"Tell me what you know!" I commanded.
"He hangs out with this Fallen girl," Cormac said finally, referring to the vernacular for fallen angels. "Eisheth Levanon."
"What do you know about her?" I asked.
"She's an ex-prostitute, but she used to work for some kind of archangel before she fell in with us," Cormac elaborated. "I don't know where she's staying, but if you find her, you'll find him."
"Thank you," I said, and since I knew he wouldn't let us just walk out of here, I pulled back and punched him as hard as I could. It didn't knock him out, not completely, but it would leave him dazed enough that we could get out.
"Come on!" I yelled and grabbed Asher's hand.
I didn't know where we were going, but I had to get out before Cormac alerted all the demons that there was a Valkyrie in their midst stirring up trouble. I darted down the narrow hallways until I finally spotted a door with a bright red EXIT sign above it.
I pushed through, still holding Asher's hand, and we ran out into the cold night to a deserted back alley. Despite the chill of the air, my skin was flushed with heat, and my body felt like a live wire, electricity surging through me.
Once we'd gotten outside, I let go of Asher's hand, and we stood under the dark sky, which was glowing red from the lights of the club. We stood together, both of us breathing deeply to catch our breath, and in that moment, the two of us alone in the alley, I couldn't recall a time that I'd ever felt more alive.
When I looked over at Asher, a sly smile played on his lips, and something in his eyes made me think he felt the same way.
"That was badass," he said, his voice a husky rumble, and he stepped closer to me, causing my heart to skip a beat.
I meant to thank him, but the words died on my lips. My pulse raced, and my breath came out shallow and shaky in anticipation--anticipation of what, I didn't know, but I felt it coming, or at least I hoped for it. Ached for it, really.
My legs felt weak, like jelly, but I also felt stronger than ever, like I had taken on an army of ogres and still came out on top. Everything was now in hyperfocus, as if time were slowing down. The world felt like it all might pitch to the side, but I wasn't scared at all, because I knew that Asher would catch me if I fell.
I was acutely aware of how close to me Asher was. So close I could reach out and pull him into my arms, if I wanted to. My thoughts raced back to the dance floor, when my body had been pressed against his, and I could still feel his hands, cold and rough on my hips, and I'd only wanted him--
Then he was there, right there against me, with his hand on my face. I sucked in a breath, breathing him, and the scent of his cologne suddenly transported me to a memory of my childhood, when I'd been lost in a dark forest outside of the city during a rainstorm.
It was the most frightening and exhilarating and enchanting memory of my life, and that's exactly what Asher smelled like now--woodsy and dark and crisp and alive. Like terror and happiness.
His eyes searched mine, and his thumb tentatively traced the outline of my lips. When his mouth finally found mine, it was like getting struck by lightning--I could actually feel the electric heat pulsing through me.
He pushed me backward, but I didn't stumble. I just clung to him, letting him lead me until my back pressed against the cold stone of a wall. As he crushed me against it, kissing me ravenously, I realized I'd underestimated his strength.
Asher was raw power and lust, and the intensity of his kisses and the insistence of his hands roaming my body sent shivers all through me. It all terrified me, but I couldn't get enough of it, enough of him, and I held him to me, lifting a leg to wrap around him and pull him closer to me.
He let out a low moan, a soft rumble in my ear, that made my stomach swirl with delicious excitement, and his lips brushed against my neck. His moved down, gripping the bare skin of the thigh that I'd wrapped around him, and his fingers dug into my flesh as he kissed me.
As abruptly as he'd started, he stopped, stepping back and leaving me gasping against the wall. My skin was trembling, and the mixture of pleasure and relief that washed over me reminded me of how I felt after I'd finished a job and had killed an immortal.
Except, of course, that Asher left me unsatisfied and desperate for more.
"Sorry. That probably wasn't appropriate," he breathed.
I shook my head. "No. That was ... that was good." It was the most perfect, intense kiss of my life, but I didn't want to explain that to him. Not then.
Squawking--a robust cackle, really--from behind Asher finally made me pull my gaze away from him and his stormy blue eyes. A few meters behind him, in the otherwise deserted alley, a massive raven was perched on a dumpster.
The bird's dark, beady eyes were locked on me, and I realized it was the same raven I'd seen before. The one that had watched me kill Amaryllis Mori, the Jorogumo. I wondered dimly how long it had been here, how long it had watched me with Asher.
"We should get out of here," I told Asher, just as the raven cawed and flew off.
TWENTY-EIGHT
I stumbled out of my bedroom, limping because my left leg was killing me, just as Oona was coming in the front door. Despite the overcast skies and rain hammering against the window making it look like night, the alarm clock on my bed assured me it was well after noon.
"Are you just waking up?" she asked, taking off her jacket and kicking off her shoes.
"I had a long night," I reminded her as I hobbled into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Bowie was hopping around my feet, begging to be fed, and I nearly tripped over him as I dumped a cup of Lagomorph Chow into his bowl.
"I was sleeping when you came in. Did everything go okay?"
"Yeah. As good as it could, I guess," I answered. "Where were you?"
"Brunch with my mom and my cousin Minerva."
"How'd that go?" I asked, pouring myself a huge mug of coffee.
"Fine, except my mom kept getting annoyed that me and Minerva were talking about thaumaturgy and all that." Oona stopped talking to eye me as I hobbled to the couch to sit down. "How is your leg?"
"Awful," I admitted, but I tried to gloss over it by immediately asking her, "Is Minerva the sorceress?"
"She is, and she gave me these cool protection crystals to try out," Oona said, but she was already turning and walking into her room.
A second later, she came out with the ocher-colored solamentum in the palm of her hands. She held them out to me, but when I reached for them, she closed her fist and pulled them back. "I'll give you two more of these, but you have to promise me that you'll go to the doctor tomorrow and get your leg checked out for real. Promise me."
"I promise," I said, but honestly, I would've agreed to most things if it meant I could take something to ease the throbbing of my leg. I downed them quickly before she had a chance to change her mind, and she sat down on the couch beside me.
"So, what all happened? Did you find out anything?" she asked.
I explained to Oona what had happened and what we had found out, deliberately leaving out the part where Asher had kissed me, but just thinking about it made my skin flush. It wasn't that I was ashamed or wanted to keep it a secret--there were just more important things at hand and I didn't want to waste time dissecting what was happening between me and Asher.
Especially since I didn't know what was happening with us. The kiss had been exhilarating and brilliant, albeit very brief, but after that there had been nothing. We left the club and drove around for a bit, partially to cool off and partially because the streets were so crowded it was hard to get anywhere quickly.
But then we'd just parted ways and agreed to meet up later.
"I could probably track her down," Oona commented, once I'd finished explaining that Cormac Kaur had said Bram Madichonnen was staying with Eisheth Levanon. "You could, too."
I shook my head. "I tried searching the Internet. But you know how the impious can be. They're either posting everywhere all over social media, or they're c
ompletely silent and working in the background."
"No, I mean, you could use alchemy," she corrected me.
"No, I can't." I groaned and leaned my head back against the couch. "Alchemy is so hard."
"You need to practice it more, Mal. You wanna be a Valkyrie? You wanna track down this guy that's turning the world upside down? Then you gotta get a handle on your alchemy."
"Can you just help me today, and tutor me on alchemy another day?" I asked hopefully.
Oona sighed. "Fine. First, what do you know about Eisheth Levanon?"
"She's a Fallen and Cormac says she's an ex-prostitute."
That made sense, because a lot of Fallen ended up that way. Some angels were allowed to live and love freely, but certain sects were required to be completely "pure" and abstain from all sorts of physical pleasure. If they gave in to their urges, they were booted out of their group and usually lost their jobs. And without any real skills, other than their former purity and goodness, many of them fell onto prostitution.
"She lives in the city?" Oona asked.
"Supposedly. A lot of Fallen live in the Wolf River District, so if she's here, she's probably staying somewhere in that area."
"Great. That narrows it down. I'll get my kit," she said, and she was already up and hurrying to her room.
Oona gathered up her alchemy toolbox and lugged it to the living room. She pulled out a mirrored tray and set it on the coffee table, then began rummaging through her toolkit until she pulled out several different-colored vials.
One of the largest bottles, curved and filled with a glowing lime-green liquid, sat near the top, and she picked it up and pulled out the glass stopper. Slowly, she poured it into the tray, filling it up to the edge of the lip. With deft movements I didn't understand, Oona waved her hand over the liquid, causing a glowing mist to rise above it and dissipate throughout the room.
"This isn't going to hurt Bowie, is it?" I asked.
My wolpertinger was sitting by the window, dutifully cleaning his long ears with his front paws. But at the sound of his name, he perked up and looked over at me.
"I would never do anything to hurt Bowie. He'll be fine just as long as he doesn't drink this."
She added a few more vials, saying a Latin phrase each time she poured one in. Taking a long stick from her box, she stirred the mixture before adding a vial of black crystals. The pool of liquid turned black and became smooth and reflective, appearing more like a television screen than a tray of potions and liquid.
Oona rubbed her hands together and cleared her throat. "Ostende mihi Wolf River District."
"What'd you just say?" I asked, and she held up a finger to silence me.
The liquid began to swirl, changing from black to gray, and slowly an image began to take form. At first I didn't recognize it, but as the streets and old warehouses took shape, I realized it was an aerial view of the Wolf River area.
"Lumino angelorum lapsus," Oona said, and buildings started lighting up, glowing bright green.
"What's happening?" I asked.
She motioned to the tray. "It's showing places where fallen angels live."
"That's like a hundred places or more," I pointed out. "Is there a way to narrow it down?"
"Well, I was hoping there would be fewer spots on here." Oona chewed the inside of her cheek. "What else can you tell me about Eisheth?"
"Um, she's supposedly been hanging around with this Bram guy a lot lately," I said.
"Would you say she was his consort?" Oona asked helpfully.
I shrugged. "Maybe?"
"And what do you know about Bram?"
"Just that he's a draugr. Allegedly."
"Oh, right." Oona thought for a minute, then leaned over the tray and cleared her throat. "Lumino consorcio immortui."
Many of the lights blinked out, but about two dozen still glowed.
"I think that vampires and a few other types of the impious are being lumped in because I had to use the word for 'undead,' since I didn't know the one for draugr," Oona explained. "So I need something else."
"Can you just say Eisheth?" I asked.
Oona shook her head. "It doesn't work like that. Beings go by many different names. You have to describe who they are, not what they're called."
"Cormac thought she used to work for an archangel, if that's helpful."
"I'll try it." She rubbed her hands together again and incanted, "Lumino servi archangeli."
With that, all the lights went out, except for one.
"Adducet eam ad me," Oona said authoritatively, and the image in the pool zoomed in, bringing us just above the glowing building. "That's where she is."
"So where is that?" I asked, tilting my head.
"What does that look like?" Oona leaned over the pool, squinting at a street sign. "I think that says ... Lake Street and ... Canal Avenue." She sat back on her knees, looking proud of herself. "Eisheth lives in a building at the corner of Lake Street and Canal Ave."
I was about to thank her, when something occurred to me. "Why can't we do this with Bram or even Tamerlane Fayette?"
Oona shook her head. "They're way too powerful. This kind of thing only works on low-level supernatural beings, like Manananggals or the Fallen. I doubt it would've even worked on Tamerlane Fayette before he became a draugr."
Angels were divine and immortal, but once they became Fallen, they gave up their immortality and all their authority. That would make Eisheth Levanon easier to deal with once we found her, because she wouldn't need a Valkyrie sword or a kill order for me to be able to end her life, if that became necessary.
I leaned back in the couch, exhaling deeply. Bowie came over and hopped onto my lap. He ruffled his feathered wings, and I absently petted him, smoothing them out.
Oona propped her elbows on the table and looked up at me. "What's your next move?"
"Wait for the pain meds to kick in, and then go tell Marlow that we found a link to Bram Madichonnen," I decided.
"Are you gonna contact Asher?" she asked.
I shook my head. "Not today."
Things were already strained enough between Marlow and me right now. I didn't need to add the tension surrounding Asher and all the mixed feelings about his quest. Besides, I was only going to relay some info to my mother. It'd be simple and quick, and nothing exciting should happen. He didn't need to be there for that.
TWENTY-NINE
"You didn't have to come with me," I told Oona as she huffed up the flight of stairs behind me.
She'd wanted to drive me here because she didn't think I'd properly be able to drive the luft with my injured leg since I'd overdone it last night, even though I'd been coping pretty well the last couple days. But if it made her feel better to tag along, I was happy to let her.
"No, no, I got this," she insisted, jogging up the last few steps to catch up with me. "I do really need to start working out more. It's ridiculous that it's harder for me to go up those sixty steps than it was for you with your injured leg."
"I do train for this kind of thing," I reminded her, pausing at the landing outside Marlow's apartment to give Oona time to catch her breath.
"Maybe I should start training with you." She reached out to touch my bicep, firm and brawny underneath my light jacket. "Wow. Maybe I could start out slower, like with a spin class."
I knocked at the door, and Marlow answered relatively quickly, at least for her. Her hair was still wet from a shower, and she was makeup-less, other than her usual dark red lipstick. She leaned on the doorframe, sighing at me.
"Don't you ever call anymore?" she asked.
"You never answer when I call," I countered, which was true. I'd tried calling her three times before I came over, but she literally never answered her phone.
Marlow raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't that tell you something?"
"That's a real nice way to talk to your daughter," I muttered before plunging into my spiel. "I just came to tell you that we found out something about one of those draugrs, bu
t if you don't wanna talk--"
She instantly straightened up and her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, you found something out?" Then she glanced over at Oona. "Oh, fine, come in. The both of you."
Marlow walked into her dim apartment, which was still fairly clean from Asher's visit, though there were several empty alcohol bottles piled up around the sink. So either she had cleaned out a closet, or she had gone on a minor drinking binge after parting ways with Asher and me yesterday.
Some exercise equipment--free weights and a stair-stepper--was strewn about the living room, and she had on her stretch pants and a loose muscle shirt. The armholes hung low, exposing the black of her sports bra and a nasty scar that ran along her ribs below it.
Oona and I sat down on the couch, but Marlow remained standing, lighting one of her cigarillos.
"How are you doing, Oona?" Marlow asked. "Is your mom still running that dress shop?"
"I'm good," she said, sounding exaggeratedly chipper. Like most people who had met Marlow, Oona was intimidated by her. "Yes, she is still sewing and tailoring."
Marlow nodded, taking a long drag of her tobacco. "That's good. Tell her hi when you see her."
"Will do," Oona replied.
"So." Marlow cast her gaze on me. "What is this exciting new piece of information you discovered?"
"Last night, Asher and I went to the Red Raven--"
"You did what?" Marlow growled, instantly tensing, and Oona shrank back on the couch beside me.
"It wasn't a big deal," I said, trying to play it off. "We were both fine."
"I specifically told you not to! It's too dangerous!" Marlow shouted at me.
"Well, we were fine, so it wasn't that dangerous," I argued. "And you didn't seem to care that much about my well-being when you sent me out to face Amaryllis Mori on my own."
She shook her head and began pacing slowly across the living room. "That was different."
"How is that different?" I asked.
"You're supposed to handle Amaryllis on your own," Marlow contended. "You trained for it, have a sword for it. Hell, you were born for it! You can't just go taking on the demon underbelly by yourself."
I let out an exasperated groan. "We were fine! I don't even know what you're so mad about."
"Because you didn't wait for me when I asked you to," Marlow said, speaking to me like I was either stupid or a small child, or maybe a particularly stupid small child.