by E. A. Copen
Everyone in the car exchanged glances. Thoganoth shrugged.
I sighed. The collective magical IQ of the three was impressively low. Good thing they had me. “It means his blood is already tainted. You get the powers of an Infernal mage only one of two ways. You’re either born with the potential in your blood, as I was, or you cut a deal with a powerful demon to learn it. It means Iosef is powerful, yes, but physically he’d still break down under possession. There’s a reason most possessions don’t last long. The body dies under the strain of it. Iosef doesn’t want to die, which means he’ll have secured another vessel.”
“Niko,” Malphas said.
I nodded. “Niko is an Oracle, which means his bloodline is touched by the divine. He’s an ideal candidate.”
“So are you,” Malphas pointed out.
“There is that, isn’t there?” I tapped some ash onto the floor. “The point I’m building to is this. Should the three of you fail to evacuate the sacrifices from the kill room, we need a backup plan to make Remiel’s potential bodies uninhabitable.”
Khaleda turned back around and eyed me in the mirror. “What happens if he has no body to inhabit and gets pulled through anyway?”
“The same thing that would’ve happened to me if I had left my sanctuary without one,” Malphas said. “I would’ve been considerably weakened.”
“And therefore, easy to kill.” I lifted the small vial of blood Thoganoth had been kind enough to donate. “Remiel may be one of the Fallen, but he’s still angel enough to be affected by demon blood if he jumps into a body tainted with it. It’ll burn like fire. All I’ve got to do is get it to Niko.”
Thoganoth shook his head. “But Niko is under guard. You can’t just walk through the front door and inject him with demon blood. They’ll apprehend you as soon as they see you if they don’t outright kill you.”
“Thoganoth is right. This is a stupid plan,” Khaleda agreed. “Are you sure you’re not just doing this because you’re still on that self-destructive binge? I mean, what happens if we succeed in freeing the prisoners? You’ll still be trapped there, and who do you think Iosef and Alexi are going to take their anger out on?”
Milly tapped my shoulder. She has a point, Josiah.
I ignored them both. “I’m still the best bet at taking Iosef down. I know what he can do. When was the last time any of you did any blood magic? I think I’ve proven I’m more than capable of handling this situation.”
“Fine.” Khaleda dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Just don’t collapse the building this time, okay?”
“Give me a little credit. I’m not a fuckin’ moron.”
Milly crawled over the back of my neck to sit on my other shoulder. That’s debatable.
“Come ’ere, you. I’m not about to take sass from a bloody spider.” I tried to grab her, but she skittered onto the door and reared up as if to bite me. Drama queen.
How do you plan on delivering the blood to Niko? You might’ve deflected Khaleda’s questions, but don’t think I forgot. They will search you. That is if they don’t shoot you.
“Leave it up to me. You do your part, and I’ll do mine, yeah?”
Khaleda slowed the car and pulled over at the end of the block. We were still a good ways away from the chop shop, but Alexi would’ve established a perimeter. He probably had guards, lookouts. Bastard was too smart to let us sneak up on him.
I leaned forward and scanned the rooftops nearby, where I spotted a young boy leaning over a balcony. He might’ve been just a bored youngster, but it was more likely he was a paid lookout. Across the street, an old lady with a faded bandana tied over her head hung laundry over the balcony. A jogger came down the road in her skin-tight pants, and a dog-walker hurried across the street from the opposite direction with two retrievers. Any or all of them could be lookouts for Alexi Komnosis.
I lowered the window. Milly crawled out, clinging to the side of the car. “Get out at the first sign of trouble, ya hear me?”
Don’t take too long getting there, Josiah.
I drop to the pavement from the wheel housing. It’s not a far jump, but enough that it leaves me rattled for a moment. The cracked concrete is chilly beneath my feet. A juicy cockroach scurries into one of the cracks ahead. I can smell the fear coming from it, leaking into the air like a perfume. It’s been a while since Josiah fed me, so I consider stopping for a snack. It’ll only take a moment.
Then another cockroach hurries into its hiding spot followed by another. A parade of them rushes down the sidewalk alongside centipedes, grubs, and beetles of every species, all fighting to wriggle into a nice, safe den. When the sidewalk cracks ahead are full, the mob rushes by me as if I’m not even a threat.
They’re fleeing something much more frightening. Like them, I can feel it in the air, the dark magic stretched thin until it’s ready to snap. It’s heavy like a breath held underwater and thick, curdled like sour milk. The same divine magic I sensed in the warehouse a few days earlier.
The flood of insects parts before me, clearing a path to the metal fence. I climb up it, watching, listening, waiting for someone to come out and see me. Unlike the cockroaches, I’m big and noticeable, especially during the day. I suddenly wish we could’ve waited for nightfall, but it would be too late by then. Too late for us, but more important, too late for the human called Niko, whom Josiah was desperate to save. He would never admit it, but it should’ve been obvious. Why else wouldn’t he just blow the whole city block away?
I feel the pull of Josiah’s mind. He’s been listening in. First, saving Niko is a secondary objective. We’re here to stop Remiel, not to save Niko.
I climb over the top of the fence, flattening my body so I don’t bump against the razor wire. I hope we do get to save him. I like him. He said I was beautiful.
Second, we’re not blowing the building because there are hostages inside. Iosef could have some failsafe mechanism in his plan to exploit their deaths, so we have to do everything we can to keep them alive.
Does he dance?
What?
Niko. Did he dance for you?
Christ, Milly. Let it go, would you? Through the bond we share, I can feel his embarrassment. For a moment, it overcomes his worry and distracts him from the fear he’s been nursing that he will have to kill Niko like he did Danny.
There are times I wish I had a human mouth so I could smile. It’s adorable, the way humans like to pretend they don’t care about each other sometimes.
The yard stretches out in front of me. Stacks of car parts and the skeletal remains of cars litter the edges, leaving only a few twisty paths for humans to walk. Luckily, I’m small enough I can climb over most of them. The pile of junk shifts under my weight slightly. A vision of my little body crushed beneath a big car flashes behind my eyes and I jump away from the pile just in time. It crashes to the ground, scattering metal bits everywhere.
A pair of dogs rush into the clearing, snarling and barking. Spittle drips from their lips as they search for the source of the sound, the two of them practically crawling over each other for the chance to attack someone.
Guard dogs, Josiah notes with a hint of indignation.
They’ll be easy for him to deal with, so I don’t waste my time focusing on them. Instead, I turn my attention toward the blur of red and gold moving toward the dogs, a bipedal heat signature. It looks human, but it would take more than a passing glance to be sure. I crawl closer.
“Stupid mutts. Should’ve known you’d just knocked over a pile of shit.” He spits. It lands on the ground in a rapidly color-changing puddle, shifting from yellow to light blue as it cools.
I close four of my eyes, the ones I use to see around the human world, and focus on him with only the magical ones. His red and yellow heat signature changes to a pulsating red outline. The man is possessed by a demon.
I pass the information along to Josiah and crawl toward the building. It’d be faster to hitch a ride in on the possessed man’s leg, but the r
isk that I’ll be detected is too high, so I stick to finding a vent instead. The vent is narrow, musty, and warm. If the demons hadn’t scared them away, it would be the perfect place to catch dinner.
Noise vibrates through the metal plates under my feet, the dull din of male voices inquiring about the noise outside.
“Just the dogs,” says the voice from outside. “Nobody’s there.”
“Do a perimeter check just in case.” Josiah says this voice belongs to Iosef. Iosef is the Infernal mage. Josiah’s spent the last few hours imagining wrapping his hands around his neck and squeezing the life out of him. That won’t be how Iosef dies—with his magic, no one can get that close—but I imagine it would be very satisfying for Josiah.
“I’m telling you, there’s nothing out there,” insists the first voice.
“You know, another sacrifice wouldn’t hurt. If you want to keep all your intestines inside you where they belong, you’ll humor me and check anyway.”
A door squeaks open and someone—presumably the possessed man—stomps outside.
They’re on high alert, I tell Josiah.
Find out where they’re keeping the hostages.
He doesn’t say it, but he also wants me to find out where Niko is and what condition he’s in.
I stop in front of a grate and squeeze through it, sticking to the ceiling to scan the room below. It’s an open space with a smooth concrete floor. Several machines I don’t know the purpose of sit at regular intervals around pits in the floor. Utility shelving lines the walls, each shelf covered in grime and heavy tools. The space in front of the floor pits is marked out in a complex summoning circle surrounded by standing mirrors.
Niko sits in a chair not far from the circle. They’ve stripped him to his underclothes—a white tank top and a striped pair of boxers. A pendant hangs around his neck, pulsing with strong magic. It’s not doing him any good though. He’s bleeding from a split lip. The whole right side of his face is dark and swollen, as are several spots on his shins and upper arms. They’ve placed his chair on top of a blue tarp to keep the blood dripping from his face from leaking into the circle and tainting their summoning. Iosef seems to have thought of everything.
He hasn’t thought of everything. Rage swells in Josiah’s chest and filters through our bond, strong enough that I rear up, fangs bared, at the sight of the infernal mage.
Iosef has changed out of his street clothes into a simple gray cotton robe. He’s busying himself arranging items on top of another mirror that has been turned into a makeshift table. Using lipstick, he’s drawn another circle. This one is not for summoning. Once activated, it’ll create a sympathetic link between the mirror and some other location, allowing magic done on one side to amplify and pass through to the other. The catch is that he must do the spell in reverse, chanting and all, all the movements he’d normally do with his right hand delegated to the left. It’s complicated magic, but nothing too difficult for an infernal mage.
I sense time is running out, so I force myself to shut down part of the emotional bond I share with Josiah. His anger is slowing me down, and I still need to find the hostages.
I scan the room. The hostages would be in a small, locked space. A kill room, Josiah had called it. There, on the other side. It is the only door that didn’t lead to the outside. Has to be it. I crawl over the ceiling toward it only to pause when a new voice boomed through the room.
“Iosef!” Alexi, according to Josiah. “What’s taking so long?”
“This is delicate magic,” Iosef replies. “Everything must be perfect. You can’t rush perfection.”
Alexi storms across the room, an enraged snarl fixed on his face. “You had three days to prepare.”
“Yes, and much of my preparation was destroyed when that idiot blew up your club. I told you we should have taken him out the moment he was within our borders. I also told you we should have secured this one first, before you killed his sister.” Iosef gestures to Niko in his chair. “But you don’t listen, and one day that is going to cost you everything.”
“Is that a threat?” Alexi draws himself up, nose to nose with Iosef. An attempt to assert his authority. A useless gesture. It’s clear for all who look that Iosef is the true power in the room. Alexi is a puppet, and not a smart one.
Iosef smiles. “I do not make threats. Only observations. If I wanted you dead, I would not need to threaten you. I would only need to kill you. One word and it would be done. Good thing we are on the same side.”
The infernal mage’s observation makes Alexi uncomfortable. He steps back, adjusts his jacket, buttoning it. “Yes, well… Notify me at once when you’re ready. The longer we delay, the more we risk. We’re behind schedule enough as it is.”
I want to stay and watch what Iosef is doing, but I’ve reached the wall where the only door is. There is no way to slip under the door, or through a crack over it since the door is sealed, but another air duct is open nearby. I climb into it and walk along the narrow corridor until I find another grate looking down into another room.
It is a small space, less than ten by ten feet. Yet, a dozen people have been crammed inside, and the walls are lined with mirrors bearing the same circle as the one on Iosef’s mirror, except these have been painted on. Stopping whatever spell he wants to work won’t be as simple as smearing the circles, though smashing the mirrors would work.
Only if they’re all destroyed, Josiah adds as if I didn’t already know that. Is there another way into the room? See any secondary doors?
I lean my head to one side. With the mirrors lining the walls, it’s difficult to tell. No, no other doors, but one of the walls is an exterior wall. If the succubus and her demon can get past the guard dogs, they could make a hole in the wall by which to evacuate the hostages.
Brilliant. That’s our plan then. You hang tight just in case. Be my eyes in the sky.
I step back from the grate. And how are you getting inside in one piece?
Don’t worry about me. I’ve got my own secret weapon.
I pick up on his plan through our bond and frown. His secret weapon is neither secret nor truly a weapon. Most likely, his plan will get everyone killed, but at least if everyone is dead, we will have succeeded in our mission to stop Remiel.
Chapter Twenty-Six
JOSIAH
I got out of the car with Malphas. I hadn’t initially thought to take him with me, but if he went with Khaleda, there would be trouble. She’d funnel the hostages back out to God’s Hand, and they wouldn’t take kindly to accepting assistance from one of the Fallen, racist bastards that they were.
Not that I trusted him either. He was one of the Fallen, and one of Remiel’s closest confidants the last time Remiel had walked the Earth. I’d still rather have him at my back where I could keep an eye on him than out of sight causing trouble. If he betrayed me, that was one thing, but I couldn’t have him stabbing Khaleda in the back. She was going places, onto bigger and better things, whether she liked it or not. If there was one thing this whole mess had taught me, it was that no one escapes the calling in their blood. I was born to oppose my father, and she had survived to supplant hers. For what it was worth, I’d always thought she’d make one hell of a queen.
The silver around my wrists itched, but I couldn’t scratch it, no matter how I twisted my hands. “Did you get the bloody things on tight enough?”
“You said to make it look real.” Malphas put a hand on my shoulder and spun me around. “Can’t have you escaping too soon.”
“I can be out of these in twenty seconds.” So long as they didn’t find my lock pick, that was. If they grabbed it, it’d take me longer.
Malphas drew a small glass vial from his pocket and held it out in front of him, frowning. “Are you certain you can do this? What if you have a negative reaction to it? You are half-angel yourself, Josiah. It’ll be like holding irradiated water in your mouth.”
“It’s the only way to make it work, mate,” I said, taking the vial and
popping off the top with my thumb. “They’ll search us both when we go in, and I’m not sticking this whole thing up my arse. The jig will be up if I’ve got to take my knickers off, so down the hatch it goes.”
“Not to mention, nobody wants to see that.”
I lifted the tube of demon blood. “Remember, you’ll have to do all the talking, and make sure I get close enough to Niko. Stick to the plan. No deviations.”
Malphas snorted. “I can follow orders.”
“Cheers, mate.” I didn’t know how much of the blood I’d need, so I’d resolved to use it all. Not an easy feat.
A couple of milliliters of liquid doesn’t look like a lot, but when it’s demon blood, and you’ve got to hold it in your mouth for several minutes without swallowing or spitting, it sure felt like a lot more. The minute it touched my tongue, I had to fight to keep from doubling over and vomiting. It didn’t burn, no more than a slightly over-heated cup of coffee anyway, but it’d cooled over the last hour. The consistency was too thick, like an off pudding. I forced myself to hold it in my cheeks, hoping it wouldn’t be too obvious.
Malphas studied my face, then nodded with a grunt. “Better hurry. You look like you’re about to be sick.”
He’d said it would be like irradiated water. In that, Malphas was wrong. I’d say it was more akin to holding raw nuclear waste. With every passing second, the burning pain increased until the inside of my mouth felt raw.
We reached the locked gate. Malphas looked up and down the street. From where we stood, I could just barely make out the front end of one of Petra’s vans at the far end of the street. They were supposed to give us five minutes to do our part, starting the clock when we walked through the gate. The van’s headlights flashed, the signal indicating she’d seen us.
