by Debra Dunbar
“No. I can help find them. I know their energy signatures.”
She knew. She knew that this was most likely body retrieval.
“Okay. Take your time. We’ll rest if you need.”
Beatrix lifted her chin, set her jaw, and marched forward. I admired her resolve. We’d developed a strange sort of friendship over the last few years, mainly bitching about management, discussing which lunch specials in the food court were the best bang for the buck, and drooling over expensive shoes at Nordstroms. In spite of that, I hadn’t ever known her name. I knew so little about the angel, beyond her love of sweet-and-sour sauce. How many friendships are like that, skimming the surface, satisfied to never look too deep into another’s joy and pain?
I reached out and grabbed her hand, helping her over a two-feet-deep pile of scented moisturizer. “Do you ever get out of this mall? Ever?”
“No. Never. I guard the gate twenty-four/seven. When my century is up, I’ll return to Aaru.”
It was like a prison sentence—one where the inmate could clearly see all the pleasures of the world just outside the barbed-wire fence. My heart hurt for her.
“At first, it was amazing—the challenge of guarding the gate, the novelty of the humans and their quirky lives. I loved it, but there’s only so much food-court food an angel can eat before going a bit crazy.”
She gripped my hand tight, leading me past the Hallmark store, cards like confetti all over the floor. “I know every piece of merchandise in this mall. That’s why I call you when the fall line-up comes in and there’s a shoe I know you’ll love. I’ve been here since before the mall was built. I can tell you’re feeling bad for me, but it could be worse. Now I’m guardian over a gate in a pile of rubble. I’ll walk around all day in the ruins of what used to be a lively area for humans to shop and congregate. I’ll watch bulldozers, if I’m lucky. Twenty more years. I hope they rebuild. I hope it only takes them a few years. Funny how three-million years goes by in a blink of an eye, but a century crawls like a spider caught in molasses.”
I let her ramble, holding her hand tight and envisioning the desolation of her assignment. Trapped in a mall for decades and having that be the most interesting part of her century here. We demons vacationed among the humans when we wanted a break from Hel. Beatrix needed a vacation too. As did the other angels. They all needed to realize how amazing the human world was, how, in spite of their obvious issues, the humans lived lives full of promise. How terrible would it be for her to return to Aaru and not know the good that happened down here as well as the bad?
“Here. Turn left.”
Sunglass Hut. The floor was littered with broken glass from the display cases, twisted, shattered, and melted designer shades. And feathers. It looked like a pillow factory had detonated inside the store.
“Beatrix, you should stay here—”
“No. I know they’re dead. I felt their loss, the passing of their spirit-selves. I just need to confirm it, let my eyes see what my heart knows.”
I held her arm to steady her as we picked our way past the sea of feathers, glass and plastic crunching beneath our feet. The bodies were toward the back of the store, one seemingly glued to the ceiling, the other quartered, his sections stacked neatly against a wall.
The gate guardian swallowed hard a few times, nodded, then turned her back on the bodies. I wasn’t sure what to do. Any kind of physical comfort from me would seem hollow and hypocritical.
“What happened?”
She shuddered. “The demon came through the gate. I felt his power and knew I was outclassed, so I called for an enforcer. The Ancient Revered One sent two to assist.”
“Why didn’t he come himself?” It had been puzzling me. Gregory with his big-ass sword was the one who usually came to take care of the high-level demons.
“This demon wasn’t an ancient. His power was high, but he didn’t read anywhere near the level he actually was in terms of ability. One enforcer should have been sufficient. Two should have easily been able to take him down. And instead... .”
I waited while she regained her composure.
“In these instances, I stay to watch the gate because sometimes another demon comes through. The enforcers... I heard silence, I felt the souls of my brothers leave, and when I saw the demon, I knew. What I’d felt had been confirmed.”
“He came back for you?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t he kill you?” It sounded harsh, but I couldn’t understand why he would come back for her and not kill her.
She paled and clutched her hands together. “Because he wanted me to pass along a message.”
I would have thought two dead enforcers were enough of a message. “To me?”
“No, to the angelic host.” Her eyes focused on the bloody feathers scattered across the floor. “He said to tell them ‘It’s mine. It’s all mine’.”
Chapter 23
I was speeding down I-70 in a stolen Mazda. Beatrix rode shotgun, and what seemed like half the surviving products of Columbia Mall were in the backseat and trunk. All that junk in the trunk was the reason for my grand theft auto. Normally we could have teleported ourselves to my house, but Beatrix refused to leave without her ‘stuff’—way more stuff than the pair of us could hold while transporting ourselves. The only benefit in waiting for her to gather all her stuff together was that I’d had time to pick through the ruins of the mall and find myself some clothing.
Not only was this journey taking us an extra half hour to get home, but I’d need to dump the stolen car later too. My new, angelic, method of transportation was far more convenient than the old human-vehicle one. Even if I didn’t always get where I wanted the first time, teleportation still saved time.
Beatrix sat beside me like she’d been turned to stone. I knew her wings still hurt, but probably not as badly as her heart.
“Do you have a cell phone?” I never took mine into Hel anymore. Either the insides fried during the trip, or I exploded it by accident when I changed form.
The gate guardian turned her head, her eyes dull. “Sure.” She passed it over, and I dialed.
“Bea?” Nyalla’s cheerful tone didn’t quite hide her concern.
“No, it’s Sam using her phone. I’m bringing her to the house. Can you order some food? Sweet-and-sour pork, extra sauce.”
I took the exit, figuring we’d probably get there before the delivery guy. I didn’t want to stop for carryout though. Beatrix was so... . numb. I wanted her in a comfortable, friendly environment, not a war-zone of a mall where two of her angel coworkers had just been brutally murdered and she tortured.
“Sure.” Nyalla paused. “Gregory’s here. He’s waiting for you.”
I clenched my jaw and tried not to let Beatrix see how angry I was. Now. He was there now, but he hadn’t been available when his gate guardian needed him. “I’m almost there.”
I stomped on the gas and handed Beatrix her phone so I could keep both hands on the wheel. I’d come into that mall and heard his gate guardian, my friend, crying out for help. I freed her mangled wings. I helped her load twenty fucking tons of clothing, purses, and shoes into this stolen car. Me. Where was her boss? Where was the angel who was supposed to come help her when she needed it?
I spun the car into the driveway and got out, trying to calm myself and walk slowly with Beatrix into my house. Nyalla greeted us at the door and enveloped the gate guardian in a tight hug. Pushing past her, I felt my simmering anger flare as I headed toward Gregory.
“Where were you? Where the fuck were you?”
He didn’t answer, didn’t even look at me as he walked past. I felt ready to combust with fury. “Get your ass back here and talk to me!”
I was talking to blank space. Or maybe Nyalla, who was hugging nothing but air.
Bastard. I was tempted to chase him down and yell at him further, but Nyalla’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“Don’t. He’s known her a long time. Beatrix and the angels that
died were all his responsibility, and he feels bad enough. Let him talk to her in private, angel to angel. He’ll be back, and you can yell at him then.”
She was pretty wise for a young girl, even one with the gift of reading the emotions and intentions of others. So instead of racing off after Gregory, I paced. The Chinese food arrived, and I stared at it, feeling sad just looking at the containers of sweet-and-sour sauce. I’d driven to the mall so many times to meet Beatrix for lunch, do a little shopping and a whole lot of gossiping. I know she’d probably be happy to go back to Aaru, but I’d miss her. I hoped she’d miss me too.
I was halfway through a container of pork lo mein when Gregory returned. My rage had boiled down to a low simmer of bitterness and hurt mixed with anger.
“Where were you? What exactly was so important that you sent two of your angels to their death and almost got your gate guardian killed?”
I know my words hurt, but I couldn’t help myself. I was angry at Gregory, angry at myself for not being able to stop Avarnak back in Hel, angry at Gareth and that stupid elf for creating that damned gem. My hand reached up to touch the pouch under my shirt, wondering what would happen if I smashed it into a million pieces.
“I was dealing with a dragon. I felt that was more of a priority than a mid-level greed demon. If I had known how powerful he’d become, I might have let the dragon burn Prague to the ground and answered her summons myself.”
I winced at the sarcasm. A dragon? No wonder he’d sent two other angels to handle Avarnak. I would have done the same.
Gregory paced as I’d done earlier, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he saw the containers of sweet-and-sour sauce. He was just as upset and pissed off as I was. Neither one of us was really angry at the other, but with everything going on, we needed an outlet, and both of us knew the other could take it. But right now, I felt we needed each other’s support more than acting as a punching bag.
“Dragon, huh?” I swallowed the anger and extended the olive branch. “What happened? How did you manage to find the gate to close it without me?”
The angel sat and pulled a container of Hunan bean curd towards him. “It took us millennia to get rid of the dragons before. We finally found and killed the last one three-thousand years ago. They’re worse than gargoyles when they get a territory—greedy, possessive, and they’ll eat anything. I managed to kill the one in Prague, but I’ve no idea how many came through the gate before we closed it.” He glanced at me. “Terrelle is good. She helped me close the gate in your absence. I think Sauriel may be in love.”
Damn. So much for planning a potential romance between Terrelle and Gabe. I was glad to hear an angel actually praise a demon for once. Hopefully Sauriel would spread the word in Aaru that we were awesome in spite of our psychotic tendencies.
“How do we find the other dragons? Assuming there are other dragons.”
The angel shrugged. “We wait. The only reason we caught this one is he staked a claim right next to the gate and immediately began ridding his new territory of humans. If they hole up in a remote area, it might be a few thousand years until we know we’re there.”
“So burning down towns, killing humans, and hoarding treasure?” I’d never met a real dragon before, even though my first demon form was based on a three-headed one.
“Not all of them spew fire, and they have different preferences as far as ideal territories. Beyond that, yes, killing humans or other beings they see as a rival predator, and hoarding.”
I nodded. “We need to talk about Avarnak, the demon who killed your two Grigori. Did Beatrix tell you his message?”
“’It’s all mine’? Yes, I heard. Sounded eerily like that dragon I just killed.”
“I don’t know what the gem’s spell did to him, but he’s definitely not mid level any more, and his greed seems to have morphed beyond any demon’s reasonable expectations.”
“So how do we find him? Is there a specific area of this world he is going to want to lay claim to first?”
Damned if I knew. I had no idea what ‘it’s all mine’ meant. Did he want to just come and go unhindered from Hel? It’s not like he could really stick an entire planet in his pocket. What did ownership mean to a greed demon? A war demon, I’d understand. But greed? What did he want? Gold? Gems? An island in the Caribbean?
“I need Terrelle. I know you want her to stay with Sauriel and help with the gates, but she might know this demon and be able to give us some indication of where he might be.”
Gregory leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ll bring her back.”
Good. Now there was something else I wanted to address. “I want Beatrix to stay here for a while. I don’t think she should go back to guarding the gate.”
Anger flared in the angel’s eyes. His fist curled around the food container, crushing it. “She needs to finish her duties here then return to Aaru. She’s an angel. She’s strong enough to bounce back.”
“She was pinned to the ground—pinned by her wings. The two enforcers were ripped to bits pretty much in front of her, and the demon left her trapped in an empty demolition-site of a mall. She’s a wreck. At the very least, she needs a break. You can’t put her back there after what she’s gone through.”
“Do you want everyone to see her as a weakling? As a guardian angel, she has a hard enough time getting the others to respect her. Relieving her of her duties won’t do her any favors.”
“And she won’t give a shit about others’ opinion of her if she’s broken beyond repair. Give her a few years off, then assign her a different gate, or find something else for her to do. At the very least, don’t send her back there until she’s ready.”
Gregory sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay. I will find a temporary replacement for her for now, and re-evaluate things in a few months.”
“Will you send her back to Aaru?”
“If she wants, although it might be better for her to stay here. We can say she is on special assignment, so she can save face.”
That pretty much took care of that prickly topics. “So... are we good?”
He smiled. Finally. “Right. Harpies, brownies, and one, or possibly ten dragons. More gateways than we have angel and demon pairs to close. And now two dead angels at the hands of a supposedly mid-level greed demon. We’ve got a way to go before we’re good.”
We were most definitely good, no matter what the universe threw at us.
“I don’t know exactly how powerful Avarnak is anymore. I guess pretty powerful if he shredded two angels and killed an ancient demon.”
“He killed an ancient?” Gregory frowned.
“I’m not sure how much the element of surprise played into that,” I admitted. “It would be like a Low showing up at my house and bitching me out. I doubt I’d take the threat seriously until my head was rolling across the ground.”
“Hmm.” Gregory focused on the takeout containers as if they held the answers to the universe. “Still, I’d expect an ancient to be able to know there was something off before his head and body parted ways.”
I snorted. “Don’t worry. You can take him down; it’s just a question of how much damage is he going to do before we catch up with him.”
The angel reached over and yanked a lock of my hair. “I do worry. I worry about you trying to take him down before I can get there to save your rear end.”
“Uh, no. I’m totally yielding the floor on this one.” I told Gregory about being caged and skewered by obsidian.
“Ah, dragonglass. Wish I’d had some of that handy a few hours ago.”
“Well, it was pretty effective on me. I can imagine it would work just as well on a non-demon dragon.”
“So Avarnak killed an ancient? Which one?”
“Pamersiel.”
Gregory shrugged. “He wasn’t much three-million years ago; I doubt he’s increased his power levels to any significant degree after being banished to Hel. Honestly I’m surprised to hear he was still alive.”
Phew, that was a relief. Knowing Avarnak had killed a ‘lesser’ ancient was reassuring.
The angel tapped his chopsticks on the edge of the container. “How many ancients are there in Hel? You said there weren’t too many of them left.”
“Maybe a dozen or so, but those are the active ones. There are probably a few hundred inactive.” I saw Gregory’s puzzled expression and went on to explain. “They sleep or go into some kind of trance or something. The ones that are over a billion years old don’t do a lot. They’re old, you know. Old spirit beings do that—take lots of naps, drink prune juice to stay regular, sit on the porch and yell at kids to get off their lawn.”
Gregory raised an eyebrow.
“Present company excluded, of course,” I added hastily. “The active ancients don’t run around as much as we young ones do; even they tend to sit around and brood a lot. The inactive ones pretty much do that all the time. I wouldn’t want to wake one up, though. The ones who sleep... well, they’d kick my ass without raising a finger.”
I thought of Ahriman and how powerful he’d been. The sleeping ancient ones were like Gregory. Maybe not as old, but old enough to lay down some serious hurt.
He nodded. “Like you said, the big issue will be catching up to him before he does whatever demonic evil he is planning. I’ll go fetch Terrelle for you, and hopefully we can run him down in less than twenty-four hours.”
