Page 81 of Bent Out of Shade
“My best guess,” he said, “is—
There was another boom and the line went staticky.
“Nav? Hello?”
“Can you hear me?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Destroy the amulet, and if this person doesn’t snap out of it, bring them to Carpe Demon. Bloody hell. Clea! Enough!” The line went dead.
I called Harry outside. He brought Nora with him, his large hand over her mouth, smothering her screams.
After kicking away some grass to make a circle of dirt, I lay the amulet down. The gargoyle stomped on it, smashing it, and then I burned the dust with a book of Bear’s Den matches that Harry had.
Nora slumped in his hold, shielding her eyes, even though she was in the shade. “I feel like I went on a bender.”
I scanned her carefully, but she seemed compulsion-free. “It was the amulet,” I said. “I’m so sorry. It didn’t do anything to me and I had no idea you’d be affected.”
She tugged free of Harry, skirting away from the ash, and examined her hands stained in a rainbow of colors. “Why do I have felt pen all over me?”
After giving her the synopsis of what had happened and thanking her, I left Nora with Harry, opting to Uber home despite the cost, because I had to get ready to see Zev and the ride would give me time to think.
What was a broken hallelujah? A hallelujah was a form of praising the lord, but if it was broken, was it a curse against God? Could it refer to something celestial, like the Ascendant that was used then tossed into Gehenna, perhaps breaking it in the process?
I hoped it was intact because I needed that sucker back in one piece for the Leviathan.
I rested my head against the seat. Every Banim Shovavim entering the KH for the first time was fed propaganda about how our damnation was a foregone conclusion because of Lilith, but I’d assumed that beyond telling that lie, Senoi, Sansenoi, and Sammaneglof were hands-off until we let our own doubts and self-judgment convince us that we deserved to be damned. Only then did they follow through with eternal torture.
According to the Leviathan, however, those angels were far more active—and pernicious. That story was magically set in our minds to prey on us, meaning that very few Banim Shovavim saw through the lie. Then the three angels carried out our eternal damnation.
Judge, jury, and executioner. Talk about a purity complex. I was happy to undermine them and help the sea monster escape.
Except it didn’t make any sense for them to be communicating with me via the amulet. Maybe they couldn’t snatch me out of the KH since I’d seen through their propaganda, but why bother with human middlemen? Just show up.
I fanned out my shirt, letting the air-conditioning flow over me.
When I got home, I’d strike the Consortium off my board as having anything to do with my past or my parents. They had their own people to come after me; they didn’t need that cockamamie amulet.
Except once again, that left me with some demon as my prime suspect, a fiendish being who was hardly conflict averse, and wouldn’t bother to cover up their nefarious deeds. So not them either.
Not only did I not have any suspects for my parents’ murders, I had no clue who’d summoned me, warning me off the evil those three figures represented and alerting me to follow the whispers.
My head pounded in a tight throb that stretched down my neck and into my shoulders. I rifled in my purse for some Tylenol and dry swallowed two pills, falling back against the seat.
The driver was listening to some rock station’s ’70s hour and the upbeat tone took a mellow turn as “Bennie and the Jets” was replaced by “Wish You Were Here.” Exhausted from my thoughts going in circles, I half dozed in a pool of sunshine, singing along in my head. Eli had introduced me to this album in university, both of us stoned and lying on his futon, with candles flickering around the room, and the guitar washing over us.
The Uber sped through downtown to “Let It Be” and headed up Main Street to some song by Fleetwood Mac called “Angel” when my head snapped up, lyrics tumbling through my mind.
Heaven and Hell, the wish that you were here, those whispered words of wisdom, it was like the radio was speaking to me. In a crazy person conspiracy theory way sure, but while the thought that hit me was absolutely bonkers, it made perfect chilling sense.
The song wasn’t called “Angels,” it was “Angel.” Singular.
The second I got home, I ran upstairs into my office and started furiously writing everything down on the whiteboard.
The Ascendant opens riffs to Gehenna.
Monsters should stay in the dark.
