha asked.
“She speaks like a demon,” Jason said.
“Well if that’s all…” Samantha said.
“You speak like a human,” Jason said. She stopped dead.
“What did you say?”
“You’ve got a great accent, and you get the pacing right, but… I mean, you’re better than most of them, but you sound human.”
Her mouth hung open for a moment before she remembered herself and turned to go back down the sidewalk.
“I’ve only known a few dozen people with an ear to tell demons from humans who are fluent,” she said.
“Fluent in what?” Carson asked.
“Hellspeak,” Kelly said, sounding as if, if he’d known to do it, he would have spat on the sidewalk. “Speech of the unclean.”
“You speak?” Carson asked. “The same languages demons do?”
“Yup,” Jason said.
“And Sam?”
“Nope.”
There was a pause.
“Where did you learn?”
“I was gone for a lot longer than you know about,” Jason said. Carson tilted his chin toward Jason, working through to his next question. “Leave it, dude.”
Carson shrugged.
“All right.” He paused. “The bartender. Was that hellspeak?”
“Turkish,” Samantha said.
“You speak Turkish?” Jason asked.
“I’ve been gone longer than you, Lover,” she answered.
“Then how come I haven’t heard everyone talking in some other language?” Carson asked.
“Because you were too busy looking like everyone’s next meal,” Jason said in hellspeak. He jerked his chin at Samantha. “Did we look like that, the first time we were here?”
“Like you can’t imagine,” she answered in hellspeak.
“That’s not just New Yorkers?” Carson asked. “I thought… maybe they were all sick or something. Clearing their throats and talking funny, or something.”
She took a stairway to a below-grade room full of card players. Heavily-built men watch
ed the games, pulling one man off of a table and dragging him toward the door as Samantha made her way to the back of the room.
“You going to turn me away?” she asked a slim blond woman, ignoring the screaming man as he complained he hadn’t been cheating.
“You think he’s going to be happy with you bringing an angel in here?” the woman asked.
“You think I care?” Samantha answered.
Black eyes turned to look at Jason.
“That isn’t your natural hair, is it?” he asked.
“At least leave me this one to play with,” the woman said.
“I don’t do demons,” he said. She pursed her lips playfully.
“Not even hot ones?” Carson asked. Jason wasn’t sure if Carson was serious or not, but it was a good line.
“The hot ones are the worst,” Jason said. “They think they get to be in charge.”
“Oh, I’m always in charge,” she murmured. She looked back at Samantha, twisting on her stool and recrossing her legs. Jason was pretty sure the skirt she was wearing settled a good four inches higher on her thigh on purpose. “We are hearing such tantalizing rumors,” she said.
“I’m not here to talk to underlings,” Samantha answered. Damn, she was cold. Jason fought hard not to smile. The blond clicked her tongue.
“Day was, I got to put you on a leash and keep you sitting on the floor next to me.”
“One of us doesn’t get stuck out here anymore,” Samantha answered. “He will want to see me. You know that.”
“He doesn’t like me letting in strangers,” the woman said, twisting her neck to look at Carson. “And no way the angel goes.”
“He’s my valet,” Samantha said as Kelly bristled. “You understand.”
“So that one’s true?” the woman asked, eyes searching Samantha’s body. “You wear it well.”
“I only stopped as a courtesy,” Samantha said. “Now. Either you open the door, or I will.”
The woman’s head slid sideways, and she recrossed her legs again. Jason looked away to be polite.
“Fine,” she said. “I hear someone’s going to put you in your place, soon, anyway.”
Samantha flicked her a smile as the door slid open.
“Someone’s always saying that,” she answered. They followed her into a back room lit with a handful of candles along the wall and the faint red light off of a selection of cigars around a central table. Something made Kelly hiss again, but Jason couldn’t see anything bug hulking shapes around a black surface. He heard cards shuffle.