No Shadows Fall (7 page)

“We all knew where each other were, to be sure; we did not want to interfere with each other. Ko and Bara kept in touch with me once I settled down here in London. They had settled in Brussels, so we three had finally found places that we called home. Azazel continued to travel until around two hundred years ago, when he settled down in Paris.

“Anyway, this evening, for the first time in eons, Azazel called out to us and told us that the leader of the Grigori, the Prince, if you will, is free.” Penemuel’s hands trembled as he stroked his cat. “Semjaza is on Earth.”

Chloe and her mother looked at each other. Then Chloe turned back to Penemuel, a frown on her face. “But… you said he was in a prison made by an Archangel.”

“Yes, the Archangel Gabriel.”

“Aren’t Archangels the most powerful kind of angel?”

“Oh yes, most assuredly,” Penemuel said. “But Semjaza is cunning, and he believes that he was wrongly imprisoned. He’s also a magician and, like the rest of us, a Watcher. So he would have used his time to his own advantage and figured out a way to break free.” Penemuel snorted. “I would not like to be around Saint Gabriel right now. I imagine him to be raging… and he was terrifying enough when he was in a good mood.” He smiled ruefully. “I fear that I’m something of a coward.”

Chloe shrugged. “I don’t think that being a coward or not is really important, Pen. What
is
important is that this Semjaza had Azazel contact you. What does he want?”

“Ah.” Penemuel hesitated. “He wants us to meet with him tomorrow, in Paris.”

“Will you go?” Susan asked.

“I have no choice,” Penemuel said. “I must go.”

“Who says?” Chloe demanded.

“We are the same choir,” Penemuel explained. “And Semjaza is our leader, the Prince of the Grigori. He decides what we can and can’t do, and he punishes us as he sees fit. So, I will go and see what he has to say and depending on what it is….”

“Can’t this Archangel do something?” Chloe pressed.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s doing something. I’m sure they all are,” Penemuel said. “But what can they do, realistically? They don’t know where he is. They don’t know about myself, Ko, Bara, and Azazel. We’ve become experts at hiding from them.”

“I think you should summon one of them.” Chloe’s eyes flashed with determination, and inwardly, Penemuel quailed. “Isn’t there one who’s a scholar too? Who would understand how you feel and want to help you?”

Penemuel frowned. “There’s Saint Raziel. He’s the Archangel of Secrets and Mysteries, but I don’t know if—”

Chloe cut him off. “Great. I’ll go downstairs and search the Internet for a summoning ritual, and then we’ll summon this Saint Raziel.” She got to her feet and marched toward the door of the apartment.

“Oh my,” Penemuel muttered as Chloe went downstairs.

“Don’t fret, dear. I’ll sit with you while Chloe does what she needs to,” Susan said, leaning over to pat Penemuel’s knee.

“Thank you,” he said weakly.

Chloe returned ten minutes later, carrying her laptop. She sat down on the sofa and fired up the machine. “I’m going to hunt up a summoning ritual for Raziel,” she began as her fingers danced over the keyboard, “and then I’m going to look up ways for you to protect yourself from Semjaza, Pen.”

Penemuel blinked. “I don’t know that there are any,” he said.

“That’s why I’m looking on the Internet. To be sure.” Chloe’s eyes were glued to the screen.

The minutes ticked slowly by, and Penemuel made himself focus on his cat. The animal was kneading his shoulder as he held her, and he sighed, taking comfort from the warm little body and the soft purr. He gave Susan a quick smile as she made another pot of tea and poured for them.

“Ah-ha!”

Chloe’s jubilant cry made Penemuel jump. He was glad he’d set his teacup down and hadn’t spilled any tea.

“What did you find, dear?” Susan asked.

“A way to summon the Archangel Raziel. It’s quite complex. There’s a lot of things we need. Do you know where we’re going to get St. John’s Wort at this time of day?”

“I have some,” Penemuel said. “I have a lot of those sort of things. Just in case. You never know what might happen.”

“Well, that’s handy.” Chloe grinned. “Where do you keep it?”

“The bottom shelf of the pantry,” he answered.

Chloe scribbled a list of things and nodded, setting her laptop aside. “I’ll go see if you’ve got everything I need for this.” She got to her feet and went into the kitchen. A few moments later, Penemuel could hear her bustling about and talking to herself.

“Everything all right?” he called.

“Oh yes, fine,” Chloe called back. “You’ve got a well-stocked pantry, Pen.”

“Thank you. I think.”

Chloe came back into the living room with her arms full and set the items she was carrying down on Penemuel’s coffee table. Bemused, Penemuel watched her as she consulted the laptop, then began to mix up herbs in a silver bowl that he’d forgotten he owned. When everything was in the bowl, Chloe pulled a pocket knife out of her jeans pocket and cut a line on the palm of her hand.

“Chloe!” Penemuel half rose from his seat in shock, and Susan gasped, pressing a hand to her lips.

“Relax. I know what I’m doing.” Chloe let several drops of blood drip into the bowl, pocketed her knife, and then picked up a book of matches. “Ready?” she asked, looking first at her mum and then at Penemuel.

“Are you sure about this, dear?” her mother asked. Susan’s expression was a mixture of shock and worry. Like Penemuel, she had half risen from her chair when Chloe had cut her hand.

“Yeah, I am.” Chloe grinned.

“Oh dear,” Penemuel said.

“I’m taking that as a yes, you’re ready,” Chloe said, and lit a match. She dropped it into the bowl, and the contents caught alight with a bright blue flame.

“Holy Saint Raziel, author of the
Sefer Raziel
, I call on you in the name of Secrets and Mysteries that is your power to come to us here. Now!”

The flames surged toward the ceiling and then went out. Penemuel found he was holding his breath.

“Well now,” said a new voice, a voice that Penemuel recognized. “I haven’t been summoned like that in a very, very long time.”

“Raziel,” Penemuel whimpered, cowering in his chair.

The Archangel walked to him, holy light shimmering around his body. “Yes,” he said. “Me.”

“Oh dear,” Penemuel said again, trembling.

R
AZIEL
HAD
barely appeared in Cuba with Tzadkiel, Brieus, and Sophiel when he felt the pull of magic.

“What the hell?” he demanded, looking around.

“What is it?” Tzadkiel asked.

“Someone’s summoning me.” Raziel was astonished.

“Summoning you?” Brieus echoed.

“That’s what I said.” Raziel blinked. “I have to go. Don’t do anything foolish while I’m gone. I shan’t be long.” With that, he vanished.

Emerging in a living room in an apartment in London was not what Raziel had expected. Even more surprising was who was in the living room. As Raziel gazed at Penemuel in astonishment, he was aware of the two human women clutching each other and staring at him in awe.

“This is quite a revelation,” Raziel said, turning to face them. “Who summoned me?”

“Um, that would be me, sir,” said the younger woman.

“And you are?”

“My name’s Chloe.” She stood up, running her hands through her hair, and lifted her chin bravely. “I know you can probably melt me down to nothing with a thought, but Pen’s my friend and he’s in trouble, so I decided that summoning you and asking you for help would be a good idea. Sir.”

Raziel quirked an eyebrow. “Well, Chloe, while I admire your loyalty, not to mention your cleverness in discovering a working summoning ritual for an Archangel, I’m not entirely sure I can be of much help to you.” He turned back to look at Penemuel. “Oh stop that,” he said in disgust. “I’m not going to destroy you, Penemuel, honestly.”

“I-I-I….”

“Hush a minute.” Raziel raised a hand. He looked at the three with narrowed eyes. “This is quite remarkable,” he said. “How long have you been living here in England, Penemuel?”

“Since 1286, my lord,” Penemuel said.

“Really? I didn’t detect a thing.” Raziel couldn’t help but be impressed. “We seem to be awash in Grigori this week,” he went on, “so tell me, who else is wandering around the planet?”

“Azazel, Kokabiel, and Baraqiel, my lord.”

“Astonishing.” Raziel sat down on the sofa. “Where’s Semjaza?”

“Do you promise to help protect Penemuel from him?” Chloe cut
in.

Raziel’s eyebrows rose even higher. “This is a serious request?”

“Of course!” She looked offended. “Pen’s our friend. Right, Mum?”

“Yes. Yes, he is,” the older woman agreed with her daughter.

“Incredible.” Raziel shook his head in wonder. “And you’re not coercing them?”

“I have done no such thing,” Penemuel said, suddenly angry. “I did not do so in Eden. I would not do so now.”

“Huh.” Raziel regarded the Grigori thoughtfully. “What about the other three who are out of Hell?”

“Azazel… yes.” Penemuel looked stricken. “Ishtahar’s sister.”

Raziel scowled. “Fucking hell. Damn you, Semjaza!”

“Amen,” Penemuel agreed fervently. “You must understand, my lord Raziel, most of us who were sent to Hell by Michael were sent there for crimes unrelated to human women. Mine was the sharing of the knowledge of reading and writing, Kokabiel and Baraqiel’s crime was sharing how to read the stars. Only Semjaza’s closest took human women for wives and priestesses.”

Raziel sighed. “You do know that it’s most unlikely that all of my Brotherhood will agree to this, yes? This protection of you? Uriel and Gabriel particularly will object, and Tzadkiel was the one who refused you pardon after you all begged for forgiveness while in Hell. They will most likely be reluctant to help you or to let you stay here.”

Penemuel nodded. “I know.”

“But you can’t send Pen back to Hell,” Chloe protested. “He hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“It’s not my decision, Chloe.” Raziel tapped his fingers on his leg. “Listen. Stay put. I’ll be back. I need to consult one who is higher than even Michael.”

Penemuel looked stunned. “You would go to God? For me?”

“Yes.” Raziel regarded him seriously. “I want to be sure that what I’m about to do is right by Him. This is a gray area, Penemuel. So don’t move. I’ll be back.” He disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later, Raziel returned. He noticed that the three had, in fact, not moved at all. As he sat down, Raziel said, “I didn’t mean ‘don’t move’ literally, you know.”

Penemuel blinked owlishly at him. “Forgive me. I was just shocked that you’d come at all.”

“I was curious,” Raziel admitted. “So, to the point, because I have much yet to do today. Yes, I can give you protection, but not for free. I want something in return.”

Penemuel bit his lip. “What?”

“Information. Help us and you will be forgiven and redeemed and allowed to live as you have been, without fear of reprisal from any of us. Such was the Word of God. Help us find Semjaza and find out what he wants, what his plans are.”

Penemuel let out an explosive breath. “You want me to be your spy.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t do it.” Penemuel shook his head. “He’ll kill me if he finds out!”

“So don’t let him find out.” Raziel faced Penemuel and glared at him. “Stop being a damn coward for once in your immortal life, Penemuel. You can only hide behind your books for so long before something comes out to bite you on the ass, and right now, it’s Semjaza doing that. You want to live without fear of him? Without fear of Uriel sinking his sword into your gut? Without fear of Michael throwing you back into Hell?”

“Yes,” Penemuel said in a small voice.

“Then is it really such a hard thing to do, to pull up your britches and help me? Or will you remain forever cowering in terror because you’re too weak to do otherwise?” Raziel filled his words with scorn.

Penemuel raised his head. “That’s most unfair, my lord.”

“I don’t have time for fair. I have, as I said, much to do today. I do not have time or leisure to give you the coddling you seem to think you need. I can’t wrap you in cotton wool and baby you, Penemuel. So I ask you one last time. Will you get me the information we need?”

It hung between them for several long moments. Finally, Penemuel nodded. In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Yes.”

“Excellent.” Raziel stood up. “Now I will shield your home and your possessions and your workplace. Which leads me to ask, where do you work?”

“At the British Library,” Penemuel said.

Raziel blinked. “How did we miss this?” he wondered again, then shook his head. “Never mind. Rhetorical question.” He reached out with his power and carefully laid down wards that would be undetectable to anyone who was not an Archangel around the apartment building. That done, Raziel reached out farther and did the same with the British Library. It was not particularly hard to do, Raziel mused to himself, but the reason for doing it was not something he had expected at all.

When he was finished, Raziel sat back and crossed his legs. “You are going to see Semjaza?”

“Yes, tomorrow.” Penemuel sighed. “I aim to be back here by dinner time.”

“All right.” Raziel nodded. “I’ll come by around seven p.m. Where is he, by the by?”

Penemuel took another breath. “He’s in Paris right now. And… if what he proposes we do for him involves things that we—I—find repugnant, I retain the right to refuse him. There are some things that I will not do, my lord, not even for freedom from fear.”

Raziel tilted his head to one side. “I see. I understand, actually. No, don’t do anything that would be out of character. I cannot imagine that Semjaza would ask you to do anything that was particularly savory, after all, so if you do not wish to do his will, that is up to you. The information I want is fairly simple to get, after all—where is he staying, what are his plans, and I’d like a report on his power and magical abilities too. He
had
been up in Aquila for a very long time. I’m curious as to how he managed to get out.”