“Thank you for the windows, J.B.,” I parroted.
“And thank you for these,” he said, tying the knot of my coat back together and slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know what I find. Don’t forget your pickup at two.”
“So that’s when it is,” I said. “You wouldn’t, uh, happen to know where it is, would you?”
He rolled his eyes and pulled the piece of paper with the information from his pocket. “I had a feeling.”
“I’ve never missed a pickup before,” I said, stung. I might have chaos around me at all times but I’d never failed in my duties as an Agent.
“You’ve never had a dead body in your basement before,” he said, leaning forward to kiss my cheek. I let him, because I do love J.B. Just not the way that I love Gabriel.
Gabriel stiffened and J.B. smiled. “See you around, Black.”
It was only after he left that I realized he’d taken my winter coat with him.
I sighed, locked the door and turned to see Beezle fluttering in the air with a hopeful look on his face.
“I don’t have time to go to the restaurant before the window guys get here,” I said. “I’ll make your cinnamon rolls from scratch.”
Beezle grinned. “I don’t care how I get them, as long as I get what I want.”
I thought of Lucifer and the Grigori, and every other creature around me that seemed to stop at nothing until they’d achieved their aims. “Yeah, you and everybody else.”
8
BY DINNERTIME I HAD A REPAIRED APARTMENT, A COMPLETED soul pickup and a cinnamon-roll-stuffed gargoyle. And I do mean stuffed. He ate enough rolls for a whole family of gargoyles. I didn’t say anything, though. When Beezle is upset he eats, and he was really upset about Samiel, even if he didn’t say it.
It felt strange to go to bed that night without Samiel in the house. I’d become used to hearing him moving around the apartment, and to the easy company he provided. Samiel was just about the only person in my life who didn’t ask anything of me.
Gabriel had returned to his own apartment downstairs after the repairmen had completed their work. I didn’t follow him. I honestly wasn’t up to another emotional battering.
I hardly slept, even though I desperately needed it. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined the Grigori torturing Samiel for his crimes, and that is hardly conducive to a restful night. At dawn I gave up the pretense and climbed out of bed. Beezle was already awake and digging into the emergency chocolate.
I leaned against the kitchen counter and raised my eyebrow. He ignored me and stuffed a handful of dark chocolate squares into his beak.
“Those are meant to be savored, you know,” I said.
“Believe me,” Beezle said, through his stuffed mouth, “I am savoring every bite.”
I watched Beezle for a few more minutes, and then wandered over to the refrigerator to see if there was anything edible in there. Two eggs, half a carton of milk and one sad-looking stalk of celery in the crisper drawer. I didn’t even have condiments on the door. For a person who occasionally freelanced as a food writer my fridge was pretty pathetic.
“So, how are you planning on pulling this one off?” Beezle asked. “You can’t get around the fact that Samiel did release Ramuell, and Ramuell did kill a whole bunch of people. Plus, Samiel kidnapped Gabriel and sold him to Focalor, and I can’t even begin to explain to you how many rules of etiquette he broke by doing that.”
“Don’t you think the murder of dozens of people would rank higher than some infraction of etiquette?”
“The Grigori have been alive for ages untold. They’ve had plenty of practice being petty.”
I stared out the new windows that had been installed the day before in the breakfast nook. They were nicer than the old windows, which had been ancient and drafty and lacking the double-paned fanciness of the new ones.
“I don’t think the facts are ultimately that important to the Grigori. I think if I can demonstrate that I am an adversary to be respected, then I’ll win. If I can’t, then Samiel…”
“Will be beheaded in front of the whole court, no doubt,” Beezle said.
“You’re such a comfort to me,” I said.
“And just how are you going to demonstrate that they should respect you?”
“It’s about power,” I said slowly. “Not only the power that you wield, but also the power that you command. That’s why Lucifer is always trying to collect me.”
“You don’t have anyone in your pile of chess pieces,” Beezle said.
“Maybe not directly. Maybe not the way that Lucifer or Amarantha would. But I do have friends, and allies. And with the fallen, so much is about perception. If they perceive my allies as pawns that I control, then in the eyes of the Grigori I am powerful.”
“Who are you going to get in the next couple of hours besides that moony-eyed devil that lives downstairs?”
I gave him a look.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you were doing in the yard the other night.”
“Okay, Dad. Anyway, J.B. would come, and Jude, probably.”
“Yeah, that’ll be great. The son of the woman who tried to help Focalor with his uprising against Lucifer and a wolf who despises anything to do with the fallen. Excellent choices, Maddy.”
“It’s the best we have,” I said, stung. “Besides, we need someone to carry Metatrion, and Jude is the strongest creature I know besides Samiel.”
“I almost forgot about Metatrion. This is going to be awesome. You show up with two crummy allies and the remains of the Hound of the Hunt.”
“I have Gabriel, too,” I reminded him.
“The half brother of the accused.”
“You act like I shouldn’t even bother showing up,” I said.
“I just don’t think you know what you’re getting into with the Grigori.”
“That’s what you said about Amarantha and the faerie court, too.”
“Look how well that turned out.”
“I think it turned out fine. I defeated Focalor’s uprising, suppressed Amarantha’s plan to breed a child of Lucifer’s bloodline and survived the Maze.”
“And now Amarantha and Focalor hate you and want to hunt you to the ends of the Earth.”
“I can’t worry about the fallout from doing the right thing. Every time I turn around I have another enemy no matter what, just because I’m Azazel’s child or Lucifer’s descendant. And I don’t think that you should underestimate me just because everyone else does.”
“I’m not underestimating you,” Beezle said. “But if by some miracle you do win Samiel back, what do you think you’ll have to give in exchange? ‘Free’ is not a word in the Grigori’s vocabulary.”
I didn’t say anything. I knew Beezle was right, but there wasn’t a lot of point in worrying about it. If I freed Samiel, then I would pay whatever price I had to when the time came.
A little before noon I stood outside the closed doors to Azazel’s court. Gabriel, J.B. and Jude stood around me. Of the three, Jude had naturally been the most reluctant to help when I’d called him.
“Why should I care about some court matter of the fallen?” Jude asked. “My pack is dealing with more important matters at the moment, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, Samiel risked his life to help return the cubs to you. I think Wade would want you to assist us.”
“I don’t know what Wade would want, because he’s not here,” Jude growled.
I sighed and waited in silence. There wasn’t a lot I could say to that.
“Fine,” Jude said after a few moments. “I will be there.”
Jude had arrived at my house wearing his usual worn jeans, flannel shirt and vest. In concession to the frigid cold the vest was down instead of denim and he’d shoved a wool hat over his red hair. He looked like a Bears fan ready for a tailgating party.
