Christina Henry - Black Night

“Madeline, please. Madeline.”

I’m dreaming you. I need you.

“Madeline.”

Hands on my shoulders, on my face. Warmth like the light of the sun.

I opened my eyes. His face was so close to mine that I could see the stars deep in his black eyes, and as I watched I saw one of them burst and flare and fall away, and I knew that my eyes looked the same.

His breath was on my lips, a whisper away.

“Madeline, what has happened? Why are you sleeping on the stairs?”

His words reminded me of J.B. and Nathaniel only a few feet away inside the apartment. If I gave in to the impulse to kiss Gabriel and Nathaniel found us, Gabriel would be dead before you could say “Jack Robinson.”

I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs, and shifted away from the wall. Slowly I realized that Baraqiel stood a few feet behind Gabriel, watching us with an avid gaze. There was a knowledge in his eyes that I did not like, and I wondered how much of my need for Gabriel had been revealed to the messenger.

“What happened to you guys?” I asked. “You were gone forever.”

“Baraqiel suggested we observe the human investigation for a time to see if they discovered anything. I sensed the death of the wolf was important to you and thought you would be safe enough with Bennett for a short time. Apparently, I was mistaken. What happened?” he repeated.

I told him that Antares had attacked us as I shuffled into the kitchen and filled the teakettle with water. The muscles in Gabriel’s face froze one by one.

“I should not have left you,” he said, and his voice was filled with heat.

I shrugged, not wanting to get into this in front of a witness. Something about Baraqiel told me he was collecting everything he saw and filing it away for later use. I wondered what he would report to Lucifer.

I could hear a murmur of voices from the living room. I couldn’t understand what was being said but Nathaniel’s tone was absurdly deferential, almost as if he were talking to my father. I wondered again what it was about J.B. that made Nathaniel act this way.

“Madeline,” Gabriel said, frowning. “What did Antares do?”

“Oh, the usual,” I said lightly. “Threatened to pull my entrails through my nose. Clawed me up some. J.B. got set on fire.”

“How did you escape? You were completely powerless,” Baraqiel said. He still had a speculative look on his face, like he was trying to decide whether or not it would be worth it to blackmail me over Gabriel.

I shrugged. “My powers came back. For a little while, at least.”

“And now?” Baraqiel persisted.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why are you so interested, anyway?” My tone of voice indicated that I was Azazel’s daughter and he was just a messenger. Sometimes it is an advantage to be royalty in a highly hierarchical society.

His manner immediately became deferential. “I apologize, my lady. I am only concerned for your welfare.”

I wasn’t so certain about that. “Baraqiel, you never did tell us what you were doing when you were waylaid by Samiel.”

He bowed so deeply I thought that he was going to fall over. “Again, my apologies, granddaughter of Lucifer. I was sent by the Lightbringer to deliver a message. I have been astonishingly remiss in that capacity.”

I rolled my hand in his direction, indicating that he should continue.

Baraqiel reached underneath his right arm and pulled out a small piece of parchment that had been rolled and tied to his wing. He presented it to me on his outstretched hand in such a way that I could avoid touching him if I so chose. I wondered if most of Baraqiel’s recipients disdained the touch of a lowly messenger, and my face burned when I thought of how I had spoken to him a moment earlier. I realize it’s the lifetime goal of many little girls, but I don’t really enjoy being a princess.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the parchment from him and unrolling it. I could feel my face growing thunderous as I read Lucifer’s message.

My grandfather is a totally manipulative bastard—big surprise—and it was obvious that he had been holding this task for me in his fist until he felt the time was right.

Trouble was, if I refused Lucifer, he would likely kill Gabriel—or rather, have the Grigori do it for him. And after that, he would probably kill Beezle. And then J.B. And so on, until he had taken everything from me and broken me to his will. That was why he was the first of the fallen, and the lord high devil himself. He knew that emotional pain is a far more powerful motivator than physical pain, and he also knew that I would do anything to keep those I loved safe.

“What is it?” Gabriel asked.

I thrust the parchment at him wordlessly and waited while he read it. His mouth was grim when he finished and handed it back to me.

“Lord Lucifer requires me to wait and bring a response,” Baraqiel said. He inched away from me a little when I looked up at him.

“Don’t,” Gabriel said, his voice full of warning.

I swallowed the “tell Lord Lucifer he can stick this parchment up his ass” that was on my tongue and attempted to modulate my voice. “Tell Lord Lucifer that his granddaughter would be pleased to fulfill this duty for him.”

Baraqiel raised his eyebrow slightly, but he nodded and said, “I must return to my lord immediately with your response.”

“Don’t you want to wash your face first?” I asked. Baraqiel was still covered in the blood that he had shed during his altercation with Samiel.

“I have already been gone too long,” he said, and swept out of the kitchen and down the stairs. It was still full dark outside, which was a good thing, because I don’t know what my neighbors would have made of an angel taking off from my backyard.

I looked at Gabriel, sighed, and then kicked one of the cabinet doors. It made a very satisfying thump.

“That was very childish,” Gabriel said.

“Absolutely,” I replied. “But it feels good.”

I took another deep breath and inspected the damage. There was a crack in the cabinet door. Sometimes I forget that I am stronger now than I used to be.

“Let’s find out what’s going on with J.B.,” I said, and led the way into the living room.

J.B. was propped on a pile of cushions on the sofa, and covered in a blanket. His face was bloodless, his eyes were tired and his hair stuck up in every direction. The ends even looked a little singed. Other than that, he appeared surprisingly hale for someone who had been knocked out.

Nathaniel had pulled a chair from the dining room and sat at his side. His fawning expression gave me the willies.

“How are you feeling?” I asked J.B.

“Like I got shot with magical lightning and crash-landed on hard ground,” he said.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Nathaniel asked.

“No, thank you. You can finish your business with Maddy now,” J.B. said. He looked a little disconcerted by Nathaniel’s solicitous manner.

I gave J.B. what-the-hell-is-up-with-him eyes and J.B. shrugged in response.

“Of course. And if there is anything else that I or the court of Azazel can do for you . . .” he said, standing.

“He’ll let you know,” I said, taking Nathaniel by the arm and tugging him away into the kitchen. I wanted Nathaniel to say whatever it was he had to say and leave so I could talk to J.B. and find out why my fiancé was tripping over himself in J.B.’s presence.

Gabriel stayed in the living room and I heard him talking quietly to J.B. Nathaniel reluctantly allowed himself to be led into the kitchen. Once we were there, I released him immediately. I really don’t like to touch him more than I absolutely must. I leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed my arms.