Black Spring (5 page)

“There is a crisis of epic proportions at hand and you are thinking about ice cream?” he said.

I laughed, taking his hand. “I’m pregnant and I will not be denied. Besides, there’s a crisis of epic proportions every five seconds around here.”

“I love you, but I do not understand you,” Nathaniel said, allowing me to tug him in the direction of the store.

We strolled along, not speaking much. I was trying to enjoy the moment, to allow myself these few moments to pretend that we were as normal as we looked. It was not the first time I had wished that my life had turned out differently, that I had a future that didn’t involve blood and magic and darkness covering the world.

As a child I’d yearned for sitcom normality—a mother who packed Wonder Bread lunches and volunteered at school instead of running off to collect souls at all hours, a dad who was actually present. Even though I loved Beezle and could not imagine life without him, there were still occasions when I wished for a puppy instead of a grumpy talking gargoyle.

Over time I’d come to a kind of peace with the presence of the Agency in my life. But since I’d discovered my relationship to some of the most powerful creatures in history, I yearned for that normality more than ever. The impending birth of my son only intensified this feeling.

Parents want their children to have what they did not, and I had never had stability. I did not want my baby to enter a world that was constantly under the threat of magical destruction. I especially did not want him to grow up like I did, always waiting at the window hoping Mommy would come home to give me a kiss before bedtime.

The worst of it was that I could not see how I could change my fate, or his. Everywhere I turned there was another wall to box me in.

“Madeline?” Nathaniel said. Something in his tone told me he had tried to get my attention more than once.

I shook my head, wishing I could shake away my gloomy contemplations of the future. “Sorry.”

“We have arrived,” he said, pointing at the white-and-blue awning in front of us.

The intense craving that had seized me earlier had by this time faded, but ice cream would still help my mood. There is no mood that cannot be improved by a giant sundae.

Nathaniel expressed no interest in eating. He watched me enthusiastically attack my ice cream, all the while wearing what I thought of as his I-do-not-comprehend-humans expression.

“Don’t you like ice cream?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Most angels do not see the appeal of sugar. It does not seem to affect us as it does humans.”

I thought back and realized I’d never seen Gabriel or Nathaniel eat anything dessert-like.

“Is it because of differences in body chemistry?” I wondered aloud. “Or because angels have such long lives that simple things become boring?”

“Perhaps some of both,” he said. “I have often wished I could take comfort in small pleasures, as you do.”

Somehow it had never occurred to me that Nathaniel might have some of the same longings I did, a desire to be more human. Part of this was because he had expressed contempt for humanity so often that I’d assumed he would never give up any aspect of the “superiority” of angels. The changes that occurred since his magical legacy had been released still surprised me.

“Well, there’s no time like the present to start learning,” I said.

I scooped a big spoonful of vanilla ice cream mixed with hot fudge and peanut butter sauce and held it out to him, smiling.

He looked at me, then at the spoon, then back at me again. The smile faded from my face. Suddenly the action seemed fraught with implication. Something shifted in his eyes. There was a light and a heat that was not there before. My hand seemed frozen in place, and everything inside me stilled. I could not take my eyes from his mouth as it moved toward the spoon.

“Ms. Madeline Black?” a voice asked from somewhere above my left shoulder.

I dropped the spoon to the table with a clatter, the spell broken. Several patrons glanced over at the noise and my face reddened. The shop seating area was small and the tables were stacked beside one another with barely enough room to maneuver through the aisles so privacy was completely nonexistent.

Nathaniel calmly wiped the ice cream from the table with a napkin as I turned to glare at the person who had interrupted us.

It was a tall man with blond hair curling over his brow and the tops of his ears. His eyes were a brilliant green, like the poisonous shade of the river, and he was dressed like an Ermenegildo Zegna ad. There was something about him that struck me as familiar. In his right hand he held a creamy white envelope with a seal I recognized on the back. The snake tattoo on my palm twitched.

“Whatever you’ve got, I don’t want it,” I said. I pushed the half-eaten sundae away from me, any pleasure I took in the moment sucked out by the presence of a messenger from my second-least-favorite relation.

“Lord Lucifer expected you to respond thus and instructed me to wait while you read his missive,” the messenger said in a carrying voice.

If anyone had not been looking at us before, they certainly were now, especially after they heard the word “Lucifer.” Some people looked confused, like they thought the guy was kidding. Others looked offended, frightened or suspicious. They may not know for sure whether Lucifer existed, but everyone in Chicago knew there were bad things loose in the world.

“What’s the matter with you?” I hissed at the messenger. “Go outside, for the love of Pete. I’ll be out in a second.”

He looked doubtful, like I was going to try to slip away from him somehow. “Lord Lucifer instructed me to—”

“Shut. Up,” I said through my teeth as I came to my feet. All I wanted was for him to stop talking and everyone to stop looking. Pretty soon someone would put my face together with the video footage of me destroying the vampires at Soldier Field, and then who knew what would happen?

I didn’t want to wait to find out. I waved the messenger ahead of me as I waddled my way out of the seating area and past the bar where the ice cream was prepared. The stares of everyone who had witnessed the scene pressed into my back.

Nathaniel moved up beside me as we followed the messenger out to the sidewalk. As soon as we were outdoors, Lucifer’s errand boy turned to me with the envelope. I snatched it from his hand but did not open it. The Ghirardelli store was next to a Topshop and only half a block from Michigan Avenue. There were a ton of people walking back and forth, and a lot of women giving both Nathaniel and the messenger admiring glances. A little privacy was necessary.

We crossed Pearson and went into the little park next to the water tower. There were several benches with people on them, checking their phones, reading magazines, eating potato chips. I looked for a semi-secluded area where I could read what was in the envelope. Anger and embarrassment coursed through me. I was beyond tired of having every decent moment in my life ruined by Lucifer, and I was in a bad enough mood to take it out on the messenger.

“Are you one of his kids?” I asked as I tore the seal from the envelope.

I really did not want to see what was inside. Every time I received a letter from Lucifer he asked (read: ordered) me to perform some crappy task that would endanger my life and create more enemies.

“One of whom’s?” the messenger asked.

“Lucifer’s, of course,” I said. “You’ve got that look. What’s your name?”

He seemed surprised. “My name is Zaniel, and yes, Lord Lucifer is my father.”

“Who’s your mother?”

“Ariell,” he said with a trace of stiffness in his voice.

I’d started to unfold the paper but stopped at the name, staring at Zaniel in surprise.

“Ariell the psycho? Ariell who I—” I stopped, realizing what I was about to say.

Zaniel finished for me, his green eyes stony. “Killed. Yes.”

That meant this character was Samiel’s half brother. They shared the same mother. And while Samiel had come around pretty quickly to the idea that the world was better off without Ariell, there was no guarantee Zaniel would feel the same.

“What’s Lucifer’s game in sending you to me?” I asked.

“I do not understand what you mean,” he said.

“Are you normally his errand boy, or is this a new thing?”

“This is the first occasion in which Lord Lucifer has entrusted me with—”

I cut him off. “So he sent you here for a reason. I just need to figure out what that reason is.”

“It is not for us to know Lord Lucifer’s ways,” he said.

“It is for me. I’m the one who’s always getting screwed over by his plans.”

While Zaniel and I had our little exchange, Nathaniel took the letter from my hand, opened it and read it.

“I do not see that you are ‘getting screwed,’ as you say. Lord Lucifer showers you with honors far beyond your status. You are only a distant heir in the bloodline, not even an immediate child.” There was a strong note of jealousy in his voice.

“You want my ‘honors’? You can have them. Every time Lucifer has some shit job he wants done that involves bloodletting some freaky monster, I get the privilege of handling it.”

“That is the right of the Hound of the Hunt,” he said. “By making you, one of his own bloodline, the Hound, Lord Lucifer sent a clear message to all his children that you are preferred.”

“Yeah, well—” I started, but was cut off by Nathaniel.

“Madeline,” he said.

I looked at him. He handed me the paper without a word, and I finally read the missive that was so important that Zaniel had to interrupt my day.

I’d been wrong. It wasn’t an assignment from my darling great-grandfather.

It was an invitation.

And boy, I did not want to attend this party.

It read, in fancy italics:

You are cordially invited to share in our joy
At the marriage of

Lucifer Morningstar, First of the Fallen

And
His One True Love,

Evangeline of the Bone-eaters Tribe

At our home
Saturday, May 15th at 5pm
Dinner to follow
RSVP Immediately

I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Lucifer was formally marrying Evangeline, my psychotic, eyeless, one-armed, many-greats-grandmother. That meant that her child, the one they’d conceived while Lucifer visited Evangeline in the land of the dead, would become his heir, no question about it.

And that meant me and my offspring were out of it, which was absolutely a relief. Hopefully Evangeline would act less crazy once her position was secured.

However, I did not think it was a good idea for me to walk into the parlor of the spider. A confrontation with Evangeline in her own home would probably go badly for me.

The wedding would be a farce in any case. Would Lucifer wear a tuxedo? Would Evangeline wear a giant confection of a wedding dress? Would all the fallen do the Electric Slide and the Chicken Dance? I did not want to be a party to any of those things, although Beezle would want to videotape the whole thing and upload it to YouTube, I was sure.

I folded the paper and handed it back to the messenger, who did not take it.

“You can tell Grandpa that I respectfully decline,” I said.

He shook his head, a malicious glint in his eye. “Lord Lucifer expected this response and instructed me to tell you that attendance is not optional.”

“This wedding is only three days away. I’ve got pressing business here to attend to,” I said.

“Your presence is required. And so is yours,” he said to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel nodded, like he had expected this.
Oh, no, no.
I did not like that at all. Nathaniel’s presence in my life had only been tolerated by Lucifer since the Morningstar had discovered Nathaniel was Puck’s son. Prior to that, Nathaniel had been serving a debt to Lucifer for his part in Azazel’s rebellion. His life was forfeit to my great-grandfather, and if Lucifer chose, he could kill Nathaniel without a second of justification. I did not want Nathaniel under Lucifer’s eye for an extended period of time. The Morningstar might kill him in a fit of pique.

I opened my mouth to protest, but Nathaniel’s look stopped me. I could almost read his mind.
Not now, get rid of the messenger.

I folded the paper and put it in the pocket of my suit, smiling brightly. Zaniel appeared taken aback by my expression.

“Tell Lucifer we happily accept,” I said.

Zaniel schooled his expression back to neutral. I got the sense that he was disappointed, that he had hoped for more protest from me. That made me wonder why.

Was he looking for an opportunity to pick a fight with me? And if so, was that fight sanctioned or encouraged by Lucifer for some reason? Or was the messenger willing to go off the reservation in order to exact revenge for his mother’s death? This was why I hated dealing with the fallen. I usually ended up with a migraine.

“I will express your acceptance to Lord Lucifer,” Zaniel said, and turned away, his back stiff and straight.

Nathaniel and I watched him go. He went to the corner near Pearson and Michigan. A black limousine seemed to appear out of nowhere. Zaniel climbed in and the limo pulled into traffic on Michigan, heading south.

“Why didn’t he take a portal?” I asked.

“Perhaps he wished to do so in a more unobtrusive place,” Nathaniel said. “There are many potentially curious people in this area.”

“No,” I said, staring in the direction the car had gone. “That’s not it. Why not slip into an alley? He’s taking the car because he’s meeting with someone else.”

Nathaniel looked troubled. “Sokolov?”

I nodded. “He’s the only big player left here besides Alerian. And I can’t imagine Lucifer sending that boy to deal with Alerian.”

Nathaniel gave me a small smile. “That ‘boy’ is several thousand years older than you. Ariell’s affair with Lucifer long predates Lucifer’s original relationship with Evangeline.”

“It doesn’t matter how old he is,” I said. “For someone who’s been around for a while, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Alerian would eat him alive.”

“Perhaps that is what Lucifer wants. Perhaps he is going to meet Alerian.”

“Clearing the board of his less-favorite offspring to make room for the new one? It doesn’t seem likely. Lucifer is fanatical about anyone with the same blood as his. It seems more likely that Zaniel is going to meet Sokolov. If he’s going to meet Sokolov, I want to know why.”

“It would also be helpful to know whether he is meeting at Lucifer’s behest or another’s,” Nathaniel said.

“I can’t imagine what Lucifer would have to say to Sokolov,” I said. “But it seems like Zaniel is too much of a bit player to have the power or authority to go to the Agency on his own. There could only be one topic of conversation, anyway.”

“You,” Nathaniel said.

“Not that I think I’m the center of the universe or anything,” I said hastily.

“No, it is logical that any discussions with the Agency would involve you,” Nathaniel said. “Who could direct Lucifer’s son against you if not Lucifer himself?”

“Zaniel doesn’t seem to like me very much,” I said. “A smart person could play on that emotion easily.”

“Which smart person?”

“Take your pick,” I said. “I have too many enemies to try to narrow it down without more information. Too bad J.B. is away trying to be a good king. He might be able to get some extra information for me if he was actually in the office. It’s really bizarre that he’s not there. He spends more time sleeping at his desk chair than he does in his own bed.”

“At the very least he would be able to confirm our speculation that the messenger is going to the Agency.”

“Yeah,” I said. “We might as well head home and see if Jude and Samiel turned up any information on that shapeshifter.”

As I spoke I realized something was buzzing in my pocket. I pulled my cell phone out, surprised I’d even remembered to bring it. Then I reasoned I likely had not remembered, but that Daharan had known I would forget and put it in the pocket of the suit. The screen told me it was J.B.

“Hey,” I said. “I was just talking about you. I thought you didn’t think it was a good idea for us to talk while you were playing King of the Fae.”

“I’m not playing,” J.B. said. “Don’t you even say hello anymore? Your conversational skills are actually getting worse as you get older.”

“I can’t help it. I graduated from the Beezle school of interpersonal relationships. If I let you talk first, then I might have to suffer slings and arrows against my character.”

“I didn’t call to listen to you mangle Shakespeare,” he said.

“Is that from Shakespeare?” I asked. “I had no idea.”

“Not really,” he said. “Hence the mangling. I called because a messenger just showed up in my court. A messenger from Lucifer.”

“Let me guess. He gave you an invitation and ‘no’ was not an acceptable RSVP response,” I said.

“He gave me an invitation, but I wasn’t foolish enough to say no,” J.B. said. “I’m sure you were.”

I decided to ignore that comment because it annoyed me that I was so predictable.

“I wonder who else was invited,” I said.

“Everyone who’s ever come to Lucifer’s attention, I imagine.”

“Which would include those who’ve crossed him,” I said. “Why tempt fate by gathering your enemies in one place?”

“I’m sure he’s got something up his sleeve besides marrying Evangeline,” he said. “If I hear anything before Saturday, I’ll let you know.”

“Speaking of hearing things—have you got anyone you trust at the Agency that you can get in touch with?”

“Lizzie,” he said. Lizzie was his secretary. “And a couple of others. Why? Did you do something?”

“No,” I said. “Why does everyone always assume I’ve done something?”

“Your track record speaks for itself,” J.B. said. “Don’t make me start listing all the property you’ve destroyed.”

“Slings and arrows,” I muttered. “Anyway, I want to find out if the messenger who delivered the invite from Lucifer to me went to see Sokolov. And if he did, I’d love to know if he went there on his own or under somebody’s orders.”

“I’ll see if I can find out anything. See you in a few days.” He clicked off.

I looked at Nathaniel. “You heard all that, so there’s no need for a recap, right?”

Ever since Nathaniel had come into his legacy from Puck, he had super-werewolf-like hearing. He nodded in acknowledgment. “J.B. is certainly correct. Lucifer will doubtless invite all his allies and enemies to this event.”

“I notice you didn’t say ‘friends,’” I said.

“In all his long history, the closest thing Lucifer ever had to a friend was Michael,” Nathaniel said.

“The archangel,” I said. “I wonder if he will be invited.”

By silent and mutual consent we walked to a semi-secluded spot where we could veil ourselves from human eyes and fly home.

“I do not think you should concern yourself excessively with Lucifer’s wedding,” Nathaniel said. “As you told the messenger, there are other, more pressing issues at hand, including Alerian’s anger with your defiance. I am concerned about the stress you are under in your condition.”

“I’m pregnant, Nathaniel. I’m not dying,” I said.

“You are a human on the verge of giving birth to a child of mixed and extremely powerful origins. I believe you are underestimating what changes this baby has wrought in your body. All I suggest is taking each problem as it presents itself and not worrying about what may happen on Saturday at this time.”

“But what if Lucifer is collecting all his known associates in one place so he can squash them in the most efficient manner possible?”

“You need not worry. If Lucifer were to do such a thing, your life would no doubt be spared,” he said.

I frowned at him, knowing he could see my face despite the veil. “You think it would make it okay if I lived even if everyone else died?”

“All I am attempting to say is that Lucifer would not permit harm to come to you.”

“Yeah, as long as I’m carrying the little prince,” I said. “After that I’ll be just as expendable as anyone else.”

“I know you do not wish to hear this, but if you had accepted Lucifer’s protection in the first place . . .”

“I’m not going to have this argument with you. Again.”

“Very well,” Nathaniel said, but I could tell he didn’t want to let it go.

Beezle had made the same argument once I’d discovered I was pregnant. Both of them seemed to think I would be safer with Lucifer. But I didn’t think it was a good idea to stay in such close quarters with the Prince of Darkness.

We landed on the lawn of the house. Everything seemed quiet and normal on the street. Our usual mail carrier was about half a block from my house, whistling as he jogged up porch steps to drop off catalogs and bills. I could hear the happy cries of kids released for recess at the school down the street.

For some reason, though, tension wound tight in my belly. Beside me Nathaniel appeared stiff and alert.

“Something’s coming,” I said.

He pushed me toward the house. “Get inside.”

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” I said. “No way.”

“Do not be stubborn for a change. For the love of the gods, let me protect you.”

I shook my head. “I’m not being stubborn. You hear those kids playing down the street? There’s no way I’m going to go inside and hide and let whatever’s coming take out its frustration on them. Enough innocents have died in this city.”

He did not argue anymore after that. We moved so that we were back-to-back, and waited.

There was still no sign of whatever was making us so tense. The mailman approached the house, working his way cheerfully down the block. I gave him a good hard stare, wondering whether he was the shapeshifter in disguise, but it didn’t do me any good. I didn’t have Beezle’s powers.

Beezle. Right. What was I thinking?

I pulled out my phone. Nathaniel gave me a startled look.

“You are making a phone call now?”

I dialed the house phone. After five rings the answering machine picked up. “Damn. Beezle must still be out with Samiel. But where’s Daharan? He’s usually at home all day.”

The mailman reached my front walk. He stopped whistling abruptly as he noticed us, tense-faced and ready for a fight.

“Um, good morning,” he said, sidling past us like whatever was wrong with us might be communicable.

“Morning,” I said through my teeth. The knot in my belly tightened. It was about to happen.

The mailman offered the rubber-banded bundle of envelopes to me. “Do you want to take it, or should I just leave it in the—”

I grabbed it from him and tossed the packet to the ground.

“—box,” he finished.

“Thanks,” I said. I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to leave
immediately
, before he was caught in the cross fire.

The mailman started to walk away, then stopped. “Are you by any chance the same Madeline Black who—”

“Alerian,” Nathaniel and I both said simultaneously.

The mailman appeared confused. “Alerian? I was going to ask about the vampires.”

“Get down!” I yelled just before the world seemed to explode.

There was no warning rumble, no indication that anything was going to happen. The grate flew off the sewer opening that was right in front of my house. The street seemed to cave in on itself before bursting outward, chunks of cement flying everywhere. I watched in horror as the pieces of the street crashed through the windows of people’s homes. And then the first tentacle emerged.

“What the hell is that?” the mailman screamed. “Just what in the hell is
that
?”

My sword was in my hand before I even considered what I was doing.

“Go in the house!” I shouted, hoping the mailman would have the sense to take cover in the foyer, but the man seemed paralyzed by fear.

I couldn’t blame him. I was feeling fairly paralyzed myself. A small, still-thinking part of my brain realized the gigantic tentacled sea creature rising from the rubble wasn’t Alerian himself but an avatar, a sending to do his dirty work.