Sweet Evil (31 page)

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Authors: Wendy Higgins

BOOK: Sweet Evil
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“Take ’em off,” he told Kaidan, who sighed and bent down to untie his black boots. I wondered whether they had steel in them. I glanced up when I felt the Neph’s eyes on me. He brazenly stared me up and down before giving me a wide-mouthed smile.

“Who’re you?”

“Anna. Belial’s daughter.” I still felt stupid saying, “Daughter of Belial,” like a
Beowulf
character. The guy stared at my badge.

Kaidan stood up and cleared his throat, making the other Neph return his attention to the boots. He did a halfhearted scan of them before nodding that they were fine and turning his attention back to me.

“Name’s Flynn Frazer,” he said, stepping close.

I took a step outward and raised my arms to the side. He stood a little closer than necessary as he waved the wand over me. And, yeah, he totally patted me down, paying close attention to my hips and bottom, which made Kaidan cross his arms and scowl.

My heart began a fierce pounding as the wand neared my ankle, but it passed over without a sound, and he didn’t touch it. I let out a frayed breath when Flynn stood back up, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Still waitin’ on a few more. See ya down there.” He nodded toward a doorway at the end of the hall. Kaidan took another long drink from a second flask as we walked down the narrow black corridor. I wondered how many flasks he had packed away on himself tonight. I kind of wished right then that I had one myself. But I needed my wits about me.

At the end of the walkway I put my hand on the glass door’s handle and took a deep, calming breath. I felt Kaidan’s warm presence close behind me. Eight months of memories tumbled into my heart right then. Just eight short months ago I didn’t know who or what I was. I’d never been passionately kissed. If someone had told me then that I would soon be dying at the hands of demons posing as gentlemen, I would have laughed and questioned their sanity. How quickly life could change.

I pulled the door open and music bounded up the dark stairs. The Dukes listened to techno? That seemed so weird that I almost burst into an inappropriate moment of nervous laughter. But I caught myself and choked it back. Time to move. One foot in front of the other.

As I descended into the den of pulsating music and awaiting evils, I silently chanted something I’d read countless times. I’d always thought the words were beautiful, but never once considered that I might need the power of their beauty for myself someday:
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me
.

I let the meaning of those words reverberate deep in my soul as I stepped into the darkened area, surveying the scene. The room was rectangular and flat, like a recreation hall, with about thirty tables that each seated four. A small stage was in the middle, about a foot and a half high. The short ceiling made me feel hemmed in, as if it might collapse on us at any moment.

I don’t know what I expected when I got down there, but there was no fanfare as I entered the room. A few Neph glanced up, but the Dukes did not seem to notice or care. I exhaled.

Nephilim were spread out around the room, sitting and standing alone or in small groups, silent and still. There were over a hundred, young and old. I felt a kinship and commonality as I glanced around at the strangers. How many of them felt the way my friends and I did about doing our fathers’ work?

The Dukes made themselves at home, lounging at the prime tables surrounding the stage. My eyes darted over them. Pharzuph sat at a table full of rowdy Dukes, leaning back in his gray suit and laughing. His shiny black dress shoes were propped up on the table.

It was eerie how handsome they all were. Even the rough-edged, rugged ones maintained fit bodies and confident postures that held appeal. I marveled at their respectable-businessmen appearances, their fine Italian suits, and ornate, traditional garb from around the world. If it weren’t for the multicolored badges of sin crested on their chests, they would seem like nothing more than powerful, self-assured humans. One woman sat among them. I’d been told of her—Jezebet. She was a picture of sophisticated Russian fashion, with short auburn hair that winged elegantly around her sharp, angular face and ears.

And then there was my father, sitting at the table next to Pharzuph’s with three other subdued Dukes. My dad stared at me. I swallowed the rush of overwhelming emotion that he caused me to feel. Knowing there was one power player on my side gave me a sliver of hope that I didn’t dare put stock in. He looked away from me, rubbing his thumb and finger down his goatee.

Kaidan poked me in the side. I spotted my group of Neph friends at the other end of the elongated room, farthest away, and headed toward them. I kept close to the wall with my head down, hoping Pharzuph would not catch my scent if I kept this distance.

Blake and Kopano sat together, and the twins sat at the table next to them. Kaidan went to the guys and I sat with the girls. We moved our chairs around so we’d all be facing the stage, with our backs to the wall. Nobody was behind us.

As I sat there I could feel my blood pulsing fast, buzzing under my skin. I kept my head down with my hair framing my face. I was able to see what was going on in the room, while feigning indifference.

Marna gave my leg a quick pat when it bounced. It took great effort to sit still. How much longer?

At the next table Kaidan continued to drink. The stress made my body crave drugs worse than ever. The glorious escape. A deep, dark, yearning pull made me want to scream and rail.

My head snapped up as the door to the comedy club opened a fraction. The redheaded guy, Flynn, entered, closing the door behind him and then standing guard in front of it. He gave a nod to the Dukes and the music cut off.

The desires of my sinful nature cracked and fell away like brittle glass, replaced by thick fear as Pharzuph stood and took the stage. He nodded his elegant head as he surveyed the room. His black hair was especially shiny tonight.

“Welcome, all. I trust that everyone had enjoyable travels to this wonderful city of New York. I regret we had to rush, but a certain problem has been put off too long. With all of the visitors to the city this weekend, we thought this would be the perfect opportunity to wreak havoc. The Dukes, Legionnaires, and Nephilim will reach many souls this night. So without further ado, let us complete our business at hand so we can move on to the greater joys of our life’s work. Shall we?”

Pharzuph gave a dazzling smile, and cheers of agreement ensued from the Dukes.

“Let us first call forth the messenger Azael so our lord Lucifer may be informed of these proceedings.”

Azael! He was the one who’d whispered to me at that party. My father trusted him.

In unison the Dukes emitted low hisses from the backs of their throats—a long hiss followed by two short ones, and repeated a second time. This was not a human sound. It had to come from deep in their souls, the stuff of horror films. Every Neph in the room went stock-still. I was covered in goose bumps and was starting to sweat, despite a triple layer of antiperspirant. I wanted to wipe my forehead, but I didn’t dare move and draw attention to myself.

Azael appeared as if coming up through the ground. He flitted grandly, with widespread wings, and then folded them in, a gray ghost hovering over the stage floor next to Pharzuph. Azael’s face appeared less frightening than those of the demons who had haunted me and stalked me the previous night. This one had catlike features, reminding me of a lion.

“Welcome, Azael. I trust our lord Lucifer is well?”

Azael inclined his head and Pharzuph continued.

“Well, then. Thank you for joining this summit. I hope you can return to him soon with news that will gladden him.” He turned to the Dukes. “And now we summon our Legionnaires.”

There was a great, loud slurring of hisses as each Duke sent out a personal message to his Legionnaires. The eeriness never lessened. It took all of my willpower not to cover my ears.

They came in from every direction, packing in on top of one another like smoky sheets of paper. The demon spirits blocked all ceiling lights, like an immense dreary fog hanging over our heads. Candlelight from the tabletops lit the room with a low, wavering glow. I kicked on my night vision. There was only one exit in the room. To say I was trapped would be a vast understatement.

“Welcome, loyal Legionnaires,” Pharzuph cooed at the blackness, with his arms open wide to them. They gave him space around the stage, but I still had to slump down a little in my chair to see.

Pharzuph focused on the Dukes now.

“You have done well since last we gathered. Humanity spoils and rots like never before in history. Soon, very soon, we will be fully prepared to take back what is rightfully ours, and nobody will keep us from the realms of our choosing!”

There was great uproar of applause from the Dukes, who bellowed their approval. Wonderful. Pharzuph was a demon cheerleader. His smile was broad as he motioned Rahab to join him onstage. This was it.

Please give me strength. Please make it fast. Please give me peace.

A ripple of peace went through me, fluid and cool, shaking off the panic that clung. I closed my eyes for a moment and envisioned Patti’s loving face.

Rahab greeted everyone with a heavy French inflection. Unlike Pharzuph, he did not smile or attempt to rile them. His tone was sobering and cold.

“Many years have passed since there was a need to address the Nephilim.” He spit the word with disgust. “And yet, just as the stupid humans do not learn from errors of the past, neither does your lesser race. It is very simple. Your life is not your own. You were bred to serve us. You work for us, or you lose the privilege of being on earth. There is one among you who has been warned, and yet still chooses poorly. Sin is a beautiful thing, but even we must not allow our sins to control us. Because when it does, we cannot properly influence humans. Simple enough, wouldn’t you say?”

Where was he going with this?

Rahab’s beady dark eyes scanned the room and I held my breath. His eyes passed over our group and stopped on a table in the middle of the room. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth on the stage. Pharzuph watched him from the side with a zealous look of worship. Rahab stopped and stared at that table in the middle again. I dared not move my body, but my eyesight stretched and zoomed, as I tried to figure out who he kept looking at. There were at least a dozen different Neph clustered at those tables in the middle.

“Gerlinda.” The way Rahab said her name felt like a slither in my ear. “Daughter of Kobal.”

Kobal? Ah, the Duke of Gluttony. What in the world was going on?

Rahab pointed, hatred and contempt blazing in his eyes. A high-pitched, pained yelp sounded from the middle of the room, like someone kicked a puppy. Suddenly chairs were scraping the old tiles, pushing back from the tables that surrounded Gerlinda. The Nephilim around her fled, leaving her in the middle alone.

Gerlinda was a tall woman in her thirties. Her straw-colored short hair was smoothed down around her face. She appeared tidy, but one thing worried me: The Dukes and Neph were always so careful to be in shape. I wasn’t good at guessing weight, but Gerlinda was likely over three hundred pounds.

She held a hand over her mouth, which had apparently emitted the yelp without her permission. Panic shone in her eyes.

“Can you manage to make it up here, Gerlinda, daughter of Kobal?” Rahab asked her in that slithery, scaly, antagonizing voice. “Or do you need an incentive?” He pulled a candy bar from his pocket and waved it in a taunt.

Gerlinda gaped with her eyes, frozen to her seat as the Dukes let out an uproar of laughter.

“Go on, salad dodger!” yelled a Fabio-looking Duke with an English accent. That had to be Astaroth, the twins’ father. How gross.

The next few minutes were filled with lewd comments and shrill laughter from the rowdier Dukes.

“Perhaps we need to roll her onto the stage.”

“I’ve got something in my pocket for you, all right.”

On and on it went.

I ran through a series of emotions during those moments. Pure joy that I was saved. Revulsion at the treatment of this girl. Dread that I would have to sit through whatever they had planned for her.

One of the Dukes threw something at Gerlinda, and suddenly there was a shower of junk food raining down. Baked goods, candies, cheese puffs. They had planned for this. I looked at my father’s table. He sat with Jezebet, Melchom, and Alocer, the fathers of Blake and Kope. The four of them watched with boredom, as if they were too cool to partake in the spectacle, but the vicious Dukes around them didn’t care.

Food continued to hit Gerlinda, and tears slid down her rosy cheeks. She didn’t try to move or shield herself from it. My heart broke for her. I wondered if this poor woman was the sole reason for tonight’s summit, or if she was just a prelude to the main show.

A tall, thin man with icy eyes and light hair stood up, pointing to the woman and shouting in German, “Gerlinda!
Erhalten Sie auf der Bühne jetzt!
” He pointed to the stage. It had to be her father, Kobal. His cheeks were red with anger. Gerlinda shook her head, and when she didn’t move he shoved his chair back, knocking it over, and made a beeline toward her. He grabbed her hard by the arm, and she screamed out as he pulled her to her feet, pushing and shoving her toward the stage. The Dukes cheered him on.

I couldn’t watch. My stomach was in a tight, hard ball and everything good inside me cried out against the injustice. How many times in history had innocent people been brutalized while bystanders stood by and did nothing? Could I be one of those bystanders? I wanted to slam my eyes shut and cover my ears, but even if I couldn’t see or hear, I would know a terrible atrocity was being done.

I doubted Gerlinda had a single person in her life who loved and encouraged her. Unlike drugs, food couldn’t be avoided. We all had to eat. Would I have done as well with my self-control if my sin were gluttony? I couldn’t imagine doing small amounts of drugs and not going overboard. It was all or nothing.

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