Luck of the Devil

by Patricia Eimer

  “You’re one of the Angale?” I was stunned. No one had ever publicly acknowledged the existence of the Angale. Not outside the scary stories told to keep young demons in line. I had always thought they were nothing more than a fairy tale.

  “Not by choice.” He shifted again.

  “So are you a… ” I struggled to think of the best way to phrase what I was about to ask.

  “I’m a purebred.” Matt’s intense gaze held mine and didn’t let go as the waitress returned with our beers and sandwiches.

  “So your father is an angel?” Beer. Beer would be a good idea. I lifted my glass and took a healthy gulp as I digested this morsel of news.

  “Bassano.”

  I choked on my beer, dissolving into a major coughing fit. When I recovered, I wiped my mouth with my napkin and tried not to gape too much. “As in, Bassano the cherub?”

  “Couldn’t you tell? I mean, the charm, the looks… ” He wiggled his brows and bit into his sandwich.

  Squinting at him, I tried to picture it. “You’re quite a bit taller than your father.”

  “And I can’t understand how your dread demon is supposed to be useful at only three feet tall.”

  “Malachi is travel-sized for convenience. Or so he claims.” I was just as baffled about Malachi’s size, but I’d never gotten a straight answer out of him about why he’d chosen to manifest himself in such a compact shape.

  “Really? Huh. Dad is just short.”

  “Okay, moving on, you’re a nephilim who has moved in next door to the Devil’s youngest daughter. What are you planning? Please don’t tell me this is a bid to try to control my powers. I’ll be really disappointed if it’s something that obvious. Besides, I’ve got enough hassle in my life right now. I don’t need to squash you like a bug for trying to steal my powers.”

  He looked at me like I’d just wandered off the crazy train. “I don’t like my powers. Why would I want yours?”

  “You’re not trying to Fall, are you? It’s complicated, but trust me when I say that Falling is not in your best interest right now. Dad’s a bit touchy this week, and you don’t want to bring up something that sensitive unless he’s in a real good mood.”

  “I’m not trying to Fall, either. I’ve always been confused about anyone actually choosing to Fall. In either direction.”

  “So, what then?”

  “I wanted to control my own life. Be my own man and not just another faceless soldier.”

  “And you moved in next door to me?”

  “If you were a nephilim who didn’t want to be found, where would you hide?”

  “Not next to another paranormal being,” I said. “That’s asking to be found.”

  “Wrong. Hiding next door to you is the perfect solution.”

  “How so?”

  “Because, anyone looking for me thinks the same way you do. What nephilim moves in next door to Satan’s youngest daughter? Everyone knows you live in the building so ‘sensing paranormal activity’ is expected. I can slip by unnoticed because your powers are so much stronger than mine.”

  I let the flattery about my powers slide. On a demonic scale of one to ten, with ten being Dad and one being a mortal, I was only about a four. “Okay, but I still don’t understand why.”

  He studied his beer for several moments before he returned his attention to me, his eyes grim. “Have you met my family?”

  “Until a few minutes ago, I didn’t really believe they existed.”

  “Oh, trust me, they exist, and they’ll crush you underneath the weight of their Divine Purpose if you give them half a chance. Just like they wanted to crush me and every other nephilim child they got their hands on.”

  “Their Divine Purpose?” I asked.

  “Building an army to overthrow your father and forcing God to allow them absolute dominion over the Earthly realm.”

  “Damn, that’s one heck of a purpose. What’s your part in all of this?” I bit into my sandwich and chased it with my beer.

  “Foot soldier, blindly following orders and acting as stud on request.”

  “Excuse me?” I stuttered, choking on my beer.

  “That was the last straw. I mean, first off, I’ve never really had a problem with your father or your kind.”

  “Well gee, as your landlord, it’s good to know you don’t intend to declare war on me from across the hall. I’m sure the cleanup necessary after I kicked your ass would have taken up your security deposit.”

  “Glad we cleared that up. Anyway, my biggest problem was the arranged-breeding bit. Not to sound like a girl or anything.”

  “Oh, Heaven forbid that should happen.”

  “Not to sound like the more rational and clearheaded gender,” Matt said, drinking from his beer, “but the idea of being paired up with someone because our genes would provide the optimum chances for desirable characteristics in a child was a little off-putting.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I want to control my own life. And breed—or not breed—with whomever I want. So, instead of sticking around for my own wedding, I struck out on my own. I was in my last semester of law school, and it didn’t take much legwork on my part to find out where you lived.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Never underestimate the power of a nephilim with Google. Like I said, it didn’t take much to find out where you lived, and it was a simple enough matter to find a job in Pittsburgh. Then, all I had to do was make an apartment in your building open up.”

  “And you did that how?”

  “I may have persuaded a few people to, you know, give your neighbor the drama student her first big break.”

  “You got Bianca on that soap opera? Really?”

  “Really,” he said. “How does she like it, by the way? I’ve heard rumors they’re in talks to make her a series regular.”

  “I haven’t heard. So you got her on television so you could what? Move in next door to me?”

  “That about covers it.”

  “Now what? I mean, surely you had some sort of plan before you moved in?”

  “Not really. Now I’m just going to lay low, not attract attention, and sort of wing it, I guess.”

  I groaned. “Wing it?”

  “Look, all I really wanted to do when I moved in was live my life quietly, not bothering anyone, and asking the same in return. I chose you because you seemed like the best camouflage.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Don’t be like that. Once I met you, I had the hardest time keeping this a secret from you. So I revised my plan and decided to be honest. All I can hope is that it won’t get me deep fried in a lake of fire for my troubles.”

  “We don’t use the lake of fire to cook things anymore. We have kitchens. Why didn’t you just tell me what you were doing? I would have helped. If anyone understands what you’re trying to do, it’s me.”

  “When would have been a good time? The night your brother pushed me down the stairs?”

  “I knew it. He’s such an asshole. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You think I wanted to tell you what I was with a heavy box of books immobilizing me? Everyone said you were Satan’s nice daughter but, for all I knew, that could have been a relative statement. Being nice in comparison to Hope would have meant you killed me quickly instead of in some sort of humiliating and painful display.”

  “But Hope enthralled you.”

  “And you tried. ‘You spent all night working and you’re just exhausted, Matt.’ I didn’t know which one of you was worse—her bossing me around, or you trying to manipulate me with a demonic version of the Jedi Mind Trick.”

  I narrowed my eyes, pressing my lips together. “You were faking it.”

  “Um, yeah?” Matt looked at me as if I’d just told him two plus two equaled four. “And?”

  “I’m just trying to understand what this means.”

  “Okay, I don’t want to play stud to some nutty second-generation nephilim, so I decided to h
ide out with you. Because I didn’t know if you were going to kill me, I decided to feel you out before making any big announcements. I know how to fake a spark when I’m shielded, so I made sure every time you were around I kept my true nature hidden and you thought I was a mortal. You were happy. I was happy. I thought it was a good way to keep things going.”

  “You’re right across the hall from my entire family. What are you going to do now? You’ve got your family’s sworn enemy within striking distance.”

  “Telling my family where you are would just bring them down on me. And I care more about my own hide than I do about their war with him.”

  “Him?”

  “You know,” Matt said, and squirmed in his seat, “your father.”

  “You mean the Devil?” I had to tease him. Mentioning my father made nephilim nervous, and most of them couldn’t say his name without stumbling over it.

  Ironically, it isn’t an issue for demonic nephilim. We can say Satan and God in the same sentence without flinching. We can even pray if we really wanted to. But what’s the point? There’s no need for faith if you know beyond a doubt what exists and what doesn’t.

  “Are you afraid of him?” I asked, intrigued by the idea of another immortal being afraid of my father.

  “Shouldn’t I be?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, because he’s the Devil?”

  I frowned. “But I’m not afraid of God.”

  “But—wait. Huh? You’re not afraid of God?”

  “No, He’s really a nice guy. You should know that, though,” I said. Actually, I’d never heard of the Alpha officially recognizing the offspring of angels and mortals. “You’ve never met Him, have you?”

  “He doesn’t interact with us like your father interacts with the Children of Darkness.”

  Wow, talk about awkward. Time to change the subject, and now. “All right. First rule: if you don’t want me to dump my beer on your head, we don’t really like the whole Children of Darkness thing. We’re nephilim, just like you, but with cooler superpowers.”

  “I should call you nephilim?”

  “No you should call me Faith. We’re not fond of the ‘N’ word, either.”

  “How do you refer to yourselves as a group?” he asked.

  “We’re not a baseball team. We’re a group of immortal beings trying to live our lives. If we have to refer to ourselves in plural, then it’s just ‘us.’ Got it?”

  “Yeah.” He took a drink of his beer and shook his head. “So anything else I’ve been taught all my life that’s completely wrong?”

  “My dad doesn’t actually own stock in Fox News?”

  “Really?”

  “A certain network personality may hear voices, though. It’s just not God.”

  “You’ve got demons feeding false information to cable news broadcasters?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Archnian has a rather juvenile sense of humor.”

  His head fell backward as he laughed. “Oh shit, that’s priceless.”

  “We thought so.”

  “So what else don’t I know about what goes on behind enemy lines?”

  “We’ve got a second lake full of melted Valhrona chocolate?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, Dad’s a bit of a connoisseur. Oh, and like I said before, we’ve got cooler superpowers.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like this,” I said, and concentrated on being somewhere besides Flannigan’s patio.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Holy shit!” Matt lurched for the nearest trashcan while reality stitched itself up behind us with a quiet pop. He gagged on the lingering odor of burnt fragments of time and his fingers clutched the rim as he bent forward and heaved his lunch. Poor guy.

  Nearby, a street vendor who sold pastries and drinks was packing up for the night, so I ran to him, snagged a bottle of cold water, and wiggled my fingers so he didn’t notice I was walking away with his merchandise.

  “Here.” I handed Matt the bottle of water and watched him put it against his forehead, still gasping, before standing up and draining it. “Better?”

  He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, nodding. “Warn me before we do that again, okay?”

  “Sorry, I forgot it’s a bit disorienting the first time or two.”

  “Disorienting doesn’t begin to describe it,” he said, and threw the bottle into the trashcan. “So where are we?”

  “Take a look around and you tell me.” Unable to stop myself from smiling like an idiot, I watched him study the park full of people. He took his time, absorbing every detail. The moment he spotted the landmark above him, I stifled a giggle at his obvious shock.

  “We’re in Paris?”

  I tried to appear disinterested. Which would last all of a second. “Well, it’s not Las Vegas. Much too green for one thing. More French people, too.”

  He lowered his head, fixing me with a mystified stare. “You just transported us to Paris?”

  I clasped my hands against my chest, desperate to not make myself look like an ass. “Yep.”

  He gestured to the massive structure behind him. “And this is the Eiffel Tower?”

  “Once again, that would be a yes.”

  “Your side definitely wins,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling.

  “Are you saying you can’t fade in and out of major European cities on a whim?”

  “No.” He took my hand and pulled me in front of him so we could stare up at the Eiffel Tower. I’d been aiming for the top of the tower itself but this was probably better. There was less chance of making a spectacle out of ourselves down here than up there. His arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me against his chest. I tried my best to act cool and not snuggle up against him like a cat.

  “So, wanna wander around Paris? Maybe get something to eat? Wait, I’ve got a better idea.” I decided to go for it. “Would you prefer to check out the view?”

  I focused on making us not only phase, but also disappear. After all, we might have gone unnoticed in the self-absorbed crowd of tourists underneath the tower, although up top, things weren’t so hectic and people would notice.

  We reappeared at the top of the tower. Matt’s face turned white, with a slight tinge of green. The tiny tear we’d created in the barbed wire surrounding the top of the tower closed with a quick snap, and I was glad no one had accidentally followed. That would have been awkward.

  “Can you,” he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath through his nose, “warn me before you do that again? Please?”

  “If it helps, most demons don’t even notice after the second or third time.”

  “Good to know.” Matt pulled me toward the protective fencing and the two of us took in the scenery. “This is really amazing.”

  I nudged his shoulder. “Want to learn how to do it?”

  “Really? This is something I can learn without tapping into your powers?”

  “Not at first. But once you’re comfortable doing it on your own, you can fly solo. Sort of like a kid learning to ride a bike.”

  “You’re comparing teleporting two people from Pittsburgh to Paris in the blink of an eye to riding a bike?”

  “It’s relative,” I said. “But the process is like riding a bike. You know how kids use training wheels or their parents to hold the bike when they’re first learning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s what you’d have to do. At first, you’d have to use my powers to balance you. Then, when you figure out the process on your own, you tap your own powers and do it without me.”

  A wicked glint glimmered in his eyes. “And I’ll be able to freak people out and transport them to Paris?”

  “Maybe. It’ll depend on your level of power. The more power you have, the further you can fade without it draining you. But if you reach too far, it can be disastrous.”

  “What happens?”

  “I’ve only done it once, when I was younger, and it went really screwy. I
ended up in Cheboygan instead of Los Angeles.”

  “Cheboygan?” He laughed. “What did you do?”

  “Luckily, Tolliver was with us. He already knew how to phase to where certain people were, and not just locations. So he came back and transported me to where Hope waited. It drained me for the rest of the day, though, and I had absolutely no power. It was almost like I’d blown a fuse.”

  “That sucks.”

  “It could have been worse. I’ve heard of nephilim reaching too far and getting lost.”

  “Lost?”

  “Completely gone,” I said.

  “You mean they just disintegrate? They disappear in one spot and don’t reappear anywhere else?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What about Hell?”

  I shrugged. “What about it?”

  “They don’t show up in Hell?”

  “Nope. And when angels do it, they don’t end up in Heaven, either.”

  “And what does your father have to say about it?”

  “It’s just one of those things. Everyone knows you always phase with someone else flying copilot, and you never go farther than one of you has already been. First basic safety rule, unless you’re going to Hell, of course. That’s a simple hop between planes.”

  “Good to know,” Matt said and tugged on my hand. “Come on. Let’s wander around instead of sitting up here looking down at it like a couple of birds.”

  “If you want to look like a couple of birds… ” I let my suggestion trail off. That could be arranged, after all.

  He raised his eyebrows at me and pulled me toward the elevator. “No way. No wings.”

  “Spoilsport.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “You better believe it. We’re going to be the very definition of low-key. There is no way I’m letting my family hear I decided to go on a mid-evening flight through the City of Light with the Daughter of Darkness.”

  I snickered at the idea. That would go over well.

  “Irony aside, they’ll be on our doorsteps, armed to the teeth and ready to rip me out of your evil clutches by all the force they can muster.”