Chapter 19
Chapter 19
B ack at his place, Ethan wandered into the living room after kissing a sleeping Tuesday on the cheek. She had muttered something about needing to catch a few winks, had hit the bed as soon as they’d gotten back, and two minutes later she was out. The woman had a talent for dropping into a dead sleep.
Tugging off his shirt, he tucked it behind his head and slumped down on the sofa into a comfortable position. Then he took out his phone and checked texts and emails. He’d gotten an email marked urgent from CJ with intel about Anyx. The dark witch had looked her up in the Archives’ vampire room. He’d checked The Vampire Codex , the book on all vampires—similar to the witches’ Book of All Spells —and this was what he’d found:
Anyx—no known surname following marriage to Ethan Pierce in 1540 and subsequent divorce in 1600—has been observed to collect memento mori and death spells. 1720, she was stopped from using a plague hex on a village and was added to the Council’s watch list. One incident in 1878 with a volatile organic poison resulted in the Archives seizing her eclectic collection from home in London, but other residences were not checked.
The vampire has remained under the radar but must always be kept on the watch list for occult fascination with bringing pain, suffering and death, or even possible experiments that could lead to mass genocide.
Known residences in Tampa, Florida, and Paris, France. Known former love affairs with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Rasputin and Henri Telluir, a geophysicist of little renown. Current relationships unknown.
Ethan slapped the phone against his chest and muttered, “Anyx, what the hell have you gotten in to over the centuries?”
And had the book on vampires been updated recently? He’d thought it was a living book, always updating and rewriting the vampire history. Yet if Anyx was involved with Gazariel, the book had missed that. Unless Gazariel had lied to them about their relationship?
No, Ethan had seen the two in the restaurant. There was something going on between them.
As he’d told Tuesday, he’d witnessed Anyx’s strange fascination for death early on and had extricated himself from a relationship that had no longer felt comfortable or safe for him. He and Anyx had lived as husband and wife for sixty years! And for the most part, they had loved and enjoyed one another’s company. But they had spent a lot of time apart as Ethan served his tribe elders and fought in the Blood Wars. And Anyx, well, she’d traveled and tended her collection and kept it away from him until that one night he’d stumbled upon it.
Perhaps Gazariel was doing much the same after learning what a morbid and wicked vampiress he’d gotten involved with. Surely, for a demon who thrived on love and adoration, Anyx would present a challenge to his vanity.
It saddened him now to know that his ex-wife was so...strange. So dark and apparently evil. Was there a way to appeal to her? If she had been gifted the book with the Final Days code by The Beautiful One was there a chance Ethan could talk her into handing it over to him?
Judging from the report he doubted that would happen. She didn’t seem mentally stable. So he had to set aside any lingering compassion he may have for the vampiress in order to help the greater good. And he could do that. He just...didn’t want to know her reason why she had such a morbid fascination. He really didn’t.
He texted CJ back with a request to recheck The Vampire Codex for updates, and for Anyx’s Paris address. The report did not list it, but it should be entered in to a database somewhere in the Council’s vast system. He’d send out a team to bring her in, but he didn’t expect to find her. Something in his gut told him she had already received the gift. And that she may very well be trying to crack the code right now.
Heart sinking, Ethan clicked off his phone. He should be out there, looking for Anyx and Gazariel. But he had a solid plan for tomorrow, and it would work. He had to be patient.
There was one thing he could do. He paged through the dossier on the mission file on his phone and landed on the name of the muse who had created the book of names and sigils.
“Cassandra Stephens.”
Stephans’ location was currently unknown, but she had formerly lived in London and Berlin. Generally, phone numbers remained the same if the move was not a long distance. It was late, but he’d give it a try.
He dialed up the muse and as the phone rang he thought how odd it must be to know, as a muse, you were a human female—not immortal—who had been born to this realm and were connected to a specific fallen angel. And that angel’s only goal was to find his muse and impregnate her in hopes of birthing a nephilim. Nephilim were monsters, and one had actually been born years ago. Cassandra Stephens and her Fallen One had helped to destroy the monstrosity. It was a long story, but Ethan could be thankful the woman was obviously kick-ass and determined not to let a label stop her from rising above her terrible fate.
After five rings, a sleepy voice answered. Ethan apologized for the late time. He told her who he was and who he worked for. “I don’t know where you are, and I won’t ask. But I need some information about the book of angel names and sigils you created.”
“I...” A yawn was abruptly cut off. “Sorry about that. Uh, the book. It’s been a while since I’ve had my hands on it. I thought it was with Raphael?”
“It’s been stolen.”
“Ah, shit. You need my help?”
“No, we’ve got things under control. But you wrote the book. Can you tell me how you created the code to enact the Final Days or even give me the code?”
“I’m sorry, Mister Pierce. I didn’t think I was creating any such thing while writing the book. The code sort of magically formed and became the awful thing it is now. You know how this weird paranormal stuff works. Add in angelic magic and you’ve got some mysterious ineffable shit going on.”
“So, not a clue what the code is?”
“I’m really sorry.”
And if she hadn’t created the code she certainly wouldn’t have an idea if there was a way to stop it or call the whole thing off.
“I had to check.”
“I understand,” she said with another yawn. “Are you sure you don’t need help? I can hop a flight and be...heh. I don’t even know where you are.”
“I’m in Paris, and I’m not sure what you could do to help. I’ve got a crew ready to take down the demon who has the book.”
“I wish you much luck. But if the demon is no longer an angel, then you won’t be able to attract him with his muse.”
“I don’t think he ever had a muse. He fell directly to Beneath.”
“Then no, he wouldn’t have a muse. If you’ve got a Sinistari blade lying around that could prove useful as a threat against the guy.”
“Good to know. We may have one of those. Thanks, Cassandra.”
Ethan hung up, and texted CJ to check the demon room for a Sinistari blade. He recalled Bron Everhart, the same retriever who had brought Tuesday to Paris and had taken such a blade in hand a few years ago on a mission to obtain the Purgatory Heart. Such a blade was formed from the halo of the fallen angel. Those specific angels fell beyond earth and to Beneath where they became Sinistari demons, those who hunted the Fallen Ones. An angel blade was supposed to be the only thing that could kill an angel, besides a halo. It might not have the same effect on Gazariel, but it could provide another good threat besides the reckoner. It wouldn’t hurt to go in fully armed.
* * *
Prepping for tonight’s adventure involved warding herself with the obsidian and a smoky quartz, both on leather cords hung around her neck. Tuesday had found a pair of spangled black leggings at the thrift shop the day she and Ethan had gone shopping. Perfect. On top, she wore a plain black T-shirt. Because when combined with her spangled fur coat, she certainly didn’t want to overdo the sparkle.
On the other hand, some sparkly black eyeshadow was necessary. And she loved the matte violet lipstick. So did Ethan. It drew his hungry gaze, and that was all good.
She rarely drew wards on her skin, and wasn’t going to put any on until she got to the headquarters and talked with Certainly Jones. If they were going to cast a spell together, they’d need to sync wards.
Blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she checked for the alicorn, which she’d tucked at her right hip in the waistband of her leggings. And the athame she would carry in her coat pocket. Ritual weapons, not things she expected to use in defense. Maybe? She could poke an eye out with the alicorn, if necessary.
She strolled out by the bed and paused. Ethan paced before the window, back and forth from there to the record player. He didn’t notice her, and his brow was furrowed. Of course, the man must have a million things going on in his brain right now. But he seemed different than his usual stoic, controlling boss-man self.
Padding over to him and waiting until he noticed her, when he did, she tilted her head. “Tell me why you chose this particular mission to step back into fieldwork,” she asked. “Was it because the bait was so sexy and you couldn’t resist spending time with her?”
His smirk softened his tension and his shoulders dropped. He reached out a hand and she clasped it, but he didn’t tug her into an embrace. Instead, he turned to look out the window. They stood there, side by side, hand in hand, unable to pick out a star in the night sky, as the evening, while dark, was illuminated by millions of neon lights and streetlights.
“I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t washed up,” he said quietly.
The confession surprised her. Coming from such a confident and strong man? He had it all together. Except when he was winging it without a plan. Okay, so he might need some practice to get back to where he once was with the fieldwork. But washed up?
“That’s crazy. You’ve impressed me at every turn on this mission,” she said.
“I missed capturing the demon. Twice,” he said. “And I can’t seem to quit fucking the bait. Does that sound like a professional retriever to you?”
She shrugged. “Not sure the qualifications for a retriever. I assume hexing the help isn’t one of them, but it doesn’t seem to be dragging you down.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ve become lax in my methods. My targeting and reconnaissance. I don’t follow protocol—I make up my own. And—”
“And it’s been a while, so give yourself a break, will you?”
“Any breaks I take may result in the world being smothered by myriad angel wings.”
He did have a point there.
“You’ve got me by your side. That’s got to count for something.”
“It does. It really does.”
“Then we’re good to go? All confidence levels are high and alpha-charged?”
He turned, and with a sweep, lifted her by the legs and tossed her over his shoulder. Heading toward the doorway, he said, “Alpha-charged and ready to go.”
* * *
Watching Ethan organize the players in this demon-hunting mission was like watching a commander order his troops. He exuded a control and knowledge that impressed Tuesday. And everyone knew exactly what their roles were.
Far from washed up. But that he’d told her as much meant he trusted her with such knowledge. And that was something she’d treasure. His confidence.
The familiar was already on the other side of the steel door in the clean room, inside the cage with his partner, having sex. Thomas had said he’d need half an hour to accomplish the task of getting sated, then the witch could go in and invoke the spell to capture Gazariel. And Cinder, the tech guy, would then take down the building wards to facilitate it all.
Certainly Jones, the witch who would perform the invoking, paced the hallway outside the main room, head down and arms crossed over his chest. Long dark hair spilled forward and covered half his face. A particularly bold tattoo right over his carotid clued Tuesday it was a ward against vampire bites. Smart witch.
Unless of course, the witch enjoyed a bite now and then.
She should have had Ethan bite her before they’d set out for this adventure. Might have come in handy to reinforce their blood bond. As it was, she decided it was a temporary thing that only lasted about twenty-four hours. It was fun while it had lasted.
The dark witch’s pacing moved him past her.
“You don’t think you should be in there so you know when the time is right?” Tuesday asked him.
He tapped his ear, and she noticed an earbud. “I’ve got audio. And trust me, that’s as close as I need to be right now. That is one noisy woman the familiar brought along with him.”
“Well, if you need any help?”
“You stay back and keep the wards on you. If we need your assistance, we’ll ask.”
She nodded and strolled back to the steel door to lean against it. Certainly had warded her to the nines against angels, demons, light magic and dark, as well. She felt as if a suit of armor sat on her shoulders. And it was only slim protection against Gazariel’s influence should he breech the cage wards.
She’d felt those wards. They were strong. They should subdue the demon. With hope.
Glancing over her shoulder, she eyed Ethan. He was speaking to the reckoner, Savin Thorne, who had just arrived. The big man wore a bowler hat over his messy hair. A loose-fitting coat that looked cobbled from different fabrics, something a gypsy might wear, barely hung to his hips. And as he nodded and gestured with his hands while talking to Ethan, she noted the sigils, or possibly wards, drawn on the back of each of his hands. They hadn’t been there when she’d met him yesterday. She hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to actually sending the demon to Daemonia. Because without the curse lifted from her, that meant she would have to tag along.
No witch could survive in Daemonia for long. It would be a fate worse than any torture a vindictive witch hunter could mete out. She should have made it clear to Ethan that she was out if it came to that. But not like she could protest now. Such refusal would shut down the whole demon-summoning operation. Her presence was needed and it was not. Be here to sync all the magic and connect with the demon, yet don’t get so close that she scared off the demon, or got sucked into his vortex of wicked magic.
This unexpected trip to Paris had become quite the adventure. Kidnapping aside, she was glad to be here. It gave her purpose. And often, when living for so long, there were days she wondered what good she was doing the world. And since her magic was dark, it was rare she felt she did serve the world goodness.
Once, she’d been a healer and had educated women. Why had she ever stopped? Oh, right. Lack of love did tend to change a person as the years grew long.
It had never mattered to her before, but lately she wanted to do good. To change. To rise up from the darkness she had caressed and made her own over the centuries and become someone worthy of giving and receiving goodness.
And love.
The thought startled her so much that she didn’t hear Ethan call her name. Only when he gripped her wrist and bent to meet her eyes did she slip back into the present moment.
“You okay?” His gray irises were clear and focused. He may have felt washed up, but he was far from that. “I called your name twice and you’re standing right here.”
“Sorry. My mind was wandering. Yeah, I’m good.” Or at least, she was trying to be. “What if the demon won’t tell us where he put the book? Do we have a plan for bringing in the vampiress?”
“I have a containment crew on call to bring her in, but we’re having a time locating her address in the database. I have hope, though.”
“I hope your hope is effective. Because I thought you were using the reckoner as a threat.”
“CJ has some magical thumbscrews to twist if Gazariel doesn’t want to give us the information. We’ve done this before.”
“The Beautiful One is not going to give up anything without a sacrifice from me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I kind of do. He’s an asshole.”
“A Richard?”
“The number-one Richard of all Richards. He’ll ask for my heart in exchange for the book, I know it.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. If he takes your heart, it’ll return the curse to him.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he can simply tug out my heart and crush it and the curse along with it. But better he suffers and I die, than I live and he suffers.”
“Let’s not think like that. I’m going to protect you, Tuesday.”
“I can take care of myself. I’ve some powerful magic. Probably more effective against the blood demon than your dark witch pacing over there like he’s headed to his own funeral.”
“The man has a wife and children. I’m asking a lot from him.”
Yes, she recalled the feeling of overwhelming and true love she had gotten from CJ when she’d done a soul gaze on him. She wanted that kind of love. She really did.
“I still can’t allow you to work the summons,” Ethan said. “Gazariel will use your magic against us all.”
“Not if the wards on the cage hold up. Let me go at him first. Break him down.”
Ethan shook his head. “We’re doing this my way. And besides, what if he’s already given the book to Anyx? We’re going to need him intact. And no magic you can throw at him will ever convince him to talk. You know that.”
Tuesday nodded reluctantly. He was right.
“I expect to have a location on Anyx soon,” he said. “I’ve got everything under control. This is what I do, Tuesday. Trust me.”
“I do trust you. Completely.”
“Thank you. Now, you stay back and out of the way. You’ve got all the wards on?”
“I’m loaded with them. You wouldn’t be able to bite me if you wanted to.”
“I can feel that repulsion. Which is why I haven’t kissed you.”
“And here I thought you were against PDAs.”
“You can actually think that after our tryst in the alleyway? Or almost getting caught by Cinder in my office? What about in the restaurant?”
“I stand corrected. I see you’re warded as well. The reckoner do that?” She tapped his throat.
“Yes.” He stroked the lines drawn on his throat with a black felt-tip marker. She interpreted them as protective and closing, perhaps to keep him from speaking things the demon might try to trick out of him. “He suggested some additional protections to the ones I already have.”
“Tell me one thing about the vampire chick you said you loved? The one who died by biting the witch.”
“Huh?” Ethan glanced around to see if the other men were listening. They were not. “I don’t understand.”
“Did you promise to protect her always?”
“I, uh... Tuesday, you think I’m going to let you down?”
“No. I want to know if you let her down.”
“That’s cruel.”
“It might be but... I need your truth, Ethan.”
Ethan glanced to the men lingering in the hallway. None met his gaze. He lowered his voice and spoke near her ear. “I feel as though I let her down. But no, she chose that witch on the fly. I’m not sure I would have known he was a witch before she bit him, either. But I would have given my life to change it. To have been the one who took the bite and not her.”
“You loved her that much?” Tuesday slid her hand along Ethan’s cheek. Her heartbeats thudded. “More than your wife of sixty years? What about the chick who died from the blood transfusion?”
“Tuesday.” He shook his head. “As I’ve told you, I’ve loved many.”
Yes, and he’d loved a woman so much he would have died for her. And after knowing her but six months. Tuesday imagined such deep and abiding love happened only once in a man’s life. Or a woman’s. Yet he’d gone on to love others. And to experience heartbreak. And through it all, he survived. Perhaps Ethan’s heart was capable of giving love to yet another?
She daren’t dream. He would only be hurt if he fell in love with her. And he had been hurt by love more than enough times.
“You’re a good man, Ethan.” She kissed him quickly, then they turned as CJ spoke.
“The familiar is on target,” the dark witch said. “Sated and open to bridge the demon. Ethan, notify Cinder to let down the wards. I’m going in. Everyone else follow, but stay back.”
As Ethan called Cinder, they entered the clean room. The cage bars did not glow and the door was wide open. A naked woman gathered her clothing while a very naked Thomas lay sprawled on the center of the cage floor.
CJ approached the cage door. Standing aside to let the woman flee, he then gripped a bar in each hand and began to chant.
Tuesday helped the woman pull on her dress over her head. She nodded a quiet thanks, then looked to Ethan.
“You remember the way out?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Thomas will be out shortly. Stand outside the door and wait for him. Thank you.”
He held the door open and closed it behind her. Stepping up to stand beside the reckoner, Ethan crossed his arms and observed. Tuesday, back to the wall, kept a keen eye on the familiar in the cage, but also listened carefully to the Latin incantation CJ spoke. It was a standard demon-summoning spell with an adjustment to focus the reach within this realm. He battened it with protective sigils he drew in the air using a crystal wand. A white light trail followed in the wake of his movements. He traced a few of the spell tattoos on his left hand and then thrust his palm downward, facing it toward the familiar.
Thomas’s body jerked and convulsed. Naked and sweating, he was open to allow a demon entity to inhabit his body only briefly before it apported into corporeal form. A spume of red smoke spiraled up from the familiar’s pores, forming a tornado above him. The familiar opened his eyes, saw the red cloud and scrambled toward the cage door. As he fled, his body shifted, contorting and growing fur. A calico cat meowed and slipped out just as the cloud began to take human form.
Ethan rushed over and slammed the cage door shut, slipping a heavy bolt through a lock and activating the electronic security system with a few taps on the digital keyboard. The cage bars briefly glowed green then blinked out.
And within the cage formed the demon Gazariel, The Beautiful One. Long black hair spilled down his shoulders and to his elbows. Bare feet were marked with faint blue sigils. On his open palms glowed more blue markings.
He lifted his head, his red eyes glowing as he took in the cage and those standing around watching. On his cheek, Tuesday saw three long scratch marks. They bled black.
And when Gazariel’s gaze met Tuesday’s, he said, “You will suffer for this, my witch.”