Infernal Justice (Angels at the Edge Book 2) Read online

  Infernal Justice

  Angels at the Edge: Book Two

  By Michael Arches

  Copyright by Pyrenees Publishing 2018

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  80105

  Chapter 1

  Sunday, August 6th

  LATE IN THE evening, I found myself perched atop one of the support towers for the Golden Gate Bridge. That was Honah’s idea of a practical joke. The head angel in North America is eleven thousand years old, and any sane person would think he should’ve outgrown this kind of stunt.

  In his defense, he claims to be young at heart. But truth be told, he has no heart. No angel does.

  On that Sunday night, the bay was free of fog. That was a blessing. City lights twinkled off to the southeast, and whitecaps extended out far to the west. A perfect evening for finding demons. I’m Gabriel Townsend, and that’s my job.

  The first time Honah plopped me here—a few weeks back—it hadn’t been such a lovely night. The fog was so thick I couldn’t see a thing. I’d arrived in human form, and a gust of wind quickly blew me off the same tower. I’d plunged most of the way to the water before I gathered my wits and transformed into my bird form, a peregrine falcon.

  Thank God, I reacted in time. Another second and I would’ve landed—splat onto the water at over a hundred miles an hour. It wouldn’t have killed me, but it sure would’ve hurt. I needed to keep my wits about me at all times in this dangerous, immortal world.

  A tingle of worry shot through me in response to that memory, but I pushed it away as I tried to forget so many other bad experiences. Instead, I needed to focus on the job at hand. The dark immortals I went after were fully capable of destroying me.

  Finding demons in general is easy. They’re literally everywhere. But finding a particular troublemaker was usually much harder. A minute before I’d arrived on top of the bridge, Honah had said, “The mayor’s older daughter has been murdered, and his younger daughter was kidnapped at the same time. The satanic forces in San Francisco appear to be targeting minors, a shocking new development. If demons are involved in these crimes, find them and the missing girl.”

  This was the chance I’d been waiting for since I’d been designated an angel first class a couple of months ago. The Angelic Legion had lots of fighters, but I was their first investigator. I needed to prove my worth over the long term, not just to earn my wings.

  After taking a deep breath to calm myself, I flew east toward a familiar landmark, Fisherman’s Wharf. Flying was still new enough to me that each time I took off, it was a leap of faith. Would my wings actually work?

  They did, just like the last time. I tucked my wings in close to dive. Then I opened them and swooped upwards like riding a roller coaster. What a rush!

  This time, I stayed far from Alcatraz Island. A week ago, I’d flown too close, and a flock of at least a dozen demons flying in their crow forms rose up to attack me. I only got rid of them by flying faster and heading in the wrong direction, which annoyed the hell out of Kiko, the guardian angel I was supposed to meet at a café in Berkeley.

  This time, I didn’t want to be late again. She expected me to arrive on time for a meeting at a bar in the seedy Tenderloin District where I hoped to get a lead or two on the missing girl and her sister’s killer.

  As I flew far above the water, everything seemed peaceful in lovely San Francisco. A gusting crosswind ruffled my feathers but didn’t blow me off course. I made landfall a thousand feet above Fort Mason. The moon had already set, and there were too many stars to count. Too bad I couldn’t stay up there for hours, but duty called.

  As I glided down toward the wharf, real life intruded on my thoughts. Honking horns and stinking diesel fumes rose to meet me. Homeless people shuffled around in the parks, and a few had already bedded down for the night. My eyesight was much better than a human’s, and even up high in the sky, I could see that too many people were trying to survive a cold and windy night outdoors.

  Unfortunately, I had no time to coax someone into a shelter. Instead, I dropped lower and headed southeast, looking for the ritzy Union Square shopping area. All the shops had closed, but I spotted my friend Cleo’s favorite chocolate shop. As I passed overhead, I caught the scent of milk chocolate lingering near the building.

  Then I flew west along O’Farrell Street. I entered the Tenderloin District and looked for the demon’s hangout I’d heard about. It was supposed to be across the street from a Chinese auto glass repair shop.

  When I found the business, I landed on the sidewalk and shifted into my human form to wait.

  A few minutes later, a slim, nondescript Japanese woman strode up. Kiko didn’t look all that powerful, but looks were deceiving. She was remarkably strong and could strike with lightning-quick speed. I’d seen her take the head off a goblin before he realized she’d pulled out her flaming white sword.

  Kiko rarely spoke more than a few words at a time to me, but I didn’t hold it against her. Her job was to keep me in one piece, and that wasn’t easy. Trouble followed me around, night and day.

  “Great to see you again,” I said.

  She nodded. “Proceed.”

  We walked across the street to an old brick building that looked like another run-down warehouse. There were no windows on the lower floor, and the only door was made of metal. It was dented, like someone powerful had smacked it a dozen times with a heavy sledgehammer.

  I understood that the bar inside was called Claim Jumper, but nothing outside hinted at a popular infernal watering hole behind the door.

  I glanced at Kiko to find out whether I’d screwed up again.

  “Your information is correct,” she said. “I sense dark immortals inside, none particularly powerful.”

  That was great news. I wanted to check out the demons without getting slaughtered in the process. The door contained a numeric keypad, but I didn’t know the passcode. Even if I had it, she and I couldn’t waltz inside and start asking questions no self-respecting scumbag would answer. No, we needed to sneak in by sharing the mind of an unsuspecting demon looking for a good time.

  Unfortunately, the street was deserted for blocks in both directions. The easiest answer was to wait. Kiko and I changed into our incorporeal forms and vanished. When the right jerks came along, we could secretly merge with their minds and hitch a ride indoors.

  The main problem with our incorporeal forms was we lost the use of all our normal senses, like sight and hearing. But as angels, we could sense the spirit of any sentient being that came by. A meteor as big as a house could hit the sidewalk where we’d been standing, leaving a huge crater, and we wouldn’t know until we changed back into a physical form.

  While we waited, Kiko and I stayed alert in case any powerful demon approached. He could sense our presence, and we’d need a few second’s warning to transform again and run like hell or fly away. Kiko could sense
danger from much farther away than a baby angel like me. I didn’t try to communicate with her mentally because I didn’t want to distract her from that crucial job.

  -o-o-o-

  TIME PASSED, AND finally, her voice sounded in my head. Attention, Gabriel. A couple of trolls are approaching. I will merge with the female.

  When they came closer, I sensed them, too, but sensing wasn’t enough. I had to wait until one of them came close enough to touch the keypad so I could merge into his mind.

  Patience, I told myself.

  The trolls came closer. The male approached to within a few feet, and I visualized sharing his mind. Just that easily, my spirit shared his head.

  My thoughts remained clear, entirely separate from his. I was engulfed in a sea of his memories and emotions, but I stayed separate, kept apart by some kind of magical membrane. Like I was swimming underwater inside his mind.

  Jesus Christ, that sucked. Both trolls reeked of sweat and rotting flesh. Rancid grease covered their hairy arms. His loincloth and her dress were soiled with the blood from a pig they’d eaten raw right before heading out. Trolls were about as filthy as any being could get. These two must’ve just transformed from human forms because they couldn’t hide like this in ordinary America.

  The guy keyed in a passcode that opened the door. He and his mate entered and immediately headed for a bar on the right side of the room. Without a word, the bartender served each of them a quart-sized tankard of beer.

  Before the barkeep could back away, Kiko and I both shifted into his head.

  He turned out to be a vampire. I could sense his attraction to the blood worn by the trolls, but he fought the temptation. He knew no good could come from staying close, particularly if they started to fight. According to my limited experience with the species, they lived to drink and fight.

  The vampire moved to the opposite end of the bar and sipped from a bottle of goat’s blood he kept behind the bar. I wasn’t about to discourage him. Bloodsuckers were much easier to handle if they stayed well fed.

  This was the first time I’d been inside this place, and I paid close attention to the patrons. They seemed to exist at the bottom of the infernal food chain. That was perfect for Kiko and me. They moved inconspicuously through their dark world, and none were strong enough to endanger me or my guardian angel.

  I checked the bartender’s mind to find out how often powerful demons showed up. Bad news—the bar’s owner was a minotaur, and he generally came by at least once a night. Kiko, do you see what I see?

  Her reply was immediate. Yes, minotaurs are extremely dangerous, but he usually arrives to collect the nightly receipts around five in the morning. We need to leave well before then.

  Works for me. I checked the vampire’s mind myself, and she was right, but sometimes he showed up much earlier. With my luck, tonight would be one of those nights.

  So, I needed to get to work right away. To plan my strategy, I paid attention to our surroundings. Overall, the room had been decorated to look like an old mine. The walls, floor and ceiling appeared to have been blasted out of solid rock. A pair of rails ran the length of the rectangular room, and an ore cart rested near the door.

  All the tables and chairs were made from roughhewn lumber, and each table contained a gold pan in the center that included a loaf of sourdough bread and a slab of butter. The only light came from dozens of kerosene lamps dangling from the dark ceiling.

  The waitresses were hags wearing long black dresses covered by filthy leather aprons. Their scraggly white hair generally hung loose but didn’t hide their pockmarked faces and missing teeth. One of them approached the bar, mumbling to herself about the end of days.

  As crazy as she seemed, she offered me my best chance to move throughout the room. I needed to wander from table to table, checking each demon in turn, to find out whether they knew any details regarding the murder and kidnapping.

  For a half-hour, I skipped from head to head in a variety of demons sitting at the twenty tables already occupied early in the evening. Kiko left me to it, preferring to stay inside the bartender and keep an eye out for danger. Her wariness allowed me to keep focus on learning as much as I could from the folks in this godforsaken old tavern.

  -o-o-o-

  AFTER HOURS OF wasted effort, I popped into the head of a satyr sitting with two of his buddies at a small table in one corner of the room. In their human forms, the three worked as groundskeepers at the city hall complex. That seemed like a promising opportunity.

  I checked the first satyr’s memory. He was old, with a tendency to drink all day long, so he didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the world. He knew nothing about the crimes I was investigating, except that he’d been grilled by a pair of cops. I urged him to ask, “What was going on with the pigs?”

  His younger buddy with muttonchop whiskers said in a low voice, “I saw the devils the cops wanted to find.”

  A thrill of excitement ran through my satyr, but I didn’t let myself get too excited yet. Demons were notorious liars.

  The third satyr, who was also young and blind in one eye, leaned forward. “Those girls were pretty, particularly the younger one. Seen them around a lot this summer. They work for their daddy in cushy jobs. No lawn mowing for the likes of them.”

  The old one I was inside belched. “What the hell happened to them?”

  “This morning,” Muttonchop said, “I’d noticed a pair of devils hanging out in human form, skulking around city hall, pretending to be tourists. They were horning in on our territory.”

  One Eye snickered. “I hope you told Gordo. He keeps reminding me to report all outsiders. Doesn’t like ’em a damned bit.”

  Muttonchop nodded. “Hates them as much as those bastard angels. I called him right away, but by the time the goblin shows up, those devils were gone. Gordo grumbled, but it wasn’t my fault he came too slow.”

  “That’s it?” Old Guy asked with a snort. He’d been expecting a story worth hearing.

  Muttonchop shook his head. “Four hours later, Gordo calls me in a panic. ‘We’re picking you up. Trip to the tower!’ I’m telling you, I almost shit my pants. I’m too young to die!”

  The others snickered.

  Old Guy said, “What a pussy. You obviously didn’t get whacked.”

  “Nope. Didn’t know that then, though. I was shaking as I rode in the car they sent. It had blacked out windows, like a hearse. Still don’t know where the hell they took me. The driver let me out, and we stood inside an underground garage. A minute later, Gordo walks out of an elevator and drags me into it. We go straight to the top floor.” He wiped his face with his hands. “I thought I’d never leave that place alive.”

  The other two satyrs laughed nervously and drank more beer. Gray Beard thought, You’re a lucky shithead. Most don’t come back.

  “So, what happened?” One Eye asked.

  “Gordo probed my mind, wanted to find out exactly what the devils had looked like.” One Eye’s voice lowered. “Worse, Caligula held my head between his long thin hands. He looks like a young movie star, thin as a rail. I was sure he was going to snap my neck. But he just smacked me once on the side of the head.”

  A chill full of fear ran down Old Guy’s back. The higher ups were known to kill for just the fun of it. Caligula loved murder more than anything. Old Guy fought to keep his bile from rising.

  “I was so scared I was stuttering,” Muttonchop said. “Almost passed out. Anyway, the big bosses think the devils I spotted were the ones who killed the mayor’s older kid and grabbed the younger one. They told me all the humans in the city are freaking out and said, if I saw those two again, I had to call Gordo right away.”

  One Eye laughed. “You got off easy. When Caligula catches those two, he’ll burn their skin off with hellfire and take the girl who lived. He’s sure to have a great time with her.”

  Muttonchop sighed wistfully. “Too bad we’ll miss out. A pretty piece.” A
fter a short pause, he said, “Anyway, just as my shift was ending, the first cops showed up. They asked me plenty of questions, but I didn’t know squat. Wouldn’t have told them if I knew. Soon, dozens more of the assholes arrived, surrounded city hall.”

  One Eye downed the rest of his mug of beer. “Radio says those two demons grabbed the girls from the sidewalk—broad daylight—as they were getting into a car. The bastards pulled the girls into a white van and took off.”

  “That took balls,” Old Guy said. “Undercover cops are always patrolling the area.”

  Muttonchop pulled out a smartphone and found a news story on the San Francisco Chronicle’s website. It showed a picture of seventeen-year-old Iris Winter, a tall, thin brunette who had wanted to be a nurse. She had been found dead in the stolen white van a few miles from city hall. She’d died from blunt force trauma to her face and back of the head.

  My heart ached for her. The pretty smiling girl in the picture had lost her life so early. Her family and friends had to be devastated.

  Then One Eye showed Old Guy a photo of fifteen-year-old Cassandra Winter, the mayor’s younger daughter. Her round face was radiant, and her eyes twinkled. Cassandra wore a traditional peasant dress, standing right next to her sister. Cassandra was a full head shorter. The article said she was a straight-A high school student and volunteered at an impoverished elementary school.

  You poor girl. She was incredibly vulnerable and deserved to be saved. All I could hope was that she remained alive and uninjured. While my heart went out to her, the monsters at the table tried to impress each other with how vicious they’d be to her if they could.

  Over the last couple of months, I’d heard plenty of revolting comments from demons, but these three sickened me almost to the point where I was blinded with anger. It took all my self-control to keep from changing into my fighting form, whipping out my sword, and taking all three of their heads.

  However, that wouldn’t have made Honah happy and wouldn’t help Cassandra. He hadn’t sent me to punish the wicked, no matter how much they deserved it. I was supposed to find the girl, hopefully before she was brutalized any more than she had been by witnessing her older sister’s death.