“Nice, Raziel. Real nice.”
Tiny screams emanated from the multitudes of flies that slipped in the thousands into the waiting maws of the pitcher plants, drawn there like moths to a flame. There were still more swarms streaming out of Masaya’s mouth, but Florian and Dionysus together were doing a phenomenal job of thinning out their numbers.
I stamped my foot, planting my sword into the ground as I rummaged through my pockets. “Your information was very enlightening,” I admitted, clenching my teeth. “Thank you for letting me know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I just remembered that we have another mouth that might just be eager to feed on these flying little bastards.”
Dionysus’s plan was already working. Realizing how vulnerable they were in insect form, several of Beelzebub’s children were morphing into their humanoid bodies, making the fight infinitely more bizarre. Squads of men and women in tailored suits fell out of the sky, shrieking obscenities and threats in the guttural demon tongue as they entered the battlefield.
Cradling Box gently in my hand, I placed him down in the grass, prompting him to grow from his miniature size. He did, rapidly, shooting up into the familiar shape of a treasure chest.
I knelt in the dirt, patting the top of his lid and grinning. “You hungry, boy? How do you feel about eating a few billion flaming fly demons?”
But Box’s response was a horrible gurgling sound. His lid was shuddering, too. I’d rarely seen it happen, but I knew he was about to throw up. I drew my hand away, scurrying backwards, worried about what Box was going to spew from out of his dimensional depths.
And it happened, and it was gross, a distinct noise that sounded very much like “Blech” leaving his enormous mouth at the same moment that he ejected something large and slimy and wet into the grass. Hold up. Not that large. If you propped it up so it was vertical, it’d stand no taller than my shoulders.
It was also wearing a very slimy baseball cap.
My blood surged all the way up to the top of my head, boiling. Lina pushed herself up off the grass, wiping shapeshifter saliva from her cheek as she gave me a sheepish smile.
“Uh, hey. What’s up?”
25
“We’ve got a stowaway,” I shouted to the others. “Slimy, stinking, lying little stowaway.”
Lina clambered up to her feet, somehow successfully flicking away most of the mimic spit that had clung to her skin. “Now, hold on a minute.”
“Good heavens,” Raziel said, groaning, then clutching his forehead.
Artemis pushed her hands into her hips, her spirit suddenly three feet taller. “How the hell did you survive in there? Box shrinks into nothing when he comes along for these things. You could have been crushed to death.”
I waved my hand irritably. “It’s a pocket dimension, his insides are huge. And this is not supposed to be an argument about shapeshifter physics. This is about you, young lady, sneaking where you aren’t supposed to and getting yourself directly in the thick of trouble.”
Lina opened her mouth to protest, but Raziel already had his hands on her shoulders.
“I can whisk her away, take her to safety. I very much doubt I’ll have enough essence to make a return trip, but it means that she won’t be at risk.”
“We need you here, Raz,” I said. “We can keep her out of the way, make sure she – ”
Lina wriggled out of Raziel’s grasp, her face a thundering storm. “I can speak for myself. I want to help. And I can help. I didn’t make it all the way to Valero on my own by being stupid. I can fight. I can protect myself.”
I frowned at her. “Real cute. It’s bad enough if you endanger yourself, but if the rest of us have to look out for you as well – ”
The rest of my words stuck in my throat as delicate rays of golden light emanated from Lina’s skin, her glyphs burning bright red, her power so radiant that I could feel its heat. When the light faded, she wasn’t wearing jeans and a denim jacket anymore, but a suit of golden plate armor. She squared her shoulders, thrusting her chest out, the armor clanking as she moved.
“You were saying?”
I was stunned into silence. Artemis kept her lips squeezed tightly together, only because I knew she didn’t want to give away how impressed she was. Raziel was actually smiling. But it was Apollo who spoke up.
“So, I think that’s proof enough that she should stay,” he said. “Come on. Give the kid a chance. You’d be just as stubborn and eager to help, Mason, given the circumstances.”
Lina’s armor clanked again as she adjusted her baseball cap and gave Apollo a quiet, appreciative nod.
“Okay,” I said, acquiescing. Raziel patted her on the shoulder – well, on her pauldron, to be specific, still grinning in approval. “Fine. That was – I wasn’t expecting that, I guess.”
The way Lina smiled at me was beyond smarmy. “Wasn’t expecting what, exactly?”
I rolled my eyes and retrieved my sword and my shield, reminding myself that I wasn’t supposed to use either of them to whack a fellow nephilim. “I wasn’t expecting you to already be skilled enough to summon a full suit of armor,” I grumbled.
“Pssh,” she said, rolling her neck. “What, like it’s hard?”
I gritted my teeth. “Careful there. You don’t want to borrow too much from the Vestments. It’ll cost you.”
Lina cocked an eyebrow, confused. “What the hell are the Vestments?”
My mouth fell open again. Raziel had mentioned that my ability to access heaven’s armories was potentially unique. Sadriel had said the same. Nephilim talents differed in both nature and magnitude, but Lina could suit up in full armor of her own creation at age fifteen. That was incredible. Who knew what else she was capable of?
When it was clear she wouldn’t get an answer, Lina went for a second question. She blinked at me, narrowing
