Broken Wings: Genesis

by A. J. Rand

  “And it’s all leading up to the end of the world.” My voice was flat, but it held a note of disbelief that I couldn’t have kept out of it if I’d tried.

  “By the sound of the fifth trumpet, Abaddon will be released from the pit.” Ke said quietly.

  “Abaddon––that big, ugly black thing I saw come through the Thirteenth Gate?”

  “And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven to earth, and unto him was given the key of the bottomless pit––and the Fallen Hosts had a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon, but in the Greek tongue hath his name Apollyon–” Chaz was quoting Revelations.

  “Apollyon. That means Destroyer in Greek.” I said automatically. Maybe I wasn’t the best at recall on biblical verse, but I did have a knack for languages.

  “But if Abaddon needs a key to get out of the bottomless pit, which is where I’m going to assume is whatever place it is Ithane locked him up at, then that would mean––” My forehead was wrinkling, my eyebrows scrunched up in thought. The thought was there, I could feel it. Then it came. I looked at Ke, who was watching, waiting for me to put the pieces together. “You said only you or Ithane could open the place where Abaddon was locked up. So why not choose not to open the pit? Or are you guys on the side of the Fallen Ones?”

  Sariel’s smile was sad. “It isn’t that simple. The pattern repeats. If we put a knot in the pattern to prevent it from going forward, then it sort of works like a kink in a water hose with the tap open to full. The pressure will build and sooner or later burst. It may just undo the kink and go forward the natural way, or it could explode at the knot, starting to unravel the pattern of the web, regardless.”

  “You want it to happen on your terms, rather than wait to see what may or may not happen and try for damage control after the fact.”

  “Simply put, but yes.”

  “And Ke can’t do whatever it is he needs to do in his present form.”

  “Yes. I can.” Ke said, his face emotionless.

  “Then what’s the big deal?”

  “Yesh, they’re talking about releasing the Beast from the pit.”

  I looked at Chaz. “Yeah, I caught that part. But they’re also not telling us everything, kid.”

  Sariel was uncomfortable, as though trying to decide what to tell me––or maybe it was how much to say? She looked to Ke with concern, and he stared at me for a long moment before closing his eyes and nodding.

  “There are those who would do everything in their power not to have Ke release Abaddon.”

  My look was one of mock, sarcastic surprise. “No––really? I can’t imagine why.”

  Chaz scowled at me, but didn’t say anything. Maybe I had gone a little over the top on that one. Sariel blushed, but I couldn’t be certain whether it was from anger or embarrassment.

  “Ke can die in his current state. You have made him mortal.”

  I didn’t comment on that. Chaz gave me a warning look that I ignored. The opening was there, but even I wasn’t that heartless. I didn’t even bother pointing out that they were asking for the same sacrifice from me. Why shouldn’t it be someone else’s turn to take one for the team?

  “If the others wanted to stop the pattern from unfolding, they could find some way to make sure he never made it to the site.”

  “Didn’t you also say there are only two of you capable of locking Abaddon back up again?” Chaz had his wheels spinning again. It showed in his eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “But what happens if Abaddon is released from the pit and turns around and kills Ke?”

  A chill washed over me. Shit. Why was the kid so much more on top of this than I was?

  Sariel’s smile was tight. “Now you start to see our dilemma.”

  It was a nice trap, neatly set. I had to give her that. She played the game a lot better than Ke did, without a doubt. I toyed with the food on my plate, pushing it back and forth into messy little piles. I was trying to find a loophole.

  My voice was dry and without emotion when I finally looked back up. “So where does my free will enter into this?”

  Ke shrugged. “As Sariel has said, you can choose not to do anything. You have that choice.”

  My eyes sparked with anger, though the rest of my expression stayed hidden behind the mask. “Sure, let’s see––I can do nothing and hope by some freak chance, the whole rest of existence will stop its forward momentum, roll over and play nice. Even if I weren’t a cynic, I’m not buying it as a viable scenario. Or I can let you try to handle it all by yourself in mortal form, hoping you don’t die before you do what you have to, or even the instant Abaddon pops out of his hidey hole. Oh wait––there’s option number three. I can jump in with both feet, and since I’m in mortal form, it pretty much cinches how the end will turn out for me. Door number one, two, or three? Death, death, or maybe even death. Don’t try to feed me any free will crap right now. I’m getting pretty full from your crap the way that it is.”

  The funny thing is that I wasn’t sure what I was going to do at this point. None of it was real enough for me yet. I was beginning to feel that everything they were telling me was true. I just couldn’t accept it as my truth yet.

  A reprieve from the confusion came with a knock at the door. Chaz started to get up, but I needed the movement, so I motioned for him to stay put. It only took me a few moments to get to the door. I peered out the peephole to see the distorted face of Father David. Damn. I was supposed to have called him yesterday.

  The chain came off in a flash, followed by me unbolting and opening the door. Father David stood there with a light look of reprimand that didn’t last long once he spotted the bruises I was sporting. My encounters with Black Wolf managed to help me stave off a solid lecture from the good Padre.

  “Yeshua, I was concerned when you didn’t show, or didn’t even call yesterday.”

  I winced. Okay, maybe I wasn’t going to get a lecture, but he managed to get a dig in anyway. Let’s face hit. Catholic priests held the secret recipe on guilt trips.

  “I apologize, Father.” My best contrite look slipped into place over my mask. I moved my hands up so the sleeves of my robe fell back to show the bruises on my wrists, and tilted my head up a little to give him a better view of my neck and jaw. I’d lived among the priests for enough years to pick up a few secrets to guilt trips of my own. “As you can see, my thoughts have been a little focused elsewhere. I didn’t mean to let our meeting slip through the cracks.”

  Father David raised a single eyebrow in amusement. It was the twinkle in his blue eyes that gave him away. He knew damned well that I was playing him. Just as he knew that I knew that he was playing me.

  A chuckle erupted, giving warmth to his freckled, older face. His hair was white and thinning on the top of his head, but I remember a time when it had been thick and full, and a deep Irish red. I smiled in return and stepped aside to let him in.

  Another figure entered behind the priest. It was a man, a very tall man, with an older, aristocratic face surrounded by a full mane of silver-white hair that fell past his shoulders. His green eyes were super intense, taking in every inch of my appearance. I didn’t like his superior attitude, and opened my mouth to make that clear. Then I caught site of the mark on his neck. My eyes narrowed in angry suspicion. It was another angel. Was there some kind of convention in town that I didn’t know about?

  Father David saw my look and turned. He was almost embarrassed when he met my gaze with a sheepish one of his won.

  “Yeshua, this is the person that I wanted you to meet–”

  “An angel.” My voice was flat.

  He looked surprised. “Yes. How did you––?”

  “Gabriel.” Sariel’s voice held a strong note of distaste. She pushed up from the table to face the new arrivals.

  The new guy’s eyes narrowed when they caught sight of her. I thought he’d spit tacks when Ke stood up next. Chaz was getting up
from the table, too, but I saw Gabriel give him a quick, dismissive glance before turning his attention back to the other two. That pissed me off. How rude and arrogant and––shit.

  I looked at him with dawning realization. “Gabriel. As in the Gabriel, the Archangel Gabriel?”

  “Yes, Yeshua.” Father David was uncertain about what was going on, and he was trying to sort through matters to sort things out. “He came to me, asking about you.” He frowned, looking over at the two who were stepping closer with caution. “Who are your guests?”

  I had to laugh out loud at the ludicrous situation unfolding in my apartment. Nudging a disgruntled Gabriel aside, I closed the door.

  “Father, meet Sariel and Ke. I’m fairly certain they’ve met your guest before, so no introductions are necessary there. It’s turning into old home week for the choir of angels. Sariel and Ke are both Grigori.”

  I watched him chew on that.

  “But the Grigori––”

  “Father, Father.” I chided, shaking my head. “You taught me yourself that there are layers to the old stories we aren’t aware of at the human level. Well, meet layers two and three. I think Gabriel qualifies as a layer one––since the Archangels do outrank the Grigori in the hierarchy, don’t they?”

  The priest nodded. He was speechless. Good. I didn’t have to deal with recriminations for the time being.

  “What are you doing here, Gabriel?” Sariel’s voice was tight.

  “The same thing as you, I would imagine.” Gabriel lifted his head.

  His arrogance was overwhelming. I guess angels did come in all sorts of personalities. Well, I didn’t do arrogance. I didn’t care if he was the Archangel Gabriel.

  “What––trying to get me to enlist for this little war that you have coming up?” More likely he was getting ready to implement a draft in my case, but I was getting tired of being pushed. I needed some space to work through all of this.

  “No.” Gabriel shook his head. His expression was a mixture of distaste and confusion. I’m pretty sure that whatever he had been expecting, I wasn’t it. “The Thrones have asked me to bring you to the Crystal City. They wish to speak to you.”

  I rolled my eyes upward, throwing up my hands in exasperation. “Why don’t they just show up at my door like everyone else?”

  “You cannot bring her to the Crystal City,” Sariel snapped, “unless the ban has been lifted on the Grigori.”

  “She is no longer Grigori.” Gabriel announced. “But if she were, in her case it as been repealed.”

  “Yeshua––?”

  Poor Father David. I knew how he felt. But I couldn’t give him answers when I was still confused myself. And I certainly didn’t want to be the one to turn the older priest’s world upside down.

  “You cannot––”

  “It is the Law––”

  “We are the Law––”

  All three angels started in at once, arguing amongst themselves. I looked at Father David and shrugged, shaking my head. While they were at it, I left them, going to my bedroom to get dressed. Then I went into my closet and opened a chest I had stashed in the back. From inside, I pulled out a carefully wrapped bundle, checking to make sure I had the one I wanted. I tucked the bundle into the front of my leather jacket, closed the chest and closet, and went back to the living room.

  The three so-called higher beings were still at it. Chaz and Father David watched on in confusion, trying to catch what they were saying. I didn’t bother. They could fill me in later. I needed to get out and away. I also had some work to do. A quick glance back told me that no one even noticed my leaving. Well, maybe no one. Ke’s eyes flicked my way for a brief instant of contact, but he kept his focus on the argument. He got a few brownie points for that one. He wasn’t going to give me away. I slipped quietly through the apartment door and headed out.

  Chapter 15

  My mind wandered as I waited patiently in the plush outer waiting room of an executive office suite. I had phoned ahead to make sure the person I wanted to visit would have a moment to see me. She did, and so here I was. You didn’t drop in on the behind-the-scenes mogul of the world’s largest software company without an appointment. I was lucky she’d even take a moment to talk with me.

  A hand came up to press against the wrapped case inside my jacket. Maybe it wasn’t so much luck as it was in knowing the right buttons to push. I’d been waiting for close to an hour before a gorgeous young man came out to escort me in to see his boss. He looked like one of those social-climbing professional types who did whatever it took to reach the top. It was sad how they never seemed to realize until it was too late that they were nothing more than a diverting little perk for the powerful.

  He opened the door to let me into a dark office of black and chrome. Heck, even the windows were tinted black to complete the image. The woman was the only splash of color to the entire setting, if you could count her deep purple outfit and lipstick as a contrast to the black. She was beautiful, but in a cold way, with her expression very aloof and unreachable. Every inch of her was perfectly assembled into place, even each black curl pinned to her head in a professional coiffure.

  Erishkigal was one of the immortals. I had met her at a party during my brief affair with Morpheus. She used to be worshipped by the Sumerians as a death goddess, the ruler of their underworld. There was some sort of scandal in the Sumerian mythos about her killing her sister. The whole thing is pretty graphic and ugly. But that just goes to show you the distortion of the facts through the years. Her sister, Inanna, was now running some sort of health resort for the rich and famous outside of Miami. I was pretty certain Erishkigal was a major backer in that enterprise.

  Everyone thought the powerful CEO of the world’s largest software company was some dweeb who had never managed to graduate from college. Yeah, right. And they say people didn’t believe in fairy tales any more. Erishkigal was the true, hidden power behind the throne. She was also known once as a goddess who had control over the demon world. She had just expanded from demons to daemons. It wasn’t that big of a stretch.

  I also knew what Erishkigal’s little quirk was among the immortals. She liked to make people jump through hoops, even to come and see her. Trying to get an audience with Erishkigal could take weeks, or even months. The only reason I was standing in front of her right now was because I had something that interested her more than games.

  “Ms. Star.” The dark immortal acknowledged me with a nod of her head.

  “Yeshua, please.” I smiled. “It is good to see you again.”

  Her eyes gave nothing away, but she pointedly looked at the watch on her wrist. That was fine with me. I took the prize out of my jacket and set in on the desk in front of her. A raised eyebrow was her only indication of curiosity. She took a moment to unwrap the cloth from its contents. Without even picking it up, she put a possessive hand on the clay cylinder and looked up to meet my eyes.

  “How much do you want?”

  My smile was small, but it was there. I knew that I had her at any price. The clay cylinder was covered in ancient Sumerian text. It was an obscure relic holding an ode to the goddess of the underworld. Priceless in museum circles, I knew it was worth whatever I wanted from Erishkigal. It was a vanity thing.

  I told her about my problem with the dream stalker. Erishkigal had many contacts among the Fallen Ones of the demon world. I wanted to know who was working with him and how I could get around the pact between them to shut Black Wolf down.

  I saw a flash of fear in her eyes that was quickly hidden. I hadn’t imagined it. Who could bring fear to a death goddess?

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid that is something I am not able to help you with, Ms. Star. That pact is beyond my ability.”

  I was surprised. She didn’t like admitting it. That was pretty clear. But she was a realist, and I respected that. By the way her hand subtly caressed the cylinder, I knew that if she could have given me assistance, she would have.

  “Do y
ou know of someone who might be able to help me?”

  “Perhaps––” She stared at the prize on her desk a long time before answering. I could see her trying to judge its value to her. “The only one I know who might be able to help you is Lord Marduk.”

  Damn. “I haven’t met him yet.” My face wrinkled with a frown. I also didn’t know a lot about him. There was something about demon control, but there was a lot more––

  Erishkigal lovingly stroked the cylinder. “I might be able to arrange a meeting––”

  “If you can set it up for today, the cylinder is yours.” I cut straight to the point.

  She looked at me for a long moment, and then nodded sharply. “Done.” She reached for a piece of paper and jotted down an address before handing it to me. “By the time you arrive, he will be expecting you.”

  I stared at her, trying to judge the weight of truthfulness to her claim.

  She flashed me an irritated look. “He owes me. I will be calling in a favor. He will be happy that it is such a simple thing to fulfill his obligation.”

  By the way she possessively stroked the cylinder, I could tell she didn’t consider it a bad bargain, so I accepted her assurances.

  “Thanks.”

  “Most certainly.” She acknowledged, but she was no longer paying any attention to me. Her focus was completely on the cylinder. “Good luck to you, Ms. Star.”

  I hadn’t even reached the door when I heard her keying into the office intercom system.

  “Stephen, get me Lord Marduk on the phone.”

  That was good enough for me.

  The address Erishkigal had provided took me into one of the most exclusive areas of town. You had to hand it to most of the immortals. They hadn’t squandered away immortality without planning ahead for their creature comforts. The wide gate to Marduk’s estate swung open at my arrival. Erishkigal had kept to her part of the bargain. I was satisfied.