The Fallen 03 - Warrior (21 page)

I tried to stay put, I really did. But as minutes ticked by like hours, I grew more and more restless, and I couldn’t resist stepping out into the street to
see if I could catch sight of him, first pulling the enveloping hood back over my head and tucking my betraying hands into the wide black sleeves. There were people around, watching me, couples strolling by the sluggish river nearby, a cadre of men in paramilitary uniforms approaching from a distance. I quickly ducked back into the shadows, but it was too late—they’d seen me.

I glanced behind me. Whatever door we’d come through had disappeared, leaving me trapped. I could do nothing but stand my ground and try to bluff. Truth Breakers, hadn’t Michael said that’s what we were? Did they have women Truth Breakers, or would I have to lower my voice and walk with a swagger? The man whose robe I was wearing had looked shockingly average, with his boxers and undershirt and burly chest.

The men were marching in matched step, and I wished I’d listened to Michael and stayed put. It was too late now. I drew myself up to my full height and waited. I could feel my arms, my hands, tingling, growing hot, and I wondered why. I was preparing for battle, not certain whether I could overpower half a dozen trained soldiers, no matter how confident I was in my skills. But my hands twitched and burned as I watched them.

“Truth Breaker,” the leader addressed me when they came to a stop in front of me. “May we assist you?”

Truth Breakers were scary dudes, generally silent
from what I’d observed. I bowed gracefully in greeting and then shook my head. A hand wave of dismissal would have been more effective, but my Technicolor flesh would betray me.

The leader wasn’t inclined to let it go that easily. “I can have my men escort Your Excellency back to Beloch. It’s not safe for you to be alone in the streets.”

“He’s not alone.” It was Michael, suddenly beside me like, well, an avenging angel. And the burning feeling vanished; my hands felt normal again. How very strange.

“You have no interest in him,” he continued in a voice that seemed to have built-in echoes.

“We have no interest in him,” the leader parroted. “Move on, men.”

“‘These are not the droids you’re looking for,’” I muttered, watching them go. I didn’t need to see Michael’s face to know he was greatly displeased with me. Our détente was over in record time.

“I told you to stay put.” His voice was little more than a growl.

“You do that a lot,” I said, trying to sound breezily unconcerned. “The definition of insanity is to repeat the same action over and over again and expect different results. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not particularly biddable.”

“You’re not particularly smart,” he shot back. “I didn’t go to all this trouble to get us out of there only to have you blunder back in.”

If my hood had been back, he would have seen my feral smile. Then again, it would have left him unmoved.

“And exactly why did you go to all that trouble? You still haven’t told me. I would have thought you were well rid of me.” The last time I’d asked that question, he’d kissed me rather than answer, effectively turning my brain to mush. I wanted him to kiss me again.

He hesitated, and for one brief moment I thought I was going to get a straight answer. “Orders,” he said after a moment, his voice flat. “I’m just following orders.”

I was suddenly deflated. It was reasonable. More likely than any other possibility. Why would he put his head in a noose without a damned good excuse?

But I didn’t believe him. Swathed in impenetrable black, his voice cool and clipped, he had another reason for coming after me, I just knew it.

Or maybe I’d seen too many movies. Scratch that—of course I’d seen too many movies. Michael was no romantic hero fighting a desperate attraction. He was a soldier, a general, a warrior, and he needed me for cannon fodder.

I shook off the depressing thought. “So did you have time to steal us the car before you came galloping to the rescue?”

“Of course. Keep your head down and for once in your life try to behave.”

“How do you know it’s once in my life? You’ve only known me—what is it? Three days?”

“It feels like a lifetime,” he said sourly. “Just please shut the fuck up.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

I followed him out into the gloomy half-light, in search of his stolen car.

M
ICHAEL WAS FURIOUS.
S
HE’D
deliberately disobeyed him, putting them both in danger by leaving her hiding place. He’d been a fool to come after her, he thought morosely as he led her toward the alleyway where he’d stashed the car. Even reticent Asbel had told him not to go. He’d ignored all the voices, ignored his own better judgment, and raced after her like a moonstruck loon.

He should be back in Sheol training his army. She was probably going to die anyway—what did it matter where or how? The date would stay the same.

But she would have died in agony after weeks of torture if he’d left her in this miserable place. Or maybe she would have managed to charm Beloch enough to be kept as a pet.

Second-guessing was a waste of time. He was bringing her back to Sheol and he was going to find
the son of a bitch who’d taken her. Who’d betrayed them. The upcoming battle was uneven enough without a traitor in their midst.

She climbed into the old car without a word, her cowled head surveying the vintage interior.

“No seat belts,” she observed.

“No one dies here, except at the hands of the Nightmen and the Truth Breakers. Or Beloch.”

“The Nightmen. Is that who those men were?”

“Yes.” He put the car in gear and slowly drove forward out of the narrow alley. He knew the layout of the Dark City—it was engraved in his brain. It was an advantage he had over any of Beloch’s men, and it was that knowledge that would keep them safe.

“When can I take off this damned hood?” Her voice was muffled.

“Not until we’re well away from here. We look different, remember? If you’re suffocating you can slide down out of sight and pull it off, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why are we different? Are they all really this color, or is something messing with our perceptions?”

“They’re dead.”

That shut her up—for all of thirty seconds. “And this is hell?”

“No, Victoria Bellona. This is heaven.”

I
F HE WASN’T
going to give me a straight answer, then I wasn’t going to bother asking any more questions. I knew what heaven was like. It was a beautiful
place with clouds and happy smiling people and angels. . . .

Well, they got the angel part wrong. Unless there were still traditional heavenly angels who wore the white robes and golden halos and spent their time playing harps instead of training for war.

I glanced over at my hooded companion. His wings seemed to be invisible unless he was flying. Though there had been that almost mystical moment when I’d felt the unbelievable softness of feathers wrapped around us in his narrow bed.

Did a golden halo appear at the same time, and I’d just been too busy to notice?

“What?” he demanded suddenly. We were driving slowly and cautiously down narrow lanes, the gray houses crowding close around us.

“Where’s your halo?”

His response was a string of words no self-respecting angel should use. “What were you expecting, a gold ring balanced over my head like the sword of Damocles?”

“Did you know Damocles?” I asked, momentarily diverted.

“No.”

“Are you old enough to have known Damocles?”

“I was already old when Damocles was a child,” he snapped. “Just how gullible are you?”

“Pretty damned gullible. I believe in fallen angels and vampires and men who can fly and places without color and, apparently, heaven.”

He seemed to be grinding his teeth. I was tempted to point out that that wasn’t good for them, but then figured if he was immortal, so were his teeth. Convenient. I didn’t think there were any dentists in Sheol.

“Can you die?” The thought was suddenly devastating. “Beloch wanted to destroy you. Can he actually kill you?”

He shoved the hood back, turning to look at me. The houses were thinning out now, what looked like a forest of great trees visible in the distance.

“It’s damned hard to kill an angel. Only another immortal can do it.”

”But I’m not immortal, am I?”

“No.”

“Then what good is it, being a god?” I demanded, really annoyed. “If you’re telling me I put up with that awful childhood only to get stuck in a new sort of prison, and I have no magic powers as far as I can see, and I’m not even immortal, then that just sucks dead toads.”

“Sucks dead toads?” he echoed, faintly horrified.

“Big-time. So if you know for sure that I’m not immortal, do you happen to know when I’m supposed to die?”

Silence. Of course. His short period of talkativeness was over.

“All right, if you won’t tell me that, at least tell me where we’re going.” I glanced in the tiny rearview mirror as the sepia city faded behind us.
“Apparently we’re leaving the Dark City. Where are we going?”

“The Darkness.”

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. “Tell you what,” I said, trying to keep my voice cheerful. “Let’s get out of the car, you pick me up, and we’ll just fly out of here. Easy peasy, no harm, no foul.”

“I can’t.”

“If you give me one more monosyllabic answer, I’m going to scream.”

“That’s not monosyllabic. Two syllables: I. Can’t. Stop complaining. I just don’t talk a lot.”

“Make an effort,” I ground out.

He glanced at me out of his midnight-dark eyes. “Beloch has placed an impenetrable net over the Dark City. No one can fly in or out. I was lucky enough to get here just before he put it in place.”

“I don’t think luck had anything to do with it. I think he waited until he captured you. He’s far more interested in you than he is in me.”

“Indeed. Two syllables,” he added.

“And how do we get out?”

“I told you. The Darkness surrounds the Dark City. If we can find our way in there and survive long enough, then we should be able to fly out, assuming I can find the place where the veil is thin.”

“Why doesn’t that sound like a very encouraging plan?”

“It’s not. You may not even survive the transition
into the Darkness. Once there, leaving might prove difficult.”

“So what is the Darkness? If the Dark City is heaven, then the Darkness is hell?”

“Not exactly. The Darkness is chaos. Most of the Fallen have survived the Dark City. No one survives the Darkness.”

“So you’re taking me to certain death? Gee, thanks.”

He glanced over at me. “No one has survived the Darkness but me, and I have every intention of keeping you safe.”

I considered this. “Why are you the only one to survive?”

He didn’t answer. Of course. I persevered. “What happens to us if we die?”

He looked at me incredulously. “If we die, we die.”

“I mean, what happens to the battle with the Armies of Heaven? The one you brought me for.”

“Without me to lead them, they’ll be defeated,” he said flatly.

“Then why the hell did you endanger yourself and the future of the Fallen by coming after me?”

“Is there a chance in hell you’ll stop asking that question?”

“Is there a chance in hell you’ll answer it?” I shot back.

He slammed on the brakes and I went hurtling toward the windshield. His long arm shot out and
caught me a moment before I went face-first into the glass. “No seat belts, remember?” he said.

It took a moment for me to catch my breath. “Well?” I said, still pushing.

“We’ll go through the Portal into the Darkness,” he said finally, “and find a place to recover. I’ll tell you then.”

“Recover?” I said, not liking the sound of that.

“If we survive,” he added, just to make things even more cheerful.

For once I was lost for words. We couldn’t stay here—there was no escape from this world within the Dark City, and no fallen angels would be getting in and out. Even if we managed to avoid Beloch, the Truth Breakers, and the Nightmen, just how long could we survive on the road?

I felt sick, dizzy, disoriented, and belatedly I remembered food. I’d always had a healthy appreciation for food, and I worked hard enough that I could eat what I wanted without having to worry about it showing up on my hips.

“I need to eat,” I said.

“You won’t starve.”

“I haven’t eaten anything since I left Sheol, and I don’t remember when I ate there. I’m so hungry I feel like I’m going to pass out, and if you don’t feed me soon I’m not going to be any good to anybody.” I waited for him to take the cheap shot, to say I was already of no use, but he resisted it nobly.

“Didn’t Beloch feed you? He gave you that strumpet
dress—clearly he was priming you for something.”