Conquer the Dark

by L. A. Banks

  “That part of it is not our fight,” Gavreel said, placing a hand on Bath Kol’s shoulder. “But you do know the man will have to revisit his actions one day. True?”

  Bath Kol nodded and relaxed a bit.

  “That’s why dere was no blood down dere. A guard got paid with some cash and what he thought was a gold trinket in exchange to turn a blind eye while a man was murdered and a tomb was robbed. Probably took a bottle and a broad down dere and dropped da ring. What difference does it make at this point? Details don’t matter, and as they say, the damned devil lives in the details. Point of fact is, the darkness got the sarcophagus, now what?” Isda said, then loped off toward the bus. “And you tell me why we shouldn’t beg the Source to leave this entire planet a smoking black hole!”

  “Four very good reasons,” Azrael said calmly to the others, allowing Isda to walk it off. Azrael let his gaze rove over Celeste, Magdalena, Melissa, and Aziza to make his message sink in for the other brothers. “I want us off the streets and on the water where we have a strategic advantage. Going through these little towns by bus is out. Now that a human has walked over that grave or disturbed the dark site of a murder,” he said, pointedly looking at Aziza and Bath Kol, “we’re traceable. If we go by rail, that’s more risk right now than I’m willing to take. If we go through these streets, we’ll be right smack in the middle of an urban combat situation, boxed in and around too many humans if all hell opens up in a ground battle. On the water, on a large vessel with a high deck, we can go airborne and do what we do best, men.”

  Bath Kol reached into the center of the group as Azrael closed his fingers around the ring and pounded his fist. “Then let’s light up the Nile, brothers. Make it flow holy water all the way from Uganda to the Mediterranean.”

  Celeste was well past wondering how Isda was always able to get them last-minute accommodations on various modes of transportation—being an angel definitely had its privileges. But he’d gotten them booked on a Nile cruise headed for Luxor that would continue to Edfu and terminate in Aswan before the mighty river reached the Aswan Dam. The brothers’ plan was to use the upper deck of the ship at night like an angel aircraft carrier, where under the cover of the night and with a little cloaking, they could take off and land and do flyovers without causing mortal panic.

  As much as she hated to admit it, here in Egypt she felt her mortality in full. Getting used to the extreme temperatures, the concern about drinking water from the tap, the sudden change of diet, and the sheer press of humanity sapped her energy. Then add to that the extremes in emotion, stress, and plain old sleep deprivation, and she was wiped out.

  She felt truly ashamed when she stepped onto the ship with her sisters and almost wept at the upgrade in accommodations. Never in her life had she imagined herself as spoiled and soft, not coming from where she came from. But seeing a little bit of what real poverty was, what really harsh climatic conditions were all about, she would be forever grateful for the small things in life—things that were actually pretty huge. And the sad thing was, what they’d experienced wasn’t even the truly rough stuff. She could only imagine what was out there in the so-called bush country.

  But as glorious air-conditioning blew through her hair, and plush lobby furnishings and twinkling crystal chandeliers greeted them as they checked in, Aziza squeezed her hand. No conversation was necessary. Every woman’s prayer for just a little respite had been answered.

  Once they’d gotten the billing and room keys settled and tipped porters, Azrael shut the door and closed his eyes for a moment.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded, but looked exhausted. That worried her.

  “I didn’t think angels got tired,” she said, trying to cheer him up and make him smile.

  He gave her a weak attempt, not his normal radiant one by a long shot.

  “You should lie down for a few, you know.”

  “I can’t, Celeste. We’ve got to secure the ship.”

  She watched him walk around the room touching the walls, the door, the floor, the bed, and the sliding glass doors that led to the private deck. Everywhere he touched washed blue for a few seconds and then the current disappeared. The black-and-gold rug had looked as if it were a glowing, moving blue river for a moment, and it was so disorienting that she held on to the black lacquer dresser until the vertigo passed. The gold bedspread lit up, just as the king’s-chamber-styled appointments had. When Azrael went into the bathroom, the faucets had come on by themselves, running blue water at full blast and turning the gold fixtures glowing white-hot before everything settled down again.

  “You can take a shower now,” he said, coming to her for a hug. “If anything manages to get in here, it’ll fry if it’s a demon or a member of the fallen.”

  “And if it’s a human?” she asked in a sober tone.

  For a moment Azrael just stared at her. “Then I guess I’ll have to mind-stun every passenger on this ship to bypass all our rooms.” He frowned and let out a hard breath. “In such a circumstance, it is allowable for self-defense of the innocent.”

  She didn’t answer him, just nodded and relaxed, which seemed to make him relax a bit, too.

  “But do me a favor,” he said after a moment. “Wait until I’m in the room before you go out on the private balcony. I know watching the Nile go by is seductive. I’ve placed protection on the windows and the railing, but if you fall over the edge, Celeste, I swear …”

  “I promise,” she said, holding him tightly. “It’s hot outside anyway. I’ll keep the air in, okay?”

  She felt his shoulders relax a little more and he released a long sigh.

  “Thank you. I’ll only be a little while with the brothers. There are a lot of human passengers on here, just like the train. We need to give them extra protection, too, search the ship to make sure there were no demon stowaways … that means charging every floor and pipe, making sure the food isn’t poisoned—I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “All right,” she murmured, and kissed him, tasting so much ambrosia in his mouth that it almost made her squint. “Then when you come back, I’m going to insist you take a hot shower and lie down for a couple of hours.”

  He touched her face, then slipped out of her embrace and left. She stared at the locked door for several minutes, hugging herself. He’d seen something, had felt something—that and he’d used up a lot of energy not only securing her and their group, but trying to make sure that no harm came to any innocent human. The emotions of his brothers were also taking their toll on him; that was as plain as day. And his worry that something might happen to her had to be the last straw.

  “You look weary, brother,” Azrael said as he approached Bath Kol at the nearly empty bar on the top deck.

  “You look like hell warmed over yourself.” Bath Kol turned a beer up to his mouth and winced. “Want one?”

  “I’m good,” Azrael said, sitting down hard.

  “It was warm anyway. Nothing in the country is cold, have ya noticed?”

  “Where’s Isda?” Azrael rubbed his palms down his face, ignoring the question.

  “Going through the ship’s bowels with Gavreel and Paschar. You should really have a beer, bro … you look stressed.”

  Azrael stared out at the pool and the honeymooners and the families basking in the sun. Some were sleeping in shade-covered cabanas. Children splashed in the water. Couples nuzzled in double-wide lounge chairs. Top 40 pop tunes blared near the pool bar. Attentive bartenders in white jackets ran drinks to tourists. An older couple played a game of chess with three-foot-high pieces, laughing with each other as they tried to move the oversize plastic pieces along the marked deck surface.

  “There’s too many of them to save if something goes terribly wrong here,” Azrael said somberly, not looking at Bath Kol.

  “Bartender, bring this man a beer, please.”

  Azrael kept his gaze on the mortals before him and accepted the lukewarm beverage.

  “There’s always t
oo many of them to save,” Bath Kol said flatly as he accepted another beer from the bartender. He motioned with a quick nod toward the young man who’d retreated to the other end of the bar. “He doesn’t speak English, so, while I pump up the frost on his refrigerator so the next beer is really the way I like it, ass-biting cold, you wanna tell me what’s got you all fucked up?”

  “She’s gonna die,” Azrael finally said quietly, then took a long swig of his beer. He looked out at the children and the lovers, and then at the older couple, then took another sip of beer and studied the label. “No matter what I do. She’s still part human.”

  Bath Kol let out a long breath. “That’s what they do, man … humans die.” He polished off his beer and set it down hard and motioned for two more. “Don’t look at those little kids playing in the water, man. I saw you on the bus, how your mind was getting twisted around by watching the happy little children who were running along the side of it. Don’t go there. You think you’re messed up now—ask me how I know. You lose a lover, yeah, you’ll grieve, but in time you’ll get over it. But you make one of those heart-stoppers and then watch them grow up, get old, and perish … and you’ll be as crazy as Isda.”

  When the bartender came, Bath Kol took up both bottles and handed a frosty brew to Azrael, while the confused young man went to go study his refrigerator.

  “And stop looking at aging humans. That isn’t going to be you guys. You’ll look like you look—forever. And she won’t. And it’s going to make her weep and hurt her soul and make her insecure and damned near suicidal—no matter what you tell her … unless you do a little something we’re really not supposed to do … and kinda allow some of that cosmic juice we’ve got to make you look like you’re aging in her eyes so it’s not so hard for her,” Bath Kol added more quietly, then took a long guzzle from his beer bottle. “It’s in the mercy and peace-of-mind clause. A loophole, but, hey. It’s the least you can do.”

  “I now understand why we were told not to get involved this way with our charges,” Azrael admitted in a quiet rumble, rolling his glass bottle slowly between his palms. “It was as much for our benefit as theirs.”

  “Yeah. I have learned while down here that the Source does have mysterious ways, even for us, but every time I think I might know better—and don’t get me wrong, I’m not defecting … just talking about using analysis on some of the laws, you know … but … after I break one, and I get my ass kicked by it and suffer the repercussions, I’m, like, I knew that. I knew better. I was told.”

  Azrael nodded. “I was indeed told.”

  “Yeah, man, but being down here is a game changer.”

  Azrael knocked his bottle against Bath Kol’s. “You have never uttered more truth.”

  “Being incarnate ain’t for no punk, bro. This place’ll make you bleed. Will put you on your knees and make you sob like a baby. Will make you wish you’d never been created.” Bath Kol took another sip of his brew and then turned his head to study Azrael. “Then again, it’ll curl your toes.” He smiled as Azrael glanced at him and took a long sip of his beer. “It’ll put your damned lights on and have you looking like a billboard in Times Square.”

  Azrael allowed a half smile to tug at his cheek.

  Bath Kol bumped Azrael’s shoulder with his own. “Am I lying?”

  “No,” Azrael said, chuckling. “You most assuredly are not lying.”

  “So, ain’t it worth it? Rules broken, wings busted, ass kicked, I’d say on the whole I’d rather be here than up there in the rarefied air where everything is pure and academic. I don’t mind getting dirty. I like fighting demons. I love blowing shit up. I make no apologies—like my women wild and crazy. I love being in love.” Bath Kol opened his arms wide while clutching a beer. “I like feeling alive. I like good, go-hard, sweaty, ridiculous sex! I love eating food that is bad for my cholesterol! I like … what else do I like? Uhm, beer, and bourbon, and barbecue—yeah! I like football and using foul language and dancing. Man, I love music, the raunchier the better. I love hanging out with my boys. C’mon, you’ve gotta lighten up. What do you like? You’ve been here three months, so if we get called back, what stories are you gonna have to tell the guys who got stuck in administration? Huh? They’re waiting for stories from the front!”

  “I like potato chips,” Azrael said, laughing around his bottle. “The extra-crunchy ones.”

  “Oh, you are so gonna make me kick your huge ass up on this deck.”

  “I do. It’s my main guilty pleasure. Celeste gave them to me once, and I couldn’t eat just one. She told me that I couldn’t and she was right.”

  Bath Kol spun around on his barstool to stare at Azrael with a wide grin. “So, when we go back home, that’s what you’re gonna tell the guys—you got turned out by Kettle chips.”

  Azrael laughed hard. “That’s all I’m going to admit to.”

  Bath Kol burst out laughing, spewing beer from his mouth and nose. “See, I knew you had a little rebel in ya! That’s my boy—never tell ’em more than they need to know.”

  Azrael knocked his bottle against Bath Kol’s and signaled for another round. “But seriously, man, I respect what you went through for twenty-six thousand. I’ve only been here three months and I’m worried about her.”

  Bath Kol landed a hand on Azrael’s shoulder. “Look, she’s not gonna last twenty-six thousand years. None of them do. That’s a fact of life on earth. If you’re lucky, since she’s Nephilim, you might get a couple hundred together before they call her home. But it’s all good. Have you told her yet how long she may live?”

  “No,” Azrael said, rubbing a palm over the nape of his neck. “There’s been so much happening, so much for her to deal with and absorb … I was trying to wait for the right time, trying to wait for—”

  “Be honest. You haven’t had that conversation yet with her because it’ll open up the other very real one you’re not facing about her eventual mortality.”

  Azrael nodded, took a swig from his beer, and stared at the deck floor. “More truth, brother.”

  Bath Kohl sighed. “Think of it this way, man. Now that you’ve experienced being with her, can you truly say that to avoid the inevitable heartbreak that’s gonna come—and, yes, it is gonna come—that you wished you’d never found her?”

  Azrael shook his head. “If I had never found her, I cannot imagine who I’d be … it’s like … I see this entire place so differently.”

  “Oh, shit, you are in deep.”

  Azrael polished off his beer and accepted the new one. “I might have messed up, too,” he said quietly when the bartender retreated.

  Bath Kol set his beer down very, very slowly. “What?”

  “I don’t know that to be a fact,” Azrael said, then took an extremely long swig of his beer. “But … things got out of hand and I don’t know. Her intentions are wavering, too. I could feel that on the bus when she looked out at the little ones. You know human contraception doesn’t work against our seed; it’s all about will, intention, vibrations. And—”

  “All right,” Bath Kol said, gesturing with his hands and almost sloshing his beer. “First of all, we need to cross that bridge when we get to it—when we have all the facts. Second, you can do one or two things with that information. One, you can let it make you so damned scared about this mission we’re on that you’re paralyzed, which serves no purpose. Or, because you think that’s the case, now you’re vested in this planet’s surviving. So, if you were crazy before, you ought to be fighting for this joint like you’re insane now. Feel me?”

  Bath Kol leaned into him, his eyes wide. “I’m serious, man. We need your head on straight for this mission. So, what’s it gonna be? Which are you? The warrior who’s so worried about what could happen that he’s immobilized, or the one who’s insane? Tell me now, because I’ve gotta know who’s leading these troops and who’s got my six in a firefight. Which warrior, dude?”

  Azrael took a slow sip from his bottle and set it down with precision. �
��The one who’s absolutely out of his fucking mind.”

  Chapter 11

  Why can’t we see this bastard!”

  Asmodeus slammed his fist down on the table, splattering the blood contents of Rahab’s scrying bowl. She simply stared at the crimson fluid as it webbed across the table like a fast-moving cancer, then dipped her finger into it and calmly tasted it.

  “Because he does not want to be seen, milord,” she said drily.

  A serpent-quick backhand struck her cheek, and she smiled as Asmodeus narrowed his gaze and paced away from her.

  “It could be a trap,” she said, unfazed by his violent outburst.

  He spun on her. “How so?”

  “You are allowing emotion to cloud your judgment.” Unafraid, she walked up to him and stood her ground. “A Sentinel was out there with a human female—the seer … not one of the Remnant. That’s who walked over the desecrated area in Dendera, and that was the second time we picked up on their energy pattern. The first time was out on the Giza plateau, and they were all there. Now, we only feel two lesser lights? I say they have used those members of their team as bait. If we were to rush in and attack what appear to be two vulnerable members of their unit, that’s when we will be ambushed.”

  He walked away from her to stare at the setting sun. “Your point has merit.”

  “We should send them a lure. Since our search parties for them have proved fruitless and time is running out, make them come to us. We know they have to be on the water,” she said calmly. “If they were on the ground, we could track them—the two that stepped on the butchering site. But even they have vanished. There is no airport in Qena and I doubt that they have left the area so quickly. That only means one thing … they are on the water—holy water. The Nile is a death trap. So we must lure them off that treacherous channel of transportation and get them to come to us.”