Before taking on the role as Chancery's aide, Bardo had served the group as Kazumi's second. Just like the Chancery and Montenegro families, the Bardos had been attending ours since before America's Revolution.
Owen, like all seconds, was assigned to Kazumi when they were both children. But unlike me, who had gotten Chancery when he and I had turned five, Kazumi didn't get her second until she made a fit about me receiving mine before her. So, a couple months later, on her eighth birthday, Chichi indulged her. Owen Bardo was four years old when he began living with us, which made him the closest thing we'd ever had to a little brother.
The four of us grew up like that, with Kazumi leading the pack, and I genuinely thought, even as I grew older and more jaded, that we would never be separated.
But there was always a worry in the back of my father's mind that Bardo's unrelenting loyalty toward Kazumi was rooted in something deeper, murkier than family.
I don't know why Chichi cared so much, besides being concerned over his stakes in the Steward’s eugenics-lite program, but if it had bothered him so much, he should have assigned her another girl from the start.
Besides, Kazumi was a force of nature unto herself and she only had eyes for Remus. If she couldn't squash Bardo's affections before they got him into real trouble, then what real hope did Chichi have?
After I received the invite to parlay with Adelaide, and Kazumi insisted on going as well, my father ordered Bardo to be sidelined. Monty made their mutual stance clear in a last-minute meeting: Bardo's routine judgment could still be trusted, but when it came to sensitive operations like the one we were about to go on, he'd only be an emotional liability.
Chancery had made a face at that declaration, no doubt wondering why his own emotions about Kazumi weren't even a point of consideration. Bardo just looked at Kazumi like he was being betrayed.
I should have fought the decision, but I honestly thought it wouldn't affect the outcome… and I didn't want to lose another finger for bad-mouthing Chichi's second again. Not for my pride's sake alone anyway.
So, Monty went in Bardo's stead.
I should have guessed things would only go tits-up from there.
Chancery had already been working himself up over the idea of us going in the first place that, with the addition of genuflecting to the old guard, his frazzled input was doomed to fall under advisement. Monty had promised to let the “young guns take the lead on this one”, but Chancery was so concerned about overstepping or insulting the man, that inevitably, Monty's suggestions became Chancery's orders.
I'd been so consumed with my own part in the operation that I didn't even think about bridging the gap between them. Trying to talk Kazumi out of joining us had become my top priority on a long list of to-dos that extended through the night we were scheduled to meet Adelaide. Add that Chancery knew my history with the old fucker, and I bet he couldn't conscience trying to convince me to help him handle Monty anyway.
By the time we were in the car, on the way to the clubhouse, the writing was on the wall, and my detail and I were trying in vain to read in the dark.
Strung out from arguing with my sister, I'd been bouncing my knee in the back seat. Chancery, settled between Kazu and I like a buffer, had checked his side holster's clip for the fifth time, pushing against Kazu who simply smiled to herself fondly.
Monty's pale eyes had fixed on me in the rear view mirror as he began conversationally, “A president's role isn't to know all the ins and outs. He shouldn't be burdened with such worries. Let us be your shield, Dev and, when you say the word, we'll be your sword too.”
I'd met his gaze with a soulless look.
The corners of his eyes had wrinkled up further. “I know it doesn't feel comfortable giving up the reins sometimes, but in matters like this, it's best to focus on what you can control. Miss Walker, whelp that she is, requires all your focus tonight. Your father can't afford for you to be distracted by little things like security and staff movements. Leave all that to us. What are we for otherwise?”
His words had been reasonable, but it was his fucking tone I'd taken issue with. He talked down to me like he had when I was shadowing Chichi-we as a teenager. He talked at me like he had the day he took my fucking finger. The words might have been addressed to President Devereaux of the Midori Group, but his tone was for sweet, little Kouji who had stopped growing at age fourteen and never let anyone forget how angry that still made him.
Nevermind that I'd buried more enforcers within our own ranks than without it. Nevermind that our stocks had doubled in value since I'd taken the chair. Nevermind that Adelaide had never sought peace with my father, but was willing to talk to me.
I was being unreasonable by asking about our manning. I was being paranoid by requesting to know the escape plan. I was micromanaging--disrespecting--my subordinates by demanding to know the game plan if something went wrong.
Didn't I have faith in my own people?
What were they for otherwise?
Chancery's knee had nudged mine in warning and I'd glanced at him sidelong before looking back at Monty. I then treated the old enforcer to the thinnest smile I could manage without turning it into a sneer. “You might be right, Mister Montenegro.”
Chancery had cringed.
Kazumi had hid a snicker behind lacquered nails and a cough.
God, I missed her.
Monty wasn't pleased with the near snubbing, but he recovered. He'd even nodded. “I am, invariably.”
Insufferable old fuck, I'd thought.
We'd arrived and been sequestered inside without fanfare or issue, Monty's men melding and lacing into the Riders with seemingly practiced ease. At the time, I thought it was a sign that Adelaide really had come around; that her adoption of Midori sensibilities and standards really was proof that she was willing to make peace and pay fealty.
It had been a sign of something else--something too close to my own face to see. But Kazumi saw it.
Adelaide appeared placid upon our arrival, like a well-fed lioness, and even lost the first hand of cards despite having the best set. She was simply being careful not to offend out the gate, I'd thought. But she was the first to fold in the second round too, a sickly sweet smile on her face as if her luck couldn't be helped.
“The house really knows no favorites,” she'd quipped after the table left Kazu flush. Running a hand through her loose blonde curls, she pulled at their ends lazily. I'd only ever seen her with her hair up. In that moment, she'd reminded me of the down-to-Earth waif she'd been only a decade ago. She wasn't the girl next door anymore, I understood that. In the intervening years, she'd become a cigarillo-smoking operator with a hair-trigger penchant for violence… but maybe, that reasonable young woman was still inside her after all, just looking for a reason or a cause to come out again.
I thought, with my help, she could unbecome the thorn she was. I genuinely believed that her show of vulnerability and obeisance was a sign she was redeemable, useful.
I swapped seats with Chancery on the third deal and Kazumi excused herself too, letting Monty sit across from Adelaide. Walker had called after us before we made it very far, “You really wanna tempt fate by interrupting a winning streak? A good rider with a sure seat knows when to let her dogs run down the fox, Zoomy.”
Kazumi had paused at the threshold and said back at her, words sharpened by nerves and annoyance, “A good rider knows the difference between a fox and a boar.”
Adelaide had only laughed. “I keep forgetting your ivy league roots. Forgive me. Public school only harped on the importance of the first half of that saying.”
“Idiom and idiot are only one letter apart,” Chancery had breathed and Adelaide smirked at him with renewed admiration. No one else would have, but I'd noticed Kazumi's full-body clench at their exchange
Adelaide had said just as low, just as carefully, “Oh, you pile of trembling flesh, if only your mind was as quick as your tongue.”
“If you think my tongue sharp, you should see my sword,” Chancery had returned with a raised brow, making Adelaide chortle with mirth.
Monty had grumbled, “Are the little royals gonna quote poets and philosphers all night or play to fucking lose? Call.”
Adelaide had sighed. Then she'd given me a sidelong look. “Hurry back, Kouji. I already miss your youthful miem.” She'd grimaced at Monty who glowed back. She met his call. “Offense meant, Montenegro. Your mean mug could curdle milk with a look.”
“Careful, Whelp,” Monty had replied without heat. “Scowls like that'll make you wrinkle faster.”
As if sensing I'd almost been having fun watching them, Kazumi followed me into the men's room and spat through a glory hole cut in the stall, “Monty-san wa kawaii kunai da.”
“I wouldn't put my mouth so close to that if I were you,” I'd stated. “Uncute how?”
“Some of his men are Riders.”
Monty? Chichi's second? A traitor? “Mitsu ka?” Had she seen it herself? Did she know? Or was she only guessing? I'd known she had it out for Adelaide from the start. Listening to her paramour and our rival flirt and banter had probably pushed her to see only what she wanted to see.
“Don't eat any fairy fruits, Kouji.”
“Monty vetted the bar.”
“Sou. Monty. Suki janai. We should leave.”
“We play five hands. Then we drink sake.” I thought I couldn't let the opportunity go to waste, no matter the risk. “She wouldn't dare move with so many eyes.”
“You're thinking with your balls again,” she'd growled at me. “She's a snake, Kouji. She's toxic. You know it and you keep letting her bite you!”
“I'm kinky like that.”
“Joudan shinai, Kouji-kun,” my sister had hissed.
“I'm not joking. I think you just don't like the idea that she's changed.”
“But she hasn't. She's all words. You can put out your eyes to better hear her, but then you won't see she's just been doing the same shit… only quieter. Monty is helping her. I have proof if you'll just listen.”
I'd sighed. “If Chancery's paranoia wasn't tipped off, then I don't know how or what--”
“Because Monty shut him down! You know I'm fucking right, but you don't want me to be right! You want--!”
“To be right!” I'd finally snapped. “You're not President, Aniwe! Ore da. And if I'm wrong, then I'll take the fall for it! But you have to let me fail! Isn't that what you want? You want me to be wrong so you can save the day? You want Adelaide to be rotten so there’s no peace? You want blood in the streets? Is that it? You want a war? Because you think people can't change? Go, if you wanna go.”
“You'll listen to her peddling bullshit, but you won't look at your own sister's evidence?”
“Not if it isn't iron-clad. A couple insiders is normal. Monty embedded men on purpose to keep an eye on her. I need more than that and a woman's intuition. Do you have anything else?”
Her silence told me she either didn't or wasn't willing to explain.
She'd pulled away from the divider and sighed. After a long moment, she'd finally said, “I thought you had changed. You're still stubborn, proud, and naive. Like father, like son. Warukatta, President Devereaux. Sumimasen.” She'd left without another word.
I waited a moment, then followed her.
When I returned to the table, Theodore Walker sat in Adelaide's seat and the group was in the middle of the fourth round. Kazumi was staring at her phone, leaning over Chancery's shoulder to show him something. Monty had cut a cigar. Around the room, seven pairs of eyes met mine without shame or deference. Somehow, in spite of everything that had led up to that moment, I was still surprised to note that not one of the guns along the perimeter were Midori men.
“Where's Walker?” I had asked.
It was Monty who answered without looking up. “The little girl's room.”
Kazumi's head had snapped up. She met my eyes and what passed between us in that moment was the last bit of understanding we shared before she would die.
In the beat of silence that followed Monty's words, Teddy Bear had looked up toward me and smiled from under the brim of a red ball cap.
I heard something below the floorboards. Maybe I only heard it because I'd been listening for it--for anything.
Something had pressed against the bottom of my foot and suddenly retracted. When I moved my shoe and looked, Teddy shouted, “GUNS!”
I couldn't hear anything more over the roaring in my ears as I stared down at someone's eye, pressing against a hole in the floorboards.
I was such a fucking idiot.
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“Dare doesn't deserve this kind of subtlety. We should've just blown up his house in the night and been done with this,” Chancery said from the back door.
“Exploding the helipad is subtle? I was going more for efficient. Besides, we didn't bring enough to blow anything subterranean and we're a hundred-percent certain that house has a basement. Chill, Remus. A good defense is a good offense,” I said from the couch.
“Sun Tzu? At a time like this?”
“Is there a better time for him?”
“Yeah, when we're writing the report for your father and not putting theory into practice.”
I chuckled. “Say we did kill him… Adelaide is still coming. With Dare dead, she'll know to bring more men and fire power--or at the very least, know not to show up herself. Think of this as an opportunity to get even.”
I could feel his eyes on me. He said slowly, “Dev… when I asked you how Dare knew where we were, you told me it was magic.”
“I said it wasn't impossible for him to use magic to find me.”
“Did you realize that before or after Lavelle summoned the guardian?”
I looked over at him. “Say it.”
His eyes widened and he pointed an accusing finger at me. “You've been knocked down before. You never went into exile after Clara, even when you were ordered to. And after Sydney, when you'd just woken up from a fucking coma, you rolled off the gurney like it was nothing. But your father didn't even have to pressure you this time. Has this all been some elaborate set up to draw Adelaide out?”
I smiled at him. “Solberg hasn't called back in a while. Check on him?”
Chancery shook his head as he raised his radio. “This isn't over, Boss.” But he did what he was supposed to do and confirmed everything was still in order.
Solberg was positioned at the transformer near the mainroad, awaiting word to kill the lakeside's power. He was cold. Go figure.
Once his stand-by status was confirmed, Chancery called over the net to check on Bardo as well, who was at the edge of the north-most property. If we knew more for certain, we might have fitted him with a scope, but given that I wanted to use him as a flank eventually, having him risk his position by taking out a couple goons in the prologue of this fight was too much of a risk. I told Chancery that a finger on a button was temptation enough for a self-starter like Bardo. Giving him a rifle without knowing what we were up against yet would be tempting fate.
Bardo came back with, “I got eyes on. Pier-side. Him plus four. House is empty. No comms I can see.”
I said to Chancery, “They could be communicating telepathically.”
Chancery nodded minutely as he called back to Bardo, “Copy. No flyer from the north?”
“No flyer,” Bardo confirmed, adding, “I don't think they're waiting for any more guests. Want me to intercept? I could kite them to the pad and blow it.”
I gave Chancery a toldja-look.
My second said, “Stay in position. I need you to be there in case you see a flyer before we do. We'll rendezvous after in either event.”
Bardo's voice was put-out. “Copy. Standing by.” But before Chancery could read him back, he added, “Shoot off a yellow if you need me to goose ‘em.”
Chancery rubbed the bridge of his nose as I grinned. “Copy. Call when they move.” After hearing back an affirmative, he checked his kit one last time before he said to me, “You know you're ready when the worst you think can happen is your own men getting good ideas and moving without your say so.”
“You think this'll be an easy fight?”
“No,” he said honestly. “But we're as ready as we can be, given what we've got. If the weather would just die down, it would be perfect.”
“That's how it always goes. But the shit visibility is good for us too. We've got the home advantage.”
“I just hope we can still see signals through the snow.”
“Cameron is going to be the real wild card in all this. I don't see him getting in this fight without Adelaide, but if he does, I need you to recall the boys. You can't fight him.”
Chancery looked like he wanted to argue, but he sighed instead. After a moment more, he said softly, “I hate this next part the worst.”
“The waiting?”
He nodded. Then he looked over my shoulder at Ke'lev in the foyer. He said, “Whatever happens, I'll focus on covering the boys. I know the guardian's got you.”
My smile was entirely smug. “Finally come around?”
“More like I've recognized that if you have that much faith in the thing's abilities, I should probably trust your judgement. Besides, I saw what that thing did to the wolves and the mountain lion.” He visibly suppressed a shudder. “Like you said, this isn't really my wheelhouse.”
“It could be. I hear Lavelle's looking for a new apprentice. And she's got a thing for brunettes…”
He rolled his eyes at me as he pulled a beanie over his dark hair. “I'm heading to the pier. You got your own cleats in case you've gotta make a run for it?” I nodded. “Extra meals?” I signed yes with a fist. “Don't forget to grab the sat-radio before you dip.”
I huffed a laugh. “Yes, Dear.”
He made a gruntled noise, then left through the backdoor, locking the slide in place as he looked at me meaningfully through the glass, as if he knew what I was planning, but also knew he wasn't in any kind of position to stop me. He put two fingers to his eyes before pointing them at me. Stay here, he mouthed.
I shuttered the blinds on his glare, then waited until I heard his boots leave the porch before turning to face Ke'lev. “When Dare moves, Solberg will kill the power. We'll move out then. Understand?”
Ke'lev frowned, but nodded.
“Worried about the angels?”
He blinked at me. No.
“Dare?”
He raised a confused eyebrow as if to ask, Dare? Is that someone I should know?
I wiped a smile off my face. “You're worried about the angels’ hosts then.” After he nodded once, the muscle in his jaw jumping, I waved a dismissive hand. “If the boys don't handle them, I will. I know you can't directly hurt them, but you can pacify them.”
He crossed his arms, but still nodded.
I wonder if bullets count as directly harming them? I dismissed the thought for the moment. It was a question that would require live experimentation and testing we didn't have time for.
Feeling suddenly nauseous from being upright for longer than the last five days combined, I went to the kitchen window. It was the only one that couldn't be shuttered or curtained. Looking out of it to get my bearings was a mistake. The storm outside was as mesmerizing as it was dizzying. I braced my hands on the edge of the sink, preparing to be sick.
Ke'lev came up behind me. “Hm?” I prompted testily. “I'm fine. Just… Just gimme a second.”
He put a couple of my scripts on the counter next to me and then slid over an empty glass.
I swallowed the selection without water, but Ke'lev pushed the glass closer to me and refused to leave until I acknowledged it or him.
I tiredly went through the motions and drank two glasses from the tap, holding a hand to my mouth to keep it all down when my empty stomach tried to rebel against the foreign occupation.
By the time I felt like I could regard the swirling precipitation outside without vomit getting involved, Ke'lev had set a tube of saltines and a ginger ale on the counter.
“Someone's been watching Chancery,” I mumbled.
The seraph smiled.
“At least your meal doesn't come with a lecture on the side.” I took the stuff back to the living room and took my time sitting down.
Ke'lev rested against the back of the couch, planting his chin on crossed forearms. Given his height, that meant he had to be on his knees. A glance back at him made me frown. He was staring at me.
I rolled my eyes and made eating a couple crackers a point. I tried to crack the can open, but had to switch to my off hand just to do that much. Of all the tasks I'd struggled with in the past nine months, it was opening a fucking soda can in front of a seraph that felt well and truly emasculating.
I didn't even want to drink it after all that, but Ke'lev was still watching me, so I made the effort. I then passed the tube and shook the half-gone can at him. “Polly wanna cracker?”
Ke'lev stared at me.
I sighed. He sighed back. I set the snacks aside. “Wanna watch a movie then?”
He tilted his head to the side.
“A film. A feature. A home play.”
He tilted his head the other way.
“How about this? I'll put on Netflix and empower you with the remote. It's be an honor. I don't even trust Remus to pick movies for me.”
At that, he got up and came around to sit beside me.
I taught him the controls and showed him how to navigate the menus.
I'd been expecting some sort of startled or curious reaction from him; an expression of wonder or confusion. Instead, the angel regarded the TV with an intense look of total concentration as he navigated previews and trailers, his alien eyes soaking in everything with a neutral, assessing gaze. It was decidedly anticlimactic. But then, I realized, Ke'lev reacted to most domestic things with that same quiet intensity.
It was like he was going down a checklist or flow chart when experiencing things for the first time.
Is this thing a threat? If yes, destroy it. If not, is it useful?
If it isn't useful, respond with indifference. If it is useful, learn how it works and master its utility.
He probably even had a post evaluation.
Was the thing good? If yes, keep doing it until directed to stop. If it was not good, start over at ‘Is this thing a threat?’
“You have to actually pick something,” I said after twenty minutes of watching him systematically browse the catalog one movie at a time.
He glanced at me for a single second, then returned to his hunt.
I crossed my arms and leaned against his warm bulk. One hand wrapped around the remote, the other braced against his mouth and chin in thought, Ke'lev finished watching the featured reel and moved on to the next line down.
It wasn’t long after that that I fell asleep to the sounds of snappy one-liners and epic, orchestral remixes of otherwise perfectly serviceable mainstream songs.
I didn't dream of anything in particular either.
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“Fuck, I wish I had my phone,” Chancery groused quietly, but then he loudly cleared his throat and said, “I came back to grab some hot-hands. Need anything before I head back out?”
“Mmph?” I had a crick in my neck from laying on Ke'lev. I didn't open my eyes. I could only imagine what Chancery saw. “Why do you need your phone?” I slurred against the seraph's tee-shirt. I'd definitely been drooling.
“Blackmail material. If your dad saw you now, he'd probably send assassins to finish what Adelaide started.”
“I'm innocent. Ke'lev rearranged us while I was asleep.”
Chancery barked a laugh. “I wasn't talking about that, but you do kinda look like Rose clinging to the big door.”
“What?”
“You're watching The Titanic? You know how the president feels about hisson watching chick flicks.”
“It's a disaster movie.”
“A disaster-romance movie.”
“You just said disaster twice.”
“Speaking of twice, you know they're making a second one, right?”
I huffed a disbelieving laugh and turned my face away from the back door. “Nothing from Bardo yet? Are Dare and Co’ still loitering outside, freezing their butts off?”
“You mean like we're doing?”
I didn't bother raising my head at that, just opened my eyes and stared at a frayed piece of string coming off the shoulder of Ke'lev's shirt. “Your call Chancery… Wanna give them an incentive to move? Or do you think the boys can hold out for another shift?”
Chancery sucked at his teeth.
Ke'lev absently touched my bad shoulder and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Stop that.” The seraph gave me a petulant look.
Chancery said, “I'll go out in an hour and shoot off a star--see if that doesn't scatter the roaches… If we end up standing around for another hour after that though, I'll swap out Solberg and we'll rotate to sleep and get warm.”
“So Bardo gets the short end this time?”
“And me!”
“You wanna a medal?” Ke'lev traced one of my surgery scars through my sleeve and I smacked at his hand. “I told you to stop.”
Chancery was fighting a smirk. “Listen, if you could go out too…”
“My big door can,” I offered. Ke'lev looked cheated.
Chancery made a yeah-right sort of snort. “Uh huh. Are you gonna let him get up then? You look awfully… rescue-able.”
“Get your hot-hands and get out.”
“No shade, no shame. Just lemme know if you need any protection.”
That's enough. I rose up enough to glare at him. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Believe it or not, you have more important things to do than rib me to death over a drug-induced nap.”
The Titanic, he mouthed.
“Ke'lev picked it.”
With closed captions, he mused silently.
I fished around and pitched a throw pillow at him.
He snickered, “Look, hold your snowballs! I'm not the one roasting chestnuts on an open fire while my men are drowning in a winter wonderland… Should I phone a vicar?”
“Keep talking and I'll phone a life-flight,” I said through my teeth.
“If you can wing me at point-blank, I'll call the chopper in myself, Boss.”
I gauged the distance before dropping onto Ke'lev's chest. “You're both lucky I'm seeing double.”
My second laughed and said, “Get another, uh, nap in, Rose. I'll update you when we've got more.”
“The moment I can rack a slide, Remus, you're dead.”
“You say the sweetest things.” But of course he had to get one more in as he went over the threshold: “If the action is the problem, why don't you just borrow Solberg's revolver?”
“‘Cause you'd love to see me shoot you with a pink fuckin’ Rossi.”
He hooted, “I really fuckin’ would.”
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Kazumi's guardian had kept Chancery from harm, attaching to him with her dying exhale. Monty had been dragged out after being bit in the shoulder. Teddy Bear had fled in terror after I didn't go down.
So, in the end, Chancery was the only one of our number to make it out of the card house completely unscathed. The survivor's guilt had eaten him alive in the months that followed, culminating in a mental breakdown that had him bent over Kazumi's memorial marker.
It was the first time I'd been outside the hospital since the funeral, and the first time Chancery had seen the site. I wasn't in a wheelchair anymore, but still needed a cane to get around. Chancery had been holding my umbrella, but as soon as he stood before her plot and started talking, I'd taken it from him before he could accidentally biff me with it.
Eventually, his words for her had run out and his sobs had turned into gulps of air. He got no judgement from me, but I didn't know how to comfort him without making it about me, so I'd let him have the moment.
Eventually, he took a breath and got out, “Dev… Kouji.”
“Mm?”
“I can't… I can't understand how you got on after Sydney. Your son…”
There wasn't anything to say about my boy that I hadn't already said. He hadn't been born when he should have been. Sydney had almost been a mother, and then she hadn't been.
My body was as holey as my soul.
My second then asked, “How do you manage to not make it about you—your pain, your agony, your loss? How do you say anything about what they did and how they loved without being consumed by knowing they can't do it again. Knowing she's gone…” He'd pressed a glove into his mouth and bit down.
I'd closed my eyes and let out a breath. Looking up, my sister had met my gaze with a vacant expression, but when her empty eyes landed on Chancery, her entire demeanor changed. Holding the sight for more than a moment was already too much, but I'd gritted my teeth and soldiered through the discomfort.
Coming from around her own memorial, Kazumi had reached down for him, trying to draw him to his feet, but passed through him. She tried again and again to shield him from the rain, tried to fix his coat, his collar, and his hair.
I'd had to take a step to steady myself as I let the vision go. I could feel heat running down my cheeks. With a shaking hand, I'd adjusted my own collar to hide my cheeks and pulled my hat down to shade my eyes.
I had to rally myself in the next moment, then step forward once more to make sure the umbrella covered my second from the elements just that much better.
I'm not sure Chancery noticed. I don't blame him if he didn't. He had pressed palms into his eyes as he said in a broken, stumbling rush of air and emotion, “She was everything. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. It isn't fair.” He'd looked back at me. The only time I've ever seen Chancery cry was at the foot of my sister's grave. He'd demanded to know, “How the fuck are we just supposed to carry on?!”
I could only kneel down and hold out the umbrella to him. He'd sniffled. He'd wiped his face. I'd waited until he took his charge, his mantle, his duty. When he'd finally taken the thing back from me, it was like he had slipped back into his old familiar skin.
You're my second. I need you.
He was the one to help me to my feet in the moment that followed. Leaning against him for support, I'd told him softly, “If I've learned anything over the years, it's that we don't have to do anything, Remus. The world will carry on for us.”
“I can't do this without her,” he'd whispered.
“You won't,” I promised him.
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A muted pop from outside pulled me from shallow sleep, and Ke'lev rolled me onto the couch as he went to the backdoor to peek through the blinds. Light filtered into the lakehouse like it was under a spotlight. Joining him, I saw a white star flare slowly falling just above the center of the lake, illuminating everything even through fog and snow. A single silhouette was running toward the lake's edge, their white and black outline blurring into the surroundings like a ghost or mirage.
“Get my gear,” I told Ke'lev. “Don't forget the water.”
Bardo came over the radio in the kitchen with a crackle. “That did it. They're on the move. Four walking South, one running for you, Bravo. Dare's with the pack.”
Chancery replied between breaths, “I'm headed to Delta. Stay in place.”
Solberg said, “I see you, Bravo.”
“Kill it,” Chancery snapped.
Seconds after, the heat in the house kicked off and the TV died. Outside, the star remained the only source of light. From my vantage point, I could see four shadows in the fog, three in front and one behind. Then, from the west, I heard the report of a gun from our side and two of the leading men broke off to find cover as the other two sprinted for our lake house.
I hurriedly zipped up my jacket and slipped the rubber webbing of the crampons over the soles of my boots. Ke'lev shouldered my bag and we both left out the front door, skittering on the hardwood, skirting around the south side of the house before limping for the treeline.
Another handful of retorts echoed across the lake and indistinct shouting moved westward.
Someone said something over the radio, but Ke'lev keyed it to stop it from talking and turned it off before stuffing it into our bag with prejudice. “Good boy,” I gasped under my breath as we made our way to the clearing I had in mind. He hooked a hand under my armpit and practically dragged me the rest of the way.
The signal star landed on the ice, but instead of burning for another ten minutes like it was supposed to, it went out, pitching us into total darkness. I wasn't sure if my men or Dare's had smothered it. Thankfully, Ke'lev navigated the forest without issue, making me glad he'd taken the lead.
Halfway there, I heard the crash and breakage of foliage as the two men pursued us into the trees. A look behind confirmed they had headlamps. They hadn't been going for stealth before and they definitely weren't employing surprise now. That couldn't be good. Maybe it meant Dare wasn't one of them, but that meant the sorcerer was engaging with my men and not me.
Ke'lev picked up the pace and my feet made shallow furrows in the ground behind us.
I'd selected a point of interest along the Eastern trail for our trap. I hadn't shared its significance to Ke'lev, but I could tell upon our arrival that he approved. It was one of many natural springs that fed into the lake during Spring and Summer. Now, the shallow, isolated pond it formed was frozen solid in a perfectly black sheet about fifty feet across, and the waterfall feature to the south was suspended in time.
At the edge of the water, I put my back to a tree and silently directed Ke'lev to do the same on the other side of the trail. The lights behind us bobbed up and down, scanning the area. They came close enough that I could hear them bitching at one another: “Remember, we want Devereaux alive.”
“How the fuck are we supposed to call them out, again?” His partner was a chick, not another man.
“Weren't you paying attention?”
“I was too busy trying not to freeze to death,” she grumbled.
“Fuckssake. They'll manifest when we're under threat.”
“My skin is fucking crawling.” Before her partner could reply, she said, “I've lost the trail.”
“You're looking at the ground. Reach out with your senses. Use our riders.”
“Our parasites, you mean,” she almost growled. “I'm not using anything that thing--”
“Eyes up. They're close. Hiding.”
They both went silent as they cautiously approached the pond. I could barely make out Ke'lev's shape pressed against a tree across from me. He met my eyes and smiled.
When the two operators passed us, Ke'lev peeled away from the tree and very efficiently hooked an arm around one of them. The man made a choked sound as his rifle swung from his vest freely, his gloves raking at Ke'lev's arm and hand around his neck. Shit, he's wearing a collar. It's gonna take time to knock him out.
The woman leveled her rifle at them, shouting, but didn't do anything stupid like try to shoot her partner. I approached her from behind, hoping to be just as efficient and stealthy, but she swung around with the butt of her gun and I only just avoided it by falling backward to the ground. Fucking awesome. Thanks, Bambi-legs. So much for that.
Even if she had me on lock now, I could see her realize she still had the seraph behind her and her partner under threat. She spat at me, “Stay down and I won't blow out your knees!”
“Go fuck yourself.”
The man, kicking and bucking, got out, “Shoot… this--augh--fuckhead, Torez!”
She looked between her partner and I, and made her choice. She turned her back to me and dashed around for a better angle. I tried to trip her, but she only stumbled over my leg brace, shooting me an annoyed look.
She flicked her weapon to burst and leveled the gun. Only ten feet away, she'd probably shoot through the angel and wound her partner, but she clearly wasn't thinking about that.
“Throw him, Ke'lev!” I snapped.
Ke'lev threw the man into his partner before she could get off a shot and they careened into a snowbank in a limb-laden heap of cursing and coughing.
Ke'lev was pulling me to my feet in the next moment, dragging me toward the water. We stopped in the center of the pond and he dropped my bag in front of me. I couldn't crouch, could only fall on top of it to keep from cracking my knees on the ice. I ripped it open as Dare's goons collected themselves. They called out to Ke'lev in mocking tones, realizing that if they shot now, they'd probably shoot me too. When Ke'lev didn't take the bait, keeping himself between me and them, the two operators broke apart and started flanking us.
I dumped the contents of the bag on the ground: five bottles of water, five flare guns, a road flare, a walkie-talkie, and a satellite radio. I said, “I'm gonna force the angels out. Can you take two?”
Ke'lev didn't answer, just kept tracking the two humans with his eyes.
“I need the angels on the water. I can take it from there. You'll be fine.”
Ke'lev looked down at me and stiffly nodded.
I took up one of the flare guns and shot it toward one of the headlamps. I wasn't aiming at them, just needed to scare them. As the flare hissed against the snow, Ke'lev moved toward that bloody light and a couple shots popped off but either missed or simply didn't stop him.
I shot another flare in the direction of the other headlamp, but was startled when two things happened at the same time. The flare slug landed low and skittered along the ice, illuminating the running boots of the operator who had decided to dash toward me just as Ke'lev abandoned me. The other thing that happened stopped everyone in their tracks as bright yellow lights enveloped Ke'lev and myself, drowning the world in sunshine for a moment.
I knew angels didn't like fire, but I hadn't realized how effective the flares would be.
Out of the twin halos, their guardians manifested. But instead of taking form as holy ghosts, their golden lights guttered out, temporarily night-blinding me. The wet snapping of bone and sinew echoed throughout the space, interspersed by my heavy breaths.
At least both operators were now on the ground or the ice, groaning, their headlamps shattered--or rather, exploded.
But their heart-harbored creatures weren't just rank and file angels.
Dare had summoned seraphim.
Out of the shadows, hulking white figures rose up to meet Ke'lev and I. Ke'lev himself expanded in a coiling, roiling mass of blood and bone as his body violently rearranged itself.
I couldn't watch how their encounter went. I could only hope he remembered to get his opponent near me and mine on the ice.
Looming over me, my own antagonist formed a sai with its singular, multi-jointed arm. I shot a flare at it. One of its two left feet crunched down on top of the slug that fell off its chest without injury, but that had been enough light to showcase its twisted form.
It was only half a seraph.
Its left side was armor-plated in ivory and steel. A single “wing” helped to support its off-kilter weight, stabbed into the ice like a tent piton. Its two raptor-like feet clicked impatient claws against the frozen surface. It had half a face, unlike Ke'lev, but it was shaped like a human wearing an animal headdress. Half a jackal stared down at me with goat's eyes, while a human mouth snarled with distaste, half a tongue lolling limply from the slash.
Like it had kissed the edge of a ten-foot-tall bandsaw, the right side of its form was missing. Insides left exposed, a tangle of probinging, writhing muscles and vessels stuck out from its center, disconnected and useless.
I didn't want to encounter whatever had ripped this thing apart so cleanly, but the fact that it was still alive and still able to fight sent chills of foreboding down to my freezing toes.
A clicking sound played prelude to the thing bowing to me slightly before it spoke directly into my mind: “Fear not. I am Tyr, Iskariot. My brother is Es. We are the Watcher for Disobedience. May I have the honor of killing you? I merely want to take your soul back into our custody. It shall not be undignified, but it will not be pleasant should you struggle.”
“N-No,” I said, going for a stalling approach. I heard a tree go down and winced as Ke'lev bellowed something horrific that sounded like an aircraft screaming into the ground. “I'm kinda attached to this life,” I said over the drowning noise.
Tyr cocked his head to the side, sloshing organs with the movement and making my own flip-flop with nausea. “That is lamentable,” the seraph said reasonably. “We agreed to come at the Solomon's bidding because we wanted to visit destruction upon the one that split us apart. Your soul is merely the price for our attendance.”
“You can't disobey the sorcerer?”
“We cannot.”
“That is lamentable,” I said, glancing beyond him to see Ke'lev wrestling the right side of the seraph, Es, back toward us and onto the pond.
Yes. Just a little more. “You're not going to help your brother?” I asked.
Tyr didn't even look up toward the wrestling angels. He merely took a knee and brought his face closer to me. I lifted a flare gun in warning and he stilled. Half a smile closed half his mouth. “Ke'lev might've been our superior once,” he said, “but should we succeed here, we will be reunited, and we will be twice the Hound Ke'lev was. Raguel promised us this.”
“Raguel? Your archangel?”
He nodded. “Our provider. You will meet him when we have attended.”
Stall. Keep stalling. He's so close… Wait. I asked, “Ke'lev ripped you apart? Why?”
“To make a point,” Tyr said shortly.
I was confused. “So… Okay, help me understand.” Ke'lev had torn Es's wing off, but Es had wrapped his net around his khopesh's arm, spilling blood onto the ice and making it difficult for them to get traction.
Come on, Ke'lev! Stop fucking around! “Take Dare out of the equation for a second… My guardian ripped you in half to make a point to Raguel?”
“Yes.”
“And Raguel… gave you an upgrade, but didn't completely heal you… and sent you here to get even?”
“Yes.” Tyr made a dismissive gesture at me, like a bird distracted by an itch. “You would not understand. The order of things is a series of tests and evaluations. I failed before, but I have graciously been given another chance. I will not fail this time. I will be rewarded.”
I think Saint Raguel sent this guy here to appease Dare… which got an ambitious idiot out of his own flock.
Tyr looked up as our other halves hit the ice and moved toward us. “Not long now,” Tyr said. “You have until the Watcher for Deceit lies dead to decide whether or not you would like to accompany us in mild pain or abject agony.”
Come on, Ke'lev.
Es ripped Ke'lev's arm off and they both disengaged, stringing dark fluids between them, their chests rattling around gasps and whistles. I tried to stand, but Tyr just shoved me down and put a taloned foot on me to keep me there. “Ke'lev!” My fingers found the water bottles and Tyr let me go for them, because they weren’t weapons. His mistake.
My seraph looked up at me since Es was busy collecting some of his guts off the ground.
“You trust me?”
Ke'lev's fan of golden eyes looked between me and Tyr. Then he saluted with one of his wings.
Tyr swung his half-head to look down at me and I smiled at him. “You should see what I see, you ugly mother fucker.”
I used the edge of one of his talons to split the water bottle open. The cold shocked him more than anything and his talons came off me. The water wasn't hot and sat on top of the ice, spreading out like a thin layer of glass. I finished opening the others, then pulled my single road flare to light up the surface.
All three of the seraphim stared down at the black mirror, transfixed.
I thought I was being so clever. I limped over to the operator lying on the ice. I bent down and took my time pulling the collar down from his neck. I took one of his own knives and slit his throat. I shielded my eyes to save my night vision as one of the seraphim winked out. I then took my time going to the other side of the pond to do the same to the other half of this little team.
I was just thinking how easy it all ended up being. After taking care of the last threat, shading my eyes from the glare, I looked back at my own seraph and I couldn't help but feel satisfied that I had gotten away with murder. Nice and tidy. I used snow to wash the blood from my hands, leaving them aching and shaking anew.
I was making my way over to our discarded radio to phone in victory when I heard crashing behind us in the trees. Dread pooling in my belly, I put myself between the tree line and my distracted guardian.
Two gigantic angels cut their way through the forest and stopped at the pond edge to regard me.
These two were whole, horrific, and happy to see me. As feared, Dare had evidently proven too much for my own mundane team. The guardians’ vessels were nowhere in sight.
Of course.
“Fuck,” I sighed.
18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrk1MFzaux7
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18Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5Djwtad6bn
“Do not do this, Iudas! Lay down this yoke! Have you forgotten everything the Master taught you?”
The man would not be comforted. His lot was treachery. It always had been. Written on his epitaph before he was conceived was his ill fate, his destiny. Before him now was only despair.
“What they did to him,” he began before amending himself in broken syllables, “No, what I did to him is unforgivable.”
“Did he not whisper to you under this very tree?” Sabriel would not be cowed. He would not see this ending. He would interfere. He would save this man, damn the consequences! “Did he not say he forgave you even before the holy men met you--before they even heard of your name?” He pressed his forehead into the other's, staring at his other half's closed lids. “Please, do not let this destroy you. This burden is not yours alone! If you only wait three days time as he prom--”
The man refused to open his eyes as he hissed, “The Master is dead, Sabriel. His father abandoned him as he abandoned me! We… Man is not meant to know the nature of such beings. Man is not meant to be loved so. We bite the hand that feeds us. How could I let him delude me into believing otherwise?”
“You are much wiser than this! Faith is love. Iudas, listen to me. You have a choice.”
“To live or to die… This is the only choice I can call my own,” the man said softly, taking back up his rope.
Someone intruded on them at that moment, drawing their attention.
A nimbus surrounded their face, and their eyes glowed with everlasting fire. Their haunting visage was the only one of the Host that could be looked upon with mortal eyes. It was a caring and loving face; a balm to any that would regard them. This was surely a friend and an ally.
Their wings dragged behind them, broken and misaligned. When they spoke, their words were honey and longing. “Iskariot, your angel has never spoken an untruth. But why do you burden them with such hollow justifications?”
“That you can see my spirit, what manner of creature are you?” the man demanded, a warning in his voice.
Sabriel bared his neck at their visitor, but his gaze held a warning too for this light bringer despite his respectful address: “They are the morning star. They were banished from the aerie when clay was given breath.”
“Banished?” The beautiful messenger smiled and it was as painful to see as it was enchanting. “I left our father's house to help guide his new creations. I too was made his pawn, as you were made to be, Iskariot.”
“Do not call me that. There is only one who may call me that and I… I ended him.”
The light bringer was soon not alone. Manifested from the sparks that fell from their eyes, shapes arose from the earth, as malformed as their maker's twisted wings. The lot attended as servants, like cherubim. The angel reached a taloned hand out to the man. “No, my dear pawn. You were Man's salvation. Did not the Master say so? The silver pieces that weigh you down like stones in your pockets… The price that was paid to you is like salt in your wounded heart, is it not? You wish to be free from that pain?”
Sabriel put himself between the glorious messenger and his charge, pushing Iudas into the tree. “It is true what they say of you, Prince. Your words are petals of morning glory under the tongue. But I stand ready with the antidote. Be gone from this place.”
The light bringer looked beyond him to the man and said, “They gifted you a troublesome warden, Son of Enoch. But I am here to sunder your shackles. That is my purpose.”
“You are an adversary!” Sabriel accused. “What wisdom have you gleaned in your time below that cannot be given freely from above? The mana from The One is without dust. But the bread you break here is full of burs and stones!”
“Such slander,” the morning star purred. “You'll regret my leaving you whole when all is said and done, Saint Sabriel.” Again, he beseeched the man. “Iudas, this fate you feel so beholden to is not an inflexible thing. I control the very stars your precious Elohim writes upon. Who is Death to someone like me? If the Master's father really had such command over such things, surely he would have destroyed me long ago?”
Sabriel spat, “Do not twist--”
“Then if it can be rewritten,” Iudas said carefully, “what would you write of me, Shatan?”
The sting of that epithet was surely felt by the light bringer, but his smile did not fall. “I too have created, as my father did. But my children are that of fire and satisfaction. Any wish you harbor is their command. Any hurt, any longing, any desire within you can be made and unmade on a whim. Just as I wish to remove your pain… I also wish to read your story without an end.”
Sabriel said, “You can't--”
“How?” the man asked.
Sabriel deflated.
The light bringer said, “As your shield wishes, I too would not see that noose around your neck.”
The man grunted in consideration.
The light bringer said, “As your mantle wishes, I too would see you elevated. You are wise and learned.”
“Mhm.”
The light bringer was emboldened. They circled the wilting Sabriel to whisper against the man's ear, “As your comfort wishes, I too would see you as a general over my armies. I would see you with your own crown of thorns. I would see you lead my jinn into battle against those powers that controlled you.” One of their hands crept up to clasp his shoulder. “In your heart, your hate for the Romans, for the holy men, for those monied fools that suppress the common people… Your hate was condemned by your god. But you and I both know that hate is just unrequited love. And did not the Master speak highly of love?”
The man turned toward the light bringer and their beautiful face was reflected in his dark eyes. At long last, the man said, “You have not spoken falsely about me.”
“That's because you and I are the same, Iuda--”
“But you also spoke for Sabriel. And I know, as surely as you do, that he does not wish for me to be any of those things.”
The light bringer howled--a harrowing, horrible sound--as Sabriel struck out at their attending spirits. These “jinn” scalded his hand when he grabbed them. He, who had never felt pain since he was created, reeled back in terror as the jinn descended on him, melting his wings and burning his garments. He screamed as they seared the very flesh off his vessel. He was powerless to stop them. “Iudas, run!”
“Sabriel!” the man shouted, suddenly wrapped up in the many alabaster limbs of the light bringer. “Stop them! Stop this! Please!”
“Humans. All of you are the same. You bond with anything that has a face.” Their eyes were fixed on Sabriel as they forced the man's head to face the carnage. The snap of a bone, the garbled words within a whimper, the guttural varks of the jinn--These things made the man tremble and flinch with pain and panic both, but he couldn't look away. “The shape it takes to comfort you is as false as the words of my father. Look upon it, Iskariot. See its bones? See its flesh? It is a construct. It is a puppet, a mouthpiece, a living machina. Nothing more.”
When the jinn were done, the man's spirit lay upon the earth like a discarded doll, its chest rent open to reveal a marvelous array of darkness and blood that swirled and spun with stuttering revolutions. Sabriel gasped like a beached fish, but his limbs refused to move. “Iudas…” his whisper was a pitiful sigh.
The light bringer said, “See the power of my children? The Holy Host can't contend with them, lo they will try. Even the seraphim that fell with me cannot imagine the apocalypse my children of fire are capable of.”
Iudas stared down at his guardian and Sabriel could see the intent in his eyes, the cold rage. No, he thought when the word refused to manifest aloud. Don't do it. Don't give up.
The man pulled free of the angel and said, “If you had any power over me, I would already be under your thrall.”
“Are you not?” the adversary asked serenely.
“I already knew Sabriel's design. And if you could rewrite my fate, you should have done so from the start.” He made his way to the tree as the light bringer's glare tracked his movements. “But you have no power over me. Sabriel was right… All along, the answer was always before me.”
“No!” The angel went to him and tried to stop him from tying a knot in the hemp, but their talons suddenly passed through him, useless. “No! You would give in?! You would fulfill the prophecy of your youth?! Your life really will be forfeit! You are a fool! You are mad! You are yoked!”
The man threw the loop over the branch and wrapped its end around the tree three times. Three times for as many days as he couldn't wait. And perhaps he might have, if not for the presence of the Fallen King.
“Then I am,” Iudas said as he handled the rope. “I am a fool. I am mad. I am yoked. I have been a servant of the state, of the temple, and of the Master, but…” He looked back at Sabriel and said, “There has only ever been one who has had faith in me without condition or pact. He never asked me to follow him. He never…” He looked away and Sabriel couldn't bear it. “Unlike you, the Master, or your maker… He never asked for anything from me.”
The light bringer raged, calling forth more jinn and more light, but they could not touch the man from Karioth.
Iudas placed the hemp around his throat and wore this last stole with pride. “If I were to come back, as the Master said we would… I would give Sabriel anything he asked of me, three-fold.”
The man knelt down and closed his eyes, letting the weight of his ordained betrayal drag him where unholy light couldn't follow.
But the messenger's words would follow him: “I curse you! My children will hunt you down with every return! Every iteration, every version, every cycle, they will find you and destroy your comforts! They will rip the clothes from your wives. They will reap the lives of your children! They will rend your flesh! Your soul will never know peace!”
But the morning star could only howl and rage. After they exhausted their oaths, they burned the hanging tree from the inside out, but had to leave the dead man where he fell.
They turned on the broken angel wheezing into the dust. Sabriel was smiling through his tears, in spite of everything.
The light bringer leveled a scorn-filled look on the pitiable creature. But there was only resentment in their heart. There was no room for anything else. Their own satisfied smile was chilling. They slowly crouched down next to the angel and grabbed him up by his hair. He let out an involuntary yelp of pain. “You,” the light bringer shook him. “You, I will leave alive for Raguel to deal with.”
Through a grimace, Sabriel cursed.
They laughed. “You tried to bend fate, little bird. You tried to turn Iskariot from the tree. You defied the will of Heaven. You're no better than my fallen few.”
He growled, “I'm nothing li--”
“You're right. You are nothing. Nothing!” They shook him again and he choked on a sob. “So like a mirror, you are. A reflection of ambition, but not ambition itself… Yes, you desired, little bird. You wanted. You longed. You deserve nothing less than what I received.”
“The pit?” Sabriel spat.
“No. No, what we deserve is something worse than pain. Worse than shame. Worse than hate.” The light bringer smiled sorrowfully, but that mournful look was full of too many teeth and eyes. “Apathy.”
In the next moment, the light and its many sparks disappeared. All that remained of the hill, besides the smoking skeleton of a tree and the corpse of a man, was an untethered angel curling around his anguish.
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