Trick Of The Light Part 15

"No." I turned back and studied the stars again. "Think of it as a surprise present, Eli. So much more fun to open those than the ones you already know."

Griffin s.n.a.t.c.hed a glance off the road at me when I used the word "open." I knew what he was thinking. If the demon was as high-level as Eli or Solomon, opening him might be more difficult than I made it sound. But he didn't say anything and he didn't ask me about the Light, whether I really would turn it over to h.e.l.l. I answered the last unasked question anyway. "I'm not as pure as you think I am, Griffin. Not as good. Not without a little sin myself. Maybe a lot, considering whom you're asking."

"I never thought you were pure." He reached for my hand and squeezed it. "But you're our family. You can do no wrong."

I squeezed back and let all the feeling I had for him and Zeke show in my face . . . in my eyes. "My miracle, who went so good when your life could've turned you so bad." One last grip to his hand and I added, "Angels aren't on the state of Nevada's endangered list, are they?"

Griffin jerked his eyes back to the road just past the time he could've avoided plowing into a creature of gla.s.s, holy light, and a p.i.s.sy att.i.tude. I was fairly sure he didn't bother to brake, but the car stopped nonetheless. Whiteless silver eyes glowed as did the sweep of hair brighter than platinum. The gla.s.s wings and body were filled with a cool white light, and it still amazed me that something that should've been so beautiful-a crystal, metal, and gla.s.s work of art-could be so starkly forbidding when it wanted to be.

Fingers of gla.s.s imbedded themselves in the hood of my car as the engine revved futilely. "Griffin, there's barely anything left of her now. Give my baby a break," I said lightly.

If it had been Zeke, he would've ignored me and gunned it. Griffin, scowling, but obedient, listened. He slammed on the brakes until the car was stopped by good old human technology and not the angelic equivalent of the Terminator. "Where is the Light?" Oriphiel demanded in a voice less like trumpets and more like the sound of fire raining down.

Eli once again proved himself useful for more than tracking murderers, stealing souls, and setting the standards for seducers and male models/gigolos everywhere. Overhead, missing us by inches, copper scales pa.s.sed on a long serpentine body propelled by the wings of a dragon. Eligos settled on the hood of the car, between the archangel and us. His lizard head snaked forward and, despite the forked tongue, I understood every word. It wasn't trumpets either. It was the last breath of a dying man twisted with the hiss of a boa guarding its prey.

"The Light is not yours." Eligos's sibilant denial split the air. Jet-black claws punctured the hood precisely, blocking the angel's fingers.

"It will never be yours," Oriphiel hissed back, sounding not far from a demon himself.

Two sets of wings thrashed through the air, raptors-both of them. Harpy eagles they were, ready to fight to the death for the right of prey. "There is no bet this time. No job. This is an auction. The Light goes to the highest bidder, Oriphiel." The snake tongue curled around the name with salacious glee. "What do you have to offer? What do you have to give but sanctimonious bulls.h.i.t?"

"Meet me at the bar tomorrow." I stood and leaned over the windshield to address them both. "We'll leave from there. Make sure Eden House has a helicopter ready to go. I know both sides will make sure I get a good night's sleep. I don't care how many of you winged b.a.s.t.a.r.ds fly around my bar tonight, watching one another. If nothing else, you'll balance each other out. As for you, Oriphiel, you'd better come up with what I want for the Light." Eli had already come through there, or so he said, but better safe than sorry. "And what I want is my brother's killer." I sat back down. "Now, I'm tired and I'm going home. Eligos, you move the angel and you get first bid."

Eli already knew he had the only bid at the moment, but it didn't stop him from leaping onto Oriphiel. They lurched through the air, a ma.s.s of scales, gla.s.s, and roars. They hit the sand beside the road and Griffin slammed his foot on the gas, leaving behind deep throated screams and the sounds of ripping flesh and shattering gla.s.s.

"Do you really think we'll survive this?" Griffin asked as the unsettling sounds faded to silence behind us. He didn't look back at Zeke, but I knew what he was thinking. He could protect his partner from many things in this world, but what would go down tomorrow? It was hard for him to imagine any of us walking away. If the demons didn't kill us, Eden House would be right behind them to take the next-best shot. That would be a best-case scenario. Worst case: We'd be caught in a cross fire of-well, to quote another great, older movie-biblical proportions. Bloodbath. Ma.s.sacre. Whatever name you wanted to put on it, tomorrow was going to make the infamous Rasputin think he'd been in a playground scuffle.

"You and Zeke don't have to come. This isn't your fight. This is about Kimano and his killer, about the Light and me. You two can walk away and start a life somewhere else, safe. I wouldn't think any less of you. I'd rather you lived, if worse comes to worst for me tomorrow." There was a lie in there, but I didn't let Griffin feel it or Zeke read it. I kept my wall up and let them make their own decision. That they had to make it without all the facts wasn't fair, but I couldn't change that.

"We're going," Zeke said with nothing more than mild antic.i.p.ation in his voice. "Trinity won't let us walk away."

"It's true," Griffin agreed. "No matter what happens, Trinity will want us dead. He considers us traitors and he's old-school, to say the very least, when it comes to betrayal. However this is resolved, we may as well resolve it tomorrow rather than wait around."

"And family doesn't desert family," Zeke said solidly.

I couldn't have said it any more eloquently.

Finally home, with Zeke and Griffin taking their turns sleeping downstairs on the couch. I didn't peek, but I pictured them reluctantly spooned-I really needed to get a camera shot of that-before I went upstairs and turned on the light in my bedroom to see Solomon in my bed. He was bare chested, but wore pajama bottoms of dark gray silk. We'd come some distance from weeks ago when I'd been ready to shoot him for the same thing.

"Wonderful," I sighed as Lenny flew past me to roost on the headboard, his shiny, suspicious eyes fixed on the demon.

"The power of Christ compels thee," the raven croaked balefully. I wasn't the only one who could quote old movies.

"Amusing," Solomon said dryly before dismissing the bird to take me in. "Long day at the office, I see."

"Less amusing." I sifted through a dresser drawer for pajamas of my own. They happened to be silk as well. I didn't know if that meant Solomon and I had similar tastes or he copied mine . . . seeking any advantage that he could. That was the mind of a demon or a manipulative man. I treated Solomon as if he were either-or both-and confronted him. "Eli says you were responsible for the fall of Eden House and you work for Beleth. That you want the Light for him. Any comments?"

I changed in front of him, leaving my underwear on this time. It was no more revealing than a skimpy bathing suit and I made it a short show. He watched silently, but it didn't distract him enough to catch him in a lie. I wasn't stupid enough to think it would. I was just tired. Too tired to leave my bedroom to change. Too tired to care. Too tired to play his games. Tomorrow was the end. It should have invigorated me, that thought, but it didn't. It exhausted me, as if all those years of searching and mourning had caught up with me in one crushing moment.

"I do work for Beleth," he admitted after I slipped the top on. "In h.e.l.l, everyone bows to someone else-all except the Morning Star. And he does want the Light. But I wouldn't hurt you for it and I did not take out Eden House. Why would I?"

"Because they are after the Light as well, with backup from the Heavenly Host with the Most-Oriphiel. Getting rid of the compet.i.tion makes all the sense in the world." I pulled the clip from my hair and let it spring free.

"That holds true for Eli as well as me," he pointed out, then exhaled. "I fell, Trixa, but we all make mistakes. Murderers serve life or die for their crimes. I was merely a rebel. I would repent, given the chance. Being made into a monster for all eternity, forced to make deals with greedy, stupid humans to be able to survive, how can that be just? I don't kill. I don't murder, and if I didn't need the souls to survive, I'd never make another deal again or consume the souls who find h.e.l.l on their own wicked path."

"Would you give the Light to Beleth?" I folded my arms tightly, hugging myself, exhaustion chilling me.

"I would give the Light to Heaven if they would take me back, but I know they would not," he said. "So, yes, I would give it to Beleth. I wouldn't have much choice." He slid under the covers and held them back for me. "But I would never harm you for it. I would only take it if you gave it of your own free will." His lips twisted at the last two words. "Odd, how the blessed and cursed of G.o.d share that one thing. Free will." His eyes were regretful, colored with what he'd lost. I didn't look any further. We all made our choices. We all lived with them.

I climbed into bed, turned on my side away from him, and pulled the covers over my shoulder. He moved up behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He was warmth all along my length and that warmth soothed my aches from a week filled with battles. I felt the nuzzle in my hair and the even warmer kiss on the nape of my neck as that hair was pushed aside. I closed my eyes at the sensation. It had been a while since I'd felt the touch of lips there. "I've watched you, played with you, wished for you for three years now. I've never hurt you. I don't think I could, even if Lucifer himself ordered it. And I didn't mean to hurt your friends. A game gone wrong." He exhaled. "The only way you noticed me. Trixa, I want very much to be noticed by you." He rested a large hand against my stomach. "Sleep," he said softly. "Tomorrow it'll be done. One way or the other. Then you can truly rest."

"Tomorrow when I tell you which demon I want for the Light?" I murmured, my fingers interlocking with his.

"I said I can give you anything or anyone. I will. Now sleep."

I did sleep, with Lenore and Solomon watching. Circling outside the bar there were probably more angels and demons than Elvises in Vegas, but I didn't care. Tonight was my last night as this Trixa: vengeance seeking, mourning, looking for a light . . . not the Light, but any light. Tomorrow I could be myself again. Kimano would rest. Mama would rest. I would rest.

The world would be the world again. My life again, not the one I'd faked for so long. I would be free.

I woke up with lips on mine, clever and so very practiced; yet they seemed meant only for me. I opened my eyes to see gray ones fade away along with Solomon himself. But the "Be mine" hung in the air. "When this is done, be mine."

I rolled onto my back and pushed my hair away from my face. Shiny eyes looked down on me, but for once Lenore said nothing. "He makes you want to believe him, doesn't he?" I said as the sun striped across the bed. Lenny remained silent.

I touched my lips. "He really does," I murmured, staring past Lenore at the ceiling.

Chapter 15.

I gave up on my red that morning and went with Kimano's colors, the black of the lava sand beach, the black of his hair, the black of a shark's eyes. This was his day. A snug, black long-sleeved, thin sweater; black pants; and black climbing boots. When I went downstairs, Griffin and Zeke were dressed much the same, only with more weapons. I shook my head. "Trinity won't let you take the guns." Zeke scowled as heavily as a toddler whose security blanket had been cruelly yanked away. "We'll see," he said stubbornly.

"He's your partner," I pointed out to Griffin. "Prod a few of his brain cells if you can. I'm calling for breakfast. What do you guys want?"

Griffin sat on a stool, lowering his head enough that the long sides of his blond hair fell into his eyes. He looked annoyed and he looked dangerous. Truthfully, he was probably both. Being dangerous was the only way he might survive the day. As for annoyance, I guessed he slept on the floor instead of spooning on the couch. His loss. "I don't think breakfast is that important right now."

"Then you think wrong." I called the diner-I didn't want to walk even a block with what winged things might be hovering out there. I ordered three breakfasts and when they arrived a half hour later, I ate all three of them. Omelet, hash browns, toast, two fried eggs, three slices of ham, scrambled eggs, bacon, three donuts, and about half a gallon of milk. Lenny clucked disapprovingly and disappeared for a while. Scrounging up his own breakfast.

"What are you doing? Do you have a hidden conjoined twin you're feeding too?" Griffin watched in disbelief as I ate bite after bite.

"This is the endgame, Griff. I'm going to need my energy. You might want to rethink it yourself."

But it was too late for that. Trinity was at the door with Goodman, two other men, and Oriphiel, who was back in one piece after whatever Eligos had done to him last night. His human form didn't have a scratch. It worked that way when you could remake yourself from angel or demon to human and back. If you could reform yourself, you could banish any wounds-provided you'd survived those wounds. There wasn't much reforming after the death of your scaly body, and I still wasn't sure angels could die. I'd never tried to kill one . . . not that hard, anyway. "It's time to go. Would you care to fill us in as to where that would be, as we have a helicopter in a parking lot two blocks down."

"Leviathan Cave." No research needed. It had come to me crystal clear as the Bottle House exploded around me. "Leviathan, a devil's name . . . appropriate, don't you think? That can't be a coincidence." I finished a last swallow of a bottle of orange juice. "Seems to tip the scales more toward your downstairs brothers."

Trinity seemed less than pleased at the news, but asked blandly, "You are sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure." I pushed away from the table. "I couldn't be more sure."

Leviathan Cave is north of Rachel, Nevada, about three hours from Vegas. A gigantic sinkhole, one entrance, was on the flank of Meeker Peak in the Worthington Mountain Range, and was big enough for a helicopter to set down in. Convenient, as I didn't have any desire to make a strenuous four-mile climb up the side. As the cave itself wasn't even one-fourth of a mile long, I didn't think the Light would be hard to find when we arrived. Hard to hold on to?

We'd see.

I didn't see any more angels on the walk to the helicopter or Eligos or Solomon, but I knew that at least the latter two would show up even if they didn't ride along with us. Oriphiel did ride, surprisingly enough. He didn't disappear into a ray of the morning sun or a flash of bright glory, but I expected he wanted to keep an eye on my friends and me. Try to run one angel down with a car and they become distrustful. Where was the spirit of forgiveness, I ask you? As for cranky Zeke, it was as I said it was. Trinity, Goodman, and the others wouldn't allow any of their weapons aboard, at least not until they were secured in a locked strongbox. "Traitors have no weapon rights," Goodman said as he held out his hand for Zeke's beloved Colt Anaconda. If Zeke hadn't respected his gun so much, I thought Goodman might have a colonoscopy without the benefit of hospital equipment and anesthesia and instead the use of something that vented muzzle fire. Not too pleasant, but Zeke certainly seemed to think he deserved it.

But with my encouragement, the partners grudgingly turned over their guns and knives. Big trust in me, huge. I'd do everything I could to make sure I came through for them. Trinity and his men kept their weapons and didn't bother to hide the fact. The helicopter was big . . . not military big, but larger than your average traffic copter. We all fit. Even Lenore, who had returned to ride on my shoulder.

"And that is?" Goodman sniped.

"Moral support." I climbed into the middle row of seats with Zeke and Griffin. Goodman flew with Trinity beside him. Oriphiel and the other two House members sat in the last row behind us. Sandwiched between the holy and the holier-than-thou. As the helicopter took off, I looked out of the right window in the side door. I thought I saw a flicker of wings. Copper or gray-silver, I couldn't be sure-it was too quick. I smiled. It didn't matter which. They would both show. Greed-humans hadn't cornered the market on that. My demons would be there. And at least one of them was as murderous as they came.

I continued to look at the pink and blue sky as I sang lightly under my breath. My voice wasn't the best, but that was all right. As long as it was sung, that's what counted. Lenore crooned lightly on my shoulder. His voice was worse than mine, and that made it even better. Kimano would've laughed himself sick that his mele kani kau, his mourning song, was sung by his tone-deaf sister and a croaking raven.

"What are you singing?" Griffin asked. That he could hear me was testament to the luxury and soundproof ing of the helicopter. The president wished he had one so nice.

"A song for my kaikunane." Kaikunane-my brother. I finished up the Hawaiian good-bye and watched as Vegas pa.s.sed beneath us. I might have stayed in Las Vegas ten years and considered that the longest any of my family stuck around a place, but Kimano had returned to Hawaii so many times, he may as well have lived there. Mama probably wondered how she'd gone so wrong with the both of us.

"It was . . . nice," Zeke said, making the effort, as uncomfortable as it was for him. He meant it too. No mocking of my lack of singing talent.

"Thanks, Kit." I reached over Griffin and patted the denim over Zeke's knee.

"Would your brother have liked us, you think?" Griffin folded his arms and slanted his gaze at me. "I mean, you treat us like younger brothers," he snorted, not all that appreciative of the younger part, apparently. "Do you think your brother would've liked us?"

An interesting question. "Once he got to know you," I mused-once he had genuinely, deeply got to know them-"then, yes, he would've liked you. He liked almost everyone."

There was a long moment of silence except for the muted whirring of the rotor blades. Zeke kicked the back of the seat in front of him. "I want my gun," he growled flatly.

"Make that little brothers, not younger ones," I said dryly. "And me with no PayDays this time."

"It's all right. It's time for a tutor session. That'll distract him. Zeke loves tutoring." Griffin gave a faint, mocking smile.

Zeke just snarled and slouched further down in the seat. "You suck. We could die today and you want to tutor me?"

Griffin smiled blissfully, and with that blond hair and blue eyes, his expression was as blissful as on Michelangelo's David and then some. He crossed his arms, reciting, "A grandmother with a stroller carrying twin babies and a c.o.c.ker spaniel puppy are crossing the road. They're about to be hit by a bus. About two blocks down the street, a low-level demon is eating breakfast at an outdoor cafe and reading the paper. Do you save Granny, kiddies, and pup, or go kill the demon?"

The scowl on Zeke's face deepened as he thought, and from the furrowing of his brow, he thought hard. After nearly three minutes, long ones, he asked, "There's a puppy in the stroller?"

"Yes." Griffin said in an aside to me, "This is why we have the tutoring."

"Is it cute?" Zeke asked.

Patiently, his partner answered, "It's a spaniel puppy. On a scale of one to ten, it's a ten in cute, and, yes, ten is the highest level of cute you can get."

"d.a.m.n." He couldn't slouch any further, although he gave it his best try. "The demon's two blocks away. Do I have a clear shot?"

"No."

By the time we arrived at the Worthington Mountain Range, nearly an hour later, Granny, tots, and the world's cutest puppy had just been flattened by a city bus. But a demon had had his breakfast rudely interrupted with a shotgun slug to the head. "I think you got that one wrong," I said as the copter hovered above the giant entrance to Leviathan Cave.

"It's the puppy," Zeke muttered. "I know I should always go with the puppy, but I like shooting things." Demons, robbers, whatever the occasion provided. "Why did G.o.d make the NRA if shooting isn't always the right answer? And grandmas shouldn't push strollers. They're too d.a.m.n slow." He knocked on the gla.s.s of his window, an idea obviously having struck him. "What if I shot the bus driver, then . . ."

Griffin and I said together, "No." If anyone was expecting a commentary on Zeke's slightly psychopathic decision-making skills from the angel Oriphiel behind us, they didn't get it. If a demon had been sitting back there though, a.s.suming it wasn't the hypothetical one having breakfast and reading the paper, I imagine Zeke would've gotten a cheerful thumbs-up on the hat trick of granny/puppy/kiddy squashing.

"What now?" asked Goodman from the front.

"Land inside the opening. It should be big enough," I said.

It was and then some. With a name like Leviathan and the ma.s.sive size of the sinkhole entrance, you almost could believe it was the open gates of h.e.l.l itself. But it wasn't. It was only a cave and a rather beautiful one at that.

The copter sat down mostly easy, tilted about six inches due to a rock formation that couldn't be avoided. Outside were deep pink and gray stalagmites and stalact.i.tes and a torrent of light from the opening almost twenty feet above. I opened the door once the rotors stopped and stepped out to look up at the circle of sky. I could imagine that's how being born felt like if a baby could remember that far back. A light, colors you hadn't dreamed existed, and a brand-new world. If only they could hold on to that moment forever, because there would never be another like it-that moment when everything is new, and evil is just a word you haven't learned yet.

Griffin pa.s.sed me, eyes cast upward-blue reflecting blue. As he moved on, I took Zeke's arm when he started to follow him and whispered softly in his ear. "Choices are hard, Kit. Someone's always telling you you're wrong. But there'll come a time today that you'll have to make one and almost everyone around you will tell you what to do. What they say might seem like the right thing, maybe the only thing, but some choices, Zeke, you have to make yourself. Don't listen to what anyone else says-not to them, not even to me. You do what you feel . . . what you know is right."

"You think I can?" he said dubiously.

"I do." I meant it. I hoped it.

"Even after the puppy?"

"You will this time. I know you will." I pinched his ribs hard. "Besides, don't think I didn't know you were yanking Griffin's chain with the babies and puppy thing."

He smirked. "I was." The smirk faded and the next words were utterly serious. "I always know about babies. I screw up most of the time. Robbers. Cab drivers. The jacka.s.s who cuts in front of me at McDonald's. But I always know about babies."

"I know." I touched the scar on his neck. "Remember, I have faith in you. Griffin has faith in you. Just have faith in yourself." He gave a hesitant and confused nod, then trailed after his partner. It would have to do and was all I could do.

Lenore shifted on my shoulder and gave what suspiciously sounded like a dubious mumble at my ear. "You're just a bird, Lenny," I warned. "Don't forget it or I'll put a bow around your neck and let the tourists take pictures with you." Not that the first was close to being true, but ears were everywhere, and not that there would be any more tourists for me once this was over, but Lenore pretended to take the threat to heart nonetheless and winged away, circling the huge cavern.

"The Light," came a voice from behind me. I didn't need the incipient frostbite to know who it was.

"You're not a patient man, Mr. Trinity." I turned and, wishing I'd worn a jacket, folded my arms against the cold. To give the man credit, it wasn't actually him lowering the temperature. The air in the cave was in the low fifties and I was a woman who preferred the warmer climates. I'd been all over, but Kimano and I both had been sun lovers. I'd done my share of traveling up north, sometimes far up north, but insulation was my friend when I went there. Sometimes you'd be hard-pressed to tell the difference between a polar bear and me if I saw a single snowflake.

"You're still alive. I consider that to be exceedingly patient of me. Now, where is the Light?" He and the three other Eden Housers cradled shotguns. Oriphiel stood apart from them, the big boss waiting for his mocha latte no foam to be delivered to him. He was in human form, the same pale gray suit, the same silver hair and eyes, pale skin. The light from above hit him, turning him into a molten metal statue, peaceful . . . not the crystal warrior who'd gouged holes in the metal of my car last night. I couldn't see him carrying a flaming sword in the old days. A crystal one that shimmered with the light of the moon-I could see that. Could see it cutting a mountain in half or an army of the wicked. All that power, all that lack of empathy for those he should protect. Maybe the best and brightest didn't make up the middle management that watched the earth. G.o.d could be teaching them a lesson in his silence. The lesson might be compa.s.sion, or at the very least, that humans had value. And some did learn. They had to-it was the law of averages.

"Around." I looked back up at the sky. Kimano hadn't seen the sky when he had died. He'd been killed in his sleep. The demonic b.a.s.t.a.r.d that had murdered him had done it while my brother slept. I didn't know which was worse: that my brother hadn't had a chance to defend himself or that he would've been awake and died anyway. He'd been good-in spirit and heart, the way the word should be used. Not a fighter unless he absolutely had to. Genuinely too good to be part of our ragtag, sc.r.a.ppy family. When children thought of angels, they thought of someone like Kimano, not the Silver Surfer standing over there.

Strange, how I remembered that, the Silver Surfer, Iron Man, Superman, but Zeke read a lot of comic books-or graphic novels as he called them-when he was fifteen. Always the superheroes. He'd wanted to fly like they did. Don't we all?

"Then I suggest you look around and find it, before I retire Reese or Hawkins now. I will let you choose which one if you like," he offered, his finger resting on the trigger. "I'd suggest Hawkins as first choice. An excellent telepath, but an inferior everything else. Our gardener never quite recovered from the punch in the face and the subsequent mauling by an angry rodent. Plastic surgery can only do so much."

I was with Zeke. Gophers deserved living more than the rich deserved a smooth lawn of Spanish Trails gra.s.s. But I moved to play my part. Trixa the Bloodhound. Only this bloodhound was about to gnaw through that Eden House leash and start the action and the auction.

I looked at Zeke and Griffith across the cavern. They were ready. They might not have weapons, but that didn't make them not dangerous. It only put them at a disadvantage. "Even having all of Heaven on your side can't keep your House whole or get your panties out of that ma.s.sive wad. What a shame." I started away from them. "It's this way."