Around the boundaries of my lawn, a faint flicker or two of magic still lurked, left over from the protective wards that we had deliberately dismantled. I had to feel grateful for that decision, ultimately. It was how Axel had approached, leading my family out the backdoor as death came in through the front.
The wards on the house itself were so much ash to my magic-enhanced sight. It wasn’t just the screen around the front door that had been annihilated, it was the entire protective fabric that had surrounded the house. Where once I would have seen a lacework web of gold, now there was only a dusting of black that was slowly blowing away as the chilly evening breeze drifted in. Almost like blight, I realized, and I shivered despite my warm hoodie.
I’d learned what I wanted to know, however, which was that I was alone. No demons lurked nearby, and the closest magic users were across the street and all familiar to me. Opening my eyes, I whispered one word.
“Henry.”
For long moments, nothing stirred, the last summer birds chirping their goodbyes to the sun. Suddenly, like a switch had been thrown, silence fell, and a small branch of a nearby sapling dipped under added weight.
“James Dawson! Am here!” The creature that perched in the tree looked comical, at first. No taller than my knee, spindly arms and legs topped with a head that was entirely too large, with large moon-round eyes and ears that resembled bat wings. It was gangly and awkward, and hunched its thin shoulders like it expected to be kicked at any moment. Notice the vicious claws on its finger and toes, however, and the mouth full of jagged shark’s teeth, and it wasn’t so cute anymore.
I offered the tiny demon a small smile. “How you doing, Henry?”
My occasional minion hadn’t yet mastered the art of small talk, and he ignored my question in favor of sniffing the evening air curiously. “What has come here, James Dawson? Why are magics gone?” He edged out toward the end of the branch, the limb bending alarmingly under even his slight weight.
“Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about.” I’d…acquired Henry on my trip to Mexico. The small demon was virtually powerless, as far as his kind went, and eager to make any deal he could to better his station. It had been easy to convince him to do me favors now and then, in exchange for some minor boons that I had yet to decide on. This was going to be the first time I’d actually exercised our new bond. I hoped it didn’t come back to bite me in the ass.
Henry left off examining my magically decimated home, and spun himself around to hang from his branch, looking at me upside down. “What talks? What needs?”
I nodded toward my extinguished wards. “Something bad came here, Henry. It was powerful enough to blast right through every ward on this house. I need to know who it was.”
The bat-wing ears drooped noticeably. “Henry does not have this information.”
“I know. I didn’t figure you did. But can you find out?” While I was ninety percent sure that Reina had visited my house today, there was still that little ten percent that said “Are you sure?” Just because Axel had never tested the protections on my home didn’t mean that he wasn’t fully capable of doing exactly this, and he had as much reason to want me rooted out of my safe little den as the next demon.
Did I think that Axel could have faked the whole thing to put me on the run, get me at a disadvantage? Hell yes I did.
The small demon’s ears perked up. “Like a de-tek-tiv?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the sudden enthusiasm on his ugly little face. “Yes, just like a detective. How do you know about detectives?”
Henry wrinkled his nose in puzzlement. “Not sure. See bugs on papers, only now they make words instead of squiggles.”
“You’re learning to read?” Tilting my head, I took a critical look at my odd companion.
Was he a little taller than when I first met him in Mexico? His hunchbacked stoop was harder to see, dangling from a tree as he was, but his knobby back looked a little straighter. And the cavernous mouth, still brimming with wickedly sharp fangs, looked a bit narrower, the jaw a bit more…human. His intelligence had increased, too, as I realized he’d spoken several complete sentences since arriving. Previously, his speech had been broken, childlike. Now, he was mostly understandable.
Henry was evolving.
This was my doing, I knew. However demons began their version of life, there was a definite power hierarchy they had to pass through. As their power grew, their forms would change to reflect that. I had names for the categories I’d encountered, everything from sentient oozes and insect-like critters that I called Snots and Scuttles, to furry mammalian creatures that would eventually grow to resemble humans as much as a demon could. I called those Skins and Shirts.
With just the little bit of power I’d given Henry, nothing more than two of my names, he’d grown. I had to wonder what the hell I was thinking, deliberately making deals with the demonic imp, knowing that I was really just breeding a bigger, badder demon in the long run.
“Will be de-tek-tiv for James Dawson. What will James Dawson give Henry?”
This was the tricky part. I couldn’t give him my third and final name. That was too much, especially when he hadn’t actually given me anything yet. But I’d known this day was coming, and with some help from Estéban on the sly, I thought I had it worked out.
“If – and I mean only if – you return to me with the true name of whatever it was that busted down my front door, I will give you this.” I fished an object out of my hoodie pocket, and held it up in front of his moony eyes.
To anyone watching, it looked like just what it was. A ping-pong ball. White, plastic, fragile, bouncy. But to me, and to Henry, it glowed gold, with bits of red licking the edges like a flame that didn’t burn. What I held in my hand contained a tiny, infinitesimal piece of Estéban’s magic. Not enough to hurt the kid by donating, not enough to really cause anyone any harm if the power escaped.
I admit, I’d tricked the kid into making several of them under the pretext that we were trying to create a vessel that could house the souls I currently carted around. That pretty much put me in the category of “not nice person,” but I hadn’t been able to think of any other way to pay my debts. Mira, Sveta, the others, none of them knew about Henry, and for right now, the tiny demon was my ace in the hole, should I need it.
The ugly creature’s pointed tongue darted out to lick his nonexistent lips, and he edged outward on the branch more, causing it to dip lower. “Where gets?”
“Don’t you worry about where I got it. Do you want it?” I could see that he did. Henry had no poker face to speak of.
“Yesssss….” The big round eyes flared red, the color only dying back to its normal shimmery black in a slow fade. “Bring James Dawson the true name of the spell-breaker, and James Dawson will give Henry the treat.”
“That’s the deal.” Something burned on inside of my left wrist, and I glanced down to see a crude black mark inked across the skin, the red searing edges cooling to nothing as I watched. It was done, then. My first official contract with Henry. Now all I had to do was keep the rest of my household from noticing the tell-tale mark. “And remember, Henry, if the Architect is nearby, you have to wait to reveal yourself until later. I don’t want him to see you.” I didn’t know why the demons called Axel “the Architect”, but the name served to sufficiently intimidate the smaller demon, so I invoked it when I could.
“Henry remembers. Henry will do.” And with a poof of rapidly dispersing blight and the odor of sulfur, he was gone. The sapling branch sprang back into position, the entire tree shuddering as if glad to be rid of that toxic presence.
I pocketed the spell-ball again, then inspected my wrist. I’d been lucky. Most contract tattoos started on the back of the hand, which would have been harder to conceal. At least we were heading into autumn now, and long sleeves wouldn’t be questioned.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and finally let myself be aware of my spiritual passengers. They weren’t ha
ppy. They weren’t happy at all, and once I allowed myself to feel it, the muscles in my back knotted and spasmed hard enough that my head was wrenched forcibly to the right. Gritting my teeth, I rode out the pain, and concentrated on bringing them back under control.
The souls, whoever they had once belonged to, recognized evil when it was nearby, and they hated all demons with the same passion. Even covered by my sleeve, I could see the tendrils of iridescent white as they crawled down my arm, inspecting the black mark burned into my skin. They would touch and recoil, and I could feel the horror and anger radiating from them.
“Sorry, guys. Sometimes, we have to do things we’re not proud of.” It took them a while to settle again, and I started to worry that Mira would come looking for me. There would be no hiding the agitated life force within me from her, and then I’d have some ’splainin’ to do. And she’d probably punch me. I’d deserve it.
Organizing the family exodus was complicated by the fact that we needed to go get Ivan from the airport, and my trusty Mazda pickup only seated two. Sure, I could have gone alone, but even the mere suggestion of it had Estéban shouting and Sveta giving me the silent mercenary look of certain death, so that was a no go. In the end, it was decided that the kid would go, being the only other person I allowed to drive my truck, and I would go along to Dr. Bridget’s with the rest of the menagerie.
I sat in the rear seat of my wife’s Explorer with my two children, watching out the back glass as Estéban sped off in the other direction. My hand was draped over the seat back, fingers brushing the scabbard of my sword, The Way. My house receded into the growing twilight, and as we turned the corner to leave our neighborhood, I had the weird feeling that I wouldn’t be seeing it again. Shivering, I buried my face in my infant son’s hair, breathing in his comforting scent, and I tried not to think for a while.
Chapter 4
Dr. Bridget Smith’s house was a lovely split-level in a pretty housing addition neighborhood, surrounded by manicured lawns and literal white picket fences. Then, my family arrived, and everything descended into mass chaos. The moment the car door was open, Chunk bolted out of the vehicle and made a beeline for a cat across the street. The big oaf couldn’t catch it, of course, and I don’t know that he’d have any idea what to do if he did, but I still had to snatch his leash up and give chase. It was a game for the young dog, keeping his massive bulk just out of my reach with playful whuffs and a wagging tail, and it took me much longer to corral him than I’d hoped. All the while, Sveta leaned against the Explorer with her arms crossed, giving me an amused smirk, and my wife got the children and luggage inside with her usual quiet efficiency.
“No no, don’t trouble yourself, I got this.” I glared at Sveta as I hauled Chunk along behind me, the overgrown pup not the least bit repentant.
The dark-haired woman snorted. “It isn’t my dog. And you could use the exercise. You are getting soft.” She tried to jab me in the ribs, and I deflected the strike from sheer muscle memory. She chuckled. “Still fast, though.”
I wasn’t getting any softer than she was. We’d all taken to a strict workout regimen since returning from Mexico, all of us certain that we’d be fighting again in very short order. Sveta had even started teaching the kid to shoot, producing a disturbing assortment of firearms that she’d apparently had hidden around my home and her person.
Guns weren’t really my thing. Most of them wouldn’t do enough damage to a demon’s physiology to help in a challenge, and the ones that would were likely to take out half a neighborhood block in the process.
But I also knew that there were other things in the world, things that had very real, very physical bodies. Sad, tortured creatures with no souls and no voices, their forms only desiccated shells of who they had originally been. Shapeshifting clay constructs that came on inexorably until the magic powering them could be severed. And men, some evil, some just misguided, who would do a demon’s bidding in the hopes of coming out better than they’d been before. All of those things, you could hurt with a gun. So I let the kid learn, and I said nothing.
Bridget opened the front door to let us in, managing to give me a hug without getting tangled in the lumbering monstrosity’s leash. The good doctor was lovely, as always, her deep brown hair piled on top of her head in a loose bun. Normally, I saw her in her office where she was always dressed in something stylish under her lab coat, but today, she had on yoga pants and a floppy football team sweatshirt that did not belong to our home town boys. I eyed the garment critically and raised a brow.
She rolled her eyes at me. “You can take the girl out of Denver…” She closed the door as soon as Sveta entered, then lead the way toward her spacious kitchen. “Mir’s getting Anna settled in the office upstairs. She was very excited about sleeping on an air mattress, once we told her it was like camping. You and Mir can take the spare bedroom with the baby, but I think Sveta and Estéban will have to make do with the couches down in the living room.”
Sveta had been sleeping on our couch for months, I didn’t think another one was going to upset her any. “Thanks, Bridge. This is just temporary, until we can get the house checked out and stuff.” I let Chunk out into the backyard, hoping the fences would hold if he got too frisky in his new abode.
Bridget gave me a chiding smile. “Stay as long as you need to. You know that.”
“So, uh…where’s Cam?” I hadn’t seen the other man yet, but we were going to need him sooner rather than later.
She nodded toward the door across the room. “Basement. He’s working on that new model train display. You should check it out, Jesse, the detail is amazing!”
Yeah, model trains sounded just…fascinating. With a subtle jerk of my head to Sveta, we both went in search of the other champion.
We found him bent over a table that nearly filled the entirety of Bridget’s basement. It was covered in minuscule trees, and even tinier shrubs, surrounding buildings that could have been shrunk down from real life. Plastic people went about their plastic lives amidst rather nice metal replicas of fifties-era cars, and through it all, the train tracks wound in lazy curves.
I couldn’t quite make out what Cameron was doing to his intricate display, but the magnifying lens over one eye and the pair of tweezers he maneuvered with painstaking care gave him a bit of a mad scientist vibe. His dark hair, normally spiked with gel, was mashed into frantic shapes by the headgear he wore, and he obviously hadn’t shaved in several days, judging by the stubble on his cheeks.
We stood and watched him in silence for long moments, until Sveta sneezed. Loudly. Given that I had never heard the woman sneeze in the six months she’d lived with us, I was certain it was deliberate. Cam startled, but managed to avoid damaging whatever tiny object he’d been working with. Flipping the monocle up, he gave Sveta a flat look. “Et tu, Brute?”
I have no idea what she said in return, since it was in Ukrainian, but the sweet smile on her face belied whatever foul words she had bestowed upon him. They’d only met a couple of times, the priest and the mercenary, but they hadn’t tried very hard to become friends. I mean, I wasn’t always real chummy with Cameron either, but I was at least civil. Most of the time.
In fact, when he removed his headgear and offered me his hand, I shook it quite congenially. “It’s good to see you, Jess. I’m glad no one got hurt.”
“Coulda been worse, that’s for sure.” And because it was right there, taking up the entire room, I was forced to comment on the train display. “This is…impressive.”
Cameron chuckled. “Oh come on, this is the nerdiest thing you’ve ever seen anyone do. Don’t lie.” Well, yeah…pretty much. And I say that, fully admitting that I’ve done some pretty nerdy stuff myself. The tall man shrugged, his sheepish smile turning fond as he gazed over his pet project. “What can I say? I love it. Always have. Never really had a place to set up a good sized display before, y’know? This is the first place I’ve really…settled.”
Cameron had come into our lives
on a mission from the Church, one that should have involved him saving my life, then moving on. But he’d met Bridget in the course of his duties, and though their relationship was complicated in ways I didn’t want to think about, they seemed to be genuinely in love. As far as I knew, Cam had managed to maintain his priestly vow of celibacy, despite living with the good doctor for the last year, and was obviously making plans to stay on a permanent basis. If Cam was conflicted about his commitments to the Church, I was about to throw that dilemma into sharp focus. I only felt a little bad. Okay, not really.
Cam blinked suddenly, and craned his neck to look back up the stairs. “Where’s Estéban?”
“Airport. He had to go pick Ivan up.”
That earned me another blink from the priest. “Zelenko is coming here?”
“This offends you?” Sveta took the last two steps down into the basement, her hand sliding toward the small of her back where she no doubt had some kind of weapon, and her voice almost dripping ice.
Feeling like I’d missed something somewhere, I moved two steps to the side. Sure, I probably should have stayed between them to head off whatever this was, but frankly, she scared me.
Cameron gave me a puzzled look, but I only shrugged in return. I had no idea what had flipped her switch. “Well, no… I was just surprised. I’ve never actually met the man.”
She sneered. “You and your self-righteous sycophants, you are not worthy to lick his boots. A pack of puling cowards, hiding behind your Bibles…”
“Whoa, hey!” Okay, there was being mean to Cam for fun, and then there was downright insulting. And seeing as how I was going to be asking this man for a favor in the very near future, I figured this was the moment to step in. “Maybe take a deep breath or two, Sveta. Cam didn’t do anything to deserve that.”
Her frosty blue eyes wavered between the two of us for a moment, then she growled, “I will go help Mira with the little ones,” and stalked back up the stairs.
A Line in the Sand Page 4