She kicked me. Hard.
“How dare you give away Heaven.” She pulled her fist back to finish the job.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there.” I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m not giving anything away. Help me out, Katon.”
The enforcer walked to my cousin’s side and stared down at me. He didn’t look any more inclined to listen than she did. Rachelle came up behind them, and peeked around. It was hard to tell if she meant to rescue me or just watch.
“If you’ll stop beating me, I’ll explain.”
Scarlett growled, but she relented and slowly lowered her fist.
I climbed to my feet. “We don’t stand a chance against either army, let alone both. We got lucky here because they underestimated our abilities.” I pointed to the remaining members of DRAC who stood huddled together like refugees from a liberated concentration camp. “That won’t happen the next time. If the were-critters are busy fighting the Nephilim though, we can sit back and pick our moment.”
“Doing what?”
“Stealing the key out from under them.”
Scarlett drew in a deep breath and let it out slow as if I was starting to make some kind of sense to her. It’s happens every once in a while. “How?”
I nodded toward the mystic. “With Rachelle able to open a portal pretty much anywhere, we wait until the pieces are together, then port there and hit whoever has it with everything we’ve got.” A toothy smirk on my face, I continued. “Once we have it, we open the gate to Eden and make a mad dash for it, key in hand. As soon as we’re in, Uriel can seal Eden behind us to keep the rest of the clowns out.”
It was obvious Scarlett liked the idea, but she wasn’t sure. Katon voiced his concerns and Scarlett’s as well, no doubt.
“We’re not much in the way of reinforcements. Are you thinking we can turn the tide against Gabriel?”
“No, not really.” Scarlett started to complain, but I cut her off. “There is someone who can and he’s already there; Metatron.”
Scarlett whistled, a bemused smile crossing her lips. “I always knew you were crazy, but this plan of yours confirms it. Metatron has been comatose since God left.” The smile melted away as her voice hardened. “He couldn’t be bothered to help when Gabriel and Michael were slaughtering angels at the very heart of Heaven, so what makes you think he’ll care if a few more die?”
“You don’t think we can wake him?” I’d hoped for some optimism.
Scarlett shook her head, a tear rolling down her pale cheek. “It would take the return of God to draw him from his emotional slumber.”
That wasn’t gonna happen, but I couldn’t think of anything else we could do. “Do you have a better plan?”
Rachelle stayed quiet as Scarlett shook her head. I looked to Katon, who stared at the ground.
Sighing, I climbed up on my soapbox. “Look, I don’t want to die, but if I have to, I’d rather do it thinking we had a chance. Even if that chance is as slim as me getting to sleep with Megan Fox, it’s got to be better than nothing. The last thing I want to do is sit around and mope until the Winter Wonderland of Death comes to wipe me out of existence. Is that how you want to die?”
Katon raised his chin and met my eyes. There was fire there. “I’m in.”
Scarlett grinned at his approval and nodded. “If there is a chance I can spill Gabriel’s blood then I’m in as well.”
Rachelle just smiled. I’d probably have to remind her of what we decided later, but for now, her smile was good enough for me.
“Hey, Rachelle, I need a lift.”
“Where are you going?” Katon asked.
Scarlett looked at me, the same question etched across her face.
“I need to do a couple of things, plus I have to get Eve. Besides, somebody needs to tell the weres they’re invited to the shindig. You can’t trust those party animals to show up on time.” I smiled and waved. “Stay here and get the troops ready. I’ll be back in a bit.”
While Rachelle whipped up a portal, I grinned. “Take me to Hell.”
Chapter Seventeen
After a few minutes spent digging around in Hell, I’d rounded up Eve and confirmed a hunch. Finished with that, I used the gate in Asmoday’s cell to pop into Baalth’s office. Poe met me with a gun aimed at my head.
“I’m either experiencing deja vu or we’ve done this before.”
Poe growled and lowered his weapon. “You’ve been gone for hours. I was getting ready to come after you. What happened?”
“Got a little distracted. Oh, and I’d advise against using the gate anytime soon. In fact, I’d suggest locking it down. Turns out, you’ve got a pretty big varmint infestation down there.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Varmint?”
“Varmint, dread fiend, same thing.”
He stared at me a moment, no doubt waiting for the punch line. When he realized there wasn’t one, he sent a spike of mystical will toward the pentagram to seal the gate. Sparks glimmered along the golden lines and the lights flickered for second, then the star turned black. Finished, he turned back to me.
“Are they what killed Asmoday?”
Unsure if I should tell him about the empty case, I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
His eyes narrowed at my answer, but he didn’t say anything. Having not been definite, even though I doubted the fiends had butchered Asmoday, he couldn’t get a bead on my true feelings.
Before he could start asking more questions, I got to my reason for being there. “Hey, you got plans for tonight?”
He looked at me and I swear I saw a flash of red color his cheeks before his mask of neutrality washed it away. “You’re asking me why, Mister Trigg?”
A once in a lifetime opportunity in my grasp, I bit my tongue and let it slip away. Damn. “We’re a little short on the Save the World Committee and I was hoping we could enlist your help.”
He swallowed deep before he answered, “What do you have in mind?”
“We’ll be storming Heaven a little later, and if you don’t have anything better to do, we’d appreciate your assistance.”
He sighed, knowing full well I was serious. “I’ll clear my calendar.”
I told him we’d swing by and pick him up when everything was in place, making it clear I didn’t want Marcus tagging along. That done, I headed for the house.
A hop, skip, and a teleport later, I was home. Chatterbox greeted me with happy giggles as I entered the living room, bouncing up and down on the table beside the couch. The TV was on and Dawn of the Dead screamed from the screen. A quick flick of the remote dropped the volume to a reasonable level.
Both Chatterbox and I grumbled at the same time, though for different reasons. He complained because I’d turned the movie down. I was annoyed because the remote was covered in zombie tongue-slime. He got the better end of the deal.
“You can turn it back up in a bit,” I said to keep him quiet, my hand unconsciously wiping the slimy, gray- green nastiness off on my pant leg.
The screams and howls of the dying and undead-those on the screen and those in my house-muted well enough I could think again, I headed for my room when there was a sudden, loud knock on my front door. Chatterbox and I whipped our heads toward the door at the same time. The security camera monitor in the foyer was filled with static, so I couldn’t see who was outside. It got me thinking.
Neck deep in paranoia, I pulled my gun out and let my senses loose. It’s not like I expected my current crop
