“I suspect the Angel that presented the swords to Charlemagne is the Angel of Death and I believe Julia is a descendant of that Angel – an Angel that is Fallen.”
A slow smile spread across Quabin’s face. “You are a clever one, Drogo.”
“Is that why you have claimed her?” Drogo pressed. “Because she has the power of the Angel of Death?”
Quabin’s smile vanished, but he forged ahead. “There hasn’t been a death in this county in over a hundred years – not since you were captured. In fact, the Parker Brothers were the last to die before your incarceration. I don’t think that was a coincidence.”
“Amazing,” Quabin breathed. “That you were able to deduce all this. Did you figure out this on your own?”
Drogo shrugged. “Actually, my lady, I have a loose alliance with the Sheriff in this town. We exchange favors as needed. I have heard things and seen things here, and have pieced together what I could. I know that Julia was last seen in the mortal realm about the time the brothers were shot.”
“Yes, I know all this, Drogo.” Quabin said impatiently. “I ordered the assassination of anyone affiliated with Butch Cassidy.”
“How were you captured, Lady?”
“You think I would share that with you? Do you think I’m a fool?” she snapped.
Drogo took a step backward, and ducked his head. “No, my lady. I apologize. I wouldn’t ever suggest a thing like that.”
“As it were, we were discussing the swords and Julia. Do you know where the swords are?” Quabin pressed.
“No, I don’t know where they are exactly. I had thought you would have possessed one. But, it’s clear you do not. However, I know who had one of them last and she lives conveniently close by.”
Quabin motioned him closer and fixed him with a penetrating look. He tried not to flinch as her stare penetrated him deeply, exciting a desire deep inside him to serve her, adore her, lust after her. Her lips parted slightly, invitingly... Drogo could hardly restrain himself. Drogo felt himself leaning in towards her, leaning in, wanting to dive into her deep black eyes, taste her kiss – her offer ripe on her lips and all he needed was to take it, and seal the deal with a kiss. He touched her face and touched her lips with his, plucking the ripe offer, sealing the deal, drowning in her scent and taste, her lips hot like fire beneath his. Fire flashed through him, through his arms and legs, like electricity, he threw back his head and screamed as the pain whipped through him. He felt fire sear his dark soul.
“The power of your strength is mine,” Quabin whispered sweetly walking around him as he stood ridged, trembling, shaking, “your mind, your heart, your strength is mine.”
“Go and take Amy and Keya and begin your search for the swords. Start with the Angel of Hiding, the one called Liu in the town of Torrey.”
Quabin released him, and Drogo stumbled forward, feeling like his energy had been drained of him. He would need to feed before he could begin his search. His hunger was so great. He turned to Quabin, imploring.
Just then, a guard appeared leading a dazed teenage girl to him. Her energies were dark and full of self-loathing, but she wasn’t sure where she was. Drogo knew that after he was done with her, they would take the girl and dispose of her somewhere near town where she could be found again, barely alive but she would live another day to feed them again. Killing humans did not benefit them at all, however, if another human killed a human, the act was enough to keep a demon satiated for a very long time. But, stupid demons did that, because it brought angels down on them faster than anything. Drogo knew all too well about that price.
***
When Drogo had departed, satiated from his recent feeding, and the girl returned to town, Satrin approached Quabin.
“You toy with him,” she observed. Quabin shrugged casually and replied, “Only to give him a false sense of secrutity. He is rather useless to me, actually, other than sitting on a throne I want.”
Quabin motioned her to follow her as she went to the divan she had been longin on with Drogo. She gestured to the paining hanging about the divan. It was of a woman sitting on a throne with a two swords across her lap. Quabin reached up and took the swords from the painting – one in each hand.
Satrin gasped in astonishment as Quabin produced the swords. “Satrin – meet Durendal and Curtana – the swords of Death; one for Mortals and the other for Immortals,” Quabin said. As described by Drogo, Curtana’s tip was missing, rendering the blade’s useless.
“You’ve had them all along,” Satrin said admirably. “So, sending him on a fool’s errand is meant to distract him from your true purpose?”
“I’m not neccesatily sending Drogo on a fool’s errand,” Quabin said as she returned the swords to their hiding place. “I expect that he will be able to find Curtana’s tip and Joyeus, or at least, ferret out where they might be.” She paused, and looked thoughtfully at Satrin. “I simply don’t trust him. He is too clever for his own good, to be able to figure out my plans, makes me uneasy. The sooner he is dispatched after his usefulness is exhausted, the better. Keep tabs on him through Amy and Keya. I want to know where he is at all times.”
“Yes, m’Lady,” Satrin said tonelessly.
Chapter 14
The address led Nathan through a run-down neighborhood just west of Salt Lake City to an older home on a street with cracked sidewalks and older, rusting cars lining the street. The home itself was small with peeling grey paint on its clapboards. The front yard was a crusty patch of brown grass and an untamed juniper bush. The front screen door was hanging on the top hinge, the screen torn to shreds. A stack of old yellow pages were stacked haphazardly by the front door as notices taped to the weatherworn door, rustled in the errant breeze. A rusted car with a cracked windshield sat in the driveway; its tires were in poor shape.
Regardless of the lack of any sign of welcome, Nathan stepped up to the door and lifted his hand to knock. Before his knuckles struck the doorframe, he heard the slam of a car door nearby. He glanced at the car in the driveway and saw that a woman had gotten into it and started her car. She glanced at him, her eyes wild with fear.
“Quariel?” he said aloud but knew she couldn’t hear him. She slammed the gearshift into drive and floored it. Her rusty blue car seemed to buckle and leap across the driveway in response.
“Wait!” Nathan cried, running towards her. She paid him no heed and cranked the wheel hard to the left, tires squealing against the pavement.
“Quariel!” he called. It was her! He could feel it. Nathan gave chase till he got to the corner of the street and saw that she was too far away. “What am I doing?” he chided himself. Shimmering, Nathan vanished and reappeared in the backseat on the opposite side of the car, but didn’t reveal himself. He had to be sure it was her.
The car slowed down as she navigated through the city, heading for the freeway. Only then did Nathan realize that Quariel did not have any Host companions or guardians. He looked about just to make sure. No one. That was a puzzle he would have to figure out later. There could be many reasons why she was alone, but the only reason that came to him was that she was Nephilim born as well.
Quariel gained the freeway and quickly merged into traffic. The wobble of her car gave Nathan concern. The tires were old, underinflated, and unbalanced. He prepared himself for the worse wishing Quariel would slow down. Nathan looked about; keeping an eye out for an Angel of Death, but none was near them. He could spot a few telltale energy signs of Angels of Death shadowing the other mortals on the freeway as Quariel sped on, but none were for Quariel– yet.
The way she drove, cruising at seventy five miles per hour, sliding in and out of traffic, Nathan wondered if someone was chasing her. Nathan turned and looked over his shoulder, searching the stream of vehicles behind. At first glance, he couldn’t see any threat, but then a black mustang two cars back, accelerated, switching lanes swiftly as it gained on them.
Suddenly, the woman found a gap in traffic and made a last second decisi
on to bail off the highway. Horns sounded and brakes squealed as she cut off a pickup truck. Her last minute exit from the highway worked, the pursuer was blocked by a minivan in another lane. But the next exit wasn’t too far ahead.
Nathan braced as the woman accelerated toward the main road and squealed the tires with a sharp right turn. Car horns squawked at her, before she turned sharply into a parking garage. She drove to the third level and eased her car between a truck and a van. Getting out, she grabbed a large bag and hitched it over her shoulder, before tossing the keys on the seat and leaving the car door unlocked.
Nathan watched her curiously before shimmering out of her car. It was her. It had to be. Dressed in a long floral skirt and lose white blouse, her hair was shoulder length, and curly blonde – bleached blonde. Could his Angel be entombed in a mortal body? He needed to talk to her, but didn’t want to spook her. Perhaps if he called out her name, but she wouldn’t remember her Angelic name, would she?
“Hey!” Nathan called. She kept walking, quickly. He started to jog towards her. “Hey,” he called again. She bolted. Nathan cursed beneath his breath, shimmered and reappeared right in front of her before she made it out of the garage. She screamed. He clapped his hand on her mouth and shimmered out before anyone could see. He reappeared on the roof of a nearby building.
He let her go as soon as they landed. The woman jerked away, dropping her bag and stumbling backward – shock registering on her features as she looked about her confused and frightened. He instantly felt regret for doing that to her.
“I’m sorry,” Nathan entreated her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to talk to you.”
She fixed him with a wild-eyed look, backing away as if she expected him to pounce. He held up his hands to show that he was unarmed. “I’m Nathan,” he ventured.
“I know who you are,” she said angrily.
“You do? You remember me?”
“I’ve spent my whole life hiding from you, Nathan,” she said as she crossed her arms in a defiant pose. “How did you find me?”
“Quariel?”
“Stop,” she said firmly as she held out her hand. “My name isn’t Quariel anymore. It’s Stacey. And you just made my life very complicated showing up like this. How did you even find me?” Nathan opened his mouth to respond, but no answer would come that he felt would be appropriate for the situation.
“Doesn’t matter, I suppose.” she said and sighed as she shook her head. Then she covered her face and cried. Nathan went to her and reached out to touch the sides of her arms. She shrugged him away. “No,” she said hotly, as she dropped her hands and turned away from him. “Don’t.”
“Stacey?” he said. “Please. I want to help. What’s going on? Who are you running from?”
After several long moments of silence, Stacey glanced over her shoulder at him, “I’ve got Demons chasing me – literally. I’ve been running since I was 17. I’m tired. I thought I found a sanctuary in Salt Lake, close to the Heart. I had peace for almost 2 years and then they found me. I’ve run out of places to run, Nathan. And now with you showing up – that just makes things more complicated.” Nathan was suddenly relieved that he hadn’t revealed to her that a demon had shown him how to find her.
“I’m sorry Stacey,” Nathan said awkwardly. “Why are they chasing you?”
Stacey turned and looked at him “They want my daughter.”
“Y, y, you have a daughter?” he stammered. Stacey lifted her chin and levelled him a dark look. “Yes, and don’t ask me about her, ok? I just need a place to hide for a while to lose them so I can find a new place to hide.”
Nathan reached out and touched her lightly on her shoulder. “Look, I can help you. I can take you somewhere really safe. They won’t bother you.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “Where?”
“I have a sanctuary about 3 hours south of here,” Nathan said, reaching for her hands. Reluctantly, she let him as she frowned at him. “Where?”
“Torrey,” he said.
She shook her head, “Oh, that’s not good.”
“Why?”
Stacey squeezed her eyes tight for a moment, as if the name of the town caused her pain.
“Look, the sanctuary is safe,” Nathan assured her. “It’s really safe. I promise.”
Stacey appeared to be thinking it over before she finally said, “Okay. But, just don’t ask me questions okay?”
Nathan nodded. “Sure,” he said even though he was burning with questions.
“Thank you,” Stacey murmured. Nathan picked up her bag and said, “Hang on. I’m not supposed to do this, but considering the circumstances.” He wrapped his arm securely around her waist and shimmered.
Chapter 15
The night was dark. The moon just a silver crescent in the blackness of the sky, a glitter with stars. Shadows lurked everywhere. Shadows that were darker than natural. Drogo drove his car into the parking lot. The motor was silent, but the tires crunched loudly in the gravel. Not that it was unusual for visitors this late at night as this was tourist season and the road to and from the national park which ran through Torrey was seldom quiet.
Amy and Keya rode in the backseat, quiet as death. They emerged from the car together. Silent and fluid in their movements, their pale skin glowing despite the lack of natural light. Local imps came crowding, attracted to the arrival of a False One and two Furies. Amy waved them off. Drogo looked around, sensed the presence of dozens of the dark ones.
They approached the apartment on the ground floor behind the General Store. Unsurprisingly, there was a strong shield of protection around every opening. The Asian woman wasn’t taking any chances. Unseen by mortal eyes, the whole building was aglow with angelic protection.
Drogo hesitated. Amy stepped forward and knocked loudly on the door. No answer.
“Looking for me?” came a voice from behind them on the sidewalk that led around to the front of the Store. The little old woman, carrying a small cardboard box stared at them unconcerned.
Drogo smiled. “Why yes,” he drawled.
“Is this an emergency that you’d disturb me so early in the morning?” Liu asked.
“Since when do Nephilim keep with Mortal time?” Drogo asked.
“Since when does an Ensnarer so boldly approach a Guardian Nephilim?” Liu retorted, insulting Drogo’s pride by refusing to acknowledge his claim of being a god.
“When that Guardian Nephilim has something I am interested in,” Drogo sneered.
“What would that be?” Liu asked, unperturbed.
Drogo smiled slyly and shrugged. “Just a couple of items. One is about this big...” he held up his thumb and forefinger to indicate its size, “and belongs on the end of a sword called Curtana. The other is the sword Joyeus.” Liu’s face remained impassive and unreadable. Drogo’s lips curled into a smile. Her lack of reaction to his request, embolden him.
“Simply tell me where they are so that we might avoid any complications,” he said softly.
Liu lifted her chin, staring hard at him. “Don’t threaten me, False One,” she snapped. “You think you can come here and demand something you have no right to? You think I’m just going to hand it over to you just because you ask?” Liu took a step forward. “You think I hand things out to just anybody who comes a long and threatens me?”
Another step forward and she was jabbing her finger into his chest. Drogo looked down at her, slightly amused. “Go away, imp. Go back to LA and never come back here.” Liu said firmly. Drogo chuckled dangerously. He folded his arms and looked at the small woman with the fierceness of a tiger but the size of a mouse. He could easily break her, he thought. She just insulted him. It was funny and infuriating at the same time. Amy and Keya glanced at each other in amusement. He reached down and pushed her shoulder away, firmly, “Don’t tell me what to do. You’ll regret it,” he told her. He had no compunction about roughing up an old woman.
“I give you a chance to go away peacefully,”
Liu said, crossing her arms and narrowing her gaze at him while holding her ground.
Drogo leaned down so that he was eye-level with the older woman. “Really? You’re giving me a chance?’ He snorted. The other two women laughed, moving slowly to flank Liu.
“You leave now,” Liu said, raising her finger and pointing at him, “And I promise you will live to see nightfall. Stay and you will regret it.”
Drogo shook his head and glanced at his two companions. He knew the area was clear of any threat from the Host and if he acted quickly, he could get away with what he had planned had Liu proved to be difficult. With a swift right hook, he clocked her in the cheek bone. Liu spun and hit the ground heavily. The women laughed. Liu lay there dazed for a moment before pushing herself up with shaking arms, and then onto her right hip before rolling over into a sitting position with her legs splayed out. She rubbed her cheek bone with eyes downcast.
“Where is Tatem’s sword tip?” Drogo demanded.
Liu muttered something under her breath. “What?” He said. She muttered again. Drogo squatted down to hear her better. “What old woman?”
Without making eye contact, faster than he had time to react, Liu swung her fist up and connected with his chin. The force of impact sent him flying backward into the gravel. Before he even landed on the ground, Liu had jumped to her feet and quickly dispatched the other two Furies before they could respond. With the two women out cold on the gravel behind her, Liu slowly approached Drogo and stood above him
“I’m an old woman for a reason,” Liu said. “I didn’t last this long because I was weak, fool. Go back to LA now before you lose everything.” Liu turned away and went inside her apartment.
Drogo heard the apartment door close. He rolled to his side; feeling like his head might fall off from the injury to his jaw that had clearly rung his bell. He had never dealt with an Archangel before. No wonder, Quabin had smirked at him when he had announced his plan to go right to her and get the sword tip. He got to his feet shakily. There was another way to get the sword tip. There always is another way.
If I Fall...: Will You Remember Me? (Angelore Saga Book 3) Page 9
