Part I Part 67 (2/2)
Michael looked at me for a moment. Then he said, ”Harry, you know that I don't think it's my place to judge another person.”
”I hear a 'but' coming.”
He nodded. ”But how did you get mixed up with the likes of that faerie? She's bad, Harry. Some of them are merely alien, but that one is ... malevolent. She enjoys causing pain.”
”Yeah,” I said. ”I didn't exactly pick her.”
”Who did?”
I shrugged. ”My mother, I think. She was the one with power. My father wasn't a wizard. Wasn't into their world.”
”I don't understand why she would do that to her child.”
Something inside me broke with a little snapping sensation, and I felt tears at my eyes. I scowled. They were a child's tears, to go with a child's old pain. ”I don't know,” I said. ”I know that she was mixed up with some bad people. Bad beings. Whatever. Maybe Lea was one of her allies.”
”Lea. It's short for Leanandsidhe, isn't it?”
”Yeah. I don't know her real name. She takes blood from mortals and gives them inspiration in return. Artists and poets and things. That's how she ama.s.sed most of her power.”
Michael nodded. ”I've heard of her. This bargain you have with her. What is it?”
I shook my head. ”It isn't important.”
Something s.h.i.+fted in Michael, became harder, more resolute. ”It is important to me, Harry. Tell me.”
I stared at the babies for a minute, before I said, ”I was a kid. Things fell out with my old teacher, Justin. He sent a demon to kill me, and I went on the run. I made a bargain with Lea. Enough power to defeat Justin in exchange for my service to her. My loyalty.”
”And you broke faith with her.”
”More or less.” I shook my head. ”She's never pushed it before now, and I've been careful to stay out of her way. She doesn't usually get this involved with mortal business.”
Michael moved his hand to Amoracchius's Amoracchius's empty scabbard. ”She did take the sword though.” empty scabbard. ”She did take the sword though.”
I winced. ”Yeah. I guess that was my fault. If I hadn't have tried to use it to weasel out of the deal ...”
”You couldn't have known,” Michael said.
”I should have,” I said. ”It isn't as though it as a tough one to figure out.”
Michael shrugged, though his expression was less casual than the gesture. ”What's done is done. But I don't know how much help to you I can be without the sword.”
”We'll get it back,” I said. ”Leah can't help herself. She makes deals. We'll figure out a way to get it back from her.”
”But will we do it in time,” Michael said. He shook his head, grim. ”The sword won't stay in her hands forever. The Lord won't allow that. But it may be that my time to wield it has pa.s.sed.”
”What are you talking about?” I asked.
”Perhaps it was a sign. Perhaps that I am no longer worthy to serve Him in this way. Or that the burden of it has pa.s.sed on to someone else.” He grimaced, staring at the gla.s.s, the infants. ”My family, Harry. Perhaps it's time they had a full-time father.”
Oh, great. All I needed, now, was a crisis of faith and bad case of career doubt from the Fist of G.o.d. I needed Michael. I needed someone to watch my back, someone who was used to dealing with the supernatural. Sword or no sword, he had a steady head, and his faith had a subtle power of its own. He could be the difference between me getting killed and defeating whoever was out there.
Besides, he had wheels.
”Let's get going. Time's a-wasting.”
He frowned. ”I can't. I'm needed here.”
”Michael, look. Is someone with your kids at home?”
”Yes. I called Charity's sister last night. She went over. Father Forthill was going to get some sleep, and then stay on.”
”Is there anything more you can do for Charity here?”
He shook his head. ”Only pray. She's resting, now. And her mother is on the way here.”
”Okay, then. We've got work to do.”
”You expect me to leave them again?”
”No, not leave them. But we need to find the person behind the Nightmare and take care of them.”
”Harry. What are we going to do? Kill someone?”
”If we have to. h.e.l.l's bells, Michael, they might have murdered your son.”
His face hardened, and I knew then that I had him, that he'd followed me into h.e.l.l to get at whoever had hurt his wife and child. I had him all right-and I hated myself for it. Way to go, Harry. Jerk those heartstrings like a f.u.c.king puppeteer.
I held up the book. ”I think I've got a line on the Nightmare's name. I'll bet you anything that Kravos recorded it in his book of shadows, here. If I'm right, I might be able to use it to make contact with the Nightmare and then trace his leash back to whoever's holding it.”
Michael stared at the gla.s.s, at the kids beyond it.
”I need you to drive me home. From my lab, I might be able to sort out what's going on before things get any more out of hand. Then we go handle it.”
He didn't say anything.
”Michael.”
”All right,” he said, voice quiet. ”Let's go.”
Chapter Twenty-three Twenty-three Back in my lab, it felt a little creepy to be working by candle-light. Intellectually, I knew that it was still full daylight outside, but last night had brought out the instinctive fear of the dark that is a part of being human. I had been wounded. Everything, every shadow, every small sound made me twitch and jerk and look aside.
”Steady, Harry,” I told myself. ”You have time before sundown. Just relax and get it over with.”
Good advice. Michael and I had driven around most of the morning, collecting what I would need for the spell. I'd read through Kravos's journal while Michael drove. Sick stuff. He'd been careful about listing out every step of his rituals, complete with notes on the physical ecstasy he'd experienced during the killings-nine in all. Most of them had been women or children he'd killed with a cruelly curved knife. He'd roped a bunch of young people into his fold with drugs and blackmail, and then thrown orgies where he'd either partic.i.p.ate or else channel the energy raised by all that l.u.s.t into his magic. That seemed to be standard operating procedure for guys like Kravos. Win-win situation.
A thorough man. Thorough in his efforts to kill and corrupt lives to acquire more power, thorough in the doc.u.mentation of his sick pleasures-and thorough in the listing of his efforts to secure a familiar demon by the name of Azorthragal.
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