Devil's Due (Luther Cross Book 1)

by Percival Constantine

  “Someone’s tired of waiting,” said Asmodeus. “But openly defying the Host like that…no angel has done such a thing since—”

  “The Fall.” I looked across at Conley. “What do you know about the Minister? Tell me everything. Starting with his name.”

  “Joseph. Joseph Luxton.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  “He was a priest at St. John’s a long time ago, back when I was a kid. But then, about thirty or so years ago, he just disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” I asked.

  Conley nodded.

  “What happened to him?”

  “When I started working at the church, the senior priest told me Father Luxton had experienced a crisis of faith.”

  “And why was that?” I asked.

  “Because his wife died. Suicide. Although there were rumors she was having an affair. Some even suspected that maybe her death wasn’t a suicide at all. Luxton would come to the church drunk, he’d lash out at people, deliver these sermons of fire and brimstone. And then he just left. All that time, he was gone. Until one day about a year or two ago, I was working late and he came to the church.”

  “Let me guess,” said Asmodeus. “He sought forgiveness?”

  Conley closed his eyes and gave a solemn nod. “Yes. I decided to give him a chance. The man had gone through tragedy. He told me all about his travels across the country—across the world, even. Missionary work in Africa, building homes in South America, visiting the great churches of Europe, going wherever The Word took him. I felt after everything he’d done, he’d earned a second chance.”

  “You were wrong,” I said.

  He sighed. “Evidently, you’re right. Because now I’m sitting in the car with a demon and a…what did the angel call you?”

  “Cambion,” I said. “Half-demon, half-human.”

  “Right…” Conley looked apprehensive. Then he knelt over, burying his face in his hands. “Oh, God…”

  “I don’t think he has anything to do with this,” said Asmodeus between puffs of his cigarette. “Stopped caring a long time ago.”

  “Do you know where I can find Luxton?” I asked.

  Conley looked up, rubbing his eyes. “He…he had a farm somewhere upstate.”

  I groaned. “Any other places?”

  He shook his head. “No, I can’t think of any.”

  “Great.” I shook my head and drew on the cigarette. “No idea where he is, his guardian angel is keeping us from locating him, and he’s probably got Dakota now.”

  Asmodeus rubbed his chin. “Guardian angel, hmm?”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “What about it?”

  “Maybe you’re asking the wrong people for help, Luther. Maybe what you need is someone a bit more connected to the celestial line. Someone you’re supposed to be working for, perhaps?”

  Naturally, I’d thought about going to him. But I’d been suspicious about trying. For all I knew, he could be in on this whole thing, playing me from the very start. And if that was the case, I didn’t want to tip my hand too early, not until I knew for certain. I was running out of options, though, and as much as I hated to admit it, Asmodeus was right. It was time to return to Eden and have another sit-down with Raziel.

  “Take me back to my car,” I said. “I’ve got work to do."

  Dakota Reed didn’t know where she was. The last thing she remembered, she had been sitting in Tessa’s basement. They’d just completed the ritual and Luther told her it wasn’t a demon that had impregnated her—it was an angel.

  After that, she’d blacked out. Dakota was in a dark void somewhere within herself. She could hear Luther and Tessa’s voices, but they were so distant and soft, it was like they were shouting at her from far away.

  Then there was a bright flood of light. And the next thing Dakota knew, she woke up…here. In the middle of a field covered with tall grass. She stared up at the white clouds in the sky and the bright, afternoon sun shining down upon her. Instinctively, her hand went to her pockets, but then she realized she didn’t have a phone. Not anymore—not since her and the other girls went to see the Minister.

  Dakota sat up and looked around, brushing her long, blond hair from her eyes. She couldn’t see any landmarks she recognized. Nothing but flat land and tall grass that seemed to go on for eternity. She got to her feet and brushed herself off.

  Pain shot through her belly. Dakota hunched over, placing both hands on her stomach. It wasn’t like anything she felt before. There was something different about this—hard for her to describe, but it didn’t feel like physical pain. Deeper than that. Like her heart was being torn in half, with seemingly no cause at all.

  Dakota breathed heavily, trying to move. Strangely enough, it seemed that walking helped the pain subside. It felt like she was being pulled towards something. That alone worried her. Was it the baby? Was it trying to tell her to go somewhere?

  “No…” said Dakota, coming to a stop. “I know what you want. And I’m not going back there.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  A voice. Inside her head.

  “We have to be together, Mother. It’s time for us to become a family.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want anything to do with your family.”

  Though she tried to resist, Dakota found herself taking another step forward with her right foot. Her left moved off the ground and she attempted to force it back down. Her leg ignored the command, moving forward and taking another step.

  “How are you doing this?”

  “That witch weakened me. But I still have some power over you.”

  “Witch…?” Flashes appeared in Dakota’s mind. Luther being thrown across the room. Tessa lying on the ground, drawing a sigil with her blood. A sudden burst of light. Her eyes widened at the recollection of the memories. “You took control of my body…”

  “I saved you from those who associate with the darkness, Mother. Together, with Father, we’ll bring paradise to Earth. I will be the new messiah. I will destroy the demons and save mankind from itself.”

  The words sounded nice. To purge the planet of evil, to save humanity. But what about the methods? Dakota had seen firsthand what a deranged obsession could do to a person. And she knew about what the nephilim had done in the past. Could she really trust it? Or its father—whoever that was?

  “Dakota.”

  She froze. The voice, sweet and tender. Dakota was afraid to turn around, because she knew what would be waiting for her when she did. But the nephilim forced her to. Slowly, she turned, and there, she saw them. Chelsea, Lynn, and Rachel. All standing behind her in a row, all wearing identical plain, white dresses.

  “It’s okay, Dakota,” said Lynn, moving closer to her and holding out her hand. Her smile was gentle and compassionate. “We’re here to take you home.”

  “No, you don’t understand. The Minister, he killed Darlene. And what he did to me—” Dakota choked on her words. “You don’t want to go through the same thing, believe me.”

  “But we’ve been chosen,” said Chelsea. “We’re like the Virgin Mary.”

  “We’re not—I’m not,” said Dakota. “We’re just tools for them to use, the Minister and whoever he’s working for.”

  “He works for the Lord,” said Rachel. “We have a holy mission to accomplish.”

  All Dakota could think about was their eyes—how lifeless and dead they looked. All three of them were still under the Minister’s thrall. And while Dakota was so focused on that, she didn’t realize what the nephilim was doing until it was too late.

  She screamed, collapsing to her knees and keeling over on the ground. “Wh-what’s happening?”

  The girls ran to her, kneeling by her side. She felt their gentle hands upon her, slowly guiding her up and helping her to her feet. Dakota felt her arms being draped around shoulders as two of the girls supported her. And in her head was the voice.

  “It’s time to go home now, Mother.”

  26


  Fortunately for me, Azrael didn’t do any damage to my car. Couldn’t say the same for the church, though. Poor Father Conley looked mortified once he saw what the Angel of Death’s grudge match with the hellhounds had done to his church.

  I felt bad for the guy, so I gave him some cash for his trouble. Wasn’t much, but I had to do something. He didn’t really know anything, just someone caught in the crossfire. At least he still had his life, but if Azrael came after me again, who knew if I could prevent a body count?

  Going to Eden was a big risk—that’s what I kept thinking as I drove down Lake Shore Drive. Azrael would definitely be able to find me there, but it was also the only way I could speak to Raziel. And at the very least, violence wasn’t permitted on the grounds of an embassy. If anyone attempted to throw a punch, the enchantments would zap them right back outside. But if Azrael knew I was there, then as soon as I set foot outside Eden, he could be waiting. And then he’d have me dead to rights.

  Yeah, this was a bad plan.

  I took the Grand Avenue exit to Lower Wacker, following the path of the Chicago River until I could see Willis Tower in the distance. I turned left on Wells Street and followed that until I reached the parking garage, then drove up to the roof and turned off the engine, staring out my window at the skyscraper across the street.

  I sighed and reached over to the glovebox to retrieve the revolver and dagger. This constant paranoia was already starting to drive me nuts. Last time I’d come here, I got attacked by two pissant demons. Now I had the Angel of freaking Death on my ass.

  Part of me was tempted to give up on this job. Just start the car again, drive out of here, and head over to Celeste’s place in Lincoln Park. Just lose ourselves in each other, awash in a wave of sex and booze and blood.

  Right. And then once Dakota gave birth to that nephilim, Heaven and Hell could start prepping for the end. Then comes the Apocalypse and it’s game over for everybody. The entire world is consumed by war and famine and pestilence and death.

  I sighed and lowered my visor, looking at myself in the mirror. Yeah, you’re a selfish bastard, Luther Cross, but even you can see the writing on the wall. Like it or not, there was no turning back. Even if I did leave, Azrael would find me sooner or later and he’d jam that soulfire sword right through my chest.

  Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don’t: The Luther Cross Story.

  Time to face this thing. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves, then opened the door, locked the car, and took the stairs down to the first level before crossing the street to Willis Tower.

  I followed the same drill as last time—got on the elevator with others and just waited. But now I was paranoid—I was stealing glances at them the entire time. A few stared at me, though I didn’t know if they were staring because they were out to get me or because I creeped them out.

  Try to ignore it. Just get up to Eden and then you’ll be fine.

  The final passengers disembarked after the elevator reached the top floor. Once again, I repeated the ritual—tracing a symbol with my finger on the blank space above the buttons and muttering the Enochian incantation. The button for Eden appeared and I pressed it.

  The doors opened into light and I stepped out. Eden was as packed as ever. And now I really felt paranoid. Several people were staring at me, but here, no one gave a shit about how creepy I was, which meant people were suspicious. Rumors were no doubt flying around. Chances were pretty good someone had heard about my little confrontation with Azrael.

  I scanned the first level, but couldn’t see any sign of Azrael, so that, at least, was good. I also didn’t see Raziel, though, which didn’t fill me with confidence. Would have to just wait, see how things played out.

  I went to the bar and slid onto a stool, resting my hands on the pristine white counter.

  The bartender came over to me, the smile on his face vanishing as soon as he saw me. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “What can I get you, Cross?”

  “Laphroaig,” I said. “Neat.”

  He nodded and poured the scotch into a tumbler, then set it in front of me. I downed it in one gulp, then set it back on the counter and asked for a refill.

  The bartender sighed. “Want me to just leave the bottle?”

  “That’d be helpful,” I said. “And while you’re at it, tell Raziel I’d like a word.”

  “A word, huh? This got anything to do with something I heard about some black dogs attacking a church?”

  “Just do it.”

  The bartender sighed and turned away. “I’ll see if I can find him.”

  I tried to follow the man with my eyes, but he soon disappeared into the crowd and I lost sight of him. Instead of trying to find him, I lit a cigarette and watched the rest of the room, keeping an eye out for any other interesting parties.

  I’d never felt like I had a bigger target on my back than right now. My hand even shook a little as I raised an unlit cigarette to my lips—couldn’t even remember the last time that had happened. Somehow, I managed to calm myself enough to successfully light the cigarette, and I inhaled deeply, hoping it would relax me.

  Naturally, it didn’t.

  I needed some air. I picked up my drink and crossed the floor, moving out to the large balcony overlooking the city. Or overlooking an interdimensional window to the city, or however that whole thing worked out. I leaned against the railing and glanced over the edge, down at Chicago below. It did make me wonder, what would happen if someone jumped or was thrown over the edge? Would they hit Wacker Drive or fall into an endless abyss?

  “My God, they’ll let anyone in here, won’t they?”

  I turned around and leaned against the railing, taking a sip of scotch as I examined the angel who stood in front of me. He wore a white suit and a black shirt with a mandarin collar. His shaggy, black hair looked like ink against his pale skin and iridescent blue eyes.

  “Pyriel,” I said. “You don’t tend to come down to Earth very much, do you?”

  “Technically, I’m not on Earth, I’m in the embassy,” said Pyriel, calmly walking towards me with a martini glass in his hand.

  “What brings you here?” I asked.

  Pyriel shrugged. “A guy can’t visit his brother?” He came up beside me and leaned against the railing as well, sipping his martini. “Now, what brings you here?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at the city below. “I like the view.”

  Pyriel scoffed. “Well, you’ll never get closer to Heaven than this, I can tell you that much.”

  I ignored him. Maybe he was right. Yeah, I’d saved a few people in my time, but many others had died on my watch, too. And then there was the whole half-demon thing. But I wasn’t about to let Pyriel rattle me. The guy was a pain in the ass, but otherwise harmless.

  I kept watch on the balcony entrance, puffing on my cigarette. In the distance, I could see the staircase leading down from Raziel’s private area, and I watched as a figure descended the steps. I stood up straight, watching the crowd and I could see them moving aside to make way for Raziel, his brandy glass in hand.

  My heartbeat quickened. I was already getting nervous about what Raziel would say. And I hoped that Azrael wasn’t hiding in a closet somewhere, waiting to jump out and decapitate me.

  “Gentlemen,” said Raziel with a smile. “So good to see the two of you getting along.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Pyriel chuckled and slapped a hand on my shoulder. “Luther here is Robin to my Batman.”

  I took the cigarette from my mouth and replaced it with a generous gulp of scotch. If I said what I was thinking, I just might get to see what happens when someone falls from Eden. Wasn’t exactly a question I was in any kind of rush to have answered.

  “Brother, would you mind excusing us?” asked Raziel. “Luther and I have some business to discuss.”

  Pyriel gave me a side glance and then flashed a smile as his brother. “Of course.” He shook his now-empty glass. “Think I need a refill anyway.”

>   Raziel sipped the brandy while he watched Pyriel retreat inside the club. As soon as he was sure we were alone, he started talking. “You want to tell me what in God’s name is going on, Luther?”

  “That’s exactly what I was going to ask you.” I finished my scotch and set the empty glass on a nearby table. “Take it you heard how I was touched by an angel a few hours ago?”

  “Of course I heard!” Raziel sighed. “When someone like Azrael is sent to Earth, that means someone high up on the celestial chain of command is either very scared or very pissed. And I need to know what could possibly cause that.”

  “Remember how I told you some archdemon was breeding a cambion army?”

  Raziel nodded. “So that’s what this is about. The Divine Choir must’ve learned about it and then sent Azrael to stop it.”

  “Not quite. No demons are involved in this at all. An angel is trying to breed nephilim.”

  Silence followed, quickly broken by the sound of glass shattering. I looked down and saw the broken shards of Raziel’s glass on the ground, coated in spilled brandy. When I looked at him again, I saw something I’d never seen in the face of any angel. Something that chilled me to my bone. Terror.

  When an angel is scared, that’s when you know things are really bad.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said.

  “You’re damn right I’m serious, and I want to know just what exactly is going on upstairs!” I tossed the cigarette on the ground and grabbed Raziel by the collar of his tuxedo shirt, pulling him close to me. “Did you know about this?”

  Raziel remained calm. “Luther, this suit is worth more than your apartment. Either remove your hands from my person, or I’ll do it for you.”

  I sighed and let him go. “What do we do now?”

  Raziel shook his head and placed his hands on the railing, leaning against it. “I wish I knew.”

  “Azrael said there was a contract on my head. Asmodeus knew about it, too.”

  “Asmodeus?” asked Raziel. “How did he know but I didn’t?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe you’re not as clued in as you think, Raz.”