"We're not just going to wait around forever for you," I told her. "Tamerlane Fayette has already killed at least one Valkyrie. We need to stop him before anybody else gets hurt."
Marlow finally stopped pacing. She flicked her cigarillo in a nearby ashtray, and her entire body slackened. Staring down at the floor, she rubbed her temples and exhaled heavily.
"You need to be more careful," she said.
"I am," I insisted.
She looked at me like she wanted to argue, but she took a resigned breath instead. Her normally hard steel eyes were misty when she said, "I know I'm not much of a mother, Malin. But I just want you to be safe."
I opened my mouth, wanting to say some sort of word of comfort, but I couldn't think of anything. I wasn't used to any tenderness from her and didn't know how to react.
But she was still my mother, and I did still love her.
"So what did you find out?" Marlow asked finally.
I explained everything Asher and I had found out at the Red Raven, which caused her to respond with several eye rolls and tongue clicks. Then Oona chimed in to explain the incantations she'd done to track down where Eisheth Levanon lived.
"Well, I suppose we ought to get going, then," Marlow said abruptly when we'd finished.
I glanced over at Oona in surprise before asking, "Right now?"
Marlow put out her cigarillo, then went over to her pantry. That's where most people stored their food, but hers was filled to the brim with weapons. She grabbed several knives, including her sword Mordare.
"You were asking around the Red Raven last night and caught the attention of Arawn," Marlow explained as she laid out her weapons on the kitchen table. "It won't be long before Bram Madichonnen and any other draugrs know that you're looking for them. And then they'll either skip town or go on the offense and come after us."
"So you're saying that we need to get to them first?" I asked.
"Exactly," she replied. "Oona, are you coming with us?"
"I can, in case I might be able to help if you guys get lost," she offered.
Marlow held a jagged knife toward her. "Then you better take this, just to be safe."
Oona did as she was told, while Marlow headed back to her bedroom to finish getting ready. I went over to the weapons cabinet to start picking out a few knives for myself. Oona stared down at the knife with nervous eyes and chewed her lip.
"Stay close to me, and you'll be fine," I promised her.
THIRTY
The large square brick building before us had once been a warehouse--an old luftfahrrad factory, Marlow thought--but it now housed over a hundred small loft apartments. Or at least that's what the property manager had claimed.
Oona's magic had gotten us to the building, but it was Marlow's old-fashioned detective work that got us to Eisheth's door. She'd gone in to the property manager's office and, using a combination of flirtation and threats, was able to ascertain that Eisheth Levanon lived in apartment 21B, and even got the manager to buzz us into the building.
The lights in the hallway hung below the exposed pipes and kept flickering on and off. In the last few seconds before Eisheth finally opened the door, we were submerged in total darkness.
For a moment the only light came from her loft, and she stood backlit in the open door--a dark shadow with wings towering over her. The silhouette of a demon.
Then the hall lights flicked on and revealed a beautiful young woman standing in the door. Her long dark hair cascaded past her shoulders, and two black leathery wings extended from her back. She wore a white sarong, loosely tied up around her neck, so her ample breasts were all but falling out the sides, and the sarong was sheer enough that her nipples were entirely visible.
She parted her lips slightly and tilted her head. "I didn't buzz you in, did I?"
"No, the manager let us in," Marlow explained. "We just wanted to chat with you."
She laughed hollowly. "I've already met my lord and savior, and I don't have any money to buy anything else you might be selling. Sorry."
Marlow put her hand on the door, stopping Eisheth from closing it. "No, we're not here to convert you or sell anything."
Eisheth narrowed her eyes, but didn't try closing the door farther, so I took that as a good sign and plunged ahead by saying, "We only wanted to know if Bram Madichonnen is around."
Instantly her expression hardened. "I don't know anyone named Bram." She tried to slam the door, but Marlow held strong, and the door wouldn't budge.
"We know you're lying," Marlow warned her.
"How could you possibly know that?" Eisheth demanded.
"I'm a sorceress," Oona piped up confidently. "I know all kinds of things."
Eisheth gave up and sighed. "Fine." She turned and walked back into the loft, her hips swaying subtly under her dress. "You can come in if you want, but Bram's not here. And when he gets here, if he doesn't like you, he'll kill you."
The loft was sparsely furnished, with thick black drapes covering the large windows and blocking out any light--and keeping out any prying eyes. The decor felt very bohemian, with lots of draping, beads, and mandalas. There were no traditional tables or chairs--only cushions and pillows on the floor.
Candles had been set out all over the space. Kitchen counters, the mantel, the floor, nearly ever surface had a candle on it, burning dimly. Melted wax was dripped onto everything.
"I'd offer you something to drink, but I don't want you here, so..." Eisheth laughed lightly at her own joke, then fell back onto the "bed," a collection of overstuffed pillows and blankets.
I walked to the center of the room, close to where Eisheth lounged. Oona followed me more slowly, careful not to step on any open flames or freshly melted wax. Marlow began circling the edge of the room, taking slow, deliberate steps.
"We don't mean to intrude, and we don't plan to be here long," I said.
"Mmm-hmm," Eisheth murmured, lounging back on her pillows.
"When do you expect Bram back?" Marlow asked, stopping to admire a large art piece made out of macrame.
"Soon," Eisheth replied indifferently.
"How long have you known Bram?" Marlow tried again.
"I'm not telling you anything about him," she said. "If he wants you to know, he'll tell you himself."
"That sounds fair," Oona said.
Eisheth turned her narrowed eyes on Oona. "Are you really a sorceress?"
Oona nodded. "Yeah."
"Show me something," Eisheth commanded.
Oona smiled nervously. "I'm not a magician. I don't just perform feats for simple entertainment."
Eisheth leaned forward, resting on her arms, and looked up at Oona. "If you show one of your tricks, I'll tell you something about Bram." Oona glanced back at me, so Eisheth added, "If it's something really good, I'll tell you three things."
Oona chewed her lip, thinking. "Okay. I got it." She dug into the pockets of her jacket and pulled out a small satin bag. "My cousin Minerva just gave this to me today, so I'm not entirely sure it will work."
"Show me what you got, Magic Man," Eisheth teased.
Oona dumped the bag into her hand, filling her palm with tiny amethyst crystals, looking like purple grains of salt. She closed her eyes and began slowly rubbing her hands together. Her lips were moving, but I couldn't hear any words.
Finally she opened her eyes and held her hands far apart, up in the air, and all the purple crystals were gone.
"As yparchei skotadi," Oona whispered, and the candles went out--every single one, plunging the loft into near-total darkness.
"Kai egeneto fos," she breathed, and all the candles lit up again. Only this time, for a few seconds, they burned bright purple before changing back to their normal amber flame.
Eisheth threw her head back, cackling with glee. "That was great!"
"I held up my end of the deal," Oona said proudly. "Now tell us three things about Bram."
"Okay." Eisheth sat up a bit. "I've known Bram for two years. He hates surpr
ises, and..." Her smile widened, growing more seductive. "He's going to kill you when he gets home."
That caused her to burst out laughing again, and Oona looked nervously at me. I was about to tell her that everything would be okay when the door to the apartment opened. Eisheth barely managed to stifle her giggles as a man strode into the room.
His eyes were hard, but his smile was bemused. His dark hair had begun graying at the temples, and though he looked much like a mortal man, he was much taller and more broad-shouldered.
When he caught sight of Marlow standing in front of his fireplace, he let out a warm chuckle.
"You're not Bram Madichonnen," Marlow said, and I could hear the struggle in her voice to keep its tenor even. "You're Tamerlane Fayette."
He grinned more broadly. "You're in luck. I'm both."
THIRTY-ONE
Marlow took slow, deliberate steps away from the fireplace, putting herself between where Oona and I stood and where Tamerlane had entered the room. I did the same, moving so I partially shielded Oona.
As soon as Marlow said his name, I recognized him from the pictures I'd seen, but he did look different. In photos, his skin was tawny and warm, but now it had a dull blue tone to it, making it appear ashy and gray.
And somehow, he seemed bigger. Larger and more imposing.
"You don't look happy to see me," Tamerlane commented. "Or are you just unhappy that I'm still alive?"
"Why would I be unhappy?" Marlow smiled, and very slowly the two of them began circling each other. He would step closer, and she'd step away--keeping the distance between them the same. "I'm the one that let you live."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten." He scratched his head, seeming very nonchalant, and I noticed the ends of his fingertips were scarred--he'd burned his fingerprints off to help mask his identity. "I've been meaning to thank you for that. But I hadn't been able to find your address. You Valkyries are always so secretive about where you live."
I tensed, even more so than I already was, and Oona gasped softly behind me. While we'd been hunting down the draugrs, it hadn't occurred to me that they'd be hunting us.
"You've been looking for me?" Marlow asked calmly.
"How else could I send you a gift of gratitude? Maybe a bouquet of flowers?" Tamerlane mused. "You seem like the kind of woman that would appreciate a few dozen red roses."
"That's very kind but unnecessary," she demurred, opting for flirtatious, even though I knew that she was furious.
"I only recently came back to the city." Tamerlane paused to give her a puzzled look. "How did you know I was here?"
"I didn't," she replied. "It was just serendipity. Why did you come back?"
He smiled slyly. "I thought you might have some regrets about me."
"Now, why would I?" Marlow asked.
"Someone's been looking for me," Tamerlane told her. "I've heard rumors of my name, of people searching for me, and you're about the only ones left alive that knew I hadn't died."
My breath caught in my throat. Asher--in his search to avenge his mother--had brought attention back to us. If he hadn't found me when he did, there was a very good chance Tamerlane would've gotten to us first.
"What about your family?" Marlow asked. "I let you live so you could care for them."
Tamerlane's expression fell, but only for a moment, and he was quick to erase it. "Those are things of the past. I no longer have ties to anything on this earth. My work has become much greater than that."
"And what is your work?" she asked.
"I don't think you'd approve." He grinned. "Or even understand."
Eisheth laughed at that, a hysterical cackle rising deep from within her, as she lay on the bed watching this all unfold with rapt attention.
"Try me," Marlow replied.
"I would really love to catch up with you. Honestly, I would love to hear how you've spent the last four years of your life, while I've been toiling away as a draugr." Tamerlane held his hands up, shrugging helplessly. "But I haven't got the time."
Marlow had moved so she was standing between Tamerlane and the door, blocking his escape, and she was facing me.
"You know I can't let you leave alive," she warned him. "Not again."
"If you really wanted me dead, you had to kill me back then," Tamerlane contradicted her. "Now it's too late."
"We'll see about that."
Sheathed on her hip, my mother's sword began to glow red. It was much duller and muddier than normal, but Marlow reached for it. She pulled it out just as he moved toward her, but it was already too late.
It only took a matter of seconds--Mordare was pointed at Tamerlane, and then he was on Marlow, grabbing her wrist and breaking it with an audible snap. He turned my mother's own sword on her and drove it through her stomach. From where I was standing, I saw her eyes widen with pain and shock, and her mouth hung open.
"No!" I cried out.
Oona wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, trying to hold me back. I began dragging her across the floor as I ran toward Marlow. I screamed as her body started to slip backward, going limp, and I reached for my own sword.
"Tin prostasia mas me to fos sas!" Oona shouted as she held on to me with all her might.
Suddenly the candle flames turned dark purple and exploded around us, throwing me and Oona back against the wall. Eisheth screamed as hot purple smoke filled the room, burning my eyes and lungs. The windows exploded outward, and Oona bent over me, trying to shield me from the flames and glass.
"Eisheth, we leave now!" Tamerlane shouted.
I lifted my head just as the fires went out, and tiny bits of glass were still falling to the floor, like the room was raining glitter. Eisheth grabbed on to Tamerlane, and she ran toward the window, her large wings already flapping, and leapt out into the night.
I scrambled away from Oona, crawling through the smoke and melted wax to where Marlow lay on the floor. Her blood had already begun pooling around her, and Mordare left her stomach glowing red.
"Marlow," I said, brushing back the hair from her face.
A line of blood trailed down from her lips as she stared up at me. Her mouth was moving, but no words came. Her body twitched slightly, like she was having subtle convulsions.
"Marlow, it'll be okay. Just hang on," I told her.
Her back arched, and she stopped trembling. Her eyes changed from dark gray to pure white--no pupil, no color. An inhuman voice came from her mouth, sounding twisted and angry, saying, "Remember that we all must die."
Then she gasped once, and her body collapsed back on the floor. She went limp, and her head lolled to the side.
"Marlow!" I wailed, shaking her as if that would help somehow. Oona had crawled over to my side, and she put her hand on my arm. So I turned to her, screaming, "Help her! Oona, you have to help her!"
"I can't!" Oona said with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mal. But I can't. I can't bring her back from the dead."
"Why didn't you use that spell sooner?" I demanded. "Why didn't you save her?"
"I couldn't." She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It all happened too fast, and I didn't realize until it was too late. I'm sorry."
Then a strange weakness came over me, and I collapsed into her arms, sobbing. Oona stroked my hair, repeating, "I'm so sorry," over and over.
THIRTY-TWO
"Who do we call?" Oona asked, her voice soft and comforting as she gently rubbed my back. My mother's body lay a few feet away from us, and her blood was staining the knees of my jeans. "Mal? Who do we call?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"I don't know what to do," Oona said simply. "Do I call the police? Or ... we can't just stay here with Marlow like this. Tamerlane might come back."
I sat up slowly, and I felt like I was waking from a horrible dream. I hadn't been sleeping, but it still felt like none of this could be real. My eyes were raw from crying, and I rubbed at them as I looked around at the disaster that had become of Eisheth's loft.
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"Who do we call?" I repeated.
"Do you have a number? I can call, if you need me to," Oona offered.
I stood up, thinking that somehow that would make me feel better, and I stumbled over toward the windows. The wind was blowing in, making the curtains billow into the room and letting the amber glow of the city stream in, along with the icy night air.
"Mal?" Oona called after me, sounding worried.
"Samael," I said thickly.
I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and pulled up his number. Then I stood waiting, rubbing my temple and hoping he answered, because I didn't know what to do if he didn't. This was too much of a mess, and I didn't trust anybody else.
"This is Samael," he answered.
"Samael, it's Malin." I sniffled and closed my eyes. "I need you to come down here, and I think we need ... we need a cleanup crew."
"What are you talking about?" Samael asked. "What's going on?"
"Everything went to shit," I said. "And Marlow--" My voice cracked on her name.
"What about Marlow?" Samael asked, and I could already hear the panic edging into his voice.
I let out a shaky breath and finally forced myself to say, "She's dead."
There was a long silence on the line, so long I was afraid the call had been disconnected, but I didn't have the strength to say anything. So I just waited, and finally Samael asked, "Where are you?"
I gave him the address, and he promised to be here as soon as he could. I don't know how long it took him to get here. Maybe five minutes. Maybe an hour. All I knew was that by the time he arrived, the loft had gotten very cold, and Oona was worried that I might get sick. She wanted me to step back from the window, but I wouldn't. I couldn't, and I didn't know how to explain it to her.
And then Samael came, and I don't think I'll ever forget his expression when he saw Marlow. His face went white, his eyes widened, and I don't think he breathed or moved for a long time. The cleanup crew--a group of lower-level angels who took care of this kind of thing--stayed outside the door, and when they asked to come in, Samael barked at them to stay put until he called for them.
As he stared down at my mother, fighting back tears, I think that was the first time I really knew that he was in love with her. I'd known for a while that they had some kind of flirtation, but I could see now, as he realized she was gone ... he was devastated.