"I don’t suppose you two are interested in a parlay?” I asked, gesturing airily at the two dead operatives.
All the miniature Host returned was a warning groan. Then, before I could say anything else, one of them took a booming step forward. A sound like a dying tuba resounded directly into my ear, making my vision swim with tears. I didn’t even check. I knew my ears would be bleeding.
I couldn’t hear anything else over the tinnitus, not even my own resigned cursing as I shucked my layers, pinwheeling with a dizzying loss of motor control. I wasn’t sure if I would be more susceptible to their voices in demon form or out of it, but if I finished the fight quickly enough, I would shoulder through any damage.
I couldn’t let them take advantage of Ke’lev. He would be my only protection once I sloughed off my oni skin.
I just hoped I could finish in time for the mirror to frost over and break him out of the hypnosis. Judging by the enemy angels’ attention, I knew they weren’t going anywhere near the mirror-like spread, so it’s not like I could lure them in at this point. I’d blown my load on that one party trick and now I was belly-up and exposed.
My fault. My consequences.
The furnace within me was always there, like embers smoldering under ash, but when I tapped into it then, it was like throwing gasoline on those dormant coals. Without additional fuel, I knew I wouldn’t hold shape for long, but I didn’t need long. I just needed enough.
Hang on, Ke’lev. I’ll give you a window.
I didn’t know what the transformation looked like to others. The only ones who’d ever seen me change were either dead or disinclined to share. From my perspective, it was like shrinking the vastness of the world to fit.
In a few seconds, the ground dropped away and the cool touch of the landscape disappeared. Brass armor plates slid out of their places under my reddening skin to settle over bulging muscle like the interlocking deflectors on a tank--or the scales of a dragon.
Tusks and fangs fed out of my snarling lips, slightly hampered by the reshaping of my mouth. The heaviness of the horns spiraling out from my forehead wasn’t unlike the even weight of a crown. Nestled between my horns' roots, a third eye opened, helping me to see the true nature of things without additional effort.
The two seraphim before me, now eye-level with my own regard, were apoplectic with shock, two dozen bulging eyes roving over me with affronted wariness. But there was fear there too. I could smell it like a heavenly musk under the heady stink of their bastardized pride.
Where Ke’lev saw demons, he saw purpose. But these seraphim were clearly wayward, pompous, and self-important. When was the last time they’d seen, let alone fight demons? Or were they inexperienced enough--recently upgraded like Es and Tyr--that they hadn’t yet had the privilege?
Oh, I live for that look, I thought with pleasure.
Baring claws, I lunged for them. Lefty was a tangle of barbed flesh and razors, but I ignored the worst of the hug his grapple offered and charged inward, stepping on most of his tentacles in the process. Using them to drag him down, I reared up and brought my clasped fists down on top of his bird-like head, crushing the fan of eyes and mouths into the cradle of his rib cage. The body of the seraph tipped to the side as I wrenched my arms free, spewing a fountain of warm wetness that painted the scenery with an artist's whimsy.
Oh shit. No.
The blood splashed me from cloven toe to curled horn and I reveled in it. But in the time it took to think about tasting the coppery glaze coating my lips, the other seraph had gotten the good idea to put some distance between us, lashing out with one of its blade-like fan of feathers while two of its hand-like feet slipped freely onto the ice, skewing its center of gravity as its legs splayed out.
Not warriors then, I decided with a laugh before ducking just shy of the wing's lethal edge. The seraph was slowly wobbling and sliding its way toward Ke'lev, but its eyes were all fixed on me.
The blood on my lips tasted like dew and honey; like a cool glass of water in the desert; like a post-coital cigarette. I crouched down next to the seraph's fallen kin, feeling around its body for its other living weapon. The headless seraph was still alive, still trying to orient itself without sight or sound. I thought of a crushed beetle, still twitching because it hasn't realized it's dead.
Its ripped grappling arm limply flopped at me, but I flicked it aside and crunched down on its main hand, twisting the straight blade off the end. It was like pulling apart baked poultry joints. The image of a wishbone that popped into my head had me grinning.
Stop!
Curiosity took over sense, and I suckled at the ends of the blade hand I had and, again, it was unlike any food I'd ever tasted--like I'd been waiting my whole life for such a feast.
I understood. I understood why Haha couldn't stop. And, while I was sure, even in that moment, that my future self would be revolted and horrified… crouched in the snow with warm flesh tearing between my teeth, I felt like my curiosity had finally been rewarded with satisfaction.
I'd never had a real home before. Houses and safehouses, sure, but never a place I'd harken back to in a time of emotional need.
Eating angels felt like coming home--comfort, safety, and belonging wrapped up in sunshine, satiation, and warmth.
The other seraph said something, an objection or a curse, but I was beyond caring. The sound didn't register as more than a whisper to my ears--a fearful whimper.
If I was full oni, would they have stood a chance? If I were less demon, would I? In the end, there are only those who have power, and those who don't.
At that moment, covered in the scintillating gore of his compatriot, the rock-paper-scissors song of the universe was just a fun little reference in the back of my mind, like a nursery rhyme. It was a lesson about weaknesses and strengths that only applied to children who hadn't yet figured out there were adult exceptions to the rules.
The seraph had finally discovered that stabbing its wings into the ice would give it better stability, but by then I was already rushing toward it, leaping from the snowy banks and into its front where it bowed like a tree in a gale. Ice shattered and screeched, limbs flailed. I bore it to the ground and had my teeth in its neck, on its shoulder, around a forearm.
My claws slashed through its eyes like scissors through paper. Fists the size of Volkswagens crushed its fanged protests like rocks on scissors. And the whole of my body smothered the seraph's attempts to rise and regroup, its bones breaking in its struggle. Paper covers rock.
The seraph had no power over me.
I was on cloud nine, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities. With this power, no one could ever stop me. No one would ever hurt me again. No one could touch me. I was invincible.
Feeding on the little god was euphoria-inducing and decadent. But I also knew, even then, it couldn't last. Every high ended. What went up, came down. That's physics. That's logic. That's reason.
I knew all that, but knowing didn't stop me from turning toward the last seraph in the clearing, the one currently staring down at their frosting reflection. Knowing reason didn't stop me from circling the lean morsel like a predator would prey.
Where Ke'lev sees demons, he sees purpose.
Where I saw angels, I saw meat.
No! Stop!
But then, humans had to get involved. That should be the slogan for creation, I huffed internally. I heard them crunching and tramping through the forest like they thought they owned it.
Nuisances. Vermin. Lesser. Not fit for consumption.
Absolutely. Back off.
But waste not, I thought. I left the seraph for the moment, content that this little selection of approaching appetizers would make it even more of the dessert than it already was.
Snap out of it! No!
Little things, humans. So strong. So fragile.
Friends! Not food!
So stringy.
“Dev!” My head swung toward their point man.
“That thing is boss?!” The little one.
“Holy fuck. He tore them apart.” The tallest.
I could've eaten them in order of height or mass. Or, maybe I would go from darkest to light. If I incapacitated them, I could make a sandwich. I wasn't sure about the clothes, but maybe it would be like the lettuce on a burger--just there for color and texture.
Stop this. Reign it in! You've done it before. You can do this!
The little one said, “I'm gonna be… Oh shit, there are the other two. Yeah, gonna be sick, gimme a sec.”
Pointman made an irritated sound. “Easy! Take it easy! Dev, if you can understand me, Dare blinked back to their house. We've got the other two back at the pier. We were gonna question them, but that means you've gotta, uh… un-demon-ify.”
“Un-demon-ify?”
“Bardo, go hold Solverg's hair. I've got this.”
Humans are so fucking loud.
Stop this!
I opened my mouth to tell the chatty one that he would be first just for the sake of a quieter meal, but then a white arm grappled me from behind and someone whispered into my ear, “Iskariot.”
Something deep in me snapped like a guitar string, making my hands and feet leaden with frozen dread.
Ke'lev. Thank fuck.
Dragging me backward, it--no, he-- planted feet into the backs of my knees. I went hoof over horn as the seraph wheeled me over his shoulder, brushing metal feathers against me that bent out of the way, exposing their flat, shiny sides.
Pretty, some part of me thought before I felt my head crack into unforgiving ice. We went down with a boom. As the snow and chips cleared, my instinct was to fight back, bite, dominate. But something in me forced the rest to keep still, bare teeth and growl through the discombobulation.
The seraph was highlighted in the dying red light of a road flare. Two if his eyes were squinted, shot through. The torn ends of his khopesh arm were already reforming into a hand. Part of me wanted to rip into it again just to see what it was made of, but another part of me, the part trying to force itself up from the depths, didn't want to look at it at all.
He just needed time to heal. The others will heal too if we don't get to them.
There was shouting at the edge of the ice--voices I knew, or thought I knew--but they weren't the seraph's.
The angel, made for killing demons, remade his grappling arm into a gauntlet and pressed down on my chestplate. He called to me in a hushed voice, like I was some wounded animal, “Erastis.”
Another string snapped. Another tether holding me to the shape, gone. I tried to warn him about the angels but then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of light and then another. How did they know? Who told them? Did Dare have something to do with it? Or did they put my handiwork and the seraph's arm together and make an executive decision?
The seraph, Ke'lev, drew closer and covered my third eye with his renewed hand, chanting softly, like a resolution, “Iudas, epistrofí.”
With a demon's name, you have command over it.
The bloodlust, the fury, the impatience all faded to white noise in the back of my mind. The world expanded and the sky darkened as the flare finally ran cold and damp. The freezing snow and wind bit into me like nature's teeth, tearing me in a hundred different directions of sensation. Ke'lev turned into a blocking silhouette above me, briefly illuminated in whites and blues as someone's flashlight beam hit his form. But he didn't move to retreat. He shielded me from the worst of the cold, then tucked me into him after someone threw a jacket over me.
On the way back to the lake house, the roar of the wind was replaced by the rumble of a generator muffled behind layers and layers of dense tissue. Ke'lev's heartsong wasn't a beat so much as a never ending crescendo.
As an Ouwarawa, Ke'lev was smaller than me, but fascinatingly intricate, like a bio-mechanical wind-up watch or automaton. Remembering him staring at the ice, my hands had itched to peel back his layers--expose the life-giving flesh under the cold exoskeleton.
Back in my human skin, Ke'lev was as he'd always been: a tower of might, an impersonal sanctuary, a bastion.
I told myself I preferred the latter perception.
Could I have fought him? The answer came on the heels of my question: Not without eating him.
Save for a dull soreness on the back of my head from laying on the ice, I didn't feel any other pain at all.
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Ke'lev and I were left alone to get cleaned up and dressed. The power came back on an hour later, startling me. Before I could muster the mental fortitude to go back downstairs to join the soft discussion before the fireplace, Chancery met me outside my room and said, “It's almost daylight. We'll get together to talk Rider slaying after everyone's gotten some sleep.”
“What happened to the other two operators--the ones you had on the pier?”
Chancery gave me a befuddled look. “I was hoping you would tell me. They're dead.”
“I'm omnipotent, not omnipresent,” I drolled with crossed arms.
“Ha ha,” he replied dryly. “In that case, I dunno. We haven't moved ‘em. We can look in the morning.” He winced. “Or afternoon--whenever. It's not like they're going anywhere.”
Even Ke'lev looked like he wanted to say something about famous last words, but neither one of us pressed Chancery further on that front. I asked, “What happened with Dare?”
He snorted. “You were right. He loves to hear himself talk. But I think outside summoning things he shouldn't and being a dramatic twat, he's not a fighter. As soon as it seemed like we weren't all that impressed with his talk of eternal torment, he poofed himself away as the bullets started flying.”
That tracked. I nodded, bidding him to continue.
“As anticlimactic as it sounds, I was expecting the two we had to keep the firefight going, but they realized that without trees or cover, they were sitting ducks. We got a surrender out of ‘em after they ran dry. In hindsight, surrender was probably in their marching orders. Something came out of them after we had them trussed to the pier. The lights disappeared into the eastern copes.” He gave me an exasperated look, but didn't launch into a lecture about my not staying put. Instead all he said was, “I'm glad Ke'lev was there to talk you down. You looked, uh… You weren't dead on your feet like last time. Are you alright?”
Chancery didn't know about the price of going oni and I was reluctant to reveal more than was necessary. I waved a half-hearted hand. “I'm as healed as I'll ever be.” I twisted my right forearm in front of us as I mumbled, “It didn't force the bullet out, so I guess even this power has limits.”
He frowned at me. “Why didn't you heal after the card house? Or New York for that matter?”
Chancery was too observant for his own good. I gave him another hand wave. “The conditions were different.”
“Conditions.” He shook his head. “Well, when the truth becomes relevant, be sure to loop me in, Boss. That is, if you still trust me.”
I offered him a small smile. “I trust you with my life, Remus.” Then in a quieter voice, I added, “But there are some things I've got to work out on my own before I tell you more. I don't want you operating on hunches and theory.”
“But Sun Tzu gets a free pass?”
I laughed. “You got me there.”
Mollified for the time being, he nodded at my door. “Get some sleep, Dev. We'll reconvene around the war table at noon.”
Behind a closed bedroom door, I said to Ke'lev on a breath, “That could've gone worse.”
He was giving me a stony look.
“With the seraphim, I mean.”
He still didn't look pleased.
“I know you say you signed up for this, but I bet you weren't expecting to be on the side of an angel eater.”
He relaxed slightly.
“I didn't think… My father warned me about eating in that form, but I didn't know that eating anything non-human would… I almost ate you.” Before I could verbally stumble through anything that sounded like an apology, the seraph grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into a hug.
To clarify, before coming to the lake house I'd never been a very physical person. Open affection, even affection toward wives and brothers-in-arms, was something that the group and my own circle by extension looked down on. To want closeness was a weakness and to engage in it was seen as indulgence.
The people around me, with the exception of my father, had been giving me a lot of leeway lately due to my condition, but I could tell it bothered Chancery that I was so open with Ke'lev. Maybe he made it make sense in his head as a comfort thing, but I wasn't deluded enough to believe that that meant he approved--or would continue to pretend to approve once we weren't constantly under threat.
So instead of pushing him away, I leaned into the embrace. If that was his way of forgiving me, then I'd be a stubborn idiot not to soak it in. I was just glad he could read me so well; understand what I needed without taking advantage of it.
None of my other guardians had been so attentive, nor as involved. It made me wonder what else made him so different from his kindred.
I pulled away to get ready for sleep. I eyed the regimen of painkillers and antibiotics on my bedside table and swept the plastic bottle army into the top drawer with a bit of a flourish. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I took stock of myself and had to quell the impulsive urge to jump around the room like a kid on Christmas morning. Midori bosses don't frolick, not even after they've been miraculously healed of all their ills.
Adelaide Walker wasn't just going to get the shock of her life. I was going to shove the bitter pill of Karma down her throat in front of whatever goon squad she brought with her.
“I remember when I thought Walker was all talk. Egg on my face,” I said to myself. Ke'lev, resting a hip against the windowsill, cocked his head at me curiously. “Once bitten, twice shy…” I rubbed the callous-like tissue over the bullet in my arm. “But she wouldn't come here if she thought I was a threat. I hope Dare doesn't warn her off. I hope he tells her to bring more men. I hope she comes in, guns blazing. I hope she gives an inspirational speech to her lieutenants. I hope she taps into her main-character energy and smirks when she sees me… I hope she thinks she can win.”
I wasn't sure if Ke'lev understood all of what I was saying, but he smiled like we were sharing a joke.
“I don't want to make an example out of her. Her sudden absence from the city will be enough. In the future, when people ask whatever happened to the West Riders, I don't want there to be a definitive answer. The Midori Group's president wanted peace, they'll say, and he achieved it.”
I flopped back on the bed and I heard Ke'lev shift position. “I know. It sounds nice when I say it out loud. But making it real will take some doing and some temperance, because if I don't hold back, I might end up like my mother.”
The silence that followed was like an invitation rather than a conclusion.
I scratched at my stomach, absently wondering if my next movement was going to be full of gold flakes and rainbows. The thought made me wince. To distract myself from any more morbid imaginings, I asked, “Why were the seraph afraid? You didn't run from the demons. What made fighting me so different?”
Ke'lev blinked slowly.
I sat up. “Was it because of my human blood?”
He frowned. Maybe.
“Was it because I wasn't afraid of them?”
He smirked. His nod was adamant.
That got a chuckle out of me. “Were you afraid of me?”
His answering smile wounded me.
“Come on, I was terrifying. I destroyed four seraphim. That's gotta count for some major street cred in your world. I'm bigger and badder. In a straight fight, it wouldn't even be a contest. I'd rip your spindly little wings off and beat you to death with them.”
Ke'lev patted my head with an amused grin on his face, thus destroying my newly minted ego without uttering a single fucking word.
I sighed.
He sighed.
“Go to bed,” I grumbled.
When he crawled under the blanket beside me, I pulled the bedsheet up between us and leveraged an arm under it. “It was an expression.” With a grunt of effort, I rolled him off the bed using the sheet, surprising myself and him, judging by the stunned look on his face as he hit the carpet with a thud.
I tried not to laugh. “G'night Ke'lev,” I said, turning over.
He sighed from the floor.
He didn't un-burrito himself.
I like to think I bruised his pride too.
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After Chancery was sure our dog pack was fed and well rested, he opened ceremonies with open palms. “Provided the explosives haven't been fucked with, we can blow any chopper that comes flying in. Bardo?”
“Transmitter's still transmitting. As long as they don't have a bug finder, we can punch it in a pinch.”
“Or open with it,” I said around a cigarette.
Chancery looked surprised. “We don't have an answer after that though.”
“We won't need one,” I said confidently. “She was expecting magic as a last resort. Dare witnessed our last resort himself and he's got nothing but body bags to show for it. They're not expecting conventional retaliation. They think we're on the ropes. Let's lean into that.”
Solberg smiled because he realized something before everyone else for once. “We've also got something they don't.”
“Mind sharing with the class?” Chancery bade.
Bardo started laughing as Solberg launched into a convoluted plan to use the tactical horses to launch an offensive on the house before Adelaide arrived, then position ourselves around the property in a pincer attack, firing dual-rifles from the backs of our small equestrian outfit. He mimed the entire scenario and concluded with, “She'll never see it coming. The irony! The Riders’ll be taken down by actual riders!”
Bardo slow-clapped while Chancery gave me a long-suffering look. “Boss?”
I shrugged. “Well, he's right about one thing. She wouldn't expect it.”
Chancery asked, “Any of you know how to ride?” I raised my hand. Bardo covered his mouth. Solberg deflated. My second nodded. “Opposition rests.”
Bardo spoke to me in an undertone, “You do have the perfect build for a jockey… What? It's a compliment, Boss”
“We just have to make sure Dare is there to greet her on the helipad,” I said, sweeping a hand. “Multi-kill.”
“How do we do that?” Bardo asked.
I put out my smoke. “Let's have a look at the guys on the pier.”
We all poured onto the porch after getting outfitted. Chancery made tutting noises when I told him I'd lost my crampons.
They'd leaned the couple against the heater, tied-up back-to-back, but the heater wasn't running.
Overnight the two men had turned into popsicles. They were fuzed to the pier, their faces contorted and fixed into expressions of open-mouthed horror. Solberg had a hand to his mouth as I came forward to inspect them.
On their exposed foreheads, the Mark of Solomon was blackened with dried blood. “Dare killed them,” I said softly.
Chancery rubbed his own forehead absently as he said, “Lavelle called sorcerers of Solomon paragons… but Dare's been doing a lot of non-paladin-like shit. Isn't he afraid this kinda stuff will endanger his own soul? Or at least his standing in the… sorcerers guild?”
Sorcerers guild? Solberg mouthed to himself silently.
“Maybe he's a means justify the ends kinda guy?” Bardo suggested.
“Both of you could be right,” I said, which made them share a look with one another. “Or Dare doesn't believe in his own bloodline's purity.”
“I guess it makes sense that even the magic-side of people have their agnostics,” Solberg said very wisely and I smiled at him.
“So, he's going to Hell. How does that help us now?” Chancery asked.
“It means the sorcerers guild, or white-collar equivalent, won't seek revenge on us when all this is over,” I said.
“Oh, that is a silver lining,” Bardo deadpanned. “The list of people who don't want the boss dead gets longer every day.”
We went back inside after that to read up on Detective Burke's ID-check results for the dead four-man team. “We're lucky they all had wallets on them,” Bardo said absently as he sat down and stole a cigarette out of my pack on the table. “But it still doesn't tell us how to draw out Dare.”
I motioned for him to pass me a cig too as I said, “They're all Riders. It makes sense that they wouldn't care about authorities identifying them. They probably thought they weren't his cannon fodder.”
“Dare… is not a very good boss,” Solberg said. “Even our greenies don't spend manpower like that. It's a waste, let alone disrespectful. And killing his guys after they were captured? What could they have told us that we don't already know?”
Chancery opened the sliding door with a grimace as Bardo nodded through a halo of smoke. “The only thing I wanted to get out of ‘em was how much they were being paid, and Dare killing them gave me the answer.”
Solberg made a question sound.
Bardo smirked. “Not enough.”
Chancery rolled his eyes as he said, verbally siding with Solberg for once, “I can't believe I'm saying this, but Midori at least knows a useful gun's worth is more than the resources it takes to dispose of it prematurely.”
Bardo put his hand on his forehead. “Alright, which one of you put something in Chance's coffee again?”
Solberg made a thoughtful sound. “He's right though. Midori doesn't throw away people like the Riders do. I still don't see how they can recruit so many to their side.”
“Prolly ‘cause there aren't recruits old enough to warn the others off,” Bardo said darkly. “They don't take fingers like Midori does. They just take heads.”
Solberg paled at the mention of fingers and after a look at Chancery he looked at me and swallowed before saying, “Boss… before we plan, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about the mountain lion.”
I waved him off.
“No, wait! I… Chancery said what I did… If I'd done that to even my own underlings in the city, I'd be on a bus. He said I should offer my hand.”
“In marriage?” I asked over the bob of my smoke, feigning ignorance.
Chancery made an aghast noise that made Solberg flinch. Bardo stifled a laugh behind a cigarette-laden palm.
“Chancery said you should take a finger,” Solberg clarified.
I buried the impulse to glare at Chancery and took a deep breath instead, blowing out a stream of smoke in his direction. “That's idiotic. No one died. No one got hurt. Apology accepted.”
“Dev,” Chancery said in a warning tone, but I shot him a look and he swallowed whatever he was going to say.
I held up my left hand, four fingers splayed out. “People have lost fingers for less, I'll grant you, but that doesn't make it right or honorable.” I flipped Chancery off and he looked skyward. Tucking my left hand away, I said to Solberg, “I didn't run from this when I should have. I was sixteen when I had to bind it. I chiseled it off in front of the old guard after Mister Montenegro ordered its delivery to his office.”
Bardo found something interesting about the kitchen sink as Chancery leaned outside to enjoy the fresh air. Solberg's mouth dropped open. “Monty called for it?”
“Old Man Monty's part of a different generation,” Chancery said over his shoulder.
“An old breed,” I agreed absently.
“He's got the pedigree of a long lineage of assholes,” Bardo told the sink.
“Watch your mouth,” Chancery warned without heat.
“He's not wrong,” I said, smiling.
Solberg asked, “Was it really so bad it deserved a finger? What did you say? Were you right? I find it hard to believe he'd call for it if it wasn't deserved…”
I keep forgetting how young he is. I also keep forgetting how sanitized Monty's reputation is among those who don't know him. “It wasn't about that,” I said.
Monty had smiled when I put the chisel on the back of my pinky. I'd looked toward my father, waiting for him to end the lesson, but Chichi-we had simply bridged his fingers over his mouth and refused to look at me.
I told Solberg, “It was about the pecking order. My father needed to show he didn't have favorites. Not even his heir is exempt from the hierarchy.”
Ke'lev appeared beside me at that moment and I looked up to see what had his attention, but he was frowning down at me.
Bardo muttered, “Even the crusader sensed fuckery from where he was keeping vigil. He's come to investigate. You better not show him where Old Man Monty lives, or he might exact retribution for you.” He went silent after that, presumably because Chancery was glaring at him again, but my attention was on the guardian.
Ke'lev held out his hand. I tried to hand him my cigarette, but he motioned at my left hand and I gave in with reluctance, putting my digits out limply.
He turned my hand over in his and made a dissatisfied face that had me smirking. “We don't grow our pieces back when they're cut off,” I said.
“It would defeat the purpose if we could,” Chancery said off-handedly.
Solberg, in a lighter mood now that he knew he'd be keeping his finger, said, “Well, whatever the reason… I know this isn't going to score me points with Mister Chancery, but I'm glad you're the boss, Boss.” What he didn't say was that he was glad he wasn't under someone like Monty.
“I know this also isn't going to score points with Chancery,” Bardo began with a grin, “but Monty was a fucker for taking your finger. He made an enemy out of me that day. If he hadn't, the card house would have clinched it.”
“Why am I suddenly the opinion police?” Chancery griped.
“Suddenly?” Bardo stated.
“They mean you're too polite, Remus,” I said with a smile. “An old guard isn't here to defend himself, so you will, out of tradition. Take it as a compliment. Without people like you to remind us of protocol, we'd be no better than Adelaide's goons.”
Solberg blurted, “No matter what, I'll do better the next time, Boss. I swear it.”
“I know you will.” I nodded at him.
Chancery narrowed his eyes at me as he said, “You know… out of all the old gen, you and Kazumi both had chips on your shoulders the size and shape of Montenegro now that I think about it.”
I shrugged at him, then gave him a pointed look to drop it while in front of the others.
But Chancery's brain was doing Chancery Brain things. His slow smile pinched the corners of his eyes, but barely touched anything else. “When all is said and done, what are you planning to do when we get back home, Dev?”
“Yeah, with Adelaide out of the picture, there might be some power grabbing on the street level. Aren't you gonna get involved?” Bardo asked, sincerely curious.
I finally managed to get my hand back from Ke'lev as he retreated to the foyer. I said, “You three might get assigned to keep peace on the beat, but I'm gonna take advantage of the rest of my sabbatical. I have some loose ends that need knotting.” Or burning.
Solberg was genuinely non-plussed after all that talk about me being his favorite boss. “You're gonna leave your father and all the oldies still in charge? I thought that was a temporary thing.”
“What will your father have to say about that plan?” Chancery asked.
I put out my smoke on the tray between Bardo and I. “Chichi-we will have his own fallout to deal with. He'll appreciate my leave of absence for what it is.”
“As long as he doesn't take it as a leave of your senses,” Chancery quipped. “For what it is… What does that even mean? You sound like the madame when you say cryptic shit like that.” Of course he knew I was up to something, and he knew it had something to do with Monty. I'd mentioned the old enforcer by name too many times. Besides, he wouldn't have asked if he didn't already have ten scenarios running behind his eyes.
I only grunted in response, but then I snapped a finger. “That's how we get Dare to the pad.” I had everyone's attention as I announced succinctly: “Cryptic shit.”
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We were already geared up by the time night descended. Ke'lev had left to deliver my message to Cameron Dare as soon as we got word from the northern firewatch that a chopper had gotten permission to fly-over. The bird was only forty minutes away.
While waiting for the angel's signal from across the lake, Chancery had been trying to get me to tell him what I'd written to Dare.
I sighed. “For the last time… You. Don't. Want. To. Know.”
Bardo, in that time, had been trying to keep his laughter in check, to varying degrees of failure.
Solberg, for his part, had been keeping his binoculars on the horizon.
Chancery finally threw up a glove in a forget-you gesture. “Fine. At least tell me after.”
I shared a look with Bardo that made the enforcer open his face like a PEZ dispenser and cackle into the sky.
Chancery glowered between the two of us, his look laden with jealousy at being left out of a joke.
I decided to have mercy on him just as Solberg announced sharply, “Two o'clock! I got eyes on the bird.”
Bardo grunted in mild surprise as a bright light across the lake shot up and then canted toward us in an arch. “Our crusader's got some miraculous timing.”
Ke'lev, in fully armored regalia, appeared above us in a flash and touched down, throwing snow and debris in every direction that had my men throwing up forearms and gloves. I caught myself grinning and relaxed as Solberg said, “His wings are quick like a hummingbird's, but they're so small. How's he stay airborne? Magic?”
“How do bees?” Chancery asked.
“Chancery, have I told you you're too smart for your own good?” I asked.
My second gave me a chagrined look, but he was pleased. “Not today.”
“Get a room,” Bardo mumbled, then held up the transmitter. “On your mark, Boss.”
Ke'lev shed his armor for his human shape in a couple of moments, shimmying his shoulders with an obvious look of discomfort. Then he hopped up the deck steps as I asked him, “Dare's on the pad?”
He nodded.
“No one in the house?”
He nodded.
“Good boy.”
He grinned. Chancery groaned.
Solberg passed me his binocs after I opened a hand at him. Through the expensive viewfinder, I saw a black commercial helicopter coming in low, just skirting above the tops of the trees, kicking up snow in its wake which obscured some of our sight lines. I couldn't see any identifying marks in the darkness, but it wasn't using any service lights. Hilarious, I thought. As if turning off the safety lights will prevent the noise it's making. Did they not think we'd be keeping tabs on any craft coming in and out? Adelaide, your hubris is showing.
“I have a confession,” I said, handing the binoculars back to Solberg. Chancery and Ke'lev flanked me on either side, thinking my words were only meant for either of them. I would have been annoyed if it wasn't so funny that they refused to acknowledge one another's interloping. “I told Dare about the explosives.” Before Chancery could rage at me, I flicked a hand and ordered, “Blow it.”
Bardo punched Solberg. “Mozeltov!”
Click!
Across the water, the helicopter took its time alighting on the pad.
Click-click!
I had to remember not to hold my breath.
Solberg cleared his throat.
Chancery coughed into an elbow.
Bardo made a humming sound as he clicked the button another dozen times to no effect.
Chancery growled at me in a quiet voice, “Now you've done it, Dev. You told Dare and now--”
Tink.
BOOOM!
A fire ball the size of a whale boiled into the sky. Chunks of stuff rocketed outward from the helipad and half the mansion on the other side was immolated or rubble-ized. The sounds of glass and stone shattering reverberated across the lake like a distant volley of fireworks.
My men flinched away from the scene, cursing and laughing at each other's expenses. Ke'lev kept his eyes on the horizon, his expression fixed and focused.
Ba-BOOM!
Across the lake, the helicopter's rotors were blasted sky-high as a secondary explosion peppered the helipad with another round of twisted metal. The hellish surface of the lake was colored with beautiful russet and saffron-colored flames. Shadows waved and wafted across the frosted floor like flitting dancers.
I wiped at my nose and said over the distant gushing and rumble of noise, “Let's go confirm we didn't blow up civilians, shall we?”
“We just saw a helicopter crash,” Chancery agreed reasonably. “It would be irresponsible not to go check for survivors.”
“I've got my first aid kit,” Bardo said, pulling the action back on his pistol. “Boss?”
Solberg passed me my Glock and I made sure to chamber a round as well before holstering it. I said, “Solberg, you've got the radio in case we have to call the ranger station?”
Solberg tugged at the strap across his coat as he nodded ecstatically. “Recovery will have to wait until after the snow clears, but I'm sure they'll appreciate a courtesy call after we get an inventory.”
“Ke'lev,” I said, knowing that he was listening even though he didn't turn toward my voice, “Make sure none of them surprise us.” It was a needless order, but I felt like I was leaving him out of the operation if I didn't say anything.
He waited until we were all off the porch before following me close behind.
As we got closer to the wreckage, the roar of the fire was in full force and we had to use hand signals just to communicate with each other.
Bardo found Dare's corpse first. The sorcerer had been in the middle of making some sort of magic circle with his own blood when we'd mashed the button, which probably accounted for the delay in the explosion. But without a witch or an arson investigator, there was no way to know if his efforts had been in vain or not. Bardo shot him in the head once to be sure.
Other bodies were confirmed dead, but couldn't be recovered from the fire. In total, Adelaide had brought nine men with her, including what looked like a witch doctor, if the scar tissue on the man's vacant face was any indicator. Those that had a head received what Dare got too.
At long last, we recovered the pilot and co-pilot, but we still hadn't come upon Walker. It was Solberg and his keen eye that spotted the blood trail leading north into the shadow of the pines. Before he could tell the others, I pulled him close and said in his ear, “Make sure everyone else is dead. I'll send Ke'lev to handle this.”
“You said he couldn't hurt humans,” he rightly accused.
I shook him a little as I said, “Guns don't count.” Then I pushed him away and signaled for him to hurry the fuck up.
But Solberg stared at me for a second, as if weighing whether to offer his help or confront me over the thin explanation. At long last, he shook himself free of the indecision and ran to help Chancery with something.
Ke'lev was at my side a second later as if he'd been reading our lips. Lit by the flames behind us, his face looked sinister. His expression was troubled.
I motioned for him to follow me as I kept my weapons low and ready.
Following the bloody drag marks was easy even in the semi-darkness. It helped that every time I managed to get off course, Ke'lev would redirect me with a shoulder tap or chin tip. Our traversal was quick and quiet. I didn't struggle to breathe--didn't stumble--didn't falter.
I still hesitated when we found our quarry sitting up against a tree. Adelaide was covered in scrapes, bruising, and smoke. Her hair was a matted mess of sweat and blood. The helmet she'd been wearing was discarded next to her, blackened on one side. Her breath rattled with each intake. She had her brother, Teddy, pulled into her lap. He was the source of the majority of the blood. His eyes stared up at the canopy listlessly. He was still barely breathing.
Adelaide managed a small smirk as she realized it was me coming out of the shadows and into the dim light of the clearing. Her voice was hoarse with damage and emotion. “A fucking trap… Kazumi used to say you were ballsy… I was an idiot for not listening to her.”
“That makes two of us,” I whispered as I crouched down next to her. Ke'lev slipped by me and started removing her weapons from her person. She didn't fight him, just watched me. She didn't have much on her. A box-cutter, a small twenty-two handgun, and a karambit hit the snow at my feet.
She wiped at her bloody nose with the back of a fingerless glove. She leaned back against the tree as she said, “I was an idiot about a lot of shit. I thought… I thought I could use Monty like a stepping stone.” She huffed humorlessly. Her chin quivered. “But he was just using the Riders, wasn't he?”
“To what end?”
“I dunno,” she said, but it wasn't convincing. She winced. Then she said, “I guess if I need you to trust me, I should at least level with you… Monty wants Midori. He wants the Stewards out of it. Did you know? About the Stewards?”
“I'm one of them, Addy.”
Her expression turned crestfallen for a second, then she sneered as she said, “It figures… We always were destined to be on opposite sides.”
“Not true.”
“Yes! I wanted… I wanted to be useful someday… to the group.” That surprised me and I couldn't keep the look off my face. She nodded with a sad smile. “I know… It was Monty that picked me up after high school. He told me it was possible for a girl from the wrong side to join up, but we had to get rid of the poison in your dad's ranks…” She sniffed again even as a trickle of blood made its way down to her lips. “I just wanted me and my boys to be a part of something bigger… better… good, maybe. Monty told me I'd have to get dirty to prove I could get clean… but Kazumi was getting too close.”
“You should've come to me.”
“I did… but Chancery was always blocking me. I could never get you alone.” She looked toward Ke'lev. “Seems I still can't… but at least this one doesn't fucking talk over me.”
I took a deep breath. “You know, Addy, I feel like I've heard this woe-is-me speech from you before.”
She shivered, either from the cold, the shock, or my words. It didn't matter. Her true reaction was on her unguarded face. She said, “Kouji, I'm not the monster you think I am.”
I got to my feet and the sudden movement made Teddy groan from his position. He fumbled for his sister's hand as he seemed to come to his senses, but he didn't say anything, just locked his temporarily lucid, bloodshot eyes on me. Of course he was afraid. He was an animal. He'd always had sharper instincts than his sister.
I hadn't forgotten it was his bullet that had killed my sister; his bullets that had nearly killed me; his bullets that had pushed me into my own animal-like state.
And Adelaide was still on her shit, selling me very persuasive points with her soulful brown eyes and her quivering chin.
I didn't care if she was Monty's pawn or someone else's. She'd had a choice. Several choices, in fact. And at each turn, she'd chosen poorly. If I let her go, she'd just turn around and bite me again--intentionally or while “under orders”.
She saw the change in me too late.
I leveled my gun at her. Teddy whimpered, pawing at her for attention. She pushed him away and he curled up on himself. She got on her knees, her teeth bared.
She spilled word vomit on my feet. “Please, Kouji, you know me! It doesn't have to be like this... We can turn this on Monty. You know I never would have moved on you if I really had a choice. I deserve a second chance, don't I? Use me. My men are still useful... M--My… The Riders are still--I'm still lucrative, dammit. Monty is the real enemy here. I can change! I will change! You know me!”
I did know her.
I said softly, “I did give you a second chance, remember? It involved removing two jokers from a deck.”
I pulled the trigger. Her striking face dropped into the snow and made cherry snow cones for the group to share. I cut Teddy's ensuing wails short by feeding him a bullet too.
The distant roar of the flames made me feel cleansed instead of simply empty.
Ke'lev went to their bodies and turned them over. After confirming they were dead, he looked up at me passionlessly.
“There are consequences for everything. Even good deeds. She made her choices,” I told him.
He looked back down at the meatloaf of Adelaide's face and tilted his head, assessing. I wasn't sure if he regretted standing by while a human died… or not pulling the trigger himself.
He closed his eyes as if in prayer.
“Dev!” Chancery came crashing through the trees and soon Bardo and Solberg followed him.
They took their time forming their own conclusions before Chancery clasped my shoulder with a proud look on his face. Looking, I saw my sister spit on Adelaide's open face. Then she gave me a warm smile and a wink. Even though I didn't feel taxed by the sight's use, I still let her ghost fade from view like a mirage when there was nothing left to see.
My second sighed. “It's over.”
No, I thought. Not quite.
Bardo said, “Damn. Clean shots. I wouldn't have given them that. You're a better man than me, Boss.”
No, I thought. Not quite.
Solberg said softly, “We could have brought Adelaide in though. Seems a little cold to just kill her like that.”
I smiled. “Well--”
“Don't say it!” Bardo interjected.
“--revenge is--”
“Oh, no!” Solberg yowled.
“--best served--”
“Every F-ingtime,” Chancery said.
Ke'lev put a hand over my mouth.
I made a wounded sound through the nose as my crew devolved into laughter.
Dark humor was our go-to come down tincture. God knew we'd need more of it in the coming days.
There were phone calls to be made, hands to shake, and body bags to zip up.
But Adelaide Walker was dead.
I was healed.
And I knew what had to be done as soon as I was back in my own territory.
As the boys went back and forth, trying to describe how well things had gone, how no one would believe it unless they had pictures to prove it… all I could do was put one foot in front of the other and think about bigger fish.
Ke'lev noticed my withdrawal from the group. Back at the house, he assured Chancery in his own way that he'd take care of me. He helped me out of my gear and out of my shoes. Before I knew it, the curtains had been drawn and the fireplace had been turned on.
From my spot, sitting on the edge of the bed, I said to his back, “I tried to make peace with who and what I am… At some point, I must have given up.”
Ke'lev turned just enough to put his eyes on me.
“Instead, I just want the people close to me… to never have to make the hard decisions. If I can spare them that, then maybe there is such a thing as peace.”
Ke'lev sat down beside me.
“The collection of families that act as stewards for the rest of humanity… Historically, they used to be open, public protectors. In their persecution, their hiding turned into intrigue. Intrigue turned into…” I waved a vague hand. “Dubiousness? Is there a more poetic way to say that they turned to crime in order to build the foundation of their secret empire?”
Ke'lev blinked at me.
I shook my head, laughing shortly to myself. “Am I really trying to justify the heinous actions of my ancestors to a fucking angel?” I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my hands. “I'm trying to say… We're trying to change--to be the good guys… But I don't know if it's possible.”
I met his gaze as I said, “My father did his best to put the business on the straight and narrow, but it seems I'm only good at putting that legitimacy in jeopardy by settling disputes with blood. The problem is--the truth is…” I took a ragged breath. “I don't feel guilty about doing things that way. Should I?”
Ke'lev slowly put a hand on my chest and forced me back onto the bed where I crawled back to give him room, but he didn't pursue me. Instead, he pulled the bedsheets over me and tucked them in on one side. Then he settled down next to me and draped his torso sideways across mine, pulling me close to use me as a pillow.
He shook his head against my stomach.
Chancery had once asked me how I could move on after everything that had happened to me--how I could handle what I'd done--how I could just roll off a gurney and crack on.
Ke'lev already knew the real answer.
I couldn't.
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Everything the angel learned about the new world reminded him that nothing really changed with time. There would always be people who envied, coveted, and schemed. There were still plenty of proper nouns that would be better removed from the lexicon than allowed to be in it.
This Montenegro person was one.
Ke'lev wouldn't hesitate like before.
He vowed to destroy anything that threatened his ward's pursuit of happiness, come whatever may.
The pit did not scare him. The wall of atar and music--an eternal existence separated from his born charge--he knew that was the truest form of Xibalba in the universe.
Nothing else compared.
He would never lose Iudas again.
Every layer of the other side, with their complexes over predestination and cosmic warfare, could go fuck themselves from the asomtote ceiling of creation to the wonder engine twisting at the bottom of the pit.
As far as the angel was concerned, he'd forsworn kith and kin. Maybe an inner portfolio centered around betrayal and its detection was more accurate than he'd given it credit…
In the end, he would rather undermine the world's order than allow another “noble” sacrifice of the only thing he held dear. He didn't even care if that resolution damned the future of the world. If the world was so easily broken, then damn it!
The man from the city deserved a life filled with contentment and happiness--untroubled by the puppet masters of some grand, divine play.
The man deserved peace, and the angel would help him get it. Even go against his nature and kill humans for it. Everything else was secondary.
“You're sure you're up for this?” the man asked him for the second time in as many days.
The angel nodded. He was an instrument of vengeance in the man's hands. Vengeance made the man from the city more at ease, more pliant and relaxed. Vengeance then was the closest thing to happiness.
“It won't… damn you to Hell or anything?” he asked.
The guardian just smiled. Smiling seemed to please the man too, but it was a smaller dosage, and fleeting.
“I don't want that to happen, ever. You need a place to go home if something ever happens to me.”
Nothing would ever happen to him. The angel straightened his tie one more time, just like the man with two souls had taught him.
“I mean it,” the man insisted, agitated by his thinly veiled evasion. “You have forever to look forward to. I won't let you sacrifice yourself. I know you think that's your job, but… Please, for me, don't ever do anything that could jeopardize your standing. It's enough that you're even here.”
The consideration was warming, but unwarranted. Still, the seraph appreciated it. The angel patted down his lapels and kissed the man's forehead.
His ward sighed. “Don't ever do that in front of anyone else, please?”
The seraph nodded.
The man's will was his angel's.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
