“That’s what I’d like to know,” Conrad’s voice sounded, as he entered the lounge, striding towards us.
I resisted asking Conrad why he wasn’t helping Jane equip the troops. But then I recalled that this uncouth man was, in fact, an angel. If he had a reason for being here then this may be worse than I thought…
“I don’t know what you are both talking about,” Ismail said, backing up towards the photo wall.
“You know,” Conrad said, a sneer on his lips. “My memory is still hazy. The fall really did a number on my head. Even now. But I’m not a complete fool…”
Wait…Conrad didn’t know about the golem case.
“Conrad, what are you talking about?” I asked, now thoroughly confused. First Ismail, now Conrad? What was going on? I turned to Treth for reassurance. His mouth was agape. He shook his head at my questioning gaze.
Conrad turned to me, his expression serious. No hint of his usually cheerful, too white smile. This wasn’t Conrad Khoi, the second-rate monster hunting agent and merchandise salesmen. This was the demon slayer. The fallen angel.
“Decades ago, the Seraphim almost destroyed Earth. This was to contain the realms. To stop demons and vampiric gods from using Earth as a gateway to invade other realms across the In Between…”
“But they didn’t.” I turned to Ismail. He was watching Conrad with palpable fear in his eyes.
“They didn’t,” Conrad echoed. “But that decision produced a schism. Some angels want to open up the In Between to stabilise the Earth and end the chaos, no matter the cost to humanity. But others want to keep it closed. Both factions have agents all over Earth.”
“And you, Conrad? What do you want?”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. Or, at least I’m not in any of the factions. They’re both willing to go too far. Too willing to let innocents die.”
He turned aggressively towards Ismail.
“But you can tell her more. Can’t you…Ishmael?”
“Wait, Ishmael? Don’t you mean Ismail?” I asked, stunned and confused, looking between my angry ex-boss and the now terrified Ismail.
“It really isn’t that creative of an alias, is it?” Conrad spat.
“I don’t know…” Ismail…Ishmael started, continuing to deny everything. But it was too late. It didn’t take an empath to see the fear in his eyes. The jig was up. And Conrad and I were moving in.
Just as the balcony door burst open. Blinding golden light stunned me as I grasped at the air for Ithalen. But even Treth was stunned.
I blinked away the flash of blinding light and couldn’t help but gasp.
A womanly figure, clad in silver armour, floated just above the ground, looming over us all, as her outstretched, white feathered wings threatened to burst through the ceiling.
It seemed I had found my golden figure.
A Seraphim. A fully fledged one. In the divine flesh. And I thought I could no longer be surprised.
Chapter 18.
Seraphim
The seraph…the angel…landed with barely any effort. She was taller than me by a huge margin. Easily over seven feet. Her hair was silver. Not grey. Not white. Silver. A splendid silver that would make a werewolf howl in pain. For her other features, I could only describe them as…perfect. In every way. No scars, blemishes, wrinkles or lines. She was statuesque. Splendid.
Holy.
“Zephon,” the angel stated, coldly, as she looked at Conrad.
“Ariel,” Conrad acknowledged, just as icy. He didn’t look a bit surprised. Just irritable.
Ishmael shied away from her, seemingly looking for a quick exit.
“Halt, Ishmael! No more running.”
He went still. To attention.
He obeyed her more quickly than he did me. I couldn’t blame him. I could understand why angels had their reputation now. I could worship something like this. Usually.
But, this was my office. My domain. And I wanted answers.
“Enough! I demand an explanation. Ismail…or Ishmael, who is this? And who are you? Really?”
Ishmael looked at Ariel, and the angel nodded, her perfect lips still locked into an expression of displeasure. Conrad tapped his foot and crossed his arms impatiently.
Ishmael sighed, defeated. “I am a Seraphim agent. Conrad…Zephon is right. I am of the faction that believes that Earth should remain in chaos, to prevent demonic invasion. I was sent to Earth to watch Zephon and…you, Kat. Your Army of the Vessel has been identified as a potential risk to the Realms. Allowing spirits to tether themselves freely to you has dangerous implications for the In Between. But…”
“But…” Ariel interjected, the impatience in her voice palpable. “He went rogue. When another agent was sent to retrieve the Golem shem from the errant golemancers, Ishmael intervened. Against orders! He fought the agent. And I’m here to get the shem he took…”
“You have the shem?!” I exclaimed, shoving everything else they said aside. Job comes first. “The Crusaders have been contracted to retrieve it. Give it!”
Angels be damned! I had a job to fulfil. And, despite my anarchism, I was pretty afraid of the Three Point Line not having any golems to back it up. I’d take the Council over the Empire any day.
Ishmael shook his head.
“I tried to stop Bez from taking it. But he overpowered me, thus my injury, and left. I thought he rendezvoused with you. I…I thought you were here to bring me back.”
Ariel looked taken aback. Despite her perfection, she seemed eerily human.
“You…you didn’t kill Bez?”
“Why would I do that? He’s my brother!” The reverence Ishmael had was replaced by sincere shock and outrage.
“I would never harm him!”
Ariel rubbed her chin, emanating worry. I couldn’t help but feel my own anxiety growing. If a celestial being was worried, then mortals should be quaking in their boots.
“This is worrying. Very worrying. And you say he has the shem?”
Ishmael nodded.
“Then he has disappeared.” She stated, sounding calm despite the circumstances. “Disappeared with the script. I must seek him out…”
She began to turn, ignoring the rest of us.
“Wait a minute,” Conrad interjected. “Are we really going to brush over the fact that YOU…” he pointed at Ishmael, “have been spying on us? Forget moles for the cops. You’re an Inter-Realm snitch!”
“I was,” Ishmael replied, calmly. “But not any more.”
“Ishmael must be as foolish as you, Zephon.” Ariel sneered. “He chose mortals over the Realms. Like you, he couldn’t make the necessary choice. To see the bigger picture.”
Conrad’s scornful stare could melt steel beams.
“Nothing is worth a single dead innocent. Not even the fate of all realms. When we needlessly lose a single life, we have lost everything.”
Ishmael nodded. “And with that, brother, I agree.”
He stood by Conrad’s side, facing the imposing figure of Ariel. I don’t think I could have stared her in the eyes, but my ex-boss kept his angry eyes locked onto hers. And didn’t blink.
But angel-staring contest or not, I was still a bit lost.
“Ishmael…” I started.
“Please, still call me Ismail…”
“Ismail, what were you actually doing at the synagogue?”
“It’s as Ariel said. I went to stop Bez from taking the shem. I tried to explain to him that the humans…we need the script. That Hope City would fall without it.”
He shook his head.
“He didn’t care.”
“Bez is a loyal agent. That is why!” Ariel explained.
“And you,” I accused, turning on Ariel, flinching only slightly at her glow and wingspan. “What do the Seraphim want with the golem shem?”
Ariel sneered. “The mortals are rotten. The rabbi of Prague had a pure heart, with a pure need, but his descendants now grow fat off our blessings. They use the life they create to wreak devastation, and t
hey profit from it.”
She shook her head, her wings bristling as she did so.
“No. The humans do not deserve the golem script. Not anymore.”
“So, you will disarm them?” Ismail retorted. “And leave them to the darkness?”
“I see no difference between their warring states,” Ariel countered. “They can use their own weapons to fight their wars. Sticks and rocks for all I care.”
“You would care,” Conrad responded. “If you lived among them. Saw what they were capable of. What they felt. What they dreamed. We let the realms slip and allowed darkness to penetrate their realm. It is only right that we let them keep the blessings that allow them to fight this darkness. We cannot take away their magics and powers now. It would kill them!”
Conrad had been looming over Ismail before. But now they stood shoulder to shoulder against the much more imposing angel before them.
“Your time on this planet has made you blind to the greater good. The needs of the realms outweigh the needs of a small country on a small planet in a small realm.”
“Then why take away their defences?” Ismail argued. “If it is of no concern to you, then just leave them!”
“You know I cannot, Ishmael. The time has come to collect what is ours. As we delivered power to them, I have come to take it away. I am the judge and the collector. The Lion of the Seraphim. And I have judged them unworthy.”
Ismail took a step forward, his fists clenched. I had never seen him so angry. Any second, I was expecting wings to burst from his back and for him to summon up golden fire.
Before any sparks could fly, I stepped between the angels, holding my hands up diplomatically. Treth winced. I probably would have in his shoes as well. Standing between two wrathful angels couldn’t be good for my health.
“I think we can talk this out. We’re all reasonable, sentient beings here.”
Ariel snorted derisively. Seemed she disagreed. I ignored that and continued.
“Ariel, is it? You are here on a job. I understand that. I also have a job. I have agreed to find the shem and return it to the rabbis. I can’t do that if you take it from Earth. But both of us can’t do our jobs if we don’t find the shem.”
Ariel and Ismail stared daggers at each other for a second longer, until Ariel closed her eyes and gazed upon me. I don’t know if it was something she did, or if I was just that wilful, but I was able to meet her stare.
“What do you propose, Vessel?” Ariel asked, sounding resigned, and a bit bored.
“A truce. We both search for the shem, with each other’s help. When we find it, we can debate what we should truly do with it.”
“I don’t negotiate with mortals. The shem will be returned to the Host.”
“I’m not arguing with you now. But, if you want my help, as I know this city far better than you, I suspect, then you will need to agree to at least talk it out after we find it.”
Ariel contemplated my offer. She glanced at Conrad and Ismail, both now standing in solidarity. That had changed fast!
“Fine!” she finally said, almost reluctantly. She offered her hand and I accepted it. Her hand was warm. Like a pleasant fire. And the grip was firm. Unshaking. I trusted that she’d keep her end of the bargain.
But, before any of us could say anything more, Cindy burst around the corner. She didn’t even seem to see the angel as she began speaking, rapidly.
“Riaan…the chairman is on the line. He wants us to meet.”
I gritted my teeth. “More meetings? We’re at war!”
I sighed, as I realised the implications of my statement. We were at war. Which meant we needed all the help we could get.
As I contemplated what to do, Cindy and Ariel stared at one another. They didn’t say a thing. But I saw a hint of familiarity there. Did they know each other?
“Fine!” I exclaimed. “Where? When?”
“Now,” she said. “He wants as many men as we can spare. At a mustering ground in the border slums. He’s found a flesh factory. And he wants to shut it down.”
I glanced between Ariel, who looked curious, and Cindy, who was caught between curiosity and concern. Could nothing ever wait?
“Then, let’s not leave him or the Necro Lord waiting.”
Chapter 19.
Plan
“I have agreed to negotiate the fate of the shem, Vessel,” Ariel said, calmly. “But I will not interfere with mortal affairs and conflicts. I must stay here…and watch these two fugitives.”
Conrad and Ismail glanced at each other. They didn’t look frightened. Perhaps, prison sentences among the Seraphim were lenient? Perhaps, even non-existent? For an immortal, a century behind bars must be a blink of an eye.
“Fine!” I grumbled. I wasn’t going to continue arguing with this uppity celestial being.
I looked at Conrad and Ismail. “If she tries to arrest you without a trial or anything, give me a call.”
Ariel snorted, amused. She didn’t find me the least bit imposing. Realm-breach or not. Whatever that meant.
I joined Cindy, giving the three angels one last look as Conrad and Ismail glared at Ariel.
“Going to tell me what that’s all about?” Cindy asked, as we descended the stairs. She didn’t sound overly surprised. Was this becoming too normal for her?
I heard the clamour of heavy boot-steps on the bottom floor. The Crusaders were assembling. Cindy must have taken the liberty of mustering the troops for the raid on the flesh factory.
“Ismail is an angel,” I said, simply. “I thought he had stolen the Golem shem, but it turns out he likes humans and decided to stop another angel from taking the script. But, he failed and now the other angel is MIA and his boss is trying to find him and the script.”
Cindy didn’t reply. I looked at her and she didn’t look that surprised. She noticed my staring and shrugged.
“I kinda suspected that Ismail was a seraph. He knew way too much about matters that a normal wizard could not.”
“You also didn’t look that surprised to see Ariel. Do you know her? She seems to know you.”
Cindy frowned. “I have had dealings with angels. And far more angelic angels than Conrad, mind you. Ariel and I have had our dealings.”
I glowered. Cindy noticed, as we got to the bottom of the stairs. As I had expected, Crusaders stood in columns, marching out of the HQ and into assorted vehicles. It was like Athlone stadium. But this time, we had the initiative. At least, I hoped so.
“Do not judge her too harshly,” Cindy said, eyeing the Crusaders with a mix of pride and concern. “The Seraphim are not evil. Far from it.”
“She does not care if we live or die. That sounds evil to me.”
“Oh, she cares. But she won’t let us know it. The Seraphim have to guard the realms. All of them. And the space in between. And that is a lot of pressure. Too much, sometimes. Detachment is the best defence against anguish.”
I contemplated Cindy’s words, as we passed the Crusaders on either side of us.
“Sounds like a long story,” I finally said, as we were greeted by the chilly, rain-filled air. It was going to be a battle in the drenching wet, it seemed. Well, unless the flesh factory had good roofing. But slum buildings seldom did.
“It is a long story. And not for today. Today, we face a different foe.”
She creased her brow.
“Kat, you know that we will lose more of our own before this is done?”
I looked across the assorted armoured cars, vans and personal vehicles, as they were filled with the bright-eyed Crusaders, keen to avenge one of their own.
“I’ll do what I can to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I replied, knowing that was impossible.
Cindy didn’t argue. She knew I knew. But I had to lie to myself. At least, for now.
Hammond passed me, Kyong and Heather in tow. He stopped and saluted, more professionally than he ever had before. His eyes glistened. Tears, rage, and anticipation.
“We’re ready
to kill the bastard, Commander,” he said. The others nodded their assent.
I felt a chill run up my spine. But, all I could do was nod, and watch my men march towards the abyss.
***
The necro-terrorism of a few days before must have shaken Hope City to its core. Not to mention the death of Charles Montague and dozens of policemen at Athlone Stadium.
The meeting ground was an underground parking lot in Old Town. Before anyone was allowed to enter, they were screened. Intensely. This was a queue I wasn’t even allowed to skip, as I was subjected to a check for my pulse, eye-dilation, and then given a vitality scan anyway. They didn’t want any flesh puppets making it through.
But, all these precautions would do nothing against a living spy. I tried to ignore the possibility . True or false, I could do nothing about it. We had to act quickly. Spy or not, we could beat the Necro Lord to the punch.
After some odd looks from the purifier who scanned me, but reassurance that I was just special, not undead, I proceeded. Cindy was left to argue with the purifier over the effectiveness of this roadblock. Leaving me to survey the army of hunters and fully armed policemen, currently chatting soberly, drinking coffee and eating donuts. There were a lot of bad things I could say about Hope City’s police department, but catering was not one of them.
A group of Crusaders saluted, their mouths full and coffee in their hands. Their rifles and shotguns were stowed on their backs. I noted that they had axes and machetes at their sides. Good. Bullets just made a lot of undead angrier.
I saluted back and continued striding through the expanse. I had been in a similar parking lot before under similar circumstances. The first Necrolord case. But, this time, it was different. It had been a motley assortment of hunters back then. But now, the parking lot was full to bursting with Crusaders, Puretide agents and cops that were armed enough to be considered soldiers.
Truth be told, I didn’t know the details of this operation. But Cindy had given the order for us to get involved. And even if she hadn’t, I didn’t think I could keep the Crusaders back. Even those who had never known Busani wanted to kill the Necro Lord. And, honestly, I couldn’t blame them.
Cursed Earth (Kat Drummond Book 12) Page 15