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The World in Shadow (Eternal Warriors Book 2)

Page 11

by Vox Day


  Paulus exchanged a surprised look with Incandazael, but before either angel said anything, Mariel freed herself from Aliel and tried to get in her face.

  “You tried to kill him!” The Divine angel was angrier than Melusine had ever seen her before. “You broke the Concordat! You possessed that poor man and used him to try and kill them. I had every right to go after you, and I still do!”

  What in the secret seventh name of the sun, moon, and stars was she jabbering about? Melusine had always thought that Mariel wasn’t quite altogether upstairs. Now, the little cow appeared to have sailed completely off the deep end.

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” she corrected her rival. “That Slayer did, and she didn’t just try, either. I think she blew out half his brain with the stroke she laid on him.”

  For some reason, her words seemed to astonish Mariel. She stared blankly at Melusine, her green eyes even more clueless than usual.

  “Ah, Melusine, Christopher’s sleeping in his room,” Aliel told her. “He’s not dead.”

  “Of course he’s not dead,” Incandazael said, sounding irritated. “And why would Melusine try to kill him anyhow? She’s not completely stupid.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Melusine told the Tempter drily. “And who said anything about Christopher. I was talking about Father Keane.”

  “Father Keane?” All four angels chorused in surprised unison.

  “They took him out?” added Incandazael. “Tonight?”

  “Yeah, there was quite the fireworks down at the Catholic Church tonight,” Melusine explained, enjoying the stunned expression on the others’ faces, and most particularly the confused worry she saw now dawning on Mariel’s. “You’ll hear all about it soon enough, I guess. The point is, I was quite occupied with watching the good Father depart this mortal coil, and I’m starting to suspect that I’ve been falsely accused of something, although I’m not sure what.”

  She cocked a slender eyebrow at Mariel.

  “So, what is it, exactly, that you think I did.”

  “Well, someone did it,” the angel protested defensively. “Don’t pretend you don’t know! Someone sicced a Nihil on a drunk man and tried to make him smash into Christopher when he was driving home tonight. Jami was in the car with him, and they both would have died if I hadn’t warned him to pull off the road!”

  Still harboring her suspicions of Melusine, her green eyes narrowed.

  “And you weren’t here, so I knew it had to be you.”

  Melusine laughed in the angel’s face, which was still marked by her claws.

  “Mariel, could you be any dumber?” She ticked off points on her fingers. “First of all, and unlike you, I’m not an idiot. Second, I don’t want Christopher dead, as you, of all angels, should know. Third, I was at St. Cecilia’s tonight, like I said, and fourth, there’s about, what, five million Fallen in this principality alone, and any one of them might have taken a crack at him.”

  But even as she spoke, she was worrying about what she’d just learned. Even Balazel, the outsider, knew Christopher was off the death list. She’d lied about the other Fallen, most of whom wouldn’t even think of daring to raise a hand against the boy. He was shielded against them, so who would be crazy enough to go after him now? Prince Bloodwinter would be furious, not to mention other, even more powerful spirits whose names she didn’t even dare to think to herself.

  “Well, isn’t this interesting?” Incandazael smiled, his teeth gleaming whitely against his dark face. “Mariel, I really think you should tell Melusine you’re sorry. Don’t you agree, Paulus?”

  Mariel’s eyes blazed at the Tempter’s provocative words, but Melusine waved him off before her rival could open her mouth and say something that would make her lose her train of thought. Mariel was right about one thing. Someone had tried to kill Christopher and Jami, but who? As she thought about the possibilities, she kept returning to one eminently probable suspect.

  “Like I care what she has to say.” It wasn’t as if she was going to accept an apology anyhow. “But tell me one thing. Was Avarael here tonight?”

  Aliel, the Tempter’s longtime foe, nodded. Good, that made things a little easier to sort out.

  “And Pandaema?”

  “No, she wasn’t.” Paulus shook his head, and looked at her curiously. “You can’t think that she’d try to harm Jami now. That makes no sense!”

  Melusine shrugged. She didn’t think so either, but then again, she’d been wrong before. People did things that weren’t in their best interests all the times, and strangely enough, so did angels. Of course, unlike their charges, most Tempters didn’t usually do anything this blatantly stupid. What was going on around here? First the attacks, then the deal with Jami, and now this. Events were spiraling out of control, but was it possible that someone was just arranging things to look that way? It was impossible for her to tell, but she was starting to suspect that Balazel was somehow involved in all this, considering that the recent chaos had only begun after the archdemon had arrived in the Cities, mysterious and alone.

  “I didn’t say it did, Paulus.” She raised her wings, which had healed rapidly so they were once again whole, and allowed the wind to ruffle their black feathers. The night breeze felt lovely and cool as it flowed through them, erasing the lingering memory of their recent burning.

  “Oh, and Mariel?”

  “What?”

  Melusine swung her arm as hard and as fast as she could, taking Mariel completely by surprise as she slapped her across the face with an open hand. The Divine angel cried out and stumbled sideways, almost losing her balance as she staggered into the hard brick of the chimney. She raised her hands to her face, but not before Melusine saw a satisfyingly red handprint marking the Guardian’s white skin.

  The other two Guardians hissed, but neither Paulus nor Aliel made any move to intervene and Melusine had no intention of waiting around to listen to their outraged protests. She leaped off the rooftop in a graceful backflip, then stroked her wings and flew upside-down towards the south, towards the lights of the city, grinning triumphantly as the throaty sound of Incandazael’s laughter floated behind her on the dark winds of the night.

  First Avenue was crowded, especially considering that it was a Sunday night. The mortal crowd seemed younger than usual, and she wondered if it was an all-ages night or if the steroid-enhanced monsters checking ID’s at the door were simply more lax than usual this evening. The music was frenetic and full of energy, accompanied by a blinding array of colored lights that flashed and strobed madly across the pulsating bodies that filled the dance floor.

  “Hey, Melusine,” a cloud of red mist that had been swirling amidst the dancers coalesced in front of her, and a tall, attractive angel stepped out of it. He was clothed only in a charming smile, and his green eyes were glazed over with vacant hunger. “I found this little girl who’s whacked out of her mind on something or other. Utterly zonked! Come on, let’s ride her and see if we can make her do anything interesting!”

  Melusine laughed. Sessarael was one of her favorite lust demons. His specialty was young women, and he preyed on them with single-minded focus of a starving dog.

  “Thanks, Sessa, but I’m looking for someone. Have you seen an archangel called Balazel anywhere? He’s not from around here, and he’s big, with kind of a grayish-blue aura.”

  The lust demon blinked, surprised, and his vacuous eyes almost managed to focus on her for a second.

  “Balazel? You’d better stay away from that bad boy. They say he tore up a couple of death-angels last night!”

  Melusine rolled her eyes. By next week, no doubt the story would be going around that the archdemon had single-handedly foiled a major insurrection against Prince Bloodwinter. Either that, or he’d started one. Gossip was not only a mortal vice.

  “That’s him.”

  Sessarael threw up his hands.

  “Okay, but I don’t see what you want with him. He doesn’t sound like a good time to me. Sure you don’t want to
come party instead?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Melusine folded her arms. Sessarael was starting to annoy her. “Now, where is he?”

  The handsome demon pointed upstairs.

  “He’s upstairs, over in the corner. Everybody’s afraid to go near him. Don’t blame them.”

  “Who would?” Melusine agreed. Instead of thanking him, she ran one finger slowly down his bare chest. “And have fun. Maybe next time.”

  The demon’s eyes flared hungrily and he smiled even as his body began to fade back into translucence. Moments later, there was only a red cloud in front of her, swaying and swirling provocatively to the rhythm of the furious beat. Then Sessarael disappeared amidst the crowd of mortals, urgently seeking his unsuspecting victim.

  The stairs were dark and empty, except for a depressed-looking girl smoking a cigarette on the bottom step and a young couple exchanging furiously quiet words on the landing in the middle of the staircase. As Melusine approached them, she saw that the heavily pierced young man appeared to be trying to kiss the girl, who also sported copious facial metal, but to no avail.

  Oh, come on, honey. Get with the program! Melusine lashed the girl with a vivid jolt of sensual desire as she walked past her. The girl responded with an audible sigh and began to stare at the boy with eyes suddenly grown dreamy and heavy-lidded. By the time she reached the top of the stairs, the two were locked in a clinch that would have required a bolt of lightning to separate them. Or a large magnet, she thought wryly.

  Once upstairs, it wasn’t hard to find Lord Balazel. He sat by himself in the far corner of the room, sipping lightly at a half-filled wine glass that appeared to be at great risk in his fat, unwieldy hands. Both the nearby angels and mortals were doing their best to ignore him, as in the material world, he looked like nothing so much as an oversized serial killer. His head was bald, three chins sagged around the base of his neck like a terraced hill, and his dark, beady eyes looked mean and petty.

  Melusine had to resist the urge to giggle at him as she bowed respectfully before him. The archdemon was a brute, there was no question about that, but she knew he was far more intelligent than his appearance suggested tonight. Perhaps he was slumming and looking for amusement? Melusine reflected on the hideous image of Kaeli-Thugal’s back and wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake in coming here. You never knew what horror might pass for an archdemon’s amusement.

  “No, you don’t.” Balazel told her, reading her mind again. “But you haven’t made a mistake. I came because I knew you’d arrive eventually. Here, perhaps you’d be more comfortable if I took a different form.”

  In an instant, the scene before her changed. In the place of the big, piggish man sat a slender, well-groomed man with a very thin mustache wearing an Italian suit. The shirt collar was fashionably broad, and spread to expose a silk tie of outrageously vivid colors. Only the wine glass, and the beady eyes that now lurked behind a pair of round wire spectacles remained the same.

  “Is this better?”

  Melusine shrugged.

  “The Saloon is down the street and around the corner. I think the raving flamer look might go over a little better down there.”

  “Indeed?” The delicate man arched his plucked eyebrows. “Very well.”

  And once again, the massive serial killer sat before her. The archdemon waved a thick, stubby-fingered hand towards a nearby chair, and it slid across the floor, coming to a rest immediately behind her. She nodded her thanks and sat, leaning back to keep her nose a healthy distance from the sour, sweaty odor that she realized was emanating from the demon.

  “Do you have to do that?” she complained.

  “I believe in a holistic approach to an Aspect. I derive a certain aesthetic pleasure from the artistry involved in the construction of the whole.”

  Aesthetic? Melusine winced. The acrid smell was making her eyes tear up. Anesthetic was more like it.

  “Well, okay.” She gave in resignedly. It wasn’t wise to argue with a demonic Baron, after all. “But how did you know I’d come here?”

  “Because I assumed you’d want to find me after you learned that Pandaema tried to kill Christopher and Jami Lewis.”

  Melusine started.

  “You know that? I mean, are you sure that’s what happened?” She paused and thought for a moment. “And you’re sure it was Pandaema? I was starting to suspect her, but why would she want Jami dead? That doesn’t make any sense. She’s the one on the hook for the girl, after all”

  “You’re not one for intrigue, are you, little Melusine.” The Baron smiled, exposing several missing teeth. “Didn’t you realize that Pandaema blames you for losing Jami? I imagine that after the disaster of last night, she’s been trying to figure out how to make you take the blame for the loss of the girl’s soul as well as Christopher’s. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she’s been planning this for some time now.”

  “How do you know so much about her?” she protested. “You’re not even from around here!”

  The archdemon was making a lot of sense, though, now that she thought about it. Pandaema had been acting strangely of late, but Melusine hadn’t paid much attention to her comings and goings. But the demoness had been more than a little secretive, and almost unfriendly. Still, it didn’t seem possible that the Baron could be so well-informed. She wished she knew what he was really doing here.

  “I make it my business to know everything about that household. You know that I have plans in this place, and I do not wish anything to interrupt them, least of all a minor squabble among Temptresses.”

  “Hey, I’m not trying to cause you any trouble.” Melusine couldn’t quite keep the thought of flayed skin from entering her mind. Yeouch! She tried to direct the conversation towards safer subjects. “But how could Pandaema think she’d get away with it, then?”

  Lord Balazel raised an eyebrow and waved a stumpy finger at her.

  “A good question. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  He placed his hands together, muttered a spell that Melusine recognized as a summoning, then rapidly pulled them apart. There was a tearing sound, a bright flash of light, and then Pandaema herself was standing at Melusine’s left side.

  She was shorter than was usual for an angel, with a broad face and spiky red hair. Pandaema wasn’t beautiful, but, Melusine had to admit, she carried herself well, and her dark eyes were spectacular. The Temptress wore a sleeveless black dress that was cut high to show off her athletic legs, and her wings were an unusual shade of red that complimented her hair.

  She also looked uncertain, which was quite natural considering how abruptly Balazel had snatched her from wherever she’d been. Melusine noted that the Temptress glanced at her with what almost appeared to be relief, then eyed the archdemon with a dubious suspicion that was, in Melusine’s opinion, quite justified. She wrinkled her nose. Holistic? As Christopher’s sisters often said, what-ever!

  “I know her,” Pandaema told the Baron with a note of bravado in her voice. “So who are you?”

  “I am the archangel Balazel,” the huge demon explained, leering at the Temptress’ legs. “You may address me as ‘Baron’.”

  Pandaema’s mouth formed the shape of an O, and she quickly bowed before the Baron. When she straightened up, her dark eyes were calculating, and when she glanced at Melusine again, there was no sign of her previous relief.

  “To what do I owe the honor of this summoning, Baron?”

  “I’m just interested in you, little one. I’m trying to understand why you thought you could kill your charge, lose her soul, and yet somehow escape suffering the consequences.”

  Pandeama held herself very still, as Balazel licked his lips with a grotesquely swollen tongue that closely resembled an obscene sausage. It was not a pleasant sight. Melusine shivered, but she didn’t dare to look away. There were dangerous vibes in the air now, and she wasn’t the only one to notice them. Several of the lesser angels mingling around the bar began to edge their way to
wards the stairs.

  “I’m also wondering how you’ll taste when I devour your spirit!”

  Incredibly, Pandaema didn’t even blink at the archdemon’s open threat. Melusine herself was almost ready to shift into the immaterial and fly right through the walls of the building, but the diminuitive Temptress, to her surprise, showed no sign of fear whatsoever. She simply folded her arms and grinned contemptuously at Balazel.

  “You’ll never know, you massive pig.” Her voice was sharp and confident. “You’d better not even think about touching me!”

  The Baron’s three chins quivered as he chuckled.

  “And why not, little one?”

  “Because,” Pandaema clapped her hands three times. “My lord will not allow you!”

  There was a roar of wind and an explosion of red light that hurled Melusine to the ground. She didn’t look back to see who Pandaema had summoned, but rolled blindly towards the center of the room, away from the action in the corner. She was just about to crawl after the fallen angels who were fleeing downstairs en masse when Balazel’s commanding voice arrested her.

  “Melusine, stay!”

  She froze, wishing she could simply fly back to the Lewis house, wishing she’d never come to this cursed nightclub tonight, of all evenings. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask Balazel half of her questions, and it appeared she was going to find herself in the middle of what could be a very deadly angelic duel. Reluctantly, she pushed herself to her feet, and turned around. What she saw was exactly what she feared, because at Pandaema’s side, towering possessively over her, was a powerful fallen angel whose red-lined robes marked him as an archon.

  For an archon, he wasn’t particularly handsome, Melusine couldn’t help observing with a critical eye, despite the imminent danger. His slack jaw and vacant brown eyes gave her a clue as to Pandaema’s apparent influence over him; while the short Temptress was far too interested in angelic intrigue to ever do much actual tempting, Melusine had always considered her to be rather clever. Looking at the two angels together, it wasn’t hard to see which one of them called the shots, despite the difference in their rank.

 

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