Institutionalized (Demon Squad Book 10)

by Marquitz, Tim

  I ran at her, screaming, willing magic into my own hand so I could deflect hers. She glanced up at me, sneering as if she could smell me—I was pretty damn ripe—and shifted as if she would unleash her fury on me instead of the demon at her feet.

  That was her first mistake.

  Turned out to be her last, too.

  Thud grabbed a handful of her robes and yanked his arm back. Caught up in her garments, Synamon was airborne in an instant, careening over Thud’s head, only to crash head first into the hard ground at his back, a reverberating thump resounding. Stick a fork in her, she’s done.

  “Ohhhh, damn,” I muttered, watching the impact. Given the angle of her head in relation to her shoulder, whatever fight she had in her had just got up and went.

  “The portal is closing,” Rachelle shouted, her voice saturated in strain. “I can’t stop it. Someone inside is forcing it sealed.”

  “Ereshkigal,” Veronica stated. “I can feel her energies fighting yours.”

  “I can’t hold it for long, Frank,” Rachelle told me. “She’s winning.”

  “Nergal’s headed our way.” While Veronica’s voice was as icy as the plain we stood on, there was no mistaking the urgency in it.

  The gargoyles must have felt the same thing. They dove through the gate together, disappearing into the rapidly shrinking darkness.

  Now would be a damn good time.

  Thud cried out, and I spun about to see Shaw hovering over him, her claws at his throat, blood already flowing from where she’d sunk them in. Still, Thud was alive, that meant she hadn’t wanted to kill him. Not just yet, at least.

  “You will not cheat me, Trigg,” she shouted, spittle flying. Poor Thud. “Bring me Maximus and Venai and I’ll spare Thud.”

  I stepped toward her, hands in the air, trying to buy time.

  “I-I can’t hold it anymore.” A painful weariness had seeped into Rachelle’s voice. She was losing it.

  “This will kill her, Frank,” Rahim cut in. He wouldn’t let me put her at any further risk. “I won’t let her be hurt. We’re done here.”

  Damn it! If ever there was time for you to be here, now is it! I screamed in my head.

  Then the portal froze in place, its circumference little more than the size of a basketball. I heard Rachelle sigh through the link, contact broken as she slipped unconscious, yet the portal reversed itself and began peeling open once more.

  “Oh, hell,” Veronica muttered.

  “In the flesh,” Lucifer said as he appeared. “It appears you could use some assistance.” He turned his gaze on Shaw, who had frozen in place at his arrival. “Forgive my interruption, dear lady. You can resume killing the demon pup there in a moment.”

  The portal to Irkalla rippled wider, then shimmered to a halt as Lucifer went over to it, staring into the blackness. “How close are they?” he asked, and Veronica seemed to know he was talking to her.

  “They’ll be at the portal soon.”

  “Then I suspect now is as good a time as any.” He waved a hand and a second portal ripped open beside him. Without even looking, he stuck a hand inside and drew out a large, metallic cylinder, a red star printed on its side. The cap and tail were open, exposing the wires and mechanics inside.

  “What the fuck, Frank,” Grace shouted into my skull. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It’s exactly that,” I answered aloud. “Extreme measures and all that.”

  Lucifer chuckled and deposited the bomb inside the gate leading to Irkalla. It vanished right after. Then he summoned a tiny ball of energy and tossed it in afterward, the gate glimmering blue for an instant before sewing shut in a hurry. “Fire in the hole,” he said, offering up a wink.

  I braced for an explosion I knew I wouldn’t feel, but I couldn’t help it.

  It’s not often a guy unleashes a nuclear bomb on a pair of gods.

  “I’ll see you in Hell, Triggaltheron,” Lucifer told me, giving me the barest of waves. If I hadn’t been his son, I might have felt threatened. Nah, who am I kidding? Even now, despite everything, I still had goosebumps. “Oh, and do carry on, my dear,” he said to Shaw. “I’d never stand in the way of a good throat slashing.” And then he teleported away.

  Shaw stood dumfounded, Thud rigid in her claws, unwilling to move, but she didn’t look as if she had the sense to go through with what she started. It was a few seconds before a hint of color returned to her cheeks, though it wasn’t like she had much to begin with. She was only just starting to come out of her fugue so I figured then was as good a time as any to try to keep her from killing Thud, seeing how she seemed oblivious to everything around her. I guess seeing Satan does that to folks.

  I gestured to her, drawing her attention, my finger circling my face as an example. “You have a little…something…right…there.” I pressed my finger to my temple.

  That’s exactly where Kit pressed the barrel of her gun to Shaw’s head. The wight stiffened, realization settling over her. Then Kit pulled the trigger.

  “It’s gone now,” I said, but I doubt Shaw heard me.

  Epilogue

  As it turns out, you can’t beat up and kidnap your boss without being fired.

  Who knew?

  Thus ended my career in government. To be fair though, it was probably best for all parties concerned. Not only am I not cut out to be the boss, there’s no way I could manage a budget. Just a few days in charge and I cost the country something like a hundred billion dollars, and that’s not counting the collateral damage after the fact from organizations like Fantasma and the others. They were still out there doing what they do, which was wreak havoc. Every day on the news was another report of some government installation biting the dust in loud booms.

  But my retirement wasn’t all bad.

  Seems Maximus ticked off his bosses and they called him home, wherever that is, because of all the bad PR his choice to put me in charge created. That left the door open for Grace, which was a good thing for everyone involved. She got a healthy pay bump, the team got a leader who knew what the hell she was doing, and I walked away with an ally—though that term is about as loosely applied as Trump’s lips—so it was win all the way around.

  At least until I started another war.

  Anyway, in the spirit of cooperation, I organized a meeting with Grace at the same Mexican restaurant Shaw had met with Chavez. Despite it being a solid location, it was more about the food for me. The burritos were amazing.

  I watched as Grace strolled down the block, Kit tagging along. Both surveyed the scene with furtive glances. Their unintended TV debut clearly hadn’t lessened their paranoia, though I could understand it. People really were out to get them. That’s why I’d come.

  They walked up to my table, Kit plopping down beside me while Grace adjusted a chair so her back was to the wall. Eyes locked on me, her thoughts seemed to swirl in their depths. She didn’t know what to make of my invitation.

  “You know we’re not supposed to deal with you, Trigg,” she told me, all business. “Just being here could jeopardize our positions with the DSI.”

  “Understood. I’ll be quick then.” I set a photo in the center of the table so they both could see it. A copy of the one I’d offered to Shaw, the original buried somewhere in the snow and ice of northern Canada, their eyes were drawn to it. Recognition dawned a moment later and Kit snatched the photo, holding it in trembling hands.

  “Where did you get this?” Not once did she look my way, her focus entirely on the photograph. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  “I took it, actually.”

  “You what?” Kit damn near jumped out of her seat, and only my hand on her shoulder kept her in place.

  “I took it,” I repeated. “About a week ago.”

  Dots of red peppered her cheeks. “You’ve had this for a week?”

  “Things have been a little hectic, remember?” I said, raising my hands, palms out to pacify the outrage I saw growing. “I wasn’t holding out on you, just letti
ng the dust settle.”

  “How come you didn’t tell us?” Grace asked, each word emphasized with ice.

  “Because they were in danger as long as Shaw and Maximus were in play,” I told them, splitting my gaze between the two of them. “The more honest answer, I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure you’d stick around and help me recover Mike and Rala if you knew where your family was.”

  Kit bit back whatever it was she was gonna say, spinning in her chair away from me. A low growl rumbled loose.

  Grace just glared, and I was afraid she would have bored a hole in my cheek with its intensity.

  “If it wasn’t clear before, I’m an asshole,” I said, “but I’m not that much of an asshole.” I stuck a Post-it note to the table, the address of Father Lance’s church written on it.

  Both women turned, staring at the note, eyes narrowing. Kit picked it up, clearly reading it over and over and over until she finally managed to drag her gaze loose and turn it on me. The tears were back, though the fury wasn’t entirely gone.

  “They’ve been well cared for and protected ever since I broke them out of Maximus’s prison. They’ve been told to expect you soon.”

  Kit slumped in her chair, a quiet sob spilling from her.

  Grace drew in a shallow breath and held it. “And my father? I don’t see him in the picture.”

  “Your father is a bit of an ass.” I chuckled. “He decided he didn’t want to hang around so he teleported off to who knows where. I’m sorry,” I told her, “but he’s alive and well and lacking none of his…character.”

  She exhaled hard, nodding as she did. “That would be my father.”

  “I’ve no doubt he’ll find you soon. Or, given your new job, I suspect you might just have the resources to track him down if need be.” I pointed at the sky. “I’d start upstairs, seeing how Biblical he was being last I saw him.”

  “That, too, would be him.”

  “Why did you do this, Frank?” I turned to see Kit staring at me, rivulets of silver staining her cheeks. “Really.”

  I sighed. “Ignoring the delay in revealing it to you, it was the right thing to do.”

  She sobbed again, clasping the picture and Post-it to her chest.

  “Go see your family,” I told her. “Lance is waiting for you.” Then I turned to face Grace. “I have friends who can help hunt your father down, if you need their help.”

  The chair legs scraped against concrete as Grace stood. She put a hand on my shoulder, offering me a gentle smile. “I just might take you up on that offer, Frank.”

  “Anytime.”

  She nodded and slid the chair under the table, looking to Kit. The tech wizard waved her on. “Meet you in the car?”

  “Sure,” Grace agreed, her smiling waning just a touch, disappointment evident in her features at having no one at the church to reunite with, but there was no mistaking the happiness she felt for Kit.

  “Oh, hey, when you get there, mind telling Lance to give me a call? I need his sniffer. Seems in all the chaos, we lost Morgan.”

  “Lost her?”

  “Yeah. I never thought to have Veronica check to see if she was in Irkalla before the big boom. I hope she was, but better safe than sorry, yeah?”

  “Indeed.” She didn’t look all that pleased.

  Couldn’t blame her. I’d been too busy during the fight to notice she was missing. The woman could be anywhere, and that meant things weren’t over just yet.

  “See you in a minute, Kit,” Grace said, likely thinking the same thing.

  Kit nodded and Grace started off down the street, back to wherever they’d parked. Once Grace was gone, and Kit had gotten her emotions under control, she got to her feet, still obviously trembling. She wouldn’t stop staring at me, though she hadn’t said anything. Her face was paler than I’d ever seen it, standing out in stark contrast to all her piercings.

  “You okay?” I asked, getting up and standing alongside her in case she passed out.

  “I am,” she said. “Thank you.” She leaned in and hugged me.

  I stood there like an idiot, not sure what to do, only hugging her back after a few awkward seconds.

  “Thank you,” I told her, figuring she knew for what without my having to bring it up.

  She nodded against my chest, pulling away after a while with a sniff. “I’d…I’d better go.”

  “Yeah…”

  She held up the photo, with the sticky note attached, and clutched it to her chest again, grinning. Then she reached up and wrapped her free hand behind my head and pulled me to her. She kissed me quick on the lips, and then she was off, jogging down the sidewalk to catch up to Grace.

  I just stood there and watched her until she disappeared around the corner.

  It wasn’t until she was gone that I realized I hadn’t even glanced at her ass.

  Given all that had happened, Michael home at last, and Rala back with Vol, I decided it was time to do something I should have done long ago seeing how you just never know what might happen from one day to the next. Feeling nervous, I hovered outside the door, hesitant to ring the bell.

  But when you have an angelic cousin who can sense your presence, the decision ends up being taken out of your hands.

  The door opened and Scarlett stood there, her hands on her hips. “You going to stand out there all day?”

  “Was thinking about it.”

  She shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in, Frank, before you lower the property rates with your lurking.”

  Aaaah, it was good to be loved.

  I went inside and it wasn’t more than a few seconds before a big ball of slippery flesh and skull fragments rolled across the floor and slammed into my ankle.

  “Brrooooother!!!!”

  I snatched up Chatterbox and gave him a big hug, chuckling at the pine tree air freshener pinned to his neck. “Missed you, buddy.”

  He grinned, showing off his array of pearly whites. I blinked, taking them in. “What the unholy fuck?”

  “Language, Frank,” Scarlett told me, waggling a finger.

  I didn’t even bother acknowledging her, transfixed as I was the gleam radiating from CB’s mouth. “You got dentures?”

  His grin widened even further. “Shhhhiiinnny!”

  “Indeed. Rock on, dude.”

  “Look who it is,” I heard Katon say as he joined us in the foyer. I glanced up to see Abigail cradled in his arms, all smiles.

  My heart imploded in my chest, and I felt it melting over my guts. I set CB down and stumbled drunkenly over to the assassin and my child.

  “Sssssoooome heeaadds arrre gonnnnnaa roll,” Chatterbox sang as he circled my feet like a hyper puppy.

  “Hey, Frank,” Katon said, handing my daughter to me.

  “Hey,” I muttered, not sure if I meant it for him or Abigail. It didn’t matter right then.

  I pulled her into a hug, reveling in her warmth and muffled giggles. She squirmed happily, pulling loose so she could tug at the scruff of my beard and tweak my nose. In response, I smothered her with kisses until she nearly peed herself from laughing.

  After she’d settled, she grinned at me, the first of her teeth poking through the gums, and said, “Daaaadddy.”

  I damn near dropped her.

  “Did you hear that?” I screamed, asking everyone in the room and no one at the same time. “She said ‘Daddy!’”

  That she’d learned to speak by mimicking Chatterbox didn’t even click in my head right then. I hugged her to me once more, unwilling to let her go. I never would again.

  “Let’s go home, baby girl. I want you to meet your grandpa.”

  Keep reading for a three-chapter preview of Tim’s comedic dark fantasy novel full of mayhem and mirth:

  War God

  Rising

  Monty Python meets Gladiator!

  Sand is destined for greatness. Or so a pair of two-bit criminals would have him believe.

  After rescuing him from certain doom, Bess and Kaed
e embark on a scheme to game the War God Tournament. It’d be easier if Sand wasn’t an alcohol-soaked twit with a disturbing interest in mutton.

  Pitted against monsters, magic swords, and murderers galore, they soon realize winning the tourney is the least of their worries.

  War God

  Rising

  Chapter One

  “Are you sure we need him, Bess?”

  Kaede peeked out from beneath the low-hanging hood that shrouded his dark features and stared over the heads of the gathered crowd. They screamed and cursed and called for blood, hands raised in clenched fists. The target of their ire stood upon the raised gallows, shirtless and disheveled and looking more drunk than hungover despite the creep of the late afternoon sun. His blond hair was a wild mop atop his head, streaks of red standing out in the light.

  Built like a blacksmith the man appeared shorter than he really was, his head lolling about, his shoulders slumped and back bent. The noose was already about his neck and the soon to be condemned swayed back and forth, only the presence of the rope keeping him upright, his hands bound behind him.

  “Need probably isn’t the right word,” Bess answered, shaking her head, “but if we’re being honest about things we’re kind of running out of options if we’re going to do this. Besides, if you had spied a better candidate in our travels you should have said something sooner.”

  “There was that Djorian sin-eater we came across in Velurn.”

  “Seriously, Kaede? He was a leper.”

  “He still had most of his fingers.”

  Bess groaned. “On one hand maybe.”

  “At least he had some dignity. This one,” he gestured to the man slowly coming to the realization he was about to be hanged, “was found in the mayor’s sheep pen with wool in his mouth and his pants wrapped about his ankles. I’m all for a party but—”