“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Think I’m starting to learn a few things,” I said. “Being a spirit, feels pretty similar to dreamwalking. And when dreamwalking, you can do some pretty impressive things.”
The wraiths stopped in front of me and just stared, waiting for me to make the next move. Oh, I was going to make a move, all right. I reached inside my jacket and smiled as I felt it there. I wrapped my fingers around it and drew it from the holster. My custom revolver, loaded with anti-supernatural rounds and sigils carved on the barrel. No idea why I didn’t think to treat this like dreamwalking, but seemed I was already primed for life in the veil.
I aimed the gun at one of the wraiths. It screeched and came at me. I stood my ground, biding my time, my finger on the trigger. I squeezed. A single round fired from the barrel and hit the wraith right between its eyes.
It let out another screech, but this was different from last time. Somehow it sounded more agonized. As the wraith let out its wail, its inky formed seemed to disintegrate, like smoke.
“Guess these things aren’t so tough after all,” I said and planned to next use the gun on the remaining wraith. But it was gone. I turned, trying to get a bead on it.
Nothing. The wraith was nowhere to be seen. I frowned and holstered the gun, then turned and rejoined Whitey, who was waiting a block ahead right near the entrance to the Southport Avenue station.
“Won’t have to worry about the wraiths anymore,” I said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You think that’s gonna be the end of them?”
“Given my luck? Probably not. But just let me savor the small victories when I can.”
I turned from Whitey to continue walking. But when I did, my brow scrunched in confusion. I looked at the station entrance. Before there was a brown sign above the entrance with SOUTHPORT written on it. But now, it was red and the word LAWRENCE was printed on the sign.
“How did we get almost two miles uptown when we were running south?” I asked.
Whitey shrugged.
This was now becoming too much like the dreamscape. But even in there, you had to go through a doorway of some kind in order to travel to another location. Here, things just…changed. More than a little disorienting.
In the distance, I could hear something. I took a few steps away from the station entrance and looked down the street. There was a familiar intersection up ahead and it seemed the music was coming from there.
“I know why we’re here,” I said and I started walking towards the intersection.
“Where are you going?” asked Whitey, catching up to my side.
“It wasn’t the wraiths who transported us uptown, it was him.”
“Who’s ‘him’?”
I came to a stop once I reached the light. Just across the street was an older building with a green sign over the entrance: GREEN MILL COCKTAIL LOUNGE. I pointed at the bar.
“That’s where we’re going.”
“You nuts?” asked Whitey. “I know you probably need a drink after everything that’s happened to you, but you won’t be able to get one. Plus, that was a mob bar back in the day. Jack McGurn was the owner during Prohibition and he was part of Capone’s outfit. You don’t wanna know what kind of angry spirits are probably hanging around there.”
“I don’t care about the ghosts and I’m not trying to get a drink,” I said. “I have to talk to a man inside. Or rather, an angel.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Whitey moved in front of me to block me from going any further. “Don’t be an idiot, Luther. You already refused Charon’s escort to the other side, you’re being hunted by wraiths, and your friends are trying to resurrect you from the dead. You’re already screwing with the natural order enough before you start tapping angels on the shoulder.”
“Then don’t follow. I can take things from here.”
I walked through Whitey and crossed the street. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was still there, but he was gone. Couldn’t blame the guy. He was just some old theater ghost, this was too much for him. I walked through the doors of the Green Mill and entered the lounge.
“So, who are we looking for?”
I looked to my side and saw Whitey leaning against the wall, arms folded across the jacket of his theater uniform. I smiled at him but he just shook his head.
“Don’t say a damn word about it. Let’s just find this buddy of yours and get this over with.”
I nodded and walked through the lounge, looking at the faces of those seated in the different booths. Finally, I spotted the one I was looking for. Bald with dark skin and dressed in a white suit. Normally in the real world, angels could easily pass as human. But now that I was a ghost, I was seeing things different. He had wings of light on his back and his blue eyes glowed brighter than ever. He looked up at me and gestured to the large booth he sat in alone.
I slid into the booth and Whitey sat across from me. Gabriel first looked at Whitey and examined him for a moment. Then he turned to me.
“I see you got my invitation. And you brought a friend.”
“This is Whitey. Haunts the Music Box down on Southport,” I said.
Gabriel smiled and leaned back. “Ah yes, I’ve been there. Lovely little theater.”
Whitey practically beamed with pride. “Thanks. I do what I can to keep the place running smoothly.”
“He’s apparently my spirit guide or something,” I said. “We were traipsing through my memories when we got attacked by wraiths. Figured out a way to fight them and then somehow we ended up here.”
“I’m sorry for alerting the wraiths to your presence, but we needed to speak and that seemed the most efficient way to get you out of the memory walk,” said Gabriel.
“You did that?” I asked.
He nodded. “And then transported you uptown. There have been some interesting developments since we last spoke and so I wanted to talk with you about those.”
“You couldn’t have found an easier way to tell me you wanted to talk?” I asked.
“Luther, please. Let’s focus on what’s important, okay?”
I sighed and leaned into the booth’s cushion, folding my arms over my chest. “Okay fine. So talk.”
“It’s my understanding that you’ve trapped Asmodeus in Cocytus. You could only have done that with help from a very dubious individual,” said Gabriel.
“How about we cut the cryptic bullshit for once?” I asked. “Yes, I got help from Lucifer. I did what I had to do because you wouldn’t lift a goddamn finger. Lucifer’s was the only game in town.”
“And what did he want in return?” asked Gabriel.
“A favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“He didn’t say. All he said was it’s something that wouldn’t go against my nature, whatever that means,” I said.
Gabriel sighed and took a sip of his drink. “This complicates things, Luther. I’m on your side, believe me. But I can’t help you if you’ve hitched your wagon to the Morningstar’s.”
“What choice did I have? You said it yourself, you weren’t going to get involved. I can’t play the game if you keep stacking the deck against me.”
Gabriel looked down, wrapping his fingers on the table. “You may have a point. It does seem that you’re being tested in ways that are…unusual.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
“It means I believe that something is rotten in Denmark, just like you,” said Gabriel. “I know you won’t tell me everything, and you likely have your reasons. But I do need some show of trust on your end.”
That was where things became complicated. If I told Gabriel too much, I might show him a path that led to Dakota. But if I told him too little, he’d be useless to me. I had to strike a balance somewhere in the middle.
“I think there’s a rogue angel, trying to make moves against the Choir’s will,” I said.
“A serious accusation,” said Gabriel.
“I know, but would explai
n a lot that’s happened in the past year,” I said. “Such as Raziel’s disappearance.”
“I can make some inquiries,” said Gabriel. “Of course, you know I can’t promise anything.”
“Neither can I.”
“Fair enough,” said Gabriel and he extended his hand. “We’ll both continue on our respective paths and I’ll contact you if I learn anything to corroborate your theory.”
I shook his head. “Deal. Though maybe try a more conventional way of reaching out next time?”
Gabriel chuckled. And like that, we were back in front of the Southport station entrance. Whitey looked around in confusion and I just scoffed.
“Fucking angels, man.”
17
After eating dinner, Alistair returned to studying and deciphering the notes from his psychography session earlier. Tessa had gone back to her own books, trying to study ways on increasing her magic. She had tried minor spells as practice, things like levitating small objects or lighting candles, which all came pretty naturally.
But she was afraid of attempting anything larger than that and the stress of having to attempt a raid on the dwelling of the most powerful sorcerer in the city proved almost too debilitating for even the simple spells.
The books she had weren’t much help in this arena, either. There was unfortunately no precedent for someone losing their magic after returning from Purgatory, so nothing she could really look to for answers.
She slammed the grimoire closed in frustration and threw it across the room. Alistair looked up from his notes in surprise. He glanced back at the book and then at her.
“Something troubling you?”
Tessa shook her head. “I can’t do this, Al. I know you need my help to get the book from Black, but I don’t think I’m the right person for the job. There’s nothing in any of these books that seems like it could help me restore my magic to full strength. And without that, I’m just a liability.”
Alistair took a sip of his drink and leaned back into the couch. “You know what your problem is, love?”
“Yeah, I’m a miserable excuse for a witch.”
Alistair pointed at her. “That right there is your problem. You’re trying too hard, putting too much pressure on yourself. Magic isn’t about rules and knowledge and dusty old books. It’s not about accuracy or skill. It’s about being attuned not only with the world around you, but with yourself.”
“So you’re saying I’m out of sync with myself and the rest of the world?” asked Tessa.
“Think about what you went through,” said Alistair. “You traveled to another dimension and what happened while you were there?”
“Well, let’s see…” Tessa began. “Giant spiders, winged demons, creepy guys in suits, and oh yeah, a massive skull-headed creature with tentacles who breathed fire.”
“Sounds like you saw some wild shit.”
Tessa scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
“And after you came back? What happened then?”
She sighed. “You know all this. Luther went all dark side and teamed up with Lilith.”
“And how’d that make you feel? Him going ‘dark side’ as you put it?”
Tessa didn’t respond, but she knew what he was getting at. She just didn’t want to admit it herself.
“Tess, what did you feel? What do you still feel?”
She closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. And in a low voice, she finally said, “I freaked out.”
When she opened her eyes again, she saw Alistair staring at her and nodding.
“I know you did,” he said. “And you still are. That’s what’s throwing you off your game, love. You got in deep, deeper than you’d ever been before. And it scared the shit out of you. Ever since then, you’ve been trying to run from it.”
“So what good am I then?” asked Tessa. “If I can’t even muster up enough courage for anything but the most basic of spells, how am I going to be any help to you?”
“When I look at you, do you know what I see?” he asked.
“A total fuck-up? An insult to sorcery and witchcraft? A scared little girl who never should’ve gotten mixed up in this shit in the first place?”
“No.”
Alistair went for another sip, but the glass was now empty. He got up and went to the kitchen. After filling the glass with ice and gin, he came back and this time sat next to Tessa on the couch, looking her in the eye.
“I see someone who’s stepped up to the plate time and time again, even when she was scared,” he said. “You followed Luther into Purgatory. When Celeste came to you for help, you agreed. Even after what happened to Luther, you still helped him, too. And when I showed up at your doorstep, you opened up.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that you’re not the scared little amateur you paint yourself as. You’re a warrior, Tess. Even when you were scared, you still did your part. I know guys in the Sons who flamed out and are now drooling in psychiatric hospitals. They hadn’t even encountered a fraction of what you have.”
“You think I can help you, even with my magic like this? Even when I’m scared to death?” asked Tessa.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little fear. It keeps you sharp, stops you from getting reckless. The trick is you can’t let that fear control you—you have to control it.”
“And how do I do that?”
Alistair shrugged and sipped his drink. “That’s the bitch of it. Fear’s a personal thing. No one can tell you how to control it because everyone’s going to do it in a different way. But you need to be in tune with yourself if you’re going to ever hope to be a witch again.”
Tessa looked around the room. The candles, the grimoires, the incense. She sighed. There was a question on her mind and she’d been afraid to give voice to it until now.
“What if I don’t want to be a witch again?”
“Is that really true?” asked Alistair.
She shook her head. “I really don’t know anymore. When I got into this, I was in college. It was new and exciting. But then…people got hurt. Friends died. And I kept getting drawn in deeper into that world. Is that really what I want from my life?”
Alistair sighed and leaned forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “That’s not for me to say, love. I’m not going to tell you this life is easy. I’m in my sixties, for Chrissakes, and I’ve been doing this since I was old enough to shave. I’ve stood at the graves of friends, family, and lovers. I’ve watched innocents torn apart and have done things that will give me nightmares for an eternity.”
Tessa couldn’t help herself. She felt it bubbling up and tried to stop it. But an involuntary chuckle escaped her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand immediately, but when Alistair looked at her in surprise, it became more uncontrollable.
She started laughing.
“Is that funny?” asked Alistair, his face somewhat aghast.
“I’m sorry,” she said between fits of laughter. “But…was that supposed to be your big sales pitch? ‘Be a witch, you’ll be traumatized and everyone you love will die.’”
Alistair chortled himself and ran his fingers through his hair. “I suppose it does sound like a shit gig, huh?”
They both started laughing. It took a few minutes for the fits to pass and once they did, Tessa took a deep breath and just stared up at the ceiling for a short time. Alistair watched her as she sat there, her head tilted back and resting on the couch cushion.
“All joking aside, you’re not wrong,” she said. “That’s pretty much how the life goes, doesn’t it? Get out while you’re young or you’re pretty much damned.”
Alistair took a drag on his cigarette and gave a slow nod. “That’s the sacrifice we make so innocent people can be protected from the things that go bump in the night.”
“You think that’s a fair trade?”
“Maybe, maybe not. I stopped worrying about questions of fairness a long time ago. You start going down that road, you�
�ll go mad trying to figure out if the scales are balanced. We just do our job and hope we get out unscathed.”
Silence hung in the air for a few more moments before Tessa finally said, “You know, you really suck at this motivational speaker thing.”
Alistair grinned as he exhaled smoke through his nostrils. “Shall I show you what I’ve got so far?”
Tessa nodded. “Yes, anything to get me thinking about something else.”
Alistair stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray and collected the notebooks where he’d been deciphering his psychography. He flipped through the notebooks, trying to get to some of the drawings he’d made. One of them he passed to Tessa.
“I recognize this, Odysseus’ office, right?” she asked.
He nodded. “That’s the one. But what’s different is this.” Alistair pointed to the bookcase on the left side of the room. Next to it was a dark hole. “When we were there, the case covered up this hidden entrance. But you open that door and there are steps leading down to a basement.”
Alistair turned the page and the next drawing was of a spiral staircase leading down into the darkness. And then he turned the page again to show Tessa the underground area.
“Here’s Black’s basement, where he keeps all his dirty little secrets.”
Tessa studied the drawing and she saw far more bookcases lining the walls of the massive hidden room. All the shelves were filled to capacity. But not all the walls had bookcases. Some also had chains and manacles hanging from them. There were sigils on the floor and support pillars.
“That basement is where he keeps the book,” said Alistair. “Problem is getting down there.”
“What do you plan to do?” she asked.
“We know Black commands an army of lycans, so the first issue is distracting them. Second issue is that Black himself is no slouch. Try to sneak in while he’s on the premises and he’ll know.”
“So we need to get him away from there,” said Tessa. “How do we do that?”
Alistair sighed. Tessa’s eyes widened as she understood his plan. She sunk into the back cushions and closed her eyes while shaking her head. Alistair leaned forward and rubbed the stubble on his chin.
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