Airs & Graces (18 page)

It was an awkward time for the waitress to come back with Adelaide’s beer and my water. The conversation paused, as I did my best to offer some assurance without lying, and without a word spoken. I suspect it didn’t go as well as hoped, since, before the waitress was out of earshot, Adelaide had already drained half her beer and ordered another. Still, I answered aloud as soon as I could. “After all Piorre went through, and everything I knew, I didn’t think it could happen this fast, but many things have demonstrated that I can misjudge situations regarding her. So no, I’m not sure. But I do have plenty of experience with, and faith in, human free will. That includes yours.”

“But she’s an Angel, and I’m just – ”

“ – You’re just a recipient of God’s greatest gift. Angels are as we were made, and we follow our natures. Humans, as Giovanni Pico della Mirandola wrote, were made to Be What They Will.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve totally read Giovanni Mirandola.” She rolled her eyes, sarcasm layering her tone. “His stuff makes great beach reading, I’m sure.”

“Regardless, it’s true. I’m not saying it will be easy, but I am saying that if you’re able to exert your will, if you
really
want to, she won’t be able to overpower it. That goes doubly true if you’re able to make use of her Grace yourself, under
your
control.”

She was quiet for a time, continuing to work through her beer while she pondered that. “You honestly believe it, right? That I can do this. You’re not just saying it to make me feel better?”

“I could say any number of things about free will, but this seems easiest – have I said anything, so far, to make you feel better?”

She dropped her eyes to the table, solemn. “Point taken.”

Still, that seemed to reassure her even more than I could have hoped. Enough that she exerted her free will, further, stretching our limited remaining budget, by ordering a prime cut of steak when the waitress returned. I’d have to plan around this, but, given the circumstances and the location, I did the same. The steaks in Medicine Bow really are worthwhile.

She was well into dinner, a large cut of meat, an equally large potato, and a modest helping of vegetables by comparison, when she spoke again. “So, how, exactly, do we do this?”

“The same way Piorre was doing it, but much faster, and with less introspection. Whatever happens, it’s going to be very personal, and up to you. At this point, I can help you, and protect you, but the journey is your own.”

“So that’s why we need a car?”

“That’s why we need a car. It will also help us hide out from at least half the people looking for us. Sooner or later, they’d figure out how to find me, if I keep using my powers at the rate I have been. For now, the lower a profile we can keep, the better.”

“You said half the people,” she pointed out.

“I did. Michael, Uriel, and quite a few others aren’t going to consider these methods of doing anything. They’re very much about the big picture, more familiar with Angels than people.”

“They make
you
look like you’re familiar with humans? Wow.”

“Something like that, yes,” I agreed, ignoring the sarcasm.

“So what about the other half? Who will be looking for us doing things this way?”

“Lucifer, in particular, makes a point of knowing humans all too well. He knows who you are, and he’ll be looking into your past even now. Probably taking on disguises to talk to people you used to know, trying to figure you out. We can expect to run into at least a few Demons on the way, but likely just those. He isn’t going to want to point brutes like Rahab your direction again. He’s gotten all the mileage he can out of that, and any more could spoil his own game. He’ll just want to make sure we keep moving, and stay pressured.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell his allies? They all want the Grace taken to Hell, right?”

“Lucifer wants to convert Iaoel, to make her one of the Fallen. If he can corrupt you, he probably thinks he can control her Grace, her abilities, through you. He’ll be trying to trick you, or convince you that he can protect you, or that I’m not your friend, or anything else he thinks will work. He won’t want you killed, the way most of the others would. But he will try to make you feel unsure of absolutely everything else. He needs you to choose his side willingly.”

“You’re not my friend, are you?” she asked, shifting in her seat uncomfortably.

“I am the closest thing you have right now, am I not?” I pointed out. Her face fell, and I schooled mine into stoicism.

“That seems like a lot of trouble to go through if he could just take the Grace if he killed me,” she said, changing the subject.

“He doesn’t play for small prizes or short-term goals. He’s sort of like Michael that way, always viewing the big picture. He just happens to notice that it’s made of a mosaic from smaller ones. You’re still just a means to an end. I may be wrong, but my guess would be this: that end is an awakened Iaoel, as a Fallen Angel, using your body as a host. Much simpler than the time it would take to get a new body for the Grace.”

Adelaide shuddered. “Well, if he’s not going to try to kill me, as long as I keep telling him no, I’m okay, right? Because I am so not on board with that particular plan. He can go to… Yeah. You know. But as long as he thinks he has a shot at changing my mind, and I can keep ahead of him…” She shook her head as if to clear it, and I ordered a glass of water for her. I needed her sober and thinking clearly.

We lapsed into a short silence and I nodded, while working on a bite of steak. “As long as you continue to tell him no, continue to let him believe that he may have a chance at corrupting you, then yes. That is as good a plan for the time being as any. However, you must remember, he’s good at this. He’ll show up in a variety of guises. He’ll try to work through your defenses at your weakest moments. The necklace may help, but the only way we can be sure you’ll always see things, including Fallen, for what they are, is if we can unfold the Grace. Control of the visions is a better option than relying on Hadad’s… gift. That’s the other reason for the hurry.”

“Point taken. So we’re getting a car. Then what do we do? Where are we going next?”

“We’ve rented the room. We’ll get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll head whatever direction you say.”

“So, anywhere I say?” I could tell there were a few dozen thoughts going through her mind.

“Yes, but keep the goal in mind. We’re looking for things that will help you find peace with your own inner Demons and questions. Places you can resolve parts of your past, or places you can find inner peace.”

“Las Vegas sells inner peace, right?” she asked with a smart little smirk.

“They sell a lot of things that they try to package to
look
like inner peace. We’ll go wherever you want, but if you’re hoping to avoid the Fallen, the Las Vegas strip might not be the best idea. I do have at least one suggestion, though.”

“Oh, where’s that?”

“Boulder, Colorado.”

“I’ve never been there. What’s in Boulder that will help me find so much inner peace, exactly?”

“A strong box containing $50,000 in unmarked bills. You can thank Gabriel for suggesting, once upon a time, that Iaoel and I put some things away, like money, for emergencies. Because we’re fast running out.”

She whistled a bit at the figure. “I’ll have to be sure to thank him. That will definitely make things easier. First stop, Boulder, then.”

“We can manage a bit longer, if there’s anything of particular note or priority first.” I was hoping that, when the urgency of the situation was clear, and our course was being set, she’d have a clear destination in mind, be that confronting an estranged relative, visiting some important site she’d always wanted to see, or thinking of something else of note missing from her life. Apparently it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“I think the road trip will do me a bit of good. By the time we get your money, hopefully I’ll have figured out what our next step is. Don’t worry,” she added, likely as a byproduct of my dubious look.

It wasn’t very reassuring, both because she didn’t seem very certain or reassured herself, and because the lack of certainty of even a first step in resolving any number of issues pointed to precisely the main problem: that I still wasn’t at all sure she had the will or determination to handle Iaoel’s Grace. Yes, I firmly believed it was possible, even in present circumstances, but I suspected just as strongly that somewhere, whatever part of Iaoel’s unconscious desires was directing what was happening, thought just the opposite. “All right. Boulder first, then. After that, we go wherever you think we should.”

***

Franklin’s Auto Repair had been there, on the outskirts of Medicine Bow, longer than most folks could remember. Most of the time, the shop looked so quiet and broken down. A lot of people thought it had probably closed completely. John Franklin Jr. had also been there a long time. A lot of the people I’d known before my time in Hell, I would have assumed dead or long since moved on, but John was one of those constants. I knew the shop would still be there, and that, as long as I knocked, he would answer.

He looked older than the last time I saw him, but he had not aged as much as Piorre – but then, when I’d first known him, Piorre had been a young man. John never was. He said that the work kept him young. Whatever it was, he was still a bigger man, broad shouldered, with just a bit of a gut, shoulder length gray hair, sideburns and a mustache. He still favored jeans and rock concert t-shirts, though the ones from the ‘70s, once new, counted as nostalgic now.

John invited us in and offered beer or coffee. I passed. Adelaide accepted the coffee and quickly found out that, just as I remembered, he made it so thick that the spoon nearly stood in the liquid. From her expression, it took her some getting used to, but she didn’t instantly dislike it, either.

“John, it’s been a while,” I said.

“Either too long, or not long enough, depending on what brings you this way. Where’s Gabe?” John answered.

“Not along on this trip.”

“Just as well. It took two weeks to fix the damage last time.”

“What did Gabriel do?” Adelaide asked.

“Same thing Gabe always does,” John answered her, with just a hint of a smile under the thick gray mustache. “Left the place a little worse off than she found it, but made sure the story was almost worth it.”

“That’s not exactly an answer,” she replied, raising a brow.

John just smiled a bit wider. “It is when you get to know Gabe. The details kind of run together.”

She looked at him and tilted her head. “So, you know Gabriel? Tabbris said you mostly stayed out of the war?”

The smile faded a little, and he worked at his own coffee-stew. “I do. But the three of them came by, from time to time.”

“Three? Tabbris, Gabriel, and Iaoel, I’m guessing?”

“That’d be the three, yep.”

The look of curiosity remained. “Why would they do that? Don’t all three of them have other ways to get around?”

“Not when they wanted to get around without being noticed. Sure, the jumping around thing is useful for disappearing acts, and it’s quicker, but it doesn’t exactly blend in. And sometimes, they wanted to do that.”

“Why would they want to do that?” This time, she was looking between me and John both.

The smile returned to his face, as he settled in behind his desk, stacked high with various debris, a lot of it bearing grease-stained fingerprints. “I wouldn’t know. I never asked.”

“You had three
Angels
visiting your shop often enough to call them
friends
, and you never thought to ask? You were never curious?”

“Nope,” he replied. “That kind of knowledge comes with a price. May not be obvious, but you’re better off not knowing.” He paused there, looking to me. “She’s involved, isn’t she? No way around it?”

I shook my head. “No way around it, or we wouldn’t be here.”

He nodded, cutting off Adelaide as she was beginning to make an effort to explain. “I don’t want to know. It’s just better that way. But I’ll help you. What do you need this time, Tab?”

“Just wheels that will last us a while. Doesn’t need to be fancy, or fast. No record, nothing anyone is looking for. The more non-descript the better. But it will need to be able to handle a lot of miles, and weather.”

John pondered that for a little while, then stood. “I’ve got just the thing, then. She don’t look like much, but she’ll keep going, whatever you put her through.”

He led us to the yard in back, and over to a car covered with a tarp. Pulling it off revealed a heavily dented, early-2000s Chevy Cavalier. “I can have her running for you by tomorrow afternoon, if you don’t need the dents hammered out. She was… quite a project when she first came in.”

“But you worked your usual miracles.”

John nodded. “Couldn’t save the people who were in it, but the car … it’ll get you where you need to go.”

“What do we owe you?”

John shook his head. “This clears me. I’ve owed you one for far too long. It’ll do my mind good just knowing that we’re even, all right?”

I considered that. “I never said you owed me anything.”

“You didn’t have to say it. You helped me out, when I was young and dumb. I owe you one. I’d rather not. Say we’re even, and I’ll have it for you tomorrow afternoon.”

“We’re even. Fix the car, and you don’t owe me a thing.” As soon as it was said, years of tension seemed to leave John’s body, enough that, for a moment, he rested a hand on the car for support.