Apostle: A Supernatural Action Adventure Opera (Damian’s Chronicles Book 3)

by Michael Todd

Damian paused at the stairs and glanced at the door. To be honest with you, I don’t know whether this is the right thing or not. I could have set myself and him up for failure, but the thought of fighting these assholes and worrying about him at the same time is more terrifying. That distraction will get me a talon in my chest.

  Or one in his, she added.

  I couldn’t bear the idea that I was the one to get him killed. If he dies, it’ll be once he’s fully prepared. He will be a master of his craft, and the decision to go down will be on him, not me.

  Ravi was surprised and proud. Well, just so you know, if you got killed protecting him, the kid would never survive it. He’s tough, but not tough like that. I can tell. You made the right choice.

  Hearing a sudden sound from the room beside him, Damian kicked the door open and raised his gun. A young girl with glowing red eyes climbed the wall in the corner and hissed. He blinked several times, the tune from the amusement park haunting him. Thrusting the memory aside, he raised his hand and repeated the prayer. He lunged forward as the girl dropped from the wall, caught her, and laid her down on the floor as the demon rose and flashed out of existence. She was still alive.

  Damian closed the door and shook his head to clear his mind. Ravi harrumphed as they reached the stairs. You know what I think will be hilarious?

  He welcomed the distraction from his memories. What?

  She laughed. How absolutely livid he will be when he escapes that funky closet. I can already see him sitting in there fuming and plotting your demise.

  Damian chuckled as he readied his weapons. Better pissed than dead, in my opinion.

  Gunfire from one of the merc’s automatic weapons sprayed the walls in the entrance to the house. Damian stood side by side with two fighters, and they systematically eliminated as many demons as they could. One snatched a Damned off the wall and slammed her to the floor. “Priest, I got one for you.”

  Damian raced over and whispered the exorcism while the merc held her down. She writhed and thrashed as the demon rose slowly from her body. As it erupted, Damian nodded to the woman fighter. “Thank you.”

  She dusted her hands off. “No problem. I find what you do admirable. I’m only sorry this is so chaotic that you can’t help more of them.”

  Damian blasted a demon that lunged toward them. “Unfortunately, that is the name of the game in this business. I do what I can, and hope it is good enough for the church and for God.”

  The woman smiled and drew two short swords from her back. “That’s all you can do.”

  She ran out the door, the other merc on her heels. Damian killed the last few demons inside and headed to the field out front to help where he could. Demons surged everywhere. They ran through the fields and pounced on mercs, mindlessly focused on the kill. Damian was standing on the porch trying to decide where he was needed when he heard Charlie call his name.

  Across the field, the fighter held someone down in the long grasses. “Over here!”

  He raced toward the merc and stopped when he saw the infected. Her skin was peeling, and her eyes were bright red. One glance was enough to know she couldn’t be saved and he sighed and shook his head.

  Charlie shot her once in the skull, killing her instantly. “Well, it was worth a shot. I haven’t seen many infected that weren’t completely taken over.”

  “It seems to be more like that every day, but I do what I can.”

  The fighter suddenly shoved Damian to the ground. The bewildered priest saw a demon leap forward and tackle Charlie, and they rolled in a tangle of limbs. The man winced as a claw raked his shoulder. Damian scrambled to his feet and ran to grab the fiend by the head and haul it off. He snatched the knife from his belt and thrust it hard, turning the aggressor to dust.

  Panting, he turned to help Charlie to his feet. The fighter grimaced and rubbed his bleeding shoulder. “I’ll be glad when this fucking day is over.”

  The field now seemed less overrun than before. “We’re close. Come on, let’s finish this shit on a high note.”

  They ran through the field as a unit, blasting demons right and left. Every so often they would find a Damned, but only one could be saved. Damian felt a rush of adrenaline, something he hadn’t experienced since he’d left the Killers. While happy with his choice to rejoin the church, he couldn’t deny it also felt good to be part of a team. Kicking ass and taking names was his past, but at that moment, as he slammed demons to the ground in the Scottish countryside, he felt more alive than ever.

  Astaroth chuckled. Look at it this way. Instead of dying from a demon wound, you’ll die from asbestos poisoning—a slow and painful goodbye.

  Max had pulled his knees to his chest, and his chin rested on top. That’s why I have you—to heal me of deadly diseases. I’ll keep going until someone has to walk behind me and pick up my limbs.

  The demon scoffed. Oh, no. If I’m stuck in here, I’ll enjoy your death. We demons like pain and suffering.

  Thanks. Anyway, what does it matter? I’m stuck in a hall closet during a huge incursion.

  Look, Damian took a big risk protecting you like this. I’m sure his bosses—those three lost Backstreet Boys—will not be happy about this. Take it as a lesson, and be happy that you don’t have to lose an arm or something. Those demons were well-trained.

  Max rolled his eyes. That’s exactly why I should be out there. If I can kick ass here, I can handle anything. I can get into the thick of it when we have a call.

  Astaroth didn’t understand his irritation. Like standing in the center of a cemetery as a ghost tries to smash you with a casket isn’t “the thick of it?”

  That was nothing compared to demons. I just… Max paused and lifted his head to listen to a demon snarling outside. Three gunshots rang out, and everything went silent. He put his chin down and continued, I hate being treated like a baby. I’ll start cussing and drinking all the time. I’ll figure out a way to say entire sentences using nothing but cuss words.

  Astaroth chuckled. That sounds fun. You’ll come off as a complete moron. Nice. I’m sure that’s the way to get respect.

  Max groaned. Doesn’t matter. I’m stuck in here for eternity. Fuck a sack of cock and balls on a shitty-ass Tuesday morning. See, I can do it.

  Astaroth grimaced. That sounds like a terrible time.

  Damian slammed a demon to the ground and sliced through its neck with his knife. The fiend turned to dust, and the priest straightened to look around. They had killed or exorcised every last threat there. He relaxed his shoulders, cleaned his knife, and sheathed it.

  Charlie approached and clapped his approval. “That was some mighty fine slaying, Damian. You haven’t lost your touch.”

  He laughed. “I wish that were true. You guys did a great job.”

  The fighter tilted his head with open curiosity. “Why are you doing this instead of raising hell with Katie in New York?”

  “I have a new job. I do what I can to exorcise demons for the church.”

  Charlie shook his head and holstered his pistol. “Personally, I think it’s a waste of your talent. To each his own, though. If you ever change your mind, give me a call. We can use all the good fighters we can get.”

  He handed Damian a card and turned to join his team, and the priest smiled. The battle had definitely been a blast, but it wasn’t something he could do again. Things were different now. He crumpled the card and dropped it on the ground. As much as he was set in his current lifestyle, that card would be way too tempting.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Damian dragged his feet and rolled his arm to ease the shoulder joint. He opened the side door of the SUV and smiled as he put his gear away, thinking about old times in Vegas. There were good and bad memories for him. He zipped his duffel bag as the phone rang in his pocket. His first impulse was to ignore it and he hesitated for a moment, knowing it was the Secretary. After two more rings, he grumbled and rolled his eyes.

  “Talk about a killjoy.”

  He pressed the
Answer button, but before he could speak she yelled, “Damian! Damian, I don’t know what to do with you anymore. We send you on a mission with explicit instructions, and you do whatever the hell you want. What was that today? Did you forget that you were no longer a mercenary? Did you forget the vows you took to the church? You aren’t a merc anymore, and you need to remember that.”

  He groaned and turned to lean against the open door. She continued without giving him a chance to respond. “And what do you think the Wise Men will say about this? Do you think they’ll stand back and allow you to break the rules over and over? I was shocked that they came to you with this after the hell you’ve wreaked with the other missions.”

  Damian sighed and shrugged. “They knew who I was when they asked me to join the team. I do things in the safest possible way and with the highest probability for survival. How do you think I’ve stayed alive all these years? It definitely wasn’t luck, that’s for damn sure. Look, you’d think that by now you would be used to the way I do things. Either way, the mission is complete. It’s over and done with. Why does it matter how I get to that point? I saved everyone I could exorcise safely. Most of them were too far gone for me to even attempt it.”

  The Secretary scoffed. “I’m not sure how you know that, given the amount of ammo you unloaded on the demons.”

  He got defensive. “Look, warden, I won’t be killed trying to exorcise when I know there’s a minuscule chance it would work. It’s about safety in these situations. They want me to live another day to continue the work, but at the same time, do stupid things that get people killed. No. I’ll do it my way.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Damian, I understand that you know far better than me or even the Wise Men what it’s like out there, but you have to follow the rules. They are there for a purpose, not simply to piss you off. As far as weapons go, I see why they are necessary. I do. That’s half the reason the Wise Men haven’t found out about the other times you’ve used them. This, though, will be virtually impossible to hide. They will want to see the footage, and you’ve put me in a very tough position.”

  Both lapsed into silence for a moment. Damian tried to calm himself, knowing that it was the Secretary’s job to say those things. He opened his mouth to apologize for jumping down her throat, but she cut him off. “Damian?”

  Damian smiled. “Yes, God?”

  “I’m serious. Where the hell is Max?”

  He jumped to his feet. “Holy shit. Uh, gotta go. Talk to you later.”

  The priest threw the phone onto the seat and raced toward the house. He waved at the mercs, who watched him with confused looks. Damian shook his head, breathing heavily as he jumped over an exorcised Damned in his path. I can’t fucking believe I forgot I locked Max in the closet.

  Ravi laughed hysterically, barely able to get her words out. Oh…oh…this is fucking priceless. The priest was so worried about poor Max that he forgot him in the damn closet. Oh, boy. I can’t… This is like the best thing that has ever happened.

  Damian snarled as he took the porch steps two at a time. Seriously, I’m an asshole. Like, I won’t be upset if Max punches me square in the nose. Okay, maybe I’ll be upset, but it will be completely justified.

  The demon snorted in an effort to regain control. That’s the kind of shit that deserves a nut-punch. No kidding. Right in the nuts.

  He sneered as he started up the steps, slowing his speed. You sound like Pandora. What is it with demons and nut-punches?

  Ravi snickered. We don’t play by the rules.

  Damian reached the closet door and took a deep breath, straightened his jacket, and wiped the panic from his face. He clicked the lock and swung the door open with a smile. Max lifted his chin from his knees, his lips in a disapproving line. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word.

  His mentor scratched his head and gestured over his shoulder. “Sorry, dude. I wanted to make sure there weren’t any more demons lurking in the shadows. It wouldn’t make much sense to pull you out only to get in a fight.”

  He grunted as he pulled Max to his feet and stepped back far enough that if the trainee swung, he could dodge it. Max dusted his pants off and stepped out, squinting at the light. He looked down the hall and then at the older man.

  Damian chuckled nervously. “You do okay in there? It was a hell of a fight. Sorry it took so long to get you out. Better safe than sorry, though.”

  Max shoved his companion’s chest hard. “It’s actually funny.”

  “What is?”

  “Oh, just that fifteen or twenty minutes ago, one of the mercs stood outside the closet talking to someone. Do you know what they said?”

  Damian frowned. “No, what?”

  Max looked down the hall and fixed his mentor with a hard look. “Just that they had gotten every last demon and you had been a real asset.”

  He stuttered the beginnings of a response, but Max rolled his eyes and held his hands up. “I can’t believe you forgot me. You left me in a dank old closet where I’m sure at least a dozen mice had met their Maker. There were spiders in there that I don’t think have ever been cataloged, not to mention that it smelled like a mixture of dog shit and one of Rose’s lethal pies.”

  Damian sighed and shrugged. “I’m sorry. But hey, the Secretary had your back the whole time. In fact, she called to ask where you were.”

  Max glared at him. “Mmm. More like she called to reprimand you for not doing your job and then noticed that I was nowhere around.”

  He slapped the young man on the shoulder. “At least she noticed, right?”

  Max sighed and shook his head. “I don’t even know who the hell the Secretary is, but tell her thanks. Who knows how long it would have taken you to realize I wasn’t around? I might have been in there for days.”

  Damian scoffed. “Nah, I would have noticed when it was time to load and you weren’t there for the heavy lifting.”

  Max narrowed his eyes. “Great, I’m a fucking workhorse.”

  His mentor laughed loudly, gave him a thumbs-up, and swiped a cobweb from his shoulder. “Language!”

  Max shook his head and hurried after him. “No. Uh-uh. No way. If you forget me in the closet of a rundown farmhouse, I get to say a few bad words here and there. This is not something you can walk away from.”

  He stopped at the bottom of the stairs as Damian walked outside whistling. Exasperated, he threw his arms in the air and groaned.

  Damian looked at the ceiling when he heard a weight hit the floor. Ravi giggled. What was that? Did he miss the dummy again with his hopeless kicks?

  The priest shook his head and sipped his whiskey. Who knows? But I won’t complain. He has put in double time, training with his demon. He needs it, too. I can only lock him in so many closets before the Wise Men catch on.

  She laughed. Maybe next time you could lock him in a bathroom or something. At least then he can pace the floor angrily instead of sitting in the dark and dust.

  Better yet, I’ll put a cage in the back of the SUV and trick him into it with books about tourism. When he goes inside, bang—the doors come down.

  Ravi cleared her throat. You do know your partner is a human, right? You can’t lock him in a cage.

  Damian scoffed. I do what I want. Besides, one day he will thank me for it. He will be alive and breathing.

  She snickered under her breath. Yeah, like that will ever happen.

  The priest opened the cardinal’s journal to the next entry. This was his downtime, and he was determined to put the clues together. He settled in near the fire and began to read.

  November 15, 1965

  Everything has gone downhill since All Hallows Eve. What I did that night for survival will haunt my mind for eternity. This is one of the few moments I feel safe writing this in my journal. The demon from that night seems to have gone back to where he came from. I suppose I did one of the many favors that I owe. Nonetheless, I hope not to run into his kind again.

  His bright red eyes and snarling ja
ws will give me nightmares for eternity. The demon he was looking for could not be found, but no matter. He took someone else. I received my first medallion, a trade for a tiny piece of my soul when the time comes. I will guard it with my life.

  The church has no suspicion of my involvement in anything, and I must keep it that way. One whisper and I will have failed them and the demon. I’m not really sure which will be worse. The bells are ringing for supper at the chapel, and hopefully, sleep will finally find me tonight. God knows, I never know when the next task will come.

  Until next time.

  Damian closed the journal and rested his chin in his hand. This entry was shorter, and it left more questions than answers. He began to see that this mystery would take a very long time to solve, but he vowed to push forward. The most powerful religious organization in the world was involved, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

  Ravi was silent for a moment and then spoke carefully. Look, I know you’re the priest of all trades. I know that Sherlock Holmes secretly lives inside you, but I think you’re being reckless. I personally believe you should leave this whole thing alone.

  Damian tilted his head thoughtfully. I don’t understand. I thought you believed, as I do, that this is important. Besides, I cannot walk away now.

  She exhaled sharply. Remember what that ghost said? “He shall find you, and when he does, all of the fallen will gather at your doorstep.” Then boom, he exploded.

  He set the book on the table. Yes, I remember. Do you know what that might mean?

  Her cough was obviously fake. Uh, no, I have no idea. But it sounded ominous, and I think you should put more stock in it than you do. This isn’t a game, Damian. You can’t ignore things because you want to.

  Damian raised an eyebrow, sure she knew more. You know what, Ravi? One of these days, you’ll realize that I’m not only your vessel, but I’m also your only ally. You will stop hiding behind your secrets. I will not judge you because you have a past, but I will blame you if those secrets get in the way of solving this or any other mystery that could save lives. There is no sense in hiding from the truth.