Black City (A BLACK WINGS NOVEL)

by Christina Henry

  “The tasks seemed simple enough at first. I was asked to carry messages, and I did, full of my own importance. Then I was asked my opinion on events I witnessed in my father’s court. Soon I was eavesdropping on private conversations, lurking in places where I might be well positioned to hear, and reporting, always, back to Lord Lucifer.

  “Then, one day, I fell asleep in the garden under the gazebo. The flowers and grass were tall there, and I was well hidden by the foliage. I had simply been enjoying the sun and drifted off. When I awoke, I heard voices arguing. They were trying to be circumspect, but they were loud enough for me to hear that one of them was my mother. The other was a man I did not know. They were speaking of Lord Lucifer. I did not hear all of the words. But I heard Cassiel say ‘treason.’

  “I remained where I was until their conversation was concluded. All I could think of was that I had uncovered a plot of treason, and Lord Lucifer would reward me well for such a discovery. I rushed to report what little I had heard to the Morningstar. I did not consider that my mother would be caught in the net. I was thinking only of the other man, the one she had argued with. I thought Lord Lucifer would ask my mother whom she was speaking to so that he could find the real conspirator. I thought that she was trying to dissuade the man.

  “Of course, I was young and foolish. Lord Lucifer considered them both as plotters, and when my mother was taken for questioning and tortured, she admitted as such. But she would never tell Lord Lucifer who the other man was.

  “She was executed in the Morningstar’s court. When my mother was beheaded I was standing at the right hand of Azazel, who stood at the right hand of Lucifer.”

  He fell silent again. My heart ached for the boy he had been, for the weight that he had carried over the years. He had watched his mother killed because she had committed treason against Lucifer, because he had revealed her.

  He must have thought his life was over when Azazel had ordered him to participate in a rebellion against their highest lord. I wondered, not for the first time, why Lucifer had allowed Nathaniel to live. Then I realized how much Lucifer enjoyed serving his revenge ice-cold.

  “Cassiel picked Zerachiel over Lucifer, and then he waited years and years, until you were born and old enough to be used as a tool for vengeance?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said. “It is why I tell you over and over not to cross him.”

  “And you still declare your fealty to him?”

  “I have no choice. I must have a master. It is the way of my kind. And as Lucifer is the most powerful of us all, it is safer to be under his wing than in his sights.”

  “You aren’t under his wing,” I said. “Lucifer plays the long game.”

  Nathaniel’s life would come to a sudden end one day for his participation in Azazel’s plot. I knew that with the certainty of the sun rising, and I was sure that Nathaniel knew it, too. Yet he kept protecting me, kept putting his life at risk, kept trying to restore his honor even though he was a dead man walking. I realized I could love that kind of man, and that was a disconcerting thought.

  “Let us keep walking,” Nathaniel finally said. “There may be other creatures lurking and it is unwise for us to linger so long in an exposed area.”

  As we walked it was hard to get my mind off the tale that Nathaniel had just told. It made me see him in an entirely different light, one in which his selfish behavior and his icy demeanor were just a shield to protect himself. Nathaniel was brooding, locked in his own thoughts.

  We continued on the path around the aquarium without further incident. I wondered what would become of all the animals inside with no keepers to care for them.

  Beezle liked to go to the aquarium sometimes—safely hidden in my pocket, of course. He enjoyed the seahorses, of all things, and the otters. He also liked the popcorn stand on the lower level, because he could eat popcorn and watch the dolphins swimming.

  No one would be taking care of the dolphins now, or the sharks or the starfish. Some of them might be dead already with the power out and the filters on the tanks silent. Whatever wasn’t dead would be soon.

  It was another problem I could not fix, another tragedy I couldn’t prevent. And then I was crying again, crying so hard I could hardly see in front of me. It was almost foolish to weep over animals when so many people had died in one day, but I couldn’t help it. I was sick of death. In my life I’d seen more of it than I ever wanted.

  Nathaniel stopped, touched my shoulder. I turned toward him. He did not offer platitudes. He did not embrace me. He wiped the tears from my cheeks with his hands, his face troubled. His hands lingered on my face, cupped it as he studied me. The silence between us stretched thin. I realized I held my breath, and my tears had stopped.

  “You do not love me,” Nathaniel said. His voice was steady.

  I thought of Gabriel. “No.”

  “You do not need love for this,” he said, and then his mouth was on mine, savage and unrelenting, taking my breath away.

  6

  I FELT THE FLARE OF HEAT BETWEEN US, THE POWER that flowed from him now that he had been restored by sleep. I clung to him, unsure about what I needed but knowing that this was what I wanted.

  Nathaniel offered me no comfort. He did not treat me gently. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted his power and his ferocity. I wanted him to be everything Gabriel wasn’t so that I could forget how much it hurt, just for a little while.

  He pulled his mouth away, his breath harsh, and looked into my eyes. “You do not need to love me. But you do need to choose me.”

  I started to speak, but he put his thumb over my mouth.

  “If you choose me because you want comfort, I will not object. If you choose me because you want to forget, I do not object. If it is simply a matter of lust, I do not object. But I want you to look at me and know who I am. I want you to choose me, not fall into my arms in secret and pretend I am somebody else.”

  I nodded. He was right. However complicated our relationship was, he didn’t deserve to be a cipher for Gabriel. Gabriel’s memory was worth more than that to me.

  “I’m not ready to make that choice,” I said, moving reluctantly away from him.

  He released me, his hands brushing over my throat, my shoulders, before pulling away.

  “Do not wait too long, or you may find your choices taken from you.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked as we began walking north again. Nothing stirred this close to the lake except for us. It was like Nathaniel and I were the last two people on earth.

  “I am aware that you do not make yourself a priority; nor would you wish to contemplate matters of court politics when there is a larger crisis at hand,” he began.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard what I think of fallen politics even when there’s not an apocalypse going down.”

  Nathaniel nodded, acknowledging the truth of this statement. “However, you cannot think that Lord Lucifer will let you go long without a consort, especially in your current condition.”

  The bars of the cage were closing around me. “Are you saying I’d better choose a partner soon or Lucifer will choose one for me? Are you offering to sacrifice yourself?”

  “You could do far worse than I. J.B. is also an acceptable choice.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Most guys don’t like to talk up the competition when they’re trying to get a girl.”

  Nathaniel shrugged. “J.B. is steadfast. He is both magically powerful and politically well connected. If you married him, you would be somewhat protected from Titania’s wrath.”

  “I notice you only say ‘somewhat’ protected,” I said.

  “You diminished Oberon in front of his queen and the highest court in the faerie kingdom. Whatever the terms of your trial by combat, Titania will not be able to let such an insult stand. But if you marry the king of a lower court, she will not be able to kill you outright. And there are more ways to protect your child from her if you are wed.”

  “You’re not making a r
eal strong case for yourself, pal.”

  “Very well,” Nathaniel said, drawing himself up. “I am the only son of Zerachiel of the Grigori and Cassiel, an angel of the host. I served as the right hand of Azazel for over two thousand years, and I have pledged my fealty to Lord Lucifer, your grandfather. If you were to wed me, you can be assured that I would devote myself to you and the protection of your child.”

  I shook my head at him. “You still don’t get it. Politics and status don’t matter to me.”

  “They should. But that is not all I have to offer,” he said, and then his hand was beneath my coat.

  I stood still, mesmerized by his eyes, by his touch. “I thought we weren’t doing this anymore,” I said, but I didn’t pull away.

  “I did not say that. I said I wanted you to choose. I will use whatever weapon I have to make you choose me.” He smiled, and his smile was so wicked that I almost damned myself then and there just so I could find out what was behind that look.

  He pulled his hand away slowly, and I could think again.

  “Keep walking,” I said raggedly, and he chuckled beneath his breath.

  How could my feelings for one person change so quickly? It wasn’t that long ago that I wanted to kill Nathaniel, and I wouldn’t have shed a single tear if I had. But since we’d joined our powers to create the protective veil over the hospital, it was like I couldn’t stay away from him. What had that spell done to us? In some ways the blending of our magic had felt more intimate than sex, and sex bound people together whether they wanted to be or not. Or…

  I looked at Nathaniel through the corners of my eyes. He seemed calm and self-contained, as usual. Could he have cast a spell on me while we were joined? Could I be drawn to him now because of something artificial he’d planted inside me?

  But you saw inside his heart, a little voice in my head argued.

  That doesn’t mean anything, I argued back. He’s thousands of years old, and much more practiced in duplicity than you are.

  But his duplicity is a front. He’s just playing the game that Lucifer taught him.

  But what if that whole story was just another manipulation to make me believe in him? I was giving myself a headache trying to see all of the angles.

  And then there was the matter of his changeability, his moral fluidity. I never could get a fix on Nathaniel from the start. It always seemed that he was adjusting to the situation, that he would be whatever he thought he should be at the moment. Just like a…

  I looked at him more sharply now, realizing who it was he’d reminded me of as he stood over Focalor’s soldier in the moonlight.

  Puck.

  “Nathaniel, who did you say your father was?” I asked, like I couldn’t remember, like he hadn’t just told me his whole family history.

  “Zerachiel of the Grigori,” Nathaniel said. “But I thought you said you did not care for politics.”

  “Are you certain he’s your father?” I persisted.

  “Have you not seen him at the court? I am the mirror image of my father,” Nathaniel said with a touch of irritation.

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “No. Why the abrupt interest in my family?” he asked.

  “Just curious,” I said, my eyes searching his face for confirmation of my suspicions.

  I couldn’t tell him what I thought without proof. There was one more thing I needed to ask, though.

  “Does Zerachiel have children among the nephilim?” I asked.

  “No,” he said, and there was a real haughtiness to his voice, almost like the old Nathaniel. “My father alone was able to exercise self-restraint in the face of his lust. He knew it was not natural for angels to procreate with human women. It was one of the things Cassiel loved about him. She hated the nephilim children of the other Grigori.”

  “I don’t think so,” I muttered, deciding now wasn’t the time to be offended on behalf of human women.

  From what I knew of angels, they would take any opportunity to spread their seed far and wide, and they had no trouble doing so. Azazel had at least two other children besides me—Antares and an unnamed nephilim. He may have had more.

  On the heels of that disconcerting thought came the further disconcerting thought that another half sibling might show up on my doorstep and try to kill me.

  Stay focused. No need to borrow trouble.

  Lucifer had more children than he could count, especially since it seemed he’d screw anything that stood still long enough. Heck, even Gabriel had gotten me pregnant on the first try.

  What were the chances that Zerachiel had managed to make only one child in thousands of years?

  Pretty damn slim, I thought.

  It was Titania and Oberon all over again. Puck had come to Titania in the guise of Oberon to preserve the myth that she was not cuckolding her husband. But genes had a tendency to tell. Titania’s son, Bendith, had Puck’s brilliant blue eyes. There could be no doubt who Bendith’s father was, no matter what Titania and Oberon said.

  Puck could have come to Nathaniel’s mother in the guise of Zerachiel, as he had done to Titania in the form of Oberon. Somehow he’d manipulated the conception so thoroughly that not a trace of Puck’s physical traits had shown up in Nathaniel. But his true nature was still there, underneath the skin, waiting to be unlocked.

  Could Nathaniel really be Puck’s child? If he was, then Puck had done a good job of not betraying the relationship in Titania’s court. He’d acted like he was meeting Nathaniel for the first time.

  Of course, if Lucifer found out—or even suspected—that Puck had a child inside Lucifer’s organization, then Nathaniel’s life wouldn’t be worth squat.

  Maybe all of this was in my head, anyway. I had no proof of my suspicions, and nothing to go on except Nathaniel’s expression in the moonlight.

  But maybe, just maybe, that was why Nathaniel’s mother had been killed. Maybe she hadn’t been plotting against Lucifer, but had simply borne a child that had not been her husband’s. There were plenty of examples in human history of queens whose lives had been forfeit because they had betrayed their kings. The sanctity of the bloodline must always be preserved. That was treason enough if Lucifer was looking for a reason to take revenge on Cassiel.

  But Lucifer couldn’t have suspected that Puck was the father of her child.

  And he moved differently, I thought. When he’d killed Focalor’s creature, Nathaniel had moved more quickly than he ever had before. And he could suddenly hear the vampires moving all over the city, a skill I was only just realizing was notable. It wasn’t precisely a smoking gun, but a lot of circumstantial evidence was there.

  None of these abilities had manifested before I’d kissed Nathaniel. Had I somehow unlocked powers he was not even aware of? And would that make him more recognizable to Lucifer as Puck’s child? Had I inadvertently put his life in greater danger?

  “You seem very troubled,” Nathaniel said. “The frown on your face would terrify a demon.”

  I made a concerted effort to unfurrow my brow. “Just worried about the vampire problem.”

  “And about the situation between you and I,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said, because it was sort of true, and because I didn’t want him to ask any more questions. I might betray myself.

  Somehow we’d managed to walk almost to Navy Pier without my noticing or without encountering any monsters. We approached the double-decker bridge that connected the lakefront path to its continuation north of the bridge. The upper deck of the bridge was Lake Shore Drive.

  There was a slight grade here, and we both paused, assessing the situation. The path took a soft turn at the strut that supported the bridge, and the lack of streetlight made the blind turn ominous.

  “Can you hear anything up there?” I asked very quietly.

  “No,” he said. “However, that does not mean something isn’t there.”

  “It doesn’t feel right,” I said, and Nathaniel nodded. “But I can’t tell if
it’s because the whole city doesn’t feel right, or because something specifically is wrong up there.”

  “We have no other way of getting home,” Nathaniel said. “We cannot fly. If we go west, we will walk right into the thick of the vampire horde.”

  I looked dubiously at the river below. “Swim in the very cold water?”

  Nathaniel shook his head. “I think it would be very unwise to get into the water at this time. I have noticed the lake is changing.”

  I’d been too wrapped up in my thoughts to notice anything special about the lake. Now I observed that a light, phosphorescent fog rose above the surface as far as the eye could see.

  “That can’t be good,” I said.

  “Something is awakening. Something ancient,” Nathaniel said, and it was almost as if he were in a trance. “I can feel it in the back of my mind.”

  “And is this ability to feel primeval creatures in your mind a new thing?” I asked casually.

  Nathaniel frowned and looked at me. “I have never sensed its presence before.”

  Great. More new powers. “Handy that you can now,” I said quickly, before he thought too deeply about why. “So we don’t want to jump in the river, as I’m assuming whatever’s in the lake would not be impeded by the locks.”

  “The creature gives an impression of great size.”

  “That would be ‘no,’ then. The bridge it is.” I drew my sword, and Nathaniel followed suit.

  We approached the bridge slowly. As the girders rose above us, it was hard not to feel like we were being enclosed in a cave. Lower Wacker was to our left, and connected both Lake Shore Drive and Wacker Drive via ramps that were just south of us.

  Lake Shore Drive was silent above, a cemetery of abandoned cars. Strangely, there was only one vehicle on our level—a yellow cab. It looked like the driver had simply stopped in the middle of the street and jumped out.

  There was a dark stain in the road beside the open door of the car. It might not have been blood. It might have been an oil stain. A really big oil stain.