He looked in my direction and then stopped. The smile briefly faded from his face and he tilted his head to the side, seemingly as if he was looking for something. A moment later, he smiled again, even more broadly and winked.
Could he see me?
Seemed that question would have to wait, because he turned his attention back to the girls. “My name is Nimuel Galang. I’m the babaylan here in this area.”
“Thank you for seeing us,” said Shelly.
“How did you know to send your men to meet us?” asked Dakota.
“The abyan told me,” said Nimuel.
“What’s that?” asked Dakota.
“Think of it as a spirit guide,” said Nimuel. “All babaylan have one. Those who are more powerful can sometimes have multiple abyan.”
“And how many do you have?”
Nimuel chuckled. “I don’t like to brag. But let’s just say I’m not at a loss for spirits to commune with.”
“It’s an honor to meet you. My mother superior worked with you in the past, she had very good things to say about you,” said Shelly.
“Yes, I remember her. How is she?”
Shelly nodded. “She’s well. But now we have another reason to seek out your help.”
“So the abyan told me, though he was a bit light on specifics.” Nimuel offered a shrug of his shoulders. “They often are. It’s a little annoying that way.”
Shelly reached into her pocket and pulled out the parchment with the spell on it. She handed it over to Nimuel and he took it carefully in his hands. He ran his fingers over the parchment, staring at the words as he paced around the small village. After a few moments of study, he looked up.
“Where did you get this?”
“A man who helped us,” said Shelly. “He said this spell could offer us protection from the beings who are trying to find us.”
“It would, indeed,” said Nimuel. “Tell me more about this man.”
“His name is—was Luther Cross,” said Dakota. “A cambion from Chicago, raised by the Sons of Solomon. He helped me when I was pregnant with my child, helped me find out what the baby really was. He was trying to stop a demon from taking the baby from me.”
“And he died in the process,” said Nimuel. “The abyan told me there was some strange activity on the islands nearby. Now I know what they meant.”
“I know this is a lot to ask, but we don’t understand how to read that spell,” said Dakota. “We were hoping you could help us.”
Nimuel held up the parchment for Dakota to see as he approached her. “Do you know where this came from?”
Dakota looked down at her baby as Nimuel came close to her. He stared into her face, waiting for her to look up and meet his gaze. When she finally did, he asked her again.
“Who gave Luther Cross this spell?”
Dakota sighed and looked down, then whispered, “Lucifer.”
Nimuel turned his back on her and paced again, still staring at the parchment, his fingers continuing to run over the lettering. I watched him with growing frustration. “Just who the hell does this asshole think he is?” I muttered.
Nimuel stopped and turned, looking directly at me. And then, he said something that surprised me. “I think, Mr. Cross, that I’ve sworn an oath to protect my people no matter what. And that something like this could put them in grave danger.”
He did see me. And now Shelly and Dakota were exchanging looks of surprise. Baby Malcolm just giggled, like they’d just stumbled on the punchline of a joke only he knew.
“D-did you just say Luther is here?” asked Dakota.
Nimuel nodded. “He’s standing right next to you, in fact. I imagine his spirit has been with you ever since he died.”
“How’s this possible?” asked Dakota, looking to her left and then to her right, trying to catch a glimpse of me. But even though she knew I was there, she still didn’t seem to be able to see me. “Why didn’t he say anything? Give us some sort of sign?”
Nimuel closed his eyes and held up his hand, his lips moving in silence. After a moment, he opened them again. “Because he can’t. He’s not yet strong enough.”
“The terrorists,” said Shelly. “They opened fire on us and something strange happened. The bullets just…bent around us and hit them.”
“I did what I could,” I said. “Took a lot out of me.”
“It was Luther,” said Nimuel, conveying my message. “His powers will grow in time and he’ll become strong enough to make himself visible. Assuming nothing stops him.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dakota.
I shook my head. Last thing I needed was Dakota worrying about me while she had to keep her head on straight. Nimuel watched my gesture and picked up on it.
“Nothing to worry about, Dakota,” he said. “Having Mr. Cross here certainly makes it easier for me to understand the situation. But there’s still the issue of the origin of this spell.”
“Nimuel,” I said. “Can we talk privately?”
He looked down at the parchment and then looked to his men. “Alvin, show our guests where they can rest. I’m sure they’re tired after everything they’ve been through.”
“What about Luther? The spell?” asked Dakota.
“Mr. Cross and I have to discuss the matter ourselves. We’ll talk later.”
Alvin nodded and escorted Shelly and Dakota to one of the shanties. Nimuel nodded at me and gestured with his hand off in one direction. He started walking and I followed. We walked until we came to the edge of the mountain, overlooking the island of Basilan. Off in the distance, I could see the ocean.
Nimuel sat down and wrapped his arms around his bent knees. “I hope you can understand my position here, Mr. Cross.”
“I do.” I sat beside him. “You’re trying to protect your people, I can respect that. But I’m trying to protect all of humanity. You can’t be the shaman of a small town if there are no people left.”
“You’re talking about the baby.”
“You know what he is?”
“I know there’s…a power inside him. Something ancient, something unpredictable, and something that may be unstoppable.”
“He’s a nephilim,” I said. “His father’s gotten pretty impatient waiting for the apocalypse to start, so he’s taken matters into his own hands. And Malcolm’s just the start, the first of what will be an army.”
“Occam’s razor.”
“The simplest solution is the right one,” I said. “How does that apply here?”
“The simplest way to end this plot is to deal with the child,” said Nimuel.
My head snapped and I glared at Nimuel. “I’m not killing a child, you heartless bastard.”
“Why not?” asked Nimuel, not even flinching under my gaze. Instead, he returned it. “This child poses a danger to the world. Even if you stop his father, he still poses a great threat. You know the legends of the nephilim, you know why they were eliminated in the first place. Why do you think this time will be different?”
“Because your origins don’t dictate your future,” I said. “I’m a cambion.”
“Was,” he corrected. “Now you’re a ghost.”
“Fine, was a cambion,” I said with a huff. “Point is I didn’t become what they thought I would. I used to date a vampire, she didn’t prey on the innocent. Met this werewolf one time on a job, vicious sonnuva bitch, but he’d only hunt killers and rapists. You starting to see what I’m getting at here?”
Nimuel nodded. “I do. And I see your point. But what makes you think Dakota will be capable of guiding Malcolm towards a better future? Stop his father, fine. There’s still the matter of the rest of Heaven. And any others who’ve learned about the child. Sooner or later, there will be more of them. And you’re no longer in a position to help.”
“That’s why I need your help,” I said. “My friends are trying to see if they can still help me out, but there’s not a lot of time.”
“Because you believe your soul is in danger.
And you’d be right.”
“Can you sense anything?” I asked.
Nimuel shook his head. “You’re safe for now, but who knows how much longer that will last.”
“So help me,” I said. “Believe it or not, Lucifer isn’t what you think. He’s also someone who went against what his origins dictated he would be. Maybe he’s not a good guy, but he’s got an interest in seeing this being brought to an end before it goes too far. So what do you say?”
Nimuel sighed and looked at the parchment. He looked back at me. “This is a difficult spell. It’s not going to be easy and it will take some time to make the preparations.”
I nodded. “Do what you have to do so we can get this right. But try and get it done as soon as possible. If those wraiths find me, I’ll have to leave. And I don’t want to do that until I know Dakota is safe.”
“I understand. I’ll help you, Mr. Cross.”
8
Tessa sat in the passenger seat of Alistair’s rental car, parked just across the street from an unsigned bar in the neighborhood of Englewood. Alistair was in the driver’s seat, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips as he stared at the bar. The last time he was here, he’d made quite an impression on Odysseus Black. Looked like they’d repaired the damage he caused.
“I don’t like this,” said Tessa. “I can sense a lot of dark energy around this place.”
“No surprise there given who we’re dealing with,” said Alistair.
“More than that,” said Tessa. “I know how powerful Black is, but what I’m sensing…it goes beyond that.”
Alistair turned and looked at her. “Lends credence to my story then, don’t it?”
“Maybe. But now I’m even more nervous about us going in there,” said Tessa. “Black’s not accustomed to walk-ins, and he’s got an entourage of lycans following him around at all times.”
“I’m aware. I’ve dealt with them before, I can do it again.”
“All the more reason to reconsider this. You told me you already went to Black for help when Luther was still mixed up and he turned you down. Not to mention you roughed up his men. No one in there is going to be happy to see you. And if Black wouldn’t help you last time, what makes you think he would do anything this time?”
“Black is old school, like me,” said Alistair. “You stand up to him, you show him how strong you are, how brave you are, he’ll respect that.”
“Should I have brought a tape measure along?” asked Tessa.
Alistair snickered between drags on his cigarette. “I can see why Luther likes you. Definitely a spirited one.”
“Did Luther also tell you that I kind of enjoy doing this thing called living?”
“No, but doesn’t surprise me that you do. Most people feel the same.” Alistair reached into the console and took a coin from inside. He started twirling it between his fingers.
“I’m glad you realize that. Because we don’t have the firepower to stand up to Black. I can sense your power and though it’s strong, when compared to what I’m feeling from that bar, you’re like a smoldering match up against an atom bomb.”
“Hey, I may be a gruff old bastard, but I do have feelings,” said Alistair. “But it’s not about how much power you have, it’s about how you use it.”
“Is that what your ex-girlfriend told you?”
Alistair stopped twirling the coin and clasped it in his fist. “Ex-wife, and no. She was too busy getting her soul dragged to Hell.”
Tessa blinked. “What? Are you serious?”
Alistair nodded.
“Wow…I’m so sorry, I had no idea—”
“Forget it, it’s in the past.” Alistair flicked his cigarette out the open window. “C’mon now, we’ve got work to do.” He opened the door and got out of the car. Tessa followed his lead.
“I don’t know how you think I can help,” she said. “My powers aren’t reliable and if I try something, it could easily go wrong.”
“Don’t need your powers, just need you to play good cop to my bad cop.” Alistair reached into his trench coat and pulled out a silver flask. He took a quick drink and passed it to Tessa. “Little liquid courage?”
She sighed and accepted the flask, taking a quick swig. She coughed as soon as the bourbon burned a path down her throat and then returned it to him.
“Take it you’re more of an umbrella-drink kind of girl,” he said as he put the flask back in his coat.
“Shut up. Let’s just hurry up and get ourselves killed, okay? Maybe then I’ll be able to catch up on sleep.”
“Your optimism is infectious.”
They crossed the street and Alistair walked up to the door. He grasped the handle and found the door locked. Last time, he was polite at first, asked them to open up. When they refused, he blew the door down. He was tempted to do the same again, but decided to go with the soft approach, at least for now.
Alistair knocked and the slot in the door opened. Yellow, animalistic eyes peered down at him and a gruff voice barked, “What?”
“Alistair Carraway and Tessa Kang, here to see Mr. Black.”
“Get the fuck outta here ’fore I tear your head off an’ use it as a toilet.”
Alistair snickered. “I remember you from the last time I came by. Though at that time, you threatened to use my skull for more erotic purposes. Interesting how your tastes have changed.”
A low growl emanated from behind the door.
“Do you remember how things went for you last time, lad? And this time, I’m not alone. I imagine getting your arse handed to you by an old man didn’t do you any favors with your crew. How would it look if a tiny slip of a girl knocked your fangs in?”
The lycan’s eyes went to the side to examine Tessa. She glared back at him and scowled. “I think you recognized my name. You don’t want to push either of us.”
The slot closed and then came the sound of deadbolts turning before the door opened. The lycan who stood behind the door was easily over six feet tall and stared down at them, his teeth bared as they entered the bar.
“See you cleaned up the place after my last visit,” said Alistair, frowning as he ran a finger along the surface of the bar. He wiped the finger on his jacket. “Well…or as close to clean as this dive is likely to get.”
“What do you want?” asked the lycan behind the bar, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall.
“As I told Fido, I’m here to speak with Mr. Black. Him and I have some business to discuss.”
“And what kind of business would that be?”
“It’s the little matter of a book he has in his possession.”
“Mr. Black’s got lots of books. He’s a scholarly type of guy.”
“And I imagine he hosts quite the literary discussion circle,” said Alistair. “But I’m more interested in a very specific book. Now if you wouldn’t mind fetching him…”
The bartender kept staring at Alistair but then said, “Sammy, go tell the boss Carraway an’ Kang are here to see him.”
Alistair glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw one of the lycans on the other side of the bar climb off his stool and go into the back room. Then Alistair produced a pack of Lucky Strikes and drew one out.
“I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this establishment doesn’t conform to the indoor smoking ban.”
The bartender shrugged. “They’re your lungs, old man. Don’t bother me none if you wanna blacken ’em up.”
“Very kind of you.” Alistair lit the cigarette and took a drag on it as he sat down on the stool. He took the coin from before and started twirling it again.
Tessa sat beside him and waved the smoke from her face. She looked at the bartender. “Any chance I can get a rum and Coke?”
The bartender nodded and started to prepare her drink. Tessa tapped her fingers on the counter, waiting for Odysseus to finally show himself. While she waited, she felt a presence behind her and heard the sound of sniffing. She looked over her shoulder and saw one o
f the lycans standing there, his long snout drawing in air and his mouth open just a bit, panting.
“Excuse me, do you mind?” she asked.
“You’re a cute one, but I bet you got a wild side,” said the lycan. “How do you feel about doggy style?”
The lycans in the bar erupted into laughter. Alistair glanced at Tessa. “You want me to teach him some manners?”
“No need.” Tessa turned her stool around so she was facing the lycan.
He was still laughing at his joke and then looked down at her. “So, whaddaya say? Wanna party?”
“You ever wonder what burning werewolf flesh smells like?” asked Tessa.
“Huh?”
“Smells a lot like steak.” Tessa held up her hand and started twirling her fingers around. Sparks started to form, bursting and causing the lycan to flinch. She looked at him and smiled. “I like steak. How about you?”
The lycan took a step back and glanced around, seeing the rest of his pack staring at him. He hesitated for a moment and then said, “Y’know what, on second thought, I like a girl with more meat on her bones. Your ass is too bony.”
Tessa shrugged. “Your loss, dog-breath.” She turned back to the bar and saw her drink was waiting.
“Impressive,” said Alistair. “Considering what you’d told me.”
“Little things like that are easy,” said Tessa. “If he’d called my bluff, then I might’ve had a problem.”
Sammy, who’d been sent to notify Odysseus, came out of the back room and walked behind the bar to address the two humans. “Boss’ll see you now.”
“You’re a fine lad, Sammy.”
Alistair dropped the coin in his pocket, got off his stool, and walked towards the back room with Tessa behind. Sammy met them at the door and opened it for them. He allowed them both to enter first and followed behind, closing the door and standing tall in front of it.
“Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon, old man,” said Odysseus Black from behind his massive desk. He rubbed the skull on the desk’s surface and gestured for the two of them to sit in the chairs in front of him.
“That’s funny coming from you,” said Alistair as he and Tessa took their seats.
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