At least it answered the question as to what bone we were looking for.
“Seems you were right,” Katon told me, his voice subdued.
I turned and caught his eyes. “Yeah, give me a second to pat myself on the back.”
Though it was somewhat vindicating to realize I had been on the right track, my conscience didn’t need any more ghosts. Unsure of the specifics of Lilith’s connection until we’d found Eve, I hadn’t thought to warn Abraham, believing her body was safe where it lay. It never crossed my mind someone would come to DRAC looking for her. I hadn’t expected people to die, but they had. I could have done something to stop it from happening.
Katon set his hand on my shoulder, apparently reading my mind. “This isn’t your fault.” I started to argue and he gave me a gentle shake. “Even if we had known what the Nephilim had planned, Lilith’s presence here was supposed to be a secret. No one should have known where she was.”
Our eyes met as I realized what he was getting at. “Great. So on top of everything else we’ve got going on, you think there’s a rat inside DRAC, feeding the half-breeds information?” I started to pace. “So where does that leave us?”
“The same place we were before we arrived here.” He gestured to Lilith. “We know the key requires the bones of the three original residents of Eden. We have one and the Nephilim have one, so we’re still in the running. Now all we need to do is find out where Adam is entombed and retrieve the last of them. Once we have that, it won’t be long before the Nephilim come to us.”
Buried beneath all the black leather and spikes, the mean looks and bad attitude, Katon was an optimist. “Yeah, Adam’s grave has been hidden away for some four thousand plus years and we’re just gonna stumble across it after a few minutes of looking?” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re telling me you don’t know anyone who was alive back then who could point you in the right direction?”
“Normally there’d be Baalth, but he’s incommunicado, and Forcalor is in Heaven, out of reach obviously. Plus, I’m already up to my ass in favors to Asmoday and I don’t have anything else to trade that doesn’t involve me grabbing my ankles. So, no, all my sources are…” A thought came into my head, warm and sticky. “Hmm, maybe I do have someone I can ask.”
Before I could elaborate, Rachelle burst into the room, her narrow face flush. Her normally flighty demeanor was replaced by one of cold urgency. “There’s another storm coming.”
My stomach sank at the news, remembering Asmoday’s warning that they would only get worse. I hurried after her as she fled the room, Katon right behind me. There wasn’t anything we could do but pick up the pieces, and I didn’t really want to think about it.
Like a Kansas trailer park during tornado season, I was going along for the ride.
Chapter Nine
Rachelle plopped us into a downtown alley near the edge of the storm, just as the thick white clouds began to form. Purple flashes of lightning crackled to life overhead as the roiling mass washed over the sky like torrential waves. In just seconds, they filled the horizon with light, the ashen snow drifting down, the air still.
Scarlett winced and bit her lip as the storm’s spiritual decay washed over us. She stood strong this time. Michael stumbled and nearly fell as his psychic sensibilities fell under siege. Katon steadied him.
“Take this and go back with Rachelle,” I told Mike as I handed him Eve’s bone. I quickly explained what I wanted Rachelle to do with it, then shoved him toward the portal.
Grateful, with only a hint of guilt on his pained face, he leapt inside the glowing tear. Rachelle sealed the portal behind him, her eyes downcast as she disappeared. The muffled crack of preternatural thunder drew my attention back to the storm.
I’d hoped we’d be able to rescue people before things got too bad, but the fall had already become a blizzard, downtown a whitewash of murderous snow. We moved out onto the street, a morbid magnetism drawing us closer to the edge. The acrid scent of decay, a lifetime of rot compressed into a single moment, burned my lungs and settled bitter on my tongue.
Though it was Saturday, the traffic downtown was only slightly less than it would have been during the hectic week. People milled about in the kill-zone, looking up in awe at the falling snow, a rarity in the desert climate. Their amused smiles and cheerful banter turned to terror as the first of the flakes settled over them. Screams erupted as death gnawed at their flesh. Panic set in.
Though I knew there was nothing I could do, my conscience screamed at me to act. Unable to go to them, I called them to me. It was little more than nothing, but it was all I had to offer.
“Come this way. Hurry!” My voice cracked with the force of my words as I waved them on.
Katon and Scarlett joined in as those nearest the edge bolted in our direction. Those in vehicles whose metal roofs sheltered them just long enough, made it out, the smell of burning rubber mixing with the harsh air. Those just a little further back were caught in the chaos. Cars slammed into one another as the fall ate its way inside. Many scrambled free only to meet their fate under the wheels of their fellow victims or at the hands of the relentless storm, no mercy shown by either.
The people on foot had it the worst. Instinct driving them to cover, they huddled in doorways and under flimsy awnings. They clutched to their wounds as they stared wide-eyed toward the sky. Death delayed but a moment, those who couldn’t make it inside fell beneath the white ash, their screams seared from their mouths as their bodies disintegrated into ash.
The few who made it out of the storm, after the snow had struck, were no better than those who’d fallen beneath it. Scored, blackened rot festering in bloodless wounds, they lay screaming in the streets, agony in their every movement as they were eaten away. Shock settled in for many, thankfully numbing their last few moments.
We helped all we could, pulling them free in a pitiful attempt, but death would not be denied.
Above us, the buildings that towered over downtown were gnawed away. Floor by floor they disappeared under the drift of white, dust and smoke heralding their destruction. As the snow built up, the buildings came down faster, their supports collapsing beneath them. To a background of purple flashes, they fell from the horizon, dust and debris adding to the chaos and death in the streets.
My stomach a mass of churning acid, I turned away and stumbled back into the alley, eyes on the ground. I couldn’t watch it any more. Gasping for clean air, I made my way toward the back of the alley when my senses suddenly lit fire. I whipped my gun out and looked up to see a black mass gathering before me.
My heart stuttered a beat, and then slowed as the darkness coalesced, its form becoming humanoid. As the figure took shape, adrenaline sparked a wildfire and my heart thundered back to life.
Before me hovered Azrael-the Angel of Death, better known as the Grim Reaper.
Unlike the rest of the archangels, Azrael lurked behind the scenes, out of sight. Save for rare exceptions, were you to see him, he would be the last person you ever saw. He was the death of the party.
Dressed in the stereotypical flowing black robes, he floated a foot above the ground, a swirling abyss of obsidian roiling beneath his feet. His pale hands were crossed before him and he stared at me through crimson eyes, literal flames flickering in the deep sockets. His face was gaunt, skeletal features pressed tight against paper thin flesh.
“Greetings, Triggaltheron,” his voice drifted to me, the smell of the morgue.
Stunned he knew who I was, I didn’t immediately realize he’d used my given name. “Here for the show?”
He glanced up at the storm a moment, then back to me, his narrow lips set in a grim line. “Though it does make for a pleasant view, I’m here to pass on a warning. Leave the affairs of The Kingdom to the denizens of Heaven. End your search for Cain’s key and do not join the war. It is not your concern.”