Voices of Hell

by Catherine Stovall

  Izzy gasped, fearing that if the angel’s blood was shed, that the room would become a war zone. “Rafael, stop!” she ordered, trying to prevent the mayhem.

  He turned, his eyes brushing over the spot where she stood as if she wasn’t there, and Miko took advantage of the distraction. Jumping high into the air, the he hurled downward, claws out and a scream of victory on his lips.

  Raf turned toward the sound, raising Damocles in a hard thrust as Izzy screamed.

  “No-o-o!” Reaching out for him, she forgot the danger. “Rafael, stop!”

  At the last second, he spun, smashing the butt of the sword into the back of Miko’s head. The demon landed face down, unconscious on the hard floor, blood exploding from his nose.

  Raf fell to his knees, wings retracting and head bowed, as Izzy breathed a sigh of relief. “Very good, Rafael. You may stand and dress.”

  Turning, she held out her arms and took a bow, covering her nervousness with a smirk. “Gentleman, I hope you enjoyed the show.” With a haughtiness she didn’t really feel, Iyzebel stepped over Miko and strode over to the onlookers as if she had not feared for her life.

  “I think you have a deal, Don Guireto.” Capone eyed her for a moment, before asking, “Just exactly how do you plan on accomplishing this?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The members reconvened in the formal sitting room, a low fire burning in the grate and the balcony doors open to allow the night air to dance through the long white curtains. The bosses had called their their crews. The women, rolling their eyes as they were introduced as this or that man’s comare, came in brightly colored dresses and dripping jewels. The addition of the extended family brought a festive air to the evening as they celebrated what was quickly being termed La Seconda Venuta—The Second Coming.

  The conversation flowed as the wine bottles emptied and more were brought from all over the city. Aosoth had taken Giovanni off to bed hours before, leaving his capos to host the ongoing festivities in his stead.

  Izzy tried to be pleasant, talking to the people and smiling, but with each new body that came and went from the apartment, the chance that Ashur would learn of their deception grew. She hadn’t even told Giovanni that they had planned to take out the Voices of Hell later that night. If anyone tipped off Ashur, she’d be dead before they could act.

  The sword was secured, the plan set, but to escape the mass of bodies and faces, they’d have to wait until they could slip away unnoticed. Pinching the bridge of her nose and leaning against Rafael’s chest, Izzy sighed as a smooth female voice began yet another introduction.

  “Names, Sinead,” the woman blurted as she shoved a hand forward. “All these blockheads call me Sister Sin.”

  Izzy opened her eyes and took in the character before her. The woman had short dark hair, bobbed so that the tips curved just below her chin. Sharp blue eyes, the color of the sea at midday, danced with the mischievous demon that hid inside, and her smile was large and genuine despite the Tommy gun propped on her hip. The combination of heavy firepower and sex appeal literally popping out of the red sequin dress she wore would have been comical on any other woman, but somehow Sister Sin pulled it off.

  Izzy looked around the room, as she introduced herself, trying to figure out which one of the made men called this woman their own.

  “If you’re looking for my man, you won’t find one. I’m no bimbo. I earned my place here the hard way.” Tilting her head back in a vociferous but feminine laugh, she proudly displayed the jagged scar that ran across the middle of her throat. “Back in the old neighborhood, I got tied up with a fellow named The Greek. He caught me in the backseat of a Rambler with his best friend one night and decided to give me a Sicilian neck tie using a string off his grandmother’s piano. My maker found me half dead in the street, and here I stand.”

  “So what happened to the guy?” Izzy’s interest was truly piqued.

  “Which one? The guy I was banging or the one hugging my neck with the wire?” Sinead smiled, the mischief growing brighter.

  “Either, both!” Izzy exclaimed, earning her a rueful laugh from Rafael.

  Sinead eyed him, and declared, “So, the pretty little piece of winged meat does still have half a brain left… interesting.” Giving Izzy a playful nudge, she continued her story. “So, Larry, the guy in the Rambler, he ended up dead in the trunk a few weeks later. As far as The Greek goes, he died an old man in his bed.”

  With genuine surprise, Iyzebel asked, “You didn’t try to get revenge?”

  “The asshole would have loved to be turned, begged for it when the cancer started to eat his insides out. So when he went to old Al and asked, Al laughed in his face and told him he’s been blacklisted. The Greek demanded to know who did it, wanted a contract for their head. Al tells him, ‘Yo, buddy. I know this girl, she plays the piano. Her name is Sister Sin.’ And of course, Al is laughing his bloody head off the whole time.”

  “Well, the blockhead Greek doesn’t get it, so he started screaming. As if he could really do something. He says he don’t give a shit about no piano playing dame. He tries to threaten Al, but he’s weak, old, and can’t do nothing.”

  “So, Al says to him, ‘You remember a girl like that? She liked Ramblers this girl. Ramblers and men.’ Then old Al pulls out a wire from his desk and starts playing with it.”

  “Oh, for the love of the darkness, tell me he got it then,” Izzy gasped.

  “Yea, it finally sunk in, and The Greek, he got this stupid look on his face and started to cry. Blubbering like a baby right there in front of Al and the boys. That’s when I came out of the shadows, been there the whole time, trying not to pee myself.

  “He saw me, and he started begging more. Asking on his hands and knees for forgiveness like no real man would ever do in front of the family. I walked right up to him, looked him in the face, and I repeated the exact words he said to me that night when he left me for dead.”

  “What? What did you say?” Izzy covered her mouth with her hand, feeling childish for allowing herself to get so wrapped up in the story. “I’m sorry, it’s so fascinating.”

  “Awe, sugar, no need to apologize. I’m told I tell a good story, and you’re just a sweet little thing. But let me wrap this up, so I can let you get back to your guests. Anyway, I looked down at that son-of-a-whore and said, ‘We had a good run, Tino, but you just ain’t got what it takes to be true. This thing of ours, it’s sacred, and we don’t take kindly to weakness.’ After that, I walked away, heard he died a few months later screaming out my name.”

  Izzy’s laughter echoed like a thousand chimes through the room, and Raf smiled down at her with so much adoration she almost believed he was truly in thrall with her.

  Before she could forget herself and kiss him right there in front of everyone, Izzy turned her attention back to Sin. “You are a riot. Thank you so much for coming over, I’m afraid I’m a little bored. All this talk of business and world domination is killing me.”

  “You look exhausted, honey. Why don’t you take this hunk of feathery love on out of here and get some rest. You’re about to be the figurehead of the biggest family outing in history, you’re going to need to be on your toes in order to deal with this bunch of goons.”

  The escape was exactly what they needed, but Izzy insisted, “I couldn’t think of leaving, and as far as he goes,” she waved a hand dismissively at Raf, “he’d stand in the corner on his head if I told him too.”

  “Look, girl, who are you kidding? You may have the rest of them fooled, but I see through you. Pretend all you like, but there’s a little more than the mistress and the slave going on here.”

  Izzy’s eyes went wide, fear coursing through her in waves. “I don’t—”

  Sin’s laughter cut her off, “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Just remember me, when whatever you’ve got planned goes down. Now, get outta here, I’ll make your excuses.” With a wink, she turned and walked away.

  Once they were out of earsh
ot of the rest of the group, Izzy whispered, “That took way too long. Do you think it’s too late?”

  “Doesn’t matter, if Ashur knows you’ve betrayed him, he still won’t be expecting an attack in his own house. We have to do this now, Izzy. Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I will ever be.” Turning her back to him, she asked, “Unzip me?”

  He slid the zipper down the arch her back and trailed his fingers in its wake, “I wish we had more time.”

  The sadness in his voice surprised her, and she turned to face him, rising up to place a kiss on his lips. For an instant, she thought of her night with Ashur, and her blood ran cold. “There will be time after.”

  They changed quickly, trading black tie for black ops. Raf carefully strapped Damocles to his side, his deep amber eyes glistening with power and strength as the blade slid into the sheaf. Sliding on a long coat, too large for the early Fall weather, he checked to make sure the blade was fully hidden.

  With a final kiss, the two slipped from the room and headed for the fire escape. Slipping out onto the balcony that stretched across the rear of the building, they hugged the shadows, searching in vain for Aosoth.

  “Damn it. Where is she?” Izzy hissed. “We need her to pull the ladder back up or else someone might notice.” Giovanni’s idea of safety with class had been to install retractable metal ladders that would reach between the balconies rather than permanent fixtures to mar the building’s beauty.

  Raf looked around, and shrugged, “We have to take our chances. There’s no time to wait. Unless we are discovered missing, there will be no one looking for us anyway.”

  Together, they silently eased each ladder down to the next terrace until they had descended all ten floors. A black four door BMW sat in the alley, keys in the ignition, and Izzy was relieved it had not been discovered and stolen.

  Sliding into the driver’s seat, she threw the car in gear, her stomach tying in knots as they sped through the streets to Ashur’s Manhattan home. They rode in silence, fingers entwined between the seats, and their minds deep in thought of what would come next.

  The distance seemed too short, and before she knew it, Izzy was making the turn up the long, tree-lined driveway. “We’re just going to walk through the front door and hope for the best?”

  “That’s the plan. You do live there, Iz.”

  She nodded, her fingers going to the radio buttons to crank the volume. To no one at all, she whispered, “I love this song.”

  The dark sound of Volbeat’s “A Warrior’s Call” filled the car, as Izzy’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel. This is it. This is really it. It’s time to fight!

  She stopped the car in the circular drive, and looked to Rafael. “Just in case things don’t go right, I love you. I hope—”

  He placed the tip of his finger over her lips, “Shh. Don’t do this, Izzy. Things are going to work out just fine.”

  She quickly kissed him, and they exited the car. The urge to take his hand ate at her as they climbed the wide stairs. Before they could reach the top, the door opened, and she wished for Rafael’s touch even more.

  Ashur looked out at her, a disapproving look on his face. “Iyzebel, it is so gracious of you to return, and only three days late.”

  Smiling sheepishly, she murmured, “I told Ogwald.”

  “Since when do you answer to the butler?” he growled, stepping back to let her inside. “At least you’re here now, and you’ve brought our pet.”

  “I’m sorry, Ashur. I only wanted to make sure I sealed the bond before I set the demon slayer lose upon the greatest minds of Hell.” The flattery scalded her tongue as she tried to sound sincere.

  “Is that right, my siren?” Ashur’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “And did you? Seal the bond?”

  “Yes. It drained much of my strength, but he is as obedient to me as a trained pup,” her demeanor didn’t hold the self-assurance that her words did, and she prayed that Ashur would contribute it to fear of how he might punish her for staying gone.

  As they climbed the stairs, Ashur looked back over his shoulder at Rafael, “Do you want to kill me, angel?”

  Rafael sneered, “Yes.”

  Frozen mid-step, Izzy looked back and forth between the demon and angel. When Raf did not move to strike, she chided, “Ashur, don’t pester. It’s hard enough without you goading him.”

  Reaching back to take her hand and forcing her to walk beside him, Ashur laughed. “Come now, Iyzebel. We have our very own Archangel, what’s the fun if we can’t mess with him a bit?”

  She cringed at his touch, the simple contact stirring the demon inside of her, waking it from the forced hibernation. The hollow emptiness in her gut and sour taste in the back of her throat reminded her that it had been too long since she’d properly fed. The smell of the human servants in the house made her mouth fill with saliva and her head spin as she fought to remain in control.

  Passing his office, Izzy paused. “Where are we going?”

  Ash huffed in frustration, “Just come on.”

  “No. Tell me where we are going.” She popped a hand up on her hip, defying him as she had always done, though she knew he’d make her pay for it.

  Instead of growing angry, he gave her a patient smile. “I was going to surprise you, since you’ve worked so hard, but I guess you have to ruin everything.”

  She knew he was toying with her, he never gave such compliments and he certainly had never given into her so easily. “I am not trying to ruin anything. I simply don’t trust you.”

  “Iyzebel, shut up,” Ashur hissed. “Move your ass, or I will move it for you.”

  Raf tensed behind her, she felt it as if they were truly connected, but he remained silent and unmoving. Thanking the darkness for his self-control, Izzy shrugged, “Yes, Ashur.”

  The farther they followed the hall, the quicker she realized that he was taking her to the top of the house. The deck like area at the center of the roof had been designed for stargazing by the previous owners, but for the current residents, it was a place used to access Hell. The fresh wave of panic made the demon inside squirm with delight, and her stomach feel as if it might empty its contents on the wooden stairs that led them upward once more.

  At last, Ashur pushed the door open, and motioned for Izzy to step out into the night. She wanted to ask him if they were making the transition into the dark realms, but fear kept her jaw clenched tight enough to make it ache. Trying to act nonchalant, she passed through the door, and abruptly stopped.

  Raf, who had followed closely behind her, bumped into her back. A growl of hatred exploding from his throat as his eyes fell upon the reason for her distress.

  Slamming the door shut behind them, Ashur leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, a pleased smile on his face. “I thought we might have a little company for our entertainment tonight, Iyzebel. Do you approve?”

  “Ashur, what have you done?” Izzy wanted to weep as she looked across the rooftop and into Giovanni’s face. Nearby, Focalor and Fluerty held Aosoth between them, and the other Voices of Hell members stood ready for battle.

  “Just a little insurance, my sweet. I’ve been hearing nasty rumors that you’re planning on double-crossing me. My fault, really, for trusting you with such an important mission. I should have known your demon hadn’t bonded well enough to keep control of you. You’re such a disappointment. However, none of that matters now. The culling is set to begin. Nothing you’ve done has changed that. Within the hour, the first one hundred will die, and the skies will fill with our brethren.”

  Ashur approached Rafael, his talons slowly lengthening. “Now, tell your pet to hand over the sword without harming me, or I am going to let Sydonay have a little fun with Don Guireto.”

  Izzy’s eyes darted across the roof in time to see the raven-haired beauty move to stand behind Giovanni’s wheel chair. He mouthed the word no, his eyes pleading for her to resist the urge to save him. Even as Sydonay dragged her nails over his cheek
, leaving thin red whelps on the fragile flesh, he winced but did not cry out. Instead, the old man lifted his hand to his heart and curled his fingers into a fist, signaling Izzy to be strong.

  Choking on her sadness, Izzy knew she’d have to sacrifice her friend. The enemy never kept their word and spared the hostage. After all the years of being on the bad side of Ashur’s ire, she understood all too clearly how his mind worked, and she’d bet her life that he had no intentions of allowing them to leave the roof alive.

  “Rafael?” she looked to him for guidance, but he remained stoic.

  The familiar pain at the back of her skull began the exact time the name left her lips, the pressure building with fierce intensity. Buckling to her knees, Izzy cried out, her eyes blurring with tears.

  “Iyzebel, I gave you an order. I will tolerate no more of your disobedience.”

  Her eyes immediately shot to Rafael, expecting him to save her, but he did not move. She realized then, that Ashur had overestimated her powers and under estimated her wit. He thinks Rafael is really in thrall. He doesn’t know. Holy shit, he doesn’t know that the mafia has changed sides. Rafael is biding his time, but for what?

  The feeling of electric shock and needles in her brain lessened, and Izzy struggled to her feet. “Hey, dumbass,” she screamed at Ashur, enjoying the surprised look on his face. “You do realize, if you knock me unconscious or kill me, you are going to have a fully armed demon slaying angel to deal with, right?”

  Eyes blazing, he sent a fresh wave of pain her way. “Then maybe we should see just how much you can take before either of those happen. I warned you, your disrespect will no longer be tolerated.” He stepped closer as she doubled over, her hands clenched on either side of her head. “Tell him to hand over the sword!”

  Through teary eyes, Iyzebel glared at Ashur, watching his layer of false appearance peel away. The shadows crawled and stretched over the rooftops, their bloated bodies spreading out like thick blobs of ebony slime. They slithered and crawled around her as she stumbled. Her world spun, the pain pounding through her head making her nauseated. Arms stretched outward, Izzy spun. The demons’ sneering faces leered at her from the other side of the deck as they laughed, their human masks stripped away.