I gasped out of shock and looked directly at Paul. His expression was unreadable, but I suspected that he knew something about these mysterious wings in the basement. I didn’t believe for one second that he was capable of killing an angel, but other questions began rolling through my mind. What exactly did I know about Paul, other than the fact that he used to be a Watcher?
Other demons had talked about angels, but no one had actually seen one. Angels were God’s creatures and Lucifer hated them with a vengeance. Some called them white demons and claimed that they had seen them walking through hell. The silence stretched for a while and tension filled the pub.
Paul started laughing and the guards flinched. I wanted to run, get the hell out of Rodriguez’s sight. I knew that if he broke my wards I was more than screwed. There were many things that I didn’t want him to know about me.
“Rodriguez, I think there’s been some mistake,” I said, thinking that these days the faction was trying to find any excuse to summon mongrels down to hell. “Paul is just a barman. He wouldn’t be capable of killing an angel. He’s running a pub and doesn’t care about faction business.”
I didn’t need to say anything, but I owed it to Paul. Right now he was in trouble because of me. A moment later one of the guards jumped over the bar, smashing the glasses and pushing Paul outside in front of Rodriguez. Paul didn’t even try to fight him. I panicked, wondering what other surprises this evening might bring. Rodriguez was the head of the faction, but any violation of protocol was taken care of by Watchers. He was supposed to be taking care of royal business.
I suspected that Rodriguez would question Paul first, but the old demon got to me again. Just like before I was pinned down to the table, unable to move. Fire rose within me, but it faded quickly when he lowered his face closer, so I couldn’t avoid his liquid golden eyes.
“There is something about you, Miss Brodeur, that always concerned me. I wasn’t planning to get you involved in that case with missing prince George a couple of months ago, but others had claimed that you were the expert, so I went along with it,” he snarled, and his energy sank into mine, trying to break my protective wards. All right, so I got under his skin, but I still had no idea why. “Although royals didn’t want you in the palace, they trusted that you could bring the prince back. On top of that, Arthur had this suspicious relationship with you.”
“He had his … reasons,” I mumbled, feeling like my head was going to get squashed. Rodriguez was using his demonic abilities to break me slowly with the most amount of pain. This guy seemed to be getting high on my fear.
“You have been hiding things away and tonight I’ll finally learn all your secrets,” he whispered, and I truly hoped that he would get on with it. Rodriguez would strike gold if he found out about Summer. I waited for him to ask more questions, but nothing happened. I heard the movement somewhere at the bar. Some tables and chairs were being pushed aside.
“Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this,” Paul said, sounding like he was ready to fight for me. He changed his mind quickly enough. Rodriguez put more pressure over my neck and I fought with myself to keep it together. The old demon was trying to provoke Paul.
A moment later he let me go and I lifted myself back on my feet, massaging the nape of my neck. I glanced around the pub and my eyes stopped on the wings that one of the other guards brought in from the basement. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the enormous gold wings with shimmering feathers. Everyone in the pub were mesmerised by the piece of holiness that wasn’t supposed to exist. I instantly wanted to run my fingers over them, experience the pureness of the angel that the wings once belonged to. Silence descended in the pub, and I wondered if Paul was hiding more secrets than I could ever imagine.
“I have enough evidence to conduct an official investigation,” Rodriguez stated after some time.
Paul shook his head and I shot him a questioning look. I was worried that Rodriguez’s guards would start rummaging through the whole basement. If the wings really belonged to Paul then the fact that he was brewing magical tequila was just the tip of the iceberg.
“For years I haven’t bothered with faction and its politics. And you’re a moron if you believe that Maxine might be conspiring against Lucifer. She is only trying to protect all of us,” Paul said, losing his cool. I’d never seen him so angry. He didn’t seem concerned about the wings, not even one bit. I had no idea who to believe anymore.
“I’m done with wasting time. I’m taking the mongrel girl to the underworld. Guards, open the gates,” Rodriguez ordered. “We can take up the issue of the wings downstairs. Our time is overdue here.” He tried to grab me again, but this time I was ready. I swung away from him, releasing my demonic vibes. I had my last emergency potion on me, and I wasn’t afraid to use it. His brewing fiery energy reached my senses before I could make use of my magic. I was slammed back on the floor by Rodriguez’s energy, most likely dislocating a shoulder.
“Now, now, Miss Brodeur. We both know that you’re not strong enough to fight me. The secrets, let’s find out what is going on inside that head of yours.” I heard him chuckle. The whole bar started shaking, the glasses, floor, chair and tables. I had no idea who was summoning the gates of hell, but icy fear settled in the pit of my stomach. This was it—my end.
I worried about Paul. He had been keeping away from the supernatural world, doing his own thing for as long as I remembered. Now he was getting involved in stuff that wasn’t even concerning him. I already sensed Rodriguez’s power breaking my wards apart. The floor kept vibrating, and suddenly I smelled the smouldering heat all around me. A silent scream escaped me and then everything stopped. Another demon was in the pub; a strong striking energy rolled down my spine. I was breathing hard, sweat dripping down my face.
“Rodriguez, you old git. What the hell are you doing in here causing such havoc in the human neighbourhood at this time of night?” said the strange voice that I recognised. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head about an inch, but struggled to remain on my feet. Everyone in the bar, including Rodriguez, was staring back at the stranger who must have walked through the door several moments earlier.
It was Morpheus, the demon that showed up in my apartment with a deal that I couldn’t turn down. I had no idea what he was doing in here. If he wanted to rescue me, then he was already too late. As far as I remembered he was supposed to be invisible in the demonic community.
“Morpheus?” Rodriguez asked, but it was more a statement than a question. His expression shifted, from elation to irritation. “This is a private matter that shouldn’t concern you.”
I blinked rapidly, remembering that I was supposed to keep breathing. Many questions were tangling in my head. My soul belonged to Lucifer. No one should care if I was summoned down to hell now or ever.
“Really? I thought that you only take care of royal matters?” Morpheus questioned Rodriguez with an odd smile. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but his energy was alive, coursing around. His enigma was affecting everyone in the bar.
Rodriguez smoothed his lion beard. For a split second he seemed like he was lost for words.
“This is a royal matter. Lucifer himself provided a full authorisation to deal with this situation,” the old demon stated, puffing up his chest. Morpheus went over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey like this was a perfectly normal thing to do. A moment later he poured some into a glass.
“Hmm…really? It seems to me that you’re taking care of a Watcher’s job. Tell me, what is this mongrel girl doing here? Are you trying to bypass Berith and take all the credit?”
My lungs were burning, and even after their exchange I still believed that I was missing something. Politics weren’t my forte, but I had a feeling that Morpheus was trying to save my butt. Arthur or someone else must have said something to Rodriguez. The old demon wouldn’t have just showed up here otherwise. He had never trusted me, and now he found a reason to bring me up for legal interrogation.
The old git narrowed his golden eyes at the newcomer, then glanced back at me. His eyes shimmered with raging fire.
“It’s a matter of palace security and that mongrel is my business. I’m doing Berith a favour. He will be thanking me later,” Rodriguez stated, marking me with his energy. Morpheus seemed completely relaxed. He drank some of the whiskey and he glanced at the wings that supposedly belong to an angel.
“Well, as far as I’m concerned you’re questioning a witness without following a protocol. Watchers should be here, taking care of those stunning wings and a mongrel girl,” he stated. “Are you trying pick up some points for the upcoming election?”
It looked like Morpheus had hit the spot, because suddenly Rodriguez’s expression turned into a twisted rage.
My shoulder was hurting, and I seriously was craving a drink. That old bastard wasn’t planning to let me go easily. Ricky did say that there was going to be a vote, but demons didn’t talk about it much. Morpheus must have outranked Rodriguez.
“Election? I believe that my position is untouchable. The dark lord knows how valuable I am to him,” Rodriguez barked, and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
I had no idea what kind of game those two were playing, but I had a feeling that I could get off lightly. No doubt, someone was going to get punished for killing an angel, but I refused to believe that Paul had anything to do with it.
“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. Do me a favour and leave. I’ll take care of the wings,” Morpheus said, and that chilly cold voice did something to my insides. His power touched everyone; even the guards had backed off.
“The girl is coming with me to the palace. She needs to be interrogated,” Rodriguez snarled.
“The mongrel is staying here. Don’t force me to report that you’re abusing your position on earth. This isn’t hell, Master Rodriguez,” Morpheus stated in a cold tone of voice. The silence stretched for ages after that statement and I was waiting for Rodriguez to challenge him.
He seemed like he was weighing his options, aware of his own position in hell. My heart skipped a beat, then danced a triple time.
“Guards, clear out. We are leaving,” Rodriguez said.
I couldn’t believe it—he was letting me off the hook. He didn’t look at me again, but I knew that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. Morpheus had bought me some time. That memory from the past, surely it meant something. I relaxed and tried to stretch my right shoulder. I was relieved when I felt that it wasn’t dislocated. Paul shot Morpheus a sharp look, and I could have sworn that there was some kind of acknowledgment in his eyes.
“Thank you for saving my butt. It was a hell of a day,” I said, walking up to the bar.
“Rodriguez had no right to question you. The upcoming election is making him nervous. He is afraid he could lose his position,” Morpheus explained, taking another sip of whiskey.
I didn’t get what the election had to do with me. Paul still wasn’t saying anything, staring back at Morpheus with an unreadable expression on his face.
“What about the wings? Do they really belong to an angel and what are they doing in Paul’s basement?”
“That’s a good question,” Morpheus said, smiling. “Paul, maybe you will answer for me?”
Paul exhaled sharply and scratched his head.
“These are my old wings. I was planning to move them tonight. It’s a reminder that I was once someone else,” Paul said and I was convinced that he was pulling my leg.
“Your wings?” I repeated. “Hold on a minute, let me retrace that. Rodriguez had clearly stated the wings belonged to an angel?”
“Technically, yes. The wings belong to an angel. Several years ago a God’s messenger came down from heaven. He was supposed to protect a young human girl, but there were so many temptations on earth that he soon forgot about his task,” Morpheus was saying, sounding amused.
“I don’t follow,” I said, looking at Paul who seemed awfully quiet. This whole thing was blowing my mind. Paul was a retired Watcher, not an angel. The wings couldn’t have belonged to him.
“I lied to you a little, Max. I became a Watcher after I failed to complete my task on earth. These were my messenger wings that were cut away when I swore my loyalty to Berith instead,” Paul explained, like this wouldn’t shock me. “I used to be an angel. The wings used to belong to me.”
I laughed, staring at him with utter disbelief. Paul was pulling my leg; this whole story sounded completely absurd.
“I don’t think she believes you, my friend,” Morpheus pointed out. Paul shrugged his shoulder and sat on the stool.
“Maxine, meet my old friend Morpheus. I owe him my life. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other.”
Chapter 13
“And I was therefore drawn from Hell’s wide throat to show him–and I’ve still to show him more – as much as my own schooling will allow.” ―Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy
Over the years I got used to the fact that Paul’s life was a mystery, but this whole bullshit about him being sent from heaven was really too much for me to handle on the same night that I lost my daughter. I decided to leave and head over to Ricky’s apartment and not ask any more questions.
It appeared that Paul had been lying to me for the entire time that I’d known him. He obviously had some connections in hell. I wouldn’t have been surprised if all his previous stories were fabricated. Did he know about the deal that I made with Morpheus? Had he been supplying me with magical tequila this entire time just so he could keep an eye on me?
I was exhausted, drained and emotionally pissed off with everything that happened. In any other circumstance I would have stayed and asked Paul a million questions, but that evening I was done.
“We still need to talk, Maxine. Expect me tomorrow,” Morpheus said when I was leaving. I simply nodded and then I was out the door, walking through my familiar neighbourhood. The streets were quiet and I thought about Zach. Earlier on I chickened out and ran away. I should have told him the truth, and he would have backed away.
I took the tube to Chelsea. It was too risky to go back to my own flat. Rodriguez most likely left his people outside in case I went back there tonight. Morpheus’s interference in the pub only made my situation worse.
Once I walked through the door, I felt like I had been up twenty-four hours straight. Suddenly bed was the only place I wanted to end up. Alexis had Summer; Matilda had bought me a bit of time to figure out my next step. Tomorrow was a new day and I had to gather my energy to get my daughter back. Even though I was doomed, and Paul wasn’t the person that I thought he was, I fell asleep remaining positive—and sober for the longest time that I could remember.
I woke up late, and when I glanced outside the world seemed greyer and more depressing than usual. I rubbed my face, thinking about Summer and Ricky again. My world collapsed last night, but I wasn’t ready to give up yet. My little girl was struck with a sleeping charm. She was still alive, so there was hope.
Sitting tight on my arse and waiting for Morpheus to show up wasn’t an option. I had to find the way to track Alexis down on my own, without getting him involved. Five minutes later I rolled myself out of bed and went to look for my phone. I located it on the floor in the living room. The screen was slightly cracked. I must have smashed it somewhere in the Forgotten Street. Zach and Emma had tried to call me a few times.
Vivid memories from last night assaulted my mind. Paul and his angel wings, Rodriguez and his discussion with Morpheus. The retired Watcher had been hiding so many secrets from me in the past decade. He was supposed to be my friend. Now I couldn’t even trust him.
I had to admit that I missed Arthur. The roles had turned. Two months ago he was the one chasing after me, promising the world. Now he couldn’t even stand to look at me.
There was no alcohol in the apartment apart from whiskey in Ricky’s fancy minibar. I wanted to give myself a high five. Magical tequila hadn’t passed through my mouth since my disas
trous night in Gjöll. Maybe I had finally conquered my addiction or at least changed for the better.
I puttered around the apartment constantly thinking about the small chubby face and those eyes that were the spitting image of Arthur. I kept telling myself that Summer was the most beautiful little girl that I’d ever seen, and I would fight for her until the end.
Around midday my stomach and fridge were both empty, so I decided to go out and grab something to eat. I was planning to press Morpheus tonight about Alexis. He did save my arse last night, but so far his instructions were worth a lot of nothing. On top of that, Emma and Zachary were ready to follow me all the way to hell if that was necessary.
The food in the local coffee shop was tasteless, but I kept telling myself that I needed to recoup my energy for later. All my potions were left in storage in my old flat. Ricky didn’t have enough ingredients to brew more, and I needed to get my hands on magical potions. Things like that were very useful when I was battling dark forces.
A customer had left a gossip magazine on the table, so I picked it up and started turning the pages. There was an article about Prince Arthur. I automatically pushed it away. I didn’t want to read it at first, but soon curiosity won and I found out that the prince appeared to be depressed. According to the reporter, Arthur stopped going out and had been locking himself in his residence, away from his family. Everyone was worried about him.
I knew that most of the tabloids were full of crap, but this one was actually telling the truth. Arthur was down because of Summer. I’d betrayed him and I had to make this right. Soaring guilt reminded me that I wasn’t the only parent out there that was suffering. It was time to face reality and see him. In the end of the day Summer was his child too. I paid for the food and the headed to the tube station.
The food fuelled my demonic energy, although I was still tired when I walked through the wet streets of London. In the tube people seemed more depressed than usual or I wasn’t able to block their doomed thoughts as well as I wanted. The weather was to blame; it was a grey and rainy day.
Doomed Cases Series (1-3) Demonic Triangle Diabolical Quest Infernal Initiation Page 55