Chapter 05
I just looked at Michael for a long moment. "You're telling me thirty Fallen angels are trying to kill me?"
"No," Michael said with a slight shake of his head. "I doubt that all of them are here. It's rare for the Fallen to be united under a single cause. And some are inactive, with their coins being held by the Church."
"Nice," I said. "You've taken them on before then?"
"Several times," Michael confirmed. "The Fallen are the reason the swords exist. We work to counter them, to keep them in check."
"Which explains why you and your friends came a'running?" I guessed. "I'm assuming that the big guy bears one of the other two swords, right?"
"Sanya carries Esperacchius," Michael confirmed, nodding after the taller of the two. "Shiro bears Fidelacchius."
I looked at the retreating back of the smaller man, but all he had on him was a cane. Looking at it, I realized there might be more to it than I'd realized. "Great. So the Knights just happened to be having a guys night out, and came running when they saw Fugly start up a game of bumper cars?"
My friend hesitated before replying. "No. We knew he would be coming for you."
My temper flared again, a hot scarlet flash of rage that was accompanied by a cold feeling that coursed through my veins. "You knew it would come for me, and didn't warn me?"
"It's not like that, Harry," Michael replied cautiously. "We weren't sure. But the prophecy made it seem likely."
"Prophecy?" Before Michael could reply, I waived him off. "Just the cliff notes version, please." I started walking back down the alley. The frost covering me had already started thawing after I released the power of the mantle, and as I moved, some pieces sloughed off onto the alley floor. "You can fill me in while you give me a ride home."
"What about the police?" Michael asked, looking toward the jeep that was embedded in a building at the corner. I thought I could already hear sirens coming, and quickened my pace.
"Good point," I replied. "Priorities first."
I thumbed one of the rings I wore while channeling some power into it and focused on my thoughts. Lacuna.
We were almost at the end of the alley before I received a reply. Yes my lord?
The spell laid into the ring was similar to one I'd used when I was younger. When Elaine Mallory and I had been studying under Justin DuMorne, we'd worked out a communication spell that allowed us to speak telepathically with one another. It required a special bond between those involved, so we couldn't speak to just anyone. Not that we'd had anyone else in our lives.
While I hadn't used the spell with Elaine in what seemed like a lifetime, I'd adapted it for use with my head of security. The ring bound our minds together, requiring nothing more than my will to send a message to her.
Contact Sía's people, I thought in the direction of the ring. Have them file a stolen vehicle report on the jeep. And tell them to have it backdated by one of the cops on their payroll.
Yes, my lord, the fairy's voice replied in my head. Are you in need of assistance?
No, I replied. I'm on my way home now.
Understood, Lacuna replied. It will be handled.
I smiled, knowing that it was as good as done. That was what made Lacuna ten times her weight in platinum. She didn't ask inane questions every time I gave her instructions; she just did what I needed, usually anticipating things I hadn't thought of myself.
Satisfied that the issue was resolved, I cut off the power to the ring as I walked past my jeep while heading toward Michael's truck. When he saw me leaving, he looked confused, but trailed after me.
When I reached his large contractor's truck, I opened the passenger door. Sanya was seated there, and I tossed a thumb to the back. "Come on, move."
The guy looked ready to argue the point, but the older man gave a subtle grunt, the kind Mr. Miyagi might have made to Daniel-san when he was about to lose his cool. Instead of pressing the issue, Sanya climbed out and moved into the back. Once he was out of the way, I climbed in the front, just as Michael settled in behind the wheel.
"We're waiting for the cops, right?" he asked.
"Home. Now," I repeated. "Explain on the way."
Michael frowned again, clearly not pleased with fleeing the scene of an accident. Sometimes his sense of civic duty was downright odd. I mean, he wouldn't think twice of leaving if the only damage had been to the dumpster and the fire escape.
Scratch that. Knowing Michael, he would have warned the building management that one of their emergency escape routes was impaired, and left a card for the waste company to contact him for reimbursement.
But despite his hang-ups with fleeing the scene of an accident, the man turned the engine over and pulled away, leaving my vehicle behind.
When he didn't volunteer anything in the first couple of minutes, I urged him on. "C'mon, Michael. Tell me what's going on."
My friend sighed again, something he seemed to be getting better at. The last time we'd spent any extended time together, he'd been a happily busy man. I couldn't recall ever seeing him looking as down as he did now.
But that had been before our attempted raid on Bianca's mansion. Before I'd failed so miserably, allowing a girl named Justine to die, killed by Susan Rodriguez as she became a Red Court vampire. Before I'd defeated the Nightmare by consuming its power, but failed to finish off Bianca when I had the chance.
When I'd consumed the Nightmare's power, I'd been desperate. I'd known I'd be facing a desperate battle to escape Bianca's mansion, and had taken it with every intention of using that power to destroy my enemies.
But when I'd been faced with the reality of the situation, that Susan was lost to me, and that continuing the fight would instigate a war, I'd backed down. And that dark, cruel power had remained inside of me.
Even with the Nightmare gone, enough of it had continued to exist to allow its dark workings to linger. It'd been enough to keep Murphy in a hellish coma for several more days, which I hadn't been able to help her with because I was already on the run from the Council.
Even worse, the power that the Nightmare had used on Charity lingered as well. And my friend had lost his newborn child.
I looked out the side window, pushing those thoughts away. There was no use dwelling in the past. I couldn't be sure I was responsible for the child's death. It was only guesswork, based on what Michael had told me much later. For all I knew, he was wrong, and the power of the Nightmare had nothing to do with it.
There was no reason to to blame myself.
While I walled up my guilt, Michael set about explaining what he and the other Knights knew.
"The Denarians are Fallen. Some of the worst in hell, trapped within the coins and allowed to try to seduce the free willed to take them up. To corrupt them, until they are broken, allowing the Fallen to do their work."
"Three swords to take on thirty Fallen? How is that even fair?" I asked, only to hold up a hand to stave off the reply. "Never-mind. If it's not something more than 'mysterious ways', I don't need to hear it." I took Michael's silence as confirmation that I was right. "So what is this work they're doing? And why are they in Chicago? Why are they going after me?"
"We don't know what they're doing," Michael replied. "In general, the Fallen seem to be set on corrupting souls and bringing about hell on Earth. But as to their specific plans, I cannot say."
"What about what you said in the alley?" I asked. "Something about a prophecy?"
A disapproving tut from the back seat informed me that the shorter one, Shiro, didn't think Michael should be sharing all of that. But my friend silenced the protest with a glance in the rear-view mirror, before looking my way. "All we know is that it mentioned you. That if you got involved with the Denarians, you'd die."
"Well that's an insightful prophecy," I replied sarcastically. I waived my arms in front of me, mimicking a headline. "Breaking news: a man attacked by thirty Fallen angels ends up dead."
"Not thirty," Michael repeated. "At most, I would guess there are four or five in town. Perhaps less."
"Well, that should be no problem," I replied with a roll of my eyes. "As long as they come at me one at a time, there shouldn't be an issue."
A gruff snort from the old man in the back drew my head around. The man met my frown with a passive gaze. "Ursiel is strong, but he is far from the most formidable."
I arched an eyebrow at him. "You saying I can't deal with whatever deformed Care-bear comes at me next?"
Shiro looked to the younger man in confusion, who shrugged, not getting the reference. While they tried to figure it out, Michael took up the case. "You were lucky with Ursiel, Harry. He could have torn you apart. Or worse."
"I think you're underestimating me, Michael," I replied. "That fight wasn't as close as it might have looked."
"From what I saw, you were barely staying ahead of him," Sanya replied from the back. "If Michael had not divided Ursiel's attention, he likely would have killed you on the next pass."
I turned to give the big Russian a flat look. "The only reason I didn't kill it after the first encounter was because I wanted to figure out what it was after first." I tossed a thumb in Michael's direction. "When he said he knew what was going on, questioning the thing was no longer necessary."
"So quick to kill," Shiro said softly.
"You're one to judge," I shot back. "How many of those things have you killed?"
"Some," the man replied with a humble bow of his head. "But none without first trying to save the soul within."
"It didn't seem like he wanted saving," I replied, turning back around.
The man didn't say anything, but I caught the slight movement of him shaking his head.
"Whatever," I said, turning back to Michael. "So a handful of assholes that sold their souls to demons are in town looking for me. Why?"
Michael once again hesitated. But while I was waiting for him to reply, I put it together myself. "The Shroud."
"Leave it alone, Harry," Michael said softly.
"Like hell," I replied. "You might have convinced me before all of that," I said, gesturing back toward the way we'd come. "But I'm not letting anyone come to my town and walk all over me."
"If you get involved, you'll die," Michael insisted.
"Let them try," I shot back, angered by his ongoing doubt in my ability to defend myself.
"The Fallen can do worse than kill you," Shiro said softly.
I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. "What's worse than dying?" I asked.
Michael gave me a long look. "They could offer you a coin."
I blinked at that, before laughing outright. "Thanks but no thanks. I've already made my deal with the devil."
"We can see that," Sanya said from behind me.
"Bite me, Boris."
"Just promise me, Harry," Michael urged as my townhouse came into view. "Promise me you'll stay out of it."
As he slowed to stop in front of my driveway, I turned to look at him. "Here's what I'll promise you, Michael. I promise to not let anyone kill me. I promise to not accept any offers of pocket change from strangers." I opened the door, and turned back once I was outside. "And I promise to kill anything that tries to do either."
For some reason that didn't seem to reassure my friend. "Not everything needs to be handled with such finality, Harry." His eyes rose to meet mine. "Not everyone who made a deal with a devil is beyond redemption."
His words gave me chills, which I promptly ignored.
"I spared a monster once before, Michael," I reminded him, my tone as cool as the winter air. "I spared Bianca when I could have ended her. And all I got for my efforts was pain and suffering. The loss of everything I had, of the life I knew." My look hardened. "I've learned my lessons well, Michael. Maybe it's time you did the same."
With that I slammed the door shut, and began the walk up the driveway, leaving my friend behind.
