by Rachel Green
Julie raised an eyebrow. A nurse was good. A surgeon would have been better.
Harold wore a worried expression. “Puriel’s going to be angry.”
“I thought that was a sin? Do angels get angry?”
“Oh, yes.” Jasfoup reached past Julie to get to the sink. “‘Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’ If that’s not anger I don’t know what is.”
“Don’t get comfortable. I found the dragon. We can collect it as soon as you’re ready.”
“That’s great news.” Jasfoup grinned and kissed the top of Julie’s head. “Where is it?”
“In the park. We’ll do out the stables for him.”
Jasfoup smiled. “You’ve decided to let us keep him then?”
“Why not? It’ll be the experience of a lifetime.”
“No! Keeping it would bring the wrath of the angels.” Gillian hissed. “Reconsider, Julie, please. One angel is bad enough. Imagine our chances if more came.”
“More?” Linda sank into a chair. “More of those things?”
“Let’s go.” Jasfoup opened the door again.
“Have you any more of those spell balls, Julie?” Felicia gripped her sister’s arm. “Just in case?”
Julie nodded. “I made them while Harold was as– Er...busy. Here.” She handed her sister three marble fetiches. “Fire, ice and shadow again. Use them well.”
“I will.” Felicia raised the fetiche eye. “Let’s go and get your baby back.”
“Right. Everybody into the car.” Jasfoup held the door open. “You can go in the front, Julie, and I’ll ride in the back with Gillian and Harold.” He looked across at Linda. “Stay here, love. It’ll be safer.”
“But...” Linda began.
“Just ask Devious for anything you need. Nice to meet you.”
Chapter 50
Felicia pulled the car to the side of the road, the wipers working double-time to clear the heavy rain from the windshield. “That’s her! Him, I mean. Puriel.” She pointed at the angel. Puriel, alerted by the screeching brakes, looked back and spotted them.
Jasfoup frowned. “Yes, we can see him. He’s without his skin, so mortals can’t. Why doesn’t he just fly?”
Felicia nodded. “Perhaps he lost the habit. He looks so innocent, doesn’t he?”
“Appearances are deceptive.” Jasfoup unfurled his wings. “Remember, he’s nearly killed you twice and I can’t go anywhere near him. I won’t be able to help.”
“I know, old friend.” Harold patted his shoulder. “Look, he’s making a run for it. We’ll have to follow him.”
Felicia accelerated as Puriel darted into the park. The car screeched to a halt again at the gates.
“You can’t stop here.” Devious peered out of the windscreen and pointed at the road. “It’s a no parking zone.”
“I don’t remember inviting you along.” Harold picked up the imp by the scruff of his neck. “You’re supposed to be looking after Linda. Go home this instant.”
“Anyone who takes our car will become a toad.” Julie grinned. “I read a spell for that.”
Jasfoup laid a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “Let the imp stay. He was helpful when Felicia was in trouble.”
Felicia put her foot down again, resulting in a blaring horn from the driver she cut off. She sped around the corner into the parking area.
“Do we tackle Puriel first or the dragon?” Gillian climbed out of the back seat.
“First things first. We’ve got to get the dragon back.” Jasfoup eyed the entrance to the park and balled his hands into fists.
“Who are you supposed to be?” Harold nudged him. “Batman?”
Gillian loped off into the park, her figure swallowed by the rain in seconds.
“We have to get after her. She can’t handle him alone.” Felicia unlocked the trunk of her car and drew out a sword. She passed it to Harold. “Here. I’m told you’re good with a sword.”
* * * *
Felicia ran after Gillian. This close to the gate, the park was well paved and open, closely cropped grass interspersed with flowerbeds. She soon caught up and they easily kept Puriel in sight. Jasfoup kept up easily but Julie fell behind, Harold hanging back to protect her.
Felicia shifted to half-wolf, both hands changed to claws, ready to fight. She could feel the three fetiches in her pocket and the odd one still in its box.
Gillian stopped so suddenly Felicia ran straight into her and fell over. She looked up from the ground at the sight of the angel facing them.
“Nephilim.” Puriel grew in size just enough to be intimidating. Rain hissed as it struck his burning flesh. “And friends, I see. You should have taken Raphael’s warning more seriously. You might have lived another day.”
“Time to go home, angel.” Gillian extended her claws and teeth.
Puriel laughed “Your petty prayers won’t save you this time.”
“I can’t come any closer. I’ll burn.” Jasfoup hovered at a safe distance.
Felicia jumped to her feet and slipped a stone into her hand, ready to throw.
“Wait!” Julie arrived and clamped a hand on her arm. “We need to know where my son is!”
Felicia ducked as a tall gray figure flew over them and landed in front of Puriel.
Julie released her arm. “That answers that.” They stared at the new arrival. The dragon was at least twelve feet long with a similar wingspan. “He’s grown a bit in twenty-four hours.”
“Just a bit.” Felicia tried to equate the huge creature with the small bundle of scales that she’d last seen in Julie’s arms. “Shall we flank?”
Gillian nodded, slipping right while Felicia went left. Jasfoup was left staring at the dragon.
The dragon attacked, swinging its tail in an arc intended to connect with the angel’s head, but Puriel ducked the blow easily, using the miss to draw in close in an attempt to catch the dragon and reduce it to ash. It managed to shift its stance and twist, using the momentum of its tail to spin and strike with claws and teeth against the oncoming figure. Felicia danced about on one side, waiting for an opening to cast her fetiche.
The dragon’s next flurry of blows connected, forcing Puriel away from Felicia and Gillian toward the puddles of the park’s central paved area. Felicia followed cautiously, trying to edge her way round for a clear shot at the angel, but the two giants were moving too fast for her to get a clear throw.
“We have to help.” Gillian half-crouched, half-ran, keeping as close to the fight as she could. “What if he’s killed?”
“Then the angels will have completed their task and go.” Felicia mentally crossed her fingers. “They think the dragon is a sign of the apocalypse, remember.”
“Fliss! Watch out!” Jasfoup’s shout galvanized Gillian into action. She threw herself onto Felicia, forcing her to the ground as a new antagonist stepped into view–a dark man in a leather biker’s jacket and trousers, a gun in one hand and a flaming sword in the other.
Felicia would know his face anywhere. It was etched on her memory from the gallery. She scrambled away as he sent a stream of bullets toward Gillian.
Gillian vanished, or appeared to, since Felicia couldn’t follow the vampire’s back-flip. The bullets found the dragon instead, stitching a line across its chest and toppling the beast to the mud.
“Oops.” The gunman chuckled. “Wrong target. Still, there’s a bullet for all of you.” He trained the gun on Harold. “Mr. Waterman, I presume? It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, though I suspect the pleasure will not be mutual. They call me Raphael.”
“No!” Felicia spun toward the shooter, using her momentum to propel the stone toward him and strike him in the chest. A nimbus of light spread out from the area and Raphael dropped the sword to beat at it. Despite his efforts the softly glowing light spread, encompassing his arms and legs, and he dropped the gun as his fingers hardened, frozen in place.
Gillian sped toward him and picked up the discarded sword. She tossed it to her. “Take out Pur
iel!”
She caught the sword and turned in time to see the angel crouching over the fallen dragon, deftly removing the skin. She ran toward the scene, witnessing the reptile flash into superheated ash. Puriel was just rising as Felicia swung the sword at him.
Puriel dodged the blow and side-stepped to burn her, but stopped short. Felicia took the opportunity to cut upward into the angel’s torso and Puriel shrieked as his own flames combined with the sword’s. His whole being ignited, the celestial fire of an angel’s sword enough to fell its makers. He was consumed from the outside in, the heat forcing her to back off and turn away from the incandescent flames. Several moments passed until the light died, the rain hissing on the hot ashes.
Felicia blinked away after images of the fire and wiped rain-plastered hair from her face to see Devious, slowly lowering a gun bigger than him.
“That’s three times you’ve saved us now, young lad.” Harold patted him on the head. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“Think nothing of it.” Devious grinned and handed the gun to Gillian, who was nursing a burned hand and being tended to by Jasfoup.
The demon looked up. “The sword belonged to an angel. Any creature of evil will get burned by touching it. Gillian is genetically evil, at least by His standards.” Jasfoup pointed upward.
Felicia looked down at her palms. They were not even singed.
She walked back the short distance to where Raphael stood, and stared at the immobile angel, held as if he were crucified on the night and the rain. The others caught up with her and stood around him in awe.
“That was the transporter stone?” Gillian shook her head. “I could do with a few of those.”
“It was the only one in existence and I doubt we’d persuade Meinwen to set another up for us.” Jasfoup sighed. “Just as well, too. Imagine those in the arsenals of vampire hunters.” He chuckled at Gillian’s shudder.
“Such power is not for us to abuse.” Julie held her eye high to see the immobile angel. “Its spirit is trapped in Hell. What we see here is only a shell.”
“Is it safe?” Gillian stepped forward, her hand outstretched.
“No!” Harold and Jasfoup shouted in unison.
Gillian touched the surface. “It feels like metal. Her knuckled tattoo on the metal returned a hollow retort.
Jasfoup shook his head. “I was worried that touching him would either trap you in the same effect or release him.” He shrugged. “I’m glad to be wrong.”
Gillian stepped back again. “I suppose not. I had no idea that such a simple charm would be so effective. What do we do now then?”
“It’s quite safe.” Julie ran a hand across the angel’s chest. “The spell effect was spent once the light died.”
Jasfoup walked around the angel. “Egads! They’re ugly critters, aren’t they?”
“Ugly?” Harold considered the question. “Perhaps from your perspective, but from a mortal’s point of view, they’re the epitome of beauty.”
“You’re seeing him in a form he’s chosen for himself, though,” Jasfoup pointed out. “In reality, they’re all wings and eyes. Raphael is the Binder of Azazel and the direct command of...um... Him. He carries out the punishments of defiant angels.”
“Hence the guns and the sword, I suppose.”
“He took his job seriously.”
Harold nodded. “So what type of angel is he, then?”
“The Book of Tobit names him an archangel.” Jasfoup folded his arms and rested his chin on one hand. “But I couldn’t actually tell you.”
“This is Raphael the Binder.” Azazel walked toward them, the rain falling to within an inch of his form before bouncing away. He regarded the quartet with hooded eyes. “You surprise me, daughters. I never dared hope you would prevail against angels. That you could defeat not only Puriel, but Raphael herself...” He shook his head.
“Herself?” Felicia frowned. “I thought angels were always male.”
“You thought wrong, though none would blame you. She has killed many times to prevent that little piece of gossip getting out.”
“Why? What does it matter?”
“Would you have treated her differently had you known?” Azazel nodded. “Of course you would. It’s in your nature. So it is for the other angels. They would never have taken her seriously. She would never have become the Binder if her secret was known.”
“Are we free then?” Felicia drew lines across the dirt with the sword point. “Will the angels leave us alone from now on?”
“Leave you alone?” Azazel cocked his head to one side. “Perhaps. They think the dragon dead, the apocalypse averted.”
“And is it?”
“For a few years yet.” Azazel smiled.
“Can I keep his...her weapons?” Harold hefted the sword.
“Yes.” Azazel deftly unbuckled Raphael’s scabbard and holster and handed them to him. Now be off. I have work to do. You have your future to deal with and I have mine.”
Gillian smiled. “What happens when the future has come and gone?”
“Then, vampire...” Azazel frowned. “Then you will belong to me.”
Felicia plucked at her arm. “Come on, that day is too far off to fret about.” She gave Harold an upward nod and a pointed look at Devious.
Harold picked up the imp and tucked him under one arm as they backed off, leaving the grigori to enjoy his time alone with Raphael. There were some things about angels he really didn’t want to know.
“What about my child?” Julie stood over the snaking line of ash, all that was left of the hatchling dragon.
“It’s better this way.” Jasfoup folded his arm across her shoulder and pulled her away. “Better to let them live in the imagination.” He gave her a squeeze. “Perhaps we can have another child.”
“I’d like that.” Julie put an arm around his waist. “How did Azazel suddenly appear?”
“Who can tell?” Jasfoup risked a glance back toward the duke of Hell. “He was probably watching us all along and just appeared when the battle was won.”
“Taking the credit without the risk.” Gillian moved away.
Felicia led the way back to the car. Harold followed with a sword in each hand, swishing them to make the air crackle with released ozone and making schm schm noises.
She took a final look over her shoulder and willed away the gooseflesh when she saw the glint of reflected streetlight on Azazel’s exposed blade.
Harold trudged back to the car, the sword slung from his shoulder beneath his coat. “I didn’t know Raphael was a woman. Who’d have thought it?”
“He wasn’t a woman.” Jasfoup faltered. “She wasn’t, I mean. Not in the beginning. For years, Him upstairs would only accept the company of other men. It was only after the Eden fiasco that he relented and allowed the angels to decide what gender they wanted to be. Less than one percent are female, even now.”
“That’s hardly a basis for an equal opportunities establishment.” Gillian nursed her injured hand. The blisters on her palm had risen and burst, leaving her with a jagged line of slowly healing scar tissue.
“Oh, He’s all for equal ops, I’m told.” Jasfoup was sauntering, the only one of them not affected by the rain. “He’ll take anyone as long as they’re less intelligent than Him, beautiful and male.”
“That’s a shame.” Devious peered out from the folds of Harold’s coat. “You’re one quality short, master.”
Chapter 51
Felicia almost bumped into Harold when he stopped and turned a slow circle. “What’s up?”
“Heaven.” Harold looked distracted. “Do you smell that?”
“Smell what?” Felicia sniffed. “I can smell wet grass, trees, early roses.” She turned in a small circle. “Dog shit, tarmac, exhaust fumes, sulfur.”
“Sulfur, yes.” Harold nodded. “Where’s it coming from?”
“The other side of the road, why?”
“That’s not just sulfur, Felicia. That’s brimstone. My
father is nearby.”
“But I thought your father was–”
“Lucifer, yes.” Harold looked at Jasfoup. “Did you know he was coming up here?”
“Of course. The Lord of Hell always refers his itinerary to a level five tempter for approval.”
Harold frowned. “Was that sarcasm?”
“Of course.” Jasfoup clapped a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “He doesn’t consult me about his visits to the mortal realm. Why would he? It’s not your birthday, is it?”
“No.” Harold chewed his lip. “It’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think, that Lucifer comes up to the surface just as we’re finishing off two angels.”
“No such thing as coincidence. Do you think he’s involved?”
“There’s one way to find out.” Harold looked at Felicia. “Find him, Felicia. Find him. There’s a good girl.”
“I’m not a dog, you know.” Felicia might have been snarling, but it was more for her than for Harold. She could only be grateful that she wasn’t in wolf form, where everyone would see her tail wagging. “Come on then.”
She loped across the road, heedless of traffic. The others followed at a more cautious pace with Gillian in the lead and Jasfoup at the back guiding Julie, despite Wrack’s presence.
They caught up with Felicia at the back door of the Darkside and went in using the contents of Harold’s wallet as an all-areas pass, much to his disgust. Harold nodded to people standing around the dance floor, smiling and waving, and once in a while giving someone a hug.
Gillian snarled whenever he seemed to be on intimate terms with a stranger. “Do you know these people?”
“Not in the slightest. I’m just being friendly.”
“They’re cattle.”
Harold wagged his finger at her. “Never judge a book by its cover, Gillian. I learned that the first time I read a book of vampire stories and realized it wasn’t meant to be funny.”
“Felicia? Which way?”
Julie held up a hand for silence, cocking her head to one side. “Listen. Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” All Felicia could hear was the thump of the music.
