Devil's Due (Luther Cross Book 1)

by Percival Constantine

  Raziel grunted. “Maybe not. I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You can take me to the girl.”

  I straightened up, staring at Raziel, my eyes narrowing. “And what exactly will you do once I bring you to her?”

  He sighed. “Luther, I know you want to help her. But this is too much. You know the history—the last time the nephilim were allowed to walk the Earth, chaos followed. They nearly destroyed the entire planet. The amount of celestial power Heaven had to muster in order to contain the damage…it nearly destroyed us. Look around you—the planet’s in a far weaker state these days. If that happens again, nothing will survive.”

  “You gonna dance around this all night? Just come out and say it.”

  “We have no more options,” said Raziel. “We have to kill her.”

  27

  My hand tightened into a fist. Every instinct in my body told me to punch Raziel. Of course, if I did that, Eden’s protective magicks would kick in and I’d be instantly ejected from the place. And it wouldn’t do a whole lot of good anyway.

  “I’m not killing an innocent girl,” I said.

  “We’re out of options, Luther,” said Raziel. “I need you to take me to her right this instant. I can still stop her.”

  I shook my head. “No way in hell. There’s got to be another way…”

  Raziel gently rested a hand on my shoulder. His eyes reflected a calming reassurance. When he spoke, his tone was firm, but sympathetic. “We have no choice. Please, Luther. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  “You can’t kill her, even if you wanted to. The nephilim is protecting her.”

  “The only thing more powerful than a nephilim is a full-blooded angel. Trust me, I can do it.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not taking you to her. Mostly because I’m not helping you kill some innocent girl, but also because…” I paused and cleared my throat. “I lost her.”

  “You what?” Now it was Raziel’s turn to lose his cool. He wrapped his hand around my throat and held me over the railing. I stared right down at the top of the Willis Tower. Looked like I was going to get that question answered after all.

  “Raz…stop…” I squeezed his arm a few times, trying to get him to pull me back over the railing, but he kept me pinned there.

  “You’re becoming more trouble than you’re worth, Cross. Maybe I should just summon Azrael here and feed you to him.”

  “I…I can…”

  Raziel heard my grunts; he tilted his head quizzically. “What was that?”

  “I…can…find her!”

  That got his attention. Raziel brought me back onto the balcony and let me drop to the floor. I coughed, staying there on my hands and knees for a moment. Looking up, I saw no one from inside the club had paid the slightest bit of attention to what we were up to. I didn’t know if Raziel had cast some kind of glamour to keep us invisible or if they just didn’t give a shit.

  “Talk fast, half-breed,” said Raziel, folding his arms over his chest.

  “Maybe you can kill the nephilim, but you can’t track it,” I said. “The angel behind this doesn’t want to be found out.”

  “And what makes you think you can find her?”

  I chuckled and shakily got to my feet. I stumbled over to a chair on the terrace and sat down, allowing myself to rest in it. My hand went into my jacket and took out my cigarette case and lighter. “If I told you, I’d lose the only leverage I have.”

  Raziel scoffed. “Bargaining must be hard-wired into demonic genes.”

  “We had a deal, Raz.” I lit a cigarette. “You pay me to find out who’s behind this and kill them. I can find the girl, and I’m pretty sure she’ll lead me right to the big man in charge. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Are you insane? Everything’s changed.”

  “Only the details. But the mission is still the same. This guy has to be stopped, and I’m the only one who can find him.”

  “And the girl?”

  I sighed and took a long, slow drag on the filter, hoping I could come up with an answer before I had to exhale. I took in as much smoke as I could and removed the cigarette from my lips, then slowly blew it from my nostrils. The big, gray cloud obscured my view of Raziel—everything but his blue eyes.

  “Once I find the Minister and take care of him…you can have girl.”

  Raziel smiled. “It’s good to see that you’ve finally started to learn your place, Luther. Very well—I accept your terms.”

  He walked over to me and held out his hand. I looked down at it for a moment before I shook it, hesitantly. Just as I was about to pull my hand back, he tightened his grip.

  “You find the girl, you tell me,” he said. “Any tricks, and that little witch friend of yours? She turns into a pillar of salt. Your vampire whore? I’ll wrap her in iron chains and leave her out in the sun.”

  I could feel the demon inside me, burning with rage. Angels have always been pompous dicks, but I’d always thought of Raziel as one of the good ones. Now I knew that when push came to shove, he was just like all the rest. An important lesson.

  “I’ll live up to my end of the bargain. Meantime, you keep Azrael off my back, okay?”

  “I can try, but Azrael’s not exactly the restrained type.”

  “You’d better. And when we’re done, I’m still going to expect my payment.”

  Raziel scoffed. “Of course.” He released my hand and turned away from me, approaching the railing and looking out over the city. “Tick-tock, Luther.”

  I rose from the chair and walked back inside Eden, moving through the crowd and heading over to the elevator. Once I reached it, I pushed the button and waited. I took one final look around the club and saw Pyriel sitting at the bar. He held up his martini glass towards me and smiled. I gave him the one-fingered salute in response, then boarded the elevator.

  I leaned against the wall, watching as the numbers on the display ticked down. This was bad—this was really bad. Not only did I have zero idea how I was going to track down Dakota, but once I did, I was going to have to figure out some way to save her life.

  What kind of a moron are you, Luther Cross? You’re about to double-cross an angel, one who’s the only thing keeping a bigger, badder angel from killing you. Raziel may not be as scary as Azrael, but he was plenty terrifying in his own right. What do you suppose he would do to someone who lied right to his face?

  Looks like I was on the road to finding out. But I had something else to worry about right now. The elevator reached the ground floor and I stepped out into the lobby, taking my cell phone from my jacket as I walked to the Willis Tower exit.

  “Celeste, it’s me,” I said once she picked up. “I’m gonna need your help. Meet me at Cassandra's."

  28

  It was amazing how much time had passed while I was up in Eden. After leaving the Willis Tower, I was surprised to see the sun had already set. Getting to the car was a simple matter—no demons around this time—and I made the drive out to Cassandra’s shop in Albany Park without running into any avenging wrath.

  Once I pulled into the lot, my headlights illuminated Celeste, leaning against her blood-red Maserati GranTurismo. She had her arms and legs crossed and wore leather pants with a sleeveless black shirt that made her pale skin stand out like it was glow-in-the-dark. I parked beside her car and climbed out, feeling her eyes on me as I moved.

  “What’s going on, Luther? I’ve got a business to run,” she said.

  “And I think you might be in danger.”

  “Danger? From what?”

  I looked up at the sky.

  She sighed and shook her head. “Right. Angels. What did you do this time?”

  “How come you always assume I did something?”

  Celeste gave a chuckle. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Shut up. Why are you waiting out here, anyway?”

  She looked away from me, down at the pavement. Now it was my t
urn to chuckle.

  “You’re scared of Cassie?”

  “She just…weirds me out, that’s all.”

  I put my arm around her and led her towards the front door. “Relax, she’s a sweet old lady.”

  “With creepy white eyes.” Celeste pushed herself closer to me as we walked, her arm wrapping around my torso. “What’s going on?”

  I summarized the story for her, explaining what had happened with Tessa and what we’d learned during the summoning ritual, how Dakota had gone missing, and that I was now being targeted by the Angel of Death. I also added in the part about my chat with Raziel.

  By the time I’d finished the story, we were inside Cassandra’s shop and looking around for her. Celeste didn’t offer another word, just trying to take in everything I had said. I could tell how nervous she was. She did her best to stay off the radar; it was why our relationship was mostly a secret. Maybe not a very well-kept secret, but a secret nonetheless. Only a few people knew about us—and now, I could apparently add Raziel to that list.

  Wasn’t sure how he knew, but that threat he’d made about hurting Tessa and Celeste still rattled me. And if he knew, I had to assume other angels did as well, including Azrael. I didn’t want him bringing the wrath down on Celeste just to get to me. Tessa was at least protected by the warding magic, for now. Celeste didn’t have any protection, so I had to let her know the score before getting her out of town.

  The sound of coughing snapped me from my thoughts. Celeste moved first, approaching the curtained back area. She drew it to the side and we found Cassandra sitting there in a large chair, smoking her hookah as always.

  “Took you long enough,” she said. “Celeste, so good to see you again, dearie.”

  Cassandra punctuated her awful joke with a cackle and Celeste’s entire body tensed up. I rested a hand on her shoulder and moved beside her, staring at the old psychic.

  “Need your help, sweetheart,” I told her.

  “Oh, yes, I know all about it.” She produced a tarot card, depicting a skeleton wielding a scythe and mounted atop a dead horse. “Azrael’s out for your blood.”

  I cleared my throat. “So you see why this is important.”

  “What do you expect me to do?”

  “You’re a psychic. Don’t you already know what he’s thinking?” asked Celeste, sarcasm dripping from her comment.

  “Easy,” I said. “Cassie, you know as well as I do what we’re up against. The girl, Dakota. The one you sent to me. She needs my help, but I don’t know how I can find her.”

  “She’s protected,” said Cassandra. “No Big Brother watching. Only Big Daddy. He has her wrapped in his fluffy, white wings.”

  “That’s what I need to know—who is the baby’s father? Have you seen him?”

  Cassandra shook her head. “I’ve been trying. His face is hidden. I don’t know where he is—or her, for that matter.”

  “Great, so we came here for nothing,” said Celeste with a sigh.

  Cassandra grinned. “Maybe not. I think I know something that might help.”

  “What do you have in mind?” I asked.

  Cassandra put the end of the hookah hose into her mouth and sucked on it. The water in the base bubbled up. She held up her index finger as a signal for us to wait a moment. When the hose finally came out of her mouth, she exhaled and a cloud of smoke filled the space between us.

  “We can’t see her, but we can speak to her.”

  “How does that work?” asked Celeste.

  “Dreamwalking,” replied the psychic.

  “What? Is that even possible?”

  “It’s possible, but dangerous,” I said. “Entering a person’s dream—it’s no easy feat. You become sucked into their own little universe where there are no rules. If you’re not careful, it’s very easy to get lost in there.”

  “You’ve done it before, though, right?” asked Celeste.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Luther?”

  With a sigh, I said, “Once. Trying to reach a possession victim. It…didn’t end well.”

  I felt Celeste’s hand on my arm. Instinctively, I pulled away. Once I realized I had, I looked down at her surprised face and gave an apologetic smile. Sometimes, I didn’t like how naked I felt around Celeste.

  I decided to get back to the topic at hand. “But can dreamwalking even work with Dakota? Last time I saw her, the nephilim was controlling her—or the angel, not sure which. And if the angel is standing guard, couldn’t he stop a dreamwalker?”

  “If anything, it might make it easier to reach her,” said Cassandra. “If she’s locked inside her mind…”

  “Then she’s in a perpetual dream-state,” said Celeste.

  “Precisely. You could reach her.”

  “Me?” I asked. “You know what happened last time I tried this. It’s too risky, I can’t—”

  “Luther, you’re the only one,” said Cassandra. “Without some object of hers, I can’t make a connection to enter her dream. But you—you’ve spent time with her. There’s a personal connection you can use.”

  I turned away from them, pondering the situation. I didn’t like this. Entering the dreams of another possession victim. What if things went bad again? What if I couldn’t pull her out? What if the angel realized what we were doing?

  Stop it, Cross. You’ve got a job to do and whining about it’s not going to make things any easier. You’ve got to sack up and do what’s necessary.

  “Fine. How do we do this?” I asked.

  We sat in a circle on a rug, each of us sitting on a pillow, with Cassandra’s hookah in the center. It rotated as she passed the hose around to each of us. Apparently, that was something that helped in her ritual. Celeste took a drag on it first, slowly exhaling before passing the hose to me.

  I did the same, the water inside the base bubbling up and the coals on top glowing bright orange. I opened my mouth, the smoke curling out past my lips and twisting in the air.

  When I passed the hose to Cassandra, she inhaled from the hose once again. But this time, when she blew the smoke, it was in the form of a series of rings of various sizes. They moved through each other, interlocking without the smoke ever breaking.

  “I need you to concentrate,” she said. “Focus on the smoke.”

  Cassandra took another drag, but this time, she blew the smoke into my face. My eyes closed involuntarily and when I opened them, all I saw was a cloud, the glow of my eyes casting a red shimmer on the smoke.

  “Clear your mind of all competing thoughts. Focus only on her.”

  I breathed in the smoke and thought of Dakota. Pictured her face, her hair, her eyes. Imagined her voice. And when I breathed the smoke out, the cloud took shape, becoming, for a brief instant, an image of her.

  More smoke filled the room, so much so that I couldn’t make out anything else in the room. I reached my hand out, trying to feel around for the hose, to feel for Cassandra or Celeste, but there was nothing.

  I realized I wasn’t sitting on a pillow anymore. I looked down and saw nothing. I rose to my feet, the smoke still spreading around what looked to be an empty, endless void.

  “Concentrate.”

  That was Cassandra’s voice, but it echoed, disembodied and coming from everywhere. It had worked; I was dreamwalking. All that was left was to find my way into Dakota’s head. I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  Focus on Dakota—that’s all that mattered. I opened my eyes again, the smoke beginning to fade. I waved my hand to brush it away and saw a field. No, not a field. A park. The grass was well-manicured and I could see benches and trees. I breathed in the air. It was a dream, but it damn-well felt real.

  Ahead, I saw a playground and a park bench between me and it. Seated on the bench was a woman with long, blond hair, watching the kids play. I walked around and sat down beside her. We sat in silence for a few seconds and just watched.

  The children all seemed to be around seven or eight. They were running up and down the s
lide, playing on the swings, spinning the merry-go-round, climbing the monkey bars—just seemed like the kind of scene you’d usually find at a park.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” the woman finally said.

  I looked at her and smiled. “Sure is.”

  “Is one of them yours?”

  I shook my head and leaned back into the bench. “No, I was just taking a walk and decided to rest my legs for a minute. How about you?”

  “My son’s not here yet,” she said. “But he’ll be coming along shortly. Before you know it, in fact.”

  I looked down at her and saw just how large her belly was. Had it been like that when I first sat down? I had no idea. In dreams, things could change in the blink of an eye. She rested her hand on it and looked down at herself, smiling. “Yes, he’s coming. Sooner than anyone realizes.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here,” I said. “Dakota."

  Celeste stared through the smoke, looking at Luther’s face. His eyes had glazed over and he just sat, motionless. She looked at Cassandra. “Do you see that?”

  “Obviously not,” said Cassandra.

  “Enough with the jokes, lady. What’s wrong with Luther?”

  “He’s dreamwalking,” she said. “So long as he’s out there, his body will remain here. We have to make sure nothing happens to him.”

  “That’s a comforting thought,” said Celeste. She sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any wine around here?”

  “I got bourbon.”

  “That’ll do.”

  Cassandra chuckled and rose to her feet. Celeste followed her movements, trailing the old woman into a back room where there was a small kitchen area. Cassandra moved about as if she could see perfectly fine. Celeste wasn’t sure if that had something to do with the woman’s psychic powers or if it was just because she’d moved around this shop for so long that she knew it like the back of her hand.

  The old psychic opened one of the overhead cabinets and produced a bottle of Jim Beam as well as two glasses. She placed them on the counter and filled each glass, then passed one to Celeste.