Forbidden (33 page)

Dante moved into the room, glancing through the open double doors that led into a high-ceilinged room with dark-paneled walls. Formerly a home library, the guys converted it into a game room with flat-screen TVs, pool tables, couches, video games, and every electronic device Santiago could get his greedy little hands on. Shelves were crammed with speakers, amps, electric guitars, and toys with various handheld controls. A wireless helicopter circled the Microsoft coffee table while a three-foot mechanical T rex held a butler’s tray and stomped a circle around the table.

One of the supersized screens had been shattered days ago, a Guitar Hero guitar protruding from the center like bad urban art. Wolfgang hated to lose.

Dante noticed a second screen had recently been broken and the cracks curiously resembled the outline of Santiago.

Dante didn’t care for such distractions, and hardly understood what electronics were for. Only that they were an indulgence to keep the others preoccupied.

“Where is the kid?” he asked as he reached the sitting area where Wolfgang and Vaughn were waiting.

Wolfgang grunted. “Oh, he’s hanging around.”

A playing card fluttered to the ground, and Dante looked up. There was Santiago, hanging by the neck from the rafters. His entire body had been pelted with playing cards. A human porcupine. He was plucking them out one-by-one and tossing them down.

“ ’Sup, Dante?” he said hoarsely. The noose was slowly constricting on its own and choking him.

“It appears that you are, kid. I told you to let him win at these games once in a while.” Dante reclined in the third chair in the grouping, and noticed his friends staring at him. “What?”

“A haunted house?” Wolfgang scowled.

“Sounds good to me,” Vaughn said. “I’ve already called on some old friends to spook around the place. You know, for—what do they call it these days—
special
effects.”

Dante had finally met Vaughn’s condition; he’d found something to occupy Vaughn’s time
and
ease his demonic urges. In his former human life, Vaughn had loved intrigue and magic. Dante’s haunted house, with its seemingly innocent pranks, could possibly scare the living hell out of the kids. It would be as close to inflicting pain as Vaughn would get on this trip. And Affliction’s craving might be met without Vaughn having to cut himself.

“I have a surprise or two for the kids of Haven Hurst High.” Vaughn wiggled his eyebrows, and Wolfgang chuckled.

Dante was apprehensive, knowing Affliction’s evil streak could expose them. “Do not bring back anyone famous,” he warned. “I won’t have people suspicious. And for hell’s sake do not call up Jack. I couldn’t tolerate that conceited English bastard lurking around the catacombs, and I certainly do not want him up here now.”

“Right.” Vaughn grinned and winked at Wolfgang.

“So what was going on with that girl tonight?” Wolfgang jumped in aggressively.

Dante felt tension creep into his chest. He knew Wolfgang was trying to provoke him. Impatience was not subtle.

“If you mean Sophia, I told you what I was doing.”

“You said you asked her to the dance to get invited inside her house, to get closer to the pastor. That’s what you said.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Did you get inside? ’Cause I think we’re done playing games with the pastor. Not that I don’t like giving him nightmares. Don’t get me wrong. But are you preparing for a possession or what? Shouldn’t you make the next move?”

“I am taking care of the pastor!” Dante argued. He didn’t want Wolfgang suspicious but he didn’t want him breathing down his neck, either.

“So why spend half the night slobbering over the pastor’s daughter?”

“What better way to torture a victim than to possess the one he loves? Hmm?” Dante said, thinking on his toes. Wolfgang’s eyes narrowed speculatively.

“Yeah, well, that’s what I thought you were doing. But you could’ve told me. Besides, she changed tonight. She smelled different when she came back from taking photos. There was something different in her eyes, too.” He leaned forward and spoke slowly and deliberately to make his point. “If
you
want to be the one to possess her, you’d better try harder.”

It was a challenge hanging between them, a red flag to a bull. Dante knew Impatience was itching for a fight.

He also recognized the truth in Wolfgang’s statement. Something, or more likely
someone
, affected Sophia tonight. When she’d returned to him, she was different, withdrawn and distant. He couldn’t get close enough to manipulate her. He was sick with regret that he had missed a prime opportunity to kiss her during their first dance. He had pushed his powers of persuasion to the brink, effecting only dizziness and disorientation. Anyone else would have collapsed in his arms, malleable as warm clay.

Dante had gotten cocky, thinking he would have another chance at her. A mistake
he wasn’t going to repeat.

In the end, he realized Sophia hadn’t been purposely resisting him. Not on her own anyway. Something deep inside her was guarding the place he was after. Something too powerful for him to counteract. Sending his toxin through the air wouldn’t be enough to bring about her submission, to return her memories as he had hoped. No, he
had
to kiss her, at least once.

“So what’s her problem?” Vaughn asked, bandaging is hand with a cloth kept in his back pocket.

“There
is
no problem,” Dante said.

“Well, I have a problem,” Wolfgang grunted. “Street racing wasn’t enough to entertain me; I’m getting bored. And we don’t like me bored. If you don’t Take the pastor soon, I just might have my own fun with the girl.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fresh meat always staves off my craving to—”

“You will not touch her!” Persuasion surfaced, flaring Dante’s green eyes with black and yellow flecks.

Impatience elongated Wolfgang’s nails and emitted a feral growl from his chest. “You have no authority over me, Dante. Remember that.”

“And you have no authority to disregard The Order,” Dante countered. “You are not allowed to Take
anyone
on this trip.”

“I didn’t say I would take her soul, just that I would take
care
of her. And since when have you been worried about obeying The Order? If they knew all you’ve done so far is plague the pastor with pathetic nightmares, they’d drag you back down today. Probably assign the job to me instead.”

Unfortunately, this was true. If Dante didn’t make a move on the pastor soon, Brutus and The Order might become suspicious. Might hand off the death contract to Wolfgang or Vaughn. Or worse, send up a reaper to finish the job.

“What in hell’s name are you waiting for?” Wolfgang demanded.

Several more playing cards fluttered down and Dante checked on Santiago. He gave the kid about five minutes. “We will do this right,” Dante said. “We will prove to The Order that we have reformed our old ways. I withheld the reason they took so long to agree to the petition. There was a debate … not just about us, but about the pastor. It seems … well, The Council of Guardians has not,
specifically
, released his soul.”

“What!” Vaughn yelled. “But you have a death contract. That means—”

“That means The Order
expects
The Council to surrender the soul. Not that they have.”

They fell silent, digesting Dante’s disturbing news. It was another unprecedented
twist.

“Why hasn’t The Council released his soul if the pastor’s sin is unforgivable?” Wolfgang asked.

“Extenuating circumstances. So you see, I am working the girl, trying to possess her as another angle on the pastor. I want to weaken his resolve just in case The Council interferes.”

Dante watched Wolfgang closely, hoping he believed the part about Sophia.

“So possess her already,” Wolfgang said.

“I have tried. Her spirit is unwilling. Sometimes she is open and I can see she would be easy to possess but it’s fragmented, like shards of moving glass. There is no willing entry.”

“Sounds like she’s already possessed,” Vaughn said, chuckling.

“I bet
I
could do it,” Wolfgang charged.

“
You
will stay away from her,” Dante ordered. “I told you before, I am not losing this chance because you lack self-control!” The last thing Dante needed was Wolfgang interfering and killing Sophia too soon. Her soul would be sent out of his reach, again. No, the plan was to bend her will until she submitted freely of her own choice. But bend it by any means necessary.

“I am doing this
my
way, Wolf,” Dante said. “However long it takes. So you will stand aside because no one is stopping me. Especially you. Are we clear?”

Dante hoped he hadn’t pushed Impatience too far, hoped Wolfgang wouldn’t become too suspicious and make plans of his own.

Wolfgang grunted his disapproval. “Yeah? Well,
you
be clear about something then; Impatience will simmer for only so long before things start to burn. You have been warned.” They stared without blinking until Wolfgang backed down. “So that’s why you let an angel strike you without retaliation? ’Cause the Dante I know would have attacked without hesitation. Would have walked away wanting more.”

“I maintained control, Wolf. Something you should look into.”

“It wasn’t right. All because of that girl. Just because she can see into both realms. It don’t make her special; it makes her a freak—”

“They had guardian blades. Do you know the chances of defeating angels armed with holy weapons
and
remaining on the surface? Huh?
Nessuno
.”

“Besides,” Vaughn added, “it’s obvious Michael’s in over his head. He’s keeping secrets from his brothers. Michael was purposely provoking us into battle to send us below before we could take our victim. He’s not stupid.”

“All the more reason to strike!” Wolfgang yelled. “Dante, you said Michael has
all the signs of turning Grigori. If that’s true, they’ll be after him before you can get revenge.”

“And what better revenge?” Dante reclined and steepled his fingers against his pursed lips. Wolfgang and Vaughn exchanged curious looks. “If Michael is experiencing forbidden human emotions, I would like nothing more than to ensure he experiences the most powerful human emotion. One I’ve endured for centuries—loss. Not only is he going to lose Sophia to
me
, he is going to lose life on earth as he knows it. He will become an outcast to all who love him.”

“Fallen.” Vaughn put the name to it. “You’re going to make Michael Patronus fall?”

Dante smiled. “And there is your retaliation, Wolf.”

“How?”

“The night we returned from the convenience store, I sent word to the Borderlands. I am requesting an audience with a Grigori. It should not be long before I hear back.”

“Why would you
do
that?” Vaughn cried incredulously. He was sitting at attention for the first time, shock and bewildered. “You invited a Grigori
here
? You gave them our
exact
location? You know they’ll gather a legion and destroy us by morning! What possible reason—”

“To inform them about Michael.”

Wolfgang snorted. “You’re not seriously thinking that you can summon a Grigori and they’ll just drop out of the sky to help you.”

Before Dante could answer, a howl cracked the air and a body slammed into the tea table between them. Cards and wood fluttered up and then down. All three demons peered down at Santiago’s headless body: black skinny jeans and
ROCK ’N ROLL OR DEATH
T-shirt riddled with playing cards. Within moments, his head thuds to the floor, followed by the rope spiraling down like a dead snake.

“Five-second rule!” Santiago’s head yelled. His body blindly scrambled to its knees, snatched the head, and plopped it back onto his neck. Santiago wiggled it into place, as strips of skin crawled up and around his neck. Regeneration had begun.

“Hold still or it’ll leave a scar,” Vaughn advised, mildly amused.

“I know, I know,” Santiago grumbled. “You told me last time.” His eyes rolled left and right to look at them. “So? Somebody order a Grigori?”

“You should stop eavesdropping, kid. In fact, you should stop
dropping
altogether.” Vaughn smirked.

“I didn’t eavesdrop. He’s right there.” Santiago pointed and the demons turned
toward the massive staircase.

*  *  *

Legend said the Grigori existed as tufts of clouds and evaporated in bursts of spontaneous combustion. They wore only shades of gray or white and radiate a temperature of the outer atmosphere.

At first glance, it was a white shadow that looked like a swarm of angry albino bees descending the staircase. Then it elongated and intensified and took a human shape, sharpening around the edges until it solidified into a man. By the time he reached the bottom step, the demons were in the foyer, approaching cautiously. They stopped several yards back as a blast of icy air stirred their hair and clothing. Vaughn and Wolfgang slipped daggers from their ankle sheaths. They bore an aggressive attitude; after all, Grigori had a reputation for being ruthless killers when threatened.

This Grigori manifested to about six-foot-seven with shoulder-length blond hair and two braids in his blond beard. He sported a long, white cloak, silver gauntlets, a silver chain mail over a white tunic, and gray pants. A small, round silver shield rested on his hip, next to a thrusting sword and several daggers. A black Rose Cross sigil with Hebrew symbols was burned into his neck—the mark of the Grigori. If the sigil was not warning enough, his peculiar eyes signified his heritage from the spirit world. Every Grigori had one blue eye and one brown eye, representing the union of Heaven and earth.

The Grigori turned toward the demons with a detached confidence afforded his position. He had no compunction about meeting a pack of demons alone. Gray boots moved soundlessly along the hardwood floor as he surveyed his surroundings.

“Well? Who begged an audience with me?” His breath was icy and emitted a soft vaporous cloud that chilled the room. His eyes fell on the green-eyed demon—the only one unarmed.