Trinity: Feathers and Fire Book 9

by Shayne Silvers

  I also wanted some time to clear my head about a few things—the brooding ninja, my apparent vampire fangs and enhanced senses, my war against Heaven and Hell, the Olympians, Nate Temple’s whereabouts, and to clarify what I needed to ask Solomon. I had questions about the Archangels and the overall hierarchy of Heaven, the Nephilim vampires and their cuffs, and any information he might have on Anghellians or the Seven Sins. Privacy would do me some good.

  “Take Xylo with you so I can find you if I finish up, first,” I told him. He nodded, looking like I’d just asked him to babysit my kid brother. As dangerous as Xylo was, he was impressively gullible and aloof to the current world.

  “I’ll go with you,” Phix said. “A Horseman needs a horse, after all.”

  I thought about it and shrugged, turning my back on the others to give her a warm smile. “It will be nice to catch up with you, Phix.”

  She casually wiped at her chin with her paw while staring me straight in the eyes. “Yes. We have so much to discuss,” she said in a meaningful tone. My eyes widened and I wiped at my own chin, finding a speck of Nephilim blood I had missed. Phix assessed my face and gave a faint nod. So, she had seen me bite Quentin.

  “I am hungry,” Lucky reminded us. “And I’m not picking up my prick of a brother. I’ll get the cute little nephilpire holy badger.” He scooped up the Nephilim without further ado and ripped open a Gateway of golden light. I blinked in surprise, not realizing he could do such a thing. The Divines hopped through, forcing Ryuu to hurry up or be left behind. Ryuu picked up Eae in a fireman’s carry and then shuffled through the Gateway. Not a moment too soon, because it winked shut behind him, catching a few angel feather tips that fluttered to the ground of the park.

  “He really doesn’t like the angel,” Phix observed. I slowly turned to face her, uneasy about the topic at hand. “Hop on, Callie,” she said in a gentle tone. “Fangs do not make you a monster.”

  I hung my head as I complied, feeling the buzzing high begin to fade as I hopped onto her back. “But drinking Nephilim blood might seal the deal,” I argued.

  “Did it make you feel good?” she asked as she swept her wings and took us to the sky.

  I wrapped my arms around her waist so that I wouldn’t fall off. “People will see you!” I hissed.

  She laughed, shaking her stupidly beautiful hair in my face. “Grimm taught me how to hide. We could fly through downtown and not be seen.”

  “Well, you’re going to need to braid your hair or something,” I said, spitting out a tuft of her curly locks.

  She laughed even harder. “You never answered my question.”

  I was silent for a few moments, pretending that the wind was washing away the taint I felt in my soul. Because…it had felt good. Way too good. “Yes. Like an alcohol buzz,” I said.

  “Well, you are a vampire,” she reminded me. “You might not need human blood, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have treats every now and again. Do you feel any kind of craving? Hunger? Thirst?”

  I thought about it, analyzing myself. “No,” I admitted with a frown. “Thinking about it makes me feel sick. The rush was nice, but I don’t have a hankering for more or anything.”

  Phix nodded. “Then you should be fine.” We sailed through the air, preferring silence. “Should be…” I heard Phix say in a softer tone, as if speaking to herself.

  “Just keep an eye out for avenging angels. Or demons.” I thought about Aphrodite. “And Olympians, I guess.”

  I didn’t necessarily want to meet with Fabrizio, but I’d promised, and I had also learned that ignoring problems from the Vatican Shepherds only served to exponentially increase them. So, I’d find out what had Fabrizio concerned and then get back to saving my vampires and ninjas, interrogating a Nephilim, and saving Eae’s life. Only then could I focus on what to do about Lucky and the Divines.

  I hefted the Nephilim cuffs in my hand, thinking. My father had been a Nephilim. Maybe my mother had studied these cuffs in her laboratory. Solomon’s Temple might have more answers than I had originally thought. I could also ask Last Breath to do some digging for me while I finished my other errands.

  20

  Phix had dropped me off outside the church, promising to scout out the city in an attempt to locate any of the Sins.

  Not knowing what else to do, I knocked on the massive doors to A2C2. My clothes were a mess, and I needed a shower. I glanced down at my demon sensing boots, frowning. They were of no use in detecting arch-class beings, but they might give me a warning if any of the assassins Legion had warned about decided to try anything inadvisable. So far, the demons hadn’t attacked my people. Just the Nephilim.

  I would focus on the arrest warrants from Heaven and Hell once I knew my people were safe and secure at Castle Dracula. In a way, I might have inadvertently discovered a solution to the Nephilim assassins. Use the Dracula shtick of waving my hand in front of their faces and calling them to my side of the battle lines. I would still have to worry about the angels, but my people would be safer.

  I realized I wasn’t staring at my boots, but the actual steps beneath me. This spot, exactly, was where I had been abandoned by my parents as a child. This spot was where I, as an adult, had raged at the doors through some crazy time distortion in Solomon’s Doors, wanting nothing more than to hug my baby self and give her a word of loving encouragement. Instead, I had become the monster who infamously terrorized the church that night—the source of my own childhood nightmare.

  I shuddered, shaking off the thought as the door opened. A wizened old woman peered out at me from the gloomy, candle-lit interior, like it was some medieval castle. “You,” she rasped in a pious tone.

  “Me, Greta. It’s so nice to see you,” I lied, cursing my luck. “Is that a new rosary?”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “This is the Lord’s house. You are not welcome here.”

  I blinked, hearing a group of children walking with their nanny down the sidewalk behind me. “I see your wrinkles and your fond feelings for me have only increased in your old age—”

  “Tithe and repent your sins,” she snapped, waving a golden cup in front of my face.

  I blinked, leaning away from the gaudy cup. “Are you really trying to shake me down? In the Lord’s name?”

  She rattled the cup more aggressively, letting me know there were actually some coins and bills within. “Tithe and support Abundant Angel’s good work!” The nanny and her children had stopped to stare at me and I felt my cheeks heating up. Greta eyed the broken button on my coat. “Make it good. The Lord sees our hearts, but you’re doing your best to distract him,” she said, glaring at my chest and the minimal cleavage displayed by the crooked button.

  I narrowed my eyes, dangerously. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growled, reaching into my pocket. It was easier than arguing with her. I could always Shadow Walk into the church, pop up behind her, and pinch her ass, but then she’d really think I was the devil. I didn’t have any spare change, but I found a crumpled wad of paper. I pulled it out to discover that it was my emergency hundred-dollar bill. Greta’s eyes glittered like Smaug for a moment, zeroing in on her take—I mean, the Lord’s blessing, of course. “Here,” I snapped. “Now let me through already.”

  “Is that all? You are supposed to give ten-percent.” She eyed me up and down in a very judgmental manner. “Corners must not pay as well as they say.”

  My ears caught fire and I seriously considered smacking the dentures out of her mouth. Instead, I reached for the door and decided I was going to invite myself in. The old woman lunged in an attempt to freaking bite me, of all tactics, but I managed to shift my hand to a section of the door above her head. I abruptly felt a burning sensation on my fingertips and noticed a rune come to life on the interior wall behind Greta. My eyes widened in alarm and I grabbed Greta by the shoulder as my hair began to rise up at a sudden wave of electric energy in the air. I opened my mouth to warn her but God was simply not on my side this morning.r />
  An invisible fist struck me in the gut, sending me tumbling down the stone stairs to bang the back of my head on the hard ground. Fortunately for her, I had managed to pull Greta away from the attack, but unfortunately for me, she fared better since I’d lost my grip after the metaphysical blow. She hadn’t even lost her balance. I propped myself on my elbows, staring up the stairs at the door, blinking languidly as my vision tunneled and spun. My fingers tingled but they weren’t injured, and the electric energy in the air seemed to have condensed into that single strike and then dissipated.

  What the hell had just happened? Had I triggered a defense ward on the church?

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” the walking nanny asked, looming over me. “You took quite the fall.” She held out a five-dollar-bill, waving it back and forth like bacon to a dog. “Here. Take this and go get something warm to eat. There is no shame in living on the streets, but that is no excuse to attack an old woman.”

  I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth. I sat up, swatted the nanny’s hand away, and glared up at Greta, who was now shaking an admonishing finger at me. “Harlot! Jezebel!” she shrieked, loud enough to cause the nanny and kids to grow silent, stop, and stare. I felt them back away from me like I was a contagious leper.

  “Oh, hell no!” I growled, climbing to my feet and ignoring the wave of dizziness that overcame me as I stormed up the stairs in a weaving march of violence incarnate.

  Greta’s face paled and she clutched her golden cup to her chest, backing towards the open doorway and screaming at the top of her lungs. “Father David! I’m being attacked!”

  I heard shouting from within the church as I reached the top of the steps. I paused, waiting for my vision to steady, and scanned the doorway more carefully, looking for other runes I might trigger. “What is wrong with you, Greta?” I demanded. “Why would you shout such horrible things?”

  Fabrizio came skidding to a halt beside her. He saw me, blinked, and then glanced back at the rune I had triggered. It was no longer visible, but it confirmed my thoughts. Fabrizio had put it there. Why? And why had it affected me? The church welcomed dozens of strangers each week, so it couldn’t be an all-encompassing ward designed to block out all non-approved members. Even Freaks were welcomed with open arms here. Then again, it wasn’t a day of service, so maybe Fabrizio had amplified it. Or the news he wanted to share with me was so dire that it had made him paranoid.

  Father David peered his head out for a second, saw me, and then flashed me an awkward, goofy smile. “Good morning, Callie. It’s so good to see you.”

  I grunted. “Likewise,” I said, dryly, rubbing the goose egg on the back of my head. My dizziness had faded and I didn’t feel nauseated, so the prognosis was probably just a funcussion.

  Greta made a moaning sound, clutched her chest, and then dramatically cowered against the wall in theatrical fear. “Oh, praise the Lord,” she moaned, really hamming it up. “I thought she was going to kill me!”

  “What is wrong with you?” I demanded, taking an aggressive step forward.

  Fabrizio was suddenly blocking the entrance with his arms outstretched. “How about we take a walk, Callie. Let cooler heads prevail.”

  “Fine!” I growled, glaring at Greta. “Tell the spiteful, racketeering, mafia hag to give me back my money.”

  Fabrizio arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  I nodded, pointing an accusing finger at her. “She made me pay a cover charge for Club Salvation, here, demanding that I tithe to get in. Pretty sure that, although tithing is encouraged, it is never used as a bludgeon or a threat. Or maybe I’m just old fashioned.”

  Father David shot Greta a stern look. “Is this true, Greta?”

  Greta turned to shoot me a hateful scowl that only I could see, and then turned to give Father David the warmest, most grandmotherly, charitable smile I had ever seen outside of politics and infomercials. “I asked the woman—”

  “Callie!” I growled. “You know my damned name!” Fabrizio gave me a subtle shake of his head and his eyes flicked past my shoulder in a meaningful way. I heard the children murmuring amongst themselves, still standing behind us with the nanny, watching the free show. I folded my arms and imagined eating Greta’s heart. Raw.

  “I asked the woman,” Greta repeated in a more forceful tone, pretending she was the only one who hadn’t heard me shout my name, “if she would be willing to chip in for the youth choir’s trip to St. Louis next month. I may have been a bit forceful, but you know how protective I am of the little children.”

  Fabrizio gave me a wary look. “Well, good job, Callie. Thank you for supporting the choir. Now, let’s go—”

  “I want my money back. And an apology,” I said, firmly.

  Father David sucked in a breath and Fabrizio closed his eyes for a moment, begging the Lord for patience. “The choir really could use your help, Callie.”

  I settled Father David with a warm smile of my own. “This is the first time I’ve heard anything about a choir. Greta just lied to your face, Father David.”

  “I would never!” she shrieked. “Horrid, horrid woman!”

  I held out my palm. “Money. Now. I worked very hard for it. On the streets, as you so eloquently put it, Greta.”

  Father David blanched at that bit of information and gave Greta a stern glare. “Return her money, Greta.”

  Her face darkened for a moment, but no one else seemed to notice. She plucked a five-dollar-bill from the cup and handed it to Fabrizio. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself,” she muttered, turning away to leave.

  “I’ll be happy when I get the other ninety-five, woman. I gave you a hundred.”

  Greta froze and I thought she might actually make a run for it. Then she glanced down into the cup, feigning surprise. “My mistake.” She pulled out the hundred and handed it to Father David.

  He studied her with a disappointed look. Then he held it out to me. “My apologies for her…mistake,” he said.

  I waved a hand, dismissively. “No worries, Father David. Keep it. I just wanted to make sure it was in safe hands.” Greta actually shrieked before storming back into the church. I winked at Father David. “I’d think twice about sending the choir to St. Louis. Dangerous place these days.”

  He frowned. “I haven’t heard anything on the news…”

  I leaned closer, speaking in a low tone. “The kind of danger that is too…Freaky to show up in the news,” I said.

  His face paled and he looked sharply at Fabrizio. The First Shepherd nodded. “I second Callie’s advice.”

  “I…see,” Father David murmured. “I apologize for Greta’s poor attitude. It is her grandson’s birthday and she has been unable to reach him. He is not answering his phone and it is troubling her greatly.”

  I shrugged. “Not my problem. I’m sure Yahn will call her when he’s got time. He’s probably busy with his girlfriends.” In my anger at the old hag, I’d almost forgotten that Yahn, a shifter dragon from St. Louis, was her grandson. In fact, Greta had lived in St. Louis before deciding to move her crotchety ass to my city. She was also close with Eae, which I had definitely forgotten about until this exact moment. I suddenly felt very, very guilty.

  Had…she felt him get injured? Was that what had her all bitter and cruel? Eae had been her guardian angel for some time now. I wasn’t sure how permanent that was, because I never saw him with her. But he had been working closely with Abundant Angel, so maybe his job requirements had broadened to serve the church while watching over Greta.

  Nevertheless, I’d almost killed her angel this morning. Maybe her poor attitude was actually justified, whether she knew it or not. I really hoped she couldn’t see some angelic stain to my aura or she was liable to begin telling stories about how I’d been an accomplice in the beating of her guardian angel.

  Fabrizio was staring at me with a grim frown. The door to the church had closed and we were standing on the steps. “Hi…” I said, awkwardly. “Did you ask me something? I hit my head when
I fell, so I’m kind of spacey right now.”

  “Did you say girlfriends? Plural?”

  I shrugged, realizing Yahn’s relationship status had startled him. “No one really knows, to be honest. Dragons look at romantic relationships a lot differently than we do. Yahn seems to be in a throuple with the Reds, twin sisters and shifter dragons, from St. Louis who work with Nate Temple. Or maybe they’re just teens having some fun. Never seemed relevant to ask. Until I find them naked in my bed, I couldn’t care less. In Yahn’s case, dreams do come true—and I do mean that in all its clever interpretations.”

  He blushed at my phrasing. “Dragons,” he said, deadpan. “Greta’s grandson is a dragon.”

  I smiled. “Keep up, old man. He’s a rainbow dragon. He can change colors like a chameleon, camouflaging at will. He can even be transparent if he wants to. The perfect spy. Incredibly rare, apparently.”

  Fabrizio nodded, thoughtfully, looking more familiar with Yahn’s military capabilities than his love life. “I think I need an espresso. Or whatever offensive re-creation they have of it here in America. I’m a glutton for punishment, but caffeine is caffeine.”

  I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “I love you unconditionally, Meatball. But I am on a time crunch.”

  21

  We had made small talk about dragons, my ninjas, and vague allusions to an increased number of demon sightings in the city while walking to a nearby coffee shop. The Brewbacca wasn’t my usual haunt, but the sign had a Wookie in Ray Bans sipping a coffee, so it earned my vote. Everyone inside smelled like fresh soil and marijuana, and wore enigmatic emblems of the Hippie Trinity, a powerful trifecta of beanies, beards, and Birkenstocks, so I knew the beans had been officially blessed by the Vegan, the Burning Man, and the Hipster Spirit.

  Fabrizio was a Star Trek fan, so I had to bully him through the door with a Gibbs swat to the back of the head.