She swiftly followed the fresh tracks on the damp ground, now grateful for the rain that had drenched them earlier.
The more distance she put between herself and the hellhole’s lasting taint, the more the colors came rushing back. The different rich, deep shades of green and brown once more matching the fresh and woodsy air that was now humid after the rain and with the sunlight filtering through the canopy of autumn leaves and evergreens. The woods were quiet and peaceful, and she knew she didn’t belong. Lillian felt like a trespasser, reeking of blood, sweat and sulfur.
Lillian shook her head in an effort to get those thoughts out of it. She had to concentrate. There. Two of them. A smaller and bigger print.
Instinct kicked in, along with a new burst of adrenaline. Alert now, Lillian moved quickly but silently through the shadows that the forest so willingly provided. Her prey was trying to hide, had stopped running, she just knew it.
“I know you’re here, so I suggest we cut the hide and seek and you come out. Both of you.”
A couple of yards, slightly to the left in front of her, leaves rustled and two pair of hands came up before a woman and a man stepped out into the open.
If Lillian didn’t know better, she would have bet the woman belonged rather to the realm of fairies or even these woods than hell. On the short side, about her age, with blonde short hair and big, brown eyes the woman looked tomboyish and yet ethereal and fairy like. A friendly, a bit mischievous pixie, there was really no better word to describe her. And it was really not what a demon she was supposed to kill should look like. Not to mention her clothes. Retro style polka-dotted dress, black boots and leather jacket, and a big, worn shoulder bag strapped across her body.
Right. Lillian was so not getting the demon vibe here.
Frowning she took in the man. Make that boy. Darker shade of blonde hair than the woman’s, but the same warm, brown eyes. She guessed he was about fifteen years old, already tall for his age and one day, when he’d fully grow into that body of his he’d be a force to be reckoned with – and he’d make women fall flat on their faces.
Lillian didn’t take her eyes of them, fearing this white flag to be a fake as it had come about a little too easy in her experience.
The woman angled her body so as to cover the boy somewhat, protecting him. “Please, don’t hurt him. We had nothing to do with the fight.”
“Oh, really? Why should I believe you?” But Lillian did, actually. Something about those two, about this situation made Lillian hesitate. It was a first for her. They were demons, so there was no reason for her to hesitate, or was there?
Behind the demons she noticed movement and noticed Joshua approaching them slowly. With a quick glance she told him to hold off for now. Lillian was still trying to decide what to do with the demons in front of her, when the boy suddenly dropped his arms.
Joshua didn’t waste any time, summoning his daggers and attacking…air.
Just as quickly the boy had gone airborne only to land in front of Lillian – and found himself with her sword tip at his throat.
Not a boy, not just a demon, but an Ebony.
“Nooo!” The woman screamed and Lillian saw how much it cost her to stay where she was and not to come running to help the boy. “Wait, you don’t understand!” she rushed on.
Lillian cocked her eyebrow at that, not once taking her eyes off the Ebony in front of her. “Oh, I think I understand quite perfectly.”
“No.” Her eyes were wide, her voice frantic as she hurried to explain, “He didn’t mean to attack. He wanted to speak. With his hands.” The woman swallowed, obviously grappling for control when she realized her words didn’t make much sense to them. “My brother’s deaf. He wanted to sign something since he can’t hear you. We didn’t, and still don’t, mean to hurt anyone. Not you and not the humans. We just want to escape hell to live a quiet and normal life in the human realm. Nothing else, nothing more. Believe me.”
Matt and Abby stepped out from behind the cover of the trees to the side, their faces calm and their flaming arrows drawn.
The demon girl noticed them and Lillian could see her fighting to keep in place, angry desperation lacing her voice. “Please, don’t hurt him. I could easily kill you, so if you want to kill someone, choose me, but let him be.” When Lillian didn’t react she added, a little exasperated, “For God’s sake you have us surrounded and we’re unarmed and outnumbered.”
True.
Lillian had to give it to the boy. He didn’t blink, didn’t move, although she could almost feel him bursting to know what was going on. Instead his gaze remained on her, calm and filled with fear he didn’t yet manage to hide.
The woman’s eyes, fixed on her brother’s throat and the sharp edge of the sword there, were filled with such love that Lillian was stunned. The only emotions she had ever seen in a demon’s eyes had been hunger, lust or rage. Never love. Never something so pure and honest as she was witnessing right now.
“Dump your bag.”
The witch did so without hesitation and didn’t move when Joshua grabbed it without needing to be told.
He went through it. “Purse, candles, herbs, chalk or something…other stuff.” Seeing his face, she knew he meant women stuff. “No weapons, just this small dagger here.” He held the weapon up before tucking it away to join his own.
With a small sign of her hand Lillian motioned for her team to drop their weapons but to stay alert. “Okay. How about you answer some of my questions and we’ll see where we go from there?”
The demon nodded, “Deal. Shoot. What do you want to know?”
“Your name for starters.”
“Becca. And the boy you’re holding at sword point is my brother, Quinn.”
“Can he read lips?”
“Yes.”
Lillian drew away her sword slightly. “Go, stand with your sister.” A warning in her eyes, she added, “No stunts.”
Nodding in understanding he backed away, his hands raised, until he was beside his sister. Becca grabbed his hand as if to assure herself that he was indeed unharmed. Quinn gave her a reassuring smile, a quick tug of his lips, before they both turned their attention back to Lillian.
“What kind of demon are you?”
“I’m a witch. And Quinn is -”
Lillian approached, but kept a safe distant. “An Ebony. Yeah, I figured as much.”
Becca’s gaze turned hard. “Yes, he is, but a shunned one because of his handicap. He isn’t accepted as an Ebony which means he won’t ever be, and never was, trained as one.”
Lillian thought about that, and then nodded and cocked her head, frowning. “You said you wanted to live a human life. Why? What about your good, ol’ demon way of life?”
“Like I said, we want to live here. House, job, like any other human and that’s it. Simply put, we want to get the hell out of hell because we don’t belong there. And FYI we never indulged in what you so nicely call the ol’ demon way of life. I like a balanced diet with some junk food and chocolate thrown in…but souls? Not so much.”
A demon who wasn’t interested in mortal souls? Lillian snorted. “Right.”
A demon who didn’t belong to hell and didn’t enjoy a soul now and again? How stupid did the witch think she was?
“It’s true.”
“So you never took a soul?”
Something shifted in Becca’s eyes. Lillian couldn’t believe it when she saw guilt flickering there. Her brother seemed to watch her as intently as Lillian was.
“I did. But only when I had to.”
Her brother didn’t make a sound, but his surprise and pain was clear on his face. What the hell was going on here?
“Which means?”
Becca’s voice was strong and her eyes serious, never leaving Lillian’s. “It means I only took a soul when suspicion arose and I needed to get the demon lord off our backs.”
The witch could have lied. Could have said she had never taken a soul, but instead she admitted to taking
them when necessary. Although Lillian fought demons from hell, she had no real idea about how they lived and operated. And so she didn’t know whether to believe Becca or not. Her heart and mind were fighting like never before. Demons were only interested in mortal souls, as food or currency or just for the fun of it. Sending humans to hell was their goal, their whole purpose in life. They wanted to play, to seduce and to corrupt. Certainly not build ordinary lives and work a nine-to-five. And yet…she wanted to believe Becca. Wanted to trust the love and honesty in her eyes.
She had a decision to make.
Dammit, she better not regret this but she would stick with her heart. She threw her guards a glance to assure them that she would explain later, although she knew they would never question her or her abilities in front of their enemy to begin with.
“Okay. You’ll come with us.” She held up a finger as Becca visibly relaxed. “But one wrong move and-“
“I get it. But, I promise, we won’t cause you any trouble.”
God, she hoped so. “Let’s go.”
The safe house was a two-story logwood cabin in the woods, a good ten miles from the rest of civilization and in a purgatory bubble that turned their world into the usual black-and-white grayness as soon as they crossed over. It looked about as welcoming and abandoned as the first one she had ever stepped foot into with some of the first floor windows barricaded and nailed shut, but luckily the inside was a little more up to date and much less battle-worn.
“Home sweet home,” Lillian announced at soon as they entered.
With quick movements that had become automatic over time the four guards shed their coats and turned to stand in a loose circle in the middle of the hall and started to play a round of rock-paper-scissors.
“Yes!.” Abby squealed as her scissors beat them all and winked before heading upstairs. “The shower is mine. Later guys.”
Catching her stunned and amused gaze as Becca watched them, Lillian couldn’t quite hide a timid smile as she explained with a shrug, “Tradition.” Turning towards Matt and Joshua she suggested, “How about you guys go into the living room with our…guests? I…have to take care of something.”
In the silent kitchen Lillian stepped towards the sink and looked at the window, boarded shut with planks of wood. Her eyes absently followed the creases where the day’s last light could slide through.
She had brought two demons into their safe house.
And this one really was all on her, even the house hadn’t restricted entrance to them only because it had recognized their visit as something she allowed, from the bottom of her heart.
And then there were her parents. Would the Ebony really go after them? She snorted at her own naivety. Of course, he would. But did he know where they lived? Was it just a bluff? No, it probably wasn’t.
She wondered whether they still lived in Kansas. Maion had taken her to see them once, over a year ago. When she had stopped and watched them through the window of their new house, it had hurt like hell and knowing she had to say goodbye again had become a weight so heavy in her heart that in the end she had simply stood there for half an hour or so and then asked Maion to take her back. They were fine and that was all that had really mattered to her.
Lillian called out, “Maion?”
Please let this work, she thought. The angel rarely came when you needed him, only when he needed to tell them where to move on to.
Her eyes snapped open as a loud thump and crash behind her followed by a moan nearly made her jump out of her skin. In one fluid move her hand automatically pulled a knife from the block close by, while Lillian whirled around…only to sigh and nearly roll her eyes – well, it was better than to throttle the angel that had clumsily landed on their kitchen table, thus breaking it.
Maion. He had been their contact ever since Raz…damn, would that stab of pain never disappear? Well, ever since the bastard had bailed on them.
The angel was unsuccessfully trying to get his feet back under him as he lay on the floor about as graceful as a stranded fish. He was drunk, again. And not just the merry kind of drunk she had come to know him for, no, it had changed. He had changed. Into a full-blown alcoholic and he wasn’t getting any better. Once again Lillian wondered what was going on with the angel – and why nobody else seemed to be worried about it.
With another sigh she put down the knife and bent to help him up. “Come on, help me out a little. You aren’t exactly a lightweight.”
She struggled but finally managed to dump him into a chair. His head lolled on his shoulders. Ah shit. There had been a glass bowl and other breakables on the table. Blood was dripping onto the floor.
“You okay? Hey, Maion! Are you hurt?”
He blinked, trying to focus on the room and then on her face.
Stifling another sigh she looked him over. His right leg, side and hand were bleeding. His back probably too.
“Dammit, Maion.” The hand seemed to have gotten the worst though and she grabbed for it but he snatched his hand away.
“Just a scratch.”
“Tell that to your pinky.”
“My pinky?” Frowning he held up his left hand - which only sported four fingers now instead of the more healthy five - in front of his face. “Where the hell’s my pinky?”
“On the floor.”
“Oh.”
Yeah. His left wing looked to be broken as well.
Closing her eyes for a second Lillian tried to decide what to do. She knew angels healed from such cuts and slices, but it would take time. However she had no idea how a pinky on the floor or a broken wing would heal if he didn’t go back to heaven, or whether alcoholic intoxication could screw his healing up.
Once again she went with her gut. Closing her eyes as if shutting out the world would suddenly offer answers to all her questions, she couldn’t believe what she was about to do, about to ask.
Then she called out, “Becca? I could use a hand here in the kitchen.” Well, a finger would be more accurate actually.
The witch strolled into the kitchen and abruptly stopped in her tracks. She took in the table, the angel and the blood, and Lillian was impressed how she could make her eyebrows go up like that. “Do I want to know?”
“Bad landing. Can you help him, or his pinky?” Lillian held up the appendix in question.
“He’s an angel.”
“Yup.”
“I’m new at this whole giving yourself into enemy hands thing, but I’m pretty sure that even though you Ivory guys might not kill me, the angel certainly will.”
“There’s a risk, I admit. But I took one by bringing you here as well.” Maion moaned, his head dropping to his chest, and Lillian added somewhat drily, “Besides, I doubt he’ll remember you in the morning.”
The witch put her hands on her hips and stared at Lillian with an intensity that was almost palpable as if the answers were hidden clues in the scene in front of her, until she finally sighed. “Okay, you win. But I need my bag for this and some space.”
FIFTEEN
With Matt and Joshua’s help they took Maion into one of the three bedrooms and laid him down on the bed, on his left side since they had discovered more cuts on his back and one big, ragged shard of glass had cut deep and was still stuck in his right side. Inwardly Lillian cursed the angel when she saw that even the small cuts hadn’t closed up yet. Apparently her theory had been spot on and he couldn’t heal while in an alcohol and therefore self-induced coma.
Self-discipline, my ass, Lillian thought.
After rummaging in her bag, Becca asked them to move the bed into the middle of the room and then turned around to face Lillian. “Do you have any white or blue candles handy?”
“White ones. And cream, I think.”
“Good. Cream will do, too. How many do you have? Three would be good, four would be even better.”
“Be right back.” Lillian left to hunt down the candles. Becca was lucky that most of their safe houses didn’t have electricity and they reli
ed on candles for lighting. They always had some in their trunk.
When she came back with the four candles, her guard was watching Becca with a mix of caution and curiosity in their eyes while the witch seemed unfazed and solely focused on the task at hand.
Becca saw her and came towards her. “Ah, perfect.”
Taking the heavy, thick candles she started placing them around the bed one by one.
The four quarters, Lillian realized. North, south, east and west. To herself she admitted she had expected something more along the lines of a pentacle or upside down pentagram. So far this ritual or whatever it was called was rather…harmless. A glance at her friends told her their thoughts mirrored her own.
“I can’t heal him completely, especially not his pinky since he’s an angel and magic won’t work on him that way, but I‘ll help his body to fight off the effects of the alcohol so he’ll be able to heal on his own soon enough. The bleeding should slow down, if not cease, as well.”
Lillian nodded her agreement. It was better than nothing.
Silence settled once again around them, heavy with anticipation and a healthy dose of suspicion. Intrigued they all watched as a witch in a polka-dotted dress held branches of what Lillian supposed were rosemary and thyme to a candle’s flame. The fresh, earthy and yet sweet scents filled the room, and then Becca closed her eyes and began to chant under her breath, leaning over Maion, stroking her hands gently over his body. Barely touching him and keeping the herbs’ branches in her hand, she moved them from his forehead to his neck, shoulders and hands, back up to his stomach where she rested a second longer over his liver and bleeding sides before moving down his legs. Up again those small hands went, this time heading slowly but steadily towards the wings which had been blindingly white when Lillian had first met Maion but appeared dull now and even a little off-white when one looked more closely. The fact that his wings were too big for the bed and drooping over the edges didn’t help to distract from the sad truth either.
Ivory Guard Page 13
