Christina Henry - Black Lament

“Madeline!” Nathaniel cried. I heard him coming down the steps, coming to help me.

NO, said the darkness.

A tentacle flew out of the shadows again and seized Nathaniel. I heard his cry of rage, but I couldn’t focus on him. I could see only the Bad Man coming for me. He swung out his hook, trying to snag me with one hand while slashing with the other. His burned face was set in a contorted grimace of delight, his small blue eyes cruel under the hood of ruined flesh.

I swiped at his legs with the sword but he leapt aside with surprising agility for a man with a limp. I stumbled backward, caught my heel on the edge of the steps and fell to the ground. My sword flew from my hand.

He was on me in an instant, his knife coming for my throat. I caught his wrists as he fell on top of me, the stink of his blood-scented breath making me gag. He was strong, much stronger than an ordinary human, but so was I. The angelic blood that ran inside me made me just a little stronger, a littler faster. I held him off me, though I was blinded by tears, certain the fate I had always feared as a child had come for me.

For a second, for just the tiniest moment, I thought, If he kills me, I can be with Gabriel. At that thought, the child that was so small inside of me that it was barely a speck of light beat its little wings in distress.

And suddenly my fear was gone. It wasn’t bravado for the Grimm, but the true disappearance of terror.

“No,” I said, and fire ignited in my blood.

The place where I held the Bad Man’s wrists smoked. His eyes widened, uncertain. Then he screamed in pain as I pushed magic through my hands and into his skin.

He fell off me, rolling onto the sidewalk, his body lit from within by fire. Smoke poured in a dark cloud as he howled.

I stood on legs that trembled no more and faced the dark.

“I am not afraid of you.”

The night seemed to pause, to take my measure one last time. Then it released me.

ANOTHER TIME, AGENT.

And the cloak of darkness suddenly lifted.

NATHANIEL AND SAMIEL TUMBLED OUT OF THE SHADOWS, almost as if they had been thrown by gigantic tentacles.

“Samiel. Thank the Morningstar,” I said, rushing to him. I patted him all over, looking for injuries.

He shook his head, signed, Nothing hurt but my pride.

“What did it do to you?” I asked.

“Simply held us immobile so that we could not assist you,” Nathaniel said. He seemed to be gathering the ragged remains of his dignity around him. It probably stung his pride to be dispatched so easily, and so soon after he’d declared he would protect me.

The regular sights and sounds of nighttime seeped back in. I heard cars driving too fast on Addison, the hydraulic lift and lower of a bus pulling to the curb, the jangle of a dog on a leash farther down the block.

I looked at the smoking husk of the Bad Man in alarm. “We’ve got to move that thing before somebody sees. I don’t even want to think about what J.B. will say if he intercepts a nine-one-one call about another dead body on my property.”

I’ll do it, Samiel signed. He lifted the body by its shoulders, wrinkling his nose.

“I know. It smells horrible,” I said apologetically. My own nose was kind of overloaded with the stench and had reached a state of shock.

He looked at me questioningly and I understood what he was asking.

“The shed?” I said helplessly.

“Kind of an obvious place to hide a body,” Beezle said, flying down to my shoulder.

“I see you’ve cleaned up since dinner,” I replied. “Last time, we put the body in the basement and covered it with a tarp and you didn’t approve of that, either.”

“One of these days J.B. isn’t going to intercept a call in time and the cops are going to come sniffing around here,” Beezle said.

“You act like I’m a serial killer trying to hide evidence of my crimes. May I remind you that these monsters that show up at the door are trying to kill me and that I am just defending my life?”

“And is that what you plan on telling the nice detective before he drags you off to the sanitarium?”

“You’ve been watching too many old movies. Besides, do you really think that Lucifer is going to let me get captured by the human authorities?”

“Then why so concerned about the body?” Beezle asked.

“Can’t we just try to act normal for the sake of the neighbors? I already get enough weird looks as it is.”

“Perhaps the two of you would stop bickering long enough to address the problem at hand,” Nathaniel said loudly.

I gave him a bland stare. “This is how we address problems around here, angel-boy.”

He visibly bristled at the “angel-boy,” but his voice was clipped and controlled when he spoke.

“Then why is it neither of you have bothered to ask why the Grimm was here, and why it appeared to be targeting Madeline?”

“You said it’s a creature of Faerie, right? So I’ll just ask J.B. what he knows,” I said, shrugging.

“Duh,” Beezle added.

“And since I get targeted by something new and freaky every other day, it’s hardly notable.” I sighed. It was really sad that the appearance of a creature that had apparently not been seen for hundreds of years was just another footnote in my life.

“Are you going to call J.B. now?” Beezle asked as Samiel rejoined us.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to wake him up. He’s grumpy when he’s tired,” I said.

I wasn’t sure of the exact time, since I’d fallen asleep on the kitchen floor and woken up in the darkness, but the city had that settling-down feeling. It seemed most people were either in bed or behind locked doors for the night. Anyone who was still out at this time was either young, stupid or dangerous. I felt a trace of uneasiness, but put it down to the lingering effects of the Grimm’s influence. The tattoo on my right palm gave me a nudge, like the comforting touch of a dog’s muzzle.

I was abruptly aware of the deep cold and the fact that I was underdressed, as usual.

“Let’s go in,” I said.

Samiel and Beezle headed for the door. Nathaniel looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

I blew out a breath. I still had to deal with Nathaniel.

Samiel stopped at the top step and turned back to look at me expectantly.

“It’s all right; you guys go ahead,” I said, waving them inside.

Beezle landed on Samiel’s shoulder. “Get me inside before my wings fall off.”

“Let’s stand in the foyer,” I said to Nathaniel. “I’m cold.”

Samiel and Beezle disappeared into Samiel’s apartment. Nathaniel silently followed me into the small space between the outer door and the two inner apartment doors, which he could enter only because I’d invited him to do so.

A small safety light burned over the mailboxes built into the wall. In its glare I could see the dark circles under Nathaniel’s eyes, the blond stubble on his cheeks. The ends of his hair looked choppy, and his white button-down shirt, normally pristine, was actually dirty. All in all, he looked uncharacteristically raggedy.

But I guess that’s what happens when you help foment a rebellion against your highest lord. I imagined Nathaniel hadn’t had much time for manicures or trips to the dry cleaner’s while he was groveling to Lucifer.

“Listen,” I said to him without preamble. “You can’t stay here. You can’t sleep on the porch like a homeless person.”

“Lord Lucifer has charged me—” Nathaniel began, but I cut him off.

“Do we really have to have this conversation all over again?” I said, annoyed. “I know what Lucifer told you to do. I’m telling you that I don’t need a freaking bodyguard.”

“With all of the attacks you say you have suffered, would not it be wise to at least have someone around who can assist you?”