Eve of Darkness

by S. J. Day

  He was reaching for the switch on the wall when the stench of rotting soul wafted by his nostrils. Reed shifted from behind the desk to the waiting area. He sniffed the air around the kid and frowned. Werewolf.

  “It wears off,” he murmured, a smile forming. If they destroyed all knowledge of the masking agent, things could go back to the way they’d been before.

  Reed turned the lights on in the showroom, then took off down the hallway in search of the employee and purchasing records. Anyone or anything connected to the masonry would have to be secured. He dialed Mariel.

  “Abel,” she greeted. “Where are you?”

  “At the masonry, where are you?”

  “Cain found some suspicious materials and he wanted me to get them to the Gadara lab immediately.”

  “Cain is with you?” Reed spun around and headed back into the waiting area. Eve was on a goose chase. Or worse, walking into danger.

  He paused at the end of the hallway. The couch was bare but for a gnawed length of rope.

  The wolf was gone.

  Reed was so horrified by the thought of Eve in danger that he failed to sense any hazard to himself until a sharp-ended metal rod pierced clean through his right shoulder from back to front.

  Bellowing in pain, he dropped the phone. He gripped the protruding end of the pipe and yanked it free. It was four feet in length, hollow, and about an inch in diameter. Pivoting, Reed wielded it against his attacker. The blow struck the assailant in the face and he crumpled.

  It was an elderly man, if the silver threading the dark hair at his temples was any indication. A mage. Sprawled at Reed’s feet in his mortal guise—khaki slacks, loafers, and polo shirt. Harmless by all appearances.

  Reed healed his wound and freed his wings. They unfurled through his garments to extend their full span. His features and voice contorted, taking on the face of his fury. The air stirred around him, swirling in response to the surge of his power.

  The mage recoiled as he realized his mistake. A wand lay on the floor next to him, but he was too stunned to reach for it. He’d thought he wounded a fragile Mark, perhaps even Cain, not a mal’akh with full gifts.

  Stupid. He should have smelled the difference.

  “Vengeance is mine!” Reed roared, thrusting the pipe through the mage’s heart with such strength it cracked the floor beneath him.

  Blood bubbled on the mage’s lips, but he smiled. “And mine.” He exploded in a burst of white hot embers, leaving only a body-shaped pile of ashes around the protruding spear.

  Reed scowled. Then he smelled the smoke. His gaze lifted to the hallway. Shadows danced on the walls, betraying licks of flame.

  “Eve.”

  Retracting his wings, he turned toward the front door. As he neared the exit, it wrenched open and Cain raced in.

  “Where is she?” his brother demanded.

  Three of Sara’s guards came in after him. Followed by a group of wolves. One was clearly an Alpha—Charles Grimshaw, one of the more powerful pack leaders.

  “Where are the tengu?” Reed queried. “Wherever they are, is where she is.”

  Alec gestured toward the blood on Reed’s shirt and vest. “What happened to you?”

  “That happened.” Reed pointed to the ashes on the floor. “A mage.”

  Smoke began to pour from the back rooms, rolling down the hallway like a churning wave.

  “Malachai,” Grimshaw said. “Where is my son?”

  “Down there.” Reed pointed toward the rear of the building.

  The wolves ran headlong into the fire.

  Reed looked at Cain. There was a flash of comprehension in his brother’s eyes.

  Together, they raced after Eve.

  Eve backed warily away from the Nix, who took on a human shape but remained clear as water. She’d seen something like it in a movie once. The Abyss, she thought it was. A bark of laughter escaped her. She was losing her mind. Here she was, about to die, and she was thinking about motion pictures.

  “It’s warmer in Las Vegas,” the Nix purred.

  She would have expected that his words would come out garbled because of the water, but he sounded normal. At least as normal as Germanic-accented English could sound.

  “Why would I care about the weather in Vegas?” she retorted, reaching into her pocket.

  “Have you seen the water show at the Bellagio? It’s magnificent. You always come away with something new. Tonight, I found out where you were.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Not so lucky for you.”

  Eve shook her head. “Why me?”

  “I do what I’m told,” he said, his lower half beginning to swirl like a vortex.

  “What?”

  The door opened. Eve gasped in relief and turned her head to find Reed.

  What she found was the wolf.

  Her heart went to her throat. Reed. Are you okay?

  “Sorry to interrupt.” The kid grinned. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

  “You little shit!” She lunged toward him.

  But he skipped out, slamming the door. A second later a heavy thud against it suggested he’d blocked the exit in some way.

  The Nix laughed and sidled closer. He was toying with her. She knew he could nab her in less than a heartbeat, but he wanted her to squirm. He wanted to frighten her half to death before he killed her.

  Eve backtracked toward the kiln. Her plan was lame and probably doomed, but it was all she had. As she moved closer to the kiln it became warmer. The Nix advanced, smiling.

  She pulled the small pouch from her pocket, praying the plasticized lining was intact. Otherwise, she was screwed.

  “What is that?” he asked, his lower half spinning with such agitation that he looked like a genie.

  “A present for you.”

  “Oh?”

  Tearing the package open, she was relieved to find green powder inside. It hadn’t gotten wet. “Do you like limes?”

  “What?”

  Eve leaped to the side of the kiln opening and the Nix surged toward her. She tossed the powder at him and the water took on a verdant cast. The eddy slowed and he tilted precariously. She quickly ripped open another and chucked that at him, too. The Nix tottered toward her.

  “W-what have you d-done?” he gurgled.

  Focusing on her super strength, Eve caught him as he tipped. She tossed him onto the rollers, then shoved his inert, semigelatinous form straight into the kiln.

  He screamed and she stared, horrified. The floor began to shudder, then the walls. Dust sifted down from the exposed metal rafters. The pallet truck bounced along the violently vibrating floor and the door to the tengu room dislodged.

  Eve grabbed the downed Mark and dragged him to the exit. She tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Pounding against the door, she shouted for help, trying to be heard over the horrible whining that emanated from the kiln. The tengu raced toward her in a rambunctious aggregation.

  “Help!” she yelled, beating at the door. “Help!”

  Suddenly the door gave way and she fell . . .

  . . . straight into Alec’s arms. He squeezed the air from her.

  “Time to go,” he muttered, tugging her out. He reached back in for the Mark, tossing him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  Reed stepped out of the shadows. He held the young wolf by the scruff of his neck. He tossed him into the kiln room and shut the door. Then he picked up a length of wood and propped it against the portal, trapping him inside.

  The sound of sirens turned Eve’s head and she saw the showroom engulfed in flames.

  “The animals!” she cried, setting off at a run.

  Hard arms caught her about the waist and held her back. She fought against Reed’s hold, but he was too strong.

  “Eve,” he said, his voice to her ear. “It’s the Lord’s will.”

  But it was too senseless for her to accept. If God had loved them, he would never have allowed them to suffer as they had. He would hav
e allowed them some tiny bit of comfort before death. Instead he’d used her to give them hope, then cruelly shattered it.

  “We’ve got to go,” Alec said, running toward a group of people dressed like the guy he had slung over his back.

  “Where are the wolves?” he asked when they reached them.

  “Still inside,” a female Mark replied. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled.

  Another Mark came running from a shedlike building. As he drew to a halt before them, he reported, “It would take days to sort through all the materials in there.”

  A tremendous whining noise came from the kiln building, the sound of metal stretching and tearing. Alec shook his head. “We don’t even have minutes.” He looked at Eve. “What did you do to it?”

  “I put the Nix in there.”

  “Dear God,” the female Mark breathed.

  “Shit,” Alec muttered. “That thing is going to blow. Run!”

  Eve sprinted behind him to the car in a daze. They managed to drive a block’s distance before the kiln exploded.

  The fireball was seen from miles away.

  CHAPTER 21

  Gadara paced behind his desk in the penthouse office of Gadara Tower. Dressed in jeans and a white denim button-down shirt, he looked both handsome and leisurely. However, he definitely wasn’t the latter.

  “You are a menace, Ms. Hollis,” he said grimly. “There is no other word for you.”

  From her seat in front of the archangel’s desk, Eve glanced first at Alec, who sat on her left, and then Reed, who sat on her right. Two days had passed since the incident in Upland. Yesterday had been recovery time to make up for the twenty-four hours without sleep the day before. Today was the day of reckoning.

  “You told us to take care of the tengu,” she reminded. “We did.”

  “By destroying a brand-new air-conditioning unit and crushing a custom Lexus,” the archangel retorted. “You failed to mention that when you related the events a few days ago.”

  “Think how much the tengu would have cost you over the long haul,” Alec suggested. “We saved you money.”

  “And what is the benefit of the disaster in Upland?” Gadara queried crossly.

  “You told me to get my hands dirty,” Eve said.

  He paused, glaring. “You blew up an entire city block!”

  “I didn’t, the Nix did.”

  “How did you manage that, by the way?” Reed asked in a conversational tone. As usual, he was dressed to the nines and looked very divine.

  “Jell-O.”

  “Really? Clever.”

  “Totally an accident. I didn’t think it would work.”

  Alec reached over and picked up her hand. The complete opposite of his brother, he was wearing leather pants and a T-shirt. “But it did. It was brilliant.”

  He didn’t say it wasn’t a coincidence that she had picked up instant gelatin in the convenience store, but she knew he was thinking it.

  “Excuse me.” Gadara’s palms hit the desk and he leaned forward. “Are we done patting ourselves on the back?”

  “Ya know,” Eve drawled. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you wanted us to fail.”

  “Ridiculous,” he scoffed. “I benefit only when you succeed, but at this rate, you will drive the firm into bankruptcy.”

  “I have a plan,” she said. “I’ll just stay home quietly until it’s time to start training.”

  It took a moment for his glower to fade into a reluctant smile. “You start training next week.”

  “Oh?” Reed straightened from his lounging position. “Whose rotation is it?”

  “Mine”

  Eve didn’t miss the sudden tension in the men on either side of her.

  “Better me than Sara, yes?” Gadara asked, staring at Reed.

  Reed made a choked noise. Alec shook his head.

  “Rotation?” Eve asked.

  “The archangels share training duties in a rotation,” Alec explained.

  “Oh.” She looked at Gadara.

  “I am the best,” he said modestly.

  She laughed. “Of course you are.”

  “Anything from Hank regarding the stuff Mariel brought back from the masonry?” Alec asked.

  “Like Ms. Hollis’s gelatin idea,” the archangel said, sinking into his seat, “Hank says it is very clever. But there is something missing, and considering the creators are mages, Hank is certain there was an incantation of some sort involved.”

  “I wonder how many people knew the recipe,” Reed said.

  “Not many, would be my guess.”

  “Mine, too,” Alec agreed. “The rarer it is, the more value it had to Malachai and his wife.”

  “Hank believes it would have been a couple’s spell,” Gadara continued, “something a man and woman would cast together in order to affect the largest number. By your accounts, several types of Infernals were successfully able to use it.”

  “Unless there were several kinds of masks,” Eve offered.

  All three men looked at her.

  She shrugged. “Just sayin’.”

  “I killed Malachai,” Reed said. “The rest of the materials were destroyed in the explosion.”

  “The house on Falcon Circle was raided,” Gadara finished, “and anything of interest was removed. I have a team investigating the various leads we found there.”

  “The Alpha might be able to help us find the woman,” Reed suggested.

  “I doubt it.” Alec’s face was grim. “We killed his son. He’s not going to be feeling too charitable.”

  “If the grandparents hadn’t led the boy astray, he probably wouldn’t have attracted notice. The fault lies with them.”

  “Try telling that to a grief-stricken parent,” Eve said. “They don’t always have their head on straight.”

  “Right.” Alec squeezed her hand.

  “Anything else?” she asked Gadara.

  He reached into the wooden cigar box on his desk and withdrew one. She wondered what he did with them, since he didn’t smoke. Just gnaw on them until they got soggy? The thought grossed her out, so she pushed it aside.

  The archangel studied her. “In a hurry to go?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “Stay on the radar,” he admonished. “It is there to protect you.”

  “No worries. I have a date with my couch and the first season of Dexter on DVD.”

  “Odd viewing choice.”

  Eve stood and all three men pushed to their feet. “Considering my life? Are you kidding? It’s like watching Leave It to Beaver.”

  She moved toward the elevator. Alec followed after her.

  “Abel.” Gadara’s voice arrested everyone. “I’d like you to stay and go over your report regarding the death of your Mark.”

  Reed nodded and hung back.

  Turning inside the car to face him, Eve’s gaze met his just before the doors closed.

  His wink good-bye followed her all the way home.

  Yellow police tape and a crime scene sticker sealed Mrs. Basso’s door. Eve couldn’t help but stare at it as they passed. Alec tossed an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer, offering support.

  “This is terrible in so many ways,” she said.

  “I’m sorry, angel.”

  “I loved her.” She struggled to push her key into the lock of her door. It was hard to see through tears.

  Alec took her keys from her and worked his way through the dead bolts. He pushed open the door and gestured her in.

  “I liked her,” Eve continued, setting her Coach bag atop the console table where she kept her gun. The screen door to the patio was open and a crisp sea breeze wafted through her sheer curtains, billowing through them like a ship’s sails. “Really liked her. Some people you only like a little, some you only like on certain occasions, and some you only like when you’re drunk. But I liked her all ways and all the time.”

  He pulled her into a tight embrace.

  Her hands fiste
d in his shirt. “I’m going to miss her. And I’ll probably hate whoever moves in next door.”

  “Don’t say that,” he murmured. “Give them a chance.”

  She rubbed her face into the cotton of his T-shirt, drying her tears. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Can I offer a suggestion?”

  Leaning back, Eve met his gaze. “I mean about our living arrangements.”

  His mouth curved in a smile that curled her toes. “Of course I’ll move in with you, angel. I was just waiting for you to ask.”

  “My dad would kill me.”

  “This coming from the gal who survived a tengu, a Nix, and a wolf in a week?”

  “They have nothing on my dad’s silent treatment, let me tell you.” She pulled away. “I mean he’s silent most of the time, but when he is peeved about something, he becomes really silent. Oppressively silent. I hate it. Makes me squirm.”

  “Guess I better go with plan B, then.”

  She frowned. “What’s plan B?”

  “Moving in next door when the police are done with it.”

  “What?”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “It’s creepy.”

  “She was a sweet old lady, angel. She’s with God now; she’s not hanging around worrying about us.”

  The doorbell rang.

  They both stilled. Alec arched a brow in silent query. She shook her head. Knocking came next, an annoying impatient rapping.

  “Ms. Hollis?”

  Eve groaned in recognition of the voice.

  “It’s Detectives Ingram and Jones from the Anaheim Police Department. We’d like to speak with you.”

  Blowing out her breath, she went to the door and opened it. “Hello, Detectives.”

  “Can we come in?”

  “Certainly.” She stepped out of the way, her heels rapping on the hardwood floor. She’d dressed for business to see Gardara—skirt, blouse, and chignon. Now, she was doubly glad to be formidably attired.

  The two policemen entered and she was once again struck by what an odd pairing they were. One short and thin, the other tall and portly. But there was a synergy between them that told her they had been working together a long time.

  “Would either of you like some coffee?” she asked.