by Aya DeAniege
“I need my weapon.”
“It’s in Heaven.”
“I know that. It’s in my rooms, on the trophy shelf above the mantle. I need you to get it for me. Since you’re here, since I could just end you. I don’t need a weapon to do that.”
“The guardians would never let me out with your weapon. They won’t let anyone out with your weapon but you. That’s the point of the guardians.
“Unless you’re going to rip off your wings and give them to me, but that wouldn’t even get me into Heaven because your wings no longer have grace enough left in them to carry you above a human city. You’re riddled with sin.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, otherwise. I can’t kill him without my weapon. No weapon, Baal goes free and kills Grace, consumes whatever she is and probably walks into Heaven, slaughtering everyone as he goes because he would have access to my rooms, and my weapon.”
The Host frowned at me.
“Shouldn’t you be threatening to murder me for getting in your way, or something?”
“Would that work?” I asked.
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “Of course, it wouldn’t work.”
“No point to it, then,” I said. “And if Grace dies, she goes to Heaven. What do I care?”
The Host’s frown deepened. He gave his head a little shake, a slow motion back and forth as his eyes stayed on me. There was a little sound from his mouth, an almost startled thing that may have also been questioning.
“Didn’t take you fer stupid,” he said.
As I watched, he reached out and picked up the glass that Gabe had abandoned. Sipping the drink, he held the liquid in his mouth for a moment and rolled it around. Making a little sound of appreciation, he swallowed and lifted the glass, considering the liquid. Then he finished the drink and set the empty glass on the table before finally turning back to me.
“Take it as a chalice,” he said with a motion to the glass.
“I get that, I do. Each human is a chalice which holds a bit of life’s fluid form within it,” I said.
“Yes, a human is a chalice, but Grace isn’t human. From the way you’re talking, you think she’s a grace reborn. Or a new angel. On the one hand, she is replacing you and going to kill you, and take your seat in Heaven. On the other hand, she is the grace of an angel, born on Earth. In neither version is she human. If she is the grace of an angel, and Baal consumes her to gain entrance into Heaven, she is consumed.”
“What is your point?”
“She has no soul, Sam. She can’t go to Heaven because she’s not a being. Not even an animal. She’s nothing more than a manifestation of… One of you. When Grace dies, she dies, that’s the end. No happy ending, no walking through the gates. She just stops existing. Unless you or Baal takes her into yourselves, in which case she would become a part of you, and live on inside of you.”
“Grace isn’t going to Heaven.”
“No, she’s not. But neither is she going to Hell.”
I gritted my teeth and tried not to show how upset that made me. In that moment, I was happy that we hadn’t decided to end her, that Lilly had interfered and I had become so taken by Grace and all that she was. If I had ended her, she wouldn’t have existed any longer, and I would feel terrible and hearing that and knowing that it had been at my hand.
“I need my weapon,” I said.
“You need a swift kick in the ass, is what you need,” the Host said. “Ectoplasm is appearing in random places in the city. Get yourself up, get out there and do what you boys have been doing all these years. We gave you your orders, why are you dragging your feet?”
“I’m on a long-term job,” I said. “If you have a problem with my performance in that job, look elsewhere.”
“It is about your long-term job.”
“I need my weapon for that. You won’t get it for me.”
“You know the other option. You know the other option will work. Why won’t you do it?”
“I wouldn’t kill Lillith all those centuries ago, and I won’t do it now,” I snarled, standing from the booth.
I tugged down my jacket and glared at the Host.
“Don’t be stupid, Sam.”
“If He wants a fucking murderer, he should have made one,” I snapped. “I am not an executioner, I am a mercy. You and the rest of the Host would be advised to remember that, the next time you try to tell me what I should do with my jobs.”
My phone, still on the table, went off several times. I reached out and picked it up, pulling up the message screen. The messages were from Grace and were timed over my conversation with the Host. For whatever reason, my phone hadn’t picked up the messages earlier, but sometimes phones were like that.
A comment on her day, and that they were taking a trip for job experience to some business downtown. I stared at my phone for far too long before I gave myself a shake and looked up.
The Host was gone, his empty glass still on the table, along with the tin of ectoplasm. I reached out and closed the tin, annoyed that he’d just leave it like that, open for all the world to see.
Then I sent a text off to Gabe, demanding the address for the landing pad. A moment later, I sent a message to my driver, to pull around the front. I had to go to the landing pad the moment Gabe gave me the address.
I texted Ralph about the Host.
Only then did I respond to Grace in a curious and friendly manner. Asked who she was going with, how long she’d be there and if she was having fun. The rest of it wasn’t my business.
Gabe and Grace got back to me at the same time.
Grace listed off who she was going with, and that she’d be there from eleven to one in the afternoon. Noon was a notable number for witches.
I couldn’t remember the why, but when opening portals, noon was important.
Gabe sent me the address and what the business was.
Grace’s visit downtown was to the landing pad.
Swearing, I hit the call button, conferencing with the others.
“Drop what you’re doing, we have a problem.”
“And that’s what we do here,” the tour guide said proudly to my little group of classmates. “If you’d follow me this way…”
I stared up at the company sign, wondering if I’d ever work for a company like that.
Not as a tour guide, though. I wanted to work in one of the big shiny offices way up on the higher floors.
“Grace?”
I turned toward the voice and frowned at Sam as he smiled at me and opened his arms.
“Fancy seeing you here!”
I almost pulled out my cellphone, to make certain that my text had been sent, but then I forced myself to relax.
If Sam had an evil twin brother, he probably would have said something, or Lilly would have. Someone would have mentioned it, right?
Why was I thinking like that?
All he had done was greet me. I looked at him for just a couple of seconds before that feeling of dread set in. Something was off about Sam, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on the what.
I forced a smile and pulled my hands from my pockets.
“I just texted you. How did you get here so fast?”
“Oh, no, I was here on business. I don’t have my phone with me, sorry. He’s a bit of an oddball, my connection here, but he sure gets things done. He won’t work with you if you have a cellphone. Had to leave it in the car, sorry about that.”
But, he had just texted me.
Unless one of his brothers had his phone and were texting me as a prank or something. I didn’t know why they’d be pranking me, but it was possible, guys did that all the time.
I thought, I hoped.
“Okay, you’re headed off then, to meet with your guy?”
He seemed to consider, then shrugged. Glancing over at the tour guide, he made a face, then turned his full attention to me. Hands in his pockets, he sighed out as he looked me over.
There was a hungry need in his eyes as
he seemed to drink me in, eyes moving over my form, lips turning upward in a little smile. When he finally met my eyes, I was unimpressed.
He was laying it on thick, and I didn’t appreciate it one bit.
“You want a real tour?” he asked finally.
Say no.
“Sure,” I said.
The tour had been quite dry. I wanted to work in a place like that, but they made it seem like just about the most boring place in the city. Even her voice droned on in a monotone fashion.
“This building was a defining achievement for its architect,” Sam said, walking up to me and offering his hand.
I reached out and took his hand, then moved to his side and slipped my arm through his. He smiled and set his hand on top of mine. With a glance around, Sam bit his bottom lip, then motioned with his head toward the elevators. We moved as one in that direction.
“If you look directly up,” he motioned. “The lights create a pentagram in shadow. There are twenty-five floors, five multiplied by five.”
“Does this have to do with demons and angels?” I asked.
He tensed, but only for a moment before he relaxed once more and let out the breath that he had sucked in.
“Not quite,” he said. “The architect was a lover of the pagan arts. You can see it in the little things sprinkled throughout all his works, but he was subtle about it. No marks on the floor to be seen. No frescos. All his work is in shadow and light. The skyscraper is built with shadow and light, a detailing marvel that shows the constant battle in all of us of that good and evil. Neither ever wins, and only those who know about the building, really know the architect’s inner most soul, could the understand just what he’s done with all the windows and lights. I find it quite beautiful.”
“I’m not a fan of the pagan arts,” I said.
“Ah, well, the company has been in the building almost as long as it’s been built. Their assets cover a great deal. I didn’t know that you were interested in them. I thought you were going to school for library work, for some silly reason.”
“I’m just exploring my options. I can do that.”
“That’s very true, you can,” Sam said, pressing the button for the elevator. “In fact, I strongly encourage it.”
We stood in silence until the elevator moved down the building to us. It dinged a moment before the doors opened. Sam motioned to me, and I stepped onto the elevator. He followed me on, turning to push a button. The doors closed and the quiet music of the elevator floated around us.
Sam cleared his throat gently.
“You seem more nervous than normal,” I said.
“I am more nervous, thank you for noticing,” he said with a grin.
“Why are you more nervous?” I asked, turning to him.
He blushed, giving me a tight-lipped smile.
“I just wonder if perhaps you’d be interested in… exploring options.”
“Exploring options?” I asked, looking around me. “Are you hoping to proposition me for prostitution or something?”
“What? No! Not a job,” he said.
Sam turned and pressed a button on the elevator, causing it to lurch to a stop. I frowned first at the button, then at Sam. He glanced at the button, then turned back to me. A hand slipped out of his pocket and motioned around us. Then he seemed to shrug.
“You don’t seem like the type of girl who’d just do it. I thought I’d ask instead of assume,” he said.
“Just do what?” I asked.
“Sex in elevators,” he said. “I mean, with everything else, or, whatever. How should I put this? We’ve done a lot, but I still haven’t had enough. I want more of that from you. But I don’t want to make it boring. I’d like to introduce you to lots of different ways of things.”
“You want to have sex with me in the elevator,” I said.
“Yes, please.”
“Oh,” I said. “What about the tour?”
“We can still do the tour,” he said. “Just, after. I see an opportunity. I want to take it.”
“Most talking you’ve ever done before sex.”
“You’re not just some woman I’m sleeping with,” he said. “I care about what you think of me and what we do. I want to hear what you have to say and what you think of what we do. Yes, I have decided to talk to you about sex rather than just lay my hands on you. Because I don’t want to lose you just because my appetite might be different from what you’re used to.”
“And you just decided this today?” I asked.
“Just, an hour or so ago as I was getting ready for this meeting. I found myself distracted by you. Wondering what you were up to and if you were thinking of me. I lost a contract because of it. Normally when I lose a contract, or a relationship costs me when it comes to business, I cut it off. But this time I just felt like it was worth the price. And then I wanted to see you.”
“And then we stumbled into one another,” I said.
“We did,” he said with a smile.
Sam moved toward me, closing off the inches between us. We were almost touching, but not quite. His hand reached down, grazing the air over my hand, but not touching me yet. His mouth opened as he seemed to sigh out.
“Say yes.”
Say no.
I bit my bottom lip, glancing up to the corner of the elevator, then around. I wondered if it had a camera up there somewhere, as elevators tended to have.
That little voice at the back of my mind whispered to me as I watched Sam. The voice might have been insistent, but I couldn’t say no to Sam. Not after our nights together, how he could drive such shudders out of my body even when I thought I was too exhausted to do more than sleep.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Sam smiled. His fingers trailed up my arm, settling on my shoulder for a moment.
“Let me lead,” he said.
He bent down and captured my lips as his hands settled on my hips. He directed me backward, pushing me against the wall of the elevator as his tongue thrust into my mouth. I was pinned between Sam’s hard body and the cold of the metal.
Sam slipped a knee between my legs. His other leg settled to one side, knee against the elevator. His hands moved awkwardly, sliding up my face and across my jaw.
Suddenly the kiss didn’t feel right, the touch of his hand almost seemed coarse, or scaly.
I broke off the kiss and set a hand on his chest.
“Uhm, you know what?” I said with a small shake of my head. “I don’t think we should.”
I swear I saw his eyes flash as he studied me through half-lidded eyes. Flash like an animal’s after dark. We both stood there, watching the other for a very long moment. Finally, he lowered his hand but didn’t move away.
“You’ve every right to say that,” he said. “May I ask why you changed your mind?”
I didn’t want to say that something was off. That he didn’t seem to be moving like the Sam I knew. Or that I was worried that he might have been drinking or something. It was the only thing I could come up with to explain the change in his behaviour. Because of that, I suddenly wanted to get away. I had to get to safety, even if I wasn’t certain why I had that sudden urge.
“Think my period is starting,” I lied.
“Oh,” he said, pulling away quite suddenly.
Sam put the width of the elevator between us as if something as small as a period changed everything about our relationship. He even rubbed at his pant leg idly, like he was trying to wipe the feel of me off of his hands.
“Should I go back to the tour?” I asked.
“No,” he said with a head shake as he pressed the button on the elevator. “No, that’s fine, it’s fine.”
I made a sound at the back of my throat and pulled out my phone. There was a text from Sam, timed about five minutes before.
As in, while I had been standing with Sam on the elevator. A panic laced through me.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and opened my mouth to ask Sam where his phone was. As the qu
estion settled on my tongue, I recalled him saying that he didn’t have his phone with him.
When he turned to me, I saw his eyes flash again, except this time I knew it had happened.
“I have to text Lilly,” I said. “She wanted a reminder. You know how she is.”
“Always forgetful, that Lilly,” Sam purred out.
I grabbed my phone again and sent a text to Sam.
“S.O.S.”
Then I paused and looked around, wondering how I put the words that I needed to say. It was possible that one of his brothers had his phone and was trying to find me because they wanted to return the phone.
Carefully, I glanced up at Sam, then back at my phone. I slipped into the camera mode and snapped a picture of him, then sent it off. My phone was silent a moment, then an image downloaded.
Sam, frowning at his phone, holding up his watch to the screen, showing off the exact time he took the picture, with Gabe in the background looking…
Pissed? Confused? Frightened?
“WHAT IS GOING ON?” I texted Sam.
“I DON’T KNOW. DID YOU EAT A BAD MUSHROOM OR SOMETHING?”
“This guy looks exactly like you and knows about me!”
“I’m coming to you, try to remain calm.”
“He tried to have sex with me!”
Sam sent back an emoticon that I didn’t know the use of. It was an upside down smiley face. Which made absolutely no sense, but if he was headed my way, I could find out more once he arrived.
Except, I was still standing in an elevator with fake Sam. Or Sam was playing a nasty prank on me.
Is this what crazy feels like?
That was very possible. It may have been that being stressed and overworked was finally getting to me. I had heard that people snapped all the time because of overworking themselves. Several people I knew, including Lilly, had told me that I should slow down before I ended up breaking myself.
Sam reached out and pushed a button on the elevator, apparently unaware of my furtive looks or the texting conversation. We began to move again as he glanced over his shoulder to me.
“We’re going to head up to the roof. The tour guide doesn’t show that to visitors.”
