I hesitate on the sidewalk. We haven’t made much progress on redeeming Sean. All his thefts strike me as attempts at good. But he’s insistent on this Holy Grail thing and he’s hated by guardians (and knows guardians). And, this is a big and, we have no idea what he did to end up in Hell in the first place.
Leaving aside that I just torched the bridge to gainful employment at the family business. Jared always used to say that the danger of a backup plan is lack of follow-through. We’ll see.
Sure, I can imagine a circumstance in which my mom allows me to come back. I’m good at my job here. What I can’t see in this moment is having to come grovel and ask for that job back. I need to show them that I know as much of what I’m doing as anyone ever can—that I can build the life I want. The only way out now is through.
If this is the path that gives my life meaning, the path I want, then I have to try.
Luke stands beneath the special sign for the weekend with its floating halo—he’s giving me a second to gather my thoughts—and I realize that means I’m right beneath the matching horns. If we were a regular couple, this would be prime selfie time.
We’re not.
As evidenced by our demon friend Porsoth looking Sean up and down. He tsks into Sean’s handsome face. “I thought you’d be…”
“You’re not going to say taller…” Sean says.
“No! I never heard how you died,” Porsoth says with great care. Odd. That is not how Porsoth usually speaks. “I don’t…” He pauses. “I was surprised to learn you were in our realms.”
I glance back and forth between them. “You two know each other? You know Saraya the Rude and Porsoth? How?” I ask Sean.
“He doesn’t know me,” Porsoth says. Again, cagey for him. He’s usually blurting out too much.
“Unimportant,” Sean says. “Details.”
Porsoth’s owlish eyes have gone shifty, refusing to meet mine. I’m definitely missing important context here. “You’re more than a con artist and thief who always seems to be playing Robin Hood.”
Sean shrugs. “If you say so.”
I understand Saraya’s impulses to throttle him. “And the most maddening person I have ever met.”
Luke steps forward and puts a hand on my arm. “Hey, I’ll get offended. That’s my title.” Gently, he adds, “You all right? What happened in there…”
“Was the right thing to do.” I frown at him.
He frowns back. “If you’re sure.”
I bristle, then do my best to smooth the feelings down. Press them away. It only barely works. “You don’t agree with them, do you?”
“Of course not,” Luke says. “I’m with you.”
“I hate to interrupt your argum—discussion,” Porsoth says, changing course when my eyebrows lift. “But the guardians will be here soon and I would hate for your mother to experience another financial setback.”
“Right,” I say. “That’s all we need. We should go. Sean?”
In the absence of other good options, I decide to ask Sean where he intends to go next. I have a suspicion, after a little searching on the Grail last night. Though I’d expect him to have done more research to narrow potential sites down, given his illustrious history. When he fixes on a goal, he doesn’t stop until he gets it. There’s no way he got caught on any of those jobs without trying to.
He’s more of a riddle than ever. I still don’t fully understand why Lucifer saddled us with him, but I’m guessing it has something to do with whatever past he and Saraya clearly have. My luck, Lucifer intends for Saraya to take me out, plucking the thorn from his side. Maybe we can pry some more information out of Sean when we get to possible Grail location three.
“Sean?” I ask again and yeah, he’s no longer here. I poke my head back inside the business. “Did Sean come back?”
Mag shakes their head. “You need help?”
No way in my boyfriend’s home I could ask for it now. “No, we have to go.” Once I’m facing Luke and Porsoth again, I scowl.
“How does he do that? Travel so quickly?” This time I ask Porsoth.
“There are … ways,” he says.
My hand rises to my hip. “I don’t like it when you keep information from us. Friends share things.”
Porsoth, horrified, places his wing to his chest. “Please forgive me, I would give anything to reveal—I have already risked so much…”
Now I feel mean.
“I’d better get back,” Porsoth says, “before anyone realizes and misses me and I wouldn’t want to—”
“It’s fine, really,” I tell him. “Go.”
“Yes, go on, Porsoth. Thanks for the early warning,” Luke says. The bone from his prince calms Porsoth a bit and he leaves in a burst of foul-smelling smoke.
“Where to?” Luke asks and extends his hand.
My family is inside the building behind me and leaving the business feels like parting from them somehow too. No going back from here. But what lies ahead?
I think back to this morning in the hotel room. I don’t know that I’d have been able to stop. I didn’t want to. But I also don’t know for certain that Luke is as committed to this as I am. To us. And whether it matters if he is, or whether we’re another impossible thing, like saving Sean.
I check and confirm Sean’s where I assumed he’d head next.
“Genoa,” I say.
Back to Italy so soon. If the guardians beat us, Saraya might take Sean straight back to Hell. We can’t let that happen.
The Cathedral of San Lorenzo in Genoa is home to yet another relic that legend says might be the Grail. When we get there, it’s bright and busy on the city street, and jarring coming from home where it was still early morning, depending on your usual bedtime. (Way-too-early morning for me … except with an ocean of coffee or at times like this, when there’s no choice.)
The medieval cathedral has an unusual striped stone facade, and around the plaza in front of it are a variety of ordinary businesses. A pharmacy, a place to grab gelato. Luke and I are still holding hands and I lean forward and support him as he recovers from the journey.
Forehead to forehead. Steadying us both, I hope.
The amount of zappitying is getting ridiculous. We could be in one of those old movies, represented only by fake airplanes traveling via little dots all over the map and back again.
“I didn’t think we’d be traveling this much on our date,” I say.
“I’m getting better at it,” he says, after a few long moments. “But next time, we’re staying in.”
I’m relieved that he’s recovered. “Deal.”
We grin at each other.
“He’s here?” Luke asks.
“Inside again.” I confirm, but don’t pull away.
His breath whispers against my cheek. This thing between us has to be real. Being close to him wouldn’t short-circuit my brain if it wasn’t real. How many people have thought that over the centuries?
“You’re sure you don’t think Mag has a point?” I press, knowing it’s the wrong thing to say and saying it anyway. I feel like I’m demon-possessed. I suppose, in a way, I am.
Luke’s lips pull tight for a second before he answers. “They just want to make sure I’m making you happy. You heard most of it?”
“Only the end. I don’t buy that.”
“Okay, Detective Callie. Since we’re asking each other questions … are you sure turning your back on your family was the right thing?”
Ice spreads from somewhere in the region of my heart throughout my body. My veins fill with crackling cold. “I would never turn my back on them. But I need to do this too.”
That’s when he pushes back and gets a better look at my expression. “Got it. You want me to go in again?”
I nod, incapable of speaking. I’m only staying quiet by using every part of my brain that knows this is stray emotions spilling over. Things aren’t going well and so we’re taking aim at each other. I push my unruly feelings to arm’s length as hard as I can.
“Back soon,” he says, the words clipped. I want to tell him to wait, but we’re in a hurry. I need to get better control of myself.
I raised my hand and volunteered for this. I made these choices.
I would call him back and apologize, but, after a brief hesitation at the door, he vanishes inside the cathedral.
Somewhere inside sits the Sacro Catino, a hexagon-shaped bowl made of Egyptian green glass that people in ye olden times thought was fashioned from a single emerald and magically powerful because of that. Napoleon stole it, and then it got returned broken into pieces. One missing. A few people consider it a candidate for the Holy Chalice.
The thing that surprises me is that … I can practically see it. I sense its presence so strongly that I could go straight to it. If it wasn’t inside a church.
That almost certainly means it’s not the real thing.
A relief. We still don’t know enough about what Sean’s playing at.
I wait, and wait longer, and then I wish I’d used my hyper-acute senses to check the time on my phone before Luke went in. It could’ve been an extremely long minute or a relatively fast ten minutes. Twenty tops. I don’t think it’s been any longer than that.
Truth is I’ve aged a decade waiting out here for him to emerge with Sean. Maybe more. I’m an ancient now, the kind of long-lived being who knows exactly where the Holy Grail is.
I wish. Then I could hide it from Sean.
I’m stuck on the question of why he wants it, another puzzle we don’t have any pieces to.
I age another year—at least—when Saraya strolls around the corner. She doesn’t have a weapon drawn, which I suppose is something. Her cheekbones are sharp as the blades undoubtedly tucked in handy locations all over her outfit.
She’d probably punch me for calling her bad-ass leather gear an “outfit,” even in my head.
“You aren’t going to say hello?” she asks and climbs the steps to the entrance. She must know I shouldn’t risk getting any closer to the cathedral, not in my current demon-powered state.
She turns to face me and leans against one of the cathedral’s front columns in what is still a lethal stance.
“Hello,” I say. “Fancy meeting you here.”
We stare at each other. This situation doesn’t compute. Why is Saraya out here and not barreling in there? And … why is she alone? I’ve never seen her without her whole squad.
“Did you send your minions in to get him from the back or something?” I resist panicking at what a squad of guardians might do to a human Luke, purely as collateral damage. Or for fun. I have no way to alert him of the danger.
Saraya doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. “I decided to give myself the pleasure of bringing him in.”
Again, doesn’t compute. “And you’re not in a rush to do it?”
“May as well wait. He’d only enjoy it if I went in figurative guns blazing.”
So here we are. Me and Saraya, waiting in what might pass for a companionable peace to an onlooker, for Luke to return with Sean. She’s acknowledged their past. I need to convince her to talk to me. Tell me how she knows him. We can’t let her take him.
You also have no way to stop her.
Even as I contemplate using Luke’s powers, I put that thought aside. This is a deadly warrior. I am … not.
But I am good at asking questions and finding answers. I think.
“I spent last night reading up on our mutual friend in there—Sean’s—criminal exploits, Saraya the Rude,” I say. “Impressive résumé.”
She sniffs. “You would think so.”
“You don’t? It seems like he only goes after people who deserve it. Why is that?”
Saraya’s lips harden. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to get me to talk. Your little deadline approaches.”
The clock is ticking. True. I go for a reaction.
“He’s on a quest for the Holy Grail,” I say. “That’s why we’re here.”
Her lips now part in surprise. She collects herself. This is the closest to bothered I’ve seen the unflappable Saraya—since she saw Sean earlier. “No way. He’s playing you.”
I watch her with extreme care and all the benefit of Luke’s senses. “I don’t think he is. What’s your past together?”
Once I spotted the pattern to Sean’s actions, all I could see was an effort to atone. But for what? And how did he end up in Hell? Porsoth seemed to find it surprising he had been there.
“We knew each other a long time ago” is all she says.
“You didn’t know he was dead?” I ask.
“I knew he hadn’t popped up on the radar in a while, so I assumed his bad habits caught up to him.”
I remember what she said earlier, dismissing my read on him. “You don’t believe he was doing good work?”
“He was committing crimes. Showing off. Enjoying himself.”
“Are those things mutually exclusive?”
I flinch when Saraya spins, pulling a knife from a thigh sheath and throwing it through a gap in the foot traffic and into a sign for a movie on scaffolding across the street. The blade lodges right in some poor actor’s left eye socket. She stalks over, then leaps up and retrieves it in one smooth motion.
I’m blinking when she comes back. “What was that?”
“I don’t like talking about this.”
“You mean you don’t like me.” Why am I provoking her? Is this part of Luke’s powers? (I know it’s not, but he is good at it. Why isn’t he back yet?)
It’s like she reads my worry.
“Since he must be in there … You aren’t concerned about your boyfriend bursting into flame?” Saraya asks idly. “Did you find the dog on the facade yet?” She tilts her head to indicate the cathedral behind her.
How she’s able to look so composed and cool standing on a sidewalk, a knife in a sheath on her thigh, wearing white leather, I’ll never understand. Even with Luke’s powers, I’m starting to sweat in the sticky summer heat. I can feel my hair starting to frizz, strand by strand.
“He’s human for now,” I say. “He’ll be fine.”
Saraya’s eyes widen. “You trust Lucifer an awful lot. Wasn’t he about to unmake him last month?”
These are not helpful thoughts. Because I can’t do a damned thing about it if Luke is in trouble. I’m stuck out here.
“I really don’t,” I say. A thought occurs to me. “But … are you trying to be helpful?”
I’m honestly not sure. I need a Saraya decoder ring. An encyclopedia about the ways of guardians.
“Not particularly.” She stands there, cool as can be. “So, did you? Find the dog?”
I bite. “What dog?”
“I thought you were considered well-read,” she says.
Fighting words. “I am.”
“The story you don’t know goes that a workman on the cathedral back in the fourteenth century had a very good dog.”
“They’re all good dogs,” I put in, because, well, Saraya may not be aware.
“His dog died, and so he put a small sculpture into the facade, a memorial.” She stops and I’d call it a frown if I’d ever seen her smile. Laugh at me? Yes. Smile, no. “Legend goes if you see the dog, then you’re destined for true love. If not, no such … love.” Now she smiles, but it’s not happy. She lifts her hand and points. “There, I’ll even help you.”
I would never have guessed that oblong blob is supposed to be a dog, but check. One sight of Genoa seen. “Why would you help me and Luke?”
The cruel grin widens. “You’ll end up making each other miserable. That’s what love does, true and otherwise.”
“Ouch,” I say.
“Spoken like someone who’s never known real pain.”
I’m not going to say it, but: double ouch.
The gash where the eye of the billboard actor across the street should be stares like a warning. I want Luke to come out sooner rather than later, but I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen when he does.
My fake money is on nothing good.