Echoes of the Past

Chapter Nine

A mile or two outside of town, the sun was creeping over the horizon. The abnormally green desert surrounded me as I parked my confiscated Impala and waited for my cousin to show up. She clearly wasn’t in anything resembling a rush. I’d already paced a furrow in the wet dirt and contemplated asking the Chinese for help since I was damn near halfway to their country by the time she finally arrived.

Leaving behind a trail of shimmering light, she dropped from the sky and landed gracefully before me. She still looked battered, but I guess that made sense seeing how I’d just seen her at Abe’s funeral that morning. The inter-dimensional time change was still screwing me up. She’d exchanged her dress and sunglasses for her usual leather outfit. Everto Trucido hung in its place at her hip with a brand new scabbard.

Her bruised face was grim. “Frank,” She said, her voice was barely a whisper.

I bit back a snarky comment about her tardiness as another streak followed just a second later, the angel Raguel joining us. It wouldn’t do me any good to ruffle Scarlett’s feathers seeing how I called her. I needed a favor.

“Hi, Raguel.” I greeted the other angel with nod. Unlike when I’d first encountered him, there was a sense of his power drifting off him this time. He was no longer incorporeal, a being of nothing more than willpower and memories. Still dressed in his bronzed battle armor, his own runic sword was at his side. His wild gray hair was tied into a long tail behind his head. It made his sharp features even more so, seeming to pull the wrinkles of his face into deeper lines.

“Triggaltheron.” He gave a curt bow, his icy blues eyes appraising me. “Scarlett has told me what you seek. Why should I do this for you?”

He was all business, but it’s not like I expected rainbows and fluffy kittens. That was okay, though. I had a pretty good idea he would help, seeing how he wouldn’t have come all the way from Heaven just to tell me no. There’s a card for that. “No reason at all, but I’m still asking for your help. Before he was shut down, Azrael spoke to me of my mother and a relationship with Lucifer. I need to learn more about that.” I had no interest in divulging all of the details, but I had to offer Raguel something or he’d have no reason to help.

Scarlett’s lips pulled back into an unconscious sneer at the mention of my uncle’s name. I could relate.

“I need to know whether he was just yanking my chain out of some sick desire to torment me, or if he really knows something about my family history; my past.”

“Do you think he was telling you the truth?” Scarlett asked. Her eyes were narrow and sparkled with doubt.

I looked at her and shrugged. “I hope not, but if he was, then the whole of who I am is nothing more than a lie. I have to know.”

Raguel stared at me, the cold chill of his eyes making me feel as though he were peering inside me. After a long moment, he nodded. “I will grant your wish, Triggaltheron, only because of what you’ve done for the Kingdom, but beware Azrael. He has long lived apart from Heaven and is no longer an angel in any sense of the word. Trust only that he serves himself, and no other.”

He turned away and I felt the sudden buildup of power. Immediately, the dimensional wall was torn open, a glistening shimmer of golden energy bridging the gap between two realities: Earth and Limbo.

“I have warded the passage so no one but you may enter or leave Limbo. It will remain open for two hours only. Be sure you are through it before then or you will be trapped inside.”

“Thank you,” I told him after he’d recited the steps that would lead me to Azrael.

Raguel said his farewells and streaked into the sky, leaving me alone with my cousin.

“Are you sure about this, Frank? Our bloodlines are tangled enough as it is. I can’t imagine anything you’d learn from Azrael would be good news, even if he could be bothered to tell you the truth.”

“Probably not, but there are too many lies to ignore. I doubt the truth can be much worse than what I’ve been led to believe.”

She shook her head. “You’re lying to yourself now, but do what you must.” Scarlett came over and hugged me tight. It caught me off guard, and I scrambled to return the embrace. When she pulled away, she smiled. It was a genuine, honest smile. “Thank you for saving my home, Frank. No matter what you find in there, she gestured to the portal, “you shall always be in my heart, as family.”

A second later, she was in the air, nothing but the trail of her power still visible. The awkward moment over, I turned to the look at the dimensional rift. I didn’t have much faith Azrael would open up and tell me the truth if I just asked him, so I’d come prepared to do more. That wasn’t something I wanted to let Scarlett or Raguel know. For all their reasons to kill Azrael, they’d simply turn the other cheek seeing how he was already beaten. Down and out, he was just another soul who had to worry about a redemption that was never gonna come. For me, down and out was exactly how I wanted him.

No time to waste, I stepped into the portal and felt myself transported to Limbo. Its gray emptiness was a shock to the system after being on Earth. Made entirely of swirling clouds that obscured everything, Limbo was a colorless void designed to stash the spirits of the dead on the way to their final destination. With no landmarks or buildings, absolutely nothing to judge direction or distance by, you had to know exactly where you were going or you wouldn’t get there. Worse still, lose your way and you wouldn’t be able to leave. It was like having a TV with only PBS-mind-numbing.

Fortunately, I knew where I was going and had a trick for finding my way back. I slipped one of the DA slayer bullets out of one of the extra cartridges and dropped it at the portal. Since the bullet was made out of the essence of an angel and a demon, it gave off a tiny flicker of their combined power. It wouldn’t be a lighthouse, but it would provide me with a distinct enough distinct signal for me to catch my bearings should I get turned around. Better still, someone would have to be almost looking for a ping that small to notice it, so I didn’t have to worry about coming back to a horde of trapped creatures trying to use me to get out of Limbo.

Bullet in place, I headed off, keeping count of the steps I took. Raguel had set the meet close to an area that lined up with Azrael’s dump point in Limbo, so it wasn’t long before I arrived. I expected to have to hunt him down a bit, figuring he would have wandered off, but I was surprised to see him hunched over and sitting at the location I’d been given, to the exact step.

He looked up as soon as the clouds parted between us. “Come to gloat, have you?” His voice was quiet, soft, carrying none of its usual forcefulness.

I pulled another bullet out and dropped it into the clouds, just in case. “I only came to talk.” I didn’t see the point in kicking him when he was down…not yet, at least. There was nothing to lose by playing nice. I had time for Plan B. C through Z were all the same.

Azrael stood. He wore the same black robes as he had the last time I’d seen him, but now they hung loosely across his emaciated frame. Pale, his skin stretched taut across his sharp features, he still looked like death warmed over, but there was none of the intimidation that had been such an integral part of his being. He looked like an old man, counting the minutes until the end came.

Bereft of his powers, which Raguel had inherited, Azrael looked so…normal. There were none of the obsidian clouds that whirled about his feet or any of the fire in his gaze. He stood on the cloudy surface of Limbo and his eyes were a murky brown. I let my senses loose and felt the barest hint of his essence, little more than a pittance to keep him among the living. The cold wash of the tomb had been replaced by a numb emptiness of a disconnected soul. He had truly been forsaken. He was nothing more than skin and bones with an immortal spirit.

“I’ve nothing to tell you, Triggaltheron.” Azrael shook his head. “You were given the opportunity for answers, but you chose to stand against me. Leave me to my banishment.” He dismissed me with a casual wave. “At least I know I won’t suffer alone.” The angel laughed, the sound lacking his trademark graveyard grumble. It had more than enough stubbornness to make up for it.

I walked over and stood right before him, meeting his cold gaze. Without any hesitation, I yanked my gun out and shot him in the foot. So much for plan A.

Azrael shrieked and fell backward, crashing to the ground to clutch at his wound. The clouds swirled and I brushed them aside as I closed the distance between us. He looked at me with fury in his eyes, and I shot him in the hand.

Once more, Azrael’s shout echoed through Limbo, my ears ringing in its wake. He scrambled toward the cover of the smoke, but I stalked him, staying right on his heels. Before he could get further than a few yards, I stepped down on his injured foot and pinned it to the ground. He growled and clutched at my ankle with his good hand, trying to pry himself loose. I set the barrel of my gun to his thigh.

“I’m all for suffering, but just so you know, I fully intend to make sure you do the lion’s share of it.” Again, I pulled the trigger.

Azrael crumpled into a heap. I took a step back but stayed close. It seemed pretty obvious I’d gotten my point across, but you never know with supernaturals. They don’t think like normal people. You can never be sure of what they’ll do. Logic and reason are a foreign concept to them.

Azrael lay there for a minute, whimpered little breaths spewing from his mouth, but he didn’t move. After another minute, his voice rose in his throat and his gasped complaints turned into a phlegmy chuckle.

“No matter how much you deny it, Triggaltheron, you are just like your father.” He rolled onto his back and glared up at me, the flicker of a grin at his lips.

“What a coincidence. That’s exactly who I came to talk to you about.” I moved a step closer. “I guess we’re having a conversation after all.”

His laughter ended, but I could still see the stolid defiance in his eyes. “Do you truly think you’ll find the answers you seek by torturing me? It would bring me great satisfaction to die knowing I’ve told you nothing of the puzzle that vexes you.”

“It sounds to me like you and I are contemplating the same end game.” I moved closer, lifted my gun and pointed it at his shin. “Sadly, I think I’ll be the only one who enjoys your long, drawn out crawl into oblivion.” The next bullet tore into his leg.

Azrael shrunk back and curled into a ball on his side. His breaths spewed in pained gasps. He trembled as he attempted to salve his injuries. I’d come here ready to kill him, if I had to, but as satisfying as it would be to put a bullet in his eye, I knew it wasn’t a good idea. Azrael knew something about my family, and I’d be damned if I didn’t try my hardest to get it out of him before I sent him on his way.

“How about now? Do you have something to tell me yet, or do I put another hole in you?” I kicked him over onto his back so we were face to face. His lips quivered and his eyes were moist. “You and I both know these little flesh wounds aren’t gonna kill you, so we can keep going. I cleared my schedule so I’ve got as much time as it takes.” I thumped my foot against his hurt leg. He winced and pulled away. “Tell me about the relationship between Lucifer and my mother.”

Azrael growled at me through clenched teeth. “Do you want to hear more about her rape? How the smell of her sex filled the air, wet from the grunting violation she loved so much. Is that what you’re looking for?”

I squeezed a round off into his elbow.

Azrael hissed and pulled his arm against his ribs. Pained eyes glared up at me, but he sneered, his defiance intact. “Or would you rather hear about how she was cut into pieces while still alive, hacked apart limb by limb, the blade slicing into her pale fle-“

I shot his other foot, following it up with a bullet to his damaged shin.

Azrael flopped in agony, spewing curses and spittle into the clouds.

“I have to tell you, buddy, you’re starting to piss me off.”

His body was wracked with twitches, but he managed to pull himself into a seated position. Blood spilled from his wounds and lent color to the misty haze beneath him. He stared at me without speaking. Stubborn was winning out. It was time to shift gears.

“There’s only two more rounds in the gun.” I waved my. 45 before him. “However, I brought along a bunch of extra clips. When I run out of those, I’ve got a few creative ideas on how we can continue our little game, and I promise I won’t disappoint you.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the vial of Lucifer’s blood. Azrael’s gaze darted to it. “You know what this is, I’m sure. You can sense it, even muted as you are. Just a couple of drops and you’ll be healed up and ready to start all over. You don’t even have to cooperate. All I have to do is rub it in one of your wounds to get the full effect.”

He sat silent another moment, staring at me, until I lifted my gun again. He flinched and raised a dripping, crimson hand. “Enough, demon.” Azrael sucked in a ragged breath. “You’ve made your point. I’ll tell you what you want to know, but only after you’ve done something for me.”

Now we were getting somewhere. Everything in the supernatural world came at a price: a bargain, a trade, the promise of favors. That we’d reached the negotiating stage was a good sign. There was a real chance I’d find out what I wanted to know. I really didn’t plan on giving Azrael anything in trade for the information I sought, but it didn’t hurt to let him think I was willing to deal.

I lowered my gun to my side and smiled. “You looking for an all-expense paid trip to Tahiti or a professional makeover to clear up that papery skin thing you’ve got going on?”

He spit of thick glob of blood into the clouds. “I want only one thing from you, Triggaltheron: kill me.”

I hadn’t expected that. I figured he’d want a way out of Limbo, or that he’d ask me to take out Raguel so his powers would revert back, but he definitely caught me off guard by asking me to off him. “As much as I would love to, that kind of screws up the whole you telling me stuff angle I was going for. Even with a necromancer for a girlfriend, I wouldn’t be able to get you talking after I turn out your lights.”

He grinned. “Not true, Triggaltheron.” He pulled himself to his feet, struggling to stand on his wounded limbs. I didn’t bother to help. “Though Raguel has dominion over my magic, the part of my essence that holds the truth of what I know is still here.” He tapped his temple and then his heart. “Were you to slay me, you would inherit my spirit and all the wisdom and memories it contains.”

“You’re talking about a soul transfer?” Though I’d only experienced a few of them in my time, it was common knowledge a demon inherited the power of another supernatural that he killed, but I’d never known it to pass along memories. I haven’t had it happen. It sounded like Azrael was playing me for a fool. “I’m calling bullshit. I’ve had my share of soul transfers, and never have I inherited more than the magic of those I’ve killed.”

“You have never killed anyone like me.” His grin spread, his pale cheeks stretched in its wake. “I am no average angel whose power can be so easily separated from him as Raguel presumes. While he might steal my magic and keep me imprisoned in my flesh, he cannot take the essence of who and what I am while I still live. Let Raguel gloat upon his hollow trophy, but I offer you the true spirit of Azrael, the Angel of Death.” He drew closer, limping, doing his best to puff his bony chest out. “You have only to kill me, Triggaltheron. Free me from this eternal prison of nothingness and all you wish to know will be yours, and so much more.”

Azrael stopped right before me, meeting my eyes with the rigid brown of his own. I stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. Would killing him truly give me access to the answers I was looking for? Did it really matter? He had no intention of talking to me no matter how much I tortured him. I could be at it for days. As fun as that sounds, I’d likely never learn anything, so what was the point? He wanted to die. I wanted to kill him.

Done deal.

I nodded and pressed my gun under his chin. He smiled. I pulled the trigger.

The shot ripped through his head and exited the top of his skull. Blood and brains exploded in a volcano of chunky gray and red. Azrael crumpled as the last of his life rained down over his body. He was dead before he hit the ground, the swirling haze burying him in a cloudy grave.

I stood there a moment, feeling nothing, and then the soul transfer hit. It wasn’t much of one. I felt a vague warmth bubble in my belly and a slight tingle across my skin, but that was it. Normally orgasmic, filling your veins with a methamphetamine rush mixed with ecstasy, this one felt more like I’d accidentally rubbed up against a dusty TV screen. A little bit of a static tickle and it was done.

Certain that Azrael had tricked me, I dug down deep to look for his essence. To my surprise, I found it easily. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. The closest thing I had to compare it to was when Baalth had me swallow a portion of his powers, the process leaving them inside me until I called upon the magic and made it my own. Thinking I had to do the same with this, I pushed against Azrael’s essence with my senses and willed it to surrender to me.

Nothing happened.

I could feel it in me, pick out the subtle flicker of Azrael, the scent of the tomb, but there were no memories I could find. The essence felt as though it were sealed against me, keeping me from prying inside. Something stopped me from cracking the shell of it and absorbing Azrael’s history.

Disappointment welled up, and I growled at my stupidity. I’d let Azrael trick me into killing him. He’d told me the truth, but not all of it. I should have known better. There’d be no answers from him or the tiny remnant I’d acquired through the soul transfer. He’d gotten what he wanted, and I’d gotten nothing more out of it than the pleasure of putting a bullet into his head.

It’d have to do.