Bounty: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Solumancer Cycle Book 3)

by J. C. Staudt

  “Three days.”

  I’m too tired to argue. “Sure.”

  “You answered too quickly. Three years.”

  “You don’t need three years to experience the culture of New Detroit. There’s enough culture in that city to last twenty minutes, at best.”

  “Very well. Three days. Then I return to my domain.”

  “Fine by me. Although I’m going to be upfront with you here—if the sidhe had her way, the Fae Council would imprison every agent of the underworld they could get their hands on. Think of what it would mean if they captured one of the Seven.”

  Malanx laughs. “The fae? Capture me?”

  “You know how strong fae warding magic is. They could build you a prison you’d need a heavenly miracle to escape.”

  She puffs out her fur-clad chest. “I do not fear them. Bring me into the light, Cade Cadigan. You shall soon know the power of the darkness.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” I give the Demon Princess a wave. “See you topside, Malanx.”

  Malanx grabs a tiny demon off the armrest of her throne and squeezes until its head pops like a grape. “I will await your summons.”

  I turn toward the crowd of demons. “Githryx?”

  The imp flutters to me with his head hung.

  “What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting so weird? I swear, if you’re in trouble and you’re not telling me—”

  “I take you to HQ,” he offers.

  “I don’t want to go to HQ. I want you to take me somewhere else.”

  When Quimby Takkanopoulis opens his apartment door a few seconds later, he’s too disgusted by my appearance to slam it in my face. “Where the hell did you just come from?”

  “You’re not far off. Can I come in?”

  “No. You’ll get… whatever’s all over you… on the carpet. Why aren’t you in disguise?”

  “Long story.”

  “This whole double identity thing is confusing me.”

  “You’re not the only one. If I can’t come in then I’ll stand here and make the apologies I should’ve made yesterday. I know you’re pissed at me, and you’ve got every right to be, and nothing I can say will make it better. But I’m sorry. Sometimes I’m an inconsiderate dick who only thinks about himself.”

  “Sometimes?”

  “Okay, all the time. Quim, you’re my best friend. I know I’m an idiot. It’s one of my many, many faults. The fact is, I need you. I should’ve told you before I met with Trezzo Mogru. I was wrong. I knew you’d be mad at me and I did it anyway. So I just came here to tell you that. I’ll leave now.”

  Quim sniffs the air, studies me and grimaces. “Ugh. It smells like rotten eggs. Is that you?”

  “Kind of.”

  He lifts his eyes toward the ceiling, where Githryx perches above his doorway. “Hi, Githryx.”

  “Hello QuimTak,” says Githryx. “I good to see you.”

  “Why are you here, Cade?”

  I make a small gesture with my thumb and forefinger. “Just a teeny, tiny favor. Super-small.”

  Quim rolls his eyes. “What.”

  “I need an address on a Stephen Sussman.”

  “Carmine’s boyfriend?”

  “Ex.”

  “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

  “I’m not going to hurt him, no.”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Trying to save a bunch of people by doing despicable things.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “Okay, your parents are cambions, right?”

  He squints at me, confused. “Right.”

  “Steve Sussman is bound to a succubus. That means there could already be a little baby cambion on the way. Do you want more people like your parents running around in the world?”

  “What kind of a question is that? Sure, my parents have their problems, but they’re not monsters.”

  “They’re half-demons, Quim. Technically, they’re monsters. Steve Sussman might have a promising career ahead of him, but his personal life’s headed down a dark road.”

  “Kind of like you. Except without the career part.”

  “Okay, get your shots in. Can you get me Steve’s address, or can’t you?”

  “Can you, for once, try not to be one of the most reckless people I know?”

  “Let’s put that in perspective. I’m one of the only people you know.”

  “I know several people,” Quim counters. “I can get the address. I’m just not sure I want to.”

  “You do. Believe me, you do. Steve didn’t find himself in the sexual grip of a succubus by leaving his window open at night. He’s bound to a demon because he invited her. He’s involved with the occult, and he’s my way in. It’s lucky Carmine figured out he was a freak early in the relationship.”

  “Be honest. You would’ve found a reason not to like Steve if he was the most normal guy in the world.”

  “Of course I would’ve.”

  “Are you going to keep sabotaging Carmine’s relationships?”

  “I wasn’t going to sabotage this one. But yes.”

  “So you’re going to drop this whole Arden thing and be Cade again.”

  I stare at him. “I came for an address, not a deep conversation. I’m too tired to make critical life choices right now.”

  “Excuse me for friending.”

  “I appreciate you friending, Quim, but I don’t exactly have all the time in the world.”

  He sighs. “I’ll be right back.”

  “You have any food? I’m starving.”

  Quim’s longsuffering look morphs into a thin dissatisfied smile. “The address and some food. Coming right up.”

  I wait in the hall, dripping underworld goo on the carpet. A few people pass by and give me disgusted looks, but no one says anything. My phone goes off. My hands are filthy and slick with demon blood, so I leave it in my pocket. After a few minutes, Quim appears at the door holding a pair of Pop-Tarts in a foil package.

  I look from him to the package, then back at him. “Feed me, Seymour. Feed me.”

  He winces. “Really?”

  “Please.”

  He tears open the foil and holds out the first Pop-Tart. I think of the dwarf, the human, and the bugbear, popping out of the portal between worlds like wet toaster cakes. This toaster cake isn’t wet or warm, but it’s there. I gobble it out of his hands while he stands mortified, no doubt hoping none of his neighbors see us.

  “Next one,” I beg, swallowing the last.

  Quim is a trooper. There are crumbs and bits of gooey fruity goodness all over the floor, but I eat the second Pop-Tart like it’s the last edible object I’ll ever see and consider licking the rest off the carpet. If I were okay with leaving two bloody handprints in front of Quim’s door, I would. I’m not proud.

  “I texted you the address,” Quim says when I’m done.

  “Got it. What time is it?”

  “Going on six o’clock.”

  “PM? Damn, I was down there a lot longer than I thought.”

  “Down where?”

  “Hours move faster in realm of sin,” Githryx offers.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun, right?”

  Quim loses interest in the question. “Anything else I can get you, master? A palm frond and some grapes, maybe?”

  “It’s okay to be mad at me, QuimTak. Thanks for the info. You’re the brains of this operation, there’s no denying it.”

  “You’re the butt. Be safe out there tonight.”

  “Safe is one thing I don’t have the luxury of being.”

  “Then be careful.”

  I look at him. He’s worried about me, but he’s trying to be discreet about it. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

  A frown of emotion twitches across his eyes. He shoves his tongue into his bottom lip and looks away. “You’re always thinking about what makes you look good. You don’t care if it hurts people.”

  “I do care.
I just don’t always think. I need to start doing more of that. Stay inside and lock your door tonight. And whatever you do, don’t go anywhere near the Gryphon Enterprises campus. It’s going to be a shitshow.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “When have I ever known what I was doing?”

  He smirks, shakes his head.

  “Thanks again.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  When Quim closes his door, I motion Githryx down from his perch. “Can you get my phone out of my pocket?”

  The imp shakes his head quickly.

  “You’re not scared of technology like Mazriel, are you?”

  He darts his eyes. “I scare of what on you.”

  “It’s underworld gunk. I thought you loved this stuff.”

  “Not gunk. Blood.”

  I look down. There’s demon blood smeared along the seam of my jeans pocket. “You were just touching me a few minutes ago when you transported me out of the underworld. What’s so bad about a little demon blood?”

  “Blood have power. Make lose mind.”

  “You’re not going to lose your mind by getting it on your hand.”

  He scowls, then reaches down and slides my phone out. He’s got no clue how to use it, so I guide him through the steps to open the text message from Quim. I read him the address and ask him if he knows where it is.

  “I find,” he says with a nod. He moves to grab me and hesitates, glancing at the blood with fresh reluctance.

  “You’d better get over your aversion quick. We’re about to summon the biggest, baddest demon of them all.”

  Chapter 25

  Steve Sussman lives in a big house in Grosse Pointe with a guest building and a pool in the backyard. I could get used to being blinked around by Githryx, except for the nauseous feeling and the clouds of sulfuric smoke which leave me coughing and gasping for breath. My fatigue has begun to fray the edges of my sanity. I’m seeing everything in tunnelvision. Sleep, my body keeps telling me. Shut your eyes. Scrub those thoughts from your mind and wipe that smile off your consciousness. Drown in dream and leave your worries behind. But if I sleep, the nightmares will come. And I’ve got a few nightmares of my own to hand out first.

  Githryx and I materialize behind the white late-model Porsche on the long concrete driveway beside Steve’s house. I lean into the vehicle on my way toward the backyard, smearing a healthy dose of hell-garbage across the passenger side. The pool is all clean and ready for Memorial Day and the start of summer, so after convincing Githryx to remove everything from my pockets I hop in with a splash.

  It’s cold, and it snaps me awake faster than any cup of coffee ever could. Even better, the encrusted slime and debris leeches off me into the pool’s clear chlorinated perfection. This is only the first of the many gifts I’ll be giving ol’ Stevie tonight. I swim around a bit, scrubbing my clothes to wash off the gunk before splashing up the stairs to dry land. Steve is standing outside his sliding glass door in a button-down dress shirt and business slacks holding a pistol at his side.

  “Hey,” he shouts. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Hey, Steve. Remember me? Of course you don’t. Apologies for the mess. I was just welcoming myself to your humble abode.”

  “Look what you did to my pool.”

  “Didn’t have time for a shower.” I take a step toward him.

  He raises the gun.

  “You don’t want to do that,” I warn. “We’re going to have a good time together tonight, you and me.”

  “No way, man. You can’t just show up here and—”

  “You’ve been having dreams. Sexy-time dreams where a woman of enchanting beauty ravishes you in your bed and leaves without a trace. But I think you realize these aren’t dreams. And I think the dreams are turning into nightmares. Maybe things get out of hand sometimes. Maybe she likes putting certain things in places you don’t like them to go. Maybe you wake up in a cold sweat, with a sore prick that feels like it’s been inside the burning throat of a volcano. And maybe—just maybe—your mysterious lover is actually a she-demon awoken by your fascination with the occult. A fascination so unhealthy that your real relationships have suffered as a result. That sound about right?”

  He frowns. “You think you’re some kind of psychic?”

  “Nope. I just know a lich who’s up on her forensics. Now, if you could go ahead and put the gun down, I’d appreciate it. We’re not going to kill each other. We’re going to help each other.”

  “How are you going to help me?”

  “I’m going to get the succubus off your back. Or your dick, as the case may be. Mind if I come in?”

  “I don’t know you, man. I’m not letting you in my house.”

  “Then I guess you’re going to deal with her yourself, huh? Or wait until her ravenous sexual appetite runs its course.”

  He purses his lips. “You can help me get rid of her?”

  “Banishing demons is a specialty of mine.”

  “And what do you want in return?”

  “Let’s just say I’m better at banishing them than summoning them, and I need you to tell me everything you know about the latter.”

  He lowers the gun. “Not much, honestly. I’ve had a casual fascination with the spirit world for years, but nothing this real has ever happened to me before.”

  “When did it start?”

  “The fascination, or the nighttime stuff?”

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

  Steve looks around. “You can come inside, but don’t go on the carpet.”

  “Great. Let me just grab my stuff.” I gather my things from the grass where Githryx dropped them. He’s hiding in a stand of bushes beside the house, peering out at me.

  “What you want I do?” he whispers.

  “Wait here. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  The pool may have washed the demon blood from my skin and clothes, but the blood I lapped up from Malanx’s pedestal is working its way through my system. Though my tired bones are crying out for rest, there’s a power stirring within me.

  I enter the house and shut the sliding door, then stand dripping on the kitchen tile while Steve brings me a towel from the next room. When I’ve dried off, the cream-colored towel is stained with the yellows and browns and offensive smells of a landfill in hell. “Sorry about that,” I tell him.

  Steve winces. “How did you get so dirty? You look like you’ve been digging around in a garbage dump.”

  “It was more like swimming, but yeah. It’s been a rough week. Let’s focus on your experiences with the spirit world, as you call it. Tell me where it all started and how you think you ended up with a demon slut in your bed.”

  Steve lays a plastic trash bag across one of the chairs so I can sit at the table with him. “Well, I grew up in a deeply religious home. My parents forbade me from messing around with this kind of stuff. The tiniest mention of witchcraft or magic usually earned me a beating. You could say I had a sheltered childhood, and that’s being generous. So I did a lot of rebelling when I was in high school. They sent me away to military school my senior year. That was when I got really deep into it. Anything my parents would’ve hated, I did. To this day, they still don’t know the half of it. Even as an adult, I’ve been too ashamed to tell any of my friends about my interest in the spirit world because I’m scared they’ll think I’m some kind of weirdo. The other day I opened up to this girl I’ve been dating about it and she flipped out on me. We haven’t spoken since.”

  I’m glad Carmine knows better than to hang around a guy with ties to the occult. I wonder how she’d feel knowing I’d been to the underworld in search of a demon princess. “Tell me about how and when the nighttime stuff started.”

  “My older sister passed away last year. We’d always been really close, and her death hit me really hard. I started reading up on séances and speaking with the dead. A few months ago I started looking around at pagan and new age comm
unities in the area; people who were involved with carrying out rituals and that sort of thing. I’m not talking about Ouija boards. I’ve been there and done that. I mean like serious voodoo. Black magic kind of stuff. So I go online and find this group that meets at this guy’s house to perform spells and incantations. I start going every few weeks, hoping to contact my sister. The last time I went, some super weird shit happened. We’re doing this séance that’s supposed to be able to channel your emotional connections with a lost loved one. Anyway, I start to feel this dark presence in the room. I remember the feeling of it. It wasn’t my sister. It was something else, hanging over me, like draped over my body like a big heavy blanket. That night when I went to bed was when the dreams started.”

  “Sounds like you called the spirit world and dialed the wrong number. Not uncommon for people who don’t know what they’re doing. You want my advice? Stop messing around with this stuff. It might’ve been an intriguing superstition when you were a kid, but it’s dangerous. And it isn’t happening in your imagination.”

  Childlike wonder writes itself across Steve’s face. “So the supernatural world is real.”

  “Just between you and me? Yeah.”

  He smiles. “I knew it. I knew there was a way to reach out and touch the places beyond death.”

  “Just because there’s a way to do it doesn’t mean you should. Humans have this curiosity about what’s waiting for us when we die. What will it be like? Is there a purpose to our lives, or is the human condition the result of random evolutionary chance? Trust me, you’ll find out when you go down for the big dirt nap. It’s not worth opening doors you shouldn’t look behind.”

  A frown. “But you said you wanted me to tell you how to summon demons. How come you get to open doors and I can’t?”

  “Because I know how to close them.”

  His expression changes. “Who are you?”

  My cell phone rings. It’s Ryovan. “I should take this. Be right back.”

  I pick up and step outside.

  “Cade, where are you?”

  “Working on a solution.”

  “For what?”

  “Irys Montrovia.”

  “You’d better get down here quick. There’s going to be a crossing tonight. A big one.”