“I heard you,” Armaros said without turning. “Now leave us… We have much to contemplate.”
The sorcerer was about to argue, but who was he to argue with an angel of Heaven?
Especially one who was going to help him feed upon the life force of millions.
Marlowe missed his Remy.
He zigzagged through the grass of Boston Common, taking in all the scents that had found their way there since the last time he’d visited.
“Don’t go too far, Marlowe,” Linda called after him.
He looked up, making sure she was safe before going back to work sorting out all the amazing smells.
Remy had told him to watch over the female, and that was exactly what he had been doing since Remy left. Marlowe was a good dog, and he would do anything his master-his Remy-asked of him.
And besides, he loved this female. She was quite nice and let him sleep on her pillow, and gave him treats every time he asked-and even sometimes when he didn’t.
The smell of squirrel urine was particularly pungent in one area, and the Labrador buried his nose in the spot, sniffing until he was satisfied that he could find that particular squirrel if he had to. He moved on to a much more pleasant scent-crackers left from a family picnic. He could smell the family members, each of them with their own distinct aromas: a female, a male, and a young female. The girl’s smell was all over the crackers that he gobbled up with ravenous abandon.
“You better not be eating garbage,” Linda warned, and Marlowe ate faster so she would have nothing to take away from him.
After all, he had worked hard to find these crackers.
Linda was getting closer. He could hear the jangle of the metal clip on the leash as she swung it in her hand. He wolfed down the last cracker and quickly darted away.
He wasn’t ready to leave.
There had been many people on the grass of the Common since the last time his Remy had brought him here; so many different smells stamped into the ground by the soles of their shoes.
And then he caught it-a whiff of something that made him stop at once.
It was a special smell. It was how his Remy smelled, and Francis, his friend.
An angel smell.
Marlowe looked up, tail wagging, already moving toward the familiar scent, until he saw the man standing there very still. Watching him with unblinking eyes.
The dog froze, head tilted back slightly as he sniffed the air. He did not know this one…this angel.
The angel stepped closer, eyes locked on his.
Marlowe began to growl, low and menacing. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see where the female was. She was a ways back, talking on her phone, swinging his leash to and fro.
Baring his fangs, Marlowe warned the unknown angel that smelled of sweat and desperation not to come any closer.
“You are his?” the angel asked in a tongue that the dog could understand. “You belong to the one called Remy Chandler?”
“Back!” Marlowe barked, charging ahead threateningly to drive the angel away.
The angel took two steps backward, holding out his hands to show that he meant no harm. “Answer me, animal,” he commanded. “Does Remy Chandler own you?”
“Yes,” Marlowe barked.
The angel appeared to grow excited, eyes darting around the park.
“Where is he? Show me… It’s very important that I speak with him, or…”
“Not here,” Marlowe answered with a series of barks.
“Then where?” the angel asked. “Where is he? There isn’t time to…”
Marlowe saw the angel’s eyes suddenly look above his head, and the Lab turned to see the female, Linda, approaching.
“Marlowe?” she questioned, hurrying along. “What are you doing?”
He ignored her, locking his eyes again on the angel, making sure that he did not make a move toward the female.
He felt her hands suddenly on the chain about his thick neck and heard the sharp click as Linda attached the leash to it.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized to the angel. “He’s never done anything like this before.” She began to pull the dog away as Marlowe struggled to keep his eyes on the angel.
“Do you know him?” the angel called out.
Linda stopped, turning around. “Excuse me?”
“Do you know him?” he asked again.
“Do I know who?”
“Remy Chandler,” the angel said.
Marlowe began to bark wildly as the angel reached into the pocket of his clothing.
“Marlowe, no!” Linda yelled, forcing Marlowe to sit beside her. “Yes,” she said to the angel. “I’m his girlfriend.”
The angel had removed a pen and a piece of scrap paper from the pocket and quickly wrote something down. He inched closer to the female, and Marlowe growled again.
“When next you see him, and I pray that it is soon, please give him this.” The angel handed her the scrap of paper. “Tell him that I must speak to him about a matter of grave importance.”
The female took the paper and looked at it.
“He’ll know what this is?” she asked. “What’s your name? Just in case he doesn’t-”
“Tell him that the Watchers are going to do something terrible,” the angel interrupted as he turned to walk away. “Tell him that they are going to try to change the whole world. And it’s all because of him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s not your place to.”
Marlowe and Linda watched the angel hurry away until he was lost among a group of tourists taking photographs beside the Soldiers and Sailors Monument.
And even though the female tried to pull him along, Marlowe fought her until he was certain.
Certain that the angel was gone.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There were monsters in the darkness.
But as Remy dragged Ashley around Deacon’s property, he hoped they would be safe as long as they stayed close to the patches of light thrown from the house. There had been an all-too-familiar flash moments ago that had driven many of the larger beasts back into the depths of the shadows.
Remy was weak. He was amazed that he was actually moving, the need to get Ashley back to her family probably lending him strength, but he knew it wouldn’t last. He had remembered that Scrimshaw had driven the old car around to the back of the house and figured there’d be a garage of some sort back there. That was their objective now: get to the car and drive back across the Shadow Lands, hopefully finding some way out.
The mansion was still in turmoil, but at least the alarm had been silenced. Primitive golems rushed about, making repairs and clearing debris. The chaos helped shield Ashley and Remy’s movements as they crept around to the back of the house.
And there was the garage. Remy had been right.
They stopped behind the skeletal remains of a bush, backs pressed against the house, and Remy took a moment to check Ashley. The girl was breathing heavily, eyes red from so much more than crying. He could imagine what this was like for her, and that just strengthened his resolve to get her home.
He studied the scene before him. The old vintage car that had brought him to the estate was parked outside the multicar garage. Light from a spotlight over the open door of one of the bays illuminated the area in a green-tinged glow. Two golems stumbled about the vehicle, cleaning it with rags.
Remy turned, leaning in close to Ashley’s ear so that she could hear his whisper.
“We’re going to take that car,” he told her. “Your job is to get inside; that’s it. I’ll take care of everything else. Do you understand?”
He looked into her eyes, hoping to see some trace of the vibrant young woman he had watched grow up on Beacon Hill, but only a shadow of that person remained.
A shadow would have to do.
“Follow me,” he said, still holding tightly to her hand.
There was nothing to hide their approach, so Remy waited until the two golems turned their stone backs. He tugged on Ashley’s hand and started across the expanse of driveway, dragging her behind him.