by L. A. Banks
“More like cosmic boot camp, if you ask me.”
“Couldn’t have said it better.” Queen Aziza went to the stove as Celeste noshed. “Most of my clients are good people trying to find their spiritual path through the overgrown footbridges of their lives. Some are on the journey, but most come in crises and we’ve gotta deal with that first. Then I have these absolutely fabulous visitations like tonight. So, you just tell me if there is anything I can do?”
“There is one thing,” Celeste said quietly, “and if you say no, I’d understand.”
“If I can do it, I will. If I can’t, I will honestly tell you that as well.”
“My aunt is old and sick, back in Philly...I left the city in a hurry and don’t have a cell phone. Could I just make a quick call to check on her?”
“Absolutely! I thought you were going to ask me for something hard.”
Celeste let her breath out when Queen Aziza laughed and motioned for her to follow.
“Come, there’s a phone in the bedroom.”
“Uh . . . I can call her a little later,” Celeste said quickly, panicking as Queen Aziza floated in a graceful stride toward the bedroom door. Tension almost made Celeste stand. If the host opened the bedroom door, she’d be close to the bathroom inside that room . . . and as long as it was taking Azrael to rejoin them in the dining room, the last thing she wanted was for a sensitive to pick up on what was probably happening behind closed doors.
Queen Aziza stopped for a moment, then turned and bowed to Celeste. “Let’s try the one in my spa office, shall we?”
“Much obliged,” Celeste said, feeling her face warm.
She didn’t say another word as she followed the older woman up the spiral staircase and kept her gaze on Queen Aziza’s bare feet. Once they’d reached the little room in the back of the establishment, Queen Aziza offered her a seat at her desk and showed her how to dial out. But she hung by the doorway, her gaze locking with Celeste’s.
“It’s allowed you know . . . and it’s natural, and nothing to be ashamed of. Shows you’re alive.”
So mortified that she could barely breathe, Celeste just stared at the woman.
“I’ve had very long discussions with Bath Kol about the whole edict.”
So much embarrassment filled Celeste even as so many questions fought to get out of her mouth that all she could offer Queen Aziza was a wide-eyed stare.
Queen Aziza smiled. “When they come into this density, everything is a hundredfold more intense than in the human body. The food, if it’s pleasing to the palate, it almost makes them high. If it’s bad for their system, they’ll be sick as a dog until their system adjusts to it. If they have a drink, they are lit. And when they’re amorous, they are practically out of their minds so I’m told . . . has to do with the twelve strands of DNA and powerful energy connected directly to the Source. Just like they heal in a day or so from something that would have one of us in triage or in a casket.”
“But then to send them here is so cruel—and to trap them here because they were the victims of this physical manifestation that they didn’t even ask for while trying to protect us? What kind of sick, twisted—”
“So they can learn,” Queen Aziza said in a calm tone, placing a finger to her lips. “The one you found or who found your Light is the luckiest of the group I’ve known in this lifetime.”
“This lifetime? You said that when we were downstairs.”
“Yes, beloved. I’ve done this before—the last time I recall impressions was in Kemet...otherwise known as Egypt. I was a keeper of the scrolls. I was a priestess then, as now, and I know the Divine Source of All That Is isn’t cruel. There is a purpose to all of this, even the banishment.”
“I tried to tell Azrael the exact same thing.”
“Call your aunt. When you find Bath Kol, he can tell you more. But you do not have to be afraid of trapping your guardian on the planet. He can be with you the way he can be with no other. If you won’t take my word for it, tell him to send up a Light missive—a prayer, and see what the answer is.”
“Are you serious?” Celeste sat back, stunned. “But he said...”
“Some of them do not fully know because it was never a part of their consciousness. They heard Thou Shalt Not and left it right there.”
“But—”
“But you aren’t human,” Queen Aziza murmured softly with a kind smile. “Therein lies the loophole. Azrael is blessed, as are you.”
Celeste just stared at the mysterious woman as Queen Aziza turned and glided away to disappear down the long hall. She’d heard the words Queen Aziza had spoken, but like anything else, unless she had ironclad proof, a sentence of twenty-six thousand years was nothing to play with. Until she got word directly from a true Light-bearer that it was cool, she wasn’t even trying to play games with a cosmic loophole that could get Azrael messed up for eternity.
After a moment to collect herself, Celeste picked up the phone and dialed her aunt Niecey’s house. So much strangeness was happening so fast, that for a minute she just wished for her old, terrible life back. But after being in Azrael’s arms, she knew there was no turning back. On the third ring, her aunt answered the phone, and that put tears in Celeste’s eyes.
“Hello? Auntie?”
“Baby, is that you?”
“Oh, my God, Aunt Niecey, I was so worried about you...I don’t know why but I wanted to hear your voice.”
“I’m jus’ fine, baby girl . . . chased some demons off my porch this morning, but you know me. I got Roscoe Jr. and my Good Book. They left out of here and ain’t come back.”
Celeste closed her eyes and sat back. “Thank God.”
“I do every day.”
“But you feel all right?”
Her aunt laughed her rich, warm laugh that felt like warm syrup on biscuits. “Never better. I’m watching my crime shows. I thought you two was in New York?”
“We are—I just don’t have a cell phone anymore so I had to call from a friend’s house up here.”
“Well, shouldn’t y’all be out dancing and having young folks’ fun?”
“We’re going out later, Auntie,” Celeste said, finally laughing. “I love you.”
“Good. I love you, too, baby. Now lemme get back to my program.”
“G’nite.” Celeste made a kissing sound into the receiver, then hung up. She sat back for a moment, closed her eyes, and just breathed in and out slowly.
Chapter 14
An angry mob of ravens lifted off the telephone wires and took to the skies at Fifty-eighth and Ellsworth Avenue, rushing to the Philadelphia waterfront. The moment they reached the warehouse, they drew together into one large entity that finally formed the silhouette of a tall man dressed in leather.
He entered the building through the rooftop stairs. Nathaniel looked up and stood, wiping the cocaine powder from his nose with the back of his hand when Malpas walked in.
Malpas dropped to one knee before Nathaniel. “Milord, they are in New York City.”
“Where in New York? The city is a haystack of eight million and we need to find her quickly.”
“The number on the line she dialed out from was a restricted one, but she mentioned New York and that they were going out later tonight.”
Nathaniel rubbed his palms down his face in agitation. “Send half of your warriors and three or four good scouts to New York with a legion of expendable demons and find them. Then bring me the old woman. I want that girl to make a bargain for her soul. Time is not on our side—and I need leverage, something, anything, before she turns that bastard she’s with into goddamned Superman.” Nathaniel stood and looked out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. “Even though he’s only been incarnate for a very brief time, how long do you think it will take him before he realizes that her Light is like rocket fuel in his system? How long before one of his trapped Sentinel brothers fills him in on just what joining with her will do to him?”
Nathaniel turned away fr
om the window, his eyes black. “We’ve had twenty-six thousand years down here to contemplate how to use the Nephilim; our tiresome brothers in etheric form have no concept of how to strategically use a human being. It somehow violates their flimsy moral code and ideals to use a hybrid to gain power. I am so over it.”
Malpas nodded. “But he’s only been here twenty-four hours. They’ve been on the run . . . and he is still of the Light—he won’t force her.”
“No, he won’t, and it doesn’t work that way. She must give herself freely; he must want her with only love in his heart . . . or he might as well pick up a human bitch in a bar.”
“That is why we still have time, Nathaniel,” Malpas hedged. “That kind of profound caring doesn’t happen overnight.”
“You’d better pray to our Dark Lord that it doesn’t,” Nathaniel said through his teeth. “So, as an insurance policy, bring me that old woman!”
“As reported earlier, we tried to get to the old woman . . . but the hag seems improved. Her voice was strong and vibrant. She even mocked our attempt.”
“Then find me a weakness! Every human has one! Bring me one of her errant children or her fucking grandchildren and do it now!”
Celeste had watched Azrael come into the room, put on his shirt, and eat in relative silence. His gaze met no one’s. Queen Aziza seemed nonplussed and a little amused as she gave them directions on how to find Bath Kol’s favorite club in the South Bronx.
“Journey well,” Queen Aziza said, hugging Celeste for a long time at the door. “Come back to me, my sister of Light.”
“I will. And thank you for everything,” Celeste said, giving her one last squeeze.
Queen Aziza looked up at Azrael. “My prayers cover you, too.” She released Celeste and went to Azrael, giving him a hug even though he seemed a little uncomfortable with the embrace. “You have important work to do and we deeply appreciate your sacrifice.”
“Thank you,” he said, then looked away. “Your hospitality and kindness are unparalleled. May you and your home always be blessed and protected.”
Celeste could feel Queen Aziza standing in the doorway as they headed for the train, and it was a long while before they heard it close behind them. She waited until they were on the train platform before she attempted to speak to Azrael, monitoring the pulsing muscle in his jaw.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Aw, man . . . not the one-word answers.” Celeste blew a stray curl up off her forehead.
“What do you want me to say?” He glanced at her, his eyes containing so many emotions that she could feel he had to look away again. “I thought my heart was going to explode inside my chest.”
“Are you serious?” she whispered, and stood closer.
“Why would I exaggerate something so intimate?” he said, leaning down and speaking in a harsh whisper. “I didn’t know what to expect . . . I wish you would have warned me—I...”
She swallowed a smile and cupped his cheek. “I would have, but our hostess might have become suspicious.”
“It’s not your fault, it’s just . . . awkward.”
“Maybe in front of Queen, if she was aware—but she wasn’t,” Celeste said, sifting through her mind for something that would assuage his damaged ego. It might not have been exactly true, but it was a healing balm to the man’s tattered nerves, and therefore the right thing to do.
“She’s a sensitive. She knew.”
“No . . . I’m sure she didn’t. Anyway, we were up in her office and she was telling me all about Bath Kol, so don’t trip.”
“Can we not talk about this at all?”
“No problem,” Celeste said, sidling up to him. “Let’s go dancing.”
“Dancing? We have to find Bath Kol, Celeste.”
“Like I said, she told me what he likes, where to find him, and a lot of stuff. The last thing we were talking or thinking about was you—just saying.”
“Really?”
Celeste nodded. “Really. Tell you all about it on the trains.”
Dark, desolate streets faced them as they walked beneath monstrous train trestles. Scantily clad women worked the corners, stopping pedestrians and car traffic alike, on a mission to make their quota. The sheer scale of the naked city when draped in her dangerous night attire was breathtaking. Bodies moved between structures like the walking dead. Mean dogs looked up from Dumpster feeds unafraid, as if they were in a developing nation that they’d laid claim to. Here even the rats took no prisoners, but the music was raw bait to draw even the most skittish human seeking fifteen minutes of fame.
A line wrapped around the corner. Angry gazes followed them as she tried to slow Azrael down, but he seemed not to understand the protocol as he walked right up to the bouncer, who matched his size. Azrael extended a fist. The huge bouncer smiled and pounded it.
“State your intention, muthafucka.”
“Wanna sweat till I bleed.”
The bouncer laughed and unclipped the velvet rope, then muttered something into a headset that she couldn’t hear.
Both men nodded. Azrael placed an arm over her shoulder and ushered her through the door. The moment they got in, a bouncer took their bags and gave Azrael a nod as if he were a VIP.
“How’d you do that?” Celeste asked. “You even sound like you’re from ’round the way. What the—”
“We’ve been over the fact that I can pick up from my environment, yes? When I’m clear and focused, I can do it more quickly. Besides, do you really think that a Sentinel as old as Bath Kol, who has the governance of prophecy, would have anybody but seers running the place he frequents? Other warrior brothers are here as well . . . in fact, Bath Kol owns this establishment...can’t you feel his energy running through the pipes and floorboards?”
Celeste opened and closed her mouth and hurried behind Azrael as he walked up to a crowd that had gathered around a competition happening on the dance floor, reached his hands out to either side, and seemed to be touching the music. Before she could say a word she actually saw whatever he was sensing ripple up his arms like a blue-white vibration carried on a beat, then he burst out laughing.
“Oh, wow . . . I get it. I now understand why he comes here,” Azrael murmured, then pulled back his arms, looking around, seeming satisfied. “Pump up the volume . . . the music feeds his Light. It’s all energy, Celeste . . . rhythmic, pulsing energy! Moving, dancing, just increases the wattage. If your vibration is low, this is exactly what you’d need!”
She was lost, a spectator to something happening beyond her comprehension. But seeing him flash that awesome megawatt smile of his was worth every second of it.
Just ahead of them, two young guys were dance-dueling in the center of a waxed wood floor. Bodies spinning, backflips requiring incomprehensible strength, made her just stand and stare. Gymnastic ability that would shame any Olympian made gravity seem like a nonissue for their athletic, fluid forms. They moved to the beat in unbelievable acrobatic combinations to a cheering crowd. Drinks sloshed and people screamed as one adolescent went up on one hand to drop roll into a spin, while the other turned his body into what looked like an electrified worm.
As one of the dancers conceded, Azrael stumbled out into the middle of the dance floor, having been shoved hard by a tall, blond guy who looked like a biker.
“Feel it, man!” the blond yelled. “C and C Music Factory! Old school! Give him a beat he can soak up! Spin it with some world music so he can show these young boys how the second-tier choirs do the damned thing. Jack Daniel’s on da house!”
“You’re insane!” Azrael shouted, laughing. “I don’t know how to do this!”
“Yes, you do!” The blond said, coming to the edge of the ring of spectators. “It’s the same as everything in martial arts—timing.”
Someone behind them yelled out, “Capoeira.”
Another voice shouted, “Fifty-two Blocks, man, Jailhouse!”
“Get mad,” the blond yelled. “Remember who th
e fuck you are, dude! Bring up your wattage and just dance! We need you in top form, and this is like training day, but more fun.”
Celeste’s head pivoted as several menacing guys flipped into the opening and the crowd went wild. Then suddenly they’d surrounded Azrael and the blond sucker punched him.
Blood and spit went one way and Azrael’s head snapped back in the opposite direction. Celeste screamed. Azrael’s eyes lit blue-white, then the charge rippled down his arms and legs, isolating every muscle as though it were on its own pulley.
“Oh, my Gawd!” one of the defending dancers shouted, gaining fist pounds all around. “This big mofo is sick, son!”
“DJ, make him sweat till he bleeeeeeds!” another called out as the DJ blended in world music and heavy percussion and began scratching records.
Azrael wiped his mouth with the back of his fist, laughed, and immediately dropped down low, spinning on his back, drawing sparks on the floor as his would-be attackers stepped back into the crowd. The blond put his hands up in front of his chest laughing as the throng of humanity cheered.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” the blond yelled, pointing at Azrael. “You’ve gotta work your human body and get used to it, man! Gotta push it to the limit so you know what it can do when you’re in a firefight—this ain’t the ether!”
Flipping up with a one-hand backward push-up, Azrael spun on that hand, legs whirring like helicopter blades, before his chest hit the floor in an exaggerated worm, and the next thing Celeste knew he was back on his feet, hands and feet a graceful blur of syncopated motion. Blue sweat lit up his dreadlocks, electricity seeming to run down every strand as he did a one-legged squat, fell back on his hands, mimicking what he’d seen the younger dancers do, then brought his legs over his head into a full split.
Reversing the split in a flash so that his legs were now on the floor, he pulled himself up to standing, never missing a beat, with his arms reaching up over his head as though gripping an invisible rope hand over hand.
