Black Night
Page 11
I slumped back against the headboard, exhausted from the effort of sitting up and taking stock of my injuries. “Is it that bad?”
He rubbed his eyes. “You’ve looked better. Like when you’ve come to work without showering and still wearing your house slippers.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are the soul of tact, J.B. No wonder all the women want you. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Your gratitude is overwhelming, Black. I arrived with the Medi-Team and brought you home when they were done repairing you.”
“This is repaired?” I said.
“Well, they can’t do that magical healing thing that your guard dog can, but they patched you up as best they could. Where is your shadow, anyway?” J.B. asked.
I felt a pang in my chest when I thought of Gabriel. “He’s gone.”
“Gone, how?”
I explained about the body we’d found in the alley, and how Gabriel had disappeared without a trace a few moments before I’d been attacked.
“Do you think his disappearance had something to do with your attack?” J.B. asked.
“I suppose it could,” I said slowly. “But it could also have something to do with the wolves. Or with Antares, for that matter.”
And when I thought about it, Antares seemed a likely suspect. He had a whole host of magical tricks up his sleeve, and disappearing acts were a favorite of his.
“Are you saying that Antares is working with Samiel?” J.B. asked. “Isn’t it enough that you’ve got enemies coming out of every nook and cranny? Do they have to be conspiring against you as well?”
“I didn’t say they were conspiring. Antares may have taken Gabriel as part of some nefarious plot of his own and Samiel just happened to show up a few minutes later.”
“I don’t know,” J.B. said doubtfully. “Coincidence sounds even more unlikely than conspiracy.”
“Well, you figure it out, then. I’m feeling a little worn-out right now.”
“No need to get cranky with me, Black.”
“Oh, gee, why would I feel cranky, Bennett? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I nearly got beaten to death a few hours ago, would it?”
J.B. sobered. “Yes, but why?”
“Why did I get beaten up? Because I killed Samiel’s father, that’s why.”
“No, why did he beat you? Why didn’t he use magic?”
Once J.B. said it, I realized that it was completely bizarre that Samiel had used such a mortal method of exacting vengeance. Ramuell had possessed magical abilities that had been terrifying in their execution, and Ariell had been an angelic being loaded with magic. Why had Samiel used his fists instead of his powers?
“Maybe he’s powerless, like Antares,” I said, although this seemed improbable. Completely powerless beings like my half brother were rare, especially when they came from such a notable magical lineage. Ramuell was Lucifer’s son, after all. It seemed unlikely that Samiel would have no magic.
J.B. shook his head. “It would definitely stretch credibility to think that not only are two of your enemies conspiring against you, but both of them have no magic of their own.”
“I’m not sure you are actually helping here,” I said crossly.
He held his hands up. “I’m just saying.”
“And I’m just saying that you’re not adding anything very much useful to the conversation.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something else, then paused and sighed. The moonlight reflected off the silver frames of his glasses. “No matter how hard I try, we always revert to our old patterns.”
That made me pause as well. “You’re right. I don’t know why we always end up bickering like this.”
“Because you have unfulfilled sexual tension?” said Beezle, flapping into the room and landing on my lap. He put his hands on his hips—or what stood in for hips, anyway. It was hard to tell that he had h*ps anymore since his belly had started expanding.
“Hmm,” he said, eyeing my face critically. “It looks like you’ll probably regain use of your jaw sometime by Christmas.”
“I’m so glad that everyone is being positive and supportive in my time of need,” I said, glaring at my gargoyle.
“Hey, we aim to please,” Beezle said. “Now, what are we going to do about Gabriel?”
I shifted my hands restlessly on my lap. “I don’t know. I don’t even have a clue where to begin.”
“Well, if you are interested in my two cents . . .”
“Which usually turns into two dollars,” I said.
Beezle pressed his lips together briefly in annoyance and then continued on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I think you should start with the wolves. They were there on the scene and they had the motivation to take him.”
“What motivation would the wolves have? Their alpha had just stated that Maddy was a friend to them and vice versa. If they were truly interested in reestablishing relations with Lucifer, then why would they jeopardize that by taking Gabriel?” J.B. said reasonably.
“That’s assuming the wolves actually do want to treat with Lucifer, which I doubt,” Beezle said darkly. “Wolves generally keep a minimum of contact with the fallen.”
“Why are you always so suspicious of everyone’s motivations?” I said. “Maybe the wolves want to make peace and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.”
“ ‘Take advantage’ is the operative phrase here,” Beezle said. “You have to stop trusting everything you hear or the fallen will eat you alive.”
“And so will the faeries,” J.B. said. “Believe me, there’s nothing my mother loves more than turning naïveté to her advantage.”
I felt myself getting annoyed. Sure, I needed some help with interpersonal relationships, and I was astonishingly sheltered for a woman nearing her thirty-third birthday, but I wasn’t dumb. I didn’t appreciate being treated as such.
“I think I can handle myself,” I said.
They both said nothing but pointedly stared at my face, the very visible site of most of my injuries.
“What, you think that just because Samiel train-wrecked me that I can’t maneuver among the intricacies of the courts?”
Their silence told me everything I needed to know about their opinion. I took a deep breath and told myself it would not be good to kill them.
“Let’s not talk about me,” I said, pinning a bright smile on my face, and then I winced. It hurt to smile, or to do anything more strenuous than talk through my teeth. “Let’s try to figure out what happened to Gabriel.”
“Why don’t you just tell Azazel? He probably has the resources to find him,” J.B. said reasonably.
I shook my head. “He might have the resources to find Gabriel, but when he found him Azazel would kill him.”
J.B. looked astonished. “For being kidnapped?”
“He failed in his duty to protect me, and his life already hangs by a thread,” I said grimly. “If Azazel finds out that Gabriel is gone, then that thread will be cut. We have to make sure that my father doesn’t know about this.”
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of problems that had presented themselves in the last day. First I’d been assigned this crap job in the faerie court and Nathaniel was supposed to accompany me. Then Antares and Samiel showed up with the sole goal of grinding me into small pieces. I’d totally stepped in the middle of some long-standing problem between Lucifer and the wolves, and Gabriel had disappeared. And it was imperative, absolutely imperative, that Azazel not find out about that. I didn’t know if I could live with myself if anything happened to Gabriel because of me.
“How are you going to make sure Azazel doesn’t find out?” Beezle said. “The kidnappers may have contacted him already to ransom Gabriel. And even if they haven’t, Azazel is in almost daily contact with him, checking up on you.”
“How do you know that?” I said.
“I have ears,” Beezle said. “He does live downstairs, you know, and sometimes his windows are open.”
It annoyed me that Azazel was following my life that closely and that Gabriel hadn’t said anything to me about it. But that was to be expected. I’d told myself time and again that Gabriel’s first loyalty was to my father, not to me.
I had to stop thinking of Gabriel as a potential lover—a thing that was likely never going to happen—and instead as a potential enemy. Maybe J.B. and Beezle were right. Maybe I was naïve. I had to let go of these girlish dreams and focus on what was really happening around me.
And right now, Gabriel’s loyalty was not the issue. His life was. I had to find him before I could worry about anything else.
“And what are you going to do when it’s time to go to the faerie court?” J.B. asked. “Wasn’t Gabriel supposed to accompany you? How are you going to find him in two days without Azazel finding out, and in your condition?”
J.B. was right. Even without a clue to go on, I was hampered by my injuries. I needed some angelic healing, and there was only one place that I could get it. But it was risky—extremely risky. If there was anybody’s loyalty in doubt, it was his. But maybe I could make it work. Maybe we could broker a deal that would make both of us happy.
“I think,” I said, breathing deep and hoping that I wasn’t making yet another horrible mistake, “that I need to give my fiancé a call.”
“This is incredibly stupid,” Beezle said the next morning as he primped the pillows around my head on the couch. J.B. had left after breakfast, promising to call later and check up on me. He’d also arranged to find substitutes for all of my pickups for the week, which definitely made my life easier. I had enough things on my plate without worrying about lost souls.
“Your opinion has been duly noted,” I said dryly. “About eight hundred times over.”
He rubbed his eyes. “You’ve looked better. Like when you’ve come to work without showering and still wearing your house slippers.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are the soul of tact, J.B. No wonder all the women want you. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Your gratitude is overwhelming, Black. I arrived with the Medi-Team and brought you home when they were done repairing you.”
“This is repaired?” I said.
“Well, they can’t do that magical healing thing that your guard dog can, but they patched you up as best they could. Where is your shadow, anyway?” J.B. asked.
I felt a pang in my chest when I thought of Gabriel. “He’s gone.”
“Gone, how?”
I explained about the body we’d found in the alley, and how Gabriel had disappeared without a trace a few moments before I’d been attacked.
“Do you think his disappearance had something to do with your attack?” J.B. asked.
“I suppose it could,” I said slowly. “But it could also have something to do with the wolves. Or with Antares, for that matter.”
And when I thought about it, Antares seemed a likely suspect. He had a whole host of magical tricks up his sleeve, and disappearing acts were a favorite of his.
“Are you saying that Antares is working with Samiel?” J.B. asked. “Isn’t it enough that you’ve got enemies coming out of every nook and cranny? Do they have to be conspiring against you as well?”
“I didn’t say they were conspiring. Antares may have taken Gabriel as part of some nefarious plot of his own and Samiel just happened to show up a few minutes later.”
“I don’t know,” J.B. said doubtfully. “Coincidence sounds even more unlikely than conspiracy.”
“Well, you figure it out, then. I’m feeling a little worn-out right now.”
“No need to get cranky with me, Black.”
“Oh, gee, why would I feel cranky, Bennett? It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I nearly got beaten to death a few hours ago, would it?”
J.B. sobered. “Yes, but why?”
“Why did I get beaten up? Because I killed Samiel’s father, that’s why.”
“No, why did he beat you? Why didn’t he use magic?”
Once J.B. said it, I realized that it was completely bizarre that Samiel had used such a mortal method of exacting vengeance. Ramuell had possessed magical abilities that had been terrifying in their execution, and Ariell had been an angelic being loaded with magic. Why had Samiel used his fists instead of his powers?
“Maybe he’s powerless, like Antares,” I said, although this seemed improbable. Completely powerless beings like my half brother were rare, especially when they came from such a notable magical lineage. Ramuell was Lucifer’s son, after all. It seemed unlikely that Samiel would have no magic.
J.B. shook his head. “It would definitely stretch credibility to think that not only are two of your enemies conspiring against you, but both of them have no magic of their own.”
“I’m not sure you are actually helping here,” I said crossly.
He held his hands up. “I’m just saying.”
“And I’m just saying that you’re not adding anything very much useful to the conversation.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something else, then paused and sighed. The moonlight reflected off the silver frames of his glasses. “No matter how hard I try, we always revert to our old patterns.”
That made me pause as well. “You’re right. I don’t know why we always end up bickering like this.”
“Because you have unfulfilled sexual tension?” said Beezle, flapping into the room and landing on my lap. He put his hands on his hips—or what stood in for hips, anyway. It was hard to tell that he had h*ps anymore since his belly had started expanding.
“Hmm,” he said, eyeing my face critically. “It looks like you’ll probably regain use of your jaw sometime by Christmas.”
“I’m so glad that everyone is being positive and supportive in my time of need,” I said, glaring at my gargoyle.
“Hey, we aim to please,” Beezle said. “Now, what are we going to do about Gabriel?”
I shifted my hands restlessly on my lap. “I don’t know. I don’t even have a clue where to begin.”
“Well, if you are interested in my two cents . . .”
“Which usually turns into two dollars,” I said.
Beezle pressed his lips together briefly in annoyance and then continued on as if I hadn’t spoken. “I think you should start with the wolves. They were there on the scene and they had the motivation to take him.”
“What motivation would the wolves have? Their alpha had just stated that Maddy was a friend to them and vice versa. If they were truly interested in reestablishing relations with Lucifer, then why would they jeopardize that by taking Gabriel?” J.B. said reasonably.
“That’s assuming the wolves actually do want to treat with Lucifer, which I doubt,” Beezle said darkly. “Wolves generally keep a minimum of contact with the fallen.”
“Why are you always so suspicious of everyone’s motivations?” I said. “Maybe the wolves want to make peace and decided to take advantage of the opportunity.”
“ ‘Take advantage’ is the operative phrase here,” Beezle said. “You have to stop trusting everything you hear or the fallen will eat you alive.”
“And so will the faeries,” J.B. said. “Believe me, there’s nothing my mother loves more than turning naïveté to her advantage.”
I felt myself getting annoyed. Sure, I needed some help with interpersonal relationships, and I was astonishingly sheltered for a woman nearing her thirty-third birthday, but I wasn’t dumb. I didn’t appreciate being treated as such.
“I think I can handle myself,” I said.
They both said nothing but pointedly stared at my face, the very visible site of most of my injuries.
“What, you think that just because Samiel train-wrecked me that I can’t maneuver among the intricacies of the courts?”
Their silence told me everything I needed to know about their opinion. I took a deep breath and told myself it would not be good to kill them.
“Let’s not talk about me,” I said, pinning a bright smile on my face, and then I winced. It hurt to smile, or to do anything more strenuous than talk through my teeth. “Let’s try to figure out what happened to Gabriel.”
“Why don’t you just tell Azazel? He probably has the resources to find him,” J.B. said reasonably.
I shook my head. “He might have the resources to find Gabriel, but when he found him Azazel would kill him.”
J.B. looked astonished. “For being kidnapped?”
“He failed in his duty to protect me, and his life already hangs by a thread,” I said grimly. “If Azazel finds out that Gabriel is gone, then that thread will be cut. We have to make sure that my father doesn’t know about this.”
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the amount of problems that had presented themselves in the last day. First I’d been assigned this crap job in the faerie court and Nathaniel was supposed to accompany me. Then Antares and Samiel showed up with the sole goal of grinding me into small pieces. I’d totally stepped in the middle of some long-standing problem between Lucifer and the wolves, and Gabriel had disappeared. And it was imperative, absolutely imperative, that Azazel not find out about that. I didn’t know if I could live with myself if anything happened to Gabriel because of me.
“How are you going to make sure Azazel doesn’t find out?” Beezle said. “The kidnappers may have contacted him already to ransom Gabriel. And even if they haven’t, Azazel is in almost daily contact with him, checking up on you.”
“How do you know that?” I said.
“I have ears,” Beezle said. “He does live downstairs, you know, and sometimes his windows are open.”
It annoyed me that Azazel was following my life that closely and that Gabriel hadn’t said anything to me about it. But that was to be expected. I’d told myself time and again that Gabriel’s first loyalty was to my father, not to me.
I had to stop thinking of Gabriel as a potential lover—a thing that was likely never going to happen—and instead as a potential enemy. Maybe J.B. and Beezle were right. Maybe I was naïve. I had to let go of these girlish dreams and focus on what was really happening around me.
And right now, Gabriel’s loyalty was not the issue. His life was. I had to find him before I could worry about anything else.
“And what are you going to do when it’s time to go to the faerie court?” J.B. asked. “Wasn’t Gabriel supposed to accompany you? How are you going to find him in two days without Azazel finding out, and in your condition?”
J.B. was right. Even without a clue to go on, I was hampered by my injuries. I needed some angelic healing, and there was only one place that I could get it. But it was risky—extremely risky. If there was anybody’s loyalty in doubt, it was his. But maybe I could make it work. Maybe we could broker a deal that would make both of us happy.
“I think,” I said, breathing deep and hoping that I wasn’t making yet another horrible mistake, “that I need to give my fiancé a call.”
“This is incredibly stupid,” Beezle said the next morning as he primped the pillows around my head on the couch. J.B. had left after breakfast, promising to call later and check up on me. He’d also arranged to find substitutes for all of my pickups for the week, which definitely made my life easier. I had enough things on my plate without worrying about lost souls.
“Your opinion has been duly noted,” I said dryly. “About eight hundred times over.”
