Pedestrians filled the street here, and I realized one was staring directly at me, smiling crookedly as if someone was using him as a puppet. My boots abruptly began to tingle.
I hadn’t even noticed that I’d gripped the Seal of Solomon at some point in our walk. Cain hissed at me. “Whatever you’re doing, I can feel it,” he growled in a low hiss. “And if I can feel it, someone else probably can, too!” he warned.
I released the Seal rapidly, but it was already too late. The creepy guy smiling at me suddenly touched the shoulder of a woman beside him. He then promptly shuddered, lifting his head and frowning at me as if wondering why I was glaring at him.
The woman looked up at me sharply, cocked her head, and began to laugh as she strode right for me. “Hello, Callie. I’ve missed you,” she said. My boots were tingling as they faced her, but no longer when they faced the previous guy—who now looked creeped out by the woman he had just touched.
Cain snarled at the woman, shoving me back as he jumped between us.
I wanted to crawl out of my own skin because the toes of my boots pinched when facing a Demon. But they had never tingled before.
“Samael,” I breathed, more for Cain’s benefit. The Demon I had freed from the Seal of Solomon had found me. But how? Was it from me fondling the Seal or something else? I’d touched the Seal a few times today with no consequence, so what had changed?
The woman continued smiling at me, head cocked oddly as she touched another pedestrian. He instantly reached out, walking through a crowd, and touched someone else.
Who touched someone else.
Then someone else.
Like a line of dominos, everyone began touching a fellow commuter in a dizzying blur so that I couldn’t tell where Samael had ended up. I turned from person to person, searching for that grim smile. But everyone seemed confused at their subconscious decision to touch a random stranger, and then confused further to see that everyone around them wore equally confused expressions.
To find yourself in a crowd of alarmed, confused strangers was definitely unsettling. And the crowd was growing as more and more people stopped to see what the traffic was all about.
A small child suddenly lunged out from her mother’s side and tackled Cain, hurling him into the glass window of a nail salon behind us with an obviously possessed force. Then she ran up to a pair of old men staring incredulously at the broken window and the sounds of the man cursing and growling within. The child tapped the man on the leg, looking for all the world like she was trying to get his attention.
Then she collapsed in a heap, and the old man looked directly at me, winked, and touched his buddy. You get the picture. A whole lot of bad touching was going on.
The child’s mother shrieked in horror, scrambling to her daughter and snatching her up. She ran headlong into another growing swarm of startled onlookers, begging for their help.
The crowd stared from the sobbing child, to me, and then to the broken window, like I’d had something to do with all of it. If I had been feigning confusion like everyone else, I might have fooled them, but as it was…they were suddenly a concerned mob, and they looked on the verge of making a terrible mistake. Attacking me.
All because Samael was a prick, possessing their bodies just to toy with me.
Cain chose that moment to jump back through the window, glass shards falling from his shoulders, his hands and cheeks cut up from the attack. He locked eyes with me. “RUN!”
I did, hating myself for it.
I lowered my shoulder and barreled through the crowd, disgusted at the thought of any of them possibly being Samael in disguise, but I paid close attention to my boots, begging not to feel them tingle—ready to change course at even the slightest sensation. I glanced back over my shoulder to see Cain fighting a crowd of angry men, shouting at them to back down before they hurt themselves. Random outbursts of laughter sprang up from the crowd as Samael hopped from body to body, using them like sock puppets.
I flung a hand back, using the crowd around me to conceal my gesture, and flung magic backwards. A blast of air pummeled everyone to the ground, including Cain, but I knew he would be fastest back to his feet. “Stop fighting and run, Jackass!” I shouted. I saw him jump to his feet and run in the opposite direction from me, fleeing a crowd of angry men climbing to their feet to pursue him.
I heard sirens as a cop car skidded to a stop, two armed officers jumping out to demand what the hell was going on with the brawling pedestrians. One used a bullhorn to order everyone to stand down.
I ignored them, darting through the crowd, flinching at every touch, my heart racing as I studied faces for any smiles. My boots didn’t tingle or pinch, but I knew Samael could simply start another chain of touches and end up ahead of me in an instant.
I slowed my pace as I reached the back of the growing crowd, brushing shoulders stiffly against anyone in my way, but doing my best to not draw attention since the police were obviously searching for someone suspicious and I didn’t want the crowd turning on me. I finally broke free and settled on a brisk pace, heading towards the church as fast as I could while appearing casual.
“You can’t run from me, Callie,” a voice said from behind me. I spun, hands out to fight, but the little old lady staring at me from the edge of the crowd didn’t move. Just grinned at me with a mouth of missing teeth. The toes of my boots throbbed as they faced her, and I walked backwards as fast as possible, keeping an eye on her hands. “We are family, and blood calls to blood,” she said. “But don’t worry. I don’t want you dead. I want to thank you. I also wanted to wish you good luck on your little game. Because if you ever want to face me in the future, you desperately need to win. And I so desperately want to face off against you in the future…” The woman rubbed her gnarled hands together excitedly, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. “Just think of what good you could do with all that power. The power of the Doors at your disposal. I would offer you my assistance, but you’ve already got an associate of mine wrapped around your finger. Maybe I’ll relay some advice to him now and then…” She cackled loudly, and then turned away, dipping back into the crowd.
I shivered, continuing to walk backwards, keeping an eye on any potential chain of pedestrians who would allow her touch to get ahead of me. It made me look like a crazy person, flinching around people as I practically ran backwards down the street.
I bumped into someone and spun with a squawk of terror, ready to rip their head off.
Cain gripped me by the shoulders, having exited from an alley directly beside me. “Easy, Callie. It’s just me.”
I wrapped him up in a hug—but only after verifying my boots didn’t pinch when facing him—and let out a sob.
He draped an arm around my shoulder protectively and half-jogged me towards Abundant Angel Catholic Church down the block. His other hand rested on the hilt of the dagger at his hip. “How dangerous could a daytime walk be,” he muttered sarcastically.
I nodded woodenly, still shell-shocked from Samael’s appearance. “I didn’t know he could do that,” I said. “Why didn’t he attack?”
Cain grunted, wiping some of the blood from his cheeks and wrist, and a few more shards of glass from his collar. He just had scrapes, and they were already healing. Figured. Immortals.
“He said he wanted to help me,” I told Cain. “That he could get to me through this.” I held up my thumb, showing him the ring of shadows.
Cain stared down at it uneasily. “Sometimes Demons lie…”
“And sometimes they don’t…” I replied.
And I couldn’t take the damned thing off. I hoped the church was strong enough to ward off Samael, or that Fabrizio would have some answers on this damned quest. Some answer as to how we should proceed.
Because the Sons of Solomon wanted me dead.
Last Breath wanted everyone dead.
And Michael and Samael seemed pretty invested in me winning.
Chapter 23
The basement o
f Abundant Angel Catholic Church was much fancier than the actual church above. The basement was also a big fat secret. A hidden keypad camouflaged in the ancient stone walls opened the seemingly decrepit locked hallway door that led downstairs. And my code still worked.
Bad, bad Vatican Shepherds.
As I made my way down the familiar stairs with Cain trailing behind, I couldn’t ignore the sense of nostalgia that rolled over me. I’d trained here for more than a decade—learning how to use my magic as well as how to defend myself in the physical arena. From any and all flavors of monster.
Since, you know, pretty much everyone was assumed to be an enemy of the Church. Right or wrong, that was just the way it was. At least initially.
Yet here I was, walking down the steps of a secret military branch of the Vatican in Kansas City with mankind’s first murderer. And I was no longer a dues-paying member of the Shepherds. For all intents and purposes, we did not belong in such hallowed halls.
Which was a strange feeling after Roland had spent so long training me here. And now neither of us were officially welcome in the very place we had called home for so long.
We left the stairs to enter a large training room with ridiculously tall ceilings, pillars, targets, platforms, mats, and a suspicious grate covering a large section of the floor.
It was the agility room where I had practiced evasion and maneuvering in my environment. Like a giant clock, the room shifted, adjusted, and moved in ways that forced the practitioner to basically become a ninja or suffer permanent injury. The pillars would rotate, drop, rise, shoot out spikes, and all sorts of other fun surprises. A hacker friend, Othello, had even shown me how to program it to my favorite music playlist—which took a lot of time, but was ultimately worth it. Like a form of meditation.
I’d trained here so often that the room of deathtraps was a pleasant memory. Even when flames shot out where you didn’t expect them, or the ground disappeared beneath your feet earlier than you anticipated. Living a few moments off pure reaction and instinct was an adrenaline rush the likes of which I had rarely experienced in the typical aspects of a regular day. But free-running in here had been restricted until I had completed many years of training—when Roland had been confident enough I wouldn’t kill myself trying.
We walked on towards the weapons room to find Fabrizio Donati waiting for us.
Fabrizio Donati was a bald, squat man who looked like someone you wanted to have a beer with. He held the title of First Shepherd—the boss of the other Shepherds roaming the world, but also the Shepherd in charge of Vatican City herself. He reported only to the Conclave, a group of seven old, prejudiced assholes who I wasn’t too particularly fond of. Despite his other responsibilities as First Shepherd, Fabrizio had been sent to Kansas City to train Arthur, the newest Shepherd initiate since Roland and I were out of the picture.
Arthur was a homeless man I had once run into in an alley and, fearing he had seen me use magic, I had taken him to a nearby café—the same one Cain and I had visited a few hours ago. That moment had changed both of our lives. He had correctly guessed my true name.
To clarify that, I had always gone by Callie since it had been written on the card in my crib when I was found at the steps of Abundant Angel Catholic Church.
It was only years later that I found the crib stowed away in my adoptive parents’ garage and, in a fit of teenage angst, I had destroyed the crib…
And found something very peculiar inside the wreckage. I couldn’t definitively say it meant anything, but it had been one hell of a coincidence. Needing a bit of magic in my life, I had secretly adopted it—whether true or not. Like believing your real father was David Hasselhoff.
For example.
Although many had tried, no one had ever guessed correctly. Until Arthur, the humble, homeless man. Our friendship had blossomed after that, and he’d told me his own half-forgotten, half-remembered story. And then made me swear not to tell a soul. The jerk.
And it was a doozy. He wouldn’t even let me ask him about it in private.
So, we each held the other’s most private secret with nothing but our word.
I had been so impressed with Arthur that I had encouraged him to visit Father David at Abundant Angel for a meal, shower, and change of clothes. He had cleaned up so well that he seemed to transform into an adult Hilfiger model in the prime of his life and even weaseled Father David into giving him a job at the church. He’d been here ever since, working in any capacity the church allowed. And now he was Fabrizio’s new student, training to become a Shepherd.
Coupled with what I knew about him…it was like watching an episode of the Twilight Zone.
But Arthur wasn’t here at the moment, and Fabrizio looked ready to chew rocks.
Under his glare, I very seriously reconsidered my plan of asking for his help. Instead, I pointed a thumb at Cain. “Hey, Fabrizio. This is Cain. He killed a guy once.”
“I know very well who he is,” Fabrizio said, dipping his chin in a casual greeting.
Cain nodded back and then rubbed his knuckles on his chest as if polishing his nails. “Always happy to meet a fan,” he said absently.
Fabrizio’s face darkened a few shades right before my eyes.
Before things went sideways, I cleared my throat. “What’s new, Meatball?”
He settled his rage fully on me this time, but his voice was monotone as he spoke. “Roland called. Forgot to mention a few things.”
I didn’t like the crazy look in his eyes. “Oh?”
He nodded. “Might have said something about the fires of Hell raining down upon me if anything happened to you. If you so much as earned a scratch while walking here.” He glanced at my fingers. “You didn’t happen to get scratched, did you?”
I shook my head silently.
“That’s good. That’s really good. You were supposed to be here an hour ago, by the way. That was another thing Roland warned me about. I think the consequence he gave me for that one was that he would personally turn me into a vampire and then kill me, just to guarantee that my soul went straight to Hell.” He paused meaningfully. “Something along those lines.”
Cain let out a single-note whistle that sounded like a bomb dropping from the skies.
I was shifting from foot to foot, both in shame and anger. It wasn’t like it was my fault, but it also wasn’t Fabrizio’s fault that Roland had set such parameters. “I’m—”
“There’s more,” Fabrizio interrupted coldly. “In case I didn’t fully comprehend the situation, Roland went on to tell me that he would next drown Kansas City in rivers of blood so deep and turbulent that the entire Conclave and every Shepherd would be needed to stem the tide of his wrath.” Fabrizio was clenching his fists at his side as he paused. “All of that from a man I call a friend. Because of you.”
Cain was silently mouthing the threats as if trying to commit them to memory for later use.
I lowered my eyes, facing Fabrizio. “He only told me he had called you…” I whispered. “I’m sorry you had to hear that from your friend, and I’m sorry for being late.” I clamped my mouth shut, knowing that excuses needed to wait a minute, or twenty. Until he calmed down. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry at Roland or…heartbroken.
Fabrizio let out a quivering breath, closing his eyes for a few moments. “I’m just glad that you’re okay, Callie. I’ll admit, I’ve known Roland for a very long time, and I’ve never heard him sound like that. Say things like that. He also doesn’t make empty threats. When you didn’t show up on time, I very seriously considered calling the entire Conclave here. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew Roland was asleep and that your chances of survival between his church and mine were all but a guarantee.” He paused, watching me intently. “Then I heard from Arthur, who was walking the streets in search of you. He caught the tail-end of your walk. And the aftermath with the police.”
I grimaced. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that what happened on our walk was totall
y unrelated to Roland’s threats?” I asked hesitantly.
Fabrizio—calm, solid, and a man of many laughs—looked like I had just punched him in the forehead. “Samael was in addition to what Roland was concerned about?” he asked in disbelief.
I nodded.
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Girlie?” he rasped, reverting to his nickname for me. I let out a breath of relief to hear him say it.
In answer, I held out the picture of the message at the fountain and told him the story.
Fabrizio walked over to the bar and uncorked a more than half-empty bottle of wine as he listened. He poured himself a liberal glass, not even asking if we wanted one. After I’d finished speaking, he stared down at the picture, reading it over and over again.
Cain eventually cleared his throat. “Roland mentioned you knew about some big D’s…”
Fabrizio frowned at the bizarre statement, looking up. Cain was grinning from ear-to-ear, but it didn’t look like the Shepherd had caught the joke.
“The Doors are all capitalized,” I clarified, shooting Cain a dark look. He tapped his wrist and then shrugged, reminding me that time was of the essence. He had a point.
Fabrizio was already staring closer at the picture, his face paling. Bingo. Then he looked up at me. And when I say looked, I mean looked. “I need to show you something. Only you.”
Cain instantly jumped to his feet, all traces of humor gone as he began shouting at Fabrizio, his fists clenched at his sides. “Oh, no you don’t! I’m going with her, even if I have to tag along after her like a lost puppy. I will not lose another—”
He cut off abruptly and we both turned to face him, startled by both his explosive outburst and the fact that he had so urgently cut himself off. He still had his mouth open, and his face was beet-red. I’d given him hell before, but I’d never seen him embarrass himself so greatly.
Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2 Page 41