fluttered to my shoulder.
“Up, up and away, Team Black,” I said dryly.
A couple of minutes later we stood at the corner of Addison and Sheffield in front of the statue of Billy Williams. Wrigley Field loomed silently behind us. We were invisible from human eyes.
A steady stream of commuters poured across the intersection as the Red Line stop was only half a block away. Storefronts housed ticket brokers and shops that hawked Cubs merchandise, most of them silent this time of year, when baseball season and the heat of summer seemed like hazy memories.
The bars that liberally dotted the area were quiet tonight, with very few Blackhawks fans willing to brave the freezing temperatures just to drink overpriced beer and watch a game they could just as easily see at home.
I straightened up when I saw him—Cole Stuart Janowik. There’s no glowing light, pointing arrow, chorus of hallelujahs or anything like that when I see a marked soul. I just know, like all of my power locks onto that person with a laser sight.
Cole was young, mid-twenties maybe, and he moved with the stream of people that had gotten off the El and walked west on Addison. He talked on an expensive-looking smartphone as he walked, a wireless headset on his head, the phone in his hand.
This was not a dangerous neighborhood, but the guy was totally unaware of his surroundings. A blond kid who had the look of a strung-out junkie pushed Cole just as he reached the curb, then tore the phone from his hand. The thief sprinted across the street toward Wrigley just as the light changed to red.
Cole, intent on retrieving his phone, did not even notice the custom furniture company truck accelerating across Addison on Sheffield.
“Splat,” Beezle said.
“That’s a little cruel,” I said.
I tried not to let death affect me too much. I saw a lot of it, and the weight would be unbearable if I let it. But it seemed so stupid and pointless to die under the wheels of a furniture truck because an addict needed to sell your phone to get a fix.
I told my overprotective entourage to stay back, and went to offer the soul of Cole Stuart Janowik his final choice.
We were flying back home from the Door a short time later. Everyone seemed to be in a contemplative mood and not inclined for too much conversation. Lucifer’s edict had cast a pall over us, and no amount of wisecracking would relieve the heaviness in my heart. Lucifer had cornered me good and proper.
I was flying on autopilot, glancing idly at the scene below, when something caught my eye. I pulled up short so fast that Beezle lost his grip on my shoulder. He fell a few feet, then flew back up, looking irritated. Gabriel and Samiel had paused a little ways ahead, and looked back at me, confused.
“What was that all about?”
“That,” I said, and pointed.
Far below us was a semi-industrial area. I knew that some of the larger buildings housed a cable company and the power company.
One of the buildings was coated in a seething mass of energy that looked like green mist. From a distance the feeling of malevolence rising from it was palpable.
“I’m sure that it is not a good idea to do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing,” Beezle said.
“I think we should check it out,” I said. “There’s obviously something wrong with that place.”
“Like I said, not a good idea,” Beezle retorted.
I ignored him and drifted slowly downward. As the ground approached, more features came into view. A short distance away I could see the lights on Addison and Western, the fast food restaurants and the giant structure of Lane Tech High School.
We landed in the parking lot of a plaza that housed the cable company and a large facility that ran kids’ soccer programs. The building in question was at the far end of the lot.
As we approached it I felt a wave of nausea rising. Whatever was coming off the structure was making me feel sick, just like that time I was in Amarantha’s forest and Nathaniel and I ran into the…
“Spider,” I gasped.
Samiel and Gabriel looked questioningly at me.
“When I was in Amarantha’s forest, I was attacked by a giant spider,” I said slowly. It was hard to talk through the sickness rising in my throat. “The spider was surrounded by this same green misty stuff, and it makes me feel like I’m gonna…”
I turned away and heaved, Beezle leaving my shoulder.
“What a waste of perfectly good pizza,” he said.
Gabriel produced a bottle of water from nowhere and I took it gratefully.
“Better?” he asked after I’d collected myself.
I nodded and looked at the building. “What do you think is in there?”
“A bunch of spiders, obviously,” Beezle said. “So do we really want to voluntarily go into a place full of giant arachnids?”
“Want? No.” I shuddered. I have a moderate case of arachnophobia, and almost getting eaten by giant spiders twice had done nothing to improve my symptoms. “Should? Yes.”
“Why is it our job to check out every freaky thing that happens in Chicago?” Beezle whined.
“Who else is going to do it? The cops wouldn’t know what they were getting into.”
I approached the building slowly, Gabriel and Samiel moving to either side of me. Both of them seemed unaffected by the miasma, just like Nathaniel in the forest. The mortal half of me was annoyingly susceptible to malignant spells. It was hard to concentrate, to be aware of what was going on around me, when I kept having to stop and fight the urge to boot again.
A small door faced the parking lot. Unlike the rest of the warehouse, which looked like it was in violation of several city codes, the door appeared brand-new and very secure. There was a magnetic strip machine next to the door. You obviously needed a card to enter.
There were no windows on this side of the building, so we flew around it to see if there was another means of entry. Nothing. No windows, no doors, no vents. Nothing. Just the solid blank face of crumbling concrete and that door.
We returned to the starting point.
“I bet Samiel could smash it in,” I said.
Samiel nodded and signed, I’ll give it a try.
Gabriel stopped him with a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“You will certainly set off an alarm.”
I rocked back on my heels, annoyed. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about an alarm. Of course whatever was in there would be protected by more than just green miasma.
Beezle snapped his fingers. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Maddy, you can go in.”
“What? Why?”
“You can pass through walls. You’re the Hound of the Hunt.”
“Can I do that even if I’m not on Lucifer’s business?” I asked skeptically.
Beezle shrugged. “We might as well try. If it doesn’t work, we can go back to staring blankly at the door.”
I sighed. “So I get to go into the creepy haunted warehouse all on my own. Hooray.”
“You’re the one who said we needed to check this out,” Beezle reminded me.
Gabriel put his hand on my arm. “I do not like this.”
I turned toward him, touched his cheek. “You can’t always protect me.”
He frowned. “I do not know any other way to be.”
I kissed him swiftly and turned away, aware of Beezle and Samiel watching us with unabashed curiosity. One of these days I was going to take Gabriel to a deserted island, far away from prying eyes.
I took a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea that would not leave and the feeling that I was about to do something incredibly stupid. Again.
I put my hand on the wall next to the blinking light of the magnetic strip. Lucifer’s sword rattled in its sheath, and the snake on my palm tingled.
