Sinners & Sorcerers: Four Urban Fantasy Thrillers (64 page)

For an hour, he tracked her through the forest, until he reached a thin stream. A curtain of vines seemed to hide a burrow there, and Beelzebub saw specks of blood coat the leaves between angel footprints. He smiled slightly.
Brave the girl might be, but not the best woodswoman.
Not wanting to startle her, he found a mossy boulder and sat down, making a point of ignoring the burrow. The breeze rustled the trees, and the birds still chirped. No sound came from the burrow.

Beelzebub relaxed and began to whistle, a tune he would sing with Michael, Lucifer, and the others in the old days. They would wander around these hills sometimes, he remembered, thousands of years ago, long before the rebellion. Raphael, now the great healer, had always known where to find good wine, and Gabriel had always known which villages held the prettiest, most willing girls. It was on these hills, Beelzebub remembered, that he knew his first human girl. He could no longer remember her name, but she was slim and short, with long brown hair, mocking eyes, and clothes that fell off whenever he was around. It wasn’t far from here.
But it was such a different time.

Beelzebub remembered the first time he touched the human girl, kissed her, not really knowing what he was doing, but liking it.
Oh, man, God was so pissed,
Beelzebub remembered. He and his fellow angels had made more than a few Nephilim, monstrous spawn born half angel, half human, giants who terrorized the hillsides.
But God, Heaven was boring,
Beelzebub thought. Who wanted harps and prayer, when you could go down to Earth and know saucy little brunettes with a wicked side that could put demons to shame? Gabriel, Michael, Raphael... those three had grown up, of course, straightened out, took on high positions in Heaven. But he and Lucifer, the two scoundrels, the wildest members of their little gang, well, they would not bow the knee to God. Beelzebub laughed softly. Not even as their Nephilim spawn wandered around the hills, destroying villages, would they straighten out. No. He and Lucifer just kept drinking, knocking up human girls, and infuriating the powers that be.

Sitting on this mossy boulder, Beelzebub lowered his head. He missed Lucifer sometimes, but he kept telling himself that the old Lucifer, his best friend, the angel who rebelled against God with him, was very different from the Lucifer who became ruler of Hell. The Lucifer who refused to acknowledge Laila. The Lucifer who, when he learned of Beelzebub’s love for Laila, had thrown a fit and tossed his wine horn at Beelzebub.

Lucifer changed.
Beelzebub closed his eyes.
I had to kill him. I had no choice. He might have killed Laila otherwise, and maybe me too. The tempers he would have in his later years....
Beelzebub sighed. Why did things have to change? Michael, his older brother, was his enemy now. Lucifer was dead. Gabriel, once their partner in crime, now governed Heaven while Raphael wandered around healing people and preaching.
It seems like only I stayed the same,
Beelzebub thought. Then again, he could not believe that thought; he too had changed, had grown from a wild youth to becomes a prince of Hell, then finally a great king. If you lived long enough, he thought, everything changed. That life evolved, ever changing, could be the greatest curse for an immortal.

Is that why you like Bat El so much?
he asked himself.
Does the little thing alleviate the loneliness, the unbearable ancient memories?

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” he spoke to the burrow. Bat El did not respond, and Beelzebub took a deep breath. “Why don’t you come out and sit beside me? We can enjoy the fresh air together.”

For a long time, the burrow was silent, so long that Beelzebub worried that Bat El wasn’t in there after all, or maybe she had crawled in to die. Finally, however, her voice broke the silence.

“It’s only a matter of time, Beelzebub. With Laila’s help, your brother is going to win this war, and he will kill you.”

“Oh, I seriously doubt both those things, Bat El. Now please, come out of there. You’re hurt and you must be thirsty and hungry. Don’t make me come in there to get you.”

“I’m not going back to that fort,” she said from inside the burrow, suddenly sounding scared and younger than ever.

He nodded. “Deal. You come out, I won’t force you to come back with me.”

“You’ll let me go?”

“At some point, yes, of course. First I’ll see how the story with Laila unfolds, and once things come to light, of course I’ll let you go. I won’t keep you a prisoner forever. For now, we’ll stay here in the forest. No demons. No locked doors. Just you and me, until you are healed, and until we figure out what to do with that sister of yours.”

For a long moment the burrow was silent and still. Finally Bat El crept out. Dried leaves filled her hair, mud and blood caked her face and limbs, and thorns had torn her clothes. She was pale, and her halo gave but soft light.

“I may be the devil,” he said to her, “but you, my dear, look like hell.”

“Charming as always,” she said.

“Let me take a look at you.” He stepped toward her and placed his hands on her limbs, examining her cuts and bruises.

“Let go of me,” she said and tried to push him aside, but he refused to let go.

“I’m just seeing how badly you’re hurt, don’t get all excited.” The cuts covered her, some from demon claws, most from thorns. “You’re going to be fine, but I want to take you to find some food and bandages.”

She shook her head, dry leaves falling from her hair. “No deal. You promised we’d stay here. God’s grace and light will heal me soon, and as for food, I’m not hungry.”

Her knees wobbled, and she sat down by the stream on fallen leaves, boulders and cyclamens surrounding her. Beelzebub sat beside her, close enough so that she could lean against him. For a moment they sat in silence, and then Beelzebub put his arm around her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Strange place, this Earth, isn’t it?” he said softly.

She nodded and closed her eyes. “I miss Heaven.”

“Do you? Really? I hated Heaven when I was younger. I always snuck away to come down to Earth and raise some hell.”

She smiled only slightly, a half smile soon gone. “Well, you’ve always been a hell-raiser. I’m a good angel girl. I like Heaven. Come on, Beelzebub. Could it have been that bad? Dressing up in white on Saturdays, having dinner around the table with the other angels, sipping wine, playing the harp, singing.... Even you couldn’t find that too bad.”

“It was dreadful,” he said. “Heaven’s wine is too sweet, and I’ll take a rowdy bar song over harps any day.” He smiled. “You should visit Hell sometime. If you like parties, you’ll
love
Hell.”

She picked dried leaves off her clothes, as if she could somehow make herself stately and neat again. “Oh, I heard all about Hell. Fire, demons, torture, pain. No thanks.”

“Well, there is that part,” Beelzebub confessed. “But there’s also good, loud music, lots of drinking and singing, debauchery and craziness. No rules. No inhibitions. You’d like it.”

“I seriously doubt that. Besides, the hellfire would burn this poor angel to a crisp. My kind is forbidden there.”

Beelzebub feigned a sad sigh. “You and I, like the Capulets and the Montagues. A tragedy, really.”

“Only Romeo and Juliet loved each other,” she said, “and while you are clearly madly in love with me, I couldn’t care less about you.”

He blew her a kiss. “I always do like it when a girl plays hard to get.”

She was about to respond, when he tensed and hushed her with a finger to her lips. She tried to protest, and he shushed her. Silent, he looked around, listening. There. He heard it again, could smell it. A slow smile crept across his lips, and he leapt up and crashed through the bushes.

“Stay here,” he called to Bat El and leapt forward. He saw it there, a few paces ahead, rubbing against a tree: a young boar, two or three years old, nice and plump. When it saw Beelzebub, it tried to run, but if Beelzebub could chase Gabriel’s daughter across the skies, a boar stood little chance. He caught the squealing creature and silenced it with a slice of his claws across its neck.

“I’m a vegetarian,” Bat El said, watching as he carried the boar back.

“Say that after you smell my roast boar. You’ll find it quite irresistible. And if you still don’t like it, well, there would be plenty of vegetarian meals available back in my demon fort.”

As he started to collect firewood, Bat El sighed. “You really do think highly of yourself. How must it be for you, to love Beelzebub so much?”

“Someday maybe you’ll know,” he replied and piled up fallen branches. He sent sparks from his fingertips, and soon a bonfire was crackling.

They had no knife, so Beelzebub carved the boar with his claws as Bat El looked away. They had no pot nor pan, so Beelzebub held the meat over the fire in his hands, letting the flames caress him as they cooked the meat. He would have suggested flying for supplies, but Bat El still seemed so unnerved, he didn’t want to move her yet.

When the meat was ready, they ate in silence, watching the fire, and drank from the stream. Grease dripped down Bat El’s chin, and she hardly seemed to notice, the flames reflecting in her blue eyes.
Laila once lived in these forests,
Beelzebub remembered,
running wild among the trees.
When he had found her here ten years ago, she had been like an animal, hair knotty and tangled, fangs always bared, twig-thin and feral.

“Nothing like good bacon for breakfast,” he finally said, licking his lips.

Bat El washed her hands in the stream. “I can’t believe I ate that. Poor boar.”

“Poor Beelzebub,” he countered. “I miss my fort already.”

“It’s not your fort. It belongs to Heaven.”

“It belongs to the humans, actually, or did until we came to this planet.”

Bat El leaned back and stared at the crackling flames. Dry leaves still filled her hair. “Crusaders built that fort, hence it has always belonged to Heaven.”

“My darling, if you were truly so pure and godly, you’d wish to disassociate yourself from the Crusaders as much as possible. If anything, the bastards worked for
us
.”

Bat El tossed a twig into the fire. She watched it burn. “You know, you’d be a lot sweeter if sometimes you’d just shut up. Everything’s a big joke with you, isn’t it?”

He looked at her over the flames. “Not everything.”

She lowered her eyes, and he knew she was remembering their kiss, his hands on her, their lips and bodies pressed together. He knew
he
was thinking about it, and his blood suddenly felt hotter than hellfire.

Bat El fell onto her back in the fallen leaves. She pulled a couple acorns from under her, tossed them aside, and looked up at the canopy. “God, I wish I could stay here forever,” she said. “Away from this war, from fighting, from duty....” She seemed to realize what she had said, her face turned pink, and she blew out her breath. “But of course that’s impossible. We have responsibilities. We are leaders, both of us.”

He lay down beside her, watching the rustling leaves above, the sunrays that broke through the clouds. He let his hand reach out and touch the tip of her hair, twirling it. “We can stay for a while, at least,” he said. “I know there’s a war going on, I know we both have roles to play, I know your sister is out there wreaking havoc. But hey, you and I, we deserve a little rest. Call it a weekend getaway.”

“It’s Tuesday,” she whispered, turning her head toward him, his fingers in her hair. She looked at him, then lowered her eyes, trembling. Her whisper was so soft, he barely heard. “I hate that you do this to me. And I hate you period. I really do want to escape you. I could probably run now, you know.”

“I know,” he uttered silently and was about to kiss her when, with a gasp, she pointed up. Beelzebub looked and raised an eyebrow.

Streaks of fire burned in the sky, and the cries of battle echoed. A great duel burned above, and Beelzebub rose to his feet. Those flames and cries could mean only one thing.

Either Zarel or Laila would soon die.

+ + +

In the clouds, Laila and Zarel crashed into each other, sending out a shock-ring, bursting with flame. Pain filled Laila like pain had never filled her. She felt like every bone in her body shattered, and her teeth rattled in her jaw. She screamed, slashed her claws, and felt Zarel’s teeth sink into her shoulder.

“You will die now, angel,” Zarel hissed, Laila’s blood on her fangs.

Laila gritted her teeth.
Not yet. I’m still alive.
She curbed the anger and pain that blinded her.
Concentrate.
She punched hard, and her knuckles bled against Zarel’s scales. Before she could even cry in pain, Zarel punched her in the stomach, knocking all air and sound out of her.

Laila doubled up, tears in her eyes.
She’s too strong. Too strong for me to face alone.
She pulled back just in time, avoiding Zarel’s claws, and pushed down the pain, ignoring it.
I have to kill her. I have to, and damn my promise to Angor. If I can’t take Hell, life is over for me; I’m going to kill this one or die trying.

When Zarel charged toward her, wings flapping, Laila fired her Uzi. The bullets slammed into Zarel’s face, into her eyes, her mouth, her forehead. The Demon Queen shrieked.
I hurt her. She can be hurt.

Zarel’s claws slashed, and Laila blocked the blow with her arm, more pain filling her. That blow nearly broke her arm. She wanted to fire her gun again, but had no time to reload. Zarel kept scratching and biting, and it was all Laila could do to avoid those fangs and claws.

She reached for a grenade, letting down her guard for an instant. Zarel’s claws found her arm, drawing blood, but Laila had set off the grenade. She pulled her wings close and dived down, leaving the grenade in the sky to fall above her. Zarel dived down in pursuit, and the grenade burst above the Demon Queen. The shrapnel slammed into Zarel, whose body shielded Laila from the blast.