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Lucifer’s Shadow: Tales of Fallen Angels Angels, edited by Philippe Boulle THE VICTORIAN AGE VAMPIRE TRILOGY Vampire: A Morbid Initiation by Philippe Boulle Vampire: The Madness of Priests by Philippe Boulle Vampire: The Wounded King by Philippe Boulle THE DARK AGES CLAN NOVEL SERIES Dark Ages: Nosferatu by Gherbod Fleming Dark Ages: Assamite by Stefan Petrucha Dark Ages: Cappadocian by Andrew Bates Dark Ages: Setite by Kathleen Ryan Dark Ages: Lasombra by David Niall Wilson THE WEREWOLF TRIBE NOVEL SERIES Tribe Novels: Shadow Lords & Get of Fenris by Gherbod Fleming & Eric Griffin Greg Stolze Tribe Novels: Silent Striders & Black Furies by Carl Bowen & Gherbod Fleming Book One of the Trilogy of the Fallen Tribe Novels: Red Talons & Fianna by Philippe Boulle & Eric Griffin Tribe Novels: Bone Gnawers & Stargazers by Justin Achilli & Bill Bridges Tribe Novels: Children of Gaia & Uktena by Richard Lee Byers & Stefan Petrucha Tribe Novels: Silver Fangs & Glass Walkers by Carl Bowen & Tim Dedopulos Tribe Novels: Black Spiral Dancers & Wendigo by Eric Griffin & Bill Bridges FOR ALL THESE TITLES AND MORE, VISIT WWW.WHITE-WOLF.COM/FICTION 3 2 Cover art by Steve Ellis. 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Stolze, 1939-1988 Shadow, Trilogy of the Fallen, Ashes and Angel Wings, The Seven Deadlies, Victorian Age Vampire, A Morbid Initiation, The Madness of Priests, The Wounded King, Dark Ages Nosferatu, Dark Ages Assamite, One fatal Tree there stands of Knowledge call’d, Dark Ages Cappadocian, Dark Ages Setite, Dark Ages Lasombra, Tribe Novels Shadow Lords & Get of Fenris, Tribe Novels Black Furies & Forbidden them to taste Silent Striders, Tribe Novels Red Talons & Fianna, Tribe Novels Bone —Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IV Gnawers & Stargazers, Tribe Novels Children of Gaia & Uktena, Tribe Novels Silver Fangs & Glass Walkers, and Tribe Novels Black Spiral Dancers & Wendigo are trademarks of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. ISBN 1-58846-805-4 First Edition: March 2003 Printed in Canada White Wolf Publishing 1554 Litton Drive Stone Mountain, GA 30083 www.white-wolf.com/fiction 5 4 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND ASHES STOLZE perform them. He had possessed a body, he’d had friends, and he’d known love. Now he had nothing. Not even pain or hope. For all AND Hasmed knew, the world was as lost, as broken, as GREG annihilated as himself. After grieving, Hasmed despaired. He wondered if ANGEL PROLOGUE this void, this torment, was what the Maker of All had felt before Creation. Surely no other suffering could lead a perfect being to create a flawed world. But the madden- WINGS ing silence—silence that was not merely the loss of sound, but its impossibility—surely that, and the dark beyond darkness, and the crushing, numbing terror of being all there was, of being a universe unto oneself… that could drive even an infinite entity mad. And for an infinite entity, any madness would be infinite as well. These fears filled Hasmed’s mind, which was all that remained of him. The cosmos was doomed from the start. All of it—the glory, the corruption, the hope, the horror, the pride of defiance and the brutality of War on In the darkness, there was a mind. Earth as in Heaven—all had been preordained. The The mind was alone in the darkness, because the ending was cut in stone before the first word was breathed. darkness was, itself, almost perfect loneliness. The mind Hasmed was mired in this despair when he heard the had no body. It had no eyes with which to see that there voice. was nothing around it to see. It had no mouth to scream The voice was one he knew, one from the world. In and no hands to claw pointlessly for release. ages past (or perhaps, only moments), that voice had It was thought and memory, alone, without even the belonged to Vodantu, a being like Hasmed. Like Hasmed, distraction of physical agony. Vodantu had been condemned. Like Hasmed, Vodantu Time was meaningless in the darkness. For the first was trapped in a private nullity. But unlike Hasmed, span of time, the mind raged against its imprisonment. Vodantu was still strong enough to communicate. It did not know how long it raged. It could have been five Beings of their type—once called Elohim—had been minutes. It could have been five thousand years. the rulers of Creation, and their essence was infused in After its rage was exhausted, the mind grieved. Once every far corner of the cosmos. Even the void in which it had lived in a world of sunshine and apples and bright- they were confined touched upon something other than colored birds. Fish had darted, trees had grown, clouds itself, some space that was not nothing. Even though had carved poetry in skies lit by sunrise. The mind had they were fallen, some were strong enough to shake their been named Hasmed. He had served with honor and cages with thought alone, sending vibrations of their will distinction; he had loved his duties and rejoiced to 7 6 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES I DO NOT ASK YOUR OPINION, HASMED. I COMPEL YOUR coursing out to make faint, reedy contact with their fellows. OBEDIENCE. HASMED, said Vodantu’s voice. ATTEND. Send someone else. Send Joriel. Send Rabbadün. Send someone who still cares enough about the world to Hasmed ignored it. AND GREG I HAVE NEED OF YOU, HASMED. I HAVE A TASK. destroy it. THEY ARE SENT, AND NOW YOU ARE SENT AS WELL. Still, the imprisoned Elohim did not reply. ANGEL Then Vodantu spoke the true language of reality, Hasmed fought, but against the call of his own true and Hasmed could not ignore it—for the word Vodantu nature, he could not win. Silently screaming, damned spoke was Hasmed himself, written on the book of Hasmed was torn from his lightless prison and flung existence. Vodantu knew Hasmed’s True Name, and by once more into the storm of existence. WINGS this Hasmed was compelled. What would you have of me? Hasmed sullenly asked. THE WALLS OF OUR ISOLATION ARE CRACKING, Vodantu replied. ALREADY SOME OF OUR LESSER FELLOWS SLIP THROUGH AND RETURN TO THE PHYSICAL REALM. AND YOU THINK I COULD ESCAPE AS WELL? Though once mighty, I know you were greatly re- duced in the War. You might escape. I bid you try. To what end? Our cause was doomed when the world was young. Now the cosmos is surely aged and decayed, broken by the curse of The Ancient of Days. What can we gain by escape? ASK NOT WHAT WE CAN GAIN, BUT WHAT WE CAN LOSE, Vodantu replied. BY WORKING OUR WILL ON THE WORLD OF MEN, WE CAN HASTEN THE WORLD’S DEMISE. IS THAT NOT WHAT CURSED AHRIMAL FORESAW SO LONG AGO? AND WITH THE WORLD DESTROYED, WHAT CAN KEEP US SEALED? WITH- OUT A BOUNDARY OF EXISTENCE, OUR REALM OF VOID COLLAPSES. WITH EVEN THE VOID DESTROYED, WITH NO PLACE TO HOLD US, NO FIELD IN WHICH WE CAN BE CONTAINED, SURELY THE CURSE OF OUR CONSCIOUSNESS WILL FALL AS WELL. WHEN CREATION IS ANNULLED, WE WILL BE ANNULLED AS WELL. WE CAN FINALLY CEASE TO EXIST. WE CAN FINALLY BE FREE OF THE BURDEN OF OURSELVES. I don’t believe it. The Allmaker is too spiteful. The One Above would find some way to torture us still, even past the end of the world. 9 8 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE REG STOLZE AND I STOLZE ASHES ASHES chapter PART AND AND GREG ANGEL ANGEL one 1 WINGS WINGS Mikey Diamond had a headache. If it was a normal headache, Mikey would have taken a couple aspirin, maybe a shot of whiskey—done, no prob- lem. But this wasn’t a normal headache. He’d had them before, and he’d discreetly asked a doctor about them. The doctor said they sounded like classic migraines, and he prescribed a drug called Cafergot. Sometimes the Cafergot worked; sometimes it didn’t. Today, it didn’t. Today, Mikey Diamond had gotten the funny feeling that something was wrong when his vision started to gray out. This was common for migraines—the doctor called it a “visual aura.” Pressure built up on the optic nerve, causing a growing patch of his eyesight to simply disap- pear. The visual aura was, in Mikey’s opinion, pretty goddamn creepy. It didn’t black out like you’d think it would, the missing space just kind of got ignored. Like his mind wallpapered over it or swept it under a rug. It could take him a while to notice that something was wrong, that there was a place where, if he looked at things… those things weren’t there. It was never dead center, never what he was looking at. It was stuff around the edges. If he was reading a paper, the ads on the side would vanish. Driving along the street, he’d suddenly have no rearview mirror. But then he’d look—actually turn his eyes and face to 11 10 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES look—and the mirror or the ad or his own hand would be it was. Next there was serious pain—pain where you’re there, right where it was supposed to be. actually afraid you’re going to die. The pool cue, the The doctor had tried to explain it. He’d said that nightstick—those were the real deal. everyone always has a blind spot. It’s natural—the place Only migraines were level three. The level where you’re AND GREG terrified that you’re not going to die, that you’re somehow where the optic nerve connects to the eyeball or to the brain or something. So your brain had wiring in place to going to live on and on for years, suffering and miserable, ANGEL just ignore little holes in what you see. Or, in the case of unable to think, but somehow not dying. Migraines were the a migraine aura, big holes. reason he kept his guns locked up and the reason he kept a The aura would come and get bigger until he couldn’t syringe and some fine brown heroin hidden under the gun miss it anymore—until his legs were vanishing unless he cabinet. WINGS looked down, or until everything on his right side was Most people just take a sick day and head home when simply unseeable—and then it would fade out. their vision fails and they’re suffering enough that suicide That was pretty unpleasant. seems perfectly reasonable. Most people work traditional In fact, the first time Mikey ever got a migraine, when jobs, but not Mikey Diamond. His job had no sick days, no he was in grade school, he’d been so upset by the aura that paid vacation, no dental plan. On the plus side, he didn’t the school nurse sent him home—even though there didn’t have to deal with FICA or Social Security taxes either. seem to be anything wrong with him. Young Mikey had Mikey was a gangster—a made man, a mobster—and he been truly terrified. He’d thought he was going blind. didn’t think the guys in his crew would have much sympa- When his sight came back, it was a huge relief. He even thy if he slacked his duties because of a headache. believed the headache afterward was just stress from wor- Rather than pick up a nickname like “Mikey Head- rying about his vision. ache” or “Migraine Mike,” he kept his condition to himself. That first headache hadn’t been so bad. It had never really gotten in the way. He only had one Now, at age twenty-nine, the headaches were really migraine a year, generally. They were infrequent. Really, fucking bad. They got bad enough to make him cry, then he was lucky. But on the days they came, he never felt lucky. got worse until he couldn’t cry. They started out painful The day Mikey Diamond got his last migraine ever, he and got worse. They became so agonizing that he’d think was on the job. It wasn’t even supposed to be a very difficult it was the worst pain he’d ever experienced. Then it got job. He’d spent the morning and early afternoon rum- worse again until he remembered the last migraine, which bling deadbeats. Now he had to find Harvey Ciullo and had been just as bad. request that Mr. Ciullo pay up the cash he owed Dennis In the course of his life, Mikey Diamond had once Porter. When Harv couldn’t do it (and Diamond was sure been hit on the back of the head with a pool cue. It had sent he couldn’t—he knew Harvey), Mikey would request the a feeling like an electric shock all the way down his body vig. When Harv started in with his lame excuses about why and into his toes, it had nearly knocked him clean out, but he couldn’t even meet the vigorish (that is, the interest on it hadn’t been this bad. On one memorable occasion, the loan he’d taken out to cover his gambling debts), he’d been hit in the crotch with a police officer’s night- Mikey would probably have to hurt him some. Nothing permanent yet. After all, there was still a chance, that with stick. He’d puked that time, and he’d gone along quietly, and he’d been hospitalized when his right nut swelled up his knees and thumbs intact, he might be able to make to the size of a small apple. Nonetheless, it hadn’t hurt as Dennis’s money back—or, at least, keep up his vig pay- bad as a migraine. ments. Migraines had taught Mikey that there were three Mikey Diamond wasn’t optimistic. Privately, he was levels of pain. The first level was just pain—everything hoping Harvey would give him the slip so that he could do from a paper cut to a sock in the jaw. No fun, but just what a half-assed search then go home and hit the icepack. 13 12 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES As he parked in front of Ed’s Tap—Harvey’s home away “Oh, I remember, Mikey. I couldn’t forget! I wouldn’t, from home—Mikey’s vision cleared. He was just entering wouldn’t do that to you guys. But here’s the thing…” the second stage of pain. “The thing.” Naturally, Harvey was there. Didn’t even have the “The thing is… I ain’t got it.” AND GREG sense to hide. Mikey sighed and asked him to come along “Yeah, well, I’m not surprised.” for a drive and a talk. Everyone else in Ed’s got real quiet. Harvey paused. In the silence, Diamond thought he ANGEL Harv stammered and stuttered and tried to weasel out, but could feel his skull creaking. He reached up under his Mikey was good at his job, and he got Harvey into the car. sunglasses to wipe away a tear. He really did not need this. “So, Mikey, eh… How’s it going, huh?” “Uh…” Even when he didn’t have a headache, dealing with “I mean, that Series bet was just fuckin’ stupid, you WINGS Ciullo could give him one. It was a nearly unanimous know?” opinion in the circles Harvey moved through that he was The landscape was artificial ugly. Huge pipes and just about freakin’ worthless. He had a body like a potato— tubes, rusty metal walls and broken-in windows. The round, lumpy and gray. He had a face like a potato’s ground was dust. Every plant but the most stupid-stub- eye—ugly and discolored. It somehow looked like it had born weeds had given up. been pushed out of his neck unwillingly. His eyes had “I thought they were due.” watery brown pupils, centered in an eggy white, where “An’ I asked myself. I said, ‘Mikey,’ I said, ‘is a guy bloodshot pink and sickly pale yellow fought to be the stupid enough to make that bet going to be smart enough secondary tone. His unruly thatch of brown hair was shot to make a lot of money fast?’ An’ you know what, Harvey?” through with the gray of a dirty scouring pad, as were the They’d pulled up by a chained-up fence, but the hasp on wires of beard stubble that sprang from the fold between the padlock hadn’t been pushed in all the way. Mikey knew his first and second chin. He was wearing a cheap brown this. suit and a green and blue tie. There was food on the tie. It “What, Mikey?” was an improvement. “The answer was obviously no. Get outta the car and His voice was like his face: something you’d rather not open the gate, a’right?” have in your car. It was low, dopey and nasal, and when he Harvey obeyed. Mike Diamond got out behind him pronounced sounds like ch or sh, there was a phlegmy and pointed. They walked. gurgling that made you think of your last bad cold. Even “Look, Mikey…” worse, when he whined—which was often—it rose in pitch “It’s not a big deal, Harv.” and warbled. “Eh?” “Could you fuckin’ listen? What did I just fuckin’ “Look, Mikey, I know what this is about,” Harvey said. say?” “Really, I do.” “That’s good, Harv. That saves me time. So, should we “That it’s… it’s not a big deal.” just swing by your house and get it?” “What do you think that means?” “Get…?” Harvey’s oily eyes darted back and forth. Even with eyes “The money. You know, the money you owe? You blurred by pain, Mike could read him like a book. Harvey remember that money, right?” The pain was waltzing had large-type expressions. Harvey’s brain was stuck— through stage two at a good clip, and Mikey was driving stuck between Mikey telling him the money was no big deal Harvey out of town to an abandoned fuel refinery next to and his dead-certain knowledge that owing money to a sewage treatment center. Dennis Porter and his friends was a very big deal indeed. “I don’ know, Mikey.” “Jesus Christ. Get on your knees.” 15 14 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Mikey, I—” “Mikey, please, you gotta listen, you could… you could Out came Mikey’s gun, which was (for today’s job) a tell ’em you couldn’t find—” small Beretta semi-automatic. A little bigger than a good Mikey pulled the trigger. wallet. Harvey knelt. He didn’t even think about it. He didn’t mean to do it, AND GREG “Mikey, please, dear God, please, Mikey…” not really. It was like his finger did it all by itself. If he’d The sun was starting to set. It was absolutely beautiful. thought about it, he’d have considered how many people ANGEL “Let’s talk vig, Harvey.” saw him leave with Harvey, how much evidence there was “Oh Jesus, Mikey, you can’t, you gotta, I mean, come pointing to him. Mikey Diamond had done hits before on…” and you didn’t do ’em like this. You did ’em clean and “The vig, Harvey. The vigorish on your bet. You got smart. He’d brought Harvey out here to put a scare in him, WINGS that, right?” but he just got fed up. “Please, Mikey. I’m, I’m beggin’ you. I’m beggin’ and The gunshot was painfully loud to his headache-tight- praying. I’m praying to you, Mikey. Please, don’t kill me, ened ears. please don’t, I got, I got a little girl, Mikey, I got a…” Harvey dropped with a hole right in the middle of his The third stage of pain had begun, and Mikey was forehead, a meaty tunnel boring down through his brain. seriously considering putting the gun in his own mouth. With a wet sound, one of his eyes loosened and dangled a He was also nauseated. It wasn’t Harvey’s groveling—if he couple millimeters out of its socket. hadn’t had the migraine, Diamond probably would have There was no exit wound. been laughing out loud—it was the feeling of pressure in He dropped. “Ah shit,” Mikey groaned as he went to try to throw up. his head, spreading through his whole body. His last migraine had brought nausea too. It had snuck up on him in the middle of the night, and he’d wound up crouched A storm raged in the dim depths outside space. It raged over the toilet, trying, really trying to puke. But he hadn’t through the world of the dead and the forgotten, scream- been able to. He’d known it wouldn’t help, but he’d winds slithering through the ghosts of torn-down hoped it might help, so he’d tried it. buildings, shaking the leaves of burned trees, rending the Now he felt like puking again. souls of dead children. It was a wind of woe and a rain of “Harvey, you cunt. Shut up and answer the question.” regret. “Mikey, you, you can’t do this. You’re a good Catho- When he squeezed and pushed and broke free of his lic, right? I seen you, coming out of church on Sunday. confinement, the storm was what Hasmed found. He was You can’t just go and, and whack a guy over a little money? buffeted and shaken, torn and tortured, but at least he was I mean, a little money. You probably go through money something. like this in a weekend. You could save my life with just this Ages before, Hasmed had been a protector. His duties little, tiny piece of money, save me and my daughter.” had given him an instinct for fear, and that instinct was “Harvey, you ain’t got a daughter.” still strong. Even warped by his battles and imprisonment, “No one knows about her…. Shit, up until last year I he could still hear the call of a soul gripped by terror. didn’t know about her. But, ah Christ, Mikey, she’s an Driven by some strange new urge, he fought toward the angel, a fuckin’ angel and her mama died. It’s horrible; fear. it’s a fuckin’ tragedy. I’m all she’s—” In the dim of the deadspace, Hasmed could vaguely “And you can’t make the vig. Right?” Mike pointed the perceive two men. One was hardly visible at all—just a gun. Harvey pressed his hands together. suggestion of form, standing, pointing some object at the other. Hasmed suspected the object was a weapon, because 17 16 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES it was much easier to see than the man himself. The other bullet. When he couldn’t reach it, he hooked the finger man was much clearer, brightened and clarified by the and thumb behind his eyelid, pushing the eye aside to fright that filled him. grope in the socket. There was a sudden, blinding flash—a crack of daylight When he pulled out the bloody shell, he sat up and AND GREG in the night world’s rainy murk—and Hasmed plunged began trying to put Harvey’s wrecked head back together. toward the opening, toward the physical, toward the real. He was about halfway done when he spotted Mikey. ANGEL He could see the fearful man topple backward, and he Diamond finally noticed something when Harvey’s could see the man’s soul. It was a small, weak soul, but it body lurched to its feet. He was crouching, trying fruit- was fighting fiercely. The weapon was killing him—some- lessly to throw up, wishing he had more Cafergot (or his how scrambling the brain in which the mind lived—but the heroin needle) when he heard the sounds of movement WINGS soul was fighting, trying to stay alive, trying to stay coher- behind him. ent. It was fighting for this more than it had ever fought He turned, not really expecting anything. Maybe Harv for anything, but it was losing. was still twitching. You got that sometimes with headers. The soul reached out in that moment, desperate for He didn’t expect to see Harvey shambling toward him, anything that would help it live. looking unusually focused for a dead man. It found something just as desperate and battered. It Disbelieving, Mikey raised the gun to shoot again, but found Hasmed. Harvey lunged forward and grabbed his hand—grabbed it For a moment, the two spirits—one from the world with more strength than he’d expected from Ciullo, even and one from beyond it—were fully exposed to each other. alive. “Tina!” the mortal soul shrieked. “Tina! Help her! What he expected even less was for the dead man to bite Help Tina! Help Tina!” through his wrist. Then Harvey Ciullo was gone, a lost signal, a pattern Mikey wasn’t screaming—his migraine had built to the shattered. But Hasmed had climbed through him into the point where it could eclipse even a severed hand—but he physical world. did raise the stump and stare at it dumbly before Harvey punched him in the gut. Mikey was solid, but this was a hell of a slug, and he bent Mikey Diamond had turned his back on Harvey, so he forward, just as Hasmed had expected. It had been centu- didn’t see the bullet-holed body sit up. ries since Hasmed fought, but old habits die hard, even in As for Hasmed, he was pretty confused. Going from a body without trained reflexes or much muscle. Hasmed the infinite quiet of annihilation to a New Jersey sunset grabbed Mikey’s head by the chin and the base of the skull, within the span of a few minutes was enough of a shock. stomped on the back corner of Mikey’s knee to drop him Showing up in a body with a hole in its face was another forward onto the ground, then put his hips and shoulders problem. But the worst was probably the scrambled brain. into a hard twisting movement until Diamond’s neck Mikey had shot Harvey with a small-caliber round. It broke. had entered his brainpan, but it had lacked the force to Hasmed dropped him into the dust. The sunset was exit again, so it had ricocheted inside until it hit a weak purple, turning to charcoal gray. He felt surprisingly spot—the thin plate between Harvey’s brain and his si- good. He’d enjoyed killing Mikey. It was good to have nuses. Cracking the sinus had released the pressure that hands once more, to have a body and senses. kept his left eye in place. The slug had entered his nasal As the dark thickened, he wiped his face on his jacket passage and stuck there. then flung the garment to the ground. The buzz of leftover Hasmed’s first act upon returning to the physical thoughts and memories in Harvey’s brain was thick and realm was to put a finger in his nose and search for the 19 18 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES confusing, but there was one thought, one image that spun out by Harvey’s rabbity nerves were considered by dominated. Hasmed’s chill reason. It was a little girl with brown eyes and thick, blond, First, Mikey Diamond. The major pieces of evidence ringlet hair. included Harvey’s bloodied jacket, Diamond’s body, AND GREG Tina. Diamond’s car and the witnesses at the bar. The body and jacket were in a distant, obscure place. ANGEL It was unlikely that anyone would find them immediately. As he drove back toward the city, Hasmed’s happiness He could go back later, bury the body and burn the jacket. proved brief. The body he’d gotten was clearly weak and No problem. Better yet, stuff the body in an oil drum and sickly. He was able to seal over most of the damage in its then bury it. He’d need an oil drum, a hammer and a forehead, but the eye was resisting his attempts to force it WINGS shovel. back into health. The car was not particularly flashy. If he pried off the Beyond those obvious problems, the body was wreathed VIN plaque, got rid of the registration and stripped off in a thick layer of needless fat. The teeth were loose and the plates, he could drive it into New York, sell it to Juan pitted, set in gums that were withered and weak. As he in Harlem and rely on it being chopped into parts by next drove, his tongue probed two sockets. The teeth had come Sunday. out when he bit Mikey’s wrist. The witnesses were more troublesome, but they The tongue itself was sluggish and dull of sensation. It wouldn’t talk to the cops. Even if they did, the cops knew seemed to have a coating on it, which Harvey’s battered Harvey and Mikey. They’d never believe Harvey did it, brain associated with nicotine. That was also (it seemed) especially if they didn’t find a body. the explanation for the thick clinging slime in his nose The Mafia was far more likely to get them to talk, but and throat, the weakness of his lungs and the craving he even they wouldn’t believe he did Diamond. He’d lie, and felt through his blood and his bones. they’d believe it. There was a packet of cigarettes in the car’s cup So much for Harvey’s priorities. They were pressing, holder. Harvey’s body cried out for one. Hasmed threw but hardly unmanageable. them out the window. Summoning Vodantu would be much more of a There were two courses of thought going through problem. Hasmed could feel that his powers, which Hasmed’s mind. One traced the mortal concerns left over once shook clouds and sundered mountains, were weak. in Harvey’s brain, and the other catalogued the immortal He was a ghost of his old self, and he didn’t know how to goals of the creature who was now running the show. recover his former strength. Harvey’s brain was chattering and disorganized, think- Parking Mikey’s car in front of a nondescript row of ing about fingerprints on Diamond’s body, blood, DNA, small apartment buildings, Hasmed softly said “Vodantu. the car, all the people who saw… It was terrified of the cops Vodantu. Hear me, my lord. Your servant would speak.” and the Mafia and above all, terrified of what would He listened intently, but there was nothing. No con- happen to Tina if he got locked up or murdered. nection. Whatever gulfs lay between him and his master’s Hasmed was trying to think how it could establish some prison, they were too far for him to span. sort of power base in the mortal world—something that Yet. would protect him from threats and eventually amass Shrugging, he left the car and went up the steps into his enough strength to summon Vodantu. apartment, where he was struck in the face with the edge of Slowly, as the spirit and the brain became acclimated a cast-iron frying pan. to one another, the two streams merged. The problems 21 20 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND II STOLZE ASHES The frying pan was in the hands of Helena Schirokauer, Harvey’s half-sister, and she later felt just horrible about chapter it. But it all happened so fast—she just reacted. Tina was in the living room, watching Sesame Street, AND GREG and Helena was in the kitchen, making a Spanish omelet. She’d heard the door open, and she’d been a little puzzled— ANGEL Harvey wasn’t due back for a couple of hours. He was supposedly down at the bar with his worthless “friends,” two trying to find some “angle” to make the money he owed. Still, he might have come back early. WINGS Helena heard Tina ask something, but she couldn’t make out exactly what it was. Then she heard Tina running toward her, and she heard heavy footsteps following. Helena knew Harvey, and that wasn’t his tread. She didn’t think this consciously, but at some low, animal level, she knew. She couldn’t have explained why she got scared, but something made her grip the handle tighter. Hasmed was not the only spirit to escape durance Then Tina had come around the corner of the within the Abyss. While Helena was making a hysterical call doorway, and Helena had only had a moment to gauge to 911, another freed spirit was in Miami making a sand- the little girl’s expression. A moment was enough. Tina wich. was scared and upset. The body had originally been named Christina A half-second later, a huge man with blood all over his Vadrudakis, and Christina’s memories were still present face and shirt had come around the corner only a step within it. A new tenant was in the house, but it still had the behind the little girl. old owner’s furniture—for the time being. (Christina was Helena had done what any quick-thinking woman in there too, but, to continue the metaphor, she’d been would. She screamed and hit him between the eyes as hard locked in the basement and had no say about anything.) as she could. Her current driver’s license read “Angela Meyerhoff.” For the second time in two hours, Harvey Ciullo’s The spirit within was named Sabriel. body dropped hard. The sandwich was ham and Swiss on rye. To Christina Tina just stared, then threw her arms around her Vadrudakis, that’s all it would have been—ham, Swiss cheese, father’s body. rye bread and some ranch dressing to tart it up. On one “Daddy!” she screamed. “Daddy! Daddy!” level, that was how Sabriel experienced the sandwich. Helena gaped, and, after a moment, she recognized But on another level, she was aware that the ham was her half-brother’s shoes. dead animal flesh, shredded and processed and embalmed in some sort of oleaginous mixture of hog fat and chemi- cals. The cheese was animal squeezings mixed with germs and left to harden and bubble before the requisite chemi- cals were used to preserve it. The bread was more chemicals, mixed with drowned and pulverized wheat. As for the dressing, the less said about that suspension of sour milk and desiccated vegetables, the better. 23 22 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES Sabriel ate the sandwich because she was hungry and As Nate watched, Angela gave him a level glance, stuck Christina’s body wanted it. Sabriel hated it. a slim fingertip in the Nutella and then gave the finger a Nosing around in the refrigerator, she found some- deliberate sucking. thing called “Nutella,” which Christina’s body also Nate had only had one lover before Angela, and that AND GREG remembered enjoying. Sabriel pried up the lid, stuck her woman had been, like Nathaniel himself, very plain. The finger in and sucked off a thick brown glob. Chocolate only thing people remembered about her was her buck ANGEL and hazelnut. teeth. Still holding the Nutella, she wandered into the living Sabriel had initially used the “supermodel” approach room, where a plain man was making beautiful music. when she designed a new appearance for herself, but she The music was a piano concerto by Beethoven, and the had quickly learned that most people were distant and a WINGS plain man was Nathaniel Kowalski, guest pianist for the little confused around such perfect representations of Miami Symphony Orchestra. Nate was scheduled to play the current beauty standard. When they’d looked at her, that evening and was very nervous. they’d almost expected her to start selling them dish soap Sabriel came right up behind him, close enough that or vacation cruises or magazine subscriptions. It was Nate could feel the warmth of her body, even though much better, she learned, to be close to perfect but have Sabriel—or “Angela”—had the soft tread of a kitten. a few flaws. Just enough to seem reachable. Just enough “It sounds fine,” Sabriel said. to be real. “I’m glad you think so.” Nate’s voice was quiet, and he Sabriel was now an expert at making people love her. didn’t stop playing. Sabriel nudged him in the back with She hated it. a hip. “Do you know the piece?” Sabriel asked. “You’re going to wear your fingers out.” “Of course I know it! I’ve been playing this since I was “I need to practice before tonight,” Nate said, biting twelve.” his lip. He’d met “Angela” two weeks earlier. “But you still need to practice? You must be a slow I won’t look up at her. I won’t turn around, Nate learner.” She said it with a teasing tone and sat down next thought to himself. He looked. to Nate on the piano bench. Angela was lovely. Not in a distant, alienating, Unconsciously, Nate shifted away from the contact of centerfold way. She was short and slender, with just a little Angela’s thigh on his own. Not because he disliked it, but outward curve beneath her bellybutton, like a tiny roll of because he liked it too much. baby fat. Her limbs were lithe and soft without the taut Sabriel felt the contact too, and hated it. She shifted harshness of a gym regimen. She had perky breasts. But her weight so that it resumed. her real glory was her face, a sweet, dimpled, gentle face. “You don’t understand,” Nate said weakly. Her complexion was peaches and cream—it really stood Angela shifted away, and the pianist bit his lip again, out in the ocean of tanned Miami cheeks with Botox- wishing she was still touching him. “Oh, well, I’m no artist. I’m sure the deep, profound, treated eyes and bulging, liposculpted lips. Angela looked magical rapport you have with the music is something a like a baking powder ad from the 1950s, except for the hair. The hair was modern, a dyed carroty orange with simple woman like me could never comprehend.” thick streaks of ashy blond. It was never orderly, and it “Angela…” always looked fantastic. “I guess that I can only stand outside with my nose pressed against the glass…” “It’s not that!” 25 24 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “…while you with your, your superior artist’s soul ear and hated it. She hated Nate’s small sigh, and the way commune with, with God and nature and music.” his grip tightened, and the way the young man’s body “Please, please don’t! I have to practice! I… I don’t pressed close to her, yearning for her. think I’m better than you. But you know… Hal Guelder’s They made love, and Sabriel hated it. AND GREG going to be in the audience. And I need to be, you know, She hated how much she loved it. really good for the conductor, too. Miami took a chance ANGEL on me! I can’t let them down.” In New York City, a woman with red hair and green They were quiet for a moment. eyes was playing four games of chess simultaneously against “Hal Guelder’s the guy from Sony Classic, right?” three opponents. Angela asked. The four players were in the basement of a local WINGS “He might get me a record, Angela.” YMCA. The chess sets were identical—old lacquered wood Angela nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just… I never cases that folded open to reveal the black and white squares. had anything I did so well. You know? Anything I cared The pieces inside were cheap pine and cedar, lathed into about like you care about this. And I get jealous.” shape by mass production. The only exceptions were a “Sometimes I’m not sure if being… being ‘talented’ is rook, three pawns and a bishop. Those few pieces were a blessing or a curse,” Nate said. plastic, put into the wood sets to fill in for the casualties of He was lying. He’d never thought being talented was a years of use. curse. But he thought it might play well with Angela. He The woman’s first opponent was a young boy, maybe knew everyone expected musicians to be temperamental ten years old. He’d picked black and, as she opened with and high-strung, expected them to suffer for their art. the pawn in front of her king, her other opponents smiled Sabriel knew Nate was lying, but she didn’t let on. “I a little and exchanged a look. just worry that you’re going to overdo it,” she said softly. Her second opponent was the boy’s grandfather, a “Well…” Nathaniel looked at Angela and saw confu- portly gent in his sixties. He chose white and started what sion, shame and doubt. would (eventually) become a textbook Larsen/ Nimzovich With a perfect body, Sabriel never could have so opening. She pushed a pawn immediately and moved to perfectly portrayed doubt, shame and confusion. Nate the third game. reached over and stroked Angela’s hair. Her next challenger was a handsome man with dark Sabriel hated it. hair and dark eyes. He could have been anywhere between “I… I do overwork sometimes.” twenty and forty. His hair had no white and his face had no “I just worry that…” wrinkles, but there was an austerity and maturity to his “What?” bearing that gave the impression of age. He picked black “I worry that music will always mean more to you. and made a quick but conservative response to her aggres- That’s what I mean by ‘jealous.’ Not that I want what you sive Bird variant attack. have, but that I…” Interestingly, she took the longest pause before the “Oh Angela.” Nate turned on the bench and embraced fourth board. She stared and chewed her lips, then pushed her. He kissed her then, and it was tender and passionate, a white pawn. Immediately, she reached across that same full of trust and vulnerability. It was intensely human. board and moved a black knight. Sabriel hated it. She put her hands under Nate’s shirt Then she was back to the first game, where her oppo- and stroked the bare skin of his back and hated it. She put nent had already responded. She brought out a bishop her face to the side of Nate’s neck and nuzzled behind his without seeming to consider his move, then went on to 27 26 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES engage his grandfather. Then on to the third man, ending piece, even a pawn. So I had to keep my pieces too, to with unhesitating moves on both sides of the final board. prevent him from simply outgunning me.” By her fourth move, she’d checkmated the young boy. “But at the end, you won with fewer pieces,” the man The two older men nodded knowingly. said. AND GREG “It’s called the Scholar’s Mate,” the woman said kindly. “Well, I outmaneuvered him. Once I moved the atten- Her face was covered with thick clouds of freckles, and her tion of the game into a smaller area, the rest of his pieces ANGEL smile was straight out of Norman Rockwell. didn’t matter. They were isolated.” “I’ve warned you about that before,” the grandfather “Mm-hm.” He contemplated his next move while she (whose name was Samuel) said. “You’ve got to keep an eye did two more plays in her solitaire game. “I’m Max, by the on that weak F7 pawn.” way. Max Hirniesen.” WINGS “Did you see how I did it?” the woman asked. “Penelope,” she replied. She didn’t look up from the “Uh huh,” said the boy, eyes downcast. board. “So you won’t fall for it again, right?” “You were much more aggressive with me,” he noted. “Nuh uh.” She shrugged. “It’s good to play different people “Okay then.” different ways. Keeps you sharp. Versatile.” “Grandpa, I’m gonna go play shuffleboard, okay?” “The body count on our game is certainly higher.” “Sure,” said the old man. “Just stay where I can see “That’s the natural progression, isn’t it? You start out you.” He looked up at the woman. “Don’t think you’ll get with a lot of pieces and pare down to the essentials.” me that easy.” “Making room on the board for wider maneuvers as “I know I won’t. Are you rated?” you do.” He made a move. “Check.” He shrugged. “I’ve got an eleven hundred in the She moved out, then took more steps with her per- USCF.” sonal game. “Plenty of time to push it.” “I knew a man in Vienna,” she said, “who believed that “Yourself?” the way you play chess reveals your personality.” “Never bothered.” Max chuckled. “Another reason to practice different As they spoke, she made two more orbits of the games. styles? Check.” It did take her longer to beat Sam—long enough for the She countered. “He would have said Sam was insecure, grandson to grow bored of shuffleboard and pinball and or maybe afraid. He’s had losses in his life, and his fear of checkers with a young girl, and to start whining a little. In loss is reflected in his defensive play.” the end, though, she pinned his king with a rather pedes- “That’s rather a killjoy way to look at it. Check.” trian two-rook pincers movement. She escaped again, and several turns were played in “Good game,” he said, shaking his head. silence as she fought her way free of his area of control. All “I enjoyed it,” she replied. the while, she stayed in the rhythm of playing one move He took his grandson’s hand, and they wandered off. against him, then one move on each side of her other This left her opposed only by the dark-haired man— game. and herself. Max pressed harder. They were closely matched, and “Interesting strategy you used on him,” her final both were battling hard to control the center of the board. opponent said. “What about the little boy?” he asked. “What’s his “Despite the pushy opening, he was a very conservative personality?” player at heart,” she replied. “Very reluctant to lose any 29 28 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Correct. Look closer. It’s stalemate. A perfect stale- “In a four-move game, he didn’t get a chance to show much.” mate. Neither player can move any piece without going “Like life, I suppose.” into check.” “Mm?” He looked at it silently for five full minutes. “Wow,” he AND GREG “Chess is like life. You start out with a great store of said at last. “You’re right.” He looked up at her again. years and, as you approach death, inescapably have fewer “And you’re not ranked?” ANGEL and fewer of them.” Although he didn’t show it, Max was “Doesn’t seem important.” slightly annoyed that Penelope kept splitting her atten- “You were toying with me, weren’t you? That series of tion between him and her other game. checks I got.” “I wouldn’t know,” Penelope said. “I’ve never run “I wanted to frustrate you so that you’d be even more WINGS out.” aggressive later in the game.” “But surely as we age, the years we have become more “And it worked.” precious—since we ourselves are wiser, more mature and She shrugged. “That’s a very interesting ring you more experienced? Like a rook—not much use in the early have,” she said. game, but often crucial in the end.” Max narrowed his eyes. He’d suspected there was some- “You could just as easily argue that the remaining years thing unusual about this woman. Now he was certain. are like an endgame knight—hobbled by poor mobility, “Yes. It’s an antique.” eccentric and often irrelevant.” “Is it silver or platinum? Or something else?” “All things run down, I suppose.” “I don’t really know.” He turned the dark metal band “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But look at the boy’s around his finger a couple times. game. It didn’t run down. It got chopped off suddenly. “I used to know someone with a ring just like it,” she Checkmate.” said, looking directly in his eyes. Suddenly, Max’s mouth Max blinked, then squinted down at the board. was dry. “Impressive,” he said, and tipped over his king. “Really.” He fought to keep his voice calm. Penelope shifted over to the side of the remaining “It was a long, long time ago.” board and began making increasingly rapid moves. “Still, I’ve always been curious about the… prov- “So,” Max said. “What did the game show about my enance of this one.” personality?” “Then you should go to Toronto and look up Clive “You’re generally extremely confident, almost cocky, Keene. That’s ‘Keene’ with an E at the end.” but something has happened recently that shook your “I see. Maybe I’ll do that. What does Mr. Keene do?” certainty. I think you lost some sort of mentor figure? Or “I’m not sure what he’s doing now. As I said, it was a perhaps just misjudged something, misjudged it badly.” long, long time ago. But you two will find something to Max raised an eyebrow. She was frighteningly correct. talk about, I’m sure. You could talk about… the weather.” He turned his head and rubbed beneath his nose to cover With that, she stood and swept the pieces off the board. his confusion. “Wait,” Max said. “Done!” she said brightly, looking up from the board. But Penelope, who was much better known by a differ- He inspected it. ent name, didn’t wait. “Neither king is checkmated,” he said. No pieces had been removed from the board, but they were locked In the desert, inside her ages-old prison, the demon together in an intricate, spiral entanglement. Avitu slept. She did not dream. 31 30 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND III STOLZE ASHES chapter AND GREG ANGEL three WINGS Hasmed’s spirit was suspended once more between the worlds of life and death. Once more, he was battered and shaken by the howl of a storm that stirred nothing mortal, nothing living, nothing tangible. Like the lost memories and dead feelings around him, Hasmed was gripped by a hellish wind of souls. He retained a tenuous connection to Harvey Ciullo, but it was weakening fast. The world had once been Hasmed’s to command, but now the act of forcing his will upon it was arduous and exhausting. Saving Harvey from death had weakened him. Doing it again, so soon… he wasn’t sure he could. He wasn’t sure if he should even bother. From the realm of the dead, he could still vaguely see what was happening to Harvey. They’d taken him to some room of white and silver and bright moonlike lights. They had cut him and drugged him and tried to use chemicals and tools to do what Hasmed could do with a whisper and a wish. But their science was weak, and Harvey’s body was badly broken. As Hasmed watched, the body’s last flicker of vitality winked out. What of it? Perhaps now Hasmed would be pulled back to the Pit, back to the nothingness that had been his fate for so long undisturbed. Perhaps it was just as well to be there, with no power and no hope and no future. The world he’d found, Harvey’s world, had wearied and disgusted him. Given a 33 32 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “I feel like makin’ love. Crap, how do you think I feel? planet of glories, the humans had clearly worked hard to insulate themselves from everything natural and pure and Look, just get Danae.” important, creating a world of their own—a world shabby, “I think the first person you should talk to is Dr. Lipowicz.” small and sad. Let them go. Let them fester. Let them be the “Great. Can he check me outta this dump?” AND GREG gangrene in the wound they themselves had inflicted. “She, actually. And I think you’d better get used to the And yet… idea of a long stay.” ANGEL Outside the white and silver room, Hasmed could see a “A male nurse and a lady doctor. Go figure. A’right, send figure waiting in a drab gray chamber. A figure burning with ’er in.” life. Unspoiled and innocent, golden and pure. Dr. Lipowicz, a portly and maternal woman, came quick Tina. and looked at him with frank curiosity. WINGS More than seeing her, he could feel her. He could feel her “Mr. Ciullo? You’re awake?” tears as they trickled down her cheeks. He did not hear her “Nah, I’m sleeping with my eyes open and my gums whimper, “I want Daddy,” he felt it. He felt the push of flappin’. Can you get Danae for me?” unbroken, unconditional love that circumstance had yet to Lipowicz smiled and made a note on his chart next to the time: Conscious, alert, capable of humor! stress and weaken—love uncomplicated and untried. To this little girl, her father was perfect. He was every- “I’d like to ask you some questions first. Yours is a very… thing. She needed him. Hasmed felt it the way a flower feels interesting case.” the rising sun. “Yeah? That gonna get me a discount?” Perhaps he had the strength after all. “Now’s not the time to worry about that.” “So says the woman with the salary. You’re what, a brain surgeon?” Nurse Schwabbe had seen it all. That’s what he thought, “Neurosurgeon, yes.” anyhow. He’d seen gunshots and stabs and falls and car “What do you pull down? Never mind, I don’ wanna crashes. He’d seen strangling and poisoning and overdoses know. What I wanna know is how soon I can get out of here.” on just about any drug you could name, including aspirin. She leaned down and looked in his eyes with a flashlight, He’d seen the many ways people could come to grief and, making another note as she spoke. “That depends on many without thinking deeply about it, he’d decided that he’d seen factors, but there are a lot of tests I’d like to run.” all there was to see about the human body. “What do you need to know? I’m awake, I’m fine, and I Checking Harvey Ciullo in post-op, he changed his mind. wanna go home. You can keep me against my will?” One moment Harvey was out cold; the next his eyes “I’d be neglecting my duties if I let you go in a risky popped open—instantly alert, completely focused. Schwabbe condition. I’ll be the first to admit you’ve made a remarkable hadn’t seen that before. People came out of total anesthesia recovery. Nearly unprecedented. But I’d still like to do a one of two ways: gradual and fuzzy, or shaking and disori- CAT scan and an MRI to fully evaluate the extent of your ented. But not Harvey. injuries and their nature.” “I wanna talk to Danae Sieferson,” he said. At that moment, the door opened once more, revealing Another first. People emerging from a sedative fog made a hesitant Helena and a jubilant Tina. plenty of weird statements and odd requests—lots of times it “Daddy!” the little girl shouted. “Daddy Daddy Daddy!” was just gibberish. Even when they said something coherent, “Shh,” Helena said, finger to lips. “Daddy’s tired, honey. it was usually “What happened?” or “I want to speak to my Daddy’s very sick.” She pulled at Tina’s shoulders, but the doctor” or “Did you get all the tumor?” little girl squirmed free and ran across the room. They almost never asked for a hospital administrator. “It’s a’right,” Harvey said, as Tina climbed up onto his “Mr. Ciullo? Are you, uh… How do you feel?” bed. 35 34 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “What are those?” she asked, pointing at his various “I’m sorry?” she said. “I can’t pay for treatment. You know this. You been tubes. “Beats me.” He looked up at the doctor. riding my ass about Tina’s stitches an’ I’m guessing this shit costs a lot more. So why not cut me loose?” “Honey, you can visit your father for a little while, but not AND GREG long, okay?” “It’s not that simple.” “I want my daddy!” Tina said, locking her arms around He shrugged. “Okay, if you’re gonna force me to stay and ANGEL Harvey’s stomach. get scans and tests and pokes and prods, that’s your business, “Let her stay,” Harvey said, and some hard tone in his but I ain’t gonna pay for ’em, I’ll tell you that right now. I ain’t voice made Dr. Lipowicz uneasy for a moment. She turned signing nothin’ unless it gets me outta here.” to Helena on the way out and quietly said, “Five minutes.” “We have a duty to our patients.” WINGS “Why not do your duty to your other patients, huh? Dr. Helena shuffled in and stared at her half-brother. “I am… so sorry,” she started. Lipowicz thinks I’m an ‘interesting case,’ which means she’s “Yeah, well.” Harvey shrugged. gonna soak you and ignore everyone else. I ain’t interested in “I mean… Jesus, I could have killed you.” being interesting.” “You did, didn’t you? I mean, I died on the table, right?” “You can’t be released until she okays it. She’s the “How’d you know about that?” physician in charge.” “I knew.” Helena bit her lip. “Look, Helena, it’s okay. “Ah.” He raised his hands. “Now we’re making progress.” Honest. A’right? I mean, I accept your apology.” “It was just that… I didn’t know it was you. You didn’t Harvey was released early the next morning after Danae look like you.” (over Dr. Lipowicz’s objections) asked the Chief of Surgery “You thought you were protecting Tina?” Helena nod- to transfer Harvey from Dr. Lipowicz to Dr. Lyons. Dr. ded. “Then I wouldn’t change a thing.” Lyons, the trauma specialist who’d been on ER duty when “You mean it?” Harvey came in, was more than happy to let Ciullo go. He had He nodded. plenty of other patients to worry about. “Well…” She shuffled her feet. “Is there anything I can Helena came to get him and was startled to see him do? I mean, anything I can… I don’ know, get you or picking at his bandages even on the elevator down. something?” “Leave that alone,” she said. “You can get me Danae Sieferson.” “Don’t tell me what to do,” Harvey replied. Eventually, with some tears and tantrum, Tina was per- She frowned. There it was again. He didn’t seem like the suaded to leave. After much more of his insistence, Danae old Harvey. The old Harvey was (frankly) a bit of a hypochon- Sieferson appeared. She was the executive Harvey had talked driac. Or maybe not that. Maybe he just enjoyed the sympathy to three months earlier when he’d brought Tina in after a bad when he was sick. Certainly he was never… impatient with fall onto the sidewalk. Danae had been trying to get him to illness. Not like now. pay, just two days before Mike Diamond took him on a ride. He got the last of the bandages off in Helena’s car and “Mr. Ciullo. I hope you’re feeling better.” She said it like examined himself in the makeup mirror. she didn’t particularly mean it. “Crap, what a mess,” he said. “I look like Jethro Tull Harvey was already sitting up in bed making phone should be writing a song about me.” Helena glanced over and calls and checking the TV news. As she entered, he turned nearly ran the car off the road. off the television. “Harvey! How did they let you go like that?” “Let’s cut to the chase, ’kay? You don’t want me here, and “Relax, it looks lots worse than it is.” I don’t wanna be here. Surely we can work something out.” 37 36 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES In the middle of his forehead there was a thick knot of “Yes ma’am.” black surgical stitching and angry pink scab tissue. The scab After she left, Harvey paused only long enough to shave spread stubby starfish arms out from its deep crimson his entire head. When he’d dried off his newly bald pate, he center, radiating from the hole that had been punched into put on a hat and sunglasses and went to his car. AND GREG his brain. In a contest of ugliness, however, his right eye was a likely Valley Garden Mall wasn’t too far from Harvey’s apart- ANGEL contender. Where its white had once been bloodshot, it was ment, but it was far enough. He parked his car there and now simply bloody, crisscrossed with broken veins and brown- started walking down the rows of mini-vans and sports-utes ish clots. and station wagons, discretely peeking in the windows and Harvey rubbed his cheek. “I got bum fluff, too.” Then he looking for unlocked doors. After about ten minutes, he WINGS ran his hand up the back of his scalp, which had been shaved found one on a dark blue Xterra. so that they could drain and suture the contusion the floor Figures, Harvey thought. People who ain’t got much will had left when he’d fallen back after Helena’s blow. beat your brains in to protect it, and people with good stuff “Listen,” he said to her. “Did you tell anyone about this? leave it unlocked. That you clocked me, I mean?” Hasmed blinked. He hadn’t banked on more trouble “Tell anyone? Well, I… I called Mom down in Florida.” from the individual consciousness called “Harvey Ciullo”— “That’s okay. Anybody else?” he’d expected death and a scrambled mind to leave Harvey “No.” pretty quiet. But the brain had habits, and they made Hasmed “Good, that’s good. Call Ma back and tell her to keep uneasy. Still, there was no cure but to ignore it. He shook off quiet about it, a’right?” his concern and got in the car. “Why?” Harvey’s memories contained all the knowledge needed “It’ll help me out. Now if you’ll excuse me…” They were to hotwire a car, but Harvey had never really been a car in front of his building. thief. He’d stolen a few cars in his day, most often “borrow- “What are you going to do?” ing” from friends without permission, but he didn’t really “Go in and take a nap, what do you think? Trust me, I have the cool nerves needed to do it consistently and well. ain’t about to, y’know, rearrange the furniture. Tina’s with In fact, Harvey really hadn’t done much of anything Doris, right?” Doris was Helena’s neighbor—she’d watched consistently or well. Tina before. Hasmed, of course, did not have such psychological Helena nodded. limitations. He stripped the steering wheel and jammed a “You got Tina all day?” cheap screwdriver into the ignition. In a minute and a half, “If that’s what you want.” he was underway. “It’ll really help me out. I’ll come by this evenin’, we’ll He drove to the parking structure of a nearby office eat.” building and looked for an Xterra near the doors. He figured “Are you sure you should be driving?” that’s where the employees would park, leaving the farther He opened his mouth and closed it again. “Mm, good spots for their clients. The first building yielded nothing, but point. You wanna pick me up?” after a couple more tries, he spotted a dark green one. Close “I think it’s best.” enough. “Okay. Six o’clock? Or how ’bout six-thirty?” When she Hasmed double-parked and hopped out with a high- nodded, he said, “Thanks Helena.” torque electric screwdriver and a can of WD-40. Swapping “Well, you know… I’m just, I really feel awful about this.” the plates was actually much riskier than stealing the car in the “Don’t let it eat at you.” first place: It took more time and was more obviously suspi- “Get some rest, now.” 39 38 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES cious to the casual observer. But he thought it was worth it. If He claimed it was Muscular Dystrophy, but everyone he carried it off, he could probably count on a whole figured it was too much booze. afternoon without police hassles. When he opened the door to his apartment, Hasmed Leaving the garage, he double-parked in front of a could instantly see that Roscoe had been telling the truth all AND GREG convenience store and got a bottle of Evian. He pulled the along. He smiled. tips off some weeds from the sidewalk and added it to the “Hawvey Ciullo,” Roscoe said. “You look like shit. What ANGEL water. Then he got in his stolen car and paid a visit to Roscoe you do to your head?” His tremors were mild today, but Paum—better known as “Roscoe Shakes.” visible. “Good mornin’ to you too, Shakes.” “Don’ you fuckin’ call me that.” If Roscoe Paum’s life had gone according to plan, he WINGS “A’right, a’right. Just bustin’ your chops. How’s it goin’?” would have eked out a living doing small-purse prizefighting. “Shitty.” Roscoe made no move to let him in. “What you His actual plan was to be heavyweight champion of the world, want?” but that was never a realistic option. For one thing, genetics “What do I always want when I come see you?” doomed him to a top fighting weight of 160 pounds. For “You wan’ me to do you a favor.” Shakes looked dis- another, he wasn’t a world-class boxer. Roscoe had a flash jab gusted, but Harvey had always known that Roscoe secretly and was a weird sort of genius with crushing body blows, but liked having someone ask him for help. It annoyed him, but he couldn’t go the distance. His punishing gut shots were it also encouraged him to know there was someone even more wonderful for wearing people down in the long term, but to pathetic than himself. use that strategy, a fighter has to be in it for the long term “Uh huh. Unless you got a hot date?” himself—and Roscoe wasn’t a withstander. Lacking a deal- Roscoe’s eyes flashed and he started to close the door. closing roundhouse or uppercut, he was exiled to the bad side “Fuck you, Ciullo. I gotta take a lot of shit, but I ain’t gotta of the bookie odds. He wasn’t worthless in the ring—not by take shit from you.” any means—but he wasn’t a contender. “Before you kick me out, drink this.” He held out the It was frustrating, and Roscoe wound up with a reputa- Evian bottle. tion as a dirty fighter. It turned out that skill at low shots Shakes glared at it with distrust. “What is it?” worked just as well for tangling people up and smashing Hasmed shrugged. their elbow joints, but league officials tended to look Roscoe gave him a hard glance, and there was some- askance at that sort of tactic. He landed more than his share thing… maybe it was just the shaved head and that new knot of groin punches, too. in his forehead, but the man before him suddenly looked like Like most Jersey boxers, Roscoe made acquaintances in someone to take serious. the mob. After delicate inquiries, he let it be known that his Roscoe took a drink. repugnance toward taking a fall wasn’t completely impla- As he did, Hasmed breathed out, but not just with his cable. He didn’t take a lot of falls—you don’t get good odds if body. He breathed out with his spirit. you fail too often—but he took enough. He even did a little Thousands of years ago, Hasmed had been an angel of muscle work for them a couple times, though he didn’t have healing and protection, and some small sliver of him still was. a taste for it. He never did anything permanent. Weakened and twisted, his power could still flow forth like a Between the purses he legitimately won and the cuts he got warm spring breeze, rolling out and over and into Roscoe’s under the table for sacking out in the ring, Roscoe was doing wracked frame. all right. Hasmed exhaled. The boxer drank, and his tremors Then he fell apart. stopped. 41 40 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES Roscoe blinked. He looked down at the hand holding the “Well, some weird shit, Roscoe. Some real weird shit. bottle and turned slightly right and left. You know Mikey Diamond?” “What did you do?” he whispered. “Uh huh.” Hasmed said nothing. “Yesterday he killed me.” AND GREG “What did you do?” Roscoe jerked his head around. At that moment, his body “Feeling better?” began to tremble once more. He took a drink from the bottle ANGEL “What is this stuff?” and, as Hasmed sighed, he felt better again. Hasmed gave him a dry little smile. “You mean he…?” Roscoe lunged forward and grabbed Harvey’s shirtfront. “He put a bullet in my brain, Ros. We were fighting for Though enfeebled, he still had a strong grasp. He drew back his gun an’ it went off. I guess I must’ve fallen on top of him WINGS his left hand, still clutching the bottle, and aimed a blow at though, ’cause when I came around, he was on the ground Harvey’s head. dead. I drove myself back into town an’ went to the hospital.” “You’ll spill it.” “So you… you came back to life?” Roscoe froze in place. “Well, I didn’t die right away. The bullet knocked me “Now, if you wanna hit me, I guess I can’t stop you. But out, or somethin’. You’ve had that, right? You get knocked listen, Shakes. I just had brain surgery yesterday. So you out but come back quick?” The boxer nodded. “So I wasn’t punch me in the head, you might just have a murder rap on dead then. I died on the operating table, last night. But I your hands. Not to mention that, if you beat my brains out, came back.” there’s no way I can make more of your miracle cure.” “Shit.” Roscoe’s breath started to come fast and uneven. He “Just wait. It gets weirder.” He frowned, watching the wasn’t sobbing, but he seemed to be panting, hyperventilating. road, not looking at his passenger. “I saw stuff while I was He didn’t know what to do. He was panicking. dead,” he said at last. “Now why don’t you let go?” Hasmed said, and his voice “Saw stuff? You mean… like, your life before your eyes? was ice. Or the, whatsit, the tunnel of light?” Roscoe obeyed. “Nothin’ like that. I saw everything from the outside, “Let’s go for a ride.” Paum. I could see the whole world.” He chewed his lip for a “A’right.” Shakes was subdued, staring at the bottle in his moment. “It ain’t nothing like you think.” hands. “W-whatever you say.” “Yeah?” “Mm, and you better get some gloves for in the car.” “The world is fuckin’ weirder than you can possibly “Is it that cold out?” imagine. There’s all kinds of… of secret connections. It’s all “The weather ain’t cold, so much as the car is hot.” fate. It’s like, a guy in the Bronx decides to wipe his forehead “Ah.” with a beer, right? Like, on a hot day?” “A’right…” Roscoe’s brow furrowed. It took about an hour for Roscoe’s quivering to return. In “And because he did that… that little movement… it that time, he and Hasmed grabbed a couple of shovels from might affect, just a little, how the grass grows in Central Park. a construction site, along with an empty fifty-gallon drum. And that grass growing, it affects people jogging past it. And They didn’t talk much. Shakes was simply stunned. Hasmed those people make all kinds of tiny changes too, that spread didn’t see much point in talking until the other man was out all over the world, until that one guy in the Bronx has receptive. affected everything. Y’see? It’s all hooked together.” “What’s goin’ on, Hawv?” Roscoe finally asked it as they “I guess.” started out of town. 43 42 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND IV STOLZE ASHES “That’s how I fixed your shakes. I could see stuff they were hooked to. That stuff I gave you, it doesn’t work for any chapter reason. No reason a scientist could find. They’d say it’s a coincidence, right? But coincidence is a reason, if you see AND GREG it right.” “So this stuff is… what, magic?” “Pah, magic nothin’. Magic is cups and balls and linked ANGEL rings. It’s some faggot in a tux at your kid’s birthday party. four No, this is… it’s always been there. It’s real. It’s just hard to see when you’re inside it. But I see it now.” “Shit, Hawv, I don’ know…” WINGS “Look, you’re superstitious, right? I mean, I’ve seen you throw salt over your shoulder an’ stuff.” “Well… yeah, I mean, everyone’s a little superstitious, I guess…” “Same thing man. Just one level higher.” They pulled in by the old fuel refinery. Hasmed and Roscoe left the shovels in a ditch and “That ain’t all there is to it,” Hasmed said quietly. “I see abandoned the Xterra a couple blocks from a bus stop. They the connections. I see other stuff too. There’s stuff that’s didn’t talk much on the bus ride. They were both exhausted. not… not exactly real? Things that think. They see the “I gotta get in shape,” Hasmed said at last. Roscoe gave hookups too. They can do stuff, even though they ain’t exactly him a sideways glance. His tremors were back, and the water here or there.” was gone. There was a pause. “You got a shape,” he said automatically. “Round.” “I ain’t sure I follow you,” Roscoe said as they got out of Neither laughed. the sports-ute. “But I guess I can’t argue with results, y’know?” “Nah, I mean it,” Hasmed said. “This is disgusting.” He “That’s smart thinkin’. I can trust you, right?” mopped his neck and forehead with a dirty handkerchief. “What do you mean?” “Look at me. I’m wheezing, I’m sore, I’m weak… and this.” “I mean…” Hasmed did another sigh. He wasn’t even He grabbed a double handful of his belly and shook it up and sure why he was doing it. He was following leads in Harvey’s down. “Look at that! That’s so nasty I don’t even know where memories, notions Harvey had about how Roscoe would to start.” react. “I mean I’m the only one with your cure, right? I don’ “Well, you did just get out of the hospital,” Shakes replied. wanna put it this way, I really don’t but… that’s a hold over “I won’t have that excuse forever. You were an athlete. you, right?” Tell me how I get in shape.” Roscoe looked down, uncomfortable. Shakes gave a little bark of laughter. “It’s not like there’s “Yeah,” he muttered. some fuckin’ mysterious secret, Hawv. You exercise. You “That’s okay, though, ’cause I’m gonna give you a hold just, y’know, get your sweat pants on and go running and over me. Then we can trust one another.” jump rope and do sit-ups. Pump some iron. Get a medi- “Mikey Diamond.” cine ball.” “I need your help, Roscoe.” “What was your old boxing gym?” Hasmed pulled the lock and opened the gates. “I guess I need yours, too,” the boxer replied. “I trained at Conley’s,” Roscoe said. He gave a moody Hasmed dragged the oil drum while Roscoe carried the frown and looked out the window. shovels. 45 44 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Would you go back?” “I don’ know. What do you feel like?” “Quit it.” “We could go to the Sizzler. Get some steaks.” “I’m serious, Ros! If you got cured for good, would you “Eh, maybe you should take it easy on the heavy food.” go back in the ring?” “Nah, I need to get my strength back up. Protein and AND GREG “You think that could happen?” such. You know.” “Anything’s possible, I guess.” Hasmed tipped back his “McDonald’s!” said Tina, very loud. ANGEL hat to reveal a little more of the scar that glared like an angry “No.” Helena and Hasmed said it in unison, him touch- third eye from the middle of his forehead. “I’m getting the ing his head, her touching her stomach. hang of… stuff. I think I can see it. See a way.” They were still debating it as they filed out the door. Roscoe Paum shifted in his seat. “Cut it out, Hawv. “You should get good shoes, Daddy,” Tina said. “Then WINGS You’re givin’ me the creeps.” you won’t fall down.” “Which would you rather have, the creeps or the shakes?” As Sabriel slept, she dreamed. Hasmed barely had time to get back to his apartment, In the day, weighed down by the mortal minutiae of shower and change into his pajamas before Tina and Hel- Christina Vadrudakis’s mind and memories, Sabriel’s rec- ena arrived. ollections of the ancient times were clouded, dim… dreamlike. “Hi, Daddy,” Tina said, giving him a solemn look. “Are But at night, when Christina’s brain quieted, the Elohim you all better?” within could remember the times before. She remembered “I’m still sick, but I’m almost better.” fragments only, but the world had been so much larger then, “What happened to your eye?” so much deeper and more complex, that even the pieces that “Daddy got an owie, sweetheart.” He pointed to the scab came in the night seemed more vivid and real than the world on his forehead. “A big owie.” of nickels and fast food and paperclips she moved through “What happened?” she asked, brown eyes wide. when awake. That petty place was Christina’s world. In “Yeah, Harvey. What did happen?” Helena was leaning dreams, Sabriel remembered her own. against a shelving unit with her arms crossed and a stern, She dreamed herself back on the broad, fertile plains calculating look on her face. Hasmed met her level gaze with known as the Grain Sea, standing at attention before one of his own. Archduchess Azacachia. Sabriel was far from alone, for “I fell,” he said. five hundred rebels had gathered for this attack. They “You fell.” Clearly, she didn’t believe him. were all volunteers, even though many knew that they He looked down at the top of Tina’s head, then back at would not return. her. “I fell,” he repeated. “My fellow soldiers,” Azacachia said. “Today, we face a “Uh huh. ’Cause I’d hate to think you fell in with Hamish mission of great danger—but also great glory. Our battles to Brennan and Dennis Porter and the rest of those—” date have been skirmishes only—inconclusive, unimportant, “Helena.” His voice was hard and icy. “I fell. End of story. little more than postures and poses. Why? Why have we been You got me?” unable to strike a decisive blow against the forces of ignorance “He fell!” Tina hollered. “Fell fell fell!” and repression? Because we were unwilling to trust the very Uncertain, Helena frowned and looked away. “I just people we rebelled to help! We were unwilling to look to worry about you, Harvey.” humanity for aid, though they may prove to have power even “I’ll be fine.” He scooped up Tina, then winced. “Ach, a seraph may fear. Now we prepare to embark on this great you’re gettin’ enormous, honey.” He turned back to Helena. experiment. Now we will see how great the power of Man can “Where are we goin’ to eat? My treat.” 47 46 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES be when we throw the might of His children against the “Excellent.” He turned and touched the shoulder of servants of God!” another of the fallen. “Avitu? Have you met Sabriel?” The soldiers before her cheered, raising swords and “Briefly.” Like Hasmed, Avitu was an angel of the wind scythes, clapping hands and wings. Her claws and feathers and life and protection. AND GREG glittering mica-black, Azacachia gestured for silence. “Avitu’s task is to protect you and the other praise lead- “We have trained for this. We have practiced our roles. I ers,” Gaviel explained. “She’ll take good care of you.” ANGEL know I can count on each one of you to acquit yourselves with “I know,” Sabriel said, grateful for his encouraging honor. Even should we fail, a bold failure will be more words. “It’s been explained before.” Avitu gave her a smile, glorious than any blind obedience to a tyrannical authority. and Sabriel smiled in return. But with courage and strength and the faith of our follow- “I’ve seen her in battle,” Gaviel said. “You’re in good WINGS ers… we will not fail!” hands.” Standing at the front of Sabriel’s unit was Hasmed the At that moment, Azacachia sounded her horn, and the Defender, plumed with wings of smoke, his flail and spear troops before her rose into the air as one. Hasmed, Gaviel ready for the coming conflict. With the rank of overlord, and the other attackers formed themselves into ranks, some Hasmed was her direct leader in this mission, though she circling the treetops, others high and distant like flocks of usually answered to another, a Lord of the House of Waves. birds. With a final nod, Avitu sprang into the middle dis- Hasmed’s unit was a combat unit—swift flyers and powerful tance, with Rabbadün the Seer of Time close by her side. warriors used for shock assaults. Sabriel was no fighter. Her Sabriel flew low to the shores of a river. On its other banks job was something entirely different. stood row upon row of mortals, milling anxiously, watching The mission was nothing less than an attempt to destroy the Elohim prepare for battle. Vejovis himself—a seraph of the Holy Host. As one of the With a gesture, Sabriel called the water up, twisting mightiest angels, Vejovis had once commanded Hasmed’s and braiding it into a great waterspout. With a hum in the loyalty, along with myriad other angels of the Firmament. depth of her throat, she calmed it into ice then settled atop But now his onetime servants raised arms against him, as they its chill spire. warred with the Host and the Choir and with the One Above “Beloved!” she called to the crowd below. “Now is your them all. time! As we have given unto you, now we beg your gifts for Sabriel only hoped that their new weapon would work as us! We who defied the Allmaker on your behalf now ask Azacachia thought. you to protect us from His vengeful servants. Only your “Are you one of the praise leaders?” Turning to see who faith can make us strong! Only your belief can make great spoke, Sabriel saw a figure of radiant light, glowing with the Vejovis weak!” glory that belonged only to the House of Dawn—and to those As she led them, the mortals began to sing. rejected from it. “Great Azacachia “Yes,” she said. “My name is Sabriel.” Lady of the earthy deep “I’m Gaviel. Is this your first time in battle?” As we learn your wisdom great “I won’t actually be fighting,” she said. Many blessings shall we reap. “With Vejovis, you never know. You won’t be attacking, but he sees far and strikes hard. Keep your wits about you.” “Vodantu who reads the stars “My danger is nothing compared to what you’ll face flying Master of the inky spheres to the attack.” Show us what the future holds Gaviel shrugged. “I just hope you can weaken him enough.” Answering our hopes and fears.” “If it can be done, I’ll do it.” 49 48 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES Watching the women and men, Sabriel saw them tremble immediately changed into water, rushing out in all direc- as one, heard their voices falter as a darkness fell on the land. tions. With a gesture of hand and wing, Sabriel turned the She turned—meaning only to glance over her shoulder—but wave before it could crash upon the mortals. the sight she beheld would not let her turn away. “Here!” she sang. “With me!” The water was calmed, but AND GREG Vejovis, King of the Tempest, had arrived. it now sank into the shore around them, turning the firm He hung above the plain like a mountain in the sky. The ground into mire and swamp, but they fought and swam and ANGEL dark clouds of his wings stretched across the horizon from struggled toward her—some still singing as they did. end to end, and in their charcoal depths, searing cracks of “BLASPHEMERS!” cried Vejovis. His tone was not one of lightning flickered. His eyes, the gray of storms, stared down anger, but rather shock and horror and boundless sorrow. with implacable judgment, and in a hand like a hillside was Daring to glance back at the battle again, Sabriel was amazed WINGS coiled a mighty whip. to see blood on the seraph’s face, falling like tears or rain to “Sing!” Sabriel shouted. “They need you! Only you can the ground below. His lash and lightning had felled dozens save them!” But faced with the sheer mass of one of God’s of rebels, but it was clear that they were hurting him too. mightiest servants, the words felt hollow in her throat. “Sabriel of Eastern Sea Azacachia—herself grown to the size of a granite cliff— Bless us all with tender love leapt to the air and howled defiance as she surged forward. With your caring we shall be Vejovis’s whip snaked across the sky, and its snap was thunder. Guarded from the wrath above.” The crash flattened the grass of the plains, blew the leaves off the trees, shook the feathers of every rebel angel arrayed against him… but Azacachia did not fall. She flinched, she As they prayed to her, Sabriel felt a flood of strength. It dropped for a heart-stopping moment, and then she recov- was dizzying, intoxicating, thrilling like nothing else. With ered, beating great wings of black stone as she continued only a twitch of an eye, she enslaved the floodwaters, depos- toward her foe. iting the struggling swimmers with gentle care. Her song Seeing Azacachia withstand the strike, the other attackers redoubled, knitting her followers tighter together, until they darted forward like a swarm of bees. They struck with fire and were no longer a collection of frightened, hopeful mortals with lightning and with the force of death itself. but something more. With her, they became a living well of Sabriel turned her eyes back to the mortals and sang faith, and she drank deeply of its delicious essence, never with them. Human only, their voices lacked her perfec- getting her fill. She felt as if she were swelling, expanding tion, but her sound could stitch together their disparate across the fields and into the sky, growing until the battle was tones, making their discords and wrong notes into part of merely a part of her. Vejovis was merely a mote in her eye. a greater harmony. She was distantly aware as Rabbadün told Avitu “Sabriel is his next target!” “We praise mighty Gaviel The bolt of godfire took only an instant to flash between Glory of the summer sun her and Vejovis, but Avitu was swifter still. Leaping to protect You have brought us truth and light her charge, the onetime Angel Defender blocked the brunt We adore you, radiant one.” of the strike. The weakened remnant that struck Sabriel was still seven times hotter than the surface of the sun, was still Vejovis’s thunder whip struck again, and this time, he strong enough to kill her and a dozen like her… save that she aimed at one of the other praise leaders. Avitu and Rabbadün had the mortal well of faith for protection. Drawing on that swooped in to block the blow, but they could only soften its store of strength, she rebuilt her body again and again, each force. The thunder of impact sent cracks through Sabriel’s time the fire consumed it, until the great angel’s rage was tower, and as the lash struck, its victim fell. Her tower of ice spent and she remained. 51 50 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES Avitu plunged to the ground like a stone. Peeking around the back door’s curtain, she could see a “Avitu!” Sabriel shrieked, and her scream was a song. pale and scrawny man in a dark sweatshirt and a stocking cap. “Sing for her, my people! Sing for your protector!” He was looking down, concentrating on his task. He had a “Avitu! Avitu! Avitu!” They had forgotten her verse, short crowbar and was digging between the door and frame AND GREG Sabriel was taking them out of their order, but their passion with it. She stepped back and waited. and fealty had its own momentum. When the door opened, she raised the camera and said, ANGEL “Avitu! Avitu! Avitu!” “Say cheese!” “Crap!” “…vitu…” Sabriel muttered, before slowly opening her As the flash went off, the burglar was so startled he eyes. Some urge, some human feeling, had awakened her. It instinctively threw up his hands. Since he was still holding the WINGS took her a moment to recognize it as hunger. She’d been in crowbar, he managed to strike himself right between the eyes. Christina’s body for months, and it felt natural during the Sabriel looked down at his unconscious form and mut- day. But at night, when she dreamed of the past or the ocean tered, “That was disappointingly easy.” or her onetime glory, waking suddenly confused her. She dragged him into the house then went to get her She slid out of her bed and padded down the dark hallway duct tape. to the kitchen. When the burglar woke up with a splitting headache, he When Christina had been a little girl, an uncle had told was firmly taped to a kitchen chair. A beautiful woman stood her how British anti-aircraft spotters in World War II would before him, barefoot, wearing a Def Leppard T-shirt that keep their eyes covered all day in order to preserve their night had been washed so often that it was faded gray and thin. It vision. Even at night (he said) they’d only keep one eye open came to her mid-thighs. when they turned the lights on. That way the other eye would “The funny thing is,” she said, “There wasn’t even any stay dark-adapted. film in the camera.” She had his wallet in her hands and was This had seemed eminently sensible to young Christina, shaking her head over the contents. and over the course of her lifetime, she’d gotten into the “So,” she said, “Your name really is Tommy Ramone?” habit of keeping one eye closed when turning lights on at “I go by Tom or Thomas,” he replied. night. Sabriel didn’t consciously realize it, but she now had “Okay, Tom or Thomas. Explain to me exactly what you this habit as well. When she opened the freezer door to get out were doing here.” a Mars bar, she squeezed her left eye shut. As the door closed, “Um, well, I was trying to break in.” the light went off and she opened her left eye again, once “And why? Were you planning to rape me, Thomas?” more seeing perfectly by the dim illumination of the “What?” streetlights outside. “Were you going to sneak into my bedroom and, I don’t As she opened the wrapper on the candy bar and took the know, hold me down and roll me over and fuck me? Was that first bite, she heard a noise. your plan?” She took a step closer to him and bent forward. She stopped chewing and tilted her head. There it was He could see the outline of her nipples through the thin, again. Someone was trying her back door. worn cloth. “No! I just, look, I was just going to rob your house. I Sabriel put the candy bar down and went through the living room toward the foyer. Her first thought was to kill mean, that was all! I didn’t think you were here! I mean I, the intruder—if he was merely mortal, it shouldn’t be too I looked in your garage, and your car was gone and every- tough. But she spotted her camera on the entertainment thing!” center and decided that it might be better to capture and “It broke down just today. Hope it’s not the transmis- blackmail him instead. She picked up the camera and sion.” She took a step back and gave him a thoughtful look. started charging the flash. “Your story checks out… kind of. You didn’t have a weapon 53 52 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES on you, other than that crowbar, and you didn’t have any- She deftly straddled him, sitting on his lap and facing thing to restrain me with. No condoms either. Though I him. She was still humming. As she sat, the T-shirt rode up don’t suppose rapists care much about safe sex, right?” to her hips, revealing her Hello Kitty panties. He recognized the tune—it was Sheena is a Punk Rocker. She put her hands “I wouldn’t know. Jesus! Honest, you, you gotta believe AND GREG me. I wasn’t… it wasn’t that. I just wanted to steal your stuff.” behind her on his knees, arched her back and shook her His voice had taken on a pleading tone. “Look, are you going breasts at him. ANGEL “Wouldn’t that just be the kinkiest thing ever?” she asked. to call the cops on me?” “Can you give me a good reason not to?” “I immobilize this horrible, nasty, creepy burglar in my own He slumped in his bonds. “Not really. Shit.” house and then fuck his brains out before turning him over She chuckled. “Oh Tommy. Do you think you’re going to the cops. Though it would be awfully hard to explain, WINGS to get off that easy?” wouldn’t it? Or I suppose I could fuck your brains out and “What?” then kill you. That’s tidier.” As his mouth opened with astonishment, she jammed a Tom looked like he couldn’t make up his mind between dishtowel into it. Then she gripped the chair by its back and crying, laughing or having hysterics. “You’re crazy!” he said started dragging him toward the cellar door. It was awkward at last. “Now Thomas, is that really the smart thing to say to the as the bottoms of the chair legs bumped down each step, and Thomas kept making noises of protest around his gag, but she woman holding all the cards?” She stood up again. She’d finally got him down below, into a concrete room lit by a decided this was really a bit of luck. The Kowalski project was single naked bulb. just about finished, and she’d been wondering what to do Sabriel checked the basement’s three windows. All had next. This Tommy Ramone could be useful, or amusing at fairly strong bars, and their faded yellow print curtains easily the very least. Maybe when she was done, she’d see if she could blocked the view from outside. contact Avitu. “Be right back,” she said as she ran up the stairs for a “Look, you could just let me go. I wouldn’t tell anyone. length of clothesline. When she returned, she was actually Please?” humming. Tom had managed to spit his gag out. “Now why would I do that? Did you tell anyone you were “You can’t do this!” he declared. coming here? No? So no one knows where you are, there’s “Why not?” nothing to link you to me, and it’s unlikely that I’ll ever get “Well… well, kidnapping is illegal!” caught. I can keep you down here and live out whatever Silence of the Lambs fantasies cross my mind.” “So’s housebreaking.” She paused to pat him on the cheek before running rope from the top of the chair up over “Oh Christ…” the ceiling beams. There. That would keep him from tipping She’d procured a hard plastic tube from upstairs—it was the chair over and moving toward the stairs—or toward actually a part of an espresso maker—and she pried his jaw anything that might help him cut the tape. Just for safety’s open as a prelude to ramming it in. sake, she tied him with some rope on top of the tape. “Hey, how’m I gonna go to the bathroom?” he asked, “Why are you doing this?” right before she stuck in the tube and started duct-taping it “Why did you break into my house?” in place. “Jesus, I was just going to steal your TV and stereo!” “Oh, I figured I’d just let you shit your pants for a few “You wanted something from me, and I want something days,” she replied brightly. “Now, blink once if you’d like the from you. Hey, you think I should screw you?” light left on, and twice if you want it off.” “What?!?” 55 54 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES In Toronto, another young criminal was having an en- The thing pulled its shirt open and Gordy saw a new counter with a different Elohim. The criminal’s name was horror. It had no skin, no guts. Its ribs were like the black bars of a cage. Inside the cage there were… things. Little figures. Gordy Hines, and the cast-out angel was called Usiel. Little people, only all made of fire, making tiny, tinny noises Normally, Usiel looked like a rather small, slender AND GREG black man, bald as an egg. For his business with Gordy of misery. They clutched the bars, trying to escape, little faces Hines, however, he had put on the full grandeur of his twisted and screaming… ANGEL supernatural form. “YOU SHALL JOIN THEM,” it said, and its whisper sounded Gordy was screaming and pissing himself, which did not like locusts in corn. “YOU SHALL SERVE ME A WHILE BETWEEN surprise Usiel one bit. A normal man—or even an abnormal YOUR DEATH AND YOUR FINAL JUDGMENT. BELIEVE ME, NO MATTER one like Gordy, a teenage murderer, a hardened criminal HOW YOU SUFFER IN MY SERVICE, IT IS NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT WINGS who’d seen enough bloodshed for a man four times his age— AWAITS YOU AFTER.” is not used to seeing a person get taller and gaunter before his The burning, stony fingers were gouging his throat, eyes, seeing him suddenly backed with wings of ash and pressing one of his eyes, and he fought like a cornered hare smoke, seeing his skin tighten until it seems to vanish en- fights a wolf. But his fingers did no more to the burned bones tirely. The apparition before him was seven feet tall, a than they had done to the concrete beneath him. “Oh shit, oh fuck oh fuck…” skeleton made of burnt ebony bones, but these bones glowed with deep cores of hot flame lurking within. “DIE MISERABLE. DIE SMALL. DIE KNOWING THAT GOD IS “HINES,” the monster said, pointing one skinless finger. JUST.” “YOU HAVE KILLED. THE MARK OF MURDER IS ON YOUR SOUL. With a final gasp, Gordy Hines perished. TRULY YOU ARE A FALLEN MAN.” For a moment, a new shape was visible in the cage of Gordy didn’t really give a shit what the voice—that hor- Usiel’s ribs. rible voice, like a circular saw in hard wood—was saying. He Then the monster shrank and became normal, and the just wanted to get away. Every instinct, every nerve and brain fire within him cooled. cell was screaming at him that this was death, that he had to When he walked away, Usiel was an ordinary Canadian escape, had to flee, no matter what. But he was backed in a man. A little shorter than most, and completely bald. But few corner with bricks behind him and concrete beneath him. would spare his body—Clive Keene’s body—a second look. He scrabbled at them, breaking fingernails, mewing like a kitten in abject fear. In Wyoming, a man named Teddy Mason sat up in bed, “YOU DID NOT KILL TO DEFEND YOURSELF, NOR FOR HONOR, suddenly awake, breathing heavily. NOR EVEN FOR REVENGE. INSTEAD, YOU ROBBED ONE OF GOD’S He’d had that dream again. CHILDREN OF HER MOST PRECIOUS GIFT OUT OF NOTHING BUT As his racing heart gradually slowed, he looked around SULLEN, DRUNKEN SPITE.” the darkened bedroom. His dresser. His pants draped over Trapped, Gordy huddled in a fetal ball, whimpering. a bulging laundry bin. The door into the bathroom. Picture “Oh shit,” he sobbed. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit…” frames on the walls, and he couldn’t see the pictures but The skeleton seized Gordy’s long hair and pulled with didn’t need to. Pictures of himself, his wife Birdie, his son enough strength to lift the boy off the ground. Hines howled Lance. He was home. as the pressure pulled his head free of its huddle, forcing him Everything was sane and normal. face to face with the nightmare before him. He looked at his wife, who was lying on her stomach with “MANY IN YOUR POSITION CRY OUT TO GOD,” it said “BUT her head turned away from him. YOU INVOKE ONLY FILTH. FITTING. YOU’VE MADE YOURSELF INTO “Birdie?” he whispered. She rolled a little. EXCREMENT, A WORTHY CITIZEN FOR THIS FECULENT WORLD.” “Birdie?” 57 56 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “What is it?” she grumbled. “Mr. Hal. Hal. I’m sorry, I just…” Nate chuckled ner- “I had that dream again.” vously and took a sip of his drink. It was spring water. He “Oh for Christ’s sake.” hadn’t dared get alcohol—he was too nervous. He was too “I’m sorry, but you know it upsets me.” terrified by his high hopes as he did lunch with the man from AND GREG “Can’t you save it for your shrink?” Sony Classics. “This is what I’ve wanted since I was little. I mean, a little kid. All I ever wanted was to be a classical pianist, “Fine.” ANGEL and now I get to play with the MSO, and a record…” He rolled away from her and stared off into the dark. She sighed. “This is the best part of the job, Mr. Kowalski.” They’d been married for twenty years, and a sigh could “Nate! I mean, if you’re Hal, I should certainly be Nate. Oh this is such good news. I didn’t think you were going to… communicate a lot. This one said, “Look, I’m sorry I don’t WINGS have the patience to listen to this, and I’m sorry you’re upset, I’m babbling, aren’t I?” but I’ve heard about that stupid dream dozens of times, and “It’s all right. After dealing with so many blasé prima I just do not have any sympathy left on that subject. Now donnas, a little enthusiasm is a splendid change of pace.” either we can both lie here angry and miserable and sleepless, “You’re too kind.” or we can make up and at least I’ll be in a better mood come “No, I mean it. You’ve got a freshness to your approach morning.” that really brightens your work. I’m thinking an album of He grimaced, but thinking about it there was really no way mostly major key stuff. That’s okay, right? Something broad he could make her care. and upbeat to start with.” “I’m sorry I woke you,” he mumbled. “Um… well, okay, I guess.” She turned until she was on her back and reached over to “You sound hesitant.” touch his shoulder. “No, that’s fine. Maybe even some Gershwin or some- “It’s okay Ted. I just… I mean, I thought you were going thing?” to get better with…” she bit her lip. Finishing that sentence “We don’t need to go that far.” He chuckled. could easily, easily lead to a lot more discussion, not less. “I was so scared I screwed up the other night…” “With everything,” he said. “Well, I won’t lie to you. I was disappointed.” “Yeah.” Nate looked up with the frozen expression of a fawn in headlights. “Oh, I knew it!” he cried. “I should have spent “I thought so too.” The way he said it was so sad, so… forlorn, really, that more time getting ready!” Birdie momentarily forgot her goal of going back to sleep and “No, no, there’s no need for such self-recrimination. rolled over all the way to hug him. Lots of people get flustered in front of a live audience. I’m “It’s okay,” she whispered, and they both eventually got sure you’ll do much better in a studio, where you can back to sleep. concentrate.” “Usually I prefer a live audience…” But it wasn’t okay. He shrugged. “Well, what’s done is done. It’s out of my hands now, but I’m very optimistic. We just have to get Mr. “Do you mean it?” Nate’s voice was radiant with hope Hoshida’s permission, and I’ll be able to give you a contract and fear. within a week. Maybe as soon as tomorrow… though perhaps “Well, now, the ink isn’t dry on any contracts yet.” you shouldn’t get your hopes up.” “I know, I know, I don’t… don’t want to get ahead of “Why? You think Mr. Hoshida won’t like my demo?” myself. But Mr. Guelder…” “Hal.” 59 58 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Mr. Hoshida does have very specific opinions about known as an “avatar” and that, with time and training, Max music—a particular vision for where he wants Sony Classics to would be able to tie his own will to it so firmly that together, go. But you probably don’t have anything to worry about.” his twin souls could mold reality itself. “Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t hope too hard.” In a word, Claus had taught him magic. AND GREG “Oh, Mr. Kowalski, I just meant you shouldn’t get your He had been Claus’s apprentice for many years and, hopes up about tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Goodness, I eventually, the older man’s lover as well. Max hadn’t felt any ANGEL particular physical chemistry—certainly no affection—but he apologize. By all means, get your hopes up about the con- tract. You’ve earned it.” knew it would make Claus happy, and he felt like he owed the After lunch, Guelder paid cash and watched the musician old man something. walk away. Then he checked his watch and clucked his tongue. Eventually, they drifted apart. Max felt he had suffi- WINGS It was just about time to check on Tommy. He’d have to cient control over his avatar and its powers, while Claus change in the car. tried to hold him back and keep him as a protected He was not, of course, Hal Guelder. He was Sabriel in student. Claus was powerful: His school was located in a Hal’s shape. By the time she parked in front of her home, she different world entirely, one that could be reached only was Angela Meyerhoff once more. when strong magic opened the way. Max had been stub- born, though, and he’d gone off on his own, with friends his own age who were all determined to shake up the old Max Hirniesen was a man with two souls. order of things and install something new and better. One was an ordinary soul (or so he supposed) much like Something more free and more true. those of other men. It was a soul that felt love and hate, fear Davis, Magdalena, Shannon and Max. He was the only and anger, humor and contentment. It made him human, one left. but it was his alone, and it existed isolated within him, formed They had fought against men with guns and wicked and informed only by the shaping of his senses. Like everyone magic, all the time telling themselves that they were fighting else (it seemed) his soul was aloof and uniquely his. ignorance and oppression. They had battled twisted, un- His second soul was different. earthly spirits in strange spaces that no normal man could He had become aware of it when he was a freshman in high reach—always convinced that they were dueling with mad- school, and he’d thought for a while that he was going insane. ness and evil incarnate. The other soul had feelings too. Sometimes he sensed tow- In hindsight, the apex of their adventures had been when ering anger or aching loss from it, but the causes of these Max had gotten the scythe. Or, as it was now shaped, the ring. powerful emotions were mysteries to him. Things he looked Looking out the train window as Toronto neared, Max at—things that were normal and ordinary and common- twisted the gray iron band on his finger—or was it iron after place—had different meanings to the alien spirit within. all? Was it silver or chrome or hematite? The color seemed The most important difference, however, was that his to shift from bright to dark as the light changed on its surface. second soul was not isolated. It could touch the world directly When he’d seen it first, it had been a great, fearful scythe. and be touched by it in turn. When it reached out in anger, The Abyssal Monk had raised it against them in anger, and cars rusted before his eyes, people tripped and hurt them- after they’d killed him, Shannon and Davis had wanted to selves, and plants became blighted. When it was pleased, destroy his weapon as well. It was unholy, they said. It reeked though, it could gift him with freakish good luck, protect him of death. from harm and even clear up gloomy weather. But Max knew better. Certainly the scythe had some lethal Max had been seventeen when he met Claus Merrow, vibrations, but it was more than that. His avatar stirred within another man with two souls. Claus had taught him that their him when he looked at it, and he knew that the scythe was also double spirits were a great blessing, that the second was a tool of change of renewal and of release. Not only a weapon, 61 60 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES it was a bridge between the lands of the living and the domain for Max’s assistance before the winds of the storm split even of the dead. their voices apart. He had wanted it, so he had quarreled with Davis and For the first time since he’d been a teenager, Max was Shannon. In the end, they let him keep it. alone. AND GREG Eventually, he had shown it to Claus, who was profoundly In time, the world seemed to calm down—or, at least the impressed. Claus unlocked some of the scythe’s deeper obvious world did. In the realms beyond, chaos still ruled ANGEL secrets for his student, telling him it was ancient and power- from a hurricane throne. Max had sought others like him- ful—older than mankind, perhaps. Claus had also worked the self, but the few he found were either concentrating solely on relatively minor trick of giving it a second form—the ring— survival or had even less knowledge and power than himself. that made it much easier for Max to keep it on his person at His meeting with Penelope in New York City had WINGS all times. seemed like blind luck, but she’d given him hope. Perhaps The ring and scythe enhanced his powers over decay and this Clive Keene she’d told him to look up understood what destruction (which were already reliable) and also aided was going on. him greatly in his dealings with the spirit world. Souls of the Perhaps Clive Keene could explain. dead might not know what the scythe was, but they could feel its power. Sabriel bent over Thomas Ramone and pulled the duct Having the scythe made him proud. Pride was his undo- tape off his cheeks. “So!” she said, smiling as she pulled out ing. the tube, “How’s your Stockholm Syndrome coming?” Confident that only he and his allies were going to change He looked up at her with frightened eyes. He had not had the world, Max was caught unprepared when the world any water for thirteen hours. His mouth and nose were dry changed beneath him. It took the shape of a tempest—a great and cracked, and his face was gaunt with fear and misery. As monsoon in Bangladesh that was merely the herald of some he blinked and focused on the sloshing bucket she held, he greater disturbance, some colossal malevolence—perhaps developed a ghastly look of hope. one as old as the ring. He and his friends had gone to fight it, “P-please…” He tried to wet his mouth to speak, but his with no real grasp of the scope of the event. dry tongue only rasped over dry teeth and dry lips. The tempest in the world of matter had killed thousands, “Do you even know what Stockholm Syndrome is?” maybe a million, but it was nothing next to the storms in the Dully, he shook his head. other worlds. A twisted wind of decay and horror blasted “Stockholm Syndrome is when a kidnap victim comes to through the realm of the dead, shattering ancient civiliza- identify with his or her kidnapper. Like Patty Hearst, re- tions and disgorging horrors undisturbed for millennia. In member her? The Something-Something Liberation Army the secret spaces plied by the double-souled, a whirlwind of grabbed her, and pretty soon she was robbing banks right at insanity and unchecked power swept untold numbers of their side. Do you think you might come to love and adore unprepared avatars off to destruction or into realms un- me, eventually?” charted by human minds. He just stared. His only expression was utter confusion. The engines of reality had gone mad, and he watched “Would you love me if I gave you water?” Davis and Magdalena and Shannon fall into the whirling “Please… please, Miss…” He nodded desperately. gears one by one, where they were torn apart by the thrashing “Well, too bad. This water is for cleaning you up. Mm, of fevered worlds. you made quite a mess of yourself, didn’t you?” With confi- He called upon Claus for help, only to get a fuzzy, dent movements and a sharp pair of scissors, Sabriel made distorted plea for aid in return. Claus—his teacher, his short work of his pants and soiled underwear. It required master, the opener of mysteries—had desperately screamed some shifting and some strength to wipe and wash him 63 62 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES without untying or untaping him, but after ten humiliating “Angie, who was… Wasn’t that Nate, Nate whatsisname? minutes she was done. Kowalski? The pianist?” Tom’s body shook with sobs, but he had no tears. “Uh huh.” Sabriel wasn’t looking at him. She was putting “Oh, there, there. Don’t cry, Tommy. Look, would you on her panties. (Red silk today.) AND GREG want me to give you this water now?” She held up the bucket. “Well? What was he doing here?” The water within was cloudy and foul with his own feces. “This is where he lives.” ANGEL “I thought this was your place!” Wretchedly, he nodded. “That’s not very healthy.” She shook her head and took “Nope.” the bucket upstairs. “But… but you had a key!” Hal was looking more and In the cellar, Thomas sat and moaned, more miserable more confused. WINGS than he’d ever been in his life. “I do. He gave it to me when we became lovers.” “When we… wait, you mean when you and him…?” Five minutes later, she came back and gave him four ounces of tap water. “Got it in one.” Moving efficiently, Sabriel was now He had never been so grateful. almost completely dressed. “Then what was… why…?” “Hal, think it through, please. Obviously, I brought you The next day, Sabriel glanced impatiently at the clock on here to make him unhappy.” Nathaniel’s VCR. Timing the next act of her carefully planned “But we—” drama was going to be very tricky. The window of opportunity “Come on. You didn’t really buy all that ‘Oh Hal, I love was wide enough, certainly, but it was finite. If Nate didn’t get your cock, ooh, I just can’t get enough of that big meaty cock’ home soon… business, did you?” Then she glanced over at the door and saw the deadbolt She watched as his face turned ashen, then she laughed start to turn. She smiled. her lovely laugh. “Harder,” she muttered. “C’mon. Harder. Do it now! “Oh, you did! That’s too much!” Yes! Oh yeah, uhhh…” “Why would you do this?” Nate opened the door to see Angela, naked and flushed, “Why do you care? You got the best sex of your life, for bending over the arm of his futon. Behind her, with his pale nothing. Can’t you just leave it at that? Can’t you keep your belly sagging on top of Angela’s lovely backside, was Hal nose out of something that’s none of your business?” Guelder. “But that poor kid!” (This was, of course, the real Hal Guelder, who had never “Well, you could tell your wife all about it if you really feel met Nate. He had listened to Nate’s demo and said, “Maybe guilty. I’m sure she’d give you plenty of penance.” Shoes tied, when he’s had a few years to mature.” He had also been blouse buttoned, Sabriel paused to fluff her wild hair and astonished that a woman as gorgeous as Angela was interested then sashayed toward the door. “Lock up after you put your in him.) pants on, okay?” “Fuck me,” Angela gasped. “Oh, use me. I’m your “But…” whore!” Her eyes were seemingly closed in bliss, but she had “Oh, and you might want to watch your back. I think Nate them cracked just enough to catch Nate’s look of absolute might have a real mean streak. It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t shock, absolute horror. For a moment, the young pianist was it?” just frozen. Then he turned and ran. Then she was gone. “What? What…?” Hal was clearly confused, but a few expertly timed bumps from her rump was enough to bring him off. Afterward, though, he had questions. Later, she found herself telling Tom about it and frowning. 65 64 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “I mean, I set this up for close to a month, and it came off Maybe I need to take a wider approach. It’s not enough to take just like I planned, only… I don’t know.” She’d brought a away genius. Perhaps if I exalt crap… now that’s a good second kitchen chair down to the cellar and sat upon it, knees revenge. Yeah. It’s not like human culture isn’t sliding into crossed, eating fried chicken from a red and white box. a midden heap already. I’ll just grease the skids.” She stood. AND GREG Thomas just stared at the food. He hadn’t eaten in forty- “Thanks, Tommy. You’ve been really helpful. I’ll take a eight hours, though she had given him another eight ounces couple days, get a new identity, and go to Hollywood.” ANGEL of water. She kissed him on the cheek, then left him. “It wasn’t a complete waste of time, like that thing with He groaned. Maryanne Prisco. Did I tell you about her? No? Just a project I did with this devil from Missouri, a politician. It turned out Max wasn’t surprised that Clive Keene lived in a rundown WINGS really, really bad. I mean, at least with Nate there was a payoff. house. He’d seen mystic types living everywhere from He had talent, there’s no doubt about that,” Sabriel said, dumpsters to otherworldly fairy palaces. He didn’t have nibbling a bit of breading off the tip of a drumstick bone. much left in the way of expectations. “And he’s pretty much ruined, now. The first time I met him, He swallowed, then rang the bell. I noticed some long, thin scars on the insides of his wrists, so When a scowling, short, bald black man answered the I’m figuring he’ll go back and finish the job.” Her voice was door, Max stuck out his hand and said, “Hello. I’m Max chillingly casual. “I’ve denied the world his music. So why Hirniesen.” don’t I feel good?” He had a speech ready in his mind—a variation on the one Thomas shrugged, as much as he was able. he’d used with other avatar-holders. It started out mysteri- Inside Sabriel, there was another flare-up from Chris- ous, became enticing, hinted that he could offer plenty of tina. At first, the ghost of Christina’s feelings had gotten a information in return for the few piddling details he was deep, mean pleasure from Thomas’s predicament, but the missing, and ended with a frank and flattering suggestion of weaker and sadder he got, the more hesitant and ambivalent alliance. He wasn’t sure he’d get through the whole spiel she became. Sabriel crushed those unworthy feelings. Typi- today, but if Clive didn’t seem receptive, he could play it cally human—unwilling to go the distance even in revenge. It haughty and aloof, wait for the other fellow to come to him. had been just the same with Nate. They almost always did, in the end. “Maybe it’s because no one knows,” Sabriel said. “Maybe But as his mouth was opening, his eyes registered the that’s why I’m telling you, so you can appreciate humankind’s other man’s stare. Keene wasn’t looking at Max. He was loss. But… ah, it’s so frustrating. Running around from one staring at the ring, and his expression was one of amazement. artist to the next, dashing hopes, wrecking dreams. It’s And disgust. repetitive. Too easy, really. And no one misses them.” She Furthermore, Max felt instant loathing boil up from his took a bite of a biscuit and made a face. “Uh, that’s nasty. You avatar. Whatever or whoever Keene was, Max’s second soul want this?” despised him. Tom nodded weakly, his stomach rumbling loudly. “Where did you get that?” Clive hissed, reaching out for “Too bad.” She chucked it off into a dark corner of the Max’s right hand. Max snatched it away, but the black man room. “Maybe I’ll give it to you after the ants and spiders get grabbed him by the shoulder and rudely yanked him into the at it a while.” She sighed again. “Perhaps I just need to aim house. For a small man, he was surprisingly strong. higher. You know? Maybe denying people brilliance just “What can you tell me about it?” Max countered, step- isn’t enough. Nathaniel was brilliant, you know. Could have ping back and protecting the ring behind his back. been another Caruso or Bernstein, if he got the chance.” She “I can tell you it belongs to me,” Clive replied, his lip ran a greasy finger over her lip. “You know, maybe that’s it. curled with revulsion. 67 66 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Perhaps it did once, but…” Again, Max’s words failed. blade on one end. A simple thing, really, or at least a simple The other man’s eyes had shifted up to Max’s face, and the form. But it was not a construct of wood and metal. It was look of loathing had redoubled. shaped shadow. The blade was dark division in physical “What are you?” Keene asked, in the tone of a man who form, and the smooth, cool dim of the shaft had a feel like AND GREG finds a cockroach in his birthday cake. nothing solely material. “I could ask you the same question.” It was wonderfully light and strong, and it howled as Max ANGEL Clive’s answer was to open his mouth and spit. Only it spun it through the air around him. He was vaguely aware wasn’t saliva that emerged: It was a whining, flaming spirit. It that Keene was doing something, something hard to see flew out and darted at Max. past the glare of shorn ghosts and the light-drinking dark- Max instinctively flinched back, waving the hand with ness of the blade that cut them. He turned and sliced with WINGS the ring through the spirit. It dissolved instantly—that’s precision and grace, and the six petty specters were exiled how Max knew it was weak. He’d fought some old ghosts in from the matter lands. his time, terrifying and powerful creatures, but this wasn’t Max barely had time to get the scythe up into a guard one of them. It was a small phantom, recently dead, impo- position before he saw the bleak horror his enemy had tent and inexperienced. The touch of the ring/ scythe was become. He took a breath, stepped to a good angle and swung sufficient to sever it from the living world and fling it, his weapon at the skull-faced monster before him. howling, into death. Keene—or the thing that had been Clive Keene—swept Max concluded that he’d been set up and figured it was forward, propelled on a gust of smoke by charcoal wings. Its time for the gloves to come off. His left hand curled into a fist bony left arm blocked the haft of the weapon… and pistoned forward into the other man’s gut. It wasn’t just …and Max felt the sickle shift in his grasp. Where once his a punch, it was a punch backed by his avatar. A punch that grip had been sure and firm, now the shaft was numbingly would find the most vulnerable point and strike it with the chill, slipping away as Keene pulled it from him. His heart perfect degree of force and finesse. To a black-belt martial had a moment to lurch in fear as he realized that the blade had somehow switched sides—was coming toward his hand—and artist, it would be a lucky shot, one in a hundred. Max could do it with 99% accuracy. he tried to let go, but it was too late. The edge, with sharpness The black man crumpled forward as the xiphoid cartilage a razor would envy, sheared through his fingers like a warm at the low end of his sternum cracked off and jabbed into his spoon entering ice cream. The cut was so clean he felt little heart. His eyes rolled and a grunt emerged from his throat, pain, just a buzzing emptiness. but the grunt was accompanied by more of the small ghosts— “WHAT ARE YOU?” the creature demanded again. at least a half dozen. They flew at Max and made their inept “MERELY HUMAN, BUT WITH A PIECE OF A DEAD ANGEL’S SPIRIT assaults, trying to gouge his eyes, trying to set his clothes on CAPTURED WITHIN? HOW HAS THIS HAPPENED? HOW HAVE YOU fire, trying to frighten or confuse or even possess him. To a STOLEN OUR POWER?” normal man, they’d be terrifying, but for his second soul they “It’s mine,” Max whispered. He stumbled back, clutching were just old hat. his mangled hand, willing the blood vessels closed, willing his Still, they were irritating, and it didn’t pay to underesti- body out of shock. “It’s my other half. We belong together.” mate even fledgling wraiths. Max decided to use the scythe. “USURPER!” Keene swung its stolen—or reclaimed?— “If this was once yours…” he said, as it changed from weapon through the air, and Max had to drop flat to his ring to weapon in his hand, “…you should fear it enough to stomach to avoid the blow. back off!” “CANNIBAL!” The scythe hummed, it sounded hungry The artifact’s scythe shape—it’s original, true shape— somehow, and as Max saw his enemy ready another blow, he was a slender pole six feet long, with a curved twelve-inch knew he could not dodge it again. Desperate, he reached out 69 68 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND V STOLZE ASHES to open a portal away, trying to get to another space, any- where. He knew that the spiritual storm could kill him or chapter sweep him away forever, but he feared it less than the scythe in the skeleton’s hands. AND GREG But the wall between worlds was so thick that he could not tunnel through. He rolled, he squirmed, but the blade struck ANGEL him true. Immediately, Max was outside himself, shaking and shud- five dering like a flag in a gale. He could see his body sprawled on the floor of Keene’s home and he knew he wasn’t dead… yet. WINGS The creature had simply driven his soul from his still-living flesh, he could reclaim it if he could only fight the tempest winds and return. A normal soul would cling with only its own strength. But Max Hirniesen had help, the allied spirit laced through his body and through his essence, it served and saved and loved him, pulling him back… Hasmed dropped out of sight for a couple of days after …And then he saw the black bone creature cutting it. burying Mikey Diamond, then he went to pay Dennis “UNHOLY MONSTER!” Keene bellowed. “IS YOUR LUST FOR Porter a visit. Dennis had been Harvey’s bookie, before. He HUMANKIND SO STRONG THAT YOU CAN PERVERT DEATH ITSELF?” operated out of a diner that had no visible name, just a Pepsi Somehow, the creature was cutting Max’s avatar away sign that said 3 egg & Bacon special. The special had been from him with the scythe. He knew such spiritual divorces up as long as anyone could remember. Once it had read 3 were possible, but he’d never expected to fall victim to one. eggs but the last letter had fallen off during a windstorm. The fear of his avatar was heightened into panic as the You could still see where it had been, because the plastic hellish creature unwound it, piece by piece, from everything behind it was so much brighter than the dingy gray back- that was Max Hirniesen. ground. Max knew he had only one choice. He gathered the last of As Hasmed entered, two uniformed policemen were his strength into a final effort and stilled his body’s heart. talking to Dennis. The three men laughed, and the police Whatever fate he would face, he and his second soul would turned to go. face it together. “Hey, Harv,” one of them said. “Heard about your World Series bet.” He snickered. Hasmed gave him a tired nod and passed on toward Far away, a woman named Betsy Smith went a whole day Dennis. without taking a single drink of alcohol. She took this as proof “Harvey!” Dennis said, surprised. “What you doin’ here?” that she didn’t really have a problem and that she didn’t really “Can’t a man come speak to his old buddy?” need to make any changes in her life. “Sure, Harv, sure,” Dennis replied. He had a nervous A man named Jake Steubbens, who was faced with the loss look on his face. He peered closer at his guest and scratched of his berth at a homeless shelter, decided to really make an his arm through his sweater. “What’s… uh, what’s going on?” attempt with this AA business. Before that, he’d just been “Well, d’you hear about Mikey Diamond?” going through the motions. Dennis looked uncomfortable and glanced at the two cops as they got into their prowl car. 71 70 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “I heard he’s, um, kind of missing.” Harv. I know you ain’t got the money, but I gotta at least get “Kind of, yeah.” the vig.” Dennis swallowed. “I don’t owe you anything.” “Now you’re really talking crazy.” “You don’t… know what happened to him, do you?” AND GREG Hasmed shrugged and tipped back his hat. “I know he Hasmed explained his point of view, and Dennis actu- shot me in the forehead.” ally laughed in his face. But the next day—when Dennis saw ANGEL “Jesus, Mary and fuck!” his debtor already waiting in the hospital as he was brought “Uh huh. I know he was gone when I came to. And I in for what would later be diagnosed as pneumonia—Den- know I died on the operating table not long after that.” nis had a change of heart. “Harvey, you’re… jeez man, you’re not making sense. He couldn’t talk with the respirator tube down his WINGS You’re talkin’ crazy.” throat, but he could write notes in a shaky, spidery script. I can’t cancel your debt. Talk to Vietnam Ham. “Oh, I came back. They, whatsitcalled… they resusci- tated me. But I was dead for three minutes.” He took off his sunglasses and gave Dennis the full effect Hamish “Vietnam Ham” Brennan could usually be found of his bloody red glare. Dennis shrank back in his booth. in the MacTavish Tavern, better known regionally as “the “Man, Harvey, I’m… I’m real sorry…” Mac.” It had been called that since the 1960s, and when the “Don’t be.” local black kids started using “mack” to mean something “W-what you mean?” entirely different, it made the regulars at MacTavish shake “I mean being dead—even for just three minutes—it’s their heads and mutter, and privately feel very old. Except for real interesting. A real eye opener.” Vietnam Ham, of course. He lived by the chestnut that “a “Harvey, you’re…” man is only as old as the woman he feels.” By that measure, “I see things now, Dennis. I can see shit you can’t Hamish Brennan had fluctuated between 42 and 17 for the imagine. The future. Little bits of the past. The secret ways last forty years. stuff’s hooked together. It’s really somethin’.” “One day, I was out in da boosh,” Ham was saying as “You ain’t makin’ sense.” Hasmed entered the bar. “An’ I spied one of da Cong, but “Oscar Phelps bet a C-note on Lucky Shirt in the sixth he din’ see me. So real quiet, I sneak up behind him, put race tomorrow, but Lucky Shirt’s gonna perform poorly. one hand over his mouth, and jam my knife right up his You got asthma and you keep kidding yourself that it ain’t ass.” Hamish demonstrated with a gesture, then gave a emphysema, but tomorrow you’re gonna have a bad attack nostalgic chuckle. “He died.” that winds up getting diagnosed as pneumonia. Mikey Hamish Brennan had been a pushy, no-good street punk Diamond ran off to Florida and is planning to head south in the 1960s. In 1967, at the age of 17, he lied about his age to where dollars buy you a lot of heroin, ’cause he’s been to get into the army. There, his boundless energy and hiding a habit for a while. If you look under the gun cabinet cheerful willingness to kill got him accepted into the Green in his house, you’ll find some smack he forgot while he was Berets. He was honorably discharged after serving two tours clearing out.” of duty, and he returned home to New Jersey. The same “Harvey, you’re making no sense. Cut it out!” physical fitness, alertness and can-do attitude that doomed a “Wait an’ see.” number of black-clad Vietnamese soldiers quickly endeared “This is just some freaky trick,” Dennis said, but he was Ham to the local dons. Plus, of course, he told great stories clearly unnerved and agitated. He stuck out his chin. “Some about killing Charlie. trick to get out of the money you owe. You act like you know His heyday as a bone-breaker and hired killer was long everything, but you made a stupid-ass play on the Series, past, but as he’d aged, he’d matured as well. He could kill, 73 72 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES it was true, but unlike many in his profession, he could but there was something else. Something that reminded think up options other than killing. With nothing to prove, Hamish of rain and heat and close death in the jungle. he could let things slide, and that ability to compromise— Something in him bespoke a fellow warrior—someone alongside organizational and tactical skills honed in the who had seen much and suffered much and caused much AND GREG Army—eventually earned him a place as a heavily connected suffering in turn. guy in the local family crime syndicate. “Why, exactly, ought I do that?” ANGEL Since he was not Italian, Hamish was not (and could Hasmed explained his reasoning. Hamish laughed, and never be) a made guy, but he was successful. He had money, it was more polite than when Dennis did. Vietnam Ham was he had girlfriends who suited his many moods, and he was genuinely amused. He still had no intention of dropping a silent partner in his favorite tavern. All in all, he was pretty the debt, though, and he said so. WINGS content. He hadn’t even had to kill anyone since he’d “I knew you wouldn’t,” Hasmed said. “Not just be- turned forty-four. cause it’s right. So I’ll give you another reason.” He Dennis Porter was one of Hamish’s lesser underlings. stepped closer, and the two thugs behind him closed their Small potatoes, but one doesn’t become an experienced positions. All he did was tip back his hat and lower his mobster by ignoring small matters. They can turn into big sunglasses, however. matters unexpectedly. “I am not the man I was, sir,” Hasmed told him quietly. “Mr. Brennan?” “I have died and returned from the dead. I have seen what Hamish turned from his associate (a pimp from up- lies on the other side. I think part of me is still there—still dead—because I can see from the other side in, too.” state New York) and frowned. It wasn’t an angry frown. It was a “Now, who the hell are you again?” frown. Then his “Really.” face cleared. “I can see the sciatica that torments you, no matter how “Harvey, isn’t it? Harvey Shoolee, Shooleo, something much you try to hide it. I can see that this man,” he jerked like that? I hear you made an ignorant fookin’ call on the a thumb at a thug behind him without looking “is going to World Series.” be injured in an accident within twenty-four hours. I can “I thought the Cubs were due.” see that this other fellow,” indicated with a nod of his head “Aye, well. What brings you to th’ Mac?” “has just picked up a case of syphilis.” “Dennis Porter sent me.” “You little…” The supposedly syphilitic bruiser reached “Did he, now?” Hamish turned his body to face Hasmed, forward and grabbed Hasmed by the shoulder, but the and his eyes flicked left and right. From the dim recesses of smaller man shrugged out of his grip and stepped forward the Mac, two bulky shapes materialized. to whisper in Vietnam Ham’s ear. “He told me you could forgive me my debt.” “I know which of your mistresses is pregnant, and I can Hamish chuckled. “You make me sound like a priest, tell you who the father is.” lad. ‘Forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors,’ right? Hamish shoved him back, and everything jolly was gone But even if I could do that—not sayin’ I can, not sayin’ I from his face. can’t—I’m not exactly in the forgiveness business.” “You’re a regular fortune-teller, then.” He looked at “This debt you ought to let go.” his two men. “Hold him,” he said, reaching into his coat Hamish peered at Hasmed. He’d met Ciullo a couple pocket for his brass knuckles. times before—a small man, not in size, but in spirit. This Even in his fifties, Vietnam Ham had a strong, quick fellow didn’t even seem to be the same person. He had the punch. It sank into Hasmed’s soft gut, and the two lugs same face and same voice and same pudgy dumpling frame, grinned as they felt their burden sag against their grip. 75 74 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Bet you didn’t see that coming, Mr. Fortune,” Hamish thought that they might really be there unseen. It took a lot said, punching again and giving Hasmed a stinging slap with of time and effort (and eventually luck), but he found his other hand. something. He found something Sal was really hiding— “Didn’t I?” something he could reveal, something that would astonish. AND GREG The look in the bloody eye was disturbing, and Viet- He found Scott. nam Ham suddenly found he didn’t feel like hitting Maintaining the sham of prophecy took a lot of fore- ANGEL anymore. He waved a hand, and his two men flung Hasmed thought and running around, of course. Simply unveiling out in the street. his true form and power would have been much simpler, But later that day, one of the thugs tripped and fell down but the fortune-telling scheme had been Harvey’s idea. a flight of stairs, just as Hasmed had predicted. The other It wasn’t like there was a little “Harvey voice” giving him WINGS thug, uneasy, got a checkup and discovered he was, indeed, advice, and it wasn’t like Hasmed admired or even respected infected with Treponema pallidum. And Hamish, after the man whose body he’d taken. Nonetheless, Hasmed had talking to Dennis, called Harvey Ciullo’s number to ask gotten a feeling—a feeling based on Harvey’s experience and which of his three girlfriends he should talk to. observations—that “seeing the future” would be a lot more He also told Hasmed to talk to Sal Macellaio about his acceptable than striking people down with curses. After all, a money problem. lot of the gangsters were involved with gambling. Gamblers were notorious for being superstitious, for following hunches, for magical thinking. They were known for it, and rightly so. Hasmed was not, of course, predicting the future or Harvey was (had been) a perfect example of the type—a guy seeing the past. He knew Elohim who could do that sort of who’d bet the Cubs would win the World Series long before thing, but it wasn’t an art he’d studied. His talents ran the playoffs had even started. And why? He had a “gut feeling” more toward moving unseen and hurting people. With that the Cubs were due. Never mind that every other time these powers combined, he could make his predictions he’d followed his instincts, he’d lost money and earned the come true. contempt of his peers. This time was going to be different. He’d felt Dennis’s illness. After describing a sudden turn He’d been certain of it. This was the big bet that would turn for the worse, it took only a moment’s breath to make it everything around. happen. In that, he’d been correct. Just not in any way he’d have A similar whispered curse put an aching soreness in hoped for or anticipated. Lucky Shirt’s leg. Nonetheless, his marginal existence had made Harvey a Invisible, he’d found Mikey’s syringe (along with money keenly interested observer of the people around him. They and jewelry that would make a small but real dent in were superstitious, paradoxically religious, yet also strangely Harvey’s outstanding medical bills). pragmatic. They were more likely than many to accept the Ignored—covered in a gray section of papered-over miraculous. At the same time, they would also be more vision, like one of the late Mr. Diamond’s migraine auras— likely to deal with it on a dirt-common level, where a more he had walked up behind Ham’s henchman and given him educated or abstract mind would simply be amazed. a well-placed boot in the ass at the top of the steps. A college professor, confronted with reliable cures and Preparing for a visit to Sal Macellaio had taken the most curses, would be shocked and wonder-struck. Such a man work, the most sneaking. He’d searched Sal’s house a lot would instantly get lost in the big questions of what such more thoroughly than Mikey’s, without finding anything things meant about the world and the people within it. nearly as damning. He followed the man himself, when he A mafioso with the same evidence would be far more could, but even ignored, he found Sal hard to trail. Macellaio likely to try to control or destroy it. Yes, it’s a miracle, it’s was in the habit of ditching even imaginary tails, with the 77 76 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES amazing, it’s evidence of a wilder, stranger world… but, in A little confusion is fine—it’s no big deal. The mob- the final analysis, it’s also either a threat or a resource. sters shrug and accept it as “part of Our Thing.” But That narrow focus guaranteed Hasmed an extreme sometimes there are big problems—confusion that can’t reaction (of one type or another) if he simply told the truth. be swept aside with a nod and a tap on the nose. Confusion AND GREG Once the idea of subterfuge crossed his mind (or like that can cause an apparently stable society to convulse Harvey’s), it started to appeal to him more and more. and shudder with sudden violence, like a sturdy tree ANGEL Where Harvey looked at the reactions of the gangsters, shaken by a terrible storm. Hasmed considered the reactions of his fallen fellows. Johnny Bronco was sick. Surely he would meet other Elohim at some point, and In the vagueness of the Vuoto crime family, there was there was no guarantee that they would be friendly. If he one certainty. That certainty was not a promise or a prin- WINGS posed as one of the Neberu—a member of the House of ciple, but a person—Johnathan Vuoto, also known as Fate, a seer, a finder of futures—then it would give him an “Johnny Bronco,” also known as “Don Vuoto.” edge against any spirit who wished him ill. In the days between Hasmed’s discussion with Vietnam It was troublesome and complicated, but it was his plan, Ham and his scheduled meeting with Sal, Johnny Bronco and it played to his strengths. suddenly dropped from what turned out to be lung cancer. Unfortunately, it meant he had no idea what to expect The last person to talk to him before his collapse was when he confronted Sal Macellaio. Harvey Ciullo—a fact that was not lost on Sal Macellaio. Sal wasn’t quite an underboss, but he was close. “Of- ficially” he was only a skipper, a crew chief. In reality, Mob life is not a bureaucracy. several crews looked to him for guidance. Johnny re- There are layers and levels and titles, but there are no spected him, and you couldn’t deny that Sal did right by hard-and-fast rules. There is no three-ring binder that the family, but… Sal and Johnny were never pals. With explains when a consigliere is more important than an Johnny sick, a lot of eyes suddenly turned to Sal, watching underboss. Instead, there is a loose, implied network of to see if he was going to make a move. obligations and respect and reputation. When you start It was in this climate that Hasmed approached him for out, you keep your mouth shut and your eyes open, and a favor. pretty soon it’s clear who’s really running things—regard- less of their position or title. Gangsterism is unofficial. There is no red tape, so Sal did business in a lot of different places. Unlike things get done efficiently. It also means, though, that there Hamish or Dennis, he didn’t have a “hangout.” Predict- is confusion now and again. Vietnam Ham was a case in ability wasn’t a problem for Dennis—it was, in fact, a point. He couldn’t really be running a crew, because he necessity. He hid in plain sight and bribed the local cops. wasn’t made, and he couldn’t be made because he was a He didn’t have to worry about the feds. Dennis didn’t know goddamn kilt-wearing Scotsman, for Christ’s sake. Ham’s shit, and he liked it that way, so he’d have been worthless as crew had been officially run by a guy named Tiny Sorgente— a witness. Consequently, he was beneath their notice. Easy except that Tiny had died eleven years ago. Technically, as it would be to tap his phone and bug his favorite booth, it still wasn’t worth the effort. Hamish and his pals were in Sal Macellaio’s crew, though in practice, Sal just took the money and let Vietnam Ham do Hamish made do with daily bug sweeps and convoluted what he wanted. No one talked about it. It just turned out talk. Anyone who listened in at the Mac could readily hear that way. A little confusing, maybe, but only if you bothered an hour-long conversation without a single proper name to think about it. or identifiable location. It was an art form. Hamish could plan an entire protection shakedown with phrases no 79 78 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES more specific than “that one place,” “the guy, you know, progression would start again. Red flickers fought black with the thing?” “the stuff” or “something, you know, like shadows everywhere the eye fell. what we need.” “Harvey,” Sal said. He didn’t turn to look. Sal wasn’t like that. Sal was mobile, favoring noisy places “Mr. Macellaio.” AND GREG where audio surveillance simply wasn’t an option. Today he “You ever see anything like this?” might be at a construction site. Tomorrow he might pick a Hasmed had been remembering the war against Heaven, ANGEL public pool, where you couldn’t get close with a wire. when he had battled mighty spirits of the soil and earth. When Hasmed caught up with him, he was at a steel mill. When struck, they had bled molten metal much like what he There was a reason Sal kept on the move. Unlike Hamish, was seeing. “Nuh uh.” Sal needed to discuss crimes in precise detail before carry- “Can you imagine what that stuff would do to a guy? I WINGS ing them out. Sal was a stringer—an expert at assembling mean, if you threw him in? The skin, the guts… that shit teams for specific high-risk, high-yield crimes. He was would be gone in seconds, right? Even the bones might constantly looking for the next big score. Ham concen- just… poof.” trated on stable, long-term ventures—prostitution, “I guess.” gambling, loan-sharking, rackets. Predictable stuff. He Sal finally turned to face him. “You know you made a paid up to Sal, his immediate superior, and Sal (after taking stupid play on the World Series. Just, really retarded.” his skim) paid up to Johnny Bronco. Usually. Hasmed shrugged. On occasion, however, Sal had been known to take pay- “Ham tells me you think we ought to let you skate.” ups from Vietnam Ham (and guys like him) and use it as Hasmed nodded. seed money for bigger capers like long cons, bank robber- “Why in hell would I do that?” ies, armored car heists or high-level fraud. So far, he’d “I think you’ve put paid to me.” always been successful and had been able to pay up the “Is that a fact?” money he’d held back from Johnny, along with a lot more. Hasmed removed his hat and wiped his sweaty, stubbly Johnny wasn’t one to argue with success, but he’d noticed. head with a forearm. After those successes, of course, Sal hadn’t needed to do “Yeah.” any more investing with Johnny’s money, and things seemed Sal gave the knotty scar on Harvey’s forehead a specula- calm. But Sal never came up as a candidate for higher tive squint. In the ruddy light, it seemed to pulse. positions, even though he clearly had the will and the skill. “The way I see it,” Hasmed said, “We had a deal. Either Johnny didn’t like him, and that took care of that. I pay you or you kill me. Right?” But with Johnny weak, all that changed. “That’s pretty much the understanding, yeah.” So when Sal’s bodyguards showed Harvey Ciullo into “Well, I didn’ pay. And Mikey Diamond killed me.” He their master’s presence, there was already a tension in the tightened his lips a little, but no one would call it a smile. air—a feeling of distrust and unease. The proximity of “There. We’re done.” liquid tons of red-hot steel oozing along into molds didn’t Sal laughed. make any of them sweat any less. “That’s some kind of pretzel logic you got working there, The mill was a surreal hell of heat and incandescent Ciullo. Or should I be calling you Mr. Fortune, now?” “You can check my hospital records. I died, Sal.” A note spark showers, and grime was everywhere—everywhere but on the live steel, which coursed along, white, then yellow, of tension entered Hasmed’s voice. then crimson, developing black crusts on the surface as it “I think it only counts if you stay dead, Harv.” cooled. Then those surfaces would crack, revealing the “Don’t tell me you’re going to kill me again. Are you Sal?” angry core beneath. Heat would surge up in ripples and Something was happening. Sal couldn’t quite name it, waves, angry white splitting crusted skin, and the cooling but something. The shadows were moving. Or maybe they 81 80 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES were suddenly still where they’d moved before. Maybe the And suddenly, everything was normal. Vince caught his shadows were touching Harvey and clinging to him. breath and stood up. The bodyguards sheepishly holstered “I’d rather get your vig and the money you owe.” their weapons, because it was just little Harvey Ciullo “I ain’t payin’.” standing by the boss. Harvey the nobody, Harvey the joke. AND GREG “You defying me, Ciullo? You coming here, to my Harvey, the dummy who couldn’t think his way out of a wet face, defying me? I don’t fuckin’ believe this. Vince, take paper bag with Einstein coaching him through. ANGEL care of him.” Harvey Ciullo, who’d just made their boss back down. Vince stepped forward and started to cough. At first it Sal’s gun vanished with practiced subtlety, and he was just a little rough sound, like clearing some of the mill’s straightened his jacket. His breath came in rough rattles, smoke and closeness from his throat, but then he coughed but he controlled it. He was good at control. It made him WINGS again. Again. Each was bigger and harsher, and by the time what he was. he’d taken three steps toward Ciullo, he couldn’t stand up He knew that he’d never get away with caving in to straight. He was doubled over, his red face redder in the Ciullo. It wouldn’t be fast, but it would kill his reputation light of molten steel, battling for breath. eventually. Probably more thoroughly for being slow. But Sal’s two other bodyguards pulled out guns but aimed he also knew that whatever Harvey was now—whatever he’d them uncertainly. They knew Harvey was there. They could become on the other side of death—he wasn’t ready to cross see him. Only they couldn’t, really. They couldn’t focus on it. Not yet. And if he was ever going to get ready, he’d need him. They knew he was somewhere, but… the respect. “Sal, you ought to reconsider. Did you talk to Hamish? It was quite a puzzle, but Sal was a resourceful guy. Did you talk to Dennis? Did they tell you what I’ve seen?” “Yeah, your debt—fuggeddaboudit. Long as you do me Sal had his own gun out, but like his colleagues, he had one favor first.” no idea where to aim it. The voice—Harvey’s voice only, “A favor?” Looking him over, Sal could see that Harvey’s Christ, so cold and cruel and purposeful—seemed to be face was pale and he looked a little slumped, a little tired. So getting quieter. But clearer, and that meant closer. whatever freak-show shit he’d pulled, it had cost him “I warned Dennis about his throat, and he didn’t listen. something. Good to know. And I warned Ham about his girlfriend, and he didn’t listen. “A little thing. ’Cause honestly, that bet you made was so funny. Hell, it’s worth the money just for the chuckle, I warned Johnny about his cancer too, and he didn’t really have a chance to listen. It came on that fast. Now I’m warning you know?” you Sal. You don’t want to earn my hate, not over something “That’s big of you.” as petty as money. You don’t know how far I can see, and “You just gotta do a little thing. Nothin’ big. You got you’ve got things you can’t stand to lose. Your wife? Your any frequent flyer miles?” sister? I think you could see them go. You could, couldn’t “How come?” you? But your son…” “’Cause you’re going to Los Angeles for me.” “I got no son!” Sal hissed, but his face had turned pale. “You do. The son no one knows about. Scott, isn’it? The Hasmed went home and showered, letting the hot water son who’s at college, who doesn’t know nothing about gang- sluice over him until all the grime was gone, all the clammy sters or rackets or strings. Your little piece of normal life, and sweat washed clean and—more important—until the nerves and nobody knows. Your secret. Well, Sal, I seen it. You want to twitchiness eased out of his frame. know what his future holds? You want me to tell you his He was disgusted. He’d faced down thrones and princi- fortune?” palities of the Holy Host without trembling, but now…? Now “A’right!” Sal said. “Okay! Jesus, fine. You’re… off the hook.” 83 82 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES he was reduced to fear by a human being. A mere mortal whose Tina got free and ran up to a wall. She started kicking it, best threats were gunplay and molten metal. yelling, “No no no no no!” “Tina, quit that!” Helena told her. Hasmed tried to leave it, tried to ignore it, told himself it was Harvey’s fear, leftover anxiety from a mouse of a man… but “I don’t have to!” AND GREG he knew it was more than that. “Yes, hon, you do,” Hasmed said. He turned to Helena The world was ugly and fallen and wrecked, but he was still and said, “I got this. You mind self-serve with that beer?” ANGEL afraid to leave it. He walked once more under the blue sky and “Not at all,” she said, heading toward the kitchen. above the green grass, and he would fight to remain with every Hasmed took Tina by the shoulder to pull her away. She ounce of strength. He could no longer deny his fear of Hell. wrestled free and kept kicking. He slipped both arms under her He was terrified by the thought of returning to his cell of armpits and picked her up. WINGS numbness, and he knew that made him weak. “No no no!” she hollered, struggling. He hugged her That and Tina. tighter until she was immobile. Then he waited for her to As he thought about her, he could feel her coming closer, get tired. coming up the stairs, a bright spark in a dark world. He wasn’t “Sweets,” he said. “What’s this about?” God to her. God, to Tina, was barely an abstraction. God was She didn’t answer. something that some adults thought was important, something “You can’t go around kicking the walls in our apartment. involved with churches and songs. If you kick ’em down, we won’t have anywhere to live.” “Aunt Helena is mean,” she said. As long as he could act like Harvey Ciullo, Hasmed was better than God. To her, he was Daddy. “I don’t think so,” he replied. “You’re mean too!” she screamed, her face bright red. He finished his shower and toweled off. Glancing in the mirror, he could see the mark between his eyes “Tina, sweetie, you need to calm down.” settling down. The stitches had come out and now there “She’s not my mommy! You’re not my daddy! You’re mister ugly-head!” She burst into tears. was just a livid red scar. Coupled with the eye of blood and pus, it was hideous. Unforgettable. He sighed and held her squirming form close again. Hasmed should have been able to heal the scar and the eye “She’s not your mom,” he said. “But auntie Helena loves with a simple push of will, but he didn’t. At some level, he you very much. I love you very much. You got that?” suspected he couldn’t. Those marks were part of him. They “No,” she said sullenly. were neither Hasmed nor Harvey, but perhaps they were a “Well, it’s true. We’re here and we love you, and we aren’t natural part of the fused being that they were becoming. going anywhere, you understand?” Perhaps they were the face of Mr. Fortune. “No.” There was less fire in her refusal this time. Shaking his head, he dressed quickly and was out of the “It’s about naptime for you, right? Why don’t you go lie bathroom as Helena started knocking on his door. down in your room and see if you feel better in a while?” He opened it and immediately squatted to hug Tina. “No! I don’ wanna nap!” “Hey kitten,” he said. She struggled against him. “Okay, you don’t have to nap, but you have to have some “No!” she said. “No no no!” quiet time in your room. You got me?” “She’s been like this all day,” Helena said. She frowned at him for a moment, then said, “Okay.” “I’m sorry,” Hasmed replied. He meant it. “You wanna He escorted her to her room then came back to the living come in? I could make you some tea or, I don’ know, get you room after about ten minutes. Helena was sipping a beer and a beer?” looking at a stack of books. “I’ll take the beer,” Helena said. “You went to the library?” she asked. Her voice was skeptical. “Yeah,” he said. “I do know how to read, y’know.” 85 84 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “Jesus loves me, this I know “I know, but… Getting Fit the Healthy Way? The Good For the Bible tells me so. Sense Diet? What gives?” Little ones to Him belong. “I don’t wanna die,” he replied. They are weak but He is strong.” She tilted her head. AND GREG “Honest,” he said. “I don’t want to die. Again. I been… I Hasmed bit his lip. been outside life, Helena, and I didn’ like it. I don’t wanna go “Who taught you that song?” ANGEL back before I absolutely have to.” “Auntie Helena.” “Wow.” “She really loves you, kiddo. You know that.” “What?” “Yeah.” Tina was whispering. Hasmed stroked a wisp of She opened her mouth, shut it, took a sip of beer. WINGS golden curls back from her forehead. “Daddy?” “I guess I just… I don’t know. I never thought about you “Yeah?” changing your life,” she said. “I’ll never see Mommy again, will I?” “Get used to the idea.” “You’ll see her in pictures, and in your memory.” “Harvey?” “But… she’s not coming back.” “Hm?” “Nope.” “What happened that night?” “She’s dead.” “What night?” “Yep.” “The night you ‘fell.’” She sat up and put her arms around him. “You almost He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not an died,” she said. issue anymore.” “I came back for you, kid.” “I’ve heard that from you before.” “But you could die.” “Yeah, but did I ever sound like I really believed it?” “Don’t you worry about that.” She had to admit that before, he hadn’t. She just held him tighter and tighter. “Look,” he said. “I’ll tell you a secret, okay?” Later that night, after Helena left, Hasmed went into She looked up at him with brown eyes full of trust. Tina’s room. She was fast asleep on her bed, with a Barbie doll His heart began to beat faster, and he almost stopped, clutched in one fist. Even in sleep, her forehead was furrowed. almost told her something meaningless. But he didn’t. For a moment, he just stood there, head cocked to the side. “There’s a way that you and me can always be together, A rush of emotions coursed through Harvey’s body as he Tina. Always. No matter what. Would you like that?” watched his daughter. Hasmed was outside them, but not “Uh huh!” unaffected. “Okay. Here’s the first part. You have to say you’re mine. He watched in silence and turned to go. He took two steps Understand?” before a voice stopped him. “I’m yours.” “Daddy?” Just like that. He turned back. He took a deep breath. “That’s… that’s good, honey. Now “Yes?” here’s the second part. There’s a name, you got it? And it’s a “Do you want to hear a song?” She was whispering. secret. You can’t tell anybody about it, you understand? No “Sure, kitten.” He sat down next to her on the bed. one. It’s just for you and me. You don’t even tell grandma. Not In her high-pitched lisp, Tina sang. even aunt Helena. You got it?” “It’s a secret,” she repeated. “You don’t tell anyone.” 87 86 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND VI STOLZE ASHES “Don’t tell anyone.” “Promise?” chapter “I promise.” “Promise on Mommy?” AND GREG She swallowed. He could see that she didn’t really understand everything—how could she? She didn’t under- ANGEL stand what he was asking, but she trusted her daddy. And she understood that there was something dreadful in promis- six ing on her dead mother. “Promise on Mommy,” she whispered. WINGS “All right. The name is ‘Hasmed.’ If you’re in trouble, if you’re in danger, anywhere, no matter what, say that name. Has-med. Say it.” “Hasmed,” she whispered. “Good.” He kissed her on the forehead. “You’re a good girl, Tina. And I’m going to look out for you.” His voice caught in his throat. “Did you ever fantasize about being a rock star, Tommy?” “I’m going to watch you forever.” Thomas Ramone shook his head. Sabriel frowned at him. “No, really. You must have, right?” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head again. “Well, what about an actor? Stand-up comedian? Not a painter, surely.” His head kept shaking, back and forth. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Sabriel stood up and walked over to him. She’d been sipping from a Poland Springs bottle, and she tilted it up to his cracked lips. He guzzled greedily, letting twin trails of water snake down from the corners of his mouth. Then he wrapped his lips around the bottleneck completely, unwill- ing to let a single drop go. He continued to suck at it even after it was empty, and then Sabriel pulled it away. She waited a moment and then asked, “Can you talk now?” “I… I guess.” His voice was low, rough and raspy. There was a deadness to it—a profound despair and depression that put a light, pretty smile on Sabriel’s face. “You never dreamed of being famous?” “Nah. I mean, what the fuck? Gettin’ all the jokes about The Ramones growing up. Who cares?” She nodded. “I see.” She sat back down. This time, she hadn’t hauled down a kitchen chair. She had two large 89 88 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES suitcases, and was delicately perched on the end of the “Maybe I do.” biggest one. She stood back and looked expectant. “You’re a cunt.” “I’m going away, Tom. You know that.” He nodded. She waited. She laughed. AND GREG “Aren’t you going to ask me anything?” It wasn’t a wicked laugh or a cruel laugh. It was a “You aren’t going to let me go.” He said it like he was genuine, joyous and delighted laugh. It was the laugh of ANGEL trying to strangle his own hope, and like he was succeeding. someone who has truly been surprised by something lovely. “Well, I might. It’ll cost you, though.” Something enchanting. “Oh Tommy,” she cried. “I was right to keep you!” “Stockholm Syndrome.” “Very good! You remember!” As her laughter tinkled out, the air in the basement WINGS “I’ve had plenty of time to think things over.” became charged and heavy. Reaching up behind her neck, “Here.” Rummaging in her purse, she produced a she undid a button at the top of her blouse. Ziplock bag with half a sandwich in it. It wasn’t a big “Thomas Ramone. Tom. You’ve got spunk. Spirit. Humanity.” sandwich—just white bread with peanut butter. “Do you want this?” She pulled the blouse off, dropped her skirt and His stomach grumbled audibly. “You know I do.” stepped out of it. The air had become so humid and dense “Believe that I am a goddess, and it’s yours.” that water was beginning to bead on the walls and drip “You’re a goddess.” His voice was flat, except for a toward the floor. “And as I think about it, I’m glad you’re not an artist. lowering curve of despair and anxiety. I’m glad that you don’t want to create anything. I’ve been “That’s a start, but you don’t believe it. Really Tommy, you don’t. I can tell. You want the sandwich—want it soooo too hung up on people like that. Too close to my work I much—and because of that you want to believe. But you suppose.” really don’t believe. It’s too bad.” A heavy mist was filling the room. She shook her hair, She dropped the baggie on the floor and picked up her which was curling in the warm fog. She stood before him suitcases. naked. “You’re just going to leave me here.” He didn’t even “I really am a goddess,” she said. have the spirit to make it a question. Then she transformed. “That’s about the size of it, yes.” Where before he had seen a pale and lovely woman with “Bitch.” red and yellow hair, he now beheld the glory of the ocean in She was halfway to the stairs and she stopped. She put sunlight. It rained in the basement as she stood before him down the bags and turned back to him. with the grandeur of a storm at sea, magnificent and “What did you call me?” inhuman, Siren and Scylla in one. “You heard.” In his throat, she could see his pulse She stepped forward and wrapped him in waterfall wings. pounding hard. “WHAT IS IT YOU WANT, THOMAS? TELL ME WHAT YOU She bent over him until her mouth was nearly touch- DESIRE. GIVE ME YOUR SERVICE, AND YOU SHALL HAVE IT.” ing his ear. “Maybe,” she whispered, “you want to Tom Ramone knew. reconsider what you said.” The days of thirst and hunger had prepared him for this Thomas bit his lips, pulled off a curly flap of chapped sight. Just as the hermits of old religions purified themselves flesh and felt the pinprick sting as a drop of his own blood in the wilderness with fasting and loneliness and flagellation, ran into his mouth. It tasted great. Thomas’s torment had opened his eyes. The normal con- 91 90 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES cerns of the day-to-day man were washed away, and when the Dr. Ng raised her hands. “Okay, okay. It’s just that you miraculous appeared, Thomas knew it for what it was. He mention the Appalachians every time you have this dream.” knew that she could do what she said. He sensed what it would “It’s a point of comparison. They weren’t the Appala- cost him. chians.” AND GREG “Freedom,” he said. “I want my freedom.” “All right.” “LAUGH WITH ME,” she said, “AND IT IS YOURS.” Teddy Mason had lost his virginity during that trip to ANGEL Dazzled and amazed, Thomas did it. He started out with the Appalachians. He’d seen a swarthy, ugly girl in one of a forced chuckle and felt himself melting, oozing, loosen- the towns, and he hadn’t said anything. She hadn’t said ing. Terrified, his laugher rose to hysterical peak as he anything either, just looked at him and turned and walked flowed between the bonds and puddled on the floor. away. He’d followed her to under some weathered wooden WINGS “YOU SEE?” Sabriel asked. “FREEDOM.” bleachers at a football field. She’d lifted her skirt up Thomas re-formed and rose again clean, renewed… wordlessly, and he’d grunted a little as he tore her panties and deeply afraid of what he’d become. down, opened his own pants, struggled clumsily to put it in her. Her expression—distant, maybe contemptuous, maybe just dumb—didn’t change as he rolled his hips one, two, Teddy Mason sat in his psychologist’s office. He wasn’t three times and then came. There was blood on his penis lying on a couch. Too cliché. And his psychologist wasn’t a when he pulled it out, so he guessed she was a virgin too. He saturnine man with an Austrian accent and a neatly trimmed almost said something to her, but there was nothing to say. gray beard. She was a big fat woman in a blocky-cut pantsuit. He’d pulled his pants up, she’d fixed her skirt, and then it Her name was Dr. Ng. was over. “I had that dream again,” he said. It was the most satisfying sexual experience he’d ever “Last night?” had, but it seemed so unreal that sometimes he wasn’t sure “Thursday night.” She made a note. if he remembered it, or if it was just a dream, a fantasy. He “Does that bother you?” she asked. sometimes wanted to tell Dr. Ng about it—in a very, very “Yeah.” He looked down and away from her. “You slight way she resembled the girl—but he never did. know it does.” He cleared his throat and went on. “So in the dream, “Would you like to tell me about it?” I’m in this mountain area. Very barren. Lots of gray sand, He shrugged. “You’ve heard it before.” almost like dust. It’s cold and the air is thin. It’s real clear. “Tell me again.” Looking up in the sky I can see millions of stars, and the She knew he was uncomfortable talking about the moon’s like a spotlight. I mean, it’s so bright I almost can’t dream, and he knew she knew it, and he figured that was look at it.” why she made him describe it every time. Certainly the He settled back in the chair, which gave a leathery creak. dream never changed. His head tilted and his eyes rose as he stopped looking at his “All right, so the dream’s like this… It’s cold. Night- psychologist and looked deeper into his memory. time. I’m up in some hills. Not mountains like around “There are a few cactuses—cacti?—whatever. A few of here. Old hills, you know? Worn down. Like the Appala- them, and these scrubby little trees. And one of the trees chians or something, only, not nearly so fertile.” talks to me.” “You’ve been to the Appalachians?” He paused, waiting for Dr. Ng to say, “What did the tree “Once, when I was a teenager.” say?” Most times, at this point in the narrative, she said that. “And these hills weren’t the Appalachians.” Today she didn’t, so after a pause he continued. “No. Just like they weren’t last time I had the dream.” 93 92 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES “It tells me it’s pleased with the offerings I bring, and “In the dream, you’re Indian or black like her?” that if I do my… like, my sacred duty? If I do that well, I’ll Teddy tilted his head. “Yeah.” This was an angle he have its blessings and protection. If I fail in my duty, I’ll… hadn’t really considered before. you know, feel its wrath. Whatever.” “What are the other people doing?” AND GREG Teddy felt ridiculous talking all this biblical stuff—he “They’re chanting something over and over. I can’t was a furniture store manager. He shouldn’t be seeing a remember what it is. It’s a name, though.” ANGEL psychologist about nightmares and sexual dysfunction. He “Your name?” waited for Dr. Ng to say something—to encourage him, to “Maybe,” he said, but he knew it was the tree’s name. He make it easier. She didn’t. felt that if only he could remember that name, everything What the hell am I paying her for? To sit here silent as would become clear. Everything would make sense. WINGS a tree herself? Even as he thought it, though, the image—the “You know what Freud would say about that long, thin doctor as the tree—struck a deep chord in him and made stick, right?” him afraid. She wasn’t the tree. He didn’t want her to be the “Yeah,” he sighed. “I honestly don’t think this is any tree. Did he? kind of sex dream… thing. You know. There isn’t any… any “So then I start with the… the sacrifices. You know. Like feeling of that.” I told you before.” She made another note. “All right. Another theory “Tell me again.” states that, in dreams, we are every person in the dream.” He sighed. “The first one is a, a girl. Maybe twelve, “Yeah?” thirteen? I don’t know, maybe older. And I take this stick. “That is, every figure in a dream represents a different It’s not real big—maybe six or eight inches, thinner than a aspect or facet of ourselves.” pencil… sharp. I put it in her eye. I don’t blind her, Teddy thought that over. “Makes sense, I guess. Seeing though.” This was the frustrating part, trying to explain as nobody’s dreaming but me, everyone in the dream must how he felt a sensation of… expertise in the dream. His be me. Or from me. Or something.” dream-self had a goal and didn’t feel anger or horror or “So then what part of you is that girl?” even madness. Just purpose. Like Teddy felt balancing the He opened his mouth and closed it again. “I don’t know.” books at the end of the month—only, at the same time, his “Do you suspect that you’re blind in some part of your dream-self felt a sense of rightness, truth, duty and purity. life?” “I put it in right by the nose, like at the tear duct? And “I told you, I don’t blind her! I fix her!” it’s angled sharply up and a little bit in. Then the tree tells She raised her eyebrows. Teddy was surprised too. me it’s enough, and I pull it out. Hardly any blood.” “You ‘fix’ her?” “What does the girl look like?” “Yeah…” He put his right hand over his mouth and “Kind of… I don’t know. Indian? Maybe black? Dark- looked off at nothing for a moment with wide eyes. skinned. Straight black hair.” “What’s wrong with her?” “What’s she wearing?” “I don’t know, but…” “Nothing. But it’s not like she’s naked. Maybe it’s just Dr. Ng waited. A clock softly ticked. that her clothes don’t matter to the dream. I don’t know. “…but the same thing’s wrong with me.” Teddy’s eyes, Or maybe we’re all naked, and that’s just the way it is.” still gazing blankly at the floor—at his memory—were wide “When you say ‘we’re all naked’…?” and staring. “I have the same curse. And because I have to “There are other people around me, watching while I do take it away from people I can never… lose it myself. I’m the it. The tribe.” high priest, and I have to stay sick to heal others.” 95 94 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES She waited, then encouraged him. “I think we’re mak- guys with a couple decades worth of bacon breakfasts lining ing some real progress here, Teddy. What part of you is the their guts. Not guys who’d just died on an operating table crowd, the tribe?” during brain surgery, for damn sure. But this guy—this He tried, he opened his mouth and closed it once more. weird new version of Harvey—pushed himself harder than AND GREG “I don’t know.” those young punks. Harder than muscle-bound bastards who knew deep down that boxing was their only alternative “All right. We’re just about done for today, but I think ANGEL you should be very pleased.” She made a note. “If we can to petty crime or a life sentence of minimum wage. Harder understand this dream, I believe it will lose its power to than the head cases who boxed as an expression of some- terrify you.” thing sick and wounded, who boxed because it kept them “I’d like that,” he said automatically. from murder and assault. Harder even that the guys who WINGS loved it, who trained like maniacs because they liked noth- “For next week, I’d like you to think about what part of yourself is, symbolized by the tree.” ing better than working out to the point of puking fatigue. Teddy’s heart gave a single, hard thud. On autopilot, he Roscoe looked down at the purple face of the man on stood and shook Dr. Ng’s hand, then went out and me- the weight bench and saw a heartless intensity that sur- chanically waved to her receptionist as he left. passed all that. Dr. Ng had never told Teddy that his dreams always As he watched, the red scab in the middle of Harvey’s coincided with the full moon, for the simple reason that she forehead cracked a little at one edge. A drop of blood had not, herself, noticed the pattern. beaded out. “Okay, that’s enough.” Roscoe grabbed the barbell and There were things Teddy didn’t tell the doctor as well, but not because of ignorance. His reasons were more complex. put it on its brackets. He had to struggle to do it. His He had not told her that the idea of himself as the tree tremors were bad today. had jarred his brain. It had felt not just wrong, but blasphe- “What? I thought you wanted me to feel the burn.” mous. “Yeah, yeah,” Roscoe said, “But I don’t want you to get He had not told her that what woke him from these a brain aneurysm doin’ it. C’mon, hit the showers.” dreams was not horror or fear, but an exhilarating sensa- “Shit, I can still…” As he sat up, Harvey’s face turned tion of power and courage and rightness. He had never told pale, and he suddenly leaned back on the bench. her the tree felt holy. “You all right?” “Fuggeddaboudit.” He stood, but it was hesitant, and there was no more talk about continuing the workout. At the local YMCA, Roscoe Paum was getting uneasy. Waiting outside the locker room, Roscoe bit his nails, “Jeez, Hawv,” he said. “Maybe you ought to take it easy thinking. If something happens to Mr. Fortune in there, for a minute?” what happens to me? I’m stuck quivering until I die. Shit, Ten minutes earlier, Roscoe had been yelling encour- I can’t let him push himself. agement, calling Harvey a pussy, badgering him to keep At the same time, he was wondering when “Mr. For- jumping the goddamn rope, shit, even little girls could tune” would do something for his condition again. After fuckin’ jump rope. The other man had put up with all of it, the water, he’d come up with a package of plants—ginger and even though he kept getting the rope tangled in his ankles. mint and such, which kept his muscles controlled as long as After a five-minute break, Roscoe started him on the he could smell it. But that only lasted about a day, and now weights, and that was when he got a little uneasy. when he trembled, it was worse than before. Not physically Roscoe had seen a lot of boxers train, but usually it was young punks or fresh dropouts from high school, not old 97 96 GREG ASHES ANGEL WINGS STOLZE AND STOLZE ASHES worse, but it meant more to him because he couldn’t resign “Maybe. It’s not clear, you know?” himself to it anymore. It was much worse to have hope. “But maybe?” The door opened. “Maybe. You wanna try this?” “You feelin’ okay, Harvey?” “Yeah! I mean, why wouldn’ I?” AND GREG “It’s a’right.” They were in Roscoe’s apartment twenty minutes later “You gotta take it slow, man. You ain’t young. You can’t with the shades down and the phone off the hook. ANGEL bounce right back like a teenager.” “What do we…? I mean, how do we do it?” Roscoe asked. “I know, I know. I just wanted to, y’know, get a good “I think I just need to, uh… sit down. You sit down, and workout in before I go.” I’ll see what I can… see.” “Go?” “All right. You want, I don’t know, a cold drink or…?” WINGS “Yeah, I’m takin’ a trip.” “Nah, nah. Just stay quiet.” He closed his eyes—one “Where to?” clear and brown, one bloody and mottled—and settled back “Fuggeddaboudit. Not important. Just a little thing, on Roscoe’s worn green couch. Roscoe sat and waited. you know?” Nothing happened. “Uh huh. When you think you’ll be back?” Nothing happened. “Not sure. Could take a couple days, a week… probably Nothing happened, and Roscoe started to fidget. His not longer than a week.” shakes and twitches were already shifting his body. He was Roscoe Paum bit his lips, thinking about a week with no biting again at nails he’d already bitten and was reaching for relief for his pain and fragility. the TV Guide when Harvey’s eyes opened and a voice came “Well have a nice, a nice time, there. On your trip. from Harvey’s mouth. It wasn’t Harvey’s voice though, not by Um.” He looked away. They were walking to the parking lot. a long shot. “Hey Paum, how you doin’?” “SUPPLICANT!” it said. “STATE THY NAME!” “Me? Well, you know.” He shrugged, but his whole body Roscoe jumped and stuck his hand on his mouth to shook as he did it. “Why? You think you could… you smother a shriek. The voice was deep and booming. It know… you maybe got somethin’?” didn’t sound like it came from a man, it sounded like it The reply was a deep sigh. “I don’ know. I got an idea, came from a thundercloud. It sounded like a special effect but…” in a Bible movie epic. “Yeah?” Harvey’s face looked funny, and it took Roscoe a second “Yeah, but it might not be easy.” to realize that there were new shadows on it, shadows cast by “Well, nothin’s easy. I mean, what’s the idea?” a very dim, flickering redness coming from that evil, blood- “Remember me telling you there were… things? Things stained eye. I saw? Like, they’re not real. Not something you can touch “STATE THY NAME!” but they’re still there? That they can do stuff?” “R-Roscoe Paum. Sir.” “Things.” “ROSCOE PAUM! WHY DO YOU DISTURB THE SLUMBER OF “Yeah. The things have ideas, I think. And I get this… ZOTH-TOCATIL?” I don’ know, it’s hard to see, real hard. But maybe I see a “I… I was just… Harvey told me that…” thing helping you.” He looked away, flexed his exhausted “HAR-VEE? IS THAT THE NAME OF THIS ONE, WHOSE FLESH I shoulders. “Helping you out long term, like.” WEAR? IS HE YOUR MEDIUM?” Roscoe swallowed. “You mean, what… Like, fixing me? Like, permanent?” 99 98 ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE “I don’t know. He’s the guy you’re talking with. No, through. I mean…” Roscoe’s vocabulary failed him, and he just pointed. “WHY HAVE I BEEN SUMMONED?” GREG “Har-Harvey thought you could help me. With, with my Muscular Dystrophy.” “AH. THOU ART ILL AND WOULD BE WHOLE. I UNDERSTAND.” Roscoe licked his lips. “Can you do it?” “SUCH A CURE IS WELL WITHIN THE POWER OF ZOTH-TOCATIL, MORTAL! THE QUESTION INSTEAD IS, CAN YOU DO IT!” “Do what?” “PAY THE PRICE MY POWER DEMANDS.” “Price? What price?” “YOU MUST ADORE ME, OBEY ME AND WORSHIP MY NAME ON BENDED KNEE. THIS VESSEL, THIS ‘HAR-VEE’ IS ILL-SUITED TO MY PRIESTHOOD, BUT HE HAS THE SIGHT, AND I SHALL SPEAK THROUGH HIM. YOU WILL FOLLOW MY COMMANDS, AND THOSE OF ‘HAR-VEE’ WHEN THEY DO NOT INTERFERE WITH ME. HE IS TO KNOW NOTHING OF ME, HOWEVER. TELL HIM NOT MY NAME, NOR OF OUR COMPACT.” “And you can heal me?” “ALREADY YOUR TREMBLING CEASES.” Startled, Roscoe realized it was true. “What…” Roscoe put a hand to his mouth and gnawed a ragged thumbnail. He knew he would make the deal. He was too weak to resist. But he had to ask the final question anyhow. “What are you?” “I HAVE BEEN CALLED MANY NAMES. TO YOUR ANCESTORS, I WAS THE THRONE OF THE MOUNTAIN WIND. TO MY ENEMIES, I WAS THE ZOTH OF THE HATED LASH. I HAVE BEEN NAMED SCOURGE AND ASHARU AND FELL KNIGHT OF THE BOUNDLESS DEEPS. “IN YOUR TONGUE, I AM NAMED… DEMON.” 100 GREG S GREG STOLZE VII ASHES ASHES chapter AND AND ANGEL WINGS ANGEL WINGS seven Sabriel, fallen angel of the Fifth House, one of those also called Lammasu and Defilers and succubi, gritted her teeth and pouted. She kicked her heels against the boards holding up the cheap box spring of a cheap hotel bed. If she’d chosen to stay at a cheap hotel, had decided to sleep on a cheap hotel mattress—well, that would be one thing. Deliberately revel- ing in the banality and stupidity and bad taste of humankind was one thing. Being forced into it because it was all she could afford was quite another. Things had gone poorly for her in Hollywood. She’d gotten distracted by a confused little dyke named Brenda Garry, she’d wound up in Chicago, that had been fine if not fulfilling… and then she’d met Nolan, the prick, and she’d wound up in LA after all. There she had met Enshagkushanna, the monster…. And now she was in Vegas, running away. She’d tried to contact Tommy, but he’d been asleep. She’d still gotten through, but his muttered replies hadn’t been helpful, and she’d been unable to wake him up, even shouting. If she wanted to rouse him from slumber, appar- ently she’d have to call him on the phone. Only she didn’t have his phone number. Sabriel decided to forget Ramone for a while. He was making her marginally stronger, and that was probably all he was good for—especially if he was the kind of slacker dipshit who was sound asleep at 1:00 in the afternoon. She 101 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES kept telling herself that this was all a temporary setback. of a pound cake was futile. She’d lost so much—so many Money wouldn’t be a problem for her, not with the Las names, so many memories, so many yesterdays…. Vegas strip just a taxicab ride away. She’d changed her And then she thought of the battle against Vejovis. That appearance while fleeing California so that she looked like memory was crystal clear. She hadn’t worked often with those AND a lovely, pale Japanese girl. Very slender, hair cut in a Elohim, but perhaps they were having the same sort of GREG straight-bang chop. Very innocent, classical, just a little bit difficulties as she herself. Not Gaviel, not anymore, but dewy-eyed and vulnerable. Perfect bait for men who didn’t Vodantu, Hasmed, Avitu… perhaps they would help her. ANGEL quite have what it took to rape, but who still liked their She’d had contact off and on with Avitu (What was her women frail and easily dominated. title? Something about the thin wind, thinnest wind…) “Oooh, you big peepee too bokoo,” she crooned sarcas- while they were imprisoned in the Abyss. Then Avitu had tically into a mirror as she put on her lipstick. become unavailable. Apparently, she’d been summoned to WINGS By the next morning she was back in the hotel room, the human world and had not returned. Thinking about $15,000 dollars the richer. A Texas insurance salesman the trouble she’d had in California, Sabriel suspected that named Bartholomew Hightower had gotten lucky at black- Avitu had been thwarted by just such a creature—a demon, jack and had thought he’d gotten lucky with her. She’d made like her, only with a longer span of time on Earth in which him beg long and hard for what he really wanted—for what to build up strength. she made him want—and when she’d cleaned him out, he’d It was hard to keep track of the passage of time in Hell. been happy. Sabriel was blithely confident that his love life Sabriel had no idea when Avitu had been called or how long would be wrecked from now on. The memory of Makiko- she’d been in the material spaces, but it had to be longer than from-Vegas would poison every sexual encounter in his Sabriel’s time. A powerful ally could be very helpful. Even a future, and his failed attempts to re-create it could only lead weak one would be better than nothing. to bitter disappointment. He’d try to find her again, prob- She glanced down at her watch. She had an hour until checkout, and then another hour until her bus (the bus, ably. Good luck looking for a woman with no paper trail, no last name, and (as of breakfast time) a completely different damn it!) for Florida departed. With her new money, though, height, weight and set of facial features. she might sell the bus ticket and catch a plane. Yes, that was As she packed up her clothes and her money, she won- definitely the way to go. dered what she wanted to do next. It was depressing, really. Sabriel drew the curtains and locked the door. After a She could go wreck artists, like Brenda and Nate, but it was moment’s thought, she turned the drab, angular fake-mod- too easy. Trying to really get in a position to trash the culture ern art painting around so she wouldn’t have to look at it. from the top down, though, seemed too damn hard. Actually, she knew her eyes would be closed. She didn’t want it looking at her. What she really needed was some allies, but that was easier said than done. That devil Gaviel probably wasn’t eager to She sat cross-legged on the bed and spoke. hear from her again, not after their fuckup with Maryanne “Avitu?” Prisco. She’d tried invoking some creatures like her, She felt something stir, and she jerked upright, eyes open. What the hell? she thought. The sensation… it had been Lammasu, once the angels of the ocean… but the Reaver of the Deep Waters was still in the Abyss, the Singer of Western one of inertia, but of a huge, powerful mass. Yet Avitu had Waves didn’t reply at all, and the Knight of the Rolling Storm been a spirit of the air. Surely no amount of imprisonment had told her to go screw herself. It was frustrating being on Earth could have changed the essence of her nature? rejected by a being she’d worked beside for millennia. She had made contact—brief, brushing contact—but that More frustrating still was the forgetting. She had aeons of touch had convinced her that Avitu was important. If Sabriel experience, but trying to cram it into a human brain the size could only rouse her… 103 102 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES As he went east, he could almost feel himself growing After a moment’s thought, she went into the bathroom stronger. The proximity to his anchors—to Tina and Roscoe— and ran a tub. She closed the door, locking out the sunlight, made it easier to draw on their belief. and got in the water. Relaxing her disguise, she assumed her For a moment, Hasmed was pensive, thinking that it was natural form. AND ironic, maybe even a little sad, that each of them feared or “Avitu?” GREG adored him falsely. Tina didn’t think he was Hasmed the This time, she felt a stronger response. SABRIEL… IS THAT…YOU? Fallen—she thought he was her perfect, wonderful Daddy. ANGEL “It is I, Avitu,” Sabriel said out loud. Roscoe had a better idea what was going on, but he still was IT HAS BEEN… MANY YEARS… SINCE MY NAME WAS CALLED. mired in deception. “Where are you?” Hasmed had played his little “Zoth of the Hated Lash” NEAR. OLD… COLLEAGUE. HELP ME… I… IMPLORE YOU… game for a variety of reasons. First off, he wasn’t about to tell WINGS The feeling of size and age and great unmoved mass Roscoe the name “Hasmed.” While it wouldn’t give anyone increased, and with it, Sabriel felt distance and direction… the sort of control Vodantu had with Hasmed’s True Name, and a disjunction that she had not felt since the War of Wrath. it still had power enough. For one thing, it would let people “Avitu… are you inside a different…” She groped for an invoke him, just as he was calling upon his master. English equivalent, but had to fall back on their native lan- But there was a deeper reason for his deception. Hasmed guage, speaking a sound rarely heard on Earth since the Fall. was curious to test Roscoe’s dedication. If push came to ONLY A FRAGMENT, A SHARD. COME TO ME! PLEASE! shove—and Hasmed could think of several ways it might, or “I have not forgotten your loyalty to me during the war. might appear to—where would Roscoe’s loyalty lie? With I will come.” Harvey the human, his friend who wanted to help him and BRING… THEM. who was (seemingly) ignorant of the diabolical nature of “Them? Who? Whom shall I bring?” Those Beyond? Or would Roscoe serve “Zoth” out of fear THE ONES WE LOVE. and personal gain? Hasmed had known mortals. He guessed the latter. It was well past midnight when Hasmed pulled the phone The same day that Sabriel invoked Avitu from the water, from its housing on the seat-back in front of him. He didn’t Hasmed called upon Vodantu from the air. turn it on, but he knew no one would care about a lone His flight was coach class, a redeye, and he had the window business traveler making a call. A solitary traveler talking to seat. Sitting next to him was Lauren, a fifteen-year-old Jersey himself—that was something else again. girl, and beside her on the aisle was her fourteen-year-old He did not call his master in the immortal tongue of the brother. Elohim. Like the name “Hasmed,” he wasn’t about to utter “Quit it!” she kept saying. those words within the earshot of mortals with untested “I ain’t doin’ anything.” loyalty. Instead he used an ancient human language—one of “Mo-om! Make ’im stop!” several that had developed during the days of the rebellion. Jersey mom and Jersey dad had the seats in front of the Those “days,” seen from another perspective, were cen- kids. “You two shut up! Ethan! Quit messin’!” turies or even geological epochs. But in other, equally valid “I ain’t doin’ nothin’!” His voice became whiny. ways, only days passed between the defiance of Lucifer’s army Fifteen-year-old Lauren started to cough. Ethan, her and its defeat at the hands of the Holy Host. brother, got a runny nose. Her father began to feel hot and “My lord Vodantu,” he said in the long-extinct tongue. irritable. The mother became drowsy and depressed. “Your humble servant craves your wisdom.” Hasmed wasn’t doing it on purpose. He wasn’t even aware of it, but his very presence was making them sick. 105 104 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES HASMED. The voice sounded only in his brain. IT HAS BEEN “Oh for the love of…” Rather than say “Christ”—which A LONG TIME SINCE I HEARD FROM YOU. A LONG TIME SINCE YOU would have been Harvey’s reaction—Hasmed tapped Lauren on the shoulder. Immediately her skin went white, and she ENTERED THE MORTAL REALM. “I beg forgiveness, master. Incarnation is difficult, and the struggled out of her seat, running awkwardly up the aisle AND occupation of a human body brings many complications.” toward the bathroom. GREG I AM WELL AWARE OF SUCH COMPLICATIONS. ALREADY YOUR WHAT HAPPENED? COLLEAGUE JORIEL HAS BEEN CAST OUT OF THE MATERIAL WORLD. “A thousand pardons, my liege,” Hasmed said in the ANGEL Hasmed frowned and felt the tickle of fear. “The Dark- extinct tongue. “A mortal interfered with me. I have dealt with ness of the Deeps was a mighty warrior. How came he to her.” YOU WILL NOT HAVE DIFFICULTIES HIDING HER CORPSE? such a defeat?” IT IS UNCLEAR. SURELY YOU KNOW THAT FATE CONSPIRED TO Hasmed could detect a note of approval from Vodantu. He WINGS BRING MANY OF THE FALLEN TO THE CITY CALLED “THE ANGELS” decided to gloss over the details. “Do not concern yourself with it a moment longer.” LATELY? So you didn’t know I was in LA too? Hasmed thought it, Harvey would have said “fuggeddaboudit,” but there was but didn’t say it. He was pretty confident that Vodantu really no equivalent term in the tongue Hasmed spoke. couldn’t pick up his thoughts unless he made an effort to “I have made inroads with a human enterprise.” He broadcast them. After all, they had a long way to go. hesitated. There was also no word in the old language for the THEIR PRESENCE MASKS EVENTS FROM PERCEPTION, EVEN Mafia’s kind of agnostic criminality. All its words relating to MINE. I KNOW JORIEL WAS GREATLY ABUSED WITH MORTAL WEAP- “crime” referred distinctly to religious disobedience. “They ONS, AND I KNOW THAT ANOTHER OF THE FALLEN DELIVERED THE are rebels against the laws of other men. Through violence TERMINAL BLOW. BEYOND THAT, I CANNOT SEE. and duplicity, they take advantage of their fellows. They “Can he return from Hell again?” possess…” He struggled over another language barrier. In- NOT NOW. NOT SOON. PERHAPS NOT EVER… ONLY TIME WILL dividual property was a sketchy concept at best, and using the TELL. BUT IF YOU CAN CALL ME FORTH INTO THE WORLD, IT WILL old words for it—best translated as “items fated to belong solely to one person”—would give the wrong impression. NOT MATTER. “Master, it will not be easy to call you forth.” Finally, he said “They possess usurped authority and control DO YOU TOY WITH ME? Vodantu spoke again, and Hasmed unique items.” ARE THEY SORCERERS? winced as his soul, his entire essence, hummed in time with his lord’s use of his True Name. I KNOW THE DIFFICULTIES. “No, they have no knowledge of such things.” WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO OVERCOME THEM? GOOD. TAKE CONTROL OF THIS MORTAL ORGANIZATION AND “I have enthralled two mortals, master, and they give me USE IT TO GAIN WORSHIPPERS FOR YOURSELF AND FOR ME. strength…” “I am already trying that, but the cursed human form I “Hey.” It was Lauren, in the next seat, giving him a sleepy inhabit is known to them as a coward and weakling.” YOU DO NOT SHOW THEM YOUR TRUE FORM? and suspicious glance. “What’s that language you’re talking?” “It’s none of your business,” he replied, in English, “I lack the strength to cast aside this mortal shell. The glaring at her. world has changed, master. There is no place in it for “It’s not Arabic, is it?” demons made manifest. This cosmos that once welcomed us “Nah, it’s… uh, Russian,” he said. and changed easily under our touch now forcefully resists “It is not…” and attempts to expel us at every turn. Until I can use my full “Look, would you just shut the fuck up?” strength all the time, I dare not show it when I know I will “Hey, fuck you! You can’t talk to me that way. Dad!” She become weak again.” started poking her father’s chair. 107 106 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES THESE MEN WOULD CONTEND WITH ONE FROM THE HOST? He didn’t see it, exactly. It was more like a sound, perhaps, “Yes—even as we battled against the Most High. Most of an irritating buzzing whine, like a mosquito that hovers them do not even believe we exist, or that we ever existed. around your ear and easily floats around all attempts to swat it. They are proud and brazen and stupid.” Or maybe it was a stink, the fell thing’s influence, like the faint AND SHOW THEM. hint of vomit on a drunk’s clothing, even after laundering. GREG “I am, and I shall… but I must build their faith slowly, by Whatever it was, Usiel had noticed it on John Bow and degrees. To that end, I have posed as one of your house.” had selected the mortal for his attentions. ANGEL A NEBERU? At first, he’d thought Bow was a being like him—escaped “They know not that word, but they find it easier to believe from Hell and occupying some mortal’s neglected frame. But in one who can see the future than in one who can move unseen that wasn’t it. He’d seen that Bow still had the human spark or sicken their bodies. It is less threatening to them.” within him. The body’s original tenant was still in control. WINGS IF YOU THINK IT BEST, THEN. Then he wondered if Bow might not be another like Max “Is there any way I can avail myself of your powers of Hirniesen—a human who had somehow attached his soul to perception?” the lost powers of a sundered Elohim. But that wasn’t it DO NOT PRESUME, HASMED. either. The power operating through Bow, while weak, was “Forgive me.” whole. He did not hold it within him like a stolen treasure. WHILE I AM BOUND, MY POWERS ARE TAXED TO THE UTMOST Instead it held him in a miser’s grasp. SIMPLY TRYING TO FOLLOW THE MOVEMENTS OF ESCAPED ELOHIM. In the war, rebel angels had called on human worshippers “I will proceed on my own.” for strength. Apparently, some things never changed. John PERHAPS I CAN DISPATCH RABBADÜN INTO YOUR AREA. HE Bow had sold himself into servitude, obeying dictates from HAS THE SIGHT THAT YOU DESIRE. one of God’s despised in exchange for… money? Health? “It would be a great boon to my plans.” Something else? It didn’t really matter. VERY WELL. SEE THAT YOU LABOR DILIGENTLY ON MY BEHALF, Bow’s body, still vacant, convulsed in Usiel’s grasp. The HASMED. I LONG FOR FREEDOM FROM THIS PUNISHMENT, AND eyes popped open, followed shortly by the mouth. “WHO DARES MOLEST MY SERVANT?” Bow’s lungs pushed the IMAGINING YOUR DEPREDATIONS OF HUMANITY ONLY WHETS MY air, Bow’s lips formed the words, but it wasn’t Bow speaking. APPETITE TO BEST THEM SEVENFOLD. Hasmed swallowed—it was more Harvey’s reaction than It was his demon, his mastermind. his own. The image of Vodantu incarnate, slaying humans Usiel answered the question with one of his own. “Which with impunity… it was as horrifying to the mortal as it was miserable Fell Knight am I addressing?” delightful to the demon. “NO MERE KNIGHT, BUT A DUKE, YOU WRETCHED GRAVE- ROBBER. UNHAND BOW OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!” “I’m quite interested to see what consequences you can “Name your master,” Usiel said. threaten.” “I will never betray him,” the thrall said, eyes bright and At that moment, Usiel saw John Bow’s ghost return to his defiant. body. The dark force within surged and swelled, and Bow Usiel slapped him. It wasn’t a terribly hard blow— lunged forward with inhuman might and unnatural quick- nothing bone-breaking or brain-rattling—but the reaping ness. His grasp broke Usiel’s forearms before the black angel ring was on the hand, and as he struck, he unseated the could turn and fling him away. man’s soul. “Ah, with a mortal’s soul propping you up, you are The current target for Usiel’s contempt and anger was a mighty indeed.” An effort of will, and his arms were whole man named John Bow. John didn’t stand out much if you once more. “But can you battle without the stolen strength looked at him. Maybe a little sickly looking and a little over- of man?” A gesture, and the scythe was in his hand. weight. But Usiel had sensed a demon’s pollution on Bow. 109 108 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES rebels he hated and had fought. Perhaps that was why de- Seeing the scythe, John Bow turned to run. Usiel gave stroying the stone and looting the demon’s spirit had been chase and sheared Bow’s left foot off at the ankle with one such bliss. smooth movement. Forced on by his demon owner, John In any event, Usiel had an ally for the first time in ages. kept running on the stump, but it took only a few more AND It felt good. strokes to carve him into pieces. GREG With no bodily anchor to give it succor, John Bow’s spirit was nearly swept away into the dead storm, but now Usiel’s ANGEL Just for amusement value, Sabriel decided to lure people weapon became a tool. Reaching out gently, he caught the out to the desert without overt sexual promises. She antici- soul before it could be torn asunder and dissolved. pated (correctly) that it would be much more difficult. “In death, you serve me,” Usiel said. “As in life you Sex—there was something about it that made even the bright- served…?” WINGS est humans lose what little wits they had. Bow resisted, but not for long. With his death, his tie to In this case, Sabriel went the bohemian route. She his old liege failed him, and Usiel’s authority took prece- canvassed Las Vegas’s art scene and was not particularly dence. Soon, Bow told the angel of death what little he knew shocked to discover that there was almost no avant-garde. about the other demon’s mortal pawns. He knew only one by Of course not, she reasoned. Anyone who actually can name—a woman called Krebbs who lived in Florida. dance or sing is making money in a casino show. People who More than that, Bow told Usiel about the state of his would be starving sculptors and part-time painters in Miami master’s spirit. Unlike Usiel, who was cased in flesh, this or Philadelphia are building sets here. demon dwelt in stone—in a great diamond that had been Those she finally met were, therefore, a motley collec- broken into smaller pieces years ago. One small piece was in tion of no-talent hacks. a pendant, kept safe around Bow’s neck. She’d started out by getting a local paper—not one tar- Destroying it felt wonderful. Indeed, had he known the geted at gamblers and guests, but one with coupons for joy he would take from the act, Usiel might have forgone the supermarkets and drug stores—and looking at the small ads pleasure. He struck the jewel and stole from it some part of in the back. When she saw a coffeehouse in the suburbs with its master, some delightful, delicious piece of a fallen soul. a poetry reading, she smiled. Usiel could not help but feel that it was an unholy delight, At the poetry reading, she made herself a quietly regal something depraved and cannibal. But despite those feel- black woman, she went back to the name Christina and, after ings, he did not stop. a particularly obnoxious reading (it included the phrase “my Driving away from John Bow’s home, Usiel glanced from black, bleak, slack, weak heart”), she approached the poetess the road to the ring on his hand and wondered again how it and gave her a line of baloney about an “art experience” out had returned to him. While it would be romantic to think in the desert. that his releasing tool had somehow found him due to its “I haven’t heard anything about it,” the poetess—whose destined attachment, Usiel was morbidly confident that such name was Peggy Palermo—said, looking a little suspicious. destiny only occurred when guided by a hand… or a wing. “Well, it’s not really an open thing,” Sabriel responded, Someone wanted him to retrieve his reaper’s scythe. leaning in a bit. “You’ve been to Burning Man, of course…” No one who knew him would doubt what he would do “Of course.” with a device of such rare potency, so it stood to reason that “Well, we’re hoping this will be sort of like that only… someone approved of his agenda. without all the tagalongs. By keeping it small and invite-only, In some nearly dead corner of his heart, Usiel nursed a we think we can really focus on the art.” secret belief that perhaps it was the Almighty forgiving him at That hooked her good. last and offering a chance to prove that he remained loyal, From Peggy, Sabriel got a few other recommendations. even after everything—even after being imprisoned with the A likely one was a potter named Gil Delacerro, whose por- 111 110 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES he implied without stating it that he was dating one of the celain chandeliers were designed to self-destruct when the acrobats but that he might be interested in getting back candles that lit them burned through the strings supporting together with Jennifer.) them. (“A dramatic comment on the transitory nature of art All told, it took her three days to gather a dozen teachers itself,” according to Peggy.) He loudly professed his loathing AND who were really musicians, commercial draftsmen who were for the decadence and commercialism of Las Vegas, but he GREG really painters and advertising copywriters who were really stayed in the area because he’d found a vein of really great clay novelists. Having made contact with Avitu—and the great on some property outside of town. Plus, he had tenure ANGEL demon seemed to be struggling to remain aware—Sabriel had teaching ceramics, sculpture and 3-D design at UNLV. directions to a location in the desert. According to the map, Disguised as Delacerro, Sabriel met Jennifer Arliss, a there was nothing there. Sabriel was quite curious to see what “re-composer.” Jennifer’s job as a librarian and archivist for would happen. EMI gave her access to huge stores of lost music—tunes WINGS Disguised once more as the regal woman of color, composed, copyrighted and sold, but which were now worth- Sabriel rented a Jeep 4x4 and made sure that the artistes less in market terms. Over the course of years, EMI had that knew that there would be some off-roading involved in acquired the rights to hundreds of thousands of pieces of getting to the site. She assuaged their confusion by calling music—incidental music from B movies, theme songs for it a privacy measure. cancelled 1960s sitcoms, advertising jingles for discontin- They rendezvoused at the coffeehouse where Sabriel ued products and companies long bankrupt. Jennifer’s job had first met Peggy. (The demon liked it. It seemed like an was to restore and transfer old recordings from decaying apt sort of closure.) After giving directions to a highway tapes and records into digital formats. In the process, if she mile marker, she set off in the lead with Peggy, Jennifer heard a hook or a melody that she found catchy, she’d buy the and Gustavus. rights from EMI under an assumed name and use it as the For the first several miles, they chattered excitedly about basis for a song of her own. On weekends, she performed what was coming, what they could expect and how exciting it them on synthesizer and guitar to indifferent audiences was that Las Vegas’s neglected “scene” was finally getting throughout Nevada and eastern California. She’d pressed a some attention. There were a few catty comments here and CD and had sold about a hundred copies out of her trunk there, but Sabriel noticed that Peggy expertly re-focused the after shows. group’s spite and insecurity outward—first to passengers in Jennifer gave Sabriel a link to the website that published other cars, then leapfrogging to local writers and musicians pornographic short stories involving the characters from who hadn’t even gotten invited. sitcoms, science-fiction movies and comic books. The site’s “I hope no one tells Howie about this,” Gustavus said, owner—the pseudonymous “James T. Kirkegaard”—claimed patently insincere. “He’s intolerable enough without having a deep and abiding hate for sitcoms, SF movies and comic a mantle of ‘outsider status’ to hide behind.” books, and he insisted that his works were not meant as “Who’s Howie?” Sabriel asked. homage or as titillation. According to him, they served to re- “Oh, a local hack—teaches composition and fiction writ- cast the intellectual properties involved so that the implicit ing at UNLV. He does all this garbagy kitchen-sink realism peccadilloes of their creators would become explicit. All this under his own name—you know, about a college professor in was explained in an article that was longer than any of the the Southwest who has an identity crisis and gets some petty stories and which ended with a manifesto declaring war on revelation about himself while weeding the tomatoes or derivative genre fiction, copyright laws and the concept of something—and he does film reviews. But under an assumed intellectual property. name, he writes stuff for these real low-budget pseudo-arty (It turned out that “James T. Kirkegaard” was Jennifer’s horror magazines.” ex-boyfriend Gustavus Doakes, a prop manager for Cirque du Soleil. When Sabriel approached him in Jennifer’s shape, 113 112 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Christina! What about…?” “You know, he might have gotten an invitation from “Are we supposed to…?” someone else,” Sabriel said. They wondered, but they followed. “Christ, I hope not. His ego hardly needs an invitation to A few brought some things. After some consideration, an ‘elite artistic summit.’” AND Jennifer picked out an acoustic guitar. Gustavus shouldered She smiled and kept driving. GREG a satchel full of writing samples. Others carried instruments “What’s out there?” Jennifer kept asking. or costumes or nothing at all. “The gathering.” ANGEL “Hey,” Gil called. “Who wants courage?” “You said that, but, I mean, where’s it taking place? Is Sabriel’s eyebrow quirked up and she turned to look. He someone’s house out there?” was holding aloft a bottle of Johnnie Walker black label. “Wait and see.” Peggy rolled her eyes and looked at Sabriel. “Typical,” “I took a look on Mapquest’s satellite photo archives,” WINGS she muttered. “A gesture of his antiquated ‘creator as ro- Gustavus interrupted. “There’s nothing there.” mantic rebel’ paradigm.” (Sabriel had noticed how Gustavus had maneuvered to “Still,” Sabriel said, “It is a little cold out here.” She get in the back seat with Jennifer.) gestured for Gil to bring the bottle to her. On the way, “That doesn’t mean much,” Peggy said. “The scale on several others took sips. those is pretty huge right? Plus it could be something tem- Leading them through the darkness, feeling the sting of porary, added since the photo was taken. Or something that communal whiskey fade from her lips, Sabriel felt a sudden blends in and doesn’t show up.” pang of affection. These people had no reason to think they The poetess turned and gave Sabriel an inquiring look, were artists. For every one person who’d ever encouraged but the demoness just kept driving. them, there were a dozen throats laughing, telling them no, At the mile marker, she turned right and started off down saying it would never happen. They had no successes they the dusty track into the silver-lit scrublands. The other could point to, not really. All they had was a feeling, a sense vehicles followed obediently. that they were creative, that they had something to say, Eventually, Las Vegas was just a vague, fried-egg blob of something to share. They didn’t have the skills or the knowl- light on the distant horizon. When its glow no longer rivaled edge or the inspiration, but they just stumbled on anyway, that of the stars and half-moon above, the terrain became getting knocked back by rejection and getting up dumbly, increasingly hilly. Sabriel’s Jeep could go no farther. She wading in again with their guard down, just asking for stopped and the others parked beside her. another wallop. But they didn’t stop, they kept slinking back “What now?” Peggy asked, looking concerned. to art like a kicked dog that knows no other master. “We walk. It’s not far,” Sabriel said, though she had no No angel was that stubborn. Angels didn’t ignore the idea how distant Avitu really was. evidence like that, didn’t choose “what I want” over “what is” “But what about our equipment?” so fiercely, so repetitively, too stupid to think of any other “Don’t worry. You can come back for it.” way or just give up. “Hey, I’ve got a thousand bucks of synthesizers back That was what made them different. The Elohim had the there,” Jennifer said. “What if…?” powers of creation at their command, but only humans had “Do you really think a thief’s going to drive fifty miles past that sheer bloody-mindedness that could take a lie and make city limits and then another twenty out into the desert? it true. Sabriel shook her head and marveled and felt just a Christ, it’s probably safer out here than in your house,” Gil shadow of the love she’d had once, the love that made her give said irritably. He himself had insisted on bringing several up everything for them, that made her step away from God. weighty pieces. The love that had made her a demon. Sabriel got out and started walking. “Hey wait!” 115 114 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES yielding sand. After a moment, he bent down to get it while They had rejected her in the end. Their incalculable faith Gustavus (a half-beat too late for it to seem instinctive) put had been in other things, not in the angels that fell for their his arms around Jennifer, who stepped away. sake. They had skulked away, and she had given up on her The hand cleared sand away and was joined by a second, love. She had to. She couldn’t cling like a lamprey, with AND and then a woman arose from the dust. mindless hunger and hopeless hope. She wasn’t human. GREG “I saw something just like that in ‘Begotten,’” Peggy Her love was dead but uneasy in its grave. whispered to Sabriel. On a whim, she wiped her brow then reached back to help ANGEL Sabriel didn’t take her eyes off the emerging woman—or one of the artists up a sharp slope of sand. She didn’t even woman-shape, for she could sense no soul within it—but she look to see who it was before passing on her gift. whispered back, “Yeah, I think Blue Man Group did it too.” It was Jennifer. The woman before them was small—under five feet tall— As the musician touched Sabriel’s hand, it was like a WINGS with straight dark hair. She was naked, with skin the color of second kind of sight opened behind her eyes. the desert, and her face was completely unlined. She seemed Jennifer blinked then looked up at the milky stars, out neither young nor old. Wordlessly, she gestured for them to across the desert and over the faces of each of the others. follow her. Then she squatted briefly to get out her guitar. “If you play Kum-ba-yah, I’m going to give you such a “It’s flattering that they bothered to set up an introduc- smack,” Gil warned. tion like that,” Gil said. “I mean, it’s kind of theatrical…” “I don’t know, it could be a clever ironic statement,” said The mud woman led them to a very sparse grove of a puppeteer/ carpet-installer. stunted, twisted trees. She pointed at one, the largest (though Jennifer didn’t play Kum-ba-yah, or any other song still under twenty feet tall). Its branches were densely con- they’d ever heard, or anything like any song they’d ever heard. torted and tipped with green needles. The trunk was forked—it She plucked out simple notes and tones and she played the looked like lightning had split it long ago. desert. She strummed chords and the sound was like seeing the “Hey, I know about these,” Gustavus said. “That’s a moonlit gray sand, almost like dust. A note struck here and bristlecone pine, right?” there was somehow right for the air, so cold and thin. She No one answered. played the millions of stars and the moon like a spotlight, the “Yeah, they’re, like, the oldest trees on Earth,” he said, cacti and little trees. And moving through them, she played the clearly warming to the chance to play expert. He walked up to people, each a tiny ball of hope and pride and insecurity the forked tree and peered at it. traveling through the bleak and chilly vastness. “These things are ancient,” he said. “One this old prob- Hearing that song, unfolding on top of what it described, ably sprouted before the pyramids were built in Egypt. was like living twice as much in the same time. The density of Scientists think a bristlecone is most likely the oldest living experience silenced them all, and when Jennifer stopped, thing on the planet. They call them Methuselah Trees, I they realized they were standing in a circle around her. think.” There was nothing they could really say, but Gustavus He reached out and touched the trunk. said, “Wow,” anyway. Everything changed. “That was…” Peggy tried, but she couldn’t say anything. Jennifer just kept blinking. Sabriel smiled. “Almost there.” As they came to the crest of another hill, a human hand erupted from the ground beneath them. Jennifer jumped and gave a little shriek. “Jesus Christ!” Gil said, dropping the bottle (now half-empty) onto the 117 116 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND VIII STOLZE ASHES chapter AND GREG ANGEL eight WINGS “Penny for your thoughts,” Rabbadün said. “I was wondering what you wanted the suitcase for,” Hasmed replied. Rabbadün just grinned his manic grin. “Wait and see. It’s a surprise. You’ll like it.” The other demon had taken a train in to New York City and Hasmed had met him at the station. It had been a relief to feel the presence of another of the fallen and know it was one coming to help him. Rabbadün said his body was Gene Souk, but he was now going by the name Benny Hoakler and, hey, could some of Hasmed’s gangbang pals hook him up with a fake ID? “I think you mean gangland.” “Huh?” “My gangland pals. Not gangbang.” “Right, right,” Gene/ Benny/ Rabbadün had said, hefting two duffel bags. “Gene did every goddamn drug he could get his hands on so, you know, the old brain is kind of in and out. It’s cool though. It’s all right. Gene’s cool, you know?” “Uh huh.” “How’s your fit?” “My fit?” “You know, the shell. The body. Your roommate? Harvey something, right?” “Yeah. Harvey Ciullo.” “Looks kinda beat-up, if you don’t mind me saying.” 119 118 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Are the Giants going to cover the spread? Who’s taking the “It’s a fixer-upper.” fifth race tomorrow? What’s the name of a good long-shot Benny had a good snicker then asked about transporta- bet? You know, that kind of shit.” tion. When Hasmed pointed out Harvey’s car, Benny shook “Hard up for money, huh? Man, you can just take some his head. “Won’t do. Too traceable. We’ll need to steal one. AND out of the satchel if you’re hurting. It’s in the brown one.” Hold on.” He dropped his bags at Hasmed’s feet and stumbled GREG “It’s not that,” Hasmed said, his pride stung. “I need to through the crowd. A few minutes later, he came back. show people some, you know, invisible forces. Give ’em “Got it. Come with me to the second exit. In a couple ANGEL something to believe in.” minutes, a guy with a gray beard and a blue overcoat over his “A no-shit angel isn’t something to believe in?” left arm is going to be on his way out. He’s pissing now: You “Right. I don’t see you flappin’ your goddamn wings.” just need to fade out, steal the car keys from his right front “Yeah, you’re right, you can’t keep it up forever. Not yet, pocket, and we’ll be set. He won’t miss the car until WINGS anyhow. More’s the pity.” nightfall.” “People would freak out.” “Why do we need another car?” “People would lose their shit,” Benny agreed, eyes bright “We’re gonna have some fun.” with malice. “Oh, here we go.” “Look, I was hoping you could just…” He pulled up by a park and eyed a mixed group by the “Hurry, man! This guy’s a cherry opportunity!” Benny corner. There were three women and a man—a boy really, a flashed the grin, and Hasmed caved in, against his better teen in tight jeans and a windbreaker that wasn’t fully ad- judgment. equate for the chill. One of the women looked like she was a Half an hour later, Benny had convinced him to sneak teenager too, skinny and pale in a tube-top under a trans- into Tony Berman’s apartment and steal the biggest suitcase parent plastic coat. She teetered on absurdly high heels, like he could find. “Make sure you wear gloves!” Benny had said. the other two females. Those women were older and wore That done, they’d gotten back in the stolen Lexus and resigned expressions over their feathers and color, beneath cruised toward Murray Hill, Benny threading easily through layers of pancake makeup. The younger ones looked defiant traffic. and, under that, nervous. “Who’s this Berman guy, anyhow?” Hasmed wanted to “Hey! You guys like to party?” Benny hollered. know. “Jeez, don’t you know? Don’t you read the papers an’ “Aw shit,” Hasmed muttered, putting a hand over his shit?” forehead and slouching down in his seat. “Inform me.” After a few minutes of vague talk, all four got in the car. “He’s the son of Clark Berman. You know him right? As Benny blathered at them, Hasmed caught little glints of The, you know, the cop who’s going to run for mayor and power leaking out. Not usually something the Neberu were run out all the fat cats? Chief Berman?” good at: Charisma was far more common among the Bring- “Tony’s his son?” ers of the Word. Benny had apparently acquired the trick of “Uh huh. That’s why this is going to be such a sweet joke!” making people ignore their better judgment, though. “Yeah, well, while we’re doing your ‘joke,’ can we please As they drove away, Hasmed wondered if Benny had used talk some business?” it on him. “This is a business joke, Harvey. I mean, it’s going to be “Yeah, I’m celebrating,” Benny said, turning his head a a good, good time, but it’s also for the cause.” little to shout in the back seat. “I finally got the money my old “Whatever. What would really help my cause is a little man left me when he kicked it. This here’s Gary, my lawyer.” inside information, all right?” “Hi, Gary,” said the hooker who’d crammed in beside “’Bout what?” him in the front seat. Hasmed was squeezed between her on Hasmed shrugged. “Anything that makes me look like a his right and Benny on his left. She reached between his fortune-teller. Who’s gonna win the Rams/ Packers game? knees and started to fiddle with the radio. 121 120 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Yeah, Gary likes men,” Benny informed them at top He clutched her tight and kissed her hard on the lips. volume as he crawled through traffic toward the Triborough “C’mon, sweetie. It’ll be all right.” Bridge. “Me, I’ll do whatever, you know? Anything with a hole She struggled against him, turning away. “Let me go!” and a heartbeat. Hey, y’all like tequila? There’s a bottle in that “You’re feisty,” Benny said playfully as he dragged her AND green satchel.” into the weeds. She opened her mouth to scream, but he had GREG “Viva tequila!” shouted one of the older prostitutes. his arms locked around her torso right under her ribcage. As “Careful with it,” said the boy. “I’ve gotten awful hang- she drew in breath, he squeezed, sharp and hard—like a ANGEL overs from that stuff. It’s more like ‘ta kill ya,’ you know?” Heimlich maneuver. She folded forward slightly and gasped, “Hah, good joke!” Benny replied. but the wind was knocked out of her. They drank as they drove around, though neither Benny “Bring the others, a’right?” nor Hasmed indulged. “Aw crap,” Hasmed murmured. He looked around. WINGS “Where are we going?” Benny had the car keys. Even if Hasmed bailed out, the “East Harlem. Not far now. Somewhere no one will Neberu would probably do whatever he had planned regard- hassle us. I know the way,” Benny said, though Hasmed less. Besides, what’s Vodantu going to think if I’m unwilling privately suspected he was looking for it, scanning fate to find to put down four pathetic mortals? The thought of his someplace unobserved. Shit, with the effort he’s blown on these four nobodies, master invoking his True Name again was enough to get him he could have given me a month’s worth of prophet credibil- to sigh, grit his teeth, and start dragging one of the others ity, Hasmed thought irritably, but there was a tinge of along. She was as limp as a rag doll. “Every goddamn drug,” he said. Yeah, I’ll bet, Hasmed uneasiness there too. The more he was with Benny, the more thought. It’s broad daylight. Is anyone paying attention? But squirrelly Harvey’s instincts became. Everything about his ‘ally’ was making Harvey think, “Run away! Psycho! Psycho!” clearly no one was. “Benny” would have foreseen it. But Hasmed wasn’t going to let some chickenshit mortal’s He followed the noises of struggle and found Benny mental leftovers scare him. kneeling over the hooker. He’d produced a roll of duct tape “All right, here we are.” Benny had found a maze of back from somewhere and was securing her wrists and ankles. alleys and parking lots, edged all around with boarded up Already her mouth was covered. buildings and vacant spaces. This particular spot was over- “Sorry to make you do all the lifting, ‘Gary,’ but could grown with weeds and sickly bushes that had, nonetheless, you pick up the brown duffel, too?” managed to reach a height of nearly three feet. Benny pulled Mutely, Hasmed nodded. This is ridiculous. This is sick. This is beneath me. Hell, up and put the car in park. The Lex stood out like a sore this is beneath Harvey, he thought. He considered hotwiring thumb in the neighborhood. Benny leaned across Hasmed and spoke to the woman by the car and at least saving the other two, but they’d identify the door. “What’s your name, sweetie?” him (or Harvey, at least). “Vanessa.” Besides, why should he bother? “You’re not getting anything to drink, are you? Gary, grab When he returned with the last whore, the boy, Benny that ‘ta kill ya’ bottle from those hogs in the backseat, ’kay? had managed to prop the two passive victims upright. Their Vanessa’s thirsty.” Then he opened his door and got out. eyes were open but glazed, staring forward from slack faces. Turning to comply, Hasmed noticed that the trio in the “Ketamine,” Benny said, by way of explanation. “In back were unmoving and glassy eyed. Vanessa noticed it too. small doses, a fun party hallucinogen. Vitamin K. But you As Hasmed made to hand her the bottle, she jerked her door take enough of it, it paralyzes your whole body while your opened and lunged out—right into Benny’s arms. brain stays perfectly conscious. And everything you see seems like a hideous nightmare!” 123 122 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES the hands of some psycho freak, and it only made sense that He threw his arms wide and transformed. “CHANGE,” he told Hasmed. “SHOW THEM YOUR TRUE the forces doing this were cosmic. Of course angels wanted FORM! THEN THEY WILL BELIEVE!” to torture and kill. Looking around the world they knew, Shaking his head, Hasmed did it. nothing else made sense. AND The three who were drugged didn’t change expression— They couldn’t believe in a loving God, but they could GREG they couldn’t. But Hasmed could see the amazement and believe in demons. dread in the fourth one’s eyes. Where once there were two Rabbadün was cutting Vanessa’s head off, but he was ANGEL men, now there stood two apparitions. taking his time with it, and Hasmed felt a spark of outrage Benny, formerly a bland white man with sandy hair and building within him. He stepped behind the man, the boy, a too-wide smile, was now shaped of shadow and moonlight, the hooker, and he grasped him by the throat. We gave them these bodies as gifts, he thought, pulling a moving man of midnight in the middle of the day. When he WINGS and twisting. They take our gifts and sell them. They soil and spread his wings, stars shown within. His face was flawless. degrade themselves for money. They have so little regard for As Hasmed changed, he felt something odd. His natural our blessings that they lie there and let others defile them. form was shapelessness—a wind that caressed or corroded, a half-seen shape like a gust moving through thick fog. But he He felt the bones separate, felt the life depart and it was was different, somehow. He was a dark and noxious cloud, a good. But it wasn’t enough. chill miasma with wings and human outline. He could feel “LOOK IN THE BAG,” Rabbadün called, seeing the bloodlust something burning out from his face, from the scar and the rising in Hasmed’s face. eye that were the marks of Harvey’s death. Nestled in with the money were tools. Knives. Saws. “LOOK UPON ANGELS, O MORTALS! MARVEL AND DESPAIR!” Bottles of acid. A small, hot chef’s torch designed to put a Rabbadün shouted. With a movement as smooth as the fall of nice brown crust on the top of crème brulée. night, he lunged upon Vanessa. Hasmed used them. He took them to those neglected, “YOU ARE THE FIRST FRUITS OF SACRIFICE,” he said, flicker- despised bodies, and he vandalized them far beyond any- ing the razor edges of his wings along her arm. “BUT SOON ALL thing they’d endured before. He drank in their terror and YOUR ILK WILL DIE. SOON THE WHOLE EARTH WILL BE OUR ALTAR!” realized that Rabbadün and Vodantu were right. There was As he flickered to her other side, Hasmed could see what no point. The humans, with their numbers and their bless- he had written on her, sliced in perfect scrollwork script ings, had far more power over the world than all the angels from elbow to wrist. who fell from Heaven. They had made this modern world, in It said: Vodantu. which God was a joke and kindness an aberration. They had “WATCH AND LEARN YOUR FATE,” he told the others. “THE poisoned the cosmos, had thrown away every chance to redeem it, and now all that remained was to show them what FATE OF THE WORLD!” With Harvey’s body transformed, Hasmed felt less pull of they’d become. the dead man’s revulsion. What he felt instead was a depress- When they were finished, Rabbadün wrapped the young ing sense of triteness, of banality… girl’s dismembered torso in plastic and put it in Tony …until their belief seeped in. Berman’s suitcase. Then he gathered his possessions, put Even through the haze of drugs and terror, they believed. them in the duffel, and changed back into Benny. They saw the wings and heard the voice, and they believed. “I love it,” he said as they tramped back toward the car. They were the living residue of society’s apathy, they made “Not a spot of blood on our clothes or hands or anything.” their meager ways enduring the pleasure of others, and they Hasmed nodded. He felt exhausted and confused and, couldn’t believe in guardian angels and benevolent fates. But once again, sad. He wanted Tina. this—the slicing and the smiles, this they could believe. Every “Gene always wanted this, you know,” Benny said. “He day on the street they thought about this, about falling into did it once, then overdosed. What a pussy, huh?” 125 124 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Yeah.” At first, the artists found themselves in light. Their “The name was his idea. Benny Hoakler. Benny Ho- blindness faded in time, though the searing brilliance was Killer. Get it?” still present. “Funny.” They looked down at a ground that was no longer soil, but AND “I’m going to drop the suitcase by the police station cloud. They stood by a tree made not of wood, but lightning. GREG where Tony’s dad works. Either he’ll cover it up and “Shit,” Gil muttered, looking up and down. abandon his principles, or he’ll have to investigate his own “The shapes,” Peggy said. “Look, the… the shapes are ANGEL son. Sweet, huh?” the same.” “Unless he’s a hypocrite. Unless he was bullshitting about Looking at the lightning tree, they could see, far above all that anti-corruption stuff.” them, a firmament of earth. The ground and the sky had Benny shrugged. switched places, up was down, and the frozen thunderbolt WINGS “If so, well, whatever. At least we’ve put a scare in people, by which they stood had the exact same shape as the tree right?” Benny popped open the trunk. “They’ll find those above/ beneath them. It was the tree they’d touched. The fuckers, and it’ll be worth some nightmares. I mean, it’s not Methuselah Tree. like the Devil Night’s Quake out west, but…” “What is this?” Jennifer asked, lower lip trembling. “It’s nothing near 9/11.” “What… how can…?” “Yeah. Hey, did you know the humans did that one all on Gustavus put his hand on her shoulder, and this time it their own?” was pure instinct. “Okay,” he said. He was blinking rapidly “Nah.” and his lips were working. “Okay. Okay. Gil was in on it, “For real.” Benny sighed as they got in the car. “And this clearly.” is really just a pastiche of the Black Dahlia and that movie “In on what?” Gil demanded. Seven. Honestly, we can’t beat them at this stuff. Only learn “The booze. You drugged us, right? I mean, it’s okay. from them.” We’re all, you know, sophisticated adults, mature and, hey, Hasmed sank a little lower in the passenger seat. “We’ll this is worth it, this illusion, it’s, it’s… really something…” never be as cruel as them,” he said. “Because we will never be “You’re babbling,” Gil said. “I didn’t dose you with as powerless.” anything!” Benny nodded. He seemed deflated. “You think this is some kind of hallucination?” Rudy, “Well,” Hasmed added as they pulled into traffic. “At the carpet-installer who did radical Marxist puppet shows least you’re getting the master’s name out there.” asked, doubtful. Benny cackled. “Yeah, we’re building brand identity. “Why, why not? I mean they, uh, get us out in the desert Oh, and hey: Packers, no, Maple Thunder and Ruy Lopez.” in a suggestible state, they… maybe drug us… and this is “Huh?” all… like when Doug Henning made the Statue of Liberty “All that stuff you wanted to know earlier, man. Keep up! disappear.” The Packers are gonna beat the Rams—if Kurt Warner gets “That was David Copperfield,” Peggy said absently, but hurt in the second quarter, which is how things are aspected. she wasn’t really paying attention. She was staring at the vast Otherwise Rams. The Giants aren’t going to cover the point trunk of light—much bigger than the tree, though its form spread, mainly because of bad weather. Maple Thunder, the was identical—and she was noticing how the hair on her arms heavy favorite, takes the fifth race tomorrow. And this guy stood up as she reached toward it. She decided not to touch. Ruy Lopez is going to come out of nowhere and really “This is real,” Jennifer stated flatly. dominate the NASCAR circuit—for a couple races at least.” “I’ll be the first to admit it’s an incredible installation!” Gustavus shouted. “This is, without a doubt, the most amaz- ing art experience I’ve ever, ever had. But that doesn’t mean 127 126 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES I can’t, can’t enjoy it without believing in it. This is a trick! She had said it in the same flat, gravelly tone she’d used It’s got to be. Legerdemain, slight of hand, illusion!” before, and her pronunciation was odd. She spoke as if she “Where’s Christina?” an atonal composer asked, look- didn’t really understand the words, as if she was simply pro- ing around. nouncing foreign syllables. Her face remained flat and AND “See!” Gustavus said, as if that proved anything. “She expressionless. GREG snuck away when we were distracted. A classic illusionist’s “I think we’re moving to the next act of the drama,” gambit.” He looked at the mud woman who had led them Gustavus said, his voice tinged with hysteria. “Now it gets ANGEL there, and he gave her a deep, theatrical bow. “I commend interactive. They put our minds in a strange space and see you,” he said. “I mean it. My hat is off to you and everyone how we react. Okay. This has been an absolutely brilliant else involved in this. It’s amazing! It’s the, the ne plus ultra. production so far, so I’ll play along and act as if this was all But please tell these people that it’s, you know, just a show. real…” WINGS “Would you please shut up!” Gil shouted. An artwork. You know.” She spoke to him in gravelly tones, but no one could “Oh, I think you just excluded yourself from the ‘wis- understand what she said. dom’ race,” Gustavus retorted. “Gus, honey, calm down,” Jennifer said. “Look. Really “Gustavus, if you could just…” look. How could they… how could they change the whole sky?” “Which of you is the wisest?” the woman asked again. “I don’t know. Rear projection, holograms. There was “Well, let’s see. I believe Gil here has the most advanced that guy, in Central Park who projected stuff on trees and degree… terminal MFA, right Gil? I always thought that clouds, remember?” sounded like some sort of illness. But anyway, he’s got the most education. Or at least the most formal education. Should we “If you think this is a big fake, go touch the lightning,” Peggy said. privilege that, though? Is class work and theory really more “If you think this isn’t an illusion, then what the hell is it?” relevant to art than experience and emotional intensity?” “I don’t know, but…” She looked around. “What are we “Gus, please…” “By that standard, Jennifer is the most experienced in standing on?” She crouched, but the fog by their ankles was too thick to see through. When she tried to clear it away, some ways. I mean, if you have to suffer to create, her more swirled in to obscure her ankles and feet. She hesitated, childhood is probably…” “Shut up! Shut up! Don’t tell them!” she shrieked. Peggy then put her face in it. It came out beaded with water. “I can’t reach the bottom,” she said with a terrible kind of and Gil stared—their amazement compounded—as Jennifer calm. “My feet are supported but my hands go right through it.” lunged at Gustavus, swinging her guitar like a weapon. He “Nobody move,” The puppeteer said. He too had squat- turned pale and stumbled back, hands up, but the naked ted and was feeling around. “We could fall off at any moment.” woman seized Jennifer in a grip that was clearly quite power- “Hah,” Gustavus said. “It’s just another trick. A good ful. Jennifer jerked to a stop like a chained dog at the end of one! An excellent, magnificent one, but it’s all a trick.” He a leash, and the brown woman wasn’t budged at all. started stomping around. “Hey, maybe we’re hypnotized, “Fine, fine, okay. I’ll, you know… I never bought the did you think of that? Or maybe I’m hypnotized and the rest idea that suffering created art at all, because lots of people of you are laughing at me. Is that it? Some kind of stage who are non-artists suffer and produce nothing. Famine hypnotism?” zones should be hotbeds of creativity by that logic and they’re “Oh please give the solipsism a rest!” Peggy barked. not…” Gustavus’s words were coming faster and faster, “We’re not hypnotized! We’re not in an ‘art experience’! rising in pitch and volume as his eyes widened. He couldn’t We’re floating in a motherfucking cloud!” seem to stop himself. It was as if his mouth had been cut and “Which of you is the wisest?” asked the naked woman. he was bleeding aesthetic conjecture. They all turned. “You’re such a prick,” muttered the composer. 129 128 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “But am I a fool?” Gustavus asked, eyes wild. “Who’s the myriad iterations of existence. There, every thought and bigger fool? The person who believes their senses when they action existed simultaneously as infinite variations of itself. could be getting tricked, or the one who doubts his senses Sabriel had felt this before, back when the world was not despite the, the total coherence of their nonsensical input?” fully made, when the Elohim were still constructing it. AND “This is insane,” Jennifer murmured. The brown girl Apparently Avitu had either found an unformed remnant of GREG had released her when she stopped struggling, and now she primal reality, or—far more likely—she had re-created the was slumped, looking dully at her wrist where she’d been chaos of the early cosmos for some reason of her own. ANGEL grabbed. There was a brown smear on it. Sabriel felt a moment of spiritual vertigo as all her myriad “You win, Gus,” Peggy said, rolling her eyes. “Jesus responses and thoughts coursed around her, but it took only Christ, not many guys could go through… this… and make it an instant to adapt and remember. In a way, it was comforting, all about them, but you can manage it.” She gave him a few like coming home. It was only Christina who was puzzled and WINGS sarcastic claps. “There’s your wise man!” she yelled at the mud paralyzed by experiencing all potentials partially, feeling them woman. “There he is! Smarter than all the rest of us! Sees stream together into the one act/ thought/ instant, like grains through your tricks! Won’t get fooled again! Ta daaaa!” She of sand flowing through the pinch of an hourglass. The gestured extravagantly. unlikeliest existed only for a flicker of a moment, while the The woman from the dust walked over to Gustavus and more probable were longer and more stable, until her every put a hand on either side of his face. He had time for one last choice resolved into reality, casting shadows of minor varia- worldly, superior smirk before she forced him to his knees. tion in every direction. The way he moved immediately told the others some- “Avitu,” she asked. “What is this?” thing was wrong. He didn’t struggle—or if he did, his strength She did not need to speak out loud, of course. There was was so mismatched that it was no real contest. He went down no air to carry the vibrations in this space, no dimensions for as if someone had chained a safe to his head and dropped it them to travel through. But, for the convenience of the off a bridge. He had time for one strangled gasp, one sound human brain that would need to recall it later, Sabriel chose of surprise, before his skull cracked open. Like a nutshell, it to conceive verbal thoughts. went in on the sides and folded up in the center. For a She felt, more than heard, the other demon’s reply. second, it almost looked comical, before the witnesses grasped Avitu’s moods and mind were moving at glacial speed, but exactly what it meant, what they were seeing. Then the woman Sabriel could already sense them quickening. THIS IS MY DOMAIN. THE WORLD IS FLAT, BUT I HAVE KEPT MY split open the skin beneath his hair and calmly began scoop- ing his brains into her mouth. SECRET FOLDS IN SPACE AND TIME. “Where are the artists?” IN A FROZEN MOMENT, A PROPITIOUS TIME FROM LONG AGO When Gustavus touched the tree, Sabriel felt Avitu awaken. THAT I HAVE PRESERVED. It was terrifying and thrilling. It was like swimming in the sea Sabriel felt a thrill of excitement. Stopping time! Back and feeling the water carry you upward as a whale rises before the war, no one of Avitu’s house knew such great beneath you. The world rippled as Avitu approached, and secrets of the House of Eternity. Sabriel knew what it was to be dwarfed. “How can you do that? How have you learned the secrets Then she was in another place. of true time?” It was not merely another area of the same space—that I LEARNED, NOT FROM THEM, BUT FROM MEN. AFTER THE space known as “the world” which contained the sun and the WAR, MEN FOUND PIECES OF THE SLAIN FROM BOTH SIDES AND, Earth and all the stars. It was a different type of space CRAVING POWER, BECAME ONE WITH THEM. IT WAS ONE SUCH entirely—a different context of mind and matter. It was an WOMAN WHO CALLED ME OUT OF HELL AND BOUND ME INTO unformed bubble of potential where all things passed through THE PINE. 131 130 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES ARE YOU SO SURE THEY ESCAPED PUNISHMENT? LOOK AT “How was this possible?” SHE HAD PART OF A MIGHTY SOUL, PART OF ONE OF THE THEM NOW: FRIGHTENED, DIVIDED AND ALIENATED FROM GOD. GUARDIANS OF THE SPHERES. BUT WITH ALL THAT MIGHT, SHE “Their suffering is by their own hands. Ours was in- WANTED ONLY SIMPLE, SHORT-SIGHTED THINGS. AMPLE FOOD. flicted on us because we dared to love fully. It’s not the same AND PROTECTION AGAINST HARM. SICKNESS FOR HER IMAGINED EN- thing at all.” Even as she said it, Sabriel became more GREG cautious. If Avitu—or whatever Avitu had become—loved EMIES. “When was this?” humankind, Sabriel would gain nothing from declaring war ANGEL I KNOW NOT: WHEN IS IT NOW? against them. “It is the dawn of the new millennium, by the Christian “What happened after you were called?” FOR MANY YEARS, I GAVE THE SHAMAN WHAT SHE WANTED. I calendar.” I KNOW NOTHING OF “CHRISTIANS.” THE PEOPLE YOU WINGS FED HER POWER UNTIL ALL HER DESIRES WERE MET AND SHE HAD TO BROUGHT, THEY ARE NONE OF THEM NATIVE TO THE LAND. HOW MAKE NEW ONES. THEN SHE CAME TO ME AND SOUGHT WISDOM, WHICH I DID NOT HAVE EITHER. BUT TOGETHER WE SPOKE AND LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN THIS PLACE? “Hundreds of years. How long ago were you summoned?” CONSIDERED AND, AFTER MANY YEARS, BECAME WISE TOGETHER. LONG. WHEN I WAS BOUND WITHIN THE TREE, IT WAS BUT A “Indeed? What did you learn from her?” SAPLING. WHAT OF YOU? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN FREE? I LEARNED WHAT IT IS TO BE IGNORANT AND AFRAID, FEELINGS NOT NATIVE TO THOSE OF OUR ILK. I ALSO LEARNED OF FAITH AND “Less than a year. I was not summoned, but I escaped on my own.” CURIOSITY—TWO OTHER TRAITS THAT ARE NOT NATURAL TO US. AND HOW COME YOU TO BE TIED TO A MORTAL BODY? SUCH “Faith? We lack faith? We, whose first memories are of being crafted by the Allmaker’s hand?” THINGS DID NOT HAPPEN IN THE OLD AGES. THAT IS NOT FAITH. WHAT WE HAD WAS CERTAINTY. “I do not know.” NOW THAT YOU ARE FREE, WHAT IS IT YOU SEEK? “We had faith in humanity, and look how that repaid us.” WE HAD FAITH IN OUR ABILITY TO DO ONLY RIGHT. IT WAS Sabriel considered, carefully. She spared glances for the THAT FAITH THAT WAS FALSELY PLACED. IN OUR EAGERNESS TO potentials in which she spoke instantly—for those where she told the truth, for those where she lied, for those where she HELP HUMANITY, WE HURT THEM FAR WORSE THAN ANY CURSE FROM GOD. OUR ILL-CONSIDERED “GIFT” HAS BECOME THEIR was evasive. In each, she saw ghosts of Avitu’s possible re- MOST BURDENSOME PROBLEM, AND I—FOR ONE—HAVE SEEN THE sponses. In the end, she decided to tell the truth. “I seek revenge.” ERROR OF OUR WAYS. REVENGE ON WHOM? THE ONE ABOVE WHO CAST US DOWN? “How can you possibly think that what we gave them— “Perhaps, but the One Above is beyond my reach. No, truth, awareness and knowledge that they were themselves—is instead I’ll get even with humankind.” a curse?” WHAT SCORE WOULD YOU SETTLE WITH THEM? IS A BIRD IN THE WILD HAPPIER KNOWING THAT THE HUNTER’S SNARE AWAITS IT? THAT A BEING FAR MORE CUNNING AND “Surely you remember how they betrayed us? At the war’s end, not one would stand beside us. Not one would POWERFUL THAN ITSELF LONGS FOR NOTHING MORE THAN ITS pray on our behalf.” DEATH AND CONSUMPTION? THE WAR WAS LONG AGO, AND I HAVE FORGOTTEN MANY “Our gift was given before they knew death, before they even grasped what death was!” THINGS. IF THEY HAD LEARNED IT, EARNED CONSCIOUSNESS AS THE “I will never forget,” Sabriel said fiercely—her anger so MAKER INTENDED, PERHAPS THEY WOULD WIELD ITS POWER MORE strong that she no longer bothered to foresee the other SKILLFULLY. INDEED, WITHOUT THE GIFT OF CONSCIOUSNESS— creature’s responses. “We fought God for them, lost every- WITHOUT LUCIFER’S CURSE—MANKIND COULD NEVER HAVE PAINED thing because of them, and all so that we might give everything YOU WITH BETRAYAL. WITHOUT THE SENSE OF SELF, COULD THEY to them! What did we get in return? We were their scapegoats, condemned to the Pit so that they might rule the world.” 133 132 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES BE SELFISH? COULD THEY CHOOSE COWARDICE? NO, WITHOUT seemed like rock—inflexible, weighty and immobile—it now flowed freely as mud in rain, changing and reshaping. The THE CURSE, THEY WOULD HAVE KNOWN ONLY THE DUMB FEAR OF woman stood taller, her meaty hips and waist slimming, THE ANIMAL DURING THE WAR—A WAR WHICH WOULD, OF COURSE, lengthening. Her features re-formed, becoming finer, eyes NEVER HAVE HAPPENED. AND “Without consciousness, there would be no art, no cre- wider, cheeks higher, chin more delicate. She became pretty, GREG ativity, no sharing…” then beautiful, then stunning. YET I LOOK TO YOUR PAST AND I SEE YOU RUINING ART, POISONING As she transformed, her skin tones changed as well. They ANGEL still retained the dirt brown of the desert floor, turned gray CREATIVITY, SOILING WHAT GIFTS THE HUMANS COULD SHARE. Sabriel felt a prickle of fear when she realized how much in the chill moonlight, but they became warmer and richer. Avitu had awakened, and how quickly. Her flat, straight hair curled and became lustrous chestnut YOUR DESIRE FOR REVENGE IS AS PETTY AND UNWORTHY AS THE locks cascading down her bronze, naked back. WINGS BETRAYAL THAT INSPIRED IT. YOU DO NOT WANT THEM TO MERELY “There,” she said. “That’s better. Now we should be able LACK THE BLISS OF COMMUNION. YOU WISH THEM TO KNOW THE to communicate more easily.” PAIN OF ISOLATION. THAT IS WHY YOU HAD SUCH STRONG FEEL- Modestly, she wiped her mouth. INGS FOR “JENNIFER,” THE ONE WHO REACHED FOR CREATION SO In a sickening instant, Jennifer realized two things. First was that this thing—while speaking in tones undeni- LONG BUT NEVER HAD IT IN HER GRASP. “What are you doing to the artists?” ably feminine, indeed, almost cooing—said the words with THEY HAVE A DIFFICULT CHOICE. I WOULD DEARLY LOVE TO Gustavus’s inflections and intonations. GIVE THEM THE GIFT OF SWEET SURCEASE BY TAKING AWAY LUCIFER’S The second was that its features were a little bit like her CURSE. BUT I NEED THEIR COMPLICATED REGARD, FOR NOW. I own, only perfected, fetishized, fantasized. Through in- NEED THEIR FAITH. PERHAPS I CAN HEAL THEM WHEN I NO LONGER stinct or intuition, she knew that she was looking at Gustavus’s desires made flesh. NEED THEM. She bent over and vomited into the clouds. Jennifer—who, moments before, had wanted nothing more than to brain Gustavus with her guitar—now tried, too “You know my goals, Avitu. What are your own?” I FEEL NO ANIMOSITY TOWARD THE MAN-CHILDREN, the other late, to save him. Gil, too, rushed on the naked woman when demon replied. I WISH TO UNDO THE WRONG WE HAVE WROUGHT. he realized what she was doing. So did the puppeteer and a WHERE THE MORNINGSTAR BROUGHT UNWELCOME LIGHT, I WILL woman who made masks out of blown glass and crystal. The GIVE THEM THE PEACE OF A SWEET, DREAMLESS NIGHT. I SHALL others threw up, hid their eyes or simply stared in shock. REMOVE HIS CURSE, AS I TRIED BEFORE, BUT THIS TIME, I WILL HEAL It didn’t matter. They couldn’t stop her. They couldn’t THEM ALL. BELIEVE ME, SABRIEL, THEIR LAST CLEAR THOUGHTS even slow her down. They seized her arms and pulled, but it was likely trying to pull against a forklift. Pushing her body WILL BE GRATITUDE FOR THE COMING IGNORANCE. was like trying to budge a highway overpass. She looked like Sabriel was not paying full attention to Avitu’s ideas, a woman, but she was stone. because she was busily scanning the possibilities that swarmed The mask-maker accepted these facts more readily than around both of them. Avitu’s thoughts were visible—vague the others, and tried to pull Gustavus’s body away instead. and bizarre, alien and erratic, but those of Sabriel’s house For her insight, she earned a shove from the brown woman. were sometimes called the Angels of Comprehension, and It didn’t look terribly powerful, but it was enough to stagger the other creature’s purpose was gradually taking shape. A her back several feet. By the time she recovered, the stone future was clarifying, and Sabriel didn’t like it. While Avitu creature’s grisly meal was done. was certainly pleased that the Lammasu had come, gratitude Gil and Jennifer and the puppet-master stopped when was not an element of her mental landscape. It was more and the woman stood and changed. Where once her body had more obvious that the demon in the tree was deciding that 135 134 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Sabriel’s plans did not fit within her own, and that the one “No, I am not,” the naked woman replied, her voice who awakened her should be repaid with destruction. kindness itself. “I could not make myself understood until I Sabriel began scanning frantically, trying to find a way to had Gustavus’s vocabulary, his memories and frame of ref- escape. Her most obvious actions all led her directly into erence. It’s unfortunate that I had to seize them so crudely, AND Avitu’s trap, because Avitu could readily anticipate the ac- but now that we can communicate—” GREG tions of an angel. “It’s unfortunate?” Jennifer’s eyes were wide and her One thin flicker of hope wavered. voice was shrill. “You murdered him! You fucking ate his ANGEL It was a very unlikely act—less probable than Sabriel brain, and now you say it’s unfortunate?” choosing to join Avitu or choosing to destroy herself or “I needed what he had, and I took it. His knowledge is trying to invoke God the Allmaker’s forgiveness and pity— much more useful in my hands than in his. All his ideas, all but it was possible and unexpected, and it just might work. his conjecture only wound him tighter and tighter in bonds WINGS In the slender microsecond when the choice could be- of misery, ignorance and discord. I don’t expect you to come real, Sabriel let herself be Christina Vadrudakis. understand this,” she said with a smile of sweet tolerance, “But Gustavus is better off dead than afflicted by the madness of awareness.” “Who are you?” Peggy whispered, staring at the creature “The same madness we all have,” Peggy said. that had formed before them. “What are you?” “Yes.” “You can call me Avitu,” the beautiful murderess re- plied. “I’m not, really. No more than Rudy’s marionettes are him,” she said, gesturing to the man who did Marxist puppet “You want to take away ‘Lucifer’s curse’ now, huh? Make shows. “I’m not Avitu, but it’s Avitu’s voice that speaks us all babies again? Turn us back into apes or Cro-Magnons through me.” or something?” “Who is Avitu?” Gil asked. Sabriel felt a strange sense of unreality as she followed “Avitu is the tree of knowledge. Avitu is the protector of foreign instincts, letting Christina’s false understanding, her people. Avitu is the realm around you and the ruler of Greek language and vague vocabulary drift out when they’d that realm.” been so ruthlessly repressed for months. Of course, in this Jennifer dropped her guitar and stumbled to Gustavus’s space, the specific language spoken mattered very little. YOU ARE MAKING MOCK OF THINGS THAT YOU DO NOT corpse. She planted a hand over her mouth and stared. Then she said, “Why did you kill Gus?” FULLY GRASP. “Gustavus was suffering, poor child,” the woman re- “Oh, I grasp it all right. You used to be all fired up about sponded, and when Jennifer glanced up, the look of Lucifer’s program, right? You fought in his war, followed compassion on features so similar to her own renewed her his orders, the whole thing! Now you’ve changed your mind sense of nausea and vertigo. “His mind was feverish with the again and decided to steal away this, this present because you disease of consciousness. Like all of you, he suffered because don’t like what we’re doing with it. You don’t like losing the he knew too much and understood too little. Now his game, so you’re taking your ball and going home!” suffering is over.” It was working. Sabriel could feel Avitu’s confusion and “What do you want from us?” Gil asked, his face pale, his dismay. The great demon was switching gears, trying to words full of dread. adjust itself to deal on human terms instead of celestial ones, “I only want to help you—to help all humanity recover but it was still weary from centuries of slumber. WE WERE WRONG TO AWAKEN YOUR MINDS. WE WERE WRONG, from the curse that torments you.” “Oh God, she’s going to kill us all!” the mask-builder cried. AND YOU PAID FOR IT, AND WE PAID FOR IT, AND THE WORLD PAID FOR IT. I WANT TO UNDO THAT WRONG. “I bet you’re totally sure you’re right now.” 137 136 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES I AM RIGHT. Sabriel could sense Avitu’s growing anger, but the result was the same. He sailed off into the pillar of but it was tempered by an inhuman patience with humanity. light and was destroyed with a sharp ozone crack. The former guardian was getting more and more bewil- The artists scattered. The stone woman chased Sabriel dered, unsure whether Sabriel was demon or mortal or fruitlessly, leaping after her but unable to match her speed. AND somehow both. Bolts of lightning lashed out from the trunk of fire, but the GREG “You’d have said the same thing before when you be- flying fallen stayed too close to the humans for Avitu to aim lieved the total opposite!” with confidence. ANGEL There! Scanning the futures around them, Sabriel “Stop!” bellowed Avitu’s puppet. “Stop! Stop!” figured she’d hit the moment of Avitu’s greatest confu- But the succubus didn’t stop until she’d killed the mask- sion, greatest distraction. She gathered as much strength maker and another sculptor too. Of the original dozen as she could… artists, only half remained. WINGS (…in Miami, Thomas Ramone was bussing a load of soiled Sabriel was exultant. Her fear of Avitu, her plans for plates back to the dishwasher at Solly’s Pizza-n-Subs when he escape, her subtle ploys to sow despair—all were rinsed out of was struck by a wave of dizziness. One leg buckled, and he her by a warm wave of bloodlust. Grabbing Jennifer by the stumbled forward into the corner of the kitchen door. He hit throat and lifting her into the sky, it was all she could do to his head, hard, falling and destroying most of the tray of refrain from squeezing that tender neck purple. But she crockery. When he was taken to the hospital, the diagnosis was resisted, even going so far as to lace her legs around the dehydration…) musician to hold her more safely. …and fled. When the next streak of electricity snapped, Sabriel turned toward it instead of away. It still missed her. As she’d guessed, Avitu wasn’t about to endanger the few mortals One minute, there were the eleven remaining artists and who remained. the brown goddess that had killed Gustavus. With a flare of “Let me go!” Jennifer screamed, clawing at Sabriel and brilliant color, like white light broken by water, Sabriel ap- squirming. peared from the column of the thunderbolt. For a moment “Sorry, but that’s my line,” Sabriel told her. Raising her they saw her as the black woman they’d known as Christina, but voice, she called to her captor. “Avitu! Release me!” she changed before their eyes, growing in size, growing in “After watching your wanton slaughter of my guests? magnificence. She spread wings of ice and foam above them Never!” and swept downward. In a state of terror that was surreal in its intensity, “What…?” Peggy said, raising an arm to shield her eyes as Jennifer had a brief moment to consider how odd it was that she tried to track the flying figure against the brilliant bolt. the same being that killed Gustavus would be angry at this Sabriel was too swift for the mortal to follow, however, turning other creature for killing Gil and Peggy—and, in all likeli- in the air and lifting her from behind. The poetess had a hood, Jennifer herself. moment to cry out—not even a proper scream—before Sabriel “Let me go, or you’ll have no guests!” laced her hands behind Peggy’s neck and bent it forward until The mud woman threw back her head and screamed in it broke. anger. Jennifer shrieked again, and the others joined in. “Do it!” Sabriel shouted. “Do it or you can drop back “Sabriel! Stop at once!” shouted the naked creature, but into sleep, you can fall into oblivion for another thou- the flier paid no heed. A clap of wings, a sweep of ice, and sand years!” then Gil was dead too. “Agreed,” Avitu said. “Just drop Jennifer. Please.” “Stop it! Stop it!” Rudy screamed, flailing his fists wildly “Let me out first!” at this new danger as it plunged in to seize him. He struggled to free himself—maybe he succeeded, maybe he was thrown, 139 138 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND IX STOLZE ASHES In the swirling cloud floor, a hole opened. Looking through, Jennifer had a vertiginous vision of the desert, at chapter night, normal. “Take me with you?” Jennifer pleaded. AND “Sorry,” the winged thing replied. It released her right GREG before plunging through the portal. Jennifer clawed her way toward it, but it was too late. ANGEL nine Sabriel emerged over the desert, over the grove of Methuselah Trees, and kept flying at full speed until she WINGS reached the cars. Then she drove back to Vegas with the gas floored the entire time. As she fled, clouds barreled in from over Lake Mead. They moved fast and scuttled on legs of lightning. The storm caught up to her over the city, soaking its glitz and gamblers. Behind her, Sabriel did not see another hand erupt from the soil—this time, a man’s hand. Hasmed got out of bed. Tina was still asleep in her room as he got in the shower and turned it on. Several weeks had passed since he’d killed Vanessa, and Teddy Mason sat up in bed, a look of wonder on his face. he was behind schedule. He’d quit Harvey’s old job (clerking “Avitu!” he said. “The tree’s name is Avitu!” at a hardware store) and had rented a small office in a dingy Next to him, his wife grumbled and turned over. old building. He’d paid some bills and minded Tina and put the word out about his new business, but his plans—still The next day, Hasmed picked Tina up from preschool, immature and barely formed—seemed to be stretching away made her macaroni and cheese for supper, patiently per- from his grasp even as he trudged toward them. suaded her to eat her carrot sticks and sent her to bed around He blamed humanity for this problem. Specifically, his nine o’clock. own humanity. As he sat in the living room, trying not to think about His body—this lousy, pudgy, sickly body he’d scraped up Vanessa, he felt a sudden, insistent pull. Someone was out of the dirt—was an unceasing source of petty, irksome speaking his name, someone nearby. demands. If it wasn’t eating, it was sleeping. If not sleeping, It took him a moment to realize that it was Tina in the crapping. The thing still got cigarette cravings, though next room. He’d heard her say her prayers, and now she was Hasmed had ruthlessly crawled through every inch of its veins lying in bed whispering “Hasmed, Hasmed, Hasmed,” over and cells and glial connections rooting out the physical and over. causes of addiction. The psychological compulsion that had been ingrained by Harvey’s years of abuse was just as strong. He might have cleaned the nicotine stains off its fingers, but they wouldn’t come off the mind—not even after death. And digestion! It was just plain misery. All food tasted the same to the demon, so sticking to a wholesome diet (fruits, whole-wheat bread, raw vegetables, rice cakes and a little tuna fish now and then) was not difficult. It was just so constant. Every five to eight hours, with thirst even more frequent. 141 140 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Without his paycheck from Solly’s, Thomas was in a With consumption, of course, came the inevitable by- tight spot. Not only did he need the money, ongoing proof products. Hasmed had easily fixed Harvey’s chronic digestive of employment was a term of his parole. He’d gotten a problems (mainly by switching his diet from high-fat to suspended sentence and a year’s probation after his first high-fiber), but even without hemorrhoids and heartburn AND arrest for housebreaking. He had a month and a half and flatulence there were still the physical acts. Pissing and GREG probation left, and he was doing a great job of foxing the shitting. Shaking and wiping and flushing. What a colossal drug tests, so he didn’t want to screw anything up. But all waste of time! At least with sleep he was barely aware of how ANGEL that was standing between him and a parole violation— much opportunity he was throwing away. which would drop his two-year prison term on his head like Eight hours of sleep. Another two hours for meal prepa- an anvil—was his second job working the night shift at a local ration, consumption and defecation. Thanks to Harvey’s video rental place. laziness, he was fighting an uphill battle at the gym for an WINGS Mr. Yamamura might have been loud and pushy, but hour and a half a day. Plus all the miscellaneous money- underneath it all, he was not a scumbag. The same could grubbing, light-bulb-changing, dressing and undressing, not be said for Mr. Kneller, the video store owner. Tom shaving and shampooing and applying of underarm deodor- had gotten the job at Video Villa through Franklin, one of ant that occupied so much of mortal life. And the little his weed-smoking buddies and a Video Villa day clerk. girl—fuggeddaboudit it! Parent-teacher conferences (“Tina Franklin was all right, but he had a big mouth, so Mr. seems to be having trouble adjusting to her new surround- Kneller quickly learned that Thomas was in bad shape. As ings”) and story-reading and trying to get her to bathe and soon as Kneller realized that he was the only thing keeping eat right, constantly buying her new clothes when she out- Thomas out of slam, he slipped effortlessly into Pushy grew the old ones… He barely had eight hours a day to do his Bastard mode. He soon had Thomas working extra over- master’s work. time hours at regular pay—pay that was always a couple days Even still, though, he did manage to steal $100,000 late and a few dollars light. worth of diamonds. Thomas wished he could screw Kneller good—rob the bastard or rip him off somehow—but he was certain that Down in Miami, things weren’t going nearly as well for suspicion would fall on him, fast and hard. Let’s see, guy gets Thomas Ramone. He barely stole a couple thousand after Mr. robbed right about the time he starts dicking over his em- Yamamura (the owner of Solly’s Pizza-n-Subs) fired him. ployee with the suspended sentence for burglary? Do you “You’re on dope, ain’t you?” the scowling restaurateur suppose it was the disgruntled clerk? Ya think? had said. Aggravating all his smoldering anger and resentment was “Yeah, I’m hopped up on goofballs,” was Thomas’s the lingering suspicion that he’d sold his soul for what was— sarcastic reply. in the final analysis—a pretty stupid trick. “Don’t sass me, you little punk. I’ve had it up to here with Sure, he could escape any physical bonds, except for you friggin’ potheads.” maybe a bucket. If he concentrated, he could turn his body “Look, I’m sorry, boss.” into water. Sometimes. It wasn’t the most reliable thing. He “Don’t call me ‘boss’! I don’t employ druggies.” managed it about one time in three, not counting the time “I don’t smoke weed!” Thomas earnestly lied. “Look after a wake ’n’ bake that he did it accidentally in the shower. man, here’s what happened. I was working hard, I got That was pretty scary: He came within inches of going down dehydrated and dizzy, and I hit my head. That’s all. Ask the drain. After that, he only took baths. the doctor!” He could turn into water, about a gallon. Turning back His employer—former employer—replied with a wither- human was easier—pretty much automatic, seemed like. As a ing glare. “The day you pass out from working too hard is the living puddle, he could move along even surfaces, but going day I start selling crap sandwiches. You’re fired!” 143 142 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES uphill was pretty much impossible. A great trick for getting It was 11:30 on a Friday night. People like this guy— past bars, out of handcuffs or under locked doors. portly, nerdy, with a vague reek of shame—were his regular The only problem was, the change didn’t seem to include customers. The man retreated back into the adults-only his clothes. Whenever he was tempted to just rip off Kneller, room, and Tom sat back down on the stool. As he picked at AND make a run for it and simply power up if captured… the the cracked vinyl and the stuffing within, he resumed his GREG image of himself bailing down the road stark naked always train of thought. Okay. Water. No one suspects water, so it’s good for gave him pause. ANGEL hiding. I could get in somewhere, turn into water and wait Thomas made a concerted effort to get his life back on until the place closes. Like a bank or something. But nah, track. Stage one was cutting back on the Mary Jane. It was a those places all have cameras, and to move around and carry pain, but it made sense. He couldn’t afford to botch a drug stuff I’d need to be human again. test. He couldn’t afford fogged thinking. And he couldn’t WINGS really afford to buy a lot of reefer, either. He cadged some off He’d considered and rejected the idea of showing off his his friends—taking hits if they offered them—but by and power in public, selling tickets. He could tell people he was large, he just said no. a magician, but then they’d expect him to do other tricks, and He thought about telling his buddies about Sabriel— he only had one. Besides, he didn’t like the idea of all those Angela Meyerhoff, whatever—but no way. No matter how people staring at him. And what if the power conked out on stoned they all were, they’d think he was off his nut. Besides, him? Or he could tell them it was the real thing—prove it— he’d already lied to them (kind of) about the missing days. but he was pretty sure he’d wind up in some kind of government lab. He’d seen The X-Files. He’d been planning a road trip with Pete, Steve and Mo’ana, What I’d wanna do is go in the place earlier and stash my and he’d figured that the cash from selling Meyerhoff’s TV clothes somewhere, like in a bathroom. He shifted, flexing and stuff would let him travel in style. When he didn’t show, stiff back muscles, and raised an eyebrow. Actually, a bath- they went without him. He told them he’d met this crazy hot room would be the perfect place to hide. Yeah. I go in there chick and had spent the weekend with her. Which was true, when no one else is there, I put my clothes in, like, a plastic more or less. They were mad, but not too mad. It wasn’t the baggie, put ’em in top of the can and then water myself in on first time any of them had gotten flaky. top of them. The smart move would be to glue down that flap Thomas had considered himself lucky that he hadn’t had inside the tank so I don’t get flushed. any hours scheduled at either job for the time he was tied up Thomas’s apartment was furnished with a bowl that in the basement. But then he wound up getting fired anyhow. Okay, he thought, Water. I can turn into water. There’s sometimes ran on and on unless the handle was jiggled, so he gotta be a way to make some dough off that. was very familiar with ballcocks and floats and the other (to “Excuse me? Uh, the box for this movie was on the shelf, him) nameless elements of the toilet tank. Yeah. So I pick somewhere with cash locked inside it, but the tape’s not there?” somewhere I can get inside, wait, then jack the cashbox “It’s probably checked out.” without worrying about cameras and shit. I just let myself The man on the other side of the counter shifted uncom- out the front door when it’s done. fortably. “Could you, like check? On the computer or something?” He tried it the very next night. Thomas sighed and leaned forward. “What’s the title?” The man showed him the box. Hasmed’s diamond heist started out with Roscoe Paum. Tom checked the file—which wasn’t computerized, of They’d been at the YMCA, sitting in the sauna. course, everything was done with index cards—and then told “I’m down twenty pounds,” Hasmed said, plucking at the the customer that, sorry, Big Cock Randy Mountin’ had loose skin rolling over the top of the towel around his waist. been checked out and was, in fact, overdue. 145 144 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “I still have all this jiggly stuff though.” He demonstrated Hasmed shrugged. “We’ll see.” with a second chin and with a flap of flab on his upper arm. As he said it, he wiped his foggy glasses, unveiling the eye “Yeah, what you’ve lost is mostly water weight,” Roscoe full of blood. replied. “That goes off first, and it goes off pretty easy. When AND you get down to the real fat fat, it’s gonna go a lot slower.” He GREG Even Kneller wouldn’t work Thomas every night, so on shrugged. “What’s really important isn’t weight so much his night off, Thomas took a deep breath and went after a anyhow—not unless you’re some anorexic beauty queen. ANGEL Home Depot. Instead of body weight, you should watch your body mass— He parked his car in the lot behind it, in the spot by the ’ats how much of your weight is actual muscle.” dumpster. He had a key tied behind the back bumper with “So when I start building muscle, all this floppy stuff dental floss, and a change of clothes in the front seat. With a goes away?” WINGS Miami Dolphins cap pulled low over his eyebrows, he walked “More or less. I won’t lie to you, that belly of yours is into the store. In one pocket, he had a small, dim flashlight never going to look like a six pack again.” Roscoe himself was and a tube of glue. In the other was a large plastic bag and a pair lean and angular—he looked like sacks draped over coat of gloves. hangers. While Fortune was slimming down, he was trying to In the bathroom he looked around and, seeing that he bulk up. “Really great definition, it’s like virginity. Once you was alone, went into the stall. lose it, it ain’t coming back.” There was no tank. “I don’ give a shit. I just wanna be healthy.” He blinked. “You’re on the right track, just give it time. Doesn’t Shit, he thought. What now? happen overnight y’know.” At that point a good burglar would have cut his losses and They’d sat in silence for a while, sweltering, and then left, but Thomas wasn’t a good burglar. He decided to Roscoe had mentioned his cousin Angie. improvise. It turned out that Angie worked for one of the local Glancing around, he pulled the garbage can into a jewelry stores and had shrugged off a sleazy pass from a New corner by the farthest stall. He stripped, put his stuff in the York diamond merchant. Since “Angie” was short for baggie and sealed it. Then, after a moment’s thought, he “Angelo,” this was a bit more noteworthy than standard boy- pulled the glue back out and globbed it all around the on-girl sexual harassment. flusher handle. “I mean, it’s not like Angelo looks faggy, you know?” I hope they sanitize the fuck out of that bowl, he thought “What’s this New York diamond guy doing here in as he stuffed his property down under the bag in the trash Jersey, anyway?” bin. Then, with a sigh, he sat his naked ass on the toilet seat Ros shrugged. “Angie says he makes monthly deliveries. and gave a weak little chuckle. Why?” Nothing happened. “I’m just thinkin’. Maybe Angie’d like to get a little “Ha ha,” he tried feebly, but nope, no good. He forced payback on this guy? Y’know, get him in some trouble?” it, laughing a little louder, a little faker. “Ha HA.” “You’re not sayin’…?” Zilch. “I’m not sayin’, I’m just thinkin’.” Well, I suppose I could piss, get dressed and call it a night. “Yeah, well, you’re thinkin’ with that hole in your head There was a rush of relief. He gave one last sad snort, and that and not your brain. You can’t rob this guy. He may be a fag, one did it. but he’s, like, an ex-marine or an Army Ranger or somethin’. Aquatic, he sat in the bowl and waited. Carries a big gun and doesn’t take chances. I mean, dig this— And waited. overnight, he leaves his deliveries at the police station. Or And waited. you think you can steal it right out of a precinct house?” 147 146 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES In his water body, Thomas could still see. Looking up He knew that the more time he spent, the greater his from the bowl, he could watch the unmoving shadows on the chances were of being spotted… but the Home Depot was bathroom’s drop ceiling, and he started thinking. gigantic, the parking lot was at least an acre, and any security Shit, I could have put my crap up there. I could have put guy would be checking the outside… presumably. AND a bucket up there too and hid there instead of being in here! He was working on the lock of the manager’s office when GREG I gotta remember that for next time. he heard the cop cars pull up in front. The light switched on. If Thomas had been smart, he would have fled right ANGEL If he’d had lips, he would have bitten them. If he’d had after hearing the car stop, but he gave himself the luxury of a heart, it would have hammered. As it was, he could only optimism. He thought it might be some kids looking for a lie perfectly still, concentrating on remaining water, private place to make out. He thought it might be someone remaining water. checking a map. Those thoughts cost him half a minute of WINGS He wondered what was going on—he could hear someone waffling and deliberation before he crept forward and moving around, but nothing specific. glanced out the window in time to see a blue uniform Just don’t take a dump. approaching a door. Eventually, the light went off and the door closed. Tho- He turned and bolted for the back. Shit! He thought. Shit shit shit! mas waited and waited and waited. Next time, I gotta stick my watch somewhere I can see it, When that didn’t help, considered the crowbar in his he thought. He counted to a thousand, slow. He wasn’t hands. He’d worn gloves the whole time he used it, so it was patient by nature, but one trip to jail had been enough to clean. He dropped it immediately, and the clang echoed teach him caution. After a second slow thousand count, he throughout the store. rose up. “Who’s in there?” The voice from the front sounded Weird, he thought. I’m not even wet. terrifically loud and sharp. He dressed, took a deep breath, and opened the door a As Thomas turned the corner of an aisle, he saw the back crack. door opening and a flashlight beam creeping in. He ducked Silence. back and ran up a corridor. It was lined with door fixtures— He crept out into the darkened store and cautiously boxes of knobs and locks and kick plates. Think, Thomas. Think think think! looked around. The giant bell-shaped lights on the ceiling were still dimly glowing—they’d had the same kind of lights at It was clearly time to bail. He jerked off his shirt, then Thomas’s high school football field, and he knew they took dropped his pants and undies. His shoes were cheap black about an hour to go out completely. kung-fu slippers, and they quickly joined the bundle around So that’s some luck, he thought. He tiptoed from the his flashlight. back through the lumber area to the home-decorating de- He could hear footsteps getting closer and he started to partment and glanced through the corridors of bolts and giggle. It was hysteria, but he couldn’t use it yet, he still spackle and electrical wire. He saw no one. needed hands and arms and height. Next stop, cash registers. The gloves were most important because they’d have his They were locked, but he’d made a brief detour to the fingerprints. He took them off, added them to the clothing crowbars in aisle three and selected a small, black, tempered wad, and stuffed it on a shelf as high up as he could reach, pry-bar that made quick work of the lock. behind several boxes of weather stripping. They were empty. Completely nude, he gave a desperate chuckle and Shit. They must empty the registers and put the cash in dissolved. a lock box. Unless they take it to the bank every night? No A flashlight beam played across the aisle floor. As he way… would they? slithered his way toward the cop, he could hear the man talking into his shoulder mic. “Nothin’ yet, over.” 149 148 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Another patrol officer was by the door, a woman. He got Mentally, he pictured the lady cop again, and he was right up beneath her feet before he realized that the door- overcome with a fit of the giggles. “Suspect is, I repeat, naked.” Shit. This is crazy. This is jamb was slightly raised. Is nothing ever easy? He slithered away into the dark. some crazy-ass shit. AND When he was sure he was out of her sight, he re-formed—just He got a beer out of the fridge and thought about GREG for a moment, just long enough to tip over a display of energy smoking some pot. Then he remembered he didn’t have any efficient light bulbs and give a yell. in the house. ANGEL Please let it work, please let it work, please let it work, he Probably just as well. One giggle fit, and I could be a stain on the couch. thought, desperately chortling. But it didn’t work. He was giggling now and couldn’t When the beer was done he opened another. Halfway through that, he felt competent to do some real thinking. stop, caught up in the terror and ridiculousness of it, but he WINGS My problem was, I was thinking too large. Got greedy. couldn’t change until the policewoman came around the What I need is to knock over smaller places—like mom-an’- corner and caught a glimpse of him, stark naked, ducking pop restaurants, places that leave cash in the fucking regis- around the other end of the shelving unit. ter. Heck, places like that are more likely to have tank toilets, With a sense of deep relief he oozed down the tile floor right? Or I could, like, put a basin under the sink like it’s to the back door, overhearing her as he passed. “…white Caucasian male, long dark hair and is, repeat, naked…” catching a leak. Though someone might dump me then. At the door, he paused. If he’d had a body, he’d have He worked the next night, but he went to a Brazier out taken a deep breath. And then, just like that, he had one and by the highway on Monday night and made $500. Thurs- he did. day was his next night off, and he netted $450 from Bare feet slapping as he bolted toward the dumpsters in his Nicole’s Old Fashioned Tap. Three nights after that, the birthday suit, Thomas Ramone had never felt so exposed in his life. “Midnight Marauder” was in the paper after he stole Thomas struggled into the shirt and sweatpants in his car $1,117 from a BP Amoco. without even noticing that the pants were backward and the It was a little more than a week after his first aborted shirt inside-out. He got dressed and turned the key and attempt that he was spotted by the demon Usiel, who was jammed. His heart was still thudding rapidly when he pulled traveling under an assumed name. into the parking lot by his apartment. He was momentarily distracted when he realized that the Together, Roscoe and Hasmed cased the diamond mer- asshole with the Trans-Am had stolen Thomas’s space in the chant. His name was Jack Haskell, and he had the fat, carport, again, but mainly he was still freaked out and crew-cut look of a no-nonsense cop. amazed that he’d escaped from… what, at least three cops? “I can’t believe he’s a fairy,” Roscoe kept saying. By all rights I should be cuffed and stuffed by now. Jack made weekly deliveries, getting into town late and He went into his apartment, shoved a couple of skate driving directly to the police station. magazines aside and sat down on the couch. “Doesn’t make sense,” Roscoe said. “Why would he drive Crap, he thought. I’m not out of the woods. I still could from New York late and get here after the store closes?” hang for this, but… what are they gonna do? Tomorrow’s “Ask Angie.” Sunday. When they figure out nothing’s missing, they’re not “How’m I gonna bring that sort of thing up with him?” gonna close the store. Not on an autumn Sunday, when “Find a way.” everyone’s buying snow blowers and shit. So any clues I left, To his credit, Ros did and reported it back to Hasmed. they’re gonna be worthless—just so long as I can get in and get “All right, it makes sense now. He’s got a route, see? the clothes. That’s job one tomorrow. Gotta wait until it’s Starts in Manhattan, makes deliveries to a bunch of different good and busy, don’t wanna go in first thing… towns in Jersey. Ours is the last stop, and with the traffic, he 151 150 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES just couldn’t ever get here on time. So they started putting Jack Haskell had a sample case, black and nondescript, him up overnight.” but watching closely, Hasmed could tell it was different “Why not make two trips?” from the usual salesman’s catalogue box. Haskell could lift Roscoe shrugged. “I don’ know. You’re the fortune- it easily, but the way it moved, swinging in his hand, the AND teller, you tell me. Maybe he’s married, likes to ditch the wife time it took at the edge of each arc, told Hasmed that it was GREG and cruise for blowjobs?” fairly heavy. Inside the pleather exterior, it probably had a “Maybe they didn’t want to double their exposure.” steel core. ANGEL “So if we’re gonna hit him, maybe we should do it early? A cop came out from the back and greeted Haskell with a You know, before he makes his other deliveries?” smile, clapping him on the back. He picked up the case, and Hasmed thought about it a moment before shaking his the two men went through a door marked AUTHORIZED PER- head. “Nah. That’s when he’d be most alert, right? And we’d WINGS SONNEL ONLY. be in a strange town. We’d stand out.” Hasmed followed. Roscoe had some private thoughts about “Mr. Fortune” The pair went through dark brick halls, chatting amiably, standing out anywhere, what with the big goddamn scar in the with Hasmed only a few steps behind them. When he noticed middle of his face, but he kept them to himself. cameras by the ceiling, he tilted his head down so that only “So how you want to do this?” the brim of his hat was visible to them. Even if the people “Don’ know. I’m gonna check the precinct house.” watching the security cameras had been looking at those Roscoe just shook his head. particular images at that particular moment (and none were), all they’d see was three men, the one in back wearing a baseball cap. Back when he was an angel, Hasmed had lived by clear, At the bottom of a flight of stairs, the cop opened an inflexible rules. One of the most important was, “Do not unmarked metal door. Hasmed watched as they went inside. reveal yourself to humans.” This was a rule for all the It wasn’t a big room, so a quick glance was enough to reveal Elohim, but since Hasmed had duties to protect people, he no other doors, no windows. It just had a couple of racks of had to go out of his way to remain unseen. Created by a cheap steel shelves laden with boxes, cases and paper bags. perfect being, he naturally had abilities to enable him to do Each was in a clearly labeled spot. just that. Hasmed climbed the stairs alone thinking, Two cameras, The war and his subsequent imprisonment had weak- two locked doors, one locked security case. ened his powers considerably, but remaining invisible to humankind was still within his grasp. Following Jack Haskell along the street to the precinct “Jeez, you’re serious?” house, Hasmed disappeared. It wasn’t sudden, like when a “Serious as cancer, Ros. It’s doable. ’Cept for the locks. figure gets spliced out of a film with a dramatic pop. He The locks are the deal-breaker.” “It ain’t being in a whole building full of cops and didn’t fade, either, like a dying match flame. He just gradu- ally was where people weren’t looking. A woman strolling by cameras and shit? The deal-breaker is three little locks?” him glanced at her watch and instinctively stepped out of the “That’s what I’m tellin’ you.” demon’s path. A man paused to lean and tie a shoe as Hasmed They were back in the sauna, and both just sat for a passed. A child sneezed, its mother knelt to wipe its face—as moment. Then Hasmed spoke. a consequence, they both missed the creature walking by. “Actually,” he said, “I reckon it’s really just two locks. When he entered the police station, people rubbed tired That first door, it looked like there was lots of traffic through eyes, glanced at ringing phones or looked down as they that. I could probably just follow someone through it. The scratched themselves, and not one saw him. second door, it was at the bottom of the stairs, not lots of people went there. But no camera on it, either.” 153 152 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Hasmed’s own—but in addition to some stock-standard “So two locks.” snooping, it had also involved listening to Dennis’s blather “Two locks.” about how it was different, elaborately justifying his own There was another pause. infidelity while condemning hers. It was tiresome and sad, “So we need a pick.” AND and Hasmed considered killing him. He considered it very, “Eh…” Hasmed bit his lower lip. “I don’ know if I wanna GREG very carefully. But today, Hasmed wasn’t talking to Dennis. get a third man involved.” He was talking to Lee Boyer Jr., also known as “Milkman “We’re gonna have to anyway, to move the rocks.” ANGEL Boyer,” also known as “Milk Monster.” “Yeah, yeah… but that’s not so much of a big problem. Hasmed always acted much busier than he was. When You can always find a fence. For easy stuff like ice, right?” someone called to talk to him, he always scheduled an “But to get the ice, we need a pick.” appointment for a couple of days or even a week. It gave him “I don’t know if I could get a pick inside.” WINGS “How you gonna get yourself inside?” a chance to scope out his new pigeon and learn a few Hasmed made a little grunting noise and rubbed his “amazing facts” with which to wow them. forehead. The most impressive fact he’d picked up watching Milk- “Let’s just say I don’t see a good way to get anyone else in.” man Boyer was that the faded, decades-old cigarette burns “So you can’t see a good way to get through the locks?” on Boyer’s arms and hands clustered much more densely on “It doesn’t work like that.” his penis, scrotum and buttocks. He’d heard rumors about “Okay, okay, whatever. We could cut the locks.” Boyer’s mom and dad, and the scars seemed to clinch it. He “With what? A fuckin’ hacksaw? It’d take all night.” was similarly encouraged to see that Lee’s key chain had a “One of them—what you call ’em?—a sawsall? Like, an rabbit’s foot on it, and that there was a horseshoe on the electric saw?” inside of his apartment door. Running over his notes, “Too loud. And we’d need to plug it in, I think.” observations and rumors, Hasmed was fairly confident about “A lock-pick gun would do it.” three things. “You know where to get one? ’Cause I don’t.” One: Boyer was almost certainly involved in a 1997 Skelly They sat in silence for a few more minutes. “Aw crap,” Armored Car robbery. It was a big job—nine crooks on four Hasmed said at last. “I’ll think of somethin’. Now, I gotta go. guards. Two guards had died, along with one robber. Seven I got someone to see.” of the surviving criminals had been apprehended. They ratted on one another freely but none of them—not one— would admit to knowing the identity of the ninth man. Of “Mr. Fortune” didn’t have a big clientele. Not yet, the six million stolen, all but $750,000 had been recovered. anyhow. But word was going around about his lucky sports It was widely believed that Boyer had killed the guards and picks. Vietnam Ham and his bodyguards weren’t talking intimidated his confederates into silence. about his predictions, but Dennis Porter did enough jab- Two: Lee Boyer’s parents, Lee Sr. and Marcia Boyer, had bering for both. both been very bad news. Lee had gone to the electric chair In fact, Dennis had become his best customer, even when his son was sixteen. Marcia had died in the violent ward after it was explained that sports were dim and hard to call. of an insane asylum in 1989. That was fine. Porter was more interested in other matters, Three: Lee Jr. had gotten his dairy-case nickname in as it turned out. Mainly marital stuff. He’d paid two 1998 when word got out that he was buying human breast hundred dollars for reassurance that his wife didn’t suspect milk from a teen mother in Colonia. The first guy to joke anything—and another three-fifty for confirmation that about Lee drinking it—Carl Christopherson—died in a she was stepping out on him, too. very uncomfortable fashion not long after making his bon Five hundred and fifty bucks was nothing to sneeze at—it mot. Lee had been arraigned on Christopherson’s mur- made a good dent in Tina’s outstanding medical bills, if not 155 154 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Hell, I could pay you and you just say ‘Eh, the spirits an’ der, but he was acquitted due to lack of evidence. No one all are cloudy, come again next week. An’ bring another would testify. double-saw.’ It’s bullshit!” With these points of data—along with clues gleaned from “It’s the way it works. This ain’t like pumpin’ gas. I don’t searching Boyer’s apartment, not least of which was a shelf in AND know what’s gonna be down there when I go to the well, got his kitchen well stocked with cans of Enfamil baby formula— GREG me? But I got to stick my hand in anyhow. Twenty up front— Hasmed was confident that he was dealing with a violent, no returns, not negotiable. If I see somethin’, you decide if dangerous man whose childhood could charitably be de- ANGEL it’s worthwhile. If it is, you give me a hundred bucks. More scribed as a chamber of horrors. He was a sick fuck from a sick looking we agree to separately.” family, and people who would cheerfully work with murder- Lee glared. ers and convicted rape-os would shake their heads and walk “I should just walk away from this shit.” away from a string with the Milk Monster in it. WINGS “Door’s open.” When Boyer walked in, Hasmed stood and shook his “Don’t you disrespect me, Ciullo.” hand. They exchanged a long, cool look. Boyer wasn’t a big “No disrespect. It’s your choice. Pay or walk. I’m just man. He was medium-tall, he was skinny, but he somehow here.” gave the impression of being more vivid than other men. He With a snort, Lee handed over a pair of tens. was like a giant, tightly wound down to a smaller size and Even though the room was dim, Hasmed had kept his ready to burst if touched. He had the eyes of a rabid dog. sunglasses on. Now he took them off. “Have a seat,” Hasmed said. Boyer did. Hasmed sat across “Fuck man. What happened to your face?” from him. “Is that the question you really want answered?” The table was scarred oak, its varnish aged almost black. “A’right, a’right.” Boyer shifted right and left. “Here’s Hasmed had gotten it second hand. It was covered with cup the thing,” he said. He paused. “The thing is…” rings and dents and stains, and it had a matchbook wedged Hasmed just waited. under a leg to compensate for some warping. Other than two “Well, it’s like a professional thing. Y’know? I been, uh, dinner chairs, matching it in age and condition, it was the out of work for a while now.” only furniture in the room. There were no windows. No “Uh huh.” rugs. No pictures on the wall. Just the door in, behind Lee, “And it’s not that I’m hurting for dough. I got enough, and another across the room. but you know how it is, I’d trade it all for a little more. But “So,” Boyer said. His voice was tight and sharp. “How do a man’s got to work, you hear me?” we do this thing? You got them cards? A crystal ball?” “You don’t want to rust out.” “Nope.” “Exactly.” “You gonna look at my hands?” “Why aren’t you getting work?” “Nuh uh. I just got to look at you.” “You tell me. You’re the fortune-teller.” Boyer sat back and spread his arms wide. “All right. You have a bad reputation.” “First things first,” Hasmed said. “You understand the Something mad and deadly flickered in Boyer’s eyes, but pay thing?” he just said, “Yeah, I guess that’s right.” “Explain it to me, why don’t you?” “Someone said something about you, and now they laugh “It’s twenty bucks for me to try. Even if I don’t see at you. Nothing about how you work. Just bullshit about your nothin’, can’t tell you nothin’, it’s twenty bucks up front.” personal life.” “That’s a screwjob.” “Bullshit is right, Ciullo. It’s bullshit, nothing but, and “That’s the deal.” that cocksucker Christopherson deserved everything his 157 156 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES lying ass got.” He closed his mouth, forced himself to lean large plastic zipper bags, because she had a vague thought that back again and shrugged. “Whoever it was that killed him, the insecticide might contaminate them. you know.” Nevertheless (she told herself) it wasn’t like she had a drinking problem. It was after noon. “Why not move? Leave town, start over?” AND “Leave Jersey?” Boyer said it like Hasmed had suggested GREG he take up hairdressing instead of robbery. “Fuggeddaboudit. The damned angel Usiel was waiting for the bus when he Where’m I gonna go, huh? New York? Those assholes figure ANGEL spotted Thomas Ramone slowing down for a stop light. anyone with a Jersey accent is a moron. Same thing in Usiel—shabby and bald Clive Keene to outward appear- Chicago. Or, what, I should go to Boston, where they don’t ances—didn’t notice him right away. He was lost in thought. even know what to call a sandwich? Miami’s full of spics. They The thrall he’d killed up north had directed him to run everything now that the Mustache Petes are out of it.” WINGS Bayonet Point, Florida, and to another vassal named Krebbs. “How ’bout Vegas?” Usiel’s plan had been to kill her and then torture her for “Too hot.” information, but things hadn’t worked out just right. The Hasmed nodded ruefully. “So you don’t want to leave. demon Vassago—patron to both Krebbs and the late John But you can’t escape these, uh…” Bow—had other agents in the area that Bow hadn’t known “Lies. Fucking lies.” about. They had interrupted Usiel’s business with Krebbs, There was a pause. they’d hurt him, he’d hurt them back and, in the end, he’d “So have I earned my hundred bucks yet?” decided to quit while he was ahead. “You barely earned your twenty.” He’d only killed one of the servants, but he still consid- “All right, I’ll tell you some more. Y’might not like it, ered himself ahead, thanks to something he’d found in though.” Hasmed took a deep breath and started in on the Krebbs’ house. Something he’d sensed. Something with the horse crap. “You’re isolated. You’re lonesome. You been reek of the Fiend upon it. kicked to the curb by your friends and by people you re- Physically, it was not terribly remarkable. It was a single spected. And there’s a reason.” earring with a diamond pendant. The diamond was large, Lee took a deep breath in through his nose and said, “The and of good quality, but not stunning. A pair of earrings very next words out of your mouth better be real good ones, much like it could be bought at a good jeweler for one or two Ciullo. ’Cause I don’t like what I’m hearing.” thousand dollars. “It’s not the reason you think. You got unfinished But those earrings would not contain part of a demon’s business, and it’s hanging over your head. People in the soul, and this one did. Just like the pendant at John Bow’s present, they stay away because you give ’em the feeling of a house. broken past. You got to fix that stuff. Then you’ll be okay.” Usiel was not sure exactly how Vassago had managed to get “What kind of crap are you talking here, Ciullo?” his spirit sealed into a diamond, but then again he wasn’t sure “I’m talking about your parents.” how he’d managed to get his own spirit into a human body. “My parents are dead.” He wasn’t sure how he’d recovered the scythe, his very own “Yeah. Pisser, ain’t it?” releasing tool. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, was going on. He was sure, however, that he would be very pleased to Betsy Smith had a very difficult morning at work, so she send Vassago back to the Abyss where he belonged. snuck off to a supply closet and took three deep swallows from The diamond had part of Vassago’s soul, but not all or a bottle of Rumpleminz schnapps. She’d hidden it there a even most of it. Usiel was conflicted, wondering what to do week and a half earlier, replacing the bottle of Kahlua she’d with it. On one hand, possessing it helped him sense where finished. Her hiding place was a dark corner of a low cabinet, the demon had other pockets of essence concealed, and if behind the insect repellent. Betsy kept her bottles inside he studied it long enough, Usiel thought he might be able 159 158 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES to pick out a part of Vassago’s True Name. On the other spoke to Usiel, once one of the most feared soldiers in the hand, as long as he had it, the demon’s agents would be able Holy Host. to track him effortlessly. Destroying it immediately would “Get a job!” he yelled. The light turned green, and he weaken the rebel, and would also release some power that drove away. AND Usiel could reclaim. Usiel glared after him. GREG Sweet power. A potent, intoxicating rush of power. ANGEL Coming home, what Hasmed really wanted was a shower, Ever since his scythe had cut the tie between Vassago and a cold beer and some quiet. He knew he shouldn’t be Bow’s pendant, Usiel had thought about somehow getting frightened of Boyer—after all the man was merely a man at the more. Even that small dose had energized him, and he could end of the day (no matter how crazy and violent). But feel how much more was contained in the earring. WINGS nevertheless, Harvey Ciullo was terrified, and that terror More than power, it was the sensation that tempted Usiel. seeped up into Hasmed as well. He was trying to shake it off He was not sure it was good to enjoy so much the destruction even as he unlocked the door. of something that could never be remade. But this pleasure “At last!” Helena said, fixing an earring into her ear. “I was linked to strength as well, and he was disturbed by how got to rush, or I’m gonna be late!” poorly his battle against the demon’s minions had gone. It “I thought you were working weekends this week.” was not just that they’d hurt him—they’d hurt him beyond his “It’s not for work!” she said, giving him a buss on the ability to readily heal himself. Even his mortal shell showed cheek. the marks of blows that had struck immortal flesh. “Tina’s been okay,” she whispered in his ear. “It was a He had ultimately fled them by cutting a hole into the nice day, so we took a walk in the park, watched the birds lands of the dead, fleeing bodily through that bodiless space flying south. I told her you’d get her a kite and fly it with her. until he found a place where it was easy to re-enter the And she wants to be a ballerina for Halloween.” physical world. “Mph.” Hasmed hadn’t even noticed that it was a nice It had gotten him away, but that tactic had also been day. “What’s she doing now?” unusually difficult. The soul storm had hurt him further, “Watching TV, but it’s all right, it’s PBS.” and now he sat on a bus stop bench, aching, waiting to get to “Daddy, c’mere! This is neat, Daddy!” the airport and hoping that the servants of the Fiend would “In a minute!” he called. He turned back to Helena. not find him before he had a chance to repair himself. “Hey, thanks again,” he said. “I don’ know if I thank you Then, as he sat musing, he became aware once more of the enough for all the babysitting.” stink of a Hell-ridden human. His first thought was that “She’s my only niece. You know. Like the daughter I Vassago’s thralls were upon him, but as he started to his feet he never had.” For a moment Helena frowned. Then she realized that this was a different reek. Vassago’s lackeys had a blinked and was back to normal. “I got to go,” she said. feverish stench of madness, while this was a musky, salty stink— “Daddy!” like dead fish and dirty thoughts. With a squint, Usiel identified “Yeah yeah.” He shook his head. “She sounds happy.” the man. “I think she is. Bye now.” Has anyone in this degenerate age resisted temptation? “Bye.” he thought, striding toward the car. He wasn’t even sure what “Daddy!” he was going to do. He wasn’t in much condition to start a “I’m here, kitten.” With weary tread, he entered the fight, though looking at any corrupted mortal made his living room just in time to catch an instant replay on Bill Nye gorge rise. the Science Guy. The vassal turned to him without an iota of comprehen- “Watch!” sion. Thomas Ramone grimaced, cracked his window and 161 160 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND X STOLZE ASHES Obediently, he watched a slow-motion Bill Nye use the Big Hammer of Science to shatter a rose that had been chapter dipped in liquid nitrogen. He stood, staring. AND “Cool!” Tina shouted. GREG “You’re right, sweetie. That’s definitely very, very cool….” ANGEL ten WINGS Teddy Mason felt uneasy about deceiving his wife and son. Well, no. That’s not exactly right. Teddy felt (strangely enough) that it was entirely right and appropriate to de- ceive Birdie and Lance. What made him uneasy was just how good it felt. At first he’d tried to put it in the category of a “white lie”—a friendly deception intended to enhance a pleasant surprise. Like telling Lance about Santa Claus when he was a little boy, or like the time he got Birdie a pair of earrings for her birthday but hid them in a weighed-down food processor box. But deep down inside, he knew that the vacation to Nevada wasn’t a particularly thrilling surprise. Furthermore, if Birdie found out that it was not (as he’d told them) a prize he’d won in a raffle at the furniture store but that he had, instead, spent a good chunk of their hard- earned cash and had, furthermore, taken vacation time that the family had been leaning toward earmarking for a trip over Christmas… well the only thing that would enhance would be her anger. He didn’t feel uneasy. He thought he should be uneasy. Nonetheless, he felt great. He felt alert and alive, capable and competent—more so than he had for years, maybe more than he ever had. He’d called Dr. Ng’s office and cancelled his next appointment, citing an unexpected business meet- ing. He promised to call back and reschedule. Then, he simply didn’t call back. 163 162 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES turned a corner. Or at least I have. And I really want my (His sex problems were gone!) It wasn’t like his family was thrilled by the trip, but he was. family beside me.” “Las Vegas is so gay,” Lance said. Birdie looked at him closely. She was touched. Lance “Son,” Birdie said warningly. The teen rolled his eyes. continued to roll his eyes, but beneath his reflexive discom- AND “Okay, it’s lame. Is that, like, politically correct enough fort, he was a good kid who loved his dad, so he resigned GREG for you?” himself to going. “What’s wrong with Vegas, son?” Teddy asked mildly. ANGEL “It’s just all lights and stupid people and, you know, “Hasmed?” Sabriel was cruising along Interstate 40 dumb old singers no one cares about. Like, Tom Jones and through Arizona, late at night. It was, against all likelihood, Celine Dion. Big deal.” still raining over her. She’d decided not to get on a flight “Your mother and I like Celine Dion.” WINGS until she’d shaken the storm. Taking to the air, Avitu’s native “So I get stuck listening to her with you? Whee. Real fun.” element, seemed like a singularly bad idea. She had no idea “There’s no reason to spend much time in Las Vegas,” how far Avitu’s perceptions were stretching, and she didn’t Teddy said. “I actually thought we might go out into the want to take chances. desert and do some camping.” “Hasmed? Can you hear me?” “In a desert?” Birdie asked. Who is that? “I read somewhere that it’s really beautiful out there this “It’s Sabriel, Hasmed. You remember?” time of year. Very stark and spare but, you know… primal. What do you want? It’s a very powerful landscape.” “Hasmed, I’m hurt. Is that any way to greet an old friend “Powerful,” Lance said, eyes still rolling. “If you want to after… how many thousand years has it been, anyhow?” go camping, why don’t we go to Yellowstone again?” I don’t know, and I don’t care. You’re free, huh? “Because I won the two tickets to Las Vegas.” “Yeah, I’m out in a human body. You too?” “But it didn’t come with hotel?” Birdie asked. “That’s Yeah. How could you tell? awfully odd.” “I’ve run into a couple of our number who got out a “It’s a weekend for two in the hotel,” Teddy lied, impro- long time ago. They didn’t have human hosts, and it made vising. “We’ll have to pitch in a little more for Lance’s plane them… weird.” ticket, but I thought we could extend the trip a little and see Who were they? Lake Mead and the area around it.” “One from your house who defended me against Vejovis. “I could just stay here,” Lance said sullenly. “I can take Another I never knew before. I’d rather not speak their names.” care of myself.” Fair enough. How have they gotten “weird”? “I’m not leaving a fourteen-year-old boy alone in this “It’s hard to describe. Your old comrade, for example, is house,” Birdie said firmly. “We could maybe leave you with all fired up about ushering in a new age of ignorance for the Cormans…?” humanity.” “Awwww maaaaa…” From where I’m sitting it looks like one’s already here. “What? I thought you and Steve Corman were friends.” “I’ve also run into your old colleague Gaviel.” “Like, back in sixth grade maybe. Not now. You know…” There was a pause before Hasmed replied. So? “I want Lance to come,” Teddy said, his voice firm. “Like us, he has found a human to wear.” “Look, I’m not sure how to explain this, but I really want this Good for him. to be a family vacation. I don’t know, I feel like this is a real “I take it you two are… estranged?” stroke of luck, and I want to really grasp it while I have the It’s none of your damn business. He’s not one of the chance. This might sound corny, but, uh… I feel like we’ve crazy ones? 165 164 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Just think it over and get back to me. That’s not an “No. So you haven’t run into any Elohim who’ve been unreasonable request, is it?” locked in the inanimate for a long time? Who’ve been I’ll think it over. sleeping, maybe?” Nothing like that around here. AND “Where’s ‘here’ for you?” GREG Without hesitation, the woman standing in front of That’s none of your business either. Chuck Collins pulled her T-shirt off over her head. “Hasmed, don’t be that way. Surely our… condition… is ANGEL “Whoa,” Chuck said. “Okay, so you’ve got the assets.” He hard enough without turning friends aside, right?” squinted but couldn’t see a scar. “Those real?” Are we friends, Sabriel? I’ve run into fellow escapees— “What does ‘real’ mean?” she asked. demons in human bodies—who were awful “weird” too. And “True enough. So then, can you dance?” demon-on-demon violence is hardly a rarity. If you don’t WINGS “I suppose so.” believe me, invoke the Darkness of the Deeps. “Let’s see it.” He reached back and started a scratchy tape. “I’d rather not, thanks. Are things going well for you?” He kept meaning to get a CD player for his office but never Why do you care? got around to it. “If they’re not, perhaps I can help you out.” She danced. He’d seen better, but with her looks, she Really? You call me up in the middle of the night, you didn’t need a lot of skill. ask me questions about dangerous, powerful, “weird” old “Right. You’re clean? No drugs? Nothin’ like that?” demons, and I’m supposed to believe it’s because you want “I’m clean.” She smiled that close-mouthed smile. Her to help me? You’re slipping, Sabriel. You used to be more only flaw was her teeth. They weren’t white enough—they persuasive than that. were browned up like she was a sixty-year-old chain smoker. “Well… okay, yeah, you got me. I’m not in perfect shape, He mentioned it and told her she’d need to get them of course, but maybe I really can help you, you know. Yes, I’d bleached on her own dime. She nodded. like you to help me, but that can be a two-way street. Opening “Can you start Tuesday?” lines of communication can’t hurt at the very least. Right? If “I can start tonight, if you like.” each of us has accomplished something with the power of one “I didn’t ask about tonight, I asked about Tuesday.” demon, how much more could each accomplish with the “Tuesday’s fine.” power of another?” “What did you say your name was again?” Just what are you hoping to accomplish? “Gwynafra. Gwynafra Doakes.” She spelled it out. “I need followers, and I need money. Both of those are “That’s a hell of a handle.” pretty simple, for me—but I need someone to watch my back “It’s the original Welsh form of ‘Guinevere,’ which got while I get them.” turned into ‘Jennifer,’” she explained. And, as a guardian angel, I was an obvious choice. “Whoa, I didn’t ask for your life story. Just give me your “What is it you want?” Social Security number and I’ll get you filled out.” I need money, and followers, and I’m doing just fine on She gave him Gustavus Doakes’ number, already plan- my own, thanks. Why aren’t you calling Mr. Summer Sun ning the line of bullshit she’d lay on him if he ever asked why instead of me? Are you two “estranged”? his visibly female showgirl was using a man’s SSN. She didn’t “I could quote you something about ‘your damn business.’” think he’d notice, or even care. Got it. Gwynafra Doakes, who was animate mud formed by the “You could be doing better, with a Lammasu to help will of the demon Avitu, prepared to start her career as a you. Right?” dancer. There was an old tradition of erotic temple danc- Maybe. ers—or, at least there was a vague sense of one in Gustavus Doakes’ memories. She was fairly pleased with her choice. 167 166 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES The more familiar she became with Doakes’ memories, the “You promised you’d have a tea party wif me!” HASMED. YOUR MASTER CALLS. more Avitu felt that she’d done the man a favor. If anyone was ever a consciousness addict, it was him. “I’ll be right back, honey.” He rolled his eyes comically They’d tried a brothel first, but to get a license, Gwynafra and put one hand in front of his mouth. “I have to go to the AND would have needed a blood test, and that was one thing she bathroom,” he said in a stage whisper. GREG couldn’t give. Tina giggled and he scuttled away. Once in the washroom, he focused his attention on ANGEL Vodantu’s invocation. “Would you like more tea, Mr. Daddy?” “I’m here, Master Vodantu,” he whispered. “Don’t mind if I do, Miss Tina,” Hasmed answered. The WHAT ARE YOU DOING? three-year-old hoisted up the child-sized teapot and mimed One of Harvey’s leftover reflexes was to run his tongue WINGS pouring tea into his fake-china plastic cup, which was almost over his right canine tooth before stretching the truth. as big as a shot glass. Without thought, the body did that now. Harvey Ciullo’s bulky frame was compressed down to sit “I’m looking after one of my thralls,” he said. on one of Tina’s little chairs, leaving his knees on level with WHAT PROGRESS CAN YOU REPORT ON DOING MY WORK? his nipples. She was sitting next to him (she’d been very “I’m still trying to get into the Mafia. Uh, that’s the… the insistent about who sat where), and the other two chairs were society I told you about.” occupied by a plush giraffe and a toy panda. YOU HAVE NOT GAINED ACCESS YET? The table had seen better days. Helena had bought it at a “They’re very… secretive and exclusive. I have made garage sale, and it was permanently discolored by years of overtures to several members, and I have sickened a local crayon rubbing and paint spills. There were patches where chieftain. I expect there to be bloodshed during the succes- long-gone decals had yielded their stickiness, viscosity that sion struggle. Afterwards, whoever assumes his position will had pulled in dust and grime over the years. Like silhouettes, be eager to recruit new members.” the shapes of the stickers remained, rendered in grubbiness. I STILL FAIL TO SEE WHY YOU DO NOT SIMPLY REVEAL YOURSELF Hasmed reached down, but his stubby, paw-like hand was AND DEMAND THEIR OBEDIENCE. clumsy, and the handle of the cup squirted out from between “I believe that it is best, at this juncture, to remain his thumb and forefinger. hidden. The minds of the humans are poisoned against us, “Whoopsie!” he said. Lord. Were I to declare myself as a fallen angel, few would be It was fortunate that there was no real tea in the cups. eager to enter my service—and those who would, would be Otherwise, he’d have added yet another layer to the table’s poor specimens, despised by their fellows and of little use.” discolored strata. Vodantu was silent for a moment, and Hasmed won- “I do it!” Tina shouted, popping up and grabbing a dered if the connection was broken. Then the great demon blanket off her bed. She began to polish the table—not addressed him again. noticing as she did so that her sleeves were upending other PERHAPS YOU ARE RIGHT. JORIEL’S FATE GIVES ONE PAUSE, cups and saucers and plates of imaginary cookies. AND I AM NOT EAGER TO SEE THE DESTRUCTION OF ANY OTHERS “See daddy? I’m cleaning!” AMONG MY SERVANTS. “That’s great, kitten…” “Wait, you mean… Joriel is destroyed?” HASMED. ATTEND ME. LUBIKU HAD A SERVANT SUMMON HIM, BUT WHEN THE DARK- Vodantu’s voice echoed through Hasmed’s head with NESS ARRIVED, HE WAS TOO DAMAGED AND MAD TO BE OF USE. I GAVE only a little less violence than Mike Diamond’s bullet had. He LUBIKU PERMISSION TO CONSUME HIM. twitched and shuddered. Tina didn’t notice, cheerfully Hasmed swallowed. “The Stone of Despair is free, then?” chirping along as she cleaned. “Sweetie, can you excuse me for a moment?” 169 168 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES HE IS. EVEN NOW, HE SERVES MY WILL IN A LAND CALLED He was looking out over the clouds, drumming his “SAMOA.” THE SAVIOR OF THE FALLING STARS WALKS THE EARTH fingers against the seat, when somebody invoked him. AS WELL, DOING MY BIDDING. AND AS YOU KNOW, RABBADÜN USIEL, said the voice in his mind. USIEL, ATTEND ME. GLORIFIES MY NAME IN THE MORTAL WORLD. ONLY YOU, HASMED, He ignored it. He got invoked a lot, usually demons with AND insults and abuse for him, empty curses and vain threats of GREG HAVE FAILED TO PERFORM EVEN ONE SACRIFICE ON MY BEHALF. “Sacrifices are a poor substitute for freedom, master. what they’d do when they found him. The occasional invo- Would you have drips of human suffering now, or the ocean cation of hatred had been a steady feature of his imprisonment ANGEL of misery that will attend your incarnation?” in the Abyss. It was less frequent now that he’d escaped, but There was another pause. some of the stronger demons in Hell could still reach him PERHAPS YOU ARE RIGHT IN THIS MATTER, AS WELL. JUST MIND from there, even in the material world. But he was very, very good at ignoring them. WINGS THE CAUSE FOR WHICH YOU TOIL. USIEL. I AM THE ONE WHO SENT YOUR SCYTHE. “Your freedom, master. Always.” I HAVE HEARD AND FELT CHANGES WITHIN SOME LIKE YOU, That caught his attention. It was almost enough to per- WHO HAVE ESCAPED INTO HUMAN FORMS. THEY BECOME SEDUCED suade him to open himself to the communication, but he could tell that the invoker was no angel. Indeed, Usiel had BY THE ATTACHMENTS OF MORTAL LIFE, DELUDING THEMSELVES THAT THEY MIGHT RETURN TO THE FAVOR OF THE ONE ABOVE seen and felt no pure angelic influence since his return to the human world—an absence that alarmed and concerned him. LIKE THE CHILDREN OF EVE AND ADAM. “Nonsense. What temptations could this weak body— This speaker had the reek of rebellion on his voice, and Usiel layered in fat—hold for me? It’s only a tool, and a cheap ignored him. After all, he thought. It could be an ally of Vassago. Or clumsy one at that. Believe me, I long for the day I can cast one of the Neberu might have divined that I’ve recovered my it aside.” SEE THAT YOU REMEMBER THAT ATTITUDE. YOU SERVE ME, releasing tool. It could be an infernal trick. HASMED. AND SHOULD YOU FORGET YOUR SERVITUDE FOR TOO USIEL. YOU ARE NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO CONTEND WITH LONG A TIME, YOUR NAME CAN BE GIVEN TO RABBADÜN. I’M SURE VASSAGO, BUT YOU HAVE THE CHANCE NOW TO STRIKE AT A MUCH HE WOULD DELIGHT IN THE CONSUMPTION OF SOMEONE OF SUCH STRONGER DEMON, ONE WHO IS WEAK AFTER A LONG REPOSE. He ignored it, trying to concentrate on an article in the HIGH STATION. Hasmed’s heart beat fast, but he fought his voice calm. “I airline magazine. Whoever it was, it was someone strong— can serve you better as an agent than as a treat for some strong enough to broadcast to him even when he was striving power-hungry usurper.” to block the message out. The article was not written for deep FOR NOW, I AGREE. BUT REMEMBER THAT ONE WAY OR THE concentration, so it was of little use. GLENDA FIELDING IN OSWEGO, ILLINOIS. SHE IS HAUNTED OTHER, YOU WILL ALWAYS SERVE. AND WILL WORSHIP YOU… With an irritated noise, Usiel turned from the window to Usiel was on an airplane to Boston, wrestling with the the in-flight movie. He didn’t have headphones, so the question of whether to get a gun or not. They seemed to be humans on the screen looked asinine, capering silently. very useful for harming or even just intimidating the hu- They were hitting one another with pies. mans, but he had a streak of pride that made him reluctant YOU NEED WORSHIPPERS IF YOU ARE TO BE STRONG ENOUGH to acquire such a mundane weapon. Furthermore, Clive TO DESTROY THE EARTHBOUND. Keene had some very vivid memories associated with fire- This was no ally of his. This was a tempter, trying to lure arms, and Usiel was concerned that owning one would only him into the tactics of the fallen. The lust for human worship increase the mental and emotional interference from his was their flaw, and they would not make it his. He had his sins, host body—interference that was already annoying enough. but craving human adoration was certainly not one of them. 171 170 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES TURN ASIDE FROM YOUR PURSUIT OF VASSAGO AND SPEAK Hasmed turned his face away, but he couldn’t block out WITH ME. I SHALL GIVE YOU A BETTER TARGET. their voices, and the hatred—the pure, sniveling malice— Summoning strength he could ill afford to spend, Usiel pulled his eyes back. It was like a car wreck of souls. He wanted finally replied. to look away but found himself staring instead. AND “Go away and shut the hell up,” he hissed. Etched in each feature was profound loathing. It was GREG The man sitting next to him turned and gave him a equal parts disgust—contempt for the other caused by perfect blank look. understanding of every failing, small and large—and shame. ANGEL AS YOU WISH. WHEN YOU LEARN SOME UGLY TRUTHS, I’LL That was what took it to the next depth, really. He could look at them and know, know, that they loved one another, or at SPEAK WITH YOU AGAIN. least needed each other. The hate each had was mostly self- hate. Each despised in himself, in herself, the part that loved WINGS The diamond heist wasn’t nearly as slick as Hasmed had the other. And it didn’t reduce the love one bit. hoped. Getting the liquid nitrogen went just fine—hiding He knew that look. He knew he’d worn it, ages ago. out unseen in Sargento Welding Supply was a snap. He Against his will, he remembered… wrecked some stuff transferring the liquid into a smaller container, but so what? Roscoe seemed nervous as hell when he dropped Hasmed a block away from the police station, but Winter had come, and the war was going poorly. it was a full moon, the Jets had just lost a game, and the The fall of Vejovis had been a blow to the Host, but it only weather was wet and cold. This meant that people were made them cautious, not afraid. The rebels had ceased their irritable and drinking, and that driving conditions weren’t sorties against Heaven after too many losses, and they were that great. A perfect recipe for busy, distracted cops. now concentrating on fortifying the material world. It was When he saw a paddy wagon pull up, Hasmed decided that the right decision—the Holy Host was unwilling to unleash its the time was ripe. Ros had watched Jack Haskell go in and full fury in the mortal realm, when there was a chance of come out hours earlier, while Hasmed was jacking Sargento. damaging it further or causing human casualties—but it was The diamonds were in. The police had their hands full. hard in more than one way. It was not lost on the soldiers of Time to go to work. Lucifer’s army that their safety came at humankind’s ex- Hasmed walked through the blind spots of a dozen pense, and living with that wasn’t easy. people as he entered the precinct house. He went straight to Outside the emotional weight, it was also difficult to pick the first door and waited. one aspect of reality and defend it exclusively. By operating “Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you and your bitch mama!” mainly on the human scale, they ceded other realms to “You can’t talk to me like that, you cock-sucking shitball!” Heaven, which left them many fronts to protect. Hasmed gritted his teeth as a man and woman were Hasmed was out with Gaviel, sweeping through the Stark dragged in, both with their hands cuffed. She had a black eye. range in search of angelic scouts. It was just the two of them— He had claw marks on his face. Each was accompanied by two forces were thin—and they were to flee if they encountered uniformed officers, who were straining to keep them apart. more than one foe. They were tense and alert, for they had “Little help here?” one of the officers said. “We got that never patrolled with fewer than five before. It wasn’t fear as double-D here from Shady Pine Court.” humans know it, black and paralyzing, but they were uncer- “Hands full!” shouted another cop. “With you in ten!” tain and concerned. “Damn it,” muttered the first officer. The couple from They didn’t find angels. What they found was a small camp Shady Pine Court continued to scream abuse at one another. of humans, six of them. Four men, two women, all carrying “Cunt! You fuckin’ whore cunt!” short spears and hunched over in their cloaks and soggy furs. “Asshole! Shitbag asswipe!” They had made a tiny fire, and two of them were crouching low, blowing on it, trying to raise it against the chill. 173 172 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES breast? No, our trail is closed behind us. Only by joining the Hasmed did not speak to Gaviel—not with words, not with Abelites, repudiating the demons and begging God’s for- sound. His communication was a pattern of mathematical giveness can we be sure of safety.” ripples in the contingent factors of wind and snowmelt and the Hasmed had heard enough. With a gesture, he stood fluid dynamics of hot air touching cold. Gaviel understood, of AND before them. course, and he moved unseen even as Hasmed did. GREG “There is no safety for your kind,” he said. “I don’t think Ruchel is going to make it,” one of the men Most of them cowered, and Hasmed felt a strange conflict said, and his voice held sorrow the way only a human could— ANGEL within him. He was sorry that they were afraid of him, their double sorrow, sorry for the other and also for because they were human and he loved them, but he was also themselves. “Myicha, do you think he’ll still be… hated?” glad, because they had betrayed his cause. Hasmed was used Hasmed flowed around each of the humans, tasting their to feeling time split and pass at different rates, he was used to breath, and he sensed the pain and disease in all of them. WINGS being matter and spirit at the same time, or existing simul- Only one was close to death, though, and with a gentle caress, taneously as an abstract idea and as a concrete physical Hasmed wiped the illness from his brow. He didn’t take it principle… but this was the first time he’d ever known two all—there was nothing to gain by revealing himself—but opposite emotions. enough to take Ruchel out of danger. Only one, the woman Myicha, stood her ground. “How “There!” said the man by the fire. Turning his regard, long have you been spying on us?” Hasmed watched it flare up and finally catch well. Unlike the “Long enough to save your ill friend. Long enough to humans, he heard Gaviel’s words to the flames, teaching save you all, by kindling your fire.” them how best to burn. “I don’t believe you.” “Even if Ruchel dies, the One Above will know,” said the “WOULD YOU BELIEVE ME?” Gaviel, too, unveiled himself. other woman, Myicha, the one who wasn’t tending the camp- “No human can doubt one of the Radiant Ones—even fire. “The One will know we have turned away from blasphemy.” when he lies,” she hissed. “If we are now once more beloved by the Most High, why Hasmed was taken aback. “How can you hate us so?” he doesn’t He help us?” asked a man. “Where are His angels asked. “Have we not fought Heaven on your behalf? Have we when we are cold, when we are dying, when we are injured?” not given you the gift of awareness, for which you were so “We have not yet earned such aid,” she replied. “Did we obviously intended? Have we not sacrificed all that we were, not side with the fallen, when they tempted us with blasphe- only for you?” mous knowledge? Why should he send his agents into danger “Hah! Fought Heaven—and ruined Eden in the pro- to save weak souls such as us?” cess. Have you sacrificed? We never asked you to! And as for Unheard, Gaviel asked Hasmed if he ought to appear. your gifts, what have you given us that you did not steal from Hasmed cautioned him to wait. your Maker?” “Perhaps He will never forgive us,” said a different man. Her hate was contagious. Hasmed knew he should reason “Perhaps we cannot unsay what we’ve said.” with her, and he tried. “It’s too late now, Bachlus,” said the woman by the fire. “All we did, we did for love, selfless love! Believe me, we “The followers of Eve and Adam won’t welcome us back—not would rather die ourselves than see you suffer…” after what we did, not after killing Darmen and Seatus. Our “Then how is it you live? We suffer every day! Thanks to only hope is that Abel’s tribe will take us in.” you, we know age and sickness, and we know the animals’ “Eve and Adam might forgive,” Bachlus replied. “If the claws! You speak of your suffering, but you are not the ones Morningstar or one of the others intercedes on our behalf. subject to inevitable death, you are not the ones helpless and They need us. Remember what the Lady of the Waterfall ignorant as others battle for your fate!” Song said. Every prayer is needed. Every worshipper counts.” “And so you would betray us to our enemies?” Hasmed “The Allmother and Allfather cast out their own son for asked. shedding blood. What chance do we have, not nursed at Eve’s 175 174 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Rejecting blasphemy is no betrayal!” from which he’d entered, and as they passed he overheard “JUST LISTEN TO ME,” Gaviel said, but Myicha turned her them muttering. back, closing her eyes and covering her ears. “…just went crazy down in the holding cells. I don’t know “No!” she shrieked. “You boast of giving us freedom, what the hell…” AND but when we choose against you, you use your words of Pulling his hat down low, Hasmed walked through the GREG enslavement!” field of the first camera. One down. One to go. “You blame us for your misfortunes,” Hasmed re- After a couple more turns, he went through an unlocked ANGEL sponded, “Perhaps you are right to do so. But we are all, man door and found a cop staring at him. and angel alike, subject to God’s wrath. Only together can we The officer was white with a scar on his cheek, and he had free ourselves from His curses…” something in his eyes that said violence was quite all right by “I’ll never go back with you! I’ll not listen to the lies of the him. It was a spark of avid cruelty, and as Hasmed ap- WINGS devils and the defilers! You sickened me with consciousness, proached, it brightened. you doomed me to mortality, but I won’t spend what life I “There’s something here,” he muttered. have exalting you in your treachery!” Hasmed realized that the cop couldn’t see him but could “DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU HAVE A CHOICE?” Gaviel feel him. The wind of Hasmed’s wrath was fanning the flame asked. “YOU WILL RETURN WITH US. HASMED AND I WILL SEE of this stranger’s rage. And it was all getting caught on the second camera. YOU SAFELY BACK TO YOUR PEOPLE, AND WE WILL INTERCEDE ON “Rickie, what… what’re you…?” Another cop, maybe the YOUR BEHALF…” “I need no demon to speak for me!” angry one’s partner, was looking on confused. “No, there’s… it’s here. I can’t… Listen Fred, there’s She seized her spear and brandished it, eyes wide. Nei- something here!” The mad glint in Rickie’s eye was blazing ther of the Elohim paid it heed: Against them, it was as dangerous as a blade of grass. now, and he pulled out his gun. An eerie smile creased But she wasn’t planning on attacking them. As Hasmed Rickie’s face, and Hasmed wondered if Rickie longed to serve reached out to take it away, she brought the tip up against her or destroy the evil he sensed. Maybe both. chest and dropped her weight forward. “Rickie, put that…” “For the Maker!” she choked, fighting to speak as the Rickie spun. Hasmed had been sneaking past, but the spearhead pierced her heart. “For the Most High!” gun was now pointing in his direction once more. Both angels screamed. “Fred man, can’t you… can’t you feel it?” “Sure, Rickie. You’re right. I feel it now.” Fred’s voice was tense as he pulled his stun gun out of its holster. “I really At long last, a cop came out the door. Hasmed shook do.” He jammed the electrodes into his partner, and Rickie himself and tried to put Myicha—possibly the world’s first dropped to the floor. He didn’t even have time to yell. suicide—out of his mind. It was hard. The look of loathing on The demon slipped through a doorway as he heard Fred her face was just like that of the arguing couple. muttering into his radio. Glancing at them once more as he slipped through the Clearly something was going wrong (really wrong) with door, he saw that they’d stopped screaming at each other. his concealment power, but he was too far gone. No reason Now, instead, they were both straining, both grunting and to stop now. He came to the second door, the one to the pulling against the officers. basement, and pulled out the canister of liquid nitrogen. They weren’t looking at Hasmed, but they were franti- Ten minutes later, he slipped into Roscoe’s car. Ros cally straining toward him. Uneasy, he slipped through the jumped. door and closed it. “You startled me!” He slipped down the corridor and went down it at a “Drive!” fast walk. Three cops were hustling up it toward the door 177 176 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Did you get the stuff?” taken her away and claimed that she was back in Las Vegas, “Drive!” returned to normal life. The other artists had discussed the Not long after that, they were in Mr. Fortune’s office, possibility that Avitu had simply killed her, and had tried to spilling a paper bag of diamonds onto his black wooden table. believe it, but it wasn’t easy when the creature could so AND “Holy crap!” Ros crowed, staring. “That’s unbelievable! obviously kill them all if that was its goal. GREG Oh my God, man! Oh my God!” “I believe you prefer the ‘everything’ bagel?” Avitu said, Fortune grunted, looking down. They were just rocks, to holding one out, along with a plastic spoon and a container ANGEL him. He recognized that they were cut, unset stones and of cream cheese. Jennifer took it, fighting her instinct to say therefore pretty easy to fence. But really, just stones. thank you. “Harvey, what the hell happened to your shoes?” “I’m curious why you won’t worship me.” “’Cause you suck!” That was Joeesha Murfee’s response. “That liquid nitrogen crap. When I was putting it on the WINGS door lock, it spilled on my shoes, too. Damn it.” She was a sax player and not the most articulate woman in the “Your feet okay?” world, but Jennifer respected her resistance to the blandish- “Yeah, yeah. It’s just a pain in the ass.” ments Avitu proffered. “Worth it though. No one saw you, right?” “Can you clarify?” the mud woman asked dryly, and Hasmed bit his lip, thinking about Rickie, about the Jennifer shuddered. Gustavus had talked like that, and now couple from Shady Pine Court, about the way he’d become his words, his pat phrases, his smug tones were coming out of a beacon for everyone crazed and violent, about the way his the mouth of this artificial whore monster. “If worship is good for you, we ain’t havin’ none of it.” own sickness had seeped out and caused chaos all around… This was Brandon, a high school dropout who’d decided, “Fuggeddaboudit,” he said. “No one saw a thing.” against all reason, to become a performance artist. “Why should we help you out when you dragged us up here, start Jennifer woke and, for a moment, felt a flood of relief. killin’ people, kidnapped us an’ all the rest?” It was the same relief she’d felt every day for the past couple “Isn’t power one of the attributes of a deity?” Avitu of mornings. There was a brief time, between sleep and full asked. “Greek mythology is full of…” wakefulness, when she always thought she’d had a dreadful “Oh God, I got so sick of hearing about myths when it was dream. For just an instant, she could hope that she was in Gustavus talking about them!” Jennifer shouted. “There’s her own bed, that Gustavus was alive, and that the world more to being a goddess than just having power! Otherwise, made sense. people would be worshipping nuclear fucking warheads!” It was that fraudulent hope that always led her to open her “Or Oprah Winfrey,” added Joeesha, with a quirk at the eyes, expecting to see her bedroom dresser, her cat, her corner of her mouth. guitar case in the corner. Instead, she saw clouds and realized “Then what are the other traits of divinity?” Avitu asked. that the nightmare was all true. “What must I demonstrate to win your willing faith?” As with every morning, that horrible mud creature was “Well, for one thing…” Brandon started, but Jennifer there. She’d started wearing clothes—today a Hooters T- cut her off. shirt and hip-hugging blue jeans. In her—no, Jennifer had “No, don’t tell her! Don’t tell this evil bitch anything. to remind herself—in its hands, it held a paper bag full of Why should we help her? If she’s too fucking stupid to figure bagels and bottled water. out how to act, why should we clue her in?” “Are you ready to pledge yourself to me?” it asked, as it Avitu smiled—that sickeningly gentle smile—and said, always did. “According to Gustavus’s memory structure, now would be “No,” Jennifer said, but it was mostly reflex. Pamela a good time to grow to thirty or fifty feet high and throw Creed, an unpublished novelist, had given in two days ago thunderbolts at you, but I don’t want to terrify you into and had immediately been released. The mud monster had belief. That’s short-lived, and it’s not fair to you.” 179 178 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “If you don’t want to terrify us, let us go.” This was Stuart the burdens of questioning your being.” The corner of her Flaubert, a painter who’s primary palette was human fluids, mouth quirked up. “Gustavus would call it ‘existence with- usually his own. out existentialism.’” “Quit talking like him!” Jennifer shrieked. She didn’t “I can’t do that. It would be unethical.” AND “Unethical?” Jennifer cried. On one level, she realized want to cry, she hated being a crybaby, but she couldn’t stop GREG that she was giving Avitu just what it wanted, that it was herself, she cried. drawing her out, but she just couldn’t stop herself. “So For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her ANGEL kidnapping us and holding us prisoner is ethical?” sobs. Then Avitu said softly, “It’s only your humanity that “As one of the creators of the human race, I feel a certain makes this painful.” parental protectiveness toward you,” Avitu responded, with- out a hint of irony in its tone or expression. “You are lost, WINGS It was close to two in the morning when Thomas Ramone degraded, sad and isolated creatures. You may think the best got home after closing Video Villa. He just wanted to brush thing you can hope for is to be released back into your self- his teeth and crawl into bed. He was exhausted and a little made cages, but trust me—” depressed, so he hadn’t even noticed that the lights were on “I wouldn’t trust you if you was the last demon on Earth!” in his apartment. Brandon interrupted. Despite his weariness, he noticed Angela Meyerhoff “—in the long run, you’ll be much happier as my wor- when he opened his front door. She was sprawled out on his shippers. A heroin junkie wants nothing more than his couch, stark naked and watching the TV Guide channel. needle, but it’s no favor when you give it to him. Honestly, “Hi Thomas,” she said. “I masturbated in your bed- I wish I could just take away your consciousness now, really I room. Hope you don’t mind.” do. But there’s an element of your awareness that I keenly “Wha… you… buh…” need, and I can only take when it’s freely offered—” “Close the door, will you? I feel a draft.” “So you’ll just, what, brainwash or blackmail us since you He did, mentally trying to prioritize the questions can’t just rip us off?” This was Joeesha again. tumbling through his mind. “How’d you get in here?” he “Have I tried either of those things? I haven’t threat- finally blurted. ened your families, though I could. I haven’t tortured you She gave him a withering glance. “Oh Thomas. If you or denied you sleep or kept you hungry, though I could do can’t figure that out…” all those things too.” “Well… what are you doing here? What do you want?” “Yeah, you’re a hell of a hostess,” Stuart said. “I just wanted to check in on my favorite piece of property. “Instead, I’m trying to explain to you where your best I was kidding about your bedroom, by the way.” Thomas’s interest really lies. If I can persuade you, you’ll eventually couch had a ratty old blanket slung across the back. He’d thank me.” bought it in Mexico and eventually used it to hide the cigarette “We’d be much more open to your persuasion if you burns and worn-thin patches on his sofa. As she stood, Sabriel didn’t have us under duress.” picked up the blanket and wrapped it around herself. “Now Jennifer, you know that’s just not true.” Jennifer “Look, I… You’d better…” He opened and closed his gritted her teeth, hearing the creature’s chiding tone. “If I mouth a few more times before his brain caught up with what let you go, you’d just run as far and fast as you could. she’d just said. “What do you mean ‘property’?” Wouldn’t you?” “Well Tom, you didn’t think you’d sell me your soul and Jennifer turned her back and raised her middle finger at that would be it, did you?” the mud woman behind her. “I just… figured that… you know, when I died or “What I offer you is freedom from conflict, freedom something…” from uncertainty, freedom to simply be without suffering “Oh my, why ever would I wait that long? You’re, what, twenty?” 181 180 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Twenty-four.” “What?” “So even assuming you cut your life expectancy down with “My lease on that house ended when I went to Chicago, cigarettes and bad decisions, that probably means I’d have a and I haven’t found a new apartment yet.” minimum, minimum thirty year wait until you were of any “No! No goddamn way! Give me one good reason not to AND use to me. Do I seem patient to you?” call the cops!” GREG “Maybe.” Her laughter pealed out. “I’m not.” She started gathering up her clothes and “I suppose spending the night in the county lockup ANGEL putting them on. would solve my housing problem, temporarily. But the “Hey, why… Why were you naked when I walked in here?” next day I might just stupidly go and rob a bank, wearing “To freak you out.” your face and making sure the video cameras got it all.” As “Oh, real mature,” he said, for lack of anything better. she spoke, her face shimmered, like a rain-dappled pond WINGS She grimaced at him. and—for a moment—Thomas saw his own image. Then she “Currently, Thomas, our relationship is rather was Angela again. adversarial, isn’t it? You resent me, don’t you?” He stared, appalled. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Well, yeah. You, you fuckin’ imprisoned and starved me “That’s not part of the deal—I just want to sleep.” an’ shit. How do you think I feel?” “You… I guess… There’s not much…” He sat down in a “You could be grateful that one of the primal ministers decaying recliner and put his face in his hands. He gave a of creation deigned to share her power with you. You could deep sigh. “Are you going to seduce me now? Is that the next get it through your cannabis-numbed skull that you can now part? You screw my brains out, and I turn into a servant do something impossible, something miraculous. You could like… like Igor for Dr. Frankenstein? Is that next?” get the picture that you’ve entered a larger world, more real “You don’t sound too excited about it.” and more important than your daily drudgery of… what is it “I just want to get some sleep and… and not have all this, this… you know. All this.” you do, anyhow?” “I’m a clerk in a video store.” Sabriel perched on the arm of his chair, then got back up “Worse than I could have imagined. Honestly, why did when it shifted alarmingly beneath her. “Thomas, I promise that I will never sleep with you.” you start robbing houses?” “For the money, what do you think?” He looked up, and she gave him a crooked little smile, “Thomas? Is that the whole truth?” and he couldn’t help it. He laughed. It was mostly just “Why else?” exhaustion and bewilderment, but there was humor in it too. “For the thrill.” “Not only that,” she continued, “I promise to never give you any form of sexual gratification whatsoever. You’re right “You watch too much TV,” he said, turning away to switch off the set. to not want it, you know. You and I, we should keep things… “Here I thought I’d captured a bold and unconventional strictly business. I’ve been busting your chops, but you know man, one who sneers with pride at the hidebound conven- what? I’m done. I’m going to stop jerking you around, and tions of law—a John Galt, an Übermensch, or at least a I’m going to tell you the truth. I’ve spent the last couple of Raskolnikov…” weeks dealing with ‘artists’ and ‘creative types’ and, shit, it’s “Look lady, I have no idea what you’re talking about, a real relief to be with someone who isn’t jammed full of okay? I just want to go to bed. I’m tired.” stale, stupid pride. Someone who doesn’t assume I’m just She clucked her tongue. “Somebody’s cranky.” dying to hear his opinions. You’re really pretty sensible, “I don’t like…” Thomas. Don’t sell that short.” “Finding naked chicks in your home?” “Yeah well. It’s not like I’ve got much choice, huh? I kick “Being called property.” you out and you’ll just fuck up my life.” “Can I stay here tonight?” 183 182 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND XI STOLZE ASHES She smiled and shook her head with admiration. “Like I said: Sensible.” chapter “You really need a place to stay?” “I do. And I have an ulterior motive coming here, though AND it’s not the one you think.” GREG “Why am I not surprised?” The smile faded, replaced by a look that was almost ANGEL regret. “Here’s the thing. I’ve got an enemy now.” eleven “Just one?” “Listen, I’m being serious!” She sat back on the couch and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. Thomas WINGS found himself wondering if it was a real nervous gesture, or just an act. “I ran into a… well, it was a demon like me but it’s been here a long time, it’s gotten warped and… strange. I barely got away from it.” Thomas felt like something was expected from him, so he said, “Uh huh.” Hasmed had a busy day scheduled, but he’d built in extra “It’s probably not going to give up… and if it wants me time to get Tina ready for school. That turned out to be wise, dead or bound or expelled, then it’s going to probably strike because she dawdled over breakfast, argued about which at my sources of strength.” clothes to wear and threw a minor tantrum getting into the “Which means me. Right?” car. Then, when he dropped her at pre-school, her instruc- She nodded. “Keep your eyes open, Thomas. That’s why tor pulled him aside for a private word. I’m here. Not to seduce you: I’m here to protect you.” All of Harvey Ciullo’s instincts said to make an excuse, Thomas just shook his head, tired and resigned. weasel out, tell her he had an urgent business appointment “You can sleep on the couch,” he said at last. (which was not a complete lie), but Hasmed listened closely and wrote down a time when they could meet and talk. The stone man ran. Consequently, he was late for his meeting with Milkman He did not have Gustavus Doakes’ brainpower and memo- Boyer. Boyer wasn’t waiting patiently. ries—those were tied too closely to the creature called Gwynafra. “What took y’so long, Fortune?” He did not have clothing, though the shape of tan pants and a “Sorry, traffic was bad,” Hasmed said as he fished out his gray T-shirt and brown boots covered the surface of his skin. keys and unlocked the door. His features were coarse and unfinished, and Avitu had not “Traffic? Traffic was bad? Fuck, Ciullo, if you’re such bothered to sculpt hair on the flawless dome of his scalp. a motherfuckin’ seer, how come you didn’t see that one He did not have a name or even speak English, but that comin’, huh?” didn’t matter. He ran. “I’m sorry. I’m, look, I apologize, it’s my bad, my fault. He’d been running since he first pulled himself from Mea culpa. You satisfied?” the dirt. “This is bullshit,” Boyer muttered again, but he followed Running after Sabriel. Hasmed into the office and sat once again at the oak table. “I said I was sorry.” “You can’t jerk me around like this. You know that, right?” 185 184 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES got me? The mom’s thing in the man candle. And burn your Hasmed took a deep breath. “Tell you what. It’s my fault. dad’s thing in the woman candle.” I’m sorry I made you wait, so I’ll blow off the usual twenty. All “I got to burn my parents’ stuff.” right? Will that square things?” “Not all the way burned up but, yeah, you gotta burn it Lee Boyer looked left and right and straightened his AND pretty good. Like, burn a hole in it or something.” coat lapels. GREG “And this… this fuckin’ voodoo bullshit is going to fix “Fuggeddaboudit,” he said at last. “Let’s just get down to my life?” business.” ANGEL “Look, just try it. If it doesn’t do anything, don’t pay “All right.” Hasmed sighed and took off his glasses. “Oh me a dime.” yeah. I see ’em.” “Hmph.” Boyer sucked his teeth for a moment. “That’s “See who?” all?” “You know.” WINGS “All for now.” Boyer bit his lip and squinted. Hasmed could almost see He stood and tossed a pair of tens on the table. “I think him struggling to believe. On a bright autumn morning it you’re crazy, Ciullo. I think you’re off your goddamn nut.” was hard, but there wasn’t any bright sunlight in this room. But when Boyer went out, Hasmed opened the interior There was just the dim bulb above, the brooding bloody eye door and went into his small proper office. There was a and the tight knot of scar in the middle of his forehead. window in there, and watching through that, he saw his client “So my parents, right.” Boyer tried to sound matter-of- go into the bodega. As soon as he saw that, Hasmed scrambled fact, tried to sound skeptical. for the elevator, got in his car and lit out for Boyer’s “They’re your bad influence.” apartment. When Lee got home, carrying a plastic grocery Boyer snorted. sack, Hasmed was spying on him through a crack in the “I don’t mean that like it sounds. I mean they’re what’s staircase door. messing up your life.” As Lee Boyer shifted the bag and delved in his pocket for “Ciullo, you’re starting to sound like a shrink.” the keys, Hasmed took a breath and hid himself. Hasmed shrugged. “Here’s what you need to do. An’ I’ll Boyer looked up. warn you, things are going to get worse before they get better. Hasmed opened the stairwell door and crept into the You need to confront ’em. Smoke ’em out into the open and hallway. He saw Lee’s eyes peering in his direction, noticed face ’em head on. You do that, and they’ll stop screwing the man’s flaring nostrils, the way his lip curled back. around in the background.” “Someone there?” Boyer called, and his voice was tense “How do I do that, exactly?” and menacing. Hasmed said nothing, just tiptoed closer, “Okay, you know that little Mexican storefront a couple until he could almost smell the sweat of suspicion on his doors down? You go in there; they got them miracle candles client. As Hasmed stepped behind him, the Milkman turned on sale.” a little too, looking over his shoulder. With a murmured “Miracle candles?” curse, he went back to his keys and opened his apartment. “Yeah, you know. Those beaner candles, got saints on The demon slipped in a half step behind. ’em an’ stuff? You need two of those—one with a man, one Boyer set up the candles and lit them with a sterling with a woman. Doesn’t matter which saint.” silver lighter. He pulled out a cigarette and made to light it “Saint candles.” from a candle, but thought better of it. He continued to “Hey, I’m just tellin’ you. Take those to your apartment peer around the apartment suspiciously—his face usually and light ’em up. Get something your dad owned and turning toward Hasmed like a steel needle twisting toward something your mom owned. Burn the thing from your mom in the candle with the man on it. That’s important, you a magnet’s invisible pull. 187 186 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Yeah! C’mon! That all you got? Come on you shitty old Muttering, he went back into his bedroom. He emerged fucks! Come on! Come on!” a few minutes later holding a string of wooden beads. Hasmed decided that was just about enough. He smashed “Okay, mom,” he muttered, putting the beads on a a foot through the coffee table for good measure and slammed coffee table between the two candles. Reaching into a AND the door on his way out. pocket, he produced his key chain. There was an embossed GREG leather lanyard. Hasmed leaned in and read the name “LEE” on it. As he approached, Boyer twitched, as if ANGEL Still the stone man ran. startled and spun around. He wasn’t particularly swift, but he was strong. He never “Who’s…?” He trailed off, and his breath was coming got tired or distracted or bored. He was chasing the storm his heavy and fast. master had made, and that storm had chased Sabriel all the “All right,” he grunted. “Enough. Here you go.” He took WINGS way home. the lanyard off the key chain and held it in one of the flames. It was twenty-five hundred miles from Las Vegas to Hasmed grinned and looked around. There were some Miami, and the stone man ran every step of the way. pictures on the walls—Lee Jr. with a smiling woman a long time ago, a young kid, an old woman. Hasmed pulled them Usiel was in Washington, DC, and he could feel the stink off, one at a time and sent them sailing across the room to of diabolical power as he neared his target. Clive Keene’s smash into the opposite wall. memories were stunned at the thought of demons in the US Boyer jumped, then just stared, eyes wide. When Hasmed capital—stunned but somehow, not really all that surprised. realized that Boyer’s fingers were getting burned, he came He was more curious about why the evil’s epicenter was the close and blew out the candle. His client gave a little yelp and Smithsonian, instead of the Capitol or the White House. jumped back. The angel within Clive Keene cared little for such theo- “Yeah.” Boyer’s eyes had a mad gleam in them. “Now ries and distinctions. He knew he was getting close to Vassago, you, Mommy. Now it’s your turn.” close to the core of its being. He had a vague sense of the As he picked up the necklace, Hasmed saw the dangling demon’s machinations—it was ready for him, it had called its crucifix and realized it was a wooden rosary, just moments defenders, but Usiel was confident. Let them come. Let before it descended into the fire. them try to save their foul master or rescue him. Heaven’s He tore open the door to Lee’s stereo cabinet and started wrath would not be stayed by mortal hands. flinging the records out, one by one. Lee lunged toward him In the war against Heaven, the demons had developed any and Hasmed sidestepped, pausing to grab some old trophy number of low tricks—theirs was the side that had invented off the top of the TV and hurl it straight at the candle. deception and murder and ambush, after all. One of the “Hurts, huh?!” Lee shouted, swinging the burning cru- dirtiest was a sort of cosmic cannibalism. The demons had cifix through the air blindly—but surprisingly close to learned how to steal the power of a dying angel, using it to Hasmed. “Well you can both burn!” augment their own. Hasmed tipped a chair over and Lee lunged toward him. Usiel had never sunk to such tactics back then. He’d never For a moment, the demon thought that Boyer had him needed to, but now he felt Vassago’s stolen strength—twice trapped. The man wasn’t running away from these unseen stolen, taken from humanity by the fiend and now taken powers, he was running toward them. He couldn’t stay away. from it by Usiel—throbbing within him. Hasmed grabbed a tall book case and half-climbed it to He’d succumbed to his craving and destroyed the get out of Lee’s way. As it took his weight, it tilted forward. diamond earring, consuming that delicious little morsel Boyer stumbled back, and Hasmed himself barely got out of his enemy. An appetizer. Now he couldn’t wait for the from under before it crashed to the floor. main course. 189 188 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Usiel strode through the doors of the museum and saw surge of Usiel’s wings and two sweeps of his scythe to fell all his adversary’s pawn—a big man, brutish, lurking behind the three. As he struck, he felt a nearby flow of infernal power. leg of a stuffed mammoth and holding a scruffy overcoat. When he looked up, he faced no man, but the shape of one The demon’s stench was strong. of the fallen. AND “Excuse me, sir.” The man-become-demon had wings of night, darkness GREG Usiel ignored the guards completely until one grabbed for skin and razor spines protruding from his hands and his shoulder. With an irritated shrug, he tried to slip the head and the joints of his limbs. ANGEL grasp. Another guard grasped him by the arm. “Hey,” his opponent said. “C’mere y’ big fucko!” Grunting once, softly, Usiel called his releasing tool. He Again, Usiel vividly felt the tangled mix of the sacred and had nothing against the guards, but time was of the essence. profane, and it sickened him. Whatever this man was, what- With two blows, they dropped—not dead, but neither were ever he’d done, he must be destroyed. WINGS they alive. Their souls had been expelled into the ghost Then it spoke again—this time in the tones of one of the storm, and until they could fight their way back (if, indeed, unhallowed. they could) their bodies were useless. Usiel didn’t particu- “USIEL! MOST POTENT OF SLAYERS AND MOST DESPISED!” larly care if they recovered or not. He was clearing his path Usiel examined his enemy, pointing his weapon to keep toward his true enemy, the vassal. it at bay, judging what its strengths might be, its weaknesses… He saw fear in the big man’s eyes and began to run “I WAS NEVER CURSED WITH THAT TITLE, FIEND.” Usiel re- forward. The man flung his coat in panic and screeched, sponded. “I NEVER MIRED MYSELF IN THE FILTH OF BETRAYAL.” “Back off!” He edged little closer. With a neck-rattling snap, Usiel’s charge was halted. His “AND YET YOU WERE CONDEMNED NONETHELESS, USIEL. DO eyes widened as he felt immense power propelling him back, YOU THINK YOU CAN SURVIVE LONG, CRUSHED BETWEEN THE RAGE OF HELL AND THE SCORN OF HEAVEN?” power he couldn’t fight. Usiel knew he should ignore its taunts, but that one Holy power. struck home. Why should this polluted human carry the The compulsion shoved him back into a small chamber, blessings of uncorrupted angels when it was clearly the pawn a coat-check room. Amazed, Usiel struggled against it, but of the Neberu? Why should this mere man fling God’s wrath there could be no doubt. This was not infernal strength. This at Usiel, who never doubted His orders, who never dis- was angel strength, laced with the potent will of humankind. obeyed, and who continued the war even after being rejected? Cursing, Usiel changed into his true form, but even that “IN DESTROYING YOU, I SHALL DO HEAVEN’S WORK!” Usiel was impotent against the unseen barrier. There could be no took a mighty swing, but his enemy lunged in and grabbed the doubt that this was sacred might… channeled through the haft of the scythe before the blade could reach. abased slave of an Earthbound demon. Folding his wings around him, Usiel felt the battling His puzzlement turned to anger. Had the Choir Above energies, light and dark, within the man, and he realized a forgiven the thrall of a rebel, somehow unaware that it part of Vassago’s dangerous game. The light illuminated the continued to serve? Surely not. More likely the man was a demon’s darkness, and as Usiel struggled with the thrall, priest or some other sanctified warrior, tempted into dia- smelling its sweat and hearing its grunts, he felt the shape of bolical service. its master too. For just a moment, he saw its secret self. It was Stymied by the barrier, Usiel shifted himself into the a slight glimpse, but enough to read a syllable of Vassago’s realms of the dead and was shocked to realize that the wall True Name… didn’t exist there. Now even more confused, he stepped past Then the pure strength was upon him again, burning it and returned to the human realm. him, searing him as if he were the monster, he the rebel. The Three mortals—clean ones, more security—stared in man was pushing the power through its hand into his. shock and opened fire with their pistols. It took only the 191 190 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Burn, you fucker!” shouted Vassago’s slave. Usiel could Hasmed’s face took on a slightly embarrassed cast, but it feel the consuming power cutting through his hand, and his didn’t quite fit. It was like he was indicating embarrassment fingers dropped off like ripe fruit. He shrieked and swung for the benefit of others, who weren’t expected to believe it. his weapon one-handed, cutting through the lies of demon “Uh, I was hoping we could talk… alone. Y’know.” He AND wings, bringing the cold truth of human frailty… shuffled his feet. “I got a thing.” GREG “Back!” Again, the compulsion of the power Usiel could “A thing.” Hamish looked at the bookie, who excused not resist—the power he hoped to serve. As it tore him away himself to go to the can. His bodyguards looked at him, and ANGEL from his enemy, Usiel took one last swing, slicing across the Hamish shook his head gently. “Well Hahvey, we could, y’know. man’s chest, trying to reach the heart… but no. The monster Step out.” fell, but rose again, grabbing its coat, shedding its grotesque “Take a little walk.” form and returning to its bulky human guise. “Might help my lunch go down.” Hamish stood off his WINGS Usiel instinctively strained against the ward before he stool and led Hasmed out the bar’s back door. Strolling realized something: The demon’s focus was gone. The core through a greasy and garbage-strewn alley, Hasmed shuffled of its being… the very object he’d come to destroy… he could closer and gave Hamish a diamond. no longer feel it! “What’s this?” Ham asked, nonplussed. Furious that he’d been tricked, denied and injured, “My thing.” Usiel fled once more into the realms of the dead. Ham frowned at it, and it disappeared in his pocket. “Seems a fine thing.” “It’s not a fugazi, if that’s what you’re thinkin’. It’s real.” “So he says, ‘What kinda fairy name is Philly Phil?’ An’ “I never said ’twasn’t.” Philly Phil don’ say nothin’, just comes right off the barstool “Have one of your guys look at it.” into his groin, grabs him by the back of his hair, slams him “I know a man.” mouth-first into the bar—and it had one of those big brass “Good.” rails onna front, like this—slams him into that and says ‘It’s “An’ you’ll be wanting something?” my fairy name.’” “It’s a gift.” Vietnam Ham laughed as he concluded his story, and his That stopped Ham in his tracks. bodyguards laughed, and the bookie from Trenton who was “A gift?” drinking on Hamish’s dime laughed too. The only person “A present, me to you.” who didn’t laugh was Hasmed, but he’d just walked in. “Generous.” Hamish picked up a curly fry, dipped it in ranch dressing “Well, you know. I’m hoping you can help me out.” and crammed it into his mouth as he noticed his new guest. “Ah.” Hamish Brennan chuckled. “Y’mean you’re only “Well well! Hahvey Shooleo, Mr. Fortune, my favorite gypsy giving me a present to get my help? Well, that’s the way of fortune-teller!” the world.” “Good afternoon, Mr. Brennan.” “I’ve got more.” “Ach, you c’n call me Ham,” he said, in tones that subtly “More like it?” indicated that he did not mean what he was saying. He tilted “Uh huh.” his head. “Y’re lookin’ well, Shooleo. Lost some weight?” “How much more?” “I’ve been working out a little bit.” “A lot.” “Heh. Well, what brings y’ to the Mac?” “Hm. And were did you get them, pray tell?” “I was hoping we could talk.” “I got them.” “Aren’t we talking?” 193 192 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Ah.” Ham narrowed his eyes. “When you got them…?” “I’ve got a mortal body. I eat, I shit, I pit out my T- He rubbed a finger alongside his nose, and pulled downward shirts,” she said around a mouthful of brown pellets. at a bag under his eye. Hasmed shook his head. “I don’t believe this.” “You sure?” “Believe it.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry I drank all the AND Hasmed nodded. milk, so I’ll make it up to you. Hand me my purse?” GREG They’d reached the open air. Neither spoke as they “Yes, master,” he said sarcastically. The purse was crossed a street and started walking down a second alley. Christina’s—now a little battered from being stowed in ANGEL “That’s all right then,” Hamish said. various overhead compartments. Sabriel opened it, pulled “Trust me, you’d’ve heard.” out a fat wallet and yanked out ten bills. “I don’t hear everything.” “There.” “You’d’ve heard this.” Thomas looked. They were hundreds. WINGS “All right then.” “Are these real?” There was another pause. Then Hasmed said, “I’ll get “No, Tom. They’re counterfeit. I want to get you in screwed.” trouble because I figure you’ll be better protected in jail, “Everyone gets screwed,” Ham said, philosophically. where my enemies can’t reach you. Even though the power I specifically gave you is the power of freedom.” “Overhead.” “Middlemen.” “Hey, no need to be so sarcastic.” “Right.” “So does that cover the milk?” “Everyone takes a cut.” “Where’d you get the money?” “I know.” “Las Vegas, but I don’t want to talk about it.” She looked “But with this pie…” Brennan shrugged. “Even a cut up over her shoulder. “Coffee’s ready. You take it black?” piece, that’s still sweet, right?” “Sugar, no milk,” he said automatically. “Thanks.” “Right.” “Are you afraid of me, Thomas?” They reached the end of the second alley. He sighed. “Do we have to get into this first thing in the “It’s nice that you came to me with this,” Brennan said. morning? Yes, I’m afraid. You know I am.” “Who else?” She nodded. “I’m sorry, it’s just that… you have to believe in me. I need you to believe in me.” “We’ll make this thing happen.” Vietnam Ham patted “What for? You got all this money, you can… Shit, I have Harvey Ciullo’s cheek paternally then turned to go back to no idea what you can do. Change yourself around, I’ve seen his bar. After a few steps, he stopped, turned and tilted his that. Turn into water.” head. “You’re really pulling yourself together, ain’t you?” “This choco-crap feeds my body, but your belief feeds my “I’m tryin’.” soul. That’s not poetry. That’s truth, the same way shit feeds a dung beetle.” Sabriel used up all the hot water before Thomas got a “You say the sweetest things.” chance to take his shower. When he emerged, goose-pimpled “Right now, you are my sole source of nourishment.” and surly, she was digging into a bowl of Count Chocula. “I’m your shit, then? Sure explains how you been “Morning, sunshine,” she said. He glowered. treating me.” As he poured a bowl for himself, she said, “I’m afraid She shrugged. “You have to cut me some slack, Thomas. you’re out of milk.” I’m trying.” He slammed the box on the counter. “You’re trying to treat me well by breaking into my place, “Why do you even got to eat at all?” he demanded. “I by using up all of everything and playing these weird head thought you were a big hotshot goddess, huh?” games and freaking me out? What do you do when you’re trying to treat someone bad, huh?” 195 194 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES believers I have, the less likely you are to get picked, just by She told him about Nate Kowalski and Hal Guelder. For sheer odds.” a moment, he just sat, confused and shocked. “Jesus.” “Why?” he finally asked. “Look, it’s not as bad as you think.” “Because I’m bitter and mean, and I hate humankind, AND “Playing soul pimp to some fuckin’ demon from Hell Thomas. That’s what I am. That’s what I have to be.” GREG isn’t bad?” “But… I mean, couldn’t you—” “I don’t know how to be nice! Okay? I do not know how “Souls, bah, who cares? I’m not going to devour your ANGEL to treat people kindly. You got it? This human suit I’m soul when you die, Thomas, honest. I was bullshitting about wearing, she knew, but I’m not about to go to her for advice, that. I couldn’t take it if I wanted to. The fate of your soul, she spent her life getting knocked up and knocked over. the afterlife, it’s as much a mystery to me as it is to you. I want That’s what nice got her, so what I’m trying to do is be honest life, not death. And I can offer a lot to people.” WINGS with you and try my hardest not to destroy you accidentally.” “And what do I get out of this? Other than the ability to “Shit.” be the Amazing Puddle Man?” They sat in silence for a moment. Thomas got up and “What do you want?” started to make himself some toast. He took a long sip of his coffee and thought about it. “Maybe I’m bein’ dumb,” he said at last, “But you were “Well, for starters I’d like a new job.” nice to Nate and Hal, right? Until you… you know.” “Until I closed the deal.” Hamish Brennan phoned Sal Macellaio the day after “Right. So, why couldn’t you… you know, act like you’re getting the diamond, but it wasn’t a good time. setting someone up, then just not screw him over?” “I got a thing,” Sal said. She sighed and looked up at him, and for a moment Tom “A thing you’re doing, or a thing you got to do?” felt weird. For a moment he felt sorry for her because she “A thing I got to do. Came on kind of sudden.” looked sad. “You want I should come out and help?” “You might as well go to an alcoholic and say, ‘Why can’t Sal thought about it for a moment. you pull the top off the bottle, tilt it up to your mouth and “Eh,” he said noncommittally. “I guess. Meet me out let the booze inside just barely touch your lips… then put it north, ’kay?” down?’ I don’t know that I can stop myself. Be on guard, “North where?” Thomas. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to tear up “That one place. You know. With the thing?” your heart. So I’m not even going to give myself the chance.” “With the big thing or the little thing?” The toast popped up. Thomas put on butter and jam in “The big thing.” silence. Twenty minutes later, Hamish parked his dark blue “So what can I do for you, huh?” he asked at last. Cadillac sedan in a junkyard and climbed out of it. Sal’s dark “Find me some others like you.” red Cadillac sedan was parked deeper in, and Ham could “What do you mean, others like me?” hear the car crusher working. He walked over to its control “I mean people who will submit to me.” booth as the great hydraulic plates turned a large car into a “If you mean, help you tie people up in a basement, shit small cube. no. No. That’s all, no.” Sal was working the levers. “I mean people who want things. The more support I “So,” Hamish asked, jerking his head at the auto being have, Thomas, the less I have to rely on you. As my only squashed. “Whose was that?” believer, you’re a big fat target. Anyone who comes after me “I’m guessing Steel Pete, but I don’t know. It was an will kick you out of the way first to starve me weak. The more import.” “Messy or clean?” 197 196 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “He tried to clean me, but I wound up cleaning him.” “Fence his rocks. Take the typical 50% commission, then Like Sal, Steel Pete was the captain of a large local crew. take it again.” There had been rumblings lately that Pete was the heir “He knew we’d do that,” Brennan said softly. Sal gri- apparent to Johnny Bronco, who was in stable condition but maced again and gave the levers one final jerk. AND still sick and vulnerable. “Yeah, well, fuck’im. We can use the money. An’ if he GREG “You tell anyone about this foreign cleaner?” keeps screwing around in our territory, I’ll have ’im clipped,” “I’m tellin’ you,” Sal said, raising an eyebrow. Between Sal said, climbing out from behind the controls. ANGEL two old friends like them, that eyebrow might as well be a He did not say “again,” but he thought it. billboard emblazoned with KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT in bright yellow letters. The next day, Sabriel took Thomas out to lunch. He “What if Steely didn’ send him? What if it was someone WINGS warily suggested a place that served really good fish tacos. outside tryin’ to move in?” “So, where’d you say all this money came from?” he asked. “Whos’at gonna be? Boston? New York? “Las Vegas,” she said. Fuggeddaboudit. They’d be more likely to ice Petey or “Big winner huh?” Bronco himself than come after me. I’m the bastard they’d “Something like that.” want to back.” He shifted a lever forward and then another “Hell, if you wanted to gamble, you should’ve just stayed back. Steel groaned in reply. “They’d think I’m Judas.” here in Miami,” he said, as their meals arrived. “All kinds of “Oh yeah? You’re Judas?” flash rollers around here.” He shrugged. “No one’s offered me thirty pieces of “Is that so,” she responded, curling a lip at her food. whatever yet.” “Sure. I guess it’s mostly the dog races and jai alai, but all “Ah.” the college sports too, y’know? Man, I had a buddy who went “So. What’s on your mind?” to the University of Miami. He said these guys would be Vietnam Ham showed him the diamond. “From sitting on the sidelines of basketball games and, like, making Shooleo,” he said. bets on the guys taking warm-up shots. Not little bets either, “Yeah, so?” serious cash. It’s crazy.” “’Tisn’t a payment, either. A ‘gift.’ An’ there’s more like “Really?” She tilted her head, considering. “I thought it.” that gambling on college sports was… frowned upon?” Sal just frowned at him for a moment. “Get outta here,” “Not in Miami. Here’s it’s fuckin’ smiled upon. Don’t he said at last. get me started with the football program, either.” “Nah, I think he’s f’real. I think he made a serious score “Why not?” here.” “Aw man, it’s just crazy. These guys who can, like, hardly “And he wants you to fence it.” sign their names are getting degrees in business and shit. And “Yeah.” these guys are mostly poor kids—some of ’em from ghettos “Where’d he get it?” an’ shit—but they’re walking around with diamond rings and “Don’ know. But not from anyone mobbed up. He was two-hundred-dollar sneakers. I heard there’s a car dealer pretty sure ’bout that.” who gives a Jeep to every running back who catches a tie- “He fuckin’ better be.” Sal rubbed his face, grimacing. breaking pass, or something like that.” “This makes no sense. Harvey Ciullo? The joke? I mean, Thomas paused and looked up. Angela wasn’t eating, just that moron? Where’s he gonna get a bunch of diamonds and looking off into the distance. no one even hears? There’s something weird about that guy “What?” Ham. Something weird is going on.” “Sorry,” she said. “Just woolgathering. So, is Monday “So what do I do?” good for you to start a new job?” 199 198 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “What?” “Huh? How come?” “You want one, right?” “’Cause we’re not connected is how come.” He pulled on “Yeah! How’d you find me one so fast?” track pants and an old LA Rams sweatshirt and started to lace “I didn’t find it. I created it.” up his shoes. AND He narrowed his eyes. “What’ve I got to do?” His tone was “You took it to a made guy?” GREG a mixture of dread, suspicion and resignation. “Close enough. I took it to Hamish Brennan.” “It’s nothing bad. You’ll be a clerk in a bookstore, all Instinctively, Roscoe looked around to make sure no one ANGEL right?” was listening. He moved closer and lowered his voice. “A bookstore?” “Hawv, is that smart? Do you want the mob knowing “Yes. I’ve bought controlling interest in a floundering you’re putting strings together?” local establishment called the Threshold Bookstore.” “They’d find out eventually. Might as well be open about WINGS “Never heard of it.” it.” He stood and stretched backward. “As long as they’re “What, a bookworm like you?” getting rich ripping us off, why should they care?” Thomas flushed. “I guess, but… Jeez Hawv…” “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was cruel. It’s a New Age “Fuggeddaboudit. We’ll have our money in a week or two bookstore.” at most.” “Oh.” They exited the locker room and started jogging gently “What?” around the indoor track. “I think I get it. I work there and I tell you who’s buying, “Let’s talk about somethin’ else,” Hasmed said. “I just like books on demons and devils and shit, right?” heard from an associate down in Miami, an’ she said some- “Right. The Necronomicon for Dummies and such. thing real interesting.” That would go a long way towards gaining you some company in my service, yes?” Chuck Collins frowned. There was something weird Thomas didn’t look her in the eye, but eventually, by the about that new chick. end of the meal, he’d mumbled his acquiescence. Sabriel Not that there wasn’t something weird about a lot of the smiled and paid for lunch and thought about how to make dancers—a couple of them had names that made “Gwynafra” her pitch to Hasmed. sound as plain as vanilla ice cream. Some of them were flaky or neurotic or just plain bitches. That was okay. Chuck had Driving to the YMCA, Hasmed got paged. At a stoplight, been putting together dance shows for a long time (even if he looked down at the message and smiled. Milk Monster he’d never made the big time), and he could deal with that Boyer was eager to see him again. stuff. Anything but the goddamn druggies. Roscoe Paum was already in the locker room when Hasmed Chuck had a lot on his mind, running a small show in the shadow of Vegas’ glitzy big shows, but in the back of his head, entered. He was idly tilting his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders to loosen them up. “Hawvey,” he said. “What’s some small part of him kept picking at the idea of Gwynafra. the good word?” There was nothing about her specifically that he could put his “I talked to a guy about the thing.” finger on. She danced okay. She hit her cues okay. She smiled “Yeah?” and waved at the fans okay. The audience reacted okay. “He can move them.” Maybe that was it. She was just okay. “Hey, that’s great!” A gal like that—and in the privacy of his own head, Chuck “It’s not bad.” Harvey opened his locker and began to could admit that she was freakin’ gorgeous, the best looking strip. “We’re gonna get a tiny piece of what they’re worth but, piece he’d ever had on his stage—should be making the well, you know.” watchers really watch. But they weren’t. He’d put a picture of 201 200 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES her out front on the marquee, and that brought in the gents. harmony and meditation type. His name was Free Feurstein, But once they were in, they watched her dance for a while and he’d been on the very edge of bankruptcy when Angela then just looked away to Bitsy or Starshine or even that Meyerhoff stepped in with enough cash to keep him afloat weirdo Trunella. and some demands that seemed very reasonable (at first). AND It was like the picture of her was more real than she One, she wanted a job for her friend Thomas. Two, she GREG herself was. wanted to start carrying the ritual materials that her new But Chuck didn’t let himself think about that too hard. partner had heretofore shunned. ANGEL One night after the show, he followed her. He didn’t He balked, pointing out that the Voudoun people were even feel particularly creepy about it—he’d followed his girls all buying their stuff at John the Conqueror’s, while the before, when prompted by a gut feeling. It wasn’t a sex thing, Santeria clientele shopped at Frieda Cortez’s place. a voyeur thing. He was just protecting his investment. “Don’t worry about that,” Angela had said. “Just get the WINGS He wasn’t particularly surprised that she went to an stuff in stock.” Alcoholics Anonymous meeting at a local Lutheran church. Surprisingly, it was only a week later that the proprietress He was somewhat surprised when he saw her talking to one of John the Conqueror’s Bookstore closed up shop and left of the drunks after the meeting broke up. A dancer talking town. Free was able to buy up most of her stock at a deep to a guy was no big thing, but the guy she picked—cheap discount. Rumor had it that she’d seen a vision of an evil clothes, old, broken teeth. Even at an AA meeting there spirit and that it had frightened her enough that she was were much likelier marks, but she was talking to the hobo- going back to Haiti. est boozebag there. As for Frieda Cortez, she had a hard nose for business Chuck was uneasy about her spotting him, but his curi- and wasn’t going to let anything scare her. Nonetheless, her osity got the best of him. When the guy went to the bathroom, store suffered a terrible blow when it unexpectedly flooded, Chuck did too. He followed the man out of the can, took a ruining almost half of her stock. She stayed in business, but different cross-corridor and lurked around the corner. the cost of replacing the damaged goods trashed her cash “Drinking is just a temporary solution to a permanent flow, forcing her to lower prices to increase turnover. But problem,” she was saying, in that weird school-teachery tone with her profit margin narrowing, it would take her longer she sometimes took. “You drank to ease your pain, right?” and longer to recover from the damage, and in the mean- The man muttered something affirmative. time, Threshold could take away a lot of her customers. “But you were just trimming away its branches. I can give At least, that was how Angela explained it to Free. you something that will take it out at the root.” The man murmured in reply. He sounded uncertain. The stone man encountered some trouble on the eighth “Trust me, Jake. I used to be as trapped and miserable as day of its run. It was loping up and down the hills of a back- you, but there’s a way out. Please?” county highway when a pickup pulled up alongside. Jake mumbled again, but it sounded to Chuck like the “Hey mister, y’need a ride somewhere?” man was caving in. The stone man said nothing, because he couldn’t speak. “Hey!” Threshold Books had a bad location in a strip mall. It was Nothing but the sound of his heavy tread on gravel. crowded between a 7-11 and Fong’s Dry Cleaning. It was tiny “You all right? I mean, you have an accident or somethin’? and cramped and out of the way. Or you just joggin’?” Furthermore, its owner not only had a bad head for “Damn, Clancy, sounds like he’s ignorin’ you.” business, he didn’t like to carry supplies related to Voudoun Darren and Clancy, the two teenage brothers in the and Santeria—two of the largest “alternative” religions in the truck, were bored and restless. They were driving around region. He was a pagan, but more of the Earth-Friendly, aimlessly, sipping on juice boxes, listening to Travis Tritt, 203 202 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES needed to strike back. That was his only alternative to being and talking about who they’d rather nail, Shania Twain or Beyoncé Knowles. Running along and ignoring them, the afraid for the rest of his life. man was a distraction. They sped up and pulled over directly So he gunned the truck’s V8 engine down the highway as in front of the stone man. hard as he could and aimed the grille for the dead center of AND “Just where you headin’?” they asked, but he detoured the mystery runner’s back. Darren was groaning with fear GREG around them and kept running. Clancy—the big brother, beside him, but Clancy had to do it. He didn’t really under- eighteen and on the swim team—sprinted after him, easily stand that even a fleshy body can do tremendous damage to ANGEL catching up and getting right in front of him. metal vehicle (or, in this case, a metal vehicle with a fiberglass Without breaking stride, the running man smashed him and plastic body). And of course, he had no way of knowing out of the way. that what he was charging had the weight and density of a “Ow, you fucker!” granite boulder. WINGS “Clancy, you okay?” The crash was tremendously loud. Clancy rose, grimacing and holding his side. “That The front of the truck crumpled around the stone man, motherfucker,” he hissed as his face twisted with sharp flexing like a juice box bendy straw. Both boys slammed pain again. forward as the air bags deployed. Since Clancy didn’t have a “Son of a bitch!” Darren yelled, and picked up a rock. It seat belt on, he slid to the left, caught the corner of the airbag was a good-sized rock, about five pounds, and he gave it a and got his head slammed into the window. He died. Darren nice, hard overhand throw. It hit the man in the back of the got two ribs popped free of his sternum when the seatbelt head and bounced off. The man didn’t break stride. caught, but he was alive to see the man they’d hit pry himself “What the fuck?” Darren said, and there was dread in his free of the wreckage. voice. Later, he told the police that it looked like the man was “Shit man, I think he broke my rib!” scored with hundreds of cracks. He told them the man was “Let’s go, then… let’s get you to the hospital, ’kay?” bleeding gray dust, but they just wrote it off as the effects of “Not yet,” Clancy said, his eyes squinting up. He went his concussion. over to the truck and started climbing—grunting and biting He wasn’t as smooth or as fast, and he seemed to lurch a his lip—up into the driver’s seat. little when he moved his left leg, but the stone man started “Clancy, what you doin’? There’s something weird ’bout running again. that guy. Somethin’ ain’t natural.” “All the more reason.” He pulled the seatbelt across, It had taken Sal most of his afternoon to find out where then hissed with pain and let it go. Ciullo had gotten the diamonds. He knew he should have “Let’s just go, huh? Just get you to the hospital?” been paying attention to other things—angling for Johnny “You wanna leave that thing out running around?” Bronco’s forgiveness, aligning himself with some outside “Maybe… maybe we hassled him enough, huh?” action or trying to figure out what Steel Pete was doing—but “You said yourself he wasn’t natural.” Clancy reversed the the Ciullo thing bugged him. He’d checked in with his street truck and aimed it down the road. “You getting’ in or not?” ears, talked to people who knew stones, bought a couple cups Later, Darren would wonder why he got in. He guessed of coffee for cops on his dime, and he’d eventually dropped it was because Clancy was his brother. a grand on a copied police station surveillance tape. Clancy himself couldn’t have explained his behavior. His Now, sitting on his couch with a cigar, Sal couldn’t stop pride was wounded, certainly, and he was physically hurt, but watching it. mostly it was fear. He didn’t understand this man, this thing. He heard the doorbell ring and heard his wife’s cheerful It had hurt him, and he wanted to strike back. In fact, he greeting, and within moments, Vietnam Ham Brennan was ushered into Sal’s TV room. 205 204 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “So,” Ham said. He took in Sal’s tracksuit and cigar and but never processed—into their dead hands so that he could allowed himself the momentary hope that this was a social visit. claim self defense. He was a psycho, a killer. A pit bull. But the look on Macellaio’s face killed that thought quick. “So he Section-Eighted on the hat guy and his partner “Watch this tape, Ham.” put him down? That’s strange.” AND “It’s not even that. It’s stranger ’n that. Watch ’em again,” “Got any fucking on it?” GREG Sal said, rewinding. “He points the gun towards the guy in “Just you and me getting screwed,” Sal said sourly. Hamish sat on the couch, a respectful distance from his the hat, but not right at him. Neither one of them ever looks ANGEL boss, and watched. straight at the guy.” “This is from a surveillance camera in a precinct house,” “So, what are you thinking?” Sal said. Sal couldn’t say it, wouldn’t, but he was thinking about Ciullo They watched. in the steel mill, the way the shadows had crept around him… WINGS “What’m I lookin’ for, exactly?” “The diamonds were in the police lockup,” Sal told “You see that guy, the one with the hat?” Hamish. “Someone—this guy, I think—cracked the locks with “Yeah.” liquid nitrogen and stole the rocks.” “See how he got out of the way of those uniformed cops?” “Why not use a pick?” “Yeah. So?” “Don’ know. The bigger question is, how come no one Sal shrugged. “Okay, here’s the good part. This is from saw him?” another camera.” Hamish shrugged. “Well,” he said, “There’s no way There was a haze of static, and then they watched as the they’re going to let this guy go, right? I mean, robbing a hatted man entered a chamber with two cops. There was police station, that’s fookin’ barmy, right?” “Yeah,” Sal said quietly. “It’s stugaz. Kind of thing you’d no sound, but it was clear from body language that one of the policemen was agitated. The antsy cop pulled his gun expect from a guy with brain damage.” and was waving it around. The man with the hat moved out They were quiet for a moment. of his way—not dodging, but acting like he was tiptoeing, “Ciullo is probably involved, yeah,” Vietnam Ham said. even though he was clearly visible in the washed-out “Turns out I’m not the only guy to get a gift.” fluorescent light. “Yeah?” “What the hell is that?” Vietnam Ham asked. “He sent one to Johnny Bronco as a ‘get-well present.’” “Just watch.” “Wasn’t he the last guy to talk to Bronco before he had Hamish watched as the other cop pulled out his stun gun that real bad attack?” and put his partner down. He even chuckled a little, until a Hamish shrugged. “Y’think the cops’ll find ’im?” soft, irritated noise from Sal made him stop. “I think the cops will pretend this never happened. They “The weird cop—the one who pulled his piece—that’s don’t wanna look like clowns, y’know? And even if they knew Rickie Rosen.” it was Ciullo—even if somebody, say, ratted him out—how can “The pit bull?” they prove it? The evidence tape would cost them their pet “Exactly.” muscle creep, all the ‘decent’ cops would have to start doing Both men knew about Rickie Rosen. He wasn’t dirty in their dirty work themselves while Rosen weaves baskets in the conventional sense of taking bribes and making himself some residential program. Nah. I think they’ll let it slide, useful. He was dirty because he beat the crap out of restrained because I don’t think they have any idea who did it.” suspects, because he terrified waffling witnesses into follow- “How could they not see him? I mean, it’s not like he’s easy to miss, with that goddamn thing in the middle of his ing the police script, because he preferred to kill criminals forehead.” and then press unlicensed guns—drop-pieces seized in raids 207 206 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “I don’t know, my friend,” Sal said quietly. “I’ve seen “Look,” she said. “I don’t know what—” some weird shit, but…” Gwynafra effortlessly moved Pam aside and brought the “Yeah.” Hamish chewed his lip. “In da boosh,” he said at man in. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he’d been crying, last, “I saw some guys who could do some oddball stuff. and he seemed unsteady on his feet. AND Vanish from plain sight, seemed like. And Charlie… There “I need your help,” Gwynafra said bluntly. Pam blinked. GREG were some of the Cong who could just get in anywhere, it “Uh, I don’t know what exactly I can do.” seemed like. Like fookin’ ants. You just couldn’ keep ’em “Jake, could you let me and Pam talk privately for a little ANGEL out.” He shook his head. “So you think goofy Hahvey Shooleo, bit?” what, learned these slitty-eye kung fu vanishing tricks? What He nodded and went off to halfheartedly look over Pam’s makes you think it’s him?” bookshelf. The mud woman lowered her voice and explained Sal rewound the tape. “Who else you know wears a Cubs what she wanted. Pam turned pale and her jaw dropped. WINGS ball cap?” he asked. “Oh no. No no no. Look, I don’t know what you think—” “Pam, you agreed to the worship of Avitu. This is a critical element. This man, Jake Steubbens, he needs Avitu’s Pamela Creed stared down at the paper in her type- blessing, and you’re the closest thing we have to an awake, writer. It was an IBM Selectric. She told people she wrote aware shaman right now.” her novels on a typewriter because she felt energized by the “I’m sorry. I didn’t agree to, to…” chattering of the type and because the cold, flavorless “But you did. You agreed to submit your will to that of phosphor of a computer monitor took her out of the Avitu. I’m sorry, Pam. I wish it was different. I wish you could moment, impeding her creative flow. When she was think- know the bliss of ignorance, but you’re fated to carry Lucifer’s ing about it, she believed this. When she wasn’t specifically curse a little longer at least. While you bear that burden, you thinking about that explanation, computers frightened can serve as a priestess.” and intimidated her. “I’m not a priestess!” Pam was trying to do some more work on her postmodern, “You took the pledge. You accepted Avitu as your pa- feminist Elizabethan romance novel, but she’d been stymied tron. I’m afraid you are.” ever since being kidnapped by a demon in the desert. “But can’t you do it?” She sighed and looked over the thick sheaf of already- Gwynafra shook her lovely head sadly. “I wish I could. I typed pages. She’d tried to write yesterday, too, but had can help you, but the actual ceremony must be enacted by one wound up just going over the footnotes and endnotes again. of God’s favored children. It must be the choice of a human She’d spotted a couple of typos and had retyped the pages. soul, a human will.” Now it was time to push the novel forward, and she couldn’t “I won’t. I just won’t do it.” seem to start. “You must.” There was a knock on the door. Pamela believed herself Gwynafra took Pam by the hand and suddenly the un- to be irritated, so she ignored the feeling of relief as she went published novelist was short of breath. She gasped and to look in the peephole. hunched forward, but it felt like all the air in the room had When she saw the mud monster woman with a disrepu- been sucked out. She turned her head up, and her vision table-looking man hanging on her arm, Pam’s first instinct seemed to close in, narrowing like a tunnel until all she could was to pretend no one was home. see was the stone beauty of the goddess’s emissary on Earth. “Pamela Creed,” the creature called Gwynafra said. Somehow, Pam knew that it was not just air drawn out, “Open the door. I know you’re in there.” It knocked again— not only her lungs and throat being robbed. She could feel a peculiar hard and flat knock, like it was hitting the wood her life slipping away, feel the same sense of deadness and loss with a stone. Pam bit her lip and unlocked the door. 209 208 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES becoming longer and sharper. In moments, it had gone that each rejection letter brought. She wondered if this was from paring knife to five-inch ice pick. her soul, if that was what Avitu was consuming. “I think we should do this in the bathroom,” Gwynafra said When Pam’s knees hit the ground, the actual physical pain calmly. “And it would probably be tidiest if we were all naked.” began—searing, ripping pain deep in her lungs and lights. AND I don’t want to die like this, she thought, but her mouth “Tidy,” Pam whispered. GREG was gasping out, “I’ll do it. I’ll do it!” “It’s okay,” Jake replied. “This is going to be all right. She “Excellent.” Gwynafra released her wrist and looked promised.” ANGEL around the apartment. “Do you have a knitting needle, a “You can’t believe her…” Pam replied, but her voice was screwdriver… maybe a toasting fork, something like that?” low and leaden, with no passion in it. She could feel events Breathless, Pam shook her head. closing in. It was inevitable. “No matter,” the mud creature said, moving confidently They stripped and folded their clothes, and then the WINGS into the kitchen. “I’ll come up with something.” three of them crowded into Pam’s small bathroom. Jake got Pam stumbled to a chair and tried to catch her breath. in the tub, with his feet toward the spout. Gwynafra climbed “You okay?” in behind him, cradling his shoulders between her knees. She looked up and saw the red eyes and gin-blossomed His head rested against her belly, right beneath her breasts. nose of her other houseguest. Jake, she supposed. He made a joke about being naked with two women, but “No,” she whispered. no one laughed. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she instinctively Pam knelt by them outside the white porcelain. Gwynafra flinched away with her lip curled. He smelled sweaty, and crossed her ankles in front of Jake’s pale gut, clamping his not the kind of robust odor you get between jogging and arms securely. She put a hand on either side of his head. showering. This was a rank, layered, old sweat. Sweat that “I think a gag is a good idea,” she said. Jake agreed, and had dried days ago but which still clung. And his fingernails Gwynafra released his arm so that he could grab a washcloth were dirty. and stuff it in his mouth. Then he put his arm back behind She felt ashamed for recoiling, felt like a prissy stuck-up her leg. snob and that wasn’t her. And then she thought about what “All right Pamela,” the demon’s creature said calmly. she was going to do to him, and she shuddered. “Place the shaft against his face, along the side of his nose.” “It’s okay,” he said. “I want this.” “I can’t do this.” “Do you really understand…?” “You can, you must and you will. Lay the metal against He nodded. “She said it would make it all better.” His the side of his nose. The tip should go right into the tear eyes were bright with trust—maybe a desperate trust. “That I duct. There. Turn it in a little bit… it should be angled, just wouldn’t be tempted anymore, and I wouldn’t have any more slightly. If his face was a clock, and the center of it is right fears and worries and unhappiness. That I’ll just exist. Just between his eyes, you want it aimed at about… 6:30.” like a cloud or a mountain.” “Oh God…” Pamela was trembling violently. “Or like an animal.” She swallowed, hard. “Or like a “Just put the tip next to his eye.” vegetable.” “Oh Jesus…” Gwynafra came out of the kitchen with a kitchen knife Jake muttered something encouraging around his gag. in her hand. “Sorry about this,” she said. “I’ll turn it back Gwynafra bent forward so she could wrap her left arm after.” around his head, holding it like a football. With her right, As Pam and Jake watched, the metal blade twisted, un- she reached out and steadied Pam’s trembling hand. touched. It was like watching Uri Gellar bend a spoon, only “Right like this,” she said gently. “Now just push. Not too this time, the blade was stretching, curling in on itself, hard. Just nice and slow and smooth.” 211 210 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND XII STOLZE ASHES A horrible, low wailing sound was coming out of Pam’s mouth. chapter “Pam. Just breathe now. It’s okay. You’re doing fine. This is just right.” AND The trembling tip danced around in the red corner of GREG the yellowed white of Jake’s right eye. He made a pained, urgent noise, smothered and animal, as the needle tip ANGEL scratched and shredded the tender tissue. Tiny drops of twelve blood welled up. “Push it in! Push! Go! But not too hard, gentle!” “AaaaAAAAAAHHH!” WINGS “No Pam! Don’t close your eyes!” But the writer did, she closed her eyes and turned away and pushed hard. Jack gave one hoarse scream through the gag, but it was lost in Pam’s own cry. The man twitched a few times in Gwynafra’s concrete grip, then laid still. “Oh dear, Pam. You’ve killed him.” Chuck Collins thought about it carefully and decided to do it the most cowardly way he could. Miles away, a stoneware platter slipped out of Teddy He took another look at the newspaper, squinting at the Mason’s hand. He’d washed it and rinsed it and was drying it, picture of Jake Steubbens. Normally, the death of a homeless because they’d eaten a meatloaf off it and it was too big to go wino gambling addict wouldn’t make page one, even under in the dishwasher. He was drying it and reaching for the door the fold, but given that this guy’s face had been beaten in and of the cabinet where it belonged, when his mind went blank. they’d had to ID him from fingerprints… it made people It was not a perfect blankness—not a gray, neutral blankness. nervous and curious. The picture was from one of Steubbens’ It was the blankness of overwhelming loss. Teddy knew, numerous arrests for vagrancy. without doubt, that something special and precious had been He couldn’t be sure it was the guy Gwynafra had been needlessly squandered, wasted pointlessly because he wasn’t talking to, but he’d give it better odds than you’d get at there to… oversee things. roulette. Better to just can her and have that be the end of it. He felt stunning, tragic loss and knew it was his fault. If the police found out who did Steubbens, all well and good. Then the dish hit the floor and shattered, and he told Birdie If not, at least he’d get her away from him and his girls. If she that he’d just been so terribly clumsy. After sweeping it up, wasn’t involved at all… well, too bad. There was still some- he went to the phone in the bedroom and paid a lot of money thing weird about her. to move his flight to Las Vegas up a week. He could hear the girls coming off stage, and he stood in his doorway watching them file into the communal dressing room. When he saw her come out, he called, “Doakes! C’mere.” “Yes?” she asked as he waved her into the office. He shut the door behind her. “Have a seat.” “What’s this about?” He got into his own chair and said, “Doakes, sorry, but it’s not working out. I got to let you go.” 213 212 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Ciullo, you got to.” Boyer’s passion was ugly. His He’d learned from experience that when firing top- less dancers, it was sometimes good to have a big desk natural suspicion had flooded into his face, where it sat between you. But Doakes took it well—her expression oddly with the hope of cruelty. “You told me, didn’t you? didn’t even change. You said that by coming back, they were vulnerable. That AND was your word, vulnerable. You said if I did what you said, “Why?” she said at last. GREG I could hurt them like they hurt me. That I could destroy He sighed and held up a baggie full of catnip. “I found them. You said that, Ciullo.” this in your stuff, Doakes. Christ, you could’ve at least hid it ANGEL from me, y’know?” “I said I could see that possibility.” “That’s not mine!” Like flicking a switch, suspicion and hope turned to pure “Save it.” He shook his head. “You know I don’t hire hate. “You fuckin’ with me now?” His hands lashed out. His druggies, Doakes. I’m not going to the cops. I don’ need that left hand seized Hasmed’s right wrist, and his right grabbed WINGS kind of hassle. But you’re out.” his collar, pulling him forward over the table. She was silent for a moment, then stood to go. Slowly, Hasmed’s left hand reached up to remove his “I’ll send your wages to that PO box,” he said to her sunglasses. The gaze he fixed on Lee Boyer was distant as a retreating back. mountaintop and just as deadly cold. She closed the door behind her. Chuck breathed out “You think you want this,” he said. hard and was pleased. She might suspect that he knew “Fuckin’ A.” something about Steubbens, but she didn’t know for sure. “When I said it was a possibility, that meant it might not And he’d said he wasn’t going to the cops. And she’d figure happen. There’s always that chance in anything you do, (if she had half a brain and was involved with the bum’s whether it’s an exorcism or… say… a Brinks job.” death) that he could have simply called the fuzz and had “You’re not backing out.” It was half challenge, half them waiting when she came off stage. He didn’t think she’d statement. be any more trouble. “I won’t. The question is, will you?” Fifteen minutes later, several dancers saw a burly man “I’ll do anything.” with brown skin and hair rush in the backstage door and Hasmed’s bloody eye flickered, and the Milk Monster make a beeline for Collins’s office door. There was a brief slowly eased his grip, leaning back. sound of struggle, then the man ran out again. When the “EXCELLENT.” Fortune’s voice changed, becoming reso- witnesses cautiously looked in the office, it was obvious that nant and commanding. Collins was dead. Boyer took a deep breath, eyes narrowed. “So.” He licked The next day, Gwynafra showed up for work as usual. his lips. “What you got?” Hasmed surged to his feet and unveiled himself. His wings swept out, brushing the walls on either side. His Milkman Boyer looked eager. He’d beaten Mr. Fortune wounds, the marks of human death, blazed from his face with to the office again, but he wasn’t angry about the wait. He just unholy light. wanted to get down to business. Boyer didn’t scream. He didn’t back away. He stared, and “You were right, you were right,” he said as they went a small smile grew on his face. through the door. “It was them, them the whole time. They It was the look of a man who’s been seeking a demon all wouldn’t let me go, not even in their graves.” his life. “Yep.” “Yes,” he whispered. “Now how about the rest of it?” They sat down on “I CAN CLEANSE YOU OF YOUR PARENTS’ WOUNDS,” Hasmed opposite ends of the table, but Boyer was on the edge of his intoned. “I WILL NOT CHANGE THE PAST, FOR THAT HAS MADE YOU seat, leaning eagerly in. “You can do the rest, right?” WHAT YOU ARE. AND I WILL NOT CHANGE YOUR SOUL, FOR IT IS THE “I think so.” 215 214 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES WOUNDS ON IT THAT MAKE YOUR PAIN SWEET TO ME. BUT THE At first, the store’s sparse customers seemed to be over- weight white women in earth tones with high, breathy voices HAUNTING YOU HAVE EXPERIENCED SHALL CEASE FOREVER, AND and lots of beads. Sometimes he’d spot the male of the YOUR BODY WILL BE FREE OF YOUR PARENTS’ MARKS.” “Yes.” species, inevitably bearded, generally ponytailed, but the AND “BUT THE PRICE IS HIGH. FOR THESE BOONS, I DEMAND women were the majority. Every now and again you’d get GREG YOUR WORSHIP AND OBEDIENCE. I WILL BE YOUR GOD, AND YOU someone young, skinny, pierced and tatted—the gender on those could be male, female or optional. They tended not to ANGEL WILL BE MY SLAVE.” “Yes! Yes!” buy much. Hasmed stepped forward and enclosed the man within Not long after he started, though, Free had him unload his wings. Lee Boyer, Jr. was lifted up, and he felt sweet a bunch of weird stuff into the stock room. Then the two of breezes blow through is body, sweeping away his scars like them worked all afternoon moving dream-catchers and WINGS leaves in an autumn wind. He felt his leg straighten where it Starwind books around to make room for roots and flags and had been poorly set. He felt his shoulder joint—the left candles and a bunch of other stuff that looked different from shoulder, the one his dad had always grabbed—straighten out Free’s original stock. and settle back properly. Even his face was made anew, as the After that afternoon, a trickle of new customers started nose his mother had broken returned to its original state. coming in. Blacks, most of them real dark blacks, and a lot of Far sweeter was the joy in his heart, knowing that this them with accents or headscarves or both. They weren’t being, this holy monster, would destroy his parents’ souls chatty like the earth tone women. They bought their candles forever, consuming them perhaps, or condemning them to and their plants, and they left. A few spared him enough the fire. He took a deep and pure pleasure from that thought. attention to give him dirty looks. Then, not long after that, the shelves got even more He had no idea that he’d been tricked. crowded with a different bunch of paraphernalia, and an- When he opened his eyes, it was just plain, scarred Harvey other segment of the buying public started trickling in. Ciullo standing before him. But Boyer didn’t doubt. He could feel something new inside him. These people were all Latino or Latina, dressed in jeans and “So,” the fortune-teller said. “I’ve got this thing I’m plaid shirts and cowboy boots or sandals. Like the blacks, they setting up in Florida. You want in on it?” weren’t interested in a lot of talk, which was fine with Tom. He couldn’t help but notice that the two new groups usually looked poorer than the original customers. But they At first, working at the New Age bookstore was a pretty came more often and spent more money. sweet job. Almost no one came in. It was like working the video store, only Free was a lot less of an asshole than his old boss. Roscoe Paum was uneasy around Milk Monster Lee In the course of some of his most boring hours, however, Boyer, even after Harvey assured him it was fine, that he Thomas had idly picked through a few of the books that were didn’t need to worry, that the rumors about Boyer were all just lying around—The Ebon Branch, Manes Malus, The hot air and smoke. Hasmed had finally gotten fed up and Left-Hand Door. Pretty much anything with a gnarly look- played “Zoth of the Hated Lash,” telling Paum that Boyer ing demon on the cover. wouldn’t harm him, that it was under control—basically Knowing that he’d signed on with such a creature didn’t the same things he’d been saying as Harvey. But, as he’d make for encouraging reading. Still, given how much of the expected, Paum paid more attention to the demon than stuff in the books was bullshit from his own experience (“Ye the man. Even after that, Ros was jittery when they swung by to pick demonne cannot coerce, onlie persuade.”), and how much of it contradicted the stuff in the other books, he figured it up Boyer, which Hasmed just did not need. Getting Helena was all a crapshoot. to agree to watch Tina for a long weekend had taken all of his 217 216 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES native persuasive abilities, which weren’t much. The thought When they’d first arrived in the cloudscape of lightning, had crossed his mind that he could subtly shift her thoughts with the Earth suspended miraculously above them, it had with angelic grandeur, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to waste been awe-inspiring, mind-boggling, unbelievable. Now it energy on one of his allies. He didn’t want to risk the was merely boring. AND consequences if it failed. And, no doubt influenced by Jennifer had painstakingly folded and torn a paper bagel GREG Harvey’s remnants of affection, he didn’t want to screw with bag, then used a pen from her purse to make a deck of playing her head. cards. The prisoners had spent the day playing spades and ANGEL He had, at last, dummied up a story about a job interview hearts. They’d played every poker variant they could think with an old friend from high school. It wouldn’t have held of—they gambled for nothing, tracking their wins and losses water if she examined it closely, but he dazzled her with cash. with knots in their shoelaces. Even Brandon’s accusations of He had never, before his death or after it, offered her money cheating were a diversion from boredom. Even boredom was WINGS to watch Tina, so the sight of a short stack of twenties better than contemplating their fate, or their dilemma. convinced her he was dead serious about the trip. She was still They’d taken great care not to drop a single card, since dubious, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. there was no floor for them to fall upon. They’d gotten Tina was much less sanguine. She wailed like a torture through another day without going mad or giving in to the victim as he left the apartment, and Helena had to physically demon, and in the night, it had stolen their cards. restrain her from running after him. Tina hit her aunt and “Well, there’s charades,” Brandon said. “Did you ever read I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream?” kicked her, but it was no use. Watching the elevator door close, Hasmed had one of Jennifer asked. those uncanny, unpleasantly human moments of mixed guilt Joeesha shook her head. Brandon did too. and relief. “Gustavus was really into science fiction, you know. Or Then Roscoe had started in about Boyer again, and really into hating it, anyhow, and he badgered me into Hasmed had told him to shut it. reading that story.” “Hey Shakes,” Lee said as he slid in the backseat of “So?” Roscoe’s Dodge. “How you doin’?” “It’s about people being held prisoner by this evil com- “Can’t complain. How ’bout you, Milkman?” puter, and eventually they decide—on the spur of the moment, Boyer turned white. Even his lips were white. “Don’t call because it can read their thoughts—to kill one another.” me that.” There was a moment of silence. Brandon and Joeesha “Don’t call me Shakes.” and Jennifer looked at one another. Nods were exchanged, “Guys, guys,” Hasmed said. “Calm down, huh? Could we but no one moved. do this without measuring each other’s dicks please?” “Come on,” Jennifer said. “We probably don’t have long “You just watch yourself,” Boyer muttered, sitting back. before she shows up!” They were like that all the way to the airport. “You should’ve told us about this after she left, when she was far away and going in the other direction, not when she was on her way here!” Joeesha shouted. Jennifer woke up when Joeesha Murfee said, “The bitch “Well, I’m sorry, but now that we’ve said it, we know she stole our playing cards.” heard us. We have to do it now!” “What?” “You sure this is what you want?” Brandon asked, un- “She must’ve taken ’em last night when we were sleep- easy. ing.” “Hey, I’d rather be dead than cave in to that thing,” “Damn it!” Joeesha said. “Y’all can do me first.” Stuart Flaubert had caved in two days previously, leaving only Joeesha, Brandon and Jennifer. 219 218 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES The mud creature shook her head. “Brandon, do you Jennifer bit her lip and then, tentatively, grabbed think it’s that simple? Even if I gave in and released you, what Joeesha’s sleeve. “C’mon,” she said to Brandon. “We can do you think the police would say when you wandered into use the lightning.” town? You’ve been missing for weeks. Telling them you were “You sure?” AND “Do it!” Joeesha yelled. being held captive in a cloud isn’t going to go over well.” GREG Brandon grabbed her other arm, without a lot of energy, Brandon’s mouth twisted. “Who’d miss me?” he asked, and the three of them started walking toward the column of and his voice was bitter. “You’re lyin’. I could drop off the ANGEL face of the Earth… shit, I did… and no one would notice or blinding light. “Shit, we could just jump in on our own. You could.” even care.” “I don’t know if I’ve got the guts,” Joeesha said, her eyes Gwynafra reached out to stroke his cheek, but he flinched getting wide. “Besides, suicide’s a sin.” back. “Loneliness,” she said. “It only exists as long as you’re WINGS “Oh, and axing someone to kill you ain’t?” aware of it. It’s like the circle of light from a flashlight “Christ, you’re starting to sound like Gustavus,” Jen- beam. It’s real, but click it off, and it’s as if it was never nifer muttered. there. That can be yours—that click, that relief—if you but Gwynafra appeared before them, rising out of the clouds. serve me a little while.” “You say our awareness is like a drug, but you’re the one They froze. “You poor children,” she said. Her expression was genu- who sounds like a pusher,” Joeesha said, stepping up beside inely sad. Brandon. “Promising to take away the pain. First one’s free. “Hey, fuck you!” Joeesha said. “You’ll never control me, All that shit.” so you might as well kill me yourself!” Gwynafra sighed. “Even your imperfect comprehension “You long to be free of your discomfort, but your prison gives you some insight. We are at something of an impasse, is not this realm, this pocket of space and time. Your prison but not the one you think. I could wait until the stars died is your own mind.” without getting impatient. Boredom is a human attribute. “Shut up shut up shut up…” But the time span in which you can return to your lives as my “Your minds are not ready for the burdens they bear. You servants, without rousing undue suspicion, is passing fast.” were not meant, yet, to be the fulcrum on which the scales of “I don’t care anymore,” Jennifer said. “You think my old justice rest. You’re not strong enough to bear the weight of life was so great that you can break me by letting me back in good and evil as those slippery ideas shift back and forth. it? Think again. If I have to go to jail or get thrown in an Wouldn’t it be better to be liberated from those concepts?” institution, better that than serving a murdering monster.” “I don’t want to be amoral!” Jennifer shouted. “I don’t “You will serve me one way or another,” Avitu’s mouth- want to be an animal! Jesus, can’t you see how… how absurd piece said benignly. “Currently, you can choose your path it is? Trying to rationally persuade us to become irrational? of service. You’re the one who’s crazy!” “One: You can choose to serve me in life, enduring the “The poison of rational thought is all you understand, so burden of consciousness for a while longer as my priest or it is the only tool I can use. It has blinded you to my love for priestess, feeding me your will and doing my bidding.” you. It has blinded you to your own best interest.” “Pass,” Brandon sneered. “You’ve said all this shit before,” Brandon said. “It “Two: You can serve me in life, against your will. Soon, didn’t work the first time, and it ain’t workin’ now.” He took when my plans grow greater, your praise will not be neces- a step in front of the women and puffed up his chest. “Why sary. Then you can have Lucifer’s curse lifted by force.” not just admit you’re licked? Let us go. Get some other “You’re lying,” Joeesha whispered, but she said it like a suckers and try your played-out shit on them.” hope and not an accusation. 221 220 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Three: You can serve me in death, giving me your “Why can’t you do it?” memories and knowledge as Gustavus did.” “I could, but I want you to. It’ll make a better impres- “You mean, you’ll eat our brains.” sion.” With a small smile, Gwynafra nodded. “A set of modern “Aw man… what time do I got to be there?” AND assumptions is most useful for simulacra like this body. Soon “Their plane gets in at noon.” GREG I’ll be strong enough to make another one,” she said, looking “Noon? And you’re calling me at, shit, 3:00 AM?” between Jennifer and Joeesha. “Perhaps a musician.” “I didn’t want you to make any plans.” ANGEL The three artists looked at one another in dread. “What if I already got plans?” “Think it over. Have a decision by tomorrow morn- “Cancel.” ing.” The mud woman handed out bottles of water, bagels, When he got to the airport, it turned out the flight was condiments. “Oh, and don’t bother trying to get through delayed, but after waiting an extra forty-five minutes, he saw WINGS the walls.” three men walking toward his sign, which read CIULLO. The first one was short and wiry, and he moved in a series “Walls?” Brandon asked. of efficient spurts. Every step seemed to start loose and And suddenly there were walls. relaxed, then surge forward, then sag back into relaxation. He had sad eyes, a flattened nose, and his ears had the Thomas had felt uneasy the first time he turned someone puffiness common to boxers and serious wrestlers. on to Sabriel—it was a thin, geeky type who was always trying As he got into earshot, Thomas heard the man saying, to special order some book called Dies Ignis, despite Tom’s “Nah, ’s like flushing your money down a toilet. They’re just assurances (and, eventually, Free’s as well) that the book did gonna raise taxes and piss the money away on people who’re not exist, that it was a hoax and a joke and a trick on the scamming the system. I mean, look at me. I ain’t been sick for gullible. The twerp kept coming back and winking and acting a month an’ a half, but my disability checks keep rollin’ in.” like Tom had been putting him on. Eventually, Thomas told “Why don’t you tell ’em then?” This was the second man, him, “Look… I know this chick who might help you.” a little taller but just as skinny, wearing an uncomfortably He never saw the runt again. He kept telling himself that heavy suit and looking around with mean, sharklike eyes. He anyone who wanted a demon that bad would find one even- walked with an assured, gliding tread that wasn’t even arro- tually, so he (Thomas) might as well get something out of it. gant—it was barely-restrained viciousness. He looked like he He told himself the same thing the next couple of times— was seeking an excuse to make trouble. again, both men, and both seeming to have an attitude or an “Hey, Boyer, it ain’t my job to make sure the system aura about them similar to the first would-be “diabolist.” works,” said the shortest man. They also reminded him of the 1:00 AM porn-renters back “The system doesn’t work,” said the shark—Boyer, it at Video Villa. seemed. “I mean, look at all them rape-os and murderers It eventually dawned on Thomas that the more schmucks and psychos who get off on technicalities. If it was me, I he sent her way, the less attention she seemed to pay him. wouldn’t even give ’em the chair. I’d break their fuckin’ backs She’d gotten a new rental place and a new hairdo (jet black) and leave ’em to die in the sun.” and didn’t seem to expect as much from him. “I’m surprised,” said the third man. He was as tall as the Until one Thursday she called him at three in the morn- second one, but he seemed shorter. Probably the heaviest of ing and said, “I need you to pick some people up at the the three, but the easiest to ignore—he looked soft and fudgy. airport tomorrow.” Even his round head, with a short dusting of bristly hair on “Wha’?” Tom rubbed sleep from his eyes and tried to the top, looked like some sort of pastry dessert. But then he focus his mind. got closer, and Tom could see an angry red scar in the middle “Three guys, coming in on United. I need you to give of his forehead, like a caste mark from some incredibly them a lift from the airport to my apartment.” 223 222 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES violent mockery of Indian society. That crawly looking flaw “Gawd, it’s touching t’see a team stick together like that,” gave his whole face an entirely different cast. Boyer said. “Hey, I believe in capital punishment, that’s all,” Boyer “U of M got censured way back in 1987, and the NCAA said. investigated rumors of corruption again in 2000,” Hasmed AND “You support capital punishment?” said the little man. said. “They’ve been very cautious since then. They’re trying GREG “It’s funny. Almost all the killers on death row support to keep the money hidden—at least, as much as they can when capital punishment. They just support it unofficially.” such big sums are moving. That means there’s no ledger, no ANGEL paper trail, no checks. It’s all cash.” Scarface said it like that ended the matter. He looked at Tom and said, “Hi. I’m Harvey Ciullo, but people call me “And that means they can’t report it stolen,” Paum said, Mister Fortune.” smirking. They worked in two teams—Angela and Roscoe Paum on WINGS one team, Hasmed and Lee Boyer on the other. Angela’s job After all the planning and watching and discussion, the was to lure Jasper “Spur” Whitty, the team’s starting quarter- actual job went down surprisingly smooth. back, into a truck with Roscoe, where they would drug and Hasmed introduced Boyer and Paum to Sabriel—or, as subdue him. At the same time, Hasmed would sneak into the he said it, “My old friend Angie.” Paum shook her hand and banquet hall and see who was collecting the dough. While that made a weak joke about how he had a cousin Angie, only his was going on, Lee would check in on Angela, get a Polaroid cousin was a guy. She simpered. of Spur Whitty in danger and take it to Hasmed. Then the two Later, Roscoe asked Hasmed why he hadn’t mentioned of them would approach the money man (or men), show him that his friend was such a fox. the Polaroid and take the cash. “She looked a lot different last time,” was the answer he Easy. got. After the niceties, Angela briefed them on the schedule. “University of Miami has one of its big games tomor- “So, uh… you known Ciullo long?” Roscoe was sitting in row. They’ve already got a lock on a playoff seed, but this is the driver’s seat of a U-Haul rental truck, with Angela an old rivalry, so a lot of alums are in town for it. The Meyerhoff next to him. She seemed distracted. betting action is heavy.” “Sorry?” Hasmed smiled. “You and Hawv. You known each other a while?” “Oh, a long time,” she said, with a secret smile. “Every year, before the big game, there’s a banquet for the team and the alumni—not all the alumni, just the high- “How’d you two meet?” rollers and the ex-footballers.” “We used to work together.” She checked her watch. “I “The big donors,” Paum guessed. Angela gave him a think it’s about time for me to go into action.” lovely smile and put a finger on her nose. “A’right. Take it easy, ’kay?” “Exactly right. The dinner is private and, unofficially, “You’re sweet,” she said, patting his cheek. it’s the biggest fundraiser of the year. It’s all under the table, Ros tapped on the steering wheel for a while, listening to of course—the donors pay into a slush fund, which the the radio. He listened through “Stardust,” “Smoke Gets In coaches use over the course of the year at their discretion. Your Eyes,” “My Way” and “Love Child.” The radio station Remember when Jasper Whitty got arrested for shoplifting was playing “Little Brown Jug” when he saw Spur Whitty last year? The discretionary fund paid off the store owner coming out of the banquet hall with his arm around someone and got the charges dismissed. Scuttlebutt is, it also pays to who wasn’t Angela Meyerhoff. Shit, he thought. She must have missed him. bribe certain professors, hires prostitutes for prospective Paum didn’t have a gun—none of them did, as far as he recruits to the team… even paid for an abortion for a star knew. But he’d helped himself to a black-handled steak knife running back’s girlfriend back in 1998.” 225 224 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES in a plastic sheath out of Angela’s kitchen. (For a chick But the football star hadn’t reckoned with the woman without much furniture, she sure had an extensive cutlery behind him. When he let go of her wrist and lunged, she selection.) It was in the inside pocket of his lightweight waited half a beat, waiting for him to exhale. Her rag was blazer, and as he walked toward Whitty, his left hand came up right there when he instinctively took a deep breath, and AND to pluck the lapel open. that did it. GREG “Uh, excuse me,” he said, then blinked. Roscoe barely got out from under him as he crashed. It was Angela with him after all. But it didn’t make sense. ANGEL “Muh?” Whitty looked up with the sway-necked gaze of a Unseen, Hasmed watched the banquet winding down. drunk. “Who’re you?” His head lolled in the other direction He’d been uneasy about concealing himself after the to Angela and he raised an eyebrow. “An’ who are you?” near-riot at the police station, but this time it seemed to “Spur, don’t you remember me?” Angie asked, pouting. WINGS be under control. “Jeff just introduced us!” While the quarterback goggled He’d gotten there early and watched a long time. A lot of down her shirt, she gave Roscoe a meaningful look. He wasn’t the cash traded hands early, and the donors were surrepti- sure exactly what it was supposed to mean, however. tious. But as the night wore on, alcohol eroded their sense of “You’re, uh, Spur Whitty, ain’t you?” He had a pad shame, and they began to wave money openly. soaked with ether in his pocket, and so did Angela. “Can I get The bagman wasn’t drinking. He was a large fellow, with your autograph?” a quietly competent look, and a couple people addressed him “Sorry, man. Too busy.” as “Marns” or “Coach Marns.” He had a briefcase, into “Aw, c’mon…” which the money went—loose money, money secured with “Hey! Beat it!” As Whitty looked up, aggressive and banker’s bands, money in envelopes and manila folders and annoyed, Angela stepped behind him and clamped her even one small paper sack. (The man with the sack seemed to pad over his mouth. He seemed confused for a moment, feel it was a tradition. People laughed as he presented it.) then reached up with both brawny arms and yanked her When a particularly well-dressed man took Marns aside, hand down. Hasmed followed and spied on a discussion about Marns’ Roscoe was ready. It wasn’t quite like boxing, but close “protection”—a Ruger 9mm with a high-capacity magazine. enough. He’d timed a thousand dropped guards in the ring. The demon paid little attention to their talk about the This time, though, instead of a punch, he just pushed a rag stopping power of hollow points versus dumdum rounds. He into the big guy’s face. was watching to see where Marns had his holster. With one hand holding Angela’s wrist, Whitty raised the As the night wore on and the boasts and jokes became other to knock Roscoe’s hand back, but Paum’s reflexes were louder and cruder, Hasmed began to feel something burn- far quicker. He jerked his hand back and re-inserted it ing and sizzling in his belly. It surprised him. He shouldn’t under the athlete’s arm, right at his nose, before Spur could get indigestion—his body was no longer subject to such pains. even take a clean breath. When Whitty lowered his arm, Ros Besides, his supper had been peanut butter on white bread just did the same thing in reverse. with bananas and a glass of milk. Whitty was in magnificent shape, but ether on top of Concentrating on his curiosity, he realized that his body booze was not what he was used to fighting. Still, he had one was reacting to his feelings, just as if he were human. This good rally left, and with a low grunt, he curved both arms disturbed him, and he decided to leave. together and charged. It was a hell of a hit, the kind of thing How much money changed hands in there? He won- that makes a tackle dummy shift and slide. The boxer dered. How many hungry children would it feed? How many danced back, but Whitty was twice his weight and easily second chances is it worth? And how many people, employed knocked him down. by those men in there, are angry or depressed or tugging to make ends meet—all so they can be rich and posture before 227 226 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES other rich men and dazzle stupid teenagers into winning a the door and slammed into the backs of both knees. He game for them? cried out and flung up his hands as the parking lot blacktop But then he thought about his master, and about the rushed toward him. He hit, stinging his palms, and some- Stone of Despair, and about Rabbadün. Compared to one was on him from behind, reaching around him, digging AND what they would do with that money—or with the power it for his gun. GREG represented—the men within seemed harmlessly naïve. Evan Marns had played football himself, and he’d Sweet, even. wrestled. His reflexes were a little rusty, but the were still ANGEL He walked up to the Plymouth LTD they’d stolen earlier there. He grabbed his attacker’s hand, pinning the gun in that night and knocked on the passenger-side door. Boyer the holster, then tried to fight for his own grip on the opened it for him. pistol’s butt. “Guy’s named Marns. He’s got a gun in a shoulder hol- A foot slammed into his hip as he rolled, but it was a WINGS ster.” momentary distraction before hideous, massive pain flooded Boyer nodded. “What’s he wearing over it?” into his entire head. It was coming from his right ear, a “A blazer.” powerful clamping agony. To relieve it, he instinctively “Hm.” rolled the way it was pulling, and then he was on his back and “That going to be a problem?” the agony shifted to his nose. He heard, more then felt, the “Nah, I don’t think so. Not with two on one. Besides, crack as his nose bone broke, and then an icy voice in his good guns don’t scare you, right?” ear said, “Lose the gun, or it’s eyes.” “They should scare you, Lee.” Marns drew in breath to scream, and then felt some- Lee shrugged and handed him the Polaroid. It was a good thing metal release his nose and very gently bracket his one. Whitty was passed out on a featureless white sheet with Adam’s apple. today’s evening paper next to his head and the tip of a steak “Or we can do it this way,” said the chill voice. knife positioned under his eye. Marns gave up. They waited in silence for the banquet to end. Someone grabbed him under his shoulder and roughly heaved him upright. “Unlock the door,” he was told, and he obeyed. While all the other coaches and players and donors were Inside the field house, he paused to wipe tears from his going home, Assistant Coach Evan Marns pointed his car eyes, and in the dim red light of the Exit sign, he could see toward the university campus. He didn’t notice a blue Ply- his attacker. Not a big guy, but fearsome with the blank mouth following him, so it was wasted effort on his pursuers’ anonymity of a stocking over his face. There was Evan’s gun part when they turned off into a side street near the field in his right hand, and in his left, Marns saw what had so house. tortured his nose and ear: An ordinary pair of spring It was late and Evan was tired, and carrying all that money handled, needle-nose pliers. made him feel funny. His right hand kept coming up to In response to a tense gesture, Evan raised his hands. brush the handle of his gun, but it didn’t help his unease. “The money,” said the masked man. He went to his office, opened up the safe hidden by the “Look, I don’t…” false bottom drawer of a filing cabinet, put the briefcase in, The pliers darted in and gave him a savage pinch on the and sealed it up again. side of the ribs. It was quick—his scream was only a brief, It felt good to have the cash out of his hands. With a sharp note—but strong enough to tear skin. lighter tread, he returned to the parking lot. “Okay,” Marns said. “Okay.” He was two steps past the exit when something moved behind him. He didn’t have time to turn, or even register the noise, before something fast came out of the bushes by 229 228 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “So, anybody want a gun?” “True,” Hasmed said, “But it’s cash money, and it was They were back at Meyerhoff’s apartment. Boyer had safe and easy, and they probably won’t go to the cops. How taken the clip from Marns’ stolen weapon, checked to make many times have you done a bigger job and gotten screwed by sure no round was chambered, then set the pistol in the a fence?” AND “Fences don’t screw me,” Boyer muttered, but he seemed middle of the table before taking off his rubber gloves. GREG “Maybe,” Angela said. “You might as well leave it here to have taken the other man’s point. when you go.” Then the door crashed open. ANGEL “I’m more interested in the money,” Paum said, eyes bright as the bills got sorted into fifties, tens, twenties and The walls around Jennifer were made of cloud. Stretch- hundreds. ing up a good thirty feet, they formed a circle about forty Looking at it like a heap of paper, it didn’t look like WINGS feet across. It was, of course, impossible to climb them. much. The men from Jersey had all seen old ladies with When she pushed against them, there was no resistance. bigger heaps of coupons, sorting them at the store. But when She could walk into the wall—and walk and walk and walk— you realized how many were hundred dollar bills… Your without ever getting anywhere, but as soon as she turned perception flip-flopped, like one of those Magic Eye pic- around, she was back in the open-topped, circular “room” tures, and suddenly the pile was huge. from which she started. Hasmed and Angela were dividing and counting—each She shouted for Brandon and Joeesha, and she heard under the watchful eye of the other. very faint replies, but conversation was clearly out of the “I don’t even know why we bothered with snaffling the question. They’d all be hoarse from shouting after even a jock,” Boyer said. He was keyed up and jittery. The chance to few minutes. be cruel had made him cheerful. “We could’ve just taken it Eventually, she gave up, sat and just waited. from that fat dopey coach.” “We didn’t know it would just be him,” Hasmed replied. The man who came through the door was big, brown and “It could have been five guys. Or eight.” bald. He moved with a clumsy, hitching gait, but with plenty “Yeah, I guess.” of power. Angela tapped a pile of cash into a tidy rectangle. “I’ve got “Hey!” Roscoe shouted. a total,” she announced. The man didn’t say a word. He just made a beeline for “So do I,” said Hasmed. They looked at one another Angela. steadily for a moment, and then she said, “Forty-two thou- A typical hero would have interposed himself between the sand, five hundred and fifty.” attacker and the woman, but Roscoe wasn’t a hero. He was a He nodded. boxer, and the sight of the man’s unguarded back was a rare “Not bad for a night’s work,” Angela said. “Split four treat. Right and left, his hands flashed out—first for the back ways, it’s ten thousand, six hundred and thirty seven dol- of the neck and second for the kidney shot. A normal man lars… and fifty cents. Anybody got change?” would have crumpled in pain, if the head shot didn’t knock “Just give me the ten thousan’ six, that’s fine,” Roscoe him out clean. said. The intruder didn’t even notice. Instead, it was Roscoe “I still think our plane tickets ought to come out before who yelped, waving his hands to try and clear the sting out of the split,” Boyer said. his knuckles. It had been like hitting a brick wall. “C’mon, remember the deal,” Hasmed said. “This is “Shit!” That was Angela, ducking away and bolting down okay. We’re all coming out ahead.” a hallway. The man turned in pursuit and ignored it when “It’s not a huge pot,” Lee grumbled. 231 230 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Hasmed picked up a steel folding chair and smashed it across moment it was a cracked stone statue, unnaturally alive and the back of his stone shoulders. trying to rise. Then, suddenly, it was nothing but desert dust. “What the fuck?” Roscoe said. He’d only now noticed the There was a moment when the only noise was the ringing cracks and fissures and dust, only now noticed that he was in their ears. Boyer stepped back and absentmindedly waved AND fighting a moving statue. gun smoke away from his eyes. GREG “Kill him!” was the response. Hasmed had kept hold of “What the fuck?” Roscoe whispered. He’d backed away the chair and was struggling to chase the invader down, from the thing until he hit a wall, and then he’d crouched ANGEL hammering fruitlessly at its back. down on the floor in a ball. His eyes were wide with panic and “Step aside, boss.” With a series of efficient metallic disbelief. Then he blinked, and it was visible on his face as he clicks, Milkman Boyer had put the clip in the gun and had a half-coherent thought and seized it, used it to pull chambered a shell. Hasmed ducked into a bathroom off the himself together. WINGS hallway, giving Boyer a clear shot at the brown man’s back. “Angie? Angie, you okay?” Paum ran down the hall to The sound of the gunshot was thunderous in the en- where she’d fled. Hasmed emerged from the bathroom and closed apartment. Boyer and Paum could both see the impact looked at the pile of dust. He stirred it with a toe, noting the where the bullet hit, but not because of any bloody wound. flattened slugs mixed in with it. What they saw was cracks and chips of stone. It was like they’d “What the hell was that?” Boyer asked. Hasmed shrugged. shot a boulder. “She’s gone!” Paum came back, eyes wide. “What the fuck?” Paum repeated. “Somehow, I’m not surprised,” Hasmed murmured. “No, I mean she’s gone,” Roscoe repeated. “There ain’t But they’d finally gotten the brown man’s attention. He turned. Roscoe darted back from the mouth of the hallway. a door or a window or nothin’ back there, but she ain’t in the Boyer shot the intruder in the shoulder, then in the room.” chest. Each bullet gouged craters in the stone, but the man “So what?” Boyer asked bluntly. “We gotta scram before didn’t fall. the cops get here.” He started to charge. “Right. Don’t worry Ros; I’m sure she’ll turn up some Another gunshot to the chest. One in the belly. A couple time.” Hasmed shook his head, then looked up at the table. thin slabs of stone fell off him, and as he lurched forward, “So… did she take her cut of the money with her? If not, I’m they could see the edges of the cracks grinding together, sure she’d want us to… uh, hold it for her.” churning raw and blowing dust, but still he moved. “But what was that thing, Hawv? What was it?” The bulletproof man was almost on them. “I don’ know, Ros. But we got to get outta here.” Boyer was taking slow, even steps backward—not enough “Whatever it is, it’s dead now,” Lee said. He was busily to spoil his aim as he fired into the stone man’s face, his neck. shoving the money back into its briefcase. “Fuggeddaboudit.” Its features were cratered off by the bullet’s impact, but it still “What the fuck?” Roscoe whimpered one more time, as came, gaining speed. the other two pulled him out the door. As its left leg crossed the threshold, Roscoe came in low with the back of a chair. He didn’t hit it—he tripped it. Gwynafra spent the night with the club’s new owner—a man “What the fuck!?” The metal chair back dented and called Sweet Pete, who frightened the other dancers because warped as the impact pulled it from Paum’s hands, but the they’d heard he had mob ties. Gwyn had taken one look at the creature crashed forward into the floor. woman on Pete’s arm—a woman with an obvious boob job and The truck had cracked it, and the gunshots had damaged brassy, dyed hair—and had felt confident that she could take it, and distance from Avitu had weakened it, but what him away. She’d just been direct. With the memories and shattered it was its own weight, slamming into the floor. One experience of Gustavus the pornographer, she’d had a wealth of ideas. 233 232 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES She’d felt it when her “brother” in Florida was destroyed, “Shit!” Thomas leaped out of his bed to the window and and she knew that was a setback, but her mistress Avitu didn’t stared out into the parking lot. “Yeah, I’m, I’m at my place.” consider it critical. Making creatures from the earth was not Now that he was more awake, it felt really weird to be talking easy, but with Pamela, Stuart and Brandon feeding her their with no one there. He felt an irrational urge to press his hand AND awe and fear, she would be strong enough to make another to his head, as if holding a phone. “What should I look for?” GREG One—a large, hairless black man. Two—my car. soon. And after them, her greater servants could be called forth from their deep slumber. But that would take a while. “That Explorer?” ANGEL I traded it in. I’m in an orange Miata now. Sweet Pete didn’t want her to leave, and he wasn’t used to having women contradict him, but she played that to “If I see the guy, what should I do?” Turn watery. You can’t be hurt in that form, or at least her advantage. People with power—or, at least, men with not easily. power—often found helplessness to be exciting and new. WINGS She gave him everything he wanted, except servility. She “No shit?” Hadn’t thought of that, huh? I’m pulling into your figured it would work until he learned her true nature. parking lot. Then they’d renegotiate. She stopped by the bagel shop as usual and made the long “I’ll buzz you in.” trek into the desert. This time would be different, though. “I think we’re safe,” she said several minutes later. They This time, she wouldn’t leave any prisoners. were talking face to face, sitting on his couch while the And this time, she’d have the High Priest with her. coffeemaker percolated. “I’ve got my guard up now. He just got the drop on me last time because I was distracted.” “With those guys from Jersey? What’s up with them, Thomas. anyhow?” “Huh?” “Don’t worry about it.” She glanced out the window Thomas! again, following his gaze. Tom Ramone sat up in bed, startled awake by a voice. Her “Was one of them… like you?” voice. For a moment he thought she was in the room with “A demon?” She gave him a little smile. “What do you him, but then she spoke again and it was in his head. think?” Tom, I need you to do me a favor. He shrugged. “I think so.” He peered out into the night. “What the hell is this?” “Which one?” It’s called an invocation, Thomas. I probably should “That Boyer guy.” have taught you about this before, huh? He didn’t see her look away from him. “I’m impressed by “You can just get in my head any time you want?” your sensitivity. But the demon was the guy with the scar.” Short answer, yes. Don’t worry though, I can’t spy on He looked back at her, made a rueful face and changed you while you’re beating off in the shower or anything. I the subject. only hear spoken responses after tuning you in. “So, how come you didn’t go to Levi or one of those other “Any other tricks you haven’t told me about?” guys?” Levi was the bookstore guy, the nerd looking for Dies Thomas, get with the program! Are you in your apart- Ignis. Angela sighed. ment? “I got so sick of those three jerks,” she said. “Do you know “Don’t you know?” what a succubus is?” No, I don’t! Tom, someone just tried to kill me, and if “Nope,” Thomas said, though that was a lie. Succubi— he’s still mobile and has half a brain, he might try to kill you. female sex demons—were prominently featured in many of Now do you want to play twenty questions, or do you want to the books on demons, often described in lurid detail. be safe? 235 234 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Well, that’s what they were looking for. That was the “Is he a… succubus… also?” deal. They get the sex they crave and, in return, they…” “The male form is ‘incubus.’ Like the rock band. Or you “They believe in you?” can call us the Lammasu, or the Defilers… but he’s different. “Yeah. And at first it didn’t seem like such a big deal. I He’s one of the Asharu.” AND mean, between us? It’s pretty much a piece of meat. But man, “What the hell is an ‘Asharu’?” GREG they were so damn annoying! All the time, calling me up, “The closest in English would be ‘scourge,’ I guess. wanting me to look like Jenna Jameson, wanting me to look They used to be guardian angels before. Now they’re… ANGEL like Angelina Jolie, wanting me to look like ‘that chick from they’re dull but regrettably necessary. Kind of like the The Scorpion King.’ Crap, if they’d asked for Helen of Troy designated drivers of the Unholy Host.” She paused. “That or, I don’t know, even Ingrid Bergman… They just really was a joke, Thomas.” bugged me.” “Uh… well, you know, if I laugh too hard I might stain the WINGS “Bugged? As in, past tense?” carpet.” “Mm hm. You know what it was? No respect. Now that He reached for the phone, but she waved it away. “Don’t I think about it, that’s what really cheesed me off. They need it. You can contact any demon if you know its name. If treated me like I was a twenty-four-hour pizza delivery you listen, you can learn his. Then, if you want, you’ll be able service, you know?” to invoke him.” “So what did you do?” “Why would I do that?” “Oh, I killed them.” She shrugged. “Well, he could probably tell you how to There was a brief silence. Thomas opened his mouth, break your pact with me. Though, I must say, if you do that then shut it, then got up for coffee. He brought milk and I’ll just get you thrown in jail for murder or something.” sugar for Sabriel. Thomas jumped back. She’d said the last sentence in a “Thanks.” perfect imitation of his voice. She gave a sad smile and “You didn’t really kill them, did you?” shrugged. “I said I’d be honest with you, remember?” Then “Hey, those clowns thought they’d driven a hard bargain, she leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. Her voice but they left out the most elementary clause—‘never harm took on a strange tone as she said, “Hasmed.” me.’ Sure, one of them had a safe word that would make me stop whatever I was doing to him—he had some weird sex stuff The gun got a thorough wipe-down and went in the to work out, you know how it is—but that wasn’t much of a ocean. After racking their brains to be sure they hadn’t left problem. I just killed him from outside earshot.” anything in Meyerhoff’s apartment, the men decided they Thomas swallowed. “You could do that to me, right? were safe enough and went to a bar to split a pitcher. They Couldn’t you?” were watching jai alai on the bar’s TV, and Paum had She nodded. calmed down enough to explain the game’s finer points to “How?” he whispered. Boyer, when Hasmed stood up abruptly. “Gotta make a “Well, you’ve agreed to give me power. Just like they did. call,” he said. But none of you put any limits on how much I could take The two men sat for a while, and the small talk trickled from you. If I take a lot, you get weak and messed up. If I take off. Then Paum said “So… do you have any fuckin’ clue what it all, you die.” was up with that thing?” “This is another head game, isn’t it?” Hasmed went to a payphone, put a coin in and mimed “I didn’t mean for it to be but, yeah, partially, I guess.” dialing, then said “Hello?” “Just reminding me that you’ll kill me if I cross you.” Hasmed. I’m so glad you’re all right. “Ugh, it’s always about you, isn’t it? Excuse me, but I’m “Yeah. Sure, ‘Angela.’ I bet my health and well being are, going to call up my buddy from Jersey.” like, your top priority right now.” 237 236 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND XIII STOLZE ASHES You think I set you up. “And now I think you’re gonna try to convince me you didn’t. chapter Good luck.” Instinctively, he made to hang up the phone. Wait! I didn’t set you up… completely. AND “Ah?” GREG I didn’t know that thing was coming. Honest. “But you thought there might be some trouble. From Avi—” ANGEL Don’t say it! thirteen “She may scare you, ‘Angie,’ but I’m of her house. I saw her fight, and I’m not intimidated.” You should be. Could you make something like that… WINGS thing? Hasmed sucked on his teeth and said, “Giving the sem- blance of life isn’t that hard.” Yes, but from thousands of miles away? Or maybe she made it locally and kept it moving for weeks while it tracked me down. “So she’s powerful now. Great. You’ve made her my A few days later, driving toward the local mob don’s enemy. Thanks a lot. Maybe I should just hand you over to house, Hasmed held his cell phone to his ear and said, her—sort of patch things up, keeping it all in the family?” “Vodantu.” Look, what do I have to do to make this up to you? What HASMED. WHAT NEWS, MY MINION? happened, anyway? “Daily, my power and influence grows.” He gritted his “Now you’re curious? Should’ve thought of that before teeth as a station wagon in front of him braked unexpectedly. you beat feet on us.” He honked his horn and briefly thought about how clunky Is everyone okay? I mean, little Roscoe and that other the formal speech of Hell was starting to feel in his mouth. fellow? HOW MANY THRALLS DO YOU COMMAND? “They can take care of themselves, which is more’n I’d say “Three, so far.” He thought about promising more soon, about you.” but decided that excuses would only make him look weak. I know you’re angry, but weren’t we a good team? As a AND YOU HAVE ACQUIRED MUCH MONEY? gesture of goodwill, hey—you can keep my chunk of the “Yes. I have stolen nearly fifty thousand dollars.” He money. “And just how would you keep me from doing that anyhow?” frowned, thinking just how badly screwed he’d gotten Let’s not get into threats. I know who your thralls are. fencing the diamonds. Still, he’d made part of it up betting “And I know the name of a powerful enemy who’d love against University of Miami. Their heavy-underdog rivals some advice about taking you down. Sounds like stalemate to had unexpectedly won, after U of M’s starting lineup me. I’m willing to wash my hands, walk away and write you off unexpectedly came down with mononucleosis. He’d had to as a minor pain in the ass. I bet that’s better than my other old get away from Dennis for that sort of heavy action, of colleague did.” course. “Someone has… explained the humans’ concept of What would it take for me to earn back your trust? money to you?” Hasmed rubbed a stubby finger over his stubbly chin. THE SAVIOR OF THE FALLING STARS IS HAVING DIFFICULTY “Two syllables of your True Name.” DUE TO THIS “MONEY.” CAN THE MANIPULATION OF MERE PHYSI- That shut her up for a long time. Then she said, I’ll have CAL TOKENS REALLY HAVE SO GREAT A POWER OVER MORTAL LIVES? to think about it. 239 238 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Indeed it does, my lord.” Two days ago, Hasmed had “I exist to serve you, Master.” His heart was pounding. bribed the director of a daycare center to let Tina in mid- This was bad. His master had tested him and backed down, term. It was a better place than the cheap, fly-by-night which meant he probably didn’t trust Hasmed anymore. “If arrangements Harvey had fudged together. it is sacrifice you crave, sacrifice you shall have.” AND GREG AND THERE IS NOTHING MAGICAL ABOUT THE TRANSACTION? SUPERB. ANYTHING ELSE? “No. Only the magic of greed and consensus.” Hasmed considered telling him about Sabriel and Avitu, ANGEL THEN I SHALL HAVE THE SAVIOR CONTACT YOU, THAT YOU but decided that until he had something to offer, there MIGHT SEND SOME OF YOUR MONEY TO HER. SHE IS IN SOME PLACE wasn’t much point. “Nothing of great importance.” CALLED “ARGENTINA.” VERY WELL. I LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR OFFERING. “If you give me her lesser name, I can make the arrange- WINGS ments myself.” Lance Mason grumbled and whined when his dad in- NO. SHE ALREADY KNOWS YOUR NAME. sisted on getting up early to go out to the desert, but his Hasmed winced. Still, Vodantu could ask for worse. Lots parents closed ranks against him. He thought he resented the worse. And as if the demon duke had read his mind… way they ganged up on him, but at some level, it made him I HAVE SEEN YOUR ACTIONS TOWARD YOUR THRALLS. YOU glad to see them agreeing. MIND THEM WITH METICULOUS CARE. “It looks like the surface of Mars,” Birdie said, looking “A well-tended tool is a reliable tool.” out across the dust. The rising sun gave long shadows for QUITE. BUT I AM CONCERNED THAT YOU MIGHT BE FALLING emphasis to every hill, every signpost, every scrubby shrub BACK INTO OLD HABITS. THE HABITS OF AN ANGEL PROTECTOR. and piece of roadside garbage. “I assure you, that’s quite absurd.” “Mars is red,” Lance said. EXCELLENT. I HAVE DECIDED THAT THE ONE YOU CALL “TINA” “A whole new world,” Teddy murmured. Birdie glanced WOULD BE A FITTING SACRIFICE TO MY GLORY. over at him. He sounded… odd. Off. Almost like he was “If you wish, my master,” Hasmed said, desperately trying drunk or sleepwalking or something. His eyes were bright and to keep his voice casual and light. “I fear she would be poor alert, though, and he leaned forward as he drove their rented tribute. Boyer, I think, would be more to your liking. Many Bronco down the road. fear him, and if he was slain in your name, they would fear you “Teddy… don’t you think you’re going awfully fast?” in turn.” “What are we going to hit? The road’s straight and there’s YOU SEEM RELUCTANT TO PART WITH THE GIRL. no one around for miles.” He eased off the accelerator a bit. “Of course I am. All manner of suspicion will fall on When he pulled off the road, Birdie asked him why. He her father—my mortal host—if she is killed. Even the Mafia said it looked like a good place. would be repelled by infanticide. And finally, the simple “We’re not the only ones,” Lance said, looking out his child bargained little for her faith, which is raw and pure. window. “See? There’s a bunch of tracks coming in and out.” I reap more trust from her than from both my other pawns In fact, it was only one set of tracks, going back and forth combined.” every day. Gwynafra’s tracks. The other tracks—from Sabriel I SEE. and her prisoners, and from others even earlier—had sank “But if it is the girl you crave, you shall have her. All I ask under the blown sand, but they had no way of knowing that. is that you give me enough time to find a replacement.” “So there must be something to see,” Teddy said brightly. HER OR ANOTHER, IT MATTERS NOT. PERHAPS YOU ARE When they pulled up next to a sturdy truck, he put the car RIGHT. PERHAPS I SHOULD NOT ASK YOU TO PART WITH A VASSAL. in park. 241 240 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Ted? Do you know whose truck that is? Or whose A piece of the branch came off in his hand, forming a property we’re on?” needle-sharp wand, thinner than a pencil, about seven “It’s a surprise,” Teddy replied. “C’mon, get your packs. inches long. Wait ’til you see this!” Then he disappeared. AND GREG His enthusiasm pulled them on. The desert was passing through that short median period between the night’s icy Jennifer was mildly surprised when someone other than ANGEL chill and the day’s remorseless heat, so the exertion of the mud woman appeared. It was weird to think she’d gotten climbing with tents and packs was fairly pleasant. Teddy was used to her eerie prison, but she was. She must have if she’d out ahead of them, impatient, and they saw him crest a low gotten so mind-wrenchingly bored with it. Nothing ever rise and stand stock still. Everything in his posture bespoke changed in the cloud walls. Nothing but her, getting more WINGS awe, so Birdie and Lance were somewhat puzzled when they desperate and lost and weak. And more sick of eating nothing reached him. but bagels. “Wow,” Lance said, with the sarcasm only a teen can The man who appeared was chubby, maybe in his late muster. “It’s a tree. My oh my.” forties. He had male pattern baldness, a tidy moustache, Birdie frowned, glancing from the tree to her husband’s close-shaved stubble on his double chin. He was wearing awestruck face. blue jeans that hadn’t seen much wear, well-used Redwing “Just like… it’s just like…” he whispered. boots, an LL Bean windbreaker. “Just like what?” Birdie asked, but she had an awful “Hi,” he said. “Are you okay?” suspicion. Jennifer just blinked. Teddy dropped his pack to the gritty sand and started down “Am I okay? Do you have any idea where the hell I am? the gentle slope in the ungainly trot of a forty-plus man. Where we are?” “What the hell?” Lance said. He looked around. “The tree explained it to me,” he said “Language,” Birdie replied, on autopilot. “I think we’re softly. “She took me to another place first… or maybe camping here.” another time. Or something outside time. She explained a “Here? But there isn’t any water or anything?” lot of things.” He shook his head. “I should be amazed by all “All will be provided.” this but… it’s like I’ve been ready for it all my life.” Both of them turned and stared at the beautiful woman “Who are you?” who had just appeared on the slope, walking toward them. If “I’m Teddy Mason. What’s your name?” either had bothered to look, they’d have noticed that her “Jennifer.” She wanted to resist, but he was just so real. footprints started where they’d first seen her. But they were After Gwynafra, it was hard to stay wary of someone who both transfixed by her face, hair, body… Lance was getting seemed so completely ordinary and genuine. He was just uncomfortable, and Birdie was becoming self-conscious. some guy. It was wonderful. “I’m Gwynafra Doakes,” the apparition said. “I’m really sorry you’ve been trapped here.” Down the slope, Teddy had reached the tree, and he “Can you do something about it?” reached out to touch a branch with a trembling hand. He sighed. “It’s complicated.” He closed his eyes. “Complicated? No shit, Sherlock! I’m being held captive “Yes,” he said. “Yes.” in the sky by a demon that ate my ex-boyfriend’s brain. Yeah. There was a moment of silence, and a grave look It’s pretty darn complicated all right.” clouded his features. Then, with somber voice, he said, “I’m sorry about your boyfriend, too. Ex-boyfriend. Avitu… “Yes. Forever.” you have to understand the scale on which she operates. An 243 242 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES individual life… it’s easy for her to forget what that means. a million stars. And I started to play. And I played everything. People can be like grains of sand in the desert, only her desert All the people who were with us… and most of them, now is eternity.” they’re dead… and I, it was like I was making the landscape “Are you apologizing for her?” with my song, or like the sky was singing through me. That AND GREG “I wouldn’t dare.” was what I’ve always wanted, forever. For a moment, I was totally, perfectly me. Or I was always, you know, who I’d “What is she to you?” ANGEL wanted to be. And now this creature wants to cut that off? “She’s my goddess,” he said simply. “It turns out my family served her since… well, for a long time. It’s funny. I When I’ve just found it? How can I?” didn’t even know I had… you know, native ancestors. Just Teddy nodded his head. “You’re an artist?” goes to show.” “A musician.” WINGS They were quiet for a moment. “That’s who you really are?” “She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?” Jennifer asked. Something about the way he asked it—not forced or Teddy sighed. “It doesn’t have to be that way.” dramatic, but somehow free of all the baggage most people “No, I can just get lobotomized instead. Or, or I can give had, when they asked about art or music or creativity. It made in and help her out, after she—” her really think instead of just react. Teddy held up a hand. “I’m not going to ask you to pledge “Yes.” yourself to her,” he said. “And what does that mean?” “It means that I can… that I try to touch the truth.” “No?” “I don’t want… I think it should be voluntary. I think that “But you’ve seen the truth. You’ve seen Avitu.” when people understand what Avitu really is, what she really “I don’t trust her. She could lie about… about every- offers—” thing. Like that horrible creature Gwynafra. It looks like a “You think people will line up to lose their souls?” woman, but that’s a lie.” “Not their souls, their pain!” He leaned forward. “Don’t “All right, but you’ve seen the truth that Avitu is. That she you understand how much I envy you?” exists.” “What?” “Oh yes.” “I am Avitu’s high priest. I was born to oversee her “Do you think you can hide that?” sacrifices. Only they’re not really sacrifices at all. It’s a healing. Jennifer was silent. A blessing. What she offers you is perfect absolution.” “If we just let you go, do you think you can put that away?” “Or perfect ignorance!” Her head slumped forward on her shoulders. “Perfect freedom from uncertainty and misery and self- “I’m never going to be free of her, am I?” she whispered. loathing. I wish I could have that! But because of how I serve, “I’ll always be afraid. I’ll always know she could kill me, or take I never can. I must always bear the curse. You have the chance me back, or… or…” Tears started to fall. “I’ll always know, to be free. I have to stay outside the door, holding it open. won’t I?” You can walk through it, yet you refuse!” “There’s one way out,” Teddy said. “I will not give up my self. That’s not freedom.” Jenni- fer felt tears coming and she bit them back. She could still When Teddy returned, his wife had many questions, but hear the sob hidden in her voice though, and she knew he ignored them to go attend to the short line of the wretched Teddy could too. that Gwynafra had brought out for him. Drunks, drug “The night I came out here,” she said, “I had a moment. addicts, runaways… people with no hope, other than the One perfect moment. We were in the desert, and there were 245 244 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND XIV STOLZE ASHES hope of somehow dulling the pains of the past, or of escaping their fears of the future for a while. chapter Lance’s only question was, “Dad? What’s that gray stuff on that stick you’re holding?” But Teddy didn’t answer AND GREG that, either. ANGEL fourteen WINGS Johnny Bronco’s guards made Mr. Fortune park a long way back from the house. Trudging through the snow toward it, Hasmed felt something. It wasn’t something he’d felt before. It was power, but not a familiar type. Nothing from the old days. Nothing like Sabriel. The strange perception caught him in mid-stride, and he slowed, turning aimlessly in the capo’s lengthy driveway. His eyes swept back and forth before settling. He walked under a graceful weeping willow and looked up at one of the branches. Glancing right and left—Johnny had a lot of guards around, and Hasmed didn’t want to look weird hanging out under the tree—he quietly spoke a few words in the first tongue. The bat hanging from a branch said nothing. Frowning, Hasmed picked up a short stick and tossed it at the creature. It wasn’t really a bat, of course. He’d known that, so he wasn’t terribly surprised when it dropped and changed form, landing in front of him as a man. He was big, with lard-pale skin. He had on coveralls, work boots and a mesh-back seed- corn cap. He wore no coat. “Don’t know who you are,” the stranger hissed, “but you just made a bad mistake.” He had slitted eyes like a cat, and his teeth were unnaturally long and sharp. Hasmed just stared, curious and a bit confounded. “Caine?” he asked at last. 247 246 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES That stopped the man-bat cold. “What do you know about “Kindred” who were always looking into that kind of stuff—and Cainites?” he asked. “Are you…?” who wouldn’t be too picky about where the story originated. “So it sounds like there was a long, long time between when “Am I what?” “You know. Kindred.” God cursed Caine and when Caine got around to building the AND “Kindred to who? To Caine? He didn’t have any kids.” But first city,” the vampire said. GREG the more he examined the creature before him, the more “Actually, Michael cursed Caine. I mean, it was the power amazed Hasmed became. “Shit, did Caine find some way to of the One Above, but Michael carried the actual message. The ANGEL pass the buck? Did he figure out how to… to share the wrath of infinite cannot touch the finite in a limited fashion.” Almighty God?” “Huh?” “How is it you know about Caine, but you don’t know about “Michael, not God. Also, there were cities before that, too.” Kindred?” “Damn. No one’s probably going to believe me.” WINGS “Let’s just say I’ve been out of action for a long time. What “Well, no one would believe me if I told Bronco that a the hell is a Kindred?” vampire got sent to whack him out. You mind telling me who The man drew himself up to full height and gave Hasmed sent you now?” That had been the deal—they were trading his best evil-eye stare. “We’re vampires,” he said. questions and answers. “Well I’ll be dipped in dog shit. I thought you guys were “Sure, I guess,” the Cainite replied. “Fuck, it’s not like it’s myths!” a big supernatural secret… like all this Caine stuff.” He gave “We’re real. What the hell are you?” Hasmed another cockeyed, cat-slit look over his shades. “Like the existence of fuckin’ demons.” Hasmed pulled down his shades and let a little of himself show through his own mangled eye. “Funny you should use “So… the name?” that phrase.” “Rico Pudoto.” “What? I’m supposed to think you’re a no-joke demon?” “Rico from Atlantic City? Huh.” Hasmed scratched his “Exactly.” chin. “Any way I can get proof? It would really help me out.” “Whatever.” The creature’s skepticism was broadly apparent. The waitress came by to offer coffee refills, and if the sight “Believe what you want. It’s a funny world.” of two men wearing sunglasses at 10:00 PM surprised her, she For a moment, both creatures stared, sizing one another up. said nothing about it. “You here working for Bronco?” Hasmed asked. “I’m here to kill Bronco.” Sal Macellaio was permitted to park up near Johnny’s “Then we’ve got a problem.” house. As he pulled in, he could see Steel Pete Petrucci’s BMW “Ah.” already there. Again, for a few moments they just stared. Things were starting to bubble and cook. No blood had “Fuck it,” the vampire finally said. “I don’t care if you’re a been shed—at least, not in public—but there was a lot of demon or just a crazy Kindred or the motherfucking Tooth posturing going on. Inside Johnny Bronco’s mob, people Fairy. Whatever you are, you ain’t in the contract, and I’m not were shifting in place to take charge if he died—things didn’t throwing down with you over some phlegmy mortal gang boss.” look good for the old boy. Outside, a couple other syndicates “We should go somewhere and talk.” were giving Bronco’s machine appraising glances—deciding They were in a diner half an hour later, though the vampire if it was weak enough to seize and whether it would be worth just got coffee and left it untouched. He did seem dispropor- the trouble. tionately unnerved when he saw Hasmed eating, though. People from New York, from Boston, from Atlantic City, They didn’t exchange names, just questions. The vampire even Vegas and Chicago—they all seemed to be “visiting was curious about Caine and the First Days. Skeptical, but still friends” or “passing through town” or, most ominously, “just curious, and Hasmed told him a few things. The vampire checking in.” didn’t know much about vampire history, but he knew other 249 248 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES The wise money was on Steel Pete. Sal was a dark horse— “Here, and he says he has news.” unless he turned bitch for some other gang and brought his “It’s probably about the fuckin’ Cubs again,” Sal said. crew along. Sal’s smarts made the outsiders wary, and Steel Cohn shrugged and left with the young gangster. Pete’s men were numerous and hardcore. But no one was Pete and Sal glared at one another. AND sure whether the two big crews would work together. It didn’t “C’mere. Both of you.” GREG seem likely. They turned. When Sal was shown into Johnny Bronco’s bedroom, he Johnny Bronco’s voice was hoarse and thin, but they still ANGEL heard Petrucci’s voice from within. respected it instinctively. They drew near. “…tellin’ ya, it’s time to open the books. The family’s gotta “You both… right about recruiting. We need… new blood, look strong, gotta be strong, now more’n ever.” new soldati.” “Fuggeddaboudit. Who’s gonna want in now, with the The two crew captains exchanged looks of grudging respect. WINGS wolves and jackals waiting at the door?” That was John Cohn, “You two… you gotta quit fucking around.” Johnny Bronco’s consigliere. “You naming a successor?” Steel Pete asked quietly. “There’s always guys,” Sal said, striding in. “And now you “I’ll do that when I’m good and goddamn ready!” get the hungry and the dumb. Hungry guys who know shit’s Bronco’s voice got stronger, and his pale face showed a trace coming down and who see it as a chance to prove themselves. of blood. “You so eager, Petey? You wanna shit in my toilet, And the dumb guys who don’t know shit’s coming down. They maybe fuck my wife while you’re at it? You goddamn might be even more useful.” vulture. I ain’t dead yet. Neither are you. Neither is the family.” He paused to cough. “But if you two shitheads fight Steel Pete was momentarily thrown by Sal’s endorsement of his idea. “You got anyone you’d prop up for membership?” each other, there won’t be a family left to win. You’ll just Sal shrugged. “I got a short list. You could do worse than hand it over to Giancana or the Bostonians or those cunts Brennan,” he said. from Chicago. You both know this!” “The goddamn Scotsman? You’re crazy.” “No one’s done anything yet,” Pete muttered. He was “He’s been connected for decades now. If you could catch looking down at his shoes like a chastised teenage son. Wop like a cold, he’d have it ten times over.” “Signore?” It was Cohn’s voice, from the doorway. “I think “Next you’re gonna propose Harvey Ciullo,” Cohn said. you maybe ought to hear this.” “Now that’s crazy,” Sal said. Sal turned with a scowl, and Pete with a smirk. Harvey “Is it?” Pete asked. “I hear he grabbed a pretty fat load of Ciullo stood behind Cohn. rocks. I hear he pulled some kind of sweet robbery down in “What is it?” Johnny said. Florida too. In fact, I heard your old pal Mike Diamond hasn’t “Pudoto’s hired a contractor,” Hasmed replied. “Just how the fuck would you know that?” Sal asked. been seen since he went to give Ciullo a good talking to.” “Harvey? Fuggeddaboudit. We’re wasting our time just Hasmed produced a manila envelope. Inside were surveil- talkin’ about him. He’s worthless.” lance photos of Johnny, notes about his schedule and habits, “So worthless you flew his ass out to LA to look in on your images of his bodyguards, a copied blueprint of his house with own flesh an’ blood?” notes about where the guards were stationed. Sal glared. Someone had a big mouth. Steel Pete had no “I got this from the zip,” he said. “If we move fast, we can reason to give two shits about Harvey Ciullo… unless someone catch him reporting to one of Pudoto’s captains tonight. All he had tipped him that Sal was keeping tabs. asks is that we leave him out of it, or say we killed him.” A young hulk in a dark suit poked his head in the door and “He’s gonna sell out Pudoto for nothin’?” Cohn asked spoke, briefly and respectfully to John Cohn. Cohn raised an skeptically. eyebrow. “Speak of the devil,” he said. “Not nothin’. He decided it was… healthier to help us “What. Ciullo’s here?” Sal acted annoyed, but inside there out.” was just a touch of fear. 251 250 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Johnny Bronco had made up his mind. “Cohn, get Rock In that short, one-sided fight, Harvey Ciullo had earned and his people. Harvey here is gonna take ’em to this meet and his way into the Vuoto Family, Johnny Bronco’s mob. He was settle things.” As the consigliere nodded and left, Johnny said, going to become an insider, protected, bound by Mafia law. “This plays out like you say, Ciullo, and you’re gonna be a He was going to get made. AND friend of ours, capisce? I’ll set you up.” He put on his best suit, kissed Tina goodbye and drove off GREG Harvey’s ravaged face creased in a homely smile. “You toward the Mac. That was where they were going to do it, in the won’t regret this, sir.” He gave a peculiar kind of sigh, and bar’s basement. ANGEL Johnny Bronco seemed to sit up straighter in bed, seemed Most of Sal’s crew was there when he arrived. Hamish momentarily less sick, less dying. Steel Pete didn’t notice, but Brennan treated him to a single-malt with a beer back and Sal Macellaio did. Dennis Porter looked on with a mix of envy and confusion. “I’ll stand up for you, Harv,” Sal said. “You can be in my crew.” Hasmed recognized Vietnam Ham’s pals from his first visit, WINGS As the two men locked eyes, each wordlessly knew the real months ago—the syphilitic and the guy he’d knocked down the meaning behind Sal’s sudden, generous offer. Each gave the stairs. They both seemed happy to let bygones be, and they other a slow nod. welcomed him to the family with genuine enthusiasm. The guys who’d been with Macellaio at the steel mill were more reserved, but they still gave him their respect. A few days later, Betsy Smith got up with bad menstrual At her office, Betsy drank the next-to-last beer in her six- cramps and decided that a Bloody Mary was just the eye-opener pack and then decided to have the last one too. Just tidying up, she needed. It was a Saturday, and she was scheduled to work the really. She had ten more minutes on the clock before she was afternoon shift. She liked working weekends because she could scheduled to punch out, and she was scrupulous about never drink on the job with much less chance of getting caught. Of quitting early. course, she told herself that it was because she could catch up on Tina was outside, playing with three older kids while a lot of paperwork without interruption. Donna Wentz watched them from the window. She was on the It was a nice day, though cold. Hasmed took Tina to see a phone with her sister, getting the latest dirt about her brother- G-rated movie. She wanted to see a PG-13 one, but he told in-law’s ex-wife’s kid. Donna didn’t really notice when the her no way. He’d had some difficulty lining up a sitter for snowball fight became kind of one-sided, with her three sons her—Helena had met some guy and suddenly had better ganging up on Tina. Tina had been yelling a lot all evening, things to do than watch her niece on a Saturday night. But after all. Hasmed had found a woman in his building, Donna Wentz. Johnny Bronco arrived at the bar, and everyone com- She had three kids of her own and was willing to look after mented on how much better he seemed. They weren’t Tina for a few extra bucks. exaggerating, either. Since he’d offered to put Harvey in the The thing with Pudoto’s henchman had gone off velvety books, his health had improved measurably. smooth. The meet was in a graveyard—kind of weird, unless Sal was the only one who made that connection. (like Hasmed) you knew one of the principals was a frickin’ Betsy walked, deliberately, to her car, brushed off the slush vampire. Rock’s men moved quiet for such big guys, it was and started driving home. eleven on three, and the guys from Atlantic City didn’t have a A barrage of snowballs hit Tina, hard. She started to cry. chance to see it coming. Rock’s crew was surprised that the She was frightened and alone, and she said the Secret Word. paleface hitman managed to get away. Only Hasmed saw him A couple miles away, Hasmed excused himself to go to the duck behind a gravestone and never come out again. bathroom, prompting several coarse jokes. Rock himself had given Hasmed a 9mm piece for the He was minutes away from achieving a great step toward his job, and he’d carried it ever since. He kept it at the office, goal, toward membership in a mob that he was confident he of course. No way was he having a gun in the apartment with could make his own. Tina around. 253 252 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES But he heard Tina’s voice, and when he asked her what was Behind the wheel, Betsy heard, and if she’d been sober, she wrong, she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t answer. He frowned and might have reacted in time, might have steered away or slammed concentrated and visualized what was happening around her. on the brakes. But she couldn’t quite get her thoughts and At first he was relieved to see that it was just some older kids reactions to mesh. AND picking on her. Little bastards, he’d fix them later—but she And then a black wind swept across the street and suddenly GREG wasn’t in danger. He didn’t have to choose, didn’t have to blow Donna saw Harvey Ciullo and, holy shit, she’d never have his chance… thought the old fat guy could move so fast, like lightning, his ANGEL Only he did. coat flapping behind him (like wings?), going into a flat dive, Dumb luck, she’d called him because of false peril, when knocking Tina over… she couldn’t see the real danger that was sliding down the street Even that wasn’t enough. toward her, the street she’d run into fleeing the snowballs. And With the crystal clarity of an angel’s mind, Hasmed knew it WINGS that car wasn’t slowing down, not at all. wasn’t enough. He’d moved her away from the center of the As he yanked the bathroom window open, Hasmed didn’t grille, but she’d still get hit, that bitch behind the wheel wasn’t think about what he was throwing away. He didn’t think about even slowing down. failure. He didn’t think about Johnny Bronco’s anger, or that A human would have felt a wash of despair. That sensation of Vodantu, his duke. All he thought about was how to do what would slow a human’s hand by half a second. Not much, but it he must. would mean the difference between a near miss and getting He did not feel conflicted. He did not feel regret. He did sucked under a car’s tires. not feel anger. Hasmed wasn’t human. He didn’t hesitate. In an instant, He felt a threat to Tina, and that was all. the gun was in his hand, and he shot out Betsy Smith’s driver- As he pushed his way from the bathroom into the alley, his side tire. The car sagged and turned and started to fishtail, and wings were already spreading forth. Another burst of effort, as the spent cartridge from the first bullet hit the ground, he and his glorious, hideous, inhuman form was cloaked in fired twice more. Two other tires flattened, slowing the car. darkness and apathy. No human must see him and none would. Its dirty plastic doors actually slid along his outstretched He lunged into the air and knew he was moving too slow. He arm, the back flat tire was close enough that it pushed cold dirty needed more power, more speed, and he reached deep for it. slush into his pants leg. Then it was past him, skidding to a stop Miles away, a glass slipped from Roscoe Paum’s hand and at last. smashed on a bar-room floor. He gasped and clutched his “Oh God! Oh my God! Oh Jesus!” Betsy Smith rushed chest, unable to breathe. around her car, slipped and sprawled across the trunk and Hasmed moved faster. found herself staring down the barrel of a smoking pistol. In the next state over, in New York City, Lee Boyer Junior The man with the gun had a hideous scar, and he stared at was visiting someone who catered to very specific tastes. In the her with an eye of blood. Hasmed didn’t fire the gun, though. middle of everything his suckling lost power as the air was He reached out with his power and inhaled sharply. pulled out of him. He nearly blacked out as he tumbled from Betsy Smith never felt the urge to drink again. the teat, trying to inhale but feeling his breath stolen… Hasmed’s speed increased yet again. Miles away at the Mac, Johnny Bronco needed an oxygen Tina looked up and saw the car, and she screamed. If she’d mask to keep breathing. He was enraged. run, she might have made it on her own, but she froze. She “The disrespect,” he kept saying. “The disrespect!” couldn’t do anything but shriek. Sal Macellaio looked down at his finger nails, got off his bar The change in tone of Tina’s cries prompted Donna to stool and made a soft suggestion to his boss. Johnny looked at look down, but there was no help there, nothing she could him and nodded, sharply. do except gasp and gaze and lose every thought in a blank “Ice him,” he said. “Make it hurt.” page of horror. Sal smiled. 255 254 GREG S GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND XV STOLZE ASHES ASHES chapter PART AND AND GREG ANGEL ANGEL fifteen 3 WINGS WINGS “Honey,” Hasmed said, “Believe me, we have to move fast. Take just your favorite stuff. Right now!” Tina seemed kind of shell-shocked, and once again, Hasmed felt that uneasy human sensation when emotions mixed. This time it was fear and relief. Relief because Tina wasn’t arguing, wasn’t complaining, was just wordlessly packing—mostly her toys—and accepting that they needed to leave their apartment right away. Fear because he was wor- ried about her emotions—worried that it would scar her to be wrenched away from her new school, uprooted from yet another home, torn away from Helena. He was also worried that they’d get caught, of course. He’d tried to keep her secret, tried to make sure that no one knew he even had a daughter—but had he succeeded? More importantly, had Harvey succeeded before Hasmed possessed him? Sal tried to keep his kid secret, Hasmed thought, clump- ing into his own bedroom. Look how good he did. ’Course, he didn’t know he was hiding from a demon. He threw open a suitcase and filled it with pants, shirts, underwear and socks. Most important was a white plastic VCR tape case, hand-labeled “The Hunt for Red Octo- ber.” It did not contain a tape of The Hunt for Red October. It contained his store of loose cash, along with two of the clearer, larger diamonds. He’d held them back, 257 256 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “You said you wouldn’t! You said! You promised!” planning to fence them later if he could get better terms. (He’d told himself that he’d cut Paum in for his share at that “I said I’d protect you. To do that, I have to stay back for hypothetical future date.) a while and make sure we aren’t followed. But I’m going to Thinking of Paum, he coughed to clear his throat, put leave you with someone named Roscoe, he’s a good friend AND GREG on his Zoth of the Hated Lash voice and said “ROSCOE PAUM. of daddy’s, okay? Roscoe will take care of you. It’s all going ATTEND YOUR MASTER!” to be all right.” ANGEL It was the first time he’d invoked the boxer, and there She was crying as they pulled up at Bond Street. Roscoe was some initial confusion as he explained the nature of the was sitting on a bus bench, and he hopped up and came to communication. the corner as the car rolled to a stop. “WHATSOEVER YOU ARE DOING, CEASE!” he commanded. “Get in,” Hasmed said. WINGS “YOUR ‘FRIEND’ AND MY HOST, HARVEY CIULLO, IS IN GRAVE “Hey, kiddo,” Roscoe said to Tina. She paused for a DANGER. YOU MUST COME TO HIM AT ONCE! HE WILL MEET YOU moment, then continued her weeping. AT THE CORNER OF BOND AND LOCUST IN TWENTY MINUTES. “Whose little girl?” COME ALONE.” “Mine.” Then he broke off communication and checked on “Yours?” They pulled away from the curb. Tina. She was crying. “She’s my daughter, yeah. Mazel Tov for me, a’right?” “It’s okay kitten,” he said. “It’s okay.” “Jeez, Hawv, I had no idea.” “I’m gonna miss my dollies, an’ I can’t take ’em all!” She “No one knew. You’re the first.” pronounced “going” as “doeing” and “can’t” as “dan’t.” “What’s going on?” “Shh, it’s all right, we’ll get you some new ones.” “Trouble. Bad trouble.” “But these are mine!” she cried, anguished. “The diamonds? Did the cops make us or somethin’?” “Okay tell you what, hon. If they won’t fit in a suitcase, “Worse. Vuoto’s mob.” “What!? I told you not to go to them for the fence.” we’ll put them in garbage bags, not because they’re garbage, but just so we can carry them, all right? We’ll carry them “It’ll be okay. I just need you to go to Atlantic City for down to the car like that, and we’ll put your clothes around a while. Take Tina, take care of her. I’ll be along soon.” them so they won’t get banged up in the back seat. Okay?” “Hawv, you’re talkin’ crazy talk. I can’t just up and run—” She still looked downcast and scared but she agreed. She “Got a piece?” pronounced it “Dokay.” “Huh? No.” “You have to be a brave little girl, Tina. There’s bad “Here.” He gave him the 9mm he’d gotten from Rock. trouble, but I will protect you. I promised, remember? I’ll “It’s got five bullets left, so you might wanna get some be with you and protect you.” more.” Suddenly, she flung herself on him and hugged him “What… what’s going…?” with all her strength. He made a few attempts to get her off, “Look, have I steered you wrong yet? Have I? No, not since I come back. So just trust me, okay Paum?” They then simply picked her up. The hours and weeks in the gym paid off—she was a lot easier to lift. braked for a red light, and Hasmed turned a desperate He got her to let go when he got the bags, and he piled glance to his passenger. “Roscoe, you are my only hope with enough of her clothing and possessions into them. Hauling this. If you don’t do this, I’m dead. I’m dead, and my little the stuff was going to be a bitch—they’d just have to take two girl dies too. I’m not kidding, okay?” trips down the staircase. There was a pause. When the light turned green, Hasmed “I have some more bad news, sweetpea,” he said as he turned right. drove her toward Locust Street. “I’m going to have to leave you for a little while.” 259 258 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Okay. Atlantic City. Sure. When you gonna come forward, stun her and then slit her throat, stealing the knife down?” she wouldn’t sell to him… and then he just had to laugh. Here I am, he thought, An angel or a demon or some- “Soon.” thing, and I’m thinking about kacking this bitch over a “Where should I stay?” AND GREG goddamn box-cutter. “Wherever.” “Then how you gonna find me?” He dropped it on the counter and said “Thanks for ANGEL “I’ll find you.” nothin’, cunt.” On his way back to the office, he picked up the broken neck of a glass bottle. When he reached his office door, he realized that the key was still on his key chain, in his Hasmed gave Ros all the money from his wallet and car, on the road to Atlantic City. regretted it as his thrall drove away. He should have at least WINGS Shaking his head, he sat in the stairwell, peeking through saved back enough to buy a few little things—some sort of a cracked-open door. He didn’t have long to wait. weapon, for one. He was drained and exhausted, physically He recognized one of the two men who came off the and spiritually. He’d had to wrestle the world, beat it into elevator—he’d been with Macellaio at the steel mill. The submission to save Tina, and it had taken a lot out of him. other was younger and twitchier, some steroided high He wouldn’t be doing anything terrible or magnificent school dropout in a funeral suit from Sears. He kept until he had a chance to recover—or unless he was willing to putting his hand under his lapel, like he was scratching sicken and rob his believers still further. his ribs. Roscoe had dropped him in front of the bodega near “Knock it off, AC,” the older man said. “You look like his office, the same place he’d sent Lee Boyer to get fuckin’ Napoleon.” candles. Entering, he gave the woman behind the counter “Huh?” a smile that was supposed to be charming. She immedi- “With your hand in your jacket. Christ, don’ be such ately went on guard. a moron.” “Hey, uh, Miss,” he started. “I really need to get this “Don’ call me a moron!” box opened up at my office. The guy who sent it he’s…” “Then don’ act moronic.” He looked up and down Hasmed made a tsk sound, twitched his shoulders, rolled the corridor and squinted at the stairwell door, but there his eyes. “He put on, like, fi’ty layers of tape, an’ I can’t get was nothing to see. Hasmed had pushed reality just a through it.” He picked up a utility knife from a display box little more. and said “I need one of these, but I left my wallet in my In New York, Boyer felt weak and breathless again, but other pants. You guys know me, right? I’m right up the not as bad. This was just as well. When he’d collapsed, the street, could you maybe—” lactating hooker had tried to roll him. Once he recovered, “No credit,” she said. he’d started to pistol-whip her. The second bout of weak- “Look, it’s, what, it’s a dollar seventy for this, I’m not ness probably saved her life, if not her face. gonna rip you off for that.” Satisfied that no one was looking, the mobster from the “No credit.” steel mill extracted a set of lock picks from a plastic case and He felt a brief flash of anger but pushed it down. went to work. “How’bout this: I leave you my watch as an assurance, “Why don’ we just kick it in?” AC asked. a’right? It’s no Rolex, but it’s worth more’n a buck seventy.” “Shut up.” He shook his head at the lock. “Cheap piece “Does this look like a pawn shop?” of shit,” he said as it opened. He stood back from the door He felt the wrath flaring up again, and he considered and gestured for AC to enter. “Quietly, now, though it’s just killing her. Her hands were on the counter. He was probably way too fuckin’ late.” pretty confident that he could grab her hair, yank her 261 260 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES AC pulled his gun and boldly walked in. The other man “Sure, it’s crazy. I’m crazy, we’re all crazy. You’re crazy rolled his eyes and went along, empty handed. Hasmed if you think anything else. How else did I kill Mikey Dia- followed close behind, stepping lively to get through before mond, huh? How else did I go from being nobody to getting made in less’n four months? How else did I just appear they closed the door. AND GREG “It’s empty,” AC reported, coming back from the office behind your buddy here without neither of you seeing?” into the room with the table. He was screwing a silencer The man was shaking his head, but Hasmed grinned as ANGEL he felt it. The man did believe, sweet and pure and uncom- onto the end of his revolver. “So we wait,” the older gangster said, drawing a weapon plicated fear belief, and it was all the demon needed to show and doing the same. “And for Christsakes be quiet. We want his true face. him to come in without knowing we’re here, all right?” The mobster didn’t waste time screaming, he just WINGS “I know, I know. I ain’t stupid.” fired. The silenced gunshot, no louder than a clap, was Hasmed had decided that AC was, by far, more likely to drowned out as AC shouted. The bullet slammed through do something dumb and unpredictable, so that was the man him and into Hasmed, and AC pulled his own trigger. he crept up behind. He took a deep breath—no spirit, just Then with a sweep of wings and a movement like a hail- the body’s preparation for action—then looped his arm storm, both guns were in Hasmed’s hands and both men over the young man’s shoulder, digging the points of glass were bleeding on the floor. Crap, I barely had to do anything, the demon thought, into his throat as he dropped his disguise. “Gimme your gun,” he hissed. almost giddy, but now was no time to lose control. Not yet. “Don’t do it!” the other man cried, his own weapon Awkwardly, he put both silenced weapons in one hand, rising in an instant. freeing the other to stuff a tie into AC’s mouth, smothering “Drop it, or I kill your pal!” Hasmed said. He didn’t the boy’s screams. The other mobster wasn’t a shouter. yell—he didn’t want any attention, and neither did the He’d taken his hit through the lung and couldn’t get breath mobsters. to shriek. “Actually, I can probably shoot you right through him.” “You believe now, don’t you? Yes, you do. That’s good. “You FUCKER!” AC bellowed and pointed his gun at It’s good to die believing.” He didn’t bother with claws or his associate. weapon. He pinched the man’s Adam’s apple and squeezed Hasmed started to chuckle. “Quite the standoff, ain’t it?” hard. That did it. The man gasped and twitched for several “Give it up, Ciullo. You jab him, and I’ll blow you away, seconds more before stilling. Hasmed had enough time to you know this. Or he’ll pull his head out his ass and point wonder if it was the throat or the gunshot that really finished that gun at you instead of me. AC’s too smart to hand his him off, though it probably didn’t matter. gun to an unarmed asswipe like you.” He turned to AC. The boy was still wailing, but it was “But what if I’m not afraid of gunshots? I mean, it’s not muffled through the tie. He’d been gut-shot, and while he like I never been shot before. I got better.” might have wanted to pull the makeshift gag from his “You’re friggin’ crazy then.” mouth, he didn’t seem able to move his hands away from the “Am I? Or am I something worse than crazy?” Hasmed wound. tilted his head down and let his bloody eye peep over the top “You’re unlucky,” Hasmed said. “That other guy died of his sunglasses. “Do you believe in the devil?” for me, and that was quick. You’re going to have to die for “Shit no.” Vodantu my master, and it’s going to take a while longer.” “Are you sure? ’Cause you didn’ seem so sure at the steel He frowned, then stomped hard on AC’s kneecap. “Don’t mill, remember that? You had a gun on me then, too.” go nowhere,” he said, and went into the back office for a roll “Crazy…” of packing tape. 263 262 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Did you like the ponies?” Roscoe asked. “Tell me a story?” “Yeah,” Tina said without much spirit. “Uh… a’right. You, uh, you know the Three Little Pigs?” “Good, yeah. They ran fast, huh?” He told her the story of the Three Little Pigs. Eventu- “Uh huh.” ally, she got into one of the room’s two beds. AND GREG “And supper was good?” “Daddy’s coming back, right?” “Uh huh.” “I told you he was.” ANGEL “That’s a pretty cool gadget you got from that, uh, “Is he going to die?” Happy Meal there,” he said. “What? Christ, Tina! I mean… I mean no, sweetie, no. They were back at a motel, and Roscoe felt incredibly Your dad ain’t gonna die.” uncomfortable. He had almost no experience with chil- “My mommy did.” WINGS dren, and checking into a motel with this tiny girl he didn’t Her mournful tone made him look right at her. know made him feel like a monstrous sex pervert. He knew “Aw, that’s… that’s too bad, kid.” He had no idea what he wasn’t—Roscoe liked his women big and foul-mouthed— to say. but still, what would people think? What would they say if “I went next door to play, and when I came home, they knew? mommy was dead.” “So, uh, what’s your usual bedtime?” Unsure what to do, Roscoe got up and sat on the edge of Tina shrugged. a bed. “Don’t think about that now,” he said, almost Christ, she probably can’t tell time, Roscoe thought. pleading. “Jus’ go to sleep.” “Well, are you sleepy?” “I went next door, and mommy slipped in the shower.” She shrugged again. For “slipped,” she said “dlipped.” “Well, uh, why don’t you brush your teeth, an… and “Crap.” all.” Earlier, at the horse races, she’d had “a potty accident” “Mommy slipped in the shower an’ she hit her head an’ and he’d had to help her with her pull-up pants. He had she died. She died for ever and ever.” never felt so humiliated in his life, and once he’d actually “Christ kid… I mean, that’s rough.” Hesitantly, he reached pissed his own pants during a fight, when he got knocked out and stroked her hair. “I bet you miss her a lot, huh?” out. This had been worse. She nodded. “When is Daddy coming back?” “Well hey, she’s watching you from Heaven. You know “Oh, uh, real soon. If you go to bed and sleep, he’ll that, right?” probably be here when you wake up.” Another nod. “Really?” “An’ she’s… uh, you know. She’s in your heart, too. “Sure!” You know. She’s there forever.” She scampered off into the bathroom, and he sank “Uh huh,” she said softly. into a chair, breathing a big sigh of exhaustion. She “And you’ve got your dad. He’s gonna take good, good returned quickly. care of you.” “But I want her here right now!” And suddenly, she was “Did you brush?” “Uh huh.” crying. He didn’t think she had, but decided not to push it. Roscoe knelt by the bedside and put his arms around her. He wasn’t about to waste effort lobbying for pajamas or, “Shh,” he said. “It’s all right. It’s okay.” He couldn’t God forbid, a bath, either. Not when some hard cases think of anything to say or do, except to stroke her hair and from Johnny Bronco’s crews might bust down the door say things that he felt, deep in his heart, were utter lies. He any minute. 265 264 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES felt stupid and useless and weak, with nothing to offer this Hasmed grinned. It was Sal’s voice. poor suffering orphan except good intentions. “Rudy can’t come to the phone right now,” he said. Eventually, good intentions must have been enough, or “Ciullo? Listen, you fuck—” maybe she just got tired. She fell asleep. Hasmed clicked the off button and kept walking. Pretty AND GREG Roscoe sat in the chair with the gun in his lap, watching soon, another phone rang. the door and waiting. “Rock? Sal. Listen, Ciullo is in town, I think he got ANGEL Rudy and that new kid.” “Too late again, Sal.” Hasmed took money from the gangsters but reluctantly There was a blank silence from the other end of the line. left their pistols there. Taking them would just prolong the “Saying ‘oh shit’ would be appropriate,” Hasmed told inevitable police inquiry. Murdering them had refreshed WINGS him as he entered the bus station. him, and he’d gotten a letter opener with a decent tip out But Sal was made of sterner stuff. “Listen up you fuckin’ of the desk, along with more cash. He wasn’t sure how much freak. I don’t know what you are or how you’re doing this good the money would do, but it couldn’t hurt. shit, but you are gonna pay if it’s the last thing I do. I’m As he was on his way out, he heard a chirping sound gonna hound you. I’m gonna break you. You got any coming from a corpse. Coming closer, he found it was a friends? They’re dead. A pet? Dead. Your fuckin’ half- tinny version of “God Bless America”. sister-in-law, whatever, Helena? Fuggeddaboudit, Ciullo. When he flipped open AC’s cell phone, he heard a Unless you’re in the room with me right now.” scratchy woman’s voice saying “Arnold? It’s mama. On “Wait. Sal, wait a minute.” your way home, could you pick up a quart of milk for me? Over the phone came the sound of muffled hysteria, I’d go, but—” then Helena’s sobbing voice. He turned off the phone, shaking his head. Then he “Harvey, I told you not to! I told you not to go back with went to a hardware store for a saw and to Walgreen’s for a those guys! I said—” duffel bag. A loud bang cut her off. There were three men at his apartment when he got Hasmed swept his glasses off his face and shut his eyes, there, including Rock himself. Things got kind of crazy—he pressing the back of his hand against the bridge of his nose. was shot several times before he got control of the situation. He breathed out, searching for Helena. He sacrificed Rock to Vodantu, apologizing as he did— Gone. “You were pretty square with me, but you’re the chief, “Huh. So I guess there’s things you can’t do.” Sal’s voice you’re the pick of the litter”—and took the other two for was deeply satisfied. “Didn’t know I had her, eh? An’ I bet himself. you don’t know where I am now.” The police showed up while he was sawing off Rock’s “Your son is going to—” head. He took a shot and made some noise about hostages. “No, Ciullo, your daughter is going to die. Unless you The police started evacuating the building and calling in the get your fat monster ass out of town and never, ever come SWAT team, so Hasmed had plenty of time to finish his back. You get me? We are done, Ciullo. You’re fuckin’ decapitations, wrap the heads in layers of old plastic grocery exiled. If you ever come near my boy or my wife or my town, sacks and sneak out of the building under the cover of I’ll snuff your mama down in Florida and everyone who demonic influence. went to her weddings. You get me?” He’d been collecting cell phones, and one rang. He Harvey would have backed down. But Harvey would answered it. Except for AC’s phone, which was bright blue, never have been in the position to back down. they all looked pretty much the same. “Rudy? Talk to me.” 267 266 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND XVI STOLZE ASHES “NO, YOU GET ME, MACELLAIO,” Hasmed said, and he spoke not as a man, but with the voice of a minister of chapter creation. “YOU HAVE ROUSED A WRATH WHOSE DEPTH YOU CANNOT FATHOM. YOUR PETTY CRUELTY IS NOTHING TO ME. AND GREG KILL DOZENS IF YOU WISH: I HAVE STOOD ON THE CORPSES OF THOUSANDS. YOU WILL KNOW MY REVENGE, SAL MACELLAIO. ANGEL YOU WILL KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE A SINNER IN THE HANDS OF sixteen AN ANGRY GOD.” He turned off the phone and looked around him. People were staring. He tilted down his glasses, and they all WINGS suddenly found new homes for their glances. In a bathroom he wiped off the phones and left them neatly by the sink. Two were ringing as he pushed his way out. He bought a ticket, pulled out his own phone and left it off as he put it to his ear. “Rabbadün,” he said. “Can you meet me soon? Like, today or tomorrow?” The bus trip was long, and Hasmed spent most of it asleep. When he arrived, he called Boyer—conventionally, this time—and asked who he knew in Atlantic City. Having heard about the shit-storm with Rock and the Vuoto family, Boyer had stayed in New York, laying low. He gave Hasmed a reference. That reference—a guy called Tommy Bones—wasn’t all that easy to get to, but once Hasmed started showing the heads, people got the hell out of his way. It was midnight when he got his audience with Rico Pudoto. “This better be good.” Rico’s rolls of sweaty fat looked like freshly boiled bratwursts, only with thick, dark hair sprinkled liberally on top. Hasmed opened the duffel without a word. “Jesus, Mary and fuck,” Pudoto said, waving a hand in front of his nose. He leaned in. “Holy crap, that’s Rock all right.” “You want in on Vuoto’s turf.” Hasmed didn’t say it as a question. Rico shrugged. “I just whacked out Rock, two of his guys and two of Macellaio’s.” “Congratulations,” Rico said. “Let’s make a deal.” “Yeah?” 269 268 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “I get Macellaio out of the way. That’s my part. You even Vodantu, that spark feared what Hasmed could be if he make me and give me a crew. That’s yours.” gave in to that terrible, merciless joy. “Whoa whoa whoa.” Rico held up his hands. “I don’t It was the same thing again, the same waffling, human, know you from shit.” both-feelings-at-once thing. He wanted to see Tina—needed AND GREG “You know what I can do.” to—hoping against hope that she’d soothe the ache of anger “And I can’t just make people whenever I want.” and put him back in control. He needed her to put the beast ANGEL “Go to war with the Vuotos, and no one will blame you back in its cage. But at the same time, what if she didn’t? for opening the books.” What if he saw her and she was just another blob of meat, “Plus I got guys of my own. I can’t just bump you up to another sack of guts to spill out and desecrate for his Skipper from nothing. They’d hate me.” impatient master? WINGS “Tell ’em I was a made guy with Johnny Bronco and He sat strung between hope and fear, munching a donut you’re giving me a crew as a reward for piping his ass.” from the motel’s stale continental breakfast, until Roscoe “Yeah, Johnny Bronco. That’s another thing. He’s a brought Tina into the room. tough old fuck.” “Daddy!” “He’ll die soon.” Her hug was so tight it was actually painful. “That’s what we all thought, but I hear he’s all of a “Hey, kitten. Mornin’, Paum,” he nodded. sudden doin’ better.” “You look like sh—like crap, Hawv.” Hasmed smiled a flat, mirthless smile. “You don’t look so good yourself, Ros.” “How ’bout this,” he said. “You’re a gambler, right Rico?” “I didn’t sleep last night.” “With some things.” “Me either, much.” “I’m a gambler, too. I lost a lot betting that the Cubs “Daddy! Daddy! Can I have Cap’n Crunch?” would take the pennant this year.” “Sure, sweetie.” He turned to Roscoe and said, “Hey. “That’s a stupid fuckin’ bet, if you don’ mind me sayin’.” Thanks.” “I’ll bet you that Johnny Bronco dies within… what, two The boxer shrugged. days? If he does, we have a deal.” “No, really. You did me a real solid. Thanks.” “If he doesn’t?” “Hawv, there’s… there’s somethin’ you gotta know.” Hasmed shrugged. “A quarter mil over the next year and “Daddy! I’m having a donut!” a half sound fair? I can give you twenty large of it up front.” “I see you, honey. Careful with that milk, now!” “Hawv…” “Sorry Ros, she can be a handful. Well, you know that Waiting in the lobby of a Super 8 Motel, Hasmed was for sure.” nervous. He liked the killing—liked it a lot. Sawing off “Do you know the name Zoth-Tocatil?” Rock’s head had been about as much fun as he’d had since Hasmed kept his face carefully neutral. “That’s a weird the Fall. kind of name, Ros. Never heard it.” In one way. “Well… it… it kinda talks through you.” In another way, it made him sick, and it made him sad. “What?” There was some little bright part of him still, something “Remember when you, y’know, fixed me?” even Hell hadn’t crushed, and that part didn’t want him to “Daddy! Look!” be another Rabbadün, another gleeful killer. That small “Not now, sweetheart.” spark was still a guardian angel, and every time Tina looked “No, daddy! Look! Look!” at him, it got stronger and truer. More than it feared Sal or 271 270 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Hold on,” Hasmed said. With an apologetic look at Paum, he picked Tina up and walked her around, answer- Rabbadün was waiting at the airport. ing questions about the pool and laughing at her jokes and “Still drivin’ this beater, eh?” listening to her run-on, fragmentary account of her trip “Shut the fuck up.” AND GREG to the racetrack. When she seemed calmer, he came back “Yes sir, O great Asharu. O Master Hasmed of the Hated to Roscoe. Lash. ” He turned his neck, grinning. “So, where we going?” ANGEL “Okay, Ros, what were you saying?” “I need you to find someone for me.” The boxer opened his mouth and shut it. “Maybe now “I thought you Angels of the Firmament didn’t need ain’t the right time,” he said at last. anyone’s help in that department.” As he spoke, Rabbadün “A’right… maybe you’re right, I gotta get goin’.” He drummed his fingers on the dashboard of the car. WINGS sighed and knelt down before his daughter. “It’s been a hard couple days, and I need to conserve my “Tina, sweetie,” he said. “I gotta leave now. You stay strength. Plus, I need to get to him and away from him with Mr. Paum.” The two adults had discussed this over the quickly.” phone, so Roscoe was braced, but he still wasn’t prepared “Ah, I see. So I’m basically your getaway driver, hm?” for what happened. “Sure, whatever.” Tina exploded. She started with a wordless scream, then Rabbadün nodded. “Well, I’ll need three syllables of started flailing her arms, kicking and shrieking. your True Name.” “Sweetheart…” Hasmed tried to hold her, tried to “What? What the fuck are you talking about?” contain her. Her face was bright red, wet with tears, and “Hey, it’s tit for tat. You give a little, you get a little. One snot was streaming out over her upper lip. hand washes the other. You scratch my back—” “I hate you! I hate you hate you! You’re not my daddy! “I got three syllables for you: Suck my dick.” You lie to me! You’re bad! You’re mean mister deadface!” “Can’t help you with that.” That was when her dad lost his temper. “As long as you do the other thing.” “Tina, damn it,” he started, his voice getting louder and “Can’t help you find your guy, either.” deeper as his face started to match hers in color, “I do not The tires squealed as Hasmed pulled over to the side of need this shit! You hear me? I’m doing all this for you! I just the highway. “Listen, you puffed up Neberu ass-wipe, I’m threw away everything for you!” He had a hand on either not asking for your help, I’m telling you.” shoulder. He wasn’t shaking her, but his knuckles were “On what authority?” white with strain. It wasn’t that he was squeezing hard, it was “On my authority!” the effort of not gripping her painfully tight. “What authority is that? Your God-given right to lead Tina’s anger abruptly turned to fear, but she was trapped. lesser houses? I don’t think The Ancient of Days is about to The thing that scared her most was the thing she went to for stoop down and get your back, Hasmed. Or are you going comfort. She froze, immobile except for the writhing of her by your rank in Lucifer’s army—an army that lost and got mouth as she sobbed in utter misery. kicked into Hell for eight thousand years. An army whose Hasmed slumped. “Tina, you gotta give your old man a leader is nowhere to be found?” Rabbadün’s sneer turned break,” he whispered. into a snarl. “Welcome to the Fifth Age, shitforbrains. The Roscoe stepped forward wordlessly and put his arms only authority here is how much power you got. You need around the girl. She turned and buried her face in his chest. it, I got it, so what you gonna—” “Hey now,” Paum said. “Hey. How’bout you give your old dad a kiss huh? For good luck. A little hug for daddy?” She wouldn’t do it. 273 272 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES Roscoe had introduced Hasmed to both the speed bag be done with Hasmed and the Mafia and the rest of the shit and the heavy bag, so when he smashed his passenger across of life. the chops, it was a fairly good blow. At that moment, Hasmed envied him deeply, and that “You wanna bang heads with me, you shit?” envy breathed up the ember of hate that he’d banked low. AND GREG Rabbadün’s response was to lunge across the seat and try Why should Sal get out? Why should Sal be released to choke him. Hasmed got in two good jabs to the nose from this sick and shitty world, while Hasmed had to stay ANGEL knee-deep in the grime? What had Sal done to deserve the before they were clinched, before neither could punch and both were reduced to shoving and biting and gouging. reward of death, to earn its Get Out of Jail Free card, to As if by wordless agreement, neither took on their finally find out what God’s ultimate plan was? demonic forms. Both had been striving against a world with Screw that. WINGS no place for angels, and even as they gripped one another, Sal wasn’t going to live forever. Like every fallen guard- they could feel the pressure of the mundane world close ian, Hasmed knew that without a doubt. But at that moment, upon them both. The weight of overdue rent and job he decided that Sal wasn’t going to escape the hell of Earth, interviews and furniture that needed to be reupholstered, for a while at least. the weight of pencils with the erasers worn down and “Misery loves company,” he muttered. plugged radiator filters and lawns that could really use some “What?” When Hasmed turned and glared, Rabbadün fertilizer. The world of man kept them pinched into-man flinched back—good. “I just… just wanted to know who we shapes, and neither wanted to be the first to wrestle free of had to find and get to.” that hold. “A guy named Scott,” Hasmed said. “Sal Macellaio’s kid.” In the end, Hasmed’s greater weight won the day. He rolled Rabbadün to the left, down onto the floor of the Scott’s mom wasn’t Sal’s wife. She’d waited tables in sedan, with the hump of the drive shaft jammed into his back. Idaho, where Sal had passed through exactly twice. Scott had “Okay, okay,” Rabbadün said as Hasmed’s thumbs been one error in judgment, among many, but it had pressed down on his eye sockets. “You win.” He took a deep turned out for the best. When Sal passed through Idaho breath. “One syllable.” again ten years later, he saw a kid hanging out at the same Hasmed sighed. Why not? What was the use? Besides, restaurant. A kid who looked like him. they were nominally allies anyhow. He spoke a single, Cute kid—soft faced, he was doodling robots and gi- inhuman, unearthly syllable in the first language. raffes on his school notebook. Quiet. Sweet. And the “There.” Rabbadün wiped some blood from his nose. resemblance was pretty damn profound. “Was that so hard?” Sal took it slow, but he remembered the mom, remem- Groaning, they separated and returned to their seats. bered his other trip to Idaho, and when he was sure the kid Once he’d caught his breath, Hasmed pulled back onto was his, he did the right thing. A lot of right things, actually. the highway. Made arrangements. In Idaho, it wasn’t hard. Got the kid Shifting lanes, Hasmed wondered why he bothered. money for college, clothes, paid for a tutor when the kid Suppose he killed Sal, just like he’d killed Rock and AC and wanted to learn how to use an airbrush. Nothing big, except the others. What then? He’d be a rotten, dirty gangster with to Scott. Pudoto’s gang instead of Johnny Bronco’s. Big deal. Sal Sal didn’t see Scott all that often, really. Scott thought would go on to whatever unknowable, ineffable fate God Sal was a kindly, distant uncle. But something about Scott had reserved for mankind alone. One way or the other, he’d made Sal feel all right. The kid was an artist. Smart. His mom had gotten married, and they lived in an okay neigh- 275 274 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES borhood, a place with block parties, a place where neigh- With a deep, uneven breath, he went back out to the bors lent one another power tools and looked out for each Cadillac and put it in the tape deck. He didn’t want to hear other’s kids. it in his home. It was normal, and knowing that there was something There was a rumble, a hiss of audio blankness, and then AND GREG normal somewhere—that his son was being normal, some- abruptly Ciullo’s voice. where—that made a lot of heavy stuff all right for Sal. Sal did “—didn’t even know he was your dad?” ANGEL bad things. He killed a stoolie with a power drill, he shot “Salvatore Macellaio is my uncle. You… you guys are all bank guards, he strangled a PI who got too uppity, he turned around.” scammed a lot of money from a retirement fund for “He’s your dad, kid. Shit, you’re not real smart, are you?” widowed teachers, but that was okay. That was the life. When Sal winced. Scott was a gentle soul, he wasn’t used to insults. WINGS he felt bad about it, knowing that his son Scott would never “Before you die, kid, you’re going to curse your dad’s do those things put them in perspective. name.” That was why it was such a shock when Scott was threat- “I told you—” ened, and that was why he’d sprung the dough to send the There was a meaty, smacking sound, and Sal winced again. kid to art school in France for a semester. Sal figured he’d “Let’s do this thing without a lot of back-chat. Sal’s your have “Mr. Fortune” settled by the time Scott got back, and dad, not your uncle.” “Hey, unless he’s your dad and your uncle.” This was a finding one American student in all of Europe… that wouldn’t be possible, right? new voice, unpleasant, one Sal didn’t know. “That would be pretty hot.” “Look, who… whoever you guys are, whatever you want, Things were hot. Johnny Bronco died two days after I, I can…” Scott’s voice was uneven. He was trying to be brave. Harvey flew the coop. Sal, Cohn and Steel Pete all agreed it For the first time in eight years, a tear ran down Sal’s cheek. was best not to tell the soldati until things were settled. “I’ll tell you what I want,” Ciullo said. “I want Sal to Pudoto was getting bolder. Blood was being shed on suffer. I want him to suffer like I’ve suffered.” both sides, mobsters zipping between the two cities in “I’m sorry that you… but look, it’s not… I’m…” trains, planes, cars and busses, carrying guns and grenades “Physical pain.” Ciullo said it with a philosophical chill. and cash. Both sides were ratting each other out with Then again. “Physical pain.” ferocious speed, and the cops were loving it. It was warfare, “Ah… ah… Ahhhiiiiieeee!” fought with fire and stealth and treachery. Sal Macellaio was “Pretty bad, huh kid?” Scott was sobbing in the back- in the thick of it. ground as Harvey spoke. “But it’s really only meat. It stops, Sal found a cassette tape in his mailbox at home. He’d eventually, y’know?” been out all night bickering with Steel Pete, making tough “Oh please… please…” choices about who to send where and do what. Who could “Now you want real torment? Real torment is knowing that risk prison. Who they could trust in New York and Boston someone you love is going to die, and that you can’t save them.” and Philadelphia. “Oh God…” When he got home, there was a tape, and it was labeled “Sal killed my sister, you know. My half-sister, really, but “Scott.” she was a good woman who never did shit to nobody, and your As soon as he saw it, he felt dread. He wanted to go to dad killed her for no reason besides he was pissed at me.” sleep, he was exhausted, but he knew he’d listen. He knew he “My dad… my uncle… he’s, he imports specialty foods! had to listen. He sells olives and cheeses! He never killed anyone!” 277 276 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “Do you ever read the goddamn newspapers? Never Each word was like the climactic note of some unworldly heard of Sal Macellaio, the alleged hijacker and robber, symphony, something grand and awe-inspiring. Even the suspected member of the Vuoto crime family? No? Stuck to flat, imperfect recording made Sal’s bones thrill within the comics pages, eh?” him. “FOR HIS CRUELTY AND CRIME, YOU SHALL BE CONDEMNED AND GREG “None of that… I’m from Idaho, there isn’t…” INTO THE MAW OF THE DEMON DUKE VO—” Again, that click “Idaho, huh? Funny.” and rumble, something missing before the voice contin- ANGEL There was another scream, high and long and full of ued. “—SUFFER IN ETERNITY FOR YOUR FATHER’S BOLDNESS! despair. NOW, WITH YOUR DYING BREATH: CONDEMN THE MAN WHO “I want you to say you hate your dad.” DOOMED YOU TO THIS AGONY! HATE YOUR FATHER! DAMN THE “No.” NAME SAL MARCHELLEO!” WINGS Another sound of pain, this one softer, more like a gasp. “IT’S MACELLAIO,” said a second voice—a voice like a “I want you to say you hate Sal Macellaio.” rumble of thunder, or like the hiss of hail striking down “No!” ripe crops. “COME ON, SCOTT. YOU KNOW THIS IS HIS FAULT. “Say it,” Sal whispered, knowing it was too late, knowing GET EVEN. GIVE HIM SOMETHING TO REMEMBER YOU BY.” his son must be dead, but stupidly still hoping. “Oh God, oh God…” “That’s another torment, you see. When you love some- “THE ONE ABOVE WON’T HELP YOU NOW, SCOTT. HE one and you give everything for them and make sacrifices they WON’T. HE CAN’T. IF YOU WOULD PRAY, PRAY TO YOUR NEW can’t even understand, but they hate you. That’s pretty bad.” MASTER, V—” Again, the skip. What was getting edited out? “Go to hell.” When the tape resumed, it was Scott speaking. If the tape That got thick laughs from both men. Not nasty snickers had started at that point, Sal wouldn’t have recognized the intended to intimidate, but real, honest belly laughs. voice. It was his son, but transformed by physical pain and “Kid, you got no idea. Hey, you wanna see something? deep, deep fear. He’d only been listening for, what, four Watch this.” minutes? The longest four minutes of his life. Four min- “Nnnnn… nnnnnnooooo!” utes in which Scott’s kind, soft, intelligent voice had been “Yeah, that’s pretty bad huh? Hurts like a motherfucker, transformed into this broken whine, this whimper, every yeah? But, well, once they’re crushed, that’s it, right? Right?” word groaning under a load of suffering and terror. Scott’s answer was high-pitched sobs. “God, please kill me. Please God, please let me die. “Wrong. Abracadabra. Alakazam, you poor bastard.” Please. Please God…” The tape caught a peculiar hissing sound, then Ciullo’s voice Ciullo’s cold snicker drowned out Scott’s pleas. “That,” again. “Good as new. Ready to be crushed all over again.” he said, “Is the one prayer God always grants. Eventually.” “Applied with malice, the healing gift can be the cruelest There was a wet sound, like when a gristly joint of meat of all.” This was the second voice, Harvey’s unknown friend. gets separated from a cooked animal, and then silence. He sounded so happy it was almost hysteria. “See, we’re not “He died believing, Sal.” It was Ciullo’s voice again, full gangsters. We’re not some petty crooks, breaking human of cold purpose. “Just like you will.” laws. Should we show him, Has—” There was an abrupt skip in the tape, a few seconds’ worth of rumbling, and then Scott’s voice again. “Oh… oh no. No. Please no.” “THE SINS OF THE FATHER ARE VISITED ON THE SON.” The voice was… unearthly, loud and beautiful and terrifying. 279 278 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES garlic-stuffed olives. A waitress walking by was suddenly re- minded of an ex-lover, a man who was now just a memory, and a sad memory at that. She furrowed her brow, and for just a moment all the trinkets and buttons she was required to wear AND made her feel fragile and disposable. With slumped shoulders, GREG she asked a licensed Xerox repair representative and his lunch date (who was the comptroller at a regional Foot Locker EPILOGUE ANGEL warehouse), if they needed another drink. They decided, on the spur of the moment, to just get the check and leave. Scattered throughout the bar, people lost interest in the hockey game currently on television, started suddenly talking WINGS about their regrets and missed opportunities, or had minor quarrels that baffled them once they got as far as the parking lot. In short, while the bar had aimed for Buddy Holly singing Little Sheila, its tone had somehow landed on Little Milton and Stormy Monday. A man with sparkling green eyes and thick red hair entered and made a beeline for the source of the malaise. Although the short black killjoy’s back was to door, he stiffened and turned, glaring. When the pair locked eyes, the bartender dropped a glass of Molson Canadian. The waitress’s Bic ballpoint also cracked and leaked black ink on her fingers The TGI Friday’s bar in Toronto’s Pearson Airport was as she handed it to the copier repairman, but he had problems meant to be cheerful. It was warmly lit, but not too bright, not of his own as he’d just stabbed himself in the gums with a plastic brassy and glaring. The walls were filled with colorful and cocktail sword while sucking off the olives from his mahrtooni. charming mementos of good times gone by. Expert designers (It wasn’t a martini: It was a specialty drink called a had plotted every inch of surface to make the place chipper and “mahrtooni.”) As for the Foot Locker comptroller, she had upbeat. Consultants had gotten handsome fees for cleverly suddenly started choking on a piece of bone from her suppos- naming the drinks the bar served. Even the selection of music in edly boneless chicken tenders. the jukebox had been focus-grouped for maximum fun appeal. “What you drinkin’?” the redhead asked, cheerfully. The But while Sal Macellaio was listening to the sounds of his black man glared. son’s death, the bar was gripped by gloom. “I believe it’s called a ‘Juicy Lucy,’” he said. His voice was This had nothing to do with Sal or Scott or Hasmed and sour as pickle brine. Rabbadün. Instead, the gloom was focused on a short, hairless “Ah. Wasn’t she the one who did the Watusi in a rockin’ pair black man sitting at the end of the bar nursing a whimsically of blue suede shoes?” He turned to the barman and said, “An- named drink. other Juicy Floozie for my companion here and… hm, I’ll have a The black man was wearing jeans, a polo shirt and penny shot of Absolut Peppar with a Fosters back.” He looked at the bald loafers. He didn’t look out of place, except for an ugly mark on man and asked, “Should we split an order of buffalo wings?” the back of a mangled hand. But the drinker kept that hand in “I’m not going to break bread with you, stranger.” his lap, out of sight. Nevertheless, as he slumped forward and “No one’s talking about the breaking of the bread.” drank, he seemed to radiate a bleak sense of mortality and The black man scowled but said nothing. depression. It rolled off him like bad breath. It infected the “So,” the redhead said. “That’s a very interesting ring bartender, who frowned as he restocked the lime slices and you have.” 281 280 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND STOLZE ASHES “You want a closer look?” He said it the way he might have “Hah. Of all the lessons you could have learned, that’s one of the worst. What you should have learned is that the sides aren’t as said, “You want me to shove your bloodless corpse into a wood chipper?” cleanly divided as you’ve always believed.” He shrugged. “Though, “The last guy I saw with a ring like that was named Max I suppose someone who wasn’t convinced by condemnation to AND Hirniesen.” He nodded as the bartender served their drinks. Hell wouldn’t knuckle under, even to obvious evidence.” GREG “Who are you?” His tone and volume got nervous looks from “Thanks.” The black man’s eyes widened. “So you’re the one.” the bartender and the waitress. Most of the other patrons had ANGEL The green-eyed man smiled and modestly pressed his quietly settled up and found reasons to leave without dawdling. hands to his chest. “Guilty,” he sang out coyly. Then he “I—like you—am the enemy of the mad denizens of the winked. “You can thank me by getting the next round.” Abyss. I’m an enemy of those demons who lurk like cancers in “Who are you?” the sweet skin of Earth. I can guide you to great monsters when WINGS “Max thought I was a woman named Penelope, but he was they are weakest, and I can teach you how best to steal their wrong. You guess.” strength to use against their cousins in filth.” “Guessing names is perilous for our kind. Every wrong The black man backed off his barstool and stood, alert. name calls attention.” “I am your ally and patron, and I am the only of our ilk who “I’ll give you hints, then. Who would put a weapon of such will help you. I have been named Most Glorious, and Prince of power in the hands of someone so despised by his fellows? This World, and Adversary. I am called Lightbringer and Someone formerly of the malhim, Heaven’s most feared Morningstar and Lord of Lies.” warriors? Someone almost guaranteed to turn its power against “Lucifer.” Hell’s other inmates?” The red-haired man grinned without mirth and tapped his “I would have guessed a servant of the Allmaker, but I know own nose. “Exactly right, Usiel. And we have much work to do.” you’re nothing of the sort.” The redhead looked serious for the first time since he’d walked in. He opened his mouth, but instead of speaking, he downed his shot of vodka. “I’ve been following your troubles with Vassago. Most interesting.” The black man drew in a sharp breath. The redhead waved a hand negligently. “Your fiendish foe won’t track me from that single utterance. Trust me.” “I’d rather trust a snake to nurse a kitten.” “Mm, I probably deserve that,” the redhead said, sipping his beer. “But that doesn’t change some essential facts. You’ve made a powerful enemy—one you aren’t ready to fight… yet. You’ve hurt him, but he’s on guard, and a forewarned Neberu is a dangerous foe indeed.” Another sip. “Especially one who’s corrupted a servant of Heaven.” “What do you know of that?” “The question is, what do you know?” The bald man looked down, ran one hand’s fingers over the nubs where others had been burned off. “I know the Allmaker has not forgiven me.” 283 282 GREG STOLZE ASHES ANGEL WINGS AND ? STOLZE ASHES about AND GREG ANGEL the author WINGS In the course of his life, Greg Stolze has been a secretary, a librarian, a groundskeeper, a novelist, a full- time parent and a telephone solicitor. He has worked for a bank, a credit union, a college and two different real estate companies. He has written classified ads, answered phones and done data entry. Writing is, by far, the easiest job he’s done so far. Parenting is the hardest. 285 284