Moon Shadow

8

"Fuck!" I smacked the seat cushion.

"Boss, is everything alright?" Hussein glanced at me through the rear-view mirror.

"Yes." I sighed, then leaned back in my seat and let the wind whistle in my ears as the auto-rickshaw sped down the road. "What should I do?" I muttered, staring at the oblivious people outside. Sometimes I wished I wasn't a sorcerer. Maybe then I wouldn't have to deal with shit like this.

Archangel Remiel was the one backing Esther Bennet.

This was bad.

She hated humans more than anything else.

After God created Earth, Remiel thought it'd be home to archangels and the Highest Order (Seraphim, Cherubim, and Throne). But then God made humans and gave them the planet, wounding Remiel's fragile ego, leading to the manifestation of the first deadly sin—Pride.

Brenda knew nothing about celestial beings and their history. She was like everyone else, relying on religious texts and the clergy for information. But the former wasn't a reliable source because the latter had manipulated it for millennia.

I'd say Lucifer was my only option, but he had returned to Hell. And even if he was here, he'd only twist "the truth" in his favor. Like always.

If only Brenda knew. Sigh.

I wasn't mad at her for giving Esther my work and home address. It was her job. Her nickname was "Switzerland" for goodness' sake. Just like the nation's armed neutrality in global affairs, Brenda did the same in the sorcerer community.

Honestly, the fact she warned me about Esther shocked me. She could've let me swim in darkness while the necromancer had the advantage. But she didn't. And I appreciated her for it.

Esther going to my office wasn't a problem. Aisha and Preacher Boy were there. If the nine-hundred-year-old vampire wouldn't be able to deal with the necromancer until I arrived, then the traveler would take care of her.

Remiel, though? Oof! I wanted no beef with her. I was strong, but not enough to think about fighting an archangel. Lucifer's warning about how archangels had less patience with humans rang in my head. Hopefully, Remiel would leave me alone with the necromancer.

"We're almost there," Hussein said as the auto-rickshaw cut a corner and entered a quiet neighborhood.

There was no one in sight. No street vendors, children chasing each other, or old heads sitting on a log talking about the good old days. It was peaceful—boring. And Mama wanted me to leave the hood and live out here? Pfft! No chance.

Though, I did like how the houses looked. They were big and had colorful walls, looking like something out of a fantasy movie. But the neighborhood's beauty ended there. Outside the homes was a bumpy dirt road with deep puddles from last week's rain.

How was it that a neighborhood full of senators, Olympic athletes, world-famous musicians, famous actors, and wealthy preachers didn't think about repairing it? Didn't they know this shit represented them?

Oh, well. To each their own.

As we neared the preachers' house, I gazed at Hussein. Brenda told Esther about him, and I waited patiently for us to get here before finding out what the necromancer had done to him.

No dark energy surrounded him. So the chance of him being a corpse was off the table. Also, his eyes weren't milky-white—I ticked off "vana possession".

Now, to find out what he knew.

I crossed my index finger over my middle one, activating my puppet magic. Then I clasped my hands and interlaced my fingers, leaving the index ones pointing forward. I tapped them against each other thrice, producing a magical string from each tip. They snaked up Hussein's neck from different sides, coiled around his head, and covered his face like a helmet.