Knight's Curse (17 page)

Barachiel refocused on me. “You called me here for
him?
”

Holding my head high, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I’d called him for Gavin because he’d ordered me to, but I also wanted to see him for myself. I needed proof that I still had one parent left, be it human or otherwise. Instead of answering Barachiel’s question, I asked one of my own. “Why did you hurt my mother?”

“Chalice, that’s enough,” Gavin scolded, sounding both annoyed and angry. “We didn’t bring him here for you to argue with him about your mother—”

“Silence!” Barachiel’s voice shook the walls like the boom from a cannon. “Your business proposition can wait.
My
business is with my daughter.”

“You say that as if you care,” I said, my rapidly beating heart making my voice shake. “You feel as much for me as you did for my mother, which is absolutely nothing.”

“Felicia was very dear to me.” He laid both his enormous hands on my shoulders and bent forward to gaze into my eyes. “I was once her Guardian, her protector. That was my role until she asked me to father a new knight for the order.”

My eyes filled with hot tears of anger and I blinked them back. “That’s not what I am.”

He appeared confused. “You are my progeny, a knight in the Order of the Hatchet.”

I slapped his hands away. “Have you been living under a rock for the past twenty-five years?”

“I don’t understand. Did your mother teach you nothing?” He still looked puzzled, though his voice was edged with restrained rage.

My laugh sounded as bitter as I felt. “My mother is
dead!
”

The room went abruptly silent.

After a few seconds, Gavin cleared his throat. “We’ll give you anything you want, Barachiel. All I ask is that the gift of invisibility be granted to a few of our clients. You’ll be paid with the blood of virgin fey, have all the human women you want, live a luxurious life on the mortal plane if that’s more your style. Name your price and it’s yours.”

Understanding seemed to dawn on Barachiel at the same speed as Gavin’s sales pitch. His eyes turned from black to red, and tears the color of blood streamed down his cheeks. One foot still on the mirror, he faced Gavin and the others. Zee looked petrified, her eyes round with amazement, her lips parted in a small O of surprise. My breath caught when I saw that Aydin was no longer there.

His jaw tight with fury, Barachiel pointed at Gavin. “
You
killed Felicia.”

Gavin licked his lips. “It was necessary. She had something I wanted, something I needed. But she still got away from me and it took me thirteen years to find where she’d left it so that I could claim it for myself.”

My stomach turned as I realized the
it
he referred to was me.

I’d known Gavin had been responsible for my mother’s death, but it still hurt to hear. The memory of my abduction came racing back and I relived the sight of Father Thomas collapsing dead in front of me. I heard the thunder of machine-gun fire that followed. Barachiel gently clasped his hands to both sides of my head, his fingers hot instead of the cold marble he’d been a moment ago. His expression changed as he experienced my memories with me. Then his hand slid to the back of my neck, halting on my tattoo. My mark of shame.

Both his hands dropped away, but his eyes never lost their scarlet hue. He stared at Gavin again. “I can name my price?”

Looking eager, Gavin nodded like a bobblehead doll. “Anything.”

“I want my daughter. I want Chalice.”

Gavin sputtered. “Of course. She’s yours, with my blessing.”

Just like that? I wasn’t some poker chip that could be tossed on the bargaining table. I was a human being. I had rights! Or at least I did until I was cursed. Even so, I wasn’t Gavin’s to give.

Not one to be ignored in a deal that could potentially involve him, Shui hissed and flared his wings. He wasn’t ready to give me up. The two of us still had unfinished business, his being to make a meal out of me someday.

Gavin smiled. “Pay no attention to Shui.” He glared down at the gargoyle while sliding his hand inside his jacket. Shui’s eyes narrowed as he watched where his master’s hand settled. Then he went quietly still.

“Chalice wouldn’t stay my daughter for long though, is that right, Gavin Heinrich?” Barachiel glowered at the man who had literally ruled my life for the past twelve years. “How many hours does she have left before she shifts into a winged devil like that one?” He flicked a finger at Shui, a dismissive gesture as casual as swatting a fly.

He knew.
How could he know of the gargoyle’s curse? Even Gavin looked surprised.

“I’m not an idiot,” Barachiel told him. “These creatures have existed as long as I have, and so has their nefarious curse. But like a promise, the curse can be broken. Once the gargoyle is dead, the curse is broken.”

“I already know that,” I said softly, hope leaking from me like air from a deflating balloon. For a minute there, I’d actually believed he had the power to set me free. I’d never in my life felt so defeated. “But gargoyles are immortal.”

Carefully enunciating each word to ensure he made himself clear, Barachiel said, “Only until one kills the other.”

I could have sworn the dark angel actually smirked.

Barachiel shoved his hand out toward Gavin, palm open and fingers splayed. The air shifted like a wave in a pool. And as it did, all motion outside the circle abruptly stopped. Gavin was frozen midleap, Zee looked ready to join him and Shui had risen a foot off the floor while beating his wings to take flight. He hung suspended, going nowhere. Time outside the circle stood completely still.

Barachiel turned to me and said, “You can free yourself of the gargoyle’s curse.”

I nodded, giddy with this knowledge, but apprehensive about how to do what needed to be done. “There’s only one other gargoyle here that I know of.”

“It will do.”

“But what if Shui kills
him?
”

“The other one must win if you’re to be free.” He grabbed hold of my hand and held it gently between both of his. “I swear to you, Chalice, that I didn’t know what happened to your mother after she conceived.”

“You left us.”

“Only because I had to.” He heaved a sigh, his eyes finally going back to normal. Well, normal for him. It was like looking into orbs of black glass. “I was familiar with humans and their ways, and I refused to become one of them. The only other choice was this.”

“Which means you’re playing on the wrong side!”

He shook his head. “I’m still an angel.”

But he was a fallen angel, a dark angel, who served the enemy. I wasn’t okay with that. It was just…wrong.

“If you do fail at breaking the curse,” he told me, “there’s a way to reverse the change.”

“You mean a gargoyle can change back into a human?”

He nodded. “I doubt your Vyantara sorcerer knows this, but once you’ve changed you must eat the heart of the gargoyle you were bonded with in order to change back.”

Eat its heart?
“But a gargoyle turns to stone. How can a stone heart be eaten?”

“It can,” he said. “I’ve seen it done many times.”

I gazed at the frozen figures beyond the circle and lost my enthusiasm. “I’m their prisoner, Barachiel. I have no power over them. They control
me.
There’s no escape.”

“There is.” He tightened his hold on my hands and it didn’t hurt. His touch didn’t hurt my skin. Was it because he was my father? Or because he was an angel? “Leave the circle and run from this house. Run as fast and as far as you can until you reach someplace safe.”

“There’s no safe place for me to go.” Then I thought of Elmo’s. “Or maybe there is. But they’ll follow me!”

“They won’t.” He tossed a quick glance at Gavin. “I won’t let them.”

“What about you?”

He gazed at me with such tenderness that I could still see the angel he used to be. Then his expression melted into one of fierce determination. “I have a place to go.”

“The black veil?”

“No. Chalice, don’t believe everything you hear about us. The Fallen are not demons.”

“But if not the black veil, then where?”

“There’s no time to explain. Just know that I’ll come to you again.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. Now that his anger had cooled, his touch was like ice on my scalp. “No matter where you go, I will find you. I promise. Now go.”

“Now?”

“Now!”

He said it with such vehemence that the very volume of his voice propelled me across the pentagram and through the circle. I sped out the door, but glanced over my shoulder to see the air shimmer around Barachiel. His hold on time continued. His face looked strained, desperate. It was taking all his strength to maintain his grip on the suspended room. He jerked a nod and I ran.

I took the steps two at a time, racing up to the main level, then stopping in front of a tall grandfather clock on the main floor. It had stopped at 1:00 a.m., the second hand motionless. I looked around me to see dust motes hover unmoving in the beam of light cast by a Tiffany lamp on a table. A moth hung suspended in midflight. A ceiling fan had stopped rotating, the blades frozen within a blur of halted motion. Barachiel’s freezing of time continued to hold.

Gavin’s stone knife! I had to have it, and now would be my only chance to take it without him stopping me.

I turned and raced back down the stairs to the basement, then flew into the summoning room. Without looking at Barachiel, I thrust my hand inside Gavin’s jacket, feeling around the pocket until my fingers touched the solid surface of the knife. I tugged it free, clutched it in my fist, and sped out the door and back up the stairs. I don’t think I’d taken a breath by the time I reached the building’s main entrance. Just as I clasped the door’s handle, I felt time let loose. It was over. Barachiel’s spell broke and time rushed on.

I yanked the door toward me, but as I dove to cross the threshold, something grabbed hold of my ankle. Still hanging on to the door, I glanced down at the black claw digging into my flesh. I blinked and saw the rest of the demon’s body as it clung to me. This was the Maågan demon.

Its red eyes glared at me from a black face as creased as old tree bark. Adrenaline coursed through me with the force of a racing river and I hardly felt the skin on my ankle tear as the demon’s nails dug deeper. Gavin’s knife still clutched in my hand, I screamed and swung so it cut through the black hide of my assailant’s arm. It was like slicing a brick of warm butter. Instantly free, I lunged out the door with the demon’s severed limb still attached.

Limping quickly down the sidewalk, I turned to glance back at the house. It looked the same. I slipped an earplug from my ear and caught a chaotic flurry of voices, excited shouts, pounding footsteps, slamming doors. What the hell was going on in there? The noise infused my panic and my limp became a run. In spite of the bond I had with Shui, I had to get away from this place. Once at Elmo’s, I’d at least have some semblance of freedom, even if it was only temporary.

I’d run about two blocks when I felt a rumble beneath my feet. I looked behind me for just a second and saw the explosion that blew a good-size chunk from the roof of the Fatherhouse.

SMOKE AND FLAME FOLLOWED THE BLAST
. Then came the sirens. Had Gavin and the others made it out in time? Shui most certainly survived. Immortal gargoyles tended to do that.

Oh, my God. Aydin? There was no way he could have been inside when the building blew up. He’d left the summoning room before hell broke loose, and I hadn’t seen him in the house when I left. Surely he’d escaped. I couldn’t bear to think he hadn’t.

The flames rising from the building illuminated the streets, and crowds of residents wearing bathrobes and heavy jackets ventured out into the cold to watch the fire. All of them were so focused on the catastrophe that no one noticed a small, dark-haired woman with a limp running by.

As soon as I had the chance, I pried the Maågan’s bloodless and disembodied claw from my ankle and tossed the severed arm in the gutter. When it touched the ground it dissolved into a black stain on the snow.

It was hard to ignore my wound as I ran. It burned as if tainted with poison. My body felt hot all over and my mind flamed with fever. Where was Elmo’s Coffee Shop? Down this street? Or was it that one? They all looked the same. Every turn-of-the-century home I passed was covered by leafless climbers and thorny rose vines, the yards filled with holly bushes, blue spruces and skeletal cottonwood trees that hovered over snow-coated lawns.

I felt like a hound that had lost its scent. I crouched beneath a tree and removed my nose filters, seeking the aroma of coffee.

Within seconds, the strong scent of coffee and cinnamon took hold of me like a leash attached to my nose. I stumbled down one alley after another until I ended up in Elmo’s front yard. After hobbling down the basement steps, I limped through the tunnel, my naked eyes scouring the walls for an entrance. There was a thin line of light leaking out between the floor and the bottom of a door. The sign hanging outside said Closed.

Shit. I thought Elmo kept his shop open through the wee hours. I pounded on the door. “Elmo? You in there?”

I heard two voices on the other side of the door. One belonged to Elmo, and the other was… “Aydin? Oh, thank God you’re here. Let me in!”

The door opened and I fell inside.

“What happened?” Aydin asked as he dragged me up by the arms. “You’re bleeding. And your eyes—” His forehead creased with worry. “You have a fever.”

I held on to him as he steered me to one of Elmo’s spool tables. I sat and struggled to catch my breath while replacing both contact lenses over my stinging eyes. “Explosion. Fatherhouse.”

“We heard about it on the radio.” Elmo handed me a glass of water and I gulped it down. “They’re still putting out the flames.”

I gasped in a breath, my lungs feeling too small to fill with the oxygen I needed to talk. I pointed at my ankle. “Maågan.”

Aydin grimaced. “Nasty creatures. Coffee grounds work really well at drawing out the poison. How did you get out of the house?”

Once I was able to breath normal again, I told Elmo and Aydin what had happened with Barachiel. When they asked what had caused the explosion, I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I was already outside when it happened.” Though I wondered if the buildup of magic from the Vyantara’s collection had attributed to the cause.

“You’re lucky to be alive.” Elmo made a poultice of coffee grounds for my demon wound and wrapped a dish towel around my ankle to hold it in place. I started to feel better almost immediately. “It’s a good thing Aydin left when he did.”

“Where did you go?” I asked him.

“Come and I’ll show you.” He helped me up and I grabbed him around the waist to keep from falling over as he guided me to the small room behind Elmo’s kitchen.

There, lying faceup on the cot, was Quin’s body.

“What the hell?” This was the last thing I needed to see. “I thought he was to be cremated.”

“That was Gavin’s original plan, yes,” Aydin said. “I found out Quin was dead just before going to see Geraldine. When I told her what had happened to him, she said I should save his body. That his death was only temporary.”

“Are you saying he’s a zombie?” I envisioned a mindless, flesh-eating corpse. I’d encountered one in Haiti a couple of years ago and preferred not to repeat the experience. “If he is, we’ll have to chop off his head. That’s the only way to stop those things.”

“No one’s chopping off anyone’s head.” Aydin went on to explain how Geraldine had been immune to her executioner’s efforts at ending her life. “She kept coming back until they finally had to cut her into pieces and set fire to her entrails. They’d thought that was the end of her, but they were obviously wrong.” He swallowed and jerked a nod at the corpse on the cot. “Once the Arelim believe it safe for him to come back, Quin’s soul will return to his body.”

I sat in one of the two director-style chairs across from Quin’s corpse. My ankle still throbbed and I elevated it on a wooden box Elmo used as a nightstand. “When will that be?”

“Now that the danger is past, he should come back anytime now.”

We both gazed down at the angel whisperer’s body. His face was white as parchment, his lips pale violet with black scabs where they had split. Several contusions mottled his skin where Gavin had beaten him literally to death. If he lived, he’d be sore as hell for a few days unless miraculous healing was part of the bargain for playing on the good angels’ team.

“How did you get him here?” I asked. “I didn’t see the Hummer outside. Did you hide it around the block?”

Aydin shook his head. “Remember the harness I told you about? The one I use with Shojin?”

“You didn’t!”

“It was the only way to get Quin here without Gavin finding out.” He reached down and touched two fingers to the side of Quin’s neck, then shook his head. No change. “I intercepted the Hummer at the crematorium and then I, uh, convinced Gavin’s men to take a nap.”

And experience told me just how he’d done it, too. “So when you came to me at the summoning room, you’d already taken care of Quin.”

He nodded. “I managed to get him here, but there was more I had to do. That’s why I didn’t stay while you performed the ritual. I had to help Elmo get Quin’s body inside the shop. Shojin is a loyal friend, but he has his limitations. He’s not very agile on his feet.”

I shuddered. It still bothered me that Aydin had befriended his gargoyle. Even Barachiel had labeled gargoyles as “winged devils,” which I considered pretty damn demonic. Speaking of Shojin, it was time for me to break the big news.

“What is it?” Aydin asked me, one corner of his mouth lifting in a wary grin. “You look happy all of a sudden.”

I patted the chair next to me. “You should sit down for this.”

Frowning, he took a seat.

“I learned how to kill a gargoyle.”

He stared at me, unblinking.

“Use another gargoyle to kill it.”

Now he blinked.

I had expected a more exuberant reaction. I leaned forward to clarify my point. “Don’t you get it? That’s why gargoyles are always kept apart. If they fight, one will die, and the dead one’s bonded human will be freed. So we have to get our gargoyles to fight each other….” My shoulders slumped as I made a realization. “But only one dies, meaning only one of us would go free.”

Aydin licked his lips and looked away. “I don’t want to lose Shojin.”

This wasn’t going as planned. “Shojin can take Shui, you know he can. He’s twice his size.”

“And he’s centuries older, too, and not half as vicious.” Aydin stood and shoved both hands in his pocket. “He’s not as strong as he used to be.”

I couldn’t believe he was balking at this. My freedom was at stake, and so was his. He knew how much it meant to me, how desperately I wanted, no,
needed
to be free. Had he been a slave so long that he couldn’t tell the difference anymore? The Vyantara trusted him, allowed him to do whatever he liked, to go wherever he pleased, and his bond to his gargoyle had become more friendship than burden. Freedom didn’t mean as much to him as it did to me. “Aydin, I’m begging for your help. Where else can I find a gargoyle to fight Shui?”

He paced from one end of the little room to the other, a disturbing resemblance to Gavin. Thank heavens they were nothing alike. Aydin massaged his chin while looking pensive. “Hundreds of gargoyles exist throughout the world, but the majority are kept on Mahdi Island. It’s a deserted rock just off the coast of Yemen.”

Yemen? In the Middle East? That was way too far away, but I still had to ask. “Can you find one for me there?”

“Possibly.” He looked at me then, his gaze intense. “Only there isn’t time.”

I didn’t understand.

“Your cycle completes in two days. I doubt Shui will be too cooperative after you managed to burn down his house and kill all his friends.”

Shui couldn’t hold me responsible for what had happened to the Fatherhouse, though I’d happily take credit. The destruction of the house and the evil it contained was a boon for all things good in this world. “That wasn’t my fault.”

“But it was your father’s. Shui won’t see the difference.”

Knowing Shui, Aydin was right. “You can talk Shojin into fighting, can’t you? He’s a big, strong gargoyle, not a stocky monkey with wings like Shui. There’s no contest. And I bet Shojin would love to take a bite out of that ugly beast. Can you at least try?”

He gave me a sad smile and jerked a nod.

“Great!” My heart swelled with hope. “Where
is
Shojin?”

“The minute we heard about the Fatherhouse blowing up, I sent him to Quin’s house to lay low.”

“There’s a gargoyle in my house?” Quin’s voice sounded weak and froggy, but his British accent was crisp as ever.

As much as I would have liked to get up and give him a hug, my agonized ankle wouldn’t let me. I was incredibly happy to see him alive and amazed that his resurrection was even possible. I felt very thankful he hadn’t turned into a zombie. “Quin, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re back.”

He turned his head to see me better. “No thanks to you.”

Nothing like a grudge to kill the buzz of a welcome-back party. But I didn’t blame him. I was surprised he’d even speak to me at all. “I’m really sorry about everything. If I’d known how far Gavin would go, I’d have lied to him much sooner.”

Quin propped himself up on his elbows. “You summoned a fallen angel? And he’s your dad? The Arelim told me all about it, but I still think it’s nutters.”

Though thrilled to have him back, I didn’t like his tone. “You can’t fault me for who my parents are. It’s not like I was given a choice.”

He winced while trying to sit up. Aydin rushed to help him, and Elmo gathered up more pillows to support his back. “I know what you mean,” Quin said. “I wouldn’t be what I am today without the help of my family’s legacy. My gift isn’t always well received and it can be troublesome.” He frowned while glancing around the room, his lip drawn back from his teeth in distaste. “I never know where it will take me.”

“So you’re not mad?”

He tilted his head back and angled it side to side, the heel of his hand pushing his chin until his neck cracked. “Ah, better. Oh, I’m upset all right, but it’s that awful Gavin character I’m mad at. You’re right that I shouldn’t blame you.”

My shoulders slumped in relief, though I still felt guilty. If my lie to Gavin had come earlier, I could have saved him from enduring as much torture as he had. “Was it painful?”

He shook his head. “The Arelim put me in a trance. I felt nothing.” But he did now. His tongue ran over his bottom lip and he grimaced. “I take it the ritual went well, then?”

I nodded. “Barachiel came through, and he was terrific. Protective. And fierce. He even blew up the Fatherhouse.”

“Did he now?” Quin appeared mildly impressed, though he should have been astounded by my father’s power. On second thought, I had my own reservations about the mysterious dark angel. Barachiel would have to do a lot more than stop time and destroy my enemy to earn my trust. Where was he now? He had some explaining to do.

Quin’s face suddenly fell like a bad soufflé. “The hand.”

Oh, no.
Saint Geraldine’s other hand, the one we’d found in Quin’s workshop. I’d forgotten all about it.

“It’s sitting on my workbench.” He began to fidget, then started rummaging through the sheets and blankets. “Where are my clothes? I’ve got to hurry home. If the Vyantara get hold of it—”

“Relax,” Aydin said. “It’s right here.” He went to a wooden trunk in the corner and lifted the lid. Inside was the glass case containing the mummified hand.

Quin hissed out a relieved breath and sat back against the pillows again. “Thank you.”

I turned an adoring gaze on Aydin and my heartbeat picked up speed. The man was a wonder. Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I blinked away all signs of admiration and said to Quin, “We hid it inside the basement wall right after we found it.” Looking at Aydin, I asked, “You went back to get it?”

Aydin nodded. “I’ve been losing ground with the Vyantara for years. It was just a matter of time before someone figured out they had a traitor in their midst.” He threw back a canvas tarp that I had assumed was Elmo’s unique style of home decor. Beneath the heavy fabric were stacks of crates, boxes and trunks. They were the same ones that had been in the storage room inside Aydin’s house. Settled on top was the small wooden cube that held—

“Ruby!”

The top of the box flipped up and the thimble-size frog hopped out. She leapt into my open hands and chirped.

“Blimey.” Quin blinked. “Is it real?”

“She’s not a toy.” Aydin petted the bejeweled creature with his finger. “And she’s taken quite a shine to Chalice.”

The feeling was mutual.

“You take your personal possessions very seriously,” I said to Aydin. “Does it all have as much sentimental value as our little friend?”

“You could say that.” He replaced the tarp.

I glanced at Quin and did a double take. The bruises had lightened to a yellowish green and his split lips were already healed over. The scars looked good on him. It gave his handsome face more character.

“What else do you have stashed away, Quin?” I asked, having wondered that since the day we found Geraldine’s hand. “Any more body parts?”