by Kyoko M
“What makes you say that?”
“They’ve told me. To my face. Met a pretty nasty one in the hospital where Lauren was. Not to mention the bodyguard Gabriel assigned to us defected.”
I balled my hands into fists. It made sense, of course. Angels were loyal to a fault. It was built into us like our skeletal structures. But it still didn’t mean we should be petty, especially not since we knew human beings were flawed. “You get a name?”
“Calm down, alpha male,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can handle a little hostility.”
She touched the hickey on her neck, smirking at me. “Clearly.”
I cleared my throat, unsure if I wanted to laugh or stay irritated. “You say that, but you’ve been pushing hard to get these coins. You sure that’s not part of the reason why?”
Her smirk disappeared. She pulled her water-slick hair into a high ponytail, the way she always wore it. She parted just a little to fall against the right side of her face. “Does it matter?”
My mouth opened to answer, but then I heard the faint sound of music coming from the bedroom—soft, repetitive piano notes. “Spunky” by Eels. I knew that ringtone. I walked out of the bathroom and answered my phone.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she said, and her voice was normal. No panic attack this time.
I relaxed a bit. “What’s up?”
“So, um, you wouldn’t happen to be busy right now, would you?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the bathroom and then the rumpled comforter on the bed, suppressing a rather inappropriate joke. After all, she was only twelve. “A bit, but what is it?”
“I wanted to ask if you could maybe drop by sometime this week.”
I resisted the urge to sigh, not because I was annoyed, but because I knew the answer to that question. “Now’s not a good time. Still on mission and I will be for at least a week.”
“Okay. That’s alright. I just needed to hear a familiar voice, is all. Been a rough week.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, slumping down on the bed. “How was your Social Studies test?”
“Better than the math test. I got a B minus.”
“That’s great. See, you are doing better.”
She sucked her teeth. “Shut up, you sound like a parent.”
I rolled my eyes. “My fault. I just have this bad habit of trying to encourage people.”
“You really do. Well, I should get going. Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Of course. Might be busy, but I’ll call you back.”
“Promise?” The tough quality had bled out of her tone. She sounded small and lost once again. She still was in some ways.
I filled my voice with sincerity. “Promise. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hung up. I shifted in my seat to see Jordan watching me with a suspicious but quizzical expression.
“What was that?”
I shook my head, tossing the phone on the mattress. “Long story, trust me. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
She narrowed her eyes a bit. “You’re really not going to tell me what that Mr. Mom thing was about?”
“I’m serious. It’s a long story. We’ll worry about it later.”
Jordan took a deep breath, seeming to count to ten, and then began packing up her clothes. We were out of the room in ten minutes flat. Thank God for my low maintenance wife.
Avriel and Faust were already awake when we knocked on their door. They took one look at us, and both men adopted identical flustered looks. However, neither of them voiced their discomfort and merely asked what our next move would be.
I opened my mouth to answer when Jordan’s phone rang—the big band sound of “Hard Hearted Hannah” as sung by Ray Charles—and she answered, rolling her eyes when I gave her a weird look.
“Yeah? Uh-huh. Okay. We’ll be there in five.”
She hung up. “Myra’s got a new ride. She’s out front. Let’s go.”
We checked out of our rooms at the front desk and then walked out into the bitter cold. By now, the trucks had been through town. Piles of slushy grey snow lay on the sidewalks. The roads were slick with water and the remains of black ice. Cars honked at each other and glided past, splashing puddles on the occasional passerby.
“Morning, folks,” Myra said around a cigarette. She turned her eyes on me, letting her gaze drag up and down my body. I felt slightly violated and didn’t know why.
She paused. “You had sex, didn’t you?”
I remained silent. Jordan gave her a mortified look. “Myra. Seriously, not now.”
She grinned, shaking her head. “Y’all motherfuckers need Jesus.”
“Myra.”
“Sorry,” she chuckled. “You talk to Gabriel yet, angel food cake?”
“Michael,” I said, exasperated. “And no. I saw a couple missed calls, but he didn’t leave a voicemail. What did he tell you?”
“Afraid we’ve got some bad news,” she said, blowing another mouthful of smoke. “They found the other coins we were going after while we were stuck here. We’ve got seventeen and they have at least ten, by his calculation. The other three were hidden by our Seers, so he’s contacted them to make sure they’re safe.”
“Damn it,” I muttered, shoving my hair out of my eyes. “We can’t let them get their hands on the other three. We need to draw the archdemons out into the open. That’s the only way to end this.”
Faust frowned. “How will we do that? If we do anything obvious, won’t they suspect it’s a trap?”
Avriel jumped in. “Commander—”
“Michael,” I corrected.
“—Michael, what if we leaked information that we were on our way to Montpelier? They would most likely try to get the coins en route, and we could fight on our terms.”
“Not a bad plan,” I said. “But there’s still a chance they’ll send their henchmen to do it.”
“Not if I’m the bait,” Jordan said. “Belial said Lucifer told him to kill me personally. Moloch is probably the one who sent the hitmen. If Belial finds out I’m still alive, he’ll want to take me out himself, even if Moloch objects.”
I frowned at her. “That sounds extremely reckless.”
She sent me a frigid look. “I thought we discussed this already.”
I strangled the argument in my throat. “Fine. We’ll strategize on the way. If we’re going to lay a trap, then we need to split up. Jordan, you and Avriel take point. Myra, Faust, and I will hang back to cover you. I’ll make some calls to get the rumor mill churning.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n” Myra said, tossing her half-spent cig to the ground. “I’ll drop you guys off at the rental car place so you can get your own set of wheels.”
Myra, Avriel, and Faust headed for the truck. I caught Jordan by the sleeve, keeping my voice low. “You told me that you see your life only ending one way. I’m not going to let that happen. I swear it.”
She shook her head. “You’re such a romantic.”
“Shut up.” I tugged her towards me by the lapel of her duster, laying a firm kiss on her lips. Myra made catcalls, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.
Jordan licked her lips and sent me a heated stare. “Show off.”
I grinned. “Guilty as charged. Be safe.”
“Siempre,” she whispered, and then walked with me to the car. It wasn’t a perfect moment, but it was damn near close enough.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JORDAN
“So.”
“So.”
Silence. I gnawed my bottom lip, unsure of what to say.
“Can I ask you something?”
I sucked in a quick breath. “Yeah, what?”
“When you and Michael have sex…what do you call out? I mean, you can’t say, ‘oh God,’ that’d be like saying, ‘oh, your dad!”
I palmed my face. “Lauren, why is that the first thing on your mind after finding out angels, demons, ghosts, and God are real?”
“What?” she sa
id, sounding offended. “It’s a legitimate question.”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Oh, come on. You owe me, remember?”
I shifted in my seat, casting a sidelong glance at Avriel. The former angel seemed to pay me no mind as he drove, but the faint music of Vampire Weekend in the background wouldn’t drown out the conversation. “This is really not the time.”
“Answer that one and I promise not to ask any more bedroom questions for a year.”
Damn her. I lowered my voice and held the phone closer to my lips, unable to keep from sounding embarrassed. “It’s…usually something in Spanish. I’m distracted at the time so I can’t exactly recall what I say.”
She cackled. “Excellent.”
Why did both of my current girl friends have the habit of fixating on my sex life? Maybe I just unconsciously sent out some kind of signal. “Okay, next subject, please.”
“Fair enough. Where are you guys now?”
I glanced at the Garmin situated on the dashboard. “Maybe an hour from Montpelier.”
“And still no sign of the bad guys?”
“Oh, you know them. They like to make an entrance, especially Belial.”
She adopted a mischievous pitch yet again. “Speaking of which…I Googled that James Brennan alias of his. You didn’t tell me he looked like that.”
Again, I squirmed. “Like what?”
“Like if you threw Tom Hiddleston, Alexander Skarsgård, and 1990’s era Fabio into a blender made of sex.”
“Lauren. Seriously. The guy is a murderer. He murdered me, for Pete’s sake!”
“You’re such a drama queen. Some boys pull pigtails.”
“I am so going to hurt you the next time I see you.”
She laughed again. “Hey, I have to get some kind of payback after not hearing from you for a year. It’s not my fault you’re a bad boy magnet. Well, in your case, evil magnet. Man candy aside, though, I’m a bit glad you kept me out of the loop the way you did.”
Her tone had sobered. I cradled the phone to my ear. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’ve had some time to think about it. The stuff you told me about killing Andrew by accident…no wonder you have so many nightmares. I used to think it was just because of the stuff your aunt used to do to you, but that…I can’t imagine how you got through it.”
“Whiskey helped. You did too.”
She exhaled, her voice weak. “Shut up. You’re not allowed to be sweet. I’m still mad at you.”
My throat got real narrow. I pretended it was because of the faint cold air blowing from the vent. “I know.”
“So have you figured a way out of this mess yet?”
“Working on it,” I said, glancing out the window. Frost-covered trees blurred past—a whirl of white, green, and brown. Our car was alone on the road for now. Michael, Myra, and Faust hung back for recon and to make sure no one snuck up on us from behind. We weren’t coming into town on a main road for that exact reason: to avoid getting surrounded, and to avoid civilian casualties. I had enough innocent blood on my hands. I wouldn’t spill another drop if I could help it.
“How’s your arm?”
“Annoying,” she admitted. “I’m not ambidextrous. It makes cooking ten times harder. I’ve basically been eating bags of edamame in protest. Lily’s been living off of Spaghetti O’s, not that she’s complaining.”
I opened my mouth to apologize, but she cut me off. “And don’t say you’re sorry again or I’ll hang up. I’m a big girl. I’m dealing with it. What about you? Taking care of yourself?”
I snorted. “As much as I normally do.”
“Meaning not at all. I never understood how someone as smart as you has no common sense at all.”
“It’s a gift.”
“Clearly.”
“Have you been doing what I told you?”
“Yes, bossypants. Lily and I both have cross bracelets now and we don’t stay out alone after dark. I’ve got a vial of holy water in my purse next to the mace.”
“Good.”
“Well, guess I’d better leave you alone so you can go save the world. Call me tomorrow if you can.”
“I will.”
“Bye, Jor.”
“Bye, Lauren.”
She hung up. A link of the burden chained around my heart fell off. Maybe, just maybe, I could get the whole thing off me before I died. Today was the first time we talked for more than a terse minute or so. Her incontrovertible sense of humor kept things from getting too awkward. I loved her for it.
I shoved my phone into my pocket and sent Avriel an apologetic look. “Sorry. I promised her that I’d call.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy that she is in the process of forgiving you.”
I groaned. “How can you possibly be this nice? You tried to kill me a year ago, and I swear I like you more every time you open your mouth.”
His head ducked down a bit in shyness. He was trying not to smile wider. Ugh. Maybe it was the freckles that made him so hard to hate. “So what have you been doing since you were sentenced? How’d you end up on a SWAT team?”
He shrugged. “It seemed like a logical choice. After all, it is not that far from what the angels are charged with in general. I simply took on a different shield.”
“How does it compare to being a Scribe?”
His orange eyebrows wrinkled in thought. “It is…difficult to adjust to a life involving more than ink and papers. Humans are not like I expected. You are much more unpredictable. Defiant. Inconsistent.”
I grinned. “Yeah, we get that a lot. Just wait. It gets better. Or worse, depending on your perspective.”
He glanced at me, his brown eyes curious. “I am actually interested to know what your general opinion on humanity is. I know you had an…”
He licked his lips. “…unfortunate upbringing.”
I met his gaze, keeping my expression neutral. “Who told you that?”
“Before I found you last year, I gathered information about your life from various sources.”
That made me hesitate. “The angels talk about me?”
“Of course. You are the Commander’s wife. Angels may be superior life forms, but they are as susceptible to gossip as humans are.”
I crossed my arms and scooted down in my seat a bit. “Oh. Makes sense.”
“Forgive me,” he said in a gentle tone. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that you have been through so much and many of them wonder if you would ever go over to the demons’ side.”
I didn’t reply for a long while, listening to “The Kids Don’t Stand a Chance” play through on the stereo to the end. I uncrossed my arms, resting my hand on the nice black leather seat and running my fingers over it. “I’d like to say that I was never tempted. I’d like to say that I never thought about calling Belial and taking him up on his offer while I was husbandless. I’d like to say that I didn’t think about what my life would be like if I became Belial’s lieutenant and fought by his side.”
I swallowed. It hurt. “But I’d be lying. The longer you stay on earth, the more you’ll start to see what I’m talking about. When you’re a kid, adults tell you about right and wrong and good and evil. They never tell you what to do when something evil feels so good that it drives you mad. They never tell you what to do when something good feels like jabbing an ice pick into your eyeball. Being a Seer is supposed to mean knowing the difference between good and evil. It gets harder every year. I’ve seen honorable men and women do terrible things, and wretched men and women do noble things. I don’t know what to think of humanity. I probably never will.”
I glanced at him. “But that’s something you might be able to do. You’ve been given time, even if it is to serve out a sentence. Maybe you can find the answers I couldn’t.”
He faced the road, saying nothing at first. Then, he reached over and touched my hand.
“You are a good woman
, Jordan Amador.”
I smiled and knew it looked bitter. “You’ve only been with me a couple days. Let’s finish out the week before you say that.”
He didn’t reply immediately. He also didn’t move his hand from mine. It felt nice. “Do you know what the angels have come to call the human soul over the years?”
“No. What?”
“The holy dark. The equal blend of virtue and sin. You have made many mistakes in your life, but you have also protected those without a hero. That is the way it should be, if you ask my humble opinion.”
My smile melted into something less frigid. “You angels and your pretty talk.”
His fingers tightened over mine and then he slammed on the brakes. The car skidded on the slick road, nearly spinning out, but he grabbed the wheel with both hands and managed to straighten us. I’d braced myself with an arm against the glove compartment, my forehead sore because it smacked the dash. I rubbed my aching skull, panting out, “What the hell was that for?”
Then I looked out the windshield.
About twenty feet ahead was a felled tree. Its trunk had to be at least three feet in diameter. It blocked the entire street. However, it wasn’t the most pressing matter.
Belial stood to the right of the tree, dressed warmly in a grey trench coat, a blue-and-white scarf, and black slacks. He wore a fiendish grin as he held a still-chugging chainsaw. Well, that explained the tree.
He wasn’t alone. There were six people, four men and two women, standing in the middle of the road, their arms at their sides, staring blankly at our silver Mazda. Two other people—a blond man and woman dressed in black trench coats and jeans—stood on the opposite side of the road. Something was off about the people in the street. Something in their glazed eyes. That was when it hit me.
They had no feet.
They were ghosts.
I shook off my momentary shock and rolled down the window, glaring daggers at the archdemon. “You’re early. We aren’t scheduled to kick your ass for another hour or two.”
Belial shook his perfectly groomed head, lowering the chainsaw so I could hear him. “I have a schedule to keep, my pet. Why don’t you get out of that little car and face your death like the warrior woman I believe you to be?”