“Gabriel Angeloscuro.”
Damn, his voice was sexy. The wing scars on my back were tingling and all he’d done was say his name. I felt like a quivering maiden in a romance novel.
“Mr. Angeloscuro, this is Madeline Black. I’m calling about the apartment?”
“Yes, Ms. Black?”
“Your application was accepted, so if you’d like to come by and drop off a deposit and first month’s rent, I can give you the keys. You can move in anytime.”
“Is today at four P.M. an acceptable time?”
“Yes, that would be fine. See you then.” I hung up before he could speak again. Three minutes of conversation with him made me want to run for the shower and turn the water to icy cold.
Beezle glared at me as I placed the phone in the cradle. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Maddy.”
“Getting some income, that’s what I’m doing.”
“At what price?” he asked.
“Beezle, if there’s something really wrong with Gabriel, then why don’t you tell me what it is instead of making these ringing pronouncements of doom?”
He threw his clawed hands up in disgust and flew out the window, presumably to return to his nest over the front porch. I put Beezle’s mood swings out of my mind as I contemplated my next move. I needed to get into the Hall of Records. In order to do that, I needed a pass, because my level of clearance didn’t give me authorization. In order to get a pass, I needed to kiss J.B.’s ass. Right. Not in this century.
That left less-than-legal means of entry. I was pretty sure that I didn’t have an undiscovered talent for breaking and entering. I’m very much on the clumsy side and I didn’t know the first thing about lock-picking or avoiding security equipment. What I did know was a very powerful witch who lived in Lincoln Square who could sell me an amazing concealment charm that would help me get in and out of the Hall undetected.
I gave her a quick call and she agreed to have one ready for me the next day at a rather exorbitant price. It was a good thing that Gabriel was coming by with a rent check.
My investigation seemed stalled until I could get into the Hall, and I didn’t want to pace the house and think about the creature when I couldn’t do anything about it right then. I decided to spend the afternoon working on pear recipes for my article. In order to bring in a little income I work as a freelance food writer and recipe developer, selling articles to different magazines. Agents who work directly for the bureaucracy, like J.B., pull in a regular paycheck, but everyone else is on their own.
My Agent status prohibited me from getting a job that required regular hours. As with dating, a boss probably wouldn’t understand if I rushed out in the middle of a departmental meeting. Most Agents find jobs with flexible hours or work from home, the way I do.
For the next few hours I put all thoughts of Gabriel, Beezle and the possibly soul-sucking monster out of mind and lost myself in the kitchen. When I next looked up, the buzzer was ringing insistently and it was four o’clock already.
“Crap.” I had meant to quit working a half hour before Gabriel arrived. I wanted to have the new lease printed out and everything ready to go for him.
I yanked off my apron as the doorbell continued to sound and hurried to the stairs instead of buzzing him up. Beezle was nowhere to be seen, which surprised me because I figured he’d be lurking around to glower at Gabriel while the lease was signed.
I pushed open the door at the bottom of the stairs, expecting to see Gabriel standing in the foyer. Instead, J.B. stood just outside the exterior door. He gave a little finger wave when he saw me. I could hear my buzzer still ringing upstairs although he stood outside on the porch and the doorbells were inside.
“Must be broken,” I mumbled as I pulled open the exterior door. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I take that to mean you aren’t happy to see me,” J.B. said.
“Am I supposed to be?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Have you come to apologize for being a total jackass today?”
He smiled winningly. “I’m sorry for being a total jackass.”
I pushed away from the door and gaped at him. “Are you sick? Maybe take a wee too much cough syrup?”
“No, why?” he said, continuing to beam. His smile was a little disconcerting. He looked like a game show host.
“I’ve never heard you apologize for anything to anyone. I might need to send out an interdepartmental memo to commemorate the occasion.”
He spoke in a low, confidential tone. “Look, Maddy, I really need to talk to you. Can I come in for a little bit?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. Something was wrong here. J.B. never smiled, he never apologized and he never, ever called me Maddy. I shifted my weight, considering him, and that was when I saw Beezle. His little body was crumpled facedown on the porch a few feet behind J.B.
“Beezle!” I cried, and shouldered J.B. aside, kneeling on the peeling wood of the porch. I lifted the gargoyle very gently in my hands and turned him over. There was no visible sign of damage on him but his breathing was very shallow.
“Well, I was trying to get inside, but having you outside is an acceptable substitute,” J.B. said behind me, and he kicked me in the side of the face.
5
STARS EXPLODED AS I TUMBLED DOWN THE PORCH stairs and onto the walkway. A metallic taste filled my mouth and I spat blood as I rolled to my back. I could feel more blood dribbling down my chin. I’d lost Beezle during my gymnastics routine and I tried to sit up, groping the ground for him.
“What the fuck?” I said to J.B. as he walked slowly down the stairs toward me. His eyes were alight with madness.
“Oh, little girl, if you knew how long we have been seeking you,” he said, and his voice was very, very different from J.B.’s voice.
He didn’t look very much like J.B. either. The irises of his eyes had expanded to cover all the white, and changed from J.B.’s bottle green to a fiery orange-red. The pupils slitted, and his teeth . . . Well, suddenly he seemed to have far too many and each one was far too sharp.
He stepped over and kicked me in the face again. I whimpered as my head slammed to the pavement. I wondered listlessly where my neighbors were. It was after four o’clock. Weren’t people supposed to be on their way home from work and school? Why was everyone just letting this thing beat the crap out of me in the middle of the street?
The thing-that-was-not-J.B. bent over me, yanked me up by a handful of my sweater and put J.B.’s face close to mine. I could smell brimstone on its breath.
“I will be honored above all others once I bring my master your heart,” he said, showing me a strange sigil that was burned into his other hand. The sigil looked like an ampersand with the bottom loop cut off halfway.
All I could muster at that moment was some spit and bravado, so I hocked a mess of blood on his face. “Sorry, bud. Whoever sent you here is going to be disappointed because I’m keeping my heart right where it is.”
“Whoever sent me? You mean you do not know the sign of my master, Focalor?”
“Why would I know another freak like you?” I asked, and kneed him in the balls.
He dropped me to the ground and yowled in pain, which accomplished what I had wanted—to be released. Unfortunately, the abrupt landing also made my head explode, so I was unable to take advantage of the opportunity to get away before it grabbed me again.
“Can it be?” he hissed, and his saliva spattered on my face. My skin burned where the moisture touched it. “You do not know your father is the sworn enemy of my master?”
