The Fox and the Falcon (No Other Gods #2)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I muttered into the computer screen. My fingers tapped restlessly on the coffee table of my apartment. I had no phone, as I’d fallen into a pattern of abandoning every smartphone to the gutters or grassy plains of realms to which I didn’t belong. I’d tried Kirby four times, but they hadn’t answered. On my third call video call to Nia, relief flooded me as the chime of confirmation pinged and her face flooded the screen.

“Marlow!” she gasped in surprise. I looked up at her chin as she moved quickly down whatever fluorescent-lit corridor illuminated her path. Her screen was all whites and grays apart from the bits of her neck and hair. I heard the bar-click of a double door before daylight sun hit her face. “You’d better be dying.”

I blinked at her in open-mouthed dismay. “Are you okay?”

“I’m in a meeting! I have ten minutes left in my workday. Aren’t you supposed to be going on some grand escape or getaway or something with your mysterious friend?”

She might as well have hit the mute button. I was rendered speechless.

“Mar!” Nia demanded. “My boss is going to have questions, and I’m sure I won’t have a good answer. I came into work hungover and am leaving a meeting early because my phone wouldn’t stop going off.”

I attempted to summon saliva but failed. I looked up to Silas, who must have understood my nonverbal plea, as he quietly fetched a cup and filled it with water from my kitchen sink. He’d barely set it down before I asked, “Why are you hungover?”

She smacked her lips. “Did you not have as many pina coladas as the rest of us last night? You lucky bitch. Now, how long are you going to be gone, and why couldn’t you wait twenty minutes for me to finish work before you told me.” Her tone was more accusation than question.

I didn’t know where to start piecing together the nonsensical information, but supposed it didn’t matter. The baffling nonexistence of time would have to go high up on the shelf above the reality of estries, the activity of angels and demons, the ruling gods, and the bits and pieces of some Christian folklore that had damned me to be little more than a marionette strung by puppeteers throughout the centuries.

“Nia, I need you to listen to me carefully.”

Any sisterly irritation she’d possessed evaporated. She leveled the camera as she looked into my eyes through the screen. “Tell me.”

I took a steadying breath. It had been so long since I’d been at their barbeque. I had no idea what day it was supposed to be, or what either of them should have been doing. I could have sworn we’d met on a Sunday, watched the news, eaten shish kebabs, gotten drunk on pina coladas, and watched my doxxing over national news on the Lord’s day, but I couldn’t be sure. If today were Monday, then Kirby would be at work. Their schedule was unpredictable, as it fluctuated with the veterinary hospital. “I need you to get Kirby to your house as soon as possible. Whatever it takes. Create an emergency. Lie. But get home, get them there, and I’ll meet you.”

I didn’t know what was common of friends, as I’d never truly had close ones before them. I also wasn’t sure what was expected of siblings, though I’d seen Nia interact with her brothers. Whatever we had between us, it was better. It was purer. It was chosen.

Nia didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“It’ll take me three minutes to get to my car, and fifteen minutes to get home—twenty depending on traffic. If they’re in surgery, I’ll call the front office and fake a death in their family.”

I wanted to cry, but couldn’t spare the time. “And Darius?”

“Working from home today,” Nia said. Her breath quickened, afternoon light filtering into the camera lens from behind her and making it difficult for me to see her face. “Marlow, are you safe?”

I looked up at Silas, then back at Nia. “Honestly, I don’t know. But I’m not the primary target right now.” I couldn’t settle between Silas’s creased, worried face and Nia’s. I thought of Caliban’s final words as I asked, “Nia, I know you’re not religious. Will you do something for me, no questions asked?”

She made a disconcerted noise as she reached her car. It took a few fuzzy motions of her positioning her phone onto its dock somewhere between her vents and dashboard before she shoved the key into her ignition and the engine purred to life. “Aren’t I already doing that? How much weirder can it get than leaving work and lying to Kirby?”

“A lot,” I said solemnly.

Nia had put the car in reverse. I’d heard the shift. I’d watched how she’d put her hand onto the passenger’s seat and looked over the shoulder. The gravity in my voice forced her to relax her arm. She put the car into park and looked at me once more. Sweat beaded on her forehead as a long day of the car baking in the sun pressed in on her. She settled into her seat and looked through the camera and into my soul.

“Tell me.”

“Nia, it’s going to sound—”

“Tell me,” she repeated.

I resisted the urge to look back up at Silas. I knew Azrames and Fauna were furious with me. I knew the world was in shambles. The pantheons were in upheaval. The first of the dominos had been pushed, and the others would continue to fall, whether we acted or not. Maybe the others hated me, but even if I’d hurt Caliban, even if I’d left him there in the metaphysical shop to clean up the debris and bloodshed, I believed him. He said he loved me. He said he’d protect my loved ones. And no matter how much turmoil or pain or confusion I felt, I clung to that like a drowning swimmer might grip a life raft in a storm.

“I know you grew up going to Sunday services,” I began. Her amused sound was encouraging. She and Darius were Christmas and Easter churchgoers, only to appease her mother. Perhaps I would have said the same if my parents and I had been on better terms. “Nia, I’m about to say something truly crazy. Crazier than anything you’ve ever heard. And I need you to believe that as soon as I get to your house, I’ll explain it all. But you have to listen to me, no questions asked.”

Her mouth formed a flat, serious line. She dipped her chin, unblinking. The whir of her air-conditioning was the only sound between us.

“Pray,” I said.

She blinked in rapid surprise.

“I need you to rebuke angels, and pray for demonic protection.”

True shock plastered her face. “Marlow—”

“I promise you that I understand exactly how insane it sounds. I swear to you that as someone who grew up with crosses mounted on my wall and Jesus fish bumper stickers and hymns on the radio, I know how terrifying it would be to hear this from anyone. And I could get into a lot of things. I could get into how mysteriously my life has turned out. How my writing career took off. How I’ve lost time where no one has heard from me. How a wild, freckled woman too beautiful for this world smoked a bowl on your couch and said far too many peculiar things. I can, and I will. But I need you to trust me on this, at least in the time it takes for me to get from my apartment to your house where I can be with the three of you. Nia, please. I love you more than family, because you’re the family I chose. I will keep you safe at any cost. Tell me you trust me.”

The vibration of vents was the only sound between us for five seconds, then ten, then twenty.

“Nia, please—”

“Okay.”

I looked at her with an amalgamation of skepticism and hope. My mouth pinched, teeth chewing on my lips from the inside to prevent myself from screaming at her in urgency, but the panicked need in my unspoken words wasn’t lost on her. I saw her sift through the information. I watched her mouth flatten, her brows gather, her eyes set before she took in a short, affirming breath.

“Demons,” she repeated, tone impressively neutral. “Anything specific?”

I smacked my lips in a grateful gasp, mouth and eyes dry as I struggled under the love and trust. “Caliban,” I said quickly. “Caliban and Azrames. Ask them to help you. Welcome them into your car, your home. And again: rebuke any angels.” I knew those weren’t their true names, but I believed they’d come. Caliban would answer because he loved me, and I loved him. And Azrames, despite his rage, was my friend. I trusted him. And I knew he understood what it was like to watch someone you loved suffer when they were innocent.

Nia, Kirby, and Darius had no wards. They had no training. Betty had done so much to set up her shop and home against any and all attacks, but Heaven had waited until her heavy hitter was out of the picture. The infernal wrath that would always answer her call for dark divinity had been detained at her time of need. Caliban and Azrames would not fail a call again.

“Caliban and Azrames,” Nia repeated back to me. She gearbacked out of her space with more speed or caution than any normal human would hope from a parking lot. She looked into her phone once more before saying, “I’ll keep trying Kirby. You’d better be at my place when I get back.”

She tapped the screen and her face disappeared. The chime of disconnection underlined her departure. I looked up at Silas. “Can you keep her safe on the highway?”

He grimaced. “No.”

Disgust splashed through me. I clutched the couch and coffee table alike as I got to my feet, facing the angel standing in my kitchen. I wasn’t sure whether to be terrified or enraged as my only resource, my lone ally, turned down my first and most important request.

“I have to stay with you,” he clarified. “I’ll get you directly outside of Nia’s front door, though she’ll have to see me and invite me in by name if she’s truly rebuked angels. But I can’t leave you alone. Not only for your safety, but for mine.”

My brow furrowed.

“I’ve fallen with no net, Marlow. I betrayed Heaven and Hell in one fell swoop. There’s nowhere for me to go. Heaven wants you dead. Every other realm is invested in your survival. If I stick with you, I might survive, too.”

“How noble.” I narrowed my eyes.

It wasn’t a coldness that entered the room, but a pain. Not a deep, penetrating betrayal, but a cut I recognized. It was the hurt of someone who’d never come to expect anything different. It was in his eyes, the sinking of his shoulders, the softening of his face. It was the hollowness that followed rejection.

I’d seen it in the mirror. Someone who hadn’t felt love, nor believed themself deserving of it. His wounds were shallow, because this was the only love he’d been shown. He’d been used and cast aside before, as had I. It was no one’s fault. It was just our role in the world as secondary players.

“Silas.” I moved toward him. This time it was me who extended my hand. He looked down at the offer and frowned without taking it. I left it outstretched. Maybe it was because I’d already lost my mind, or because I was so overwhelmed by demons and pantheons and deities that I truly had no filter. I spoke from a deep-seated place, telling him what I’d always needed to hear for myself as I said, “You are sovereign in and of yourself. Your existence has meaning. Not because anyone else grants it to you, but because you deserve it. And maybe that’s a journey we’re both on.” I made a few more beckoning motions with my hand, measuring the uncertainty, the kicked-dog energy in his tension as he looked down at my hand. It took a long while for him to slip a few reluctant fingers into my palm.

I latched onto them, gripping his hand fully. He looked at the hand holding his, then up at me.

“You’re an angel without a kingdom,” I said quietly. “I’m a girl caught in a myth. Maybe we’re both orphans. But right now, I need you as much as you need me.”

His fingers tightened around mine. Fear pulsed through him as he squeezed my hand. “I don’t know what to do, Marlow.”

I laughed a low, short, desperately sad laugh. I wasn’t shocked in the slightest when the burst of emotion resulted in the prick of impending tears rather than a smile. “Neither do I. But we can figure it out. And it starts with making sure that a few innocent souls aren’t slaughtered in the crossfire. If you’re my friend, you’ll help me protect Nia and Kirby. And if you don’t…”

“Then I’m no more your ally than the ones who lied to you,” he agreed quietly.

“Can you see other things?” I asked. “Can you see Nia and Kirby? Can you see if—”

I was cut short as he closed his eyes. A hypnotic effect overtook him as his eyes moved rapidly beneath his closed lids. It took him the barest of moments to provide an answer.

“Caliban is already with Nia,” he said, eyes still closed. I wasn’t sure how he saw them, but I believed him. I wanted to cry with relief knowing that no matter how crazy Nia thought I was, she’d prayed. She’d done exactly as I asked.

“And Kirby?”

Silas nodded. “It’s not the same. Nia asked for protection by name. I can see them so much more clearly. It’s meant to be a shield against us crossing certain thresholds. But with Kirby—”

“They don’t know to ask,” I said breathlessly. “Silas, can you get me to them?”

He opened his eyes. “They’re in the middle of surgery. They’re elbow-deep in the guts of a horse. If we—”

I broke free from his hand, staring up at him. “Would angels stop? They can’t be seen by human eyes. Would anything prevent them from bursting in on Kirby? Heaven’s soldiers came for Betty. They’re coming for anyone close to me. Betty is a witch. She’s the most powerful human I know. But if we don’t arm Kirby with information, then they’re more vulnerable than they’ve ever been. Tell me Heaven won’t hit them next.”

Silas looked at me helplessly.

“I wish I were wiser,” I said honestly. “I wish I had answers. All of you—Fauna, Az, Caliban, you—you’ve been alive for forever. You’re drowning in answers, in rationale, in time. I can only tell you what I know right now. I know that I love those on the immortal plane, and those in the mortal realm. And right now, it’s those on the mortal plane that need my help. Nia and Kirby don’t deserve to die in my crossfire, just like no angel or valkyrie deserved to fall in battle because some supreme god commanded their bloodshed. My friends are innocent.”

Silas attempted to rub the back of his neck with his hand, but I caught it before it landed. I squeezed it and forced him to look at me.

“We need to be on the same page.”

“And what page is that?”

My smile flickered weakly. “You see me here, in my human form. As far as I know, you‘ve never dealt with me before this cycle. I trust you with who I am right now in this lifetime. That includes the friends I have right now, the loved ones I have right now. You’ve poked through my memories, but this is the only life you’ve interacted with, right?”

His golden eyes dimmed ever so slightly. “You’re the only version of you I’ve ever known.”

“I agree with Fauna,” I said. “This cycle is the cycle, but not for the reasons they think.”

He looked down at the small hand still clutching his, then back up at me, raising his brows skeptically. He was too big for my apartment, too glimmering, too powerful for the modernity of the clean lines and sleek furniture. The clock on the microwave behind him clicked forward another minute, heightening my anxiety. Despite all of that, he remained too small for me. He may have been centuries old, but his age matched that of my inner unhealed child. I squeezed his palm more tightly, which only stirred the hurt on his face.

“This cycle matters more than any other because my eyes are fully open. Not just for me, but for all of us. No one is in the dark this time.”

His mouth twisted. “None of us,” he repeated, feeling the liberation in his words.

“Come with me as someone free. Someone who doesn’t have to do what they’re told. Someone who wants to help the world be better. But please, start with two innocent souls who do not deserve pain incurred by powerful forces over which they have no control.”

“And what?” he said quietly. “Help you give birth to the antichrist?”

I would have chuckled but didn’t have it in me. I waited for his crown-gold eyes to meet mine before I said, “I know you realize how many realms are at stake. Help me save my friends. After that, it isn’t just Heaven and Hell that hang in the balance. It isn’t the realms and their individuality. Something so much more precious is on the line, and I wouldn’t have understood it if you hadn’t showed me my past lives. We’re positioning ourselves against the highest gods for the most valuable thing of all.”

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a long, slow breath. His chest expanded, eyes settling more deeply on mine. “And what is that?”

“Free will,” I responded.

The clock on the microwave changed again. Then again. Anxiety took me as I thought of Nia in her car, assuaged only by the inside knowledge that Caliban was in her car without her knowing how divinely protected she was. My mouth worked against the urge to shout out as I thought of the remaining players in the game. Azrames, despite his anger, would not ignore Kirby if they called on him. If their arms were deep in the intestine of some horse, we truly gambled on who would answer the call sooner: Heaven, in the knowledge that their angels had been slain, or us.

“Okay,” he said at long last. “We save your friend. Because we know what it is to be used in the war of realms against our will.”

“First, we save them,” I said, giving his fingers a final tense squeeze. “Then, we figure out what the hell we’re going to do with the realms.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “The lore always said the antichrist would be born from a whore.”

I fought the urge to drop his hand, to elbow him in the nose until his face was bloodied, to storm from the room and deal with it myself. But I knew he was my key to fast travel, if I hoped to reach Kirby in time. So instead, I said, “It will be.”

He looked up at me skeptically.

“Get ready, angel,” I said through clenched teeth, squeezing his hand. “The antichrist is the catalyst for the end of the world, and I’ll be damned if I’ve been shoved into being the vessel for a goddamn baby. Consider this my rebirth. Here the fuck I am.”