Milo ...Associate

        By Pattie Lawler

 

            Milo’s hand came down on something warm, smooth and incredibly soft. In his half dozing state, he smiled and rolled toward Albany. She shifted, snuggling him back.

            His eyes flew open.

            It was Albany, wrapped in a pale blue, silk nightgown and most of the covers. Milo’s brain raced for a second before he mentally shrugged and drew her closer.

            “Who knew that dying and going to heaven would happen in a grotty inn?”

            Without opening her eyes, she smiled, kissing the arm that encircled her. “I knew, which is why I hurried over. It’s a shame the call didn’t come twenty minutes earlier, or I could have been with you the whole time.”

            “What call?”

            “The one where they told me there was a water main break. A big one. The theater’s closed for two weeks.”

            “Ah! My brilliant plan of sabotage has paid off.” He laughed, delighted with this turn of fate. “For a second, I thought I was dreaming.”

            “I kinda felt that way when I got the call. There was a major disconnect between hanging up and standing in the lobby with a full suitcase. I might have packed the contents of the kitchen for all I know. Jason must have thought I had lost it.”

            “He’s with you?”

            “Of course. He hasn’t left my side, except when I’m in the penthouse. Which, by the way, isn’t much fun without you and Fanny.”

            “If you marry me, I promise that it’ll be fun all the time.”

            She smiled and pressed against him. “Go back to sleep. Simon said he wanted you to sleep late, and heaven knows I need to sleep too.”

            “Are you going to share the blankets?”

            “Only if you make it worth my while.”

 <0>        

              As they rode in the limo, Fanny painted a very vivid picture of the farm and the role she envisioned Albany playing as its mistress.

            A fond smile on his face, Milo said nothing during the dissertation. His arm around Albany’s waist would gently nudge her from time to time. It took only a second poke for Albany to understand that he was correcting Fanny’s hyperbole without saying anything aloud. Fanny’s excitement filled the car, and neither wanted to spoil the moment.

            Turning off the road, Milo sat forward enough to silence his niece. “Fanny, would you please show Albany around while I meet with ...?” He looked at Albany, his gaze asking her indulgence. “I’ll be as quick as possible.”

            She smiled. “I’m sure Fanny and I will be fine without you. Take your time, and we’ll meet up when we can.” She understood he would have rather shown her the house himself, but duty called.

            Their several plans were put on hold by the sight of a silver car blocking the portico. At the same moment, Fanny reached for the door and cried, “It’s a Bugatti!” as Milo snapped, “Betty,” like a curse.

Looking between the two of them did nothing to dispel Albany’s confusion. She opted to follow Fanny as the limo glided to a halt, and Fanny leapt out, her eye still on the car.

            Milo caught Albany’s hand, gently restraining her. “No one knows how a Demon Eater is created. You either are one, or you’re not.”

            Albany frowned at him, waiting.

            “I haven’t had a chance to tell you even an eighth of my life, and while this is hardly how I would want to share, you need to know that I’m a Demon Eater…that is, I can see and subdue demons.”

            Her jaw dropped as her color faded.

            Milo’s eyes closed as he nodded. “The bandage on my arm is from a demon I fought and released last night. That woman,” he nodded toward the sports car, “is another Demon Eater.”

            “And another ex?”

            “No! I mean, no.” He paused as if thrown off by her thinly veiled accusation and drew in a deep breath before continuing. “Sorry. I’m shouting, and I haven’t even seen her.” He shook his head, his annoyance evident. “Somehow, I always end up yelling when she’s around. But you have to believe me, she’s not the kind of woman that me, or any man would want. And she’s going to grill me about last night.”

            Albany considered for a second. “So...she’s like a senor Demon Eater?”

“No. If anything, I’ve been active for longer. Ridiculously dedicated would be a kind way to describe her. She’s a fanatic who’s a danger to herself and everyone around her.”

“I’ll keep Fanny with me.”

“And Jason.”

She nodded but sensed something more was needed so whispered, “I will support you, Milo, no matter what.”

            He sagged and drew her hand to his lips for a grateful kiss. “Thank you for trusting me. I promise to never abuse your gift.”

            Albany managed a weak smile before slipping out to find Fanny practically drooling as she circled the strange car. To Albany, the squat roadster appeared to be made of polished stainless steel. It oozed money and speed. Fanny came to stand beside the driver’s door and tore her eyes away from their feast to silently beg her uncle.

“Not until you’re eighteen,” he said without looking at her.

Albany suppressed a smile. In a huff, Fanny’s affronted gaze dropped to the raised B logo on the car’s rear. Her expression made Albany think she was contemplating prying it off.

“Welcome to Fairbanks,” Milo said, sweeping his arm out to encompass the house beyond the portico.

Albany looked up at the grey stone manor house and smiled. “It’s magnificent.”

As if in response to this praise, the house doors were thrown open, and a double row of people filed out, lead by Joe and a stern-looking woman.

“I’m sorry, milord,” the woman began right away. “If we had known your fiancée was coming beforehand—”

Milo held up a hand. “Mrs. Sylver, I didn’t know myself, or I would have warned you. But here is Albany Wendel.” He took Albany’s hand and drew her forward. “Mrs. Sylver manages the house and staff at Fairbanks.”

Smiling up at the older woman, Albany extended her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Sylver.”

“Myself and the staff are just as pleased to meet you, Miss, as it’s past time for—”

“Yes, yes,” Milo cut in to spare himself a lecture, winking at Mrs. Sylver before turning to Albany. “Would you like to meet the staff now or as you go?”

Albany turned her smile on the many pairs of eyes that regarded her. “If you’ll forgive my repeated requests for names, I’d like to be introduced now.”

Milo kissed the back of her hand before releasing her. “I’m going in to see Betty.” He leaned to her ear. “Get this over with as quickly as possible.” He kissed her head and left her in the care of his housekeeper.

Fanny threw herself into the hail of kisses and welcoming arms of Mrs. Sylver. Joe took charge of Albany and began introducing her to the staff as the front doors were opened by a tall, long-haired man in a dark suit.

Milo stopped on the stairs, and Joe paused as everyone turned to look at the interloper.

“Betty,” Milo said without any greeting. “Perhaps you’d care to join me on the veranda?”

“I’ve come,” said the man in a feminine voice and Albany realized her error, “to meet your fiancée, Scarlet.” Pulling a pair of sunglasses off, Betty’s pale blue eyes swept those gathered before returning to Milo. “Where is she?”

Milo resumed his ascent, his arm out to the right. “Please, come this way.”

But Betty didn’t move, and her gaze alighted on Albany. She frowned. “You’re marrying a boy?”

Albany felt the ranks of staff close as she stepped forward. “How funny you should think that,” she said, moving to join Milo, “because I thought you were a man, too, but I’m sure you get that a lot.”

“Albany,” Milo interjected, “this is Betty Lewis, an associate. Betty, my fiancée, Albany Wendel.”

As Betty gave Albany the once over, Albany did the reverse and made no attempt to hide the fact.

Perhaps five years her senior, Betty was tall, lean and fair. Half her ivory-colored hair hung down her front, obscuring her chest, while the rest was gathered in a pony tail down her back. She wore a black, men’s suit, and had she pulled out a cigarillo and lit it, Albany wouldn’t have been surprised.

“You’re too young for Scarlet.”

“And you’re old enough to think so. Happily, your opinion doesn’t matter to anyone present.”

Betty snorted. “Go inside, little boy. There’s men’s work to be done, and you’d only be in the way.” She brushed past Milo and made for her car.

Milo nodded to Joe, who quickly shepherded the staff into the manor. He leaned to Albany’s ear. “She up to something. Go with Joe, and keep both eyes on Fanny.”

With a nod, Albany reached for Fanny’s hand, and together they trotted up the stairs and into the house. Milo turned back as Betty removed a leather scabbard and a flesh-colored ball from behind the driver’s seat.

“I saw you last night,” she said, closing the door. “With Maricourt.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Milo saw Simon at the trunk of the limo. It was all the assurance he needed. “And?”

“And I saw you let him and that kid go!” Betty pitched the ball onto the distant curve of the circular driveway. When it came to a rest in the gravel, she unclipped the scabbard from her Angel’s Finger and withdrew the glowing blade.

Milo’s gaze flicked to the ball and back. “What have you done?”

Her eyes on the sword, Betty smiled without looking at him. “I’ve learned a new trick.” She dropped the scabbard onto the car seat and strode out onto the lawn.

As she went, Milo felt Simon at his side.

“Here’s all the cayenne I have.” He slipped a bag into Milo’s jacket pocket. “I sent Lawrence in for more, and for backup.” In his free hand was Milo’s Angel’s Finger, which Milo took and unsnapped without drawing. “Do you know what that thing is?” Simon nodded toward the ball Betty was addressing.

“I’m afraid it’s a Beggars’ Prison.”

“You think she’s got Maricourt in that?” Simon sounded appalled.

Milo nodded. “I’m still a little off from last night, so don’t go far.”

They both knew it was pointless to tell Betty to simply leave, and if she did have Maricourt prisoner, Milo wasn’t about to let him remain in her clutches. He had let the adult demon go with a wound and his life. Betty was never so generous.

As prepared as he could be without leaving Betty alone, Milo moved clear of the house and watched as she concluded her muttered spell. In her hand, her sword blazed white. She jerked up, her arm lancing out and the sword stabbing toward the distant ball. An arc of light flew from the blade and engulfed the ball, which quivered, thrashed, and began to unfold.

Milo guessed that Maricourt, dazed as he was, must have been easy prey for Betty. A typical demon prison would magically ‘freeze’ a demon in a repeating moment of time, rendering them both harmless and easily sent home. To transport one would require a spell which suspended the demon between worlds. The spell had been dubbed a Beggar’s Prison because it left the demon in such a state of rage coupled with disorientation that they begged to be spared. Milo had discontinued their use more than a decade ago.

“It’s my new Beggar’s Prison. Judas taught it to me.”

Judas Iscariot, Betty’s sword.

Rare and sought after, every Angel’s Finger acquired a name over the years, like Stradivarius’ instruments. All that was required for an Angel’s Finger was a hilt; the blade of bone was unique to the Demon Eater. Milo’s sword, Bonefolder, had belonged to a Scarlet since late in the eighteenth century.

And now Fanny could see demons as well.

Forcing this thought aside, Milo stood beside Betty as an arm lifted up from the expanding ball.

“Why did you do it, Scarlet?” Betty’s voice was soft, no hint of a challenge.

“I don’t answer to you, Betty. Release this demon, and get out of here. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

She snorted, her head jerking as she dismissed his order. “You’re getting soft and should retire. Leave the work to those who can handle it.”

He gestured toward the still unfolding demon. “You call this handling? I call it torture!”

Betty lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t kill him.”

Milo turned to face Maricourt as he struggled to four feet. “What you did is worse than death.”

The elk stood, albeit barely, panting and shaking his great rack of antlers as he tried to focus. Milo knew it would take time, and in that time, he would be Maricourt’s only line of defense.

Betty nodded to the demon. “You have some unfinished business with this demon, Scarlet, but don’t worry. I’m right here to make sure it gets done right.”

 

Previous    Home   Next