Chapter 12

Every fool's got a reason to feel sorry for himself,
And turn his heart to stone,
Tonight this fool's halfway to heaven and just a mile outta hell,
And I feel like I'm comin' home.

Better Days Bruce Springsteen

Cambridge, Essex, December 5th

"Maman?" Christophe clung timidly to her skirt as she rested a hand against the wood of the door, still feeling the incredible heat emanating from the wood.

"No luck?" Caerys asked, ferrying another bowlful of water in from the bathroom sink.

"Non." Sophie shook her head, the small muscle at the corner of her jaw flexing as she ground her teeth in frustration. Caerys made to reach out and smooth the patch, gently, but wavered half-way through the gesture, and turned it onto running the hand through her sweaty hair instead.

"How come the room hasn't caught fire yet?" she asked, finally, but Sophie could only shrug. It was four hours since they'd realised the temperature in the room was rising, and within a few minutes they'd been forced back from where Gabriel writhed on the floor. Within the hour the carpet he lay on was charred and blackened, and the water they were throwing on him was evaporating before it made contact with his skin, doing nothing to cool him. Soon after that they'd been forced to abandon the room altogether.

"What?" Sophie turned to look at Caerys, whom she realised was staring at her.

"Just... you care. You hardly know him, you barely trust him, but you're fretting here because you can't help." She smiled, gently.

"It's more about me than him." Sophie admitted, with a shrug. "I... I don't like having to wait with nothing to do. It's the worst part about being a doctor."

"Helplessness." Caerys nodded. "I think it's probably the worst part about just being alive." They shared a look without needing to say the words — both of them understood what it was to be helpless after the past weeks events. Sophie realised she was staring, again, and quickly looked away.

"Do you think the heat will affect Camael's amulet?" Caerys smile broadened a little, but she didn't force the issue.

"I don't think so. I think if they could find us, they'd be kicking down the door by now."

"C'est vrai." She conceded.

"Maman!" Heeding the urgency is Christophe's tone, Sophie turned down to look at him, seeing his hair stood on end.

"Static..." Caerys began, and Sophie herded the pair of them away from the door hurriedly. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, the naked light bulb had begun to flicker, and moments later the house was pitched into darkness.

They stood in silence for a few moments, tensed, waiting for something else to happen. Sophie let out a relieved sigh when nothing seemed to follow, and Caerys broke the silence.

"I'm guessing it's not worth trying to work out where the fusebox is."

"Probably not." Sophie concurred. "Did you see any candles?"

"No, not that I... hang on." Caerys tensed a little, barely visible in the dim, reflected street-lighting coming through the back bedroom and into the hallway. Muttering something under her breath, she reached a hand out, and a small, blue glow appeared in her palm, lighting up her grin from beneath.

"What... is it getting easier?"

"The magic?" Caerys tossed the glow gently into the air where it circled Christophe's head, slowly. "Some of it. I think I'm finding where my talents lie, slowly." Behind them, from Gabriel's room, a faint sound — almost like a distant whistle — could barely be heard. They turned to face the door, but it was just one more unpredictable symptom of whatever he was going through.

"What are your talents, then?" Sophie asked, just for something to talk about, anything to keep their minds off what lay behind the closed door.

"My family have all been seers." She explained, casting another ball of light to follow the first, this time in a pale green. "Remote viewing, the Tarot cards... they came fairly easily. This is..." she reached a hand out and the two balls drifted back towards her, circling each other over her outstretched palm. "These are more difficult — they're from the early lessons on using magic as a weapon." She closed her hand, and the balls disappeared into her fist, leaking light out from between her fingers. "I'm not sure I want to read any more."

"Why not?" Sophie asked, feeling a pressure building in her ears as though she were flying. "Do you feel that?"

"Pressure squeal?" Caerys nodded. "Weather must be changing."

"I don't know, I think it's..." Sophie began, but then the full force of the noise dropped into their hearing register, a painfully loud, high-pitched scream of pain and anger. As the volume rose they mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.

Cambridge, Essex, December 6th

Sophie's eyes opened slowly, carefully, adjusting to the dawn light streaming in through the back-bedroom window. Surprisingly, the light seemed to dull the pounding headache she woke with, and she was able to lift herself to all fours without being as violently ill as she felt — although she wasn't entirely sure that wasn't down to the empty stomach.

Rocking back onto her knees, she looked down the empty stairs, and then up the hallway, spying Caerys propped up against the wall, breathing deeply and evenly, and Christophe curled up with his head on her lap. Turning a little further, she jumped a little at the flat grey eyes that stared back at her from the doorway of Gabriel's room until she realised he was there, watching.

"Morning." He managed, a quiet whisper in the still air.

"Good morning." She managed back, after swallowing a few times. "How... how are you?"

"Fine." The bitterness in his voice was obvious, and she stared at him a few moments trying to rationalise it. "You saved me? Or her?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, honestly. "Maybe us, but I don't think so. I think you came through it on your own... for a while we tried to keep you cool, but... I was trying to treat an illness, a fever, and that's not what you were going through."

"What was I going through?" He edged forward, and for a moment his eyes seemed to change, searching for something briefly before returning to the flat, cold, grey of storm-clouds.

"A transformation." Caerys' voice cut in, and they both turned to stare at her for a second as she reached her hands up and pushed her hair back out of her eyes. "The powers you stripped from your fathers' homunculi bound to you, changed you."

"So what am I now?" his voice took a hard edge, somewhere on the edge of panic, and Sophie shuffled across towards him, trying to lend some support. "What am I?" he demanded again, a little louder, turning the gaze on Sophie who halted in her tracks.

"We don't know." Caerys admitted, with a shrug, after a moment's thought. "If I had to guess, I'd say you were now a homunculus — you're real, but you've been imbued with a demon's powers."

"That's it? I'm some demon's power-bank, a few stray abilities tucked away for safe keeping?"

"Well... you could be a demon, now."

"WHAT?" Sophie's blurted comment brought her own hands up to her mouth, and Christophe stirred slightly, but Caerys stroked his head gently and he returned to sleep.

"I don't know what makes the Demons into demons. It might be just the powers, they might be born as demons, I don't know... so now you have the powers, you might be one of them."

"Better and better..." He turned away, slipping back into his room.

"Gabriel... can we get you anything?" Sophie called, as the door swung slowly closed.

"No, thank you." He called back, his flat and emotionless. "I'm going for a run."

"Aren't you hungry?" Caerys wondered, her own stomach growling loudly as Christophe lifted his head from her lap and rubbed his eyes clear of grit.

"A little." Gabriel returned to the door, frowning. "No clothes left." Curious, Caerys eased past him to survey the damage. At first she thought it had all been reduced to ash, small piles of dust laid here and there. Kneeling down, though, she realised the wood of the bed was still the pale cream of the pine, the dresser had reduced to the point where not even the hinges or handles remained intact.

"What did this?" she asked, half of herself. "They didn't burn."

"These did." Gabriel sifted through the half-charred remnants of a few shirts and trousers.

"I'll go shopping this afternoon." she promised, with a half-smile that he didn't return. "This is bothering you, isn't it?"

"It doesn't bother you?"

"I was a Seer's daughter with a demon, I grew up around things like this..."

"I didn't... or..."

"You did, and now you're upset with yourself for not noticing?" She shrugged a little, not turning to face him. "They've spent a long time hiding who and what they are."

"I lived there."

"Is that really what's worrying you most?" Sophie asked, from the doorway, clutching her blouse between her fingers with her nervousness.

"No, it's just behind having two women in my room when I'm half-naked." he snapped back, and she shied away, but Caerys turned a level stare at him.

"Half-naked? Not even close. Maybe a third, tops."

"How can you be so calm?" Sophie demanded, eyeing Gabriel warily as he paced back and forth across the room.

"What else am I supposed to do?" He stopped, staring out the window rather than see the fear in her eyes.

"Not you, her." Sophie clarified, pointing at Caerys.

"I remember Absolom." she replied, standing up, dusting off the knees of her trousers. "He walked away from it all, took his powers with him and left. He chose not to fight, not to use people or hurt people. The powers are just that — powers. They can't change who you are, only what you are." She turned to stare at Gabriel, walking round until she moved into his field of vision. "You choose who you are, how you see the world. The powers just give you more options on what you want to do about it."

Hillhead, Glasgow, December 6th

Shrugging the bag off his shoulder to the floor, Gabriel took stock of the condition of the building before turning to close the door, reasonably confident that no-one had disturbed it since he'd left.

"Another safe-house?" Sophie asked, easing Christophe's weight on her hip and looking around the dingy, poorly-lit hallway.

"Right in the middle of the student residences." he confirmed. "No-one that'll pay that much attention, plenty of foreigners around so you shouldn't stand out much, lot's of incidental noise and traffic to keep us hidden." Caerys followed in with the last of the bags and looked around, pushing the nearest door open to reveal a stairwell leading down.

"And, of course, the requisite basement with armoury, gym and over-powered computer."

"You can see that?" Sophie half-whispered, and Caerys nodded with a shrug. "Some of it. Not the armoury, because it's dark, that's just a guess." She put her bag with the others, and pointed Sophie in the direction of another door which opened to reveal a sitting room where she could lay Christophe down.

"So, I can understand why you'd bring us here," she turned to Gabriel, "but why have a safe-house here in the first place?"

"It's convenient." He shrugged. "The students mean there's a fairly constant flow of newcomers, so it's not obvious when I'm away for a while. There are a few airports within easy reach; Glasgow for Boston or Philadelphia, Edinburgh for Munich, Oslo, Zurich, Milan, or into Toronto. Manchester has flights going into the Middle-East, Africa and South America or I can head down to Liverpool — Middle-East and Eastern Europe, and there's the passenger seaport there as well." Sophie and Caerys were both staring at him when he finished. "What?"

"I don't know." Sophie shrugged. "I guess I was just hoping the answer was going to be 'I liked the culture' or 'I used to go to school here, it reminds me of childhood.'" She hugged herself, gently. "Caerys said that the power doesn't change you, right, and I think she's right, but it scares me a little to think what you might do with it."

"Soph..." Caerys started to restrain her, but Sophie pulled out of her grasp and continued.

"I know you wouldn't hurt us, I believe that, but you... there's something not right about the way you think, Gabriel. Everything about you is against something — you fight against your father, Caerys' father, against criminals and thugs and smugglers. You don't fight for anything... that worries me."

"You could leave." he pointed out, realising even as he said it that it was churlish. "I am who I am. I'm not going to weep for a nice young man that might otherwise have been, and I'm not going to stand around and feel sorry for myself."

"So what was this morning?" Caerys cut in.

"A lapse." he explained. "A brief lapse. I've got these... abilities... First thing is to learn how to use them, and then I have to decide how and where to apply them."

"What of us?" Sophie asked, turning back to look at Christophe as he rolled over on the worn sofa. "What happens to us when you go back on your crusade?"

"Once Marduk and Caerys' father are out of the way, you can go home, or..."

"What home?" Sophie interrupted. "You're talking about killing Caerys' father. Her mother's already dead."

"She's nineteen, she can make her own way in life."

"So you're just going to abandon us?"

"What do you want to do? It's not my life to decide for you."

"TAKE SOME RESPONSIBILITY!" Sophie's yell woke Christophe with a start, and she turned away from the conversation abruptly to see to him.

"You aren't my responsibility." Gabriel tried to continue at her retreating back, but Caerys stepped between them, not letting him follow.

"Later, Gabriel... let her calm down a little. She's frightened."

"Of me?"

"Of the powers you have, rather than you, I think. She knows you wouldn't deliberately hurt us. But she's just generally afraid... you have... You could fight before, and now you can do more. I have my own talents, which are growing. She feels out of her depth."

"I'm trying to fix that."

"She's dependant on you — on us — but she knows we don't really owe her anything. She wants to be a responsibility, because it means she won't just be abandoned again — like her husband abandoned her, and like her parents abandoned her by making her choose medicine over music."

"To hear her say it she chose that herself."

"Maybe, but she feels pressured into it. They put their wishes above hers, and parents aren't supposed to do that. Then her husband — even if it was more complicated than just abandonment... Now her hopes lie on us, and she's afraid it will happen again."

"It won't."

"She doesn't know that. She thinks your obligations will end as soon as this fight is over and you move onto the next one."

"Right. As soon as she's safe..."

"What's she supposed to do, Gabriel? Go back to being a Doctor, forget what she's seen and heard."

"I can't help how she's going to deal with it."

"You can. You just won't. You won't make the connections with people that you should... that's what she doesn't understand, and she fears what she doesn't understand."

"Do you understand it?"

"No, but I lost my fear of the unknown a long time ago."

Hillhead, Glasgow, December 6th

"Where is he?" Sophie sat up, quickly, slipping her legs over the edge of the bed as Caerys eased the door open.

"Downstairs, in his gym."

"You can come in." Sophie softened her expression, relaxing a little as she settled back onto the bed.

"He really has you spooked, doesn't he?" That provoked only a shrug in response. "He wouldn't hurt us."

"Are you so sure?" Sophie turned the television off, folding her hands in her lap. "He's angry, frustrated..."

"He's scared," Caerys corrected, moving away from where she was leant on the door. "He's having to come to terms with these changes that he didn't predict. He's changed, is changing, the world's changing, his personal life is changing."

"What personal life?" Sophie scoffed.

"Us." Caerys crouched down in front of her, taking her hands gently. "The longest he's spent in anyone's company since Giselle died has been as long as it took the plane to land. He's been around us for a week now — we know his name, we can see him, not just the act he puts on when he's working. He's still working his way through that."

"It's not hard."

"It is for him. We're something else he can't control, and he's not used to that."

"You really think that's all it is?" Sophie whispered. "You don't think these powers have changed him?"

"No, no I don't." Caerys rose to her feet, and sat down gently on the bed beside her. "I promise you, I'd still put my life in his hands."

"So would I, but we don't have a choice."

"There are always choices." Caerys pointed out. "Live or die might not be a good one, but it's a choice."

"That isn't very reassuring."

"I'm a realist. Life hasn't given me many things to be reassured about." she admitted with a shrug.

"So, what did you come for?" Sophie asked, as the silence drew out, and immediately regretted the hard tone. "I mean... did you want something, or just to get away from him?"

"I thought about what you said earlier... about wanting him to take a responsibility. I spoke to him about it, about what might happen when all this is over, if we make it."

"If we make it?"

"Realist, remember." Caerys managed a weak smile. "Life's going to be different. I'm going to be really, truly free, and you're going to... you're not going to be able to just forget about all this."

"You think I don't know this already?"

"No, but I think... I think you should talk to him. Get to him, let him get to know you properly. He's lonely, and the more we're around him the more he'll realise it."

"I don't see your point."

"I don't want to finish with this, finally be free, and not have anyone to talk to, Sophie. Neither do you, I don't think... we need him to be our friend."

Sophie contemplated that for a moment, pulling the pillow she'd been unconsciously clutching into her stomach and hugging it tightly.

"Is he the sort of person we'd want as a friend, after all this?" she finally managed.

"He's the only sort we've got." Caerys pointed out. "Who else would believe any of this?" Sophie nodded, a little reluctantly, and got to her feet. Walking around the bed to slip her feet into her shoes, Caerys watched her with a sad feeling.

And what you really need in your life is a man... she silently added, with a sad, wistful smile that was gone by the time Sophie turned back to face her.

Hillhead, Glasgow, December 7th

Untying the straps that held the heavy kick-bag in place, Gabriel swung it out into the centre of the room, hugging it close to his chest to prevent it swinging, and then stepped back into place.

"Caerys?" He didn't turn, just asked the question aloud, but when she didn't respond he looked towards the door. "Sophie?" He seemed surprised, and she shrugged a little. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Nothing particular," she offered, moving into the breezeblock walled, subterranean room hugging herself gently, looking about at the dim lighting and the collection of mock targets and aiming points.

"Why are you here?"

"Can't we just come to visit?" Caerys followed Sophie into the room obviously forcing the buoyant mood.

"You can; you do." He admitted, before turning back to Sophie. "She doesn't. She doesn't feel comfortable here amongst the reminders of the violence."

"I need to learn how to shoot," Sophie pointed out, defensively, grabbing for the first excuse that came to mind.

"You don't like guns."

"I still have to shoot that stun-gun, don't I?"

"Point. Click. Zap," he explained. "It's a gun, it's not rocket science."

"Then why do you spend so much time down here?" Caerys asked, perching cross-legged on the top of a short pile of gymnastic mats in the corner.

"I don't just use a stun-gun," he pointed out. "I use weapons that strike beyond about fifteen feet, weapons with recoil, weapons with multiple shots. Anyone can point and shoot a gun, but no-one with a stun-gun can do anything more than that. With a decent pistol you have to select not just your target, but the sequence you're going to hit the targets in when you have multiple assailants

With a pistol and a sword you have to divide the battle-field up into targets you can reach and targets you can't. Then you have to consider which of the targets you can reach will serve as shields from the ones you can't until you've taken them down. Whilst you're doing that, the mechanics of pointing and shooting or swinging the blade have to become automatic.

I practice to condition the simple conscious action to become an automatic one, so that I don't have to think about what I'm doing now, but about what I'm going to do next."

Despite herself, Caerys listened intently, drinking in the ideas and trying to understand the mentality behind them, trying to see a way into the man's head. Shuddering slightly, a combination of the cold air and the oppressive conversation, Sophie wandered the periphery of the room.

"What are all these?" She pointed to the rows of weapons in cases on the wall, each with a small, dated card propped up against the exhibit.

"Trophies, I suppose." Gabriel admitted, with a shrug. "I was taking them when I finished jobs, reminders of what I'd done, mementoes, until I realised it was a vanity that might get me caught."

"You've stopped, then?" she turned to face him. "Why don't you get rid of them?"

"They're still useful tools." He frowned slightly, uncertain of himself without anything that seemed like a good answer. "It'd be difficult to get rid of some of them, anyway. That one you're looking at now, that's the same sort of shotgun some of the American police forces use, it's not available for sale in this country, so I can't easily sell it. If I ditch it, there's no telling who might get their hands on it."

"So you'll use it, someday?"

"Me?" He stared at it for a moment, and shook his head. "I doubt it. It has its place, but I tend to work alone, which requires a little more subtlety. It's a good close quarters weapon if you've got support, but it takes too long to cock the thing, let alone to reload it."