by F. F. John
Washington D.C.’s alleys were a shortcut for me as a law student hustling to and from school. While others found them scary, I’d always seen them as a means to an end—a way to get past the tourists and the slow-moving residents when time was of the essence.
Like most of the alleys in the northwest quadrant of the city, this one was quiet with a few doors leading into the towering office buildings on either side. A soft breeze lifted an errant flyer off the ground, sending it sailing toward the street at the other end. Unfortunately, the wind also lifted a stale stench into the air that made me grimace.
Ignoring the smell, I focused on the fact she was pissed off at me and I needed to fix that. Perhaps if I just explained, the night would be salvaged.
It took longer than I expected to catch up but when I did, her sniffles made me feel like a complete jerk. Shit! I really messed up. I couldn’t believe things were going so well and now I’d made her cry. Antonio would be proud and that wasn’t a good thing.
Placing a hand on her shoulder, I got her to stop. I was almost out of breath when I said, “That looked bad. I know. Please believe me, she was the one all over me. She’s a potential client’s niece, and I just wanted her to feel—”
The face that looked up at me was nothing like Delphine’s. There were no tears falling from those dead-looking eyes.
The creature’s skin had a metallic quality. It was scaly like and iridescent. But the eyes, those soulless voids filled me with a keen dread that sent me sprinting out the alley the way I came.
“You can’t run from me, LegionBorn!” The voice behind me cracked sending whips of fear through every muscle in my body. Then it started laughing. The sound was low at first but as it continued, it swelled, and a tremor shuddered its way through the bones of my feet.
The shaking became so intense I couldn’t take another step. Forced to stand still, I looked up, concerned the surrounding building walls would collapse on my cranium. I didn’t plan for this dark alley to be my grave. What an unsatisfactory way for anyone to go. After I’d made partner and had millions in my bank account, I wouldn’t mind. But not now.
With a glance over my shoulder, I saw the creature inching closer. Still cackling in that evil way I’d once thought reserved for movies. My pulse spiked. Despite my intentions, it was a struggle to move my feet, so I could look directly at the monster. Still, I eventually managed to turn around only to shudder in the face of impending doom.
My brain rattled within its cage making it hard to think about anything, including self-defense. Yet, I pushed myself to consider what I could do to keep from dying today. There had to be something!
I thought back to my experiences with other netherworld creatures. Demon spawn. Lucites. Whatever they were called. Each had come relatively close to hurting me, but I’d been able to slow them down with…
The necklace! My hand started moving to my neck but the vibration at my feet worsened, turning my muscular legs to little more than gelatin. I was halfway to the ground and struggling in vain to remain upright. The monster continued laughing, shoulders jumping up and down with a morose glee that I didn’t feel.
She was almost on me when the tip of my fingers brushed the cool metal on my chest. Dang on it! I should have wrapped this thing around my wrist, then I could have simply stretched out a hand and touched her with it. Or, maybe I should have just put the thing in my pocket and I could have flung it at her.
I groaned internally at that second option. If I was to be frank with myself, there was a good reason why I never put the necklace in my pocket. What was it again? I struggled to remember as the shaking threatened to liquefy my brain and everything else on my insides. Oh yes! I worried someone would pick my pocket and leave me defenseless.
What difference had that foresight made? I had on a protective charm that wouldn’t stop this worthless hag from killing me.
A crimson heat warmed my neck. I was pissed at my failure to prepare for a face-off tonight. I knew what happened the last time I went out on the town. Layla had warned me. She’d said the creatures of the netherworld loved D.C.’s nightlife, gathering in clubs and bars, warning that I could bump into anything.
I was also increasingly irate at this monster for tricking me. A puzzle piece slid into place and my eyes widened. This thing must be an imagen, able to change shape. I chanced a closer look at it, willing my heart to calm down even if just for a short second.
“I just want to take you to the master.” she barked, her voice taking on a distorted quality, making her sound like three people speaking at once.
Knowing that she meant to kidnap me, dialed my anger up some more. My dumb ass could have made some very different decisions tonight and I wouldn’t have been in this situation. I should have focused on the Peterson contract and gone home.
At least you got to make out with—
I silenced the thought immediately. If I was going to survive, I needed to get my necklace on this ugly thing and not reminisce about a kiss. No matter how good it was.
With eyes on the screeching ‘lady’, I continued trying to get a proper grip on the jewelry. I had to rip it off my neck. I knew it would hurt, but I would rather be in pain, than dead.
The thing’s gaze adjusted to something over my head and the shaking subsided with a strong jerk that drove me to my knees. Without missing a second, I yanked the necklace off and wielded it like a long snake. I snapped my wrist and sent one end of the metal at her.
I must have connected with flesh because she screamed in pain. What followed was a series of yips that rose to a crescendo, the sound bouncing off the walls as she scurried away.
An invisible force struck my chest, buckling my knees, but I soon scrambled to my feet. “You didn’t like that did you?” I asked her, feeling more confident. With a thwack, the necklace unfurled in her direction and she crouched, hands protecting her face.
Wait just one minute. I squeezed my eyes shut and then reopened them. The dress on this creature was no longer the golden hue I’d confused as Delphine’s. It was now black and matched the sooty patches of skin. Definitely an imagen. Just like Gladys.
While I was happy I could identify the netherworld monster of the day, I was furious when I recognized the dress it had on. I had seen the woman wearing it at the club.
Stern’s niece. Mila.
I watched as the gold mini dress changed right before my eyes. The curly hair that I once recognized became a pale blond under the meager alley lighting.
“You’re a demon spawn?” She didn’t bother to reply, still screaming in her pain. “You didn’t think I could beat you, did you?” I asked, feeling even more self-righteous. “If the devil wants me because of that stupid prophecy, tell him to go—”
In the blink of an eye, Mila—or what remained of her—flew at me with a roar and I stumbled, falling onto my butt. I was scrambling away from her when a shadow obscured my view.
“Obcido!” A man yelled into the night and the howling of the monster. He blocked my view of what happened next. All I saw were the edges of a blue flame that brought the baying to an immediate end.
I let out a relieved breath when the man whirled around.
“Caleb! Thank God, it’s you.”
His eyes crinkled at the corner as he said, “Yes, thank God because that Mami Wata was about to kill you.”
I ran a hand over my head, my eyes glued to the asphalt.
“You don’t know about Mami Watas?” He sighed. “They are sea creatures who come to land, so they can mate with men and suck up their life force. It keeps them young.”
“Layla told me a little about them,” I said, looking at him. “She said she would take me to her master. Same thing Gladys said.”
“Gladys?”
“Never mind that,” I said impatiently. “Why do you think that she was about to kill me?”
He extended a hand, pulling me to my feet. “Because that last sound you heard was a kill cry. It would have pulverized your insides had
you been an ordinary human.” He sighed and held his forehead, shoulders slumping. “Every Mami Wata nearby is on their way.”
I balled the necklace up in my hand and eased it into my pocket.
“Let’s get out of here.” Caleb marched to the alley’s entrance.
Trudging after him, I grumbled, “I asked Layla to fix the necklace, so these bastards wouldn’t be able to find me.” I pulled out the offensive jewelry and glared at it.
“You can’t blame her for this. Not when you walked right into the lion’s den.”
“What do you mean?” I asked as we stepped into the street. Where it was empty not too long ago, cars and people now moved past. Even the streetlights no longer flickered.
“You walked into Lucifer’s haven. What did you think was going to happen?” Caleb muttered still walking down the street.
“Hold on one hot minute,” I said and grabbed one of his shoulders, forcing him to stop. “Luxor belongs to Lucifer?”
“Yes.” Caleb started moving again. “Come on, we really need to get away from here.”
If Luxor belonged to Lucifer, then Davo Stern was…My mouth dried as I contemplated the possibility.
“I met Davo Stern today. Do you know who that is?”
Caleb stopped walking and his spine stiffened. When he turned around, his eyes were cold. “You met him? As in, he saw you?”
“I shook the man’s hand and told him my firm would like his business.” My voice was barely audible.
“Stern is German for—”
“Star,” I mumbled, dread swelling in my chest. Morning Star.
Caleb nodded. “The first name he uses should be much more telling, but he’s done a very good job at deceiving even those who should know better. They hear the name Davo and think it’s some version of David. But in truth, it’s the Bosnian word for Devil.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “This is bull! If Stern really is the devil, why didn’t he just kill me?”
“You think he needs to do his own dirty work? When he has an army of foot soldiers who would do anything he needed?” Caleb snorted a disappointed sound. “That’s not how he operates, son.”
I pressed fingers to my temple as I felt a headache coming. I just met the devil. Or Satan. He had far too many names to count. My body shook harder than it did when the entire alley vibrated.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I said wrapping an arm around my stomach as a sense of queasiness overcame me.
Caleb stuck out his arm and three separate taxis squealed to a stop in front of us. As a black man, I never enjoyed such a privilege. I didn’t have time to ponder the issue further as Caleb said, “Get in. Let’s get you home where you’ll be safe.”
--XII--
CALEB BROUGHT ME HOME, PATROLLED the perimeter while mumbling softly, and checked my fridge. “You’ve got enough food to last a few days. Good.” He’d shut the fridge door with a slam. He was still irritated with me. Likely because I disobeyed Layla.
He announced he wanted me to stay at my condo. “Until I return.”
I’d argued that I couldn’t just hide. “Yes, you can,” he’d insisted. “Call in sick. Just don’t leave until I get back.”
That was three days ago, and I was going mad cooped up in my condo. I’d finished most of the food in my fridge by the end of day one. Food helped me feel less bored. On my second day of house arrest, I’d picked up the phone to order Ethiopian food only to throw my cordless phone to the walnut floor. In addition to Caleb telling me not to leave, he’d also instructed me not to open my door for strangers. That meant I couldn’t open the door for a delivery guy.
My mouth watered at the thought of the spongy injera bread paired with spicy kei wot—a tomato-based sauce filled with meat that just falls apart once it touches the tongue. Or, the gomen—cooked greens—I liked to get with my order no matter which of the many Ethiopian restaurants I visited.
Luckily, I found lasagna in my freezer on day two. Sofia had forced it on me months ago when she first bought a pasta-making machine. When I pulled it out, I winced at the severe freezer burn. Still, I sent silent thanks to Antonio’s girlfriend. Had she not made me take it home that day, I’d have starved.
Interspersed with my fear of dying from hunger before Caleb returned where numerous thoughts of Delphine. I called several times to no answer. On multiple occasions, I left the same message—I know things looked bad, but nothing happened with that girl. I’m sorry to have even given that impression. Please call me back.
If she received my voice messages, I had no clue. I imagined she’d received them and had listened to them repeatedly, opting to make me sweat.
I also connected with the firm’s servers from home to get work done. A message was conveyed that I’d picked up some late-summer version of the flu. Antonio told some coworkers he thought I had Ebola. I should have been pissed at him, but his joke prompted Watson’s secretary to call me on day two. She gently suggested I take the week off to rest.
By day three, I’d done as much work as I could do from home and caught up on as much local and international news as was humanly possible. I was going stir-crazy with each passing minute.
That night, I went to bed early, climbing under my sheets by nine. My mind wandered to thoughts of Delphine before sleep settled into my bones.
***
My cell phone jarred me from sleep on day four. Must be my alarm, I thought and flung a pillow over my head to block it out.
However, the sound didn’t let up. Shrill and demanding, it continued, rapidly fracturing my peaceful state.
Frustrated, I jerked upright in bed and cast a glare at the offending device. That didn’t stop it and so I leaned over to pick it up from my bedside table.
It wasn’t my alarm going off, it was my ringer. And on the screen was a name I’d been hoping to see.
Delphine Corniere.
In the upper left corner of the phone’s screen, the time stood proudly—11:23 a.m.
What! How did I sleep so late? That had never happened before as my body typically rose at six in the morning. Why did I oversleep?
Ring!
Oh, yes. Delphine’s calling. I turned on the phone, but not before coughing to clear all evidence of slumber from my voice. I hoped it would help me sound sexy enough so she wouldn’t shut me down when I asked her out for dinner.
My hello came just as she hung up and I tossed my cell phone onto my bed in frustration. Freeing myself from the covers, I rolled off and headed to the bathroom. I’d just put a foot on the heated bathroom tile when my phone bleated again.
Racing to pick it up, I discovered my phone was hidden under the covers. I tossed pillows and yanked up the cover sheet. I was still searching when I heard a thud on the other side of the bed. Scrambling across the mattress, I found my phone face down on the floor.
With a stretch, I picked it up and started speaking. “Hey, Delphine. Thanks for finally calling me back. I know you’re pissed, but let me—”
“I don’t give a crap about your love life, Prentiss.” The cold voice on the pone sounded nothing like Delphine’s. “I also don’t give a flying rat’s ass if you’re puking blood and dying from Ebola. I need you at the firm right now.”
“Yes, Mr. Watson. I’m on my way,” I said, properly chagrined.
“And, Prentiss?”
“Yes, Mr. Watson?”
“Look sharp and sound sharp. Davo Stern is here!”
My palms sweated, and it was a mercy the cell phone didn’t slide out of my grip. “Mr. Stern, sir?”
“Didn’t you hear me the first time?” he growled into my ear and I gulped. “He says he’ll only talk to you. Get here and get us that account!”
By the time the line went dead, I was in my bathroom. A quick shower later, I was brushing and flossing as fast as I could. I raced into my walk-in closet and pulled out a black tailored suit made for me in London. Someone like Stern would recognize the expert skill from Saville Row. The suit cost me a sma
ll fortune. It better pay off today!
I was shoving my feet into shoes when I heard the ghost of Caleb’s voice telling me to stay in my condo. That was four days ago. If I had his number, I could have told him of the latest development.
Are you about to go meet with Davo Stern? As in, Lucifer, the fallen angel who wants you dead to prevent some obscure prophecy?
The shoe in my hands dropped to the closet floor. This is crazy! I held my head in my hands.
If I hadn’t known Mr. Stern was the devil in human skin, I’d have thought he was nothing more than what everyone else considered him to be—a successful businessman with money to burn in need of legal services. I would have done everything in my power to convince such a player that my firm would be the perfect fit.
Unfortunately, if I was to believe Caleb—and I was so inclined, considering how he dispatched of that Mami Wata the other night—then I really should avoid an encounter with Mr. Stern.
However, if I did that, I could kiss my job and my partnership dreams goodbye. My mouth dried at the thought. Since law school, I’d taken precise steps to be successful. I’d made sacrifices and I couldn’t turn my back on the objective. Not when I was so close that I could taste victory.
What was I going to do? Cancel the meeting and miss this chance or go and put my life at risk?
My mind went blank. It was almost impossible for me to consider either of the odds. Perhaps I could put off the meeting. Yes, that sounded like a reasonable option. Postpone the meeting until I found protection strong enough to keep Lucifer and his minions from turning me into chopped liver.
Suddenly, I wasn’t as scared as I’d been. If I called Layla, I could ask her for a protection against death. She’d be able to make one of those, right? If not, Caleb or Bode could tell me what words to say when vanquishing a demon spawn.
What was it Layla had said to those zwarts that night? Oh right—I snap my finger—Ignis! I could use that. If I recalled correctly, Bode had said…Good God, what was it he’d said? With my eyes squeezed shut, it took me a few seconds, but I finally remembered the word Bode used to get rid of the zwart twins. Ekuro was what I’d heard him say. However, when he’d used the word, he’d done so with what I presumed was a Nigerian accent. While I enjoyed associating accents with languages, I was no good at imitating them so trying to say Ekuro was out of the question for me.