Virgo's Vigilantes (The Zodiac Book 6), page 21
"I know how to build trust, at least between the Vigilantes and the Underworld," Bilba said, his high–pitched voice splitting the tension.
Virgo barked, "How?"
Bilba cleared his throat. "With our ability to open undetectable rifts between the Underworld and Overworld, we can do something no one has ever done before, at least no one I'm aware of."
I circled my finger, telling my friend to speed it up.
Blooming pink at the tips of Bilba's ears spread to his cheeks. "What I mean is, we could reach an agreement to take Vigilantes back to the Underworld. We could start bringing demons home."
"For what?" Virgo asked, his eyes narrowed.
"F—fo—for nothing," Bilba stuttered. "Well, I mean, so they can return home and live normal lives. Since we can travel without detection, we could get them home the same way. It would stop their decay. Being back there would restore their immortality." He turned to include Cassie in the conversation. "I'm sure angels could do the same thing. I couldn't do that for them, but someone on your side could. If we started this, then your Vigilantes could help both sides without the other being present, because we would already be building trust by returning demons and angels to their rightful homes."
"Sneaking demons back into the Underworld?" Ralrek mumbled, as though mulling over the proposition.
Bilba was a genius. What happened to demons once they were back in the Underworld, how they went about re-engaging in everyday life, was a more difficult question that could be ironed out later. Right now, Bilba had offered a feasible solution to a problem that was slowing everything.
"Sort of like how the mortals had the Underground Railroad?" Cassie said.
Bilba nodded. "Exactly. I mean, it wouldn't be that big. We could only sneak one or two back at a time until we're sure. But the concept is the same."
"What would you call it?" Ralrek asked. "You can't use the same name as the mortal's effort. That's offensive."
Bilba's cheeks wobbled as he shook his head. "I—I don't know. I haven't thought that far into it. It's something I've been thinking about since we met the Vigilantes. We could… call it the Highway to Hell, or something."
Ralrek smashed his lips together, jutting his jaw to the side, scratching it. "That's a mouthful."
"What about The Path?" I propose, wanting to move this along.
"Not very imaginative," Ralrek said.
"No, but it's simple, and ambiguous," I said. "We could use it and so could the angels, and no one who wasn't already in-the-know would have any idea what we're talking about. Plus, it has all the spiritual connotations worshipers need. It's perfect. We can always change it later. It's the idea that matters." Now I turned to Virgo. "Sound good? Does it do enough to earn your trust so we can help these mortals? Like now?"
His bottom jaw extended, showing teeth. "It does. It helps a lot." He pressed on the table, pushing himself up. His eyes bore into Cassie. "Trust is vital if the five of us are going to work together. We can't have secrets."
Cassie's head dropped.
"Are you telling him, or am I?" Virgo asked, not moving from the spot where he stood, but crossing his arms.
Cassie pressed her hands to the notched wood, pushing herself up. "We have more important things to do. We can deal with it later."
The way she enforced each word told me it was very much a big deal.
"Fine," Virgo snapped, "I'll put it out in the open and the rest of you can work it out after we're done dealing with this mess. But I'm not walking into this without everything being on the up–and–up. Guys," Virgo said, turning away from Cassie, whose eyes flared, "Cassie has been nominated for a position on the Upperworld's Council. Yahweh's Council."
By the time I turned my stunned face to Cassie, she was already watching me, her head hung low.
Cassie, serving on Yahweh's Council as one of the decision-makers of the Upperworld? One of its most powerful angels?
And she had never said a word.
Maybe Virgo was right about this whole trust issue.
15
Olympia
"I am sorry," Cassie said, rounding the table and moving closer. Her fresh smell soured by hidden truths.
Virgo cast us a wary look before stepping out of the meeting room. Bilba and Ralrek followed closely behind, saying they would help. That left me alone with the angel who had lost some of her flair in the past few seconds.
"I just don't get it. Were you ever going to tell me?" I asked, trying to not sound like a pouting imp. "After everything we've been through, I thought you could trust me enough to share that."
She shook her head, a few strands of her cocoa hair falling loose. She tucked them behind her ear.
I swallowed. I think.
"Regardless of what V—Virgo says, it's not about trust. I didn't tell you because it never came up," Cassie said. "I don't want this to come between us. It's no big deal."
I did one of those cough–laughs that you do when you're ticked off and exasperated by someone. "No big deal? You're up for a position on Yahweh's blessed Council, Cassie!"
She flinched. "Please don't swear. You're better than that. And, I'm well aware of what I'm up for. There's been talk for a long time. Why do you think I keep getting these types of missions? They've been grooming me, going back way before the mission with Gemini."
"How in the world am I supposed to know how the Upperworld works? I just thought you were good at your job," I said. Yep, I sounded like a pouting imp.
"Z—Zeke, please don't. I swear, if everything were calmer, and I wasn't thwarting demonic activity, I might have had time to visit with you. We could have talked," she said. We hadn't had time. "All of this is stupid, really. I'm good at my job, but a nomination to the Council? It's not going to happen. I'm not going to actually be selected."
"Why not?"
Cassie opened her mouth and then snapped it shut, like she nearly said the last thing she wanted to say. Her shoulders rose with a dramatic sigh. "To be honest, I'm seen in a good light in the Upperworld. My work has been noticed by the right angels. Right place, right time. That's why. Plus, I'm not worried about it because it won't happen. I'm far too young."
Good decorum demands that you don't ask a lady her age. But since when was I anything but awkward around the female persuasion. "How young are you?"
One corner of Cassie's mouth curled up. "I'm eight-thousand and some change, since you're asking. You also want to know my weight?"
"Don't be a jerk," I said, feeling the initial heat of an embarrassed blush.
"I wanted to tell you, Z—Zeke, but the opportunity never came up, and I didn't want to sound like a braggart either," she said.
"Oh, don't worry about that. If your Council is anything like ours, a position on it is nothing to brag about," I said. "Still, I would have enjoyed celebrating that accomplishment with you."
"Are you asking me out on a date?" Cassie asked.
"We've already gone for drinks and look where that led us," I said. "Plus, I'm a beer drinker and you drink fancy stuff. You're not a cheap date."
That drew an ugly laugh–snort from the angel. Her smile dropped, her tone turning serious. "I would have told you… someday. It would have been a risk because of the attention on you. Please believe me when I say it wasn't easy to not tell you. Plus, the timing never seemed right. My attention was on other places, and it's not like we were close enough to talk about this during the events in Germany. Then we both went our separate ways for… what? Nearly two years? Even if I had the chance, I still might not have said anything until I knew it was actually going to happen. Not that I didn't trust you. Not that I don't trust you. But you've been in a bad spot for a while. Even if things were different, I still have no chance."
"Are you saying that if I'd come out directly and asked you, you would have misled me because you wanted to protect me?" I asked, my disbelief turning my mood sour.
"Probably," she said. "It would have caused too many… issues. For both of us. I'd always wanted to tell you. Our friendship means a lot to me. It's just… it's not that simple."
Before I had time to ask her what that meant, Bilba barged into the room. "Guys, come on. Something's happening." He dashed back out before we made a move.
Cassie shot toward the door, but I grabbed her wrist before she was out of reach. She turned, her crystal eyes wide.
"We're not done talking about this," I said, not without compassion.
She looked at my hand on her wrist. I let go, but she clutched my hand. I tingled. "I like that deal. And maybe I'll let you buy me that expensive drink. Now, let's go."
The angel spun and left the meeting room. I drew a calming breath before I followed.
Thirty feet away, Virgo oversaw the activity while in deep conversation with a short, hard–looking man. Enough space was between the pair for me to sense if he was Abandoned, immortal, or other. I extended my senses, not feeling any emissions. A mortal. Each time he spoke, Virgo leaned down so the man could whisper in his ear. With a sharp nod, Virgo dismissed him.
Virgo raised his arm, finger extended, making a circular motion. "Load up!"
Vigilantes piled into the backs of the vans.
Virgo jutted his chin in our direction. "Split up among the three vans. Don't ride together. We don't want to risk losing all of you with a single attack."
What did Virgo think we were riding into? During our army stint, Bilba, Ralrek, and I had deployed to Iraq. We were well-versed on the discipline of convoys. We understood how this worked. This was reminiscent of that time, just with less chest beating and with a lot less "hurrahing."
Virgo jumped in the passenger seat of the van on the left, so I went to the one on the right. Ralrek rode with Virgo. Bilba jumped in the middle one. Cassie joined me—sheer luck and all that.
Virgo's van shot out of the hangar, the side mirrors an inch away from scraping steel. The other two vehicles fell in behind. From my seat in the back, I couldn't see much through the front window. Within minutes, we were leaving the harbor area dominated by a log yard, racing up Franklin Street, and into the denser downtown area before turning east.
A new condo complex had grown up out of the parking lot since the last time I was in this part of Olympia, a three-story structure that made hiding and unloading the vans easy. The obstruction blocked the line of sight for any demons at the women's clinic.
"Everyone, check your weapons. We do this correctly," Virgo barked the order even as the vans were still unloading.
I looked behind me. The pub on the other side of the parking lot, which should have been open, was shuttered. At least we didn't have to worry about witnesses or casualties there. When we made our way to the street, both directions revealed that anyone who had been outside had scurried to safety. All signs of life in Olympia had been washed away for blocks east of the clinic.
"We do this quietly," Virgo ordered, waving his small army of Vigilantes forward. We sprinted down the sidewalk, crossing the road at the intersection.
I fell in behind the leader, even though I was one of the last to leave the parking lot. My adrenaline surged with the oncoming confrontation, blocking my brain from any thought but staying close to Virgo.
The clinic was shielded from the rest of the neighborhood by a tall, corrugated metal fence painted forest green, perhaps to match the spirit of the Olympic forests that surrounded the city. The gate had been closed from the inside, secured with a thick chain and lock. Virgo slammed against it, but that only resulted in the fence rocking open and swinging back closed.
"Get back," I said, pulling Creed from the loop and activating it. The steel blades clanged to life. As I brought Creed up over my head, I rotated it so that the moon-shaped ax head bit through the chain—hot knife meet butter.
One man growled. "Nice!"
Virgo shouldered the gate, and it flew open this time. The Vigilantes and us immortal supplements raced into the parking lot.
"Close that. See if you can bar it too," Virgo ordered the Vigilante at the end of the line. "I don't want any surprises coming up our backsides."
A woman in worn combat fatigues slid to a halt, spun, and reached for the gate with both hands. With a heave, she flung the gate and braced it closed with her knee until she secured the latch.
"On your guard," Virgo ordered.
The Vigilantes moved through the crowd of cars at a slow walk, each hunching over.
I stayed toward the rear, watching my friends spread out. Bilba took the far west corner. Ralrek slid along the fence to the east side of the parking lot. Cassie moved up the middle between the rows of cars, hugging one line for shelter. From the back, I extended my senses toward the three-story building.
There are things, whether Over or Underworld, that are eerie and unnerving. A forest at night comes to mind. Eve's Sanctuary can get like that too when no demons are around and the only sounds come from creatures hiding in its overgrown vegetation, especially the sprites, the spying little creeps. Empty streets at night are another. A silent parent sitting on the other side of the dinner table after you've done something you knew would disappoint them. And this parking lot.
It was too quiet.
"Liberate," a voice said near me, though I was standing alone.
I didn't have time to lose my mind.
My frustration grew at the lack of sound. We'd wasted too much valuable time at the Vigilantes headquarters fighting over how important trust was. Now, we might pay for that delay.
I extended my senses toward the clinic, unsure if I could pick anything up through the brick, steel, insulation, and whatever else was packed into that construction. As the wave pushed out, I picked up the signatures of the immortals and Abandoned. Easy enough now that every caster was conjuring.
Ralrek's Fire magic scratched my right side, the stickiness of Bilba's Deception on my left. From the center of the parking lot came the joyful experience of a subtle migraine building at the base of my skull from my immortal-enemy-turned-friend, Cassie. Whatever she was about to do promised pain, and not just for her target. Sometimes, I can't believe how cursed I am—that's sarcasm, by the way.
Underneath it, from the direction of the building parallel to the lot, I felt… something. It was difficult to discern, partially because of the stimulus of the magic, but also because the clinic hid an untold number of immortals who may already be privy to our presence. If they were, they'd be preparing their response. The difference was, the demons on the other side of the brick wall were unseen and protected, their magic muted by the physical barriers.
Creed thumped. A window on the top floor shot open, and the muted sense I had of Abilities from within clarified.
"Get down!" I shouted a moment too late.
A thin stream of fire roared from the building. The flame caught two of the Vigilantes sneaking across the parking lot. They burst into flame, which roared five feet above their heads in a thin inferno. From toe to tip, they were engulfed, wildly swinging their arms in panicked pain. Their screams made me want to vomit.
Virgo shouted new orders as another window on the top story opened. With my body reacting to the diverse sources of magic, it was difficult to focus on what was coming from that second window. I had to warn everyone, but warn them about what? It didn't matter. Bad stuff was swelling in hiding.
"Be on your guard," I said.
Bilba held both arms diagonally away from his body at waist-level and then swooped them toward the building. I'd never seen him do that move, but I loved the result. Seconds after his gesture, a swarm of bats arced out of the sky and into the fight. Before they reached the building, a new sensation hit me from the second window. Inside my skull, a tickling. Bless it. Discernment magic.
Lucifer, I hate Discernment spells. Ever since my frightening experience with Taurus in the Eighth Circle, I haven't been at peace with the fact that some demons—too many—possess the Ability. Discernment magic screws with your head. Literally.
As Bilba's bats swarmed toward the building, I watched in helpless horror as a Vigilante turned toward Virgo's small army, aimed his pistol, and began firing. Three Vigilantes dropped to the blacktop before the rest took cover. A bright, white arrow of energy shot from Cassie's hand taking the poor bastard under the Discernment attack out. He was engulfed in a white orb that flashed to nothingness along with the victim. As if he never existed.
"There!" Virgo pointed toward the two open windows, and the Vigilantes focused their efforts on them.
Our gunfire was going to draw authorities. This had to end. Now. The problem was, we couldn't do that from the parking lot.
I sprinted across the expanse of blacktop, reaching the front door and trying to pull it open. It was locked, but made of glass. I stepped back, raising Creed with both arms, and thrust it forward from its high-guard position. Glass shattered, spraying the floor inside the clinic.
Ducking under the crossbar, I entered the building, bringing Creed up to mid-guard. A stairwell was directly ahead. I took it to the next floor, listening for any hint where I might find the agents of Hell. With the battle raging outside, I couldn't hear a thing.
From office to office I moved, searching each with wary steps. Toward the end of the hall, I found another stairwell which wrapped upward to the last floor.
Reaching the landing, I extended my senses, feeling Abilities in the room two doors to my right. I crept forward. As I reached for the handle, Creed nearly shocked me as its blades burst to life with Hellfire blue.
Immense power. My chest swelled. I felt indestructible.
Stepping back, I lowered my shoulder and rammed. The door flew inward. I stumbled into the room, shocking its occupants as much as I shocked myself. My accomplishment was the stuff of movies and Jason Momoa, not this little magicless demon—I guessed being the Great Prince had its advantages.
"Back off, Sunstone," an incubus, as tall as Ralrek, but half as wide, said. He reminded me of one of those waving blow-up stick figures at local car dealerships. "Or they die."
