“No.” She shook her head with a smile. “Because we are His chosen children. That’s why The Host hates humanity, you know. They’re jealous. They want to be more like us.”

  “Frail, fragile, mortal?”

  “Free.” I didn’t respond, so she went on. “We have free will, Harker. That’s is His greatest gift to us, and our greatest burden. But it gives us everything. It makes us unpredictable, and a little crazy, and more powerful than even Lucifer himself. So yes, we can do this. We will do this. Now let’s go. We’ve got a party to crash.”

  Pravesh turned to go back into the storeroom and out through the back door, but as she spun, a hip caught the corner of the counter, and a medallion fell off a rack by the cash register. I picked it up and looked at it. A little silver medallion, like you see everywhere, except it felt a little out of place to have a rack of saints’ medallions in a magic shop.

  “Whose is it?” Pravesh asked, looking to my hand.

  It was a silver medallion depicting a man with a club or staff in one hand and a corona of light around his head. I chuckled, and moved to put it back on the rack, then paused. “It’s St. Jude.”

  “The patron saint of lost causes.”

  “I thought you said you were Jewish?”

  “I’m Jewish, I’m not uneducated. You should keep it. Maybe someone here wants you to have it.” This time when she turned to leave, she made it through the doorway without incident.

  I looked around the shop, wiped my eyes and cheeks, and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. I can take a hint.” I put the necklace around my neck and went off to chase my lost cause.

  11

  And crash we did, in spectacular fashion. Admittedly, the party was pretty spectacular even before we got there, with magicians throwing around illusions like sparklers at a kid’s birthday party. The house was more of an estate, with a long circular driveway pulling up in front of a huge three-story main house. Magic flowed down the marble steps on the front of the house like a waterfall in jewel tones, pooling around our ankles as we made our way to the front doors, glamoured to look like the front doors of Hogwarts. The grand foyer was exactly that, grand. Chandeliers floated around the room, from barely above head height to twenty feet in the air, casting flickering shadows in brilliant color into every corner.

  “This guy isn’t into subtle, is he?” I said, looking around. The entire place was a mishmash of fantasy novels, science fiction movies, and magical tomes brought to life. A faun straight out of a Narnia book carried a tray of drinks, and I took a flute of glowing blue champagne with a nod. At least it tasted like champagne. Good stuff, too.

  “Subtle is not a word that has ever been associated with Wyatt,” Scolari said, the disdain dripping off his words like venom. He had that look of moral and intellectual superiority on his face that old money always trots out whenever they deal with someone they think is beneath them somehow. It wasn’t a good look, but I expected it to come out at some point.

  “Yeah, well, we can’t all be old-money vampires,” I said, fully aware that I was at least tangentially related to the oldest-money vampire in the world. Scolari shot me a look but didn’t say anything more. I needed him, but I didn’t have to like him. He was snotty, and condescending, and I wanted to punch him, just a little. Well, I really wanted to punch him, but I didn’t want to punch him too much.

  We walked farther into the house, me, Lena, and Pravesh with our heads on a swivel trying to catch all the razzle-dazzle flying around. As we stepped through into the great hall, which was bigger than some ballrooms I’ve been in, I was rendered speechless by the enormity of the illusion in front of me. The entire roof of the room, which was bigger than a basketball court, had been enchanted to appear like the night sky. But not the night sky as it actually appears over San Francisco, which would have been a large but relatively simple working. No, this was a mystical tapestry of shooting stars, constellations whizzing by, aurora borealis ringing the horizons, and a few very familiar spacecraft making a lazy trek across the sky.

  “Is that the Millennium Falcon?” I asked, pointing up. I couldn’t help staring and pointing. I felt like a kid on his first trip to Disneyland. Or at least what I felt like a kid would feel like at Disneyland. I was nearly ninety the first time I visited the house that Mickey built.

  “Hunnicutt is a huge Star Wars fan. Don’t get him going about Jar-Jar Binks,” Darius warned. “You’ll think George Lucas invented a time machine just so he could go back and shit all over little Wyatt’s seven-year-old head.”

  Down on the ground, the illusions were at least as amazing, if not as grand in scope. All the catering staff were glamoured to look like mystical creatures, from unicorns and fauns, to an ogre that was realistic enough to have me reaching for my gun, to a very disturbing little man in a red flat cap walking around with a tray of canapés and a chilling smile. I passed on the taking a baby quiche from the murderous redcap and kept my fingers close to the grip of my gun.

  The action in the room centered around a huge sculpture seemingly made of spun gold, platinum, and harnessed light. It was a huge tree, reaching from deep within the floor all the way up to the vaulted ceiling, with branches spindling up and out some dozen yards in all directions.

  “That’s—” Scolari began, but Pravesh cut him off.

  “Yggdrasil,” she said, a tone of pure wonder in her voice. “The world tree of Norse myth. I’ve never seen a more beautiful representation of it. It’s truly astonishing, and beautiful.”

  “You know your Norse,” I said, seeing another layer of the Homeland Security agent. If she wasn’t careful, I was going to stop hating her on principle and actually think of her as a human being. Dangerous thing to do with a government agent.

  “I spent some time in Norse Studies at UW,” she said, not taking her eyes off the sculpture. “This is remarkable. I can almost feel the other realms pressing against the barriers here, as if the tree is an actual conduit between dimensions.”

  I opened my Sight, and what I saw was, in addition to being almost overwhelming in the sheer amount of magical energy around me, was a little terrifying. Pravesh was pretty much spot on. The tree, or image of a tree, was actually woven into the barrier between dimensions, and everything was a little closer to our world here. It wasn’t exactly Yggdrasil, but it wasn’t exactly not, either. It was some kind of manifestation of the world tree bound to this spot by a fuckton of magic. I could feel the distant touch of the Divine, and sense the malevolent attention of Hell, among other dimensions. There was enough extra-dimensional magic seeping through along the seams to feed the magic of the tree, and keep it firmly anchored in our world. But if anything ever happened to that tree, we were going to have big problems. Like, world-ending, dimension-shattering problems.

  I dropped my Sight and looked at Scolari and Darius. “Does this Hunnicutt guy know what he’s doing? Because there is a flaming fuckton of energy harnessed in that tree, and if it ever went down…”

  “Then the entirety of San Francisco would be nothing but a much larger bay?” Scolari said.

  “Yeah, he knows. All of us know,” Darius agreed. “It’s part of our job. To protect Yggdrasil, and to make sure that it’s fed with enough magical energy from this side to keep the boundary intact.”

  A lightbulb went off for me. “That’s why he throws the parties. He uses a shitload of magic on the quarter-year holidays, and when the party’s over, he funnels it into the tree to reinforce it. Like mystical fertilizer.”

  Darius nodded. “Yeah, Hunnicutt definitely throws around plenty of manure, but once a quarter, his parties keep the World Tree growing strong.”

  Scolari sniffed, his sneer growing every second we talked about Hunnicutt.

  “What’s your problem with this guy, Doc?” Lena asked. “It sounds like he’s one of the good guys.”

  The old vampire looked slightly abashed, but after a few seconds, he finally said, “It’s so…gauche. I can’t bring myself to approve. In my time, we fed the Tree as well, but our ceremonies were much more restrained, much more—”

  “Boring,” said the short man in a bespoke tuxedo and a giant cowboy hat from behind Scolari. “Your ceremonies were boring, Joseph, and when I took over as the Tree’s Guardian, I decided to liven things up a little. Now we feed Yggdrasil every few months, and everyone gets together and has a good time. It’s what I call a win-win. Now, please introduce me to your friends.” He turned to us and bent down into a florid bow, sweeping the hat off his head with a smooth motion and exposing the yellow smiley face painted in the huge bald spot atop his round dome.

  I couldn’t help it, I kinda liked the little guy. I started to hope I didn’t have to punch him too many times to get him to hand over the Implement.

  “Keya Pravesh, Department of Homeland Security Paranormal Division,” Pravesh said, stepping forward and holding out her hand.

  “Whoa, little lady!” Hunnicutt stepped back, holding up both his hands with a big grin. “Ah didn’t know we was gonna have no gubmint types at this here shindig!”

  “Hunnicutt, your family has been in California since Scolari last had a suntan. You can drop the accent,” Lena said.

  The little man’s big grin fell away, and he stepped over to her, holding out his arms. She nodded, and he hugged her tight for a moment. “I’m real sorry to hear about Faye. I thought a lot of her, and she was a hell of a power. She will certainly be missed. Now who’s this tall drink of water with you?” He turned to me and cast an appraising eye. “He smells like power and trouble in equal parts.”

  “Nah,” I said, holding out a hand to shake. “I’m more like two parts trouble to one part power. Quincy Harker. I hunt bad things.”

  He put his hat back on and shook my hand, grip firm but not overbearing. “I’ve heard of you, Reaper. There’s a lot of folks here who won’t like you just for who you are. Or who your uncle is. I don’t want no trouble at my party, you understand me?”

  “I don’t want any trouble, either,” I said, thinking at the same time, Trouble seems to find me whether I want it or not. “But we need to talk to you. Preferably somewhere private.”

  Hunnicutt looked around the room and laughed. “Son, if you’re looking for private, we’ll have to relocate this party to my mountain house! There’s people everywhere, all over the estate. The only place I can go to get some peace and quiet between now and sunrise is my panic room, and not only am I not interested in showing all y’all where it is, it ain’t big enough to hold more than two or three folks. So, anything you need to talk to me about, it’s gonna have to be right out here in the open, not in the shadows where you usually operate.”

  The weight he put on the word “shadows” told me that he had some dealings with the Council in his history, and it didn’t sound like they were good ones. But whatever, that wasn’t my problem tonight. Tonight, I needed him to give me the Spear before the demon arrived and turned his party into an all-you-can-eat magical murder buffet.

  “You recently came into possession of an extremely powerful magical artifact,” I began.

  “The Spear of Longinus,” he said with a nod. “I’ve been hunting that thing for most of my life, all over the world. When that old biddy down in the jungle died, I thought I could get it then, but I had to chase it down the last fifteen years or so through a bunch of other collectors until I could finally get my hands on it. It was worth the hunt, though. It’s one of the greatest artifacts I’ve ever laid my eyes on, much less my hands.”

  “Yeah, about that…I need that Spear.” I said.

  He looked at me and laughed, almost losing his Stetson in the process. “Boy, you have studied at the feet of that old vampire, haven’t you? Well, son, let me tell it to you like I told Vlad the last time we got in a bidding war over an artifact. I wanted it, and now I got it, and if you don’t like it, you can kiss my ass.”

  I took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. I wanted to break his nose, but I’ve been working on my anger management issues, so I tried to explain things to him instead. “That Spear is more than the weapon that pierced Christ’s side as he hung on the cross. It’s—”

  “One of the seven Implements. I know. It’s not just holy, it’s God-touched. It belonged to the Archangel Azrael, the literal Angel of Death, until he lost it in the War on Heaven.”

  I managed to hide my surprise. For all he looked like a dilettante, Hunnicutt knew his magical artifacts. I didn’t sense any Talent around him, but he could have masked it somehow, I supposed. It didn’t matter. Talented or not, he was going to give me that Spear. “I hate to be the heavy, Mr. Hunnicutt, but I need that Implement. I need all the Implements. The Archangels can’t remember who they are unless they’re in contact with them, and I need the Archangels to be their old angelic selves for one more big scrap. After that, you can take it up with Azrael. Maybe he’ll let you have it back.”

  The smile was gone from Hunnicutt’s face, and now I didn’t see the genial party host, I saw the shrewd businessman and ruthless negotiator. “Mr. Harker, let me be perfectly clear. I don’t give a good goddamn what you want my Spear for, you can’t have it. I bought it, fair and square, and now it’s mine. If you want it, you can wait around until I die, then you can talk to my son, Billy, about what he wants to do with it. I expect he’ll sell it to you for not much more than I paid for it because he doesn’t like magic. But I do, and as long as I am drawing breath, the Spear of Destiny is going to stay right here, warded by the strongest circle California’s top mages can create, and guarded by two ogres, a wyvern, and a half-dozen armed human guards.”

  He pointed over to a case on a dais, where the Spear rested on a pair of Plexiglas arms allowing it to be observed from all angles. It didn’t look like much, just a bronze spear tip on a bronze haft covered with a patina of age. But when I looked at it with my Sight, it almost blinded me. This was definitely an Implement.

  “That’s it, all right,” I said. “That’s the Spear of Destiny.”

  “Yep,” Hunnicutt agreed. “And if you want it, you’re gonna have to pry it out of my cold, dead fingers.”

  It was all I could do not to oblige the little man, but just as I opened my mouth to reply, the doors exploded inward, splinters followed by the corpses of the four security guys we’d seen on the front steps. I threw up a quick shield to keep us from getting pelted with debris and turned to see what the hell was going on.

  Standing in the doorway, looking like ten thousand miles of bad road, was a man. Or at least, something wearing the skin of a man. He was tall, built like a powerlifter, and looked like he’d been living out of a dumpster for about a hundred years. I called up my Sight, and when the glow coming off him seared my mystical retinas, I knew we were well and truly fucked.

  There was no question that this was the guy who’d torn through Faye’s defenses and slaughtered the coven on the beach. There was also no question that he had enough power to level everyone at the party without breaking a sweat. The question was, now that I’d found the obviously psychotic Archangel Azrael, what the fuck was I supposed to do with him?

  12

  I stepped in front of Lena to keep her from charging in after the angel. “Change of plans. Lena, get yourself and all the human waiters and servers the fuck out of here. Scolari, get ready for a fight. Darius, time to let the dogs out.”

  The big Alpha gave me a dirty look. “Seriously, man? Now? And we’re not dogs!”

  “I know, but I might not get another chance to make jokes, and I really wanted to work that in somehow tonight.”

  “What about me?” Pravesh asked, stepping up beside me with her gun in hand.

  “Can you call in an airstrike? Drones? Tanks? Small nuclear weapons?”

  “Ummm, no.”

  “Then go with Lena and get the hell out of here. Don’t forget Hunnicutt. He’s a bit of an ass, but he doesn’t deserve to get ripped to pieces for it.”

  “You’re way too slow for Hunnicutt,” she said. “He vanished before the splinters from the door stopped falling.”

  “Smart. He could no more stop an angel than an earthquake. Did he happen to take the Spear with him?” I wasn’t taking my eyes off Azrael, who whipped his head around like a predator with a scent. The angel wore a long coat, tattered jeans, no shoes, and no shirt. I could see bloodstains on the coat and his pants. How in the hell had this guy been wandering around San Francisco looking like a mass murderer for days?

  “No.” Pravesh’s words broke me out of my reverie. “It’s still in the case.”

  “Okay, then. That’s the plan. We defend the Implement. I don’t know how much power this asshole has right now, but it’s going to be multiplied by a shitload if he gets his hands on that Spear, and there is no guarantee that it will snap him out of this rage. Scolari, will these folks listen to you?”

  “To a degree.”

  “Then get them organized and let’s throw everything we’ve got at this motherfucker.” I shrugged out of my tux jacket and rolled up my sleeves as I walked toward the angel. I snatched up a discarded serving tray and wove magic around it, turning it into a glowing purple replica of Captain America’s shield, but with a lot more magic repellant. With my other hand, I drew my pistol and aimed it at the angel.

  “Hey asshole!” I shouted, squeezing off two shots that whizzed by Azrael’s head. “I don’t think you were on the guest list.”

  The angel focused on me, his eyes blazing with golden light. In a blur of motion, he was across the fifty feet of floor that separated us and in front of me. I barely got my shield up in time to block his first punch, and I felt the shock reverberate up my arm all the way to my teeth. My defenses flared to life, and his kinetic energy was amplified and returned to him by the energy repelling spell I’d spun on the shield, hitting him with three times the force that he used.

 

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