by Vox Day
She thought Christopher was shaking his head, disagreeing with her, until she realized he was only shivering. A light, icy rain had begun to fall, and she’d been too absorbed in their conversation to notice. Christopher hadn’t either, and she was willing to bet he’d forgotten he had a jacket draped over his arm.
“Oh, put your coat on, you idiot! You’ll freeze!”
“Oh, yeah, thanks,” he said lamely, as he slipped it on and quickly zipped it up. “Man, it’s cold out here! Wasn’t it about fifty degrees warmer, like, two days ago?”
“I hate March. It’s the worst.”
Christopher made a face and stuck his hands in his pockets.
“I know you’re right, but here’s the thing that gets me. There was this movie on the other night; it wasn’t very good, but it made me think about us.”
“What movie?”
“You wouldn’t know it. It was a remake of an old Heinlein novel, Starship Troopers, but that’s not the point—”
“Wasn’t Denise Richards in that?” Jami interrupted him.
“Who?”
“Dark hair, pretty, big chest, can’t act.”
“Oh, her. Yeah, that’s the one. Anyhow, the movie wasn’t very good, and I think the costume designer had some kind of fascist fetish or something, but it got one thing just perfect. Everybody, from the highest general all the way down to the kids, knew that there was a war going on, and that it was something to take seriously. And then here we are in a war that’s got eternal implications, I mean, we’re talking about people losing their souls, not just their lives, and yet it barely affects us at all! We act like nothing’s happening! Not most of the time, anyhow.”
Jami nodded, but inwardly she was cringing a little. A similar line of thought had crossed her mind from time to time, but she’d always been able to distract herself and avoid thinking about it. Maybe they were supposed to be Christian warriors now, but except for going to church once or twice a week, their lives hadn’t really changed all that much from before.
Her face must have been showing her chagrin, because her brother patted her on the shoulder.
“Look, I really didn’t mean to go off on anyone tonight. It’s just that I was sitting there listen to everyone spin their wheels, and I suddenly realized, hey, that’s exactly what I’m doing, which is basically nothing. But the worst thing is that they’ve got an excuse. I don’t.”
Jami studied Christopher’s face. It was the same as it always was, thin and winter-pale, marred by a reddish band of acne that crossed the bridge of his nose. But his brown eyes, half-hidden behind his long bangs, looked older than they should. It was as if someone had stolen his own eyes from him and replaced them with those of a haunted stranger. It made her feel sad. What had they seen, in that other place, that had changed him this way?
“You know, Christopher, one of these days we’ve really got to talk about what happened to you back there.”
“Back then,” he corrected her, then pushed her towards their green Explorer, which was parked three cars down. “I know, we probably should, but there’s some things I don’t want to think about right now, okay? Much less talk about.”
The lights flashed and there was a loud clicking noise as the doors unlocked themselves at their approach. Christopher pulled the keys from his pocket and they each opened their own door.
“So what do you think we should be doing?” she asked, as she clambered up onto the seat on the passenger’s side.
Christopher started the engine, then leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know, sis, I don’t know. But I know one thing.”
He waggled his Bible as he reached back and tossed it gently onto the back seat.
“I know where to look.”
Melusine watched nervously as the white-haired old man breathed his last in front of her. The freezing temperature did not bother her in the least, although her meager attire would have been more suitable for Maui than Minnesota at this time of year, at least if she’d been human. But she wasn’t human, and her black-feathered wings and slender, snaky tail would surely have attracted a good deal of attention on the beaches of Hawaii. Or anywhere, for that matter.
But right now, attention was the last thing Melusine sought. In fact, she was doing her best to keep the large, horned mass of Ar-Balazel between her and the giant black-skinned archangel who was holding the dying man in his muscular arms. Tears of grief streaked the guardian’s face as he whispered reassuring words of comfort to the man. The old man did not speak, and his lips did not move, but Melusine felt the silent echo of his final praise to Heaven’s King rip through her spirit like an electric shock.
The unpleasant sensation was only momentary, and as it faded, she saw the guardian laying his mortal charge’s lifeless, empty vessel down gently onto the cold asphalt of the parking lot. Melusine cringed as the archangel dashed away tears from his dark face with one hand and reached for the giant sword he’d dropped with the other. That sword had already cut down Gezerael, the mordrim who’d instigated the old man’s heart attack, and judging by the fire in the Divine angel’s grief-stricken eyes, he wasn’t the only Fallen who was going to feel its bite tonight.
“You have won no victory here!” the big guardian shouted, pointing his sword at Balazel. “You thought to destroy him, but already he stands in glory before the Lord Most High!”
The powerful archdemon did not trouble to argue with the angry angel, instead, he spread his hands in open defeat and ducked his horned head in a gesture of submission.
“It was within my authority to pursue him, Ar-Shakael, you must admit that. This is within the Prince Bloodwinter’s demesne. But his soul has escaped me, and the victory is yours.”
“The victory is not mine, it belongs to Him who sits on the throne.” The Divine angel sheathed his weapon, but his grieving rage was undimmed. “And to the Lamb!”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Balazel conceded easily. “Whatever you say. But this battle is over now, isn’t it? Go find some of your white-winged friends, and you can all sing praises for the safety of your blessed mortal’s soul all night long.”
Melusine quietly breathed a sigh of relief as Shakael nodded slowly.
“I will do just that, Balazel. And though you are graceless and defeated, I will say a prayer for your spirit as well.” He started to turn away, then stopped and turned back to face the two Fallen angels. “When you next see Gezerael, tell him I have forgiven him, but I have not forgotten.”
And with those ominous words, the archangel leaped into the sky, arcing heavenward like a shooting star in reverse.
Balazel shook his head as they watched the Divine angel depart. “I thought he’d never leave.”
“Yeah, well, I thought he’d take us out,” Melusine hissed, more than a little irritated at the other demon. Balazel had risked much by taunting the archangel, and for all his great power, his style was far too risky for her liking. Still, the way he’d choreographed the mortal’s end had been rather amusing, she admitted to herself, at least it was now that they were safe. “Oh, did you see the look in his eyes when he realized what Gezerael had done?”
“I did indeed,” Balazel snorted. “His agony was exquisite. Sheer poetry! I didn’t think poor Shaka would lose it like that, but those Divine fools never see the whole picture.”
Melusine nodded. “They always get wrapped up with their little trees and forget about the forest, as it were. How many more lives do you hunt here, Baron?”
“Four, but only two of them are of real import.”
Balazel sounded relaxed, so Melusine was taken by surprise when he suddenly reached out and seized her face with one horny hand. She gasped and tried to pull away, but it was no use, the demonic baron’s grasp was far too strong. He squeezed her cheeks uncomfortably hard, grinding them painfully against her teeth as he leaned towards her, whispering softly and deliberately into her ear.
“And you, my lovely temptress, must keep your little bo
y out of my way, understand? If he interferes just once, I’ll add him to the list. Understand me? And if that costs you his soul, I’ll be sure you pay the price!”
Chapter 2
Those Who Stalk the Night
The great purpose of school can be realized better in dark, airless, ugly places…. it is to master the physical self, to transcend the beauty of nature. School should develop the power to withdraw from the external world.
—William Torrey Harris, The Philosophy of Education
The last bell rang, and Brien Henry slipped his heavy economics textbook into his backpack with some relief. Econ was mostly for brain-dead idiots who couldn’t figure out how to balance a checkbook, but it was required for graduation so he was forced to suffer through it. It wasn’t always that bad, though; the fantasy stock market game had been fun and he’d found some pleasure in trouncing his classmates, turning his five thousand dollars of fake money into nine thousand three hundred by the end of the month. Even Miss Beverly had been impressed, since the second-place contestant had only managed to gain an additional two thousand on her investments.
Also, Econ was the only class he had with Tessa Fenchurch. She wasn’t one of the in-crowd, her sandy-brown hair was straight and unpretentious, and her features were too sharp to be what most guys considered pretty, but Brien had secretly harbored a crush on her since she’d transferred to Mounds Park two years ago. Her father was into some kind of international business, and her family had been living in England for a while before they’d moved back to North Oaks. Tessa lived less than four miles from him, and they’d even ridden the same school bus in tenth grade, but in three years, he hadn’t said much more than ‘hi’ to her. But every day, he surreptitiously admired her and planned what he might say to her after class, plotting a hundred different ways that he would ask her out.
And this Friday was just like every other day, for as the bell rang, his courage deserted him and he shuffled out of the classroom with only four people in between them. Instead of heading straight for his locker, which was on the north side of Senior Hall, he followed her down the stairs that led to the cafeteria. Her locker was on the south side, but this longer route was quicker since it avoided the crush of people filling the Hall, and she took it almost every day.
Brien walked slowly, allowing Tessa to pull away from him. He stopped at the soda machine, inserted his money, and pushed the Sprite button. He popped the top on the ice-cold can and sipped at it, enjoying the sweet, crackling taste of the clear soda as it trickled down his throat, then continued on through the cafeteria. Making his way past the small lockers belonging to the sophomores who crowded the stairs was no problem, and he saw that his timing had been perfect again as he reached the top step. Tessa had already opened her locker and was facing him as she returned her Econ book to the neat, light blue-papered shelves that organized her storage space.
Their eyes met briefly. Tessa’s were hazel, a little on the narrow side and undecorated by any makeup, but they opened a bit wider as recognition sparked in them. Brien smiled, nodded slightly, and was rewarded with a friendly greeting.
“Oh, hi, Brien.”
Her voice was kind of flat and high-pitched, but to Brien, hearing his name on her lips magically transformed her voice into that of an angel. He found that he couldn’t speak, he only nodded again, and, in sudden embarrassment, looked down. For one stricken moment, he felt trapped, as if his beating heart was exposed for everyone around them to see. Then he was past her, and the awful feeling was gone, replaced by a wonderful sense of exhilaration. Not only had she said ‘hi’ to him, but she’d even said his name too! Ten minutes ago, Brien wouldn’t have bet a whole lot on her even knowing what it was.
He took a deep breath and stood up straighter as he walked past the clusters of girls in excited conversation about the inevitable Friday night parties and groups of guys plotting to buy beer for the weekend.
“No, seriously, I know this dude,” he heard one boy say. “His brother will….”
He never learned what the brother would do, as his path next took him past a loud, annoying brunette with a vicious look on her face.
“Don’t you dare tell Kathy about it!”
He idly wondered what it was that Kathy could not know. Probably a party, or maybe the black-haired girl had been messing around with Kathy’s boyfriend. He froze for a second, and the heady, happy feeling abruptly deserted him when he saw Kent Peterson laughing at a joke someone was telling. His avid tormentor since the ninth grade, Kent wasn’t very big, but what he lacked in height, he more than made up for in meanness. He was close now, less than ten feet away from Brien. Alarmed, Brien looked down to avoid meeting the other boy’s eyes and slipped behind the steroid-built bulk of a football player, then shoved his way past two girls packing their homework into backpacks. He felt his backpack bump into one of them, but he did not dare to stop and apologize.
“Hey!” the girl protested.
“Sorry,” Brien muttered under his breath, and then he was past her, out of Kent’s sight and out of danger. He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached his locker and rapidly spun the combination dial. 34-16-35. It was an easy combo, and he could do it quickly, thank goodness. He didn’t want to linger too long at his locker, just in case Kent and his posse of soccer buddies were looking for someone to beat on.
But even as he hurried, the fear of being bullied passed quickly from his mind. Even the thought of Kent couldn’t keep him down for long, as his imagination spun a romantic fantasy of how he would drop by Tessa’s house tonight, and invite her out to a fancy restaurant for dinner on Friday. Tessa would be surprised and flattered, and then, when he confessed over candlelight that he’d been in love with her since their sophomore year, she would blush, smile shyly, and then admit that she, too, had been harboring feelings for him….
“Hey, Bry, whas’sup?”
Derek Wallace’s reedy voice intruded on his romantic daydream, and he turned around reluctantly.
“What?” he demanded.
“What do you mean, what. As of today, it’s officially six weeks to graduation. Twenty-eight working days, dude!”
Derek was a tall, skinny boy with white skin, long black hair, and a thin, sensitive face cursed with a bad complexion. He was Brien’s only real friend at Mounds Park. He raised his hand expectantly and Brien dutifully slapped it.
“And then we’re out of this fucking hellhole. College will be so much cooler than this! At least we won’t be surrounded by losers and idiots all the time.”
And jocks, Brien added mentally. Let them be damned to their community colleges and vo-tech schools forever! They could keep their stupid memories of their glory days here, because once he got off the waiting list at Northwestern, he had it made. The guidance counselor had assured him that with his SAT scores, it was only a matter of time before he was accepted. It’s all right, it’s okay, he thought savagely to himself. You can work for me someday!
“So what are you doing tonight?” Derek asked him, placing his hands together in an odd manner.
Brien looked around to see if anyone was watching, then inverted his right hand and placed his fingertips against his left palm, as he held up his pinky and index finger. It was the secret sign of La Nottambuli, the fantastic guild of darkness of Derek’s imagination to which they both belonged. The gesture was an invitation, and Brien had signaled his acceptance by returning it. Derek didn’t have to tell him where the gathering would take place; it wasn’t necessary. There was only one meeting place for those who stalked the night. His dream date with Tessa would have to wait for another time.
Jami sneaked a peek at the back of her textbook, and groaned when she realized her answer was wrong again. According to the answer key, the mysterious X, for no good reason that she could see, was four, not three. I hate math! It’s so stupid! And quadratic equations were the absolute worst, that was for sure. Chewing with frustration on the end of her pencil, she sank back into the cushy corner of t
he couch and glared at the book from a safe distance.
It didn’t help that Christopher was walking through the room every five minutes as if he was in a hurry to go somewhere. But he never left, he just kept marching in and out of the family room, until she was about ready to sharpen her pencil and stick it in his ear. Holli had been sitting on the kitchen talking on the phone for the last twenty minutes, with someone from school from what Jami had overheard, but she was used to hearing her twin’s voice and so it didn’t bother her as much as Christopher’s annoying interruptions.
Christopher marched in again, and Jami had finally had enough of it.
“Knock it off!” she cried, leaping off the couch and brandishing her pencil at him.
Her brother blinked and stepped back. He didn’t look deep in thought anymore, now he just looked surprised. Surprised and a little alarmed. She and Holli had finally managed to talk him into cleaning himself up a bit over the last three months, and his hair no longer fell over his eyes like a sheepdog with split ends, but there were times like this when she was convinced they’d taken on a hopeless task. Sometimes, she thought, he was just weird, and there wasn’t anything they could do about it.
“Huh?” he said finally, like an idiot.
“What do you mean, huh?” she replied angrily. “I’m trying to get my homework done, and you’ve been walking in and out of here all night like some kind of psycho cuckoo clock that can’t tell time! Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Christopher nodded in apparent understanding.
“Oh, yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” He rubbed at his eyes. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
Huh? Okay, now she was the confused one.
“I don’t get it.”
“That’s just the point. Remember what we were talking about after Bible study last Tuesday? We’re supposed to be warriors.” Christopher punched his palm. “So we should be doing something, not just sitting around the house like three kids in high school!”
