Sons of Angels (24 page)

Harold fetched fresh cups from the cupboard. “I thought you knew all the planes bisecting this one?”

“I do.” Jasfoup poured water into the teapot. “I just provided a generic description. There are dozens and they all look very similar. I don’t know which one she’s feeding from.”

“Feeding?” Julie frowned. “That’s an odd term.”

“Is it?” Jasfoup sat in front of her and took her hand. “Gillian feeds on blood to fuel her vampirism. Felicia and her friend feed on meat to fuel their shape-shifting and you feed on souls to fuel your magic.”

Harold moistened his lips. “What do I feed on?”

“Chocolate rice.” Gillian smacked him on the arm. “They’re all over the bed.”

“You’re special, Harold.” Jasfoup added milk to the cups and began pouring tea. “It works differently for you.”

“That’s horrible.” Julie shuddered. “Am I really eating the dead?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Jasfoup passed a cup to Harold. “It doesn’t make you a bad person, though. You’ve got a link with that realm for a reason. This is probably it.”

“But which of the clans is she?” Jenna moved around the table. “She’s a seer, but a magician as well. She eats souls like a demon but not blood like a vampire.”

“A new clan?” Harold raised an eyebrow. “A hybrid?”

“One of the lost clans Taliel was talking about?” Felicia stood, wincing as she put weight onto her injured leg. “That would explain why an angel wants to kill her.”

“No.” Jasfoup added sugar to his tea. “The lost tribe were giants. They all perished in the Flood.”

Harold took the sugar. “Whatever she is, she’s special. We need to protect her until we find out what’s going on.”

“Agreed.” Felicia gave Julie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Quite apart from her being my sister, I want someone who can make these fetiches on our side.”

“Thank you. I’m glad someone values my contribution.”

“We all do.” Harold sipped his tea and reached for the sugar bowl again. “I don’t suppose you could enchant my sword against angels, could you? They seem awfully tough to go up against.”

“I’ll try. I haven’t found anything about enchantments yet.”

“Just what is this book?” Jenna studied the blind woman. “Every spell you ever needed? Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that it turns up just as we need it?”

Gillian gave a snap of laughter. “Who’s this ‘we’? I don’t remember inviting you to join us, dog-face.”

“Listen, leech. We’re all in this together. It’s not just wolves he’s after. He wants you suckers as well.”

“He does, actually.” Felicia nodded. “He came into the gallery before all this happened and pretended to buy your paintings. I think he was really just looking for a way of finding you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I forgot.” Felicia shrugged. “Sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind. It wasn’t until yesterday Harold told me that you were Gillian du Point. I didn’t know before.”

“Would it have hurt you to mention it? Just because you’re a werewolf, it doesn’t mean that you have to have the attention span of a puppy.”

“I resent that. I’ve had a lot more to deal with than–”

“Enough!” Jasfoup’s retort cut through the rising hubbub. “The dog is right. We’re all in this together. One for all and all that guff. Now. Who wants a nice cup of tea?”

“Me, please.” Harold passed his already empty cup. “I’ll sit over here, though. There seems to be a large amount of blood on that table. Whose is that?”

“Mine?” Felicia lifted her leg.

“How is it?” Gillian looked over her shoulder. “It should be healing by now.”

“It is.” Felicia pressed at the two discs of fresh skin where the holes were. “It’s still tender, mind.”

“Good.” Gillian signaled Wrack to put the toolbox away. “Be more careful in future. The next dart of celestial fire might drill through somewhere more vital.” She looked at Felicia’s crotch, which made her cheeks burn.

“Who’s hungry?” Jasfoup opened a cupboard and pulled out a stack of take-away menus.

Gillian shook her head. “Not I, though I’ll take the dogs out for a tramp in the woods if you like.”

“I’d rather have a sheep again.” Felicia grinned.

“None of you are going anywhere.” Harold grabbed the menus and spread them out on the table. “Not with an angel on the loose.”

“He won’t be back tonight, Harold.” Jasfoup picked up the Italian. “He’s had one go today. He probably needs a bit of a kip now.”

Harold shook his head. “That’s what they always say in horror movies. ‘I bet the mad chainsaw-wielding serial killer has gone home for his dinner now. The zombies won’t attack just before dawn. The vampires were scared away by the garlic.’”

The demon sat at the table. “I like a good comedy.”

“Look.” Gillian leaned forward, her weight on her hands. “There are three of us hunting. Let me take an imp, then if we get into trouble, we can send him back for reinforcements.”

“That sounds reasonable.” Jasfoup looked at Harold. “Let them take John. He’s brilliant at running away.”

“All right.” Harold held his hands up in defeat. “I’m staying here, though. I want a curry.”

“Now I feel hungry.” Julie looked at him and winked. “I’ll have a chicken dansak.”

“You should eat plenty.” The demon picked up a menu. “Channeling magic isn’t for kids.” He scanned the list of meals as an imp gate opened. “I want four Happy Dinners. Make sure the toys are different.”

John the imp dropped onto the table, careful not to dip his hooves in blood. He looked around at the assembled nephilim and stared at Wrack.

“Wow.” He buffed his claws on his shoulder ridge. “Wotcha, ’andsome.”

Chapter 26

Felicia watched as Jenna headed out of the door, shifting almost immediately into her half-were form. She watched the older woman’s buttocks as she ran, the muscles shifting under her pants in a most provocative manner. With John on her shoulder, she and Gillian followed at a more sedate pace.

“She’s pretty.” Gillian watched the young woman loping down the drive.

Felicia followed her gaze. “Jenna?”

“Yes.” Gillian paused. “Has she a claim on you?”

Felicia shrugged. “Not that I’m aware of. We had sex. She turned me into what I am.”

“Do you always like them young?”

Felicia became defensive. “As long as they’re adults. I like their pliancy, their willingness to please.”

Gillian laughed. “I’m certainly neither young nor pliant. Some would consider me vintage.” She ran a red fingernail down Felicia’s cheek. “Do you find me desirable?”

“Well yes, of course.” Felicia blushed. “But I thought you were happy with Harold?” She gestured to the house, where Harold was ordering take-away. He was ordering, though she gathered he’d send Devious to do the actual taking away.

“I am.” Gillian cupped Felicia’s cheek. “But there’s no denying my nature. He knows I’m bisexual.”

“I’m not, though.” Felicia took a step back. “I’m not comfortable with being with you after you’ve been with him.”

Gillian laughed. “Fair enough. I’ve not been with him today. I’d only just risen and hunted when I got your call about the fight.”

“I didn’t call.” Felicia thought about the phone in her pocket. It hadn’t even occurred to her during the fight.

“Yes, you did.” Gillian tapped Felicia’s heart. “I heard your scream.”

“How?” Felicia tore her gaze away from Gillian’s dark eyes. “I’m not your scion or anything.”

“Nevertheless, we have a connection.”

“Why don’t you get on with hunting?” John tapped Felicia’s shoulder. “Then we can get back.”

Gillian glared at him. “We were having a conversation. What’s your problem?”

“I just want to get back to the house, that’s all.” John looked in the direction Jenna had taken. “Look! She’s half a mile ahead already.”

Gillian shook her head. “We’ll talk later, after we’ve hunted.” She began to run across the lawn toward the town.

“Wait!” Felicia broke into a run as well. “Isn’t the sheep field the other way?”

“You can’t keep hunting in the same place. People will get suspicious. Before you know it, there’ll be someone waiting for you with a gun.”

“So?” Felicia grinned. “Unless they’ve loaded it with silver bullets, I’ll survive.”

“And then they’ll hunt the wounded dog. A hunt that will expose you and eventually kill you unless you keep on running. That sheep field belongs to one of our neighbors. How long before he looks to us for the killer? Then we become exposed as well. If you want to leave, fine, but I will not allow you to jeopardize our life here.” She sped up, putting a hundred yards between them.

They crossed the Old Oxford road and headed down the bank onto the river path. It headed in the right direction and kept them off the streets and away from curious eyes. As the trees along the bank faded from oaks and beeches into cultivated hedges, they entered the royal park by the south gate, heading west toward the town. The chimes of St. Pity’s sounded the hour as Felicia caught up.

“I’m sorry.” Felicia settled into an easy, loping pace. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

“I know.” Gillian flashed her a smile. “If you want an easy kill, ask one of the imps for food. They’ll go to the supermarket. If you want to hunt and hone your skills, you need something a little more challenging than sheep.” She led her through Market Square toward Cheapside, and slowed her pace.

“Such as?” Felicia looked up the road. The clubs had begun to empty, discharging revelers into the streets. “I don’t want to kill people.”

“Not even the ones that want to die?” Gillian stopped. “I felt like you once. When I was a fledgling, I tried to live on rats and sheep but you’ll never grow strong like that. Sometimes people want to die. We can help.”

“It’s still murder.”

“In this world, perhaps.” Gillian put an arm around Felicia’s shoulders. “I was cynical about the whole concept of other planes once. I believed our spirits went somewhere else when we died but gave no thought where, just labeled it Heaven and put it out of mind. Now I know Hell exists, I can kill without compunction if I do it for the greater good.”

“What greater good? Bad people, you mean? Murderers and rapists and the like?”

“Those too.” Gillian tilted her head to one side, “but I was thinking of suicides. Did you know it was a mortal sin to commit suicide?

“I remember, yeah. What about it?”

“I kill those who desire death. The Wailing Wood is full enough with those I didn’t help. I can at least spare those I kill from that.”

“What Wailing Wood? You’ve lost me completely.”

“There’s a circle of Hell called the Wailing Wood. You can ask Jasfoup about it if you like. All the suicides end up as twisted trees–”

“–and bleed for eternity, mocked by flocks of harpies,” said Felicia. “I’ve read Dante too. Are you saying it’s real?”

Gillian shrugged. “I’ve never been to Hell so I can’t say for definite. It’s Jasfoup’s home, though, so I tend to trust what he says about it.”

“So you kill potential suicides to stop them being trees?”

“Yes.” Gillian shrugged. “Not the most noble of callings, I admit, but I rarely kill. There’s no point in reducing my herd needlessly.”

“So what do you do?”

“I call those who wish to give me blood. Watch.”

She turned in a slow circle, a look of concentration upon her angular features. “There.” She pointed toward the Darkside, a club for people who wanted a little pain with their pleasure. As Felicia watched, a woman came out, hardly dressed for the chill of the evening. She was middle aged, her bare breasts bursting from a tightly laced corset. She acted like a sleepwalker but walked straight up to Gillian and stopped.

“Are you sure you want to see this?”

Felicia nodded. “We’re all monsters on the inside.”

Gillian placed one hand on the woman’s neck and the other on her shoulder, guiding her to expose the artery. Her canines slid down as she opened her mouth, extending a full three inches as she sank her teeth into the willing victim.