"I'm not going to lie to you, my friends. I'm afraid."
In No Man's Land, a bodega owner locked the front door of his shop. He really couldn't afford not to be open, but he also couldn't afford to be robbed every night either. He used a hook to grab the handle of the metal grating and stepped back to pull it down. He locked it, looked down the street at the kids gathered on the corner, and sighed as he slipped his keys into his front pocket. He picked up the little radio sitting on the ground next to him and turned it up. Gail Finney's radio show was comforting; it let him know that at least someone out there who cared about the way their world was going to hell.
"I'm afraid to leave my apartment at night. I double-lock my doors, and I'm sure you do, too. And it's only been getting worse. I don't want to live in a city where I'm afraid of my neighbors. I don't want to live in a city where I want to carry a gun when I go out to get the newspaper."
The woman looked nervously out the window at the sky. The sun was starting to set. She tapped her foot on the tile of the lobby and began to pace. She could hear Gail Finney's radio show playing over the security guard's radio as she moved in a wide circle. Finally, the elevator bell sounded and two men came out. She breathed a sigh of relief and tried to show them only irritation at their tardiness. The men moved to either side of her, and one held the door for her as they stepped out into the rapidly darkening day. They would walk her home and, more than likely, invite themselves in. She would sleep with them in exchange for getting home safely. And, to be honest, it would be nice to sleep peacefully knowing there were two tough men in the house with her. It was a small price to pay for security.
"How long do we have to wait for the police to do something? How many of you even remember that we have a police force in this town? The only people capable of making a living are criminals. The good people of this town have had enough."
The bell jingled over his brother's head, but the blood was rushing through his ears too loudly for him to hear anything clearly. He couldn't resist looking toward the counter at the old Arab sitting behind the cash register. His brother got a can of soda and carried it up to the counter. He would pay with a twenty, and when the old man opened the register for the change, they would pull their guns. He was shaking, and he heard that lady reporter talking on the radio behind the counter. He thought he heard the cash register open and pulled his gun, but it was too early. The clerk pulled his own gun. The clerk and his brother fired at the same time, and God, there was so much blood he didn't remember to empty the cash register before he ran from the store screaming.
"As if things weren't bad enough, this Angel Maker character is running around killing people. Apparently at random. The police certainly don't have any idea who he is or why he's killing people. So now in addition to everything else happening in No Man's Land, we've got to worry about some madman running up and sticking a knife in our backs."
The car rolled to a stop at the end of the street, and she approached cautiously. Never could be too careful these days. She heard the voice of that reporter lady on his car radio. That was kind of kinky, she thought, like they would have an audience. She slipped her hand into her purse, to the small gun she kept hidden there, as she leaned into the window. He was old, maybe fifty or so. He was nervous when he asked her for the price, and she was calm and considerate and put him at ease. He reached across the seat and unlocked the door. She slipped into the car and he drove into the alley. She remembered her birthday was coming up as he began to touch her. She'd be getting out of this business soon. Sixteen was just way too old to deal with this kind of thing.
"And for you who will ask me if I hate this town so much, why don't I leave it? To that, I reply with something we couldn't play over the radio. This is my town, folks. This is where I want to live, and I'm not going to abandon it because of the lazy sons of bitches who are wearing badges. I'm going to fight for my town, because I happen to love it. And if you love it, too, you won't stand idly by while the criminals and the drug dealers and the whores are taking over the street."
He kept the knife in his pocket as he left the building. The man in the courtyard behind him looked almost peaceful. His hands were at his sides, palm-up. A pair of red wings spread across the stone path as if they were sprouting from his back. The Angel Maker paused and looked up at the sky as the last traces of day faded and night took over. He smiled, crossed the street, and headed for home.
"This has been Gail Finney. I want to remind you to check out my reports every morning in The Ledger. Stay safe, folks. If you can."
* * *
Gillian picked up one of the newspapers on the table and almost immediately dropped it again. "Oh, God. Do you really need to bring that trash into the house?"
"Sorry," Riley said. She looked up from the article she had been reading and moved the paper Gillian had dropped. "Know thy enemy. I'm only reading up on her because Priest is positive she's my opposite number. The demons are using her to pull the town deeper into No Man's Land."
Gillian was still in her robe, her hair up following her shower. When she sat, the material draped and Riley was treated to an alluring peek at the curve of her left breast. She closed the paper so that Gail's article wasn't visible.
"I worry that you're poisoning your brain with this crap." She picked up a paper and flipped it open. "I can't even listen to her radio show for five minutes without wanting to punch her in the damn mouth."
"There's a fight I'd pay to see," Riley said. "I'm still trying to figure out how complicit she is in the whole mess. Is she saying these things because someone pushed her in the right direction, or was she already like this and the demons just latched onto her for their own purposes?"
"Does it matter?"
"If she's a puppet, there's a chance she can be saved."
Gillian nodded and flipped her paper to another page. "Ah, Garfield. Never controversial."
Riley smiled and pushed her hair out of her face as she read the rest of Gail's latest article. She reported on news stories, but she also had a small editorial space on the back page where she could rant to her heart's content under the freedom of the press banner. Riley didn't know why the paper wasted the space; her articles were full of backhanded comments and jabs at the police department. The department had sued on more than one occasion, but the cases only seemed to make her stronger and more popular.
Riley leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I need a break."
Gillian put down her paper and stood up. She walked behind Riley's chair and began to massage her shoulders. "Maybe I could go make you a nice bubble bath. You could soak and I'll rub your feet. And higher, maybe." She bent down and kissed the top of Riley's head.
Riley turned her head and kissed Gillian's arm. "You know how amazing that sounds."
"But you need to research some more," Gillian said. There was no reproach in her voice. She knelt down and kissed Riley's neck and cheek. "All right. I'm going to bed. I'll see you in there in half an hour or I'm coming to find you."
"I'll be in soon, promise." She turned her head and kissed Gillian's lips. Gillian gave Riley's shoulders another squeeze before she walked away. Riley watched her go down the hall to the bedroom, already lamenting the loss of her combined bath and massage. But as appealing as it sounded, she couldn't just ignore Gail Finney.
Since discovering there was a champion working for the demons, the knowledge nagged at the back of Riley's mind. Everyone she met, everyone she read about in the paper, she couldn't help wondering if they were the one. Now that she knew who it was, she couldn't drag her feet. If she could prove that Gail was an unwilling pawn then there was a chance she could turn her into a double agent. She and Priest could show her what was really at stake, and turn her into a weapon for the good guys.
But if she already knew everything, Riley wasn't sure what the next step would be. She couldn't arrest someone for collaborating with demons. Even if she was sure the entire police department would back her up for arresting Gail Finney, she wouldn't fabricate evidence to do it. So what did that leave, murder? She wouldn't kill in cold blood, but if Gail discovered Riley was working with the angels it might come down to self-defense. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She had killed in self-defense before, but the faces of those people - especially Sweet Kara - still haunted her daily.
She checked the kitchen clock and saw she had been staring into space for twelve minutes. She gathered her papers and put them into her bag, stretched, and turned out the lights in the kitchen. She locked the front door and undressed on her way to the bedroom, dumping her clothes into the hamper as she passed.
Gillian was curled on her side, and Riley slipped under the covers and spooned against her from behind. Gillian lifted her head from the pillow and said, "Good girl."
"What?" She kissed Gillian's shoulder.
"I said half an hour. That used to mean I wouldn't see you for forty-five minutes."
Riley put her hand on Gillian's stomach and pulled her closer. "I just had to remember what was waiting for me."
Gillian rolled onto her back and pulled Riley to her. They kissed, hands roaming under the blanket. Angels and demons and champions, Heaven and No Man's Land and Hell, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the woman underneath her. As long as she could keep that in mind, she would be just fine.
Gillian broke the kiss and brushed her lips over Riley's cheek. "So, is it too late for the bath and massage?"
"Never," Riley said. "I'll run the water."
* * *
Riley was standing in a basement, her clothes drenched from the downpour. She was walking in ankle deep water, gun in hand. She recognized the basement, but the dimensions were all wrong. It was the basement of Fielder's Choice, the bar where she had her run-in with Gail Finney a week earlier, but it was blown far out of proportion. The walls seemed to be a mile away, the water slowly rising up her legs. She moved toward the shelves where she had found Gail hiding in real life. The light coming from up the stairs shifted and changed colors. Darkening and brightening and then shifting from yellow to red to blue.
There was movement in the corner, just as in real life. Riley knew it was Gail even in the dream, but she wanted to believe it was the Angel Maker. She tightened her hands around the butt of her weapon, feeling the comforting texture of the plastic grip against her palm.
Gail was still in the shadows, a featureless silhouette. Then she smiled, and her teeth appeared floating above the darkness like she was the Cheshire cat.
"Do you think you'll get away with it?" Gail asked.
"I'm the police," Riley said. "I can get away with anything." She opened fire.
Gail's body was suddenly awash with the light from the discharge, thrown back against the wall. Everything was suddenly gunfire and blood, the water still rising around Riley's legs. She stepped forward and stood over Gail's corpse. She took aim again and emptied the clip into the reporter's crumpled form. Her gun didn't click empty for a long time, being a dream, and she was able to unload to her heart's content. When she finally dropped her arm, the room stank of copper and sulfur, and Riley smiled.
* * *
Riley jerked as something touched her face, recoiling away from the contact. It took her a moment to realize the water around her was from the faucet, and she was lying in the bathtub. Gillian was sitting on the edge, brushing the back of her hand over Riley's cheek. Riley closed her eyes and sagged against the smooth edge of the tub.
"Hey, it's only me," Gillian said softly. "You fell asleep."
Riley pushed her hands through her hair, smoothing it against her skull. "Yeah. Nightmare, I guess."
"I guess," Gillian said. "Want to talk about it?"
"No," Riley said. She could still see Gail's body jerk as the bullets entered it, and she remembered the satisfaction of pulling the trigger. It was far too vivid to revisit even with Gillian. "Help me out of here. Let's go to bed."
"Do you want me to towel you off?"
"Yes, please."
Gillian wrapped Riley in a towel before she bent down to drain the bath. When she straightened, Riley cupped her face and kissed her.
"Mm. What was that for?"
"For being there when I woke up."
Gillian smiled. "Well, I plan to earn more of those kisses."
"Good," Riley said. She kissed Gillian again, letting the kiss linger before she pulled back and said, "Let's go to bed." She put her hand in Gillian's and led her into the bedroom.
* * *
Riley spent the morning following up on witness reports from the previous Angel Maker murders. She was on the phone with Father Denis when she glanced up and saw Gillian crossing the room. Gillian's presence on their floor wasn't unusual in and of itself, but her expression gave Riley pause. Gillian caught Riley's gaze and she offered a wan smile before she gestured at Lieutenant Briggs' door. Riley mouthed, "Everything okay?" and Gillian shrugged.
Riley leaned back in her chair and watched Gillian knock on the door. Briggs called her inside, and Gillian ducked into the office and shut the door behind her.
When Riley finished her call, Priest said, "What was that about?"
Riley looked towards Briggs' office again. "I don't know."
The lieutenant's door opened and Briggs leaned out. "Parra. Priest." She hooked a thumb over her shoulder and went back into her office. Riley glanced at Priest before she stood up. Gillian was standing to one side of the desk with her hands clasped behind her back. She was in blue scrubs, her hair pulled back in a loose knot, and she looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.
"We have a problem," Briggs said as she walked around her desk. She took a seat and said, "I'll let Dr. Hunt explain."
Gillian was sitting in front of the desk and turned in her seat to face the detectives. "A body was brought in last night, found dead in the courtyard of an apartment building. No one in the initial sweep of the building recognized him, and he didn't have any ID. Uniforms thought that it was a mugging, so it got sent to Robbery. I was doing the autopsy when I noticed something strange." She handed a file to Riley, their fingers brushing on the hand-off.
Riley flipped open the cover and looked at the autopsy report. "Cause of death was blood loss from multiple knife wounds."
"All the wounds were inflicted on the victim's back, despite the fact he was found face-up. No defensive marks." Riley looked up. "But no wings?"
Gillian shook her head. "The body was found at five-thirty this morning lying on a cobblestone path in the garden. Based on preliminary reports he had been dead for at least four hours. The building has lawn sprinklers set to go off at four-thirty every morning. The body and the entire scene got doused. It screwed up time of death determination for a while."
Riley said, "The wings may have been washed away."
Gillian nodded. "That's what I was thinking."
Briggs said, "I've asked Dr. Hunt to confirm the weapon is the same one used in the previous murders, and Robbery is transferring the case up to us. But far as anyone outside this office is concerned, this is not an official Angel Maker case. I'm sick of Gail Finney and her fucking radio show insinuating we're not doing our job protecting the people of this town."
"Insinuating?" Riley said under her breath.
"I want results, Detective Parra. We have four victims now."
"Yes, ma'am," Riley said.
Briggs said, "Dismissed."
Riley held the door for Gillian and Priest before she followed them out. She shut the door and said, "Results. It's not like we have any new information. The victim is a John Doe."
Gillian said, "I'm told the police are still canvassing the neighborhood. You'll get his identity eventually."
"Thanks," Riley said. She touched Gillian's elbow and said, "Great catch."
"All that time with you must have paid off. I'm Quincy now." She touched Riley's arm and said, "I should head back down. Stay safe."
"I'll see you later," Riley said. She watched Gillian go and then took her things off her desk. She motioned for Priest to do the same. Robbery Division was one floor down, just above the morgue. "Come on. Let's go see what the robbery guys have for us."
Priest followed Riley to the stairs. "I've been considering the situation with Gail Finney."
"Yeah, me too. I don't like our prospects."
"It can be difficult," Priest said.
Riley put up a hand to stop Priest on the landing. She lowered her voice and stepped closer to Priest so she could hear. "You've done this before, right? I mean, not you personally. But I'm not the first champion, and I'm sure Gail Finney isn't their first. Have the champions for good and evil ever gone head to head before?"
Priest looked toward the ground floor as if she expected help. "It's been known to happen. Usually they exist separately and never interact. They operate within set circles."
"Well, I don't think we can hope for that in our case. What has happened in the past?"
"They killed each other."
Riley blinked. "Every time?"
"Yes. In 1898, 1919, 1940, and 1971. The circumstances that bring two champions together are extremely volatile and usually coincide with great unrest on the physical plane. You set in motion a war the likes of which hasn't been seen in centuries. In 1919, the cause was the massive death toll of the flu pandemic. In 1940, it was the atrocities of the Holocaust." She sighed and leaned against the wall. "I admit I saw this coming as soon as you drove the car into Marchosias' building. I tried to..." She shook her head. "It's not use talking about it now. The important thing is to prevent an all-out catastrophe."
"I should just let it go?"
"I didn't say that," Priest said. "Focus on the Angel Maker. Focus on Marchosias. Maybe things will calm down. Just because you know her identity doesn't necessarily mean you have to do anything about it. If you manage to stop Marchosias their champion will be powerless. Cutting off the head kills the body."
"But if evil loses their champion, what happens?"
Priest shrugged. "Perhaps détente. But only if good loses their champion, too." She put her hands on Riley's shoulders. "If you're considering a sacrifice, it would be a stupid decision."
Riley brought her hands up and gently pushed Priest's arms away. "I'm not going to commit suicide. If I get backed into a corner and there's no way out, it'll be good to know something good can come from me dying. But I would never harm myself. For one thing, you'd be out of a job."
"It doesn't work like that," Priest said softly. "I just don't want to see you hurt. And if you think you're going to leave me behind to comfort Gillian..."
Riley said, "There. That's why you never have to worry about me killing myself."
Priest nodded and said, "Good."
Riley looked around to make sure no one had overheard their exchange. "Come on. The jerks down in Robbery are probably waiting for us."
* * *
Riley tossed aside the crime scene photos with disgust. She thought the other Angel Maker sites had been light on evidence, but this time the sprinklers had destroyed anything remotely useful. Halfway through reading the report, Gillian called up to let them know the knife wounds were a definite match. It was their boy, without a doubt.
Riley took the confirmation as an excuse to leave the report and visit the crime scene. She and Priest arrived a little before noon to find the crime scene tape was still blocking off the courtyard. The space was bordered by four walkways that opened out onto the garden through a series of stone archways. Paths of gray stone wound through the grass, circling rosebushes and willow trees. Riley ducked under the tape and walked to where the body had been found.
"Another public killing," she said. She pointed at the windows overhead. "Anyone could have looked down and seen him making his art."
"Robbery canvassed the building and didn't find any witnesses," Priest said.
Riley nodded and knelt to look at the stones. She couldn't see any blood between the cracks in the stones, but that didn't mean it wasn't there.
The north side of the courtyard faced the street. Riley assumed that was where the Angel Maker came in. It was strange that no one seemed to recognize their victim. If he wasn't a resident, what was he doing in the courtyard at one in the morning? The building didn't have security, but it was in a nice enough area that they didn't have to worry about drug dealers wandering through their garden.
"What do you think?" Priest asked.
"I think coming here to forget my frustration was a bad idea." She stood and stretched. "Are there any residents that the uniformed cops didn't get in touch with?"
Priest took out her notebook and checked. "Three on the first floor, and one on the third."
"Three on One and one on Three," Riley said. "I like the symmetry. Might as well check them out."
The foyer was dark, lit only by the windows on either side of the door. They crossed the black and white tile floor to the stairs, and Riley looked over her shoulder as they started up. "Just so you know, I might try to catch a nap in the break room when we get back."
"Aren't you sleeping well?"
"Not bad," Riley said. "But the past couple of nights, I've been having these nightmares."
"For how long?"
"About a week, in fact," Riley said. "Since you told me about Gail Finney. Why? Is that a symptom of two champions meeting?"
Priest hesitated before she answered. "How bad are the dreams?"
"I'd say a six, maybe a seven on the scale of the worst I've ever had."
Priest said, "I don't think so. I've never heard of a psychological aspect. It could be that it's just never been mentioned."
Riley looked at Priest's notes and went to the first apartment. "I'll keep you apprised. At the very least, it'll be good information for my replacement."
"I don't like those kinds of jokes, Riley."
"Yeah, but if I only did your kind of humor, I'd be stuck with knock-knock jokes. Do you have the picture of the victim?"
The apartment door opened and Riley showed the woman her badge. "Good afternoon, ma'am. We're investigating a murder that occurred here last night. We were hoping you could help us."
* * *
Riley changed into a pair of sweatpants and a light blue T-shirt with the number 8 on the back. She warmed up a glass of milk and drank it at the sink, staring at her reflection in the front of the microwave. She finished the milk, rinsed out the glass, and turned out the overhead light as she crossed to the bedroom. Gillian had called to say she had to do a rush autopsy for another case, so she was going to stay late. Riley reluctantly agreed, and even more reluctantly prepared to go to bed alone. It was far too familiar, reminiscent of the previous year when Gillian had left town. Riley didn't like remembering those nights.
She left the hall light on so Gillian would be able to see when she got in, and crawled under the blankets. She pulled Gillian's pillow to her chest and sighed, breathing in the scent of her lover. She hoped the smell would translate to her subconscious and bring nothing but good dreams, dreams about Gillian rather than the nightmares she had been having. She tossed and turned for a few minutes, turned on the radio so she wouldn't feel so alone, and finally fell asleep.
* * *
Gillian was dancing.
Riley sat on the edge of the bed in a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and watched as Gillian moved in the spotlight. The rest of the room was hazy, filled with smoke. Gillian wore a dress Riley had never seen before; it was pale blue, backless, and the movement of her muscles was hypnotic. When she turned, Riley saw that the gown was cut low in the chest and high on the hip. Her legs scissored underneath the material as she moved toward Riley. Her hips swayed. The music grew more raucous, a wild rockabilly song with guitars that sounded almost like screams as Gillian extended a hand to Riley.
"Come on, Diablo!" the singer yelled, and Riley was pulled from her seat. She held Gillian, their eyes locked, and they began to tango.
The dance was inappropriate to the music, but they didn't seem to care. Riley tore her eyes from Gillian and kissed her hard. Gillian returned the kiss with hunger, thrusting her tongue into Riley's mouth. Riley ran her hands down Gillian's bare back, and Gillian ran her hands over the crisp material of Riley's shirt.
One of Gillian's hands slipped between them, down to Riley's crotch. She squeezed and Riley suddenly became aware that she was wearing their strap-on. They didn't use it much, and Gillian always preferred for her to wear it. Riley groaned as Gillian's hand traced the shaft through her pants, and she thought she could actually feel the touch on flesh. Of course, since it was a dream, maybe she could...
Gillian moved her lips to Riley's ear and nipped at the lobe. Riley began to lift Gillian's gown, the rational part of her mind wondering if Gillian would want to recreate the dream when she got home. She could see herself explaining every detail, right down to the color of stockings Gillian was wearing in the dream.
Gillian pressed her lips against Riley's ear and whispered in a low, throaty voice: "Did you think it would be that easy?"
Riley smiled. "Do I have to work for it, sweetheart? Do you want me to beg?"
"Not that," Gillian said. Her voice was odd, sultry but at the same time like nails pressing against the base of Riley's skull. "Your angel. Did you really think she was that powerful?"
Riley leaned back. Gillian's hand was still on her crotch, rubbing, pushing her arousal to the edge. Gillian held tight, didn't let her retreat. Her eyes were dark, but at the same time seemed to glow from within. She smiled, and Riley was inexplicably sickened by the sight of it. Blood red lips pulling away from gleaming white teeth.
"Did you think she could just kick me out of such a perfect body? Did you think I would let her?"
"You're the Duchess," Riley hissed. She wanted to get away. Wanted to run.
Hands tightened on Riley's body, keeping her from escaping. "I want you to call me that when you fuck me."
Riley struggled, but the demon's grip was too strong. Riley realized her hand was on Gillian's hip, the flesh warm under her hand, but she couldn't seem to pull it away.
"I went away to learn how to be her. To learn how to fool everyone. And it worked. None of you, not even your pathetic angel, knows the truth. And your tattoo! You thought you were protecting me. It was all I could do not to laugh in your face. When you branded me with that mark, you locked me inside. You locked me inside your girlfriend. Forever." She bit Riley's earlobe until blood trickled down Riley's neck. "What are you going to do about it?"
Riley managed to get away when Gillian, the demon, the Duchess, and howled in pain and anger and frustration. The body was so familiar, but suddenly the eyes were completely inhuman. The mess of red hair looked like flames, tangles rising up like horns above her inhuman yellow eyes. Riley's body was electric, her muscles throbbing. She stepped forward, took a handful of the Duchess' hair, and yanked her head back. She kissed her hard, thrusting her tongue forward, and forced the Duchess to her knees.
"Give her back to me," Riley growled when she broke the kiss.
"Take her from me."
The blue dress ripped when Riley pulled it, and she used her superior weight to pin the Duchess to the floor. She managed to get her trousers open and she gripped the hot flesh inside. The Duchess spread her legs, her eyes wild, and she lifted her head to return Riley's kiss. She bit down, and blood flooded both of their mouths. Riley shoved the Duchess' legs apart and growled as she thrust inside and began to fuck her.
* * *
Riley woke just before gravity pulled her off the edge of the bed. She was trembling, freezing, and she rolled onto her hands and knees seconds before the first convulsion came. She went to the window and fumbled with the lock, pushing it up just before she threw up. Tears burned her eyes, her body trembling as she clutched the windowsill. She hung half out of the apartment, her eyes locked on the fire escape as she emptied her stomach and then began to dry heave.
She dropped back into the apartment and pressed herself into the corner. She drew her knees to her chest, pressed both fists against her eyes, and trembled, sobbing.
Riley heard sounds outside the bedroom door, but she didn't react to them until she heard footsteps in the hall. She crossed her arms over her knees and pressed her face into the crook of her elbow. Snapshots of the nightmare scrolled through her mind and she started crying again.
"Honey, I'm home," Gillian said. The last word was punctuated by Gillian's bag hitting the floor with a hollow thud. Then she was on her knees by Riley's side, holding her, rocking her back and forth, whispering into her hair until the crying stopped.
* * *
Riley sat at the kitchen table and stared toward the window. Her fingers were still tapping against the tabletop when Gillian set a cup down in front of her. "I found some ginger ale. It'll settle your stomach," she said softly. She brushed Riley's hair and pulled a chair over to sit beside her. Riley turned her head toward Gillian's hand to brush her lips over her palm, and wrapped both hands around the cup.
After a few minutes, Gillian said, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," Riley said. "I can't."
Gillian nodded. She took one of Riley's hands and held it, running her hand across the knuckles. After a moment, Riley squeezed her hand.
"Must have been a bad one."
"Yeah," Riley said. She took a sip of the ginger ale and licked her lips.
Gillian leaned in to kiss her, but Riley pulled away at the last second. Gillian withdrew and looked into Riley's eyes. "Was it about me?"
"No," Riley lied. "I just need a little time."
"Okay," Gillian said. "Do you want me to stay up with you?"
Riley shifted in her seat and said, "No. I'm not going back to bed tonight."
"Riley..."
"I'm sorry, Jill. But if I close my eyes, I keep seeing..." She shuddered and involuntarily squeezed Gillian's hand. "I'm sorry. I need to go talk to Priest. I need to get my head on straight."
Gillian brought Riley's hand to her lips and kissed it. "I understand. Do what you have to do. But if you come back, don't just crash on the couch. I want to see you."
"You need to sleep, too."
"I'd rather know you're okay." She stood up and kissed Riley's temple. "Go see Priest. Feel better. I've never seen you like this, and it scares the hell out of me."
Riley turned toward Gillian and hugged her around the waist. "I'll be fine. I just need a little time. I think I'll take a walk and clear my head."
"Okay. Call me if you need a ride or any... just call me."
Riley stood up, slipping both hands into Gillian's. She kissed her lips, tentatively at first but with growing passion. Gillian held Riley's hands and returned the kiss, eyes closed though she knew Riley's were still open. When they parted, Riley pressed her cheek to Gillian's and said, "I may be doing that a lot in the next couple of days. Just to forget."
"Anything I can do to help," Gillian said. She kissed Riley's earlobe and tried to ignore the shudder that ran through Riley's body. She pulled back and said, "I mean it. Anything."
Riley touched Gillian's face and nodded before she turned and left the kitchen. Gillian saw that Riley's mostly full glass of ginger ale was still sitting on the table. She took a drink herself and put the rest in the fridge for in the morning. When she turned off the kitchen light, she heard the front door open and close as Riley went out into the night.
* * *
Riley didn't walk directly to Priest's apartment. She meandered down side streets, trying to rid the images of her nightmare from her brain. She saw people on the sidewalk, silhouettes cut away from the shadowed alleys. Twice, she heard footsteps falling in behind her and twice she casually took her gun from her belt and noisily cocked it. Both times her tails quickly disappeared, absorbed back into the night while they waited for an easier target.
Riley remembered walking the streets of No Man's Land when she was a kid. It was a miracle she survived those reckless excursions.
The church Priest lived above was quiet, and Riley tried to remember if she'd ever seen it closed before. She was under the impression they were on some kind of perpetual worship mission. She walked past the dark storefront and went up the dark stairs. The shadows in Priest's building felt different than those outside, somehow less ominous. She felt at ease there, despite the fact it was even darker than the streets she had just walked. Probably a benefit from having an angelic tenant.
She knocked on Priest's door and stuffed her hands into her pockets. The memory of her dream still weighed on her mind and on her soul. She knew the Duchess had been exorcised. There was no doubt in her mind that the woman she loved wasn't an imposter. She looked down the stairs, paced in a tight circle, and then knocked again. She knew Priest had taken the plunge and bought furniture. Maybe she was trying sleep as well.
Riley was about to knock a third time when she heard movement inside. The door opened without the delay of a bunch of locks being undone and Priest stared out at her. Her hair was wet, and she wore a faded Wonder Woman T-shirt and sweatpants. Riley was stunned by the sight; she'd never seen her partner looking quite so... human.
"Riley. Are you okay?"
"Not really," Riley said. "I need to talk."
Priest nodded and leaned against the doorframe. "Okay. Sure."
"Can I come in?"
Priest hesitated. "I don't..."
"I'm not in the mood, Caitlin," Riley said. She pushed the door open and brushed past Priest. The apartment was immaculate, as always, and Riley shrugged out of her jacket. "I really need some... I don't know. Guidance or an explanation." She tossed her jacket on the couch and noticed that another jacket was already lying there. Riley frowned at it and slowly turned to face Priest. "Who's here?"
"What? No one." Priest crossed her arms over her chest and inadvertently glanced toward the bedroom.
Riley looked down the short hallway and then back at Priest. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk. There's an all-night diner..."
Riley put Priest's wet hair, tossed-on clothes, and delayed response to the door together. She looked at the Wonder Woman shirt and realized why it had been so odd to see it on her partner. "That's not your shirt."
Priest looked down at herself and, while she was distracted, Riley walked down the hall to the closed bedroom door.
"Riley, wait. You shouldn't..."
Riley opened the bedroom door and stepped inside.
Priest had a queen-size bed on the opposite wall from the door, flanked on either side by night tables. The sheets and blankets were a tangled mess, two of the pillows lying on the floor. Riley had expected to see Kenzie Crowe lying on the mattress, since she remembered the T-shirt from their time as a couple, but seeing Chelsea Stanton spooning behind her was a complete shock. Both women were undisturbed by Riley's entrance, and Priest gently pulled Riley back into the hall. She shut the door and guided Riley back to the living room.
"What the hell?" Riley hissed.
"It isn't as it appears."
"The phrase is 'it's not what it looks like.' And it's pretty hard to misinterpret."
Priest sat on the back of the couch and said, "I am not physically involved with either of them. A few weeks ago, when Kenzie asked for our help with Kimaris, I overcame my animosity for her." Riley scoffed, but Priest ignored it. "Something I never told you was that she and I... were intimate during that time."
"You were..."
Priest hushed her and glanced toward the bedroom. "We kissed. Twice. The first time was merely subterfuge during the stakeout. But I enjoyed it immensely. I had never been kissed before. I was curious. So I kissed her again, on the rooftop while you and Chelsea were speaking with the police. After that, we met twice for coffee. She told me she had finally admitted her feelings to Chelsea following the ordeal in the warehouse."
Riley shook her head. "This is unbelievable. How does that end with them naked in your bed?"
Priest blushed and looked toward the window. "I was curious. I've been curious for a while about human sexuality. I see the way you are with Gillian, and it's so radically different from how you are with anyone else. It intrigued me. So I... I asked if... I could... watch."
Riley suddenly wondered if she was having another dream, but she didn't think she would ever have come up with something as bizarre as this. She rubbed her temples and shook her head as she brushed past Priest. "All right. Forget it. I still need to talk to you."
Priest took a long coat out of the closet and pulled it on over her T-shirt and sweats. Riley left the apartment, halfway down the stairs before Priest came outside after her.
When they got to the street, Priest looked both ways as she buttoned her coat. "Where did you park?"
"I walked. This way."
They started walking, Priest hanging back to let Riley lead the way. When they reached the corner without saying anything, Priest touched Riley's arm. "I want to apologize. Kenzie is your former partner, in both senses of the word. I should have consulted you--"
"Just shut up, Z, okay? There's no need to apologize," Riley said. "I'm just having a really bad night."
"Are you sure? You look very pale."
Riley said, "That has nothing to do with what happened back there. I dreamt..." She found she couldn't even say the words. "Nightmare doesn't even begin to cover it. Night terror comes closer."
"In Latin, night terrors are called pavor nocturnus."
"That fits better," Riley said. She exhaled and said, "I don't want to tell you what it was about. But I have to know if the demons are capable of affecting me this way. Can they affect dreams?"
"Perhaps," Priest said. "It would take a concentrated effort, though. And your protection, even dampened by sharing it with Gillian, would likely make it extraordinarily difficult for them to influence you."
"What about Gail Finney? Could she have helped them get a lock, or whatever?"
Priest said, "No. Unless you willingly took her personal property and held it for a prolonged period." Riley stopped walking and Priest turned to look at her. "What?"
"Finney. When I caught her at the crime scene, she had a little voice recorder. I took it from her."
"Oh," Priest said. "That's a bad thing. How long was it in your possession?"
"Less than a day," Riley said. "It was in my desk most of the time."
Priest shook her head. "That doesn't matter. You took it from her willingly. It was enough to create an imprint on you." She lifted her chin and seemed to be looking at the rooftops for a moment. After she had a chance to think, she looked back at Riley. "The mara locked on with that."
"Mara?"
"They're creatures of folklore. It's where the original phrase nightmare originated. They were believed to be the bringer of bad dreams. In reality, they're service demons. They have little to no cognitive ability of their own. They live to follow orders. Someone, I'm assuming whoever is acting as Gail's handler, locked onto you using her voice recorder."
"All right, so how do we stop it?"
"The imprint will wear off in a week or two," Priest said. "The easiest--"
Riley said, "No way. There's no way I'm suffering through a week of this."
Priest said, "If you know they're dreams..."
"I raped and killed Gillian," Riley said, barking the words. Her hands were trembling as she said the words, the bile rising in her throat. "I can't get it out of my head, Caitlin. I can't possibly go back to sleep knowing that the memory is there, and knowing that whoever is playing with me is going to try again. And they'll only get worse, right?"
Priest looked down at her feet. "I am so sorry, Riley. I had no idea."
Riley turned away from Priest, She could feel tears in her eyes as she scanned the street. "I could barely look at her. She was trying to comfort me, and all I could see was that..." She trembled and closed her eyes. "I need to make it stop."
"It would require killing the mara that has you in its thrall," Priest said.
"Good. Fine. Let's go find the bitch and kill it. Could you find it?"
Priest looked like she wanted to lie, but she said, "Yes, theoretically. They like water, and they would need a large space for their hellhounds to roam. Any of the abandoned buildings on the waterfront would suffice. But it's not as simple as finding and killing it. The mara are protected by hellhounds. They are ghastly abominations who have torn angels to shreds for sport. There's a chance you would be successful if you caught them off-guard, but it's comparable to attempting to drive through the base of a tornado. Theoretically possible, but suicide in practice."
Riley rubbed her temples. Something Priest had said about the waterfront rang a bell, but she couldn't put it together. Her mind was too noisy, too occupied with trying to avoid remnants of the painfully fresh dream. "I can't do this, Priest. If I have to wait out fourteen nights of this, I'll... put a gun in my mouth by the weekend."
"Riley..."
"Never mind. Sorry I bothered you with this. Go back to your orgy." She turned and started walking away. She shoved her hands into her pockets, ducked her chin against her chest, and refused to look back to see if Priest was following her.
* * *
Riley pushed aside the gate marked with the sign for Mara Properties and left her car on the driveway. She had her gun, and she'd gone home to change into something more appropriate to what she was going to do. The leather jacket buttoned at the throat, and she wore a bulletproof vest on top of it. She checked her gun, a Glock 18 with a 33-round magazine. She had two more magazines in her back pocket.
The building loomed in front of her, the moonlight turning the few unbroken windows into pools of quicksilver. She could smell the waterfront as she crossed the cracked pavement, her muscles tight and ready to take action. She couldn't take another dream like the one that was still clawing at her mind.
She heard movement from above and immediately dropped into a defensive position. She brought the gun up and followed the movement as Priest landed effortlessly a few feet away from her. She had changed into a dress shirt and slacks, but there was no tie and her top button was undone. She kept her wings visible, stretched wide as she looked up at the building. Her face was drawn with anger, her movements quick and precise as she checked her own Glock. She looked up at Riley and said, "You're insane."
"It has to end tonight," Riley said. "Thank you for backing me up."
"I'm not backing you up," Priest said. There were tears in her eyes as she moved toward the building. "If you insist on doing this, then I'm the only hope you have of succeeding here." At the door, she turned to Riley and said, "I want you to know something before we go in there. I love you. Everything I do, I do it for your benefit and because of that love."
Riley wanted to return the sentiment, but she'd never felt the kind of love Priest was talking about. Her father was barely a person in her life, and she'd never known her mother. Fortunately, Priest didn't seem to expect any kind of reciprocation. They moved to either side of the door and waited until Priest nodded that she was ready. She took a steadying breath and then tried the doorknob. It was unlocked, and she pushed the door open. She had a flashlight in one hand, bringing it up to shine the beam alongside her gun. When nothing stepped out to rush them, she nodded at Priest.
Priest flexed her wings and pulled them in just enough to fit through the door. Riley followed her into the darkness. Her beam played across the furniture of a prefabricated office, the thin walls erected to cut the space off from the rest of the warehouse. After determining the office was empty, Riley nodded for Priest to continue through the door to the main office. Riley caught a glimpse of Priest's weapon and a thought occurred to her.
"Why didn't you bring a sword? Samael and the others, they all have swords."
"Hellhounds and Mara are trained against angelic swords. They are more vulnerable to human weapons," Priest whispered.
"Convenient."
The warehouse was deathly still. The windows let in enough light for Riley to see the outline of stairs stretching toward the ceiling, and the hulking forms of machinery all around them. They were nearly to the middle of the room when Priest stopped walking. Her wings seemed to be illuminated, each feather casting a halo around her.
Priest suddenly tensed, her head rising a fraction as she scanned the room around them. There was a tremor in her voice when she spoke, not bothering to stay quiet now. "Riley. Run."
"I'm not going--"
Priest spun, true anger in her eyes, and yelled, "Riley, my job is to keep you alive. Even at the cost of my own life. You'll get a new angel to protect you. This is what I was sent to do. So run, Riley, please."
Before Riley could argue, a black shape separated itself from the rest of the darkness and launched silently at Priest's back. She turned at the last second and fired twice, her bullets digging trenches deep into the creature's face. Its charge halted, it fell to the ground in a tangle of limp muscles. The creature looked nothing like a dog, as Riley expected from the name, but more like a Brahma bull with a bulldog's face. Priest flexed her wings to their full span as two more of the massive hellhounds appeared.
"Priest..." Riley said.
"Go, Riley!" Her voice echoed off the corners of the room.
"Take this!"
Riley threw her gun, and Priest caught it without looking. With a gun in each hand, the glow from Priest's wings seemed to intensify. It created a spotlight effect in the middle of the room, shining a white light on the machinery near Priest's position. The hounds shied away from the edge of the light, but Riley knew was only a temporary deterrent to their attack.
Riley turned and reluctantly ran from the building. She slammed her shoulder against the door of the office, shamed with her retreat even as she shoved through the outer door and ran into the brisk night air. Her feet sounded like hollow slaps as she ran back to her car, heart pounding in her chest, her body breaking out in a cold sweat. She threw open the car door and got inside. She gripped the wheel and stared at the building.
The windows flashed with the light of each fired gunshot and Riley wondered how many rounds Priest had left. Their two guns had thirty-three rounds each, so she must have been getting close to empty on one. The extra magazines pressed against her ass, useless in the back pocket of her jeans. She remembered Priest saying the hellhounds and the mara were both vulnerable to human weapons and opened the trunk.
The AR-15 rifle had become something of a golden fleece among the department detectives when it was donated by a former Gulf War veteran. Riley had coveted the weapon as soon as the man brought it in. Somehow, through favors paid off and more promised for the future, it ended up in her hands. She was one of the few detectives willing to go into No Man's Land, after all, so the brass agreed it made sense to equip her accordingly. She took the gun and slapped the magazine in, feeling its weight as she slammed the trunk lid down. She had only used the weapon on firing ranges, but it was time for the demons to get a taste of what she could bring.
She raced across the lot, Priest's gunfire still echoing inside the building. Now Riley could hear the baying of the hounds, the barks and growls as the beasts attempted to overtake her. Riley ran back inside, through the office, and brought the gun up as she entered the main room. The sight that greeted her was so horrifying that she didn't depress the trigger immediately.
Priest was standing with a hellhound hanging from one arm, its teeth digging into her flesh. Both of her sleeves were torn, and bright red blood ran down her arms in multiple streams. Blood streaked her face and blouse. She fired point blank into a hound's face, then turned and fired at the one trying to tear her arm off.
"Priest!" Riley shouted.
"God damn you, Riley," Priest howled. "I told you to go."
Riley opened fire and the dogs were thrown back like grass clippings being hosed away. Priest stumbled and spun to face her. "Riley, get out of here!"
"I won't leave you."
A hound pounced on Priest from behind and threw her to the ground. Its paws, thick and ursine, pounded into her back between her wings, and its claws tore at the material of her blouse. Riley clenched her jaw and said, "Get off of her, you fucking mutt."
Before Riley could fire, she was knocked to the side by the sweep of a mighty arm. For a moment she thought someone had knocked her over with a baseball bat, but then one of the hounds dropped down onto her chest. It was unimaginably heavy, its weight pushing the air from her lungs. Riley struggled to raise the rifle, but she couldn't get the angle right. She looked toward Priest and saw the hellhound bring up a bloody claw to swipe at her back again. Blood spattered across the concrete floor.
The hound holding Riley down parted its lips to reveal horrific, yellow teeth. It dropped its head faster than she could react and clamped its jaws around her throat. She felt the incisors digging into her flesh and braced herself for the inevitable, waited for it to tear her throat out with one twist of--
* * *
Riley was wrapped in something. She struggled against it, twisting her body and kicking her legs in a futile attempt to escape. "Stop, stop," she panted, drenched with enough sweat that she wondered if she had been out in the rain. Strong hands cupped her face and she focused on Gillian's face. She realized she was on the couch in their apartment, the window bright with dawn. She blinked, her breath still coming in ragged huffs. "I-I don't... Priest. We have to save Priest..."
"You've been shouting her name for the last fifteen minutes," Gillian said. "It's all right. I've called her." She smoothed Riley's hair, touched her clammy cheek, and said, "She's on her way, Riley. Please, relax."
Riley looked down and saw a sheet wrapped around her torso. It was pulled tight, pinning her arms to her sides. "What..."
"I got sick of you punching me."
Riley cringed. "Jill..."
"I know. It's okay." She kissed Riley's forehead and said, "I'm okay. I'm worried about you. I didn't think I would be able to wake you up."
Riley's heart finally began to slow down, her tremors subsiding. "My throat. Touch..."
Gillian ran her hands over the smooth column of Riley's throat, revealing it to be completely intact.
"Priest said you came over to talk to her. You guys had a fight?"
"Not really," Riley said. "Maybe. Please untie me." Gillian loosened the sheet, which wasn't really tied, and rubbed Riley's arms. Riley looked for bruises on Gillian's face or her exposed arms. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," Gillian said. "I've been hit harder."
The door opened and Priest came inside without knocking. Riley was relieved to see she was completely intact. "What happened?"
"Another nightmare," Riley said. "I was right. They're getting worse."
Gillian said, "Do you know what's causing them?"
Priest explained to her about the mara, and then shook her head. "But I have never heard of attacks of this magnitude."
"Could it be because of who I am?" Riley said. "Have mara ever targeted champions?"
"That's probably it," Priest said. She chewed her lip and said, "You were right last night, Riley. You can't continue like this. I'll see if I can track down the mara tonight, and--"
Riley had a flash of Priest's back, the streak of blood between her wings, and she said, "No. Don't... don't do it. You were right. It's way too dangerous."
"We can't continue like this," Gillian said. She stroked Riley's hair and said, "She nearly took my head off. If it keeps getting worse."
"Take me somewhere they can take care of me," Riley said. "Commit me."
Priest and Gillian both stared at her.
Riley chuckled. "Jill, you had to tie me up so I'd stop hitting you. I'm a wreck even when I'm not asleep because those dreams are..." She pressed the heel of her hand against her eye and shook her head. "Put me in a mental institution. Tell them to put me in solitary confinement until this wears off."
Priest said, "Riley... your career would be over."
"Right. The way to protect my job is to go in like this. We can tell Briggs I need a few mental health days. She'll understand. The Angel Maker and everything that's been going on, she'll understand."
Priest rubbed her eyes. "She'll take you off the case, Riley. Do you really think anyone else has a chance of solving it?"
"We don't have a choice," Riley said. "You have to lock me up."
Priest looked at Gillian. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. But it won't be an asylum. I'll isolate you at my apartment."
"It's not secure."
"It will be," Priest said. She looked at Gillian. "I need to prepare. I'll let Briggs know that Riley is incapacitated. Will you be all right with her here?"
Gillian said, "Yes, of course."
Riley watched Priest leave and then pulled Gillian to her for a hug. "God."
"Can you tell me what happened in this one?"
"Priest was slaughtered," Riley whispered against Gillian's shoulder. "I watched her get torn apart."
"God," Gillian said. She kissed Riley's cheek and said, "And you still can't talk about the first one?"
"No," Riley said. "I'll never... I can't. I'm ashamed, and horrified by it. It's bad enough I have to live with the memory..."
Gillian nodded. "Okay. I understand. Do you want to take a bath while we wait for Priest to come back?"
"Yes."
Gillian helped Riley stand and walked her to the bathroom. Riley let Gillian undress her as the tub filled, wiping away the dry sweat with a towel before she guided Riley into the water. Riley relaxed against the curved edge of the tub and, remembering that she had fallen asleep the night before, said, "Keep me awake."
"Okay," Gillian said. She sat next to the tub and held Riley's hand. "What should I do?"
"Just... talk."
Gillian nodded and ran her fingers over the palm of Riley's hand. "I want you to think about our date. The date we had a few weeks ago."
"I remember it well," Riley said. "Especially the end."
Gillian blushed slightly as she chuckled. "Well, I've been known to revisit that night in a few dreams. That's all we have to do. We have to get you focused on the good dreams and just push the bad ones out."
The bathroom door opened and Riley looked up, expecting Priest. Her eyes widened when she saw who it really was.
Sweet Kara smiled down at her, checked out Riley's body, and gave an approving nod as she leaned against the sink. "Always knew you had a great body, Riley."
Riley couldn't respond, could only gawk at the specter that Gillian was ignoring. The side of Kara's head was bloody, as if the wound was fresh rather than over a year old.
"Don't worry about me being a vengeful spirit," Kara said. "I stopped blaming you for what happened a long time ago. Remember, it was all my fault. I don't know what I was thinking, getting involved in affairs of angels like that. Only a complete buffoon would get themselves in over their head that far." She gave Riley a coy smile and then winked. "Oh, and you can talk to me. Dr. Hunt won't hear. You're just dreaming."
"I didn't fall asleep."
"Yeah. Sitting in a warm tub with your lover stroking your hand. What's relaxing about that?" She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of, thank God you finally got together with her. It was like high school every time we had to go look at a body. There was a pool going for a while about when you guys would finally get together. I actually chose 'not in my lifetime.'" She thought about it and then smiled. "Hey. Guess that means I won."
"Get out of here," Riley said.
"You're grumpy. I don't remember that." She sighed and pushed away from the sink. "Don't worry, Riley. I'll be around."
Riley suddenly jerked, sloshing the water around her into a series of small waves. Gillian was perched on the edge of the tub, her hands on Riley's shoulders and her blouse wet up to the elbows. "Thank God," she said. "Are you okay?"
"What? Yes."
"I went to get a towel, and when I came back you were underwater."
Riley wiped her hand over her face and said, "I... I'm fine..."
Gillian's bottom lip quaked and she said, "No, Riley. You're not." She pulled Riley to her and hugged her tightly.
* * *
The ride to Priest's apartment was a blur. Gillian found a hard rock station on the radio and turned it up loud enough to shake the windows, a weak attempt to keep Riley from falling asleep. When they parked, a few of the women coming out of the church cast a judgmental gaze on the car and Riley's hoodie and jeans. Riley had put on a pair of sunglasses during the drive; the morning sun was way too bright and her sleep had been anything but restful the past few nights. Her head was killing her.
Gillian put an arm around her waist and guided her to the stairs. "It's okay, Riley. Caitlin will take care of you."
The apartment door was open and Gillian led Riley inside. She had a flash of the night before, the scene she'd walked into in the bedroom. She pushed it out of her mind. Maybe that was all part of the dream, too. Gillian guided her to the couch and she sat down, taking off her sunglasses and tossing them onto the table. "Caitlin?" Gillian said. "Are you here?"
"I'm in the spare room," Priest said. She came out a moment later and said, "I'm just making preparations."
Riley patted Gillian's arm. "I'm here, I'm safe. Go to work."
"Are you out of your mind?" Gillian said. Riley scoffed, and Gillian ducked her head. "I didn't mean..."
"No, it's true."
Gillian said, "Either way. I'm not leaving you."
"No. There's nothing you can do here but worry."
Gillian said, "Yeah, imagine how useful I'll be at work."
"Go. Please, I'll be fine here with Priest."
Gillian looked past Riley at Priest, and then reluctantly gave in. She kissed Riley's lips and said, "I'll call to check up on you. I love you."
"I love you, too."
To Priest, Gillian said, "You call me if anything happens. Don't try to protect me, and don't let her talk you out of it."
"Yes, ma'am," Priest said.
Gillian kissed Riley one more time before she finally stood up. She left quickly, obviously hurrying so she wouldn't be tempted to stay. Priest followed Gillian to the door and closed it behind her. She turned to Riley and said, "All right. Let's go tour your home for the next two weeks."
Riley pushed off the couch and followed Priest down the hall. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"If you wanted to see human sexuality in practice, why didn't you ask to watch me and Gillian?"
Priest paused at the door of the guest room. "Would you have said yes?"
"No. Probably not."
Priest nodded. "I'm not sure why. It never crossed my mind. Mackenzie and Chelsea have a new relationship. What you have with Gillian feels more... sacred."
Priest opened the door to the guest room and Riley stepped inside. The room had been stripped of amenities, left with just a cot in the far corner and a small radio on the floor next to it. The window was covered with plywood and the walls were covered with cryptic runes.
"Don't touch the walls," Priest said. "The ink isn't quite dry."
"Thanks," Riley said.
"The room should offer you protection from outside influence. I don't think it will block the mara's influence entirely, but it should at least let you get a little restful sleep. I hope."
Riley nodded. "I'm willing to try anything. Thank you, Caitlin."
Priest said, "'Caitlin'? Now I'm really worried."
"At least I didn't call you Zerachiel."
Priest smiled and said, "I'll check on you throughout the day. Call me if you need anything."
Riley went into the room and Priest closed the door behind her. Riley, for some reason, expected to hear a key in the lock and bolts being thrown. She walked to the cot and stretched out, toeing off her shoes and crossing her feet at the ankles. Her entire body felt battered, and her brain felt like it was in a vice. She rubbed her temples to try and quiet the encroaching headache, but it didn't help. She rubbed her throat, still sore in the aftermath of the hellhound dream. It was bad enough that she had to relive the dreams in memory; if she was going to start having physical reminders, she would be done.
She tried to sleep, but her mind refused to cooperate. She could hear traffic outside, singing through the floor, and Priest moving around in the rest of the apartment. Riley could tell she was trying to be as quiet as possible, but apparently even angels could have club feet.
After a while, she dozed. The dream she had was actually more of a hallucination, a fantasy where she was a princess locked up in a tall castle tower and protected by an angel. She imagined wide, rolling fields outside the castle, the beauty ringed on all sides by a dark and dead forest. Demons and monsters lived in the forest of No Man's Land, and the darkness was spreading. Grass and flowers refused to grow near the border of the forest, and that only increased its reach. The branches of the tall, black trees seemed to be almost reaching for her.
Riley woke easily. She rubbed her face and cursed the fact that that was what counted as a good dream for her. She sat up, placed her feet on the floor, and tried to look at the runes Priest had painted on the wall. Any of them she looked directly at seemed to reject her gaze, forcing her to slide her eyes away. And as soon as she looked away, she couldn't remember the exact shape of the rune.
She stood up and stretched, paced the perimeter of the room, and finally took off her hoodie. She dropped to the floor and began to do push-ups. She didn't count, but she could tell when she reached the end of ten. She counted out seventy before she stopped and moved onto her back. She did another seventy sit ups, touching each elbow to the opposite knee before dropping back down.
Riley heard Priest talking in the living room of the apartment and she stood up. Her muscles ached from the exercise. It was a good ache, but not enough to make her tired. She opened the bedroom door to ask for a glass of water and paused when she recognized Gillian's voice.
"We'll have to tell her eventually."
Priest said, "Give me a chance to smooth it over. For now we can just tell her it's vacation time. It's not exactly a lie."
"I don't like it, Caitlin."
Riley came into the room and said, "I don't like it either. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"
Priest and Gillian both looked at her, Gillian's expression full of guilt while Priest just looked ashamed. "I thought you would call out if you needed something. You should stay in the room, the protection--"
"Just tell me what's going on. Now."
Gillian looked at Priest and said, "Lieutenant Briggs suspended you."
"What?"
"I was going to tell you," Priest said. "The fourth body was identified. Briggs wanted us to follow-up immediately, but I told her that you needed a few days to recuperate from recent stresses. She reassigned the case to Logan."
Riley resisted the urge to punch the wall. "That's bullshit. Logan is too close-minded. I'm amazed he's survived this long as a detective. He needs every damn thing lined up for him before he can come to a conclusion. He's..."
"Calm down," Gillian whispered.
Riley stepped up to Priest. "How could you let her take the Angel Maker away from us? That's our case. No one else will have our information. No one else will be able to close it."
"I'm lending my assistance to Logan. I'll make sure he follows the right path. When you're better, we'll talk to Briggs. She'll give us the case back and everything will be fine."
"I'm not going to go on like this," Riley said. "If we just sit it out and wait for the effects to wear off, they'll just do it again. They'll have a weapon they can use to get me out of the way two weeks at a time. We might as well just bend over and wave the white flag."
"Riley, I told you. The hellhounds that protect the mara..."
"Right," Riley said. "I saw it in living color in my dreams, remember? But there has to be something we can do. Why can't we set fire to the building that the mara is in? Shoot whatever comes crawling out."
"The mara aren't vulnerable to fire."
"You said they were susceptible to human weapons."
Priest frowned. "I did?"
"Yeah. In..."
"In your dream?" Gillian said quietly.
Sweet Kara stepped out from behind Gillian. "They're all out to get you."
"Oh, Christ," Riley said. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"What's wrong?"
Riley looked at Kara. She was still standing beside her, glaring at Priest and Gillian. The ground no longer felt solid under her feet. "Nothing. I... nothing is wrong. Except that I'm going to lose both of my jobs if I sit here and do nothing."
"Both..."
"Champion and cop," Riley said. She grabbed her coat and headed for the door. "I can't just sit back there and twiddle my thumbs. I have to do something."
Gillian followed Riley to the stairs. "What about your third job?"
Riley turned and looked up at her.
"My partner," Gillian said. "What will you do to keep that job?"
"Don't make me choose," Riley said. "That's not fair."
Gillian said, "It's not fair to make me keep waiting, Riley. If you leave, if you go out there with your mind the way it is, then... I'm done. I won't stand by and watch you kill yourself."
Riley met Gillian's eyes before she turned and continued down the stairs. She stepped outside and squinted at the bright sun. She felt nauseated, weak. She put on her sunglasses, slipped on her suit jacket, and walked to the corner. She wasn't sure where she was going, wasn't sure if she had a plan. All she could think about was moving forward. She wasn't going to sit in some damn room and wait for the bad guys to win. She was embarrassed Priest had suggested it, ashamed she had so eagerly accepted.
She wanted to storm into Briggs' office and demand the Angel Maker case back. She wanted to punch Logan in his damn fat face for even trying to take it from her. She wanted to rant, scream, yell, fight. She wanted to do anything except lay down her arms.
Riley boarded the el train and rode without paying attention to the stops or the neighborhoods it ran through. Normally she liked when the train was going slow enough to look into the buildings they passed. Snapshots of normalcy, of real life, of people who weren't dead or killing each other or fighting. Dinners on a dining room table, a family doing dishes, the occasional intimate moment after work... today she couldn't even focus on the buildings.
An idea began to form in her mind. The images were clear, the logic sound. It grew until it blocked her vision, kept her from paying attention to anything but the beauty of her idea.
Sweet Kara was sitting next to her. "It would certainly feel good, wouldn't it?" she said, obviously aware of Riley's plan. "And it's inevitable anyway, right? So why not?"
Riley rode the train to the appropriate stop and then followed the flow of people out the door. She barely registered the fact that they were giving her a wide berth. She wondered how bad she looked. Sleep deprived, sick to her stomach, pissed beyond belief... she would probably have stayed away from herself, too.
She had a vague idea of the directions, but she took a few wrongs turns along the way. The sick feeling in her stomach only increased the more she walked. She had to get rid of this damned mara, and there was only one safe way she could think of to do it. She pushed through the glass door, her palm leaving a smear as she dragged it away. She walked directly toward the stairs.
A security guard rose from the desk, a blur in the corner of her eye that wasn't worth turning to face. "Excuse me..."
Riley pulled her badge out of her pocket. Briggs hadn't gotten that yet, at least. She took the stairs two and three at a time, sweating by the time she reached the right floor. A receptionist looked up and began to stop her. "Where..." Riley flashed her badge, and the woman backed down.
She breezed past the desk, the security guard and receptionist now both following behind her. Her gun was in her belt, hidden by the tail of her shirt, within easy reach.
Gail Finney looked up from her desk as Riley approached. She arched an eyebrow and leaned back in her seat. "Well, Riley Parra. Come to do the first part of our interview?"
The first shot hit Gail above the right eyebrow and painted blood and gore on the wall behind her chair. Gail was tossed back into her seat, expression one of shock, her lips parted in a wide oval as she slumped in the leather seat. Riley squeezed off three more shots and Gail Finney's body danced with each impact. Riley resisted the urge to laugh, aware it would sound like an insane giggle.
The security guard hit Riley from behind and knocked her to the ground. Her gun skittered across the floor and landed against the trash can.
If Gail Finney had summoned the mara, then her death would cut its ties. Logical. Not that Riley was holding out much hope for things to be fixed now, since Gail was only dead in a dream. The security guard wrenched Riley's arms behind her back and she felt zip ties tightening around her wrists. She wondered how long it would take Priest and Gillian to wake her up from this one. Not that she was in a hurry. She could see Gail's body on the floor, separated from her by a desk. She was bloody, and quite indeed dead. It was finally an image she wanted to keep with her after she woke up.
"Wake me up," she whispered.
Someone checked Gail's pulse, but it was a futile gesture. People were screaming. Crying. She could hear people running around the room, fleeing to the stairs and elevators. The security guard was kneeling in the small of her back. She thought he had a gun, but she wasn't sure. He was muttering something in another language. A prayer, perhaps.
"Wake me up," Riley whispered. "Wake me up."
Sirens filled the air, coming closer. Riley's breath became rough, harsh.
"Wake me up...
"Wake me up...
"Jill, please, wake me up..."