Sweet Evil(121)
I let the meaning of those words reverberate deep in my soul as I stepped into the darkened area, surveying the scene. The room was rectangular and flat, like a recreation hall, with about thirty tables that each seated four. A small stage was in the middle, about a foot and a half high. The short ceiling made me feel hemmed in, as if it might collapse on us at any moment.
I don’t know what I expected when I got down there, but there was no fanfare as I entered the room. A few Neph glanced up, but the Dukes did not seem to notice or care. I exhaled.
Nephilim were spread out around the room, sitting and standing alone or in small groups, silent and still. There were over a hundred, young and old. I felt a kinship and commonality as I glanced around at the strangers. How many of them felt the way my friends and I did about doing our fathers’ work?
The Dukes made themselves at home, lounging at the prime tables surrounding the stage. My eyes darted over them. Pharzuph sat at a table full of rowdy Dukes, leaning back in his gray suit and laughing. His shiny black dress shoes were propped up on the table.
It was eerie how handsome they all were. Even the rough-edged, rugged ones maintained fit bodies and confident postures that held appeal. I marveled at their respectable-businessmen appearances, their fine Italian suits, and ornate, traditional garb from around the world. If it weren’t for the multicolored badges of sin crested on their chests, they would seem like nothing more than powerful, self-assured humans. One woman sat among them. I’d been told of her—Jezebet. She was a picture of sophisticated Russian fashion, with short auburn hair that winged elegantly around her sharp, angular face and ears.
And then there was my father, sitting at the table next to Pharzuph’s with three other subdued Dukes. My dad stared at me. I swallowed the rush of overwhelming emotion that he caused me to feel. Knowing there was one power player on my side gave me a sliver of hope that I didn’t dare put stock in. He looked away from me, rubbing his thumb and finger down his goatee.
Kaidan poked me in the side. I spotted my group of Neph friends at the other end of the elongated room, farthest away, and headed toward them. I kept close to the wall with my head down, hoping Pharzuph would not catch my scent if I kept this distance.
Blake and Kopano sat together, and the twins sat at the table next to them. Kaidan went to the guys and I sat with the girls. We moved our chairs around so we’d all be facing the stage, with our backs to the wall. Nobody was behind us.
As I sat there I could feel my blood pulsing fast, buzzing under my skin. I kept my head down with my hair framing my face. I was able to see what was going on in the room, while feigning indifference.
Marna gave my leg a quick pat when it bounced. It took great effort to sit still. How much longer?
At the next table Kaidan continued to drink. The stress made my body crave drugs worse than ever. The glorious escape. A deep, dark, yearning pull made me want to scream and rail.
My head snapped up as the door to the comedy club opened a fraction. The redheaded guy, Flynn, entered, closing the door behind him and then standing guard in front of it. He gave a nod to the Dukes and the music cut off.
The desires of my sinful nature cracked and fell away like brittle glass, replaced by thick fear as Pharzuph stood and took the stage. He nodded his elegant head as he surveyed the room. His black hair was especially shiny tonight.
“Welcome, all. I trust that everyone had enjoyable travels to this wonderful city of New York. I regret we had to rush, but a certain problem has been put off too long. With all of the visitors to the city this weekend, we thought this would be the perfect opportunity to wreak havoc. The Dukes, Legionnaires, and Nephilim will reach many souls this night. So without further ado, let us complete our business at hand so we can move on to the greater joys of our life’s work. Shall we?”
Pharzuph gave a dazzling smile, and cheers of agreement ensued from the Dukes.
“Let us first call forth the messenger Azael so our lord Lucifer may be informed of these proceedings.”
Azael! He was the one who’d whispered to me at that party. My father trusted him.
In unison the Dukes emitted low hisses from the backs of their throats—a long hiss followed by two short ones, and repeated a second time. This was not a human sound. It had to come from deep in their souls, the stuff of horror films. Every Neph in the room went stock-still. I was covered in goose bumps and was starting to sweat, despite a triple layer of antiperspirant. I wanted to wipe my forehead, but I didn’t dare move and draw attention to myself.
Azael appeared as if coming up through the ground. He flitted grandly, with widespread wings, and then folded them in, a gray ghost hovering over the stage floor next to Pharzuph. Azael’s face appeared less frightening than those of the demons who had haunted me and stalked me the previous night. This one had catlike features, reminding me of a lion.