Institutionalized (Demon Squad Book 10)

by Marquitz, Tim

  Institutionalized

  Book Ten in the Demon Squad Series

  Tim Marquitz

  © 2016

  Cover art and design by Shawn T. King

  STK•KREATIONS

  Created in the United States of America

  Worldwide Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form, including digital, electronic, or mechanical, to include photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the author, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

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  Special thanks to Ani, Vix, and Steve. Y’all rock.

  Institutionalized

  Demon Squad 10

  Also Available from Tim Marquitz

  The Demon Squad Series

  From Hell (Novella)

  DS1 - Armageddon Bound

  DS2 - Resurrection

  Betrayal (Intro short to At the Gates)

  DS3 - At the Gates

  DS4 - Echoes of the Past

  DS5 - Beyond the Veil

  DS6 - The Best of Enemies

  DS7 - Exit Wounds

  DS8 - Collateral Damage

  DS9 - Aftermath

  To Hell and Back - A Demon Squad Collection (books 1-3)

  The Blood War Trilogy

  Dawn of War

  Embers of an Age

  Requiem

  Clandestine Daze Series

  Eyes Deep (novella)

  Influx

  Standalone Fantasy

  Dirge

  Witch Bane

  War God Rising

  Dead West

  Those Poor, Poor Bastards

  The Ten Thousand Things

  Omnibus 1

  Horror

  Prey

  Serial

  Skulls

  Heir to the Blood Throne: Inheritance

  Collections

  Tales of Magic and Misery

  Non-Fiction

  Memoirs of a Machine – w/John MACHINE Lober

  Grunt Style: The Blue Collar Guide to Writing Genre Fiction

  Anthologies

  Blackguards (Ragnarok Publications)

  Unbound (Grim Oak Press)

  SNAFU: Survival of the Fittest (Cohesion Press)

  SNAFU: Hunters (Cohesion Press)

  SNAFU: Future Warfare (Cohesion Press)

  SNAFU: Black Ops (Cohesion Press)

  In the Shadow of the Towers (Night Shade)

  Neverland’s Library (Ragnarok Publications)

  At Hell’s Gates 1&3 (Charity)

  American Nightmare (Kraken Press)

  Corrupts Absolutely? (Ragnarok Publications)

  Widowmakers (Charity)

  That Hoodoo Voodoo, That You Do (Ragnarok Publications)

  "Trigg isn't just a breath of fresh air, he is a damn hurricane, and he certainly swept me off my feet. It didn't take long for him to become my favorite underdog ever, despite all his flaws." –The Nocturnal Library

  "Witty, sarcastic and hilarious.” –Michelle at Publisher’s Weekly

  "Inevitably, I end up comparing this series to the Dresden Files and it really does make sense. Both are first person, both have a down-on-his-luck protagonist who's always the worse for wear in pretty much any situation and both tend to be humorous. But, for my money, the Demon Squad series beats the Dresden Files any day." –Only the Best Sci-fi and Fantasy

  "We need more books like this one, bringing a fresh voice to the urban fantasy genre…” –Bastard Books and Other Crap

  "I can't imagine getting tired of this series, because the stories are smart and the characters completely addictive. This entire series has become a keeper for me, and I can't wait to see what kind of trouble Frank lands in next." –BookWenches

  "Tim Marquitz again shows why the Demon Squad series is his best work…” –Fantasy Book Critic

  "Half anti-hero, half asshole, Frank is simply a great character to have tell a story." –Wag the Fox

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Bonus Material – War God Rising

  Bonus Material – Damaged with Timothy W. Long

  About the Author

  Kickstarter Thanks

  Institutionalized

  Demon Squad 10

  One

  After all I’ve been through lately—Karra’s murder, the love of my life and mother of my child, killing the ex-wife, a woman I cared about in my own weird way despite everything she’d done, losing Michael Li somewhere in all the chaos, not to mention the fistful of karmic debts I’d racked up in the aftermath of those moments—I figured I was due for a bit of an emotional holiday before I consigned myself to the government’s mercy.

  “Hello, Triggaltheron.”

  Clearly, I figured wrong.

  “Well look who it is.” And I did, mainly because he was behind me and it made me nervous. Disappointment comes in all sizes but this was the granddaddy whopper of them all. Like unwrapping a Christmas present to find hand me down underwear no one bothered to wash.

  Lucifer stood before me, regal and superior as always.

  I so wanted to punch him in his smug mouth.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere, saving the multi-verse or some shit, Acroyear?”

  “And here I was thinking you might hold a grudge after our last encounter,” he said. “Glad to see I was wrong.”

  “You wrong? That’d be a first.”

  I turned from the desk where I’d been gathering my things to drop off with Scarlett and Katon, not that there was much. Just some odds and ends of Karra’s and a contract written in my blood that would allow Abigail to assume ownership of Hell should she ever decide she wanted it. All in all, it was a piss poor inheritance on the emotional side of things. At least it came with a metric ton of cash and property. That had to mean something, right? I’d have traded my dad for a Klondike bar.

  “How’d you get in here, anyway?” I asked. “Thought I’d changed all the locks to keep the riff-raff out.”

  He wiggled his fingers, red sparks dancing at the tips. “You didn’t actually think I’d hand Hell over without some way to slip back inside, did you?”

  “You came in my back door? And you wonder why people don’t trust you.”

  Lucifer grinned, his teeth gleaming. Hence the nickname the Morning Star. Well, one of the reasons for it, at least. He puts the best used car salesmen to shame with that chrome smile of his. Tell the guy a few off-color God jokes and you could turn off half the lights in your house and save big on the electric bill just off the shine.

  We stared at each other for a long moment, him playing up the mysterious arrival bullshit while I simply fought the urge to ask him what the hell he wanted so I could get on with my day and get him gone. His popping in out of nowhere couldn’t be a good thing. Not for me, at least.

  While
he’d traded in the Mad Max gladiator outfit he had on the last time I saw him for a tailored suit, which pigeonholed him as a hitman or lawyer, he’d kept the murderous sleekness of his appearance. Gone was the doting old man of Social Security age who looked as if he was owned by a half dozen cats. He’d whitewashed his skin a bit to get rid of the stereotypical redness he liked to portray but he still wore his jet black hair long, a Mohawk slicked tight to his scalp and hanging down his back in a thick braid. The sides of his shaved skull gleaned in the cavern’s light. He’d also taken to wearing a goatee, the beard just as black as his hair and nearly as long. It hung to mid-chest and was held in place by a half-dozen silver clasps in the shape of serpents eating their own tails. Tiny crimson eyes stared out from each, following my every move.

  “Looking snazzy. Devil’s Wearhouse?”

  He circled around the desk and ran his fingers along the edge of it, his dark eyes going to the document on top of the pile of junk.

  “Who is Abigail?”

  It sank in right then that he had no idea about the kid. “Uh, yeah, she’s your, uh…granddaughter actually.”

  His eyes narrowed and I could see the wheels in his skull turning. “How King Diamond of you.”

  I chuckled at the reference. “Didn’t realize you knew who he was.”

  “What? You don’t actually believe that LaVey fellow was his only inspiration, do you?”

  “But you’ve been gone forever. He would have only been—”

  “A child, yes,” he answered, cutting me off. “Where do you think he got that marvelous voice from?” Lucifer grinned. “Some deals are better than others. “The Oath” was such a fetching tribute.” Before I had the chance to contemplate what he was implying, his gaze dropped back to the paperwork again. A sneer peeled back his upper lip. “This is a will, Triggaltheron. What is it you’re doing that has you so concerned?”

  “Last I checked you gave up the right to ask me questions like that, Daddy-O.”

  “Give it a rest,” he said, the first hint of frustration sparking in his voice. He stared at me from the other side of the desk, his palms flat on the face as he leaned my way, splitting his gaze between me and the stuff I’d assembled. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to bicker with you or assert some parental prerogative.”

  “Good thing.”

  He drew in a dramatic, deep breath—the same one he used to take when I was a kid to let me know I’d gone too far and he was contemplating killing me—and let it out slow. I could imagine him counting quietly to himself to regain control. It made me smile.

  It’s the little things in life.

  “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you on Feluris but there were things I did not wish to have God overhear or understand. I had to be—”

  “Wait! Did you just say you were ‘Sorry?’” I glanced around for the hidden cameras and a TV show host waiting to pounce out and yell, ‘You’ve been Punk’d!’ “Wasn’t even sure you knew that word let alone the context of how to use it.”

  “Are we going to do this back and forth thing the entire time?” he asked, wagging his finger between me and him.

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “Damn it, Triggaltheron!” he slammed his hands on the desk, rattling it and sending everything piled there skittering to the floor. As far as tantrums went it was pretty tame considering what he was capable of. “I’m trying to speak with you man to man.”

  “All right.” I raised my hands to pacify him. “You want to talk, we’ll talk. I’m not sure what you expect from me though.”

  “Very little, to be honest, but I’ll endeavor to persevere regardless.

  I chuckled, laying my forearm across my brow and pretending to swoon. “Oh, woe is me, my son is a failure and an asshole. What will I ever do?” I said. “Good thing we’ve decided to quit picking at each other like pissed off crows.”

  He shook his head. “Look, boy, I didn’t come here to fight with you, as much fun as I remember it being. I came here to prepare you.”

  “Little late for the birds and the bees talk, Dad. Got that one nailed. Pokey thing slides in hole and goes squeeeeeee.” I emphasized my knowledge with a flashy hip motion. No doubt he was impressed. “I can show you the kid as proof if you need me to. She looks just like me I’m sad to say.”

  Lucifer sighed and, as much as I wanted to keep chipping away at his patience to make myself feel better about all my childhood trauma, I figured it was time to let it go.

  “Fine. Why are you here, oh great Satan?”

  He raised an eyebrow as if deciding whether or not to keep the antagonism going and clearly determined it wasn’t worth it. “A couple of reasons, actually. The first is the easiest.” He paused, likely expecting me to make a joke. I resisted and he continued after a moment of awkward silence, each of us daring the other to break the supposed truce. “The book I gave you to look after, and the gem, as well. I need those.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” I shrugged. “You’ll have to take the book up with Metatron, I’m afraid. He has it and the cipher.” Well, the one Ilfaar had brought into the Interstice, at least.

  “What?” He looked ready to leap over the desk and throttle me but instead he dropped into the leather chair behind him and just stared, his hands clasping the arms, knuckles whitening.

  “As it turns out, which I’m sure you knew already, that gift of yours opens up God’s little vacation prison away from home. Seems it wasn’t move-in ready so I had to evict a few folks. They weren’t very appreciative of my efforts.”

  Lucifer groaned. “I hadn’t meant for you to use the damn thing, Triggaltheron.”

  “Well, I hadn’t intended to but you see there was a bit of a hitchhiker riding in my brain pan and he had other ideas.” I tapped my temple. “It seems Azrael is quite the charmer when he’s squirting angst in your ear. Who knew?”

  “Damn it! I thought I’d scented him when you came to Feluris but the taint was so miniscule I believed I’d only imagined it.”

  “I wish. He not only moved in, he started renovating the place.”

  Lucifer leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, cupping his cheeks in his hands, though he never stopped glaring at me. “Your questionable mental health aside, do I want to know how the book and cipher ended up in Heaven?”

  “Probably not.” But I told him anyway, leaving out the part about me having a second cipher stashed away for a rainy day. As often as I ended up there lately, I wanted it on standby, just in case.

  He sunk lower in the seat as the story progressed. By the time I finished he looked ready for a drink. I was a good kid, believe it or not, and offered him one, scrounging up some whiskey and dumping a bunch in a tumbler. He took the glass without a word and swallowed it down. I set the bottle beside him as he didn’t look finished. He wasn’t. Lucifer poured himself another one, a full glass this time. It wasn’t until he’d taken a few more sips that he looked ready to continue.

  “Perhaps I’ve come at a good time then.”

  “Uh, how do you figure?” I asked. “Sounds to me more like you weren’t listening if you think this is a good time to be anywhere near Earth. The whole world is going to shit.”

  “Oh, I heard you,” he answered, “and rest assured, I have no intention of spending a moment here longer than necessary. I’ve a mission of my own to accomplish on Earth but it sounds as if you have your hands full and could use some help.” He finished his second glass and climbed to his feet. “I’d hoped to collect the book and cipher before anyone realized you had them but that’s no longer a concern. Heaven would never dare put them to use, cowards that they are, so they are as safe there as they would be anywhere.” He shrugged but didn’t bother hiding his annoyance. He wanted them more than he was letting on. “As such, I’ll move on to the other, more important, reason I’ve come.”

  “More important than the key to an otherworldly prison that just happens to hold a bunch of ancient deities from before God’s time, destined to br
eak out and wreak havoc? No, that’s not ominous at all.”

  He shook his head, clearly not interested in entertaining my cynicism, and waved me out of the room as if beckoning a puppy. I’d have gotten mad and said something about it if I hadn’t so willingly followed him out of habit. Some things never change.

  Without appearing bothered by all the adjustments I’d had the dread fiends make to the layout of his—my—chambers, he walked on, steering us away from the DRAC folks in residence and toward an area I had no cause to visit before now. If Hell were a house this part of it would be the cold, scary basement of doom where no one wants to go and the roaches run wild. He slid his hand along the wall as if looking for the right spot and all I could think of was Edgar Allan Poe and, by association, Judas.

  “You’re not looking to stuff me in a hole and twiddle your thumbs to the beat of my heart, are you?”

  He chuckled. “I will admit to having contemplated it over the years but no, Triggaltheron, today is not the day I give in to my baser instincts and snuff you out of existence.”

  I didn’t know whether to be happy I wasn’t gonna end up as a part of the foundation or disturbed that he’d thought about it before I brought it up. It was probably best to not dwell.

  “Ah hah,” he said, offering up a Cheshire grin. Before I could ask what he was going on about the wall shifted under his fingers and a huge slab of it seemed to melt away, revealing a deep alcove I’d never known existed.

  “That’s interesting. It would have been nice to know about this place and whatever others you have stashed about before you left, you know?” Would have been a hell of a party room back in the day.