The Descent Series, Books 1-3: Death's Hand, The Darkest Gate, and Dark Union (The Descent Series, Volume 1) (76 page)

“That’s not what McIntyre told us,” he said, and she finally focused on him. The elevator’s light felt like a spike directly into her forehead. “He said that angels are your specialty.”

She grimaced. “Are we done?”

The elevator rattled to a stop. Anthony and Allyson waited for them on the other side, but Zettel stopped her from opening the door. “Did you find anything about Michele Newcomb’s murder yet?”

“I haven’t been looking,” she said dully. “It’s on my to-do list.”

“You should know she didn’t have her earpiece when we found the body—a Bluetooth device with UKA branding. We need it back. You can borrow one of our cars.” He handed keys to her, opened the door, and let Elise get out. “Next meeting is at four. See you in a few hours.”

She saluted ironically. “Yes, sir.”

By the time Anthony and Elise stepped outside, the last Union vehicle was nothing but a trail of dust vanishing on the horizon. They had left behind a black sedan with an antenna on the hood that was longer than she was tall.

She jingled the keys as she considered the antenna. Taking that car would make them too easy to track. “Okay. You’re driving.”

Anthony took them out of town at her direction. It was dark and comfortable inside the Union car, which was like a mobile base—the dashboard had three inset monitors, the plush leather seats had buttons on the arm rests, and something beeped every thirty seconds. Elise sank low in the chair and shut her eyes.

“This is so cool,” he said, poking the touch screens as he drove.

“Pay attention to the road.”

“How could they afford something like this? The car was not cheap, and they have a whole fleet of them.”

“They beat up the new kopides and steal their lunch money,” she said. “I told you to watch the road.”

Anthony left the equipment alone for the drive out of town, though it obviously pained him. Once they reached the hill south of Silver Wells, Elise directed him to stop by Leticia’s car, which was still dusty and inoperative on the side of the road.

“We’re switching? Are you kidding?” he asked. “The air conditioning doesn’t even work.”

She ignored him and got into Leticia’s car. Anthony reluctantly followed.

The McIntyre’s trailer stood empty on their property. The harsh daytime sun revealed all its ugly flaws: the holes chewed by mice, the trash bags piled by the back door, the window that had been replaced by plastic. But the ugliest thing of all wasn’t visible to Elise’s eyes. It was the residue of powerful magic performed on the premises, with the knowledge that it couldn’t have been Leticia who cast it.

Elise closed her eyes and let the sensations wash over her. It was like hearing a foreign language for the first time. She knew the patterns meant something, but she couldn’t understand a single word. The magic left a sour taste of iron on the back of her tongue.

Her boyfriend didn’t sense any of it. He groaned and wiped sweat from the back of his neck. “It’s hot,” Anthony said. “I’m going in.”

The door wasn’t locked. There was no point, that far away from civilization. The marmalade cat that belonged to McIntyre’s daughter darted out the door when he opened it.

Leticia had closed all the windows before leaving, and the air inside their tin can of a trailer was utterly unbreathable. Anthony opened the windows and turned on the ceiling fan.

Elise stood just inside the living room and scanned the McIntyre’s home, trying to see it anew. Freshly-painted walls. Glass coffee table. Big TV. New couch. The mobile home wasn’t very large. If there was evidence, there weren’t many places to hide it.

“New furniture,” Anthony said.

“What?”

“The couches are new. And they’ve been moved around recently, judging by the carpet.” Without waiting for her input, he dragged the white leather couch away from the wall.

The furniture might have been new, but the carpet wasn’t. Moving the couch revealed a burned patch in the floor—too big to be a cigarette burn. Elise crouched and ran her fingers over the paint. Had they been concealing a fire?

Her hand dropped to the carpet. There weren’t just burn marks. Something had dried in brown spots underneath the couch, too.

Blood.

She sat back on her heels and tried to ignore the suspicion that crept over her. Kopides bled all the time. Finding a few spots under the furniture was normal—she would have been more surprised to find nothing at all.

But the pattern of burned carpet next to blood bothered her. It bothered her a lot.

“I’m going to search their bedroom,” Elise said.

It was even hotter in the McIntyre’s room. She took a quick glance around—family portraits on the walls, crib waiting in the corner, sonogram on the dresser—and then tore into their drawers. She wasn’t nice or subtle about it. She threw their clothes on the floor as she searched, and found nothing.

The only interesting thing in the closet was a gun safe. It was unlocked and empty.

“Elise,” Anthony called.

She found him in Dana’s bedroom. Everything was painted a warm, inviting shade of green. Anthony had been riffling through her toy box. “Did you find any demons in the kid’s room?”

“No. But I don’t think this is a toy.” Anthony held up something small and black. “Dana must have found it and thought it was something fun to play with.”

Elise took it from him. It was a Bluetooth headset with white letters stamped on the side: UKA.

Her stomach lurched. “Shit.”

“UKA—that’s the Union logo, right? What does this mean?”

Her fist tightened on the earpiece. “It means McIntyre is a murderer.”

T
hat damn earpiece.

Elise rolled it over and over in her hands, trying to wish away the UKA logo, which was a circle crossed by an arrow. It was meant to symbolize the sword and shield of a kopis and his aspis. The Union wasn’t the first to use the imagery, but it was the first time that seeing it filled her with dread.

She sat on the step outside McIntyre’s trailer until her nose blistered under the sun and her hair was too hot to touch. Anthony stayed inside to enjoy sports on the massive TV. He didn’t seem bothered by sitting in a room where a Union recruiter had probably been killed, but then again, not much had been bothering him lately.

Elise knew what she needed to do. She needed to get back in the car, drive to Silver Wells, and give Zettel the earpiece.

It was the right thing. It would be justice.

But she kept turning it over and thinking of the times she fought with McIntyre at her back. She thought of what the Union would do to him when they had proof of their suspicions. And she thought of Dana’s little blond head sticking out of the sheets of her parent’s bed.

The sounds of a cheering audience and announcers cut off, and Anthony joined her on the step. “Jesus, it’s hot out here.” He sat at her side. His skin was chilly from sitting next to the swamp cooler. He took the earpiece and ran a finger over the logo. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s weird being here,” he said. “At first, I thought that you and this guy were like evil twins. You know, both of you are big, bad demon hunters, but he actually succeeded at having a normal life. He’s got a wife, two kids…”

“That doesn’t mean he’s normal,” she said.

“But if some murderer can do it, anyone can do it. Have a family, I mean.” Anthony dropped the earpiece on the step and grabbed her hand. “Forget about McIntyre, forget about the Union—let’s get married. Right now.”

Elise shook his hand off. “Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m completely serious. There are a million chapels in Vegas. We can grab our marriage license in the morning, and…”

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “That’s how you want to do it? You want to buy rings at a pawnshop, stand in front of some guy dressed like Elvis, and swear that we’ll be together until we die? You think that’s a good alternative to turning my friend over to the Union?”

He wasn’t listening. “Betty would have thought it was romantic. She always wished that she had eloped with her ex-husband at a casino instead of spending so much money on an outdoor wedding with three hundred guests.”

“Yeah. But Betty is dead.”

Anger clouded his face. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’ve told you that I don’t believe in making that kind of commitment, and I won’t keep repeating myself.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what about you and James?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What
about
James?”

“I caught what McIntyre said about kopides and aspides. ‘More fatal than family, more permanent than marriage.’ Those were the words, right?”

“It’s just some witch thing,” Elise said.

“But that’s what it is.” The volume of his voice increased with every word. His cheeks were red. “It’s permanent. Getting an aspis is the biggest commitment you can make as a kopis. So why is it you don’t want to talk about getting married? Is it because you’re not ready for it, or because you’re not into polygamy?”

“This conversation is moronic. I just found out that my friend murdered someone, lied to me, and let me take the blame with the Union,” she said in a measured tone. “At some point, I’m going to have to go tell them what he did. You think this is the time to talk about marriage?”

His mouth worked soundlessly. He stepped off the stairs onto the dirt, fists clenched tight.

“It will always be something. It will always be zombies, or giant spiders, or a murder, or the end of the goddamn
world
. It will never be a good time to talk about marriage. You want to put it off for now? Fine. But you owe me some kind of answer.”

“Anthony,” Elise said, “I don’t owe you anything. Not one goddamn thing.”

He stalked off, got in Leticia’s car, and slammed the door. It occurred to her, distantly, that it was her only way back to Silver Wells, and that she should probably stop him. But she didn’t move except to pick up the UKA earpiece.

The car kicked up dirt on its way out, trailed by a cloud of dust rising over the sagebrush. A hot wind blew it into her face.

But then it was gone, and she was alone.

Elise went inside and searched the kitchen. She had drunk all of McIntyre’s beer, but there was a hidden stash of tequila kept on a high shelf where Dana wouldn’t be able to reach. She threw the cap in the trash, took the bottle outside, and sat down to get wasted as the sunlight faded.

Anything was better than facing the Union again.

She reclined against the railing and started drinking.

A
s the sun
dropped, the sky turned orange and pink, and then violet. By the time violet faded to navy blue, the tequila was half-empty, and Elise was dozing on the stairs. The security light over the porch turned on. The cat slunk past the stairs, shooting a dirty look at her as it ducked under the trailer.

She hauled herself to a standing position with the help of the railing. Elise was unsteady on her feet, but it was a long walk to the road. She had plenty of time to sober up.

She had just climbed onto the steps when the light bulb over the porch flickered, and then died.

Pain lanced through her hand, and she hissed, jerking it away from the railing.

Blood oozed through her glove, but it wasn’t from a splinter driving through her hand. The air buzzed as though swarmed with flies.

She turned around, and came face to face with Nukha’il.

It took her a moment to realize that the tequila and heat hadn’t turned her delusional. He was composed, untouched by the heat, but utterly tangible. He wore a black suit with a red vest and black tie, which would have been appropriate for a wedding—or a funeral. His irises were a shade of pale blue that was almost white.

His wings were hidden. He looked like an ordinary man, aside from the way the heat didn’t touch him. But she could almost make out the haze of a gray halo behind his head, and it made her queasy.

She didn’t realize she was backing up until her back hit the trailer. It took all her willpower not to claw at her palms with her fingernails.

“What do you want?” Elise asked, and she was pleased that her words barely slurred.

“I’m here for the mediation.”

“You’re in the wrong place. The summit is in Silver Wells.”

“The Union is in Silver Wells,” he corrected. “The summit is wherever the ethereal and infernal delegations meet with kopis mediation. We’re only waiting for the infernal delegation now. And look—here he comes.” Nukha’il nodded beyond the trailer.

Elise glanced around the corner and saw nothing but night.

Pressure built in her skull. It was the weight of a thousand eyes on her back, like an entire stadium of men watching her. A sudden wind hissed through the sagebrush and sent rocks skittering across the dry ground. Her braid whipped behind her. She squinted, shielding her face from the dust.

Something heavy thumped against the other side of the mobile home, making the walls rattle. A cat yowled.

As quickly as it started, everything went silent again.

The McIntyres’ cat slunk out from under the trailer, sat between Elise and the angel, and curled its tail around its paws. It focused on her. The pupils had devoured the entire eye, making its stare hauntingly black. A halo of dark energy surrounded the cat’s head.

Dana’s cat had been possessed by a demon. Leticia would be pissed.

The infernal delegate is present.

The words slithered up Elise’s spine, and a thousand voices whispered in echo of the first. The cat had been taken by one demon, but the entire infernal delegation was in the night surrounding them, giving weight to the shadows.

“And so am I,” said the angel. “I am Nukha’il, the ethereal delegate. Elise?”

They were both waiting for her to complete the triad. There were formalities to that kind of thing—a ritual. She had read about previous summits in James’s books, but she never expected to be involved.

Adrenaline cleared her head of the alcohol’s haze. “The human delegate is here,” she said. “We can start.”

With that simple statement, the quality of the air changed. The breeze died. The night became silent, almost reverent.