Angelbound THRAX

by Christina Bauer

All the Earls start laughing their asses off. I count the major houses seated at the table, including Striga, Acca, Kamal, and Horus. Plus, a bunch of minor houses showed up, too. My Lincoln didn’t say any of these folks would be joining the summit. It was just supposed to be me, Cissy, Lincoln, and Ethan. What’s going on here?

  Ethan snaps his fingers at me. “Myla? Did you hear what I said? I gave you a wide variety of greetings to choose from.” The Earls look between Ethan, Evil Lincoln, and me, their attention rapt. Ethan is clearly testing me, and Lincoln is not backing me up. It’s like the best show they’ve seen in forever, especially since we don’t have television in Antrum.

  Whatever. Color me not worried.

  Ethan just let his soft spot show, which you should never do off the bat in a battle. It’s clear that the guy is obsessed with having his ass kissed. Which means that Queenly-Myla isn’t the right fit for this situation. Nope. I need to push Ethan’s buttons, and that’s a job for the old me.

  “You gave me a variety of greetings?” I arch my right brow into my best bitch face. “All those fake titles, you mean?”

  Ethan’s nostrils flare. “They are not fake.”

  “Look, Eth.” I pull out the chair beside his and slide on in. “Let’s get things straight. For the record, I call you whatever I want, and you call me Queen Myla or Your Majesty.” Normally I’m not one for titles, but this guy brings out the worst in me.

  Ethan’s thin mouth quivers with rage. It really is too easy to push his buttons. This is just like being back at Purgatory High. Ah, how I used to love working over my ghoul teachers until they cracked. Such good memories.

  “Here’s what I have to say about that.” Ethan slams his palms against the tabletop. “Guards!”

  Once more, the doors swing open. A half-dozen humans march into the room. At least, I think they’re human. It’s hard to tell because they have black bandages wound across their faces. Besides that, they’re all wearing long dark coats, tall jackboots, and shiny brimmed hats. It’s like they fell out of a black and white movie about Nazis.

  I point at each of the men in succession. “Those are your guards?”

  “They are my Razor Guards, to be exact. Each one’s a human warrior that I’ve trained personally.”

  “Isn’t that interesting?” I scan the thrax leaders around the table. “What do you think, my Earls?”

  No one replies. Instead, they all keep looking to Evil Lincoln for guidance on how to act. For his part, my fake husband stands casually beside my chair. It’s like Razor Guards march into our meetings every day. He’s way too calm.

  Clearly, I need to double-down on my disrespect.

  “Let me put this another way,” I continue. “Does anyone else think it’s really weird that Ethan’s guards are all dressed like Nazis with bandaged-up faces? I mean, I go on demon patrol all the time, and this is not a look that is sweeping the human world.”

  The Earls all decide that now is a great time to stare at the ceiling and pretend that I didn’t use the word “Nazis” in a sentence. My back teeth lock in frustration.

  Sometimes, my subjects suck.

  Evil Lincoln moves to crouch by my chair. “Ethan’s only bringing in a little extra help in case you lose your temper again.” He shoots the Earls a knowing look. “What did I tell you, boys? Pregnant women.”

  All the Earls share secrets smiles and knowing nods.

  Correction. Sometimes, my subjects suck hard.

  Still, I have to try to save them. Even if it is from themselves.

  I glare at Evil Lincoln. “Seems you were quite the busy boy while you had me locked up. Visiting the Earls? Telling ‘crazy hormonal wifey’ stories?”

  “I did visit the Earls, and yes, I absolutely informed them of your condition,” answers Evil Lincoln. “But I did so only for your safety, my dearest.” He gives me a simpering grin. “My sole concern is for you and the baby.”

  “Really.” I lean back in my chair and kick my feet onto the tabletop. “The baby and I want to talk to Eth. Alone.”

  Ethan narrows his eyes. “You still haven’t addressed me properly, you know.”

  And again, this situation reminds me so much of Purgatory High, I almost want to change into gray sweats and ask for an Arena battle. Been there, tortured that. All I need to do is push the “disrespect” button on Ethan until he lets something slip. And if verbal shoves don’t work, I’m not above the real thing.

  I set my feet back onto the floor with a thud. Leaning in closer to Ethan, I lower my voice so only he can hear. “I’ll call you anything I want.”

  Ethan replies in a tone that can’t be heard by others, either. “Not for long.” After that, he sits up straight, forces a smile, and gestures across the table. When he next speaks, his voice is super-loud. “Now, I’d like to share my dazzling achievements.”

  I can’t believe this. “Back to you, are we?”

  Ethan lifts his rounded chin. “That’s why everyone came to this summit, Myla. It is all about me.” Now that he’s showing off, Ethan seems calmer.

  Boo. Ethan’s getting happy again? That means I need to up my game.

  With so much going on, I hadn’t paid attention to the tabletop. For the first time, I notice how it’s covered in model trains, tanks, and helicopters. If I need to needle Ethan, then this makes it just too easy. “Toys? You brought a bunch of toys to Antrum?”

  “These are not toys.” Ethan’s voice quivers with rage. I feel confident I’m making real progress again. Ethan will crack soon for sure.

  I pick up a helicopter. “This really looks like a toy.” It also seems to be made of the same dark metal as the arrowhead that stole my real husband away. I hold the item closer. Tiny runes have been carved onto its surface. “This thing is lousy with black magic.”

  Ethan laughs. “What did I tell you, guys?” All the Earls guffaw right along with him. Ethan wipes under his eyes with his knuckles, brushing fake tears away. “I knew she’d be frightened of my models.”

  I mouth one word: Toys.

  Ethan’s laugher dies right down. “For your information, these items came from Earth, where all sorts of things can get contaminated with demonic aura. Honestly, we’d never go on demon patrol if we worried about every little thing getting a touch of darkness. No, the only thing we really need to focus on is when thrax get possessed. Trust me, I know all about this.”

  This is totally true, by the way. Having an item with a little demonic something-or-other won’t set up the Pulpitum alarms. Plus, Ethan just got to veer the conversation onto his tragic—if somewhat sketchy in my opinion—past with his family. I need to get things back on track. “Whatever you choose to call these things, I don’t know why they are here.”

  “These are small replicas of actual prototypes that I’ve created on the Earth’s surface,” snaps Ethan. “Behold my glory.” He gestures across the table once again, just in case we missed it last time. “I have merged human technology with thrax magic.”

  My eyes narrow. “Thrax magic? You mean from the House of Striga?” I stare at Lucas, the Earl of that house. “You were in on this?”

  Lucas is an older dude with pale skin and long gray dreads. “No, Ethan has found a new strain of thrax magic.” He nods excessively, which makes the beads in his dreads jingle. “It’s most exciting.”

  I eye Lucas carefully. The Earl has been a great supporter in the past. Most recently, he helped Lincoln and me sneak off to Earth. Based on the childlike glimmer in his eyes, I don’t think he’s being a traitor here so much as really, really gullible.

  Smacking my lips, I refocus on Ethan. “We’ve got machinery in Purgatory. Trust me, technology doesn’t make things easier. It just pushes the problems around.”

  “That doesn’t happen when you use my tech.” Ethan next raises a toy tank above his head. “Machines from Hunter Enterprises are infallible. We send them out on demon patrol, and they do all the dirty work while my people stay safe in a master skyscraper.”

&
nbsp; At the mention of the words “master skyscraper,” all the Earls’ eyes go wide. It’s rare for an Earl to go on demon patrol. Their lives are simply too important. As a result, most of these dudes have never set foot on the Earth’s surface. Based on the hungry looks on their faces, these Earls clearly believe that Ethan’s inventions will be their “get out of jail free” card from Antrum.

  Plus, demon patrols are pretty self-sufficient. Thrax make their own calls on the Earth’s surface. The most these Earls can do is play post-game quarterback on the big show of thrax life: killing demons. How much would these egomaniacs love to have more hands-on control? A whole lot.

  “Look, there’s no way to avoid this.” Ethan sighs dramatically. “This is the way of the future. We will fight demons with tech. Right, Linc?” My fake husband nods enthusiastically. “And I need the Earls at my side. We aren’t the only ones who can dream up new technology. What if the demons find someone to build them new machines?”

  “None of the demons can plan their way out of a paper bag.” I shrug. “Except Armageddon, that is.”

  “We’re not talking about Armageddon,” says Ethan. And I can’t help but notice the fear that gleams in his mismatched eyes. You only get that look if you’ve met the King of Hell face to face. “My point is that these machines exist. Either we use them or the enemy will.” Ethan gestures across the table. “Am I right, men?”

  And in a not-so-shocking move, all the Earls agree that Ethan is right.

  Yipes.

  The Earls are fanboying again, so Ethan is retaking control. I need to shut down this Ethan love-fest and fast. “Look, I don’t care what you say, Eth. No machine can replace a trained thrax on demon patrol.”

  Ethan’s shoulders vibrate with rage, and with that, things are back where they should be: with Ethan losing his mind. I haven’t broken dozens of ghoul teachers not to know the warning signs. Any second now, Ethan will crack and blab something incriminating in front of the Earls.

  “We don’t replace thrax,” snarls Ethan. “We put them into a high-tech control room where they can monitor everything from a safe distance. Besides, things cloud-side have changed. Demons are becoming visible.”

  I wave my hand. “No way. It’s a basic fact of life that anything demonic and angelic can not be seen by the human eye.”

  “They’re visible, I tell you!” Ethan slams his fist on the tabletop. All the toys bounce. “They’re infiltrating everything. Even my own tech isn’t safe. I have a huge event coming up, Touch The Tech, where all my best machinery will be on display. What if demons infiltrated some of my weaponry? We’d need a counter-strike with even more tech, all of it manned by my Razor Guards and these Earls. They must be ready to go on a moment’s notice.”

  “That’s a rather specific scenario.”

  “Only because it’s very possible,” offers Evil Lincoln.

  The plan here comes into better focus. “Let me get this straight. You could have some kind of event that ‘visible demons’ infiltrate.” I make little quotation mark with my fingers when I say the words “visible demons.” “And what would you do then?” As the answer appears, I snap my fingers. “I’ve got it. You’ll shut down the thrax demon patrols and send in your Razor Guards on this souped-up magical tech.”

  “Now, you’re talking sensibly,” says Evil Lincoln. “Ethan is proposing a new way to manage demon patrol. The Earls work directly with the Razor Guards and this new machinery in order to protect everyone.”

  Ethan’s plan is coming into focus, except for one blurry item. “But that still doesn’t explain why you keep asking for thrax troops.”

  Ethan huffs out a breath. “You can’t expect my Razor Guards to do all the work. Some thrax would be needed to bolster my troops. From the minor houses, mostly.” Ethan then goes on to list out the houses involved. I can’t help but notice none of them have Earls represented at this table.

  I’ve heard enough.

  “This isn’t improved demon patrol,” I state in a loud voice. “It’s an attempted coup.”

  “Please, dearest.” Evil Lincoln flashes his palms in the universal movement of calm down. “There is no coup. I’m in full support of this plan. Can’t you see it’s a major improvement.” He blinks a lot. That’s quickly becoming my least favorite look on him. “You approved this as well, don’t you remember?”

  “No.”

  “You’d remember if you were thinking clearly,” says Ethan. “This is about improving things in Antrum. We need to join the current century. Simply put, we must use our best teams and technology.” He fiddles with one of the helicopters, and it starts to fly.

  Watching the tiny toy hover over the table, all the Earls go “ooooh” in unison. I can almost see Ethan’s ego plump back up to its regular globe-shattering proportions.

  Damn.

  This situation is beyond belief. The room is filled with Nazi wannabes, small plastic toys, and a nutjob with a death wish. Meanwhile, all the Earls see is the fact that they can play demon patrol leader while someone else dies for them.

  Bottom line: the Earls still need an attitude adjustment.

  “What happened to the soldiers we gave you?” I ask. “We never hear from them.”

  Ethan shrugs. “They all love Earth life so much, they simply retired with the humans. Can I help it if they don’t want to write?”

  My mouth falls open. “That is a total crock.”

  “Try to calm down, my little lamb.” Evil Lincoln sets his palm on my shoulder.

  I pluck his hand away. “No touchie.”

  After that, Ethan picks up a toy motorcycle and starts to blah-blah-blah about how every Earl will get their own bike. A few of them actually start to drool.

  Sitting upright, I drum my fingers on the tabletop. I have to hand it to Ethan. Unlike the ghouls, he has figured out a way to defuse my smart mouth. Each time I push Ethan toward Rageville—which should quickly lead to Spill The Beans Land—he just cracks out another toy. Enough is enough. I’ve found out all I can from Ethan by playing Little Miss Disrespectful.

  It’s time for my pushing to go from verbal to physical.

  I stand up right so quickly, the chair falls down behind me. The room falls silent. A model blimp topples over with a sad little plunk. I turn to Ethan, my tail arched over my shoulder, ready for attack. At my mental command, the threads of my clothing realign from Scala robes into battle gear.

  Everyone freezes in surprise. In my opinion, the face-wrapped Nazi guards should have brought out this level of shock, but maybe that’s just me. For their part, the Razor Guards reach into the coats, no doubt getting ready whatever weapons they brought with them.

  I shift my weight onto the balls of my feet, ready to lunge straight at Ethan. The moment is perfect. My enemy looks like a frightened little man-bunny. No way did he think I would do anything this aggressive.

  That’s when I notice the mirrors.

  The walls here are covered with them…dozens of mirrors in different frames and sizes, fitting together in a complex mosaic. All these mirrors…that’s why this room is called the Chamber of Reflection. I was so cranked up about Ethan, I just didn’t remember it before.

  My throat tightens with anxiety. Will I glimpse my Lincoln again? Last time, I checked the mirrors in the honeymoon palace, but maybe there was something wrong with them.

  Evil Lincoln moves to stand beside me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, just give me a minute.”

  My fake husband says something again about women and pregnancy, but I’m too distracted to really hear the words. I have bigger things to worry about.

  Like seeing my true husband once more.

  With careful steps, I make a slow circuit around the room, checking out each mirror as I go along.

  Ethan takes my silence as the go-ahead to keep right on talking. I don’t care. From every corner of my soul, I crave even the smallest glimpse of my Angelbound love. The first set of mirrors show nothing, but there are far
too many to give up hope.

  I move on to the second wall.

  Meanwhile, the Earls go back to playing with their toys and ignoring yours truly. Long story short, no one bothers me. At this point, that’s just fine.

  As I scan each mirror in turn, I’m vaguely aware of Ethan talking to the Earls. He’s handing them some line of garbage about his new magic combining with human technology to create an unstoppable force.

  And they’re lapping it up with a spoon.

  “Look at this.” Ethan carefully lifts a cell phone from the tabletop, cradling it in his hands like it’s a precious relic. “This device can act as a communications console, portrait recorder, and entertainment center. It can even allow you to play games.”

  The Earl of Kamal’s eyes grow wide. “Like chess?”

  Ethan nods sagely. “Especially chess.”

  I move on to a new wall and scan more mirrors. Portrait recorder? Chess? Ethan hasn’t even gotten to the good stuff, and the Earls are already putty in his hands. This is precisely why my Lincoln didn’t allow flashy contraband tech into Antrum. It gives good thrax bad ideas. Like, you know, the concept that living a glamorous life on Earth is worth a swift and painful death. Demons always find thrax sooner rather than later. I shiver. It always results in a grisly end.

  Ethan next picks up a model plane. “Here’s one of our new luxury jets.” He smiles another Chiclet grin. “It’s enchanted to be invisible. No need for Pulpitums to get around Earth. You can fly around in one of these!”

  The Earls lean forward, their faces locked in rapt attention.

  Ethan picks up the toy blimp. “And here is my magic dirigible. I use it to float high above the fray, as any Supreme Leader should.”

  This time, the Earls all go “ahhhh.” At least, they are mixing up their noises of adoration.

  “So, what do you say?” asks Ethan. “Do I have your support?”

  “Of course, Supreme Leader,” replies Evil Lincoln quickly. “Our troops and resources are at your disposal.” The Earls glare at Evil Lincoln. “And by troops, I mean from other houses. None of the houses here would be affected, obviously.”