by Kris Greene
“Oh, Katie.” Gabriel moved towards her, but Rogue grabbed him roughly by the arm.
“Are you crazy? She’s dead and we’re not, and if you wanna keep it that way, I suggest you get your ass in gear.” Rogue half-dragged Gabriel down the alley. He knew that if the shadow demon didn’t kill Gabriel, Dutch would. With the shadow barrier broken, all guarantees of secrecy were off. In a matter of seconds that alley was going to be teeming with angry witches and warlocks.
Moses got to his feet slowly, seeming to gain substance as he went. His inky black eyes studied Rogue and a look of recognition crossed his face. “I’ve heard stories of you, mage. They call you the Stalker with a soul.” It was true. Rogue shared his body with a demon but had not had to sacrifice his soul in the bargain.
“And they’re gonna call you a fucking ambulance if you don’t crawl back to whatever hole you slunk out of. There’s nothing here for you, demon; go back to the shadows.” Rogue pointed both revolvers at Moses and backed away slowly, keeping Gabriel and the demon in view.
“We are of the same, mage. Don’t fight; take your place in glory when darkness consumes the world,” Moses offered.
“Eternal darkness?” Rogue pondered out loud. “I think I’ll pass.” He fired his revolvers. The regular bullets passed right through Moses, and the enchanted ones were swallowed by the shadows before they could do any harm.
“I’m not so easily fooled twice.” Moses smirked. The shadows opened up and the enchanted bullets fell harmlessly to the ground. “If you won’t stand at my side, then you’ll die at my feet.” Moses called the shadows to him.
“What the fuck is this?” Angel came barreling out the side door into the alley. He was flanked by Lisa and Lane.
When Moses turned his head in the direction of the new threat, Rogue made his move. He lashed out with a shadow band and grabbed one of the officers. Rogue hurled the officer into Moses as hard as he could, grabbed Gabriel, and hauled ass down the alley.
“I wouldn’t wanna be you pricks when Dutch catches wind of this.” Angel looked around at the dead bodies.
“I’ll have to ask you people to step back, this being a police matter and all,” the cop with the buzz cut said.
“You’re a cop and I’m the queen of England.” Lisa called up her magic. Both her fists and the spider perched in her hair glowed unnaturally. She watched as the shadows snaked around Moses patching the wounds Rogue’s gun had inflicted.
“Fucking shadow demons, I knew it would be shadow demons,” Lane said, drawing her buck knife and moving to circle Moses and his fake cops.
“The shadows have no quarrel with the Black King. Stay out of this, little witches,” Moses warned.
“Afraid we can’t. See, if Dutch finds out that we let you drop these mortals and hightail it, it’ll look pretty fucked up on us.” Angel drew his guns from beneath his leather blazer. “Let’s all go inside and have a little chat with the king.”
In response Moses unleashed a flurry of shadow bands. Angel was quick, even by a vampire’s standards, but the shadows were quicker. The bands bound his legs and arms and began to pull. Angel howled out in pain as the shadows broke all his arms and legs. Moses turned his attention to the witches and found them moving on him. One of the officers placed himself between Moses and the advancing witches, firing his Glock wildly. With the first swipe of her buck knife Lane erected a shield to deflect the bullets, and with the second swipe she cut the officer’s throat.
The remaining officers stood back-to-back, trying to cut down the witches with their guns, but Lisa and Lane moved with amazing speed. They leapt around the officers in what looked like a complex dance, leaving a trail of silky webbing in their wake. By the time the officers had fired off the last of their bullets they found themselves bound in webs that felt like steel and at the mercy of the witches. Moving in a coordinated strike, the witches plunged their knives into the chests of the officers, freeing them from their pact with the shadow master.
Lisa and Lane advanced on Moses, tossing their blades back and forth between each other. “Your turn,” Lane snarled.
“Foolish witches. You will rue the day you crossed the Dark Order, but I’m afraid that I will have to wait for another night to take your life, as I have quarry to attend to.” Moses melted into a pool of shadow and made his exit.
“I hate fucking shadow demons,” Lane said, re-sheathing her blade. “We gotta get hold of Asha and tell her about this.”
“I think she already knows.” Lisa pointed to a nearby streetlight. Azuma sat perched atop it, watching the scene below. “Let’s get back inside and report this to Dutch.” Lisa headed back for the side door, with her sister close behind.
“Hey, are you guys just gonna leave me here like this?” Angel called after them. His arms and legs were twisted at impossible angles, but his mouth was still moving at a thousand miles a minute. “At least if you’re not gonna help me outside, toss me a warm body so I can fix my fucking legs!”
Asha stared aimlessly through the windshield of her black VW Bug as Azuma transmitted what he was seeing from his hiding spot in the alley. She watched in amazement as the long-haired young man called forth a brilliant trident that seemed to shake the earth. She didn’t know what the thing was, but she did know that it was the source of the disturbance she had felt.
For as much power as the young man and his weapon gave off, it was a one-sided fight against the shadow demon. She knew she’d felt someone cast shadow magic inside the club, but the power coming from the demon felt different. Whereas the demon reeked of malevolent darkness, the caster of the shadow spell hadn’t felt so intense. Just then she felt the second pinprick of power manifest. Azuma’s focus shifted and another man came into view. Before he’d even cast the magic, she knew that he was the one she had felt.
Through Azuma’s eyes she could see the man clearly. Physically she found him breathtakingly handsome, but upon closer inspection she frowned. The shadow caster was without a doubt some type of mage or sorcerer, but there was something else to him. She had Azuma move as close as he dared so that she could try to get a feel for the man’s aura, and that’s when a pair of soft brown eyes turned to look at her. Rogue was still facing the demon, but the eyes of his other face watched Azuma intently. He stiffened as if he had felt Asha’s probing and smiled at the monkey. The next thing Asha knew, pain exploded in her head and the connection was broken.
“What the fuck?” Asha rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. When the throbbing in her head subsided she tried to reestablish the connection with Azuma but couldn’t. Fearing the worst, she reached out to him with her mind and soul. Azuma was unharmed but frightened almost beyond reasoning. She tried to get him to go back, but the monkey refused. Whatever Azuma had seen must have been horrific if it made him defy Asha.
“That’s okay. Where magic fails, science will surely prevail,” Asha said to herself, pulling a small laptop from the backseat. Her fingers floated expertly as she entered the information Azuma had transmitted about the magical trident into the WHD database. The WHD, or Witch Hunting Device, was a vast network of information hoarded away by the elders that was said to go as far back as the Great Parting. The system held pertinent information on different supernatural races and events throughout their history, making it easier for the Hunt to study their targets for weaknesses. The loading sign flashed while the bar below it slowly filled up. When the computer had finished its search a name was highlighted in red.
“What the hell is a Nimrod?” She scratched her head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Gabriel stumbled along trying his best not to fall as Rogue pulled him down the alley. The Nimrod had returned to its tattooed state, but he could feel it moving just beneath his skin, ready to be called back to battle. Behind him he could hear gunfire and the sounds of battle, but he was too afraid to turn around. All he kept seeing was the faces of his dead friends and the all-consuming shadows. He and Rogue emerged from the other end of t
he alley onto a busy street. Gabriel found it odd that no one gave the bloody young man or his gun-wielding partner a second look.
“I’ve cloaked us in shadow so they can’t see us,” Rogue answered the question on Gabriel’s face.
“Shadows? You’re one of them.” Gabriel backpedaled, almost breaking their cover. Rogue had to stay within a foot or two of the young man to keep them both masked.
“Gabriel, would you calm down? You know me; I’m just as human as you are,” Rogue insisted.
“After what I’ve seen tonight I’m not sure what I know.” Gabriel reared his arm back and with little more than a thought he called the lightning to his hand. It seemed like the longer he stayed in contact with the Nimrod, the easier it was becoming to manifest its power.
Rogue aimed the enchanted gun at Gabriel. “Kid, if I wanted to hurt you I would’ve let the shadows have you in the alley. Gabriel, I owe your grandfather a great debt. He was a friend to me when I didn’t have any, which is why I not only saved your ass but haven’t shot you in the face yet. But if you try to use that thing on me, all bets are off,” Rogue said in a tone that let Gabriel know he was serious.
“The walking dead is what his people call him behind closed doors. Beware the dark mages and what they represent, young Hunter. You do not want your immortal soul in their hands,” the Bishop warned.
Gabriel regarded Rogue. Gabriel had met Rogue when he was fourteen and his grandfather was still teaching at the university. The day Redfeather had first brought Rogue to the house he introduced him as a friend of the family whom they could turn to in times of trouble. He would visit the house every so often to speak with Gabriel’s grandfather of whatever secrets they’d kept between them. More than a few times Rogue would spend hours during his visits quizzing Gabriel about school and life. In light of all Gabriel had been through he was distrustful of everyone, but Rogue had been kind to him. Reluctantly Gabriel extinguished the lightning.
“Thank you,” Rogue said, putting his gun away. “Are you okay?” He motioned towards the wound Moses had given Gabriel.
Gabriel looked at his collar and expected it to be a mess, but the wound had already begun to heal. “I guess.” Gabriel touched the spot tenderly. “Rogue, what’s going on?”
“We can play connect the dots once we’re away from here. I seriously doubt if two witches and a vampire could’ve done much other than slow a demon as strong as that one. We need to put as much distance between you and him as possible.” Rogue led the way down the street.
“Do you think he’ll come after me again?” Gabriel asked nervously.
“He’s tasted your blood, so you can count on it. Besides, thanks to your new friend you’re the most wanted man in the city.” Rogue motioned towards Gabriel’s arm.
“Rogue, I don’t want any part of this thing. If I knew how to get rid of it I would’ve already,” Gabriel said.
“What you’re toting around is not easily lost once it’s found you,” Rogue said.
“You sound just like my grandfather and everyone else who’s been speaking to me in riddles all night.”
“Where is Redfeather? Is he okay?” Rogue asked.
“I don’t know; he was gone when I came to.” Gabriel went on to tell Rogue about how De Mona had brought him the Nimrod and then vanished with his grandfather.
“Demons and a possessed relic, geez, and I thought I had rotten luck.” Rogue hit the automatic start on his Viper. The two hopped into the car and Rogue merged with traffic. “Which side is she fighting on?” Rogue asked about the Valkrin.
“Honestly, I don’t know. She helped when the Stalkers jumped us near my school, but at this point I don’t know who’s on whose side. I just know that we need to find my grandfather. If something has happened to him because of this thing . . .” Gabriel got choked up.
“Don’t worry; Redfeather is a tough old bird. Wherever he is, we’ll find him.” Rogue swerved around a slow-moving car and hit the gas. Gabriel watched Rogue steer the car expertly, even though it was in the middle of the night and he was still wearing sunglasses.
“What’s with the shades?” Gabriel finally asked.
“These?” Rogue tapped his shades. “The glasses and the car come with the job,” he joked.
“I’m serious, Rogue. I’ve never seen you without those glasses. What’re you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything, kid,” Rogue lied.
“Rogue, if you want me to trust you then you’ve gotta give me a reason. I saw the way you worked those shadows in the alley, just like the demon. I’ve already figured you to be some type of magician, but those shadow bands were more than just magic. What are you?” Rogue took his glasses off and turned to Gabriel. Gabriel’s mouth dropped open when he saw the stars dancing in the dark pits. “So, you are a demon.” Gabriel reached for the door handle.
“Gabriel, chill out.” Rogue hit the automatic locks, trapping Gabriel inside. “I’m not a demon; I’m human.”
“Rogue, humans don’t have outer space in their eyes.” Gabriel kept tugging at the door. Rogue could see Gabriel’s aura flaring, so he pulled over.
“Gabriel, if you don’t calm down you’re gonna set off you-know-who. If you give me a minute I can explain it to you.” Gabriel stopped fumbling with the door, but he was still eyeing Rogue cautiously. “Look at me and tell me what you think I am.”
“How the hell would I know?”
“Because you will. Now, look at me,” Rogue urged.
Gabriel stared at Rogue. At first Gabriel couldn’t see anything other than the man standing in front of him, but soon the layers began to peel away and he was looking at Rogue with more than his eyes. Rogue’s aura was slightly brighter than that of an average man, but there was more to it. Sprinkled throughout the aura were pockmarks of blackness. As Gabriel looked closer, he thought he saw another face staring back at him from behind Rogue’s.
“I don’t understand. It’s almost like you’re two people.” Gabriel tried to shake the image clear.
“Sometimes it feels like I am. I’m human like you, but I’m also a mage. My family is from the house of Thanos.”
Gabriel looked at Rogue disbelievingly. “From what I’ve read about mages, you guys are supposed to be humans who can work magic. That still doesn’t explain what’s going on with your eyes.”
“Yes, we can work magic, but there are some of us who seek to do more than work it. Some want to control it, which is how my eyes got like this,” Rogue admitted.
“So you tried to work a spell that went wrong?” Gabriel asked. He seemed calmer now, so Rogue kept talking.
“It wasn’t my spell, but I ended up catching the worst of it. We managed to send the demon home, but not without a price. With demons there’s always a price.” The stars in Rogue’s eyes danced as he thought back on the bargain. “The eyes I sacrificed saved dozens of lives. But it still didn’t stop me from hating them or myself after the fact. When I got these eyes it was your father who helped me get through it.”
“My father? How did you know him?” Gabriel was now very interested in Rogue’s story.
“Peter and I were college buddies back when I was still doing stuff to piss my dad off. After graduation I went to the police academy and he went back to New York, where he ended up marrying his childhood sweetheart and getting back with the circus. When I had my little situation,” he touched his eye, “I turned my back completely on my family and spell casting, so I was on my own with trying to figure out how to adjust to my new handicap. I knew Peter’s dad had knowledge of the arcane, so I sought them out. When I showed up in New York I was blind and half-insane, but Redfeather welcomed me with open arms. He and Peter helped me to understand that I was not a part of my eyes; they were a part of me.”
“It seems like the deeper I get, the more I’m learning about my father.” Gabriel laughed.
“Your father was a good dude, Gabriel. One day we’ll get together and I can tell you some stories, but first we gotta
find a way to part you and Mr. Happy.” Rogue pointed at Gabriel’s arm.
“I’ve been trying, but short of lopping my arm off I can’t figure a way.” Gabriel rolled his sleeve up and showed Rogue the tattoo.
Rogue studied the tattoo, letting his eyes translate what he was seeing. The clouds rolled over the ocean while the Nimrod stood defiantly on Gabriel’s forearm. “That’s something you don’t see every day. Try to call it again; maybe I can get a better idea of how to get rid of it if it’s solid.”
Gabriel extended his arm and concentrated. He could hear the thunder rolling and the tattoo moved, but it wouldn’t come to him. “I am still master of the storms, upstart. It will be a while before it recognizes you as my successor,” the Bishop told him.
“Nothing.” Gabriel shrugged.
“That’s okay; it’ll show its face again sooner or later,” Rogue said. He pushed the Viper through the busy streets, occasionally looking in the rearview mirror to make sure they weren’t being followed. He knew that they’d had a pretty good lead on the shadow demon, but he also knew that it was still looking.
“Where’re we going?” Gabriel asked, noticing the signs leading to the West Side Highway.
“To Brooklyn. I’ve got a buddy who might be able to help us with your little problem, as well as find your grandfather. I don’t know how I feel about him running around with a demon, especially one we know so little about.”
“You think she’s done something to him?”
Rogue’s grip on the wheel tightened. “For her sake I hope not. The Redfeather clan is like family to me, and if she’s harmed one hair on his head I’m going to see if I can still remember some of that death magic I was taught as a boy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A shadowy figure sat perched atop a mailbox on the quiet residential block. He was draped in thin body armor that was concealed by a worn-looking leather jacket. He had a pleasant brown face of a young man barely into his twenties, but there was timelessness to his eyes giving away his true nature. By right of blood he belonged to the vampire house of Gehenna, but by trade he was the Hound, the most efficient tracker in their ranks.