Demon Dance

by Brian Freyermuth

  “So that’s it then. You’re just going to run and hope it all goes away?”

  “Hope what goes away?” I asked her. “Nothing of what we do matters, Cate, and the sooner you realize that the better. What we do gets people dead. I can’t do it anymore.”

  “And what about the people we help?” she shot back. “What about those twins we found last year? Or that little girl Mary? What about them?”

  “None of it balances out.” I ripped open the driver’s door to the truck and this time she let me. “Someone else can do it, but not me. Not anymore.”

  “I wonder what Ann would think if she saw you running like this.”

  That was it. I turned on her, and something in my face made her step back. Her eyes dilated until only black remained. I knew what it meant. I didn’t care.

  “She’s dead,” I said thinly.

  I sat down behind the wheel and slammed the door. Without looking at her, I started up the old engine and shoved it into first gear.

  At the last minute I looked back. Cate stood in the light of the street, her own sanctuary from the darkness. She hugged her arms to her chest as she collapsed to her knees.

  I drove on and…

  …never looked back. The darkness faded in the way dreams do, replaced by the grayness of waking. But when I opened my eyes I could still see her in that spotlight falling to her knees. I couldn’t see her face, but her agony etched itself into every movement.

  Familiar water stains decorated the ceiling above me. The rising sun peeked out for the first time in weeks and strained through the blinds, lining the room with bands of orange.

  I lifted my head to take stock. The Star Wars poster hung back on the wall. Someone had taken it out of the closet. I could guess who. I glanced around, but my room looked like it always did. Yet something felt out of place. Some difference that eluded me.

  It took me a moment to realize what was wrong. Actually, not wrong per se, but more like what was not wrong.

  I didn’t hurt. I could breathe normally, and I lay back down and just relished the feeling of my lungs working. My left forearm and shoulder still remained tender, but other than that I felt great.

  “Feeling better?”

  I sat up and turned toward the speaker. He hadn’t been there a moment before, I was sure of it. Now he sat in one of my dining room chairs, not ten feet from me. That didn’t surprise me considering who he was. Or, more precisely, what he was.

  The man smiled gently. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said. There was a purring sound, and I looked down and saw Walker jump up onto his lap. Somehow the little cat had broken into my house again.

  The man absently stroked the animal between the ears. “There is still so much I do not remember, but this body seems to know the old ways.” He smiled wistfully.

  “Az‒”

  “That one died a long, long time ago,” he said with a raised hand. “I don’t really know who I am, but you may call me Adam.”

  As he spoke, I noticed that his face, while holding the same ruggedness and the same scars, seemed lighter. He still wore the same dirty rags that covered most of his skin, but even they seemed to hang on him better. It was if the old Adam had been a cheap suit that didn’t quite fit while this new one wore himself with confidence.

  “I healed you.” He continued to stroke the cat, much to the enjoyment of Walker. “Your body helped, which I’m thankful for. I don’t know how successful I would have been otherwise. The scars from the Deceiver’s blades, however, I cannot heal. You’ll probably have those for a good long while.”

  “Thank you,” I croaked.

  He simply smiled again. “When did you know?” he asked.

  I sat up against the wall and shrugged. I was dressed in new jeans and a clean shirt, which was a godsend considering the blood and gore that had covered my old clothes. I hoped he had burned them.

  “I suspected when the mercs first attacked,” I told him. “First there was the explosion. That was a defense mechanism, I suspect?”

  He nodded. “In my frustration and anger I unleashed some of my old power without knowing. I hope I didn’t damage the house.”

  “I don’t know about that, but the helicopter was simply gone. Remind me not to get on your bad side,” I joked. When his smile slipped, I mentally kicked myself and continued, “You came out covered in blood, but not wounded. Then there was the mysterious past, right around the time Michael and the goon squad showed up looking for an angel off the grid. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “So you didn’t bring me out to the senator’s mansion out of the goodness of your heart,” he said, bemused. “I was your secret weapon.”

  “Only if I had to show my hand,” I told him. “It was only a suspicion.”

  “And you told the others?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why?”

  “I liked Adam,” I said. “I don’t think it’s fair that he had to pay for your sins.”

  “My sins indeed,” Adam said with a wistful sigh. I could feel the sadness coming from him. “Well, for that, Adam thanks you.”

  He pushed Walker gently off of his lap and stood up. The cat gave an indignant twitch of his tail before jumping onto the foot of the bed to clean himself.

  “How long was I out?” I asked Adam.

  “Two days. Your friends have been by multiple times to check on you. I had to push Thelma to go home and get some rest.” He winked.

  “Two days? Damn.”

  Adam moved his gaze past me to the window. “They will be coming soon. I can feel him lingering at the edges of my mind. The captain will sniff me out soon enough.”

  “Can’t you run or something?” I asked as I pulled the covers away. I was sore, but otherwise I felt good. Walker just watched me with bored eyes.

  Adam shook his head. “I have been running for almost fifty years. I'm tired of it. Better that I meet them on my own terms. We cannot run from our past, Nicholas St. James. It only makes the past more eager to catch us.”

  “Tell me about it. Now hold on while I get my shoes.”

  Adam frowned. “You do not have to accompany me, my friend. Beth and her child are safe. The culprit is vanquished and they are not in danger. Your part in this is finished.”

  “Like hell,” I told him as I swung my legs around and looked for my shoes. “There’s more to this than we know.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Indeed.” I stood up and faced him. “I’m going to need my shoes, and then I’m going to need my cell phone. Thelma’s not going to like what I have in mind, but it’ll benefit her in the long run. It’ll benefit all of us, actually, including you.”

  A smile slowly made its way across his face again. “Your kind thinks and feels so much. You think it’s a curse, but it’s not. You think it drowns you, but your minds and your hearts are the only things keeping the floods at bay. I will miss that the most.”

  He stepped aside.

  I waved at the Star Wars poster before moving past him. “Thanks for putting that up again. It never should’ve been taken down in the first place.”

  Adam simply bowed, the bemused smile still on his face.

  He was right about your past always catching you. It was time for both of us to stop running.

  With that thought, I pulled out my phone. I would call Jake and Thelma, but first I had to call a certain archangel. I only hoped it was a private line.

  It was time to see this to the end.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  I paused outside Thelma’s coffee shop in my beat-up jean jacket and an old Black Sabbath baseball hat on backward. I thought it was appropriate. The boarded windows gave the shop an abandoned feel, and the “Closed” sign didn’t help. Dozens of people walked the sidewalks, each one going about their lives, talking to themselves, or holding hands with their loved ones. None of them knew about the hornet’s nest I was about to poke.

  On the phone, Thelma had danced a fine line between bei
ng happy to hear I was OK and angry at what I proposed. To her credit she had actually listened to my plan. Why she agreed I’ll never know.

  I sent Adam around the back of the store, because I’ve learned it’s all in the timing. For now it was just me and the lions. I should’ve been used to it considering the last few days, but it didn’t lessen the grip of fear around my guts.

  If I stood outside the door any longer I’d probably do the smart thing and hitchhike to Canada. Instead I took a deep breath and opened the door.

  And immediately cursed.

  Thelma looked up from cleaning a table and smiled sweetly. “Can I help you?” she asked. She was dressed in another pantsuit, a light tan outfit that offset her dark skin. She looked like she was ready to give a presentation.

  I stepped in and looked around. The Big Guys hadn’t appeared yet, but it didn’t mean they weren’t there. Creepy thought. Even worse was that Thelma was here, when I had told her to stay as far away as she could.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked her.

  “You expected my sister to listen?” Jake said with a smile as he walked out of the back. He carried a soda, as if facing off against a pack of angels and demons was the most normal thing in the world. But I noticed that his T-shirt was cleaner than usual and that he had taken time to iron his jeans.

  “It runs in the family,” I muttered angrily. “You two understand what’s going on here?”

  “Of course we know what’s going on,” Jake answered. “You might need us to save your ass.”

  “Again,” Thelma added.

  Part of me wanted to scream, but I ran out of time. My ears popped as the pressure in the room dropped.

  “Fine, just watch yourselves,” I told them before turning around.

  The shadows stretched back to the far wall, and they weren’t fueled by the overhead track lighting. It made me feel like I was shrinking backward as the darkness condensed into a form.

  “Nicholas St. James,” the blackness spoke, “so good to see you again.” Once again Baal spoke with the voice of a man while toads gulped and cats hissed in a maddening echo.

  A man in a perfectly tailored black suit stepped out of the shadows, his pale skin the color of a fresh corpse. His blond hair shimmered with oil and his face was pinched and all sharp edges. Tiny sharp teeth filled his cheerful smile. He didn’t move forward, however.

  I blinked and Michael was suddenly next to me, which made me jump out of my skin.

  The angel stood a hand’s length away, still dressed like any other beat cop you might see roaming the streets of Seattle. His skin was a little deeper brown, giving him more of a middle-eastern look. There wasn’t a black hair out of place.

  “You called us and we have come,” he said simply, his voice as smooth as a jazz singer’s. He glanced behind him to the man in black and nodded once.

  The man was gone and in his place was a pale woman, dressed in a tight, see-through dress that left nothing to anyone’s imagination. Her teeth were still points, however, no matter the form.

  “I didn’t think he’d show,” Baal said, her voice dialing past desire and landing somewhere on the turnpike of teenage sexual fantasies. “Although I can think of a few things to do to him now that he’s here.”

  I found myself reacting, and I pushed the desire down. Man, I hated demons. “Where’s the third one?” I asked.

  Baal looked at Michael, who kept his dark eyes on me. “I asked Sraosha not to attend. She has other matters that she must supervise.”

  “All the better for us, eh?” Baal said and laughed. He was now an older man, his baggy T-shirt hanging over a frame that a corpse would have envied. His white hair hung past his wicked smile. “Now be a good monkey and show us the Grigori.”

  I glanced behind me to make sure Thelma and Jake were OK. They both sat at a table in the far corner. Thelma’s hands were in her lap, her right one inside her purse. Jake sat in a relaxed posture, but I could see the tension in his jerky movements. Both of them couldn’t hide their fear.

  Here’s where it got hairy.

  “First,” I said as I turned back to the two heavy hitters, “I want a deal.”

  The demon’s smile disappeared, and his black eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you have much to bargain with.”

  “I have everything to bargain with,” I told the demon. “One word from me and Azazel is gone. How many years will you waste searching for him again?”

  Baal hissed and stepped forward, but Michael simply raised a hand. The demon stopped, his solid black eyes flicking from me to the archangel in hatred. He then bowed his white head and stepped back, but I caught the barest hint of a smile as he placed himself behind Michael.

  “What is your price?” the archangel asked.

  “I want this place declared neutral ground,” I stated. “No demon or angel will step foot in here ever again.”

  A thoughtful look passed over the angel’s eyes. “I agree to your terms.” He glanced behind him. “Baal?”

  The demon was now a large man dressed in dull black medieval armor. His black hair swirled past his thick hips. “Such a simple thing,” he whispered. “As emissary for the Thirteen Flames, I agree as well, but on one condition. It will be neutral ground as long as Mr. St. James is alive and no longer.”

  “Agreed,” I said.

  “Was there anything else you would like?” Baal asked with a laugh. “Maybe the moon while you’re at it?”

  “No thanks,” I told him. “My apartment’s too small.”

  “Then bring out the Fallen One,” Michael ordered. I caught another grin on Baal’s face.

  “He actually came on his own volition,” I said and turned. “Adam?”

  Adam stepped out of the back, and I heard Baal’s cat hiss again. Adam looked at peace for the first time since I had first seen him. He walked up to Michael and put out his hand in a friendly greeting.

  “Nice to see you again, brother,” Adam told him.

  Michael sniffed like a canine. He frowned. “This one,” he said, “is Azazel and yet is not. How did this happen?”

  “It’s a long story,” Adam told him.

  Michael stared at Adam for a long moment, and when he made no move to shake the other’s hand, Adam dropped it. “As righteous as always,” he said.

  “We have come to take you back to your prison, Grigori,” Michael told him.

  “I know.”

  “You will not fight us?”

  “No,” Adam said. “I will come willingly.”

  Michael stepped forward and raised his hand as Adam closed his eyes. Sorrow flickered lightly over the face of the captain of the angels. The two were inches apart.

  Close enough that the wicked barb that burst through Michael’s chest almost impaled Adam.

  I grabbed him and yanked him back as Michael stumbled forward. Blood sprayed from the archangel’s chest as he grabbed the head of the spear with both hands. It sliced through his fingers as he went to his knees.

  Baal didn’t let the spear go. Instead he pulled it free from Michael’s bleeding body and plunged it back into the angel’s spine once more. Michael coughed up blood, and Baal pushed him forward until he was face first on the floor.

  The demon had a familiar form now. Graying brown hair framed a strong, pale face. His blue suit was just as wrinkled and lived in as it was when I had walked into his office earlier this week.

  Baal wore the form of Senator Helms.

  Michael began to convulse, and thin snakes of light crawled over his skin with each convulsion. He coughed up more blood as Baal twisted the spear sideways, clearly enjoying the angel’s pain.

  I stepped back, and suddenly I had Thelma on my right and Jake on my left. Neither of them said anything, but their friendship kept my eyes locked on the horrible sight. I couldn’t afford to take my eyes off the demon.

  Bright, burning light covered Michael’s body now, and Baal gave one final wicked twist of his weapon. Michael gave a sigh, and his body
simply vanished in a soft cloud of smoke.

  “Well,” I told Baal, “at least angels don’t leave a mess. Your kind should take some pointers.”

  Baal looked up at me and set the butt of the spear on the floor. He leaned the weapon against the wall and wiped his hands on his blue pants.

  “You’re not surprised?” he said.

  Not this time. I shrugged. “I figured that Elnora needed more than a captain of Hell on her side to keep her husband squeaky clean all these years. Then I remembered the statue in the senator’s office. A demon with the face of a cat, a frog, and a man. Pretty sloppy, if you ask me.”

  Baal smiled his sharp grin. “What if you were wrong?”

  “I wasn’t.” I mirrored his smile. I glanced at Thelma and saw her reach into her bag. I shook my head slightly.

  “What I don’t understand,” I told the demon, “is why. Elnora obviously summoned you, but now that she’s dead, what do you have to gain? Once Azazel goes back to his prison, you’ll be considered rogue, and I don’t think Michael will be too pleased when he gets back.”

  “Is this the part where I tell you my plans, little monkey?” Baal asked with a laugh.

  I stayed silent. I knew he would talk. His kind always did. He was proud of what he had planned, and no demon in his right mind could resist rubbing the little monkey’s face in it.

  “You are so smug,” he hissed. He then regained his composure. “Ten years ago, delicious Elnora summoned me to help her husband’s career,” Baal told me. “But you already know that.”

  “You granted her wish, but slowly ate away her soul,” I said.

  “Oh, there wasn’t much soul to begin with. She was such a delicious woman…it’s too bad she had to die.” He waved a hand.

  I could hear Thelma breathing heavily beside me. I reached over and she took my hand. I’m not sure if I did it for her sake or for mine.

  “And all this was happening while I helped the divine ones hunt down the rogue. You see, somehow Azazel managed to disappear, something unheard of in the history of time itself. Michael was so beside himself that I almost wished the Grigori was never found. But then it came to me…if Azazel could disappear, so could I.”