by Sean Hayden
I quickly grabbed Father Rourke's hand and breathed in again, letting the pain subside. "It's beneath us."
"That's impossible…"
I turned and looked at the priest. "Why?"
"It's sealed. Relics from St. Hedwig herself are entombed under the altar."
"Father, I hate to tell you, but a demon, an actual winged demon with horns, somehow got in there and placed the vessel she uses to travel to this world in with those relics…"
Father Rourke looked pissed.
"That dirty heathen," he said and motioned for us to follow him, without letting go of my hand.
We exited through the back of the dais and walked down a set of stone stairs with an iron railing spiraling down into the basement. A wooden door with a cross made from the same iron as the railing barred our entry. Father Rourke pulled a key from a chain around his neck. It glistened blackly in the minimal light. Even more cold iron. I hope the church understood that would only be useful in repelling an elven raid.
He looked at me apologetically and let go of my hand, plunging the key into the lock and turning it with a resounding thunk.
I reached out and grabbed his shoulder, letting him work and driving away the pain. This close I doubted my sanity not hanging on to him, the pain had increased tenfold. I shuddered to think what it would feel like in the same room with the vessel. I didn't understand, I could feel evil pouring from the other demon's vessel, but this was a hundred times worse.
"You okay?" Cosmo asked.
"I'll live thanks to the Father."
"That's the spirit, child," Rourke said and pushed on the door. It didn't budge.
Cosmo moved to help him and struggled helplessly. They both turned to look at me and I shrugged. "Hang on to my shoulders behind me, Father."
"Alright." I let go of him and he quickly stepped behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. At least he would be shielded if anything blew up in our face.
I gave a push on the door and it didn't move at first. Then it cracked and scraped against the stone floor and slowly moved inward. After it opened a foot, it jammed, and I couldn't budge it another inch.
"I think there's something behind it." I gave it one more try before giving up. "If I pay for the damages, can I break the door?"
"I'm sorry, child. I cannot allow that door to be damaged, no matter what may lie behind it."
I nodded, understanding. "It was worth a shot. I can slip inside, but I don't think either of you are getting through."
"Can you take the pain? You seemed like you were going to pass out just waiting for Father Rourke to move behind you."
"We don't have a choice. I'll slip inside, unjam the door, and you guys come in kicking. Father, grab ahold of me as soon as you can, if you would."
He nodded, and I took another breath and held it. I slipped between the jamb and the door and into the darkness inside. It took only a second for me to swing around the door and come face to face with Rayna.
I screamed in surprise as she slammed the door shut and the blackness swallowed me. Pain, emanating from her vessel, wrapped around me like a wet blanket.
I came to with my feet dangling fifteen-hundred feet over Wacker Drive, Rayna's hand around my throat the only thing stopping me from becoming a red stain on the pavement. I'd probably heal from it, but I didn't want to test my theory.
We were on top of the Willis Tower. I'd always wanted to see the view from the top floor, but not like this.
"You're a smart girl. Abomination," she hissed in my face. "How did you find my vessel? Trap?"
"I knew it had to be close. I figured you'd hide it in a church just to be you," I said through clenched teeth, lying about Vic's help. While I couldn't choke to death, talking while being held up by your throat wasn't the easiest thing in the world. I could barely get the words out.
"The spell I placed on the room should have driven all of you away. Fear."
"Well. It didn't work on the priest, and Cosmo is a mage. Spells don't work on me…"
She turned me in her grip, looking from side to side. "Works. You felt it. Feeds on guilt. Terrible regret. You have plenty. Overflowing."
That explained why I felt the crushing in my chest. It was guilt. She wasn't lying, I was an endless font of guilt and regret. That didn't explain why the spell got through my shield. Maybe because it wasn't directed at me. I had no idea. Magic was beyond my scope of knowledge. I'd ask Cosmo. If he and Father Rourke didn't get ripped to shreds. At the moment, I had bigger things to worry about.
I took a gamble and swung my legs up with the intention of grabbing her arm with them. I learned a valuable lesson. Gambling rarely pays off. She instantly let go of my throat and I started falling.
I flipped over and faced the ground. The wind made seeing nearly impossible, but not enough to see I only had seconds remaining before I would make a deep impression on Wacker Drive.
About thirty stories up, I felt her latch onto my back and beat her wings, slowing my decent before flying down the street between the buildings.
"Not yet. I'm not done playing with you. Pain." She bit my ear and dropped me as she swooped lower. I flipped midair and ungraciously landed on the windshield of a car, caving the entire roof of the vehicle and setting off the anti-theft alarm.
I lay there, broken and bleeding, and just wishing someone with the fucking key-fob would hit the button and shut off the damn alarm.
Rayna landed on the hood of the car hard enough that the front two tires blew. She stood over me and I watched in horror as she lifted a signpost she had ripped out of the ground somewhere, over her head and drove it down through my chest and into the car. At least the alarm shut off.
"Stay here for a while. Safe."
She jumped into the air, beat her wings, and flew away.
I turned my head and spit out a good amount of blood onto the shattered windshield beneath me, the smallest movement sending agonizing pain from my chest to the rest of my body. As gently as I could, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell. The glass was shattered, but it turned on when I hit the button.
I dialed 911
"Hello? I'd like to report an accident…"
I dropped the phone on the hood of the car. They could figure out where I was from the GPS. I didn't feel like talking. A crowd started to gather around me, many of them on the line with emergency services, too. I decided to play dead, so I didn't have to answer any "are you okay?" questions.
"She's so young. I thought it was a suicide until that creature killed her."
"What the hell was that thing?"
"Looked like some sort of demon?"
"My aunt saw a demon once."
I tried my best to ignore the conversations happening around me, and almost clapped when I heard the sirens approaching. At least the nice paramedics could push the crowd back a little.
The ambulance stopped next to my new bed. I didn't see me getting up anytime soon. I just hoped they could get me unimpaled and in the back of their vehicle before the sun came up. I figured they had about three hours…
The door vehicles opened and three of CFDs finest piled out.
"Holy shit."
"Jesus Christ."
"Should I call a coroner?"
Not what I wanted to hear. I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at them staring at me with dumfounded looks on their faces. "I'm not dead. Can somebody get this fucking sign out of my chest?" I plopped my head back on the broken windshield and cracked it a little more.
That's when I noticed it was a stop sign. I think Rayna might have been trying to tell me something…
"She's a vampire."
"I still can't believe she survived that."
"Why would a demon attack a vampire?"
"It couldn't be a demon. They don't exist."
I tuned out the peanut gallery standing on the sidewalk and looked up at the closest paramedic. "Could you hurry? Not to sound ungrateful, but the sun will be up soon, and I've had a really bad
fucking day."
"Waiting on the engine, ma'am. They have all the cutting tools."
"Great."
"Don't get sent out too many incidents involving vampires. At least not on the receiving end. Is there anything we can do for the pain?"
"No. I'll heal once I'm not a vamp-kabob."
He laughed. "So, what happened?"
"Got into a fight with a nasty piece of work. She decided to make sure I couldn't follow her. Speaking of which, could you do me a favor and hand me my phone? I dropped it on the hood after I called you guys and I can't reach it."
"It's right here," he said and held it up in front of me.
"Could you scroll through the recent calls and dial Thompson for me? He's my partner."
"Ma'am, your boyfriend can wait. Let's get you off of here first."
"Not that kind of partner. He's my work partner. FBI…"
"You're an FBI agent?" Even I could hear the skepticism in his voice.
I sighed, and it came out as a wet, gurgling sound. A lung fart is something I never wanted to hear again, especially coming from my chest. I reached into my inside jacket pocket and pulled out my badge and handed it to him.
"See for yourself, then call my partner and tell him where I am. I’m going to need a ride."
"We can–"
"I'll be fine. I can't rip the fucking stop sign out myself, or I'd already be gone. Please," I added for good measure.
He stepped away and made the call. I could even hear Thompson yelling on the other end. Thankfully the fire truck's sirens blocked out the colorful idioms he was using to describe me.
The engine whined to a stop and the sirens quieted. I had a massive headache and the silence was a reprieve. And I thought it was a relief when the car alarm stopped blaring.
"Holy shit," the first fireman said when he got out of the truck.
I lifted my head and shot him the dirtiest look I could manage. I'm sure I looked quite scary bleeding from my eyes and ears. If I snarled, he probably would have shit his pants.
He quietly backed up and went to work, opening a rolling door on the side of the truck and grabbing the jaws of life. I nodded appreciatively. That should snip through the post quite easily. Sawing would have hurt like a son of a bitch.
A few minutes later and over the sound of the hydraulic pump motor, he talked loudly enough to be heard, "I'm sorry. This may hurt a little."
I nodded and warily watched him as he climbed up onto the hood of the car and knelt beside me. He positioned the metal cutting tool as close to my chest as possible and clamped down slowly on the sign. Two other firemen climbed on top of the car and held the post to steady it and catch it when it fell.
The pump started whining and the clamp started closing, cutting through the metal with a satisfying screeching noise. A thunk later and it sheared completely off. The firemen lifted the post and dropped it to the ground by the side of the car. The one holding the jaws shuffled back on his knees and set it down before climbing off.
I turned my head and saw the paramedics rush toward the vehicle. I used the moment in between to sit up, the post sliding slickly through my back. I came free with a wet squelch.
"Ahh," I said in relief and held up my hand to ward off the medics. "Give me a minute," I said to them and slowly started to stretch, checking myself for damage.
Everything seemed better except for the gaping hole in my chest. It might take a few minutes to heal, since I didn't have any blood to consume. I didn't want to ask the people around me if anybody was a supe and could I have a snack. They were freaked out enough.
Wait. Paramedics…
I leaned over to the closest one. "You wouldn't happen to have any lycanthrope blood in your ambulance, would you?"
He gave me a stranger look and shook his head.
Worth a shot.
I stood up and the gathered crowd gasped.
That's when the police showed up.
Two police cars converged on the scene in a squeal of tires. The people on the sidewalk watching took a collective step back. Most of them ran after that. A few stalwarts who had been filming the rescue with their phones kept recording, as four policemen sprung from their vehicles and pointed their weapons at me.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your back!"
I didn't have the energy to deal with that level of bull-shit right then. Instead of doing as they asked, I sat down on the hood of the car and wrapped my arms around my knees while I prayed for Thompson to show up quickly. HE could deal with these guys.
"I'm an FBI agent," I called out to the one who told me to get down.
"And I'm Mother Theresa! Get down on the fucking ground now."
"No. I have been hurt. I have been injured, and I have identified myself. The paramedic standing there looking at you like you're an asshole has my badge. I'm sitting here until my partner gets here."
"If you don't get down on the fucking ground right now, vampire, I will ventilate your fucking chest with silver. Do you understand the words coming out of my fucking mouth?"
Oh. That's enough of this bullshit. Racist mother fucker…
I stood up and dropped to the ground. I slowly walked toward him, not even pretending to look concerned. I didn't even stop when the first bullet hit my chest. Stop signs hurt ten times worse than their nine-millimeter bullshit. The other three officers did the smart thing and held their fire.
"I just had a two-inch metal post shoved through my chest," I snarled as I spoke.
He fired again, this time hitting me in the shoulder.
"I was dropped thirty-fucking-feet into the windshield of a car…"
He shot me again, this time through the heart. My vision blackened for a moment, but I didn't stop walking.
"I told you who I was and where you could find my badge and you still pull this shit."
I watched his hands shift a little higher. He was aiming for my head this time. I really didn't want to get shot in the head. Not with silver.
I put on a burst of vampiric speed and closed the remaining fifteen feet between us in the blink of a human eye. I grabbed him by his bulletproof vest and headbutted him. His eyes rolled up into his head and he dropped the gun, which discharged again hitting me in the shin, but it was totally worth it.
I dropped him to the ground, reached down and pulled his cuffs from their holster. Slapping them on his wrists, I stood up and glared at the other three police officers who wisely chose to holster their weapons.
"Anyone else want to arrest me?"
They shook their heads.
"Call your officer in charge, I want to file a complaint."
I watched as one of them reached down, grabbed the radio on the front of her vest, and called it in. I dropped to the ground and sat in the middle of the cold wet street. At least the cop cars would keep me from getting run over.
One of the EMTs walked over and draped me with a blanket.
"Thanks," I said over my shoulder.
"Were those really silver bullets?"
"They burn, so I'm guessing yes."
"Want me to take them out?"
"Nah. Just leave them. They dissolve after a few days. Not worth cutting open the wound to get them out."
"I thought silver was fatal for vampires…"
"For most, yes. Not all of 'em," I lied.
"That's kind of scary," he said and offered me a hand.
I decided to take him up on the offer. My butt was numb. "Yeah. Why it's always safer to cut out their heart and rip off their head."
He shot me a confused look. "No. I meant that the police officer shot you with silver. He thought it would kill you even after you told him you were an FBI agent…"
"Oh. Yeah. That guy is a racist dick," I said and looked over at him, still unconscious and face down in the street. None of the three other officers made a move to help him up either. The woman on the radio was looking at my badge though. Probably giving the
number to her lieutenant. Somebody was going to be in a shit ton of trouble by the time morning came. I just hoped it wouldn't be me. These things had a tendency to get turned around.
A familiar black suburban pulled up behind one of the police cars. Thompson stepped out of the vehicle and approached the scene holding his badge above his head and looking around for me. He stopped by the cop in cuffs and shook his head. Looking over, he finally saw me standing there with the EMT close by. He just shook his head and came over.
"Looks like you had a fun night…"
"Yep."
"What happened?" He looked around surveying the damage.
"Went with Cosmo to see if we could find the vessel. We did. Shit went downhill after that."
"You need to stick around here?" He pointed at the cop lying on the ground with his thumb over his shoulder.
"Probably should, but if that asshole's superior doesn't get here before sunup, I'm out of here."
He nodded. "Fill me in on the rest of the story. Start at the part where you decided to fuck up and not tell me you were going monster hunting." He paused and looked at the EMT. "Give us a minute, would you?"
"Sure thing. Your partner is pretty cool," he said and walked back over to the ambulance.
"Sounds like you made a friend."
"He's a nice guy. Leave him alone."
"Somebody's in wuv."
"I swear to Christ, I will rip your spine out through your ass if you don't shut up. I've had a night."
"Grump ass."
"You get dropped thirty feet into a car and then nailed down with a stop sign and then get shot by a racist cop. See how peachyfuckingkeen you feel."
"Been there, done that. Memphis 2002."
"Oh, shut up."
∞ ∞ ∞
The CPD Ford Explorer announced the arrival of the local precincts superior officer. He pulled next to our Suburban and left the grill lights on. The strobing was adding to my headache.