Rusty Nails (The Dade Gibson Case Files) by Jason Brannon Page A

hood and tore it in half as though it was little more than tissue paper. The sharp metal cut him in several places as he played the part of wrecking ball. The blood stained his feathers like a fine dye, and he made no attempt to stop the flow.
    When his anger finally subsided and he was in control of himself again, a brooding black-feathered angel wearing a leather trenchcoat stepped out of the shadows. In such garb, he looked a little like a street corner salesmen with dozens of watches lining the folds of his coat. And, yes, he jingled a little as he walked. But it was stilettos, not watches, that were the reason for the sound.
    “I don’t know how much longer I can go without,” Samael confessed.
    “We all feel your agony,” Midael replied. “We’re all starting to feel remorseful for what we’ve done. There isn’t one of us here who wouldn’t enjoy a shot in the arm.”
    “This would all be simpler if there was no drug to contend with. It’s made slaves out of all of us, including me.”
    “It’s made slaves out of the faithful too,” Midael reminded him.
    “I didn’t want to play games in this war,” Samael admitted. “I wanted to take my place as king of the angels by force. Subterfuge, as I’m sure you’re aware, is not exactly my strong suit. When it’s someone’s time to die, I’m not usually one to leave hints. I just take them when their moment comes. I thought this war would be the same way. I would line up my allegiances, plot my strategy, and charge in with force.”
    “That’s what Lucifer thought too,” Midael reminded him. “Look where it got him.”
    Samael ignored that bit about the angel of light, remembering what Edgemore had said about Lucifer’s disappearance.
    “There’s something about all this I don’t understand,” Midael said, breaking Samael’s train of thought.
    The death angel flashed him a sardonic smile. “Do tell,” he said dryly.
    “I thought the whole purpose of snatching Edgemore’s bones was so you could force him to tell you where he hid what was left of the drug. From what it sounded like to me, he gave you the answer you were looking for. Why aren’t you headed to his tomb to check out his story?”
    “He’s lying to me,” Samael said with some surety.
    “I thought you could force him to tell the truth.”
    It was all Samael could do to refrain from cursing the assassin with a plague of festering sores. “This is a very delicate matter and I wanted to be absolutely sure of myself before I said anything. That’s why I brought Lilith along, to verify what I already suspected. With all of Edgemore’s bones I can threaten his spirit with limbo if I want. The only problem is that I don’t have them all. I’m missing one.”
    “Missing one?” Midael said. “We cleaned out every inch of that tomb. There were no other bones to be found.”
    “I’m well aware of that,” Samael replied, his pupils shifting from yellow to black. “But the fact remains that I don’t have all of Richard Edgemore’s remains.”
    “And just how did Lilith help you determine that?’
    Samael snarled, showing just a hint of yellow fang. He was getting tired of Midael questioning his methods. He also didn’t like the faint smell of Lilith that he detected on the assassin.
    “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” the death angel growled. “But I will this once. Humans can serve as vessels for roaming spirits. Lilith invited Edgemore to possess her. And yet she needed the blood of a crow to draw him in. If we were in possession of all the bones, he would have had no choice but to do as she commanded.”
    “So what‘s your plan?” Midael asked.
    Samael growled once and bared his yellowed fangs. Before Midael could react, Samael had him by the lapels of his overcoat. The stiletto angel was unable to spread his wings in time to avoid being hurled into a massive stack of cars. At impact, the cars immediately toppled over like dominoes. Midael softly grunted