Chapter 802

"Still nothing? I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. was supposed to be more efficient than this."

Inside one of the aircraft’s rooms, Melinda May was hunched over a laptop, fingers moving across the keyboard.

Evenson paced behind her with his hands on his hips.

He wasn’t helping.

He was, however, providing a steady stream of complaints.

Hannah Higgins had given them a lead—the surname Delaire, supposedly belonging to the mysterious financier behind the particle-collider laboratory.

Unfortunately, finding a surname was one thing.

Finding the man’s real identity and current location was another.

That was where S.H.I.E.L.D.’s intelligence network came in.

Evenson’s expertise with computers extended roughly as far as watching movies and playing video games. So he’d called May over to handle the search.

Apparently, she wasn’t enjoying it any more than he was.

"It’s been fifteen minutes."

"Be patient."

May didn’t even look up.

"The money moved through several offshore banks. Tracing it backward is difficult, and your only lead is a surname."

Her fingers paused for half a second before continuing.

"To make matters worse, all of those banks take client privacy very seriously. Without official warrants or an agent physically present, I’m stuck hacking their systems the slow way."

She sighed.

"And they’ve upgraded their security since the last time I did this. Some of the programs I have are outdated."

May finally glanced over her shoulder.

"Honestly, you should ask Skye. She’s the one who does this professionally."

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"She’d be too scared to refuse me?"

"Probably."

May returned her attention to the screen.

"At least she’d make herself useful."

Melinda May was protective of younger agents.

That didn’t mean she went easy on them.

She had opposed Skye joining their special team from the beginning. Coulson had insisted, and May had reluctantly accepted the decision, but she had never forgotten Skye’s previous security breach.

Time hadn’t changed that.

Some grudges simply required proper maintenance.

And if anyone had ever asked Evenson whether May held grudges, he would have answered with another question.

Was she really Melinda May if she didn’t?

There was a reason S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had a saying about crossing her.

Unfortunately, someone had apparently made the mistake of testing it.

A sharp crack sounded.

Then a wet cough.

May calmly lowered her hand.

A hapless agent was left slumped against the wall, coughing blood.

"I hate being called the Cavalry."

She turned and walked away.

Evenson wisely said nothing.

Skye’s relationship with May was therefore unlikely to improve anytime soon.

It didn’t help that Skye herself had no interest in repairing it. She had plenty of complaints about May’s methods, and lately she’d been asking everyone she could find why exactly May had earned the nickname the Cavalry.

If May found out about that, things were going to get ugly.

Fortunately, Evenson had a conscience.

Sort of.

He’d spent enough time messing with Skye to make her curious, but he’d also quietly made sure every improvised weapon on the plane had disappeared into his bag.

A folding chair here.

A random blunt object there.

Better safe than sorry.

Jokes were one thing.

Bloodstains were another.

"So," May said after another failed attempt to breach the system, "what exactly did this Delaire guy do? And what does he have that Mephisto wants?"

Evenson shrugged.

"The Delaire family was a fairly prominent French noble family. They became infamous for their obsession with black magic."

"Really?"

May frowned.

"I’ve never heard of them."

"That’s normal."

Evenson tilted his head.

"Delaire isn’t actually their original family name. The ’De’ became part of their middle name, while ’Laire’ was derived from an older form, Les."

May’s expression slowly changed.

"They were originally nobles, then?"

"Very powerful ones. Eventually the family fell into decline and became involved in some rather unpleasant business. They changed their name afterward."

"De... Les."

May repeated it quietly.

The name felt familiar.

She just couldn’t place it.

"So what did they do? Steal something from Mephisto?"

"If they had, they wouldn’t have survived until today."

Evenson chuckled.

"Demons are petty. Very petty. Possibly even more petty than you."

May gave him a flat look.

He ignored it.

"There are old stories about clever humans stealing things from demons, but that’s exactly why they’re stories. And the older versions weren’t exactly children’s bedtime material."

He leaned back.

"The Delaire family had fallen on hard times, but they were still aristocrats. They had enough money to live comfortably."

Evenson shrugged.

"If that were me, I’d have taken the hint and enjoyed the easy life."

"But apparently they thought having food, money, and nothing to worry about wasn’t enough."

"Since their family already had a history of dabbling in black magic, sometime around the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century, they commissioned a famous toymaker to create something for them."

May’s hands stopped moving.

"A magical cube."

"According to the records, opening it would create a gateway to Hell and allow powerful demons to enter the mortal world and harvest human souls."

Evenson’s expression grew more serious.

"That’s why Mephisto doesn’t want the cube left in human hands."

May frowned.

"What does he want with it?"

She hesitated.

"Is he trying to open a gateway between Hell and Earth? Start a war?"

"Of course not."

Evenson laughed.

"Mephisto may be many things, but he’s not stupid. Starting a war with Earth would be a terrible idea. Asgard wouldn’t simply stand by and watch."

He shrugged.

"Two hundred years ago, perhaps he’d have considered it. Today?"

His smile faded slightly.

"Times change. Even a demon lord can’t predict how history will develop."

"Right."

May relaxed somewhat.

Then she gave him a sidelong glance.

"I didn’t realize you knew this much obscure history."

"Of course I do."

Evenson looked offended by the suggestion otherwise.

"Being a con artist requires a certain theoretical foundation."

May rolled her eyes.

"And don’t forget who my girlfriend is. Kamar-Taj has records on plenty of history that never made it into conventional textbooks."

That part wasn’t an excuse.

Evenson really had learned this from Kamar-Taj.

It wasn’t because he’d suddenly developed an obsession with obscure historical trivia.

It had started when he’d discovered that Clea was studying material from the Book of the Vishanti.

That had immediately made him nervous.

Very nervous.

So he’d done what any responsible boyfriend would do.

He’d researched the history of the forbidden text.

That was how he’d stumbled across the Delaire family.

"Wait."

May’s eyes narrowed.

"De Les..."

The name had been bothering her ever since Evenson mentioned it.

Then, suddenly, the memory clicked.

"The Delaire family’s ancestor..."

She stared at him.

"Bluebeard?"

Evenson’s smile widened.

"The famous French marshal who served alongside Joan of Arc."

May’s eyes widened.

"Gilles de Rais?"

Evenson gave her a solemn nod.

"I die with my marshal."

May stared at him.

"You’re actually serious."

"Completely."

"So those legends were real..."

May shook her head slowly.

It was no wonder people said European history sounded fictional.

Apparently, the truth had simply decided to compete.

At least whoever had written the old stories had known how to make them believable.

"Found him!"

May’s voice suddenly cut through his thoughts.

Evenson immediately looked over.

A photograph had appeared on the screen.

A young man in expensive, conservative clothing stared back at them.

May pointed at the image.

"He’s living in Nevada."

"Perfect."

Evenson clapped his hands once.

Then his expression fell.

"Wait."

He stared at the screen.

"How exactly am I getting to Nevada?"

There were several problems with that.

First, he was currently assigned to a mission with Coulson. He couldn’t simply abandon the team.

Even if he explained that he was following a lead connected to the particle-collider explosion, Coulson would insist on coming along.

And Evenson didn’t want Coulson involved in this particular matter.

Second, even if he ignored protocol and simply opened a portal off the plane, Nevada didn’t have one of his demonic teleportation circles.

Was he supposed to drive?

That was a long way.

His car didn’t require gasoline, which was convenient.

It didn’t make sitting behind the wheel for hours any more pleasant.

And tires weren’t free.

Evenson sat in the conference room, trying to decide whether postage or tire wear would cost him more.

Maybe he could draw a teleportation circle on paper and mail it directly to Delaire.

Overnight shipping should get it there the same day.

Probably.

Assuming he could survive the shipping fee.

He was still contemplating the economics of magical courier services when fate solved the problem for him.

A shower of sparks erupted in front of him.

Evenson stared.

The sparks crackled and twisted through the air.

Seriously?

His first thought was that whoever had invented magical teleportation had apparently never heard of air pollution.

The sparks eventually formed an oval-shaped portal.

A robed figure stepped through.

Judging by the figure’s build, Evenson couldn’t immediately tell whether the person was a man or a woman.

S.H.I.E.L.D. reacted instantly.

Coulson and the others rushed into the room.

A stranger had just appeared aboard their aircraft.

That was enough to trigger every alarm they had.

The newcomer, however, simply pulled back the hood and dropped into the seat beside Evenson.

"You are ridiculously hard to find."

The voice was familiar.

"The Ancient One already complained that I need more practice opening portals. Apparently this is my training exercise."

The figure sighed.

"I was half convinced I’d teleport myself into one of the engines."

Then the newcomer looked at Evenson.

"Why do you keep flying around on airplanes?"

Coulson’s hand, which had already reached for his pistol, slowly relaxed.

He recognized her.

It was Lily Grant.

He’d met her once before.

According to Evenson, she was Clea’s senior at Kamar-Taj.

Coulson had long since stopped trying to understand the relationships surrounding Evenson’s magical life.

There were too many layers.

Evenson, meanwhile, suddenly straightened.

He tapped the armrest with one finger.

"Watch your manners. Respect your teacher."

Lily stared at him.

Then she gave him an utterly unconvincing little bow.

"Please forgive me, Master."

She sounded like she regretted every decision that had led her to this moment.

"Honestly, I still can’t believe I agreed to this."

Then she waved dismissively.

"Enough. Someone sent me to bring you a message. Come on."

"A message?"

Evenson raised an eyebrow.

"From who?"

Lily’s lips twitched.

"You really want the formal version?"

Evenson nodded.

She took a breath.

"Very well. The Abyssal Knight clad in twilight, the Wild Hunt King who rides above the Black Storm—"

"Okay, okay."

Evenson immediately waved both hands.

"I know who you mean."

Lily stopped.

"She’s got a different title now, but you two aren’t strangers. Just use her name."

He grimaced.

"All those dramatic titles are giving me a headache."

"I agree."

Lily looked relieved.

"I’ve known Clea for years. If I had to keep calling her things like that, I’d probably die of embarrassment."

She stood.

"Anyway, Clea and the Ancient One want you to attend a ceremony."

"A ceremony?"

Evenson’s brow furrowed.

The word ceremony had only one meaning in his mind.

Money.

Someone was going to expect a gift.

Lily saw the look on his face.

"The Ancient One is taking on a disciple."

Evenson’s expression immediately changed.

"Oh."

He nodded.

"That’s different."

He stood.

"Let’s go."

"Hold on!"

Coulson stepped forward.

"You’re leaving?"

The look on his face was somewhere between disbelief and professional frustration.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had assigned Evenson to the mission.

The mission wasn’t finished.

And now Evenson was simply walking away.

"There are priorities."

Evenson turned toward him.

"The Ancient One is the protector of Earth. She stands between this world and supernatural threats."

He spoke with complete seriousness.

"When she takes on a new disciple, magical practitioners from across the world will gather. Naturally, there may be demons, monsters, and other hostile forces looking for an opportunity to cause trouble."

He placed a hand over his chest.

"For the sake of humanity, I must attend."

Then he subtly nudged Lily’s foot with his own.

Lily blinked.

Then immediately understood.

"Why are you kicking me?"

She caught herself.

"I mean—yes. Exactly."

She nodded enthusiastically.

"The Ancient One taking on a disciple will bring together powerful figures from the magical world. It’s practically guaranteed that someone will try something."

She hesitated.

"The consequences could be disastrous."

Then she looked at Evenson.

"And last time..."

Evenson stared at her.

Stop.

She’d already gone too far.

You had a perfectly good ending at ’disastrous.’

But Lily continued.

"Last time, because everyone let their guard down..."

She faltered.

"...a powerful demon escaped from captivity."

Evenson had no choice but to take over.

"Exactly."

He nodded solemnly.

"His name was Attila."

He looked directly at Coulson.

"So you see the situation."

Coulson’s expression became difficult to describe.

He wasn’t fooled.

Not remotely.

Their performance had been so obviously terrible that it was almost insulting.

They couldn’t possibly expect him to believe this.

Unless...

Coulson glanced at the portal.

Hannah had already been secured.

Once they reached the destination, all they really needed to do was put her somewhere safe and finish processing the case.

Maybe Evenson really could leave.

For some reason, that thought actually made sense.

Coulson decided to accept it.

He had no intention of admitting that he had been successfully manipulated by two people who were terrible liars.

Evenson and Lily stepped through the portal.

The oval of light began to close behind them.

Then Evenson turned toward Lily.

"Actually..."

He rubbed his chin.

"I’ve got something urgent to take care of."

Lily glanced at him.

"Yeah?"

"Can we take a little detour?"

The portal snapped shut.