"Exactly," I said. "That's why we believe Project Purgatory was an angelic creation. They were losing the War. It was a simple plan. The first step was to create this source of energy. The second was to make sure that they would harness the majority of its power."
"The church," Jase said.
I smiled. "Would it surprise you if I said Project Purgatory was activated a little over two thousand years ago?"
Both humans fell silent. The implications were rather unpleasant to believers. "So you're saying that the articles of the Christian faith are designed to absorb the souls of its believers for purposes of fighting this war?" Jase finally asked. "I find that difficult to accept."
"You're telling me," Tink said.
"Not just the Christian faith," I said. "The plan was masterful. Remember, Heaven and God believed they should guide and lead humanity, while Hell believed in a hands-off policy? That's exactly what happened. Heaven either planned it, or jumped to take advantage. They planted the seeds of hope and religion in dozens of cultures. Hope of Heaven. Fear of Hell. Understand?"
Tink swayed in her chair. Jase drummed his fingers on the table. Both of them were sweating, a little more than the heat in the kitchen called for. I almost felt bad about it, but kept an eye on Tink. Jase seemed to be a stable man, but if Tink became unhinged I'd be in trouble. "So what happened next?" she finally asked.
"Hell started to lose. Our power from Purgatory was a trickle and Heaven's was a torrent. Unfortunately, their heavy use of the system resulted in unrest. Some didn't believe in using human souls to fuel their war machine. At the height of their power, around Columbus's day, they were betrayed."
"Judas in Heaven." Jase sounded almost amused.
"A force infiltrated through a back route. They struck first at the intake from Purgatory and absorbed the power meant for the angels, then went for the Throne of Heaven. No one has the details, but the strike was a success. The betrayer struck the final blow himself and retreated to Hell with the handful of survivors. The War was over. So we thought."
"We struck back." I turned my head. Caleb was leaning against the door of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. His wings were visible, folded over his shoulders, and his eyes were shining faintly. "We struck back to avenge Him."
"That you did," I agreed.
"I'm not getting something here," Tink said. "God's supposed to be omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, everything. How could He die? How could He not know?"
I raised my eyebrows. "That's the result of millennia of public relations work. I don't think Caleb will argue that point. I mean, He is dead, isn't He?"
The angel ground his teeth, hard enough to be audible from where I was sitting. "I cannot deny that."
"So, after that, while Hell was celebrating the end of the War, the Angelic Choir assaulted Hell en masse. An epic struggle, according to the history books. We were winning that one too, but it was just a cover. The Choir had sent a host of small units to infiltrate all the way to the Throne of Hell and assassinate Lucifer."
"That's not true." I looked up at Caleb. He shook his head violently. "Not true at all, demon. The Independent Choirs were meant to be the distraction while the Assault Choir broke your forces head on."
"How-"
Jase touched my arm. "Caleb is a veteran," he said.
I blinked. A veteran? That made him over five hundred years old. What was he doing here? The number of surviving veterans on either side numbered in the dozens. "You fought in the War?"
Caleb didn't respond at first. After a moment, he turned and pulled his left sleeve up to his shoulder. A silver number glowed, the same shade as his eyes. Thirty-seven.
Exhaustion forgotten, I jumped to my feet, trying to take a step back. My feet tangled in my chair and I fell on my ass. The injury to my pride was substantial, but the imminent danger to my well-being was a little more important. I scrambled to my feet and flung myself headlong toward the other door in the kitchen, assuming that it would lead outside. I'd rather take my chances with the Duke than with him.
"Stop." I froze. Caleb was in front of the door. I hadn't heard him move, but there he was. "I take it you recognize the number."
"The Thirty-Seventh Independent Choir," I said. My mouth was dry. "Now I understand why you don't want to advertise your presence."
He smiled, just a slight tweak of his lips. "Lucky you, demon. You're blessed by having sanctuary. If I was a wiser man, I'd simply kill you where you stand."
"Hold on there, angel."
"Relax, Anna." Caleb glanced over my shoulder. "As long as I have your binding word that both of you will keep my identity secret. I don't trust him. I don't trust you either. However, I do trust that you would like to stay alive. Yes?"
"I do enjoy my life, as complicated as it's getting," I said.
"You've got our word," Tink added.
Caleb nodded and gestured to the table. I backed away, never taking my eyes off him. He circled the table, and when he sat, I sat as well. "You don't trust me, do you?" he asked.
"We already established your hypocrisy a while back."
"Don't push it, demon."
"So what's so important about this Thirty-Seventh Independent Choir?" Tink demanded. She had her knife out on the table in front of her, blade toward Caleb.
"Ask your demon."
"They were the unit that made it all the way," I said without being prompted. "They killed Lucifer and ended the War for good."
"We weren't supposed to," Caleb said. "That was supposed to be the honor for the main assault force. The Seraphim wanted his head themselves, almost as much as they wanted the Betrayer. They formed a bunch of us into Independent Choirs and told us to infiltrate, cause as much damage as we could. Seventy-seven Independent Choirs of seven angels each. They thought we would be enough to force them to respond to us, not enough to impact the main assault force. My Choir stayed under cover, all the way to the Ninth Circle. By the time we reached the Throne, the main assault was in progress. Lucifer's personal guard was on the way to reinforce their main lines. We entered the Throne."
He paused and stared at me. "Lucifer looked at us, and he laughed. Seven ragtag angels. One Prince of Princes. Shouldn't have been a contest, right?"
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. While I didn't hold much to the demonic side of my nature, it was part of me, and this was part of my history. He was part of my history, so to speak.
Caleb smiled, showing teeth. "He laughed and threw his sword at my feet. It stuck into the ground. Still there, as far as I know. 'That's for you, angel,' he said. 'Take it and kill me. End this War.' He didn't fight. Not even as we took him apart, piece by piece, slice by slice. He simply stood there, took it. Know what his dying words were, demon? Do you know what your Prince of Princes said as he died?"
"No one knows," I said. "No one knows, except for the survivors of the Thirty-Seventh Independent Choir. Three of which are still alive."
"Four," Caleb said. I twitched.
"What did he say?" Tink asked.
Caleb's silver eyes never left mine. "He cursed the Thrones. No angel will sit the Throne of Heaven ever again, nor will any demon sit the Throne of Hell. Only through the power and sacrifice of humanity will anyone breach the Gates of Purgatory."
"Why would anyone want to?" Tink asked. Both Caleb and I looked at her. "I mean, other than the symbolism, what's the point?"
I sighed. "You're a mage. Think about the symbolism."
She started to glare at me, then blinked. "Whoever sits on the Throne would be the symbolic ruler of Heaven or Hell, and as that sort of living symbol, they'd inherit the power that came along with it?"
"She's a little slow to pick things up, isn't she?" Caleb asked me.
"Not usually," I said. "Most of the time, she's prone to flashes of brilliance."
She pointed her knife at me. "Don't make fun of me."
"What, you can't recognize a compliment when you get one?"
"Your compl
iments aren't sincere enough."
"How can you tell how sincere they are?"
"Intuition."
I stared at her. "Are you serious?"
There was a loud knocking from the direction of the sanctuary. Jase excused himself. I poured myself another cup of soda. "So how did you survive, Caleb?"
"Providence."
"Blind luck, eh?"
"As you say, demon."
Tink jabbed idly at the table with her knife. "You two are getting along better than I expected you would."
Caleb glared across the table at me. "It's only because he has claimed sanctuary, and because of your bond for his behavior. Otherwise I'd have no compunction about killing a demon out of hand. "
I sighed. "When will either of you acknowledge that I'm only half demon, and it's in name only? I've spent the last seven years as a human, and I'd prefer to live the rest of my natural life as one."
"You are what you are, demon," Tink said.
"Give me a break, girl," I said. "I don't care if you condemn me for who I am, but just because of who my mom is? Guilt by association and heritage? How fair is that?"
"My life hasn't been fair. Why should yours be?"
"It's just a thought."
"Don't think. You're not cut out for it."
Caleb laughed. I glared at him. "Sorry. You two also get along better than I thought you would. I'd think a demon would be more resentful of his master."
"She isn't my master, as much as she'd like to believe so," I said. "Contracts are between equals, something for something. It's not like I want her soul. What would I do with it? She teaches me about human magic, I teach her about demons. She buys me food since she caused my unemployment. I introduce her to unsavory imps. It all evens out."
"That reminds you, I owe you a beating for what happened with Kibs."
"Don't blame it on me. You volunteered. Besides, I bet you liked it. I'm sure you're hiding a kinky streak." Jase returned with the pizzas just in time to see Tink lunge at me. After some choice words, more cleanup, and another roll of gauze, we set to eating.
Talk over the course of dinner turned to mundane topics. Jase had been pastor of the church for about fourteen years, and he had inherited Caleb as deacon from his predecessor. Neither mentioned when or why Caleb had told Jase about the War. I didn't ask. Making the angel nervous about it would just get me dead.
Tink pressed Caleb about what he did for a living in this day and age. The angel's day job was a plumber. I chuckled. He glared. It was a good cover. No one would suspect a handyman of being an angel, much less one of the most infamous angels in history. If his identity ever leaked, this place would be assaulted from all sides.
The angel's eyes narrowed as he looked at me. "Demon, you're drifting."
"I'm surprised I've stayed awake as long as I have," I said.
"What will you do next?"
The question was a surprise. Hadn't they already asked that? "Sleep, go home tomorrow, sleep more?"
"Not about that. About that other demon."
"Keep running in mortal terror?"
He sighed and looked at Tink. She shrugged. "We'll have to wait for Rashid to get back in contact. Once we find out what that demon's trying to protect, we can figure out what to do about it. Until then, it's just a waiting game."
"What can I do to help?" Caleb asked.
Tink frowned. "Stop threatening my demon?"
"Besides that."
"Defend me with your life."
The words hung in the air for a few moments. Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you have something dangerous in mind."
"Quite," she said. "And I can't trust my safety to this coward."
I snorted. "You're the one who was telling me to drive faster to get away from the Duke. I've saved your life at least twice now, and you're still convinced I'm a coward?"
"You're a coward because your first instinct is always to run and hide. No guts."
"And you have no brains. The fact that we've survived this long isn't because we're good, it's because we're lucky. I'm not about to go face off with a Duke if I can help it. You tell me how I can fight something several orders of magnitude more powerful than myself and stand a chance and I'll consider it. Until then, I'll run away from a fight I can't win, and I'll drag your stupid ass with me!"
She slapped her hands on the table, just as Jase coughed. "Language, please."
"You don't even try, demon. Caleb, would you stand up to that Duke?"
Caleb shrugged. "I'd give it a shot. I'd be able to escape if it went downhill."
"See? The angel's got guts. You don't."
"He's also a full blooded angel, a Power," I pointed out. "And he's an experienced combat veteran who is at least five hundred years old."
"Excuses."
I slammed my hands down on the table and stood up. Tink blinked and leaned back in her chair. "What's your malfunction, bitch? Are you trying to provoke me into losing control? What part of doomed to failure is so hard to understand? I know what my limits and abilities are. I know damned well that if I go head to head with a Duke, I'll lose mine! Are you stupid? What the hell will it take to make you believe me?"
She started to say something, but I turned my back on her and stalked toward the back door. As I reached to open it, her knife sunk into the door, a few inches from my hand. "Don't you dare walk out on me," she snarled. "Don't you dare."
"Fuck off, Tink." I opened the door and walked out. The sun was starting to set. I could smell smoke in the air, probably from the remains of my car. I stepped away from the church, counting the paces until I felt my ichor surge. I let it. Burn away some anger, burn my human blood to ichor, take out some frustration. I forced a bit of ichor to my fingertips, formed claws, and slashed my other arm open. Ichor hissed and steamed in the evening air.
"She hit a nerve, didn't she?" I turned my head. Jase stood a few steps behind me. I turned to face him and he blanched. "Good God!"
"Not something you see every day, right?" I asked. I held my clawed hand up and withdrew the ichor, letting it transform back to a normal human hand. "Check this out."
I dipped my fingers into the hissing green ichor and painted my wounds with it. The ichor on my fingertips dissolved, igniting my regenerative abilities. The skin on my chest, pitted and oozing, closed up and reformed. The laceration on my arm sealed itself. I didn't leave a scar, not even a mark. I used the last of the ichor to seal the stab wound through my hand, then unwound the bloody gauze. I held the hand up and flexed it for Jase's benefit.
He took a step forward, curious despite himself. "Impressive, yes."
"I assume you've seen Caleb heal himself," I said.
"Once or twice. Not often."
"Angelic purity, right? Their blood. Doesn't steam or smoke, right?"
Jase shook his head. "It smells good. I'm almost ashamed to admit that. It looked almost like water, the purest water I've ever seen."
I stripped the remnants of my shirt off, crumpled it into a little ball. "I don't suppose you have an extra shirt lying around somewhere that would fit me?"
"Maybe." He beckoned to me. "Let's walk around the building. Talk a little."
I fell into step beside him. I had no desire to confront Tink after that outburst. "You're a strange pastor, Jase," I said. "You're far too accepting of the idea that your God is dead, and that your concept of Heaven is nothing like reality."
"I was a teacher before I was a minister," he said. "And I was a historian before that. I learned a long time ago that there was more to this world than what we could see, or that science could prove. Why should I be surprised that some of it is even stranger than I had thought it was?"
I laughed. "Both sides promote their own stories. No one knows what really happened, or who created Purgatory, or why the Gates have been closed for five hundred years. Maybe Caleb's telling the truth. Maybe he was just trying to get a reaction out of me."
"You don't believe him?"
"Why wo
uld I? He's an angel who already tried to get me killed. For all I know he was trying to provoke a fight so I would break the sanctuary so he could kill me. Don't look at me like that. You witnessed it. Hell, you saved my life."
Jase sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I don't suppose you'll ever completely watch your language, will you?"
"Sorry."
"It's fine. You have to understand that Caleb is only trying to protect us. Of course he would consider a demon to be a threat. One word from you and it would bring catastrophe down on us."
"I have no intention of saying anything to anyone," I said. "I'm not that sort of guy. I mean, yeah, he's tried to kill me a couple of times now, but I can't blame him. We've been enemies since birth."
"I thought you were half human."
"Not in his eyes."
"Or hers."
"Or hers," I agreed.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm half demon," I said. "I can't deny it. I'm half human, half demon. My human side is mostly British ancestry, a little Dutch mixed in. My demonic half is House Asmodeus. My lineage runs unbroken to Asmodeus himself. I'm not a human, and I'm not a demon either. Halfblood."
Jase nodded. "And since you have a significant amount of demonic heritage, they see you as a demon."
"What do you see me as, then?"
"I see you as Isaiah Bright."
I couldn't help smiling at that. "Thanks."
"You're welcome. I do have a question. The Pact. Why?"
"Because this world is our world too, now," I said. "Heaven and Hell are inaccessible to us. The Gates of Purgatory bar both sides from returning home. The Pact exists because it's not in either side's interest to disrupt this world. We don't want another Celestial War taking place on this world. Not after how we nearly destroyed our own worlds."
"Perhaps not everyone feels that way," Jase said. "Perhaps that's why that demon is striking out. Maybe they're trying to start a new war."
I shook my head. "A Duke doing that would mean a large faction of his house was united behind him, and that would be an open secret. No, it's nothing that overt."
Jase still looked thoughtful as we walked up the stairs to the main entrance. He led me to his office, found a spare shirt that barely fit my frame, and let me rest. I closed my eyes, knowing I was safe for the moment. My dreams, as expected, were full of demonic red eyes, glowing swords, hellfire, and a very sharp knife. I didn't sleep well.
The Demon Inside Me Page 10
