by Tim Marquitz
“What?” The question was asked in triplicate. Katon and Scarlett stared at me like I was out of my mind while Venai just stared in disbelief.
“We’re not giv—”
I waved Scarlett quiet. “Look, Venai, as things stand, we’re at a three-way standstill. You have a piece, we have a piece, and the weres have a piece. What that means is none of us are going anywhere near Heaven before the world goes kaboom.” Gesturing to the Nephilim who lay dead around us, I laughed. “We can do this all day and it won’t change the outcome one bit. Seeing how we’re all gonna die anyway, who cares?”
Her eyes met mine and I saw a tiny crack of reason squirreled away in there. I went to work on it.
“The Nephilim are in just as much danger as the rest of us. If the weres win, they’ll cut down the Tree of Life and we’ll all become mortal. That includes you. At that point, it won’t matter how many of you there are; you’ll all die. You won’t pass Go, you won’t collect $200, and you won’t be going to Heaven.”
The crack slit wide. “What do you want?”
If only getting laid were so easy. “A truce of sorts.”
Scarlett shouted and stepped forward. Though Katon pulled her back, he looked a bit reluctant. He stared at me with questioning eyes, wondering what I was up to. Scarlett just looked like she wanted to kill me.
Venai shook her head. “Why? What do you get out of giving up your piece?”
“First off, I get to live. That’s pretty high up on my things to do list. I’m not gonna get to do it much longer if something doesn’t change soon.” I waved my hand in the general direction of Eden. “Second, your people aren’t looking to commit genocide like the weres. While it’s not the ideal solution, from our perspective, letting ya’ll win is easily the lesser of the three evils we face. We can always renew hostilities later.” My gun still trained on Jorn, I shook it to make my point.
Though she didn’t even blink, I could tell she was thinking it over. “So, you just hand the bone over and we go our separate ways?”
“Kinda, yeah, but I won’t be giving it to you, at least not here.”
The glare back on her face, Venai got to her feet. A finger of warning to Scarlett let her stay there.
“Then what do you propose?”
“You go back to your people and tell them I’ll be at the gate shortly to hand over the key piece. You have to make sure they’re ready to deal with the weres though, because the second I pull the piece out, it’s gonna rain furballs.”
“That’s it?”
I nodded. “I’m not greedy. I just want to wake up alive tomorrow.”
She looked to Scarlett, then back to me. It was clear what she wanted to know.
“I’ll never hear the end of her bitching, and you can guarantee she’ll be kicking down your door after the dust has settled, but she’ll go along for now. Won’t you, Scarlett?”
Venai looked to Scarlett again and I nearly disfigured my face trying to get her to agree with me. Scarlett went back and forth, glaring at both of us, but she finally relented. She knew me well enough to know I had a plan. Unfortunately, she also knew me well enough to realize it probably sucked and would likely end up getting us killed.
She was probably right.
A quiet sigh slipped from Venai as she looked to where Jorn kneeled, cradling Zellick’s body. “I’ll do this, but you and I aren’t finished. You will pay for Zellick’s death.”
A wise-ass remark hopped onto my tongue and I nearly choked swallowing it. Though I rarely listen to my own advice, it wouldn’t help things to antagonize. So instead, I took a handful of steps back and lowered my gun.
“I’ll be around.” At least I hoped I would be.
Venai didn’t waste any time. She summoned a portal beside Jorn and pulled it over them, Zellick still in the big guy’s arms. In just a second, all three were gone. Less than a second after that, I was on my ass, staring up at the spinning desert sky.
Scarlett stepped over me, a vicious snarl marring her beauty. “What the Hell are you thinking?”
“That this would be a lot less awkward if you weren’t trying to put your foot in my ass.”
She kicked me. Hard.
“How dare you give away Heaven.” She pulled her fist back to finish the job.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there.” I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m not giving anything away. Help me out, Katon.”
The enforcer walked to my cousin’s side and stared down at me. He didn’t look any more inclined to listen than she did. Rachelle came up behind them, and peeked around. It was hard to tell if she meant to rescue me or just watch.
“If you’ll stop beating me, I’ll explain.”
Scarlett growled, but she relented and slowly lowered her fist.
I climbed to my feet. “We don’t stand a chance against either army, let alone both. We got lucky here because they underestimated our abilities.” I pointed to the remaining members of DRAC who stood huddled together like refugees from a liberated concentration camp. “That won’t happen the next time. If the were-critters are busy fighting the Nephilim though, we can sit back and pick our moment.”
“Doing what?”
“Stealing the key out from under them.”
Scarlett drew in a deep breath and let it out slow as if I was starting to make some kind of sense to her. It’s happens every once in a while. “How?”
I nodded toward the mystic. “With Rachelle able to open a portal pretty much anywhere, we wait until the pieces are together, then port there and hit whoever has it with everything we’ve got.” A toothy smirk on my face, I continued. “Once we have it, we open the gate to Eden and make a mad dash for it, key in hand. As soon as we’re in, Uriel can seal Eden behind us to keep the rest of the clowns out.”
It was obvious Scarlett liked the idea, but she wasn’t sure. Katon voiced his concerns and Scarlett’s as well, no doubt.
“We’re not much in the way of reinforcements. Are you thinking we can turn the tide against Gabriel?”
“No, not really.” Scarlett started to complain, but I cut her off. “There is someone who can and he’s already there; Metatron.”
Scarlett whistled, a bemused smile crossing her lips. “I always knew you were crazy, but this plan of yours confirms it. Metatron has been comatose since God left.” The smile melted away as her voice hardened. “He couldn’t be bothered to help when Gabriel and Michael were slaughtering angels at the very heart of Heaven, so what makes you think he’ll care if a few more die?”
“You don’t think we can wake him?” I’d hoped for some optimism.
Scarlett shook her head, a tear rolling down her pale cheek. “It would take the return of God to draw him from his emotional slumber.”
That wasn’t gonna happen, but I couldn’t think of anything else we could do. “Do you have a better plan?”
Rachelle stayed quiet as Scarlett shook her head. I looked to Katon, who stared at the ground.
Sighing, I climbed up on my soapbox. “Look, I don’t want to die, but if I have to, I’d rather do it thinking we had a chance. Even if that chance is as slim as me getting to sleep with Megan Fox, it’s got to be better than nothing. The last thing I want to do is sit around and mope until the Winter Wonderland of Death comes to wipe me out of existence. Is that how you want to die?”
Katon raised his chin and met my eyes. There was fire there. “I’m in.”
Scarlett grinned at his approval and nodded. “If there is a chance I can spill Gabriel’s blood then I’m in as well.”
Rachelle just smiled. I’d probably have to remind her of what we decided later, but for now, her smile was good enough for me.
“Hey, Rachelle, I need a lift.”
“Where are you going?” Katon asked.
Scarlett looked at me, the same question etched across her face.
“I need to do a couple of things, plus I have to get Eve. Besides, somebody needs to tell the weres they’re invited to the shindig. You can’
t trust those party animals to show up on time.” I smiled and waved. “Stay here and get the troops ready. I’ll be back in a bit.”
While Rachelle whipped up a portal, I grinned. “Take me to Hell.”
Chapter Seventeen
After a few minutes spent digging around in Hell, I’d rounded up Eve and confirmed a hunch. Finished with that, I used the gate in Asmoday’s cell to pop into Baalth’s office. Poe met me with a gun aimed at my head.
“I’m either experiencing déjà vu or we’ve done this before.”
Poe growled and lowered his weapon. “You’ve been gone for hours. I was getting ready to come after you. What happened?”
“Got a little distracted. Oh, and I’d advise against using the gate anytime soon. In fact, I’d suggest locking it down. Turns out, you’ve got a pretty big varmint infestation down there.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Varmint?”
“Varmint, dread fiend, same thing.”
He stared at me a moment, no doubt waiting for the punch line. When he realized there wasn’t one, he sent a spike of mystical will toward the pentagram to seal the gate. Sparks glimmered along the golden lines and the lights flickered for second, then the star turned black. Finished, he turned back to me.
“Are they what killed Asmoday?”
Unsure if I should tell him about the empty case, I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
His eyes narrowed at my answer, but he didn’t say anything. Having not been definite, even though I doubted the fiends had butchered Asmoday, he couldn’t get a bead on my true feelings.
Before he could start asking more questions, I got to my reason for being there. “Hey, you got plans for tonight?”
He looked at me and I swear I saw a flash of red color his cheeks before his mask of neutrality washed it away. “You’re asking me why, Mister Trigg?”
A once in a lifetime opportunity in my grasp, I bit my tongue and let it slip away. Damn. “We’re a little short on the Save the World Committee and I was hoping we could enlist your help.”
He swallowed deep before he answered, “What do you have in mind?”
“We’ll be storming Heaven a little later, and if you don’t have anything better to do, we’d appreciate your assistance.”
He sighed, knowing full well I was serious. “I’ll clear my calendar.”
I told him we’d swing by and pick him up when everything was in place, making it clear I didn’t want Marcus tagging along. That done, I headed for the house.
* * * *
A hop, skip, and a teleport later, I was home. Chatterbox greeted me with happy giggles as I entered the living room, bouncing up and down on the table beside the couch. The TV was on and Dawn of the Dead screamed from the screen. A quick flick of the remote dropped the volume to a reasonable level.
Both Chatterbox and I grumbled at the same time, though for different reasons. He complained because I’d turned the movie down. I was annoyed because the remote was covered in zombie tongue-slime. He got the better end of the deal.
“You can turn it back up in a bit,” I said to keep him quiet, my hand unconsciously wiping the slimy, gray-green nastiness off on my pant leg.
The screams and howls of the dying and undead—those on the screen and those in my house—muted well enough I could think again, I headed for my room when there was a sudden, loud knock on my front door. Chatterbox and I whipped our heads toward the door at the same time. The security camera monitor in the foyer was filled with static, so I couldn’t see who was outside. It got me thinking.
Neck deep in paranoia, I pulled my gun out and let my senses loose. It’s not like I expected my current crop of foes to politely knock at the door, but you never know. Stranger things have happened.
My senses relayed back a lack of any substantial mystical aura, but there was a glimmer of confusion in what I felt. It was as if they couldn’t read what lay beyond the door, an uncertainty in their report. Not encouraged by that, I probed a little deeper as the knock rang out again, a little more insistent this time.
Not able to pick up anything I could construe as a magical threat, I whispered for Chatterbox to sit by the phone just in case. To be safe, I ran to my room and stashed Eve with the blood vials, then I went to answer the knock.
“Who is it?”
A muffled, but polite voice answered, saying something I couldn’t understand, though I picked out the word neighbor. Still unsure, I cracked the door open and peeked outside, my gun just out of sight and ready to go.
Two men stood there in simple black suits. My eyes instinctively went to their hands and saw they were empty and relaxed, so I drifted back to their faces. The men smiled at me in stereo.
One was dark skinned, though it seemed more from exposure to the sun than natural pigmentation, and the other was so pale I could almost see through him. Both were shaved bald and neither had the slightest hint of facial hair. Their twin brown eyes sparkled with excitement and their perfect teeth seemed to glimmer in the dim light, their smiles wide.
The shorter of the two, though neither of them could be called short—both easily six feet plus—proffered his hand.
“Mister Frank Trigg?” His voice was smooth; a salesman’s modulated tone. The use of my name sent a shiver up my spine. Once more, everyone seemed to know me, but I had no clue who the Hell they were. It was getting seriously annoying.
My glance flickered back to their hands. I’d been looking for weapons the first time, but now I was looking for pamphlets.
“Out a little late to be selling salvation, aren’t we?” At the risk of appearing rude, I didn’t take the man’s ashen hand.
He lowered it easy, not looking the slightest bit bothered, as though it happened all the time. “My name is Jonas Black and my partner here is Ethan White. We’d like you come with us.”
My eyes shifted back and forth between the two and I shook my head, trying not to laugh. Someone in their family trees had a wry sense of humor. “I’m not sure who you gentlemen are, but I really don’t have time for this right now.” The politely disguised order made me think they were government agents of some sort. If that were the case, I definitely didn’t need to be talking to them, let alone going anywhere. “Come back in a couple of days and we can chat all you want.” If the world still exists, that is.
White took a step forward, the smile still on his face. “I’m afraid we must insist.”
My finger on the trigger, I went to close the door. “Some other time, thanks.”
Jonas Black stuck his hand between it and the frame, the door thumping against his knuckles as though they were made of brick. Despite my leaning against it, he left it there and the door stayed cracked.
A quiet voice called out from the other side. “We need you to come with us now, Mister Trigg. This matter cannot wait.” There was no change in his inflection, but the words seemed somehow harder, fiercer.
No clue what these guys wanted, or who they were working for, I didn’t have time to be nice anymore. My foot against the door to hold it in place, I swept down with my pistol grip and smacked Black’s hand. It was like banging two steel pipes together.
A sharp metallic clack rang out and his hand popped free of the frame, the door slamming shut once it was out of the way. The house wards came up instantly, their energies prickling my skin as I ducked around the corner to be out of the line of fire.
Turns out that was a good idea, though not for the reasons I’d expected.
A thunderous explosion shook the house and my front door was blown off its hinges. It flew backwards down the hall and through the living room until it crashed into the adjoining kitchen wall. The impact devastated both. Shards of plaster and wood flew everywhere, a gray dust kicking up.
Chatterbox rolled for cover as the door hit, dropping off the table to cower behind the couch. I made sure he was safe before tucking my head. Then waiting until the pieces settled, I cast a glance down the hall.
The two men were out by the street, fla
t on their backs where the explosion of the defending wards had tossed them. Smoky whispers drifted from them as they quickly got to their feet. The house unprotected, I hunkered down and took aim.
Their smiles gone, they ran straight toward the missing door. The move was so obviously stupid, it made me wonder if there were more of them behind me somewhere, waiting for me to take the bait. They couldn’t possibly be that dumb.
“Watch my back,” I called out to Chatterbox, just in case. He moaned an affirmative.
The men closing, I waited to make sure my shots counted. Just as they reached the threshold, I put two in the chest of Ethan White. The impacts rang out as though I’d shot a steel plate.
