Niki Slobodian 03 - Before the Devil Knows You're Dead Read online

  Before the Devil

  Knows You're Dead

  by

  J.L. Murray

  Copyright © 2012 by J.L. Murray

  All Rights Reserved.

  Kindle Edition published by Hellzapoppin Press, Honolulu Hawai'i.

  Cover art by Indie Author Services, http://www.indieauthorservices.com

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  One

  An explosion shook the Deep Blue Sea, rattling glasses and liquor bottles, making them clink like chimes in a violent wind. I grasped the bar for support, but my hand slipped and my legs, wobbly to begin with, buckled. I fell to the floor with a grunt. I felt like I hadn't eaten in weeks. My throat was dry and my lips felt about to crack. Apparently, coming back from the dead is hard work.

  I felt strong arms pick me up and carry me across the room. A series of images flashed behind my eyes as a hand touched my bare arm. A woman in a wedding dress looking into my face with tears in her pretty eyes. A baby being handed to me in a hospital room. A living room covered in blood with a trail leading down the hall. Bobby Gage set me down gently on a hard surface and the images stopped. I sighed with relief. He looked down at me for a moment, his face hard and fearful at the same time. I relaxed and closed my eyes. I was in the booth Sam and I always shared. I slept, forgetting my hunger, my thirst, and the sounds of the world falling apart.

  I woke with a start and sat up quickly. I immediately regretted it, and touched my forehead as the dizziness subsided. Sam was sitting on the other side of the booth and pushed a bowl across the table towards me. I felt a draft and realized I was still wearing only Gage's coat. I pulled it tighter around me.

  “How long was I out?” I said.

  Sam shrugged halfheartedly. “Half hour. No more,” he said. He looked tired. More tired than I had ever seen him. He had changed into fresh clothes, but his face was drawn and the circles under his eyes were so deep they looked like bruises.

  I looked down at the table to see what he had pushed toward me. A bowl of pretzels. I raised an eyebrow. He almost smiled.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I don't have much in the way of food here.”

  I picked one up and chewed. It was stale, but I was starving. I ate the whole bowl before looking up. “Natalie,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said. “I thought you would want to talk about that.”

  “She's my sister,” I said. I had told her I would return for her. But before I could get there, she had been taken. And then the war started.

  The bar shook with an explosion. A sound like rocks hitting the walls reverberated through the building. Sam closed his eyes.

  “Are we safe here?” I said.

  “Here?” he said. “Yes, we're safe. Nothing can get through that I don't allow. Only friends can cross that threshold. People that have been here before. And the ones that I wish to come.”

  “Sam, I feel strange,” I said. There was a tickle in my head, as if something in the back of my brain were trying to scratch its way out. And now that I was full of bar snacks, I felt a strange warmth welling out from my chest. There was a glass of water in front of Sam. I felt thirstier than I had ever been. He saw me eying it, and pushed it gently toward me. I drank the entire glass.

  “I think,” Sam said finally, sadness in his voice, “you'll find that things will be a bit different for you.”

  “Different?” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Different how?”

  “That remains to be seen,” he said. He ran a hand through his hair. “You were dead, Niki,” he said. His voice was thick. “I just couldn't help myself.”

  “What did you do exactly?” I said. “It hurt like hell, I remember that much. It hurt worse than...” I couldn't finish, it was too strange to say. But it was there, hanging in the air: Coming back from the dead hurt worse than dying.

  “It was forbidden,” said Sam, looking at me. His eyes were stormy, shapes moving across the surface like black clouds in a hurricane. “It has been done before, but very rarely. Among my kind, the Arches, it is looked upon as...very dark.”

  I hesitated. “Something that would start a war?” I said slowly.

  Sam nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Something that would start a war.”

  Another blast echoed through the Deep Blue Sea. I noticed that Gage was sitting alone at the bar, his shoulders hunched. I shook my head, trying to comprehend.

  “So, what's happening outside, this war, it's between Heaven and Hell?”

  “Yes,” he said weakly.

  “And something like this hasn't happened since, what? The beginning of time?”

  “The One War,” he said.

  “And all this is because of me?”

  Sam frowned. “In a way, I suppose. But it's not your fault. It's mine.”

  “I chose,” I said. I could feel the heat in my chest grow hotter. “You asked me to choose and I did. I chose to come back.”

  “It wasn't fair,” he said, shaking his head. “I never should have asked you to make the choice. You didn't know. This is my mess, Niki. I'm so sorry, so very sorry I've involved you. I just saw you, burning, black. Dead. It was as if the world no longer existed. No longer mattered. All I could think of was myself. How could I continue without you in the world? It was selfish.” He closed his eyes again. “This is my mess,” he repeated. “I have to fix it somehow.”

  I felt like my chest was on fire. I couldn't get air. I squeezed my eyes shut. It was happening again. I was burning. Sam had brought me back but now it was happening again.

  “Niki?” Sam said. “What's wrong?” He sounded worried, but all I could feel was the overwhelming heat radiating from my chest.

  “Niki,” said Gage, suddenly beside me, his voice laced with concern. I felt his hand touch my forehead. An image of a plump woman lying dead in a bed flashed in my head. Gage winced as he pulled back his hand. The image disappeared. “She's hot as hell,” said Bobby.

  Two hands touched my shoulders firmly. I opened my eyes to see Sam's face, his hands clenching my shoulders. His eyes closed and his mouth pursed in concentration. I felt the heat cool slowly, and work its way, bit by bit, to Sam's hands. His cheeks colored as the feeling of burning left me, though the sensation in my chest was still there. I gasped as I could breathe again. He opened his eyes and looked at me, his eyes paler than I had ever seen them. They were shining, almost white. Then they returned after a moment back to their usual black. He had lost his bruised, tired look and almost looked like his old self again.

  “I don't understand,” he whispered.

  “I thought I was dying,” I said. “I thought I was burning again.”

  “That wasn't death,” said Sam. “That was power.”

  “Someone want to clue me in on what just happened?” said Gage. “What the hell was that? I touched her and she was burning up.” I looked at Gage and he held up his hand. His palm was an angry red. Sam turned to look at Bobby.

  “I don't know, Robert,” he said. “I expected that she would take on certain mild abilities, but I'm at a loss.” Sam looked back at me. “She was filled with power. Perhaps bringing her back triggered something.”

  “
Triggered?” I said, my voice hoarse. “What do you mean 'triggered?'”

  “Perhaps an ability, just below the surface, that hadn't manifested itself yet.”

  “So I'm some kind of double Abnormal?” I said.

  “That power is far beyond anything I have ever felt in any humans, or, as you call them, Abbies,” said Sam. “I'm just as surprised as you are.”

  “I doubt that,” I said.

  Gage sat down opposite us. “So Niki's got some kind of crazy-powerful ability, but we don't know what it is, or what it does, or how she got it?”

  “Yes,” said Sam.

  I leaned back and sighed. “Peachy.”

  “Robert,” said Sam. “Would you be so kind as to get Niki a drink? I believe she would very much like a Jameson.”

  Gage didn't move. I looked at him. He stared back, looking astonished. “What the hell are you looking at, Bobby?” I said, wrapping the coat around myself.

  “Jesus, Niki,” said Gage. “Your eyes.”

  “What about them?” I said. I grabbed the nearby chrome napkin holder and held it up to my face. Though the image was distorted, I could see very clearly what Gage had meant. My eyes were dark and shifting, like the clouds at night. Sam's eyes. Angel eyes. I felt the sensation of heat flare up inside me and for a moment my eyes flickered white, then back to black. I looked at Sam.

  “Oh, dear,” he said.

  “What's happening?” I said. “What the hell is happening to me?”

  “I honestly have no idea,” said Sam.

  Gage poured the whiskey while I sat, staring at my distorted reflection. My eyes continued to go from black to blazing white. I'd never be able to hide being an Abby now. Something told me that colored contacts wouldn't be able to hide this. As the building shook from the explosions outside, I wondered if it even mattered any more. If the fighting kept up much longer, nobody would be arguing about who was Abby and who was Normal. At this rate, everyone would soon be dead.

  Sam left and came back with some clothes from behind the bar. Mine had burned off in the fire when I died, and Gage had given me his coat. “I keep a change of clothes here. They'll be very long on you, but you can use my belt and roll them up.”

  I looked at the garments. Pinstripe pants and a white, button-up shirt. I shrugged. “Could be worse,” I said. Gage set the drink in front of me and I downed it in one gulp. The warmth of the whiskey spread down through my body, taking my mind off the other sensation, the feeling of heat deep behind my sternum. I took the clothes and walked barefoot across the bar and ducked behind the counter. The pants were loose and long. I pulled out the belt Sam had given me and cinched them up and rolled up the legs. I tucked the long shirt into the pants and rolled up the sleeves. I smoothed my hair away from my face and emerged, grabbing the bottle of Jameson and bringing it back to the table. I poured the whiskey in the glass, downing it again in a single drink.

  I looked from Sam to Gage, who seemed to have been struck dumb. They watched me as if in fascination. “Stop looking at me like that,” I said. “It's pissing me off. What next?”

  “Next?” said Gage.

  “Where do we go from here?” I said. I was feeling stronger. The booze seemed to dampen the burning sensation and the food and water had rejuvenated me. Getting dressed seemed to have been the last step to feeling human again. If I was still human. I looked at Sam. “What do we do?”

  Sam took a breath. “Our only priority must be to stop this war.”

  I thought about my godmother, Sofi. About Yuri Polzin, who helped me defeat the Blood and who saved Bobby's life. The former prison guard, Lou Craig, who helped us find Abaddon, and the only person besides Bobby who I trusted to guard Sofi. Lou had a daughter who was an Abby. Was she safe? What about all the children, Abby and Normal? The families who suddenly found themselves in the middle of a battlefield, in a war between angels and demons. “What about the people?” I said. “Are they safe?”

  “I very much doubt it,” said Sam. “But the best thing we can hope for right now is to stop it. Stop the fighting, and the people will be safe.”

  “Do you think it's everywhere?” said Gage. “Or is it just centered around you and Nik?”

  I swallowed hard. It was painful to think that this might be my fault. Mine and Sam's. Despite what he said, I felt the responsibility was mine too. I had chosen to live. Even when I knew it wasn't right.

  “It's odd,” said Sam, “but I'm not sure. I can sense death, as you know. There are no deaths anywhere but here in the city. Not even natural ones. It's as if they've frozen time. But that's impossible.”

  “Why is it impossible?” I said. “Isn't that what you do? You bend time to help people cross over, right?”

  “Yes, that used to be the way of it,” said Sam. “But I am the only one that has that ability, and I can only use it for that purpose. And for anyone else to use it, for any other reason, even the finest of reasons...let's just say it wouldn't end well for the person wielding that power.”

  “But no deaths anywhere but here?” said Gage. “That seems unnatural. People are always dying.”

  “People might be safe then, right?” I said, thinking of Sofi. More than anything right now, I was thankful she was out of town, staying with her niece.

  “Perhaps,” said Sam. But he didn't look so sure.

  A tremor shook the table. I thought at first it was another explosion, but there was no noise. Just a long, slowly-intensifying shiver that made everything vibrate. My head felt as if it were filling with thick gray fog. I blinked and closed my eyes, trying to shake away the feeling. I heard a sound like fabric ripping. Then the fog subsided just as quickly as it had come and Janis was standing in the middle of the room, next to a large man with blond hair. Sam got up from the table and looked at them, expressionless. I stood and looked at the man with yellow hair. His eyes were dark and shifting. Like Sam's. Like mine.

  “Janis?” said Sam, without taking his eyes from the man.

  Janis sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her polyester pants. “I don't only work for you, Samael,” she said in her gravelly voice. She pulled out a cigarette and returned the pack to her pocket. “I have to go where I'm called. You know that.” She tottered over to the bar on her three-inch heels and sat on a stool. I heard the sound of a match being lit.

  “Robert,” said Sam over his shoulder. “Do keep Janis company, will you?”

  “Dammit, Sam,” said Gage. “I'm not your lap dog.”

  “All the same,” said Sam. “This doesn't concern you.”

  “The hell it doesn't,” he said. But he lumbered across the bar all the same and sat next to Janis.

  The blond man was smiling now. “Hello, brother,” he said.

  “Brother?” I said.

  “Camael,” said Sam, with a trace of bitterness. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “You don't seem pleased,” he said. He approached us, looking straight at Sam. He was taller and wider, and wore a strange uniform. It was almost Roman, but with scaled metal pants and sleeves with a leather breastplate covered in symbols that glowed. His face, solemn and unsmiling, was marked with a prominent scar, and the backs of his hands were also covered in scars. “I am pleased to see you, Samael.”

  “I'm sorry, I didn't expect you,” said Sam. “I've had a lot of surprises lately. Did Michael send you?”

  “Let us sit,” said Camael. His eyes landed on me. He arched an eyebrow. “Is this the human?” he said. “The one you risked your precious world to save?”

  “This is Niki,” said Sam, looking uncomfortable.

  Camael frowned. “She doesn't look human.” He stepped toward me and took my chin in hand and turned my head. I grabbed his wrist firmly. It was large in my small hand.

  “I don't care who you are,” I said between gritted teeth. “If you touch me again I will break your wrist.”

  Camael stepped back, surprised. After a moment of staring at me in astonishment, he smiled a thin sm
ile. It didn't look right on his face. “I think I understand, Samael,” he said, looking at me. “She's not like the women in Briah, is she?”

  “No, she is not,” said Sam. “Niki, you will have to excuse my brother's manners. He forgets himself. Often.”

  “How many brothers do you have?” I asked Sam.

  “Six,” he said.

  “Five,” said Camael.

  “Uriel?” said Sam. Camael nodded. “I...knew,” said Sam. “Let's sit. Join us, Niki?”

  Camael sat down in the booth, taking up one side of it. I looked at Sam. “Are you sure you want me here?” I asked quietly. “This seems like family stuff.”

  “I would like you by my side,” he said. “I would appreciate it.”

  “Why did you ask if Michael sent him?” I said. “Does he work for him?”

  “No,” said Sam. He swallowed. “Michael is also my brother.”

  “You could have that mentioned earlier,” I said.

  “I'm sorry,” said Sam. He sat and I joined them.

  “He wants to see you,” said Camael, casting a distasteful look at me. “Both of you.”

  “Michael?” I said. “Does he have my sister?” Camael raised his eyebrows, as if this were a stupid question.

  “If you mean the strange little human child, she is with him,” said Camael. “That is why you are requested. Michael seems to be accommodating her.”

  I looked at Sam. He was studying Camael intently. “Why?” Sam said.

  Camael leaned back. “She seems to be of some use to him. You know Michael. He is always tight-lipped about his real intentions.”

  Sam narrowed his eyes. “And you go along with whatever he tells you to.”

  Camael snorted. “Hardly. But I like a good war. It's been so long since we had anything to fight for. Briah is not the same city, brother.”

  “Briah?” I said.

  “It is the City of Angels,” said Sam, not looking away from his brother. “The Silver City. The City of Heaven.”

  “Heaven has cities?”

  “Just the one,” said Camael.