Dead Harvest

  I ushered them out the door and into the van, slamming shut the doors behind them. A glimpse of flashing red and white through an alley, a siren's wail approaching. The van's engine didn't want to catch. Just a sputter, then nothing, over and over again. Eventually, though, it fired to life, and I dropped it into gear, lurching away from the curb without lights and screaming down the street.

  "Where are we going?" Kate asked.

  "Don't know. First thing is, we've got to find a spot to ditch the van – somebody might've seen us snatch Merihem, and even if they didn't, the thing's too hot to hold for long. After that, you three are gonna hafta hole up a while. I'm gonna try and get some answers."

  "But with Merihem gone, aren't you kinda out of sources?"

  "No," I said, my face set in a frown. "There is one other."

19.

"Collector," she said, a smile dancing across her luscious lips – lips painted a red so deep they looked black by the pale glow of the moon. The color of lust, I thought. Of blood. "I confess, I was surprised you called – and as you know, I don't surprise easily."

  "Thanks for meeting me here, Lily."

  Her smile faltered. On that face, with those lips, it was like snuffing out the sun. "You know I hate it when you call me that," she said, "and as for meeting you, it's not as if I had a choice."

  She was right, about the latter, at least. I'd ditched the van in an alley off of Lafayette. Allison Park was just a couple blocks away, all old-growth forest and verdant lawns and quiet. Once an asylum for dying sailors, the park would suit my needs just fine. I'd stashed the three kids in a picnic shelter buried deep within the trees. Just a shingled roof atop a dozen rough-hewn posts, a stack of picnic tables chained together in one corner, the structure was more concealment than shelter, but it was well away from prying eyes, so for now, it'd have to do.

  Once there, I'd sent Anders in search of a few supplies: a cast-off feather; the branch of a withered, dead tree; a night-blooming flower. When he returned, I'd set off east through the trees, my items in tow. I'd also taken Anders' knife, and Pinch as well, who looked a little ill at the request. But still he came, and when I told him what I'd needed, Pinch never faltered. His blood dripped black onto the makeshift altar I'd constructed out of stones at the center of the asylum's old cemetery, and he retreated to the forest's edge, dabbing at his arm with a kerchief.

  Really, I don't know what the hell I was thinking, bringing her there. I'd considered taking the seraph up on his offer of calling upon him should I need anything, but I didn't know what constituted cause for summoning an angel. Besides, what I needed was the skinny on who could've framed Kate, and as far as that went, So'enel played for the wrong damn team. All of that sounded plausible enough, and all of that paled in comparison to the simple fact that the reason I hadn't summoned the angel was because he scared the shit out of me. That left me with no option but Lilith.

  For all my effort, I wasn't at all sure she'd show – these sorts of invocations are more the domain of the living, and my Sumerian ain't exactly up to snuff. But show she did, strolling out from a copse of trees in a sheer nightgown that only served to amplify the graceful, feline movements of the body it was intended to conceal.

  "So," she said, strolling barefoot toward me and running a fingernail down my face, my neck, "what is it I can do for you, Collector?"

  "I need some information."

  "Ah. I see. Tell me, are the stories true? I hear you've grown yourself a conscience. That you've gone rogue. That you've defied the Maker and the Adversary both."

  "I'm just trying to do my job."

  "You are." She smiled again. My heart skipped.

  "I am. Only I'm not sure this is my job to do."

  A frown settled on her face, delicate and adorable. "I'm not sure I understand. You are a Collector. Your job is to collect. More specifically, your job is to collect those souls I tell you to collect. Honestly, I'm having difficulty understanding why I shouldn't just report this little revolt of yours the moment I take my leave of you, and wash my hands of this whole sordid affair."

  "Lily, what if this girl isn't meant to be collected?"

  She laughed then, a throaty purr I could feel in my socks. "Tell me, Collector – is she beautiful?"

  "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

  "I'll take that as a yes. So what, you think if you can save the girl from hell, you'll become a real boy, and the two of you will ride off into the sunset?"

  "I know damn well it's too late to save myself. But this girl's an innocent. It's not too late for her."

  "Is she nearby?"

  I hesitated. I wished I hadn't. "She's safe."

  "Of course she is. I only asked because you could not have brought me here without the blood of an innocent willingly given, and we both know yours hardly qualifies…"

  "I found another volunteer. This isn't exactly my first day."