by Debra Dunbar
“The angels are going to have their hands full in another week. You could easily hide from them, or blame it on someone else.”
“Like who?” Dar chuckled. “Outside of a nuclear blast, a demon is the only thing that can kill an angel.”
“There will be plenty of nuclear blasts. Tell you what, give me a hand taking her out, and I’ll ensure you have a convenient detonation here in Chicago to cover your tracks along with other compensation.”
“There are limits to what I can promise,” Dar warned. “This Iblis may be my sister, and the head of my household, but she’s very unpredictable. I could be called back to her side at any minute.”
Rubeus waved a dismissive hand. “No problem. If things go as I’ve planned, we can resolve all this by end of day tomorrow.”
“I’m intrigued. Go ahead.”
“This angel of yours has become a pain in my ass. Help me lure her somewhere and I’ll kill her. Then I’ll blow up the city and cover our tracks. In return, I’ll ensure both you and the Iblis get a cut of all profits I make—including your choice of humans to Own and play with.”
“What percentage of profits?”
“Ten.”
Dar snorted. “Sixty.”
Rubeus turned bright red. “Fifteen.”
The other demon narrowed his eyes. “Forty or I call the Iblis and have her negotiate with you one-on-one.”
The genie paled, no doubt thinking that any demon who took out Ahriman wasn’t one he wanted to be “negotiating” with. “Deal.” Reaching in his pocket, he passed a scrap of paper to the demon. “Have her here tomorrow morning before nine. Think you can manage that?”
Dar pocketed the paper then thought for a moment, watching as a taxi splashed a sheet of water from the road onto a passerby. “Yeah. I can manage that.”
Chapter 21
Asian and European markets are in free fall after Genus Micro’s Ouroboros security software proved vulnerable to hackers. Prominent cyber-security expert, Donald Marshall states that the software contained a major flaw that left corporations and governments wide open to this attack, leading him to conjecture that the Ouroboros software was rushed to market before being adequately tested. Others suspect Genus Micro’s CEO, Carter Phelps, of orchestrating the attack as a means to profit from the siphoned funds. Is Carter Phelps just inept, or a high-tech embezzler?”
Asta turned from the TV, sipping her espresso with a twist—her last espresso with a twist. The enforcer taking over protection of Chicago was due here any minute for her to transition. She was going home.
She’d searched all night, but Phelps, or rather Rubeus, was nowhere to be found. Had he left the city? There was really no reason for him to stay now that his plan was in action.
Not that it mattered. This was about to become someone else’s problem. The thought nearly turned her stomach inside out. It wasn’t just that she’d failed to resolve this, failed to eliminate the threat before he acted, it was leaving her beloved city that hurt the most, all the humans she’d grown to care about—and Dar.
She hadn’t seen him since yesterday. He hadn’t even said goodbye. Maybe he was done with her after getting what he wanted. He’d tempted an angel to sin, and when she wasn’t ready to abandon work for fun, he ditched her.
Or maybe he just wasn’t good at goodbyes. She wasn’t sure she was either. What would she say to him? “Thanks for the macarons and the amazing sex. Have a good life. Try not to get dusted by an angel.” Or make love to one. The thought of him moving on to seduce another twisted her up with doubt and jealousy. Not that she would blame him. He was a demon, had a life to live while she’d be spending hers up in Aaru restoring her purity.
“Some guy left this for you with the hostess.” The waitress slid a note to her, a sly smile on her face. Asta felt the energy signature before she’d even noted the sigil. Dar.
I found Phelps. He’s at Richland Tech’s offices. 231 S LaSalle, suite 1904. And get a fucking cell phone.
She had to smile. By all of creation, she was going to miss that demon. He’d come through for her. He’d been hunting down the genie when she’d assumed he’d given up on her and moved on. Would he be there? Would she get to see him one last time before she left?
It was Saturday, six in the morning. There would be few people, if any, in the office in Chicago’s Loop business district. If she acted fast, she could catch Rubeus before the workaholic humans showed up, and then be back here before noon to transition the city to the new enforcer. And if she was very lucky, maybe have a chance to give Dar a proper goodbye.
***
Fluted Ionic columns topped with scrolled volutes lined the entrance to the office building. Casually dressed humans jogged in and out of the bank ATM vestibule on the lower floor, but Asta was the only one heading into the main lobby. At least, she planned to enter it if she could just manage to navigate the stupid revolving doors.
She knocked in vain on the locked side door, trying to get the attention of the dozing security guard whose feet were propped on the lobby desk. Standing helplessly outside didn’t seem to spur any chivalrous instincts in the passersby, so Asta stepped tentatively into the door space, alternating small pushes with a few steps forward.
It took forever. The back glass kept catching her heels, and she couldn’t quite get the door to turn properly. Finally there was enough of an opening for her to squeeze through.
Now the security guard notices me. Sure enough, the man looked up, yawned, and straightened his cap while pointing toward the logbook.
“Forgot my badge.” She smiled and scrawled a name and number in the book.
The man didn’t even ask for ID before he shoved an access card across to her. “Sucks to be you, working this early on a Saturday.”
“Gotta take care of a few things before I fly out.”
“Well, have a good one. Pete takes over at nine. Just leave the key card with him before you head out.”
She nodded her thanks and with a swipe of the card was on her way to the nineteenth floor. Richland Tech’s suite was dimly lit, with nothing at the receptionist desk but wilted flowers and the requisite guest book. Asta stared through the bank of glass doors, doubting the access card she held would get her into this office. Rubeus would probably be tipped off if she broke in, but there wasn’t any other option. The angel glanced around, wishing that Dar was here with his lock-picking skills. Where was the demon? She’d expected he’d meet her here.
Time was in short supply, so she reached forward and gently tugged on the door handle. And nearly fell backwards as it swung open.
Unlocked. She might be a naïve angel, but she wasn’t stupid enough to think a tech firm would leave their doors unlocked on a Saturday. It was a trap. Rubeus knew she was coming and was making things easy for her.
And if he knew she was coming, what had happened to Dar? Her breath caught as she thought of all the horrible things the genie could have done to her demon. Was he dead? Injured somewhere inside this office? Or dumped in the middle of Lake Michigan?
Rushing into a trap wouldn’t do either of them any good, so Asta entered slowly, her senses on high alert as she hid her energy signature as best she could. The office seemed strangely devoid of any presence and silent as the grave. Wouldn’t a tech company have computers humming away even in the off hours? Even the HVAC system was soundless.
As were her heels on the marble floor. Magically soundless. Some spell had muted every noise past the doorway and had equally muted her ability to sense any life-forms. Well, this worked both ways. Rubeus couldn’t hear or sense her either, although... . Asta glanced up at the round half-globes strategically positioned on walls and ceilings throughout the office. Rubeus could probably see her. Curse him. The element of surprise would be completely on his side.
A light flickered on in a rear office. Asta smiled, realizing that was where she was supposed to go—and no doubt where Rubeus lay in wait to jump her. Instead she went the opposite way, down the hallw
ay to the left, past row upon row of cubicles. Looping around a hall at the back edge of the building, she made her way to the lit room from the opposite side. She snuck into the office across from it and knelt in the doorway and waited.
The light went off, and sound came roaring back into the office. Everything seemed five times louder than it should—the humming computers, air from the vents, her beating heart. Something creaked in the conference room. Asta hugged the wall and slowly edged towards the door.
Rubeus was there. She could see him, still in Phelp’s body, crouched behind a conference table, something long and pointy in his hand. If she walked in the door, he’d be on her. Asta didn’t recognize the pointy thing but was pretty sure it was deadly. Slipping off her shoes, she snuck around to the other side of the conference room. The door opened to a small cafeteria area. The tables had been pushed to the side and chairs stacked up. A floor buffer stood in a corner next to the vending machines. Best of all, the wall across from her separated the cafeteria from the conference room. One wall to blast through, and she’d be the one to surprise Rubeus.
The tile was cold under her bare feet as she tiptoed across the room, slamming into an invisible barrier two feet from the wall.
What the? Asta reached out her hands and traced the barricade, realizing as she worked her way around that it encircled her. Hoping no one was working in the office below, she sent a blast toward her feet and yelped as it bounced off, ricocheting around the invisible walls and ceiling before dissipating. A laugh rang out behind her. She turned. Rubeus stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
“Phelps might be a clever boy when it comes to computer stuff, but I’m the fucking brilliant one here.” He flicked off the lights, and the floor glowed with an intricate array of runes and glyphs. “I’ve got the know-how, and human-boy’s got the body to execute, and voila! One trapped angel. How does it feel? A lot more spacious than that fucking bottle, let me tell you.”
Shit—shoot. Shoot, she was stuck in this infernal circle. Rubeus would safely escape, and by the time the new enforcer found her... well, this whole thing was humiliating.
It was more than humiliating. Rubeus reached around the doorway and brought forward the pointy thing. It looked like a lance; three feet long and white, it spiraled to a sharp tip. Her enclosure was only four feet in diameter. He could safely stand on the outside and stab her with the thing. She’d be forced to run around like an idiot while he tried to stick her, healing each time he met his mark. What a degrading experience—a captive being prodded and chased by a demon. Even though pride wasn’t her sin, this was going to sting.
Rubeus swung the pointy thing like a flag. “Amazing the things you can buy off the internet.” With a lightning-fast lunge that would have done an Olympic fencer proud, he jabbed into the circle, piercing her arm before yanking the odd-looking lance safely back.
Ow. More than ow. Pain spiked through Asta’s arm, down beneath the flesh to her spirit-self. What in all of creation was that thing? Suddenly she realized that humiliation wasn’t Rubeus’s intent. He meant to kill her and somehow had a weapon that could do so. Where was Dar? Had Rubeus killed him with the lethal pointy thing? Her heart raced, torn between the hope he was somehow alive to rescue her and the fear he was dead and bleeding in a cubicle somewhere.
The genie laughed. “Hey, get in here and help me kill her. I’ll let you take a few stabs for luring her in.”
Dar stepped through the doorway, his gray eyes impersonal and cold. Asta felt something shrivel inside her. All she could do was stare at the demon she’d trusted, the one she loved, the one who had betrayed her and led her to her death.
“Nah. Not my thing.” Dar waved the lance away. “I like poking angels with other things, if you get my drift.”
Rubeus’s laughter roared out. It seemed so strange coming from Carter Phelps’s body. “Tempting an angel into physical intercourse, and you barely over a thousand years old? I’m all in admiration, my friend, although this angel seems pretty stupid and gullible.”
Dar shrugged, making his way around the perimeter of her barrier while Rubeus followed. “Next time I’ll pick a brighter angel as my victim, one a bit older and more skilled.”
Fury ripped through the pain in Asta’s heart. The genie feinted then lunged again, but she was quicker, knocking the lance aside before it pierced her side. Her arm burned where it touched the skin, leaving a smoldering line of red she couldn’t take the time to heal. Better to keep her attention on staying clear of that lance, and trying to find a way out of this circle.
“With you dead, no one will know how to find me until it’s too late. I’ll hitchhike a ride inside Phelps until the coast is clear. By that time, your angel friends will be too busy doing damage control to track me down.”
He was like a two-bit-dime-store-novel villain, revealing his plans in a boring, pompous soliloquy while she avoided his attempts to run her through. “The archangels will get you. No matter where you go, what you do, they’ll eventually find you and rip your ugly fucking head from your body.”
“Tsk, tsk. Such language for an angel. You really brought this one down, Dar. Nice job.” This time he hit, slicing along her thigh, cutting through pants, skin, and muscle down to her spirit-being. She hopped backward, tensing herself against the pain.
“How did it feel to fuck her? Did she moan? Did she beg you for more?”
Asta jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding the lance.
“Did she get down on her knees and suck you off? Did you come on her face, make her lick you clean?”
She caught her breath, trying to block out his taunts and avoid the stabbing lance. Focusing on the weapon, she almost missed Dar pick up a pair of scissors from beside the coffee machine, flipping them open in his hand like a butterfly knife.
“No, but maybe next time.” He reversed his grip and swung, the movement blindingly fast as he slashed the scissor blade across the genie’s thigh. Rubeus bellowed, clutching his leg with one hand as he dropped to one knee. Dar pivoted, and, with a downward strike, plunged the blade deep into the genie’s chest.
Crimson blood fountained as the pressure from the human’s heart launched its contents across the floor. Rubeus’s scream changed pitch, becoming higher and more faint. His eyes met Asta’s, and she saw the genie recede, leaving Carter behind. Fear bloomed for a second before his eyes lost focus and he slumped into a sea of blood.
He was dead. Carter was dead, and the demon’s song screamed in her ears. Rubeus had seconds to form a replacement body or he would die.
“All yours, babe. You can thank me later.”
Dar winked at her and raced out the door. Time seemed to stand still as his meaning sunk in. Phelps was dead—the caster of the circle. She was free. And beside the human’s body, another was rising, shaking off the shock of his sudden transformation.
Rubeus. The blood spread like a red tide across his scaled legs and clawed feet. His legs trembled, and down he went, flailing as he tried to gain control over his new body.
Asta started toward him then saw Carter’s blue eyes, pupils dilated as they stared unseeing toward the ceiling. Of all her fledgling skills, healing had always been her strongest. But this—this would be more like a resurrection. And would she have time before Rubeus found the muscle coordination to attack?
There was no time for thought, so she acted blindly, dropping to her knees in the sticky carpet and placing her hands over Carter’s chest. Gold light filled the air, and she poured every ounce of healing she had into his body. Arterial puncture, create new blood to fill his veins, start the silent heart. But would it be enough? It had only been seconds, but sometimes that’s all it took for the soul to flee.
The breath left her lungs as white-hot agony pierced them. Looking down, she saw the twisted end of the lance jutting momentarily from between her ribs before it was pulled from her back.
Everything went dark, and all Asta could think about was the pain. Luckily her phys
ical form seemed to have a mind of its own, because she launched herself sideways. Her vision cleared. She jumped to her feet to see Rubeus in his demon form, struggling to yank the lance from where it had embedded in the floor.
If I’m going to die, I’m not going out alone. Steeling herself against the agony shooting down her entire left side, Asta dove at the genie, knocking him to the floor. His claws dug into her shoulders, sharp spurs scraping along her legs as she wrapped her fingers around his neck and squeezed. The demon twisted, bucking until her hands slipped against the scales of his neck. Then, with a powerful kick, he launched her across the room.
Asta hit the vending machine, feeling the glass crack and give against her back. She’d expected Rubeus to come after her and spun to the side in anticipation of his attack. Instead of claws against her flesh, she felt the now-familiar burn of the lance. He’d managed to dislodge it from the floor and was swinging it back and forth in front of himself, driving her backwards toward the corner of the room where she’d be trapped.
The lance came at her in a sweep. Gritting her teeth against the pain she knew was coming, Asta grabbed it with both hands. She staggered with the momentum of the weapon, her hands sizzling against it. There was a moment of confusion in the genie’s eyes right before she kicked out, knocking him back.
His grip on the lance slipped, but he kept hold. Asta was yanked forward, her hands blistered. A tug of war ensured that she was sure she was going to lose. She had to get this thing away from him. It would be hard enough fighting him without it, but this weapon reduced her odds to near zero.
There was an odd whoosh noise, and Asta found herself staring at the point of a sword, inches from her nose. The blade was buried in the genie’s neck, lodged in one of his vertebrae. Her eyes met the demon’s, and she saw her surprise mirrored in them.
“Damn mother-fucking piece of shit. Why are there no decent weapons in a twenty-five story office building?”
