Chapter Four #3
I suppressed a chill. I didn’t like arachnids and was decidedly not thrilled by the witch she was proposing. Then again, I supposed most people felt the same way about demons.
Another glance around the car reminded me how normal everything was. Post-work traffic pressed in on the lanes, separated by faded white lines. Very human architecture loomed in the distance. Seventeen minutes remained on the GPS. Yet, I had evidence of godhood on either side of me.
“No. I don’t follow any witches,” I said, realizing I’d skipped steps one through ten when plugging into the veil, forgoing the most obvious bridges between my world and theirs.
Xuan said, “When it comes to the Left Hand Path, she’s the best in the business. At least, for AFAB practitioners. I don’t know about you, but I don’t hang out with a lot of men.”
I wanted to agree, but my current supernatural company may have contradicted me. Instead, I asked, “Can you get her here?”
Xuan loosed a low, long whistle. “When you say urgent, you mean—”
“Name your dollar signs. I’ll send you an address right now. Please forward it to her and come within the hour to help me with my…demon problem.”
Azrames lifted his hands in a dramatic showcase of his innocence, brows lifted as he mouthed, Hey!
I waved him away. “Can you make it happen?”
For the first time, she looked completely serious. “Right now?”
“Please,” I asked. “We’re getting there in the next fifteen or so minutes. I’ll pay whatever insane ‘drop everything and sprint’ fee you have.”
“Yeah,” Xuan replied. I watched her do some mental calculations before saying, “Just let me talk to my guide real quick. I have to make sure you’re not a serial killer before I waste both of our time. Or make her very, very rich. One or the other. What’s your name again?”
“Marlow.”
I received looks from both the angel and demon in the cab, but I flipped them the bird. I’d given Xuan my name on our first meeting already. Besides, if we were about to bring her into the fold, we’d need to be able to trust her.
“Wait.” She squinted at the phone. “Are you…”
“Merit Finnegan. That’s me.”
Xuan clicked her tongue. “Should I call you back on this number?”
“Yes, please.”
“Great. I’ll let you know if we’re both on our way, or that I’ve come down with a rare and sudden flu and can never speak to you again. Hang tight, author person. Be right back.” She disconnected the receiver, leaving me alone to deal with the glares of a lightly amused demon.
“An exorcism?” he repeated.
The tires sounded against the rumble strips as Kirby dared a look over their shoulder.
“It seemed like the most logical way to get them here quickly! Especially if it’s a demonolater. For now, just…focus on protecting the car, and let me handle this.”
He relaxed slightly. “I heard that part. A demonolater…all right, maybe I won’t have to kill you yet.”
“As if Caliban would let you,” I murmured, slipping Kirby’s phone into my pocket.
He sighed dramatically. “What a deeply unfair and entirely accurate wall to hide behind, you beautiful coward.” Azrames leaned toward the front seat, addressing Nia and Kirby as he asked, “We’re going to need some more immediate allies. Nia, what’s the pixie situation in your neighborhood?”
Nia stared at him unblinkingly.
“Vampires?” he tried again. “I don’t think the river’s going to have anything good. The kelpies and n?kken will have moved into more rural areas… Have you seen any goblins? You’re too far from the Appalachians for Mothman or any of the American banshees. What about—”
“Let me stop you there, horned stranger,” Nia said, twisting to face us. “Mar, how sober do I need to be for this?”
I shrugged. “Get shitfaced. We brought half of the cabinet. If things get serious, ole’ Sparkles here can always sober you up.”
“Ask me how I know,” Kirby said, before muttering something about how they’d wasted a bottle of wine since they couldn’t drive drunk.
“Not loving the Sparkles thing—” Silas lifted a finger in protest but was cut off before he could finish his thought.
Nia remained deadpan. “Great. Ask me again when we get to our second location and I can down the bottle of tequila. If you want vampires and werewolves and the pope, you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself.”
“The pope is human,” Silas muttered below his breath.
Azrames reclined back into his seat, brushing a thumb over his lips unconsciously, and I wished he hadn’t.
I knew he was Fauna’s paramour, and that I was eternally spoken for, but he had no business being that sexy.
The buzz I’d acquired at Nia’s was already tasting like I needed my head shoved into the pillows while a charcoal demon held my hips and railed me from behind.
I knew from the way Nia was vying for a bottle of Don Julio that she felt the same.
We were struggling, but damn it if we weren’t doing our best.
“I think I have a solution,” he said, eyes sharpening once more as he homed in on me.
“A solution to…” I coughed and thought, Please, don’t be telepathic. I can’t handle you reading my mind right now.
Az stretched his fingers toward me.
I slipped mine into his, and he smiled.
“We can hold hands later, Marmar. Give me the phone you stole.”
I closed my eyes, scrunching my face in unspoken embarrassment.
He smirked as I retracted my hand and fished in my pocket for Kirby’s cell.
I passed it off to him, opening my mouth to give him the password.
Apparently, it wasn’t necessary. Within a moment, he found whatever he was looking for, before I could mumble, Are we there yet?
“I’d love to say this is convenient,” he muttered, “but I sure as hell don’t believe in coincidences. What are the odds she’d take a last-minute ambassador mission to the States mere moments after your display in the Phoenician realm?”
“Who?” I asked, wriggling my fingers for the phone.
He tilted it toward me, and I wrapped my fingers tightly around the edges, frowning at what I saw. “Alessia Clovis?”
I wanted to pay close attention, but a yawn took hold. I couldn’t name the last time I’d had a good night’s sleep in my own bed.
Nia found my yawn contagious. She stretched in her seat, still twisted toward Az as she clarified, “Clovis, like, the human rights activist?”
“The women’s rights activist,” Azrames corrected.
“She won’t be interested in Silas’s or my involvement.
I’m not even convinced she’ll care to hear you’re the Prince’s human.
But you’re well connected, and you’re the catalyst for what may very well be the apocalypse, and you’re a lady.
I think you’ll be able to get an audience with her. ”
I folded my arms and slouched down as far as I could. I just wanted to close my eyes, if only for a moment. “You want me to meet with…what even is she? A UN ambassador? What’s her official title?”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, which I found delightful. I relaxed into him as he answered. “What isn’t she? Alessia is an international human rights lawyer, specializing in women’s justice.”
I didn’t think I was that drunk, or that sleepy, but I didn’t see how his thoughts were connected.
I wished he’d spit it out. I prompted, “I’m struggling to believe that an international rights lawyer is here because of me.”
“She’s in possession of something invaluable. If Azrames is thinking what I’m thinking, you’re going to need it,” Silas said.
My eyes were still closed, so I couldn’t be sure what was happening, but I jostled lightly at the sensation of a second arm.
From the front, Nia’s voice faded as I began to fall asleep. She asked, “She hates gods and men and wants to stand up for women. Is she Medusa or something?”
Azrames’s gentle chuckle rocked me deeper into my nap. “I never believed Fauna when she mocked you, Marmar, but I’m starting to think your friends really are smarter.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue. I left them to fight it out while the highway cradled me to sleep.
Silas smirked. “No argument from your better halves, Mar. Your friends are quick on the draw.”
“Straight to hell, all of you,” I barely said as my consciousness slipped.
“I’d love to,” Azrames mock-pouted, tousling my hair like a child before saying, “but unfortunately, I’m busy helping my favorite human.”
Nia slouched down in her chair. “Hey, at least you’re the favorite.”
“And Heaven’s least favorite.” Silas joined the roast.
Before I succumbed to my nap, I grumbled six final words. “You can all go fuck yourselves.”