03 Before The Devil Knows You're Dead-Speak Of The Devil

by Eimer, Patricia

  “These reapers that were locked in Purgatory,” Phil said. “What happened to them? How did they go from in there to out here?”

  “They hovered around Michael and waited for their chance,” Bassano said.

  “So when Michael became the Angel of Death…” I shifted from one foot to the other and didn’t meet anyone else’s eyes.

  “He brought the rest of the reapers with him into the mortal realms. He’d already made contact with Brenda and combined his army with hers,” Bassano said.

  “Why Brenda?” I asked.

  “Who else?” Aurelia asked. “Who better than a jilted young woman seeking revenge on her beloved and the woman he left her for? Especially since they shared a common enemy?”

  “She caused all of this.” I waved my hand at the windows. “Over me and Matt? Really? I don’t know, but isn’t starting a war between Heaven and Earth a bit of an extreme reaction to some guy telling you he’s not interested?”

  “Not if you consider the fact that she’s crazy enough that she’d planned to assassinate Valerie to gain the Roman spear.” Bassano coughed, hard enough to shake the entire bed.

  “But Lilith killed Valerie,” I said.

  “I know. She told me when we met downstairs earlier.”

  “You saw Lil? Downstairs?”

  “She wanted to stay.” He coughed again. “She would have stayed except her son, and mine, needed her more than I did. Before she went, though, she told me how she killed Valerie, but only because Brenda had laid a trap so successful that she led you along it like Hansel and Gretel along a path of sweets. She led you to where she needed you to go. She led you into winning her the spear.”

  “Why does she want this spear?” Phil asked. I took a moment to steady my hands. I grabbed some bandages to patch Bassano up.

  I lifted his arm and wiped it with a small square of gauze and the flesh sizzled and foamed under my fingers. Bassano groaned as the stench of garlic wafted from the wound. Whoever had hurt him had used a relic to do it, most likely the spear itself.

  “It gives her the ability to kill immortals stronger than herself,” Bassano said, his voice tight with pain. “It’s a true relic.”

  “A what?” Phil asked.

  “An actual holy item,” I said. “There aren’t many of them. Six of the ten are related to the Crucifixion. The Roman spear, the three nails of the Cross, Veronica’s veil, and the bag of thirty pieces are relics because they are related to the death of Jesus. The Holy of Holies, the Oil of the Maccabees, and the two tablets of Moses come from an earlier time.”

  “So, you’re telling me that there are these magical pieces of historical artifact lying around where anyone can pick them up and use them to bring down Hell on Earth and none of you thought this was a problem?” Phil snapped.

  “They weren’t lying around,” Bassano said, his face covered in sweat as he lay back against the pillows. “They were hidden, kept safe, but the spear passed into the realm of men somehow and Brenda found a way to possess it.”

  “Why?” Phil asked. “She wanted to go on a killing spree to get over being dumped? I’ve got to agree with Devil girl over here, that’s a pretty dumb reason to bring crazy down on a whole city full of unsuspecting people.”

  “She wants to rule over everything,” Bassano said. “The spear allows her to take the power and the souls of those she kills. Michael has convinced her that she’ll be able to possess the souls of both the Alpha and the Omega.”

  “Like Levi.”

  “Who’s Levi?” Phil was in that odd place where shock and frustration were mixed with a healthy dose of fed up. Which was basically why we tried to keep mortals from learning about the existence of angels—it was never worth the migraines that everyone ended up suffering—especially the humans.

  “Levi is, well was, another nephilim who tried a similar tactic a few months back. He was draining lesser demons of their power but leaving them alive. Once he’d amassed enough power he wanted to force my father and God to give him their powers as well. It didn’t work and now he’s trapped in Purgatory.”

  “Who do you think set him up to it?” Bassano asked, his voice weak. “Who better to do your dirty work than a guy who was too stupid to see you’re manipulating him? After all, the power behind the throne is heady and you have fewer people to answer to.”

  “She would have been a child when Levi started laying his plans,” Mary Beth said.

  “She’s a child that tried to seize power from the minute she left the cradle.” Bassano let his head drop onto the pillow and closed his eyes. “I should have strangled her in her crib. I knew from the first moment I saw her that she would bring nothing but ruin into the world. But she was my grandchild, and I couldn’t bring myself to harm her. Now, you’ll have to finish where I failed.”

  “You want me to kill your granddaughter? Seriously?” I asked.

  “Or you could wait for Michael to kill her. Once she’s no longer useful, he’ll make sure to get rid of her. Then again, do you really want to wait long enough for Michael to amass that kind of power?”

  I felt his body suddenly go limp and his hand slipped from mine. I felt for a pulse, but it was weak and fluttery. Definitely not good by any stretch of the imagination.

  Mary Beth sobbed, and I looked over at Aurelia and then Phil, shaking my head. Matt’s father was dying and, without the ability to touch my power, there was nothing I could do for him. The body—I wouldn’t think of him as Matt’s dad—shuddered.

  “Get her out of here. Find Malachi. Find out who—or what—they might send for the spear because my guess is, whoever it is, they’re coming sooner rather than later, and we need to be ready.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  I grabbed the spare blanket out of the wardrobe and pulled it over Bassano to keep him warm. Not that it would do much good. The body was dying and nothing I could do would change it. If I’d had my powers, I might have been able to slow it down enough to keep the physical going until J or someone else could heal him. As it stood, though, I couldn’t do anything but sit with him and wait.

  I wrapped my hand around his, trying to will him to hold on with just my touch but his skin had already started to turn gray and cold. “It’s okay.” He smiled weakly at me.

  “I know.” I tightened my grip on his fingers. “We’re going to make it through this. You just rest. They’ll be back to get us in no time.”

  I walked to the window, staring out at the mob that was surrounding the hospital below. They weren’t attacking. They weren’t massing. They were simply there. Screaming and weeping and wailing as men stood on platforms and riled them up.

  A woman hoisted herself on top of an ambulance that had been toppled over and threw her hands in the air. I couldn’t hear her but from the way she jerked her body, I could tell she was screaming about something—something stupid probably.

  What brought a person out to riot during what looked to be the end of the world? Didn’t she have a family to go back to? Hell, I was a demon—or I had been—and even I had someone to go home to.

  I heard a loud crack and then the woman’s body jerked suddenly, her hands flailing as her head jerked backward. Blood bloomed on the front of her shirt. Two men grabbed at her ankles and, before I could make sense of what they were doing, she was gone and so were they. Someone had just been murdered and no one down there even seemed to notice. To care.

  Perfect, we’d gotten to the massacring each other part of the program. Not good. It meant things were spiraling even more rapidly out of control than I’d first thought.

  If—when—we settled this something was going to have to be done with the people surrounding the hospital. The rest of them could be passed off as a moment of insanity, or hallucinogens in the water, or chemical warfare that had messed with everyone’s brains, but those people down there? There was no bringing them back from this.

  “Oh, Dad,” I whispered as I dropped my head against the window. “What did I get us into?�
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  “This is the evil in everything that happens under the sun: The same destiny overtakes all. The hearts of men, moreover, are full of evil and there is madness in their hearts while they live,” Michael announced and I lifted my head to stare at him in the doorway. “They’re evil Faith. The humans. They don’t deserve your pity. Your love.”

  “Go away,” I snapped. “Don’t you have some sort of dumb idea related to overthrowing the Almighty that you’re supposed to be working on?”

  “Oh, darling.” Michael tutted and I saw him standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at Bassano. “None of my ideas are dumb. You don’t understand how to appreciate their beauty.”

  “Beauty? You call what’s going on out their beauty?”

  “Come now. Of course I do.” Michael grabbed my arm and tugged me away from the bed, over to the window to look down at the seething mass of people below. “Don’t you remember Genesis? He overthrew those cities and all the plain and all the inhabitants of those places and that which grew on the ground?”

  “You’re not the Alpha,” I retorted. “Besides, Pittsburgh isn’t one of the cities of the plain.”

  “I could be a God, and this could be my plain,” he said in my ear.

  “No.”

  “All I need is one good blowout of an event to take over—and an archenemy, of course. Think about it. Me and you. Partners. A new Celestial order. Heaven and Hell in our command while those two old fuddy-duddies share a corner of Purgatory pissing and moaning about what they should have done differently to save us all.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Are you sure?” Michael asked. “Think about it. Unimaginable power. The world—”

  “I know, I know. The world trembling at our feet. Not interested.”

  “How about I give you an incentive?” He slammed his open palm down on Bassano’s forehead and the angel beneath his hand faded. Nothing. He was simply gone.

  “No!” I shrieked.

  “Great.” Michael brushed his hands together. “Now that I’ve got your attention, let’s discuss my proposal.”

  “You bastard!”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Me bad Angel of Death who killed the cherub. I should be so ashamed. I’m not, but I should be. Now for the predictable part. If you don’t help me—I’ll do the same thing to every member of your family that I just did to God’s horniest angel here.”

  “You’re never going to be able to pull this off,” I said.

  “Oh please, of course I will.” He rolled his eyes at me. “It’ll be easy-peasy since you’re going to help.”

  “No I won’t.”

  “Sure you will, because if you don’t come with me right this second, I’m going to Hannah Stavlinski’s room and I’m taking the soul you stole from me. Then I’m going to take the souls of every other child in this hospital. One by one and I’m going to let you listen as they scream their way into death. And trust me, by the time I’m done, even the bravest of them will die wailing in pain.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  He swept out of the room, not bothering to see if I’d follow him and, for one brief moment, I considered staying where I was to see what he’d do but I knew that he’d find Hannah and kill her anyway because that’s the kind of crazy Michael had decided to roll with.

  “Shit.” I watched the mass of crazy people outside, then turned to where Bassano had been lying. I had nutcases outside, an angel who’d lost his mortal body and might still be tethered to the room for all I could tell, and this was when Michael decided to show up for our final showdown between evil and well… Eviler? Epically evil? Evil and poorly dressed? I’d figure the terminology out some other time. Probably after I found a way to kick the current, and soon-to-be-past, Angel of Death’s ass.

  I started out of the room and saw him the moment I turned the corner, heading straight to Hannah’s room. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he stepped into that room and found it empty. Had he really not thought we were going to evacuate all the rooms? Apparently, ultimate power didn’t come with a boost in IQ points.

  That could work to my advantage though. If I could come up with a way to lock him in Hannah’s room, then we could evacuate the kids to another floor and out of his reach.

  “Coming, Bettincourt?” Michael called over his shoulder as he slipped into the room.

  “You bet your ass, dumbshi—” I froze as I stepped into the doorway. She was lying there, tucked in her bed with machines beeping around her.

  “Oh, did I forget to tell you? It seems that your nurses forgot this room was occupied. Now, of course, it isn’t their fault. I did glamour the room so that when they looked inside it was empty. That wouldn’t have worked, though, if it weren’t for the fact her father decided to be such an inconvenience and take your side.”

  “You’re going to kill her because of her father?”

  “If he’d have minded his own business, his poor, darling offspring would have been saved.”

  “Leave her alone.”

  “No.” He smirked at me. “She’s mine. Remember? I was supposed to have her soul days ago but you stole it.”

  “She shouldn’t have been on the list,” I argued.

  “Doesn’t matter if she should have been there or not—she was there.”

  “Well, she’s not there now. You don’t have a file. Leave her alone.”

  “Oh, you simpleminded idiot, don’t you get it?” Michael asked.

  “No, sorry, my translator for crazy isn’t really up to the standards you need.”

  Michael threw his hands up and stalked into the room. “There are no lists now! There are no rules. Well there are rules per se.” He gave me a manic grin. “It’s only that they’re my rules. Mine. My first rule is that the Archangel Michael doesn’t have to play by anyone else’s rules. So when I say no more files that’s exactly what I mean. I’m Death now. I decide who lives and who dies, and no one—not you, or your father or his stupid jackass brother—can do anything about it.”

  “Really? So why am I here then? If you’re such a BAMF why do you need me? Why do you need all this chaos?”

  “BAMF?” Michael narrowed his eyes at me.

  “BAMF.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Bad Ass Mother…”

  “That’s disgusting.” He wrinkled his nose at me. “I’ve never understood how that particular phrase can be considered a compliment. Surely even humans know that it’s distasteful to perform such acts with the woman that gave them life?”

  “You’re missing the point.” I stalked into the room, trying to find the best way to position myself between him and Hannah. I moved left, trying to move around him, but he managed to maneuver between us. Even though he was in full-blown-nutcase mode he’d apparently decided to keep an eye on me.

  “So what is the point then? Unless you’re trying to suggest that I would lower myself to copulating with a person that doesn’t exist. I’m an archangel— a mother is something I lack.”

  “What I’m trying to say is that if you’re such a tough guy why do you need the big theatrical number to get everyone’s attention? You’re the Angel of Death? Fine, shut up and do the job. Why do you have to brag about it?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? War is entertainment.” He grinned at me. “Imagine how easily the rest of the world will give into me when they see what I’ve done. Think about how people will tremble and fall before me. A present god. A vengeful god. One that can deliver death with a simple touch.”

  “They won’t care. Sure, for a few weeks people will get all woo-woo.” I held my hands out in front of me and shook them while making my best I’m so terrified face.

  “Eventually, though, it’ll die down. Once you stop killing people randomly, they’ll get used to you and go on about their day-to-day lives. Sure things will change a bit but they’ll adapt. They’re humans, they’re good at adapting. You meanwhile…” I shrugged and gave him my best sucks to be you grimace.

  “What?”


  “You’re stuck ruling them, trying to come up with a compelling narrative to keep them going. You can’t trot J out, either. He’s a relic of the old system. So no more Sermon on the Mount or Turn the Other Cheek metaphors. Oh, and you’re going to need a book. You’ve got authors, right? Scholars?”

  “What?”

  “You don’t have a book in the works?” I shook my head at him. “Amateur. You need a book. A message. A nemesis to fight. A martyr already.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “No, this shit doesn’t come ready made to order from a catalog. It’s not a Star Trek movie where you pick up an old script, repurpose it, and then bring in sexy, new guys to take over the same old roles. This is religion, jackass. People want substance. Not hunky men in tight costumes and explosions. The hot guys help, but come on already, get with the program. You need a plot of some sort.”

  “You’re my nemesis,” Michael said. “You. You’re the last Angel of Death. You can be my nemesis.”

  “Bitch, please.” I pointed at the window. “I’m on their side! I’m going to be the type of nemesis that says ‘Oh, he’s threatening you with death? That sucks. Here can I offer you a chocolate-chip cookie?’

  “Besides, I have no power. None. You took it all. Are you really going to tell people that your evil nemesis is a mortal woman with nothing particularly special going for her?”

  “But…” He looked from me to the window and then back at me, his eyes wide. Obviously he was just now realizing how little he’d thought this through. Which was a good thing. I decided to keep going. I obviously had him off balance and if I could keep talking, maybe I could buy enough time for someone else to come up with a better plan. What that was, I had no idea. Hell I didn’t even know if anyone had even realized I wasn’t in room one anymore or if they’d even care but right now I was doing what I did best. Winging it. Even if my wings were long gone.