Sons of Angels (43 page)

“Herself?” Felicia frowned. “I thought angels were always male.”

“You thought wrong, though none would blame you. She has killed many times to prevent that little piece of gossip getting out.”

“Why? What does it matter?”

“Would you have treated her differently had you known?” Azazel nodded. “Of course you would. It’s in your nature. So it is for the other angels. They would never have taken her seriously. She would never have become the Binder if her secret was known.”

“Are we free then?” Felicia drew lines across the dirt with the sword point. “Will the angels leave us alone from now on?”

“Leave you alone?” Azazel cocked his head to one side. “Perhaps. They think the dragon dead, the apocalypse averted.”

“And is it?”

“For a few years yet.” Azazel smiled.

“Can I keep his...her weapons?” Harold hefted the sword.

“Yes.” Azazel deftly unbuckled Raphael’s scabbard and holster and handed them to him. Now be off. I have work to do. You have your future to deal with and I have mine.”

Gillian smiled. “What happens when the future has come and gone?”

“Then, vampire...” Azazel frowned. “Then you will belong to me.”

Felicia plucked at her arm. “Come on, that day is too far off to fret about.” She gave Harold an upward nod and a pointed look at Devious.

Harold picked up the imp and tucked him under one arm as they backed off, leaving the grigori to enjoy his time alone with Raphael. There were some things about angels he really didn’t want to know.

“What about my child?” Julie stood over the snaking line of ash, all that was left of the hatchling dragon.

“It’s better this way.” Jasfoup folded his arm across her shoulder and pulled her away. “Better to let them live in the imagination.” He gave her a squeeze. “Perhaps we can have another child.”

“I’d like that.” Julie put an arm around his waist. “How did Azazel suddenly appear?”

“Who can tell?” Jasfoup risked a glance back toward the duke of Hell. “He was probably watching us all along and just appeared when the battle was won.”

“Taking the credit without the risk.” Gillian moved away.

Felicia led the way back to the car. Harold followed with a sword in each hand, swishing them to make the air crackle with released ozone and making
schm schm
noises.

She took a final look over her shoulder and willed away the gooseflesh when she saw the glint of reflected streetlight on Azazel’s exposed blade.

Harold trudged back to the car, the sword slung from his shoulder beneath his coat. “I didn’t know Raphael was a woman. Who’d have thought it?”

“He wasn’t a woman.” Jasfoup faltered. “She wasn’t, I mean. Not in the beginning. For years, Him upstairs would only accept the company of other men. It was only after the Eden fiasco that he relented and allowed the angels to decide what gender they wanted to be. Less than one percent are female, even now.”

“That’s hardly a basis for an equal opportunities establishment.” Gillian nursed her injured hand. The blisters on her palm had risen and burst, leaving her with a jagged line of slowly healing scar tissue.

“Oh, He’s all for equal ops, I’m told.” Jasfoup was sauntering, the only one of them not affected by the rain. “He’ll take anyone as long as they’re less intelligent than Him, beautiful and male.”

“That’s a shame.” Devious peered out from the folds of Harold’s coat. “You’re one quality short, master.”

Chapter 51

Felicia almost bumped into Harold when he stopped and turned a slow circle. “What’s up?”

“Heaven.” Harold looked distracted. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” Felicia sniffed. “I can smell wet grass, trees, early roses.” She turned in a small circle. “Dog shit, tarmac, exhaust fumes, sulfur.”

“Sulfur, yes.” Harold nodded. “Where’s it coming from?”

“The other side of the road, why?”

“That’s not just sulfur, Felicia. That’s brimstone. My father is nearby.”

“But I thought your father was–”

“Lucifer, yes.” Harold looked at Jasfoup. “Did you know he was coming up here?”

“Of course. The Lord of Hell always refers his itinerary to a level five tempter for approval.”

Harold frowned. “Was that sarcasm?”

“Of course.” Jasfoup clapped a hand on Harold’s shoulder. “He doesn’t consult me about his visits to the mortal realm. Why would he? It’s not your birthday, is it?”

“No.” Harold chewed his lip. “It’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think, that Lucifer comes up to the surface just as we’re finishing off two angels.”

“No such thing as coincidence. Do you think he’s involved?”

“There’s one way to find out.” Harold looked at Felicia. “Find him, Felicia. Find him. There’s a good girl.”

“I’m not a dog, you know.” Felicia might have been snarling, but it was more for her than for Harold. She could only be grateful that she wasn’t in wolf form, where everyone would see her tail wagging. “Come on then.”

She loped across the road, heedless of traffic. The others followed at a more cautious pace with Gillian in the lead and Jasfoup at the back guiding Julie, despite Wrack’s presence.

They caught up with Felicia at the back door of the Darkside and went in using the contents of Harold’s wallet as an all-areas pass, much to his disgust. Harold nodded to people standing around the dance floor, smiling and waving, and once in a while giving someone a hug.

Gillian snarled whenever he seemed to be on intimate terms with a stranger. “Do you know these people?”

“Not in the slightest. I’m just being friendly.”

“They’re cattle.”

Harold wagged his finger at her. “Never judge a book by its cover, Gillian. I learned that the first time I read a book of vampire stories and realized it wasn’t meant to be funny.”

“Felicia? Which way?”

Julie held up a hand for silence, cocking her head to one side. “Listen. Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” All Felicia could hear was the thump of the music.

“Voices. Angelic voices. Where are the stairs up?”

“Over there.” Jasfoup pointed. “But it says
authorized staff only
.”

Harold raised his eyebrows. “When did that ever stop you? You’re a demon. You should be used to breaking the rules.”

Jasfoup shuffled his feet. “True, but an angel owns this club.”

“What makes you think that?” Gillian was already making for the door he’d pointed out, but Jasfoup caught hold of her arm and stopped her. “Ever since I saw the poster of the management behind the bar. See the chap in the hat with the black-in-black eyes?”

Gillian nodded. “Cool effect. What of it?”

Jasfoup shook his head. “That’s Midnight, the mortal form of Uriel. He’s a Seraph, the Fire of God.”

“It’ll be fine.” Harold clapped him on the back and pulled open the door.

Jasfoup shook his head. “You don’t remember stabbing him in the Garden of Eden, then?”

* * * *

Felicia groaned as Jasfoup stopped halfway up the stairs. “Another one you can’t get anywhere near?”

“I did once and it all but extinguished me. I’d rather not risk it again.”

Felicia and Harold drew their swords. “Stay here, if you like. We’ll go up without you.”

“If they’ve hurt my dad...” Harold’s mouth tightened into a grim line

Gillian grinned at him. “We’ve destroyed two angels this evening. We can make it a hat trick.”

“I’m glad you have such faith.” Harold smiled and patted her shoulder. “Got any spare?”

Gillian laughed and pulled Felicia upward, drawing her twin fighting blades.

Felicia increased her speed. “Last one to the top is a ninny.”

Jasfoup grimaced. “I can’t help it.”

“They might need me.” Julie swiveled her hand with the eyeball in it. “Will you be all right on your own down here?”

Jasfoup looked around. Twenty or thirty men were clustered around a stage watching a pole dancer. “I’ll manage.” He pulled out a tin of business cards and winked.

Gillian and Felicia raced up the stairs, homing in on the scent of brimstone to the single door at the top of the stairwell.

Gillian kicked it in without pausing, bursting into the room beyond with her blades raised, though what use they would be against angels, Felicia had no idea. She and Harold followed with their flaming swords.

Gillian dropped into a fighting crouch, one blade extended in her right hand, and the other in a guard position. Harold adopted a defensive stance with his sword high and Felicia just held hers in front of her, unsure of its proper use.

“Freeze, arsehole!” Gillian shouted at the back of the black-skinned gentleman she assumed was Midnight.

“One move and you’re dead.” Harold’s tone was more even. “Discorporated, anyway. I’ve got Raphael’s sword here and I know it can take you out.”

Midnight held up his hands and turned to face them. As he turned, they were able to see past him. “Dad!” Harold flashed the fallen angel a brief smile. “I knew you were here. I could smell your cologne.” He raised his eyebrows but didn’t waver from his stance, not changing until Midnight had turned fully, when he altered to a front guard, the blade inches from the angel’s neck.

“You’re making a mistake, boy.” Midnight’s growl was as menacing as a pit bull on amphetamines. “I could take the whole damn lot of you out.”

“That would not be wise, Uriel.” Louis stepped forward. “It would have precipitated the very thing you’re so keen to prevent. I would have retaliated, had you harmed my son.”

“My apologies.” Midnight drew back. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“Clearly.” Louis nodded. “You can let him go, Harold.”

Harold was surprised. “You trust him? He’s an angel, Father. How can you, of all people, trust an angel?”

“Because our goals are the same, for once.” Louis walked over and laid a hand on the blade, pushing it gently down. “Neither of us wants this world to end. Let it go.”

“He’s been killing nephilim.” Harold pointed at Midnight. “By proxy, at least. Azazel’s really unhappy.”

Midnight chuckled. “He would be, wouldn’t he? They’re his attempt to build an army to storm Heaven.”

“I hardly think a few hundred nephilim is a serious threat to the choirs of angels.” Harold sheathed his sword. “I think it was more a case of enjoying his children, which, if I recall, was exactly why God started all this in the first place.”

It was Louis’s turn to laugh. “He has a point, Uriel. You have to admit that.”

“It doesn’t change anything.” Midnight dropped his arms and sat back in his chair. He pointed upward. “He’ll still destroy the world if he’s made aware of them.”

“Not anymore.” Harold placed his hands on the girls’ arms, encouraging them to put their blades away as well. “The dragon’s dead.” He looked at Louis. “Puriel killed him.”

Louis nodded. “That’s too bad.”

“Too bad?” Julie snorted from the doorway. “That was my son.”

“Jasfoup’s too.” Harold took a seat on the modern leather sofa. “I have a plan. As I see it, there are two problems. One is the coming of the apocalypse, which the death of... George?”

Julie nodded.

“...has averted. The second is G-d becoming aware of the nephilim. Is that right?”

Midnight nodded. “You have my attention, boy. What’s this plan of yours?”

“According to Genesis, when God marked Cain, he hid from the sight of God. That means that he became nocturnal, doesn’t it?”

Midnight nodded.

“He still is.” Louis leaned forward. “Not that he comes out much, these days. He’s a little jaded after seven thousand years.”

“Then my idea is, the nephilim confine their powers to the hours of darkness.” Harold leaned back. “Unless it’s unavoidable in life-threatening situations. What do you think?” He glanced across at Louis and Midnight, who were looking at each other.