Fallen Reign (Sins of the Father 1)

When Raziel finally sighed, it was as if his body deflated. He lowered his hand, his shield disintegrating into golden dust as he did. The suit of armor followed, melting into the ethers.

“Samyaza, your father – he was one of us, once. Before he became Grigori, before he fell from heaven. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe he could have stayed among us if he hadn’t been so rebellious, if he’d only had some kind of guidance.” Raziel shook his head, staring at the ground. “You are a different breed, Mason, unusual even compared to your own kind, and there are those who would think to corrupt you. I thought that you could use a compass, someone who could teach you the things you needed to navigate the oddity of your life. So you wouldn’t fall any farther than your father did. So that you could take up his mantle with pride.”

I bared my teeth at him. “And then what? Serve heaven, work with the very people who threw my dad out, with the people who want me exterminated on principle?”

“I never said anything of the sort,” Raziel said, his hands stretched out. “You must believe me. I meant to show you what I knew, to teach you wh

at you needed. Your path through the universe is yours alone to forge. Have I not given you the freedom to choose, with every step of our friendship?”

My lips curled at the sound of the word. Hah. Friendship. “You could have told me all of this from the start, Raziel. You’re no better than Belphegor, or Beelzebub. You’re no better than the demons.”

He flinched at that, his face creasing with hurt. “I understand that you are furious with me now, Mason. But know that I will come when you call for me. You may send me away, but the others will keep coming. Again and again, and they may never stop.”

“You said I was entitled to free will. Then this is what I’m choosing.” I picked up the sheet of bloodied paper, the one with the circle and Raziel’s name hastily scrawled onto it. I crumpled it up, then let it fall to the floor. “I choose to go this alone.”

Even then, when Raziel’s gaze dropped, I could have told you that I believed so very fervently that he was still deceiving me, that he was still lying. His mouth opened briefly, as if he meant to say something more. Instead he lifted his head to the ceiling in silence, disappearing in a fleeting pillar of light. I blinked to clear the dazzle out of my vision, and he was gone.

Raziel was gone.

29

“That window, right up there,” I told Florian, pointing at the outside wall of the retirement home. “That’s Leonora’s room.”

Quilliam frowned as he looked between the two of us, his face illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight spilling through his car’s windshield.

“And you’re quite sure that you can handle this?” Quill said.

“I’d trust Florian with my life,” I told Quill, very seriously. I realized in that moment that I meant every word.

Florian smiled, broadened his shoulders, and jabbed a thumb in his chest. “Leave it to me, boys. Don’t you worry about a thing.” He nodded at me once, then left the car, creeping slowly towards the home.

“So he’s a dryad, you say?” Quill asked, one eyebrow raised. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses this time, possibly a result of me criticizing them at our encounter with Monica Rodriguez. “Must be a rare breed. Never heard of male dryads.”

“Me neither. But listen, he’s good at his work. I’ve seen him control these vine things and rip people apart. Um, not that he’s going to do that to Leonora.”

The plan was for Florian to get as close to the facility as possible, then send one of his sentient tendrils to snake up the building’s walls and infiltrate Leonora’s room. From my last visit with Quill, we already knew that she liked to keep her window cracked open a little, which was just enough space for Florian to send in one of his vines. Then he’d just need to poke around on her dresser and grab a hairbrush or one of those peinetas Monica talked about, and we’d be twenty thousand bucks richer.

“It might have been prudent for us to secure an invisibility cantrip for your dryad friend,” Quill said, rubbing his chin. “This place is pricy, and I’m sure they’ve covered their bases with cameras, no blind spots. But too late for that now.”

I clapped Quill on the shoulder. He looked at my hand with suspicion, and maybe a little horror, like he wasn’t comfortable or used to being touched. I retrieved my hand and cleared my throat.

“Relax,” I said. “You don’t worry about blind spots when you can blend into the foliage. Florian can turn into his own walking ghillie suit. Look.”

I turned to the home to point Florian out to Quill when I realized that I couldn’t even pick him out among the garden plants anymore. With his abilities slowly returning, Florian could very easily camouflage himself in a natural setting, adjusting the shade of his skin, even sprouting leaves and twigs where necessary.

“Huh. Well, I’ll be damned. Can you see him?”

Quill squinted at the garden. “Hmm. No, actually. That’s quite impressive. But wait. Ah. I see a vine, creeping up the walls.”

It was the only sign that Florian was even out there. Now, hear me out. I’ll be the first to admit: stealing from the elderly? Not my proudest moment. But I was over all of the Rodriguez family drama. Whichever of the two brujas was telling the truth didn’t matter anymore. I just wanted my money.

My heart thumped when I caught a glimmer of light from the window. Florian had retrieved something shiny, and the vine he’d sent up was racing down the walls, returning to – well, wherever the hell he was. I kept my eyes open as I waited for him to reappear, and I marveled as his body materialized from out of the shrubbery. He wasn’t there, a moment ago, then suddenly he was, dark jacket and jeans and everything. Florian jogged towards the car, a huge grin on his face as the vine trailing behind him receded into his body, but not before depositing his bounty in the palm of his hand.

Cool air rushed into Quill’s car as Florian opened the door and slid in, beaming proudly. “Did it. Did you guys see? No sweat. In and out, like a shadow.”

Like taking candy from a baby, an analogy that only made me feel worse. But for comparison’s sake, pretend that the baby can also use magic to hex you to within an inch of your sorry life. Florian reached over my seat and my shoulder to deposit his ill-gotten goods in my hand: one shiny, pearlescent peineta, complete with a few loose strands of Leonora’s hair.

“Well done,” Quilliam said, his voice genuinely pleased and congratulatory. “I must admit, you wildly surpassed my expectations.”