While Buddy was face down, struggling for his undead existence, I watched what they were doing to Laura the way a scared kid watches his first horror movie. She was still holding herself together, despite being cut badly in three places. One of the wounds was so deep, it looked like her arm was about to fall off. Even so, no blood poured out of her, and like Paul, she continued to fight, trying her hardest to reach me.
Just when I thought Laura was finished, she raised her functioning arm and ripped out one of the gang member’s trachea. The men backed away from her after that. They still positioned themselves between Laura and me, but they gave her plenty of room.
Marco’s guys were doing exactly what I’d asked, but I couldn’t watch them give up their lives for me without trying to help. So I cursed and jumped into the fray, with Shadow right behind me, ears down and growling. I drew Gus and looked for an opening as Shadow jumped into the air and landed on the chest of one of the zombies that was coming straight for me.
The silver pendants weren’t affecting the zombies at all. But as soon as I was mixing it up nice and close with Marco’s guys, my supernatural strength faded. I kept moving and swinging Gus as hard as I could, but my godly guitar neck wasn’t nearly as effective as before.
I clubbed one of the undead creatures in the head, and he staggered backward. As I looked over my shoulder, I saw Laura zero in on me, moving through a break in the crowd. She lunged at me, her eyes milky white and glazed over.
“I’m sorry about this,” I said as I knelt in front of her and thrusted the sharp end of Gus up through her throat and into her brain. She looked down at me like a confused animal before she slumped to the ground, fully dead at last.
I felt sick in my stomach, but I knew I’d done the right thing. Even so, it still sucked.
While Marco’s men took care of the remaining zombies, I turned from Laura and set a path straight for the front door of the house. The entrance looked like any other door in the neighborhood, with one major difference. A mountain of a man in a tight tee-shirt was guarding it.
Shadow joined me, wagging his tail by my side as Marco’s guys worked to keep our path to the door zombie-free.
Santos passed me on the left and jumped high in the air, a large knife raised above his head. He landed on a large zombie I hadn’t seen, pushing the undead guy’s head back as far as it would go and exposing its neck. With a flick of his wrist, he drove his knife’s iron edge under the creature’s chin and up into its gray matter.
“You need us to take care of the doorman, too?” he said as he turned to me with a savage smile.
“I’ve got the door. Just wait for me out here,” I said as I sprinted at the bouncer. The big man tensed, ready for a fight as I jumped the last five feet and landed on the porch, standing unearthly still in front of him.
“Invitation,” he said in a slow, deep voice, trying to sound intimidating.
I looked him dead in his eyes, my strength returning with each second, now that I was away from the pendants.
“I left it in my other pair of jeans,” I said as I stepped to move past him.
“No invitation, no—” was all he had a chance to utter before I swatted him away with a flick of my wrist. He shot through the air and landed in the bushes, unmoving.
I forced my heart rate to slow and got my breathing under control. The noises of the party in full swing seeped into the evening air, and I could smell the mass of humanity behind the door. Shadow sat down next to me with his back to the entrance and sniffed the air.
I carefully turned the doorknob and stepped into the foyer, motioning for Shadow to stay on the porch and stand guard. For once, he did what I wanted and remained outside.
Smart dog.
When I closed the door behind me, the noise in the house fell several decibels as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me. The only sound I heard was the thumping of drums and an overdone bass line while a guy rapped about carrying a stick and not being afraid to use it.
“How appropriate,” I said under my breath as my hand grazed the god stick hanging from my belt.
Using my goggles, I scanned the crowd. There were a few demons in the back of the room trying to hide from me, but most of the guests were human. Even so, they were the ones shooting me the exaggerated looks of shock and contempt.
At first, I didn’t understand how a bunch of regular people knew who I was. But I finally figured out they weren’t gawking at me because I was Ahriman’s hated demon enforcer. They were glaring at me because I was the only one in the room who was still fully dressed.
Chapter 45
AS MY DAD USED to say, When in Rome, do as the Romans. And in this case, being a Roman meant losing most of my clothes. So I forced a smile and stripped down to my boxer briefs. I was okay with being mostly naked, but I slipped my goggles back into place and synched up my belt so it hung low on my hip to make sure Gus and my dagger stayed at my side.
Yes, I looked ridiculous, like a lame member of the Village People. But I wasn’t about to go up against Oizys unarmed, no matter how many partygoers were passively judging my fashion sense.
Fortunately, once I was appropriately undressed, most people ignored me and went back to their conversations and their foreplay and whatever else they’d been up to before I’d arrived.
“I should have brought a backpack,” I said as I stood there with my jeans and my shirt in my hands.
A curvy nude woman waved at me from behind a table in the foyer.
“You can check those here,” she said loud enough to be heard over the music. I forced a smile, walked over, and handed her my clothes.
“Good evening. My name is Samantha,” she said with a fake giggle. “I remember how nervous I was at my first one of these. But I assure you, everyone here is very friendly. Start talking to someone who looks interesting, and you’ll have a new friend soon enough. Just make sure you follow the house rules. Oh, and if you’d like to be on our mailing list, leave your email address on the sign-in sheet.”
I leaned in closer, so I didn’t have to shout.
“Remind me of those rules, Samantha.”
“No touching unless you know the person well or they have specifically asked to be touched,” she said in a practiced manner. “Also, please make liberal use of the male and female condoms located in the ornamental wicker baskets conveniently displayed throughout the residence. Unprotected intercourse is strictly prohibited, even if it’s with your spouse or significant other.”
She moved close enough that her lips brushed my ear.
“I’m required to say that last part. But I’m sure you’ll find most acts are allowed at the discretion of the hosts, as long as everyone involved fully consents.”
“How are things laid out tonight?” I asked. “Finger foods in the kitchen. Drinks at the bar. Dungeon in the basement?”
“You are so clever,” she said, standing up straight and touching her naked bosom with one hand. “Are you sure you haven’t been to one of our parties before? And, yes, we have an assortment of designated specialty areas for our guests. Upstairs, private rooms are available on a first come, first served basis. The master bedroom is locked and off limits, of course, but three guest rooms are in play. As you have already noted, the basement is set up as our main activity room this evening, complete with multiple S&M stations and plenty of both standard and extreme toys for everyone’s pleasure. We maintain strict levels of hygiene, but I strongly advise following the condom rule with the toys anyway. There are also two dance poles available, each of which has a strict 230-pound weight limit. And of course, our trademark orgy room is set up tonight for a maximum capacity of 30, due to size constraints and building codes, you understand. Lastly, on this floor, we have a clothing check—that’s me—and a full bar in the kitchen that is included with the price of admission, and—”
Her brow crinkled with concern.
“I’m sorry sir, but are you here with someone else—a woman, perhaps? I
don’t mean to be rude, but single men are strictly forbidden. The gentleman at the door should have explained this to you before you were allowed entrance. Rules are rules, I’m afraid.”
“I am well aware of the importance of rules,” I said as I let my eyes glow red with the power of hellfire. “In fact, that’s why I’m here.”
When Sam saw what I was, her eyes opened wide and her face tightened, but she wasn’t frightened the way she should have been. She was one hundred percent human, but I wasn’t the first supernatural creature she’d seen.
I wondered just how many other humans in Ashburn knew the truth.
“My apologies,” she said with a quiver that struggled to become a smile. “I didn’t realize you were—one of them. Of course, you are welcome here without a ticket or a companion. Please enjoy your visit and let me know if I can be of further assistance. There are several women—and men—here tonight who would be more than happy to—”
“Who’s throwing this party?” I said. “Who owns this house?”
She frowned, and her left hand started to shake.
“Jack and Melissa are your hosts for the evening,” she said, smiling. “We don’t usually divulge the last names of those kind enough to invite us into their home, but I can assure you they are both trustworthy and discreet.”
“Does everyone here know about—my kind?”
“Oh, no sir,” she said with a vigorous shake of her head. “I work for Ms. Oizys, serving at this and other supernatural functions as one of her trusted and official minions. I assure you there are very few humans here tonight who know of your existence.”
“Where is Oizys now?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer to my question.
“The last I saw her, she was downstairs in the activity room,” Samantha said with a wide smile.
With a nod, I turned away and walked toward the main living room. I made it as far as the leather couch before a squatty man wearing a black leather vest and chaps bumped into me. He started to apologize, but then he recognized me.
“What a surprise finding you here,” Chaz said. “I spoke with your girlfriend downstairs just a few minutes ago. I have never been very keen on she-demons, but I must say, Sybil is one succubus who is A-OK in my book.”
“It’s good to see you too,” I said, looking over his head and scanning the room. “You said Sybil was in the basement?”
He nodded, then leaned closer so I could hear him over the thumping of the music.
“You know a lot of women,” he said. “I was wondering if you had any suggestions for someone with whom I might get along. A lady who likes music and nature, perhaps? A nice girl. But not too nice, if you know what I mean. Oh, and a human is fine with me. I am not prejudiced. But no fallen angels. They have too much drama.”
“I’ll see who I run into tonight,” I said as I mentally filed his request at the very end of my to-do list.
Chaz nodded with a smile and was about to leave me alone. But then he glanced at my hip, and his smile soured into a frown.
“Is that all that remains of the guitar I gave you?” he asked, pointing at Gus. “I put a piece of my spirit into that instrument.”
I started to explain, but Chaz’s face turned dark and sullen, and his eyes opened wide, unblinking.
“You were not invited to this party,” he said in a deep, disembodied voice that rattled my gut.
“Look, I’m sorry about the guitar,” I said as I realized something was wrong with my old buddy Chaz. I had no idea whether or not a demon was capable of possessing a god, but his eyes were crazy and wild like Miguel’s had been outside the pub, and I could tell Chaz wasn’t in control anymore.
Chaz-not-Chaz grabbed a drink from a person standing next to him and chugged the glass down in one shot. Although impressive, it seemed an odd thing for a possessed god to do.
“You know nothing, demon enforcer,” he said as he wiped his chin. “And now you will die.”
Before I understood what was happening, Chaz lunged at me with god-like speed, grabbed my throat with one hand, and drew his other hand back, ready to strike. His fist glowed so brightly with white magic that it left spots in my vision. While my brain was still figuring out what to do, my body—John’s body—reacted, twisting in the direction of Chaz’s grip and striking the inside of his elbow as hard as I could. He released my throat as his arm went numb, and I unsheathed my dagger, its edge glowing a deep blood red. I didn’t want to hurt Chaz. After all, he was sort of a friend, and it wasn’t his fault his body was being used by an invading spirit to kill me. Suppressing my instinct, I held out my blade and barely touched his chest. As soon as the metal made contact, Chaz was thrown across the room, sending partiers scrambling out of the way.
I didn’t know who or what was pulling Chaz’s strings, but at the top of the list was a certain demonic goat who seemed to hate me. My other guess was Oizys herself. I had to assume that if I could possess people, she could, too. And if she and the Mendes Goat were working together—well...then, shit.
Before I could finish my thought, Chaz literally flew across the room and slammed into me so hard that my body broke half-way through the opposite wall. As I sat on the floor, trying to clear my head, naked people stampeded toward the exits only to discover the front and back doors were suddenly gone—vanished. Soon, twenty-some people were bunched up at each end of the house, fighting each other to escape through doors that were no longer there.
“Check the windows,” someone yelled.
One of the more ambitious naked people pulled back a gauzy pink curtain to reveal a solid wall where the window should have been.
The entire house had turned into a trap—one set by Oizys.
I picked up my dagger and stood ready to face Chaz again. I’d set out to stop Oizys from leaving town, but I was more worried at the moment about the possessed god trying to kick my ass and the frenzied humans who might end up as collateral damage.
Chaz floated slowly toward me, a wild, maniacal smile plastered on his face. I held the glowing red dagger with one hand and drew Gus with the other.
Anger churned in my gut, and I let all vestiges of my human guise slip away as my internal magic filled my veins like electricity. I welcomed the rise of my demonic nature as it spread through me and steeled me for battle.
Chaz saw the change spreading through my body and reached into his vest pocket. He pulled out a horrid, flesh-colored rope that looked like it was woven from animal innards. It crackled with white energy, just like Gus, and I backed away, wary of what his new weapon could do. Faster than I could see, he lashed out with the rope, using it like a whip and wrapping it tightly around my neck. It pulsed with a life of its own as he jerked me toward him like a dog on a leash. The rope burned into my neck, and for a second I panicked. I stabbed at it with my dagger, but that only resulted in red and white sparks and a spray of animal intestines.
As the rope tightened, blackness crept in from the sides of my vision. In a move of desperation, I hefted Gus as high as possible and brought its wooden edge down hard on the rope. The sharpened neck sliced through the woven flesh with ease, and I fell backward onto the floor, with the end of Chaz’s rope still wrapped around my neck.
I ripped the disgusting rope from me and looked up to see Chaz slumped over on the floor, unmoving. I crawled over to him and turned him onto his back. Just as I did, someone smashed a heavy bottle against my head. It hurt as much as if someone had whacked me with an empty Solo cup, but it still pissed me off.
I looked up and saw a mostly naked, middle-aged man standing over me, with that same crazy look Chaz had been sporting only moments ago.
This guy had huge shoulders and a hard, protruding gut that made me think he used to be a football player. I snarled and coiled myself, ready to take him out, but I stopped cold as my stomach erupted in pain. It was Ahriman’s frickin’ spell. I thought it was only there to compel me to enforce his commandments. But I was wrong. It was also there to keep me
from breaking them.
Maybe I could have fought through the pain and attacked the guy anyway, but the momentary pause gave my logical side a chance to engage. If I hit my attacker with even a fraction of my strength, he’d be dead as soon as whatever was possessing him left. My opponent, however, didn’t share my concerns. He squatted over top of me and started punching me in my face and stomach. He gave it all he had, but his blows were like falling snow on my demon flesh.
I held up my hand and smacked his head just hard enough to knock him out without doing any lasting damage.
An instant later, another human came at me from behind. When I turned to face him, he fainted.
It happened again, and again—each human with the same crazy smile and wide-open eyes. The expression passed from one face to the next as dozens of naked partygoers took their best shot at me, one-by-one, before each crumpled to the ground, discarded by the evil spirit inside them.
I swatted each of them away as I tried to understand what was going on. Chaz had been a good choice, filled with godly powers to use against me, but the people being possessed now were useless.
Or were they?
Sure, they couldn’t hurt me, but they were great at doing one thing—distracting me from why I’d come to the party in the first place—to stop Oizys from leaving and to keep her from harming any more humans.
Chapter 46
FISTS, FEET, AND ELBOWS tried to stop me from reaching the door to the basement stairs. None of them really hurt, but they slowed me down.
When I finally made it there, I fought my way into the stairwell and pulled the door shut behind me. I went to lock it, but I cursed out loud as I realized the lock was on the other side of the door.
I saw the blade of my dagger pulsing with crimson magic and moved it to the doorknob. When the two metals touched, the brass doorknob turned bright red and melted in place. I knew it wouldn’t hold back the people on the other side of the door forever, but I hoped it would buy me enough time to find Oizys.
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