The Pact
Book One:
Sailor Ray and the Darkest Night
Alex Villavasso
Copyright 2016, Alex Villavasso
All rights reserved
This novel is a work of fiction and is a product of the author’s imagination.
All events, places, and characters are either fictitious or portrayed in a fictitious manner. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form except by an authorized retailer or once written permission from the author is received.
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Thank you.
Cover Illustration by Jeff Brown
Cover Typography by Natasha Snow
Editing by Amber Bungo
ISBN-13: 978-1537372433
ISBN-10: 1537372432
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Table of Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1: The Rules
Chapter 2: To Club Hex
Chapter 3: Club Hex
Chapter 4: Caught
Chapter 5: Crossroads
Chapter 6: Hunting and Death
Chapter 7: Humble Beginnings
Chapter 8: Borrowed Time
Chapter 9: Investigations
Chapter 10: Confronted
Chapter 11: The Reaping
Chapter 12: Hostage
Chapter 13: Sailor Ray and the Darkest Night
The Pact Book Two: Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent
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A Note to the Reader
Just Who is Sailor Ray?
About the Author
Looking for More?
Blurb
I suppose I choose this life, but often times I wonder if the choice was really my own. My name is Sailor Ray, and I'm a hunter of all things supernatural. There are others like me, but we all do what we do for our own reasons. Some want to make the world a better place, while others want balance. I want revenge.
On the day my father died, I made a pact with a demon. In exchange for saving me from the same fate as my father, I promised him my body as a vessel, and once my revenge is obtained, my soul is to be claimed by him.
I was only using him, just like he was using me. Neither of us plans to keep our end of the deal. When our pact was first made, he was weak, a dying spirit. Now, as he heals within me, I can feel his presence growing stronger with every passing day. I'm not stupid.
He plans to take over, and I plan to kick him out.
Chapter 1: The Rules
As with anything else in this world, there are rules. As a hunter, a person who makes the world safe against those things that go bump in the night, there’s only one that matters—never hunt alone. I suppose that’s how I got into the situation that I’m in right now. Alone, at one in the morning on a Friday night, slumped on my couch, surrounded in darkness, paired up with a demon.
Through the link we have, he knows when I need him. Scratch that…need is a strong word now that I think about it. More like…have the desire to talk to him when I require his assistance. He takes his time, nine times out of ten, considering there is a thin veil separating him from bonding with my soul.
You called, my sweet?
The hairs on the back of my neck momentarily stiffen as I feel what would be his breath tickle my ear. Disgusting. Especially since he could have chosen to direct his presence elsewhere.
“What did I tell you about calling me that? Ass,” I coldly sound off into the darkness.
There, there. I only came out because you called me.
What feels like a finger slightly brushes down my face and begins to part my brunette bangs to the side. I thrash my head to the side and swat my hand in the direction where his hand would be.
“Don’t be a creeper. I’m not one of your little playthings. I own you. So speak up, Weis, or I’ll put you away until you decide to be a good boy.” Almost instantly, the room grows colder. Obviously, it is Weis showing his disapproval of the pet name, something I couldn’t honestly care less about. In my situation, saying this demon’s real name can open up a window and allow it to siphon more strength from me. I don’t want any more of him committed to me than I have to at this point. It’ll only be harder to get rid of him when the time comes.
So you can call me whatever you want, but I can only call you Sailor?
“That’s Queen Bitch Sailor to you, Bernard,” I say with a smirk. “Look, I didn’t call you out to discuss the politics of pet names with you. It’s my body so I do whatever I want. I say whatever I want. You work for me. Got it?”
For now.
I feel a drop in the pit of stomach and try my best to ignore the inevitable implications of his words.
“Yeah, so until the time comes, it’s fuck you, do what I say.”
I love it when you talk dirty to me.
“Jesus.” The room grows eerily silent as I feel his presence weaken. “Am I doing it right? Thought so. Now here’s the deal. I’m going downtown to do some hunting, and I need some intel. What’s going on tonight?”
Life, he slithers. Again, sounding as if he were whispering in my ear.
I bat my hand behind me, fully aware that I can’t hit him, but I do it anyway because he pissed me off. “No shit, Sherlock,” I say as I stand up from the tan microfiber couch I had sunken into. “It’ll be in your best interest to help me, you know? Demon or not, it’s not always about making someone’s life a living hell.” I fold my arms as I look into the peculiar patch of darkness that is different from the rest of the room, near the corner closest, where my back had been facing.
Oh? Is that so, sweetie?
“Yeah, because if something happens to me, then it happens to you, too, Oswald. So watch my back or else you won’t get your precious body once everything is said and done.” I feel a brief sensation of joy flutter in my gut—his emotions. “Fucking pervert,” I mumble to myself as I walk back towards my room, my sights on the chest at the foot of bed.
I heard that.
“Good. So now you know I don’t like you.” As soon as I step foot into my room, his presence fades. Luckily for me, the seals and wardings that I taught myself growing up are strong enough to keep him at bay while inside my room. The rest of my apartment, though, not so much, due to the connection we have. In a perfect world my wardings would hold up against just about anything.
With him being inside of me, however, I guess he gets a free pass against the weaker wardings… I’m not too sure of the technicalities. Thankfully, I doubled up on my room and then put in a little extra just in case shit got real. If anything were to kill me in my own house, it would at least be human. That, and I can’t stand him constantly going off in my brain. It’s not natural to have a demon taking pot-shots at everything while you’re trying to focus, you know? It’s annoying as hell. The peace on this side of my place is well received. Plus, it’s the only place I know of (that’s mine) that he can’t creep in on me.
“Talk to you in a bit, okay, Stan? I’m getting some supplies!” I sarcastically yell before slamming the door where I imagine his face would be if he were standing there rather than being inside of me.
I hope it broke his phantom nose.
After I shut the door, I stoop down to the wooden chest at the foot of my bed and work to crack the padlock.
“8.2.1.9”
Voila.
The war chest creaks open, and like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to the essentials I’ve taken the time to stock up on. Holy Water, a crucifix, salt, scrolls, and guns. Lots of guns. The usual. Seeing that I have Casper on my side, I only take an extra sidearm, a couple of rounds, and some Holy Water, in addition to what I already have stashed away in my purse on the kitchen counter. I have to pack light for tonight, anyway. Only so much you can fit in when you’re about to head out for a night on the town. Plus, I figure if I can handle myself for the most part without him, with him kinda sorta on my side, I’ll fare well. After all, for him to get what he wants, he needs me. Alive. Especially since he’s using my body as a mobile intensive care unit, planning to collect after he’s made a full recovery. But, of course, I don’t intend for that to happen. The last thing I plan to do is to hand over my body to some demon. Deal or not.
Honestly, I don’t even want to think about it right now. There are more important matters to attend to at this very second, like, for example, what am I going to wear tonight out in the field?
I turn around, face the dark brown dresser directly in front of my bed, and stare into the mirror bolted to its frame. My brown hair is up in a ponytail, loosely fitted around the back. That’ll have to go. To look the part, my hair would at least have to come down, and sporting a forest green military coat, a crop top, and black leggings seems a bit odd. Even for being dead center in the Chi. Above anything else, I need to fit in, so that means that I have to be blonde and skanky. I don’t know. Clubs just aren’t my thing so excuse my saltiness. Blondes are cool. Skanks of both genders are not. Life’s hard. Chicago sucks.
After tussling through my wardrobe for a grand total of five minutes, I realign myself with the mirror and take a final look, even though absolutely nothing has changed since the first time I looked. I’m in my twenties, smart, funny, fit, brunette, and to top it off, I’m damn good looking if I do say so myself. I can wear whatever I want and still turn heads.
Meh. Y.O.L.O. I throw my hands up in the air only to realize the atrocity I had just committed. (I did not just use that as my call to action.) I shake my head in disgust as I part ways with the mirror and outfit myself with my tools for the day. Then I walk back out to the living room.
“Hey…we’re going out tonight. Like, out out,” I say as I walk towards my purse and then sling it over it my shoulder.
Oh, is that so?
My stomach sinks as I feel his presence manifest once again.
“Yeah, to Club Hex…so be cool. Word on the street is that Club Hex is the playground for a new drug one of ya’ll cooked up. Got anything you want to share with the class?”
We’ve influenced the use of many recreational supplements in our time, my dear. Some you probably never even heard of, knowing your walk of life.
“Okay, fair enough.” I cross my arms. “How about the one that comes in a light blue vial…can be drunk or injected, highly addictive, makes you trip balls, and, um, I don’t know, opens you up for possession. How about that one?”
I can’t say that I have, darling. Sorry. But if you do manage to get your hands on some, please feel free to take some for me. I hear it’s all the rage… Not that I know anything about it.
“How about I drink some Holy Water instead? I hear it’s good for the soul. Enough playing dumb. It’s called Sphinx and your pals are the primary distributors. They like to give it to kids who think they’re badass by spending their trust fund money on narcotics and other crazy shit they probably shouldn’t be doing, like that stuff you guys cook up in Hell’s Kitchen.”
And you plan to go alone?
“Yes, I do. And that is why you’re going to tell me everything you know about Sphinx and what to look out for tonight. Because, in case you’ve forgotten, if I die, so do you, and we both don’t want that.”
I see that you’re not familiar with Hell’s infrastructure. We aren’t exactly buddy buddy, as you call it, down below. Different Legions are assigned different tasks. I know nothing of Sphinx, as it was out of my domain.
“Rumor has it that clubs all over the country have been seeing cases like this, and you’re telling me it’s by one head demon? Yeah, I call bullshit. There’s no way something on such a large scale can go unnoticed amongst the ranks.”
Believe what you want. I’m telling the truth.
“You say that like it’s not in your nature to be a dick. Whatever, Alfonse. Hmm…I actually like the sound of that one. Alfonse is your new official nickname. Now, where was I? Oh, that’s right. We’re going and you’re going to play nice.”
Humph. As you wish. It’s not like I can stop you anyway. I just don’t recommend that you go alone.
The darkness that once filled the room lifts like a drape that hung overhead, leaving a quieter dark; one that doesn’t give off the vibe that you are being watched from all angles and smells like a mix between sulfur and cat piss.
“Aw, you do care!” I tease.
I catch myself chuckling at Alfonse’s kind words, but only for a moment. I walk out the door and to my car. Bringing in too many of us at once would cause attention in a club scene. The image of one girl looking for a good time surrounded by a bunch of guys doesn’t set off positive vibrations. But to be fair, going out alone to a potential demon infested bar isn’t exactly kosher. Then again, neither is getting my contacts involved with me when I clearly have a chimp (perverted demon) on my shoulder, especially since making deals is something you’re definitely not supposed to do. If they find out before I can get my story together, or if they find out the wrong way in general, chances are they’ll abandon me. Worst case scenario, they’d think I switched teams and hunt me down. I can’t blame them though, considering I was last seen virtually at death’s door. Like I said before, as with anything else in the world, there are rules. Fortunately for me, I break all of them.
Chapter 2: To Club Hex
The alley where I parked my car was cold, void, and decrepit. A perfect spot to duck in and out of for a quick escape or to lay low if things get hairy. As impractical as it is to actually drive in Chicago, it pays to have a reliable source of transportation when doing jobs like these. Relying on a cab or the subway can get messy when you need to break away, and not knowing what’s out there can prove chaotic in well crowded areas. Imagine running from demons and accidently bumping into a clove of them on the subway. Yeah…that would be one hell of a train ride. Having a jet black 04 Mustang (GT, mind you) prevents me from worrying about those scenarios if I play my cards right. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to have a stash of weapons and supplies loaded in the trunk. You never know what can happen out here.
“So, Alfonse, anything you’d like to report? We’re virtually dead center in one of the most popular places in the country,” I say as I lean against my Mustang. I grab the folds of my jacket and pull them in to my sides. It’s cold out. Way colder than I anticipated. I can’t tell if it’s because of having Al around or if it’s genuinely freezing. In the car it wasn’t nearly as bad. Probably because of the heater. Alfonse didn’t say much either, even though I know he was in the background creeping out to his heart’s content. Well, if he had a heart.
Not long after I called out to him, the lone light bulb that hung overhead flickered as I felt him stir.
Nothing of your concern.
I scoff at him for his childish antics. For a demon that’s several thousand years old, you’d think he’d have his priorities straight. “So you’re telling me that things are in the area but I shouldn’t worry about them. Do I need to remind you that if I go, so do you!?”
That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m just saying that you have nothing to worry about, my dear.
“Gee, thanks. That’s really comforting coming from you. We both know that something’s
out tonight. Not necessarily your old buddies from high school, but definitely things that don’t belong here.”
You’re right. It would be unwise to think that we are alone at such an hour.
“So, out with it already,” I say with a growl. “Whether or not it has anything to do with Club Hex, you should let me know.”
I would, but it seems as though in my current state, I am unable to sense anything.
“No signal on the demon grid, huh? Of course, because having a head’s up would be too easy,” I say as I spot-check my clip for the gun hiding inside of my military coat. “Well, I guess we’re going in blind. Thought today would be different.”
I tuck the clip back into my coat pocket before turning the corner and taking my first string of steps in the windy city. The club isn’t far from where I am right now. Maybe two or three blocks. Still, being alone, exchanging looks with unfamiliar faces, and knowing what’s out there, doesn’t exactly make for a calm heart. It kind of makes me jealous to see other people my age roaming about without a care in the world, while here I am trying to play chaperone, make something of myself, and be responsible.
Feeling envious?
“No one asked you…wait…what? You’re in my head now?” I mumble as I walk with my chin against my chest, bracing against the impact from the coming cold.
No. Just observant.
“Yeah, yeah, thousands of years of existence or whatever.”
Don’t be. You lament over their simple life, but because of their ignorance, they are constantly in danger. Just because you don’t know something, doesn’t save you from it. Often times the unknowing are the perfect targets.
“Thanks…I’ll keep that in mind. I guess.” Life advice from a demon. I don’t know how I should take that. Maybe he’s finally starting to get the picture that if I’m good, he’s good. Yeah, doubt it.
As detrimental as it sounds, I can’t help but think about Alfonse’s words as I continue my walk to Club Hex. As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. If I had the conscious choice of choosing to know or not to know, I’d definitely choose information over ignorance every time. There are so many things out there, and so many things can happen. If I’d had even a minor experience with the paranormal, that alone would set me off on a journey to find out more. Too often people disregard that thing that goes bump in the night or something they think they saw as nothing, all for the sake of preserving what they know their world to be…what they want their world to be. It applies to more than just the paranormal, but to life in general. Take, for instance, Valerie, a friend of mine from high school that managed to follow me up into college. Ironically, she called me on my way over here with her same old shit about how we never hang out, and how she’s always bored and looking for something to do, aka party. I’m not judging. I’m just saying her liberated nature is the same reason she flunked out of college sophomore year. All she wanted to do was party and get wasted, not caring about what was going on behind the booze. She’s cool. I love her, but that’s something I could never put up with. Drowning out your problems with another set of problems only makes things worse. Ironically, the only way to deal with your demons is to fight them.
Sailor Ray and the Darkest Night (The Pact Book 1) Page 1