by T. R. Hamby
“I asked her why she would do such things. She said she liked it. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t troubled. She was just….evil.”
There was a pause.
“Is she here?” Michael asked.
Serene nodded. “Yes. She’s been here for two years--getting established--I only just heard about it; I was visiting a friend back Home for a few weeks when I heard. I had drinks with her, and I knew from our conversation that she’s planning something. She’s the exact same, but she’s gotten better at lying. I couldn’t extract the truth from her.”
Mel was shocked. “She’s Immune to your Talent?”
“Not Immune….just resistant,” Serene explained. “I think it’s because she’s just….cold. Guiltless. She has no urge to tell the truth, so there’s nothing for me to draw on.”
“What about your other Talent?” Michael asked.
Serene sighed and shook her head.
She had two Talents: She could draw the truth out of anyone--human or Angel--and she could also calm them. She often paired the two powers together--her calming effect made it much easier to extract the truth from her subject.
She said, “Persephone is almost always calm, except when she’s angry. I can’t make her any calmer.”
“For god’s sake, why does it always have to be so fucking complicated,” Mel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, his head twitching.
Serene looked around the room. Nora was frowning, clearly thinking hard. Gilla was hugging her knees to her chest, staring disturbed at the newspaper clipping. But Michael, she was surprised to find, was studying Mel worriedly.
She knew of their difficult relationship. Who didn’t? She had always wondered how the two had managed to work together for so long. It hurt her to know that the relationship between her father and her uncle had been shattered. She wondered if there was any hope of picking up the pieces.
Nora leaned forward. “What do you think….she’s going to do?” she asked quietly.
Serene felt a knot in her gut, and it took her a long moment to finally speak.
“She has a Talent,” she whispered. “She would use it on the other children, when we weren’t looking.”
She paused again, then said, “She can control a person’s body. Make the limbs move, the spine curve. I believe she can do worse--break, crush, twist. I think what she’s planning is the worst. I know all these Angels are evil, but….I think she’s a serial killer.”
A chill went through the air. They looked at each other, pale and fearful.
“Okay,” Nora said after some time.
She looked grave, her brown eyes serious. “I have an idea. We try to track down the missing girl, see if she’s connected to Persephone. Serene--if you want--if we have to question people, you can use your Talents on them. Gilla, we’ll work on improving our fighting. And you,” she said, looking directly at Mel, “we’ll get your arm fixed.”
Mel glowered, moody, and his hand went almost unconsciously to his left arm.
Serene frowned. “What? What happened?”
Michael updated her, and she sighed, running a hand through her drying hair. This was a clusterfuck. What was Father thinking?
“We have no way of knowing how Andreas is going to react,” Mel said broodingly. “He may try to run. If we force him, he may try to fuck up the procedure.”
But there was a little clap, and everyone looked at Gilla, who was sitting up straight. She signed rapidly.
Nora let out a breath and looked at Serene. “Shit. That could work,” she said.
“What is it?”
“You can calm anyone,” Nora replied. “If we tell Andreas everything with you there, we won’t have to worry about him freaking out.”
She looked at Mel. “We’ll tell him, and we’ll do the surgery right there.”
“Invite him over,” Mel said, nodding slowly. “We’ll buy an operating table, set it up here. Agatha will put me to sleep, he’ll perform the procedure, and Michael can transfer me to your bed.”
“What do we do with him after?” Nora wondered.
“The calming effect lasts for a few hours,” Serene said. “Enough for him to get home, I imagine.”
They were nodding, murmuring. Mel was rubbing his arm. He had a fearful look on his face, and Serene frowned, concerned.
“It’s going to hurt,” he murmured. “After.”
Nora held his hand. “We’ll figure it out. You might have to….I don’t know, snort painkillers or something.”
But Serene had an idea.
“I know something….” she said quietly. “It might work.”
Everyone waited, and she looked between Mel and Michael. She could tell they weren’t getting it.
“Gabriel,” she said simply.
Michael looked pained at the mention of his son. “What about Gabriel?”
She gave him a look; she was surprised he wasn’t understanding. “You know what, Mica. Gabriel’s Talent.”
Now Michael looked intrigued, and he and Mel glanced at each other, before looking away awkwardly.
“What Talent?” Nora asked, frowning.
“My brother can suppress things,” Serene explained. “Physical manifestations of things. Like a person’s strength, or the rush of a river. He uses it when he fights all the time. It’s not the most useful Talent--he has to make physical contact for it to work--but I bet he could use it to suppress pain.”
“It could work,” Mel said, nodding. “Do you know where he is now?”
“No,” Serene said firmly, “but I can find him.”
Persephone
“You sought me out,” Persephone said, idly picking at a nail. Polish didn’t stay on her nails as long as it would on a human’s.
She looked at the Angel sitting across from her. “Why, exactly?”
They were in the penthouse, and the Angel sitting opposite was calm, sitting almost lazily, one arm draped across the back of the couch. She was tan-skinned, dark-eyed, with pixie-like hair. There was a smirk on her face. Eris, she was called.
“I like hunting humans,” she said simply.
Persephone raised an eyebrow. “Ever done it before?”
“Yes.”
She was mildly surprised. “Oh?”
“Just to….enjoy them. They were unconscious; they never knew the difference. I would like to do more.”
“You act suave. It’s stupid,” Persephone said, annoyed.
She stood. “You’re the kind that gets territorial. I’m not dealing with it.”
Now Eris looked worried. She thought for a moment, while Persephone went to fix herself a drink.
She glanced at the room across the hall--the Prison, she liked to call it. The body of the girl from Croydon was lying across the threshold. She had been trying to claw her way out, only to expire halfway out the door. She was mottled, mouth gaping open, eyes staring. Wide lacerations were on her face and arms, exposing the muscle and festering. Her nails had been ripped off in her struggle to get out the door.
Persephone felt the slightest hint of pleasure, but it was only slight. Croydon’s death hadn’t been enough to satisfy her. The high had only lasted one night. Now she craved more.
She heard Eris stand up, and she looked at her. Her face was almost desperate.
“Give me a share,” she said. “I can have one out of every three I bring to you.”
Persephone sipped her drink, unmoved. “You have no Talent.”
“I’m good at hunting.”
“You sound like my sister. And besides, I already have someone for that.”
“I’m good at sneaking,” she persisted. “I’m good at fighting. Very good. Who do you need me to kill? I’ll do it, if you let me in.”
Persephone paused. She clicked her nails against her glass, chewed on her lip.
It would be useful to have a third. And also useful to have a third who was good at killing. Perhaps.
She looked at her. “I need an Angel killed.”
Eris nodded. “Who?”
“Michael the Murderer’s daughter. Serene.”
“Do you know where she is?”
She snorted. “That’s your job. Kill Serene, and I’ll let you have some of my Creations.”
She paused, then added, “Bond Street. That’s where I first felt her.”
Eris looked almost intimidated; everyone on this side of the city visited Bond Street.
But she nodded, seeming to steel herself. “I’ll do it. Do you want her to suffer?”
“No. Just kill her. I need her off my ass.”
The elevator opened then, and she turned. She smiled: A young woman, freckled, with long red hair, was stepping into the flat, Lucius’ arm around her waist. She was giggling, staring at him starry-eyed.
She looked around and caught sight of Persephone. “Oh. Hello.”
“Hello, darling,” Persephone said. “Welcome to our home. What do you want to drink?”
She thought a moment, gazing again at Lucius, his Talent overwhelming her.
“How about a Pimm’s?” he asked, his voice a purr.
She giggled. “All right then.”
He sat her on the couch, and Persephone made the drinks. She kept glancing over at them, feeling a thrill. The girl was very beautiful, pale-skinned and blue-eyed. Lucius murmured in her ear, sliding a hand up her thigh, and she blushed, grinning dazedly. Eris watched, looking her up and down hungrily.
“Oh, I’m Abby,” the girl said as Persephone handed her a drink.
“What do you do, Abby?” Persephone asked, sitting on the arm of the couch and studying her.
So young, with stars in her eyes. She loved it, loved every last inch of life in her.
Abby looked at Lucius, who smirked. She grinned and said, “I’m in university. I’m studying business.”
“You’ll go far,” Lucius offered, tracing his fingers on her palm.
She grinned at him, looking down at his lips. “Yes, I will,” she said, clearly unaware of what she was saying.
Persephone caught his eye and shook her head. Time to cut off the charm.
He smiled, and ever so slowly the air shifted. Abby’s smile began to turn into a frown, and she looked around in confusion.
She gave a nervous chuckle. “I’d better be going,” she said, rising.
But Lucius grabbed her by the back of the neck and yanked her back onto the couch. She shrieked, grabbing his wrist, and he grinned.
“Please stop--please--”
Persephone rose. Every moan, every plea made her heart race so deliciously.
Abby caught her eye--Lucius had a hand on her throat now, and she was crying, trembling.
“Please don’t let him hurt me,” she breathed, gripping his wrist. “Please….please….I want my mum….”
That was enough. Persephone’s fingers trembled with excitement, and her lip curled. She jerked her head, and Abby’s body rose awkwardly, her legs stumbling and her spine throwing her forward. She shrieked again, waving her arms to keep her balance.
“No no please--”
Persephone twitched her finger, and immediately a wide cut appeared on Abby’s chest, and another on her thigh. Blood spilled out of the wounds, and the girl howled, clutching at them.
She tried to run forward, and Persephone raised her hand, slicing the air. The girl’s ankle broke, and she fell, screaming. On the couch Lucius and Eris watched, greedy and delighted.
Persephone squatted down, drinking in the girl’s cries, her pain. It was intoxicating, absolutely intoxicating.
This was what she was meant to do. All her life, this had been her destiny.
She caught hold of the girl’s cheek and lifted her face, looking into those terrified eyes.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she breathed, watching the hope die in the young woman’s eyes. “This is where you’ll stay, and your mum will never find you.”
Nora
For the next couple of days everyone was busy.
Serene left for the Immortal World in order to track down her brother, and convince him to come down to Earth again. Gilla and Nora resumed their fighting lessons in the mornings--right after their sign language lessons. Mel and Michael patrolled Croydon, particularly Cole Street, where the Lion’s Club was. Mel was now keeping his arm in a sling, very reluctantly.
They had to set a date with Andreas as soon as possible.
“I’ll go,” Nora said.
They were standing in Mel’s bedroom, and she was helping him get his arm through his sleeve. His motor function was deteriorating at an alarming rate--hence the sling.
“I can go too,” Mel replied, frowning.
“He’ll only bring up the surgery if he sees your arm like this,” she said wisely. “This is supposed to be a dinner date. We can’t have any distractions.”
“You’ll be a distraction,” Mel smirked, and she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah. I’m counting on it.”
She started buttoning his shirt. He smirked, then said, “My hero.”
“Whatever,” she said, laughing.
He took her by the waist and kissed her, and she melted into him, careful not to bump his bad arm as she kissed him.
At three o’clock she made her way to Harley Street. She decided to look nice for the occasion--a sophisticated black dress with red-bottomed heels. This was supposed to be a request for a date, after all. She had to look her best.
The practice was bustling, but she spotted Andreas--or Dr. Berg, she supposed--right away, talking to the receptionist. Nora approached, setting her little purse on the counter. Andreas looked up, caught her eye--stared--and then grinned.
“Miss Rossi,” he said, straightening. “Come for an appointment?”
“Just a question,” Nora murmured.
He seemed to catch her meaning, and nodded. He went around the desk and opened the door to the waiting area. Nora stepped through, and he led her to what was clearly his office.
“Five minutes,” he said, in his lovely Swedish accent.
Nora nodded and made sure to shoot him a coy smile. He grinned, and stepped out.
She took a steadying breath. She had to secure this date. If Andreas refused to come over, they would have to use more drastic measures, and no one wanted to do that. Nora didn’t want to kidnap or force anyone to do anything, and Mel especially didn’t want to either.
After a few moments Andreas returned, closing the door and shedding his white coat.
“I’m assuming this is about your boyfriend,” he said, sitting at his desk. “How is he?”
Nora was surprised; she had been sure he would be more interested in her than in Mel’s health.
She cleared her throat. “He’ll be seeing you soon. But we were wondering….you know, if you’d like to come by for dinner.”
Andreas hesitated. He drummed his fingers on the table, before replying, “Look….now that he is a potential patient….anything beyond a professional relationship….”
“No one would know,” Nora said, trying not to sound desperate.
He smiled. “Everyone says that.”
“We have no reason to tell. We’re very wealthy….ridiculously wealthy, even. We don’t have any reason to go after you. And,” she said, as Andreas opened his mouth to speak, “anyone who would try to defame you….we could clear it up. It’s really no object.”
He stared at her, as though she was a puzzle.
He chuckled quizzically. “You two are that desperate for my dick?”
Nora couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and he grinned, clearly enjoying the sight. Good. This might be going somewhere.
Once she regained control of herself she said, “We had a good time with you. A great time with you.”
Andreas nodded slowly, flushing. “So did I.”
“One more time, then,” she said, pretending to pout.
He grinned, muttered some Swedish under his breath. Nora took this as a good sign, and stood, easing around the large desk. He
didn’t protest; he just watched her as she approached, leaning back in his chair.
An idea struck her. “So,” she said, “do you prefer men, or women?”
He smirked, watching as she leaned back on his desk in front of him. Their knees were very close to touching, and she could faintly smell his cologne.
He shifted, straightening. “Honestly,” he said slowly, “I prefer anything that walks.”
“So you’re pansexual.”
“Sure.”
She giggled, drawing an inch closer. “What about me?”
“You should know the answer to that.”
“So….”
And she drew to him, running her hands along his shoulders. He was grinning slightly, looking her up and down and holding her waist.
“So, enough to come by on Friday? Six?”
Andreas avoided her eyes, ran his hands up her waist and over her breasts.
He smirked as she moaned. “This is a beautiful dress.”
“Don’t stall.”
“All right, all right. One last time, mind.”
He then studied her as she leaned back on the desk again. “Does your boyfriend know you’re here?”
Nora laughed. “Yes. Don’t worry.”
He stood and leaned over, resting his hands beside hers, his face barely an inch away. He kissed her, and she resisted the urge to moan. Kissing him was hotter than she remembered.
Andreas ducked down and kissed her neck, biting lightly, his breath in her ear. Nora gripped the desk, sighing. He straightened, a hungry look on his face. He took her waist and lifted her onto the desk, hiked up her dress, wrapped her legs around him. Then he kissed her, hard, running his hand up her thigh, pushing her dress farther and farther up her legs.
Nora clung to him, her heart racing. He pulled away, grinning, and she leaned back. Andreas looked her over, his green eyes sparkling. He ran his hands up her waist, back to her chest, pulling her dress down and cupping her breasts. Nora let out a breath--she was trying to be quiet. She raised up, touching his face and kissing him roughly.
