by Bryan Davis
“I think so.” She grabbed his hand and climbed to her feet, still shaky but no longer teetering. “Tamiel will wonder why the truck’s here.”
“I’ll think of something.” Matt laid a hand on the hood. “It might be our getaway vehicle. Besides your knife, the shotgun’s our last line of defense.”
Chapter 18
TAMIEL
During the next minute, Matt’s danger sense rose steadily. Waiting for Tamiel felt like standing blindfolded in the middle of a highway. Eventually, a truck was bound to come along and flatten him into a pancake.
Finally, a winged humanlike figure appeared over the trees in the direction of the front gate. Seconds later, Tamiel’s familiar form took shape. As his wings flapped, the breeze blew his black sweater and pants against his rail-thin frame, and his dark curly hair tossed about, sometimes spilling over his pale forehead.
While they watched, Matt edged closer to Darcy and unhooked the key ring from his belt loop. He slid three keys off and slipped them into her palm. “Hide these. Better to keep him guessing.”
“Got it.” She hid them in her pants pocket.
Matt pushed the ring into his own pocket, two keys still attached.
When Tamiel landed near the circular yard’s center pole, he looked at Matt and Darcy in turn. “My agents tell me that the five keys are gone. I assume you have them.”
Matt pointed a finger at him. “Listen, freak. I’m not giving you a scrap of information until you tell me what you did with my mother.”
Tamiel folded in his wings. “Arramos took her to a safe place. I expect him to arrive with her very soon. She is unharmed, and the two of you will be reunited shortly.”
“If you’ve hurt her, I’ll . . .” He pressed his lips together. It was better not to lob an empty threat. “Okay, we got the keys, but they’re hidden.”
“A clever move. I hope they are close by.” Tamiel glanced at the pickup. “Have you seen the driver?”
“He was here for a couple of minutes,” Matt said. “I think he got a headache or something. Had to leave.”
“He didn’t protest your presence?”
“Annoyed, I think, but he seemed interested in hiring Darcy to work here.”
“Is that so?” Narrowing his eyes, Tamiel took a step closer to Darcy. “What happened? That wound looks fresh. Did Matt hit you?”
“As if you care.” Darcy covered the wound. “And no, he didn’t hit me. I banged my head against something.”
“Just get on with it,” Matt said. “Why are we here?”
“To activate and obtain the sixth key, of course.”
“Since you seem to know that we don’t have it yet, you must have hidden it.”
“Oh, it is hidden. Quite well, in fact. The hiding place will manifest itself soon.” Tamiel pivoted, gazing at the houses one by one. “Are you curious about who dwells here and why?”
“We guessed prisoners of some kind.” Matt nodded at the pole and pillory at the center of the yard. “And if they get out of line, you punish them over there.”
Tamiel gave Darcy a probing stare. “So your traveling companion has not yet discerned what this compound is for. I thought the address label I chose would give it away.” He shrugged. “No matter. We shall proceed with the next step.”
“What next step?”
“I find it comical that you ask questions that I am obviously getting ready to answer. Your love of genre novels is the likely reason.” Tamiel withdrew a phone from his pocket and studied the screen, then looked up. “My master should arrive in approximately thirty seconds.”
Matt and Darcy looked up as well. The brightening sky still displayed its familiar reddish hue. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
“How strange.” Tamiel checked his phone again. “He has always been punctual in the past. Perhaps one of his captives gave him some trouble.”
Matt whispered to Darcy, “One of his captives?”
She gestured toward Tamiel. “Ask him.”
“And get slapped with another genre-novel comment?” He shook his head. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
After several more minutes, Matt’s danger sense heightened again, stronger than ever. Although every morning these days carried a sailor’s warning, now it felt like a category-5 hurricane was about to blast through.
As if formed by one of the reddish clouds, a dragon emerged from the overcast sky and descended toward them. A woman dangled limply from its rear claws.
“Mom?” Matt whispered.
“No,” Darcy said. “That woman has white hair.”
Matt focused on the woman’s head. Indeed, the apparently unconscious captive had long white hair and wore green pants and an orange shirt. “It’s Sapphira. She’s the queen of Second Eden. But that’s the same dragon who took my mother. He has to be Arramos.”
When the dragon arrived, it circled the yard once, then set Sapphira down gently near the center pole before landing in a trot. Heaving sparks-laden snorts, it settled to its belly and rested its head on the ground.
“Is that Arramos?” Matt asked.
Tamiel nodded, though not with his usual confident expression.
“Then where’s my mother? And what’s wrong with Sapphira?”
“We administered a drug that keeps Sapphira sedated. Regarding your mother, I will have to find out from Arramos.” Tamiel waved a hand. “Come. We will speak to him, but I advise you to mind your tongue. He has destroyed many humans for displaying the slightest discourtesy. He is not nearly as forgiving as I am.”
As they walked toward the pole, Darcy kept pace, still wobbling, though the bleeding from her head wound had stopped. He could easily prop her up, but it would be better for now to refrain from showing kindness. Since Tamiel assumed they were still bitter enemies, that assumption might be useful.
Darcy whispered to Matt, “Do you think he’s really Satan?”
“I’ve been told that. We’d better watch our step.” Matt leaned closer to her and kept his voice as low as possible. “Let’s be the Matt and Darcy of old. Understand?”
She nodded and said nothing more.
When they arrived at the pole, Tamiel bowed to Arramos. “The time has come, Excellency.”
“Indeed.” Arramos’s eyes seemed dull, a washed-out red, weak in comparison to the flaming pupils in other dragons’ orbs. “After all these millennia.”
“If I may ask, where is Bonnie?”
“I returned to the island, and she was gone. The shackles were open.”
Tamiel stroked his chin. “Interesting. Did you try to follow her scent?”
“Her scent left the ground abruptly, so I assume she flew away. With a breeze blowing, I had no hope of tracking her.”
Tamiel turned to Matt. “Does your mother know this address?”
Matt furrowed his brow. Did she? She had looked at the GPS map several times, but that didn’t mean that she had memorized any addresses. If she managed to find his note at the farmhouse, maybe she knew it by now, but providing Tamiel with that information would be stupid.
“I see that Matt is unwilling to tell us,” Tamiel said, “but let’s assume that she either knows or will find out. She is a very resourceful woman.”
“Resourceful and stubborn.” Arramos’s ears flattened. “I would like to know how she escaped. I detected no other scent, human or dragon. The manacles were opened without undue force, and the candlestones were still intact.”
“Help from above, I assume, which means that she will come and fulfill the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” Matt asked.
“You simply can’t resist the questions, can you?” Tamiel smiled. “In due time, young man. In due time.”
“Whatever.” Matt edged closer to Sapphira. She lay on her back, her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. With silky white hair spilling over her shoulders and a smooth, ivory face shining in the growing sunlight, she seemed to radi
ate a holy aura.
“Excellency,” Tamiel said, “you seem weary. Are you tired from searching for Bonnie?”
“That journey was a trifle. An unusual weakness has beset me.” Arramos inhaled through his snout. “Something foul is in the air. It smells like one of Semiramis’s potions.”
“I noticed it as well. I have a theory about it that I will reveal when you and I are alone.”
A growl rumbled from Arramos’s throat. “Perhaps I have the same theory. I have long been wary of those who allow her to plot her schemes.”
Tamiel shifted from foot to foot. “Well, in any case, are you strong enough to provide incentive for Matt and Darcy to refrain from interfering with what I am about to do?”
“I am.” Arramos spewed a fiery rope that cracked like a whip on top of Matt’s head. It snapped back, ripping hair and flesh.
“Augh!” Matt crouched and laid a hand on the wound. Heat from his scalp warmed his palm.
Darcy pulled back his hand. “Let me have a look.”
Matt winced, both from the pain and from the fact that Darcy had forgotten to be the old Darcy.
“What a wimp!” She jerked him to his feet. “It’s just a little burn. I swear, you’re just as big a sissy as when we lived together.”
Tamiel looked at Arramos and smiled. “Sibling love. Isn’t it touching? Especially after he rescued her from death at the fourth door.”
“I am not interested in their quarrels,” Arramos said. “Let us proceed.”
“As you wish.” Tamiel lifted Sapphira and set her against the pole in a sitting position. Propping her up with his leg, he raised her arm and clasped her wrist with one of the dangling manacles. Then, as she tipped to the side, he raised her other arm and shackled it.
Sapphira sat with her head low and her arms stretched back, her body leaning slightly to one side, kept from falling by the chains.
“Now Sapphira’s incentive.” Tamiel walked toward a house, though not the one where the pickup driver lay. “I will return in a moment.”
While Arramos watched Tamiel’s progress, Matt looked Sapphira over. A tiny white tab adhered to her neck, similar to the one Tamiel had used on Mom to keep her knocked out.
He whispered to Darcy, “I’m going to insult you. I want you to slap me as hard as you can. Don’t worry about hurting me.”
Her brow arched for a split second, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
“This is all your fault,” Matt barked. “If you hadn’t been such a witch, we could’ve gotten out of this mess. You’re just a dirty little hooker. You’ll never change.”
“How dare you!” Darcy reared back and slapped him across the face. Matt faked a stumble toward Sapphira and fell against the pole.
“Stop the bickering!” Arramos lashed out again with a fiery rope that caught Matt’s neck and sliced deeply. “My next whip will take out an eye.”
Matt groaned. This one hurt even worse than the other. He grabbed the pole with one hand and removed Sapphira’s tab with the other, palming it as he flipped her hair to cover the spot. She twitched but stayed silent.
“Get up!” Arramos shouted. “You have two seconds.”
“Okay. Okay.” Matt whispered to Sapphira, “Pretend to be unconscious and listen for my cues.”
He climbed to his feet and held a hand over the new wound. No blood flowed. The fire probably cauterized the cut, or maybe his healing touch was working after all.
As he shuffled a couple of steps away from the pole, he spoke loudly enough for Sapphira to hear. “Why is Tamiel going to that house?”
Arramos gave him a scornful stare. “You will soon see.”
“I’m just wondering if you’re going to threaten someone to get Sapphira to do your bidding.” Matt stepped in front of Arramos and faced him, though he furtively glanced at Sapphira every few seconds. “I mean, you could probably set that house on fire from here, couldn’t you? Why bother hauling someone out and dragging them over here?”
Sapphira’s eyelids fluttered. Bright blue orbs appeared for a moment before rolling upward and disappearing behind her heavy lids.
“Do not test my patience,” Arramos said. “You are speaking as the fools do.”
At the house, Tamiel removed the key from the nail. Now was the perfect time for Sapphira to launch an attack. He took a step closer to her and nudged her leg with his foot.
Sapphira’s eyes opened again. She stared at the house and whispered, “Ignite.”
Just as Tamiel opened the door, fire erupted from inside. As the house turned into an inferno and flames engulfed him, he covered his head with his arms and staggered back until he fell in the grass. His clothing smoked, but he seemed unharmed.
Arramos swung his neck toward Sapphira. She had already lowered her head and resumed her unconscious position. He then whipped his tail and slapped Matt, ripping his cheek with a spine. Matt fell to his bottom and held a hand over the newest wound.
“How did you do that?” Arramos roared.
“You didn’t do it? I thought you said—”
“Do not play me for a fool!” Arramos lunged at Matt, knocked him to his back, and stomped on him with a sharp foreclaw. “Stay there!” With a slow beat of his wings, he skittered haphazardly across the ground toward Tamiel.
Matt dug the pickup keys from his pocket and tossed them to Darcy. “Start the truck! We’ll make more distractions.”
She caught the keys and ran toward the pickup. Arramos stopped next to Tamiel and batted with a wing at his clothing’s hot spots.
Matt hissed at Sapphira, “Ignite the rest of the houses. No one’s in them except the guy in charge here.”
As Sapphira looked at him, her head swayed. “Which one . . .” She spoke with a slur. “Which one is he in?”
Matt pointed. “That one.”
Sapphira looked at a different house. It exploded in flames. While Arramos and Tamiel stared at the new inferno, Darcy hopped into the truck and started the engine.
A third house caught fire, then a fourth, though both eruptions were smaller than the other two.
Tamiel spun toward Sapphira and shouted, “Stop! Stop or Arramos will slay you all!”
Weak flames crawled along the roof of a fifth house. Sapphira called out in a strained voice, “I am trying to set Tamiel’s clothes on fire, but something’s wrong. Maybe my energy is spent.”
Matt shoved the pole, then jerked on the chains to no avail. “Can you at least burn the pole where the chains are attached? I’ll try to get you out of here.”
“I don’t think so.” She heaved shallow breaths. “I’m too weak. I feel like there’s a portal here. If I could open it, maybe we could escape, but I don’t have the strength. Opening a portal drains my energy.”
Arramos launched toward Matt and Sapphira. Tires squealed. The truck shot out and cut him off. With a flap of his wings, he leaped into the air and vaulted over it. Darcy jumped out and aimed the shotgun at him. She fired. A spray of pellets riddled the scales on his flank.
He pivoted in the air, landed, and faced her, his head swaying. “Now you will die!”
She pumped a new shell into place and aimed at his head, shifting the barrel in time with his motion. “I’ve hit clay pigeons a lot smaller than your ugly snout.”
“I am immortal. You cannot kill me.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll bet I can blind you for a little while.”
“Stop!” Tamiel shouted. “Surrender or Billy Bannister will die!”
Matt raised a hand. “Keep the gun on him, Darcy. Tamiel’s been threatening that for days, but I think he’s bluffing. His whole scheme is unraveling. He probably doesn’t even have my father.”
“I still have him, you fool.” Tamiel withdrew a phone and lifted it to his ear.
Darcy’s eyes shifted toward him. She appeared to be thinking about shooting him, but the split second she turned, Arramos might fry her. At the same time, Arramos could e
asily break away from the stare down, but the slightest move would bring a barrage of buckshot that would probably cripple anyone, even an immortal. They were at a stalemate.
“Yes, Sergeant,” Tamiel said, “I have a new order for you. I want you to break one of Billy Bannister’s kneecaps right now.”
“Wait!” Matt shot an open hand toward Tamiel. “Let me talk to him. If he’s there, we’ll surrender.”
Tamiel shook his head. “I don’t bargain. You will surrender on my terms.”
Matt turned to Darcy. “Shoot Arramos, then Tamiel.”
“No!” Tamiel shouted into the phone, “Break his other kneecap. Stand by for orders to kill him.”
“Do it, Darcy!”
She fired. Arramos roared and staggered backwards, his wings over his eyes. She pumped the shotgun and spun toward Tamiel. Just as he dove to the ground, she fired again. Pellets zipped inches over his prone body.
Matt ran to Tamiel, set a foot on his back, and snatched the phone away. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Sergeant! Order countermanded! Do not break his kneecaps! I repeat—”
“Silence!” Tamiel shouted.
Every sound hushed. Matt tried to talk again, but not even a whisper came out. He backed away from Tamiel and mouthed to Darcy, “Finish him off!”
Darcy pumped the shotgun. Her brow furrowing, she turned the gun and showed Matt the empty ammo port.
Matt slapped the truck’s hood and shouted, “Then get out! Now!” But the wall of silence absorbed his words.
Arramos, his scaly face bleeding from several holes, blew a fireball that slammed into the truck’s windshield and rolled over the cab. With his toothy maw moving, he appeared to be yelling something, but Tamiel’s blanket killed every sound.
Matt grabbed Tamiel, jerked him to his feet, and put him in a stranglehold while clutching a fistful of his hair. With a squeeze, he slowly closed off Tamiel’s air supply.
“You really are a fool.” Tamiel’s words crackled like leaves on fire. The sound of Matt’s heavy breaths returned. With a sudden burst of strength, Tamiel broke free, twisted around, and thrust the heel of his hand into Matt’s chest.
As if thumped by a battering ram, Matt flew backwards and slid on the grass.
