Shattered Walls (Seven Archangels Book 3) Read online

  When Mary called a greeting, Zadkiel proudly showed off her work. “I’m very slow,” she said.

  “But she told us about a man named Joseph who got sold as a slave into Egypt and then ended up just like a king!” The youngest giggled. “Have you ever heard that story?”

  “I have,” Mary exclaimed. “Come with me while I make more bread, and you can tell me your favorite parts.”

  Remiel dropped down beside her. “At least a net is something useful,” she said.

  Zadkiel’s nose wrinkled. “You didn’t spend the morning being useless. You spent the morning helping Mary.”

  “She didn’t need me.” Remiel yawned. “Did I tell you we have a visitor?”

  “We’re in the courtyard.”

  “Oh. Right.” Remiel got to her feet. “Later, then. Oh, hello, sir.”

  Zadkiel hesitated, and then came John’s voice, “Hello, Remaya. And Key, is it? Have you met Ignatius?”

  A deeper voice said hello, and then both men went into the house.

  “It’s getting hot,” said one of the girls. “Let’s work inside where it’s cooler.”

  Zadkiel gathered up her net-in-progress, and the middle girl took her by the hand, jolting as she led her with limping strides. They both stumbled over the one step into the house, and they ended up laughing. “I didn’t warn you,” said the girl, and Zadkiel said, “I shouldn’t have leaned on you.”

  They were setting up their work in a corner of the main room when a tumultuous shouting drew closer. Remiel rushed into the room, and Zadkiel grabbed the smallest girl, shoving her into the corner at her back.

  A crowd of men dragged in another man who was screaming in Latin, Aramaic and ancient Sumerian. And what he was screaming—it was all blasphemy, all the most hateful things Zadkiel could have imagined someone shouting about God. “Get back,” she urged the girls, but the man’s ranting swallowed up her voice.

  Remiel pushed up alongside her. In the next moment, John’s voice cut above the man’s raging, and he started ordering repeatedly, “Out of him!” and “In the name of Christ!”

  The hair rose on Zadkiel’s arms.

  “Possessed,” Remiel whispered.

  That much was obvious from the languages alone, but in case that wasn’t enough, the scuffling and thumping told Zadkiel the man had a preternatural strength as well. John was trying to get command over him, and the man reverted to hissing and thrashing.

  “He’s a wreck,” Remiel whispered. “His tunic is torn. It’s taking five men to keep a hold on him.”

  “We was knocking over merchant stalls in the agora,” shouted one of the men, loud enough to be heard over the tumult. “He was threatening you and cursing you by name. We knew he had a demon, so we brought him to the house.”

  Zadkiel whispered, “Belior!”

  Remiel’s hand clenched her arm.

  She’d no idea why she’d said it, but Zadkiel nodded. It felt like him in the way she always felt right when she was Seeking an object and it revealed itself to her.

  The man screeched, and John shouted, “Be silent!”

  A long, long hush followed.

  Shaken, Remiel said, “Girls, come with me. I want you out of here.”

  Zadkiel stood uneasily, unsteady until she heard in her head, I’m with you. I’m Nivalis, said the voice. Remiel didn’t get a chance to tell you before, but I’ve been assigned to you.

  The angelic speech left her a little dizzy, so Zadkiel pressed herself into the wall.

  John’s footsteps moved around the room, and then he said, “Out.” The man howled as a demon left him, and John’s the footsteps continued again. The second demon he cast out sent the man into thrashing convulsions on the tiles, and the men held him down.

  “He’s still got one,” Zadkiel said to herself, and Remiel surprised her by replying, “At least one.”

  Mary’s voice broke through as well. “Are you sure?”

  All these people sneaking up on her, when she was supposed to be a Seeker. Zadkiel tried to get a grip on her frustration. They weren’t sneaking; it was just so noisy with the exorcisms.

  “John needs to hold him down for the last one,” Remiel said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if he kills his host on the way out. This demon’s powerful enough to do it.”

  “John!” Mary’s voice ticked up a notch. “John, wait.”

  Another long quiet passed during which Zadkiel figured John was consulting with Mary. Then she felt a firm hand on her arm. “Mary tells me you recognize the demon. Are you really angels?“

  “All praise to God the Father of our lord Jesus,” said Zadkiel, bowing her head. “Yes, and the demon remaining in him is extremely powerful.”

  John took her hand. “Beloved, God is more powerful still.”

  Zadkiel smiled. “I never doubted it.”

  Remiel said, “But he may do a whole lot of destruction when he comes out. His name is Belior.”

  “The possessed man is a magician. He’s not unknown to me,” John added, “and we’ve debated in the past. It was in his house that a foreign man burned to death yesterday. Maybe that’s when the demon got into him.”

  It was now so quiet that Zadkiel could count John’s footfalls as he walked around the room, and she imagined how it must appear. Multiple strong men would be holding down the possessed magician. He’d fought them the whole way here, but had he really? No, he’d done exactly enough to get into John’s presence.

  John prayed over the demon, who shifted but didn’t cry out.

  Zadkiel whispered, “He’s stuck too.”

  Remiel said, “Do you think so?” And then she gasped. “You’re right. Belior got hit first, but he’s never been in a human form. So he ended up in possession of this soul…” Her hand tightened on Zadkiel’s arm. “No, he ended up in possession of that other man, the foreigner who died. Demons like to throw people into fires, and that guy burned to death. But instead of freeing himself, Belior just got trapped in the next nearest soul that could accommodate him.”

  Dizzy, Zadkiel said, “John has authority to cast out demons, and Belior is betting that John can do the job.”

  “Cherubim are supposed to be smart. Won’t he just get stuck in another host?” Remiel sounded tense. “But he must figure it’s worth the chance. If he doesn’t try this, then nothing changes.” Her voice lowered. “Then what did he do to us? If we’re right, he can’t even figure out how to get himself out of it.”

  John kept praying over the demon, but other than soft whimpers followed by rapid movements and grunts, Zadkiel heard nothing. Then John said, “Out of him!”

  A wind hit the house, and in the kitchen, pottery shattered. Zadkiel hunched down, and Remiel pushed her into the corner, pressing her own body over Zadkiel’s face and chest. The floor shook, and as John shouted, “In the name of Christ Jesus, out of him!” there were popping sounds one after the next, dozens of them. Men shouted warnings, and someone called, “Keep a hold on him!” and John ordered one more time, “You are subject to the name and authority of the Son of God! Leave this man!”

  The possessed man screamed and then pitched up the scream until his throat must have bled. Even with her hands to her ears, Zadkiel cringed at the sound. Eyes clenched, she prayed with tears on her cheeks.

  Finally John shouted, “Enough,” and then silence fell.

  “Is it out?” said one man.

  “It’s still there. Keep holding him.”

  Remiel took Zadkiel by the arm. “We’re following John,” she whispered as she led her out of the room. As they walked, the floor crunched underfoot.

  In the back room, John sounded weary. “Our Lord said some of these only come out with prayer and fasting.”

  Mary sounded urgent. “Our community does plenty of both.”

  Remiel said, “It may be that he can’t come out at all, not for lack of faith but for other reasons.”

  Zadkiel held back while Remiel gave an abbreviated version of their story. Throughout it
all, Ignatius broke in several times to ask questions, shocked and more than a little delighted to be in the presence of a pair of angels. Mary added what information she had, and John finally said, “We can’t turn him loose if he’s already killed a man. The demon is likely to kill the man he’s in now as well, and then the next. If your theory is true, it’s best to keep him here until this resolves.”

  Zadkiel felt John’s hand on hers. “Come, Beloved. Let’s learn how well he can talk.”

  Back in the main room, John said, “Let him sit up. You will answer my questions, and by the authority of Christ’s church you may not lie to me, but you will say nothing other than the answers to my questions.”

  Zadkiel tensed in case the demon struggled, but instead there was no motion, and the demon said nothing.

  John was firm. “Tell me your name.”

  “Belior.”

  The magician’s voice was raspy, as if the demon had torn the man’s throat to shreds in an attempt to scream himself free.

  John said, “How many of you are in there?”

  “Can’t you count to one?” Belior snapped. “You already got rid of all the rest of them.”

  John said, “A number, please.”

  Belior said, “One.”

  John said, “And why haven’t you left this body?”

  “Inconclusive,” Belior said, “My bet would be on incompetent exorcism technique.”

  “I’m not the one who exorcises,” John said. “Christ is. Answer: why haven’t you left this body?”

  Belior said nothing.

  “Answer.”

  “I don’t know.”

  The way Belior spat it out, that admission sounded almost painful.

  John said, “Are you trying to keep him?”

  “No!” That was pure offense, taken to heart. “Keep your foul magician. Do your job. Impress your sycophants and cast out the bad demon.”

  Beside Zadkiel, Remiel started laughing. “Oh, Belior, that’s so sweet! You came to your enemy looking for help?”

  She stepped away from Zadkiel, and the floor crunched beneath her feet. Had Belior shattered the tile floor? Had he brought down the ceiling plaster?

  “You expected John to help you?” Remiel added. “Christ isn’t fooled. Christ knows who you are. And now you get to regret having put yourself into that body in the first place.”

  Belior snapped, “Do you think I wanted to be a monkey like you?”

  “Silence,” John said. “You are forbidden to harm the body you’re in. You’re forbidden to harm anyone in this house or who is under my protection. The man you’re possessing is now under my protection.”

  Belior growled, an animal sound that should never have come from a human throat. The hair stood upright on Zadkiel’s arms, a feeling she’d never experienced before.

  John said, “You will stay on the premises. And,” he added at last, “until you’re given permission to talk, you are to remain silent.”

  Belior didn’t respond. No, he wouldn’t, not now.

  “Tie him up,” John said. “Then carry him to the back room and leave him there.”

  TWELVE

  Feeling Saraquael appear at his back, Michael finished up his work with the guardian angel of Rome, then turned. “Please tell me you’ve got a solution and it’s already in process.”

  Saraquael’s eyes were dull. “I was going to tell you we found Belior.”

  Michael thought a moment. “Okay, that could be good news. Where, and in what condition?”

  “He’s in Ephesus, and he’s in possession of a man I would have wanted on the other side of the city from Remiel and Zadkiel.” Saraquael’s mouth twitched. “By all accounts, it looks as if Belior got trapped in possession of a human soul. We’ve questioned the guardian of that person, and apparently once Belior got sufficient control over his host, he brought the host into Ephesus, to a magician. The magician used a series of amulets to cast him out, and it didn’t work quite as expected. When he was partway out, Belior murdered his host and took up residence in the magician instead.”

  Michael’s eyes widened. “Belior had the authority to kill?”

  “Once the host gives control to the demon, the demon can do pretty much what it likes. This one seems to have given him the seals to a blank contract.” Saraquael shuddered. “At any rate, the magician now has him, except Belior seized complete control and managed to get the attention of the Christian community. The citizens of Ephesus brought him to John, and now Belior’s there.”

  Michael frowned. “In the community’s house?”

  “Not the first place I’d have wanted him, but yes.” Saraquael’s eyes darkened. “He hasn’t recognized Remiel or Zadkiel yet.”

  “Not until the minute Asmodeus enters the building and hears them talking.”

  “They’re aware that they need to be circumspect. Nivalis is now stationed with them.” Saraquael’s head picked up, and some of the teal returned to his eyes. “And Zadkiel is making fishing nets. She’s already learned two kinds of knots, and she’s quite excited about that.”

  “But Belior.” Michael shook his head. “Since he’s in, Asmodeus can get in too.”

  “I don’t doubt it. John’s denied demons permission to enter the building, but he brought one in, and because of the bond, I assume he’s as well as invited in Asmodeus. What he’ll be able to do once he’s inside isn’t entirely clear, but I’m nervous.” Saraquael pulled his wings closer. “I consulted with the interrogation team, and we need you to try again with Hastle.”

  Michael shuddered. “I hope we have a better script than last time.”

  “They’re going to prep you more extensively.” Saraquael shook his head. “I have no way of telling you how little I like this. Hastle is manipulating the situation so well that I’m wondering if he didn’t intend to get captured.”

  “I doubt it, to be honest.” Michael sighed. “He valued his freedom over anything else. That’s why he’s in Hell in the first place.”

  “He’s pretty insistent that he was following Asmodeus in order to forward his own agenda,” Saraquael said, “but has never been clear what that agenda is.”

  “Well,” said Michael, “perhaps we need to find out.”

  Hastle looked annoyed as Michael entered the room, but then he resumed his normal smirk. “You can’t stay away from me, can you?”

  “It’s your magnetic personality.” Michael sighed as if bored. “I’m between jobs and wondered if you felt more like talking.”

  Hastle shrugged. He was in his usual position, seated against the wall, eyes narrow, wings up.

  Michael folded his arms. “You have an agenda. You’ve told me that often enough. You also have information we want. I’d consider a deal with you: we might be willing to help with your undisclosed agenda if you’re willing to give us the currently-undisclosed information.”

  Hastle cocked his head. “Maybe, but how do I know you’d cooperate?”

  “I can’t guarantee anything at this stage.” Michael met Hastle’s eyes, and although the gesture seemed friendly, he used the time to calculate Hastle’s intentions. “Obviously it depends on your goal. If you’re trying to unseat Satan, have at it. If you want to harm the Christian communities, we’re not participating.”

  Hastle rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure I trust you even if you agree.”

  Michael said, “Then we’re at an impasse,” and drew up his wings as if to leave.

  “I didn’t say no.” Hastle leaned back, folding his arms. “Keep talking. Are you offering material support, or you just wouldn’t stand in my way?”

  When Michael hesitated, the Principality member of the interrogation team sent, Lead him on.

  Michael shook his head. “I’m not offering anything specific at the moment, but you understand that if we both want something, there may be a way to meet in the middle.”

  Hastle’s mouth tightened. “Even so. Hey, you didn’t bring your entourage this time. Does that mean you’re soften
ing up?”

  “It means I’d rather you talk than not. I have my own authority to make deals and don’t require the consent of my entourage.” A demon would like that, the whole radical independence thing. “So, your agenda?”

  Hastle’s face changed so he looked warm and eager. “Why are you in such a hurry? If we don’t have a chorus of bystanders here to lecture me, I want to reconnect with you.” He laughed, and his eyes snapped back to ice. “Remember when it was just you and me and Danel? I want that again. How about you bring him over and we reminisce?”

  Absolutely not, sent the Angel.

  Michael said, “How about you and I talk about your agenda?”

  Hastle frowned. “You certainly have an agenda.”

  “You’re wasting my time.”

  “Bring me Danel.”

  Michael didn’t even need a warning from the Principality. “You’re not dictating terms here.”

  Hastle grinned. “Actually, I am.”

  It’s normal for him to try to assert control over the interview, sent the Angel, but we can’t have him involving any more participants.

  Of course not. Michael didn’t even like the fact that he was in there himself. Given a demon’s general slipperiness and their willingness to twist any kind of truth into a weapon, talking to them got more dangerous the longer you did it. If Remiel and Zadkiel hadn’t needed help, he wouldn’t be doing it now.

  The Principality sent, I’m not sure why he wants Danel, but keep the focus on what he wants in the long term rather than catering to the short term. He thinks we need him more than he needs us.

  Michael paced the cell while Hastle watched. And wouldn’t that in some respect be true?

  The Angel sounded uncomfortable for the first time. In some respect. But the situation isn’t as dire for our side as he thinks. He may be playing the long game and counting on us to play shorter, figuring we’ll crumble before he does.

  Ah. That made the strategy a little different, as far as Michael was concerned. Michael tucked his wings closer at his back. “I’ve already said there are some terms I won’t agree to, and you cleverly went and found one of them already.” He rubbed at a speck of lint on one of his flight feathers. “We can do this without you. It might take a little longer, but our Cherubim are reverse-engineering the work of your Cherubim.”