Hellsbane 02 - Heaven and Hellsbane

by Paige Cuccaro

  “Then it matters not,” Fred said, unclasping his hands so they hung loose at his sides. “The war has begun.”

  “Wait. No,” Eli said, raising his hands as if to stop them. “We can’t be certain that a Fallen is behind the movement.”

  Fred narrowed his eyes on the kneeling angel. “Do you suggest that the human half-breeds conceived of this possibility on their own?”

  “No. Of course not,” Eli scoffed, glancing apologetically at me. “But I believe the demon I witnessed may have.”

  “To what end?”

  “I don’t know. So far we have only fought in self-defense without knowledge of who was behind the attack order. If it is a Fallen, then, as you said, they have begun the war. But if we initiate a strike at a Fallen and discover later that this demon is working for his own interests, it will be too late. We will be at fault for restarting the war. We must know with absolute certainty.”

  Fred seemed to think about that for a moment, then glanced in the direction of the butterscotch angel in the pinstriped suit. He gave him a nod, then looked back to Eli. “Your illorum will discover the truth of this mystery and what devil is behind the attacks. It will report what it finds to its new magister. And it will end the transgressors. This will take precedence over the search for its father.”

  “No,” I said, my arms clutched around me, my body shivering so much it was hard to speak. Only Eli turned to look at me, but I could feel the weight of everyone’s attention pressing against my chest. “I don’t want another magister.”

  Eli shook his head. “Emma Jane, don’t…”

  I ignored him and took a step toward Fred and the others, forcing my back stiff, my head high. “In fact I won’t work with another magister. Free will, right? The deal was I’m supposed to find my angelic sperm donor and kick his butt to the abyss. Then I get my life back. That’s why I have these powers, why my life was put on hold. You want me to put that off to do you a favor? Fine. I’ll be your little special-agent nephilim. But I get to pick my own team. It’s Eli or nothing.”

  The search for my angelic father was always there, ghosting at the back of my brain. I wasn’t sure if I could really stop looking for him, stop wondering who he was, where he was. But in that instant all I could think about was keeping Eli planted on terra firma—keeping him with me. I’d say whatever they wanted to hear.

  “That’s enough, Emma Jane.” Eli was on his feet, jerking me back by the elbow, putting his body between mine and the seven angels. “Forgive her, brothers. She knows not what she asks.”

  “Yes I do.” I couldn’t let them take Eli away. They may be his boss, but they weren’t the boss of me. I stepped around him. “Aren’t you listening? Whoever’s behind these attacks, whatever their reasons are—you’re all at risk. Now is not the time to send in the second string. Eli and I are your best defense. We know what we’re looking for, how to fight them. We’re the only team that’s gone up against them and survived. We work. Simple as that.”

  I believed what I was saying, though I thought it best not to mention that of my first-string all-star team only one of us had actually taken on a gibborim. Seemed counterproductive.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Eli move forward at the exact instant Fred vanished from the tree and reappeared four feet in front of me.

  Eli was between us. “Fraciel, no. I will not allow you to harm her.”

  Fred tilted his head, the corners of his blush-pink lips turning up in what could only be a smile, though his eerie white eyes left the expression cold. “You are dear to me, Elizal, so I will give you a moment to reconsider your actions. You are not helping her. Worse. You are not helping yourself.”

  Eli lifted his chin. “Her arrogance is my fault.”

  “Yes. As are your actions. Let us strive to lessen at least one cause for your misgivings,” Fred said. Then he took a very slow, very human step forward and the storm raging around me stopped.

  I fought against the tremble quaking through my body and stared up at the seven-foot-tall, blood-haired angel. This close I felt like an ant under a magnifying glass. I kept my head high.

  Fred leaned over, speaking slowly as though I was a child. “You are a danger to Elizal.” He straightened and looked to Eli. “Does it understand?”

  Eli’s angry eyes narrowed. “She not it. She understands as well as you or me.”

  “What do you mean?” I didn’t really care what Fred thought of me. I figured he had the same low opinion of all illorum. Oh well. But how could he say I was a danger to Eli? I’d never let anything happen to him.

  Fred looked back to me, white eyes focusing. He leaned over again, talking down to me in more ways than one. “He has allowed the corruption that brought about your existence to infect him. It will cost him his life.”

  I felt my brows go up, and I glanced at my magister. “Eli’s sick? What is it?”

  “It is lust,” Fred said and I snapped my attention back to the too-tall angel, a hot flush warming my cheeks.

  “We haven’t done anything wrong.” I held Fred’s creepy white gaze. “You can’t punish us for something we haven’t done. Eli and I make a good team. That’s all that matters. We care about each other. We’re close, yes, but that just…that gives us a better connection—a stronger connection.”

  “It makes him weak,” Fred said.

  “You’re wrong.” I straightened, lifting my face a fraction closer. “We’ve never been stronger.”

  Our connection had allowed Eli to see through my eyes last year and identify the Fallen angel who had been trying to kill me. According to Eli, illorum weren’t supposed to be able to speak mind to mind with angels; it’s normally a one-way connection. Angels can speak to our minds and read our thoughts, but we can’t really talk back. To hear our response they have to be listening to our thoughts.

  So how had Eli heard me without plucking the words from my brain himself? I didn’t know. I wanted to believe it was because of all we’d been through, how much we understood each other. We were a perfect team, but I wasn’t sure that was all of it.

  “Stronger?” Fred leaned back and stared at me in quiet repose. Finally he clasped his hands in front of him and spoke very matter-of-factly. “We have known from the beginning that the bond between magister and illorum is a treacherous one. It is why so few are willing to serve. Every moment my brothers spend wallowing in the insidious adoration of humans is paid for with the slow decay of their purity. Too quickly magisters lose their perspective and begin to value the illorum over their mission. It is expected, to a degree. But the fear that one will slip further, will bond too closely as you and Elizal have… Most feel it is simply not worth the risk.”

  “What risk?” I asked.

  His delicate jaw tightened. “The fall, nephilim. What do you think? You are born of corruption, of lust and unleashed desire. You are made of temptation, and vice flows through your veins. You are that which angels desire and God so loves. You are our damnation. We risk our immortal spirit with the very acknowledgement of your existence in our minds.”

  “Enough, Fraciel,” Eli said. He shoved a hand through his sodden hair and wiped raindrops from his lips. “I have supplicated myself to you and the Council’s envoy as expected, but she is not one of us. You have no right to disparage her this way.”

  The angel turned on Eli, his red hair flowing around his shoulders. “No right? I have every right to protect my brothers. To protect you from the torture you endure by her hand.”

  “It’s not her fault,” Eli said.

  “Then whose?” Fred spun back to me. “She knows. I can see it in the way she looks at you. You know, don’t you?”

  I swallowed hard, feeling his ire like an open furnace in front of me. “Know what?”

  “He loves you,” Fred said. “And it is destroying him. Can you fathom it? Every moment, every breath, every beat of his heart is spent in battle. Fighting the corruption of his spirit. Fighting the desire of his flesh. Fighting the seduction
of his love for you, to love Father more.”

  “That’s not true,” Eli said. “I love Father as I ever have.”

  Fred snapped his cruel, white eyes to Eli. “But you love her more. If she felt half as much for you, she’d send you back to us before it’s too late—”

  “Take him.” My stomach twisted, and pain squeezed my chest like a vise. I couldn’t breathe. “I don’t need another magister, but take Eli. Keep him safe.”

  Fred turned back to me, dark red brows going high. As if his lifting mood was somehow connected to the storm, the pounding rain slowed to a light sprinkle. Eli shoved his hands through his hair, pushing it from his eyes one last time. He stepped closer, his feet sloshing in the flooded grass, putting himself between Fred and me.

  “Emma Jane, don’t listen to them. You don’t have to do this. It’s too dangerous for—”

  “It’s too dangerous for you.” I cupped his cheek, his skin cool, beard soft as peach fuzz against my palm. “Fred’s right. This isn’t why we were brought together. You’re not like them, like the other seraphim. You’re sweet and caring and protective. You were made to train illorum. You’ve trained the best, and that can’t end with me. But if you stay I’m afraid…I’m afraid it will end. I can’t let that happen. I can’t be the reason you fall, Eli.”

  It didn’t matter what I felt for him. If he slipped, if we gave in to what we felt for each other, he’d fall. There was no way around it. He’d fall and I’d be sent to kill him. At least with his brothers he’d be safe—safe from demons, safe from gibborim…safe from me.

  Fred slipped a hand over Eli’s shoulder. “Come, Elizal…”

  But Eli shrugged him away and took my hands. “Leave us, Fraciel.”

  I watched Fred’s pale, perfect face tense over Eli’s shoulder, his lips pressing into a flat line. But the angel bowed his head and said quietly, “We will be waiting.” And then all of the Council’s envoy vanished.

  “Are you sure about this?” Eli asked me. “There’s a chance the gibborim will think I’m still vulnerable and that you’re my Achilles heel. They might hunt you to find me.”

  “I can handle it. And Liam’s around if I need him. I was just trying to convince Fred and the others to keep us together. But…I changed my mind.”

  “Yes. I noticed.” A smile flickered across his lips but didn’t last.

  “Besides, the gibborim aren’t stupid. They have to figure you’d be back to full strength by now.” I tried to ignore my too fast pulse, pounding so hard I felt light-headed. Alone with him my body awakened, my senses tingling. I liked it, being near him.

  I stepped away, out of reach.

  He sunk his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “You’re right. You’ll be fine. It’s just… I should go, at least for a little while. That’s why I went alone last night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Eli closed the last bit of distance between us and reached up to brush a wet strand of hair from my forehead. His fingers stroked down my cheek, making me tremble. “I know you think you’re a danger to me, Emma Jane, but the truth is, you’re the one who’s risking everything. When this is all over, when you’re human again, you’ll want a normal life—a husband, a family. As long as I’m in your life you won’t have that. I’ll never be able to give you normal.”

  I hugged my arms around me, still shivering, but it had nothing to do with the cold. “Why would you even worry about things like that?”

  “Exactly,” he said, crooking a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze to his. “I knew inevitably one of us would have to be strong enough to walk away. I’d thought—hoped—it would be me. I’m sorry it’s fallen to you. But it is for the best.”

  I closed my eyes—squeezing them tight—tears stinging, emotion clogging my throat. I didn’t want to think about the future, about what I’d do when I was human again and could no longer see angels for what they were—when I could no longer see Eli. When I was with Dan everything was so clear, so easy. I wanted that, the normal life I could have with him. But I didn’t want to lose Eli. What was wrong with me?

  Eli leaned closer, his breath warm on my face. He kissed my cheek, his lips so soft and warm, then whispered in my ear. “I will never be far. If ever you have need, just call to me and I will be at your side before my name leaves your lips.”

  I nodded. I couldn’t speak. He thought I was the strong one, the one to walk away from these feelings, from what we were to each other. The truth was if being normal—having a human life—meant losing him, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be strong. I didn’t want to walk away.

  I opened my eyes, but Eli was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  It took more than a week before some know-it-all angel showed up claiming to be my new magister. Not that it mattered. He could call himself Santa Claus, but that didn’t mean I’d sit on his lap.

  “Listen, Jaz—”

  “Jazar,” the big, mocha-skinned angel said, stepping quickly to keep up behind me. He had a deep, smoky voice that kind of rumbled when he talked. I liked that. But I kept it to myself.

  “Whatever. I really don’t care if you think it’s a good idea or not. Amon is helping us find the demon who attacked Eli and that’s it.”

  “Amon is a demon.”

  “Why do people keep saying that like it’s news?” I shook my head and yanked open the door to the Irish Center at the edge of Frick Park. “Yes. He’s a demon, which makes him uniquely capable to locate the demon he saw attacking Eli and the others.”

  Eli had left without sharing what he’d seen with me. I guess he figured my new magister would put the face of the demon we were looking for in my mind. He’d figured wrong. Jaz hadn’t been able to muster the stomach to connect his mind with my icky, corrupted illorum brain, so I was no closer to finding the bastard than I had been before Eli was attacked.

  “Demons cannot be trusted. They are concerned only with serving their Fallen masters and avoiding banishment to the abyss.” Jaz shuffled in close behind me, not wanting to touch the door. The guy had a kind of germ phobia, except it wasn’t germs that freaked him out really; it was the everyday filth of humanity. Germs were fine.

  “Not all demons are the same. Amon is a friend. Plus he’s in love.”

  “There have been more attacks,” Jaz said. “And yet your demon friend has not reported what he knows of them.”

  I stopped one step inside the door and spun back to him. “More? And you’re just telling me now?”

  “I learned of it only an hour ago,” he said. “I informed you when the information was pertinent.”

  I blinked at that, mouth open, then shook my head and let it go. “Fine. How many attacks? Was anyone… Did anyone survive?”

  “At least twenty attacks. Likely more since I last heard,” Jaz said standing straighter, clearly satisfied that he’d finally gotten my full attention. “Fourteen magisters survived. All twenty illorum…perished.”

  I swallowed hard, looking away for a minute, fighting the rush of grief and prickle of fear that threatened to smother me. I exhaled, finding my voice. “Did any report back with a description of the demon?”

  If I were lucky, one of the other magisters would share his memory with me.

  “The attackers were all gibborim,” he said.

  Lucky. Right. What’s that like? The angel was useless. I turned around and scanned the room, trying to figure out where I was supposed to go.

  I’d been invited to do some readings at the Pittsburgh Pagans’ summer solstice celebration for my day job. It was going to be an all day event, ending with a massive ritual bonfire. Yeah, I wasn’t staying for the evening’s clothing-optional festivities. Besides, I’d picked my outfit for a specific reason—battle readiness. A sheer, sleeveless blouse over a white camisole and black, stretchy slacks. Simple and sword-friendly. Stripping it off to dance naked under a full moon wasn’t part of the plan.

  The place was kind of perfect for the gathering though, with the two-s
tory block building of the Irish Center for the indoor attractions and the four-and-a-half acres it sat on for outdoor events. The additional five hundred plus acres of Frick Park adjoining it, nearly all of it forest, was just a bonus.

  I crossed the polished floor of the entryway and stepped through the double doors into the social hall. A folk band was playing on stage and people dressed in peasant skirts, puffy pirate shirts, and flowered vests mingled among the makeshift booths set up along the walls with more tables set back-to-back down the center of the room. They’d told me only a select few vendors had been invited, most of them private craftsmen, homeopathic healers, and new-age musicians.

  It took a few seconds, but I spotted my booth. Even if there hadn’t been a giant poster of my face perched on a metal easel in the far corner, I would’ve figured the booth with the glittering astrological symbols decorating the deep purple back curtain was mine. They had used glitter to spell out Madam Hellsbane on the sign and made pentacles of every O in the words Intuitive Consciousness Explorer.

  The sign was…nice and the booth’s silver symbols against the purple background really popped. But I couldn’t help my inward cringe at the overall hokey feel of it. The whole thing just screamed Psychic Friends Network. And I’m so not a psychic friend. But it’s not like I could tell people that my abilities to feel other people’s emotions, to hear their thoughts—were a part of my biology, like blond hair and blue eyes, and not some random gift or clever scam.

  Whatever. With Jaz fast on my heels, I made my way through the crowd to my sparkly booth. High Priestess Brenda and Don, the event’s coordinators, had said they’d set up appointments for me, but a short line of people had already formed next to the booth. My nerves itched under my skin as I hurried around the table and shoved my purse underneath.

  I wasn’t late. Okay, I wasn’t as late as I could’ve been. Just like my angelic abilities, my lateness was genetic. I couldn’t help it. If my family had an entry in the dictionary, our definition would read “perpetually late.”

  Jaz didn’t seem to give a crap who was waiting for me. He followed me right into the booth—brows knitting over his dark sunglasses, arms knotted across his chest. The glasses were my idea. His eyes were lighter than any magister I’d seen—almost pure white. It was just creepy.