Rebellion

“Yes.”

“He had blond hair.”

“No. Dark.”

“Oh?” This took Mallory by surprise, but not for long. “And kind of a pointy face. Nose too long; cheekbones too sharp. Smile like a piranha.”

“I only saw him smile once.”

“Once?”

“As he closed the door. After they brought you.”

“That sounds about right.” Mallory blew out a long breath. He knew exactly who had brought him here.

It was Rimmon – and somewhere, in the back of Mallory’s head, one cog clicked into another, and gears started to turn.

He squinted into the darkness; his eyes just about adjusted enough to make out a hunched shape at the far end of the space. Not so much a room as a cell, and longer than it was wide. But whoever was at the other end was no angel – no Fallen either – and clearly meant him no harm. After all, he’d been wiping Mallory’s face with a damp cloth: cleaning the blood and the dirt away, and you didn’t do that to someone you wanted to hurt. Unless Rimmon had come up with a particularly new and interesting way to test his patience, of course, but Mallory doubted it. After all, why break the habit of a lifetime?

He did his best to sound friendly. He suspected he missed by a mile, but hoped he at least made it close to ‘non-threatening.’

“What about you? How long have they kept you here?”

“I don’t know. It’s always dark.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no...”

“No – I mean, why are you here?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to remember. I saw something. Something I don’t think I was supposed to see. I didn’t think it was real – not to begin with. But I’ve been thinking about it, and I can’t... I don’t know. Maybe I did something...” The voice tailed off, although Mallory was sure he could still hear it whispering. He thought he caught the words ‘deserve it.’

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be in each other’s company for a while.” Mallory slid his feet out from under him, easing himself into a sitting position on the floor. “Might as well introduce ourselves properly.” He held up a hand in greeting, not knowing if the other man could see it. “I’m Mallory.”

“Toby,” came the reply.

“Nice to meet you, Toby.” And even as he said it, his heart sank. Because when it came to the Fallen, there were no coincidences.

THE BARKING CONTINUED for quite some time. It wasn’t helping Vin’s headache, but at least he knew where he was. His gut told him that Lucifer would only entrust one of the Twelve with holding prisoners right now. And, assuming Mallory was also somewhere nearby, it would have to be one of the older ones; not someone who’d been promoted after the angels had taken hell. He mentally ticked off a few names. The dogs really were the giveaway: it had to be Forfax. And that meant he was either somewhere near Forfax’s sleazy bar, or the Fallen had branched out into kennels. A mental image of Forfax – with his tuxedo and that ridiculous cane of his – hanging onto the leads of a dozen miniature dogs popped into Vin’s head, and despite himself he sniggered.

“Something amusing, Vhnori?” An unpleasantly familiar voice echoed around the cell and, startled, Vin looked around to see where it had come from. A small grille had opened in what he assumed was a door, and a pair of eyes were watching him from the other side. The light filtering in past them was dim, and somehow grubby, but it hurt his eyes all the same.

“Hello, you,” he said, as brightly as he could. “I was just thinking about you. Speak of the devil, right?”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“Oh.” Vin sighed. “And I thought you liked me. I mean, you bring me to this lovely dungeon, and...”

“Vhnori...” The voice had changed. It was still the same, and yet, somehow, it was different. Vin didn’t need to see the red eyes blinking back at him from the far side of the door to know why.

“Been a while, Lucifer.”

“Has it? I couldn’t say. You see, you never were very memorable – even before they clipped your wings.”

“Open the door. I’ll give you something to remember me by.”

“Oh, really?” Lucifer threw back his head and laughed. It made Vin’s skin crawl. “You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you? Tell me, why do you insist on staying on the wrong side?”

“Like I said: open the door.”

“You could do great things working for me. You know that, don’t you? I could find use for someone with your spirit.”

“Funny – Michael said exactly the same thing to me. Almost word for word. Right after we kicked your arse the last time.”

“That’s just it. ‘Last time.’ What’s past is past, little Earthbound. And mark my words, that will be the last time. I’m offering you the chance to be more. More than just a foot soldier. More than a pawn. Better to reign...”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it before.” Vin yawned loudly, stretching his arms and his wings out to illustrate his point.

Lucifer snarled. But he did stop talking, and that was all Vin needed. He wove his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “Was there something you actually wanted, Lucifer? It’s just... well, we kicked seven shades of shit out of your boys back at Michael’s place, and I’m kind of beat. Need my beauty sleep, you know?”

“They have abandoned you. Know that. The Archangels, the Descendeds... even that little half-breed. Where is your rescue? Where are they? Tell me that.”

“Okay, firstly: if you’d been listening, you’d have heard me say I’m trying to take a nap and you’re just out there, giving it all this...” Vin made a flapping-mouth gesture with his hand. “Secondly?” He sprang up and leapt at the door, wrapping his hands around the bars of the grille and pulling himself right up to the metal so he was eye- to-eye with Lucifer. “Secondly, who said anything about me needing a rescue?”

Lucifer’s eyes locked on to his, and he must have seen something he didn’t like, because he took a step back.

“You’ll regret this, Vhnori. I promise you that. You will regret this.” What started as another snarl became a high-pitched giggle... and the red of his eyes vanished, leaving just Forfax staring in through the bars. Vin uncurled his fingers and turned back to the corner he’d been sitting in.

Forfax’s voice followed him back across his cell. “He’s right: you’ll regret it. The tide’s turned and soon he’ll be back. And then what will you do?”

“Maybe then I’ll be able to get some fucking sleep!” Vin roared, his back still to the door.

He heard Forfax slam the hatch over the grille shut, heard his footsteps click-clacking away. Only when he was sure the Fallen had gone, when the sound of his shoes had faded into absolute silence, did Vin allow himself to sink back down into his corner, rocking quietly in the darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Mea Culpa

“THERE’S NO SIGN.” Zadkiel sounded tired, and didn’t look any better than he sounded. His armour had gone, and he was back in the hooded top – the one Alice was coming to think of as his ‘civilian clothes.’ Michael, however, remained in his armour, blood spatters and all. He was pacing again. He’d been doing a lot of that. She could only assume it was preferable to him setting the ceiling on fire again. He’d done that, too.