Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls) (23 page)

BOOK: Once You Go Demon (Pure Souls)
8.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Jerry answered dryly, “Yes, but let’s talk about it later.”

Jerry reached out for the door of the Buddhist Center, but instead of feeling the knob in his hand, he found himself kissing salty concrete. It took a moment to register that the feeling of warmth making way down his face was his blood, and to focus to see that all five demons had Dee against a wall. They took turns volleying blows, tendering Dee’s ribs. Dee was one strong half-human motherfucker, but the superhuman strength of five demons was beyond even his tolerance.

Luckily, though, that meant the band that had regrouped and launched a counterstrike thought Dee was the bigger threat. Jerry rose to his feet, his head spinning, his vision blurring at intervals. He tamped down the hellfire he’d so recently embraced and searched for its counterpart. Fuck. He really hated giving away the prize like this, but it wasn’t as if he could just stand by and watch the sorry son-of-a-bitch get killed off when he was perfectly capable of stopping it. He’d just have to hope that when Dee found out what he could do, he wouldn’t fry up his balls with curry and send him packing. Fine. But Riona would do that twice as fast and three times as painfully if she found out later he could have saved Dee and didn’t just to keep his secret to himself for a little longer.

Backbone stiff, Jerry reached out his hands and pointed them in the direction of the mayhem. The breath he gasped acted like a switch, turning his power from hell to heaven. Dee managed to look his way for just a moment, his eyes going wide in surprise.


Fornox tierna
!”

In a lightning-fast chain, the spell’s power shot out and wrapped around the gaggle of goons, shooting sparks from their tips to their toes. They sweltered in its power, and then, like they’d been cut down by an atomizer in one of those great B-movies he used to watch, they fizzled into dust.

Dee, bloodied about the lip and with one eye already beginning to swell, pushed himself away from the brick wall, stumbling in Jerry’s direction.

“Thank the gods,” he coughed out. “Just in the nick of time.”

But Jerry was perplexed. He’d been on the tip of casting out the vanquishing spell. The tip. But he hadn’t. When he started to move his lips, it was someone else’s voice who’d thrown out the words.

“Oh, my God. Dee, are you okay?”

Riona rushed forward to prop up the demigod, shoving her body under one of his massive arms and letting him lean his weight on her. Jerry was afraid she’d break like a toothpick. She looked like one in that position, after all.

“Fine. I’ll be fine.” Breathless, Dee took a few steps, limping as he moved. “Thanks to you.”

“How did you know I was here?” Riona must have caught sight of Dee’s pick up, because she’d reached it in record time. She managed to open the door with one hand.

“Chipper told Persephone, who told us. We’ve been out looking for you since we dropped your Mom back in Salem. Are you okay? Riona, I swear I didn’t know. If I had known, I’d have told you. Damn it, I’m so sorry.”

The witch’s hand raised to the demigod’s cheek, stroking over his gruff, unshaven stubble. “It’s okay. I know.”

With him sitting on the seat and she standing on the sidewalk, she was able to pull his head into her arms and place his temple against her chest, rocking him back and forth.

Jerry had never been so jealous of someone his whole unnaturally long life.

It was then that the witch acknowledged his presence. The softness that had defined her continence and her voice with Dee hardened. She drew herself up and turned steely eyes to Jerry. One long, red-nailed finger struck out in his direction.

“You, on the other hand …”

Drawing back fingers which had already begun crackling with magic, Jerry closed his eyes and prepared himself to receive Riona’s worst. It was, after all, no less than he deserved. The least he could do was take it like a man.

“Riona! Never turn on your pillars.”

One of Jerry’s eyes cracked open, trying to confirm what his mind told him was impossible. 

Six-foot-two, if he wasn’t an inch, and boasting more muscle, grace, and presence than any human outside of Chuck Norris could ever dare, the man standing next to Riona cast the witch an admonishing glare, her wrist seized by his hand, keeping her on the edge of releasing her magic.

Jerry fell to his knees, the tears welling in his eyes before he was even conscious of the guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, his body shaking with the effort of his soul to release its torment. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t.”

Dee careened around the two bodies between him and Jerry. “What the hell?”

Riona shrugged, but the man next to her stuck his hand out to Dee, as though they’d just been introduced to each other at a backyard barbeque.

“It’s just the first time he’s seen me since he fell,” he offered. “We were quite close once. Dionysus, I presume, though I’ve been told to call you Dee. I’m Michael.”

In the wake of Dee’s perplexed expression, Riona sighed and added, “My father.”

Chapter 25

The sensation of his angelic soul becoming corporeal assaulted him from every direction. It lasted but a fraction of a moment; that odd in between of being only spirit and becoming flesh, having all his nerves rapid fire with the reboot. He used to hate this feeling. Now, the moment he knew he felt that tingle again, he couldn’t stop smiling.

The house was quiet in the lull of mid-day. No doubt all three Pure Souls were out, as wasn’t unusual around this time. Only, this was the morning after he’d dropped a bomb. Unusual held foreboding. There should be nothing
usual
about it. He listened for the presence of human heart beats; nothing. As he felt his first breath fill his lungs, Ramiel tried to figure out if he was more relieved or worried by that fact.

He should have come sooner. They had been trying to summon him all morning, but his shame trapped him, put off his arrival. Damn, what if something had happened? What if they were in the midst of a battle now? What if one of them was injured or worse?

What a freaking softy he was becoming in his old age. Why should he give a fuck if he pissed off one of the Pure Souls? His job was to relay marching orders and help keep them in line. He wasn’t their confidante, and he sure as hell wasn’t their friend. Just because he chose to be
friendly
with them, that didn’t mean he should feel anything beyond a mild sense of duty and convenient camaraderie.

Only, when he’d seen the hurt in Riona’s eyes the night before and knew he’d had a hand in causing it, that whole above-human-emotions façade of his exited the building with the trash. Reality was, he
did
care. Cared a lot, actually. Jerry could go take a flying leap, but Dee and Riona were like family. And in Riona’s case, she actually
was
family.

“Stop it!” he lectured himself in the emptiness of the safe house. “You can’t do this. You get too emotionally wrapped up in their lives, Gabriel’s going to yank your ass off of PS duty. They’re only human. They’re only human.”

The liaison had to maintain a distance, stay removed so that the Pure Souls didn’t develop a dependency on him. He was already on probation after his little Jackie Chan routine outside Riona’s apartment almost two months ago. He’d only managed to keep his post by reminding Gabriel that Lucifer’s direct and physical involvement constituted an exception. But the terms of the most recent Hell-Heaven accords put the facts down in plain red and white: outside of the regents, elites on both sides could only influence and counsel their human agents, they couldn’t fight along side them. “Lucifer’s not under my jurisdiction,” Gabriel had reminded him with no lack of disgust. “But you are, so start towing the line or I’m going to desk your ass for the next millennium.”

The knock at the door drew him out of his reverie. Casting out his spirit, he tried to sense if it was one of his three.
Why would one of them knock, though?
he wondered to himself. They all had keys. A jingle of metal and the turning of the deadbolt confused him even more. He was taken aback for a moment when instead of Riona’s fire-red hair, Jerry’s furrowed brow, or Dee’s decidedly deadly brawn, an idol of beauty and poise rounded the corner.

“Oh, it’s you.” Persephone seemed just as disappointed as him.

“Yeah, just me.” 

She polished away a smile and stared silently at the floor. After a few moments spent biting her bottom lip, she spoke up in a voice far too small for her history. “About last night …” Her eyes turned up slowly, cautiously. “I’m sorry I bolted like that. But when I saw an angelic blade, I panicked.”

“Panicked, ey?”

Her head turned sideways in confusion when his acidic tone hit her ears. “Um, yeah. Because Riona being half-angel, and she was really drunk, and the blade having the power to strike down an immortal and all, I …”

Ramiel held up his hand, stopping her. “You know, when you first came on to me, I admit I couldn’t understand why. You are the female form perfected. You could probably have any man, and many of the women, you set your eyes on. And you knew I couldn’t give you anything except a few hours of my body. I’m not human, this isn’t my world. I have no long term prospects in this plane. But, damn, you were so … beyond anything I ever experienced. And I let myself get drawn in, fooled when you kept coming back wanting more, that you might actually be after more than just my ability to please you proper. You actually made me believe you cared for me.”

“What?” Persephone’s wide eyes glossed over. To see someone of her stature so easily reduced to weeping … Well, that just sort of supported his theory, didn’t it? Honest tears you had to work up to, but fake ones could be summoned on demand.

A moment later, her sadness shifted, and she lashed back. “What the hell are you talking about, Ramiel? What, are you saying I’m just using you as a booty call? That I’m some sort of liar-slut like everyone else in my family?”

“I didn’t used to think so. We’ve never been that close through the eons, but outside of your love of hard liquor, I’ve never heard anyone say an unkind word of you. Maybe you just do your dirty dealing in the dark, because it all added up for me last night. Do you know why Gabriel made it illegal for an angel to take a nephilim as a lover? Because he understood how easy it was for one of us to buy into your lies and get wrapped up in your politics. You’re so much like us except in your ability to deceive.”

Her fisted hands planted on her hips. “Big words for someone who last night got caught keeping a Solomon-sized secret. What possible reason could I have for trying to con you?”

His hand went to his belt and seized around the handle of his own blade, always present but kept cloaked unless needed. As predicted, the sight of the weapon sent a shockwave over Persephone. She shuddered, then retreated, her back pinning against the ornate oak veneer of the living room’s fireplace.

“You told me yourself a few weeks ago. The only thing keeping you on Earth is the possibility of revenge. How convenient would it be if you got one of the archangels wrapped around your pretty little finger and drove him to the point where he was willing to kill your husband off? Seriously, how long did you think it would take me to figure out that’s what you were up to? You self-centered, manipulative nephilim.”

Again, the front door opened, and this time a pair of animated voices blew in with the gust of bitter winter air. When Riona rounded the corner, a bruised and bloody Dee hunched over her shoulders, Persephone finally drew her burning gaze away. She went liquid at the sight of her half-brother’s bloodied face, and ran to his side to take Riona’s place.

“Holy shit, what happened?”

Despite his swollen lip, Dee was able to answer. “Attempted beat down by a demon posse. But you were right; we found Riona exactly where you told us she’d be.”

That statement snapped Ramiel back into the here and now. “Found her?” he squeaked. “Was she missing?”

Persephone scowled as she lowered Dee on to the couch. “Some guardian you are. Yes, in a manner of speaking, she was.” She turned back to Dee. “I’ll take you to the hospital. You’re hurt. Bad. Just let me get my car.”

Dee’s head shook meekly. “Don’t bother. I might only be half-god, but I still got all that regenerative DNA stuff working in the background. I’ll be back in tiptop shape in a day or two. But if you don’t mind, something to dull the pain would be great.”

Persephone nodded her head. “Pills or booze?”

Dee deadpanned. “Booze, of course.”

“Right.  No problem.”

Dee turned away Ramiel’s worried expression with a flick of his finger. “I’m going to be fine, Chief. But her,” he motioned towards Riona, “you need to do something about.”

“I wasn’t really missing,” Riona spit out before Ramiel could get a word in edgewise. “I was just so freaking angry last night, I ran off without a cell phone. I went home with Steph. Not that it’s any of your business, really. After all, if you’re teaching by example, it’s the really important stuff I’m supposed to keep secret.”

“Telling you about your heritage was forbidden until it became need-to-know. If you had revered the angelic blade instead of tried to slice a lean piece of breast meat with it …”

He could tell by the shade of red her face flushed this wasn’t really the best tact to take.

“But you’re right,” he decided to say instead, softening his posture. “I should have found a better way to tell you. You might argue that you’ve needed to know that for a long time. It’s just … Well, never mind what. So, now you know. You’re half-archangel. If you have any questions about what that means, I’ll answer whatever I can.”

“No need, Ramiel. I got this covered.”

From the entry and from the past, a voice crept into the room that made the hairs on the back of his neck sizzle. Angels could take on almost any human form—or animal, for that matter—they saw fit for the purposes of doing their duties on Earth, but Michael had always preferred this one. And behind him, Jerry Romani shuffled in basking silence.

Jerry, silent. Maybe a miracle had occurred.  

“Sire.” Ramiel managed finally to at last breathe after several moments spent in suspended animation. He dipped his head and lowered his gaze. “I wouldn’t presume to …”

“Damn it, Ramiel. You still turn into a little girl when I’m around, don’t you?” Despite the biting comment, Michael’s smile managed to give away the tease. Stepping across the living room, he held his compatriot at arm’s length. “How fair you, brother? It’s been a long time.”

“Twenty-nine years.” Ramiel could have lit Las Vegas he was beaming so.

“Oh, so you
did
know who my father was, and when you said he was no longer with us, that was another confiscated truth?” Riona asked.

“Patience, daughter.”

Ramiel could see by the way Riona prickled at the title that she wasn’t exactly grooving with this new reality. No doubt, then, she and Michael hadn’t spoken too much about what really had resulted in all this confusion.

“Ramiel is an angel. If he was commanded not to speak of it, he would have no choice. Unlike you, the will of an archangel while on active service is subject to the commands of his superiors. Gabriel must have put a gag order on him.”

“Actually, it was Larry,” Ramiel corrected. Oh, things in management had shifted quite a bit in three decades, but that wasn’t really for human ears. Besides, there were more pressing things right now to worry over. “Does she know?” Ramiel asked, just as Persephone rounded the corner from the kitchen, a tumbler with clinking ice cubes in her hand. As soon as she caught sight of the new arrival, her frame slackened, her hand unfurled, and the alcohol went in to full-on Niagara Falls posture towards the floor.

“Damn it,” she hissed, examining the amber liquid’s stain on the carpet. Luckily the glass hadn’t broken. “I’ll, um … I’ll get something to clean that up.” Before she left the room, she managed a curtsy, an undertaking no doubt meant to keep her flushing cheeks out of view.

Michael turned back toward Ramiel, knowledge filling his features. “We’ll discuss
that
later.”

Call it having paid attention to her psych courses in college or women’s intuition, but Riona was damned sure Ramiel, Persephone, and Michael had just had a three-way conversation between them without a word being spoken.

Other books

Dead in the Water by Ted Wood
The Years of Fire by Yves Beauchemin
The Survivors: Book One by Angela White, Kim Fillmore, Lanae Morris
The Troop by Nick Cutter
The Princess Problem by Diane Darcy
Game of Temptation by Santoso, Anda J.
Just One Kiss by Amelia Whitmore