Six
on Thursday morning, eager to get his visit with JD over with.
He wasn’t particularly pleased to be Mason’s messenger boy, but it suited his needs, and to be honest, he was intrigued by Mason’s attitude. Once again, he felt on shifting ground, and wished he could have seen Olivia. He valued her opinion, and besides, she let him complain without judgement, usually adding her own complaints, too. It was a general bitching session that suited both of them. With luck, he’d catch up with her later.
Once at JD’s Tudor mansion, Anna, JD’s assistant, met him at the door, a frown on her face. “I’m not sure this is a good time, Harlan. He’s very busy.”
He waved the papers secured in an envelope at her. “He’s got to sign these. Mason’s instructions.”
She let him in, edging the door open with obvious reluctance. “Doesn’t he have admin staff for that kind of thing?”
He smiled and lied. “I’m down this way on business. It was convenient. Didn’t Mason warn you I was coming?”
“Of course.” Her voice was brusque. “He knows he must. JD is a busy man.” She waved him into a comfortably old-fashioned reception room with French doors that looked onto the garden. “Let me see if he’s ready to see you.”
She didn’t give him a chance to argue his case. He wanted to see where JD was working and what he was up to, but he also believed Anna wouldn’t have the slightest problem throwing him out if he didn’t behave, so instead he walked to the open doors and stepped on to the patio to admire the garden. He presumed JD had a gardener. The garden was a riot of summer colour. An elaborate Elizabethan knot garden was in front of him, and from here he could see what looked to be a well-planned herb garden in the distance. Harlan smiled. It seemed JD still liked to surround himself with things from his youth.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. Anna returned after a few minutes, saying, “He’ll see you downstairs. He’s in the middle of something and he said it’s tricky timing.”
Intrigued, Harlan followed her down the hall to where a door lay open, previously disguised in the panelling. Wall lights illuminated steps descending beneath the house, and she directed, “Down there. Don’t touch anything!”
With her words ringing in his ears like he was some kind of wayward child, he went cautiously, emerging onto a small landing with a heavy door. Pushing his way inside, he gasped with surprise. It was a long, low-ceilinged laboratory, lined with bottles, jars, Bunsen burners, and lots of equipment he didn’t even recognise, as well as some more modern technology in one corner.
There was no natural light at all. Instead, electric bulbs illuminated the space well. It was also extremely clean—clinical, even. Cupboards and shelves lined one wall, and if it wasn’t for some of the more modern items and the lighting, Harlan would have thought he’d stepped back in time. He was in an alchemist’s laboratory.
JD was oblivious to his arrival, watching a series of jars linked with tubes, some stacked above each other, all filled with bubbling liquids of various colours, while making notes on a large pad of paper. As Harlan walked closer, he realised the paper was illegible to him, filled with odd symbols and tiny handwriting.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” JD said, not taking his eyes from one jar whose contents were bubbling down to a solid lump of…something. After another few seconds he whipped the jar off the heat and placed it on the counter to cool. He finally looked at Harlan, his eyes narrowing and his lips puckering with distaste. “I can spare a few moments only. I would have thought Mason would have sent someone else.”
“I was down this way on business,” Harlan said, repeating his earlier lie and not bothering with pleasantries. If JD couldn’t be bothered, why should he? “I have some papers…”
“Yes, yes, yes.” He thrust his hand out. “Let’s get this over with.”
Harlan’s fury suddenly bubbled over. “Hey, JD! Stop being a dick. I’m doing you a favour!” He slapped the envelope on the counter rather than in JD’s hand. “You should work on your manners!”
JD froze, eyes locked with Harlan’s, then he snorted, grabbed the envelope, and ripped it open. “As I suspected. This could have waited. Stupid contracts. Have you been sent to spy on me?”
Harlan folded his arms across his chest. “It seems that I am caught between your and Mason’s stupid feud! I don’t care for it. Sign the damn paper so I can go. I couldn’t give a shit what has happened between you two. All I know is that your behaviour a few weeks ago was infantile and dangerous. You and Mason could have been killed! And I felt compelled to try to help—risking my life, too!”
JD drew himself fully upright, shoulders back. “Liar. You couldn’t wait to get out there and see what was happening.”
“You’re right. I was interested, but I was worried about Mason. He’s not good in the field, and you took him with you! If you wanted help, you should have asked me. It’s what I’m good at. Mason is traumatised, and Smythe—not only his secretary, but his good friend—is dead! He’s very upset right now.”
“Which is not my fault!” JD jabbed him in the chest with his finger. “Black Cronos killed him, not me.”
Harlan grabbed JD’s hand, squeezing it within his own. “Don’t you ever touch me again.” He stared into JD’s eyes and had the feeling he was talking to a sociopath. “If this is what immortality does to you, I want none of it. You’re a monster, JD. Mason is supposed to be your friend. I fully realise you are not mine, and I’m more than happy with that if this is how you treat them.”
JD clenched his jaw, and he stepped back, wrenching his hand free. “I had a good reason for finding Toto Dax. What he’s doing is against all the principles of alchemy. He’s subverting it, sullying it. It is meant for finer things. I want to stop him.”
“We all want to stop him, but getting your friends killed in the process is not the way.” Harlan studied the jars currently bubbling away. “Seeing as how you disapprove of Toto’s actions, I take it you are not trying to become superhuman yourself?”
“Are you insane? Of course not!”
“Then what are you doing? You’ve been keeping your head down, which means everyone’s making assumptions. Especially knowing you were looking at the research found in the Dark Star Temple.”
“What do you mean, everyone?”
“The Paranormal Division, Jackson, the Nephilim, me!” He decided to leave Mason out of it. “Your attitude isn’t instilling confidence.”
JD looked incredulous. “I am trying to find an antidote, you imbecile!”
Harlan was so astonished, he forgot to be angry about being called an imbecile. “You’re doing what?”
“An. Antidote.” He said it slowly and loudly, as if Harlan was deaf.
“An antidote to their superhuman abilities?”
“Of course!”
”Is that even possible?” Harlan’s gaze swept across the array of jars. “Is that what this is?”
“These are the early stages of my experiments, yes.” JD wiped a hand across his brow and closed his eyes for a moment, before fixing Harlan with an impatient stare. “As to whether it’s possible, I have no idea. If I don’t try, I won’t know.”
Harlan’s annoyance evaporated, and he sat on the closest stool. “That’s amazing.”
“Nothing is amazing yet. I’ve barely begun.”
“Why haven’t you told anyone? The Paranormal Division, for example. They’d want to know. I know you know them.”
“I don’t like to share my experiments until I know I’m making progress, and so far, I’m making none.”
Harlan fell into silence while JD continued to tinker with the Bunsen burners and his jars. He’d turned his back as if Harlan wasn’t even there, and for a few moments, Harlan watched, fascinated, thinking through what he knew about Black Cronos. “But JD, Toto or whoever was before him have been doing these experiments for years. Why have you only just started to look for an antidote now? I know you were involved in the search for them during the war.”
He shook his head and muttered under his breath, “You have been sent to try my patience.”
“I’m genuinely curious.”
“Of course I’ve tried before…multiple times. But until I saw them recently—actually saw them,” he swung around to look at Harlan, “I had no idea what they’d achieved. I’m horrified. It’s so much more than I’d imagined. And…” He stopped and seemed to summon his courage. “And I have to admit that I thought I was brilliant, but I confess that I find myself impressed by their achievements.”
Ah. So that was it. JD, for all of his brilliance, couldn’t work out how they’d done it.
“But you didn’t have any of this old research before,” Harlan said.
“And I have mere fragments of it now. This will be no easy task.” He gestured towards a row of metals on the bench, small and large chunks of what Harlan recognised as iron, silver, copper, and gold, and others he didn’t know. His fingers ran across his lip as he stared at them. “It’s some ingenious use of these. Some way of fusing them…” His voice trailed off.
“How would the antidote work? I mean, how would we administer it?”
“Too soon to say. Far too soon.”
“Working with the Paranormal Division might help. They have labs—”
JD cut him off. “They’re not alchemists. They will have no idea.”
“They’re scientists. That’s what alchemists are, right?”
“We are so much more than that.” He grabbed his pen and signed the papers Harlan had given him, and then thrust them back. “There you go. How is Mason?”
“Angry. You should call him.”
JD didn’t respond, instead returning to his work, and Harlan left him to it, happy to leave feeling at least slightly victorious. At least he knew what JD was up to now.
Shadow woke late on Thursday morning, cocooned next to Gabe’s sprawling body in their bedroom in the Scottish house. His arm lay across her back, and she rolled over, trying not to disturb him.
She immediately winced as she felt the pain within her chest, and lifting the duvet, saw the dark purple bruise that started on her sternum and spread across her breasts and down to her abdomen. Shit. If not for her fey armour, she’d likely be dead.
Gabe heard her stir, and still sleepy, pulled her close.
“Not so tight,” she murmured.
His eyes flew wide open at that. “Are you okay?”
“Hideously bruised. Maybe a cracked rib or two.” She snuggled into him despite her discomfort, and showered kisses along his jaw. “I haven’t been so badly injured for a long time.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and pulled the duvet back, his eyes widening with horror at her bruise. “That’s worse than last night.”
“It’s to be expected. Estelle did something to draw the bruise out. It eased my breathing, whatever she did.” She pulled the duvet back and studied his face. “What about you? How’s your head?”
“Fine. Just scratches and minor bruises now. They’ve almost healed already.” He grunted. “And my pride, of course.”
“I don’t know why. The Silencer of Souls is a worthy opponent. I just wish I knew what weapon she was using.”
“Do you admire her?”
“To an extent. She’s fast, strong, clever… What’s not to admire?” She teased him. “Not as fast as me, though. I am fey.”
“She might not be as fast as you, but she got first strike last night.”
“Her weapon gave her an advantage. Something handheld.” Shadow tried to remember if she’d seen anything within her clenched fist. “It was metal, I think. Small, whatever it was.”
“And deadly. At least she didn’t kiss you.”
Gabe’s eyes always took on a faraway, glazed expression when he thought of that almost deadly embrace, and she knew it wasn’t from lust. She had genuinely unnerved him, and not much did. In fact, Black Cronos had unnerved all of them. Which reminded her of the stone tablet. “Tell me about the Igigi. You were holding something back last night.”
“Not really.” He sank back on to the pillows, pulling her gently against his chest, and she rested her hand on him, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest. “Honestly, we fought so many campaigns, sometimes it’s hard to distinguish them. But no doubt they were different. I suppose thinking about it now, the Minotaur we encountered at the temple was of a similar height and build. Some of the Igigi had the legs of horses, some the heads of lions, others the strength of apes. Some had the trunk of an elephant on a human face and elephantine feet. Some had wings and the upper bodies of eagles. Some were intelligent, though most were not, bred only for slavery. It was the intelligent ones who led the revolt, of course.”
“Against the Gods?”
“Enlil, to be precise. The God of air, wind, earth and storms, and most senior of all of the Sumerian Gods.”
Shadow thought her own world had too many Gods, but Earth’s past seemed to have thousands. “He rivalled your God.”
He looked at her and raised his eyebrow, amused. “My God? No. I worshiped none, even though he was the leader and father of the angels, even the Fallen.”
“Which makes him your grandfather.”
“Ha!” Gabe’s laugh rumbled deep within his chest. “I’ve never thought of him like that before. But he wasn’t, not really. Not in the true sense of the word.”
“Why didn’t the angels battle the Igigi?”
“They couldn’t walk on Earth, not properly. When they fell, the Fallen had to take different forms that were not sustainable. To look upon the true face of an angel would cause madness or death. And they certainly couldn’t mate with a human woman without taking a human shape.”
Shadow was more confused than ever. “Then why fall in the first place, if they couldn’t live on Earth?”
“To encourage descension, distrust, meddle, or, as they saw it, spread enlightenment. We were their servants, bred to do their dirty work as the Igigi were bred to do their Gods’ work.”
“But you said they were called demons.”
“For their appearance, more than their actions, at least initially.”
“And this stone tablet? What did you really read?”
He looked down at her. “I need to study it properly. My brothers were right. It is barely legible in places, but what I can read talks of a final resting place. Anyway,” he sat up, easing away from her, “we have a plane to catch, and plenty of homework to do.”
“We’re going to find them, right?”
“Of course we are.” He grinned. “We need to beat Black Cronos at their own game.”