Rusty Nails (The Dade Gibson Case Files) (8 page)

“You wouldn’t understand if I told you. Just trust your old man for once.”

“Trust you? Not likely.”

“Here’s your mark,” Jack said pulling a Polaroid out of his coat pocket. “I’ve heard too many good things about you to expect failure. Don’t let your old man down. Put a bullet in his head. Poison his Fruit Loops. Run over him with your car. I don’t care. Just kill him. I’ll be in touch.”

Dade watched in amazement as Jack Gibson walked nonchalantly out of the room and down the steps. Everything had happened so fast it might have all been a dream. But the photo was there to anchor him to reality. Dade looked at it hesitantly and gasped at what his father was demanding of him. Yes, over the years Jack Gibson had been cruel. And yes, even a little irrational at times. But, despite the old man’s idiosyncrasies, Dade would have never expected to hear his father ask him to kill a twelve-year old kid. And yet, the face of a young sandy-haired boy was what stared back at him from the Polaroid.

Could this case get any weirder?

Chapter 15

Liz knew that Dade would be furious with her if he found out what she was about to do. But she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. She didn’t consider herself to be as good an investigator as Dade was, but she had been with him long enough to pick up some skills of the trade. Following threads of logic was one of those skills, and there was a very definite thread involving angels where Louise Hartwell was concerned. That’s why she had put on a black party dress and pointed her LeBaron toward The Zodiac Club.

Inside, it seemed the party had already started.

Two azure-winged seraphs held down one of the smaller angels in the middle of the dance floor. A crowd had gathered around to see what was going on. The industrial beat inside the club was strong, and the music had a harsh, grating quality to it. The seraphs nodded their heads to the mechanical rhythms as the cherub struggled beneath them. At first it was difficult to tell what they were doing, and then she saw the clippers. Like a sheep, they were shearing the little angel, denuding him of all his feathers. He screamed as the plumage floated lazily through the air. It wasn’t pain in his voice exactly, but a sense of humiliation. The essence of an angel was his feathers, and they were taking that away from this one, reducing him to a curiosity.

Liz turned away, embarrassed for the cherub.

“Those two do that every now and then,” a unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear.

Liz whirled around to face a powerfully built angel with a unnatural gleam in his eye. He was high on something, and it showed.

“Don’t let it scare you off,” the angel added, winking. “I’ve seen a lot worse from those two.”

“I’m really not here for conversation,” Liz said.

“Nor am I,” the angel replied, not bothering to hide the needle marks on his arms. “My name’s Pyriel, and I’m here to help you. Only I can’t really even seem to help myself at this point. So we both may be in trouble.”

“I’m Liz Desmond. And why, may I ask, are you here to help me?”

“We need to get out of here. There are those of my kind here who would like to use you as leverage against the man in your life. We should go. You aren’t safe here.”

“Why should I go with you?”

The angel seemed to struggle with this question, cocking his head to the side like a dog listening to an ultrasonic whistle. “Look, Ms. Desmond. Let me explain this the best way I know how. I’ve been doped with a very powerful street drug called Rusty Nails. The drug is used to chase away guilt. Right now, I feel absolutely no remorse. In my current state, I could do very terrible things without so much as a second thought. Those who fight against your cause did this to me in hopes that it would complicate matters. I'm doing my best to battle against the effects of the drug right now. At the same time, I’m trying to look out for you. You should understand it’s not easy. I’m at war with my own sinful nature right now, and it’s all I can do to keep myself in check.”

“So you’re high?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But you still need to come with me. There are eyes everywhere in this place. Something bad could happen to you here. Something regretful.”

There was an underlying hint of menace in his voice, and Liz knew a threat when she heard one.

“This is a very public place,” Liz reminded him. “You wouldn’t do anything to me in front of all of these people.”

Pyriel smiled. “It’s not my intent to harm you, but as I said, the drug has its hooks in me. I would feel no guilt for causing you harm right now, yet I’m determined not to. However, I think I’m probably the least of your worries. Just about everyone in here is preoccupied with their own vices, and those who aren’t probably wouldn’t ride to your rescue out of some sense of virtue. You’re on your own here, and there are quite a few angels who know it. Angels who are far worse than me.”

“What is it you want?”

The question seemed to catch the angel off guard. He sighed. “Truthfully, all I want is a little peace. But there are those of my kind who have other ideas. I’m a slave to the needle, and someone holds my leash now.”

“Who are you working for?” Liz asked.

The angel shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m still doing my best to serve Heaven, but someone else has other ideas. All I know is someone introduced me to this addiction and now they have control over me. You’d be surprised the sorts of things you’d be willing to do if your inhibitions were taken away.”

“I assume this has something to do with the Richard Edgemore case.”

The angel winced as if locked in some sort of internal mental battle with himself. “To be honest, I don’t really know. I’m merely a soldier in this war. I don’t question my orders. I just do my best to carry them out. I’m trying to keep myself under control. But it’s very difficult. You’d be frightened by some of the thoughts that keep going through my mind right now. Skinning you alive is one. Using you as my introduction to human sexuality is another.”

Liz took a step back. “Stay away from me.”

The angel grunted. “These thoughts aren’t my own. It’s surprisingly easy to be evil if you feel no guilt. The drug is to blame.”

“Who do you work for?” Liz asked again as she took a mental inventory of the items in her purse. So far the only potential weapon that came to mind was a nail file. It didn’t seem like much defense against an angel.

“I am an angel of light. I still consider myself one of the good guys.”

“The good guys I know don’t talk about skinning people or raping helpless women.”

Pyriel nodded solemnly. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe I’m not that pious after all if those kinds of thoughts were truly inside me, waiting to surface when my inhibitions were at their lowest.”

“Just tell me what you need to tell me and then go away. That will prove you’re a good guy.”

“Louise Hartwell isn’t the kind of woman you want to mess with. If your boyfriend is involved with her, he’s in trouble. I’m telling you that as an angel of the Lord and as a slave to the crucifixion drug.”

Liz froze. “How do you know about Louise Hartwell? I didn‘t tell you anything about that.”

“I‘m an angel,” Pyriel said. “It’s my business to know. It’s also my business to help Now, do you want to know what I know? Or would you rather watch your boyfriend get murdered in cold blood?”

“You’ve threatened to skin me alive and rape me. Why would I go with you?”

“Because you love your boyfriend more than yourself, and you would risk your life for his. Besides, this place isn’t exactly a temple of virtue. The fact that I haven’t acted on either of my thoughts should prove to you that I won’t hurt you.”

“Do I really have a choice here,” Liz said.

“You always have a choice,” Pyriel said. “I won’t force you although I could. The decision is yours. Just remember that things will be much more difficult for Dade if he has to deal with the complexities of this situation while simultaneously trying to save your life.”

Liz sighed. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Pyriel nodded and headed toward the exit. Neither of them were prepared for the crazed twins that blocked their way out. Both of the seraphim were heavily muscled, cover in tribal tattoos, and leering at them with yellow cat’s eyes.

“See what I mean?” Pyriel said. “There are those out there who are worse than me.”

“We could have some fun with this one,” the brothers said in unison.

Liz started to run, but the twins were too quick. Pyriel was too intoxicated to be of much help, but he did manage to land a couple of punches before one of the twins grabbed him from behind and slammed his head into the concrete floor. Liz screamed, but the sound was short lived. It was the last thing she remembered before the world turned black.

Chapter 16

The junkyard was largely deserted which was perfect for a clandestine rendezvous to discuss the future. Rows of broken-down cars were stacked on end. Metal debris littered the labyrinthine pathways. Rats scurried from one oxidized heap of steel to another. Ruin and disarray were the ruling lords of this place, and Samael couldn’t have chosen any better caretakers if he had personally hand-picked them himself.

“I assume that you brought what I asked you to,” the seer said as they walked into the dusky shadows.

“It’s in the bag,” Samael replied. “Let’s just hope you know what to do with it.”

Samael, apparently, had already staked the place out long before now, and he seemed to instinctively know where to go, winding his way through the remains of carburetors and engine blocks and transmissions that littered the junkyard like the entrails of a massive metal god.

Someone had possessed the foresight to set up a table in the middle of a circle of old crushed cars, and for that Lilith was thankful. It would have made the ritual so much harder to perform without one. Although she hadn’t noticed it at first, angels were perched in the backseats and open trunks, studying her every movement with fascination like magpies crowding a telephone wire.

“Let’s see what Richard Edgemore has to tell us, shall we?” Samael whispered, pouring the bones out onto the table. “My veins are screaming to know what he knew.”

Lilith studied the remains carefully, spreading the bones out, her heart racing a little at the sight.

“I need a crow.”

“Are you sure?”

Lilith nodded. “I think so”

Samael scowled. It wasn’t a good sign. Reluctantly, he stood up and stretched his wings, scanning the horizon for any sign of a carrion bird. Like an outfielder climbing the wall to make an amazing catch, he snatched a bird out of the air. The crow was bleeding from a mark in its breast where Samael’s talon had pierced it. Lilith dug her fingers into the wound and tore the bird apart, ignoring the shrill squawks and the furious last burst of energy that the creature expended in an attempt to get away. The blood ran through her fingers as she tore the entrails out and scattered them over Edgemore’s bones. Samael looked on curiously as Lilith’s pupils faded to black. The first words out of her mouth were unexpectedly deep for a woman, but Samael understood that it was Edgemore speaking, not her.

“I’m not telling you anything, so don’t even ask,” Edgemore said sternly, using Lilith’s mouth.

“I don’t think that’s the answer you want to stick with,” the angel growled, running his scarred fingers over the bloody bones.

“You don’t frighten me,” Edgemore replied sharply. Samael snapped one of the bones in half to show that he meant what he said. Lilith howled in pain, a surrogate for Edgemore’s anguish.

“Still want to be stubborn?” the red-plumed angel asked. “I can make eternity miserable for you. You can rest in peace…or not at all. The choice is yours.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to know about the little secret you’ve been carrying around with you in that decaying brain of yours. I want to know about Rusty Nails. How did you even get mixed up with the drug in the first place?”

Edgemore sighed. Coming from the seer’s lips the sound was almost erotic. “I ran with the wrong crowd. Got mixed up with a few really bad angels. One thing led to another.”

“Another angel is behind this?” Samael asked, immediately growing suspicious.

“I didn’t say that,” replied. “Or then again, maybe I did. Maybe I don’t even remember how I got mixed up in all of this.”

“You remember.”

“The devil made me do it,” Edgemore said with a chuckle.

“Stop tinkering with me,” Samael growled. “My patience is wearing thin with you.”

“How about answering a question for me then?”

Samael’s eyes narrowed. It was clear he was growing desperate. “Fine,” he said. “What?”

“What made you even want to try the drug in the first place?”

“It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out. I’m the angel of death. I’ve killed billions. And, yes, I know it’s my job, my place in the grand scheme of things. But it’s a depressing job at times. Have you ever looked into the weeping eyes of a young mother after you’ve taken her newborn? Have you ever seen the way children cry when they learn their father won’t be coming home again? Do you know how hard it is to watch the unnatural process of parents burying their children? There are times when my job is more of an injustice than a necessity, and I feel guilt just like anyone else. I heard murmurings about the drug, and thought it would be worth a shot. Guilt is a powerful master, you know?”

Lilith stared at Samael from across the table, her eyes burning with what might have been anger or desire. For a moment, the death angel wasn’t sure who exactly was staring at him: Edgemore or Lilith. Then Edgemore took over. “That was more honest than I was expecting from you. Because of that, I’ll let you in on something.”

Samael took a deep breath. It was clear he was relieved that his little confession had done as he had intended and established a small measure of trust between him and Edgemore. “Lucifer’s disappeared,” Edgemore said from somewhere deep within Lilith.

“I haven’t heard anything about that,” Samael said, not bothering to hide his disbelief.