Page 6 of Black Curtain

“You know of the human group, yes, Charles? Archangel? They are familiar to you, I am told?”

Faustus didn’t answer.

He kept his face infiltrator still, but for the first time, the vampire managed to throw him. Archangel? The human mercenary group? The ones who fancied themselves kingmakers and kingun-makers in this world?

Faustus knew of them, certainly.

He’d infiltrated them off and on for the last six decades.

He knew Black had his share of run-ins with the mercenary group, as well. One of their members went rogue and nearly murdered him.

He didn’t voice any of this to the vampire.

Brick didn’t seem to care about the details of their past history, either.

“Well, I had a little chat with some of their lieutenants. Eventually, I had a muchlongerchat with their leaders, as well. ‘The Priests,’ I believe they are called?”

Brick shrugged as if this were another detail he found uninteresting.

Faustus could not help but gape at him. A “chat” with the leadership of Archangel was something Faustus had attempted to accomplish for the past sixty years. He had never succeeded. He’d learned they were called “The Priests,” but never managed to approach them.

“Well.” Betial sighed, pursing his lips. “As it turns out…theyhad already decided they don’t like this new world you created either, Charles. Like I said, there was little to no disagreement with our respective positions on the matter. Further, they were quite happy when I informed them that Quentin Black and his wife arranged for your ‘followers’ to be displaced to some other location… and would not be coming back.”

Betial paused, glancing over to meet Faustus’ gaze.

“Of course, there’s still the matter of Quentin and his wife. There is some disagreement still, on how to deal with the chaos caused by their rather, well…unconventionalseer abilities. Miriam’s, in particular, causes some concern in the Archangel crowd. But they are not fond of Quentin’s tendency to turn into a flying creature that breathes fire, either. The drama of that, the attention it draws… they are not fans.”

Brick gave Faustus a flat look, that thin smile back on his full lips.

“They would like them to stop doing these things entirely. No more dragons. No more popping in and out of dimensions. No more dramatic sky battles over Hollywood. Archangel’s leaders had already planned to eliminate the two of them, you see. But I felt I owed Quentin and his lovely wife, so I managed to change their minds.”

Betial waved smoke out of his face with one hand.

“I have come to anewdeal with our rather bloodthirsty human friends. As long as I can persuade your niece and her husband to cooperate, they may yet come out of this alive. But you know howdifficultthat is likely to be for dear Quentin. He does so like tochafeunder even the most reasonable of requests. He also simplyloveshuman attention. Remaining low profile, not causing ascenewhenever he gets in front of human cameras… it might prove too much for him. Really, knowing Quentin as I do, I can give them only fifty-fifty odds that they don’t ignite Archangel’s paranoia and get themselves murdered in the first year.”

He smiled.

As he did, the bare edges of his fangs showed.

Faustus flinched, seeing the flash of white.

It felt like glimpsing a tiger’s stripes as it stalked you from the underbrush.

He wanted to tell himself he hadn’t seen it.

That it wasn’t real.

Betial went on in that bored voice.

“Of course, there is just onelasttask I would ask of them, prior to them agreeing to disappear themselves into the sunset. One that requires use of their rather unique gifts. Archangel agreed to accommodate my wishes once I explained the need of it. They really were quite surprisingly reasonable… given how fond they are ofmurder,you see.”

Brick smiled again, flashing another glimpse of razor-sharp fangs.

“Of course, I’ll need to pass on the terms of that agreement to Quentin and his lovely bride.” Brick winked, a more predatory glint rising to his clear eyes. “Hopefully they won’t be difficult about the part I’ve negotiated for them. As you know, Quentin seems to revel in being difficult. He seems to passing on that trait to his wife, as well.”

Betial let out another affected sigh.

Straightening his broad shoulders, he pulled thehirifrom where he’d balanced it on his lips, exhaling more of the sweet-smelling smoke.

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