Angelbound (21 page)

Xavier slips through the back door of the Senate chamber and stands along the far wall. He wears a gray suit with a blue tie that highlights his turquoise eyes. As he watches Mom, his stern face softens into a smile. A warm feeling spreads through my chest. The two of them must have worked out their differences.
Nice job, Mom.

My mother scans the crowd. “This bill will help guardian angels find their human’s soul after death, just as previous legislation helps their tempting demon find them today. Please respect our sacred role in keeping Purgatory a neutral and fair space for souls.”

Mom scans the senate floor. All eyes are fixed on her.

“Next week, remember the human souls entering Purgatory every day, every moment. Vote in favor of the Myung-Lewis bill. Thank you.”

The chamber’s silent for a moment, then members of the Senate begin to clap. The applause quickly swells. I join in and cheer, every cell in my body bursting with pride.
Go, Camilla!

Bowing slightly, Mom steps away from the podium. The room echoes with low chatter as everyone rises to their feet and moves on with their day. A small group of Senators encircle Mom, asking questions. Tim rushes through the back door of the room, his long robes fluttering with each step. He gently touches Mom’s upper arm.

“Senator Lewis, we must depart for the committee meeting.”

“Thank you, Tim.” She rests her hand on his shoulder. He shivers.

Together, they leave the chamber. Xavier watches them go, and then he follows a short distance behind. They step through a series of long marble passageways until reaching a small wooden door. Xavier hangs back in the busy hall.

I watch Xavier as he keeps a careful distance from my mother. His movements are protective, almost possessive, but not in a creepy-stalker way. Hmm. I might be starting to like this guy.

Tim holds the door open. “The committee will meet in here today, Senator Lewis.”

Mom steps inside. “Thank you.” She and Tim walk to a long wooden table surrounded by heavy leather chairs. As they take their seats, two new figures step into the room. One’s a familiar-looking ghoul in a long black robe. The other is Armageddon.

My body goes on full alert. Armageddon’s here? I want to break through the dreamscape, grab Mom’s hand, and run for it. Instead, I feel rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but brace myself against jolts of panic.

Mom scans the newcomer, her face rounding into a polite smile. “Good afternoon, Ambassador.”

Wait a second. Mom used to work with Armageddon? Whoa. I scan their faces. No one seems affected by his greater demon aura. They should be slammed with fear, but all of them—especially Mom—appear genuinely calm. My mind whirls until the reason’s clear: Armageddon turned into a greater demon when he became King of Hell. Clever. There’s more to his takeover of Purgatory
than I first suspected.

Armageddon’s long black face wears an unreadable expression. “Senator.”

Mom turns to address the ghoul. “Greetings to you, O-72.”

O-72 nods. “We thank you.”

Suddenly, I realize where I’ve seen that ghoul before. Slap a red robe on that guy and he’s one of the Oligarchy today. I’ve seen him at matches a dozen times.

Armageddon, Mom, and an Oligarchy ghoul? What in blazes is going on here?

My sleepy mind struggles to understand what I’m seeing. I’ve adjusted to the concept that Mom was a Senator. In fact, it’s been awesome seeing her in action. But finding out that she dealt with Armageddon drives a lead feeling into my stomach. I know how this story ends, and it can’t be good that Mom was in the middle of it.

Xavier walks into the room. “Good afternoon, everyone.” He slides in to a leather chair across from Mom.

Armageddon eyes Xavier’s every move, his face unmoving, his irises flaring bright red. “Ambassador Cross.” His upper lip twists, exposing a sharp canine. Shivers of anxiety rattle my spine. Clearly, Armageddon hates Xavier with a vengeance. What happened between these two?

Mom motions to Tim. “Let’s begin.” He pulls a manila folder from within the folds of his robes and hands it to her. “Thank you, Tim.” She sets the folder before her on the tabletop. “Our first item of the day is a diplomacy tour of–”

Armageddon leans back in his chair. “No. I have unfinished business here.” He steeples his three-knuckled fingers under his pointed chin. “You know what I
want.”

O-72 lets out a long breath. “I’ve heard it many times, Armageddon. Maybe someday you’ll become the King of Hell, but right now you’re a common demon, fourth class.”

Armageddon visibly cringes at these words. “So you keep telling me.”

Beads of black sweat appear on O-72’s forehead. He adjusts the neckline of his ghoul robes. “The rules are the rules. Only two categories of demons go to iconigrations and Arena matches: the first class and the King of Hell. Not fourth class demons. Not you. Be thankful you’ve been appointed delegate to this Council. It’s a great honor for someone with your humble background.”

Armageddon’s eyes narrow. “But not the honor I want. My son moves souls at the Arena. I want to be there.”

Mom stays unflappable. “We appreciate that your son is the Great Scala. Perhaps you could arrange to see him outside of the Arena?”

Armageddon bares his teeth. “The thrax poisoned his mind against me. You all know this.” He pounds the table with his fist. “I want Arena access to my son.” He scans the table with a predatory glare. “I wish to see him move souls.”

I inhale a stunned breath. I knew the Scala was Armageddon’s son, but I didn’t realize the old demon wanted anything to do with his child. A tremor of fear rattles my shoulders. Armageddon’s calculating something, weaving his invisible plans. He did this when he schemed his takeover of Purgatory; it gives me the creeps.

O-72 wags his massive gray head. “This is not possible. Ghouls only allow
certain demons into any Arena event. The rules are the rules.”

“I see.” Armageddon laces his three-knuckled fingers together by his long neck. “We all bend the rules. Sometimes.” He skewers O-72 with a look that speaks of hidden secrets that Armageddon has stockpiled for just such an occasion. “You, of all of us, should understand that.”

O-72 clears this throat. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Armageddon lowers his hands, his mouth curling into an evil grin. “That’s all I ask.” He rises to his feet. “We’re done here.”

Mom points directly at Armageddon’s chest. “Where are you going?”

I gasp.
Damn, Mom!
Going toe-to-toe with the future King of Hell. My chest tightens with bands of worry.

Xavier raises his hand. “If Armageddon wishes to
retreat
, he may.” Something in his tone says the word ‘retreat’ is laced with some particular memory, one that Xavier is flaunting in the demon’s face.

Armageddon twists his head to glare at Xavier, a low hiss sounds from his throat. “Your time will come.”

Xavier’s blue eyes flare brightly. “We’ll see.”

Mom knocks on the tabletop with her fist. “We have important matters to discuss here today.” She taps the manila folder with her pointer finger. “Let’s get back to it.”

Armageddon curls his finger to O-72. “Come with me.”

O-72 dutifully rises to his feet and follows Armageddon from the room. He couldn’t be more under the demon’s control if marionette strings trailed from his
robes. Mom watches the pair leave, her face still as stone.

I bite my lower lip anxiously. Not a good look from Mom. She’s about ready to lose her freaking mind on someone. At least, it’s not me.

Mom rounds on Xavier. “Why didn’t you back me up? Armageddon should never have been able to leave the meeting early.” She pushes her manila folder away from her, and it flies halfway down the table. “We can’t let him collude with ghouls and override the authority of this office.”

Xavier laughs. “Please. I’ve watched ghouls and demons fight each other for thousands of years. They’ll plot for a time, and then they’ll fight over some nonsense and go home. Demons are chaos and destruction. Ghouls are rules and regulations. Oil and water don’t mix.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times, Armageddon is different.” Her eyes flare red. “We can’t let him go unchallenged.”

Every cell in my body screams that she is right. I want to jump into the dreamscape and start shaking Xavier by the shoulders, telling him to listen to Mom or I’ll kick him in the shins. But I can’t do anything.

But Xavier doesn’t seem to hear my mother, let alone me. He leans back in his chair, his head gently shaking from side to side. Standing behind them both, Tim looks so mousy and frightened, I’m surprised that he doesn’t duck under the table to hide.

Xavier drums his fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve seen Armageddon’s type before. He doesn’t have the staying power to really change the system.”

Ha! Armageddon tears down the whole freaking system single-handedly.
Please, listen. Please, please, please!

Mom rubs her neck with her hand. “Have you heard him go on about his son? It’s strange. He wants access to Maxon and will do anything to get it.”

Xavier laughs. “Do you hear yourself? A demon loves his son. It’s insane, Camilla.”

“I didn’t say he loves his son.” Mom sets her palms on her eyes. “He’s plotting something, something big, and he needs Maxon for it.” She lowers her hands until her gaze meets Xavier’s straight on. “Armageddon is dangerous. We’re all at risk.”

Her look of worry sets my stomach churning. I so want to jump to her side, wrap my arm around her shoulder, and tell her that I’ll be with her soon.

Xavier has the same general idea. He leans forward, his blue eyes searching Mom’s face. “I’d never let anything happen to you, Camilla. You have nothing to worry about.”

Mom reaches across the table, wrapping her hand around Xavier’s. “I hope you’re right, Xavier.” Energy flares around them when they touch.

Tim looks just about ready to puke or scream, I can’t tell which. I watch his tortured face and realize one thing: if this ghoul is my father, then he’s definitely the jealous type. His mouth presses into such an angry line, I’m shocked he doesn’t break a tooth. Maybe that’s why he isn’t part of our lives. My heart sinks to my toes. Or maybe Mom lied to me about Tim being my father in the first place. I wag my head from side to side. Not possible. Mom’s a lot of things, but a liar? Not one of them.

Mom gives Xavier’s hand a little shake. “But unfortunately, I have
a lot
to worry about.” She tilts her head to one side. “First on the list is you, Xavier Cross. I’m doing my job without backing from the angels. We need to be strict with Armageddon right now, and to do that we must stay in lock step–”

Xavier’s eyes gleam bright blue. “No, you don’t need to worry about Armageddon.” He grips her hand more rightly. Tim watches the movement and gasps.

Tim’s not the only one who’s shocked. Why-oh-why isn’t that angelic whatever-he-is not listening to the truth? As Xavier’s eyes glow brighter, Mom’s turn glassy and dead. My body goes on full alert. Xavier’s using angelic influence on her, the dirt bag. I want to jump into the image and kick his ass across the room. Maybe twice.

Mom rubs her forehead with her free hand. “Yes, there’s nothing…” She pauses; then she shakes her head vigorously. Her eyes flare demon-bright. “How
dare
you try to use angelic influence on me!”

Alright, Mom! Way to shut that move down. I exhale a ragged breath, my alert level returning to something like normal.

Mom rises to her feet. “This is outrageous. I’m placing a formal request for a new angelic Ambassador and for a censure of Armageddon.”

Xavier frowns. “They won’t listen to you like I do, Camilla. You’ll be committing career suicide. Your ideas will sound insane.”

“That may be, but my paperwork will be filed by week’s end.” She storms from the room with Tim behind her. Xavier watches her go, his face turning white with
worry. The look on his face is so loving and gentle, I want to give him a hug, even though he is a bit of a nut job.

Before me, Xavier’s body transforms into sand once more. With a low hiss, the entire scene melts back into the desert floor. I sit back on the gray sand. My mind runs through every detail of what I’ve just seen. Armageddon’s obsession with Maxon…how the first of the Oligarchy was controlled by Armageddon…And Mom’s battle to get the threat taken seriously. Sulphur sears my lungs, wind pelts my body, but none of it seems to matter.

I wake to the sound of scraping metal. I open my eyes, seeing gray sky outside my window. I yawn, slip out of bed, and walk into the kitchen. Mom stands before the table, holding a flat block of wood with a long metal arm: a fabric slicer. She pulls the razor-sharp arm up and down, making long cuts on black cloth.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Good morning, Myla.” I examine her face. Mom’s skin is creased with lines. Her hair is coarse and streaked with gray. Her once-vibrant smile is now a look of constant worry.

What did the war do to her?

Mom makes another cut with the slicer. “I hope I didn’t wake you up. It’s faster to cut hoods this way.”

I lean against the chipped countertop. “It’s fine.”

“How’d you sleep?” The way Mom asks the question, I think what she already knows the answer.

“Not so good. Verus sent me another dreamscape. I saw you in some Senate committee meetings. Did you really know Armageddon before the war?”

“That I did. For thousands of years, ghouls and demons had never trusted each other enough to team up. That all changed with Armageddon.”

“I see him at matches sometimes.” I picture the long pointed face, blade-like nose, black stone skin, and fiery eyes. “He’s terrifying.”

“He was
always
frightening, but once Armageddon became a greater demon, he hit a new level of awful.” She shivers. “I’ve heard that now, no human, angel, or ghoul can stand to be near him for more than a few minutes.”

“I’d believe that.”

She makes another slice with the chopping arm. “He blackmailed or bribed all the ghouls who became the new Oligarchy. Purgatory’s defenses allow only a handful of demons to enter at a time. Armageddon convinced the ghouls to open enough portals for an entire demon army to enter our lands.”