Eve of Chaos
Page 46“I’ve never failed you, and that was while I had no gifts beyond those of an average Mark.”
“What are you saying? Have you decided that the life of an archangel is not to your liking?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet. But my goal was to head a firm, not acquire more gifts. Without the one, I have no need for the other.”
“I have need of it, and I will not give it up simply because you miss your Evangeline.”
“She isn’t gone.” Alec’s fingers curled around the red-painted ironwork. Despite the chilly temperature and the soothing necklace, his skin was growing as hot as his rising temper. “If I can get my shit together, her and I will be okay.”
“You have come to the wrong place to ask for sympathy.” The seraph’s tone lacked all inflection. “She weakens you, and Abel. She is a mediocre Mark, barely sufficient in the practical applications, and prone to blasphemy and irreverence. You are a fool if you think I will sacrifice you—the greatest killing machine ever created—for her.”
Alec’s grip tightened to the point of pain.
I won’t invest in a relationship with someone who can’t love me, she’d said, and he knew it was true.
Which made Abel a greater threat now than ever before. He’d become the go-to guy when she couldn’t turn to Alec.
Sabrael levitated until his feet were once again level with the top of the tower. “You will remain an archangel until I decide you are no longer useful in that capacity. I find that possibility very slim indeed.”
The seraph left.
Alec lingered, hoping that time would present the solution he searched for.
***
Once Sydney and Montevista were settled for the night—Sydney in the guest room and Montevista on the couch in the living room—Eve had Ishamel shift with her to the subterranean floors of the tower. Together they knocked on Hank’s door.
“It’s late,” Eve said. “Are you sure he’s still here?”
“He lives here.” Ishamel set a hand at the small of her back and urged her through the opening door.
“Welcome back,” Hank said, appearing out of the darkness. “You’ve had an interesting afternoon since you left me.”
“You could call it that’ she agreed dryly.
He must have noted Eve’s velour jogging suit and Ishamel’s casual state, because he changed from dress slacks and shirt to a black sweat suit that reminded Eve of Riesgo’s, although the priest was considerably more muscular.
“Let’s sit?’ Hank led the way to the now-familiar rough-hewn table. Immediately afterward, Fred approached in a tight patent leather and metal bodysuit. Her face was heavily made-up and her long white hair was teased big. She set a tray down bearing a pitcher of Hank’s favored iced tea and three glasses, then sashayed away, revealing a horsetail-thing swaying from the rear of her outfit.
Eve stared. Ishamel looked away.
“Hot damn, Fred,” Eve called after her.
Hank gave an elegant shrug. “Note that the tengu is quiet. Seems he’s become enamored with Fred. The dominatrix guise keeps him distracted.”
Since Eve herself had been rendered speechless for a moment, she could see how well the getup worked. She returned her attention to Hank. “Do you have something or some way to keep Infernals from disintegrating when killed?”
One red brow rose. “Why?”
“I need a body.”
“The masking agent seems to preserve bodies.”
“It also restores them.” She shook her head. “I don’t need any more recurring kills. I want the vanquished to stay dead, but I need some remains. At least until cremation.”
“Hmn. The necklace might do the trick.”
Eve sat back. “You think?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Okay, next question. What happens to mortals who see things they shouldn’t?”
Hank’s fingertips rubbed back and forth along a deep groove in the table. “Depends on how credible the witness is and what proof they have, if any. It’s impossible to say until it happens. You’ll have to take your chances.”
Ishamel picked up a glass and swallowed tea in great big gulps. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and asked, “It just so happens that I might have a use for a Nix attractant. You wouldn’t happen to have one, would you?”
“Why, yes.” Hank smiled wide. “I have one. Glad you can use it, since our firm leader ordered me not to give it to Evangeline.”
Fred reappeared with a lovely green glass atomizer bottle, which she set down in front of Ishamel. Eve studied the lili while she was close, looking beneath the cosmetics to the delicate features beneath. Eve wondered how closely Fred resembled her mother. She was a very pretty girl, with a delicate deportment that effectively hid the nature of the beast within.
“Thank you,” Ishamel said.
“What troubles you?” Hank asked.
“Would Lilith have a reason for wanting to get her hands on Abel?”
Ishamel stared hard at her. “You assume she is interested in him. Why not assume her motivation is the resulting gain? I see him as a means to an end.”
“Perhaps it’s you she wants,” Hank suggested, catching up on the conversation by reading Eve’s thoughts. “Perhaps she views you as a surrogate Eve, beloved wife of Adam. She hates both of them with a passion.”
“Let’s skip that avenue for now’ Eve said. “It’s a dead end. Lilith would either kill me or torture me. Either way, end of story. But if she had Abel, what would she do with him? Keep him or trade him, right? If she kept him, why? And if she traded him, what would she trade him for? What does Satan have that she might want?”
Ishamel laughed, a rusty unused sound. “Lilith wants everything. And she’s had pretty much everything in Hell in her bed at some point or another. The earth is a playground to her.”
Eve looked at Hank, who tossed up his hands in a clueless gesture. “Ishamel’s right. Lilith wants everything.”
“My mother.” Fred said, lingering at the edge of the circle of light that hung over the table, “is motivated by boredom. She does things for odd reasons and oftentimes for no reason at all. I gave up trying to figure her out.”
“All right.” Eve stood and yawned. “Thank you both for your help.”
Ishamel stood along with her. Hank remained seated.
“You’re determined to jump the gun and set this off tomorrow?” the occultist asked.
“I’m just setting the stage.” Her smile was grim. “Whether the show starts or not.. . We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Don’t get yourself killed. I want to see you again”
Eve gave him a mock salute.
“Good luck”, Fred said.
“Thanks. We’re going to need it.”
CHAPTER 20
It was a little past seven in the morning when Eve left her bedroom and moved down the hallway to the living room. She checked on Montevista, usually the first one awake while on watch, but presently the last one still sleeping. Sydney sat at the kitchen island in a pale blue bathrobe and red slippers reading the newspaper report of the Lamborghini wreck.
“Sure.” The Mark smiled. “I love how normal you are.”
Eve snorted. “This is normal? Shoot me now.”
Sydney abandoned the newspaper. “When I was first marked, I didn’t know how to take it. It seemed like such a huge responsibility to be a warrior for God. And everything was so different. I used to love coffee. I drank it all day. But I gave it up, thinking there was no point anymore since I couldn’t feel the buzz from the caffeine. Because I changed so many things about my life, I felt like a stranger in my own skin for a long time.”
Knowing that feeling all too well, Eve nodded.
“Look on the bright side, that dedication makes you a much better Mark than I am. I want to be you when I grow up.”
Sydney slid off the stool and moved to the cupboard. She grabbed three mugs. “I’m hoping to be more like you.”
“Bad with a sword and accident prone?”
“Shut up. Killing things is just part of the job, not all of it. I actually think your agnosticism gives you an advantage. You don’t take anything at face value, so you see things the rest of us don’t. Since I met you, I’ve been trying to reconnect with the things that used to define me. I bought bookshelves last weekend and an outrageously expensive coffee station the week before that. Sounds like nothing, I know—”
“No, I get it. You’re building a future instead of living day to day. And you’re letting yourself have fun with your life. Good for you.”
“Thanks.” Sydney set the mugs on the counter. “I’m much happier now that you’ve rubbed off on me.”
Eve bumped shoulders with her. “Here’s to hoping some of your kick-ass qualities rub off on me.”
There was a beat of silence as Eve poured the beans into the grinder, then Sydney whispered, “I guess the new me is more attractive, too. I’ve been working with Diego a long time and he’s never paid any attention to me as a woman. In fact, he once said I wasn’t his type.”
“I’d say that’s changed.”
“You noticed it, too?” Sydney’s eyes had a sparkle that warmed Eve’s heart. She liked both Marks, and wanted them to be happy.
“Totally. He’s got it bad.” Eve decided it was as good a time as any to broach a sensitive topic. “Hey, do me a favor. Keep an especially close eye on him. I think he’s too proud to admit that he’s not up to full speed yet.”
“Already on it.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">