Skin Trade

My first thought was demon; then I knew that was just the front of my brain. I knew what the demonic felt like, and this was not it. It was power, raw and real, and destruction was in that fire, but it was holy fire, and only the unholy need fear it. But it takes faith to stand that close to the flame and not be afraid. How strong was my faith? What did I believe in as the darkness swept upward and Michael stood there with his sword and the shadow of angels at his back? I had a heartbeat to think, Oh, Michael, I get it.

The man stood there between me and the dark, and I could not let him stand alone. I moved to stand with the man, Michael, and that glowing shadow, reciting as I moved, “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle”-the fire burned brighter against the dark-“be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.” It was like the fire in holy objects that came when faith was all you had against the vampires. “May God rebuke him, we humbly pray: and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host…” It was as if I were seeing the source of every glowing holy object I had ever seen, burning before me. “By the power of God, cast into hell Satan…” I was at the edge of those burning wings, and for a moment I hesitated. The darkness swept up and over the man and the glow, and I knew that I had seconds to decide. What was I; whose side was I on? Was I holy enough to step into that light?

Marmee Noir’s voice spoke in my head, or maybe the darkness all around us spoke. “A piece of me is inside you, necromancer; if you step into the fire of God, you will be destroyed like any vampire.”

Was she right?

Then Michael the man stepped back, to put himself in harm’s way again. He faced that overwhelming ocean of darkness, when it had given him the chance to be left out of it. It wasn’t even thought; I moved forward, because he was trying to take my harm, my blow, my fate, and I couldn’t let him do that. I stepped into that fire and expected to be blinded by the light, but it wasn’t like that. It was as if the world were light, and I could only see the light, flickering and real around me. The man in front of me was real, and the fire was real, but…

“Necromancer, help me!”

I didn’t understand what she meant, but it didn’t matter. Evil always lies. I finished the prayer: “And all other evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen.”

It was as if the power around us took a breath, the way you’d do before blowing out a candle. The power took a breath, then let it out, but this breath was like standing at ground zero of a nuclear bomb. Reality blew outward, then re-formed. I half-expected the house to be destroyed around us, but we were left blinking in the living room of Phoebe Billings’s house. Not so much as a teacup had moved.

Edward was standing very close to us, but Phoebe was holding him back. Telling him, “Wait, Michael knows what he’s doing.”

I was standing behind Michael, as I had been in the “vision”; there was no burning sword in his hand, but somehow I knew, if he needed it, it would be there.

He turned around and looked at me with dark brown eyes, but there was a glimmer in them, a hint of fire, down in their depths. Not the light of vampires but of something else.

“Anita, talk to me,” Edward said.

“I’m okay, Edward, thanks to Michael.” And I meant the double entendre. I’d find a church and burn a candle for the Archangel Michael. It was the least I could do.

“Someone explain what just happened,” he said, and he sounded angry.

“What did you see?” I asked.

“You looked up and saw something, something that scared the hell out of you. Then he”-and he shoved a thumb in Michael’s direction-“went to stand by you. I tried to go to you, but she told me it wasn’t a matter of guns.”

“She was right,” I said.

“Then every holy object in the room burst into flame.”

“You mean they glowed,” I said.

“No, flame, they burned.”

“Bernardo panicked,” Olaf said, “and threw off his cross.”

I looked at the big man. I almost asked him how he justified faith in God with being a serial killer, but didn’t. Maybe later if I wanted to piss him off.

“Once I lost the cross,” Bernardo said, and I realized that he was the only one not standing close to us, “I saw… things.”

“What?” I asked.

“Light, darkness.” He stared at me from the edge of the couch. “I saw… something.” He looked pale and shaken.

I started to ask What? again, but Michael touched my arm. I looked at him. He shook his head. I nodded. Okay, let Bernardo’s vision alone. It had scared the shit out of him, and that made it private. He’d tell, or he’d get drunk and try to forget it. It’s not every day you see demons and angels. Marmee Noir wasn’t technically a demon, but she was an evil spirit.

“What is it that hunts you?” Michael asked.

“You saw it,” I said.

“I did, but I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

I stared up at him. “You stepped in her way, twice, and you didn’t know what she was, or what she could have done to you?” I couldn’t keep the astonishment out of my voice.

He nodded. “I am the black dog, the circle guardian. You are our guest, and no harm shall befall anyone in my care.”

“You have no idea what she could have done to you.”

He smiled, and it was the smile of a true believer. “It could not have touched me.”

“Is he talking about…,” and Edward hesitated.

“Marmee Noir.”

“Mother Dark,” Phoebe said.

I nodded.

“The dark goddess is not always fearful; sometimes she is restful.”

“She isn’t a goddess, or if she is, there’s no good side to her; trust me on that.”

“This was not goddess energy,” Michael said.

“Couldn’t you see it?” I asked.

“I could feel it, but I concentrated on repairing the damage to our wards so that more would not follow her. I trusted Michael to chase out that which had crossed our borders and to keep you safe.”

“That’s a lot to trust someone with,” I said.

“You’ve seen him armed for battle, Marshal; do you believe my trust is misplaced?”

I flashed back on the image of Michael with the burning sword and that shadow of wings over him. I shook my head. “No, it’s not misplaced.”

“Someone talk to me,” Edward said, “now.”

“I lowered my shields to see if the vampire was ours, and Michael here tried to taste my power by making the opening a little bigger.”

“You mean like what happened with Sanchez earlier,” Edward said.

I nodded.

“I did not damage your shields deliberately,” he said.

“I believe you,” I said. “And the Mother of All Darkness tried to eat me again. But Michael stopped her, cast her out.”

“To hell?” Bernardo asked, still looking haunted.

I shook my head. “I don’t think so, just out of here.”

“How did it get through our wards?” Michael asked.

“I think I carry a piece of her inside me all the time now,” I said. “Once you let me inside your wards, she had an in.”

“You don’t taste evil, Marshal.”

“She did something to me earlier today. It’s messed with my psychic abilities, opened me up, somehow.”

“I think we can help there, and I would love to hear more about what she is and how you came to her attention.”

“We don’t have time for this, Anita,” Edward said.

“I know,” I said.

“The Darkness has tried to eat her twice in the same day,” Olaf said. “Eventually, if Anita doesn’t learn how to guard herself better, she will lose.”

Edward and I stared at the big man. “How much did you see or feel?” I asked.

“Not much,” he said.

“Then why are you the one encouraging me to get all metaphysical?”

“Marmee Noir wants you, Anita. I understand obsession.” He stared at me with those cave-dark eyes, and I fought not to look away. I couldn’t decide which was more unsettling, the intensity in his gaze or the lack of any other emotion. It was as if, in that moment, he was simply pared down to the need in his eyes. “She’s chosen you for her victim, and she will have you unless you can fix what she damaged inside you, protect yourself better, or kill her first.”