I ran out of Strangefellows like a bat out of hell, Jude-the Vatican agent had asked me to call him that-keeping pace with me, despite his shorter legs. The bar was protected by all kinds of spells and wards, not to mention the threat of Merlin's presence. Just because he was dead and buried did not mean he was departed, too. But the rest of the Nightside? The places as protected as Strangefellows could be counted on one hand, and you wouldn't need all fingers. They, and the people who frequented them, could look after themselves. Someone had to look after the rest of the city, and I couldn't believe it had to be me.

I didn't even like the place that much...

'Did you call them here?' I asked Jude, still running, not looking at him. Too busy dodging scared pedestrians and cars. Not everything that looks like a vehicle in the Nightside is one, too. And, scary as they are, they know a bigger fish when they see one.

'Don't be absurd! These are the forces of Hell. They couldn't answer my call if they wanted, and they hate me too much for that.' I could practically hear him frowning.

Still, why would Hell's stormtroopers have such a grudge against one priest? It couldn't just be the profession. There were plenty of priests who didn't get singled out by fallen angels, even in the Nightside, I was sure.

I was tempted to open up my third eye, my private eye, to find who or what Jude really was. To find out why the fallen angels were here. To find out the Unholy Grail, if it really was here, if it was so special...

But, no. The aetheric currents were so saturated with power-thrown around by the Nightside's attackers and defenders alike-that opening my third eye would be painful at best. Not to mention, it would be just like my enemies to send their monsters after me in a situation like this.

I'd have to think of something else.

I ran into a dark side alley, with Jude taking my cue. After we checked around for enemies hidden in shadows, Jude nodded, and took out a bottle of holy water. He sprinkled it on the ground, in a circle around us, and muttered a quick prayer in Hebrew.

'There,' he said, after the deed was done. 'This should keep anything of Hell away, even the Enemy himself-'

That was when it began raining angels. Of light, this time.

I glanced from the suddenly-bright sky to Jude, who was staring at them with a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

'Did you call them here?' I asked quietly, only half-joking. Although, going by his expression, I didn't expect to like the answer.

'No. They are no more likely to heed me than their fallen brethren, and have more reasons not to.' See? If you have low expectations, you'll never be disappointed. It's how people manage to stand me. I think.

'Good to know. And here I was planning to kill you unless they let me go unharmed...' The priest shot me a scandalised look, but I didn't have time for that. The little tricks I kept in my pockets-salt and pepper, chaos dice, and aboriginal pointing bone-were unlikely to do anything more than piss off an angel. They'd be completely useless against an army of them.

No. Whatever my enemies had planned for me, let them do it. I had to-

'Come with me, John.' I spun at the new voice, and came face to face with Walker. Jude did likewise, and, from the corner of my eye, I could tell he looked more resigned than surprised. Curious...

Walker was leaning on his cane, like he had been on a pleasant stroll in the park and had stopped just a bit, to smell the roses. He was not alone.

Shotgun Suzie stood on his right, her namesake trained on the sky for any angel who looked like it was about to get ornery. Dressed in black leather, with two bandoliers of bullets crossed over her impressive chest, Suzie looked like a valkyrie from Hell.

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On Walker's left side stood two of the infamous Oblivion brothers. Tommy, the Existential Detective, was smiling nervously, as always. A tall, effete type in New Romantic silks, Tommy had found existentialism, or it had found him, and now probability was his to play with. Tommy could convince a donkey it had three legs, then beat it to death with the fourth.

Larry, his older brother, was the Dead Detective, the Post-mortem Private Eye. Betrayed and killed by his former partner, Larry had returned from the grave, not letting details like death stop him from continuing the family trade. His Armani suit was almost spotless...except for the smoking hole where his heart should have been. I could have stuck my head through it, but I resisted the impulse to do it.

If Larry was bothered by the wound, he didn't let it show. His face was set in the same serious frown as always.

'So, Larry,' I began, to break the ice. "Did you have a change of heart?"

Tommy's smile widened and twitched at that, but he didn't laugh at his brother. The zombie looked upset enough.

Larry's frown turned into a scowl. 'You're so sharp, you'll cut yourself one of these days, Taylor. I tried to stop an angel when it attacked my office, and failed. It tore right through me.'

'And how did you try to stop it?' I asked innocently. No one knew if Larry had a gift, like his brothers, and I'd always been curious about how he did what he did.

'Carefully,' the zombie said drily. "Any other stupid questions?"

Before I could answer, Tommy cut in. 'I was visiting Larry's agency. I'd gathered some evidence about a Christian artifact being in the Nightside, and wanted to cross-check with him and his experts.' Tommy shook his head. 'Just my luck that the angel attacked right then. It tore through Larry's office, and I couldn't make it agree to reason together with me. So, I used my gift, and convinced the universe that we weren't in Larry's office, but somewhere else. That was when Walker found us.'

'And what are you planning?' I asked, turning to the man in question. 'For that matter, where are your people? Isn't it your duty to defend the Nightside, or are you just foisting everything onto Jason and his troops?'

'My people are scattered through and beneath the city, ready to stall the angels until Julien Advent brings our heavy hitters into play.'

'Julien? What are you talking about?'

Walker smiled. 'When the Angel War began, Julien Advent went into the World Beneath, to awaken the Lord of Thorns. When that is done, they will pass by the Deep School, to join with the Detective Inspectre.'

I was about to question what the hell he was thinking. Julien Advent, the famous Victorian Adventurer, might have been one of the most admired men in the Nightside, but the monsters Walker was talking about were too strange, too alien in their thinking, even for him to convince. Not to mention, calling on those two to stop the angels? Even if they agreed, and managed to do it, the cure would be worse than the disease-

A bone-shaking roar interrupted my train of though. Through the narrow space where the alley opened into the street, I saw a blue shape flash by, for a fraction of a second. An instant later, angels, from Above and Below, fell to the street in pieces.

'What the hell was that?' I asked quietly.

Walker was still smiling. 'Ah... it seems Captain Wolfe has returned to his roots.'