by Michael Todd
He knew his place in the ranks and always tried to stay as respectful as possible. That said, he would not stand back and accept decisions that easily could—and most likely would—cost his trainee and friend his life. If Max were to die out there, it would fall on Damian’s head and heart. He could not endure that. At the same time, though, they worked the same way any business did, and he took orders from the higher-ups in the church. There was a ranking system among them, but the Wise Men had to understand that Damian worked for an even higher power. He knew that God would not lead him down the wrong road, and he would make sure the church leadership didn’t either.
The priest walked slowly toward the SUV. He would protect Max against all evil, even if it came in the form of those who should lead and protect them. One thing he’d learned from many years in the merc service was the fact that things weren’t always what they seemed. Sometimes, evil disguised itself in familiar skin—or robes, in this case.
Damian opened the drivers-side door and climbed inside. He looked straight ahead and immediately put the car in drive, not saying a word to his passenger. They drove silently through the town, more slowly this time since there were now more people out and about, dawn having broken while he was in the meeting. The trainee glanced at him every few minutes, but he avoided eye contact and tried to calm his mind.
Max watched the early-morning activity and thoughts of easier times floated through his mind. By the time they reached the edge of town, though, he had tired of the silent treatment.
He looked at his mentor, chewing on his lip. “So, did they, like, fire you or something? If you’re going rogue, we should talk, because I may want to get out.”
Damian chuckled. “Wouldn’t you like that? No, we have a mission. We leave for Scotland tomorrow.”
“Scotland. Wow.”
“Apparently, there is a cell kidnapping innocents, turning them, and sacrificing them to Moloch. On top of that, a portal was opened, and demons are mingled with the Damned, although they aren’t hard to spot. We will meet mercs at the scene and exorcise as many Damned as we can. I’m not sure how many of each there are, but we will rely heavily on the mercs to eliminate the demons. Of course, I won’t let us walk in without some sort of protection, but I gotta figure out how to get it there if we fly.”
Max looked away for a moment. “So, this is a full-on incursion? Like, we roll up with mercs who take the demons down?”
Damian smiled. “That’s right. This will be your first big incursion. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time. We’ll do what we did before, only with a lot more help. Think about it—if we’d had mercs at the church, we would have been a lot safer. That is what we’ll have in Scotland.”
Max clutched his hands together in his lap. Damian noticed but didn’t comment. “Well, I guess I had to pop that cherry at some point, right?” the young man said with false bravado. “But I’m glad I’ll be there with you, learning what to do.”
Damian didn’t respond, and definitely wouldn’t tell him that the orders were for him to go out on his own. He could tell from Max’s reaction that he wasn’t ready. The Wise Men had no idea how to train. They had some sort of agenda, but Damian didn’t give a damn. He would keep his mentee safe, no matter what he had to do.
It was almost noon when they arrived at the house. Max helped unload the SUV and went quietly to his bedroom. Damian listened outside his door and heard him climb into bed. That was a good thing, since the exorcism had exhausted him and the young priest needed to rest so he could be at full strength for the things ahead in the coming days. For once, Damian couldn’t indulge his own weariness. So many things floated around in his head that he could barely keep one thought straight.
He changed into his pajamas and stared at his bed for several moments, anger tensing his muscles. Still pissed about his meeting, he knew if he laid down he would simply stare at the ceiling while the anger festered. He flipped the light off and walked to the small bar, where he selected a rocks glass. Tracing the different bottle tops with his finger, he selected a subtle and chill whiskey. Damian poured two fingers into his glass and swished it before taking a sip.
Ravi perked up as soon as the whiskey hit his tongue. It’s about fucking time. Seriously, I started to think that with all the stress we’re under, our heads would explode. This was exactly what we needed. Hell, we needed it back in that room with the three Wise Douches.
Damian laughed as he eased into his chair. I can agree wholeheartedly with you on that one. It took everything I had to not flip out on them, although the last thing I want is to end up on some crazy security duty in the Amazon because I pissed them off.
The demon grimaced. Yeah, I don’t like snakes or furry creatures or insects, so let’s stay away from there.
I thought you demons loved those things? Especially as a late-afternoon snack.
She made a gagging sound. Some of us, believe it or not, actually have a modicum of class. I know, it’s nuts, right?
Damian shook his head as he stood and threw some logs in the fireplace. He squatted and started the blaze, using the poker to stoke it. His thoughts jumped from the upcoming trip to the mysteries that faced him, and he stared gloomily into the flames. There was so much going on, and he longed to relax. Thoughts of the cardinal constantly nagged in the back of his mind, however, and he had to scratch that itch. Seeing the three Wise Men earlier had ignited that inner burn again, and he couldn’t help but recall the picture of them with the cardinal whenever he saw them. There had to be some connection.
When the fire blazed cheerfully, he opened the hidden safe to retrieve the top journal. He sat with his feet up, took a long sip of whiskey, and breathed deep, pulling the throw over his shoulders against the chill in the air.
Damian opened the journal to the second page. “Okay, Cardinal, let’s figure out what secrets you’re hiding.”
October 31, 1965
After my last journal entry, things were quiet. The night air held a calm I had not known since I was a young boy playing in the courtyard of the monastery. The trees looked beautiful in their vibrant fall colors, the children laughed wildly, and the birds seemed to sing to me again. When I prayed, I felt my words were heard. When I lit the candles of worship, they glowed with a power I had not sensed before. The presence of God was all around me.
I went to bed last night tired from the day’s work. The people of the parish had been blessed with plenty, but it took work to reap. It was good work, though, the kind that helped you remember exactly why you did what you did every day. I knew that All Hallows Eve lurked, but I suppose I hoped I could escape it without issues. After laying my head on the pillow, I stared at the clock. The time seemed to tick by faster than normal, and the clicks the hands made echoed like a drum through my chambers.
When it struck midnight, it was officially All Hallows Eve. I sat up in my bed, expectant, as if someone was destined to appear. After a few moments, I laughed, thinking that it was just my mind playing tricks on me. However, a few moments later, a loud thump sounded in my room, and wind whipped around wildly, blowing out the lamp. I clung to my sheets, uncertain what to do. He stood before me in the darkness, his eyes shining brightly through the shadows of night. His laughter bellowed, but only for a moment.
When I opened my eyes again, the lamp was lit and the demon was gone. I thought perhaps I had only dreamt it. I turned over, relieved, and fell asleep. This morning came too soon, with so much to do. I hurried from my chambers and did not return until nightfall. As I sat here in my pajamas, reading the word of the Lord, I glanced at a mark on the floor across the room. Curious, I walked to it and stopped, my breath catching in my throat. In the floor were deep gashes, as if something had clawed the wood.
My gaze shifted to the wall, where a message was written in dripping blood. It read, I will return at the stroke of midnight.
I watch the clock. It’s 11:55.
Chapter Eleven
Max breathed heavily as he slow
ed the treadmill to a fast walk. He was warming up for a strong, healthy workout with Astaroth, and the upcoming fight constantly invaded his thoughts. It would be beyond his experience, and he was nervous. He knew he could exorcise and he knew that he could fight to a degree, but he had not tested those two things in such a large-scale situation before.
Astaroth was ready. It’s no use sitting there dwelling on it. Let’s get some hand-to-hand combat in. Grab one of the dagger dummies and put it on the floor. You’ll practice offense today.
The young priest turned the treadmill off, grabbed his towel, and wiped his forehead before he retrieved one of the dummies. He twisted the pole to raise it to eye level and tossed his towel aside. Okay. I’m ready.
The demon thought carefully. I’ll call out moves for you to make. Try not to anticipate them. Just move with my words. Focus on the movements.
Max nodded, rolled his shoulders, and stretched. He moved into position and waited. Astaroth began to bark simple but clear commands. Max gritted his teeth and attempted to complete each action. The dummy’s head bounced a little, but mostly a tangle of arms whirled wildly around it. There was no grace to his movements. In fact, the harder he tried, the crazier it got.
Finally, after about five minutes of total chaos, Astaroth stopped him. Stop. Stop. Good Lord, Maximus. You look like one of those waving tube men at the side of the road in a car dealership, only with six arms. You need to calm yourself and find your inner momentum. Focus your mind on each individual hand movement. Connect your mind with your hands so completely that you don’t even remember my commands when you’re finished. Keep this up, and that dummy will start fighting back. If that happens, we shut it down and find a new career—something safe like stuffing pillows or painting fences.
Max dropped his arms to his side and shook his head. We may need to eventually face the fact that putting me in combat could have unintended consequences. It could spark an international conflict.
Astaroth chuckled. No, no. Once you learn to focus on your movements, you’ll see how easy it becomes. Come on, let’s try again.
The priest cracked his neck. Ready when you are, Sensei.
Max inhaled a deep, calming breath, closed his eyes, and tried to release the anxiety from his chest. He didn’t want any distractions. Instinct told him that knowing how to defend and fight might be critical to his survival on the upcoming mission.
Astaroth started again. Right punch to the neck, left punch to the chest. Right chop to the neck, left chop to the arm…
The demon continued, paying close attention to every move the human made. Feeling the rhythm flow through him, Max opened his eyes and watched his movements. He knew his mind was responsible, but it felt almost as natural and thoughtless as walking down the street. His hands moved fluidly, with his elbows tucked in neatly. With every new round his motions became more fluid, and by the fifth round, his actions were twice as fast as when he had started.
Max smiled as he turned, trying new moves as they were called out to him. Do you see this?
Astaroth couldn’t help but laugh. I do. Concentrate. One more round and we break. When we come back, we will incorporate the legs.
The trainee completed a final round of punches and swipes and finished with a loud battle cry. He stepped back from the dummy, pressed his palms together, and bowed. A round of applause sounded from the doorway with Damian’s familiar chuckle a pleasant echo.
His mentor leaned against the wall, smiling widely. “You’re getting better—much better. I’m happy about this. Maybe now you’ll actually hit a demon when you swing at it.”
Max faked a laugh as he took a swig of water. “Astaroth is trying to prepare me.”
“Well, speaking of that, the Secretary called. We gotta get on the road. She pretty much threatened my life if we miss the flight.”
Max laughed. “Well, I guess I better get on it then. I don’t want to be killed by your weird robot stalker.”
Damian nodded. “Exactly. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Max gathered his things and headed to the guest bathroom. He hurried through a hot shower and dressed quickly, and it took only a few minutes to throw what he needed into his duffle bag and click the light off. In the garage, he was surprised to find that Damian had already packed the SUV with whatever they were taking. Max tossed his bag in the back and jumped inside.
He smirked. “You managed to pack the car on your own. Are you all right? Didn’t stroke out?”
The older man chuckled. “Okay, wiseass. Sit back. Time to party.”
Both men passed out within the first fifteen minutes of the flight. Damian had somehow managed to get them upgraded to first class, so Max had more than enough room to stretch out comfortably. He rested his head against the window and listened to the engines purring softly. His companion drooled on the edge of an inflatable neck pillow.
By the time they reached Scotland, both had gotten a short rest. They grabbed their carry-ons and headed to baggage claim. Damian pointed at the carousel. “Don’t let any of our luggage get picked up inadvertently. There are very fragile things there. I got lucky with a special concession on this flight thanks to Katie, and they allowed me to check everything we need.”
Max nodded, hurried to the luggage area, and retrieved the black duffels as they circled on the belt. Damian wandered toward the door, unsure of the next step. His phone buzzed with a message from the Secretary.
SUV out front. Address loaded in GPS. Don’t forget the Wise Men’s instructions.
The priest growled and shoved his phone into his pocket, slung his bag over his shoulder, and exited through the sliding doors. A blacked-out SUV waited at the curb. The driver’s door opened, and a man in a dark suit and sunglasses emerged and handed the keys to Damian. Without a word, he turned and walked to a cab.
Max rushed out, pushing a loaded luggage cart. “Is that ours?”
Damian nodded. “Load everything in, my friend.”
The trainee rolled his eyes and pushed the cart to the back. He lifted the bags quickly into the back and shut the door while Damian slid behind the wheel and glanced around for the GPS’ on-switch. The system booted, and the address and directions popped up.
Max slid into the passenger seat and raised a brow. “They sure did think of everything.”
Damian scoffed. “Yeah, except the details of what we’ll walk into. We have nothing, so we should make an interesting entrance into a fight that the mercs started hours ago.”
The younger man shrugged. “Maybe they will have finished the whole thing by the time we get there. We can sit around and enjoy Scotland for a hot minute before rushing back.”
“Please, like the Wise Men would let that happen. You know they would sacrifice their own souls to see us do our jobs.”
Max chuckled and relaxed as they drove to the incursion. It wasn’t far, but rather than head for the city, they turned toward the country. When they arrived at the old farmhouse, they found the mercs already there. Demons raced everywhere, and gunfire plowed across the landscape. Things seemed completely out of hand as the beasts crawled up the house or were shot point blank in the fields.
Max exited the SUV with wide eyes and stared at the chaos in silence. Damian grabbed his arm, and the two loaded up with pistols, knives, their crosses, and their bibles. The older man caught and held his companion’s attention. “I know it seems wild right now, but take a deep breath, okay? You’ll get into the swing of it really fast, and I’ll be right there with you.”
The trainee nodded nervously. They crossed the field to where the mercs had gathered to reload and for water and medical attention. Damian elbowed Max lightly and nodded toward the group. “Let me do the talking, okay?”
One of the men inserted a new magazine in his pistol and looked up, recognizing Damian. He immediately jogged out to meet them. The priest put his hand out and shook the merc’s hand. “I’m Damian, and this is Max. We’re here for the exorcisms, and to help where we can.”
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The man nodded with a smile, squinting into the sunlight. “Yeah, man. I remember you. You were on Korbin’s Killers for, like, ever.”
Damian smiled. “That’s right, I was. You look familiar too.”
“I’m Charlie. I was on a New York team, and you and I fought a few battles together late in the merc season. It was when Katie was on your team but not yet the badass angel-demon she is now.”
“Right. Yeah. Was that the fight where we took down that one-eyed bastard trying to pull a King Kong on the Statue of Liberty?”
Charlie howled and nodded. “Yes! That was one of them. You did the backflip off Lady Liberty’s spikes and jammed your knife into that fucker’s back. It was awesome. Good stuff.”
Damian pointed to Max. “Max is my partner but is also in training. This will be his first all-out incursion. He should be with or near me the entire time.”
Charlie shook the young man’s hand. “Good to meet you, buddy. Just pay attention and watch for the fallers—the ones that jump from the ceiling. Other than that, do your thing and try to have fun. Worry and fear will only slow you down and make it more dangerous. If you need protection, the team has vests. Grab one. They’ll recognize the priest getup.”
“We’re not here to fight so much as we were sent by the church to exorcise as many Damned as possible. Obviously not mercs, but any others we can save.”
Charlie nodded. “Got it. Okay. Let me get on my comm.”
He pressed the comm button on his ear and spoke quickly. “Team, we have two priests here, both Damned. One is ex-merc, the other a newbie. They’re here to exorcise as many infected as they can. Help them out by either throwing them the infected or killing the demons to clear a path. We’ll have to work together today. Kick ass, guys.”