I dozed in and out of a shallow sleep as I stared out the window at scenery that almost felt like it was on a loop, just trees and hills and little else. Something about the vibration and rumble of a vehicle was just so soothing, the sound and motion of the bus lulling me into a quiet comfort. I really should have been more vigilant.

  My eyes fluttered open when I realized that the bus had come to a full stop. I might have dreamed the way that it jerked as the driver slammed the brakes, but the expressions on the faces of the passengers around me, along with their hurried whispers, that was enough evidence that something was up. They all had their faces turned towards the front of the bus – not inside it, but outside, right on the road.

  “What is he even doing out there?” said a woman a row over.

  I pulled myself up by the seat in front of me, angling for a better look, dread steadily drip-dropping into my stomach as I scoped out the road. The sun was starting to rise, sending amber and golden fingers of light out across the world, some of them landing in stripes across the body of a man standing smack in the middle of the road.

  A ray of sunlight splashed across his face. His sunglasses shimmered with iridescence, just like an oil slick. Like the back of a beetle.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Run him over,” someone called out jokingly from the back. His voice was shushed by the rest of the passengers who, like me, could clearly tell that this was more than a little bit of a problem.

  That wasn’t Belphegor out there, though. This man’s hair was shorter, and blond, but those same iridescent elements shone through in his accessories, the strap of his watch, the pendant on his neck.

  Our bus driver, red-faced and agitated, was just about to open up the door to either yell at the stranger, or worse, try and remove him from the road. I sprinted up the aisle, a warning erupting from my throat.

  “No!”

  Too late.

  The man’s body burst into a swarm of black dots that zipped straight for the door’s opening. The bus erupted into bewildered screams. Our driver panicked, slamming on a button, but the door wasn’t closing fast enough. The thing outside wouldn’t have needed much of a breach, anyway. It was a swarm of flies.

  I grabbed the driver by the scruff of his shirt, fighting to pull him away from the entrance. “Get back with the others.”

  He wasn’t a small man by any means, and all he had to do was rip himself away from me. “Kid,” he said gruffly, getting on his knees and scrabbling under his seat, presumably for a weapon. “I’m responsible for everyone on this bus, and that includes you, and if you don’t get out of the way – ”

  The first of the flies entered the bus to the tune of an ominous, horrible buzzing. Then they reformed into the shape of a human, shifting and coalescing, light shimmering and reflecting on their exoskeletons, until we were seeing an exact copy of the blond man from out on the street. More screaming went up from the passengers. The bus driver took one look at him, then went running to join the others, a piece of lead pipe clutched uselessly in his hands. Geez. Thanks for the help, buddy.

  The blond man brushed off his clothes, then tugged on his suit jacket’s lapels. “You know, it wouldn’t have mattered if you idiots had shut the door. We could have broken through the glass. But the prince said not to leave any dead if at all possible.”

  My mind reached out to the Vestments, pleading desperately as I fought to buy us time. “‘We?’ Who the fuck is ‘we?’”

  The man smiled, the gleam of his teeth and the crook of his lips far too familiar. “Why, Beelzebub’s children, of course. His brood. We are many, and we are relentless.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. Where the fuck were the Vestments? Come on, sword. Come on, mace. Anything. “Your face is relentless,” I said.

  The man chuckled. “Cute. We’re to take you alive.” He tilted his head to either side, peering at the crowd of innocents at the back of the bus. He raised his hand and smiled. “Of course, the prince won’t be too annoyed about human casualties if it means we bring you home in the end.”

  I bared my teeth at the demon. “Fuck you. Go back to hell, asswipe. You aren’t hurting any of these people.” The Vestments. Help me, I thought. Help these people.

  The demon smiled. “Charming. They don’t have to die, but the choice is yours, of course. Beelzebub sends his regards.”

  I sensed it then, the telltale warmth that heralded the coming of the Vestments. I could feel motes of energy gathering around my right hand. Perfect. Something to kill this bastard with.

  “That’s terrible and unoriginal,” I told him. “And you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Wonderful. Then these people die.”

  An unholy buzzing sounded in the distance, growing like the rumble of thunder as it approached. My heart fell as the sky outside the bus darkened, the air filling with more and more flies. The demon pointed and spread his arms, directing the flow of his verminous brothers, then stretched out his fingers.

  People screamed as the windshield burst inwards, the tinkling of glass shards falling to the floor muffled by the all-consuming thrum of hundreds, possibly thousands of flies. I dashed towards the demon, my hand prepared to smash against his face.

  Golden light flashed, stopping me short with the size of the gift from the Vestments: a massive shield, big enough to cover me from head to toe. Good enough. I slammed the shield into the demon’s face, my heart leaping as I felt and heard the crunch of breaking teeth through the reverberating metal. I turned over my shoulder, screaming so I’d be heard.

  “Everybody get the fuck behind me. Crowd close.”

  The passengers didn’t hesitate, rushing me and pressing against my back as the swarm of flies pelted us, pinging against my defenses like hail on a tin roof, or, based on the impact each one dealt, like a stream of bullets. I held fast, digging the base of the shield into the ground. It felt like one of those riot shields that cops used, but I recognized from its height and shape that it was a medieval tower shield. Good thing they kept the armories so well-stocked upstairs.

  The pinging and zipping of little flies slowed, then stopped, the storm of vermin crawling down to a drizzle, then to nothing. The buzzing had gone, too. I peeked cautiously around the side of the shield. There was nothing there but a broken windshield – well, and a man huddled on the ground, clutching at his mouthful of shattered teeth.

  My shield vanished in a second flash of light, disintegrating into tiny golden motes. “You should probably get out of here,” I said. “I don’t think these people are going to take kindly to what you’ve done.”

  The man burbled, a sound I recognized as derisive laughter. “You should, too. Do you think they still see you as one of them? You’re a freak now. A pariah, as much as the rest of us are. Welcome to the arcane underground, nephilim. Things are never going to be the same for you.”

  I turned in place, the same people who at first huddled against me for protection crammed against the back of the bus, now that they were safe. A woman clutched her daughter to her chest, both their faces stained with tears. A man was stuttering into his cellphone, doing his best to tell 911 what just happened.

  My heart sank. Why were they afraid of me? I helped them. I thought I helped them.

  I turned again, meaning to take my anger out on the demon, but the bottom half of his body had already transformed into another swarm of flies. “They’re coming,” he burbled, his eyes wide with fear. “No.”

  “Who’s coming? More of your asshole friends? I’ll kill them, too.”

  “The Lorica,” the man said, his voice heavy. “You’ll go, too, if you know what’s good for you.” Blood dripped out of the corner of his lips as he leered at me with a broken mouth. “You think demons are bad? Humans are worse. Good luck, mongrel. You’ll need it.”

  He dispersed into a cloud of black flies with a sigh. I headed for the door, my blood racing for reasons I couldn’t understand. But it was a warning, and despite the words having come out of a demon’s mouth, the fear in his eyes had been very clear. Whoever this Lorica was, they meant business.

  That was when I heard the first pop, the sound a corn kernel makes in the pan. My hands trembled as I negotiated the steps out of the bus, my head turning towards the noise. There was another man there, when he wasn’t before. That pop was actually the sound of a human body materializing in our reality. I knew because more people manifested throughout the bus, simply appearing there. The passengers screamed.

  “It’s just teleportation magic, people.” The first man threw his hands up and scratched thick, strong fingers through his stubble. “God, every single time, you normals freak out. It’s no big deal. We’re just here to help.”

  The screaming intensified. The man in the middle of the bus – the chief teleporter or whatever – wore a brown trench coat. He was tall, lean, menacing, and it was obvious that he hadn’t shaved in days. Even from the door I could catch whiffs of the whiskey and cigarettes on him.

  “God, make it stop,” he shouted, clutching the side of his head. “I have such a hangover. It’s not that serious, people.”

  He snapped his fingers. Every last passenger on the bus, the driver included, collapsed in a heap. Holy shit. Did he – did he just kill them all? My shoulder banged against the door as I stumbled out of the bus. His head whipped around, and he narrowed his eyes as he tried to focus on my face.

  “Shit,” he growled. “I missed one.”

  I fucking ran for it.

  12

  I ran, and I didn’t stop running for several long minutes. But to my muscles and my lungs, it felt like hours. That’s all I’d been doing for what seemed like days. Just running from things I couldn’t understand, from forces that I could barely fight off on my own.

  And I’d already used the Vestments once. It was still morning.

  Fuck.

  All I had on me was my duffle bag, but somehow it grew heavier the farther I went. My body was even denser, my muscles dragging me down. I knew I couldn’t run forever. The only thing I could focus on was the pillar of light. How could it still be so far away? How much farther was Valero?

  I’d gone off the road a ways back, as if those teleporting freaks even needed roads to track me down. Hell, moving through the woods was probably giving them even more of an opportunity to find me. But this way I had some chance of losing them, at least visually. Still, every twig I snapped underfoot nearly sounded like the popping of teleportation magic. Too many times I flinched against another innocuous noise, dreading the appearance of a man in a brown trench coat, how he’d killed all those people with just a snap of his fingers.

  Then the sound came – a familiar, powerful buzzing, the noise of a thousand tiny beating wings. My body was already so worn out, but my blood surged with new adrenaline, panic and fear setting in so quickly that I took off like a bolt through the undergrowth.

  Yet the noise grew louder, and louder, coming ever closer with every second. But another noise joined it – again with the beating of wings, but this time they were larger, like a huge bird.

  Or an angel.

  My shoes skidded through wet, decaying leaves as I came to a shuddering halt. Raziel stood before me, simply blinking into existence with the rustling of invisible feathers. He brushed at his clothes, smoothing down the creases in his sweater, then smiling up at me.

  “Mason. How have you been?”

  “Not great. This is not a good time.” I looked over my shoulder, left, then right, then took off on a brisk walk through the woods. Raziel stammered as he followed.

  “And that’s exactly why I’m here. I thought you might want a little companionship.”

  I rounded on him, my forehead wrinkled tight, angrier than I’d expected to be. “What I want is to be left alone. What I want is for all of you assholes to go back to your home dimensions. I don’t want any part of this. Any part of you.”

  Raziel pressed his lips together into a sad little line, shaking his head at me. “I’m afraid that this is the way of things now. If it isn’t me, it’ll be someone else. Someone worse.”

  Dead leaves and twigs rustled and snapped behind me. I whirled around, my hands flying up to guard my face.

  “Speak of the devil,” Raziel mumbled.

  “He’s right, you know.” Beelzebub tugged on the wrist of his leather glove, his sunglasses iridescent against the thin shafts of light penetrating the canopy. “This is your life now.”

  A rock and a hard place. On instinct, I reached out to the Vestments, then stopped short. What could I even use to fight these bastards off? Could you kill an angel, a demon prince?

  “I don’t want any trouble,” I said, my tone even and measured as I dropped my hands to my sides. “The two of you just need to leave me alone.”

  I took a chance and strode past Beelzebub, testing to see if he would strike. His head turned to follow me as I walked, but no sign of danger yet. I thought I did a really good job of pretending that I was totally fine, even though I was positively shitting bricks on the inside.

  The shuffle of feet and leaves behind me said that both angel and demon were hurrying to keep pace, and within moments I had one literally flanking me on each shoulder. I know, the imagery isn’t lost on me. I shoved my hands deep in my pockets, sulking as I kicked through dead leaves, trudging towards the light in the distance. We walked on in silence for moments, until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “You sent one of your minions after me,” I said, shooting Beelzebub a quick glare. “You just had to stir up some drama, didn’t you? Those people could have been seriously hurt.”

  Beelzebub sniffed. “I don’t deal with rejection very well.” He shook his head, his hair as glossy and fluid as an oil slick. “But no one was hurt in the end, right? Well, except for my boy. You knocked half his teeth out.” The demon cracked his knuckles. “I’ll knock the rest out myself, later.”

  “You’re kidding yourself if you think no one got hurt,” I said, the anger rushing back into my body once more. “This guy in a trench coat – a whole bunch of people showed up. Teleported there. He snapped his fingers and all those passengers just passed out dead. They mentioned something about the Lori – was it the Lorica?”

  Raziel coughed softly, drawing attention to himself. “In that case, that means that the people on your bus are far from dead. The Lorica is an organization of mages who police supernatural activity throughout the country. They work to maintain order for both the arcane underground and the normals. Those people were merely put to sleep, tranquilized for their own safety, most likely. The Lorica was probably drawn by the attack orchestrated by Beelzebub’s servant.”

  Beelzebub sighed. “I told him to keep it subtle.”

  I scowled at him. “The bus’s windshield exploded inwards. If I didn’t have time to put up a shield, those people would have been torn to shreds.”

  “And yet they weren’t.” Beelzebub clapped his hands gently, a clear mockery. “Bravo. You were a hero today. Good for you.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Of course,” Raziel said, after clearing his throat yet again. “This does mean that you are now on the Lorica’s radar. It’s highly doubtful that you weren’t before, but now they are far more likely to pay attention to your movements.”

  “Great.” I kicked up a clod of leaves and dirt in frustration, the smell of wet earth sharp in my nostrils. “Just fucking great.”

  “I did you a favor, nephilim.” Beelzebub stretched his fingers out, like he was pretending to study his nails through his gloves. “Now you know who all your enemies are.”

  “You’re a piece of shit and you know it. I’m not going with you. No amount of convincing is going to change my mind, and I’m not going to just give in without a fight.” I turned to Raziel, still walking, still frowning. “And I know you haven’t tried to hurt me once this whole time, but – I need to decide for myself.”

  “Perhaps it’s for the best,” Raziel said, giving a sigh that was somehow at once resigned and expectant. When Beelzebub wasn’t looking, Raziel gave me a little wink. My frown deepened, but I caught his meaning. I wasn’t going to look a gift angel in the mouth.

  “All I’m saying,” Beelzebub droned, “is that this could all have been solved if you’d just let me have a taste. Just a quick, innocent nibble. That’s all.”

  I clenched my teeth, stamping my feet harder as wet woodlands gave way to actual paved road, wiping the soles of my shoes off on the asphalt.

  “Sure, I’ll give you a taste.” I turned around, walking backwards as I flipped him the bird. “Suck on this.”

  Beelzebub stopped in place, then bared his teeth at me. “This isn’t over. I can always find you again. You don’t want me as an enemy, nephilim.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I don’t want you as a friend, either. So there. Fuck off, buddy.”

  The demon Prince of Gluttony said nothing more, simmering in quiet fury as his body disintegrated into a cloud of buzzing black flies. They drifted away with the wind, leaving just me, the road, and Raziel.

  Again Raziel cleared his throat.

  “There’s really no need for that,” I said irritably. “It’s just the two of us now.”

  He shrugged. “Just trying to be polite. I suppose I’ll see you around, then.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not an open invitation. But like I said, you haven’t tried to kill me yet. So if we do bump into each other – which we clearly will since you seem to have my number – I’ll try to play nice.”

  “Right.”

  “Just don’t, like, manifest on me when I’m in the bathroom or something.”

  “Perish the thought.” Raziel smiled at me as he adjusted his sweater. “Take care, Mason Albrecht. And good luck.” He pointed past my head, at the pulsating shaft of electric blue light that pierced the clouds. “Your destiny awaits.”

  The angel of mysteries disappeared into his own pillar of light. Destiny? Hah. Apollo said so. Even his oracle backed it up. Destiny didn’t matter. I had to choose.

 

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