Ivory Guard (14 page)

With a small sign of her hand Lillian motioned for her team to drop their weapons but to stay alert.  “Okay. How about you answer some of my questions and we’ll see where we go from there?”

The demon nodded, “Deal. Shoot. What do you want to know?”

“Your name for starters.”

“Becca. And the boy you’re holding at sword point is my brother, Quinn.”

“Can he read lips?”

“Yes.”

Lillian
drew away her sword slightly. “Go, stand with your sister.” A warning in her eyes, she added, “No stunts.”

Nodding in understanding
he backed away, his hands raised, until he was beside his sister. Becca grabbed his hand as if to assure herself that he was indeed unharmed. Quinn gave her a reassuring smile, a quick tug of his lips, before they both turned their attention back to Lillian.

“
What kind of demon are you?”

“I’m a witch. And Quinn is -”

Lillian approached, but kept a safe distant. “An Ebony. Yeah, I figured as much.”

Becca’s
gaze turned hard. “Yes, he is, but a shunned one because of his handicap. He isn’t accepted as an Ebony which means he won’t ever be, and never was, trained as one.”

Lillian thought about that,
and then nodded and cocked her head, frowning. “You said you wanted to live a human life. Why? What about your good, ol’ demon way of life?”

“
Like I said, we want to live here. House, job, like any other human and that’s it. Simply put, we want to get the hell out of hell because we don’t belong there. And FYI we never indulged in what you so nicely call the ol’ demon way of life. I like a balanced diet with some junk food and chocolate thrown in…but souls? Not so much.”

A demon who wasn’t interested in mortal souls?
Lillian snorted. “Right.”

A demon
who didn’t belong to hell and didn’t enjoy a soul now and again? How stupid did the witch think she was?

“It’s true.”

“So you never took a soul?”

Something shifted in
Becca’s eyes. Lillian couldn’t believe it when she saw guilt flickering there. Her brother seemed to watch her as intently as Lillian was.

“I did. But only when I had to.”

Her brother didn’t make a sound, but his surprise and pain was clear on his face. What the hell was going on here?

“Which means?”

Becca’s voice was strong and her eyes serious, never leaving Lillian’s. “It means I only took a soul when suspicion arose and I needed to get the demon lord off our backs.”

The witch could have lied. Could have said she had never taken a soul, but instead she admitted to taking them when necessary.
Although Lillian fought demons from hell, she had no real idea about how they lived and operated. And so she didn’t know whether to believe Becca or not. Her heart and mind were fighting like never before. Demons were only interested in mortal souls, as food or currency or just for the fun of it. Sending humans to hell was their goal, their whole purpose in life. They wanted to play, to seduce and to corrupt. Certainly not build ordinary lives and work a nine-to-five. And yet…she wanted to believe Becca. Wanted to trust the love and honesty in her eyes.

She had a decision to make.

Dammit, she better not regret this but she would stick with her heart. She threw her guards a glance to assure them that she would explain later, although she knew they would never question her or her abilities in front of their enemy to begin with.

“Okay.
You’ll come with us.” She held up a finger as Becca visibly relaxed. “But one wrong move and-“

“I get it. But, I promise, we won’t cause you any trouble.”

God, she hoped so. “Let’s go.”

The safe house was a
two-story logwood cabin in the woods, a good ten miles from the rest of civilization and in a purgatory bubble that turned their world into the usual black-and-white grayness as soon as they crossed over. It looked about as welcoming and abandoned as the first one she had ever stepped foot into with some of the first floor windows barricaded and nailed shut, but luckily the inside was a little more up to date and much less battle-worn.

“Home sweet home,” Lillian announced at soon as they entered.

With quick movements that had become automatic over time the four guards shed their coats and turned to stand in a loose circle in the middle of the hall and started to play a round of rock-paper-scissors.

“Yes
!.” Abby squealed as her scissors beat them all and winked before heading upstairs. “The shower is mine. Later guys.”

Catching
her stunned and amused gaze as Becca watched them, Lillian couldn’t quite hide a timid smile as she explained with a shrug, “Tradition.” Turning towards Matt and Joshua she suggested, “How about you guys go into the living room with our…guests? I…have to take care of something.”

In the silent kitchen Lillian stepped towards the sink and looked at the window, boarded shut with planks of wood. Her eyes absently followed the creases where the day’s last light could
slide through.

S
he had brought two demons into their safe house.

And this one really was all on her, even the house
hadn’t restricted entrance to them only because it had recognized their visit as something she allowed, from the bottom of her heart.

And then there were her parents. Would the Ebony really go after them? She snorted at her own naivety. Of course, he would. But did he know where they lived? Was it just a bluff?
No, it probably wasn’t.

She wondered whether they still lived in Kansas. Maion had taken her to see them once, over a year ago. Wh
en she had stopped and watched them through the window of their new house, it had hurt like hell and knowing she had to say goodbye again had become a weight so heavy in her heart that in the end she had simply stood there for half an hour or so and then asked Maion to take her back. They were fine and that was all that had really mattered to her.

Lillian called out, “Maion?”

Please let this work, she thought. The angel rarely came when you needed him, only when he needed to tell them where to move on to.

Her eyes snapped open a
s a loud thump and crash behind her followed by a moan nearly made her jump out of her skin. In one fluid move her hand automatically pulled a knife from the block close by, while Lillian whirled around…only to sigh and nearly roll her eyes – well, it was better than to throttle the angel that had clumsily landed on their kitchen table, thus breaking it.

Maion.
He had been their contact ever since Raz…damn, would that stab of pain never disappear? Well, ever since the bastard had bailed on them.

The angel was unsuccessfully trying to get his feet back under him as he lay on the floor about as graceful as a stranded fish. He was drunk, again. And not just the merry kind of drunk she had come to know him for, no, it had changed. He had changed. Into a full-blown alcoholic
and he wasn’t getting any better. Once again Lillian wondered what was going on with the angel – and why nobody else seemed to be worried about it.

With a
nother sigh she put down the knife and bent to help him up. “Come on, help me out a little. You aren’t exactly a lightweight.”

She struggled but finally managed to dump him into a chair. His head lolled on his shoulders.
Ah shit. There had been a glass bowl and other breakables on the table. Blood was dripping onto the floor.

“You okay? Hey, Maion!
Are you hurt?”

He blinked, trying to focus on the room and then on her face.

Stifling another sigh she looked him over. His right leg, side and hand were bleeding. His back probably too.

“Dammit, Maion.”
The hand seemed to have gotten the worst though and she grabbed for it but he snatched his hand away.

“Just a scratch.”

“Tell that to your pinky.”

“My pinky?”
Frowning he held up his left hand - which only sported four fingers now instead of the more healthy five - in front of his face. “Where the hell’s my pinky?”

“On the floor.”

“Oh.”

Yeah.
His left wing looked to be broken as well.

Closing her eyes for a second Lillian tried to decide what to do.
She knew angels healed from such cuts and slices, but it would take time. However she had no idea how a pinky on the floor or a broken wing would heal if he didn’t go back to heaven, or whether alcoholic intoxication could screw his healing up.

Once again she went with her gut
. Closing her eyes as if shutting out the world would suddenly offer answers to all her questions, she couldn’t believe what she was about to do, about to ask.

Then she
called out, “Becca? I could use a hand here in the kitchen.” Well, a finger would be more accurate actually.

The witch
strolled into the kitchen and abruptly stopped in her tracks. She took in the table, the angel and the blood, and Lillian was impressed how she could make her eyebrows go up like that. “Do I want to know?”

“Bad landing.
Can you help him, or his pinky?” Lillian held up the appendix in question.

“He’s an angel.”

“Yup.”

“I’m new at this
whole giving yourself into enemy hands thing, but I’m pretty sure that even though you Ivory guys might not kill me, the angel certainly will.”

“There’s a risk, I admit. But I took one by bringing you here as well.” Maion moaned, his head dropping to his chest
, and Lillian added somewhat drily, “Besides, I doubt he’ll remember you in the morning.”

The witch
put her hands on her hips and stared at Lillian with an intensity that was almost palpable as if the answers were hidden clues in the scene in front of her, until she finally sighed. “Okay, you win. But I need my bag for this and some space.”

FIFTEEN

With Matt and Joshua’s help they took Maion into one of the three bedrooms and laid him down on the bed, on his left side since they had discovered more cuts on his back and one big, ragged shard of glass had cut deep and was still stuck in his right side. Inwardly Lillian cursed the angel when she saw that even the small cuts hadn’t closed up yet. Apparently her theory had been spot on and he couldn’t heal while in an alcohol and therefore self-induced coma.

Self-discipline, my ass
, Lillian thought.

A
fter rummaging in her bag, Becca asked them to move the bed into the middle of the room and then turned around to face Lillian. “Do you have any white or blue candles handy?”

“White ones.
And cream, I think.”

“Good.
Cream will do, too. How many do you have? Three would be good, four would be even better.”

“Be right back.” Lillian left to hunt down the candles. Becca was lucky that most of their safe houses didn’t have electricity and they relied on candles for lighting. They always had some in their trunk.

When she came back with the four candles, her guard was watching Becca with a mix of caution and curiosity in their eyes while the witch seemed unfazed and solely focused on the task at hand.

Becca saw her and came towards her.
“Ah, perfect.”

Taking the heavy, thick candles she started placing them around the bed
one by one.

The four quarters, Lillian realized.
North, south, east and west. To herself she admitted she had expected something more along the lines of a pentacle or upside down pentagram. So far this ritual or whatever it was called was rather…harmless. A glance at her friends told her their thoughts mirrored her own.

“I can’t heal him completely,
especially not his pinky since he’s an angel and magic won’t work on him that way, but I‘ll help his body to fight off the effects of the alcohol so he’ll be able to heal on his own soon enough. The bleeding should slow down, if not cease, as well.”

Lillian nodded her agreement. It was better than nothing.

Silence settled once again around them, heavy with anticipation and a healthy dose of suspicion. Intrigued they all watched as a witch in a polka-dotted dress held branches of what Lillian supposed were rosemary and thyme to a candle’s flame. The fresh, earthy and yet sweet scents filled the room, and then Becca closed her eyes and began to chant under her breath, leaning over Maion, stroking her hands gently over his body. Barely touching him and keeping the herbs’ branches in her hand, she moved them from his forehead to his neck, shoulders and hands, back up to his stomach where she rested a second longer over his liver and bleeding sides before moving down his legs. Up again those small hands went, this time heading slowly but steadily towards the wings which had been blindingly white when Lillian had first met Maion but appeared dull now and even a little off-white when one looked more closely. The fact that his wings were too big for the bed and drooping over the edges didn’t help to distract from the sad truth either.

Concentrating on Maion instead of
Becca’s movements, Lillian could see his chest starting to move slower, more regular, as if he was in a deep, resting sleep. When the blood dripping from his cuts on his sides and his hand slowed down, she exhaled in relief.

An hour later Maion was still fast asleep and Lillian had finished cleaning and bandaging the remaining cuts and wounds. The small ones had already started to heal thanks to
Becca’s magic, only the deeper cuts and his hand still bled, albeit slightly. She didn’t know what would happen to his pinky and whether he would be able to heal himself once he woke up, but for the meantime she had bandaged his hand and put his finger on ice. That was all she could for now.

Moving to the doorway she looked back at the angel, sleeping peacefully, surrounded by burning white candles. It looked so surreal, but it was her life. With
a small shake of her head and a sigh she went downstairs.

She found Abby in the kitchen, cleaning up the last remnants of the mess Maion had made w
ith his crash landing. “Need help?”

Abby crouched down to sweep up the last pile of broken bits of glass and wood. “No, I’m about done.
The guys piled the table in the backyard, or rather what was left of it anyway.” Her ponytail of braids swept over her back as she looked up with a grin on her face. “Thought we could do a little bonfire.”

Lillian laughed.
“Why the hell not? It would make up for this whole mess.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”
When Abby got up her expression grew more serious. “So…we have an Ebony and a witch sitting in the living room.”

“Yeah.”
Lillian knew this issue wasn’t one she could push away endlessly – like some of the others plaguing her. “What do you think about all that?”

Abby shrugged.
“It’s weird. I think that’s the best word to describe it. We’ve spent the last two years fighting demons and now…” When she saw Lillian’s face, she added, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m behind you. Always have and always will be. I saw what you saw. A witch with a boy who behaved…well, like normal people do. They care for each other and…”

When Abby moved her shoulders helplessly, Lillian had to laugh. It was exactly how she felt.
“Aren’t what we are used to.”

“Yeah.
It could be a trap, granted. But then, why help Maion? And look at how she helped him. It didn’t seem to involve any kind of blood-letting or virgin sacrifices, so I guess…we can give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“
And Matt and Joshua? Any idea whether they’re on the same page?”

“They are.”

Huh. Somehow Lillian felt…confused. Not that she was complaining, but she had definitely expected some more arguing and WTFs from her guard.

Abby, who could read her like a book, saw it all too clearly and
chuckled. “What, you think we’d have had fun in killing those two. Come on, we still work for the good guys after all, and I for one think this is a nice change.”

“Maybe
, but our bosses sure won’t see it that way. Their world is black and white, and leaves no place for gray.” She ran her hands through her hair which she kept short in a wild, asymmetrical cut with the longest strands barely brushing her neck.

“We’ll deal with the bosses when we have to. Until then, no one knows what happened. So why worry?” Abby shrugged and turned around to take care of the trash.

Lillian stared after her friend as she went outside.

Why worry? Well, if there was one
demon that didn’t prey on human souls, who knew how many others there were. Was that possible? And if so, how many demons had they killed who maybe didn’t even deserve it? She had the feeling she stood at the edge of a gaping, bottomless abyss, about to tumble, as the realization of the gravity of the situation hit her.

“Oh God.”
Lillian closed her eyes, against the wave of guilt and nausea that immediately threatened to flood her. No, no, no. No, it couldn’t be. Surely the angels wouldn’t allow for innocents to get hurt, she tried to reassure herself and get a hold of her thoughts. But could a demon ever be innocent in their book? She grabbed the edge of the counter like it was a lifeline as her head and thoughts were swirling, her mind bursting with questions and doubts. No. This couldn’t be happening. Had they been – No, stop! Until she knew more Lillian needed to calm down. She had to focus.

One step at a time.
Find the facts and then move on from there.

For now s
he needed to talk to Becca.

After t
aking a deep breath that couldn’t stop an apprehensive tremble from running through her, she headed towards the living area. The witch and her brother were calmly sitting on the couch while Matt was subtly keeping an eye on them from the armchair in the corner. Joshua was probably still out preparing that bonfire of theirs.

Lillian sat down in another chair to the side of the couch and said, “Thanks for helping us
with Maion. I don’t know what exactly it was you did, but he’s better now and that’s what’s important. So…thanks.”

“No problem.” A small smile tugged at
Becca’s lips. “Wasn’t quite what you expected, was it?”

Lillian’s own mouth spread into a smile, as she
thought of what Abby had said earlier and then shrugged. “I think we all expected something…darker.” She looked at Matt, who nodded in agreement.

“Oh, there’s that kind of magic. Don’t get me wrong.
Technically every magic worked is bad. But like with everything else in life, there exists different levels of bad.”

“Which level are you?”

“I try my best to keep my magic as clean as possible.”

Matt
frowned. “Like white magic?”

“No. Only humans call it black and white magic, but things aren’t that easy to differentiate.
There’s no such thing as white magic. Magic always needs some kind of sacrifice, but there are witches who try to keep those sacrifices on a minimum. If blood is needed, they use their own instead of someone else’s. If death or more is needed, they’ll use animals but never humans or their souls. That kind of magic is despised in hell. It’s called faux magic, contrary to true magic.”

Lillian buried
her face in her hands before looking back up, shaking her head in disbelief. “God, why don’t we know this stuff?”

Becca snorted
, warm purgatory-dark eyes sadly laughing. “You think it’s different on our side? Believe me, it’s not. It’s failsafe policy on both sides…keep everyone in the dark and stumbling around and call it God’s design, or devil’s handiwork as the case may be, when someone finds the proper target.”

It sounded bitter and yet it was exactly how Lillian felt.

Matt leaned forward, a curious but serious glint in his eyes. “If faux magic is despised in hell, what happens to the witches that use it instead of the real thing?”

Becca shrugged. “
Guess, the same as what happens to the fallen on your side.”

“I don’t know what happens to those.”

“Killed or buried in oblivion.”

She said it casually, but Lillian wasn’t fooled. “That’s why you want to get out of hell.
Before they have the chance to do either with you.”

“
That’s right.”

Lillian stood outside, leaning against the old wooden porch railing and stared up at the
night sky wondering at the change this day had brought to herself and her little world, and why it wouldn’t be reflected in the rest of it – like night becoming day.

In a mere couple of hours they had gone from killing dem
ons to working with them.

Through the shroud of fast moving clouds she could catch gl
impses of the moon, so pale tonight, and stars.

Stargazer.

Her nickname came out of nowhere to her mind and made her heart clench with the pain it brought
and yet she barely felt it, having gotten used to it over time. No one else had ever called her that. The backs of her eyes hurt as tears threatened. Two years. So much for ‘time heals all wounds’. Big load of bullshit as far as Lillian was concerned.

Did she cross a line today? Made a decision, a fatal mistake even, she couldn’t come back from? Gone
from amusingly crazy into utterly insane?

God, the bastard had left her high and dry, without
a goodbye, without so much as a word…and yet she still longed for him. Would have liked to talk to him now, someone who knew her world and
her
. Those silver gray eyes of his had always looked right into her and … seen everything, every shadowy corner, and bump and hollow she had no idea of.

I
n the dark of the night Lillian could admit that she felt lonely and that she still thought about him, about them. Where was he now? Close by? Far away? She didn’t know and that hurt more than anything else.

What was he doing?
Ivory duty or some other angelic business? She had tried to ask Maion once, but he had changed the subject so fast, she had had whiplash. And lately Maion never was sober enough to really talk with anyway.  He only and barely managed to get out their next destination and that was about it.

Raz.

Lillian chuckled bitterly to herself, the sound as lonely in the dark silence as she felt. What she wouldn’t give to see his face, if he knew what she was up to. Housing a witch and an Ebony. What would he say to her now? Would he tell her that her parents were fine? Would he tell her that everything would be alright? That she had been right to let the witch live? Her stomach felt like lead as she imagined his expression of utter shock … and disappointment. She could see it all too clearly, and yet she hoped he would understand why she did what she had done today.

Sighing deeply, her breath clouding in front of her mouth Lillian shook her head. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t here. It was like a mantra that some nights she had to repeat over and over again
, because sometimes she just couldn’t help thinking about him. Some nights, she just couldn’t help but wonder why he had gone and whether she would ever see him again.