Good Intentions 3: Personal Demons (41 page)

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime. All the time.”

“So I did the right thing?”

Rachel bit her lip. “Well…”

The truck came to a stop on the side of the road. Alex saw nothing alarming in view. They weren’t even the only vehicles on the road now. This didn’t feel like another ambush. The driver’s side door opened and shut. He heard Omar’s footsteps as the driver came around to the back of the truck. Rachel pulled her hand away.

Omar’s beard did little to cover up his scowl. He gave Alex a long, hard look as if counting to ten before speaking. “I could have handled that,” he fumed in French. “You could have stayed hidden.”

“But I thought they—” Alex began.

“Do you think life is like your stupid American movies?” Omar snapped. “You slap the bad men down and they just go away? You think the credits roll and everything is happy ever after? I have to go back down that road! In this truck! What if they want revenge? What if they are not alone? What if they have friends in the police? Thank God you didn’t kill them!”

Once again, Alex had no idea what to say. “I don’t…I’m sorry. I thought you were in trouble. I wanted to help.”

“I know how to deal with such men,” Omar grumbled. “This is the risk that I take. I told you to stay hidden.”

“You did. I’m sorry. How can I make this right?”

Omar scowled. “Give me their belongings. I will return them if they approach again. Not the guns. I will have to throw them away before the border.” He tossed an old knapsack to Alex.

“Uh…” Alex glanced to the tarp covering the hidden passengers. “I already gave up the cash,” he confessed.

“It’s fine. I will tell them I recovered what I could. They will understand or they will not. God willing, they may not come back at all.”

“God willing,” Rachel echoed softly.

Alex shoved wallets and jewelry into the bag. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I know.” Omar sighed. “You were trying to help.” He reached up to take the bag from Alex, but held the younger man’s gaze to drive home the point: “When we get to the border, hide. Do not shoot up the place. Don’t help.”

* * *

He followed instructions at the border. Under Rachel’s protection, Alex watched a pair of guards make a quick pass over crates and tarps, all pointedly focused on anything but the crate hiding the other passengers. Then the truck rolled on, joined by much more traffic on the roads than he’d seen on the other side of the border.

Soon, Alex and Rachel sat behind the tailgate watching the countryside go by once more. It started with dark, snowy mountains, but the road gradually tilted lower and lower into a valley. The mountains fell away. The snow didn’t. Buildings, parked cars, hibernating trees, and stretches of rural, open ground all lay under the sort of white blanket that only rarely hit Seattle. Even half this much could bring Alex’s hometown to a halt. Here, life went on as usual.

“I didn’t know it snowed here,” he said. “I should’ve. Maybe I’d read it before and forgot. But it’s not what you associate with this part of the world.”

“No, it’s not what
you
associate,” Rachel teased, leaning her shoulder into his.

In the distance, off one side of the road, Alex saw white tents huddled together in the snow. A few vehicles ringed the tents, which he soon noticed spread out further than he’d first realized. “Those are refugees out there, aren’t they? That’s a camp?”

“Yeah, said Rachel, leaning over to look. “Yeah, they are.”

He watched the camp as they rolled along, wondering how many people lived there and for how long. He wondered how long they’d have to stay. “Why am I not supposed to help?”

“You don’t belong here,” said Rachel. “You can’t explain how you got here. And you don’t know the players or what’s going on or even what actually does help. You don’t have the training or the background.

“If you want to sign up with some aid group once we get home, go for it. You know Lorelei will come with you. I can’t follow, but I won’t stop you. But I imagine you know you’re not cut out for this sort of thing.”

“No,” Alex sighed. “No, I know that. It just sucks to see all this and not do anything about it. Feels selfish. Callous.”

“You’re a good guy, Alex, but aid work isn’t for you. Not on a long-term basis. You do a lot of good, all the time. It’s just not that kind of good. Everyone’s got their talents.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He rubbed his eyes. By the time he looked up again, they were well past the camp. “I always figured this was what
you
do. Run around all over Seattle helping people.”

“I do, kinda,” said Rachel. “In lots of different ways. I’ve got a better sense of how and when to help than you do. It’s part of being what I am. But that’s Seattle, and this is someplace else. It’s like I’ve told you and Lorelei before. If I don’t play by the rules, everything falls apart.”

“You sound sad about it.”

“I am sad. It’s sad as fuck,” she grumbled. “You think I don’t want to go around putting my foot all the way up the ass of every dumbshit moron fucker who thinks making things miserable for others is the way to a better life? You think I wouldn’t run through the hospitals curing everyone as a late Christmas present if I could?” The angel shrugged. “But I can’t. And I can’t tell you why. Not in this life, anyway.”

“Maybe next time?”

“Maybe. Don’t get in any rush, though.”

“Hey, it’s not like I have a lot to complain about,” he noted. “I’ll stop asking.”

Rachel leaned her head on his shoulder. “Y’know, that night when we first met and shit started to sink in about the ritual bond, I thought you’d found yourself a good role. I figured cunt-blocking a succubus was enough for a full-time job for any mortal. Maybe the best job ever, right?

“But I didn’t think far past that. Didn’t see how it would play out. I sure as fuck didn’t realize how much Lorelei would change, or how much she
wanted
that change. And I didn’t think about how you were bound to keep doing the sort of things you do.

“I know what it’s like, Alex. Everything inside screams,
‘Fucking fix this shit. Get out of my way, I’ll do it.’
It’s one of the reasons I love you so much. Maybe the biggest reason. I feel the same way. I want to help, but sometimes I can’t. And I can’t even explain why.”

The road went into a wide turn, eventually giving them another view of the camp in the distance. “It’s one of the reasons I’m so in love with Lorelei, too,” she said.

“Hm?” Alex grunted.

“She forgave me.” Rachel pointed toward the camp. “For all the shitty things like this.”

“She’s angry about this?”

“She’s angry about a lot of things. I can’t say I blame her. Lorelei might seem like she isn’t charitable, or that she’s low on compassion. You and I know better, but even so that side of her doesn’t come out often. The truth is, most of it got burned out of her by a whole lot of anger a long time ago. That didn’t come from nowhere. She wasn’t born that way.”

“I know her story,” said Alex, though Rachel already knew he did. “I can’t really blame her, either.”

“Nobody came to save her. She had to save herself as best she could, and that didn’t turn out too great. But it wasn’t like the angels came for her. Lots of Loreleis out there don’t get saved. And they should.

“Lorelei knows a lot of these things I can’t explain to you. She knows why Heaven doesn’t fix all the wars and murders and poverty and fucked-up misery. She knows why, and she thinks it’s bullshit. But she forgives me.”

“That might be on account of you giving her a chance,” Alex pointed out.

“Yeah, well. I met a guy who set a good example.”

Lights flashed in alternating colors. Heavy bass dug bone-deep with each song. Well-dressed, generally attractive people danced, drank, and talked all around. He heard as much English and French as Arabic. Most people stayed on the floor, but a few ventured onto the tables and the multiple bars. Alex would’ve thought he’d walked into a music video, but for the lack of slow motion. He stayed close to the bouncer leading him through the crowd, trying not to get distracted by the sights and sounds. It wasn’t easy.

The music was as current as anything he heard on the radio back home. That wasn’t such a shock after only an hour or two in Beirut. The city already felt at least as hip as Seattle, if not more. Yet the range of ages in the club surprised him. Most of the patrons were in their twenties and thirties, but the club held a fair number of middle aged types, and maybe a couple pushing the limits on that score, too. This place took the phrase “all ages” to a whole new level.

By contrast, the double-takes and lingering gazes he drew from a few women didn’t surprise him at all. While he still wasn’t exactly used to such attention, he knew Lorelei’s curse meant it would happen. He knew not to overrate it, but also not to doubt. Yet something in the reactions of the patrons as he passed through the club went beyond the usual “right place, right time” of the curse. More than a few young men seemed interested in him, too. It wasn’t until a couple of people spoke up that he heard any explanations.

“Cool clothes!” one young man shouted over the music.

“I like this,” a woman in a miniskirt announced, stroking the scuffed arm of his leather jacket as he passed within reach.

“That’s a great look.”

“Ooh, savage!”

Alex frowned. “Savage?” he muttered. “What the hell?”

“You might start a trend,” said Rachel. Unlike Alex or his guide, she didn’t have to navigate the crowd. She could literally move through people. Only Alex could see and hear her. “They think you’re making a fashion statement.”

The young man glanced down at his frayed and torn jeans, shirt, and jacket, and then at the club-goers again. These people dressed to impress. Alex looked like he’d crawled out of a riot. “Seriously?”

“Hey, every fad starts somewhere. Oh don’t give me that shit!” she snapped in another direction. “Yes, the rumors are true. I talk to him. I fuck him, too. A lot. We even cuddle. You wanna come over and watch sometime?”

Alex blinked. “Woah, what’s going on?”

“Snotty-ass bitches giving me stinkeye and talking shit, is what,” Rachel grumbled. “Half the guardians in this club aren’t even trying to hide their Judgey McJudgerson faces. Did I ever tell you I’m not all that popular with a lot of my peers?”

“Yeah, you did,” said Alex. “I thought that got better.”

“It got better in Seattle and with angels who get to know me. The ones who get all their news third-hand think I’m gonna upend the whole struggle of good and evil. Like this dude over here behind the bar. Watching me like I’m gonna rob the place ‘cause he knows me so well,” Rachel said sourly.

“They’re all giving you dirty looks?”

“No. Only some. And some of ‘em are just worried. Can’t blame ‘em for that. It’s not like we belong here.”

“How many angels are here?” Alex wondered.

“Eh. Guardians come and go. Probably twenty or so, mostly looking after their people.”

“Then what is there to worry about? I saw you fight when you were my guardian. What could be a problem for twenty guardian angels?”

“Oh, don’t jinx us, lover,” Rachel huffed. “If shit hits the fan, most or all of these guys are gonna get their mortal charges to bug the fuck out and go right with ‘em.”

“Wow, really? Even if it’s supernatural trouble?”

“Yeah. It’s all about the details. Sometimes they intervene, sometimes they don’t. Like I said before, shit’s complicated. It’s a split between the proactive types and the reactive types, and most guardians are reactive. They see themselves as bodyguards, not cops. When trouble comes up, most of ‘em focus on protecting their charges. Doubly so if it’s supernatural.

“Seattle is different ‘cause I’m in charge. There are others in dominion who take a stronger stance like I do, but most don’t. And it’s a constant argument. Been running longer than I care to remember.”

“That’s too bad,” said Alex.

“Say what?” asked another lithe young woman, turning with her drink held high as if she meant to hug him.

“Sorry,” Alex grunted. “Just looking for someone.”

“Over there, to your left,” said Rachel. She pointed to the far corner of the nightclub, past the dance floor and its throng of celebrants.

A few steps rose to a gleaming black door where a burly man in a dark shirt and slacks stood guard. The man seemed to already have Alex and the other bouncer in his sights. He gave a small nod as their eyes met across the club floor, or at least Alex thought he saw one. He couldn’t be sure at this distance and under these lights.

As soon as he reached the guard, his guide turned back and gave an expectant nod. Alex looked to the door guard and repeated the words that got him into the club despite his thrashed and out-of-place clothes: “I’m here to see Zafirah, please.”

The guard gestured for Alex to lift his arms for a second pat-down. Alex complied. Like the bouncers at the front entrance, the guy touched both the .45 in its shoulder holster and the gladius in its sheath along Alex’s back, but didn’t react at all. The enchantments concealing them both still held. The guard poked his head through the door to the VIP lounge for a quick word. Then he gestured for Alex to step inside.

Curtains along the walls caught the red hues of the overhead lights. The music wasn’t as loud in here, allowing for easier conversation among the handful of men and women lounging around a couple of glass tables. Alex saw candles, bowls of fruit, and plenty of drinks. He also saw faces watching as he entered, mostly matching the spread of ages he saw in the club. Alex took in those faces to assess them for welcome or danger—and then he did a double-take at the woman reclining on a loveseat in the center of the room.

Her silver dress showed off plenty of her smooth, dark brown skin and slender figure. The edges of her jet black hair caught the light for an added otherworldly effect. She watched Alex with brief curiosity and then sudden understanding. It happened so fast he almost didn’t notice. By the time he was into his double-take of her features, the woman had one hand up to keep him from speaking—and then reached with that hand to touch the older man sitting near her as if she never meant the gesture for Alex at all.

The two exchanged quiet words in Arabic. Her companion then called everyone else’s attention with a single sentence, drawing some out of side conversations and others from their curious looks at Alex. The entire crowd picked up their drinks, purses, or other belongings and left, slipping past Alex through the door without complaint. Even the man behind the lounge’s small bar took off. Only the black woman remained.

“
‘Of all the gin joints in all the world,’
” she quoted once the last guest departed and the door fell shut. She spoke with something closer to the Queen’s English than the sort of accents Alex had heard in the city. “I’d hoped to meet you someday, but I didn’t expect you to come to me.”

“You know who I am?” he asked.

She flashed him an amused, dazzling smile. “So humble! I
like
that. Yes, my dear. I know who you are. You bear the blood of immortals on your hands. Such stains do not wash off. I have little interest in the affairs of the Pit, but word gets around. I also have some small history with your companion, too. And I see she doesn’t hide herself from your eyes. Very interesting. Hello, Rachel. Introduce us?”

Alex hadn’t realized Rachel was visible again until the other woman greeted her, but now he saw his lover next to him without her wings or halo. She folded her arms over her chest. “Alex, this is Zafirah. Z, Alex.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said.

“That’s it?” Zafirah asked. “You short-change us both.”

Alex blinked. “Um…?”

“You’ve slain both Baal and Harrow. Surely you need a grander introduction than this.”

“Hey, I did Harrow,” Rachel corrected.

“Ah. I should have known the rumors were incomplete. Welcome. Please sit down.” She gestured to the couch facing her loveseat. “You look as if you have come a long way. A long, unpleasant way.”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Alex grunted. He sat next to Rachel, hoping she might take the lead here.

“We need your help,” said Rachel.

“Excellent. Then I need not worry you are here to punish me for another transgression.”

“Why? Should I be?” asked Rachel.

“Another?” asked Alex.

Zafirah tilted her head curiously. “Rachel, have you brought him to me without telling him about us?”

“I wanted to let bygones be bygones and all that shit,” said Rachel. “And maybe I figured he doesn’t need to hear the whole damn thing.”

“What? But it’s such a good story. Alex, has she told you nothing about me?”

He looked to Rachel for a cue, but she only rolled her eyes. “Not really,” he answered. “She said you’d be able to help us get home fast. To America. That’s all.”

“Oh, Rachel, you’re not going with that silly nonsense of what mortals aren’t meant to know, are you?” Zafirah frowned. “The man has been to Hell and back. Literally. You walk beside him openly. You can’t even give him the highlights?”

“Fuck me running, Zafirah, you think I’m proud of that shit?”

The other woman smiled broadly. “Perhaps you aren’t, but I am.”

“You got caught.”

“Of course I did! I was always going to get caught.”

“Okay, what?” Alex turned to Rachel with an exasperated frown. “Obviously I trust you, but I’d kinda like to know what’s going on. Or who this is.”

“Fine,” Rachel grumbled. She looked to Zafirah. “Stick to the headlines.”

“You don’t want to tell him yourself?” Zafirah laughed.

“And steal your thunder?” Rachel headed straight for the bar. “Not even two minutes and I need a fuckin’ drink already.”

“Allow me to begin again,” said the hostess, focusing her full attention on Alex. “I am Zafirah, daughter of fire, mistress of the desert wind, pathfinder of the forbidden, acquirer and keeper of the lost, teller of—”

“She’s a jinn who’s good at stealing shit,” grumbled the angel. She pulled the cork from a bottle of wine.

“Wasn’t Jin the guy back in Seattle?” Alex blinked.

“No, not that dude. A jinn is a kind of spirit,” said Rachel before Zafirah could speak. “The shit about fire? That’s the lead-in.”

“Do you mind?” asked Zafirah. She turned from Rachel to settle back into the loveseat again. “Yes, the jinn are the spirits of flame made flesh. We are neither divine, nor demonic, nor mortal. We are in between, and we have been here at least as long as you. Among the jinn, I am Zafirah, the Thief of Heaven.”

“Aw, seriously? Are you still humping that one claim to fame?” complained Rachel.

“I shall whenever you’re in the room, darling.”

Alex blinked. “You mean you stole from…?”

“Yes,” Zafirah answered, her eyes and her smile glittering with pride.

“What did you steal?”

“A book.”

“She got her ass caught, too,” Rachel added before she upended the wine bottle into her mouth.

Zafirah gestured back toward the angel. “Meet the librarian.”

Rachel held up her middle finger and kept gulping.

“Wow,” said Alex.

“Thank you,” said Zafirah. “That is the proper response.” Behind her, Rachel made a jerk-off motion. Zafirah didn’t even need to look. “In Rachel’s defense, I should have been caught long before I made it into the library. Nor was she the only librarian.”

“Of Heaven,” Alex added, just to be sure.

“Yes.” Zafirah smiled. “Clearly you see the grandeur of the deed.”

“You didn’t even get away with it!” exclaimed Rachel. “I found your ass!”

“On Earth, yes. As I knew someone would.”

“Then what was the point? Why did you even do it?”

“For the story, dear,” Zafirah laughed. “And I got what I wanted out of the book. You know that, too. Yet in the end, the true value of the deed is the story. Now, tell me yours,” she said, still facing Alex. “Why have you come to me?”

“We need help getting back to America,” Alex explained. “Fast. I’m only here because some jackass Practitioner sent me here with a spell. We need to get home to our friends. They may be in trouble.”

“Practitioners, you say? Is this a feud? Something a little less dramatic than fighting a prince of the Pit?”

“Oh, there’s that, too,” said Rachel. She dropped the empty wine bottle in a waste bin behind the bar and returned to the couch. “Azazel is hip-deep in this shit. And fuckboy Sammael.”

Zafirah’s eyebrows rose. “Azazel
and
Sammael?”

“Others, too,” Alex put in. He wondered if he’d found Zafirah’s weak spot. She all but wore it on her sleeve, after all. “We’ve got Practitioners going to war and summoning demons. Just yesterday, I fought a bunch of ghuls and a flaming giant guy named Yusuf somewhere in Iraq. Hell, I even think the US military might be involved. Black ops stuff.” He paused for effect. “This shit is pretty epic. Can you help us?”