Wrath of the Demon Girl

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Wrath of the Demon Girl Page 15

by Eddie R. Hicks


  The guard gave the closet a stare. “Oh?”

  “I really think you should check it out.”

  Fuck me. That asshole was trying to call me out after all I did for him. One of the armed men approached, holding onto his weapon in the process. He knew something was up, after all who places expected reports on a USB drive and leaves it randomly in the closet? These guys weren’t stupid, neither was I. I remained in my water elemental attunement. Fire would draw too much attention with the light from the flames rippling off my body, though, with the threat looming closer, it might not matter. I grabbed hold of the leg of the dead lab worker sharing the closet with me freezing it solid, and then breaking it off from his body.

  The armed man opened the closet door. I opened his head up with a swift bash from the frozen leg. The commotion got all eyes on me as I swiped his pistol, dove, and rolled across the floor, creating glacial shields in my wake to block the next wave of bullets that came at me from the second guard.

  My cover was officially blown. It was time for the good stuff. Raging flames replaced the ice water that covered my body as I imbued the pistol with the element of fire. The bullets it fired caused the lab worker that tried to run, and the guard shooting at me, to burst into flames from the entry wound, before the pistol melted. My flamethrower talent discharged afterward, setting the lab ablaze, preventing future experiments.

  Fire alarms rang, sprinklers systems rained water, water that wasn’t strong enough to put out the flames that danced around my body. I walked out into the halls and ditched the wig and shades. It was time these fuckers learn that Reika Araya was here.

  Panic came first as droves of clients fled away from my fiery appearance. Then came the action when the Russians came to put out the source of the fire, me. Bodies became engulfed in flames and hit the floor. There was no stopping my magical talents. Sooner or later these thugs would get the message, a woman covered in flames slowly walking through an engulfed hallway past the smoldering bodies of your friends, shouldn’t be fucked with.

  I inched my way closer and closer to the display area, taking cover whenever possible when bullets came at me, returning fire with a hail of fireballs when the window of opportunity opened. When I was really feeling cocky, I swiped pistols off dead bodies and shot flaming rounds at my targets before the pistols melted. My dual-wielding gun-fu was on point.

  I dove into the display area and scanned my surroundings quickly. Apart from the dead guards I popped as I kicked in the doors, I was alone. Most of the thugs had left the area to deal with me in the halls, what became of the trafficked girls was anyone’s guess, hopefully fled through the wide-open fire exit door. In any case, I was wasting time. This place was going up in smoke. Belyana and Emily were my only loose ends, and if I didn’t move quickly they’d become part of the body count I created.

  With my dual pistols still in hand, I ran past the death and destruction I created and regrouped with Belyana. She was still in the makeshift room where I left her, safe and sound from the flames, smoke, and the bullet storm that recently passed.

  I went to grab her and escort her out of this mess before reinforcements arrived. She wasn’t as cooperative as I thought she’d be, damn near had to be forced to her feet. Looking at her hair, I saw why, it had turned a shade of green. Looking at the display on my phone I saw, it was six past twelve a.m. Belyana had become the succubus inside her. Let’s call that succubus, Anastasia, for now, because the two were entirely different people.

  “Stand up straight, girly,” I said to her.

  “The heat . . . it’s . . .” Anastasia stumbled about like she had been binge drinking.

  I ended up having to carry her out and utilized my water veil to cover my body. I couldn’t risk burning her with my flames. The tradeoff was smoke and fire could harm me, not as much thanks to the slight resistance I had to fire with my water veil up, but it was there. I coughed, thanks to the smoke in the area, and darted back across the warehouse to the entrance I had entered from. Emily was still trapped in the bag with the zipper all the way up. There was no way for her to get out on her own, unlike the last time we did this trick.

  Sweat was dripping off my face when I arrived at the coat room with Anastasia still in my arms. We were steps away from freedom, I just needed to swipe my bag, bolt out into the parking lot, and hope a lengthy car chase wouldn’t ensue. Doubtful, with all the bodies behind me in the halls.

  Anastasia was placed on the ground. Her skin had become dry and flaky, her breathing was almost nonexistent. I get it, there was smoke and fires we had to pass, but we weren’t traveling through it that long, why the hell was she dying in my arms? Fuck it, one thing at a time. I focused on searching for my bag. Escaping with Emily and Belyana, slash, Anastasia was the goal, I needed to finish that.

  The bag wasn’t there. I guess lady luck went out for a smoke break.

  “Leaving so soon?” That voice. It was none other than . . .

  I stood and turned, frowning at the figure holding my backpack. Asmodeus, that cheeky fucker. “Yeah,” I grunted at him. “The party kinda died.”

  Pissing him off was probably the stupidest thing I could do. Scratch that. Attacking him was as he held the bag close to his face and chest. I held back, Emily’s life depended on it, though I made sure to not show it. Both my pistols aimed at him while a pair of ice missiles appeared and hovered above my left and right shoulders.

  Asmodeus smirked, not giving a fuck, and rightfully so. I had hundreds of ways to kill him. All would kill his host, something Emily didn’t want to start with. The demonic soul on the inside would repossess a new body when one became available. Only an enchanted weapon could kill Asmodeus’ soul. Too bad all that shit was in my bag with Emily.

  “Your Bakeneko wasn’t around when you attacked,” Asmodeus said as his hand yanked out Emily’s limp cat appearance from my bag. “And then you came running back here rather than to the nearest fire exit. I’m not stupid.”

  He must have given my bag a good hit before grabbing it, knocking Emily out in the process. After all, you don’t dangle a cat by the neck like that, it’d claw and bite the shit out of you, and Emily was no normal cat.

  “She’s still alive,” Asmodeus added. “My host Vladimir has fond memories of encountering a shape-shifting cat in the past; I’ll spare you the details of what became of it. But defy me, and I will ensure this Bakeneko will experience the same fate. Hand over the Rusalka, and I’ll allow you to dictate this Bakeneko’s fate.”

  “Get fucked, buddy.”

  Asmodeus’ lips moved, he was about to say more until the wails of sirens outside blared. He backed away slowly instead, with Emily still in hand. My weaponry never lost sight of him, despite the worrying thoughts as to what might come next.

  I tried to keep up with his backtracking now he was aware the boys in blue were on their way. A shot to the leg, or perhaps an ice missile in the gut might do. I’d have to be quick, since he was one finger away from ending Emily with the enhanced pistol. I had things to lose, he had nothing. Never in my life would I think someone holding a cat hostage would force me to back down. As silly as the situation looked, that cat was the closest thing I had to a good friend as of late.

  His flaming veil flashed around his body, and he created a pillar of flames ahead of me. I was still attuned to water, running through the flames would have hurt, big time. The ice missiles around me melted as I made the switch, covering my body in flames to run through. When I did so, Asmodeus was long gone. Something the police and firefighters weren’t going to be anytime soon.

  I had to bail before I became the subject of a lengthy police investigation. I wasn’t supposed to be here or know of this place. I’d done a whole lot of naughty things to get this far and carried with me a succubus, who was more of a victim than a villain. But try explaining that to the paranormal team who considered all demons on the same level as criminals.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I’d been making a habi
t of storming through doors all night. Doing the same to the front door of the safe house Jim had been recovering in was no different. It was close by and, well, not a hospital, someplace you shouldn’t be taking a dying succubus. And in the case of Jim the other night, a fixer that got into a bad car accident. It worked fine for him, hopefully it will do the same for her.

  I placed Anastasia on the couch, and then verified if Jim was awake. He wasn’t, good I was free to continue without him knowing about the underground world I found myself knee-deep in. I did the usual thing one should probably do in this situation, checking for vitals and all that shit, the irony of the situation was amusing. I was trying to save the life of a demon, after spending the last seven months trying to rid the city of them, their followers, and help people whom were victims of them.

  She was still unresponsive, and I dare say, her condition worsened. I’d figured she’d probably come to after we left the burning warehouse. Looks like I figured wrong. I scrolled through my phone’s directory, looking for someone I could call for assistance. The list of names that could help with this situation was small. Emily, Jim, Gabe, none of them were an option.

  Charles, however . . .

  “’ello?” Charles said, answering my call to him.

  “You’re awake, thank fuck.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to get my Shadow Priest level one-oh-nine before I went to sleep.”

  “Your what?”

  “It’s my alt in World of Warcraft—”

  “Okay, shut up.” I looked down at Anastasia’s withering body. “I got an emergency here and I need your help.”

  “Oh, what’s wrong, Reika?”

  “Tell me what you know about the Rusalka.”

  “Demonic water-based succubus that were thought to originate from Russia.”

  “I have one here that’s dying.”

  “Whoa, what? How did you—”

  “It’s not important, just tell me what I need to do, she’s unresponsive.”

  “I take it she’s not in water?”

  “No.”

  “Do that quickly, they’ll die if they’re out of water too long.”

  That got me thinking back to the previous encounter with her, and that long-ass shower she was taking and wanted to share with Charles. It all made sense. Rusalka living in the city would need to bathe or shower frequently in order to stay alive. The heat from the fires earlier was a death sentence.

  I cradled my phone between my ear and shoulder, while I carried her into the washroom and plopped her body into the bathtub. Nice warm and refreshing water filled the tub afterward, drenching the expensive and sexy-as-fuck dress and stockings she wore.

  “Okay, Charles, I got a warm bath rolling, now what?”

  “Good, she should come to in a minute.”

  A minute or so had passed. Her eyes remained shut. “Only, she’s not.”

  “Hmm.” I could tell by that and the long pause that followed, either he had nothing else to offer or was lost in deep thought. I really hoped it was the latter, I’d rather not have to explain to Jim why there’s a dead body floating in the tub. “Was she exposed to a lot of heat?”

  “Heat from a burning building, yeah.”

  “Okay, you’ll want that water ice cold then, and hope for a miracle.” Miracles, I chuckled at that thought. Those had been in short supply for me over the last year. I guess the demonic nature of my presence had something to do with that. “Being out of the water is one thing, exposed to extreme heat could be the end of her,” Charles added.

  Ice water once again covered my body as I tapped into my source of water-based talents. I tossed baseball-sized chunks of ice into the bath water, rapidly cooling it down. I might have overdone it as the water turned into slush with her body floating in it comfortably.

  “Anything else?” I added.

  “Water can’t kill them, so don’t be afraid to keep her head underwater, in fact, it might speed up the recovery process,” Charles said. “Outside of that, there’s nothing else you can do. Damn, I wish I was there to help.”

  “You are helping.” I stood and dipped my hand into my pockets. Well, Jae-geun’s pockets technically, as I still wore his outfit. I guess I should give that back, I hope he doesn’t mind the blood and soot all over it. Out from the pockets came the vial and USB drive I jacked from the lab, I gave it a long stare. “And if you want to help this girl further, keep your availability free and check your email in a few.”

  A soft beep from my phone signaled the end of our call. With nothing else to do, I powered on a laptop in the living room, stuck the USB drive into it, and sent the files it contained to Charles via email. Afterward, I sat back on the couch as the bluish light from the laptop bathed my body and hoped the progress I had made was worth what happened to Emily.

  I needed a drink . . . especially after I remembered that Asmodeus was the demon of lust, and Emily tended to revert back to her human form naked.

  The comforting sounds of someone waving their hands through water stopped me when I had sat up to grab a bottle of scotch. I cracked open the bottle, downed a gulp of it and returned to the washroom, grinning at the green-haired woman that sat up in the tub with life in her body.

  “Rise and shine, buttercup,” I said then took another hit of scotch.

  “Where am I?” she asked in a spaced out manner.

  “This is a safe house run by a friend.” I took a third hit of the drink. After a night like this, I needed it. “So, is this Belyana or Anastasia I’m talking to?” As if I didn’t know the answer.

  “Anastasia, that’s the name the men that kept me fed gave me,” she said. “I believe my host was referred to as Belyana.”

  “Do what you need to do to recover and survive the night. Just don’t drown your host when she comes back in the morning. I still need to get paid.”

  I left to sit back on the couch, keeping my katana close. Goddamn I missed that blade. My lips were glued to the bottle of scotch, I couldn’t put it down. It was like Pringles, once you pop, you can’t stop.

  Until you get a little drunk and pass the fuck out.

  I woke up later that night, with my head spinning like a top. I heard movement in the distance, like someone walking . . . and dragging something. Emily stealing shit I figured, until I remembered she wasn’t with us. It was myself, Jim, and Anastasia here—

  “Oh fuck,” I groaned after mustering the power to stand.

  Wet footprints were on the floor. They went from the washroom to Jim’s room. Whoever made them was drenched with water and made no attempt to dry up before leaving, as if I didn’t know who it was.

  I stumbled into Jim’s room, he wasn’t there. His bed sheets were damp with water. I followed the trail of water back into the washroom where I found Jim laying on the floor, and Anastasia over top of him ready to peel his clothes off. The succubus wanted a late night snack.

  I drew my katana at her. “Get away from him!”

  Anastasia’s eyes met mine. They remained fixed on me as she lowered her head to lick the side of Jim’s face. He didn’t respond to that, or the fact he’d been dragged out of bed into the washroom. I might have been too late.

  “I must feed,” Anastasia said. “It has been too long.”

  “And it’s been far too long since I cut someone with this,” I said, waving my katana. “Look, I got what? Two hours of sleep? I'm fuckin’ annoyed. Move away from him, now.”

  She called my bluff and tore Jim’s pants off. Her hands slithered down his chest, while the drenched dress she wore drizzled ice-cold water droplets onto his body. She knew I wasn’t going to kill her, not while she held Belyana’s body hostage and Jim’s life in her hands. Quite literally, since she proceeded to wrap her hand around his junk as her mouth inched closer to it in an erotic manner.

  She stopped to look at me once again with the crazy smile on her face. “Do you wish to feed on him too?” She paused to lick the side of his shaft, gliding her tongue from bottom to the top. “W
e could share.”

  “I’m not a succubus.”

  “Don’t deny what you are.”

  “I know what I am.”

  “And what is that?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how to exactly, since I was still running from the truth about myself. “I will not be able to sustain myself without feeding, and as you kindly offered, ‘do what you need to do to recover and survive the night.’”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “If I fade, so does my host. Is that what you want?”

  I grimaced, hard. “. . . No.”

  “Feed me, or I will not survive.”

  Just like that, she pushed me between a rock and a hard place. Sacrifice Jim’s life to save Anastasia’s and, in turn, Belyana’s, or let her starve to death because she was denied what all succubi need to live, sex, and lots of it. It was a fucked-up predicament.

  I dropped my katana. It hit the floor with a loud clang as I made my offer. “Take me.”

  “You?” Anastasia’s face twisted as she stood and approached me. She walked circles around me like I was a piece of meat hanging in a butcher’s shop. “You are not a man. You will not sustain me for long.” I was a sirloin to her. Jim was the wagyu prime rib.

  “But you’ll live for the time being, right?”

  She winced. “I will.”

  “Then do it.”

  And that she did, pushing me against the wall, leaping onto my body with an aggressive make-out session. Her hands held onto my head, keeping it still so her tongue could dominate mine. The longer we went at it, the more she became relaxed and comfortable about the situation, probably because I was still dressed like a man from earlier.

  She threw me into the bathtub, a wave of water splashed up and over it, drenching the floor on the outside and Jim’s naked body still lying lifelessly before it. Her panties ended up floating on the surface of the bath water, then her dress and bra, and then Jae-geun’s attire that I still wore. This wasn’t the first time I was with a succubus, though it was the first time I willfully allowed it to happen with my mind not being warped. Jim was human, man, something I wasn’t. Unlike him, I could survive an encounter with a succubus.

 

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