Black Wings Page 39

“He is absolutely right. Demons do have an unfortunate tendency of repeating themselves,” Gabriel added, straight-faced.

“I gather from your jocular attitudes that neither of you are taking Antares very seriously?” Even though I was loaded with enough energy to clean the house five times over, I could feel that the strength of my magic was still very low. I didn’t think I was up to taking on Antares right now, especially since our last meeting had involved a lot of punching and kicking of my vulnerable human parts.

“The devil here can manage your measly half brother,” Beezle said, jerking a claw in Gabriel’s direction. “The other two will run once Antares has learned his lesson.”

I frowned. “Doesn’t that make it look like I can’t fight my own battles?”

“No,” Gabriel said. “It shows Antares—and, more important, Focalor—that you are not a weak link to be exploited. It shows that Lord Azazel cares enough for you to come to your aid. After tonight, they will think twice about attempting to threaten you simply because you are Azazel’s human daughter.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked as Gabriel strode past me toward the door.

“As the gargoyle says.” Gabriel nodded at Beezle briefly. “Teach Antares a lesson he will not soon forget.”

“I love it when you talk sexy like that,” I said, and then my heart dropped into my stomach. “Wait a second—where the hell is J.B.?”

“Gods above and below,” Beezle swore, launching from my shoulder to fly out the window.

I raced to the door. Gabriel had already disappeared down the stairs ahead of me. I took the stairs two at a time, almost tumbling down in my haste. J.B. drove me crazy, and yes, he thought I was a murderer, but I did not want his death on my conscience. I wanted him alive so I could kick his ass tomorrow for suspending me.

“Please, please, please let him be all right,” I said as I rushed out the open door and onto the front porch. I crashed into Gabriel, who stood stock-still on the peeling red boards, his hands fisted beside him.

I stepped around him and saw Antares in all of his black-horned, red-skinned glory. He held J.B. loosely around the shoulders, almost as if he was showing us that the two of them were pals. But the black sickle claws of Antares’s right hand hovered dangerously close to J.B.’s jugular.

J.B. looked like he wanted to throw up. I was surprised he hadn’t already—the stink of sulfur was overwhelming. I cupped my hand over my nose.

“Let him go, Antares,” I said in the most commanding voice that I could. It wasn’t very commanding since my hand was over my nose. I ended up sounding like I had a cold.

Antares smiled and showed his mouthful of sharp teeth. He pulled J.B. a little closer and stroked one claw down J.B.’s neck. J.B. was pale but to his credit he made no sound.

“But your friend and I are having so much fun,” Antares said. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

“A laugh a minute,” J.B. said, his voice hoarse.

Antares threw his head back and guffawed. “You are quite brave for a man about to have his throat slit.”

I dropped my hand from my face and stepped forward. The little match flame inside me roared to about the size of a candle and then sank back. I had no magic. But Antares didn’t need to know that.

“Let him go,” I said again, this time putting the force of my will behind the command. I saw Antares’s face flicker for a moment—confusion? fear?—then return to a smug expression.

“And what,” Antares said silkily, “will you give me in return, little virgin?”

Antares’s compatriots snorted and leered suggestively at me. The sight of them nauseated me more. Antares looked like a Hollywood stereotype of a demon—the red skin, the bat wings, the black claws and horns. His friends, however, looked more like the Thing in the Carpenter movie. One demon was a mass of loose, rubbery gray flesh that oozed from side to side as it paced—I assumed it paced; I couldn’t see anything resembling feet—behind Antares. Underneath the flesh something moved, like millions of maggots were crawling beneath the demon’s skin.

The second demon had a more humanoid form, but it was squat and grossly fat. Its skin was pale and its eyes were a slitted purple. When it opened its mouth to smile at me, I saw blood caking its teeth.

“How about you give me J.B. and I keep Gabriel here from kicking your ass from here to next Tuesday?” I said sweetly.

Antares had been steadfastly avoiding Gabriel’s gaze up to this point, but now he was forced to acknowledge Gabriel’s silent presence beside me. The angel seemed content to let me handle the talking while he did the menacing bodyguard thing.

My demon half brother said nothing for a moment, clearly unsure how to proceed. If he handed over J.B., he might not be humiliated in front of his little buddies. If he didn’t hand over J.B., he would definitely be humiliated in front of his little buddies. He apparently decided to continue the show for his audience.

“I do not fear Azazel’s thrall. He cannot lay a finger on me without endangering his own life or the life of his master,” Antares sneered.

I wondered if that was true. Gabriel had said that my father had sworn an oath in order to save Gabriel’s life, an oath that said Azazel would keep Gabriel from becoming a monster like his father. But did that mean that Gabriel couldn’t physically defend himself from another demon? I didn’t want to appear uncertain or ignorant, so I mustered up my own bravado to match Antares’s.

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