It was hard to remember that he was gone. So much had happened in the last few days that the girl who lost Patrick was like a dream. We had sat in this room and gorged on pizza and bitched about J.B.’s predilection for paperwork and that had seemed like the most important thing in the world. Would Patrick even know the person who stood here now, the person who had just behaved not like Madeline Black, but like the daughter of Lord Azazel?
I heard Gabriel reenter the room behind me and I carefully wiped my face of tears before I turned. His face was like stone.
“Lord Azazel would be happy to receive you in his court later this morning, my lady,” Gabriel said.
“Not that crap, again,” I said. “Listen, I’m sorry I acted so high-handed before ...”
He lowered his eyes from mine. “But you were correct. In Lord Azazel’s realm you are akin to a princess, and I no better than a peasant. I should not show undue familiarity with my betters.”
“I had no right to talk to you that way, no matter what I am in Lord Azazel’s realm.”
He looked up at me again, and some of the ice had melted. “The court is a very different place, and we must get into the practice of behaving correctly.”
“I hope you won’t let me make some stupid blunder that will get us both killed,” I said.
“That all depends on if you will actually listen to my advice,” he murmured.
“Are you trying to imply that I don’t listen well?” I asked.
His lips quirked, but he wisely chose not to respond to my question. “Since you are akin to a princess, perhaps you should change into something a little more presentable?”
I looked down at myself and realized I was still wearing my baggy sweats over my nightgown. My feet had been bare when I ran outside after J.B., and now they were covered with dirt and grass.
“And when I looked like this, you couldn’t resist me?” I asked incredulously.
“My lady, I would find you irresistible in any costume,” he said.
“Watch out, buddy, or some might think that you are getting familiar with your betters,” I said, my cheeks reddening. I headed to my room to change into something “more presentable.”
“I would like to be a great deal more familiar with you,” he murmured.
I gave him no sign that I heard him, but I could not stop the smile that spread across my face.
14
TWENTY MINUTES LATER I STOOD NERVOUSLY NEXT TO Gabriel in my postage stamp of a backyard. Beezle perched on the railing of the back porch, arms crossed and looking desperately unhappy. He had spent several minutes telling me that my father was, essentially, an untrustworthy scumbag. I’d patted and comforted him as best I could and assured him that I was too smart to be fooled by Azazel. But he was still distressed and most definitely did not want me in Azazel’s territory.
Beezle’s attitude had done nothing to reduce my worry. For all of my bravado, I was scared stiff at the prospect of meeting my father. I had no idea what kind of reception I’d get.
Gabriel spoke. “When I open the portal, we will have but a few moments to take advantage. It requires a great deal of magical energy to open and direct the portal to our location, so it is urgent that you step into the portal immediately. I will follow once I am certain you are safely inside, and then I will close the door behind me.”
“What’s going to happen once I’m in the portal?” I asked.
“It will not be comfortable,” Gabriel averred.
Beezle let out a little caw of laughter. “That’s the understatement of the century. You’re going to feel like your head is being squeezed between two cast-iron pans wielded by a sumo wrestler.”
“Beezle, I don’t know where you get your similes but that is definitely conjuring up some weird imagery,” I said.
“It is not quite that bad,” Gabriel said.
“It will be for her,” Beezle snapped. “She’s half human; you’re not. Your body is designed to withstand this kind of rigor.”
For the first time Gabriel looked uncertain. “Surely my lord Azazel would have thought of this. He would not risk Madeline’s well-being.”
“I’m not certain that he wouldn’t,” Beezle said darkly.
I held both of my hands up in a “stop” motion. “All right, all right. Look, the more we stand here talking about it, the worse I feel. Let’s just get it over with. If my head gets squashed, then at least Ramuell won’t have a chance to eat me.”
“And that’s going to be a real comfort to me,” Beezle said, his face twisted up in unhappiness and anger.
“Beezle,” I said, and I crooked my finger at him. He flew to me and wrapped his little arms around my neck, and tears pricked in my eyes. He was the only creature in the world whom I had loved and who had loved me all those long years without my mother. “I will come back to you in one piece.”
“You’d better,” he sniffed. Then he pulled away and turned to Gabriel, pointing a claw in the half angel’s face. “If one hair of her head is harmed, I am holding you accountable.”
Gabriel swept into a bow. “I give you my word that I will keep her safe.”
Beezle looked as though he didn’t think too much of Gabriel’s word, but he nodded anyway and returned to his perch.
“My lady?” Gabriel said.
My heart was in my mouth so I just gave a frozen nod.
Gabriel said a few words in another language. It wasn’t the harsh syllables of the demons’ tongue, but something lovelier and more ethereal. As I listened, I felt that I could almost understand it, like the translation was just out of reach, tickling the back of my brain.
A moment later an opening appeared in the air before me, growing longer and wider quickly. The hole was filled with swirling white mist.
“Step inside,” Gabriel said.
Two cast-iron pans wielded by a sumo wrestler,
I thought, and then said, “What the hell.”
I stepped inside.
Immediately my body was sucked forward as if into a vacuum tube. The skin of my face was pushed back until my teeth were bared. My lungs gasped for air. And yes, the pressure between my ears was so intense that it did feel like my head had been clamped between iron. All around me was wind and white mist, like I was caught inside a tornado.
All I wanted was for the pain to end. And abruptly it did. I tumbled out of the tornado and crashed onto a cold marble floor. Half a second later, Gabriel appeared beside me, stepping coolly out of the portal just before it closed.
“How come you didn’t crash?” I asked sulkily as he helped me to my feet.
“I have done this a few times,” he said, looking around as he spoke.
I followed suit. We had landed in some kind of antechamber, a small room with double doors at the east and west ends. The floor was black marble, the walls a stark white. There were no paintings, sculptures or decorations of any kind except on the doors. The doors were a heavy dark wood, polished to a high gloss. In the center of each set of doors was carved a large five-pointed star, and crossed over the star was a sword with a rose wrapped around its hilt. Outside the eastern set of doors was a small bench, with cherry legs and a red velvet cushion.
There was no one to greet us, and no movement from behind the doors. I felt a little tremor of nerves in my stomach. I was about to meet my father.
“I know it is not in your nature, but
please
hold your tongue and let me speak when we enter your father’s court,” Gabriel said as we approached the eastern set of doors.
“Afraid I’ll start a civil war?” I asked dryly.
“Something of that nature,” he said. “And you must not mention Evangeline unless you are alone with Lord Azazel. My lord has not revealed your visions to Lord Lucifer as of yet.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little . . . seditious?”
“Quite probably,” Gabriel replied. “But Lord Azazel knows what he is about. He is understandably wary of drawing Lord Lucifer’s attention to you. Finally, you must not be too familiar with me when we enter the court.”
“Why not?”
“I am your inferior. It would be seen as an insult both to Lord Azazel and to yourself were I to behave as your equal.”
He sounded so matter-of-fact that it pissed me off. “You are not my inferior in any way.”
“To the Grigori, the fallen, the demonic, I am. This is a very different world you are about to enter, Madeline. Be careful where you tread.”
Just as he reached for the silver doorknob, the handle turned on its own. The door opened inward and a surprisingly familiar figure stepped out.
“You!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”
Ms. Greenwitch narrowed her eerie gray eyes at me. “I could ask the same of you, cursed one.”
I heard Gabriel’s sharp intake of breath beside me. “Whatever. I don’t really care why you’re here. You just keep the hell away from me.”
“Madeline,” Gabriel said in an undertone. “You must not be so disrespectful. She is ...”
“Disrespectful?” I said, my voice rising. “This crazy bitch blasted me for no apparent reason the last time I saw her.”
The door was slightly ajar behind Ms. Greenwitch and I heard a rustle of movement from inside.
“She did what?” Gabriel asked, looking from my furious face to Ms. Greenwitch’s stony one.
“She blasted me. I tried to shake her hand and she lost her mind. Those bruises I had on me the last time you healed me weren’t just from Ramuell.”
“Obviously I didn’t use enough power on you,” Ms. Greenwitch said icily. “I will take care to remedy that the next time.”
“Cease at once,” Gabriel hissed. “Both of you. Your lives are in danger if you continue this quarrel. Lady Greenwitch, this is Lord Azazel’s daughter.”
Greenwitch blanched. “What?
She
is his daughter?”
“I’m guessing you didn’t check my references thoroughly enough,” I said snidely.
“And Lady Greenwitch,” Gabriel said, turning to me, “is the mother of Lord Azazel’s only son, Antares.”
I was confused. How could this woman, witch or otherwise, be the mother of that monster? But anger overrode my curiosity.
“You’re Antares’s mother? You? You need to keep that jackass on a shorter leash,” I said, furious.
“Now do you see the danger?” Gabriel said to Greenwitch.
“I did not . . . I did not know,” Greenwitch said, her hand over her heart. “I had the vision . . . The vision I had did not show her origins, only her curse. Lord Azazel has always been careful to disguise her identity—I could not know!”
“Nevertheless,” a voice said behind her, a voice so melodic and beautiful that it made me dizzy to hear it. “You have broken the word of Lord Azazel, and so must be punished.”
The double doors swung open and revealed a crowd of about twenty people, all avidly listening to our conversation. At the forefront was a man so blindingly beautiful that I had to close my eyes and turn my head away for a moment. When I reopened them and turned back, his shine seemed to have dulled a bit, enough that I could look at him and the assemblage gathered behind him.
There were no demons in this crowd. Each figure was clearly one of the fallen. Every one, male and female, had soft golden hair and dark blue eyes filled with a deep canvas of stars. Every one was surrounded by a soft aura of light and warmth. They were dressed in modern clothing—very expensive and chic modern clothing that looked incongruous next to the enormous white wings folded at their backs. I felt bereft without my wings, like the only one without a gun at a gunfight. Especially when I realized that Gabriel’s wings, usually hidden beneath his omnipresent black coat, had appeared sometime after we had arrived in the antechamber.
The leader of the group was very tall, even taller than Gabriel, who outstripped me by at least a foot. Every feature was perfect, but there was no warmth in his face, only the coldness of stone. It diminished the effect of his beauty somewhat.
“Lady Greenwitch,” he said, and reached out to grip her by the elbow. She looked like she was about to faint. He handed her off to someone standing behind her and the crowd moved farther into the room, the murmuring of their voices like the tinkling of silver bells.
“What’s happening?” I hissed to Gabriel.
He shook his head at me, as if to say, “Not now.”
“Yes, now,” I whispered.
He gave another little headshake as the leader turned back to me. The fallen angel gave me an embarrassingly deep bow.
“My lady Madeline. It is my greatest honor to welcome you to your father’s court.” He reached for my hand and I sidled out of reach, put off by his obsequious manner. Annoyance flared in his eyes but he banked it quickly, so quickly I almost thought I imagined it.
“And you are?” I asked.
“Forgive me, my lady. You are correct. I am Nathaniel, Lord Azazel’s most trusted advisor, and he has asked me to escort you to his presence.” He looked at Gabriel and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “You are also to report to Lord Azazel, thrall.”