Last Breath (31 page)

She nodded, typing into her phone. “I still like the vigilante story, even if I can’t say it’s supernatural. Dead is dead, and the angel/vigilante is clearly targeting the occult gang members.”

I pointed to Janice’s phone. “Gonna make the morning paper, or are you too late for that?”

The reporter scowled. “Too late. I can get it in the online edition though.”

I was suddenly struck with an idea. I’d been wanting to keep this under wraps. To not scare off the mages being interviewed at the police station or the murderers who remained alive. Perhaps I was going about this the wrong way.

“Go ahead with the vigilante thing. Hint that the only way these occult gang members are going to stay alive is if they turn themselves in to the police and plead guilty. Maybe say that you have reason to believe the vigilante won’t stop killing unless he’s convinced the murderers will serve time.”

Janice nodded. “Flush them out. Do you think it will work? Will they be scared enough of this angel?”

I looked over once again at the dead body. “Maybe we need a few pictures and some gory details.”

The reporter wrinkled her pointed nose. “Ugh. My editor hates dead body pics, but I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got one from last night with all the dead guys lined up in your parking space. Maybe a collage with this one and the one in the park. The public loves a good vigilante story, let’s see if I can run it.”

“Thanks.” I left Janice and the police to their work and headed back upstairs to do what I needed to do.

The unexpected appearance of a man in skinny jeans eyeing the ceramic figures on my bookshelf about gave me a heart attack. Was this how angels worked? I thought I’d need to pray, maybe get out my Bible or something.

“So I just think of you and you show up?” I asked him after giving my blood pressure a few seconds to return to normal.

“No. I figured you’d want to talk with me after seeing my gift downstairs.” The angel turned to me, a smirk on his face.

“You’re about to become a vigilante, a public hero. The threat of your very violent and life-ending sort of justice will hopefully bring all the other killers to the police station to plead guilty to murder.” I crossed my arms and lifted an eyebrow. “Per our conversation earlier, that should satisfy you. No need for ripping the souls out of any more mages, right?”

The smirk turned even more sly. I was beginning to think angels out of heaven quickly lost their gloss, because this guy’s morals didn’t seem to be on-par with mine at this time.

“See what a little justice can do? Humans don’t seem bothered by the threat of jail, but show them that dead murderer downstairs and they’ll walk a righteous path.”

“No more separating souls from bodies, right?” I repeated, wanting something to assure me Araziel was done with this “justice.”

“I will remain here until the mages all die of natural causes, just to ensure they repent and that their punishment is sufficient. If not, well I’ll need to step in once more.”

I didn’t like the idea of Araziel hanging around for another sixty years or so, but this was better than nothing. “You said you would hold off killing. What changed your mind? There’s a dead guy in my parking space and per our conversation I thought you were going to stand down and let the humans handle this.”

“I was, but he was meeting with another mage, the one with the soul trap, to discuss yet another murder ritual. Your humans are too slow. How many people must die before you manage to bring these people to justice?”

He met with the Stranger? Why, oh why, couldn’t Araziel have killed
him
instead? “They’ve planned another sacrifice? When? I need to let the police know.”

Araziel turned his back to me and picked up one of the figures from my bookshelf—the little resin fox. “No idea. If you kill the remaining four then there will be no need to involve the police. Everyone will be safe.”

I was getting sick of this angel and his mantra of kill-kill-kill. “Honestly I’m surprised there aren’t five dead in my parking spot.”

“I was tempted, believe me. I remembered my promise to you and decided to deliver justice to only this one, and leave the others for you to punish.”

I scrambled for a piece of paper. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find them, would you?”

The angel raised his eyebrows. “Am I to do all the work for you? I’ll give you another twenty-four hours, Knight. After that,
I
will take care of the problem.”

I nodded. “And the vampires—”

His eyes narrowed. “You are a Templar Knight, and yet you have a demon mark and you have on multiple occasions exchanged information with Satan’s servants. You keep the company of lawless mages and have filled your shelves with these.”

He waved the resin fox at me and I blinked in surprise. Did he think they were false idols? The little figurines were decorative items—or were they? Gifts from my great grandmother often carried charms and curses.

Araziel put the fox back on the bookshelf. “I fear you are walking the path to hell already.”

I thought back to the mark on my side. How far would I go to save my Pilgrims on the Path?

“Humans have free will, Araziel,” I said as deferentially as possible. “It’s not your place to judge their choices or take their lives. Immortality is sometimes the worst curse of all.”

He tilted his head as he stared at me. “But the humans these vampires kill? These creatures prey upon your brothers and sisters.”

He was right, and it did bother me. “Are they not free to make those choices, whether it be to spend a few months as a blood slave to a vampire, or to sink into the Lethe-embrace of heroin, or to end a cycle of depression through suicide?”

A faint smile flickered across the angel’s face. “I may revisit this argument with you at a later time, but for now I will leave Baltimore in your hands.”

That was a lot of pressure for one young Templar, especially one who had run away from the responsibility of her Oath. It seemed that some responsibilities could never be escaped. And I was oddly thrilled at that idea. Not a Knight, but the Templar of Baltimore. I’d be a Batman with boobs and a sword who worked with a detective, a vampire, a mage, and a reporter instead of the Commissioner. A paladin without the crazy suicidal death wish morality.

“Understood.”

Araziel set the resin fox back on the shelf and bowed deeply, giving me a military-style salute as he rose.

And then he was gone.

I had three mages and the Stranger to find. I had some reassurances with strings attached to give to Dario. And I had a demon mark to get rid of. All after I devoured a few of the cannoli in my fridge and collapsed into a sugar-fueled sleep. Hopefully things would be slow tomorrow at the coffee shop and I could squeeze in some internet research as I worked.

I
’D HAD THE
best sleep in days, and was happily brewing up espresso at work, fueled by a breakfast of three cannoli. One more hour and I could head home to warm up leftovers and settle down to research.

Every person in the coffee shop this morning was talking about the vigilante, the “angel of justice.” I heard there were rumors of a T-shirt lauding him and how he was going to save Baltimore and rid the city of all the murderers, thugs, and dealers. Oh, and corrupt politicians. Aside from the politics, it all sounded a lot like Araziel’s party line. I doubted the citizens of Baltimore would want his type of justice or his hard, inflexible line concerning who was good and who was evil.

Although I couldn’t imagine any of the people I served caffeinated beverages to today would consider the vampires good. Was I the only one who saw a glimmer of virtue in them?

I might not be the vigilante that Baltimore wanted, but unleashing Araziel on them would be far worse. We had less than twenty-four hours before that happened. Thankfully, Tremelay said after the morning paper with its graphic pictures, the seven mages in custody had becoming amazingly cooperative. I’d left a text message for Dario, but was going to meet him at Sesarios as planned tonight. We’d need to consider our course of action on how to keep the
Balaj
off Araziel’s radar.

And best of all? It was Wednesday and tonight was the Anderon game at Zac’s. Tonight I’d get to pretend to be a normal human pretending to be a half-dragon warrior. I couldn’t wait.

Things were looking good, and as I glanced down to see Raven calling me, I was filled with hope that she’d found something out to help me get rid of this demon mark.

“Hey, what’s up?” I wasn’t really supposed to be taking calls at work, but given the amount of texting Anna did with her dozens of boyfriends, I figured one quick call wouldn’t get me fired.

“I think we can get the demon mark removed,” Raven announced.

Did I mention how awesome my day was? How everything was finally falling into place for me. Heck, I’d even had cannoli for
breakfast
. How more right could things be?

“I owe you big time,” I told her. “I’ve got to meet Dario an hour after sunset, and I have a game tonight with some friends. How about tomorrow? Or maybe Friday night?”

“Sure, but…” The happy joy bubbling through me froze at Raven’s nervous tone. What was wrong? “I’m not sure how easily I can get the ritual. It might be next week. Maybe more. Don’t worry, I’ll make it happen, I just might need to drop off the radar for a day or two.”

I had a bad feeling about this. Really bad. “What do you mean ‘drop off the radar’? Raven, you’ve got to be more specific than that.”

I could practically hear her squirm through the phone. Brian motioned me over to the expresso machine, plopping a cup down next to the beans with unwarranted emphasis. I glared at him, and motioned to the phone, cradling it against my ear as I read the order on the cup.

“The word is to stay out of Baltimore, mind our own business. Basically if we have a choice between flying out of BWI or Dulles, we’re advised to use Dulles.”

The loud grinding of beans drowned out the rest of Raven’s conversation.

“What?” I yelled, not caring that half the customers were watching me with interest. “Something about concave?”

“I was talking with someone who has a contact at the Conclave. Dark Iron has been accused of theft of a magical object.”

Magical object? One valuable enough to involve the Conclave? Yikes.

“Guess what he’s accused of stealing? Guess?”

“Wait. Hold on just a sec.” I finished the latte and handed it to the customer, shooting her a quick smile before turning my attention back to Raven. “What?”

“A soul trap?”

“A soul trap? You’re joking.”

I heard her grunt in confirmation. “Yeah, from a guy in Argentina three weeks ago. Dude is seriously pissed. I’m surprised he went through the Conclave and didn’t just curse Dark Iron into the ninth circle of hell. And guess who was supposed to testify against him, all hush-hush like? The three mages who were killed in Dupont Circle.”

Dark Iron was the Stranger. And if he was ruthless enough to kill three witnesses from his own group, to watch while Fiore Noir murdered people and used their souls, to have them use Bliss, then he was capable of anything. Had Bliss even known? Had she innocently gone to a meeting with the leader of her magical group, only to wind up on the sacrificial table?

“Raven, get out of DC. Go to my place in Middleburg. I’ll call Mom and let her know you’re coming. You’ll be safe there.” She would be. I don’t care how powerful Dark Iron was, nobody got past Mom. Nobody.

“I will tomorrow. I’ve got something I need to do first.”

I didn’t like the tight waver in her voice. “Get out. It’s not important.”

“You want that demon mark off or not? That was the other part of my call to my friend this morning. Seems Dark Iron got himself marked once and has a ritual to remove it.”

“No,” I practically yelled. By now the whole coffee shop was staring at me. “We’ll get it after he’s in jail, or from someone else. I’m sure he isn’t the only one who’s removed a demon mark before. Get out of there.”

“He’s got no idea that I know. We’re on reasonably good terms. Heck, Reynard is one of his closest friends. I’ll tell him it’s preventative, for Blaze, one of the noob’s I’m mentoring.”

“No.” I didn’t know what else to say. Panic was starting to fill my chest and steal my breath.

“I’ll call you late tonight, around midnight, when I’m on my way to your parents’ house. I got this, Kite. I got it.”

She hung up and I stared at the phone as it blurred with the tears spilling out of my eyes. I didn’t know Dark Iron’s name. He was one of the few Haul Du members I’d been unable to track down in the real world. Raven was smart, sneaky, a good mage. She was tough and capable. And I was terrified for her. Dark Iron was a killer. And my soul was not worth Raven’s life.

S
EAN SENT ME
home early since I was such a mess. I really had the best job. I was only a part-time employee but was constantly sleep-deprived, coming in late, leaving early, or barely able to function because I was injured. I had no idea why they put up with me, but Sean and Anna seemed very concerned that I get some rest and help my “troubled” friend.

Once home the first thing I did was call Mom and explain the situation. She put me on speaker phone so Dad could hear.

“Of course we’ll shelter your friend. She’s welcome here as long as she needs,” Mom told me, her voice warm and sympathetic. They’d take in a total stranger, defend her if necessary from evil mages. It made me feel a connection with my family that had been missing for quite a while. Maybe we were all still Templars deep down after all.

“You need to come, too,” Mom added. “The police have most of the mages in custody. They’ll get the rest in the next day or so. Come down here until it all blows over.”

Oh sheesh. “Would
you
run home, Mom? They’ll never catch Dark Iron. Heck, I’m not even sure I can catch Dark Iron, but I can’t walk away and let the man responsible for at least five deaths walk free.”

I heard her sigh. “Solaria, you be careful. I know you like to be an honorable Templar and all that, but you need to swing first and ask questions later, got it?”