The Guardian Page 4

  “What does it look like?” I asked.

  “Don’t be a dick. It’s a weird thing for a sniper to be carrying around.”

  “Former sniper.”

  “Obviously. Where’d you get it?”

  “Lifted it off the demon Uko when we fought Moloch and his minions at Wolf Gap a couple of months ago.”

  “This is the sword they’re saying can kill angels?”

  I nodded. “Forged in Nulterra apparently.”

  She slid the sword back into its sheath.

  “Wonder what else is down there that’ll try to kill you,” Flint said.

  Fury groaned. “You’re not still harping on that, are you?”

  “You still planning on going?” Flint asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’m still harping on it.” Flint looked across the cockpit at Azrael. “And what happened to you going soft on me? You’ve thought all along this mission was nuts just as much as I have.”

  Azrael shrugged. “That was before we were certain Anya survived.”

  “But how is that even possible? You always told me she’d never survive being taken into Nulterra. Then you told me she’d never survive if Abaddon was killed. Now both things have happened, but suddenly you’re sure she’s alive.”

  Anya and Fury were twins, and when the zygote split, Fury received the human spirit and Anya was born angelic. Anya should have died with Abaddon, as she had no human spirit to carry on. But she didn’t.

  “An Angel of Knowledge told us Anya opened the Nulterra Gate,” Azrael said.

  Fury jerked. “Excuse me?”

  I groaned with dread.

  The last time I had visited Earth, I had been hunting down three damned human souls who’d been unleashed from the pit of Nulterra. Someone had let them out, and only two keys to the gate existed. Fury had one. And I hadn’t told her what I’d learned about the other.

  I took a deep breath, bracing for her wrath. “The Angels of Knowledge know Anya opened the Nulterra Gate.”

  “Bullshit!” Fury was almost shouting through our headsets.

  “Cassiel forced the angel to tell the truth. He couldn’t lie about her having the other key,” I said.

  “Anya would never do such a thing. She’d die first!”

  Azrael turned all the way around. “Fury, we agree with you. I’m sure she was being coerced.” He looked at Flint. “Which makes it even more dire that we get her out of there.”

  Flint was staring straight ahead.

  “Don’t you want us to bring her back alive?” Fury asked him.

  “Of course I do, but I don’t want to sacrifice another daughter to do it. Warren’s fully capable of going all by himself.”

  She crossed her arms. “Is the only reason you came to spend every second until I leave trying to talk me out of going?”

  “Bet your ass it is,” he said.

  I grinned. “I’m seeing where Fury gets her stubbornness.”

  Azrael shook his head. “Son, you have no idea.”

  “Flint’s not the only who doesn’t want you to go,” I said to Fury.

  “Reuel?” she asked.

  “He’s worried, with good reason. He’s pissed that you don’t want to listen.”

  “I always liked Reuel,” Flint said.

  Fury leaned toward Flint’s ear, as if that might help her case on the deafening helicopter. “Neither you nor Reuel should doubt I’d go after my sister.”

  Flint tossed up a hand. “I thought you might change your mind after Jett was born.”

  “Hell, we all thought that,” I agreed.

  She sat back hard in her seat. “Then none of you know me very well at all.”

  “That’s for damn sure,” I muttered.

  “What was that?” she snapped.

  “I said, your hair looks nice.”

  Flint grinned over his shoulder.

  “Where is Reuel? The auranos?” Azrael asked.

  “Not sure. Last we spoke, he was searching to find out who Jett is.”

  “Excuse me?” Fury asked, alarmed.

  “We know Jett is an Angel of Protection reborn here on Earth into human form. Reuel’s trying to find out who he is.”

  Her eyes were puzzled. An expression I wasn’t used to seeing on her. Fury knew what we were. She knew what her son was. But it was clear in that split second, as Jett’s mother, she was having a hard time reconciling facts.

  I decided more explanation was necessary. “Reuel’s spent the last few months investigating which guardians may have recently chosen incarnation on Earth. If the angel is one of ours, he believes he’ll be able to find out who. If Jett is one of the fallen—”

  “One of the what?” The swift change in her expression from confused to dangerous made me lean cautiously away from her.

  “Fury, it’s always been a possibility,” Azrael reminded her.

  “My son is not one of the fallen.” The quiver in her voice betrayed her. “Just let it go.”

  “OK. We’ll let it go,” I said.

  Her tensed shoulders relaxed, and she gulped so hard I could see the muscles working in her neck. Fear, it seemed—at least where her son was concerned—had become a tough pill for her to swallow.

  “How is Jett?” I asked when I dared to speak again.

  As if I’d flipped a switch, Fury’s countenance brightened. “He’s good.”

  “He’s adorable,” Flint added. “Real cute kid.”

  “What’s he like?” I asked.

  “Jett is absolutely unremarkable,” she said.

  From any other mother, it would have been sad to hear. But from Fury, it was almost a relief. Her son, Jett, wasn’t human. He was an Angel of Protection—a guardian—born into human flesh. Unlike me, he’d existed since the beginning of time.

  As one of the most powerful beings on Earth, Jett being unremarkable was remarkable.

  “He’s finally sleeping through most of the night, which feels like a miracle after being a forced insomniac for the past two months,” she said.

  “I bet. Is he big?”

  She shook her head. “The doctor says he’s average size.”

  “They’re not all big,” Azrael said with a smirk.

  “I know.” And I did. Forfax—the girlfriend of my pseudo-sister, Alice—was downright dainty, and she was a guardian. I spent most of my time with Reuel though, and he could put most WWE wrestlers to shame.

  “Are the doctor’s suspicious of him?” I asked.

  “We avoid going if we can. Thankfully, he’s a healthy kid, and the only tell-tale sign he’s different would be his blood type. So far, they haven’t tested it.”

  Angels born on Earth had Rh-null blood, the “golden” blood type. It made them medical marvels—and targets.

  “Have you told John the truth?” Azrael asked.

  She frowned.

  “No, she hasn’t,” Flint said, his disdain clear in his answer. “I’m hoping Warren can talk some sense into her. About telling him, and about this suicide mission she’s hell-bent on going on.”

  I laughed. “It’s funny you think she’ll listen to me.”

  “You’ve got a better shot than anybody,” Flint said.

  I doubted that.

  “Warren, do you come to Earth often?” he asked.

  “I popped in once recently to check on some things, but the last time I spent any real time here was about eight weeks ago on this planet’s time. It was over fifteen years in Eden.”

  Fury shook her head. “How do you keep track?”

  “I do a shitty job of it.”

  “I always did too,” Azrael agreed.

  Flint let out a slow whistle. “Fifteen years? Long time.”

  “Yeah, a long time to plan a successful mission,” she said, elevating her volume.

  “I have had a lot of time to think about it and plan,” I said.

  “What have you figured out?” she asked.

  “Cassiel did most of the figuring stuff out. It’
s what she’s good at. She learned how to seal the Nulterra Gate.”

  Fury seemed impressed, if that was possible. “Do tell.”

  “The gate is made of salt. If we mix sanguinite with it and heat both until they liquefy, the substance will harden into a solid, creating a supernaturally armored plate. No more in and out at all.”

  “Where would we get enough blood stone to do it?” she asked.

  “Abaddon’s pillory.”

  Fury’s hand went to her throat, where she’d once been burned by the sanguinite punishment device. Now, only a faint band of scar tissue remained.

  “Cassiel said the pillory would be more than enough, and we won’t need it anymore after you are back on Earth.”

  “That’s genius, Warren,” Fury said.

  “Cassiel’s a genius.”

  Sanguinite was like angelic spirit in solid form. It kept a few of its original supernatural properties: an eternal memory, like with Azrael’s necklace; and most important to us right now—the ability to cross the spirit line.

  Also known as blood stone, it was created when pure angel blood was spilled and boiled, purifying it of any lingering contaminants from Earth. When worn, its supernatural energy could flow through the wearer’s bloodstream. And if worn by a mortal, it would allow passage into an immortal world.

  In its heated liquid state, sanguinite could be poured and molded into almost anything. A pendant. Handcuffs. A pillory.

  Abaddon, the Destroyer—Fury’s deceased biological Father and former Archangel of Protection—had once tried to use a sanguinite pillory on Sloan. Their plan had been to drag her into the breach and force her to give birth to Iliana there. Iliana’s unbridled power would destroy the spirit line completely, forever separating this world from the next, and freeing the demons from the watchful eye of the Father.

  It was that same pillory we would use to sneak Fury into Nulterra.

  If Flint didn’t stop her first.

  “I still think Warren’s fully capable of handling this mission on his own,” Flint said, as if on cue. “Your dad told me about the last one.”

  Azrael smiled back at me with pride. “He saved the entire nation of Malab and tracked down the most notorious serial killer in Venice.”

  My eyes drifted away. “Not before Saez killed six more innocent people.”

  Azrael stretched his arm across Flint’s seatback to turn all the way toward me. “And it would have been a lot more had it not been for you.”

  I appreciated his praise, but it was hard not to feel like a failure. Sure, I may have stopped Vito Saez and the others, but it was because of me they’d been let out of Nulterra in the first place. I couldn’t let that happen again.

  “I think we should go over our game plan,” Fury said, nudging my arm.

  I cleared my throat and straightened in my seat. “That’s a great idea.”

  “Our first meeting is with Huffman at eight. He said he’d need us for a couple of hours. After that, we should have plenty of time to pack all the gear we need to take with us.”

  Azrael raised a hand. “Save some time for me. There are things I want to show you both, and I want you to meet Chimera.”

  Fury sat forward. “She’s here?”

  “She’ll be back in town later today.”

  During my last extended visit to Earth, while I was chasing down an undead serial killer in Italy, the fallen Archangel of Knowledge, Moloch, had discovered a way into my daughter’s supernaturally secure home via its online network. He’d literally tried to upload himself into the building.

  Fortunately, one of the most intelligent beings in existence had been outsmarted by a human. Azrael’s new elusive tech guru, Chimera, had used a computer chip buried inside a stone gargoyle to trap him.

  So far, I’d never met said human, but I’d been hoping to since the battle at Wolf Gap.

  Chimera must have been as impressive in person as her legend implied because Azrael had hired her as soon as they’d met.

  “How well do you know Chimera?” I asked Fury. She was the one who’d brought Chimera into the picture, as she’d been doing investigative work about Anya’s disappearance.

  “I don’t. I’ve never even met her in person.”

  “Really?”

  Fury shrugged. “She’s a hacker. It’s not like she keeps office hours.”

  “How did you find her?”

  “I didn’t. She found me.” Fury’s eyes snapped up with alarm.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Fury looked caught. Like a kid sneaking candy.

  I pointed at her. “Not nothing. How’d she find you?” Something else occurred to me. “Or why did she find you?”

  She turned toward the window.

  “Fury?”

  “She actually found you. And Sloan,” Azrael answered.

  My brain was having a hard time processing what he might be saying. “What do you mean?”

  “Fury, I feel you’d better take that one, or you’ll regret it,” Flint said.

  Great. So everyone knew about Fury and Chimera’s relationship but me.

  With a deep breath, Fury finally turned toward me. “It was Chimera who found the video clip of Sloan.”

  Almost two years before, Fury had posted a video clip of Sloan on the news in an online Claymore forum. Because Fury was an expert at manipulating me, she’d known I would pay attention if she posted.

  It wasn’t only the first time I’d seen Sloan; it was the first time I’d seen anyone else like me—a Seramorta. Part-human. Part-angel. I’d sought Sloan out, like Fury knew I would.

  “Why would Chimera want me to find Sloan?”

  “She’s never told me. Said she had a personal interest.”

  “A personal interest?”

  “She didn’t elaborate.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I’d heard reasons from half of Claymore over the past year since Fury resurfaced in my life.

  The most repeated reason was that it was one last “F-you” to Azrael after she quit the company. He’d worked really hard to keep me and Sloan apart, including employing Fury to distract me. Defying her orders and telling me had been the final middle finger to my father.

  Another popular opinion—and Azrael’s opinion—was if Sloan and I had a child together, that baby would have the power to destroy Abaddon, Fury’s biological father. And nobody wanted Abaddon dead more than Fury.

  There were also a few more whispers…hints that she thought I deserved the truth.

  Right.

  Whatever the real reason, Fury and I had never had an honest conversation about it. Or hell, an honest conversation about anything.

  Now, she was doing a spectacular job of not making eye contact, studying the water below us like she was counting fish in the sea.

  “Allison, I want an answer.”

  Her eyes cut toward me. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? After everything, I still don’t merit using your first name?”

  “No.”

  Well, then.

  “Oh boy,” Flint said over the radio. “You two are gonna have a fun time together.”

  Fury turned toward the window, and I sat back hard in my seat.

  Azrael glanced over his shoulder. “On a much brighter note, Chimera has some very interesting theories about that sword of yours.”

  “What theories?” I asked.

  “I’ll let her explain, but you will like it.”

  At least I’d like something on this trip.

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow, Fury?” Azrael asked.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll fly to Oregon—”

  I held up a hand. “I need to fly to Asheville first. The Council wants me to see McNamara’s ex-girlfriend, Shannon.”

  “Ugh. Why?” Fury couldn’t have sounded more annoyed if she tried. Never mind the detour, Shannon drove us all crazy.

  “She’s given birth to an angel too. They want me to te
ll them,” I said.

  Fury pulled out her phone and began tapping the screen.

  “Did they give you a reason?” Azrael asked me.

  “Cassiel thinks they should know.”

  “There’s a nonstop flight from Asheville to Portland on Sunday at eight a.m.,” Fury said.

  “Commercial?” Azrael asked.

  Fury looked up. “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s dangerous,” he said.

  “Do you have a better solution?”

  “We could take the Eagle,” I suggested. “It would be easier if Fury’s traveling with firepower.”

  “For two people?” Azrael smirked. “Fury can fly alone and check her guns.”

  “That reminds me.” I turned toward Fury in my seat. “We might need some backup when we reach the island.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Cassiel and I were just there. We encountered some very unfriendly natives. A full-blown militia. A few were carrying assault rifles.”

  “Excellent news. A firing squad before you descend through the gates of Hell,” Flint muttered over the microphone.

  Fury ignored him, lost in thought.

  “Some guy was demanding payment because his daughter was killed.”

  “Who killed her?” Azrael asked.

  “Not sure. I couldn’t understand the guy. Cassiel had to translate, and she was having trouble concentrating because of the ARs trained on her face.”

  “I guess we’ll be tapping into the armory before we leave New Hope.”

  “No,” I said. “Using lethal force on humans is out of the scope of this mission. We have to find a peaceful way to get in there.”

  She turned her palms up. “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “When do you leave Oregon?” Azrael asked.

  “Monday. We’ll be on a flight with an outgoing crew to South Korea. From there we’ll fly to Manila, commercial again, and Flint will take us by helicopter from Manila to la Isla del Fuego.”

  “I’m not taking you anywhere except back to New Hope or Raleigh, where you belong,” he said, checking out his side window.

  Fury crossed her arms again. “Then I guess we’ll charter a ride when we get there.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. No daughter of mine is going up in the air with some unknown pilot.”

  “So you’ll be getting over yourself then?”

  “I’ll be working twice as hard to keep you from going.”