Entanglement

“What are you doing here?” Azlynn demanded. Charlotte’s eyes widened, then she frowned.

“Gee, nice to see you too,” she said sarcastically.

“Sorry,” Azlynn said. “We-I, just don’t get a lot of visitors.”

“I find that surprising. Every guy that lives here is a total hunk.”

Azlynn stared at her, puzzled. Then she realized; Gabriel and the other Warriors. She swallowed a snicker. Non-angels were always so easily smitten with the guardians of heaven.

“Um, yeah. They’re…hunks,” Azlynn echoed. “Seriously though, why are you here?”

“Drew went to find Dante and he said I should come get you so we can all go meet Will.”

“Why are you going? I was under the impression that you weren’t interested in helping your brother.”

“Yeah well, I changed my mind,” Charlotte muttered darkly. Azlynn decided not to push the issue.

“Just let me finish getting ready,” she said. “Have a seat.” She ushered Charlotte into her apartment, then shut the door.

“Damn. This place is posh,” Charlotte observed. Azlynn didn’t reply. Angels were not so materialistic as humans, but they did prefer to live in comfort. Azlynn slipped into her bedroom to finish getting dressed. She was wearing a sapphire blue, short sleeved dress that fell just above her knees, buttoned up the front with iridescent, pearl-like buttons, over black tights. She had applied make-up, thinking it might help her appear more human. Unfortunately, she had discovered that the dark eyeliner, rosy blush, and deep plum lipstick only enhanced her unusual and striking beauty. She’d been about to wipe it all off when she heard the knock at her door. She decided to leave it, figuring that Charlotte would notice if she was wearing it before and then suddenly wasn’t. Azlynn pulled her hair up into a loose, elegant bun and tugged on a pair of ankle-high, wedge heeled black boots.

She grabbed her purse and walked back into the living room. Charlotte was admiring the artwork on the walls.

“Ready?” Azlynn asked, eager to be out of the building. It was rare that anyone who wasn’t an angel was inside, and Azlynn was weary of anyone inadvertently discovering that the apartments housed angels.

“How many people live here?” Charlotte asked as Azlynn led her swiftly to the elevator. “I saw the few guys on my way up, and then you. But I didn’t see anyone else.”

“Most people who live here are at work this time of day,” Azlynn replied vaguely. As they stepped out of the elevator, she caught sight of Gabe talking in a low voice to Troy, one of the younger Warriors. Their conversation broke off as Azlynn and Charlotte approached. Azlynn snuck a glance at Charlotte and rolled her eyes as she saw the dewy look in her eyes as she stared at Gabe.

“What are you up to today, Az?” Gabe asked, leaning against the wall.

“I’m going to meet the chief; for that thing I told you about yesterday. This is Charlotte; she’s going to be on the assignment with me.”

Gabe nodded politely in Charlotte’s direction. “Oh, Charlotte this is Gabriel,” Azlynn added absently.

“Nice to meet you,” Charlotte said, smiling brightly.

“Likewise.”

“We should be going,” Azlynn said, grabbing Charlotte’s elbow. “Busy day and all.”

“Be careful out there, Az,” Gabe called, his voice full of meaning.

“I promise, Gabe,” she called back. Then she was tugging Charlotte out the front door.

“You actually know that guy?” Charlotte asked.

“Gabe? Well yes. We go way back.”

“Is he like, a boyfriend or something?”

Azlynn stopped short and stared at her. “Gabe? And I?” She promptly doubled over laughing.

“What?” Charlotte asked incredulously.

“No, no. Never,” Azlynn said after she caught her breath. “Gabe is…like family.”

Charlotte was about to answer when her cell phone rang. She tugged it out of her pocket. “Hello? Amanda? Slow down, slow down. You-I’m sorry, what? Who? Did you just say your girlfriend?” Charlotte sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Experimenting. I see. Yes, Amanda, I suppose curiosity is perfectly natural-yes, of course you’re entitled to make your own choices-Amanda, you’ve been searching for yourself for the last five years or so. Okay, sis, look; I’ll have to call you back later. I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.” Charlotte listened to more of the rapid babble on the other end of the line and sighed again. “I’m sort of…working on something for Will.” There was an indignant screech through the phone, and Charlotte held it away from her ear for a moment. “I know I said I’d never work for him, but this is important. Amanda, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I promise. Okay, okay, love you, bye.”

Charlotte hung up the phone. Azlynn pretended to study the cracks in the sidewalk.

“Teenagers,” Charlotte said with an awkward laugh. “What’re ya gonna do?”

“About what?” Azlynn asked. Charlotte shot her a weird look, but just then Sergeant Miller’s SUV pulled up to the curb.

“I call shotgun,” Charlotte said, yanking open the passenger side door. Having no idea what she meant, Azlynn climbed into the back, fighting back a noise of displeasure when she saw Dante sitting there already, a cigarette dangling from his fingers out the window.

“Hey there, kitten,” he drawled. She glared at him, slamming her door. He smirked. His black hair kept falling into his silver eyes but he made no move to push it out of the way. Today he was dressed in faded, torn up jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt that made the tattoo on his forearm visible. It was a black guitar; only the neck was a skeleton, the head a grinning skull. There was also a small black flame tattooed behind his ear that she hadn’t noticed before. Azlynn pressed herself against the door, trying to ignore the smell of wood smoke that surrounded him. It was strangely pleasant. Azlynn primly crossed her ankles and stared pointedly out her window.

Charlotte and Miller talked in low voices up front, and Azlynn stiffened when she felt Dante scoot closer to her.

“Why did you really pull the fire alarm yesterday?” he asked quietly, his breath tickling her ear.

“It was an accident,” Azlynn said firmly, refusing to look at him. He chuckled. “Sure it was. And I piss gold coins.”

“That sounds painful,” Azlynn said flippantly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly difficult?” he asked. Azlynn turned to look at him, unnerved to find his face inches from hers.

“Nobody but you,” she murmured sweetly. Then she smiled sarcastically and pushed him away.

“So where exactly are we going?” Charlotte asked.

“We’re going to one of the chief’s safe houses,” Miller replied. “We’ll have to work from there until they can rebuild the station.”

“What, precisely, does the chief want us for?” Azlynn asked.

“He wants you three to be part of a very elite team; working to figure out who’s been behind all these attacks lately.”

“Weren’t a lot of those attacks outside the chief’s jurisdiction?” Dante said.

“He’s not the only one working on it,” Miller said. “He was one of the people asked to join the think tank because of his excellent track record as a detective. He made chief at twenty-nine. That’s incredibly young.”

“Well shoot, and here I forgot to bring a card.”

“Don’t you come with an off-switch, DeMarco?”

“Yeah, your mom.”

Miller rolled his eyes and shook his head, clearly deciding that it was pointless. Dante slumped in his seat, his favorite position, apparently, and put his sunglasses on. No one spoke for the rest of the ride. Half an hour later, they pulled up to what looked like an abandoned office building. Not a particularly impressive place to save the world, but she supposed they had to take what they could get. Miller led them around to a side door. He gave two rapid knocks, paused, and knocked slowly three more times. The door opened a crack, and someone asked for the password.

“Something wicked this way comes.”

“That’s more than one word,” Dante pointed out. Miller ignored him as the door swung open.

“Hey, Miller,” the lanky man said. His skin was pale and his wavy hair was a dark reddish-brown.

“Whedon,” Miller nodded. The redheaded man caught sight of Azlynn, Charlotte, and Dante standing behind him. His eyebrow raised, then his eyes traveled up and down Azlynn’s body. She bristled, shooting him a deadly glare.

“Come on in,” Whedon said, leading them inside. He led them down several hallways and up a flight of stairs. He pushed open a door to reveal a room full of people. Azlynn saw the chief sitting at the table, poring over some papers. Another man raised his head, caught sight of them, and rose to his feet to greet Miller. Azlynn recoiled, her amulet pulsing hot against her chest beneath her dress.

“This is Special Agent Craig Morrison,” Miller was saying.

He’s more than that, Azlynn thought, trying to stifle the urge to tear her athame out of her purse and stab him through the heart. His king was difficult for anyone but an angel, a demon, or an extremely powerful Soul Reader to detect’ but Azlynn could smell it on him; the stench of decay and blood. Agent Morrison was a Dark Mage; a Necromancer and practitioner of death magic.