him.
His dim-witted tank of a partner, on the other hand…
Marcus D’anatello sat at the back of the room, his eyes on the floor, his bald head a rosy pink. The last time I’d seen the hulking bruiser, I’d saved his life. Of course I beat him halfway to death while doing it, but that’s beside the point.
He fidgeted in his chair, his knuckles a bright white as he clenched his fists in his lap. He obviously didn’t want anything to do with me.
Too bad. That only egged me on. “Where’s he at, Marcus?”
“Unavailable, Mister Trigg.” Poe stepped between us, his words fierce but still composed. “Time for you to leave.” He gestured to the door where Scarlett stood, her arms overlapped in front of her chest.
Meeting Poe’s steely gaze, I saw his eyelid twitch subtly. He was brushing me off. There was more going on than he was telling me. I looked past him to the weakest link. “Tell me where he is.”
Marcus shook his head, the muscles in his jaw clenched in a visible knot. Poe told me to leave again, but I ignored him.
“Don’t make me come over there, Marcus. Tell me.”
“We don’t fucking know, all right?” Marcus screamed as he jumped to his feet. He looked ready to explode, his face a deep shade of red.
Poe snarled and Marcus dropped back into his seat with a graveled huff. Poe glared at me with open hostility, and I realized what Marcus said was true; they had no idea where Baalth was.
“He just up and disappeared?”
Poe stood there without answering, the vein at his temple throbbing as though he were sending a message in Morse code. I stayed quiet as well, meeting his withering gaze. At last, he sighed and his eyes dropped away as though letting go of a burden that had been too heavy to bear. He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair and gave a shallow nod.
“When?”
“About a week, now.” He went around the desk and sunk into Baalth’s chair. He stared down at his hands. “He’d sent us on an errand and when we returned, he and Veronica were gone. He left no word as to where he was going or when he’d be back. He gave no operating directives.” Poe met my eyes once more, his calm expression returning. “Outside of Mister D’anatello and I, only you two know he is gone.”
The warning was clear. Baalth’s presence was a major factor in minimizing the supernatural hijinks in the area since God and Lucifer sauntered off for parts unknown. Only the bravest, or dumbest, stirred up trouble anywhere near the demon’s territory. If word got out he was missing, all Hell would break loose-literally.
“He picked a great time to go on walkabout. You hear about Heaven?”
Poe nodded. “Our network is still in place, so our information lines remain constant. Though without Baalth, our resources to respond are limited.”
“What about The Gray?” I hated the redneck, Santa Claus lookalike, but there was no denying he had the power to go toe-to-toe with angels. He’d done it before. We could use him.
“Unfortunately, Mister McConnell has yet to recover from our adventure in Limbo. Were he to summon his magic, it would kill him.”
Torn between laughing at The Gray’s misfortune and sighing at ours, I chose the latter. The already short list of help was getting shorter by the minute, and we were running out of time. I could be a vindictive ass later. “You know anything about the weird storm that hit the city?”
Poe shook his head. “None of our sources have seen anything like it before, nor do they have any idea what might have caused it.” He leaned back, rubbing at his chin. “No, that’s not entirely truthful. There is one who might know something, though he would never deign to tell me. Perhaps he might be more willing to speak to you.”
“Who?”
“Asmoday.”
Scarlett hissed and pushed past me, nearly knocking me over. The wounds on my back burned as her elbow dug into them. I clenched my teeth to keep from screaming.
“Where is he? I’ll cut the answers from his entrails, I’ll-”
Poe raised a warning hand. “He is under Baalth’s protection.”
While that might have deterred me, Scarlett was 100 percent Old Testament when it came to revenge; an eye for an eye. Actually, she was probably closer to 130 percent. She’d go for a limb too, while she was at it.
Worse still, when it came to Asmoday, she was harboring some serious hate. Not too long ago, the Archangel Gabriel had captured her and handed her over to the demon lieutenant. Chained with manacles that inhibited her power, she was helpless until I came along and freed her. She was probably madder about that last part than anything.
Given the opportunity, she’d take a piece of Asmoday home with her; one of the warm and juicy ones. It’d be dangling over her fireplace by nightfall.
“Where is he?”
Shaking his head, Poe looked to me. “Not with her here. Baalth will have our heads if any harm comes to Asmoday.”
She drew her sword and leaned over the desk, setting the tip at Poe’s narrow throat. “Tell me or I’ll have your head right here and now!”
Marcus jumped to his feet with a growl. “Put the sword away, bitch!” He aimed his gun at Scarlett. It was one of my old ones, stolen from me a while back, and it was loaded with DA slayers. Things were spiraling out of control fast.
As unnatural as it was to be the voice of reason, I had to step in.
“I know how you feel, Scarlett, but this isn’t helping. Poe would die rather than betray his master, and I would bet my balls that Marcus has no idea how to reach Asmoday.” A confirming smile flashed across Poe’s lips as Scarlett glared, her sword arm steady. “Your people need your help. Would you condemn them for the sake of petty revenge?”
She stood rigid, the point of her blade drawing a dot of blood from Poe’s throat.
“Damn you.” At last she relented, a quiet sob slipping from her. She covered her mouth and stumbled back into the wall, sheathing her sword with a clack. Tears welled from her eyes as she crumbled into a ball on the floor, hugging her knees.
Relief colored Poe’s face and he sunk deeper into the chair, his hand massaging his throat. He waved Marcus away with the other. Sweat trickling down his face, the bruiser holstered his gun and stormed out of the room without so much as looking back. So far, that was the best thing to happen all day.
“I’ll take you to him, but she stays here,” Poe said, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an answer.
I glanced at Scarlett, her body trembling as she rocked back and forth. The guilt card played without mercy, I couldn’t help but feel bad for her.
A sensitive soul, Scarlett suffered the slings and arrows of life far deeper than most. She couldn’t imagine hurting those she loved and I’d laid it out for her in graphic detail, setting the full weight of blame for what might happen on her shoulders; the image was too much for her to bear. I watched her for a moment longer, her body trembling in time with her tears, then nodded to Poe.
“Fair enough.” I turned to Scarlett. “Stay put. I’ll find out what we need to know and be right back.” She didn’t bother to look at me. “We’ll save Heaven, I promise.” The words sounded hollow, but they seemed to work. She glanced up at me, her reddened eyes daring to hope. I had to look away.
A plastic smile covered my lips until I’d followed Poe out of the room and down a short hall, where it cracked and fell away. We wound our way through a minor maze of rooms and doors until we hit the basement. Inside, the gentle glimmer of power hung in the air. A small, simple pentagram was etched inside a circle on the concrete floor, its lines drawn in gold. Poe gestured to it.
“Hop in, Mister Trigg. I’ll direct the gate.”
The need for expediency outweighing trust, I stepped into the circle without question and held my breath. In what was a telling moment, Poe closed his eyes and I sensed the subtle waves of energy that emanated from him, triggering the gate.
As the dimensional vortex whisked me away, I stared at Poe until he faded from sight, my mind whirling. He’d never shown any inclination toward magic before. Though operating a portal isn’t exactly high-end craft, it took a
