Fall Ch. 00-03

"Hell no. I'm not going to lie, I'm always a little happier to do jobs that involve dispelling angels. But demons, while charming and useful, will fuck you up."

"Have you ever dispelled one and then had it come to help you later?"

"Demons will do that, yes. You pretty much know it's going to cost dearly when they do." Verena rubbed her face.

"And you're stuck with whatever they ask you to do? If they want a grimoire out of your library or if they want you to murder someone?" He was studying her face.

"You can decline and they can choose another task. They're not really happy with that so if you can stomach the job it's advised you do it. It's poor form to ask one of us to do something against our own, though. You wouldn't ask a demon to help dispel a demon, you don't ask a dispeller to do something that affects other dispellers."

"Have you ever declined a task and had them pick another?"

"Nope. I don't have any trouble calling for help either. There are a couple of them who are always very happy to come lend a hand. Watching me get pissed off at angels is an endless source of amusement, I'm told."

He let that soak in for a moment before asking, "What kind of crap jobs do you get stuck with?"

"This for starters." She looked at him pointedly. "And jobs that someone started and ran away from. That happens now and then. There are a few who will duck out instead of standing and fighting. It makes the job harder since they have forewarning and at this point they almost know it's going to be me that turns up. They'll attack immediately without even trying to eyeball, discuss, or intimidate."

"What do you do when that happens?"

"My job."

°°°°°°°°°°

One

The dispeller had been remarkably open. That was what had been promised but to have it delivered... Janine had proven herself a useful contact. Ezenach rewound the video and watched the woman's body language as she spoke. She'd been uncomfortable, and her dislike of the interviewer hadn't faded noticeably during their discussion. Nevertheless, he'd gotten more than he realized.

Hiring Jett Daugherty to write his slightly snide piece for Vitality Focus Magazine had been a stroke of genius. He'd turned in the interview materials as he'd been asked and even chatted about his impressions of Ms. Alvar. Jett didn't seem to think she completely believed in what she was saying. Anyone who truly believed angels and demons were roaming the world would be a great deal more afraid was his reasoning. The thought that anyone who could dispel angels and demons and call them to her aid might not need to fear anything a less skilled person would fear never occurred to him.

But the hard-fought draw that Ghedorniel had spent thousands of years working toward was now tipping in the favor of the Overarch and the dispellers were the cause. They'd been so careful to keep themselves neutral, but there were always one or two that could be counted on for favors or information. That the newly fallen had found one amenable to the same arrangement was unfortunate. That it was Ms. Alvar was more unfortunate. She was a pleasure to work with.

"What's the verdict?" Samatiel asked with a smile settling onto the comfortable sofa, the form the demon had chosen was an elegant female with sharp, symmetrical features. Her business attire was nothing that could be found in a store, the lines of the demonic design made other women envious with only a glance.

"She's useful. And skilled. I made inquiries earlier, Savmon speaks of her almost fondly. He says she's the one who so enthusiastically rousted Ezeviel."

"No!" She laughed, "I enjoyed hearing about that one. Truthfully, I expected her to be dead by now."

"The newly fallen have been keeping her safe it seems. If Ezeviel has allowed it, it may mean the Overarch has seen their usefulness to him." Ezenach frowned. "Bringing her to our side may not be feasible but we need to learn what she knows about the newly fallen first, if they're going to be using our methods."

"How much do you think she knows?"

"A great deal. She speaks to them and not just to ask favors. It seems Ms. Alvar asked them what they wished to be called and spoke of their hopes. It will take some skill to get it out of her, but she hasn't met Caimrael yet..."

"Ooh, he'll eat her alive." Samatiel withdrew a slim phone from a pocket that shouldn't have been able to accommodate it. "I'll let him know he's going to be having some fun."

Ezenach shook his head with a smile. Ms. Alvar knew that demons were skilled in giving people what they wanted, Caimrael was one of the best. He didn't concern himself with anyone who wasn't a major game piece, this would be a rare exception.

"Caim, my love, I have a job offer for you," the demoness purred into the phone. "No, you're needed to seduce information from a dispeller." Her eyes narrowed and her lovely face hardened as she listened to a reply that was clearly less than polite. Ezenach watched with amusement.

"If it were something any other demon could do they would be doing it. This is delicate and this dispeller..." Samatiel let her lip curl in a snarl that would have made a mortal tremble and handed the phone to Ezenach. "You would think he has better things to do."

Taking the phone, Ezenach gave her a frosty smile, "Not for long. Caimrael?"

"If she isn't a game piece-" The bored voice on the other end of the phone began.

"She's upsetting the board, and not in our favor." Ezenach kept his tone cold and with the faintest hint that this conversation was beneath him. "This dispeller is the best they have. You'll be sent the information on the target, and your objective. This is not a job you may decline, she's met too many of the others."

"I see. Who is she? I'll make inquiries while I'm waiting for the rest of the information to arrive."

"Verena Alvar is the name she gives. You may wish to start with Savmon."

"Not the girl who spat snake's blood on Ezeviel while so gleefully dispelling him?"

"The same."

"I wouldn't have expected her to favor their side."

"No one did. You'll understand more when you've seen all of the information. I do advise you to play this one carefully. She's being watched over by the newly fallen."

"Mm, it's been some time since I had a proper challenge. Thank you for the call."

Ezenach handed the phone back to Samatiel. "He's always responded better to those who genuinely dislike him."

°°°°°°°°°°

Two

"I still don't understand, Numphreon," Verena settled into one of the ragged chairs the church had used to furnish their basement shelter.

"I appreciate that you've done as I asked despite that." The fallen had chosen the form of a weathered homeless woman. Her mostly grey hair was braided tightly close to her head. "You've been a wealth of information for us and it was decided we should return the favor. You'll be visited by a stranger. You should prepare what you need for a grimoire."

Verena rubbed her face and curled her legs, putting her feet in the chair with a sigh. "You know everyone who writes one of those dies horribly, right?"

"Get your feet off of the furniture." Numphreon chided less than gently, she hated repeating herself, something Verena was well aware of.

"Every time you say that I want to call you 'mom'." Verena gave the older woman a cheeky smile as she put her feet back on the floor.

"If I were your mother, child of breath, you would know better than to put your feet on the furniture." The flare of light in the fallen's ametrine eyes was affection, but it didn't soften her tone.

"Yes ma'am." Verena sat up straighter in the chair and tried to look contrite, she'd never been good at it but the effort always seemed to be appreciated.

Numphreon held out her arm with a small smile, extending one of her silvery wings as well. Verena leapt at the chance. Being folded under a wing brought a feeling of warmth and protection that had made her sob with joy the first time she'd felt it. The wing closed over her and all of her fears and stresses seemed to be pressed out of her, leaving with the long slow exhale of breath as she snuggled close to the fallen.

"What was it you said to Lethuel?" The fallen stroked her head, "'The more you know the better you can do your job.' This is a difficult task and it has fallen to you. What will you do, child of breath?"

"I'll do my job. I'll get the things I need and keep an eye out." Verena paused for a moment feeling that the embrace was close to ending and added, "I'll also try to keep my feet off of the furniture."

Numphreon snorted and squeezed her before removing the silvery wing from around her. "If you succeed I'll have Vaemius record it in her book of miracles."

"An incentive! Nice!" Verena grinned impishly, stepping back as the woman's arm loosened as well. "I didn't think you were allowed to give those."

"There is no creature as trying as a child of breath." Numphreon gave her a stern frown but her ametrine eyes were lit from within.

"Yeah, demons lack the right sense of humor to be truly trying." Verena felt a rush of glee as Numphreon cracked a smile despite herself.

"Don't you have a task?"

"I do, now that you mention it. Take care of yourself, Numphry. I love you." Stepping closer again Verena gave the fallen a kiss on the cheek.

"You are loved, child of breath. Purpose guide you." Numphreon beamed at her.

"And you." Verena inclined her head respectfully before leaving.

Outside the evening air was crisp and her corduroy jacket was missing a couple of buttons so she couldn't close it as much as she'd like to. The walk would warm her up. Bile should be at the library this time of night so it ought to be fairly empty. The old man was nasty to everyone but he'd seen how often she came to read and study, for him that was a sign of good character. It didn't hurt that she corrected anyone she heard mispronouncing his name.

The roughly twenty block walk to get to the right library didn't keep her as warm as she'd hoped, the nights were getting colder. It was probably time to get out the change jar and see if she had enough for a decent Goodwill coat. Heading down to the below-ground entrance, she unballed her hands and let her fingers stick back out of her jacket sleeves.

Security was like something out of a spy novel. Biometrics. Fingerprints, eye scan, and voice recognition of a specific phrase. She'd know it when the light came up. Every dispeller had different phrases to recite with different colors, they'd been made to come up with them on their own and they were required to come regularly to the security office to have them changed. It was a handy way of keeping track of them all as well. If you didn't show for your appointment someone would come looking for your body.

The blue light came on as she looked into the hole with her hand on the pad. "You're a bag of dicks." The door buzzed open for her. Making her way through the gauntlet of misted holy water and various little tricks to be sure nothing unwelcome stuck to her and made its way in, Verena finally got to the library proper and entered the protected confines with a sigh of relief.

"Look Bile, all I'm saying is you can change your name and solve a lot of your problems." Jack the jerk was here yammering away.

Bile was stuck at the counter watching over the book Jack had requested to see. The look on his face said clearly that Jack wasn't worth killing but he was starting to consider it anyway.

"First off," Verena offered nonchalantly as she approached the counter, "It's Bee-leh and a person's name is something valuable. Not everyone has a throwaway name like yours, Jack."

Jack turned his head to give her a nasty look and smug smirk. "And secondly?"

"Secondly, if you're here to chat you're in the wrong place. Go annoy a barista. Some of us have work to do."

"I know for a fact you don't have a job right now." Jack started to turn his back on her.

"And yet I have work to do, and so does Bile."

"Is that a fact?" Jack reached out to touch the book in front of him and Bile pulled it back, closing it carefully.

"It is. You've had an hour to study and you've wasted it trying to get a rise out of me. This book is not to be touched, you know that. You're done." Bile turned his back carefully putting the tome back into its protective casing.

Cursing under his breath, Jack stalked off to another corner of the library, clearing the way for Verena to come up to the counter.

"Bile? I need to talk to you about something important."

"You want to chat, find a barista." The old man snorted at her not bothering to turn around.

"I don't think a barista can help me write a grimoire."

The old man stiffened and turned slowly, his face set in grim perplexity. "Say again?"

"I've been given a warning. I'm going to be approached by a stranger and I'm going to have the opportunity to write a grimoire. I've read enough of them, I know the information I need to get, what I don't know is how to get it written down without getting caught immediately."

"Slips of paper. Nothing can be put down in its entirety, no incantation, no diagram, not even a whole coherent sentence. Most of the writers devised a system of their own to help the librarians make sense of the mess of scraps after their deaths." He gave her a hard look. "How clear was this warning and how sure are you?"

"As clear as it gets and as certain as I can be about anything. You're the one I trust to know how things should go." She took a deep breath, the reminder that this was going to end with a horrible death brought back the tension the fallen's embrace had cleared away. "And nobody ever survived? Nobody at all?"

The look he gave her was almost pitying.

"Right." Verena rubbed the back of her neck and took another deep breath. "Well, nobody lives forever, I guess." Putting her elbows on the counter she looked up at him, "What do I need?"

"You could just walk away from it. A demon might approach you but, as a dispeller, it won't linger unless you engage it." Bile studied her face.

"If it's a stranger to me you don't have a book on them, Bile. How can I walk away from that?" Shaking her head, she swallowed her nervousness and exhaled the fear. This was a job. Fear has no place while you're working. Uncle had said that often enough. "It may not be a paid job, but it's still a job. It needs to be done. What do I need?"

"Come with me." Bile gestured for her to come around the counter. In the office, he lifted the handset of an ancient rotary phone off of its cradle and began to dial. "You're needed on the desk." He replaced it and waited impatiently.

A giddy looking young man came racing to the office a few moments later. His brown hair was disheveled and he looked like the definition of an eager beaver with his bright eyes and slightly buck teeth. "Master Bile?"

"All rules must be followed. Nothing in the cases leaves the countertop and they are not to be touched by any readers. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir!"

Piping up, she added, "Beware of Jack. He'll try to push your buttons until you walk away or get so distracted he can touch the book or even pick it up. Don't turn your back on him for a minute."

"You shouldn't turn your back on any of the dispellers." Bile added bitterly.

"True. I did once get the Nallezus grimoire out of the library, and I'm one of the more respectful patrons you have." Verena gave Bile an apologetic shrug and a wry smile. When she glanced at the horrified and furious look on the boy's face she held up her hands, "I brought it back!"

"Treat them all like thieves and vandals, Vincent." Bile pointed and the boy walked out to the counter looking less eager and more vigilant.

"I'd heard rumors that someone had allowed it out of the library." Bile led her down a long narrow passage.

"Allowed isn't the right word. I picked a busy time of day and when the librarians stepped away to help someone I slipped behind the desk and borrowed it." Verena stopped walking as Bile turned around and glared at her. "They wouldn't let me look at it otherwise. I think I was fourteen at the time and trying to learn everything I possibly could. The rules made no sense to me."

"You read the Nallezus grimoire at fourteen? But the rules made no sense to you?" His glare didn't let up.

"They made a lot more sense when I met Nallezus in the public library where I took the book." The sick look on Bile's face made her try to reassure him, "The writer pegged him, he's curious and charming, but they didn't mention that he'll let you walk, or in my case get the book back safely, if you can make him laugh."

The old man clutched his head as if he had a splitting headache. "Who was on the desk?"

"Riley and Finn both. When I came back Finn was hunting through the stacks and Riley was pale as a sheet still trying to help people. Neither one noticed when I laid it on the counter and went to find something on methodology instead."

"I should have you barred from the library." He turned and continued down the hall.

"I'm about to die horribly, but I suppose you could always send whoever does it a thank you card, or a gift basket." Verena could imagine it, Bile having the summoning symbol tested and a thank you card delivered.

"Dispellers. How many people have you told that story to?" He sounded sour.

"Very few. One of them was a reporter, though." She held up her hands placatingly as he spun again. "Janine tasked me with giving an interview to some ridiculous magazine, it was the story about the first time I met a demon. I was ordered to be open and charming. I did my best." That order hadn't come from Janine but he didn't need to know that.

A voice came from a small room she hadn't noticed was there. "From what I'm told you always do. Gifted. Skilled. Eager to learn." The woman's voice out of the dark was eerie. "And now you're going to give us a grimoire? This should be a book to rival the most thorough."

"Mistress Chim. I intended to show her the trays." Bile bowed stiffly to the empty doorway.

"Show her mine."

"Yes, Mistress Chim."

Taking note of Bile's tremendous deference to the voice, Verena inclined her head respectfully, "I'll try not to disappoint."

"Purpose guides you. Tell me the name of the one who warned you."

"Numphreon. She looks out for me when she can."

"A grey angel. They're more dangerous than you know."

"They prefer to be called the newly fallen, calling them grey angels upsets them."

"Perhaps... perhaps you should write a book on them?" The voice sounded speculative.

"Ha. No one ever wants to listen when I try to tell them anything about the newly fallen, why would they care if I wrote it down?"

"Because some refuse to listen does not mean they all will. Use the material to practice for your grimoire."

It seemed a reasonable request. "Yes ma'am, I'll do that." She inclined her head again and Bile gestured for her to precede him down the hall.

Coming to the end of the hall there was a door on the left and Bile opened it ushering her in. It looked like museum basement storage. She knew because she once had to go into one to keep her end of a deal. If the demon hadn't told her the tray number, and given her a sketch of the artifact to help her take the right one from the selection they had, it would have taken years for her to find it.

A tray was pulled open and lifted out carefully. It was placed on a viewing table and she was handed a pair of gloves. The scraps of paper looked torn and mangled, many were so brown they couldn't be read.

"Blood. Mistress Chim's. She was gathering information on a demon named Savmon. The grimoire on him has been filled out little by little over the years but she began it."