Virgo's Vigilantes (The Zodiac Book 6), page 31
I gave her an appreciative nod.
Cassie sighed, taking a seat. "Plus, I might be able to change things if I have a little more time to think."
"Oh? Why is that?" Bilba asked.
Cassie opened her mouth. She paused. Blinked. Her shoulders dropped.
"They selected you, didn't they?" I guessed.
Her head dropped.
"Wow," Bilba said in a breathy tone. "Can you believe this, guys? We're at a table with one of Yahweh's Council members. Demons sitting with Yahweh's own."
Cassie gave an embarrassed smile, still looking down at the table. "Please don't make this a big deal. One of ours passed, naturally. They had to fill the vacancy. I was, undeservedly I think, chosen. Nothing changes between us."
The heaven it didn't. This changed everything. "How does it not? You're a Council member. You are now part of the body that makes decisions that not only affect the Upperworld and Overworlds, but you're going to be privy to things that affect us too."
"And I'm going to work toward the benefit of everyone, Z—Zeke," Cassie said. "I mean… it's going to take me away from being able to help as much as I am now." She gestured at the map. "But in my new position, I'll be able to ensure the right angels are involved where I can't be."
"That could put you at risk," I said, trying to ignore the anxious thoughts bouncing around in my skull.
Cassie nodded. "It could."
In that moment I thought of a million things I could have said, ten million I wanted to say, and all would have made me look as ridiculous as a celebrity–struck imp. Cassie being selected to Yahweh's Council was nothing insignificant. It changed everything. Who she was. How she interacted with us. By its nature, it had to. Even if she remained friendly, she wouldn't be the same angel, because she couldn't afford to be. Proof of my opinion lay in the way Azazel had taken years to position himself to help in our cause. Even with the egregious violations to demon and Underworld, he still couldn't act boldly. Azazel was no coward. Yet he had to use different vehicles and agents to meet his goals. The same course was laid for Cassie now.
For all I knew, we could walk out of this meeting and I might not see her for decades. For centuries. The thought made my gut clench and my throat swell. Maybe I would never see her again.
I drew a deep breath, realizing how selfish my thought-train had become. More was at stake here than my enjoyment of being around Cassie. Lives were at stake. Cassie would find her replacement, and I would have to trust her choice. It was all about pushing toward a change in order to prevent the end of… well, everything—even if we hadn't figured out exactly what that change looked like. All that considered, I still didn't have to like it. Maybe I was being juvenile, but I couldn't see why it was so difficult to have an eternal realm where preserving interests wasn't divisive. Why was it so hard for the powerful to see the privilege of preserving the fulcrum, where everyone has a chance to live a fulfilling existence? What was it about being in a position of power that made someone want more and more, even more than their fair share? What was so unattractive about having 'just enough?' A pipe dream, I know, but without dreams, what point was there to existing?
"I'm happy for you," I said, the words forced out through my tight throat.
Cassie's lips curled up in a narrow smile.
"Will you be able to keep using our notebooks?" Bilba asked.
"Yes," Cassie said. "That won't be hard. It will be easier to stay in touch with you guys and not have to worry about being discovered. But don't worry about me. You three have enough going on. I wish I could help. Your situation is more precarious than mine. Just know," she said, glancing at me before sharing a look with everyone at the table, "you're not getting rid of me. I'll still be around, still worried about how you're going to stay safe."
Ralrek shrugged. "We can always go into hiding. There's plenty of places in the Underworld we could disappear to."
"You… you could find someplace safe?" Cassie asked. "What would your authorities say? Surely, they wouldn't leave you alone."
"They're so distracted with their problems and in-fighting they can't keep a finger on anything anymore," Bilba said cheerily. "They'd look, though. I'm pretty sure they won't stop until all of us and anyone who has helped us has been eradicated as a problem."
"The only problem is that it creates a lot more work for us," I said before this idea gained too much momentum. "Work that takes us away from important things like keeping the Balance balanced. That's what all of this is for. We have to stay safe. We'd need to restrict the knowledge of where we are to just a handful of demons. So, we'll have to level-up in the clear communication department and add layers between us and anyone acting to help. Just to keep everyone as safe as possible. That wouldn't be easy."
"No, it wouldn't be," Ralrek said. "But at least we would be alive. We can't guarantee that as long as the Council knows where we are. I'd rather act first than react when acted upon."
"Without our intervention, who knows what happens to the Balance," Bilba said.
"Where would you go?" Virgo asked.
Creed burned at my hip. I winced, inching the halberd away from my waist.
Ralrek leaned back in his chair, his head tilting side to side. "If I had my way, I would stay here. There's nothing like safety in numbers, and you guys have a tight operation. But, that would put the Vigilantes at serious risk. So, I don't know. We've been to the Eighth Circle, and that's probably the best bet. That place has been chaotic for so long, we could get lost."
The thought of living in the Eighth Circle offended me. It was a nasty place, full of nasty demons who ate treachery for breakfast. In a Circle that placed so little value on the lives and freedom of others, how could we find security enough to plot how we were going to change the course of Hell?
"There's always the Isle of Dread too," Bilba said matter-of-factly. I wasn't the only one who scoffed before he added, "What? We could. It would be safe. Well… safer."
Cassie leaned forward. "What's the Isle of Dread? That sounds like a horrendous place."
Bilba's head bobbed. "Oh, it is. Well, at least based on what I've read."
I agreed. We'd had this discussion, and a future on the Isle was as attractive as playing games of chance in the Eighth with a knife at your throat.
Ralrek tapped the table. "You tell her about that place," he said, standing. "I'm going to talk to the Vigilantes."
"Why?" Virgo said, his eyes narrowing.
"Because, I want to get information about them, as individuals. I want to learn about their stories, and where they want to go when we open the Path to sneak them back," Ralrek said, swiveling to the four of us seated at the table. "We're past the point of talking. We need to plan. That's what I'm going to do now. If we have to go into hiding, what we're doing won't be as easy as it is now. No time like the present to prepare. By knowing who these Abandoned demons are, and what they want for their future, I'll be preparing. I also want to know what resources they have back in the Underworld in case we need help. Could come in handy. Plus," Ralrek continued, looking only at Bilba and me, "if we have to hide in the Overworld, I want to make sure they trust us."
He left and an uneasy silence spread around the table.
Bilba cleared his throat. "Um, yeah, so, the Isle of Dread is a terrible place. It's basically an isolated part of the Underworld where our authorities discard demons, for lack of a better word."
Cassie scrunched her eyes. "I thought that's what Abandonment was about?"
Bilba said, "Well, in a way, it is. But for those demons they don't trust to let loose in the Overworld, they use the Isle. The demons sent there are restrained to the Underworld, so the Council can keep an easier eye on them, but they're not free to cause trouble either. There or here. The Balance goes untouched. It's a win–win for the Council."
"And a miserable existence for anyone sent to this Isle?" Cassie concluded.
"Exactly," Bilba said.
"How do you know?" Virgo asked, leaning forward, interlocking his fingers.
This was a question I could answer. "He reads. Everything. Literally."
"Don't knock it until you've tried it, Zeke. I know words are hard for you," Bilba, the Major demon, grinned.
"Ass."
"Well, let's hope you figure something else out," Cassie said. "I hate to think the three of you need to take such extreme measures to stay safe."
"Don't worry. We're going to stay ahead of the Council," Bilba said.
"You're going to continue to spy on them?" Virgo said.
"We have to," I said. "They thought we'd never come back from the Passage. As usual, they underestimated us, especially Bilba. But they won't stop. We can't either. It's a risk we have to take. Otherwise, we're constantly reacting."
Everyone at the table jumped when someone pounded on the door.
"Come in!" Virgo ordered.
One of the basketball-playing women, her face flushed, lunged into the room. Her hand remained on the door handle. "They did it again, Virgo. The women's clinic."
I spun in my chair. "What? The clinic? Why?"
"To make Yahweh's followers look bad," Cassie said with a deep scowl.
"What did they do?" Virgo growled.
"They bombed it." The woman's lip quivered. "Bombed the women's clinic. Casualties. And" –she stopped to swallow– "they're still there."
Virgo slammed a hand on the table. "Have James recall everyone. Tell them to bring whatever arms they have. Everyone goes directly to the clinic. Not here. We don't have time."
She nodded and disappeared back into the hangar.
Ralrek ran in even as she was leaving. "Let's go."
I was already on my feet
Virgo looked at each of us. "Can the Vigilantes count on you?"
As if the fierce expressions weren't enough of an answer, the head nods confirmed they could.
We ran into the hangar, towards the vans and the fight ahead. This time, no Mr. Nice Guy. If I had to do it alone, which I knew I wouldn't, today was the end for these terrorists.
24
Olympia
Darkness shrouded the city of Olympia, the sun having set long before we left the compounds of the Vigilante headquarters. The block around the women's clinic was darker still. Power was out for blocks surrounding the building. The only light came from fires set at buildings around this section of the city. I'd seen a setting like this before, a setting I didn't want to ever experience again, but now was. This looked like a war zone.
I knew a Founder's fingerprint when I saw one. The fires had been set to distract and split authorities, keeping them busy so someone could execute the attack on the women's clinic with flawless cruelty. How else did you describe someone who would hurt women and children in need of services?
"Oh, my Lucifer," Bilba said, his eyes staring in widened horror at what remained of the clinic.
I found it hard to comprehend it as well.
A third of the building had collapsed, the rubble sloping into the road. Shattered glass sparkled orange. Wood beams still burned. Other building materials smoldered in piles. Underneath one of those, a thin arm, covered in blood, poked out. Unmoving.
Creed throbbed at my hip the entire drive, as if it wanted to remind me I didn't listen to its first warning.
Sirens blared through the night. I imagined every available firefighter from any city that could get to Olympia was on their way. Black clouds billowed into the night, obscuring the moon and stars. The anguished cries of mortals punctuated the chorus of approaching sirens.
"I'm going to kill these bastards," Ralrek growled, his hands glowing with the spell he held.
Creed was in my hand, extended, the blades gray but threatening. "Not if I get to them first."
Virgo was dispatching the Vigilantes, choosing to not wait for those he'd recalled. They'd be too slow to respond anyway with the streets blocked off. Late arrivers would have to run for blocks once they got into Olympia. We couldn't wait. We had to act now.
I extended my senses, feeling muted demonic magic, just as I had the last time at the clinic. "There's at least twenty in the building," I said.
Cassie whipped her head around. "How do you know that?"
"You're not the only one working on your skills," I said. "I can sense demonic magic now, even a good distance away. The building is blocking a lot of the signatures, but I can feel the emissions. We need to be careful, or more will die."
We hunkered behind a broken section of outer wall that had collapsed into large piles of rubble where we could assess the situation.
From inside, a fireball raced across the night sky, striking a building further down the block. The rumble followed seconds later, the building already catching fire. More destruction. More death.
"I'm going in," I said, standing, Creed pulsing in my hand.
Ralrek grabbed my wrist. "Give me a chance. I'll blast them out of there. No sense putting yourself at risk, Zeke."
I knew what he meant, and I knew why he said it, but it didn't mean I was going to fall for it. Everyone in the blessed Fifth, in the entire Underworld, could call me whatever they wanted. Segregate or Great Prince, it didn't matter. You couldn't be a liberator, as The Histories of the Balance claimed the owner of Creed was, if you didn't actually liberate. And as long as that crew of demons boarded up in the standing section of the building was terrorizing the mortal realm, I was not a liberator.
Before I wrenched my hand free, a scream drew my attention.
The front door of the clinic burst open and a woman ran into the night. The leg of her slacks was ripped open, exposing bloody skin. Her blouse was torn at the sleeve. Her blood–stained face was marked with terror.
Behind her, the door hadn't even closed when another figure appeared, silhouetted against the light streaming from inside. I sent my senses and felt the emissions radiating from the silhouetted figure.
I jerked my hand away from Ralrek. He didn't grab me again. "Focus on the building. Suppress their attacks. I've got this," I shouted as I sprinted toward the woman.
In her terror, she wouldn't be able to distinguish friend from foe, and we couldn't have a sit-down to give me a chance to convince her I was one of the good guys while holding a six-foot long halberd. The figure in the door was conjuring. A cold, smooth stone sensation of water magic slid over my forearms.
The figure's hands raised toward the fleeing woman. I hefted Creed, the wavy dagger facing forward, and threw it like a javelin. Before the demonic figure released their spell, Creed brought an end to their magic and to them. The blade sank deep, propelling the figure backward, shattering the glass door. Creed's victim was an incubus. He shuddered for a second and then lay still.
"Creed!" I ran forward even as Creed stood on its end. Holding out my hand, I caught the halberd after it zipped across the open air.
Inside the foyer, I took a second to look at the young incubus. This incubus had to be a thousand years younger than me, maybe just out of school. Senseless.
Outside, the firearms popping told me the Vigilantes were engaging. Thudding of spells striking against and coming out of the building, hitting objects—and probably victims—told me that the fight was now on.
From my previous invasion of this clinic, albeit the collapsed portion, I was familiar enough with its layout to know where I could find the stairs. A military-esque strategy was at play here, dictating the demon's positioning. Wherever their forces were, they were attacking from the safety of the upper floors. That's where I headed as the battle escalated outside.
Reaching the second floor, glass shattered down the hall. Spreading my senses again, I felt the ebbing emissions from a dying immortal. One point for the good guys.
From my left was a strong signature. The demons had split their forces to both ends of the building. I crept forward, unable to spin Creed to create a shield in the narrowness of the hall.
"The Prince is here," a voice said, close enough to my ear to touch it with its lips.
I was alone.
Great, not only was I going crazy, but now I was going crazy with narcissism.
Creed jolted, and I almost dropped it—a warning I wouldn't ignore this time.
I reached the room where I felt the strong signature. Backing against the wall, I raised my foot and kicked the door open. And froze.
Not one demon but three. And all were casting. As if that wasn't bad enough, I knew one of them.
From a mile away, I could have picked out the brooding incubus who wore a permanent scowl of hatred, even though I'd only met him once at a family picnic. The incubus I was supposed to take under my horns and mentor if we ever crossed paths again. The young incubus I would mentor in honor of Leo and Aries.
"Harvest," I moaned Leo's brother's name.
If the younger incubus recognized me, it never reached his face. Surprised hostility did.
Harvest Leto's small mouth pursed like an imp attempting his first kiss. My skin flushed with warmth, the sign of a Manipulative spell.
"Don't do it, Harvest," I snapped.
He blinked at my mention of his name, then resumed his spell.
The two other demons, one incubus and a succubus about my age, turned away from the window through which they were firing their spells at the Vigilantes below and focused on me. Three-on-one. Great odds.
Unlike the hall, this room had enough room for me to use Creed's shield. As they turned, about to spray their magic—and probably me—all over the office, I rotated the halberd. Creed didn't help matters by the way it thumped in my hands. I didn't have time for his attitude right now. We'd hash out our differences if I got through this.
On the other side of the wall, groaning overrode all sound. The roof caving in? Maybe I wouldn't die at the hands of these too-young, dumb, and full of themselves demons. Maybe my destiny lay under a pile of building materials molded by decades of Pacific Northwest rains.
