Satan's Sword

by Debra Dunbar

  “I’m not going through.” I showed her the shopping bags. “I’m picking up a few things, and thought I’d stop and see if you wanted lunch.”

  She looked at me as if I were insane.

  “You stopped by while shopping to ask me to lunch?”

  “You do get a lunch break, don’t you? I know your boss is a total slave-driving asshole, but I assume you still get occasional breaks. If not, then you need to think about organizing. There really should be a gate guardian’s union. I’ll bet the Teamsters would fold you guys into their group. Their roles are getting kind of light lately.”

  “You want me to go to lunch with you? Accompany you somewhere and join you in consuming food?”

  “Sweet and sour pork?” I had a feeling that might be the magic word. Or magic set of words.

  The guardian looked hungrily at me. Actually, she looked like a junkie about to score. Glancing around, she nodded.

  “Okay, but I can’t be long.”

  I followed her out of the Nordstrom entrance and into the mall, weaving around the racks of shirts and pants. Once into the mall, I moved up to walk abreast so we could chat.

  “Do you always assume female forms?” I asked her as we walked through the mall toward the food court at the opposite end. “I’ve never seen you as a man.”

  “Trust me,” she replied. “It is so much easier to be female when guarding a gate in a shopping mall. If you’re a male and the gate is in the little girls’ clothing section, or lingerie, or worse, by the kiddy carousel, then mall security is busting you before noon. They all think you’re some kind of pedophile. Heck, even if the gate is in the men’s section, they think you’re a pervert looking to score. It’s so much easier as a female. Females buy stuff for everyone in their family, boyfriends, brothers, kids. Women can spend all day at a mall and no one will suspect them of anything illegal or immoral. No one thinks you’re going to snatch their kid, or peep at them trying on jeans if you’re a female.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Yeah, well I had to learn it the hard way. Angels don’t pay any attention to these kinds of subtle details, so we go into these assignments blind and have to stumble around until we learn enough to do our job. The whole time, the Ruling Council reps are down our throats, threatening us every time something goes wrong or a demon gets through. We don’t get to train our replacements either. They switch us around on gates or yank us home and slap a new guardian in here to make the same mistakes all over again.”

  “Have you said anything to your boss about this?” I felt sorry for her. No wonder we managed to pop back and forth with relative ease. Fucking management disaster.

  “Yeah, my boss is such a warm, benevolent, caring type,” she replied, her voice sarcastic. “He’s part of the Ruling Council. He doesn’t give two cents about my difficulties. I’m just supposed to do my job perfectly, and if I can’t, that’s my fault.”

  “He is an arrogant asshole.” I might be obsessed with the guy, but I did recognize his failings.

  We walked all the way through the mall to the food court, and stepped up to the vendor selling thick, goopy messes of American-style Chinese food. I got a couple egg rolls and ordered the sweet and sour pork for the guardian. The guy behind the counter frowned at my companion.

  “No. I’m not giving you extra sauce. I’m not giving you sweet and sour pork either. You can have fried rice.”

  The guardian looked like she were about to vault the counter and perform a smack-down on the guy. I’ve been here over forty years though and I know how to handle these kinds of things. Taking out a fifty, I tossed it at him.

  “Give us our order and three sauces and you can keep the fifty as a tip. She’s with me.”

  The guy shoved the fifty in his pocket and promptly served up the food as the guardian danced in glee. It was rather disconcerting to see a professional business woman hopping around like that.

  We sat down and the gate guardian proceeded to slurp sauce from one of the pint sized soup containers the guy had put it in. The stuff looked disgusting. It was that semi-gelatinous red stuff that is all to do with sweet and nothing to do with sour. Yuck. Sweet and sour sauce was so much better in China where it was brown and actually sour. Now that was something I missed. I hadn’t been in China in over fifty years.

  “Gregory tried to fix the brand mark,” I mentioned casually. I really wanted her opinion on it.

  She looked confused for a moment. “Oh you mean my boss? His name’s not really Gregory.” She continued to slurp the red sauce, ignoring the chicken nugget looking bits of pork that were supposed to accompany it. “Grigori is what he’s in charge of. He runs the cleanup operation; he’s in charge of the Watchers.”

  “What is the Grigori?”

  She paused a moment, wiping the red from around her mouth and licking it off of her fingers before stuffing her face into the container again. I reached for a pork nugget and she smacked my hand, flashing her pointy teeth at me. Okay then.

  “The original Grigori, the Watchers, were composed mostly of the Tenth Choir of Angels. They were to deliver the gifts of Aaru to the humans so they could begin their evolution toward perfection.”

  Tenth Choir? The angels had nine orders, also known as Choirs just as we had nine orders or Circles. When was there ever a tenth one?

  “The elves had evolved in accordance with their gifts. We’d considered vampires, but it was decided that they were not worthy. The angels thought that humans would achieve more and be more pure than even the elves were.

  I stifled a laugh. The elves were far from pure.

  “Of course, you demons disagreed and hadn’t wanted the humans to have the gifts of Aaru. That disagreement plus your vulgar insistence on experiencing a corporeal form to every degree fueled the war. You demons wallow like pigs in the physical, reveling in every filthy nuance of it. You claim that is the way toward enlightenment.”

  She shuddered in disgust even as she reveled in the filthy delights of her sauce.

  “After the war with the demons ended and you were banished from Aaru, the plan went forward to deliver the gifts to the humans. Two high angels were sent along to supervise the Tenth Choir. One was a Seraph. A Seraph,” she told me as if I should share in appreciation of this fact that one from the highest order was supervising the event.

  She started in on the second container of sauce, glancing around and leaning in as if to impart juicy gossip.

  “In order to exist here, we must all assume a corporeal form, but the longer we are flesh, the more we are subject to temptation and sin. Back then, everyone assumed the angels were too strong to fall.”

  Her face disappeared for a moment into the container, only to emerge with thick red sauce smeared around her mouth and nose. I think she was getting drunk on the stuff. Her eyes were not focusing well and she was being pretty free with information.

  “Disaster.” She slurped a mouthful from the container. “The Watchers were corrupted by the flesh. They revealed secrets of Aaru far beyond what they should have, driving human evolution at a greater speed than they can handle. Plus they took human sexual partners and produced hybrid offspring – the Nephilim.”

  She looked disgusted. As if she had room to condemn with her gluttonous consumption of sweet and sour sauce. Then she leaned in even further, looking around as if we might be overheard by someone who cared.

  “It went unnoticed for a very long time because the two high ones had also fallen into ways of the flesh. Once all this came to light, the situation had disintegrated to the point that the Ruling Council had the Angels of Vengeance step in.”

  She started on the third container after running her tongue around the inside of the second to ensure it was squeaky clean.

  “The biggest problem was that the knowledge given to the humans could not be recalled. They are ruined. Maybe they never should have been offered gifts from Aaru at all. Their spirit is too much imbedded in their flesh, and they cannot be expected to rise above
it. We should have left them as animals. It’s too late now to do anything about that, so I personally think we should just destroy them all and start over.”

  That was pretty harsh. They were the ones who fucked it all up after all. Maybe there should be a clean sweep in Aaru instead. Assholes.

  “So where does your boss come in?”

  “He is in charge of those who are here trying to correct the problem. The second Grigori. So basically, he is the head Grigori. They watch the evolution of the humans. They normally don’t interfere, but if the humans get too far off their proper evolutionary path, he and the Watchers will wipe them all out.“

  I felt chilled. No one should have that kind of authority. Who was he, or this stupid Ruling Council, to judge an entire race of beings? I really wanted to continue this conversation, but her eyes were so unfocused that if she didn’t weigh in on my brand soon, she wouldn’t be able to even see it.

  I slid my arm out of my jacket and showed her the tattoo. She looked at it closely and dissolved in laughter. I thought red stuff might come out her nose.

  “Oh, that must irritate him so much, that pious, high and mighty, judgmental snob. To have bound himself to a demon. What a total disaster. Such irony.” She smacked her forehead on the table, laughing.

  What? He wasn’t the one with the tattoo. What did she mean? She must be totally drunk off gooey sauce and not thinking clearly.

  “What does it do? I know what it was intended to do, but what does it really do?”

  The only answer was snoring. She’d passed out face down with empty containers of sweet and sour sauce scattered around her. Crap. Should I just leave her here?

  I went up to the Chinese food guy. “What do you guys do with her when she does this?” I handed him another fifty.

  He sighed pocketing the money. “I’ll let her sleep it off and get her a few liters of Mountain Dew for when she wakes up. That’s why we don’t let her have extra sauce. This happens every time.”

  I thought it was funny that he recognized her no matter what form she took, and that her changing appearance didn’t seem to bother him. I guess the long-term workers here at the mall had just learned to accept these things. I thanked the guy, apologized for the inconvenience, then walked back to the gate at Nordstrom’s.

  “What took you so long?” Dar snarled. He looked rather out of place milling about the women’s shoe section. I totally understood what the gate guardian had been saying about males in the mall.

  “I was having lunch with the gate guardian. It would have been very rude to run out in the middle of our conversation.”

  Dar stared. “I knew it. “

  He thrust a small flat box at me. “Use this in exchange for the artifact. Only give it to the master vampire. Don’t waste it on some flunky, or sell it on e-bay.”

  Dar was getting a bit bossy. He must be stressed, even with the umbrella of my protection. I opened the box. Little vials of blood nestled in silk were neatly lined up in a row.

  “Where the fuck did you get elf blood?” I looked closely at one of the vials. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know.”

  I couldn’t see any elf volunteering to be a blood donor, and I really didn’t want to know if he or Haagenti had assaulted or killed one. They didn’t take that kind of thing lightly and I didn’t want to be in a position where I’d need to choose between my relationship with a high lord and Dar. He might be a shit, but he was my foster brother and we’d been through a lot together.

  “Try to stay out of Haagenti’s way. I’ll contact you when I get back from Atlantic City – which is not this weekend.” I emphasized the timeline so he didn’t bug the crap out of me when I hadn’t even left yet.

  Dar turned to go and paused for a second. “I don’t know what is going on with you, Mal, with this sorcerer, and the gate guardian, and your unbelievably ballsy taunting of Haagenti. I hope you know what you’re doing. I hope when all the shit you’ve thrown up in the air lands, it lands in some beneficial fashion.”

  “Thanks Dar,” I said as he popped through the gate.

  I glanced longingly at the blue platform pumps, but I had a box of elf blood in my purse, and I really wanted to get in a jog and think about what the gate guardian had told me before Michelle came over tonight for our pre-Halloween girls’ night in. The pumps would have to wait.

  Chapter 14

  I was about three miles into my jog when out of nowhere I was slammed against a tree by my shoulders and held there. I had no idea what hit me, so I instinctively shot a bolt of lightning into the thing grabbing me. The only reaction I got was to be banged against the tree trunk a few times.

  “There is a dead bird in the fourth circle.” Gregory’s voice was ominous.

  I didn’t have to feign surprise. What the hell was he talking about? Was this some secret agent code? Should I respond cryptically that the brown bull tap dances in May? Instead I just looked at him blankly and wondered why he was so angry?

  He banged me against the tree a few more times, as if he was trying to smack the answer out of me.

  “So we’re back to violence now, are we?” I asked him. “What happened to Make-Me-A-Sandwich Angel? I liked him better.”

  That bought me a whack against the tree that practically knocked me unconscious. For a moment, there were two of him in my vision. Not a reassuring sight.

  “Why a dead bird? What does it mean and how did you get it there?”

  I still had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. And I told him so.

  More bouncing me off the tree ensued. This was getting annoying so I zapped him hard.

  “Will you stop for a second and just tell me what the fuck you are talking about?”

  He did stop. And he did take a deep breath.

  “There is a dead canary in the fourth circle of Aaru. How did you manage to get a dead bird there? And why? Is that supposed to mean something; is it symbolic of something? Is it a personal message? Are you threatening me?”

  A canary. Well, now I knew where the wild gate in Sharpsburg went. Which was an exciting bit of knowledge I wasn’t going to share with the angels. Why was the canary dead though? It should have been flying around, pooping on their heads. Although a dead bird was kind of cool. What a great idea to sneak into one of the circles of heaven and leave a dead bird on their doorstep. Wish I’d thought of it.

  “Are you prophesying the broken link of the divine? The de-evolution of angels as symbolized by a dead bird? Or perhaps because the bird is yellow, you’re implying that the mightiest of the angels will fall? Are you? The yellow canary is often a metaphor for a spy. Is there an informer in Aaru that will be discovered and die?”

  Holy crap, he was seriously over-thinking this whole thing. Were all angels this crazy? It was just a damned bird. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

  “It wasn’t me,” I lied. “Sometimes starlings fly down my chimney and get in the house. One broke its neck trying to fly out through the French doors last winter. I’ll bet that’s what happened.”

  He stared at me with those black filled eyes as though he was thinking of doing far more than smacking me against the tree.

  “We don’t have chimneys. Only angels can gate there. So how did you manage to get a dead bird there? And why? Why did you come there? How did you know to come to the forth circle? What is the bird supposed to signify?”

  “Maybe one of your angel friends brought it there? As a snack maybe?”

  His fingers dug into my shoulders, as he held me firmly against the tree. Then he leaned down with his mouth right in front of my ear. I clenched my teeth together, fighting conflicting emotions of fear and anticipation, and fighting my eager personal energy that didn’t seem to recognize the seriousness of the situation at hand.

  “I know your energy signature as if it were my own. Your presence there lingered behind and I could feel you on the dead bird, too. I will only ask you one more time. How did you get that bird there, and what is its purpose?”
>
  I held there a few moments, savoring the threat in his voice, enjoying the fissure of fear shivering through me. Because that’s how we roll.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied.

  He actually put his mouth against my skin. On my neck right under my ear. I could feel his breath against my skin. My own breath came in fast, shallow little bits and I waited to feel those pointed teeth. Or the hot needles in the tip of his tongue. I was terrified. And I was so turned on. One scrape of those teeth and I’d be in ecstasy. And then I’d probably be dead. The fact that he was willing to risk his own life and a chunk of the county in killing me and releasing the huge amount of raw energy I held indicated how enraged he really was. Oddly enough, I hoped he survived the explosion.

  Instead, he pulled away from me and let go of my shoulders, obviously struggling for control.

  “I’m busy.” He backed away to a respectable distance. “I don’t have time for your childish antics. I cannot concentrate on what I need to do with you pulling impish pranks and throwing your energy around. I thought this would end when I fixed the brand, but it didn’t. I should just take you back to Aaru and put you in a cage.”

  “I’ve been good. I haven’t broken any of your rules. I haven’t Owned anything, I haven’t killed any human, haven’t started any plagues or global weather events. I’m not even masturbating with the brand anymore. What am I doing that is so annoying?”

  He glared at me. “I told you no conversion. There is a green cat with six legs walking around downtown.”

  I couldn’t resist the cat. The whole story had been so intriguing. “That was just a little tiny conversion, nothing big. Nothing that should bother you. It shouldn’t count.”

  “Flying down the Potomac River? That’s not a little conversion. I’m going to drag you to Aaru and put you on a leash as punishment.” He sounded as if the prospect of me leashed in Aaru held great appeal for him.