Inner Demons

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Inner Demons Page 7

by A. C. Nicholls


  “Me? Oh, I came to pay a visit.” Bentley raised a finger to a grave in the nearest row, where fresh flowers had been placed in a vase. On the old, weather-worn headstone was the name: Elizabeth Smith. “My wife.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why the hell are you sorry? Not your fault she died, is it?” Bentley took a flask from inside his jacket, unscrewed it and took a sip. He then held it out to me, and I shook my hand dismissively before he screwed the lid back on and returned it to his jacket. “Poor thing died giving birth to our one and only daughter. Doesn’t happen much these days, what with modern medicine and all that. But at least our girl grew up to make it worth the sacrifice. She’s going to Harvard next month.”

  “A smart girl, then.”

  “Yup.”

  The man’s story seemed genuine enough, but something still tugged at my mind – something that seemed a little less than ordinary. “May I ask, why choose the middle of the night to visit her?”

  “Something weird about cemeteries in the day, right? Feels a bit like a museum, the way people walk around looking at the graves. They read the names like they’re the artists’ names beneath paintings, pretending it means something to ‘em before carrying on with their lives. It’s bullshit, and I can do without the hassle. Now this…” Bentley raised his hands to point out our surroundings. “This is peace.”

  “I guess so.”

  I knew a demon couldn’t think like that – it was all death and torture to them. Matters of the heart eluded them, and as little as I knew about this Bentley guy, I knew for sure that he understood the human condition. At least I was safe with him.

  As the conversation slowly began to die, a cold wind picked up and carried across the open land. My hair blew out behind me in a long, dark trail. I wrapped my arms around my torso and glanced around at the grounds. There was a collection of trees over to my left, and far up on the hill was a small building with dim lights glowing from inside.

  “What’s up there?” I asked.

  Bentley craned his neck, following my line of sight. “That? Oh, that’s the chapel. Nobody ever uses it, though. Storm took off the roof a few years back, and they never got the funding to rebuild. Damn shame, really.”

  “And the lights?”

  “The groundskeeper making it look less like a junkyard, I s’pose.”

  “Right.” I nodded slowly, staring at the chapel. If Jack was really here, I was willing to bet he would be up there. I rose from the bench and shook Bentley’s hand once more. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  “Yup. You too,” he said, dropping his hand back to his lap. “And be careful up there – you never know what’s lurking about.”

  What a weird thing to say.

  I disregarded it and hurried up the hill, fighting against the breeze as the cold nibbled at my cheeks. It didn’t bother me as much as it used to – being immortal made things like this easier – but it was still damn harsh. It wasn’t until I reached the open chapel doors that I began to feel warm again, and I hustled inside.

  The interior was scrubby, but at least it looked stable. A tree branch had torn through the roof and the broken roof tiles that had fallen inside still lay in a crumbled heap below the gaping hole. The pews lined up perfectly, and on either side of the room the soft glow of candles flickered, casting their subtle light across the entirety of each wall. I stepped further in, watching my surroundings as I got closer to the back. A shiver traveled up my spine. Something was off.

  The entrance doors slammed shut. A small gasp escaped my mouth as I spun on my heel, facing them. Bentley stood in front of the doors, his arms spread wide and a devilish grin playing on his lips. Only it wasn’t the same Bentley I’d spoken to moments ago – his kind appearance had been replaced with something maniacal, which only deepened as his eyes began to glow a deep red.

  “Welcome to my home, Cardkeeper,” he said, but now his voice was deep and snarling, like the Devil himself had come out to play with his food. It was the stuff nightmares were made of, and I didn’t doubt it would haunt my dreams for a long while. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  My heart pounded as I stood gawking at the man, frozen. It was like my feet were locked in place, keeping me grounded and unable to make a move. The friendliness Bentley had shown me jumbled my thoughts, since he’d eased my sense of comfort before sweeping the rug out from under me. God only knew who I was looking at now.

  “Open the doors,” I said, keeping my tone firm. Although I wasn’t ready to leave just yet, I wanted this guy to know that he had one chance to renege on his threatening nature. Leaving me with an exit was just a bonus.

  “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Sure. I’d like it even more if you showed me where Jack Hannigan is.”

  Bentley’s evil grin widened, and as his eyes beamed a bright red, the color of his skin began to change. Inch by inch, his pale, wrinkled skin became burgundy and thick. The clothes burned off his body, turning to flakes of black ash before fully disintegrating and vanishing from sight. The man’s horns sprouted from his thick skull, and the wings – wide and fleshy – spread out from either side of his back. Before I knew it, the demon’s magic glamor had broken, and I faced a hideous beast with the body of a bat and the head of a Minotaur.

  “Hmm, Jack Hannigan…” Bentley said. His voice echoed around the confined walls of the church, the deep fury of each mocking syllable driving fear straight into my heart. “Oh, you want the boy, do you?”

  I took a slow, steady step backward, keeping my eyes fixed on my enemy. Feeling warmth ease up my leg, I felt the magicard come to life inside my pocket. That same warmth spread through my hips, my chest, and then slid down my arms before nesting in my palms, its deadly force at the ready. I just needed to find jack first.

  “Listen,” I said, glancing around at the objects in the room. With telekinesis equipped, only the items lying nearby were my arsenal. As my eyes rolled over the pews and statues around the room, I exhaled in relief. “All I want is my friend back. I don’t know why you took him or what you plan to do with him, but if you hand him over and let us go, I promise that no harm will come to you.”

  The demon knocked his head back then, letting cruel, mocking laughter erupt from his disgusting mouth. Tears of genuine hysterics leaked from his huge, bug-like eyes, and he swept them away with his demon claw. “No harm will come to me? How brave of you, Keira Poe. I wonder if Jack Hannigan will be so courageous.”

  With the snap of his long, red fingers, two more demons – similar in appearance, only smaller and more like insects – dropped in through the hole of the roof. Their very presence alone would have been enough to knock the wind out of me, but when I saw what they held between them, bound and gagged, I couldn’t contain myself.

  “Jack!”

  “Watch yourself, Cardkeeper.” Bentley, clearly the alpha demon among this crew, stomped forward five paces, his hooves coming to an abrupt halt when I shot him a look that said: One more step and you’ll all die. He then returned his horrendous glare to his underlings, who heaved Jack toward me violently.

  I caught him quickly, struggling with his weight before removing his binding. As I tore the duct tape from his mouth, he let out a sound of sharp pain and apologized for having been captured.

  “It’s okay,” I told him, using my nails to rip the rope off his hands. “Just get ready for a fight.”

  “I don’t have a weapon,” he said.

  “Improvise.”

  The demon stomped forward another step, breaking the comfort of our reunion. “You want him, you can have him,” he said, grinning with elongated yellow teeth. “But you know the demon code; if you want to leave here alive, you must defeat us all in combat.” He spread out his claws, sharp like knives. “Good luck…”

  I used the element of surprise to my advantage. The moment the demon uttered his last word, I swung my left arm around and shot a blast of energ
y at the two smaller demons. That would give Jack a chance to find his footing and figure out a plan. Meanwhile, with my right hand dragging a pew across the chapel, I leaped toward Bentley and swung my left fist in a hook toward his jaw. The shock showed in his eyes, but knowing the strength that glamor demons had, it wouldn’t keep him at bay for long.

  Before I recovered my stance, Bentley turned and shot a bullet of fire from his eyes, blowing the pew into thousands of tiny wooden shards, then he turned to me and leaned back, head-butting me with all the power of a bull.

  The collision sent heat through my skull, clouding my senses and blowing me back. As I fell, I spun my body around and caught sight of Jack, swinging a long metal candlestick holder around and keeping the demons at bay. Stretching out a hand, I used my magic to tear it from his grip and send it shooting toward one of the demons, flinging it onto its back and leaving it wriggling like a woodlouse. A second later, I willed a long, splintered beam from among the roof’s wreckage and carried it through the air to land in Jack’s hands. He grasped it instantly, lunged forward and pierced the demon’s belly with the sharp end, laughing with the joy of brief victory as he did so.

  Bentley stalked me with renewed fervor, his long claws clutching the jacket on my back, lifting me into the air and then hurling me into the nearest wall. My ribs struck the reinforced wood, an explosion of dust blowing off the wall as I hit the floor and wheezed. Bentley stomped back to my side, lifting me again, this time by the throat.

  “I’m a little disappointed,” he said.

  The air seeped from my lungs, my feet dangling below me.

  “I thought you would put up more of a fight.”

  A kaleidoscope of colors floated across my consciousness, my mind leaving the room as I fought for an idea on how the hell I would get out of this. My eyes started to close as I felt blood rush to my face. It was like my head was filling to capacity, bulging and ready to explode at a moment’s notice. I had nothing left to fight with as hopelessness overtook me.

  Until Jack swung a wooden beam at Bentley.

  The demon dropped to his knees, releasing his grasp with me falling beside him. I craned my neck, saw the remaining small demon tackle Jack, and took action immediately. The odds were better now; two on two, but we were still overpowered. These were demons, for God’s sake, and Jack was only human. Still, it didn’t keep me from pushing myself up, taking a running jump and leaping over the demon’s back to kick the heel of my boot into the underling. It made a strange wheezing sound as its ribs audibly cracked, and its limp body soared across the room before landing in a heavy bundle among the rubble.

  “Get out,” I told Jack.

  “But I can help you.”

  “I don’t want your help. I have a plan.”

  “But I–”

  Bentley charged forward, carrying me back across the room, held into the air by his momentum. As I was driven toward the back of the chapel, it was all I could do to use my telekinesis, opening the chapel door and shoving Jack through it, watching him land on his ass outside the building. A second later, my back struck the wall, sending pain vibrating through my spine.

  “You came here to fight a demon,” said Bentley, that demon’s voice shooting terror into my soul, “but for what? A man who would deceive you as easily as he breathes? For a pitiful mortal who has lied to you without remorse?”

  What? What the hell did he say about deceiving me? Whatever his motivation, he could easily be spewing lies to gain an advantage – to mess with my thoughts and feelings, tearing apart this new-found team from the inside. Surprised and confused, I realized then that my mouth hung open.

  “You didn’t know?” Bentley laughed again. It sounded like a truck, chugging and hissing as it kept me pinned down beneath its great weight.

  Truth was, I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I didn’t want to hang around and find out. Whatever lies Jack had told, he could keep to himself for now. If I made it out of here alive I would certainly address it, but in this moment, I had a demon to kill.

  “All I know,” I said, stretching out my arms and aiming my palms toward the beams of the chapel’s roof, “is that you’re going back to hell.” I got only a brief glimpse of his face twisting into confusion before I ripped the beams from the ceiling. Tiles and brick rained down all around us. Some debris struck Bentley’s head, causing him to release me from his grip, and as I saw the weight begin to sag in the middle of the ceiling, I put everything I had – body and mind – into shoving the demon back toward the center of the room.

  The roof collapsed completely then, creating a storm of dust as clay and wood broke and fell. The roof of the chapel showered all around me. With the tiny fragment of energy I had left, I dashed for the opening in the roof that had already been there. My foot landed on a fallen beam and I pushed as hard as I could, escaping the demolition as the walls finally caved in only a second later, swallowing the demons under its weight.

  My body hit the grass outside. I coughed up the dust that had exploded around me, sweeping it off my jacket and struggling to breathe. I glanced back at the chapel – or the pile of rubble where the chapel had been – and thanked the gods of R’hen that I’d survived it.

  I got lucky.

  Just then, I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, helping me stumble to my feet. I twisted my neck to see Jack, smiling and nodding as he helped me up, slinging my arm over his shoulder to keep me held upright. A moment later he carried me across the cemetery, leading me to safety like a hero coming to my rescue. I didn’t want to quiz him just yet – I didn’t want to press. But because of what Bentley had said, I could trust him even less than before. There was something he wasn’t telling me, a great secret that he kept to himself, and I had no idea what it was.

  But I was going to find out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I let Jack into my apartment with only a hint of shame at the size of it. Excuses of being a Keeper and a mage aside, I felt as though I had to explain myself for being a grown woman without my own property. As he entered through the front door and his eyes scanned the only room, a small smile curved his lips before he nodded.

  “It’s nice,” he said.

  “No,” I said. “It’s not. But thanks for saying so.”

  I showed him in and let him shower, washing his clothes while he was in there and fishing out some of Jason’s old rags so he would have something clean to wear while his own clothes dried. Jack took them gratefully, along with the hot cup of coffee I put in front of him, and then we both sat down beside a snoozing Link.

  “Thanks for this,” Jack said, pinching the shirt he wore.

  “It’s not a problem, honestly.”

  “They’re men’s clothes, though. Where did you get them?”

  “From a man, obviously.”

  Jack’s head bobbed up and down as he glanced around the room. When he caught sight of the framed photo of Jason beside the couch, he scooped it up and studied it. “Is this our mystery man? What happened to him? He get fed up?”

  “No.”

  “What then? Was there someone else?”

  “No, I–”

  “Come on, spill the beans. Considering your numerous attributes, it would take a real fool to just get up and leave you.” Jack grinned, which could have been charming if he’d have chosen a different subject matter. “My bet is that there was someone else. Someone with bigger–”

  I lunged out then, swiping the photo from his hands and holding it close to my chest. “Shut up, asshole!”

  Jack raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Jason,” I snapped. “You got that?”

  “Yeah, I got it… Sorry.”

  Casually taking one quick glance at the photo, I got a good look at him, reminding myself of that playful smile, those dark, captivating eyes. Lena the alpha wolf had given me this photo shortly after the funeral. I liked to look at it from time to time as it reminded me of the way he
used to talk, always holding my gaze like there was nothing else in the world he wanted to look at. I missed him.

  Jack finished off his coffee in silence. I watched him lean forward, slide the empty mug onto the coffee table and then stretch his arms upward before slumping back with a wide yawn. I had to confess, I was having trouble trusting him now. I mean, ever since he’d attacked the imps’ lair I’d questioned my faith in him, but after what Bentley had said, how could I even begin to make excuses for him now?

  I cleared my throat.

  “Why have you been lying to me?”

  Turning my way, Jack’s eyes widened. A strong act. “What?”

  “The demon told me that you’ve been lying to me.”

  “He’s a demon, Keira. You gonna trust that?”

  I thought about it, tried to give in to the possibility that the demon really had been trying to turn us against one another. But every time I heard that demon’s voice, coupled with the image of Jack recklessly slaying imps for no good reason, the concept slipped from my grasp. “Yeah, I trust that. Thing is, I know Zorin wanted you alive. That’s why he sent glamor demons to take you back. Otherwise they would have just killed you. So I’ll ask you one more time,” I sat up, staring at him with my most threatening expression, “why did you lie?”

  Jack sighed, shook his head and leaned forward. Clasping his hands together, he lowered his head until he was staring between his legs at the ground. “Fine,” he said. “My sister didn’t die. Zorin didn’t kill her.”

  My heart suddenly began to race, and my blood started to boil. Why could this not be simple? How, of all the people in the city to choose from, had I managed to take a liar under my wing? It was another one of Keira Poe’s great blunders – one for the history books.

  “So then, why do you want to kill him? I’m guessing you still want that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then why the lie?”

  Jack sat back, looking all around the room. Anything to avoid looking into my eyes. “Zorin was holding me captive, all right? I was on a job in Texas one time and I missed my target. Zorin was there in some other capacity and for some reason he thought I would make a good trophy. He took me into his prison and made me a slave.”

 

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