Without a word Mac held up his bottle in a salute to Murphy.
I joined him. Murphy shook her head tiredly and returned the salute.
We drank together, and my tongue decided that any other brew it ever had would probably be a bitter disappointment from this day forward. Too many flavors to count blended together into something I couldn’t describe if I’d had a week to talk about it. I’d never had anything like it. It was God’s beer.
Mac drained the bottle in a single pull, with his eyes closed. When he lowered it, he looked at Murphy and said, “Bravely done.”
Murphy’s face was flushed with relief and with a reaction to her beer that was at least as favorable as mine. I doubt Mac could have seen it, but I’d known Murph long enough to see that she started blushing, too.
Mac went back to the bar, leaving Murphy and me to finish our bottled ambrosia.
“Okay,” Murphy said in a weak voice. “Where were we?”
“You were about to tell me how you thought I was wrong and that the Chicago PD needed to intervene.”
“Oh,” Murph said. “Right.” She stared after the departed gruff for a moment. “You said that that thing was from the nicer of the two groups causing us grief?”
“Yep,” I said.
“We’ve gone up against the supernatural three times,” she said quietly. “It’s ended badly twice.”
We meaning the cops, of course. I nodded. One of those occasions had killed her partner, Ron Carmichael. He hadn’t been an angel or anything, but he had been a good man and a solid cop.
“All right,” she said quietly. “I’m willing to hold off for now. On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I’m in from here on out. You obviously need someone to protect you from the big, bad billy goats.”
I snorted. “Yeah, obviously.”
She held up the last of her beer. I held up mine.
We clinked them, finished them, and went back out into the winter cold together.
Chapter Eighteen
“All right,” I said. “I hearby call this war council to order.”
We were all sitting around my tiny living room, eating Burger King. Thomas and Molly had voted for McDonald’s, but since I was paying, I sternly informed them that this was not a democracy, and Burger King it was.
Hail to the King, baby.
Murphy rolled her eyes over the whole thing.
“War council?” Molly asked, wide-eyed. “Are we going to start another war?”
“I sort of meant it as a metaphor,” I said, as I made sure the ketchup-mustard ratio on my burger was within acceptable parameters. “I need to decide on my next step, and I’ve been hit in the head a few times lately. Figured my brain could use a little help.”
“Just now worked that out, did you?” Thomas murmured.
“Quiet, you,” I growled. “The idea is to generate useful thoughts here.”
“Not funny ones,” Molly said, suppressing a laugh.
I eyed her. She ate a french fry.
Murphy sipped at her Diet Coke. “Well,” she said, “I don’t know how much advice I can give you until I know what you’re up against.”
“I told you in the car,” I said. “The Knights of the Blackened Denarius.”
“Fallen angels, old tarnished coins, psychotic killers, got it,” Murphy said. “But that doesn’t tell me what their capabilities are.”
“She’s got a point,” Thomas said quietly. “You haven’t said much about these guys.”
I blew out a breath and took a big bite of hamburger to give me a moment to think while I chewed. “There’s a lot that these things can do,” I said afterward. “Mostly, the coins seem to allow their users to alter their physical form into something better suited for a fight than a regular human body.”
“Battle shapeshifting,” Molly said. “Cool.”
“It isn’t cool,” I told her. Then I paused and admitted, “Okay, maybe a little. It makes them harder to hurt. It makes them faster. It arms them with various forms of weaponry. Claws, fangs, that kind of thing. Cassius looked like he might have had a poisonous bite, for example. Ursiel’s wielder could shift into this huge bear thing with claws and fangs and horns. Another one turned her hair into about a million strips of living titanium blade, and they were whipping all over the place and shooting through walls. Stretched out like twenty or thirty feet.”
“I have some customers like that,” Thomas quipped.
Murphy blinked and glanced at him.
I cleared my throat and gave Thomas another glare. “Another one of them, Nicodemus, didn’t seem to do any shapeshifting, but his freaking shadow could leap off the wall and strangle you. Creepy as hell.”
“They don’t all have, like, a uniform or something?” Molly asked.
“Not even close,” I replied. “Each of the Fallen seems to have its own particular preferences. And I suspect that those preferences adapt themselves differently to different holders of the coins. Quintus Cassius’s Fallen had this whole serpent motif going, and Cassius’s magic was pretty snake-intensive, too. But he was totally different from Ursiel, who was totally different from Mantis Girl from this morning, who was different from the other Denarians I’ve seen.”
Murphy nodded. “Anything else?”
“Goons,” I said. “More like a cult, really. Nicodemus had a number of followers whose tongues had been removed. They were fanatics, heavily armed, and crazy enough to commit suicide rather than be captured by his enemies.”
She winced. “The airport?”
“Yeah.”
“That it?”
“No,” I said. “Nicodemus also had these…call them guard dogs, I guess. Except that they weren’t dogs. I don’t know what they were, but they were ugly and ran fast and had big teeth. But all of that isn’t what makes them dangerous.”
“No?” Thomas said. “Then what is?”
“The Fallen,” I replied.
The room fell silent.
“They’re beings older than time who have spent two thousand years learning the ins and outs of the mortal world and the mortal mind,” I said quietly. “They understand things we literally could not begin to grasp. They’ve seen every trick, learned every move, and they’re riding shotgun for each coin holder—if they aren’t in the driver’s seat already. Every one of them has a perfect memory, a library of information at his immediate disposal, and a schemer that makes Cardinal Richelieu look like Mother Teresa hanging around in his brain as an adviser.”
Thomas stared at me very hard for a moment, frowning. I tried to ignore him.
Murphy shook her head. “Let’s sum up: an unknown number of enemies with unknown capabilities, supported by a gang of madmen, packs of attack animals, and superhumanly intelligent pocket change.” She gave me a look. “It’s sort of tough to plan for that, given how much we don’t know.”
“Well, then that’s what we do next, isn’t it?” Molly asked tentatively. “Find out more about them?”
Thomas flicked a glance at Molly and nodded once.