by D V Wolfe
He grabbed me by the hair and raised the knife to my neck, “I’m going to enjoy this.” I reached a hand for his face and a hand for the knife and he put a heavy foot on my chest, knocking the air out of me.
“No!” The one I had sprayed was on his hands and knees near me looking at two black ash smudges on the elevator floor.
“What the shit?” The one holding me said. “What happened to Valia and Lance? Are those...?” He let go of my hair and reached down to run a finger through the smudge. He brought it to his face and looked at it in horror. Well at least I knew the corndog stakes worked now. I reached behind me on the ground. I was pinned and I couldn’t reach the stakes in my back pockets. The .45 had worked its way out of my pants when I’d been shoved back. I wrapped my hand around the handle and raised it enough to shoot switchblade-guy in the groin. He screamed and went down to his knees, stabbing me in the leg. “You stupid bitch! You fucking, stupid…!” I really wished I had my sawed-off, but Stacks had needed something he could handle. I rolled away from the groin-shot guy and he slumped to the ground, bleeding and crying. I had a tiny stab of pity knowing that the meat suit the demon was wearing was probably going to bleed out. But in real life, he must have been an asshole for the demon to be able to get in in the first place. Probably karmic justice or something. At least I hoped. There was the possibility that he was wearing an Empty House. I hadn’t bothered to check behind his ear.
The one I had sprayed ignored him and turned to me. “Oh sweetheart, you picked the wrong building to scrub tonight. We love hosting hunters, eating them is a particular delicacy. You’ll be headlining the menu tonight.” I leveled the gun at him and he laughed. “Go ahead.” He pressed the button for the eighth floor and I shot him in the face. He grabbed his face, half-laughing, half-crying. I rolled over and grabbed the stakes sticking out of the demon puddles on the floor. Just to be sure, I stabbed the two demons I’d shot through the chest. They both screamed and started flailing around. The doors dinged open and I looked up to see at least sixty demons staring in at us in a large cubicle area. Their collective gaze moved from the two demons spasming on the elevator floor, to me, leaning against the back of the elevator, taking shallow breaths against the pain in my side and bleeding. I picked up the .45 off the elevator floor and pointed it out the open door.
There was a moment when the whole room seemed to breathe together.
And then there was absolute chaos. Demons surged on the open elevator. Hands had me by the hair, clothing, arms, and legs. I fired every shot I had in the .45. I made contact with the first few demons, and my last shot took out an overhead light as a demon punched me in the face. I felt my nose break and I squeezed the trigger again, feeling the hammer click on an empty chamber. The gun was knocked out of my hand. I was being torn at, pushed through the crowd of demons screaming and laughing. I felt a bite at my shoulder and I kicked out, catching another one in the chin. They threw me down on a desk and I saw the flash of silver blades and the glow of red eyes over me, ready to carve me up.
I closed my eyes. I remembered the first time I’d died in my first Empty House. It had been slow and painful, ripped apart, and then thrown out a window by that Djinn after falling right into its trap. I guess I hadn’t progressed that much.
The tips of the blades above me began to descend. A roaring in my ears from the pain at my side and the desire to just let go overwhelmed me. I felt an elation that at least they were focused on me and that hopefully they believed I was alone and the others had already made it out of the building. I was held tight by so many arms I already felt dead, unable to move anything now.
“Hey!” A smooth Dean Martin-like voice called over the hissing and growling of the demons. All the demons holding me turned to look and I felt the hold on me loosen. In a rippling effect, switchblades were retracted and knives were put away. “What on earth is going on out here?” I was able to turn my head now to see the person that was talking. It was a man in a perfectly-pressed tux. He wore his black hair in a jerry curl and a pair of shaded blue glasses with cat-eye rims rested on the long bridge of his nose. He approached me and waved away the others who were holding me. “Let our, well not guest of honor, but certainly unexpected guest, go. How is that for manners?” He extended a hand to me but from the look on my face, he quickly realized I wasn’t about to shake it. Instead, he reached it up to the bowtie at his neck and pretended to straighten it. “I have no idea why we are being infernally blessed with your presence here tonight, but as the Valet to the Duke we serve, allow me to welcome you. They call me Mr. Scratch.”
I wanted to tell Mr. Scratch that I didn’t give a shit what they called him and that I was there to kill his boss, but the shock of still being alive had me tongue-tied. Mr. Scratch turned his gaze to look at the other demons. “Who wants to tell me what happened?”
I was dragged up into a sitting position and then hauled off the desk.
“It’s a hunter, Mr. Scratch, she attacked first.” A demon near the elevator said.
Mr. Scratch hissed and the room instantly became quiet. He strolled across the room and stopped in front of me.
“The Duke will need something to drink when he arrives. Put her in the office with the other one.”
Great. What other poor hostages did they already have stored in here? Probably some terrified office worker. At least it was good to know that the big dog hadn’t made an appearance yet. Maybe I could grab the hostages and get them out of here. I’d killed four demons. At least, I think I’d killed them. They were low-level, but that still had to be worth something. They half-dragged, half-walked me around the edge of the cubicle area. We passed a few scattered bodies lining the walls. All appeared dead, eyes wide and unseeing. These had been hostages. The unlucky ones. Or maybe these were the lucky ones. They brought me through the door. My legs felt disconnected from the rest of my body and the pain in my side had become a dull ache. The office wall, facing the cubicle area, was frosted glass, floor to ceiling. A huge partner’s desk and a credenza were the only two pieces of furniture in the middle of the room, everything else had been pushed to the walls. Strapped down on the credenza was a small, beaten body. If it hadn’t been for the mop of orange hair, I wouldn’t have recognized him at all.
Now my legs went out. He wasn’t moving. Why did it have to be Noah? Did this mean...Had they killed Rosetta already? This was not supposed to happen. They were supposed to get out. Get to safety, leave me to deal with this mess. They’d already helped too much, going with me through everything to get to this point. And for what? The boss demon wasn’t even here and I was about to kiss this meat suit goodbye. And that was if I was lucky. What Scratch had said made my hair stand on end. There was nothing in the rulebook about not being allowed to drink me if I was the one who came in and kicked the beehive. At this point, death was the good outcome.
26
“Close the door,” Scratch said. “And put her on the desk.” He checked his watch and the demons holding me, lifted me off the ground and slammed me down on the desk, like a side of beef. I looked over at Noah. He still hadn’t moved. “It seems that our little crew of innocent cleaners aren’t quite so innocent,” Scratch said. “Hunters moonlighting? You know, I’ve always wondered. Why do you all hunt us? I mean, it can’t be for the money. Is it for the scars? The pain? Are you all just masochists?”
I gritted my teeth. “Are you all just dickbags?” I asked. “Or is it a fashion choice?”
Scratch waved the two demons holding me away. “Let her up.” I sat up the second they let go and I made a production of reaching for my side, pretending to feel the wound while I shifted around. I still had the two stakes in my back jeans pockets. Not that they would be enough. If I attacked the demons in here, more would just flood in. I needed a plan.
“Well,” Scratch began. “I can’t speak for my...associates, but I pride myself on having class when it comes to something like this. I’ve been planning this little homecoming for my...boss for a m
illenia now. You know how booking a venue can be. If you don’t do it in advance, it’s not going to happen.” Scratch gave me a sickening smile and moved away from me to look out the windows at the dark sky. I could see his reflection in the window and his expression had shifted from pleasant to annoyance bordering on murderous rage. He cleared his throat and straightened his bowtie again before turning back to look at me. He was only half successful in returning the smile to his face. “The last thing I expected, or needed tonight was a bunch of low-life hunters invading my party,” Scratch said, his voice was low and threatening. Without warning, he lunged at me, and grabbed my throat. I could feel fingernails like knife blades puncturing my skin on top of the bruises the Hayman had given me. He spun quickly and threw me off the desk like a shot put. He let me go and my body bounced off the wall and slumped to the ground.
Scratch seemed to gather himself, tugging gently on one suit jacket sleeve then the other, before putting one hand to his chest to pat the red handkerchief in his jacket pocket. “There now, that’s a little more appropriate. Silence really is golden. I mean, sometimes it’s red, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs, now can you,” Scratch said. “This jubilee for my Duke is just the beginning. The end is nigh, hunter, surely you feel it. The war is just beginning.”
“Did you read that off of a gas station novel’s dust jacket or something?” I wheezed. “And then just decide to adopt it as your underlying purpose in life?” I wiped at the blood still oozing out of my nose and looked over at Noah. I thought I saw his foot twitch and something like hope leaped inside me.
“You’re all full of piss and vinegar, aren’t you?” Scratch said. He let out a short, roaring laugh that gave me full-body chills. “Hunters. You’re all convinced that you’re the cure to what ails this pathetic ball of rock. Why is the status quo worth saving? Why? You’re born, you screw up, you die. Lather, rinse, repeat,” Scratch said. A beep at his wrist went off. He paused to look at his watch and he smiled. “The mortals have had their shot. Now it’s our turn.” He looked at the other two demons, standing sentinel in the room. “Restrain her,” he said and the Dean Martin quality in his voice was replaced with a harsh hiss.
The two demons grabbed me, one by each arm, and Scratch pulled a silver dagger out of the inside of his coat. He studied me, tapping the blade against his lips. “Should we cut off an ear before I slit your throat? Maybe gouge out an eye?” He moved in front of me like a hairdresser trying to decide on the look they were going for. “No,” he said. “I like the ear. I want you to be able to see with both eyes when my Duke gets here. I want you to watch as he drinks you and your friend.” He grabbed my left ear and I struggled as hard as I could against the demons who were holding me. He bent the cartilage forward on itself and placed the blade just below my ear lobe. “We’ll do this slowly, I think,” Scratch said. “I want you to be able to really savor the pain.” I felt the blade slowly start to slide up my jaw. Scratch leaned closer to me as I felt the sting of the blade slicing through the bottom of my earlobe.
Then he paused.
“Well this is interesting,” Scratch said, his voice moving back towards the lounge-singer end of the spectrum. “No,” he said, letting go of my ear and moving back to look at me. “This is an Empty House, which makes you Bane, right?” Scratch was looking at me with new eyes. “The only mortal to be given a second chance on a technicality, right?” He shook his head. “I know why you’re here.” His watch beeped again and he looked down at it, breaking eye contact with me. “We’ll use the other one for the blood sacrifice,” he said to the demons, turning away from me. “She’s not an original soul. Her blood won’t raise our Duke and drinking her won’t quench his thirst when he arrives. Get the other one up.”
Why didn’t he just pick my right ear? There was no brand there. If he had, he wouldn’t have stopped. He’d be carving me up right now, business as planned. One of the demons let go of my left arm and moved around to the credenza to untie the straps holding Noah to its surface. Scratch had turned around again and was chanting now, his hands pressed against the windows. Enochian symbols were glowing in a halo around him, red and gold, as he chanted. I glanced up to see the demon still holding my right arm was watching Scratch. I looked behind me to see the other demon was now working at the straps on Noah’s legs. Noah’s hands were free, but still laying by his side, lifeless.
I slipped my left hand behind me, slowly, feeling for the top of the stake in my back pocket. Maybe, if I moved fast enough, I could stab the demon holding me and jump across the credenza to stab the other demon before he could do anything to Noah. Then there was Scratch. He seemed to be stronger than the other demons, but if I moved fast enough, maybe I could get to him before he had time to attack me. I saw Noah’s nose twitch and movement behind his closed eyelids.
I stared down at Noah, trying to decide if he had actually moved or if I’d imagined it. The demon had overdone it with the knots on Noah’s legs and the straps were giving him some serious problems. He was bent over, picking at the knots, his back to Noah’s head.
“Noah,” I breathed.
“Stake that guy like he hit your sister,” Noah whispered, barely moving his lips. He slowly opened his eyes and winked at me. As if we’d planned it, and with the ecstasy of one last surge of hope running through me, I pulled the stake out of my jeans, and with every ounce of force I had, I buried it into the side of the demon still holding me. He screamed and started doing the full-body, dry-heave thing, staggering away from me, the stake still buried in his side.
I scrambled off the desk and reached back for the last stake. The other demon was screaming now, Noah’s hands fisted in his suit jacket, flames and smoke rising above them. I moved as quickly as I could around the end of the table. The screaming demon stumbled into me and I staked him through the chest. He began to spasm as I pulled the stake out. I turned back to look for Scratch, my heart pounding in my ears. When I saw him, I stopped.
Scratch had turned from the window and was standing next to the credenza. He was standing with Noah’s back leaned against his chest. Noah’s legs were still bound. Scratch was chanting, the silver dagger in his hand, held to Noah’s throat. Noah’s eyes were closed and he looked like he was unconscious again. Scratch paused in his chanting and said, “Sorry, I’m a stickler for protocol and his blood is needed for the final part of the ritual. I just put him to sleep so there wouldn’t be any more nonsense.” Scratch looked down at Noah. “It’s a pity. He looks like a nice boy. Of course, if you really knew what raising my Duke could do for you, Bane, you wouldn’t hesitate to let me bleed this boy dry.” I held the stake tight, moving around in front of him, trying to figure out the best angle to attack so that Scratch wouldn’t be able to slit Noah’s throat first.
“Why don’t you drop the boy and come after me? I know your boss wants me dead, wouldn’t I be a better prize to hand him?” I asked.
“Well of course he wants you dead. You’re a liability. You go back downstairs one more time and you’re down for the count. You showing up here tonight is the worst thing that could happen to his homecoming. Or the best. If you kill him, your contract goes up in smoke. Of course, if he kills you, his payout on your contract is ensured as is his promotion, and subsequently, mine.” Scratch said. “Don’t you want that chance to try to kill him? Gain back your freedom, even free those other souls?” I lowered the stake a few inches. Scratch smiled and looked back down at Noah, “All I have to do is bleed this one out, and you’ll get it.”
I looked at Noah. What kind of life was he going to have, anyway? With his condition, he was a danger to everyone around him. Besides, he was just a hitchhiker. What was one life compared to six hundred and seventy-nine...six hundred and eighty souls, counting mine? It’s not like I’d be sending his soul to Hell by letting Scratch bleed him out. And in exchange for his life, I would kill a Duke of Hell. How many lives would that save?
I looked down at Noah’s frizzy mop-top and his
pale face, bruises starting to form on his cheeks. Maybe this was mercy. For him and for me.
Scratch was chuckling now. “You see, you humans always romanticize life and what it’s worth. I guess you’re mortal and really, what else do you have to do. Demons, we’re far more rational. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn’t hesitate.” The threat in Rosetta’s toilet, Scratch’s own threat, and what Festus had told me months ago, came crashing down on me. This is what a demon would do. Without hesitating. And I wasn’t a demon. Not yet.
Something snapped inside me and I lunged for Scratch as he started to bring the blade across Noah’s neck. I stabbed him in the forearm, grabbing the dagger with my other hand, trying to pull it away. Noah jerked awake and reached up to clamp down both hands on Scratch’s wrist. Flames licked up Scratch’s jacket sleeve and I held my breath as the smoke hit me in the eyes. Scratch was screaming and starting to shake. I pulled the stake out of his arm as he knocked me back. Scratch dropped the blade and staggered back from Noah. I plowed into Scratch and knocked him to the floor, pinning him to the ground with my knees on his shoulders. The flames on Scratch’s jacket had turned to smoke but he was still screaming as the arm began to liquify to the black ooze that had come from the other demons. I raised my stake above my head, ready to shove it through his stupid bow tie.