by Sawyer Black
He dragged Frank into the shadows, wrapping the darkness around them like a sleeping bag. Frank’s scream trailed away as they shot through the city, a breath away from the light.
Henry burst out of the dark, pulling Frank into the shadows behind the trees at the edge of the church’s property. He turned Frank around and held his coffee can up to his chin under his lips. “Shhh.”
Frank nodded with wide eyes. He pumped his fists in a shadow boxing dance, stepping back against Henry and grabbed a fistful of shirt in each hand. “That was awesome!” His grin slipped at the sight of Henry’s face.
He followed Henry’s eyes, and they looked through the trees together. The Burg Spires Church of Hope was gone.
A pile of blackened rubble. Weeds around the edges. Old yellow tape fluttering in the breeze.
A fire had burned it to the ground.
“That’s one Hell of a bingo night,” Henry said.
“What is this place?”
Henry blinked his shock away and looked down at Frank. “It’s the church.”
“What church?”
“The Burg Spires Church of Hope.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up, and he took another look. “No way.”
A shadow rose from a pile of ash and shook itself like a dog. Henry squinted at the familiar shape. The way it moved. Small gray wings. A grin split Henry’s face, and he shouted before he could stop himself. “Ezra!”
The goll froze, turning its glowing eyes toward the sound.
Henry clapped a hand over his mouth, and the pointed ears stood straight up. The goll spun, dove back into the rubble, and scurried out of the light.
“What the Hell did you do that for?” Frank whispered.
“I don’t know. I thought I knew him.”
“Yeah, but you don’t just throw your hands up and yell, hey guys, I’m over here!”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? What’s the worst that can happen?”
Frank pointed at the shapes coming out of the darkness. “I guess we can ask them.”
Motherfucker!
A woman with traps so big, it looked like she was wearing a jetpack. A neck as thick as her head. Her pink sports bra doing little to disguise her rippling muscles, her hands ending in glittering nails sharpened to wicked points.
Her boyfriend stepped into the light behind her, so hairy that Henry thought it was a bear walking upright. He wore no shirt, steaming in the cool night air, his Order From Chaos tattoo glistening through his chest hair.
The goll bounced at the bear’s heels. More green than the familiar gray that Ezra had been, and he moved with more spastic energy than the goll who saved Henry’s life.
Henry spread his arms with a nod. “Yeah, that’s not Ezra.”
Frank gave his eyes a dramatic roll. “No shit, Sherlock.”
Sports Bra made wet smooching sounds. “You might as well come on out. We know you’re in there.” Her voice sounded like a ten-year-old girl’s.
Bear tipped his head back, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Silver rings jangled in his cheeks and lips.
Frank put his hand flat on Henry’s chest. “I’ll handle this.”
Before Henry could argue, Frank stepped out of the trees, his sneakers crunching through gravel at the edge of the parking lot. The goll pressed itself against Bear’s calves, leaning out to watch Frank’s approach.
“Hey,” Frank said. “I’m looking for my pastor. Guy named Owen. You seen him?”
Sports Bra reached up and pulled her blonde ponytail over her shoulder, stroking it with glitter covered fingers. “Maybe,” she squeaked. “Who wants to know?” She tossed the ponytail back, and Henry saw the OFC across her throat.
He nodded and crossed his arms, waiting for Frank to handle it.
Frank stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I just need to talk to him. He was the one who married me and my wife. We’re having some problems, you know?”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah,” Bear rumbled behind her. “We’re real sorry.”
“Hey, thanks,” Frank said. “So, is he around?”
“Nope. He’s uptown with the mayor.”
Frank turned at the waist with his hands spread out, looking over his shoulder as if to say, See?
Sports Bra stepped forward and launched a kick into Frank’s testicles that lifted his Chuck Taylors off the ground almost a foot. He came down on his knees with his hands pressed into his crotch. He wheezed out a whining sigh and fell over on his side.
She drew her foot back again, aiming at Frank’s face, and Henry dropped into the night.
He shot across the darkness to rise out of her shadow like the Saturn V rocket. His coffee can hit her chin and her jaw collapsed, splitting apart and popping open like a Diet Coke full of Mentos.
She flew straight up like the rebound of a trampoline, and the rainbow of blood sparkled out in an arcing shower that glittered like rain.
Bear lunged forward with a roar, but Henry dropped to his knees, and the wild slash whistled by without touching him. Henry jumped like he was trying to push the Earth down, slashing up with a roar of his own. Bear’s guts spilled out of the hole where his balls had been, and blood shot from his mouth as he landed flat on his back.
Bear’s eyes rolled back and forth, fixing on Henry’s face as he died. His life energy rose with the steam, and Henry inhaled it. Here was an asshole who truly deserved it, and Henry was only doing his job.
The goll scraped against the ground, watching Henry with wide eyes. He offered his hand as if trying to give a dog his scent. The goll’s hand whipped out, and Henry rocked back in shock. Blood gushed from the gash on the back of his knuckles.
The goll jumped from the ground, his claws outstretched. His mouth open in screeching rage. Henry caught him in midair with his hand over the goll’s mouth. Like a bird flying into a plate glass window. He drove his hand down, and pie-faced Ezra’s evil twin into the asphalt.
Henry jumped back as the goll staggered back to its clawed feet, weaving around in a circle while his wings wilted like flowers in the heat. Henry took a cue from Sports Bra and sent a kick into the goll’s back that sent him tumbling through the air, his wail of pain pulsing as he spun into the shadows. A crash as he hit the charred debris in the center of the burned-out church, and Henry turned to help Frank to his feet.
Frank winced as Henry hauled him up. One hand grabbed at Henry’s shoulder, the other cradled under his balls. “How’d I do?”
“Oh, you handled it.”
“Good.”
Henry made sure Frank was steady before turning to look at Sports Bra lying on the ground, staring up into the dark sky, blood coughing and gurgling out of the ragged hole that had once been the bottom of her face.
“Oh fuck,” Frank said. “She looks like the Predator’s mouth.”
Henry squatted down. Her searching hand grabbed his pant leg, and he swatted it away. He leaned over her so she could see his whole face. A bubbling mist of blood burst into the air with every breath.
“I’m not going to tell you what your cult did to me. What they did to my family. I don’t care if you know or not. I just want to ask you a question.”
Her chest heaved, and her squeaking voice blossomed from the spitting blood. Tears poured from the corners of her eyes. Henry rested his hand on her shoulder. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s okay. One blink for yes. Two for no. Okay?”
She nodded, her eyes opening to their limits. Her heels dragged back and forth like she was trying to slide away. Just slip to the side and disappear.
“Good,” Henry said. “Do you want to die?”
Blink.
Henry didn’t wait for the second one. He swiped his claws across the Order tattoo on her throat, and blood splashed, spreading out from her head in a jet that soaked his pants from the knees down.
Another life taken that truly deserved it, and Henry stood with his eyes closed.
“What are you?” Frank whispered.
Henry turned and wiped his claws on his shirt. “I’m a comedian.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Henry ducked through the window into the living room light.
He got one foot on the floor, and Aela sprang from the couch, running over to give him a hug as he stood to make room for Frank. “You were gone when I woke up.” Her eyes were wide and shining. “Where did you go?”
Imagining himself clean was easier every time he tried it. He was starting to understand how the rest of them kept doing it. “Just stomping around the old haunting ground.”
Frank squeezed by. “Did you know the pastor’s church burned down?”
Boothe stood from leaning on the kitchen counter. The ice in his drink tinkled as he lowered it from his mouth. “Yes. It happened two months ago. On the news, they spoke about the tragedies that have cursed that church, but the mayor has assured the city that he will personally take care of the parish. He’s already had two fundraisers, and they’ve raised more than nine million dollars.”
Henry shook his head. “What church needs that much money?”
Ramiel leaned forward from his seat on a kitchen chair made tiny by his massive frame. “So says the Lord, Heaven is My throne, and the earth is My footstool. What is the house that you would build for Me, and what is the place of My rest?”
Aela nodded. “In whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In Him, you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.”
Frank shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t know what that means.”
Boothe slid his empty glass toward the sink. “It means one must remain humble if he is to please the Lord. It’s just an excuse to keep the good pastor close. As resources or protection, I can’t say.”
Henry slid from Aela’s embrace, crossing the room to the coffee table. “Yeah, me and Frank found a couple of Order stooges patrolling the ashes. They were not humble.”
“What happened?”
Henry dug into the cargo pouch on the outside of his pant leg and pulled out everything he found on the bodies. “Stuff from the dead guys’ pockets.”
Charlie leaned forward for a better look, and Henry noticed his hand had been on Nadia’s thigh. He glanced over at Maria, and she looked at him over the rim of a coffee cup with a smile in her eyes.
Nobody’s safe from her love spells anymore.
“This failed Russian weightlifting experiment and her boyfriend tried to act like tough guys.”
Frank spread his arms like he was measuring the fish of his dreams. “This bitch was huge.”
“Like a vagina with pecs.”
Maria snorted, and coffee bubbled over the edge of her cup.
Frank nodded. “We handled it, though.”
“But before we handled it, she said the pastor was with the mayor.”
Henry swirled his claws through the crap on the coffee table. Two vape pens with massive batteries. One pink. One green. Two giant smartphones, both with cracked screens. A worn wallet made of duct tape. A keyless entry fob to a Mini Cooper, and a yellow prescription bottle of fosfomycin.
One of the phones had a pink slipcase over it. As good a place to start as any. He retracted his claws and collected the phone, turning it over to find any buttons. He felt like an out-of-touch grandpa trying to figure out a terrifying new technology.
The cracked glass flared on, and Henry winced away from the home screen picture. A close-up of Bear’s hairy face, the silver rings shining with the flash.
Henry pressed the messaging icon. Sports Bra’s last text popped up.
OMG! DID U C? PR ON DL AT GYM. 5 ON EACH SIDE!!! TTYL :)
He shook his head and handed the phone to Boothe. “I’d rather listen to you and Maria argue in Spanish.”
Nadia’s eyes were intent on the other phone. “Henry. Look at this. It’s tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
She held the phone out to him and he took it, raising his eyebrows to get a better look at the tiny words. “What is this, an email?”
Hey Jonnie!
We’re sending this message out to let our members know — IT’S BACK!
The Dark Auction has found a new home!
The old Burg City Penitentiary.
As always, refreshments and spectral transport provided by our friends at the Viazo Grand.
Don’t forget your mask, and bring Pattie. She’ll love it!
-Mark@ofc
P.S. Show them this code at the door.
Henry scrolled down and almost dropped the phone when the Order From Chaos symbol filled the screen. It seemed to crawl as if the pixels were alive. He pressed the buttons on the side of the phone until the evil disappeared. He took a calming breath and met Nadia’s eyes.
She sat with her back like a rod, arms crossed under her breasts. She shook her head, and her jaw bunched. “Henry …”
“I know.”
Boothe held his hand out. “What is it?”
Henry handed him the phone and looked at Ramiel, his head tipped in appraisal.
Ramiel’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“You’d look good as a bear.” Henry turned back to Nadia. “Does Mandy’s Export Emporium carry masks for costume parties? Of the animal variety?”
She nodded. “Of course. We have everything for the discerning orgy lover.”
Frank held up his hand. “Wait, what?”
Ramiel drove to his feet, and his eyes filled with swirling light. “Am I to understand this is … an event similar to how we met?”
Henry found the angel’s blazing gaze and nodded. “I think so, yeah.”
Ramiel growled, and the sound set off a primal response deep in Henry’s chest. His shoulders heaved, and a growl of his own rose in his throat.
“Wait a minute,” Frank said. “What are we talking about?”
Nadia lit a cigarette with shaking hands. “It’s an auction where they sell children.”
Maria stretched her hand, her eyes wide with horror. “Walden?”
Boothe took her hand and set the phone back on the table. “It ends in sexual sacrifice.”
Frank stepped back and lifted his hands as if snatching them from scalding water. “Of the kids?”
“That’s why I was locked up,” Charlie said.
Nadia drew away with a gasp.
Charlie held his hands up. “Not because of that, gimme some fucking credit, okay? No, I ratted out this guy who was smuggling fairy dust over from the UK. Some Order From Chaos bullshit, but I ain’t down for that. And I ain’t that kind of demon.”
“Was it Frenchy?” Henry asked. "Frenchy Letters?”
Charlie nodded. “Yeah, and they caught me and chained me up next to that whistling prick at the end of the hall.”
“Francesco told me that fairy dust is only used on children. That must be how they keep ’em quiet. They looked like fucking zombies.”
Aela clasped her hands in front of her. “If you know where and when it is, you can’t let it happen again, can you?”
Boothe pulled Maria to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Of course not.”
Henry drew a calming breath. “It might be a good way to stick it to the Order while they’re busy in Solitude.”
“Yeah,” Frank agreed. “Split their attention. We just need a plan.”
“Don’t worry about that. I already have one.”
“You do?”
“Yup. Ramiel’s gonna dress as Jonnie Bear, then off to the Viazo Grand with a date, ready for action.”
“I see,” Boothe said. “And the rest of us?”
“We’ll meet him at the prison.”
Frank shook his head. “No way. That place is on an island. They patrol those waters like it’s Vietnam. Between the cops and who knows whatever else they got there, what? We’re just gonna walk right in?”
“Maybe. You’re a shapeshifter. Why not become someone in the group?
”
“I can change my shape, but not my voice to match.”
“What about me? Can I change into anyone or just this douche I’ve been?”
Nadia shook her head. “Frank’s the only one who can become anyone.”
“Almost anyone. We need to get a good look at them,” Frank corrected.
She continued, “But we’re kind of limited.”
Henry said, “I need to talk to a guy I know.”
Frank asked, “Fine, but what about Remmy’s date?”
“Oh, I think you can manage.”
Frank’s jaw fell open. “Me?”
“You did get a pretty good look at her when she was kicking your ass.”
“The mutant vagina?”
“Yeah.”
Frank’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water. “Yeah, but …”
“And don’t you have some other forms you can shift into? Like ones with claws?”
Frank tipped his head to the side and shrugged. “Yeah, but …”
“Better decide quick. Tomorrow’s only a couple hours away.”
Frank’s shoulders fell, and he nodded in defeat. “Okay.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Of course, I’ll do it. Only because of the children.”
“Good enough.” Henry turned to Boothe with a smile.
Boothe sighed. “What is it, Henry.”
“Nothing, I’m just gonna need your help convincing a guy I know to maybe help us.”
“And that guy is?”
“A guy named Mike Stone.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What are we doing?” Henry asked.
Boothe reached up and smoothed the jacket on Henry’s shoulders. Straightened his tie. “We must look the part.”
“Yeah, but if you can just look like whatever you want, why have a closet full of suits?”
“It’s the same as traveling. I have to have been there, or I can’t teleport to it. Unless I am given the memory, I can’t go somewhere if I don’t know where it is.” He stepped back and straightened his own tie with a smile. “I must have seen myself in this suit in order for others to see me in it.”
He stepped out of the way, and Henry looked into the mirror at Mike Serafino. It was jarring. Henry almost shifted back to the demon, but he held the image of his alternate form and saw himself nod.