Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent (The Pact Book 2)

by Alex Villavasso

  Nothing—just an empty space with two dead bodies in the middle of the floor. Demons.

  Seems like your allies bested them. They must have kept moving. Good. Do you plan on going after them?

  “No. I’m staying right here.” As long as they stay away from me, they’ll have a chance. “I’m the one with the target on my head.” With both my guns drawn, I extend my arms horizontally, focusing my barrel at two of the three entry points connected to this wing of the building. “Watch my back, Al. Your life depends on it.”

  Gladly.

  My chest rises and falls evenly as I wait in silence for more demons to come, but their backup fails to arrive. The building occasionally rattles with gunshots, but they quickly subside once the yell of slain demons echo throughout the halls. “Good job.” I smirk.

  Unfortunately, my smile disintegrates not even ten seconds later.

  Sailor…

  “I know.” My eyes narrow at the sight of a well-dressed demon dragging along a malnourished victim with worn features. The well-dressed demon smiles as he walks closer, unconcerned with the gun I have pointed his way. “Desmond,” I whisper.

  “Ah, so the infamous hunter finally makes her triumphant return,” Desmond muses as he steps closer. “I figured your capture came about too easily. You know, you’re beginning to turn quite a number of heads.”

  I study the markings along Benjamin’s body and his bruised face while he’s being dragged against his will. I pull one of my guns from the corridor and focus it on Desmond, both my fingers now slightly pressed against their respective triggers. “That’s enough. Stay where you are…let go of the boy.” Benjamin’s eyes catch mine, but he keeps his head low. It didn’t take long. He’s broken.

  “Oh?” Desmond smirks at my demand and takes another step before stopping just to show his authority. Wary of his movements, I try to match his pace, backtracking to re-establish the distance between us. “We both know you won’t shoot. Not as long as I have him.” He smiles and clenches Ben’s forearm with an increased ferocity, causing him to fall to his knees in pain. “Now how about this? You place your guns on the floor and I will do as I please,” Desmond says as he squeezes Benjamin’s wrist tighter.

  “You’re crushing it!” Benjamin groans as he grabs at his arm in a futile attempt to free himself from the demon’s grip.

  “That’s precisely the point,” Desmond calmly states to Benjamin, his eyes still focused on me. “Now pipe down, the grownups are talking.”

  Sorry, Ben. I can’t drop my guns—no, not with him pointing one directly at me. The moment I do that, he wins. Even if he didn’t have a gun, this is the same demon that drugged me and tortured me. There’s no way I’d let that happen again. If I give him any more leeway, we’ll both die. He’s strong. “What do you know about the raid four months ago?” I ask, trying my best to ignore Benjamin’s ongoing agony.

  “Raid? I have no idea what you’re talking about sweetheart,” Desmond snickers. A lot of things happen on this side of paradise. Can you be more specific?”

  “Your folks were setting up a ritual, but got fucked. That ring any bells? I’m sure word got around fast,” I scoff. “It’s not every day that a coven manages to summon a squadron of sweepers and a task force of demons for protection.” Desmond’s malevolent smile shrinks and he lowers his brow. “What were they trying to do, exactly?” I growl as I jut my guns forward. “Answer me!”

  “Your line of questioning is most interesting, young hunter, but it’s not you whom I answer to. Keep in mind who you’re talking to with that tone of yours.”

  Sailor, if you wish to save that boy, Desmond must die.

  No shit.

  This situation is too far out of your control to guarantee anything other than your own demise if you wish to entertain this demon’s games. He may have the answers you seek, but I ask you, under what circumstances will he be compliant to your demands?

  It’s a no-brainer that Desmond won’t comply just because I ask him to. He’s armed and he has a hostage. If I try anything, he’ll go for the kill. Desmond doesn’t feel the least bit threatened, which is strange. He would have abandoned ship by now if he felt that he was at his wit’s end. Something isn’t right.

  “Let him go, or I’ll end you,” I spit tersely.

  “Will you?” With his eyes fixed on me, Desmond torques Ben’s wrist, causing him to wail in pain. A sharp pop registers in my eardrums and I witness a portion of his ulna break through his skin. “I don’t take too kindly to orders. I thought you realized that by now,” he says coldly. “Drop your weapons. I won’t say it again.” Desmond takes out a gun from his suit pocket and points it at Benjamin’s “Now.”

  Sailor, now isn’t the time or the place for personal vendettas. Don’t be a fool. Other demons may be en route. Kill him. That boy is but a mere bargaining chip in the bigger picture. Desmond thinks he owns you now that he has a means to negotiate your freedom.

  As Al speaks to me, I manage to lock eyes with Ben. He’s sobbing; mortified, just like anyone else rapidly reaching the end of their rope. His face is ragged with dirt and debris, and caked blood stains his blond hair and tattered clothes. He’s only a fraction of the man I met by chance that night at the club. It breaks my heart to see him like this, knowing I’m at Desmond’s mercy.

  I avert my eyes from Ben and focus on Desmond. His smile widens as his grip squeezes tighter around the ex-bartender’s fractured arm. I hear another pop and Ben’s arm shifts unnaturally. He begins to writhe, but Desmond stomps on his thigh, crushing his bones to limit his movement. The longer you wait, the more painful his final moments will be. That boy is beyond saving at this point. Shoot Desmond and show that you’re not as weak as he believes. If you long to make Desmond pay for his transgressions, make him pay with his life. Kill him and end this game.

  “Are you ready to listen or must this poor boy suffer even more for your folly? I don’t think he has much time left.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I pull the trigger. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.

  My hand recoils and I can no longer hear Benjamin’s screams pounding away at my eardrums. Perhaps it’s because the moment I fired, Desmond did the same, leaving Ben lifeless with a bullet lodged in his brain. Of course, Desmond is no different. Not even a second after he fired, my bullet pierced into his forehead, killing him instantly. I watch his limp body fall to the floor, and I feel nothing. No anger, no remorse, no hate, no sadness—nothing. It’s almost like my mind is wrapped in an endless haze. Staring at his corpse only reminds me that anything I wanted from him is now out of reach. I guide my guns towards his bleeding body and shoot it three more times in hopes for something, but nothing comes to the surface. Not a single thing.

  In the days to come there will be more victims—there will always be more victims, but there is only one you.

  “I know,” I reply coldly to the demon drawing from my soul.

  You did what had to be done. You chose to live.

  Maybe so, but if that damned gun were pointed at me instead of him, maybe things would have been easier.

  “Sailor!” I hear Abby and Blaze running my way, but I’m too apathetic to turn around.

  “We heard gunshots. Is everything—?”

  “Everything’s fine,” I respond, my eyes still fixated on the twisted corpses lying next to each other. “Desmond’s dead…and so is Ben.”

  ****

  Shortly after Ben’s death, backup came onto the scene and helped us escort the two lone survivors from Desmond’s camp. For Abby, Blaze, and myself, it was smooth sailing after the initial onslaught. Our backup was able to take out Desmond’s scavengers without any major casualties. Upon Abby’s request, another division was sent to stakeout Sarah Evans’s home for the duration of the night, which was a good call considering all that happened. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have thought to do that. My mind was still tightly coiled in a shit storm of guilt and shame, and rightfully so. The fol
lowing day, I made it my personal mission to break the news about her son to her in person. Abby and Blaze tagged along, which I appreciated. I told her that her son died due to gang violence. I didn’t go into detail about his final moments and only said what the ‘cops’ told me—that he’d been shot in the head. Sarah Evans didn’t take it well, but no mother in her right mind would. I came to her as a friend of Ben’s and once I broke the news, she began to sob uncontrollably, throwing herself into my arms. For the longest time I stood there as she cried, her hands covering her face while she buried herself against my chest. It was like a bad nightmare, an inescapable Hell that I couldn’t wake up from.

  Could I have done more to save him?

  The question looped through my mind like a broken cassette tape as I stroked her back. It was automatic…a reflex. I couldn’t get myself to feel anything different since the moment Desmond took his life. It’s shock, I know, but I can’t shake it. It’s almost like it’s been a part of me for as long as I can remember.

  “I’ll make the arrangements,” Sarah finally says as she pulls away from me. Her eyes are blotchy and moist, agitated from her tears. “I’ll contact you once everything is final.” I nod without saying a word, noticing a tear roll down the side of my cheek.

  “Thank you,” Abby says on my behalf. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter 13: Vartal the Wicked

  The moment Desmond tried to possess Sailor

  It’s possession—he’s trying to possess me.

  The black mist chokes me as it forces itself into my mouth but with the last of my will, I do my best to resist his advances. He grunts and another wave of his essence flows from his mouth into my throat. The room grows darker even though I’m still in complete control of my body. My body feels heavier than before and my vision is slowly getting worse. The lone flicker of light I see is shrinking, blending in with the surrounding darkness.

  The lead’s face disappears from sight and my world turns completely black.

  “I’m sorry, but this vessel is already occupied. You needn’t try anymore.” From the darkness, Vartal emerges, a smirk present on his withered lips.

  “Can it be?” Desmond gasps. “Vartal?”

  “Yes,” Vartal scoffs. “I have indeed been freed.”

  “So it was you, I sensed. I thought you were—”

  “Locked away with the rest of them? No, not quite. I escaped, but at a cost. The summoning was botched by a group of hunters four months ago. I was the only one who made it through, but the majority of my strength is gone. This hunter was foolish enough to harbor me in exchange for tending to her wounds. I am grateful for her stupidity, but at the same time, it is cumbersome to be at her mercy. Little by little, my strength returns, but through this drug you have given her, I can feel my power being restored. I intend on finishing what was agreed upon, but there are matters that must be addressed first. I have enemies that I’m certain would like to kill me when they have the chance, so I’d like for my return to be kept secret until I have recovered.

  “And when will that be?”

  “It will be when this girl’s will is my own. My plans cannot be orchestrated else wise.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, my king. I await the day you are restored.”

  “Delightful…your loyalty will be rewarded once I am well. Tell me… What is it your name, demon?”

  “Desmond.”

  “Well, Desmond, it would be in your best interest to leave this vessel, destroy the hunter’s phone and relocate.”

  “And why is that, my king?”

  “Your legion is incompetent. She has a tracker. I hope your underlings aren’t a reflection of you. If so, I’m highly disappointed and we’ve only just met.”

  “She’s in here!”

  “Hm. So her friends have arrived. They were quicker than I expected. It seems this world is full of surprises. Very well. I’ll gladly play her game at her own expense. As you know, the human mind is oh so…delicate. What a fine way to occupy my time while I replenish my strength. She has no idea what she’s done and all for the sake of her earthly ties. How sad—the pitiful life of Sailor Ray, the girl who ushered in the beginning of the end.”

  THE END

  The Pact Book Three: Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie

  Available Now

  The Pact Book Three: Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie

  Is he making me the perfect vessel?

  On lonely nights, I often wonder if I’m still me or if Vartal’s influence is now my second nature.

  Everything’s changed. Nothing is even remotely the same. The ones I thought I could trust may turn against me if they find out my secret, and the one being that dangles my very existence in his hands is the only constant in my ever-shifting life. Perhaps it’s just me. Perhaps it’s the price I pay for allowing him in and forcing everyone out.

  Why does he help me? Why do I let him? What am I fighting for? And does it really matter?

  Things aren’t as black and white as they once were, and I alone walk the medium, teetering on either side.

  In a world without rules, only the wicked run free. A lack of conscience, a loss of a soul—what’s the difference? I’ve seen enough from both sides to know that there is none.

  I’m going to get him out. But if I can’t, there’s only one way this can end. For better or for worse.

  ~

  I watch him from a distance as he leaves the bar, his head tucked low, nestled between the ridges of his jacket. I’ve been out here for at least an hour, but this is well worth the wait.

  I’ve got you now, bastard.

  I give him a little space while he walks through the dimly lit streets of the city, but I slowly pick up my pace to gain ground. A few bars are open, but nothing is packed. It’s too early for the late night crowd, but far too late for the nine to fivers to get a quick after work meal. If he managed to down a couple beers, this will be a lot easier. An intoxicated mark is an easy mark.

  The man in question pulls out his phone as he continues to walk, totally oblivious to his surroundings. I don’t mind at all. With his eyes glued to his phone, he’s occupied, which makes what I have to do that much easier.

  Hopefully this one will be de different. Maybe…hopefully.

  At least doing this is better than watching your life slip away.

  Self-pity doesn’t get you that far in this line of work, but whether you ignore them or not, your demons tend to always follow you to the grave.

  I take my hands out of my front pocket for a moment raise black hood over my head before returning my grips to the switchblade and vial that rest in the joint front pouch of my hoodie. He turns the corner and I put more bounce into my step. A couple of guys brush past me as I make the corner, but no one blinks twice.

  No one suspects a girl to do these sorts of things—their mistake. I’m easily just as capable and far more lethal than your average joe.

  The man I’m trailing makes a bend into the alley, presumably heading toward more of what the night has to offer. I could wait; trail him a bit more, but I decide to make my move. He’s isolated now and I’m not sure what the rest of the night will bring.

  The Pact Book Three: Sailor Ray and the Beautiful Lie

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  Sailor’s Descent

  So things are getting kind of crazy for Sailor, and Vartal seems to be more than just an average run-of-the-mill demon. So far, Sailor has been trying to turn something bad into good and it hasn’t been working out for her. Her body count is piling up as a direct result of having Vartal inside of her and her guilt is beginning to weigh on her more than before. Vartal is also getting stronger, which is never a good thing (what in God’s green earth is he planning by the way?).

  With Blaze back in the picture, hopefully he can talk some sense into her, and maybe Sailor will gain the courage to reveal what really happened the day her father died. He is her only family left, and she definitely needs that right now. True to his nature, Vartal is trying to manipulate Sailor to his liking, which can’t be good.

  About the Author

  Alex Villavasso was born and raised in Louisiana where he first found his love for fiction while reading through the summer months. When he is not working on getting his thoughts out of his head, Alex can be found doing things that everyone tends to do, like sleeping, catching up with friends, and spending copious amounts of time on Netflix.

  Alex hangs out at AlexVillavasso.com. You can connect with him on Facebook at Facebook.com/AlexVillavasso and on Twitter at @AlexVillavasso. Alex can also be reached at AlexVillavasso@gmail.com if you prefer to contact him through email.

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