A circular bar sat in the center of the club, with several bartenders manning different points. Here, you could get any drink on Earth—and some that weren’t. Multiple levels of the club housed more tables, and on a raised dais was a beautiful, raven-haired pianist dressed in red, her white-gloved fingers dancing expertly across the keys. Just past the stage was a large opening in the glass wall, leading to a massive open-air patio with more tables and a fountain. Guests gathered, looking out over the city of Chicago.
If you thought The Metropolitan Club was the most exclusive lounge in the Willis Tower, you’d obviously never heard of Eden. Although it technically wasn’t in Willis Tower—that was more like a loading point. Eden wasn’t even really located on Earth. Instead, it existed in a kind of halfway point, crossing the thresholds of different dimensions. There were places like Eden all over the world, called embassies. What form they took depended on the ambassador of that particular embassy.
In this case, Eden took the form of an exclusive nightclub. And that was all because of this ambassador, a man who had just caught sight of me and had started to approach. I removed my sunglasses and placed them inside my jacket, studying him. His platinum-blond hair was perfectly styled, looked almost like molded plastic with how stiff it was. He was so pale, his skin came close to being the same color as his hair and he, of course, wore a white tuxedo. But the strangest thing about him was his eyes, an almost-luminescent light-blue color.
“Luther Cross, so good to see you again.” His smile was plastic as he held out his hand. I almost hesitated to shake it, but then I reminded myself that my job was to butter him up.
“Been a long time, Raziel.” I gripped his hand and gave it a firm shake. He kept the plastic smile without flinching. Didn’t really expect him to, of course. Angels were pretty tough customers.
“Indeed it has.” He moved beside me, placing his hand on my back and gesturing with his other arm towards the bar. “Would you like a drink? Compliments of the host.”
“Any chance we could go somewhere and talk? Few things I’d like to sit down with you about.”
There was a mark of hesitation in his eyes. Heaven wasn’t exactly one of my biggest fans. Oh sure, I’d helped keep the peace down here by taking out my fair share of demons, ghosts, and whatnot. But at the end of the day, I was still half-demon. And most angels were pretty damn racist. Raziel was better than most, but even he looked down his nose at those of us born without a set of feathered wings and a shiny halo.
“Very well, follow me.”
Raziel stepped ahead of me, signaling with his finger for me to follow. I did as he ordered. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for him, but me, I had to push through. Got more than a couple angry looks for that, too. Most of the crowd at Eden consisted of angels and demons, but there were also some other types here—pagan gods, vampires, warlocks. These embassies were considered neutral ground, a place for the supernatural elements to talk out their differences and hopefully avoid bloody wars that claimed innocent souls in the process.
We walked up a spiral staircase made of crystal, and it felt like it extended forever. The sounds of the busy nightclub died down as we continued our ascent before finally coming to an end on a private floor.
We’d come to Raziel’s own personal lounge, with his personal bartender standing at the ready behind the counter. There was no roof here; the entire room was just a circular platform exposed to the open night sky. Not even a railing to prevent someone from falling off.
Of course, when you could fly, you had that luxury.
“Garret, a brandy for myself,” said Raziel. “And as for Mr. Cross…” He paused in his tracks and spun to face me, resting a finger along the side of his chin as he tried to decipher my drink. “Crack open that forty-year-old bottle of Laphroaig. I have a feeling he’d appreciate that.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Raziel,” said Garret, a young, unassuming guy who seemed more than willing to serve.
“This way, Luther.” Raziel walked out to the edge of the platform where two large chairs rested, made of white vinyl and each with a small glass table standing by its side. He took his seat and I took mine.
A few moments later, Garret appeared with a tray holding both drinks on it. He served Raziel the brandy first, gently setting the large glass on the table. Then he delivered my drink. I studied the young man carefully, trying to determine if he was really human or something else. But it was hard to tell—especially when Eden screwed with my senses.
“Now, what brings you to my humble abode?” asked Raziel.
Here came the pitch. A chance to work some of my magic on an angel. Definitely a risky proposition. But had to try. “I got word of something interesting lately. A body, up near the Illinois-Wisconsin border.”
Raziel scoffed. “You and I should really have a chat about what constitutes ‘interesting.’ A dead human certainly wouldn’t qualify.”
“Even if said human’s soul was burned out of his body?”
Raziel hesitated before he sipped his drink. He caught his mistake and tried to play it off as nothing, bringing the glass right up to his lips. But I’d caught it. I took a sniff of the scotch. Damn, stuff even smelled rich. I took a long, deliberate sip, rolling it over my tongue and down my throat.
Goddamn, it was so good, I felt like I was gonna have to change my pants.
My poker face remained intact. Just take one more sip and then put it down. Once setting it on the table, I took the cigarette case and Zippo from my jacket. Raziel swirled the brandy in its large glass, taking an occasional sniff before he sipped. I lit the cigarette. He never took his eyes off me.
“What makes you think this poor man’s soul was burned out of his body?” he finally asked.
With the cigarette clutched between index and middle finger, I pointed to my own eyes. “I think you know the answer to that. Windows to the soul, after all. When a soul is forcefully extracted, the eyes are destroyed. But in this case, the eyes were vaporized. That soul was consumed by something pretty damn powerful.”
A sly smile spread across Raziel’s lips. “While I appreciate your experience in these matters, Luther, I think your examination was a bit too hasty. The only creatures capable of such a feat are angels or archdemons. And they have rules to obey. The treaties in place between Heaven and Hell—”
“I know the deal, Raziel. You can influence, but you’re not active participants.”
“Precisely. So, you can see why you’ve been mistaken. There are soul thieves—perhaps one of them stole this man’s soul.”
“Or what if someone’s breaking the treaty?”
Raziel shook his head, chuckling between sips of brandy. “Impossible. You know what angels are like, Luther. We were created to serve. Yes, we have some degree of free will, but to openly defy the word of the Seraphim… No angel would dare risk the Wrath.”
He had a point there. Angels were pompous, stuck-up dicks, but they were also obedient to a fault. The Seraphim basically ran the show in Heaven. If the Seraphim ordered the entire planet to be deep-fried, the only question an angel would ask was, original recipe or extra-crispy?
But demons were a different story. The most powerful of the demons were fallen angels themselves. And though the Seraphim hoped that obedient aspect of their angelic aspect would remain, it wasn’t unheard of for an archdemon to go off the reservation. Especially given how slippery they were when it came to contracts.
Where do you think lawyers learned it from?
“Could be a demon,” I offered.
“I doubt it. We would know if an archdemon was wreaking havoc on Earth. Remember that Asmodeus is a frequent guest here at Eden.”
“Maybe an archdemon isn’t acting directly. Maybe it just…left something behind. In a human woman, no less.”
Raziel narrowed his bright, blue eyes at me. I could tell he was skeptical, but I also knew his curiosity had been tickled. “You think an archdemon has produced a cambion?”
“My f—the
thing that created me, it was a normal demon. We know that. But if an archdemon produced a cambion with a human woman, and if that cambion felt threatened enough, it could presumably muster enough power to vaporize a soul.”
Raziel sighed and rose from the chair, walking towards the edge of the platform. I stood and walked after him, drink in one hand and my cigarette at the other. Sidling up beside him, I alternated between sips of scotch and draws on the cigarette. Raziel remained still as a statue, one hand inside his pocket, the other holding the brandy. He stared out over the city of Chicago.
“You’re hiding something, Cross.”
I drew on the cigarette and exhaled the smoke into the night air. Despite being so high up, I barely felt a chill. One of the wonderful little side-effects of being between dimensions. “There’s a girl involved. She’s under my protection.”
“And you believe she’s carrying a cambion?” asked Raziel.
“I do.” I turned to him, cutting him off before he could even make his next statement. “But we’re not going there.”
Raziel scoffed. “You know the treaty, Luther. The creation of a nephilim or cambion—particularly when an archangel or archdemon is involved—is strictly prohibited.”
“The girl isn’t going to be harmed. Besides, right now, we need her.”
The angel blinked. “And how do you figure?”
“Because she’s not the only one,” I said. “She was kidnapped, along with a few other girls. Someone out there is playing cupid between an archdemon and humans. I don’t have to tell you how dangerous a prospect that is.”
In all the time I’d known him, I could honestly say I’d never seen Raziel shocked. Now I had. And to be honest, the look was pretty disturbing. He looked completely rattled and that only made my peach-fuzz stand on end.
“You know where to find the man responsible?” asked Raziel.
Now I could take control of the situation. I had Raziel right where I wanted him. “You know, a job like this, it’s pretty dangerous. And being an angel—an ambassador, no less—you can’t get yourself mixed up directly in this. But we both know I’m available for hire, and my skills and contacts can be of great use to you.”
Raziel scoffed. “We’re talking about a potential threat to humanity as we know it, and you seek to profit.”
“Think of it this way, Raz—if I fail, you won’t owe me a damn thing.”
“You never change, Luther.” Raziel gave a sigh. “Very well. We need to get to the bottom of this. So, if you’re willing to take the job, I will hire you to find who is producing cambions and destroy them.”
“And the girl?”
Raziel hesitated, turning away from me while sipping his brandy. My gaze followed him.
“Raziel. The girl?”
“Let’s put a pin in that for now,” he said. “If she proves useful, then we’ll revisit the situation.”
10
The last of the scotch flowed down my throat. Setting the glass on the bar counter, I also stamped out the cigarette. Raziel had refreshed his brandy and wouldn’t look at me. The idea of turning to a half-breed like me for help really did a number on his pride. Part of me felt a little bad for the winged jackass.
But I got over it.
“I’ll keep in touch,” I told him. “With any luck, we’ll wrap this up quickly.”
Raziel grunted in response and I took my leave, letting him stew alone in his little nest. Descending the spiral staircase back into Eden, it seemed nothing had changed. People were still doing their thing, enjoying the atmosphere, drinks, and food. A few curious glances were tossed my way—people were no doubt wondering just why this handsome devil with impeccable fashion sense was good enough to earn a private audience with the ambassador.
I met some of their glances and had to suppress a laugh at how fast they turned away. Now, the next thing to figure out was where these other girls were and what this Minister was up to. Either he was working with an archdemon or he was one himself. My job was to figure out which, and adjust my plan accordingly.
Stepping onto the main floor, I walked through the crowd, casting glances around the club. In my head, I compiled a to-do list. The Empress card dominated my thoughts. That card no doubt referred to Tessa, a powerful witch I’d done business with in the past. She’d prove useful in figuring out just what I was dealing with.
But there were some other things to consider. Like, just which demon was I dealing with? I was starting to wish I’d taken Slim up on his offer to spare his life in exchange for information. He was low-level, but he could’ve heard some rumblings. Nothing could be done about that now, though. That’s what I got for acting rash.
Looking around the club, I didn’t see anyone of note. Raziel mentioned that Asmodeus was a frequent guest at Eden, but I didn’t see any trace of him. Besides, he and I had a mutual dislike of each other. He’d proven useful in the past, though. I made a note to possibly pay him a visit.
The other option was to go home and let Dakota know what I’d learned so far. First thing tomorrow, I could drive back out to the area and go from there. She also mentioned that other girl who’d died when the Minister tried to impregnate her—Darlene. Finding her body might also tell us something about the demon behind this.
No matter what I chose to do first, Eden wasn’t going to be any more use tonight. I moved through the crowd and walked towards the elevator. No one else was waiting, so I pushed the button and waited, then stepped inside once the doors opened.
The doors closed and the elevator descended. I waited patiently for it to reach the ground floor and stepped into the lobby, exiting Willis Tower and beginning the walk back to the parking garage across the street.
As I crossed at the light, I got the sense I was being watched, could feel the presence of something otherworldly following me. Fine, if they wanted to play it that way, I was game.
I entered the garage and rather than take the elevator up to the roof, I decided to climb the five stories by stairs. When I turned to walk over to the stairwell entrance, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. There were a few people walking about. But one of them caught my eye in particular—a guy in a sweatshirt with a hood pulled over his head, looking at the ground.
The stairwell was empty, as expected. I’d gotten to the landing between the second and third floors when I heard the sound of the door open back on the first. Yup, definitely trying to follow me. Now I was curious—was this Raziel keeping tabs on me? Or maybe the Minister or whoever was his boss learned Dakota had come to me.
I exited at the roof and crossed the parking lot. There were a few cars scattered around here, but not many. Most chose to get as close to the ground level as possible. My movements were slow as I walked across the asphalt, waiting for my pursuer to make himself known. I had the drop on him now, he wouldn’t know what—
Dammit.
My plan fell apart as soon as I came close enough to my car to see someone sitting in the driver’s seat. A woman with long, black hair. She looked at me through the rolled-down window and gave a seductive smile. Her eyes were bright yellow.
“Hi there, Luther. I was hoping we could have a chat.”
Footsteps from behind. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the guy in the hoodie approaching. He lowered the hood and I could see his eyes matched the woman’s. Two demons, eh? I kept calm and leaned against the trunk of my car, placing a fresh cigarette between my lips and lighting it.
“Y’know, I’ve got a rule about strange women entering my car,” I said, exhaling smoke as I spoke. “So why don’t you tell me your name, sweetheart?”
“My real name’s not important, lover,” she said as she kicked the door closed. She pushed her back against the driver-side door and stretched, her body molding against the car. And it was a nice body, had to give her that. Tight jeans, and beneath her black leather jacket, a red shirt that perfectly accentuated her assets. “But you can call me Kayla.”
“Kayla it is.” I locked eyes with h
er buddy. He was tall, about as tall as me. Looked pretty well-built, too, with his blond hair trimmed short. Probably could’ve passed for a Marine. “And what’s your name?”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at me with his arms folded. Kayla moved closer to me, a manicured red nail grazing my arm. “That’s Alex. He doesn’t talk much.”
“So I see.” I drew on the cigarette, glancing down at Kayla. “What can I help you two with? Wasn’t expecting any demons to come by tonight.”
“We heard about what you did to our friend, Slim,” she said, then clicked her tongue. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“Slim had it coming.”
“And now you turn up at Eden? What’s that about?” asked Kayla. “What’s a half-breed like you doing associating with angels?”
She said the last word with such disgust in her voice. It almost amused me. Demons despised angels and humans, even though every single demon was once one or the other. I just shrugged in response to her question.
“I like the view.”
“Mmm, I know what you mean.”
She slid along the car, moving closer to me, her fingers dancing up my arm. My head turned to meet her gaze as I smoked. Those yellow eyes burned bright. I blew the smoke into her face. She didn’t flinch.
“Not very nice, lover.”
“Sorry, I’m spoken for,” I said, then nodded in the direction of Alex. “Besides, why do you need me when you’ve got a big, strapping guy right here?”
“Oh, him?” Kayla tossed him a quick look, then turned back, like she couldn’t care less about him. “He’s my brother.”
“So that’s where demons draw the line, huh?” I reached into my pocket, feeling for my keys. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve really got places to be.”
“You sure about that?” She pushed herself up closer to me, brushing her body against mine. With the cigarette between my lips, I grabbed her by both shoulders and gently pushed her back.
“Yeah, pretty sure.” I dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath my shoe, then reached for the car door handle. “You better not have messed around with anything in here. I got this car set up just the way I like it.”
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