“Just a shot in the dark, but I’m guessing he’s in Heaven.”
The old man nodded.
The circle jerk continued. “Maybe you haven’t been paying attention, but I don’t have any way to get in up there. They’ve revoked my passport.”
A crooked grin cracked the hard leather of his face. “You’d be surprised by what you’re capable of, Triggalt-”
My given name not even all the way out of his mouth, I waggled my finger and growled at him. “Don’t say it.”
He chuckled and took a step back, his arms raised in mock surrender. Then he stood there silent, just staring at me as though it were my turn.
“Is that it? No more words of wisdom, no prophecies to lead me? No bridges or beachfront property?”
He nodded again, his smile inching wider.
“You’re a snake oil salesman, you know that? You show up selling hope, but it’s all just bullshit and broken dreams.” He hadn’t told me a damn thing that would help. “What about the key parts? Can you at least tell me where I can find them?”
“Do you not want the same thing as those who hold the other pieces?”
The obvious hit me between the eyes like a brick. Akrasiel just laughed at me and bowed, disappearing in a flash of golden light.
The old bastard was right. We did want the same thing. Both the Nephilim and the were-critters were looking to get into Heaven just like us. That meant the key pieces had to end up at the gate soon for them to be any use. Now all I had to do was figure out how to take advantage of that fact. Clearly that would be the easy part.
Yeah right.
Presuming the two groups were quicker on the draw than me-which is pretty much a given-they would be prepared to defend their piece and had probably worked out a plan to relieve everyone else of theirs. So, while it was an opportunity I hadn’t thought about before, it wasn’t much of one. It would put us smack dab in the middle of both factions, and that was the last place I wanted to be.
My head running in circles, the remnants of the alcohol still tripping it up, I needed to sober up and think. The melancholy having eased just enough to let a glimmer of sunlight through, I headed off to find a portal back to DRAC. This problem needed a greater mind than mine.
Caught up in my head, I didn’t notice the car that pulled alongside me until I heard the distinctive clack of a bullet being chambered. Before I could look to see who it was, the cold steel of a gun barrel was pressed hard against my skull. There wasn’t even a tremble in the manicured hand that held it.
“If you so much as breathe, Mister Trigg, you’re dead.”
Chapter Fifteen
Someone behind me yanked my pistol roughly out of my waistband with no regard for the wedgie he’d given me. His rapids huffs warmed my nape.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it was from the smooth voice of the gun wielder and the gorilla breath of his helper wilting the hair on my neck.
“Hi, Poe. There a problem?”
“Fuck this!” D’anatello’s voice rang out over my shoulder and I cringed. To no surprise, I felt the grip of my own pistol crash into my skull.
Dots of light flickered in my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was hugging the ground. There was a heated conversation happening overtop of me, but the words didn’t make sense. They buzzed and hissed incoherently. Blinking tears away, I peeled my face off the asphalt and rolled over to see Poe and Marcus had finished their argument and stood there glaring at me. Poe held two guns, one in each hand. One of them was pointed quite rudely at my face.
Marcus started to say something, but Poe silenced him with a low growl and a withering look. His eyes flickered with malevolent red energy. He turned his stare on me and my subconscious mind immediately starting flipping through the Rolodex of my memories to see if it could remember having done anything to make him mad since I’d seen him last. I couldn’t recall.
“I can’t believe you, Trigg.” He’d dropped the ever-present mister. He was seriously pissed. “I let you in to see Asmoday so you could stop the storms, not so you could exact vengeance for your cousin. I thought we had an understanding.”
My brain addled from the blow, not to mention the five bottles of Jack Daniels, I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Huh?” I majored in smooth. Admittedly, my test scores really weren’t that high.
Poe dropped down beside me and pressed the barrel hard against my cheek. The lines of his face were drawn tight, the tiny slits of his eyes like murder holes. “Don’t play stupid. Why did you kill Asmoday?”
The words ricocheted around inside my head for a few seconds before finally striking home. “I…” I had to work hard to think back, drawing my memories of our encounter to the forefront. “Wait. What do you mean? I didn’t-”
Poe leaned in closer, his weight on the gun grinding into my face. His eyes flickered back to their normal ice blue. He stared into me. “Tell me why you killed him.”
“I didn’t touch him,” I gasped, my tongue finally finding enough traction to spit out my thoughts. “He was alive when I left.”
He just stared at me for a minute, no hint of mercy on his face. The barrel felt like a cattle brand against my skin as he held it there. At last, he pulled the pistol away and stood, drawing in a deep breath. It reminded me to breathe too.
“Don’t let him trick you. Shoot that demon son of a bitch,” Marcus howled as he stomped back and forth in a tight circle. “He used us, and now Baalth will-”
Poe glanced over at Marcus and finally let his breath out. “Do you think me so incompetent?”
As a mentalist of amazing power, perhaps even more so than DRAC’s Michael Li, Poe might not be able to read my mind, but he sure could tell whether I was lying. He knew for absolute fact I hadn’t been the person to kill Asmoday.
Probably just realizing what he’d implied, Marcus stopped pacing and swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean-”
Poe didn’t give him time to finish, cutting him off with a wave of a pistol. “He’s telling the truth, Mister D’anatello. He didn’t kill Asmoday.” He slid his gun into his holster beneath his suit jacket, and then held his free hand out to me. “The most likely suspect proven innocent, it makes finding his murderer more difficult. I assume your cousin was with you after you left.”
A bit tentative, I locked onto Poe’s hand and he pulled me up. “Yeah she was, until about a half hour ago.”
He nodded as he spun my gun in his hand and passed the grip to me. “I apologize for our presumption, but after your earlier visit, you have to understand our suspicion.”
Seeing how Scarlett tried to skewer Poe, I couldn’t really hold it against him. I shoved my pistol back into my pants and yanked my underwear out of my ass. “We’re good. Now tell me what happened?”
“It’s best we do it on the way.” He snapped his fingers at Marcus who hopped in the driver’s seat and slammed the door, looking like a beaten puppy. Once the gorilla was inside, he motioned me to the car.
I climbed in on the other side of the sedan and slid deep into the comfortable leather seat. The base of my skull pounded out a tribal rhythm as Poe got in the back beside me, Marcus taking off the second the door was shut.
“The storms worsening, I’d gone to speak with Asmoday in the hopes of pressing him for information. The moment I’d arrived in his chambers it became clear something was wrong.” He took a second to regulate his breathing. “The smell of fresh blood and burnt meat filled the chamber. I found him on the floor. He had been torn apart.” He gave me an apologetic half-shrug. “With no way into his quarters except through the gate, which is synched to only me, I have no idea how it happened.”
