Black Howl (25 page)

Read Black Howl Online

Authors: Christina Henry

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Contemporary

BOOK: Black Howl
6.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“For the last time, I am your father.”

“In name only,” I spat.

“In the only way that matters. You will do as I say, or you will be punished.”

“No,” I said.

One of the foot soldiers made a sudden move toward me, but I was ready for him. I kept my right hand on the sword, and with my left I blasted him with regular fire. His designer trench was set ablaze immediately and he ran screaming for the nearest snowbank.

“Anyone else want to try?” I said innocently.

“Do you truly think your powers are superior to my own?” Azazel said softly. “I am the right hand of Lucifer, and have been for ages untold. Do you believe that you could defeat me in a fight?”

“Try me,” I said, and then, in an undertone to Gabriel, “Take out the other one before he gets any stupid ideas.”

Gabriel blasted the second soldier with nightfire. This one was a little more savvy than his friend and so managed to dodge out of the way. He threw his own spells—some kind of purple sparks—at Gabriel and the two of them dueled their way across the tiny front lawn and onto the sidewalk. I really hoped that no one decided to walk down our street at just this second.

Samiel and Beezle dodged out of the way of the other two.

“Sam, take Beezle inside,” I said.

“Why should I miss all the fun?” Beezle complained.

“You can watch from the window,” I said, keeping my eyes on Azazel.

My father looked cool and stone-faced and not at all scared of me. I, on the other hand, was terrified. Not of defying Azazel—that had been a long time coming—but of the consequences if I lost. Azazel might lose status among the Grigori. I would lose the love of my life. I had to win.

Maybe some of this was on my face. Maybe Azazel saw me waver for a moment. He struck before I had time to prepare.

A bolt of lightning shot across the space between us and hit me square in the chest. Electricity sizzled all over my body and my teeth rattled in my jaw. I kept a tight grip on the sword and slashed up with it as Azazel leapt to me, another lightning bolt ready at his fingertips. The bolt bounced off the sword and into a nearby tree, which gave an ominous crack.

We have some fairly large trees on the north side, and this was a three-story catalpa. I sincerely hoped it did not crash into the street and smash my neighbors’ cars.

I jumped to my feet and swung the sword at Azazel, who looked surprised that I was actually doing it.

“You dare…” he said.

“I swear to the gods, I can live the rest of my life without hearing that phrase,” I said.

Azazel blasted me again, this time with some spell made of small gold sparkles. Wherever they touched me, they burned like acid.

“Thanks for ruining another jacket,” I said. “I’m not made of money, you know.”

I slashed down with the sword. He danced out of the way but the blade managed to slice through the arm of his coat, which was much nicer and more expensive than mine.

“Now we’re even,” I said.

Azazel narrowed his eyes at me. “You have never truly given me the respect I deserve.”

“You have never earned it,” I replied.

We stared at each other for a moment, taking each other’s measure.

“I will not yield to you,” I said.

“I gathered as much,” my father said.

I slashed forward with the sword. I wasn’t about to engage in a magical tête-à-tête with a creature who had significantly more power than I did. Azazel blocked the blow with some kind of shield spell and began shooting various forms of fire, electricity and other things that hurt me.

I grimly settled in for the long haul. Some of his spells hit me. Some of them I managed to knock away with the sword. At every opportunity I pressed forward, looking for an opening.

Azazel’s remaining flunky cried out, and Azazel’s eyes slid to left, just for a moment. I had him.

I slashed him across the face with the blade, slicing open his cheek. He staggered backward, more in shock than in pain, I believe.

“I think that will leave a mark,” I said. “Something tells me Lucifer’s sword will defy any permanent healing.”

My heart was cold. There would never be space there for Azazel. I’d wanted a father all of my life, and when he finally showed up he was interested only in obedience, not love.

Azazel stood alone. His foot soldiers were down for the count. I held the sword before me, his blood still fresh upon the blade. Gabriel moved beside me, prepared to strike.

“This is not over,” Azazel said, taking in the situation and correctly interpreting that he would have his butt kicked if he stayed any longer.

“Yes, it is,” I replied. There was no anger in my voice, only steady determination. “I renounce you as my kin. You may be a father in name, but that is all that you will ever be. I refuse the inheritance of your court and the appellation of your name. From this day forward you will have no platform from which to demand obedience from me, and I will not give it. I renounce you and everything to do with you.”

The air between us shimmered with heat, and then there was a heavy crack, as if the cord that bound that two of us by blood had been severed.

Azazel appeared stunned. Blood dripped from his cheek, the slash that ran from the top of his ear to his chin.

“You…you…cannot…” he said, spluttering.

“I just did,” I replied.

Gabriel was by my side, taking my hand. “Let’s go inside.”

We walked away from Azazel, and my heart was a fist of ice.

16
 

THE DAY AFTER THE INCIDENT WITH AZAZEL I CALLED J.B. to check on the progress of the victims. The first man that they’d tested had woken up disoriented but cognizant of his surroundings. They were proceeding with cautious optimism through some more people before going full-scale. J.B. was convinced the prognosis was good, but he didn’t want to call Wade to bring in the cubs until they were sure. During the same conversation I convinced him that keeping track of Amarantha’s ghost was a good idea.

“But I don’t want you to do it,” J.B. said over the phone.

He sounded distracted. I imagined he had a lot on his plate. Upper management at the Agency wouldn’t give him a break on his regular duties just because he had to deal with this other massive issue of memory stealing.

“Why not?” I said. I was a little offended that my services
were being refused for a second time. “You don’t think I’m competent enough?”

“You’re too competent—that’s the problem,” J.B. said. “Do you know how many phone calls we intercepted yesterday about an altercation on your front lawn between three angels and a crazy woman with a sword?”

“Umm, my father was being an…” I began.

“Sixty-two,” J.B. said. “Sixty-two phone calls. Do you know how hard it is to keep these calls from actually reaching the authorities? Do you know how much trouble I get into every time you do something like this?”

“I don’t know why I get the blame,” I said angrily. “Azazel was the one who showed up on my lawn threatening to take Gabriel away to his death. What was I supposed to do, let him?”

“No,” J.B. sighed. I could almost hear him pulling on his hair. “I’m just grateful no one has caught you on their phone’s video camera—yet.”

“J.B.,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m nothing but a headache for you.”

“You’re worth it,” J.B. said.

He hung up before I could apologize again.

So another day passed, with our little family behaving as normally as we knew how to be, given that we were composed of an Agent, two angel/nephilim crossbreeds and a gargoyle. Lucifer still wasn’t returning my calls, which gave credence to the notion that he wanted to see how I handled the fallout from the marriage.

“The least he could do is make some sort of proclamation from afar,” I said to Gabriel the next evening as we walked home from the grocery store.

The trudge through the snow was not pleasant. We lived about eight blocks from the nearest grocery. Many people
had done a half-assed job of shoveling the walks in front of their buildings. The snow was tamped down into an icy, slippery crust in many places, and it made for treacherous walking even when you weren’t laden with bags of food.

Something gray and misty darted across the road when we were about a block away from home.

“Hey,” I said, staring. “That’s Amarantha.”

Gabriel frowned. “Do not get any ideas, Madeline. J.B. asked you not to follow her.”

I looked around, but I didn’t see any Agent in the vicinity. “No one else is doing it.”

I was already pushing my wings out, disappearing into the night. The grocery bags fell to the ground.

“Madeline,” Gabriel said, scooping up the bags.

“I want to know what she’s up to,” I said.

“She is near our home. Doubtless she was attempting to haunt you and found that she was unable because of the spell the Agency provided.”

“She’s not hanging around as a ghost to haunt me or J.B. That’s a side benefit. She’s still out to get revenge against Lucifer. I’m sure of it.”

Gabriel sighed as we chased after her as inconspicuously as we could. She glanced around a lot, obviously expecting a tail.

“She must have shaken off whoever was following her before,” I whispered.

“I am not going to carry this food all over creation while you do the exact opposite of what was asked of you,” Gabriel said.

“Why do I hear J.B. in your voice?” I said. “Just stow the groceries somewhere and we’ll come back for them. Come on, she’s getting farther away. I don’t want to lose her.”

Amarantha was drifting along the sidewalk, her head
moving around constantly. I got the impression that while she was concerned about being followed, she was also unsure exactly where she was going. She seemed to be checking landmarks.

Gabriel quickly flew to the top of a multi-unit apartment building and put our groceries on the roof. The building was only a couple of blocks from our house so the stuff would be easy to find later. I can’t afford to throw away groceries, and I was glad that Gabriel was conscientious enough to remember that even when I couldn’t.

Amarantha turned on Lincoln just past the Metra tracks and went north. She went past the underpass where Ramuell had killed Patrick. I always have to swallow the lump in my throat when I pass by that place.

Gabriel murmured something and I felt a weight like a heavy cloak settle over me.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Redoubled our spell of invisibility,” he replied. “It will better protect us from the eyes of supernatural creatures—or ghosts.”

“Cool,” I said. “When are you going to show me how to do all this neat stuff?”

Gabriel gave me a half smile. “We have plenty of time.”

We followed Amarantha for more than a half hour. She seemed to be wandering aimlessly at times, stopping to stare at sculptures or the glowing signs of chain stores.

“This is really boring,” I muttered.

“As I understand it, this is what surveillance work is usually like,” Gabriel said.

“Who told you that?”

“Beezle. It seems he spends a great deal of time watching police procedurals on television. We can always contact J.B., let him know her location and return home.”

It pained me to admit that he might be right. Amarantha seemed to have no clear purpose in mind, and my stomach had been rumbling for a while. I pulled my phone out to make the call to J.B. It was a given that he would scold me for ignoring his wishes, and I braced myself for the argument that would follow.

We followed her into Welles Park, which is across the street from Sulzer, the large regional library branch on the north side. Amarantha floated over the baseball fields, which would be crowded with leagues for the young and old in the summer. Now they were covered in drifts of snow.

There was a large gazebo in the center of the park, just south of the complex that housed a fitness center and pool. Several feet to the right and left of the gazebo were play lots filled with swings and slides and things from which children could jump. Between the two play lots was a wide, empty field.

A shadowy figure stood inside the gazebo.

Amarantha moved with purpose now, shooting across the snow directly toward the gazebo. I dropped my phone back into my pocket. This was what she had been up to all along.

She entered the gazebo, and the figure turned to speak to her. There was very little light in the center of the park this time of year. I couldn’t see the other person clearly. I had an impression of height, but the deep shadow may have been distorting my perception.

“We have to get closer,” I whispered.

“This is exceedingly foolish,” Gabriel said. “I am calling J.B. so he can deal with his mother’s ghost.”

“Call him after we find out who she’s talking to,” I hissed. “It’s not helpful if we call him with no new information.”

I again had the impression of a heavy weight thrown over me.

“Are you adding to the invisibility spell again?” I asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel said grimly. “Since you insist on staying, the least we can do is ensure that we are not detected.”

“Are we having our first argument as a married couple?” I asked innocently.

We flew closer to the gazebo. Amarantha and the other person talked in low whispers, and I couldn’t make out what they said.

“I never thought I would say this, but I wish Jude was here,” I said wistfully.

The couple concluded their business, and Amarantha exited the gazebo. The person inside lingered for a few moments longer.

“Come on, come on,” I whispered.

“Shall I follow Amarantha?” Gabriel said.

“No,” I replied. “Call J.B. and tell him where she is.”

“Which is what I wanted to do in the first place,” Gabriel muttered.

The figure in the gazebo stirred just as Gabriel concluded his call to J.B. Amarantha had resumed her slow drifting down Lincoln, and there didn’t seem to be any urgency in chasing after her now.

The clouds shifted, and the moon, which was three-quarters full, was revealed. A shaft of light fell across the person who had met with Amarantha.

It was Nathaniel.

“I’ll kill him,” I snarled, and shot forward. I had no real plan in mind other than grinding Nathaniel into tiny pieces.

Other books

Badlands by C. J. Box
A Searching Heart by Janette Oke
Riverine by Angela Palm
Grace by Elizabeth Scott
Blades of Valor by Sigmund Brouwer
One Way or Another by Nikki McWatters
I Can See Clearly Now by R. J. Davnall