Sons of Angels (33 page)

“And I am incredibly fertile, it seems.” Jasfoup grinned and did a little foot shuffle.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that conversation. Felicia was doing something you wouldn’t know anything about.”

“And I missed it?” Jasfoup winked. “Can I watch next time?”

“She was being discreet.”

“Is it true?” Harold looked at each of them in turn. “You’re having a baby, Julie?”

“Quite true, yes.” Julie smiled in the direction of his voice.

Harold looked at Jasfoup. “You jammy bugger. I’d love to be a dad.”

Jasfoup grinned. “You should have picked someone else as a girlfriend then. Someone alive, for preference.”

“Har-de-har,” Harold wagged his finger. “You picked her for me, don’t forget. I can’t help loving her. She’s so perfect.”

“Except the being alive part.”

“Will you two stop bickering?” Felicia sat at the head of the bed so she could support her sister. “This is supposed to be about Julie. I’m sure Harold is just as virile as you are, Jasfoup.”

“Thank you, Felicia.” Harold turned to the demon. “See? Someone thinks I’m virile.”

“Not that I’m offering my services as a mother, you understand.”

Harold coughed. “Of course not.”

“That’s right. He doesn’t want puppies.” Jasfoup sat on the side of the bed and took Julie’s hand. “He wants a proper baby, like us.”

Harold gave a bark of laughter. “And just how are you so certain that the product of a mage and a demon won’t have hooves and tentacles?”

“That’s what I said.” Jasfoup smiled at him. “A proper baby.”

Julie frowned. “I’m not sure I want–”

“Of course we’ll love him, whatever he turns out to be, won’t we? Even if he’s human.”

“Of course.” Julie rubbed her stomach. “We’ll love him dearly.”

“Or her.” Felicia smiled. “It could be a girl.”

“I suppose.” Jasfoup sounded doubtful.

“What did you want me for, anyway?” Harold looked into his empty mug. “Not that I’m not pleased to offer congratulations, of course, but it’s half past eight now and I need to go.”

“Right, yes.” Julie hoisted herself upright. “I want to make another seeing ball.”

Harold looked doubtful. “Is that wise? In your condition, I mean.”

“Don’t you start!” Julie stared at him until he looked away. “I know what I’m doing.”

“All right.” Harold lifted the book. “Have we got the bits of whoever you want to see through?”

“Not yet.” Julie pulled a few hairs from her head. “Here you are.”

“You?” Harold frowned. “How can you look through yourself?”

“We don’t know. It depends whether the fetiche works through her eyes or her brain.” Jasfoup shrugged. “Nothing ventured...”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Harold sounded doubtful.

“I am.”

“Very well. Start your engines.” Harold opened his book.

Julie held out her palm, her lips moving as she spoke the spell to make a fetiche. When it began to form Harold cast from his book, watching for the flash as Julie’s hairs were consumed by the psychic energy. “There. What do you see?”

“Nothing,” Julie sighed. “Though I see brightness instead of the dark spirit world, which makes a pleasant change.”

She closed her fist over the fetiche. “Oh! I saw a flicker of something then it went dark.”

“How odd,” said Harold. “You don’t suppose–”

“I do.” Julie began to laugh and held the fetiche between her thumb and forefinger. “Jasfoup! You’re more handsome than I imagined, though it’s disconcerting to see both your forms at once.” She closed her eyes. “That’s better.”

“You’re seeing through the fetiche?” Felicia looked at the marble-like object. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. It certainly wasn’t what I expected.”

“How odd.” Jasfoup reached toward her. “May I?”

Julie handed him the object. “This is bizarre. Oh! Look at me. I haven’t so much as brushed my hair this morning.”

“You’ve had other things on your mind.” Felicia squeezed her hand. “Your pregnancy, for one.”

“Oh, yes.” Julie grinned. “Now I’ll be able to see my baby.

“Won’t this be a bit inconvenient?” Jasfoup tossed the fetiche from hand to hand. “You’ll have to carry it everywhere.”

“Could we drill it and hang it on a necklace?” asked Harold. “That would be closer to your point of view.

“Stop it, Jasfoup.” Julie made a grab for her new eye. “You’re making me feel sick.”

“Am I? Sorry.” The demon dropped it back into her hand.

Felicia squeezed her arm. “I’m so glad you’ve got a bit of sight back. It’s almost a pity you don’t have the tissue regeneration skills of a werewolf, then you could insert it in place of one of your useless eyes and see properly again.”

“You could make a second one and see normally.” Harold examined the sphere.

Julie smiled. “Then I wouldn’t be able to see the spirits. I like the idea of replacing one eye, though. Do you think a hospital would do it?”

“I doubt it.” Jasfoup laughed. “Can you imagine their faces if we asked them to replace a living eye with what looks like a marble, even if the eye doesn’t actually work?”

“We must know someone who could do it.” Julie frowned. “It can’t be too hard a job to take an eye out. I could do it myself with a spoon.”

Harold’s face was a picture. “I’d rather you didn’t. Besides, any surgery now might be harmful to the baby.”

“I suppose.” Julie drummed her fingers on the table. “The chance of me falling over is equally as dangerous for the child.”

“How about we sticky tape it to your forehead?” Harold said. “It would save you having to hold it, at least until the baby’s born.”

“We could mount it on a cap.” Felicia gave her sister a nudge. “You wouldn’t look like a total moron then.”

“Good idea.” Julie turned the eye to look at her sister, then behind herself. “What about you, Wrack? You’ve been surprisingly quiet for the last half an hour.”

Wrack shrugged. “Nothin’ much to say. You’ve got your eyesight back, so you don’t need me to guide you around no more, and you’re having a baby, so you don’t need someone to love no more, neither.”

“I still need you, silly.” Julie reached behind her head to give him an affectionate pat. “When I’ve got the baby I’m going to need you more than ever.”

“To fetch and carry, I suppose?” Wrack shrugged. “I’ll stay around for a bit but if I get a better offer...”

“He’s having a huff. He feels impotent.” Jasfoup nudged Harold. “Not like me, eh?”

“Put a sock in it.” Harold picked up his book. “I’m already tired of hearing about your virility.”

“Ha! I’ll have to put a sock on it. An extra large sock.”

“Enough, all of you.” Felicia scowled at them. “What do you think this is? The Goon Show? We should all be happy for Julie, not sniping at each other. Wrack.” She turned to the imp. “Julie has become a mage. What self-respecting mage would be without an imp? You’re going to be even more important than you were before. Jasfoup, you’ve got to be able to support her and keep her focused on the task in hand as well as see to the needs of her newborn, but you shouldn’t let her overdo things. She has to have plenty of rest. Harold, we all need to stick together.”

Harold nodded. “You’re quite right. All for one and all that.”

“Good.” Felicia sat back down and smiled into her sister’s new eye. “Wrack? Fetch me a cap and some needles and cotton.”

Chapter 38

Felicia threaded a path through the display cabinets and shelves of The Goddess Provides to find Meinwen already brewing a kettle.

The witch spoke without turning around. “I saw you coming.”

“In the cards?”

“No, through the window.”

“Right.” Felicia made a polite laugh. “Tell me, how do you feel about Hell?” Felicia spoke while Meinwen’s back was still turned. Her friend stiffened.

“I wouldn’t choose it as a holiday destination.” Meinwen didn’t turn around. “Why?”

Felicia screwed up her courage. “I need to ask you a big favor.”

Meinwen finished the drinks: instant coffee for Felicia and chamomile tea, made with the fresh herb, for herself. She carried them to the little table at the back of the shop and sat out of earshot of any customers coming in. Felicia sat on the only other chair.

“Go on.” Meinwen passed the coffee. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not.” Felicia took a sip of the hot liquid. “The only way we can defeat Puriel is by sending him to Hell.”

“Oh?” Meinwen used a pair of chopsticks to fish out the sprigs of chamomile. “Can an angel be sent to Hell? I thought they were mutually exclusive.”

“I don’t think it’s ever been tried, although technically they’re the same species as demons.”

“What good will it do? Won’t the purity of Puriel–” She smiled. “–prevent any damage being done to him?”

“Probably.” Felicia shrugged. “We’re not trying to kill him. He’s an immortal being anyway, so I doubt we could even try. All we want to do is stop him hunting us.”

“How will sending him to Hell achieve that?” Meinwen caught Felicia’s gaze. “Won’t he just fly straight back out again?”

“Not if we can drop him into the central circle.” Felicia tried her coffee again and took a long swallow.

“You mean the circle of ice? You want to freeze him?”

“Exactly. It was Jasfoup’s idea. Or Harold’s. I forget now. The point is, the ice would freeze him solid.”

“And give Lucifer something to look at as an added bonus.” Meinwen smiled. “So what’s the favor you wanted to ask?”

“Julie has an ability to make what she calls fetiches–solid little marbles that contain spells until they’re broken, a bit like spells you can carry.”

Meinwen laughed. “Holy hand grenades of Antioch? You’re having me on.”

Felicia couldn’t help smiling at the reference. “No, straight up. They work like a charm.”

“Better than my charms, probably.”

“Sorry.” Felicia grimaced at the unintended insult. “The point is, she thinks she can make a matched pair that form a sort of pipeline from one to the other, so whoever breaks one will be sent to where the other is.”

“And the other will be in the frozen pit of Hell?”

“That’s right.” Felicia finished her coffee, more to delay asking the favor than because she was thirsty.

“So where do I come in? You’re not going to ask me to go to Hell and plant this charm, are you?”

“You’re a mortal. You won’t be frozen by the ice and you’re the only one I can trust to do it properly.”

“Why me? Why not you, or your sister, or one of your werewolf friends? Why not one of those demons you were telling me about?”

“We’re all nephilim. We’d all freeze.”

“How can you be sure I won’t?” Meinwen stared into her tea.

“Because you’re on a different path. You are a ‘woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars’.”

“The God, the Goddess and the spirits.” Meinwen steepled her fingers. “That’s from Revelations, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it applies to you as well.”

“Isn’t there a prophecy about a mortal walking through Hell?” Meinwen frowned. “Apart from Dante, I mean.”

Felicia shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Who believes in prophecies?”

Meinwen laughed. “That’s rich, considering you’re staking my life on one of St. John’s.”

“That’s different. I don’t claim to be an expert on theology, but I know a man who is. He says it’s all true, within the framework of Christianity.”

Meinwen shook her head. “I’m really not sure about this. I’d balk if you asked me to go to Birmingham, never mind Hell. How am I supposed to get there? Don’t I have to die?”