The Perdition Score (32 page)

Arwan grins down at me.

“Look at you now. Selling your soul for true love. It's like a sonnet.”

“Yeah. I'm goddamn Shakespeare. Do we have a deal?”

“As long as you understand, and not to belabor the point, that you're dead if we're disappointed in the least.”

“And I'll dance a jig while you're doing it.”

“Careful. Don't tempt me.”

He stares at the ground, thinking. His boots are looking a little threadbare. He glances back at the house.

“Wait here,” he says, and walks into the mansion.

Hesediel says, “Are you mad? Trusting these brigands with Candy and our whole scheme?”

“We don't have any other choice. Just be cool. This is all going to work out great.”

“He doesn't seem to like you very much.”

“I grow on people. Sometimes it takes a while.”

“It truly does.”

Arwan comes back a few minutes later, trailed by a dozen small men dressed in the same gray cloaks and jerkins as him, all carrying bows and swords.

Hesediel starts to stand. I wave her back.

When he comes to the tree line, he nods.

“It's a deal. Where's this woman of yours?”

“Won't your bosses notice that you're all missing?”

“I told them that we're buggering off into the woods for a
look around. We were each delighted to be rid of the other.”

“Come on.”

I lead them to where Bill is sitting with Candy. She's paler than before.

Arwan gets close and looks her over.

“She's not so big for us to carry.”

“I told you.”

“And she knows the way to the treasure?”

“She'll lead you straight to it.”

“All right, then.”

“Give me a minute.”

I kneel next to Candy.

“Change of plans. Remember the little guys from Kill City who saved my bacon? They're taking you home.”

“What? No. I want to stay with you.”

“You're sick. You need to get out of here. And someone needs to take Hesediel's blood back to Vidocq.”

She grabs my sleeve.

“What if you get lost again down here?”

“I'm not getting lost. Me, Bill, and Hesediel are doing this one thing. Then I'm heading straight home. I'll be right behind you.”

“Promise?”

“I'll get Abbot to advance me some salary and take you to fucking Florida. How's that?”

“Will you wear one of those hats with the mouse ears?”

“You're a horrible woman, but yes. I will.”

“Okay, then.”

She looks at Bill and Hesediel.

“Thanks, guys. I'm glad I met you both.”

“Me too, ma'am,” says Bill. He leans over and kisses her hand.

“Go with God,” says Hesediel.

I look at Arwan. He motions to his men. A couple come over and easily lift Candy between them.

As they start down the hill, Arwan comes over.

“Well, I hope for both our sakes that this is a fond farewell. If it's not . . .”

He draws his thumb across his throat.

I point down the hill.

“Take care of her.”

“She's as safe as a goose chick tucked under its mother's belly,” he says. Then walks away. It's only a few seconds before he and the other Grays disappear into the trees.

I get out my na'at.

“What might I ask is that?” says Bill.

“A Hellion weapon.”

“Huh—never seen one of those before.”

“You'll get a good look at one now. Once we're done with the guards, I'm using it on Wormwood.”

“Then let's get to it.”

“Let's,” says Hesediel.

B
ILL STAYS UP
front while me and Hesediel go into the forest around back.

She starts the party by manifesting her Gladius and sprinting through the woods torching everything like a pyromaniac who got a gallon of high octane for Christmas. I bark some Hellion hoodoo I haven't used since the arena. The tops of the trees along the far edge of the woods explode in flames,
sending burning tree limbs onto the roof and through the windows at the rear of Wormwood's playhouse.

As the first Hellions run out to the woods, Bill steps into the clearing and blasts away with the Colt. Cuts down three before they know what's happening. The rest, maybe ten in all, come out of the trees firing wildly. A few at the rear of the pack are burning when they run into the clearing. Hesediel strides from the inferno and downs them all with her Gladius. That gets their attention. The rest make a break for the mansion. Bill hunkers behind one of the vans and fires. The guards open up in his direction, pumping automatic rifles into the side of the van. This really pisses me off, but gives me a chance to get into the fight.

While they're all looking in Bill's direction, I come out of the trees, firing and throwing more hoodoo. I wound a couple, and when the rest fire in my direction, I bring down one of the burning trees on top of them.

It barely misses the group and I'm left with my ass hanging out in the open. I hit the deck, firing blind as bullets kick up clods of dirt around my head. That's fine, though. Really, Bill and I aren't even trying to hit them anymore. We're just keeping them interested in us and not the sky.

A few of the real hard-ass Hellions stand their ground, firing, reloading, and firing again. The rest look around for somewhere to run that isn't on fire or full of flying bullets. It never occurs to them how fucked they are.

Graceful as a feathered torpedo, Hesediel swoops from the sky, her Gladius slicing and dicing the guards in the back. She lands and the hard-asses empty their clips into her armor. The sound is deafening, but doesn't last long. Bill and I take
out a couple of pricks with our last bullets while Hesediel beheads the last two in one smooth motion.

Hesediel stands guard with her Gladius while Bill and I reload. If there are any guards left in the woods, they're Kentucky fried. Not a problem.

The grounds of the mansion, the hillside—everywhere we look—is a wall of flame. Sparks arc onto the mansion's smoldering roof. The back of the place is already on fire. All we have to do is wait for the scared dummies inside to decide they want to be dead dummies outside. The light from the flames is weirdly beautiful. It illuminates everything in a wavering, liquid pattern of reds and yellows.

A shadow streaks across the flickering light.

Hesediel's armor rings out again. A hundred church bells clanging at once. Something slams her onto her back, leaving a deep, scorched dent in her breastplate. A few yards away Hadraniel drops lightly to the ground, the glare from her Gladius brighter than the blazing forest. She looks every bit as crazed as she did on the boulevard. Her angelic flesh is dry as sandpaper. Black lines ring her eyes. She's so tweaked she can't even hold her Gladius still. But it doesn't make her look weak. It just reveals her true face, the grimace of a celestial berserker ready to burn down Heaven, God, and every mortal soul there ever was.

Hesediel rolls easily onto her feet. I start toward her, but she holds up a hand to stop me. Hadraniel looks from her to me, then back to Hesediel.

“Is this your new lord, sister? The Abomination? How desperate your God must be.”

“He's still your father too, Hadraniel.”

Hadraniel looks at the sky.

“Not mine and not yours anymore. But you're too sentimental to see it.”

“Better to have a heart than a twisted soul.”

“Better a twisted soul than no future.”

Hadraniel flicks her Gladius through the air. Ash and burning cinders fall on the angels' armor. On their faces and hair.

“I know better than to ask you to come with me again,” says Hadraniel.

“It would be a waste of both our time.”

“So be it.”

I thought I was fast. Hell, I thought Arwan was fast. But with their wings outstretched, the charging angels are just a haze of fire and flashing armor.

They fight on the open ground in front of the mansion and in the burning forest. Swoop around each other above the flaming treetops. Their armor clangs and peals when they slam into each other. Shrieks when they glance off each other, metal sliding across metal.

It's hard to tell the two apart. High in the air, one of them spins, catching the other flat across the back. Burning feathers explode into the air like skyrockets. The injured angel tries to stay aloft, but can't. She weaves uncertainly, clearly groggy. Tucking in her wings, she dive-bombs just beneath the attacking angel's killing blow.

She comes in low for a landing, but misjudges it. Hits the ground hard and slides across the road almost to the mansion door, tearing up tarmac, soil, and concrete. Hesediel staggers to her feet and takes a fighting stance but the armor on her
back is burned open, like someone took a plasma torch to it. A lot of her hair is singed off and half of her face is black. But she doesn't back down. Neither does Hadraniel.

She turns slow circles in the sky above us. Taking her time. Letting Hesediel's injuries do their work, tiring and weakening her.

Hesediel stumbles. Catches herself. Her Gladius flickers.

Hadraniel swoops like a falcon in free fall, and batters Hesediel's Gladius with her own, knocking her off balance. Hesediel staggers back a few steps. Her arms shake like the Gladius is suddenly too heavy to hold. I run through the falling embers to her. Bill fires shot after shot at Hadraniel, who doesn't even bother to acknowledge them.

Hesediel is trying to stand when I get to her. I pull her to her feet. She pushes me away. Her speech is slurred, but I can understand her.

“Get away. This is not your fight.”

I manifest my Gladius and stand beside her.

She pushes me again.

“No,” she says. “No.”

Overhead, Hadraniel laughs at us.

“A lovers' quarrel, is it?” she shouts, turning slow circles.

“Stark, please,” says Hesediel. “Let this go. Let me go.”

“I don't leave friends behind.”

“If I'm your friend respect my wishes.
Go
.”

I hesitate for a moment, but I get it. I let my Gladius go out. Hesediel can't even stand up straight anymore, but she manages to say, “Thank you.”

I want to give her my gun. My knife. My na'at. Something.
But I know she won't take any of them. So, I press the only thing she might take into her hand.

And walk away, leaving her there in the open ground.

Bill comes running over.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It's what she wants.”

“You're going to stand there and let her die?”

“It's her fight. She doesn't want me.”

Bill looks up into the sky, sputters, “Shit and damnation.”

I take his arm and pull him away.

“We're not going anywhere. If things go wrong, I'm perfectly happy to stab Hadraniel in the fucking back.”

When we're clear, Hesediel manifests her Gladius again.

Hadraniel makes a couple of more turns in the sky. Then drops. I can barely see her.

When she hits Hesediel, she knocks her twenty feet, through the side of a van. Hesediel stumbles back into the open, but her Gladius is out. She takes a few steps. Collapses onto her back.

Hadraniel lands and lets her Gladius go out too. She takes a knife, like the one Hesediel used at Bill's bar, from a sheath at her side. She doesn't rush. She savors the moment. Yeah, she's gloating, but she also wants to see if Hesediel is playing possum. It goes on like that, with Hadraniel circling Hesediel, for several more minutes. They talk, but I can't hear them.

Finally, Hadraniel steps over Hesediel. Drops her full weight onto the other's damaged armor. I can hear Hesediel moan all the way across the yard.

Hadraniel holds her knife so the fire dances off the blade.

“Are you watching, Abomination? I want you to see this.”

“Fuck you, Almira Gulch. You and me. We're next.”

“Glorious. I so hoped you'd say that.”

She raises the knife and, in a blur, drives it through Hesediel's breastplate. Holds it there while her sister screams.

Hadraniel leans back and looks over at me and Bill. Opens her arms, giddy at the kill.

Lowers her guard.

Hesediel's arm moves. Just a few inches. Into a tiny space where Hadraniel's armor has shifted, revealing a sliver of skin.

Hadraniel jumps up, pulling at her armor. Trying to get to where Hesediel hit her. She runs her hands over her skin. Looks at the palms and holds it up for us to see. No blood.

Hadraniel goes back to Hesediel and pulls out her knife. The blade breaks off in the armor. She throws the hilt into the dirt and walks our way.

She gets about ten paces before she falls over, choking.

Hesediel sits up, but can't get to her feet. Bill and I run over. Get on either side and lift her up. When she's standing on her own, she loosens the buckles on the sides of her armor, letting her ruined breast- and back-plates fall to the ground.

She puts a hand over her chest wound and comes back with only a little blood. She smiles at us through her burned face.

“It's good armor,” she says. “And I'm a better actor.”

Bill and I help her over to Hadraniel, who's tearing at the ground, trying to crawl away. Hesediel slips a foot under her sister's belly and flips her over.

Hadraniel's face is going from blue to black. She gasps for air. Clutches at her throat.

Hesediel unbuckles Hadraniel's breastplate and pushes it away. Takes out her knife. Hadraniel is barely breathing. Her arms are limp. Hesediel bends and kisses her forehead.

She says, “Forgive me, sister.” And drives her blade into Hadraniel's heart. The fallen angel lurches just once. Hesediel stands and slides the knife back in its sheath. When she looks again, Hadraniel is gone. Vanished like all dead angels, good and bad alike.