Midnight Rider

by D V Wolfe

  Stacks shook his head. “Nope. Elixirs aren’t exactly my thing. I usually go to Rosetta if I’m desperate enough to need one.”

  Rosetta snorted. “As I recall, the last elixir you had me make for you was for a rash you got from those two prosti-”

  “Ok,” I interrupted. “We’ll have to figure out where we can pick up the stuff you’ll need for the elixir, Tags.”

  Tags shrugged. “Well my place is only a couple of hours out of the way and I have a pretty good set up there and a full stock of this stuff.” He turned to Rosetta. “That is, if you don’t mind accompanying me, Miss Rosetta. I’d sure be honored to have your help.”

  “Sinclair, get your lips off my ass.,” Rosetta huffed. “I’ll come along, but I’m driving.”

  “Gotta love a fiery woman,” Tags said leaning back in his chair and studying the text in front of him.

  “Well if you two have the God’s tears figured out, we just need to nail down this “Gift of the Peacemaker” shit and we’ll be golden,” I said.

  Rosetta was studying her Bible again. Without looking up she said, “Stacks give me that next part of the translation about the gift.”

  Stacks read, “This gift, given by the Queen to the Peacemaker on the occasion of friendship...”

  “Here it is,” Rosetta interrupted him. “Way back in Kings, ‘when the queen of Sheba heard about the fame of Solomon and his relationship to the Lord, she came to test Solomon with hard questions. Arriving at Jerusalem with a great caravan with camels carrying spices…’”

  “The queen of Sheba?” I asked. “I thought that was just one of those sayings for when somebody is being a pain in the ass, you know, ‘Who do you think you are, the queen of Sheba?’”

  Rosetta rolled her eyes. “Bane, Sheba is modern-day Ethiopia. The queen of Ethiopia visited Solomon.”

  “And brought spices,” Noah said. It was the first thing he’d said in a while and his voice squeaked as he leaned forward.

  “Are we even for sure that this monk is talking about Solomon? I mean, why would he call this guy ‘the peacemaker’ if he could just spell out his name?” I asked.

  “He might have been using code so word wouldn’t get around to everyone saying ‘hey y'all this is how you gank demons’. Demons were around then too, you know,” Tags said.

  Stacks was rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. “And my translation might not be perfect. The word used is pretty close to his name. I just didn’t think of it.”

  “That’s because you only ever set foot in a church to chase skirts,” Rosetta spat.

  “Passing over Stacks’ skirt-chasing,” I said. “Is there any way to be sure he really means Solomon? I don’t want to poke a demon with a stick doused in assumptions and then watch him tear me limb from limb.”

  Rosetta looked at Stacks. “Any other mention of ‘the peacemaker’?”

  Stacks read, “The Peacemaker born of a Beloved Father and mother of beauty. Something, something, gained or taken by man lust.”

  “Man lust,” I said. “Well that’s helpful.”

  “Lust of man, probably. Stacks’ conjugation is right in line with his house cleaning skills,” Rosetta scoffed.

  “Hey!” Stacks said.

  Rosetta continued, “Anyway, it confirms that it’s Solomon. Bathsheba was his mother and she was lusted after by King David whose name means ‘Beloved’ and she was taken from her husband. Bane, didn’t you say something about Solomon Spice?”

  “Soulman’s Spice,” I said.

  “How sure are you on the pronunciation?” Rosetta asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, I got the intel from Festus. He said the demons all use it as a curse downstairs and let me tell you, they’re pretty pathetic at it.”

  “Is it possible that over the years, the demons just misquoted the name? I mean it’s been five hundred years since the monk who wrote about it died. What if it was supposed to be Solomon’s Spice? I mean the monk stormed into Hell and killed demons with it. I highly doubt there are two separate things called Soulman’s and Solomon’s spices that can kill demons,” Rosetta said. “Just laying it out there.”

  Stacks and I looked at each other. “We’re morons,” I said.

  “Where’s your computer?” Noah asked Stacks.

  “What?” Stacks asked in surprise.

  “Computer.” Noah said, “Yours. Where is it?”

  “I’m guessing my laptop is in the bedroom closet along with everything else Rosetta monkeyed with,” Stacks said.

  Noah was on his feet and moving to the bedroom before anyone could ask him what he was up to. The four of us took turns shrugging and raising an eyebrow at each other as we listened to the closet door slide open, Noah swearing about crap being everywhere and then the sound of typing.

  My phone rang and I got up and, starting towards the bedroom as I flipped it open. “Hello,” I said.

  “Bane!” It was Joel and I felt my face split into a grin. His surfer-dude voice was always such a shock, considering how meticulous he was as a hunter, “Nice one on the barbequed Rawhead. I totally owe you a round the next time we’re both at Pitch’s.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Randy made the rig for me. It was a custom job but now he knows what he’s doing so definitely hook yourself up if you’re going after one of those slimy assholes.”

  “So what are you frying next?” Joel asked. “Or can I meet you to make hotel room pancakes like we did all those months ago.” I rolled my eyes. Joel and I had had a “thing” a little over a year ago. It had ended amicably, but Joel had hinted at it every now and then, not being pushy but always leaving the red carpet unrolled. Fortunately, I didn’t have time for the red carpet anymore. Not with a countdown of only five months remaining.

  I decided to keep the conversation rolling and ignore his comment. “We’re heading to St. Louis. One of Nya’s snitches told her that there’s a demon wanting to mount my head on its wall and things are starting to shape up and point to the demon being in St. Louis. We thought we’d try to meet it head-on. We found some obscure lore we’re looking into. I think we’re going to have to pick up some spice-type items somewhere between Messina and St. Louis.”

  “Well, there are lots of supermarkets,” Joel said.

  “I get the feeling this stuff may be more complicated than a shaker of nutmeg and some cinnamon sticks,” I said on a sigh, half-listening to Noah and Stacks argue about something on the screen while Tags and Rosetta looked disapprovingly into the room.

  “Well, if you go through Peoria, I used to date a girl who works at this fancy spice shop, uh... something Fair,” Joel said. “But Bane, don’t go to St. Louis. It’s a deathwish, girl.”

  “I don’t really have a choice,” I said. “If this demon is coming for me, I better bite him before he has a chance to bite me when I’m on a regular hunt and my back is turned. And I’m on a timer, Joel. Five months and the scoreboard isn’t looking too good right now.” A thought occurred to me. “You haven’t heard anything about how one might go about killing a demon, have you?”

  “No,” Joel said and some of the sunscreen and sea air had evaporated from his voice. “There isn’t a way to do it. You know, I can find you something else to hunt. I’ve got buddies all over the west coast and sometimes Walter misses stuff out there. I think it has something to do with the mountains…” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway,” Joel continued. “Just don’t go to St. Louis, ok? It’s a trap.”

  “Thanks, Joel,” I said. “I’ll be seeing you.” I hung up and slipped the phone back into my pocket. I moved to stand in the doorway next to Rosetta, forcing Tags inside the room to stand next to Stacks. “What do we know?” I asked.

  “Ethiopia is famous for its spice mixes,” Noah read off the screen. “Especially for Berbere which has a main component called Ajwain.”

  “That sounds like it’ll be easy to find,” I said.

  “Hang on, I think I know what that is. Kid, Google that shit,” Rosetta said to Noah. She
had one old lady clawed hand digging into my forearm, right on top of the fresh bruises the Hayman had given me the night before.

  It actually made it easier to focus on the pain instead of laughing when I looked at her and asked, “Google that shit?”

  Rosetta shrugged. “What? You think the internet is just for you youngsters?”

  “I don’t want to hear where this conversation is going,” Stacks mumbled, and then I heard him gasping as if Tags had elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Ajwain is also known as Ajowan, Oomam, Carom, or Bishop’s Weed,” Noah read.

  “Knew it!” Rosetta said and she did a little dance. The four of us turned to watch her. She stopped and looked at us. “It’s a weed.” We didn’t react. “It’s everywhere and a pain in the ass. Pretty easy to find it.”

  “So you have some at your house?” Tags asked.

  Rosetta scowled at him. “Don’t make me get the frying pan. I sure as hell don’t have it. I’m actually good at gardening. But they sell it at all the gardening stores. It's an easy ground cover for anybody who’s too lazy to actually garden.”

  “Learn something new every day,” I said, turning back to the computer screen. “And we’re sure this is the spice? What else is on that list?”

  Noah looked back at the screen and scrolled down. “Um, black pepper, cumin, false cardamom…”

  “Grain of Paradise,” Tags said. “It’s a type of ginger.” We all looked over at him. “I drink it in tea for my…”

  “That sounds promising,” I interrupted.

  “What else?” Rosetta prompted Noah.

  Noah read, “Fenugreek, garlic, nutmeg, mustard seed, chili pepper, rue…”

  “Isn’t rue something you do with butter and flour?” Stacks asked.

  “That’s a rue. This rue…” Noah said, clicking on a link and waiting for the page to load. “Is Ruta graveolens, commonly known as rue, or herb-of-grace.”

  “That also sounds promising,” I said.

  “Anything else on the list jump out at you?” Rosetta asked and Noah clicked back to the list.

  “Turmeric, shallot or red onion and sacred basil.” Noah finished.

  “Sacred basil?” I asked. “Like basil blessed by a priest?”

  Noah followed another link. “Ocimum tenuiflorum, commonly known as holy basil.”

  “And now we have reasonable doubt because we have multiple ‘holy-demon-ass-kicking-sounding’ herbs to choose from. Delightful.” I said, leaning back against the wall. “How the hell are we supposed to figure out which of these is Solomon’s Spice?”

  “Well,” a sixth voice chimed in. “It’s definitely not the garlic.”

  18

  We all turned in the doorway to stare at Festus.

  He was definitely looking the worse for wear. His normally crisp suit was ripped and rumpled and there was a dark stain spreading behind the carefully folded blood-red handkerchief square in his breast pocket. His face looked like he’d been road-hauled over fresh gravel and broken bottles on a seven-mile stretch and one eye was swollen completely shut.

  “Don’t mind me inviting myself in, the door was… well, not open, but I think it can be debated whether it is still a door if half of it is missing.” As he spoke, I could see the blood on his teeth from his swollen lip, tarnishing his gold tooth with the ruby chip.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I asked.

  “As always Bane,” Festus said, removing a black handkerchief from his pants pocket and inserting it over a finger into his left ear. “You have such a way with picking just the right wording.” He twisted the handkerchief-covered finger in his ear and then withdrew it, looking at it in disgust. “Animals,” he spat, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket and looking down at himself. “Mind if I use your...bathroom?” He asked the group at large. Stacks pointed down the hall and Festus left.

  I looked over at Tags who was standing still with his mouth hanging open. Then I realized he was the only one that hadn’t seen Festus before.

  “Where did he come from?” Tags asked, staring after him and then looking back to the living room. He looked back at me, “Who is he?”

  “My accountant,” I said.

  The connection clicked in Tags’ head and I saw understanding spread across his face. Gary must have mentioned Festus popping up from time to time.

  “He’s shorter than I imagined,” Tags said.

  “You should lead with that when he gets back,” I said, squatting down next to Noah. “It’s a great conversation starter.” I tugged a girly magazine from the stack in the closet next to the computer equipment and flipped through it looking for a page with a white background to write on. I glanced up at Rosetta, “How did these not get tossed out during your rage cleaning, Rosetta?”

  She shook her head. “I’d run out of Clorox and I didn’t want to touch them.”

  I nodded. “Makes sense.” I found a page for a cologne advertisement with a background of clouds and ripped it out.

  “Hey!” Stacks said. “Those are collector’s items. People sell their whole collections for serious cash.”

  “And the people who buy them are warped,” Rosetta said, digging through the nightstand and coming up with a pen. She tossed it to me and I started making a list.

  “Cypress branch, ‘God’s Tears’ elixir and then either Bishop’s Weed, Grains of Paradise, Herb-of-Grace, or Holy Basil.”

  “Or a combination of the four,” Festus said. I looked up at him standing in the doorway, wiping his hands and face on a fluffy, white towel.

  “Where’d that towel come from?” Stacks asked. “I don’t have any towels like that.”

  “Sir, I doubt you have any towels….at all. That war zone you call a bathroom reminds me very charmingly of a ditch in the outer bowels of the seventh ring, downstairs,” Festus said.

  Rosetta sighed. “Yeah, I’ve just been holding it since I got here. You’re braver than I am, Festus. I’d squat in the yard before I’d go in there.”

  “Not a good idea,” I said to Rosetta. “Considering what he has buried in the yard.”

  “I’ve seen people go downstairs for war crimes more heinous than I thought you squishy humans could stomach, but your...bathroom….has thrown my entire perception of your kind into question,” Festus huffed.

  “So you bring your own towels with you?” I asked. “Are they always so fluffy?”

  Festus ignored me and said to Stacks, “By the way, did you know you have a half-starved python in your bathtub?”

  “You found Yolanda?” Stacks started for the door but Festus didn’t move to give him room to pass down the narrow hallway.

  “I wasn’t aware she was a pet. I propped the bathroom window open and she took off,” Festus said with a nasty grin.

  Stacks bolted for the front of the trailer and we all followed him. Some of us were more eager than others. Tags went all the way outside to help Stacks look. I made it as far as the front steps and Rosetta stopped in the doorway. Festus and Noah didn’t even leave the trailer.

  I could hear Tags around the end of the trailer saying, “Here snakey, snakey, snakey.” I couldn’t tell by his tone if he was being sarcastic or actually trying to be helpful.