by J. L. Ray
Getting the motorcycle out of the Vuitton tote bag entailed fewer issues than Tony had anticipated. Once she dug around and found the front wheel, she started pulling it out, and weirdly, though it looked full-sized as it came out and the bag didn’t look any different, the machine came out of the bag without ripping it in any way.
Tony sighed as she and Phil dropped the Harley Davidson Switchback to the ground, and she patted the bag. “I would never spend this kind of money on a designer tote, but it would be criminal to shred it,” she pointed out as Phil walked around the bright orange bike, looking it over and tugging on his beard as he admired it. “How the hell does that bag trick work?” As Phil started to reply, an evil grin on his face, she stopped him, “No, no, don’t say it. I know--it’s magic!” and she fluttered her hands in the air as she drew the word out. “I’ll try not to leave an opening a Mack truck could drive through if you’ll refrain from taking those openings when my mouth gets away from me.”
Phil’s grin raised its evil quotient a few more notches, “Oh my dear, I live to see your mouth get away from you. Preferably on me. Anywhere on me will do.”
Tony stared at him from under her brows. “I knew that I couldn’t bring my gun here, but this is the first time I actually regret that rule.”
“Temper, temper,” Phil murmured as he completed another circle around the bike. “Oh my. This is a work of art.” He squatted down to look at the engine more closely.
Tony shook her head, “Really? Stereotype much? Well, we’ll see if you still feel that way after you hear it for a while.” She reached into the tote and brought out two hybrid half helmets. One had pink decals and the other had blue. “Speaking of stereotypes, I wonder which is for who?”
“For whom.”
“Don’t be a grammar nerd. Here.”
“Blue is for girls,” he told her as she held out the wrong helmet.
“Huh?”
“Look at the sizes.”
“Ah, the pink one is for the Big Head.”
The grin came back, “So appropriate. You have no idea.”
“If you’ll quit with the truly cheap quips and get this show on the road, we can get back before the Geas kills you. We can get back to my gun. And then I can shoot you, maybe right in the Big Head.”
“I think you would consider it a work of art and feel it to be a criminal act to do such a thing.”
Phil ignored the raspberry Tony blew and climbed onto the seat. Then he waved his hand. Suddenly his ridiculously expensive jeans and button-down transmuted into black riding leather. Tony, still a little pissed, did her best not to give in to the drool-factor at the sight of him in all that tight, tasty leather. The biker gear could have looked silly, but his wicked face made it seem natural. He looked like a Hell’s Angels bad boy, only with cleaner, better groomed hair and a very modern colored bike. And no tats. Or scars. So basically, he looked like a Hollywood version of a bad boy. As he pulled his hair back and tied it up, she carefully slid onto the seat behind him, getting an eyeful of the way the leather pants hugged his perfect ass. She cleared her throat and told him, “I’m going to keep the robe out of your way and out of the bike engine by tucking it in between us.”
“Coward.”
“What?”
“Have you ever heard the term bundling?”
“Sure--before f-lights, information companies did that with the old Internet, and other, like, programmable information sources. Cell phones and such.”
“You are so young that it makes my face hurt.”
“What? What did you mean?”
He turned his head to look at her, “I referred to a courtship practice from several centuries ago.”
She winced, “That just lacks all that is sexy.”
“Ah, you’ve heard of it then?”
“No, I mean referring to your life in terms of centuries ago...now, how old are you?” She grinned when he turned his head back around and tossed his hair in a huff.
“Never mind. That robe certainly acts as a chaperone. I can hardly tell you are behind me.” Phil punched the electric starter. The bike roared to sudden life, and Tony gasped and clutched his waist. Luckily, she couldn’t see the smile on his face as he deliberate gunned the bike a little harder than necessary, throwing her against him again. “That’s better, “ he murmured to himself as they rolled down the tree-lined drive.
The ride to Agrat Bat Mahlat’s location passed as quietly as anything could that involved being on a Harley. As they got close to her territory, they tooled up a silvery path that was lined with rosy lights hung between golden poles resembling oversized candelabra. At the end of the silver path on which they rode sat a white marble building, obviously either modeled on the Greek Parthenon or, given the Beings they had come to investigate, the actual model for the one in Mundania.
Phil stopped at the front of the building, and as he cut the engine, they sat in ear-ringing silence.
“Now what?” Tony asked, suddenly reluctant to get off the machine she had been cursing under her breath for miles.
Phil turned his head and asked her, “What do you usually do?”
“Knock on doors, ask questions, take notes--good old-fashioned police work. But look,” she nodded at the building, “no doors.”
Phil smiled at her, and she dropped her arms from his waist as she suddenly realized that she was still holding him tightly. “I’ll knock in my own way,” he told her as she disentangled herself from him and slid off of the bike, careful to keep the robe away from the hot exhaust pipes. “Remember, when we are with her, she’ll see and hear only me as long as you don’t touch or talk to her and as long as I don’t talk to you.”
“Right.”
Phil got off the bike, but he didn’t change back to a suit. He began to walk up the steps to the column but paused and looked back when he realized that he was the only one moving. He looked at Tony and raised a brow.
“Just getting the robe settled,” she lied, mentally kicking herself for watching Phil’s truly world’s class ass instead of her own. Then she made shooing motions, “Go on, go on, right behind you,” she told him as she scooted up the steps after him.
He turned and continued up. When they reached the columns, he stopped and Tony just managed not to knock him down. The columns were wide, and between every other column stood a marble statue. Tony only had time to get a swift impression that each statue was unique when Phil acted. He held out a hand, palm flat and facing the interior of the building, then intoned, “I ask for a favor. May I have speech with Agrat Bat Mahlat, Queen of Illusion, Mother of Kings?”
For a moment, nothing happened. Then one of the marble statues began to move very stiffly from its stylized pose and walk robotically toward them. The statue, that of a young, handsome, naked, and ridiculously well-endowed male, stopped in front of them. “Agrat Bat Mahlat asks who calls her from her slumber?” the creature said to them, its voice that of a young man instead of the robotic tones Tony had expected based on its movement.
“Her old friend Mephistopheles comes bearing sad news for her.”
The statue tilted its head, the movement disturbingly alien from a thing that so resembled a human, yet was not. “She will come. You may wait here,” and suddenly, instead of standing in a version of the Parthenon, Tony looked around to find herself in a room that felt like it came from descriptions in The Arabian Nights. The marble floors were strewn with brightly colored pillows arranged around tables that suggested areas to gather in small groups. At the front of the room, two more statues flanked a large golden throne on which sat a regal figure. She turned a graceful arm and gestured at Phil.
“Come forward Mephistopheles, old friend, and tell me your news.”
Phil went forward and bowed in the manner of the Court of the Sun King, the Mundane one, and managed to pull that off despite the tight leather. Tony noticed that Queen Agrat seem to be enjoying the view from the front as much as she had the view from the back, but she kept her though
ts to herself. As Mephistopheles straightened, he looked into the face of one he had known for more than two thousand years. Agrat Bat Mahlat could well have passed for a woman younger than Tony. Her light brown skin showed no wrinkles at all. She smiled at Phil and gestured to her feet, “Sit by me my friend, and tell me why you are here.”
Phil shook one finger at her admonishingly, “Now my dear Agrat, we two have been around the block more than a few hundred years together. My days of sitting at your feet ended in the last epoch.”
Agrat Bat Mahlat pouted, her lips full and luscious. She dipped her head down and looked up at him, her brown eyes framed by long thick lashes, her thick, tightly curling black hair shielding her face in a calculated pose so that she had to toss her head and shake her hair back to see better. Safe in her look-away spelled hair cloak, Tony rolled her eyes as Agrat pouted, “So surly and mean to me. I just want those beautiful lips closer to my--”
He broke in kindly, “My dear, this isn’t really a social call. And you know I am not allowed enough time in this world to come even close to doing justice to the Glory that is your wonderful--”
This time she interrupted him, and her languorous posing and seductive phrasing disappeared, replaced with a brisk, pragmatic demeanor. “Whatever, darling. If you don’t want it, you don’t. What is so important that you risk death to come here to me when all you come here to do is to see me, to talk to me, and nothing more interesting?” She lifted a brow and ran a hand down her body to make sure he caught her full meaning.
Phil resisted the urge to gauge Tony’s reaction to the comment. He could feel Tony’s attraction to him and had hoped she was more than a bit jealous of the Beings who kept making it clear that his past with them went a lot deeper than friendship. And wetter. He worried about that list they were here to pursue. Agrat was the least objectionable of his prior associations in Fairie. However, since he could not change his past, no matter how Tony reacted to it, he had to hope he could move her past anything that pissed her off too much. The thought of losing her interest had become distasteful. Of course, the thought of dying because of a misunderstanding from the Geas was also distasteful. He sighed.
“Queen Agrat, I come to tell you of the death of one of your sister Queens.”
Agrat Bat Mahlat paled and leaned forward, focused entirely on Mephistopheles. “WHO?” she demanded, her voice taking on the echoing roundness that Tony associated with the GOOEN squad. “WHO is dead in that awful land?”
“Lilith.”
Agrat Bat Mahlat leaned back in her throne. Her body sank in on itself as if the news had pulled the air from her lungs. She looked down at her hands, turning the palms up, and suddenly her hands, her entire body began to change. She aged decades before their eyes.
Phil leaned forward and grabbed one of her hands, “Dear Queen, are you all right?”
She turned now rheumy eyes set in sunken sockets to him. “This news makes me want to feel my age. I want to feel the years and believe that she lived a long and happy life.” She shook her head slowly. “A long life, I can attest to. Happy, well, that I do not think that possible. Leave me.”
Tony worked up her courage and spoke to Phil. Despite having not once been acknowledged by the Queen, she couldn’t quite believe that only Phil could see her or hear her. She realized that she couldn’t leave all of the questioning to him. It was her job, not his. “We can’t leave until you ask her a couple of questions. Can you manage that and keep your clothes on? Or are you gonna have to get in a quickie to keep the conversation going?”
Phil just managed to choke back a response. He hoped that was jealously talking, but truly, Agrat was distraught. Agrat heard the choking sound and looked up at Phil. “You have delivered your news. You may leave now,“ she told him more forcefully, and as she said so, the two marble statues to each side, those of twins, large, male, imposingly muscular, and, of course, imposingly naked, came forward as if to move Phil along.
“Tell her it was murder. Ask her when she last saw or talked to the vic.”
Phil held out a hand in supplication to Agrat Bat Mahlat, “Please, I must ask you some questions first. May I?”
She grimaced, then waved the statues back. At that moment, she transformed physically back to the beautiful temptress who had first greeted them, rather than the ancient crone she had become in her grief.
“Geez. She got over that pretty fast.”
Phil kept his face as still as he could. His darling Tony would get them both killed if he didn’t. Agrat Bat Mahlat’s ability to control her legendary temper had not improved very much with age when last he knew her. He had to assume some rules of the universe were a constant.
“Why do you wish to ask me questions?” Agrat asked him.
“Lilith was murdered,” he told her.
Behind him he heard Tony say, “Okay, I can’t be sure because I can’t fully read her reaction, but my gut tells me she didn’t know. Her face didn’t change, but her body flinched.”
Agrat told Phil carefully, “You may ask me three questions.”
“Oh crap. Rule of three. Okay, okay. First, have her describe the last time she spoke to or saw Lilith. What happened and what did they discuss?”
Phil repeated the wording closely, noting that Tony had worked in a statement and then phrased the question as something open-ended to get the most information.
Agrat Bat Mahlat looked at Mephistopheles and then off to the wall on her right, and her hand went to her mouth as she did her best to sound as old and feeble as she had looked a few minutes ago. “It is hard to remember.”
She paused for a bit as if to think, and Tony murmured, “Bullshit. She may be feeding us a line here.”
Then Agrat continued, “We were at Lilith’s palace, near Yamora. This was, oh, when Asmodeus had just ascended to his own throne here in this realm. Roughly 2,000 years ago in Mundane time.” Phil heard Tony gasp. “Actually, that’s give or take a few centuries, I suppose.” She rubbed her perfect forehead and looked up at Phil, “You know how it is, trying to pull details from so long ago. Things that seem like they happened last week actually happened several hundred years ago. And unpleasant things...well, one does try to let go.” She sighed and continued. “Lilith was living in the Mundane lands, but she came back for the ceremony. Asmodeus was going through that hero-worship period over Sammeal, so he invited him to be in the ceremony and,” she paused again, her hand came down from her lips, “you know what a centaur’s ass that creature can be. He created quite a disturbance at the feast afterward over Lilith’s latest lover, a Sphinx.”
Phil heard Tony breathe out, “The Lieutenant!” behind him, but he concentrated on watching Agrat as she talked.
Agrat gave Phil a rueful look, “I’m afraid I was not any better than Sammeal about harassing her. Maybe if she had taken up with a darker Sphinx, but the one she was fucking was such a do-gooder. It made my teeth ache to even see him. I’m sorry to say that the last time I saw her, I tried to seduce her myself just to get her to come home. And when she turned me down, I encouraged Sammeal to go after her.” She shook her head. “She never came back to this realm after that. I think my,“ she paused then spat out the word, “support for Sammeal’s attack, and no matter what he says, it was an attack, well, it ended our relationship for good. She never spoke to me again, even when I could still visit Asmodeus in Mundania.” Her lips twisted. “Where my stupid little boy is still stuck and can’t even visit his mother.”
Mephistopheles refrained from pointing out that her little boy was a millennia old demon with a penchant for mayhem and a head count to show for it over the years of his life. The Geas obviously kept him away from the power surge of Fairie for good reasons.
“What is your second question?” she asked.
Phil heard Tony behind him, “She was lying in part of that last answer. I’m not sure, but I think she probably did see or hear from Lilith again. Push her on that.”
Phil grimaced, trying to think abou
t phrasing that wouldn’t cause the Queen of Illusions to lose her epically bad temper. Because that would lead to “bad things” and they had a sufficient supply of those already.
“Do you even have another question?” Agrat asked, impatient.
“My sweet, I was overcome with sadness by the rift between you and Lilith. Had you heard no more of her from anyone else after that, not even from your sister Queens?” Phil finessed his follow up question and was rewarded with the sound of Tony muttering, “Well done. She’s a tricksy little madame.” Phil thought to himself, “You have no idea, child.”
The Madame in question tossed her head again, seemingly put out despite Phil’s deft handling of the question. “I suppose I did hear a rumor here, a bit of news there.” She stared at Phil, “You know how immortal beings love to gossip. What else is there to do after so many centuries? Even fucking gets old, eventually.”
“Dude.” Tony spoke in a hushed whisper. “No one should live so long.”
Phil managed to hold on to a bark of laughter, not only because he had had centuries of practice, but because he had experienced Agrat’s temper more than once. Gently he pressed her, “What rumors or news came to you, my Queen?”
“I should count that as your third question. I suppose that I still have to answer you.” She looked thoughtful. “I heard she broke up with the Sphinx, what was his name, oh yes, Azeem. I think that Sammeal hurt her and she did not recover quickly.” She looked down at her hands. “I also heard, over the years, that she became very withdrawn, that she broke away from the fae community in Mundania even before the Geas, before the Great Change. She closed herself off and lived as a recluse, even foregoing sex like those bizarre religious fanatics in that world.”
“Does she mean nuns? Damn. That’s cold.”
Phil managed to ignore Tony’s comment, but noted that he would have to have a little talk with her before the next interview, just as a safety precaution. She didn’t seem to appreciate just how close to the edge they were walking in this conversation. As powerful as Mephistopheles was and as long as he had lived, Agrat Bat Mahlat was older, more powerful, and pretty much a total psychotic. It had put a real damper on his relationship with her a few thousand years ago, and he had never felt the least urge to look up his old flame. He focused his attention back on the headcase in front of him as she suddenly volunteered more information.
