Their eyes turned to her, smiles instantly fading, causing her to run her hand nervously down the front of the gown that Aosoth had procured for her. The sheer fabric clung to her skin, gold and silver plates alternated in a unique pattern to cover all the necessary bits, and the strapless sweetheart top showcased her ample cleavage. No stranger to wearing sexy and revealing clothing, even she had cringed when she first saw her reflection, but she’d hoped that Rafael would like it.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I should have known it would be too much.” Looking to Aosoth who had poured her voluptuous little figure into a classic black dress, Izzy frowned, “Do you have anything else?”
“No!” both men said in unison as they broke into peals of laughter.
Rafael came forward, a silly smile on his face. “No, honey. You look stunning. So much so, you and Aosoth took our words away. Please don’t change. You will be the perfect distraction tonight. No one will be able to tear their eyes off you.”
Iyzebel kissed him hard on the mouth, hands sliding up the smooth fabric of the expensive tux and lacing behind his neck. She didn’t care that the others watched, her passion for Rafael was like a furnace burning away the demon inside her and making her feel more alive than she had thought possible.
As they reluctantly pulled apart, a young man entered the room, his face pale. Coming to Giovanni’s side he announced, “The guests have arrived.”
“Very good, Marco. Thank you.” As the boy scurried away, he spoke to the others, “Are you ready?”
“Ready or not, here we go,” Izzy mumbled as they followed Aosoth and Giovanni into what he called the formal receiving room.
Settling at the back of the room, Izzy snapped her fingers, calling Rafael to her. As if he were under complete thrall, he draped himself around her, a look of adoration and reverence on his face.
Capone, Luciano, Johnny Boy, and others that she did not recognize stood near the door. Aosoth pushed Giovanni to the center of the room, and with wary glances toward her and Raf, the gangsters stepped forward to pay their respects to the living legend who had called them there.
“Don Guireto, you look well,” the genuine pleasure in Johnny Boy’s voice did not hide his suspicion as he studied the old man.
“Thank you, John. It is good to see all of you again,” Giovanni smiled. “Al, Al Capone! It has been too long.”
“Yes, Don Guireto, it has. You’ve done well for yourself.” The gleam of jealousy in Capone’s eye was well hidden by his jovial smile, “I see that you have other guests tonight.”
“Always one to get down to the brass tacks, Al. Yes, I believe you know Iyzebel and her friend quite well. They are here as my guests and as friends of ours.” Giovanni paused, waiting for the meaning of his words to sink in.
Izzy held her breath as she squeezed Rafael’s hand. She’d spent enough time dealing with the mobsters that she understood the significance of Giovanni’s phrasing. If he had said they were friends of his, it would simply mean that she and Raf were under his protection. Instead, he had used the age old term to name them as friends to the mafia and members of the family, with those words.
A challenge danced in Luciano’s face as he stared at her from across the room, but even he could respect the old ways. Dipping his head to one side in deference, he spoke the words expected of him, “We are honored to join you this night.”
One by one, men and demons came to Giovanni and paid tribute as he introduced them to Rafael and Izzy. Their eyes gleamed with evil intent as they recognized the power pulsating off the seemingly love struck angel.
The names were all familiar; she’d repeatedly heard and said them as she had helped plan the culling. However, seeing the living breathing representation gathered before her, struck a chord deep inside.
Demons and men. Both willing to destroy everything for greed. They would sacrifice all but four hundred names in order to have their desires fulfilled. Their family, their sacred society, would have fallen victim to their endless need. The fiery pits would have been no salvation for such beasts.
She had wanted the culling, the idea still appealed to her when she thought of the pain and misery that had befallen her and so many others, but it was not the way. To punish the sons and daughters for the sins of the mothers and fathers would be wrong.
Evil would only beget evil.
“Shall we, dine?” Giovanni’s voice called Iyzebel out of her dark thoughts, back to the room full of deadly allies.
With Aosoth quietly pushing his chair, Giovanni led the way and the other’s followed. Iyzebel entered the dining room last, Rafael at her side like an obedient puppy. When she reached the long table, he pulled out her chair, held her hand as she was seated, and stood by as if waiting for her next whim.
She could feel the mobsters’ eyes on her, scrutinizing, doubting, and devouring her every move. “Fucking vultures,” she mumbled a little too loudly.
“What was that, Iyzebel?” Capone leered at her from across the table.
She batted her eyes, a look of complete innocence on her face, “Fuck you, Capone.”
Giovanni stiffened and Raf sucked in his breath, but the wiseguys fell about in laughter. Clapping each other on the back, they smiled lovingly at Izzy and declared that she had spunk and moxy. Only Capone bristled at being the blunt of her words and of the good fellow’s merriment.
The conversation flowed as waiters served endless courses of panelle, caponta, prosciutto, ricotta gnocchi, Pasta con le Sarde, seafood, and brazen pork. They drank the many wines and loudly spoke about the state of things all over the world, sharing stories of their predecessors, lackeys, and the government hounds who ceaselessly tried in vain to sever their reach into politics, finance, and business.
“This thing of ours, it is about something more pure than any outsider can understand. We are an old tradition, the heart of the world,” Big Tony held up his glass to be refilled as he spoke. “Don Guireto, we have long awaited your return to the underworld, have you decided to cross the line and join us in an alliance with Lucifer?”
The room fell silent, all eyes turned toward Giovanni, waiting for his answer—for the truth.
“I suppose, my friends, I owe you an explanation of why you have been called here. I know of the demon Ashur, as you see the pride of his creations sits at my table with an angel as her toy. I know of this harvest in which the wiseguys and the demons wish to release Hell into the world by the use of the seven gates.”
Giovanni paused, like the true dramatic genius he was, and took a sip of his wine. Both the men and the demons waited with forks untouched and glasses held mid-way to their lips.
“There was a time that we ruled all. We were stronger than demons and gods. The hand of the family held the world by the throat. Men died by our scorn and lived by our good graces. We once lived in the Golden Age, but since then, we have become less. Our fathers, our former dons, they should be ashamed of what has come of us. In the old days, it was simple. We ruled with an iron fist and a quick wit. Now, we are slaves to the Fallen and rats hiding in their holes from the government.”
A chorus of grumbled agreement and serious faces surrounded her as Izzy watched the old man transform to the powerful figurehead he had been in his glory years.
“This culling, the harvesting of human souls and the destruction of the world, it is our chance to reign supreme once again. We do not fear God. We do not fear Lucifer. We are men and demons of the earthly world, the ethereal super powers have no rights here. Who are they to make us bow before them as if we were no more than street vendors begging for protection? Why should we limit our numbers to four hundred names, when we can control it all?”
“Get to the point, Guireto,” Capone hissed. “I’ve got us a sweet deal cut here, and if you are going to try to dip in my pot, I’d like to know where to put the bullet.”
Izzy snapped. The threat against Giovanni was more than she could take from the lips of a demon she despised. Fingernails leng
thening until they dug into the table in front of her, she stood and leaned forward, eyes boring into Capone’s.
“Draw your gun, goombah. I’ll take your hand off before you can pull the trigger.”
Leaping up and toppling his chair, Capone’s hand went for the thirty-eight they all knew rested beneath his jacket. “I’ll tear you apart, you stupid bitch. I can almost bet Ashur has done screwed the best part of your demon out of that silly little head of yours.”
She lunged, but Capone was quicker than Luciano had been. Spinning backward, he veered out of Izzy’s reach, but not Rafael’s. The angel spread his wings and lifted the man off the ground by his throat.
With a snarl of disgust, Al insisted, “Have your guard dog put me down, Iyzebel.”
Izzy’s anger faded as she laughed, and tapped her pursed lips with the tip of her finger in mock contemplation, “Still think you can tear me apart, Big Al?”
Before the crime boss could answer, Giovanni’s voice demanded, “Knock it off! We are here to unite and overcome, not to fight among ourselves as if we were children.”
Izzy’s smile faded, and she nodded to Raf, who she swore was enjoying playing her guard dog a bit too much. With a shrug, he released Capone’s lapels, letting the man fall unceremoniously to the ground, and walked back to Izzy’s side.
Without a word, Capone returned to the table, avoiding Izzy’s glare and the snickers coming from his companions. Izzy couldn’t help notice a gleam in Luciano’s good eye as the man enjoyed a bit of retribution for when Capone had made light of Izzy clawing out his eye.
“If you are done,” Giovanni chided, casting an impatient look in Izzy’s direction.
“My apologies,” she murmured, biting her cheek.
“As for you, Capone, if you threaten me again I will let Izzy’s little friend show you a thing or two about respect.”
Capone remained sully and silence, bristling under the pressure.
“As I was saying, it is time for the true backbone of the economical world to regain their position. No more will we stand down and allow our once proud familia to be used as mere foot soldiers or to be caged like animals. It is time for us to take a stand and recapture our thrones as superpowers in this world. We have come together for the demons’ uses, why not our own?”
The men and demons along both sides of the table raised their glasses, each echoing an old Sicilian toast, “Cent Anni. May we have a hundred years.” Only Capone and Alejandro remained silent.
The shrewd gentleman with dark skin and eyes, asked, “Don Guireto, how do you propose we do this. My uncle has always spoken highly of you, but he sent me with a word of caution. He says that he feels there is danger in what you wish to do, though he was not clear on your exact designs.”
Giovanni steepled his fingers in front of him, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. “We are going to kill the demon Ashur and release Hell on this world.”
Izzy was sure they had to have known what Giovanni meant to do, but the wave of shock that passed over the table was palpable.
“Giovanni,” Sedat spoke with quiet reference, “is it possible?”
“We have the two things that the demons most fear, the angel and Damocles.”
“But how do you plan to control the beast once the sword is in his hands and the demon slayer is fully awakened?” Capone sneered.
“He is a slave to Iyzebel, she holds him in thrall. The greatest angels have fallen to the wiles of a woman, it is how the Fallen fell, and this one is no different.”
Turning to Izzy, Shinobu cocked his head to the side and studied her, and asked in his thick accent, “What is in it for her?”
Bristling because he wouldn’t ask her directly, words vomited from her mouth. “Ashur took me from a normal human life when I was nothing but a child. He raped my soul and showed me the end of the world in order to trick me into his service. When I agreed, I became condemned to Hell. After that, he left me to rot in a human hospital where they treated me little better than an animal. Everything I loved was out of my reach, and everyone I had ever known turned their backs on me. Five years ago, he returned, promising to make me like him and to revenge all that had befallen me.”
Scanning their reactions, she continued with venom in her voice. “What do you think I got in return? I got the promise of the culling, yes. But it came at a steep price. For five years, I have been Ashur’s assassin, whore, whipping post, and slave. He has driven me to a hatred so deep it is one and the same with the loathing I feel for humanity. What’s in it for me? His death!”
Heads nodded, contemplative looks were shared, and Izzy watched as suspect turned to belief.
“Still, how can we be sure your power over this angel, if he is indeed Rafael, is strong enough to contain him?” Domenico asked, running his eyes over Rafael’s form as if the angel were a priceless painting to be coveted.
“You saw his dedication to me just moments ago. I assure you, if I had not ordered him to release Capone, your numbers would be one short right now.”
Domenico smiled, but pressed her, “Still, I believe a demonstration is needed.”
“Very well, bring him Damocles and a demon.” Izzy’s grin turned wicked as she spoke. “Do you have a man you would spare? Preferably one you don’t find very useful.” Casting a hopeful glance at Capone, “Or if you’d like to volunteer?”
The crime bosses whispered back and forth, arguments and questions hissing between them. At last, Capone spoke for the group, “We have such a man, but you had better be able to control that thing.”
Johnny Boy stepped from the room, his footsteps echoing as he marched down the hall to retrieve one of the lower ranked men they had left lounging at the other end of the apartment. While the victim was retrieved, Izzy excused herself from the table, and led Rafael through a doorway at the back of the room.
In the confines of the large empty space, once used as a gentleman’s smoking room, Izzy took a deep breath and tried to settle herself. “Are you sure you can do this, Rafael. If they doubt us at all, the plan will fail.”
“With you, anything is possible.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her lips with enough passion that she felt dizzy when he pulled away.
“Stop that! You are supposed to be gazing at me with adoration, not the other way around,” she teased.
“I’m sorry, darling. That dress and watching you be so forceful, it is hard to resist.”
The sound of footsteps interrupted their playful banter. “Take off your shirt and kneel in the center of the floor.”
Rafael gave her a sexy wink, but did as he was told.
As the men filed into the room, Izzy asked them to line up against the back wall. With a nod of confirmation from Giovanni, she began her demonstration on a wing of hope that she could indeed control Rafael’s demon slayer instincts once Damocles was in his hands.
Her hips swung in a seductive sway as she approached her victim. Smoothing her hand over the man’s face, she realized that he was young in both human years and demon blood. Again, she wondered who had fathered the line of demon wiseguys.
“What’s your name?”
Swallowing hard, he answered, “Miko.”
“Hello, Miko. Come with me, darling. I promise, you are safe with me,” she used her charm to coax him forward until he stood behind Rafael, facing the others. “Now, you stay right there, and be a good boy. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he cooed, and she almost pitied him.
Retreating back to Rafael’s side, she faced her audience, “Rafael?”
His voice drove tingles into her stomach when he answered, “Yes, Iyzebel.”
“Show us your wings.”
A whoosh of warm air blew her hair forward as he forced his wings outward in an explosion of ivory feathers, and Izzy watched their faces struggle to look unimpressed. “Gentleman, the sword please.”
She spread her arms in a sweeping motion as if she were Houdini performing at the Columbia Theater. Sedat
and Luciano hefted the box holding Damocles and brought it forward, and following Izzy’s gesture, they placed the crate in front of the kneeling angel before quickly retreating.
Izzy turned to face Raf, and her heart instantly skipped a beat. The look of pure rapture and menace blended in his face was a terrifying sight. Closing her eyes and breathing deep, she silently hoped that she’d survive the encounter.
“Rafael, pick up your sword.”
His hands reached outward to cradle the blade as if it was a child, and he whispered its name. The steel shimmered and glowed, drawing the weak light from the room.
“Stand,” Izzy ordered, fighting the urge to flee.
Rafael’s head snapped upward, his eyes boring into her face with hatred. For a moment, he was the vengeful angel that had come forth on their first night together. Izzy silently mouthed his name, her eyes pleading for him to hold to his control. Rafael blinked, and she knew he’d returned to his own mind, but she wasn’t for sure for how long.
He stood, sword at his side, his massive hand fitting the hilt perfectly. Bowing at the waist, his voice boomed with ethereal power, “What is your command?”
Over his shoulder, Izzy warned the demon, “You’d better prepare.” Locking eyes with Rafael, she stepped into the danger of his reach and ran her fingernails down his chest in light trails. “I want you to turn around and fight that nasty little demon behind you until I say stop. Do you understand?”
His lip snarled up on one side, “Yes, Iyzebel.”
Izzy had just enough time to consider how cute the look would be, if he wasn’t glaring at her as if he wanted to cut her open and watch her bleed out, before he spun around and swung Damocles at the demon behind him.
Miko fell back, hissing as his lips pulled up over his teeth, showing gum. In a heartbeat, the sweet and nervous boy turned. The two circled, both taking lazy shots at the other, testing their opponents reach and speed. Rafael growled and lurched forward, his blade singing as it sped toward the demon. In retaliation, Miko parried, his long talons barely missing Rafael’s arm.
Voices of Hell Page 12
