“So what is your proposition?” Mideon asked.
“Take away some of Samael’s leverage. Make him fight on all sides. It will weaken his forces. It will weaken his will. It will give us a chance to take him. Then, maybe we can begin to restore some order to the state of things.”
“And what if the boy’s stronger than anyone ever imagined?” Mideon asked. “What if he’s more of a threat than Samael?”
“Where is your faith?” Victoria asked. “You don’t speak like much of an angel.”
“At this moment I don‘t feel like one either,” the old seraph said.
“We should go and get my husband and daughter.”
“Out of the question,” Mideon said. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do. They’re not meant to be there. They’re being held there unjustly, and every one of you know it. I think it’s time that this was made right.”
“What you’re proposing is not in God’s will,” Mideon said, his voice not nearly as strong as it was in the days of the great angelic choirs.
“I realize that, Mideon,” Victoria replied with some regret. “But losing the kingdom to Samael and the dissidents wasn’t exactly in the plan either.”
The council was forced to admit the obvious, but their furrowed feathery brows suggested that they weren’t quite ready to be practical about the whole thing yet.
“I’ll go and get them,” Abbadon volunteered. “I’m more familiar with that place than any of you.”
“Abbadon,” Mideon said, not nearly as authoritative as he would have been millennia earlier, “we’ve entrusted the gate to you, and you’ve kept it as well as any of us had hoped. But there is simply no way to accomplish what you’re suggesting.”
Abbadon looked the angelic council over thoroughly, hoping his face gave the impression of defeat. Drooping his shoulders, letting his wings scrape the billowy floor of heaven, Abbadon wanted his despair to be obvious. Then he looked furtively at Victoria and gave her a wink.
“The decision is in your hands,” he finally replied, walking glumly from the council’s crystal table like a man who feels the loss of his soul. But he knew that the council collective mind was made up, and there was no amount of talking that could ever change that. “But you’ll regret your decision before all of this is over with.”
“Perhaps,” Mideon said tiredly, noting the downcast expression on the face of the angel of the abyss.
Abbadon nodded his head grimly and trudged out. Once outside, however, his demeanor changed and his pace picked up considerably. He didn’t have to pretend now that he was out of the watchful eyes of the elders. The council didn’t agree with him or Victoria, and that was fine. But that didn’t mean they were right. And as guardian of the pit, Abbadon would do what he saw fit. The situation was too severe to rely on formalities and councils and the opinions of ancient angels who couldn’t fly or fight anymore.
With that in mind, Abbadon removed the key from his belt that unlocked the doors to Hell and braced himself for what was to come.
Chapter 32
Liz still wasn’t sure why Louise Hartwell had let them out of their cell, and it didn’t really matter. What mattered was getting as far away from The Zodiac Club as possible and letting Dade know that she was all right so he wouldn’t rush into a fight with guns blazing. Pyriel seemed to have other ideas.
“We can’t let this place keep going,” Pyriel said.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours?”
“A big explosion,” Pyriel said.
“You want to blow this place up?”
“It would get rid of lots and lots of problems.”
“It would also be highly illegal.”
“The police will have hard time throwing an angel in jail. Bars don’t hold us very well.”
“This bar sure did a fair job of it,” Liz replied. “But that’s really beside the point now. We need to go.”
Pyriel nodded. “I suppose I do need time to gather the necessary supplies.”
“But you’re coming back?”
“I have to,” Pyriel said. “I have to do something to make up for all the wrong I’ve done.”
“I’ve got to tell Dade what’s going on,” Liz protested. “I can’t risk his life for your demolition project.”
“I understand,” Pyriel said. “I’ll help with that too.” Without warning, he grabbed her by the arms and spread his wings. She screamed as they took to the air. In less than a minute, he set them both down in an abandoned lot a few miles away.
“What are we doing here?” Liz asked.
Pyriel held out a palmful of change. “Call your boyfriend at that payphone on the corner,” he said. “We wouldn’t want him rushing over to The Zodiac Club and getting blown up.”
“No,” Liz sighed. “I suppose not. What are you going to do in the meantime?”
But Pyriel was already scanning the ground for something. It took only seconds for him to find the infinitesimally thin cable that was tied to a camouflaged strip of plywood. Pyriel pulled the dirty lumber up and began unearthing all sorts of guns, ammunition, and explosive devices.
“What?” he asked when he felt Liz looking at him.
“It’s just a little odd to see an angel suiting up like Rambo.”
“I was a seraphim of war, you know? I had to know about these things. Besides, it’s easier to fight flesh and blood than it is an addiction. I’d much rather be shot at with a gun than a needle.”
“I think I’ll go call Dade now while you ask the spirits of Napoleon and Alexander the Great for help.”
“They were amateurs,” Pyriel said with a smile. And then he began digging up more grenades, bombs, and bullets out of his hidden cache.
Understandably, Liz felt a little better about things now that Pyriel was armed and dangerous. That comfort zone quickly dissipated like an early morning mist when she tried to call Dade and discovered that his cell phone was turned off. If she knew him like she thought she did, he was probably rushing toward The Zodiac Club at that very moment, intent on rescuing her. Either that or he was headed to find the boy with both pistols cocked. Either outcome could prove disastrous, and Liz said a quick prayer to God for help on this one.
“We’ve got to get moving,” Liz said. “Dade’s probably already at The Zodiac. Or assassinating that boy.”
“We’ll be one step ahead of him,” Pyriel said. “I promise.”
Inexplicably, Liz believed him. Maybe prayers worked after all.
Chapter 33
The party was still going strong at The Zodiac when they got back. Liz was worried about running into Samael, but there was something about Pyriel’s confidence that gave her courage. Before he had seemed defeated, beaten beyond help. Now, with purpose again, he was a different creature, one to be feared. Liz was glad that he was on her side.
“I need you to do something for me,” Pyriel said. There was something about his tone of voice that immediately made Liz nervous.
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” she whispered as he began to unpack the explosive charges.
“I need you to go back inside and keep everybody occupied for a while.”
“Occupied?” she said.
“Here’s something to help out in that department,” he said, pressing a gun into her hands. “Just fire a round into the ceiling periodically and you’ll keep everyone’s attention.”
“Meanwhile, you’ll be getting things ready to blow this place up.”
“That’s the idea, yes.”
Liz sighed, knowing that there was no other way.
“Got an extra clip?” she asked.
Pyriel smiled and handed over the bullets willingly.
Liz had only used a gun once or twice before when practicing with Dade, but she held it convincingly enough. She had everyone’s attention in the club the moment she stepped through the door. Maybe that was because many of them were Samael’s henchmen. Or maybe they were simply a little nervous at
the sight of a gun in a woman’s hands. Those were probably the ones who had dealt with Louise Hartwell before. In any case it didn’t matter. All that was important was that she had their attention and intended on keeping it.
Chapter 34
Leon buckled his seatbelt as Dade sped through the winding streets of Crowley’s Point.
“You’re going to get us killed,” he said.
“I’m not worried about getting us killed,” Dade said, eyes boring holes into the road ahead. “I’m worried about getting Liz killed. If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t be mixed up in this mess.”
The tires squealed like angry babies and the pair of fuzzy dice that Dade had once placed on the rearview mirror as a joke swayed erratically from side to side. It was only a couple of blocks to The Zodiac Club, but already Dade could tell that something was wrong. Angels were circling above the building like flies over a fresh carcass.
“What’s going on?” he wondered, immediately panicking.
“Take it easy,” Leon said. “We’ll make it in time. Whoever sent us that picture probably never imagined that we would figure out where she was.”
“You think?”
“I know,” Leon said just as Dade was slamming his brakes to avoid flattening the young boy that was standing in the middle of the street.
At first, Dade didn’t process what he was seeing. Then, he recognized the face.
“It’s not possible,” he said.
*****
Liz wiggled the gun around, enjoying the way Mickey, the bartender’s eyes, grew wide at the movement.
“Take another drink,” she said, holding the gun to the cherub’s head. “No better yet, take two and call me in the morning.”
The little angel took two quick swallows of the amber liquid and struggled to stay on his feet. Liz walked calmly across the bar, dragging the diminutive bartender with her. Without looking out across the club, she knew that all eyes were on her. That was the point. She just hoped Pyriel didn’t take too long. Mickey was a little guy and liquor hit him hard. A few more drinks and he would be out for the count. The gun wouldn’t even matter to him then.
Fortunately, Pyriel stuck his head in the door and shouted, “Let’s Go,” just as Mickey fell off the bar. Liz wasted no time getting out of there.
Samael’s angels were in the air the moment they were out the door. Pyriel quickly eliminated the majority of the threat with the push of a button. Fire blossomed into the air as The Zodiac Club was set ablaze by a wave of explosions. The sky was soon awash with blood and fire and burning feathers.
*****
Dade had just stepped out of the car with his gun drawn when The Zodiac Club burst into flames. Angels fell from the skies, screaming, like fallen stars. Bits of flaming debris crashed to the ground. Dade instinctively went to his knees and covered his head with both hands. When he was sure that he wasn’t going to be decapitated by flying neon, he leveled the gun at the boy and told him to get inside.
Rush did as he was told. This escape from Midael and his goons was easier than anything he could have ever devised.
Chapter 35
Louise Hartwell knew enough about the dead to know when they were unable to talk and when they were simply being uncooperative. Richard Edgemore wasn’t being uncooperative. He simply wasn’t all there.
Because the demand for professional killing was increasing, Louise had studied quite a bit of anatomy. It made her bullets more effective, more lethal. In this case, however, that knowledge also helped her sort through the bag of bones she had stolen from The Zodiac Club. One of the bones was missing. A finger, she thought. It was a small fact, inconsequential to most people. But to Louise, it explained a lot. Like why Samael hadn’t been able to force Edgemore to reveal where he had hidden the Rusty Nails. Of course, it also meant that she was no closer to finding the secret stash. With a sigh, Louise threw the bones into her trunk and set out to find what was left of Richard Edgemore.
****
Dade’s office was locked as Liz had known it would be, but he had given her a key in case she ever needed to let herself in. Unlike most new keys, this one worked perfectly on the first try, and she opened the door fearlessly. Pyriel was a little more cautious, scanning the room with his supersensitive eyes. Liz turned on the light and immediately headed for the computer.
“I need answers,” she said in explanation. Pyriel simply nodded his head and kept watch.
She had surfed more than enough websites to know that whoever had designed The Ouija Room had done an impeccable job. Furthermore, she knew just enough about the real thing to know that the homepage was a reasonable facsimile of the game board used to summon the dead.
Biting her lower lip, Liz took a deep breath and typed the name of Dade’s sister into the search engine and let the machine run its course. Although she had no way to explain it, Liz immediately knew when the ghost of Jane Gibson diffused into the phone line and entered her computer. The room was filled with warmth, like the door of an oven had been opened for a brief moment, and Liz felt as if she were wrapped up in a blanket of safety.
“Hi Jane,” Liz typed. “We’ve never met before, but I’m Dade’s girlfriend, Liz.”
“Liz,” the ghost replied. “My favorite teddy bear in elementary school was named Liz. I like you already.”
“I’m afraid Dade is in a lot of trouble,” Liz started, hoping this would get easier as she went along. “I’m worried about him.”
“I’m glad Dade has found someone like you,” Jane responded, her words racing urgently across the screen. “And you’re right to be worried about him. He is in trouble.”
Liz felt her stomach clench once and knew that this wasn’t going to be easy.
“There is a massive war among the angels going on right now,” Jane continued. “The angel of death is leading a revolt. I’ve heard rumblings down here about what is going on, and the best I can tell there’s a boy who’s been healing wounded angels and helping them turn the tide. Samael is trying to force Dade into a position where he has to kill the boy. He’s using my soul and the soul of my father for leverage. Everyone else is afraid to do the assassination because nobody seems to know anything about the boy. Heaven has been questioning the child’s appearance ever since the first miracle, and the demons are scratching their heads, wondering where he came from.”
“So how are you involved in this?” Liz asked.
“Samael knew that I had been given the gift of healing from my mother. He wanted to enlist my help when the fighting first broke out all those years ago. When I refused to cooperate, he killed me the way that would hurt my family the most.”
“Why did Samael steal Edgemore’s bones?”
“Two reasons. One, the angels believe that Richard had a cache of drugs hidden somewhere in the city, and Samael felt like he could threaten him with eternal unrest if he didn’t reveal the location. Two, Richard is the one person who knows the extent of the angels’ weakness, and Samael is afraid that he might lose the war if someone bent on subterfuge were to come in offering his men whatever they wanted. After all, this war is essentially about habits and fulfilling that need.”
Liz knew that this was exactly the sort of thing that Dade needed to know.
“You’d better go and tell Dade,” Jane said, reading Liz’s thoughts.
“Just one more question, Jane. Where exactly are you?”
“Where I’m at is not a very pleasant place. There is fire and shrieking and crying. It is always dark down here, and I don’t know of any way I could ever get out. Samael put me here, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you not tell Dade. I’m sure he’ll find out one way or another. I’m sure Samael will use that to get what he wants.”
It frightened Liz to imagine the kinds of things Samael might want.
She had to find Dade.
Chapter 36
The familiar stench of sulfur and the shrieking of the damned was enough to make Abbadon reconsider going into the abyss.
But then he remembered how much was at stake. He knew what Samael was holding over Dade Gibson’s head, and knew, with just as much certainty, that the only way out of this mess was to go into the fire and bring out those that Dade held dear. Without them, Samael had nothing to use as leverage.
Smoke rolled out from the entrance to the pit like a dense cloud of fog in the early morning. But where the fog cooled the skin and crept along the ground, the smoke was far less kind to the flesh, singeing hair and pirouetting in strange whirlwinds that carried the screams of the dead on hot currents of air.
Save for the syringe that was tucked neatly away under his plumage, Abbadon might have gone mad from the sights and sounds of the damned, squealing like pigs and torturing themselves unmercifully. But the heroin was high quality, and soon the heat running through his angelic veins was almost a match for that of the underworld. He had resolved never to turn to the needle after seeing the way it affected the angels that abused it. But he knew that he would need something much stronger than absinthe to make his way through stygian depths.
He knew that the sheer torment of serving as Hell’s gatekeeper didn’t excuse him for what he did, but his reasons for abusing his body were very different than those of the other angels. They had never seen the lake of fire or the bottomless pit up close, had never felt the heat singe their feathers as they listened to the ever-present wailing. Abbadon wouldn’t have been able to stand all that he saw and heard without the apathy and desensitization that the narcotics brought on.
He headed down to the hot shoreline, watching the tormented souls as they swallowed mouthfuls of the boiling water, drowning in their sin and loneliness and agony. Once or twice his snakeskin boots began to writhe a little at the feeling of home, and Abbadon nearly considered taking them off. But then he thought of the waves of flame lapping against the dark beaches like lusting tongues and reconsidered. He would simply have to deal with the inconvenience...and the possibility of his feet carrying him away in an act of treason.
Rusty Nails (The Dade Gibson Case Files) Page 11
