by Tim Marquitz
“Nope, but it doesn’t matter what you do. By the time you find Eve, assuming you’ve tracked down Lilith’s rib, which I doubt, it’ll be too late. By then, the storms will have devastated Earth and you along with it.” Pretty much damned no matter what I did, I smiled at Grumpy. It was a gallows smile, empty of any real emotion, but it was the best I could do given the circumstances. “While this might come off as a little defeatist, I’m thinking I’m just gonna hang out and watch the plans of wolf and bear crumble down around us. Got any popcorn?”
At that point, I really didn’t care what happened because the nuts-in-a-bear-trap look on Grawwl’s face made it all worthwhile. No threat he could think of would change my mind and he knew it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my mother cheered. That made things a little easier to bear, no pun intended.
Grawwl spun and went back to the audience of werewolves who circled around him, gathering close to hear what he had to say. They grumbled and howled as they discussed their plans, until at last the majority of them began to nod. Grawwl turned back to us, his snout pulled back to show his monstrous teeth.
“Before we’re done, everyone you know and love will die.”
“How about you start with me?”
If I hadn’t recognized the voice, I would have thought Barry White had come to rescue us.
Every head in the room-except mine-snapped to see Rahim standing less than twenty feet from us. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his hands shimmering with red energy that danced along his fingertips. His smile beamed as though he had a miniature lighthouse on his face. He’d gotten the drop on the weres and he loved it.
The werewolves loosed a symphony of guttural howls and leapt toward Rahim. His smile only got wider as he unleashed his magic. The first rabid wave disintegrated just like you’d see in a nuclear war movie, blown backwards in a vaguely humanoid puff of dust. Most of the pack scattered to weather the storm, the second wave bursting into flames before them. The rank stench of burnt fur rose up thick.
All of a sudden, I had a feeling of weightlessness. I glanced down to see the floor beneath me was disappearing, a whirling blue vortex opening in its place. As I started to fall, I saw the same type of portal opening up below Scarlett and Katon. His eyes were wide despite the swelling.
I looked back quickly to see Rahim stumble as his power gave way, his wide grin replaced by an agonized snarl. He’d expended too much energy for his battered body to handle.
The very last thing I saw before my vision turned blue was Grawwl plucking the wizard out of the middle of the howling pack, his dagger-like teeth sinking deep into Rahim’s shoulder.
The closing of the portal silenced Katon’s helpless scream.
Chapter Thirteen
The void swallowed me for two agonizing heartbeats, then Katon’s ragged voice exploded, made even louder by the confined room we were dropped into.
Though I still couldn’t turn my neck to see where we were, the almost overpowering scent of old books made it obvious. We were in Abraham’s office at DRAC. Rachelle, who had violated every security protocol DRAC had by bringing us there, stood in view, leaning against Abraham’s desk. Her moist eyes were locked on something behind me.
“Free me!” Katon shrieked, a razorblade sharpness to his voice. “I have to help Rahim.”
Abraham shushed him, his breath hurried and shallow. Unable to see him, I could only imagine he was freeing the enforcer from the tangle of ropes that held him immobile. After a moment of grunts and swearing complaints, there was a dull thud, then Katon popped into sight, stopping just inches from Rachelle.
“Send me back!” He reached and grabbed her by the arms, stooping so their eyes were aligned. “Please, send me back.”
Pity was draped across her face as she looked down, unwilling to meet his gaze.
“No,” Abraham’s answer was forged in steel.
Katon released Rachelle and spun, the begging sadness transforming into deep-lined rage. “What? How dare you? After all Rahim ha-”
Abraham appeared, silver tears leaking out from beneath his glasses. Fearless in the face of the enforcer’s fury, Abe wrapped his hand around Katon’s neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads thumped together.
“You think me heartless? See for yourself.”
Katon went rigid, the raging glimmer in his eyes melting away into a blank stare. His arms dropped to his sides as Abraham pressed his vision into his mind. Katon’s hands opened and closed spasmodically, then they went limp. His shoulders slumped as his resistance gave way with a whispered sigh.
“Do you understand now? He sacrificed himself so that you would live. He would have it no other way.”
A quiet sob slipped from Katon, so horribly pitiful I felt my eyes moistening in sympathy. He collapsed into Abraham’s arms. The old man held him close as Katon broke down. Tremors racked his body so violently that Abe struggled to keep them on their feet. They swayed in each others arms in the dance of sorrow.
I couldn’t watch it. Unable to turn away, I closed my eyes and thought of porn.
It makes me happy, all right?
Some people think of home, others of their loved ones or a song that always makes them smile. Me, I think about boobs. It’s a primal thing encoded in male demon DNA, so don’t judge me.
After a while, Katon composed himself and I dared to open my eyes. He separated from Abraham and squeezed the old man’s shoulder before looking over at Scarlett. Already emotionally battered, I could see the guilt on his face as he realized he’d been so caught up in mourning Rahim that he’d left her tied up, unconscious, and bleeding on the floor.
Hoping to spare him, I called him over. “I’ve got a vial of my,” I caught myself, “of Lucifer’s blood in my pocket.” Abraham looked at me with an eyebrow raised, but said nothing. He knew when to let things lie.
A look of relief flashed across Katon’s face and he rushed over and gently slipped his hand into my pocket. It was probably a good thing I was numb from the neck down or he might have found a little extra something in there, a side effect of all my happy thoughts.
He pulled the vial out and unwrapped it, popping the cork.
“Just a couple of drops.”
Seeming grateful, he gave me the first two, then ran out of sight where he probably did the same with Scarlett.
It wasn’t but a few seconds before I felt the warming rush. The blood’s energy prickled my skin as it lavished its attention on me like a well-paid hooker. Where only seconds before numbness had reigned, I felt a gentle surface tickle as the nerves were repaired. The bumps and bruises were already gone. The shards of marble still stuck in my face clinked to the ground one by one, pushed out as the wound beneath sealed shut.
Though I wasn’t real thrilled about it when it happened, I was kind of glad Grawwl had straightened my neck. It made the whole process quicker, not having to rely on the blood to adjust my head, and then heal it. That could have turned out real ugly if something knitted together wrong.
My body almost back in one piece, I heard Scarlett gasp and glanced over at her, elated that I could do so at all. She popped up with wide eyes, the bruises and swelling on her face replaced by angelic beauty once more. She looked around the room, then to Katon, who held her in his arms.
“What happened?” she asked, clearly sensing the mood of the room.
“Rahim,” Katon whispered, explaining everything with that simple utterance. He shook his head, unable to continue, a fresh wave of tears running free.
Her hand went to his wet cheek and she pulled him in close. For a moment, they just sat there, Scarlett gently wiping his sobbing tears away. Then without a word spoken, Katon stood and disentangled himself before stumbling for the door. He set the vial on the desk as he passed. Scarlett gave me a sad smile and followed him out.
“Hey, we’re not-”
Abraham cut me off, offering me his hand as they slipped from the room. I knew better than to argue. On my feet, I looked from R
achelle to Abe and filled them in on what we’d learned.
They both took it in and seemed to shrink right before my eyes as the entirety of what we were facing settled over them. Between them, they’d seen a lot, but it was starting to wear them down. To realize it might have all been for nothing, their lives dedicated to combating the supernatural threat that had emerged after God’s disappearance, was too stiff a blow to just roll with.
After a few tense moments of silence, I asked, “What now?”
Abraham shrugged and went to his desk, dropping heavy into his chair. “There have been more storms. They’re spreading across the globe and getting worse,” he said. His voice was little more than a whisper. “There’s nothing we can do to contain them. The world is slipping into chaos, believing the end has come. Perhaps, this time, it truly has.”
Rachelle wiped tears from her eyes and slid into his lap. She buried her face in his neck. His throat muffled her quiet sob.
“I’ll do what I can to see a path through this, but for now, there is little we can do without the key.” He wrapped his arms around Rachelle and held her tight, his eyes closing as his own tears streamed with silver dignity down his cheeks.
Hopelessness hung thick in the room. It was a deathbed vigil, the end riding in fast on the ticking hands of time. We were just waiting on the corpse to figure out what everyone else in the room knew; it was dead.
With no way to enter Heaven, there was nothing we could do to stop the war before all life was wiped from the planet. In a nagging bit of irony, the key parts split between us, the Nephilim, and Grawwl, what I’d told Grumpy Bear as he held us hostage was just as true for us as it was for him.
With an army of lycanthropes on one side and an army of half-breed angels on the other, there wasn’t any chance to separate the parts from either before everything went to shit. We simply didn’t have the power, especially considering Azrael had made his stance clear.
While used to being an underdog, the odds were stacked too deep for us to land on our feet this time.
A defeated sigh slipped loose as I looked at Abe and Rachelle. Their arms entwined, they’d forgotten I was even there as they staved off their misery with their love for one another. It made my heart hurt that I stood there alone.
The end of the world coming, Rahim dead, I snatched up the vial and headed for the door. Right then, I could only think of one person I wanted to spend my last few minutes alive with. The one person who knew me inside and out and who’d never let me down.
Jack Daniels.
Chapter Fourteen
Half way into my fifth bottle of whiskey, I’d wandered out to Old Town on autopilot. A creature of bad habits, my body seemed to think that drunk equaled Fiesta Street. Can’t really blame it; there are boobs there.
Well, probably not tonight considering the storms had been busy tearing away at existence, but there usually is. That’s good enough for me.
My walk was quiet, eerily so. The streets were deserted like I’d never seen them before, with only the occasional emergency vehicle disturbing the unnatural still. The end of the world being prophesized on every news channel across the country, the people of El Paseo had apparently taken it to heart.
All the businesses downtown were boarded up or just plain abandoned. Even the bars and liquor stores I’d passed were shut down and empty. Much to my surprise, I didn’t see any sign of looting, which renewed my faith in humanity. Better late than never, huh?
The roads were clear of traffic and even the homeless had fled the impending doom, finding shelter elsewhere. They couldn’t possibly know it didn’t matter where they were, the storms were coming. They were coming for us all.
The only place I saw any sign of life was at the church I passed. There, the people gathered in rabid hordes, the arched doorway packed thick as they struggled to get inside. Some sobbed and looked to the sky while others trudged in, zombie-faced and silent. Children scampered about, some catching onto the gloom of their parents, others oblivious; like kids should be. Their end was coming too, and there wasn’t gonna be anyone to save them. Not their parents, not their grandparents, and certainly not God. They’d all come there in vain.
Even with my tongue soaked with liquor, I couldn’t bring myself to tell them they were wasting their time. God was out of the office. If it made them feel better to end their days clamoring for a seat on a pew, then good for them, but there weren’t gonna be any miracles today. I certainly didn’t have one in me.
So, to the rhythm of the sloshing bottle, I turned my back on the throng and made my way around to where Baalth had fricasseed the neighborhood. Once there, I stared at the ruin, made more poignant by my whiskey-addled brain. It was a bitter preview of things to come. My stomach churned with disgust and I chugged another mouthful of Jack to help keep my inebriated perspective.
Half devil, it took an awful lot to get me drunk, and a whole Hell of a lot more to stay that way. My recuperative powers burned away the alcohol just a smidge slower than I was consuming it so I had to keep sucking it down or I’d sober up.
While I didn’t have to worry about hangovers, my bar tab had a lot in common with the national deficit; way too many zeroes. The good part of the end of the world lurking around the corner was that I wouldn’t have to pay it. That was a plus.
Maudlin, I pulled my eyes from the scorched earth and stumbled down the road. It felt weird to see how abandoned it all was. It was if the world had given up, just like we had. It didn’t inspire confidence.
Driven on in mindless motion, my feet kept on slapping down, one after another, as they steered me toward the red light district-my own personal place of worship. As much as I wanted to pretend I could die alone and be all right with it, the truth was I wouldn’t be. I hoped there’d be some brave-or stupid-souls out tonight with whom I could commiserate.
My thoughts swirled to Veronica and our life together. It’d been Hell sometimes, but there’d been plenty to smile about, despite it all. I wondered where she was and what she was doing, though the more I thought about it, it probably didn’t matter. She wasn’t exactly the snuggly type. Were she around, we’d only fight until the world blew up, and probably for a little while afterward.
Then there was Karra. Nothing would make me happier than wrapping my arms around her and telling her how much her coming back into my life meant. It was like I was fifteen all over, minus the constant erection.
Well, things really hadn’t changed much in that department.
That aside, her presence had reawakened something in me I’d thought dead and buried long ago. Maybe it was just the whiskey making me emotional, but I couldn’t help but feel like there was something there between us, some hint that we had a chance at something special. Something more than we’d made the first time around. She had her father though, and he was ready to go down with the ship. There wouldn’t be any room in her life for the both of us if things went to Hell. There was no way I was gonna win out over daddy. I hadn’t the first time, and no amount of liquor made me think I would the second.
I swallowed the rest of the bottle and let my feet do their thing. So deeply alone it hurt, I let them guide me toward the only sanctuary this city held for me; the dregs of society. Unable to spend my last moments with my own kind, I’d spend it with my mother’s. While I can’t say she’d approve of my choice of locations, it gave me a kind of solace to think of dying amongst the humans. It would be the closest thing I’d ever have to being with her again.
Moist eyes on the sky, I stumbled on and tossed the empty bottle away. It took me a second to realize I hadn’t heard it land.
My heart surged with adrenaline as I drew my gun and spun around. Two grim, blue and blurry eyes met mine.
“I presume by this you haven’t you’ve had much success?” The weathered old man held my bottle in his hand, the bronze of his armor reflected through the thick glass.
Taking a deep breath, I stuffed my gun in my waistband and glared at him. “I know I’
m supposed to respect my elders and all that, but I’m not really interested in whatever it is you’re selling.”
It was obvious he wasn’t human, but strangely, he didn’t ring back on my senses like any supernatural I’ve ever known. It was if he wasn’t even there. The blood on his armor was definitely real though. Splatters coated his right side in crimson and there were streaks running the length of his right arm. Seeing that, I regretted putting my gun away.
He tossed the bottle aside and smirked as it smashed into a million pieces, glistening shards skittering across the asphalt. “Is there no room for salvation in that calloused heart of yours, demon?” His voice had that raspy bite that lifelong smokers develop over the years.
“Look, I don’t know who you are, or how you factor into all this, but can you get to the point? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” The alcohol was wearing off and I was starting to give a shit again.
“The middle of quitting is what it looks like to me, boy. I’d have figured you for sterner stuff considering your bloodline.”
If there’s one thing that pisses me off more than anything else, it’s when people know who I am but I have idea who they are. His vague reference to Lucifer didn’t help my mood much either.
“If you’ve got something to say, old man, spit it out while you still can.”
A smile exploded onto his face, the Grand Canyon cut between the not so grand. “I knew there had to be some fire left in there somewhere.” He raised his hands to warn me off as I went for my gun. “I’m on your side, at least until our current crisis passes.” He looked at me for a moment and shook his head. “There is so much you don’t know.”
“No shit, Sherlock. How about we start with your name?” That’s the problem with supernaturals-they live so damn long that paranoia becomes a way of life. They hoard their knowledge and squirrel away every myth and legend just to prolong their miserable existence, hiding the truth from the world. Every great once in a while, they give a drop of it away, for a price of course, just to make themselves feel important; remembered.