Of course, Avriel had power of his own. He had said they battled, the demon and him. He hadn't always lost. We weren't so lucky.
"Where to?" she asked. We stayed crouched behind an old Camaro, and I searched the buildings across the street for his position.
"It doesn't matter," I said. "He's going to come for us soon."
"What do you mean?"
She hadn't seen it yet, which surprised me. "How much do you remember?" I asked.
Tears sprung to her eyes in an instant. "Don't ask me that," she said.
I didn't blame her reaction. "Each time, I remember a little more. Each time, he lets us live just a fraction longer. He wants us to remember. He wants us to relive the pain, over and over again. I remember the last time. It will be over soon."
She laughed. A heavy, defeated laugh. "Over? This is never going to be over. You and I both know that. He'll kill us, and we'll start again."
I peeked out at the buildings across from us again. The longer we lived, the fewer times he could end us. It wasn't much, but at least it would hurt less.
"Dante will find a way to get us out," I said, trying to convince both of us. "Sarah won't give up either."
"Sarah? Don't try to make me feel better by pinning our hopes on her. You know what she is, and what will happen."
I grabbed her arm and pulled her down two more cars, oblivious to the bullets. "It doesn't have to be that way. She held up when Josette died. She kept it together when Gervais took Izak. She saved everything."
Charis turned me around so she could look me in the eye. "I'm not saying she didn't do a good job, but that was then. This is now. Who's going to keep her grounded? I don't have much faith in her being on her own. I'm sorry, love, but that's the truth."
A glint of steel was the only warning. I threw Charis to the side, getting her away from the sword that sliced down towards her head. It wasn't Ross, but one of his creations, a grotesque clone of Charis, with a twisted and mangled face, covered in bleeding sores. She hissed when the blow came up empty, and jumped at me.
I was only mortal here, but I still knew how to fight. I sidestepped her punch, grabbed her arm, and brought a knee up into her stomach. I smelled the fetid stench of the air bursting from her lungs, and nearly paused to vomit. Instead, I twisted the arm until it snapped, and shoved her so she was between me and the car. I heard the gunfire, and the body shook while it caught the bullets that had been fired at me. I found Charis on her knees, and pointed to a storefront. We inched towards it, using the creature as a shield.
It had to be time, I knew. He would be here any second, the pissed-off smile on his face, his anger at being stuck here unable to be contained. He would kill us again, after some kind of torture. He liked to kill Charis first, to make me watch her die. Sometimes he would add my mother, or a child for the two of us. That had been his first effort, and little did he know, it had been the most painful.
We reached the store, and Charis opened the door and held it for me. Once we were in I dropped the corpse and we scrambled deep enough inside so that the shooter couldn't get an angle. We would have a few seconds of quiet.
"There has to be something we can do," Charis said. "How can our power hold him, contain him, if we don't have any?"
That was a new idea. One we hadn't had before. Was the Beast making a mistake by letting us live for longer periods, or was it intentional?
"Hold that thought," I said, as if that could bring it to us sooner.
"Good morning, children," the Beast said. He appeared from nowhere in his pinstriped suit and sunglasses, wearing his crap-eating grin and holding his pocket watch. "I'm sorry I'm late. Honestly, I thought my Charis would get you, or at least slow you down. Either you're getting more resourceful, or I'm getting lax."
"Go to hell," Charis said, spitting on him.
He was deliberate, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a monogramed handkerchief to wipe the spittle away. "I tried to go to Hell. You stuck me in here instead." He lifted a hand and clenched his fingers together while twisting his wrist.
I heard her spine break.
Charis cried out in pain, and fell to the ground, paralyzed.
The Beast looked at me, the anger obvious. "You and your bitches." He drew a line in the air, and her skin spread apart down her arms. She screamed louder, but kept her eyes on him, defiant.
"You can kill us as often as you want," I said. "You aren't getting out of here."
He laughed. I hated it. "You've said that four times now, and you still don't remember my answer."
I tried to remember that part. "Why don't you tell me again?"
He opened up more cuts on Charis' body, leaving her panting, with tears in her eyes. She refused to look away from him, fighting the pain with her own anger.
"Do you really think I didn't make arrangements, kid? As small as your odds of getting me in here were, I'm not stupid enough to chance getting stuck forever. I know how to get out of here. It'll take me some time, but I have plenty to keep me entertained."
He laughed again, while I tried to think through what he had just said. The words were familiar, and now I remembered that he had said them before.
"Ah, now it comes back to you," he said. He looked over at Charis, writhing on the ground, a pool of blood below her, and then he looked at his watch. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short."
He turned his wrist again, and her stomach erupted in a geyser of blood and guts. I tried to close my eyes, but he didn't let me.
"Oh no, kid. You're going to watch. Every time. I hope it hurts."
It did. Every time. I would have thought the repetition would make me numb, but it only made it worse. It was hard enough to watch someone you loved die once. Try doing it again and again, stuck in a twisted Groundhog Day.
I felt a small sense of relief that she was out of it for another round. "How are you going to do it?" I asked.
"Do what?"
"Get out of here. How can you do it? I think you're lying." I remembered now. He'd told me he was confident he would get out. He may have even told me how.
He smiled. "I'm not going to tell you this time. You're getting the hang of this a little too easily."
He broke my neck.
CHAPTER FIVE
Rebecca
"Are you ready?" I asked.
We were still in her apartment, but we had cleared the tea set, and now we sat on our knees facing one another. She looked comfortable in the position, but my shell's body was straining from the weight pressed down on it.
"I'm ready," she replied.
We had spent another hour going over ground rules. The most important one was that she needed to lead the way through the warehouse. She had some things she thought might come in handy, so the so-called 'armory' was going to be our first stop. Of course, there were things in there that even she wasn't technically allowed to take, so it was going to be a fun exercise getting out with the stuff. It didn't help that Joe was already ticked at her for suggesting his plan was foolish. She was certain that if she were caught going rogue, her father wouldn't have too many qualms about either killing her, or imprisoning her. Fighting the Divine meant having the steel will needed to make those kinds of sacrifices.
I closed my shell's eyes and took a deep breath, nervous and unconvinced that Elyse was dealing from a straight deck. There was no better choice though, so I detached myself from him. As always, it was an experience with a measure of pain attached; every part of my soul catching fire at once for just an instant. I felt my complexities fall away from me, and my motivation reduced to only a single directive. Help Landon.
Elyse was still, the Eye of Third Sight glimmering on her forehead. She was looking at me.
"Amazing," she said. "I haven't seen one outside of a body." She reached her hand up towards me. "Do you feel that?"
I didn't feel anything. Was she touching me? I floated in her direction, a gossamer thread on a puff of air, drawing closer and closer. Her eyes followed me, unt
il I was under her nose, and flowing down her mouth.
I could have taken her then. I could have settled my soul over hers, and gained her body and mind, but I didn't. For this first part, she needed to be the driver. Instead, I settled for tapping into her, so I could at least see what she saw. I don't really know how I did it, or how I knew to do it. In that state it was more instinct than understanding.
The Korean was still kneeling in front of her, and his eyes began to flutter as he regained himself. I felt Elyse moving. She got to her feet and went over to a wall with a pair of katana mounted to it. She lifted one from the rack, eased it from its scabbard, and returned to the man. She knelt down in front of him, positioning the sword angled up from the ground. Before he could open his eyes, she reached out and pulled him onto it, impaling him through the heart. He died without a sound.
"He was impure."
That was all she said. She didn't have to explain to me, or make an excuse. He was a means to a more important end; his death was a trifle compared to our needs. On the other hand, was she suggesting that I had made him impure by controlling him? Didn't that make her impure? Would she commit seppuku once our work was done, or was she as hypocritical as I had found most humans to be?
She took the body and lifted it, showing a surprising amount of strength in her lithe frame. She held him over her shoulder, careful to keep his blood from getting onto her clothes, and carried him into her bedroom. It was an interesting place, with a foam mattress on the floor and random artwork covering nearly every inch of the walls that the fish tank didn't occupy; a menagerie of artistic renditions of the naked form, in every style and medium I could think of.
The north wall had a fireplace, and it was there that she dropped the body with a slight grunt. Only then did she remove the sword. "Less blood this way," she said, talking me through her actions.
"The artwork," I said. I had never spoken to my host before. It felt strange, the words more of a vibration than sound.
"The human body is an amazing thing. Look around at these works, and consider the years of observation it took to create such masterpieces. The study of every muscle, every movement." She pointed at one that was little more than a few thick brush strokes on a white canvas. Still, it was undeniably human. "It is easy to explain something in a thousand strokes, but what about in three? I look at these, I study them, and I learn. My strengths and weaknesses, my successes and failures. It is very important to know yourself. The better you do, the more powerful you become."
"God created humans," I said. "You want to destroy God."
She laughed, and then walked back out into her living room. She opened a closet and reached up onto a shelf, bringing down a small wooden box. "God didn't create man," she said. "Not originally. The science makes that plain as day, for anyone who chooses not to be ignorant. No, God came here. He discovered us. He made the angels in our likeness. In their jealousy, they destroyed us. He punished those who did it, and gave us new life. That is the true story of creation. That is why He is the enemy."
I knew her words were untrue. I had been touched by Him, and I had felt His goodness. He had changed me, in every way my soul could be changed. "That isn't how the Divine understand it to be," I said.
She opened the box, and took a small ruby from it. It was etched with demonic runes. "I wouldn't expect that your masters would want you to know the truth. That is why we fight, Rebecca. We are the rightful owners of this world, not you or your kind." She couldn't disguise her anger and hatred. "It doesn't matter now. We need to stop the poison first, and then we can move on."
"I didn't ask to be what I am," I said. I don't know why, but I felt like I needed to defend myself.
"Few enough of us ask to be what we are. That doesn't change it. Your guilt lies in your progenitors."
She took the stone and brought it back into the bedroom. She held the crystal, rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger so that the runes began to glow, and then threw it into the fire on top of the dead man. The crystal erupted in a geyser of hellfire that reduced the body to ash within the few seconds that it burned.
"Only the most powerful demons can control hellfire," she said. "But did you know that they make these for their loyal servants, to give them a taste of that power?"
She turned away from it and went out and over one doorway, into her bathroom. It was a massive room, with a large closet, a shower, and a jacuzzi. The fish tank wound its way through here as well. Small sharks combed the bottom of the tank, while a ray skated the top.
Elyse pulled off the ninja clothes she had been wearing. Passing a full-length mirror, I could see all of the kit she wore in rings and necklaces and hip chains that she kept hidden from sight. She was also covered in tattoos and scars, some that had been carved and filled like the Eye, others that were inked in demonic runes or seraphim scripture. Naked, I could almost feel the stolen power radiating from her.
"What does it all do?" I asked.
"Protection," she said. "I don't have anything of my own but the natural strength of my muscle, and the understanding of physics to turn my body into a weapon. Against a vampire, that is usually enough. Against an archfiend or a seraph, I wouldn't last a blink."
She grabbed a thong, a lacy bra, a pair of skinny jeans, a black cami, a leather jacket and calf-high black boots. She left the knife she had used on the vampire in the closet. "We've got better tools than that."
On her way out, she picked a pair of sunglasses from a nearby shelf, and wrapped a bandana around her bald head to hide the Eye. Passing the mirror again, I could see that nearly all of the tats, scars, and jewelry was hidden from view.
"You've done this before," I said.
"I'm Joe's favorite retriever," she replied.
We left the bathroom and her apartment, stepping out into the carpeted hallway and turning right. Elyse walked with confidence, her head up and her jaw out, challenging anyone who might happen by to question her activity. As we reached the corner of the hallway, Joe came around it, leaving her to spin out of his way, grab his arm, and pin it tight against his back before he could react.
"Ahh, nice move, darling," he said with a laugh. "I should have been more careful."
Elyse leaned up and kissed the back of his neck. "You should father. You never know what might be wandering these halls."
She let him go, and he turned around, looking at her with intense brown eyes. "In here? Not likely. The diuscrucis might have been able to pull it off, but they're gone. Why are you headed for the armory, anyway? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
She didn't hesitate. "There was another changeling outside, a vampire. I was going to get the stone and make sure the area was clear."
Joe waved his arm. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell Reza to have Yu do a sweep before he comes in. Get some rest. I have a lead on that girl, Sarah, I want you to check out in the morning."
Elyse cocked her head. "Sarah? What kind of lead?" I could tell she was faking. She already knew something about it. But how much?
"I'll tell you in the morning, sweetheart. It can wait until then."
"Tell me now. Maybe I can do some research ahead of time. It will help me fall asleep."
Joe pursed his lips in consideration, and then shook his head. "I know you. You'll be up all night instead. I need you rested for this one. None of this stuff makes you impervious to fatigue."
I could feel her getting angry, her heart beating faster. "Father, I'll be fine. You know I don't need much rest."
He turned and started walking away. "In the morning. Good night, Elle."
"Stubborn pain in the ass," she said under her breath. "Good night, father."
She stood there seething until he had gone, and then made a beeline to the armory. It was around the corner and down a quiet hall, behind a huge steel door that required both fingerprint and retina scans for access. She stuck her finger in the hole and bent her face to the level of the eyeball scanner, and the door clanked and swung inward. She ducked inside
and pushed it back closed.
When she turned around, all of the lights blinked on, revealing a long square room. It was sterile and barren, an empty room with a cold steel floor, ringed with hundreds of cabinets built into the walls. It looked more like a morgue than an armory.
"Do you know what you came for?" I asked.
She answered by walking to the back of the room, and reaching up to pull open a higher shelf. Inside was a Roman spatha. She lifted it from the black velvet pad it rested on and showed it to me.
"What is it made of?"
Both the hilt and the blade were the same dull, plain, matte black, though the hilt also had black leather wrapped around it for grip. Etched lines ran across the blade itself, a smooth rhythm of letters from opposing alphabets.
"I don't know," she said. "It is believed to have been forged from the ore of a meteorite, by a Roman blacksmith who then went on to gift it to Augustus Caesar. The runes and scripture were added later, when the blade was gifted by Tiberius Caesar to one of his greatest generals, who also happened to be Awake. He convinced an archfiend and a seraph to etch the blade, using another Divine artifact to glamour the weapon, and keep the truth of the work from being known to either side."
"I take it he was a Nicht Creidim?"
"Of course. This blade is one of our most prized possessions, for obvious reasons."
A sword that could kill both angels and demons. I could imagine how thankful Landon would be for a weapon like that.
She turned it over in her hand, showing me a dark stone that was resting in the pommel. She held the blade up and let her pinkie brush against it. Everything but the stone vanished. She put it in her pocket.
"Where did it go?"
"Heaven and Hell aren't the only places out there," Elyse said. "There are many places close to this one. There are many places to hide things. This particular bauble came from a djinn."
Bound (The Divine, Book Four) Page 3
