Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2)

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Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) Page 26

by Morgana Phoenix


  “Half and half?” he asked, extending his hand for half of the papers.

  He passed them over and fished inside his pocket for his keys while Magnus counted out five and held the rest back to him.

  Not waiting, Magnus started down the stairs. There was practically a skip in his step. Gideon followed, not nearly as excited about hunting as his brother. His mind was still in bed with Valkyrie.

  He thought of the girl he had met all those years ago, so desperate for approval. She had been so passionate, so warm and full of life. He had known he loved her from the moment she had been dragged into that clearing. He hadn’t known then who she was, or why she was there, or even that she was his mate. Only that she radiated a light that seemed to pulse with its own life. It had been magnetic, drawing him to her. Or maybe that had been the bond. It didn’t matter. She had been a different person then, and he had loved her with an intensity that burned hotter than any fire.

  Then she changed. She withdrew from him and became the warrior her father had always wanted. The light inside her faded until he could no longer see it. Maybe forever. He still loved her. Whether it was the bond, or actual love, he didn’t know and that worried him.

  Neither he nor Magnus said a word as they crossed to Gideon’s car. He paused with one hand on the door handle.

  “Wait, does this mean...?”

  Over the top of the car, Magnus smirked. “This is why I have a motorcycle.”

  Muttering a curse, Gideon jerked open his door and slid in behind the wheel. Magnus did the same on the other side and they pulled out.

  Eden, with its big front windows and glass door looked to anyone passing by like a normal pet shop. They offered the usual assortment of house pets, their food, and whatever else a pet owner required to care for the creatures. But unlike most business, it harbored a much darker presence.

  The people running it were human. Like most of their business with the mortal world, few were selected by the Summit to assist the Casters in matters that would otherwise draw attention to them. Gideon didn’t know exactly what the process was, or how they were picked, but they always did what they were told without question. Most mortals would. He had a feeling it was because they’d been asked by angels that made them such willing sheep. His kind very seldom had anything kind to say about the holy beings. Humans were revered as precious while creatures from beyond the veil were evil. It was just the way of things. He had learned long ago to just live with it.

  Jonas, the corn child, beamed broadly at them when they pushed through the door and stalked down the dog food aisle to the front.

  Jonas was nineteen and the son of the owner and the entire family was blond, blue-eyed, and freckled. What was worse, they dressed like they were on their way to sell Bibles. Jonas had on a plaid shirt that was tucked into khakis with brown loafers and a fucking bowtie. His wheat blond hair was slicked to the right to show off his many freckles and the eager to please smile on his face. The guy gave Gideon the creeps, which was why he let Magnus do the talking.

  Magnus didn’t talk. He never did. He pulled back the front of his long, dark coat to reveal the blade at his hip. To most people, that meant the store was being held up and to bring forth all the cash from the register. Jonas eyed the blade once, kept smiling as he motioned for them to follow him into the back behind the counter.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” Jonas said excitedly. “Father said you would be by, what with what’s been going on.”

  Magnus shot Gideon a wary glance from over his shoulder.

  “What does your father know about it?” Magnus demanded.

  Jonas looked back. “The killings,” he said like they were talking about the best deal for dog food. “It’s everywhere. Everyone knows.”

  Magnus hummed. “Is that right.” He folded his arm and Gideon suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Did his brother really think he could intimidate this kid? “What exactly does everyone know?”

  The kid just kept on smiling. “Well, that someone’s killing veil creatures and that no one knows who they are or what they want.”

  Magnus arched a brow. “What else?”

  Jonas shrugged. “Nothing else. Is there more?”

  The eagerness in his face was unmistakable.

  Magnus eyed the kid. “Where’s my dogs?”

  Nonplussed by the curt brush off, Jonas turned to the large metal doors built into the back, behind crates of cat litter. A ring of keys hung from the wall by a thread and he snatched them up.

  “You leave the keys to the dog pen just hanging there for anyone to grab?” Magnus growled.

  Blinking his creepy blue doll eyes, Jonas looked down at the brass keys in his hand. “Ma used to have it at the front, but my sister, Sadie would always play with it so Ma moved it here.”

  Gideon wasn’t sure what was more amusing, Jonas’s unwavering honesty, or watching Magnus restrain himself from throttling the kid.

  “Do you have any idea how dangerous those keys are?”

  Jonas eyed the keys again with a new sort of wariness, like he was suddenly not sure they could be trusted. “What should I do with them?”

  Magnus looked to Gideon as if to say, is this kid for fucking real? Gideon just grinned and motioned him to continue.

  “Put them somewhere safe!” Magnus snapped.

  Jonas blinked rapidly. “Can I open the door first?”

  There was no helping it. Gideon burst out laughing. Magnus looked like he was two seconds away from killing someone and Jonas was holding the keys like he was afraid they would grow teeth and bite him.

  “Listen, kid, I’m about to break my oath and beat you bloody with your own damn arm, so I would stop playing stupid and get me my dogs.”

  Not sure which to be more afraid of, Magnus or the keys, Jonas fumbled as he snapped open the lock and pulled the heavy door open. The thing groaned like an unsettled soul in the silence. Gideon casually muffled his next fit of snickers behind a cough and blinked innocently at Magnus when his twin shot him a death glare.

  Nostrils flaring, Magnus marched through the doorway and into the dimly lit chamber beyond. A single square window cast a faint, blue tinge over the concrete walls and the three iron crates taking up most of the space. There were no air holes, or openings to indicate anything living lay dormant inside, but then again, the beasts inside weren’t really alive.

  “Do you think you’ll have them back before suppertime?” Jonas wondered as he moved to the wall behind the door and pulled down two sets of harnesses. “Ma wants me home by six.”

  Stalking over to him, Magnus snatched the first harness out of his small, pale hands and stalked back to the first crate. Jonas stiffened. He started edging towards the door and Gideon.

  Without giving warning, Magnus yanked out the first peg that held the crate sealed. The five inch long nail struck the ground with a grating clang. The second one quickly followed. Then the third. Then the front cracked against the concrete and the crate was open to a deep, dark hole.

  “Karos!” Magnus commanded and pulsing red eyes opened, a low rumble followed.

  Jonas inched closer to Gideon as the first of six paws emerged from the depths, each one the size of saucers and tipped with two inch long talons. The light sparked off the needle sharp points of its claws as they clicked almost menacingly on concrete. Black fur glistened as the beast rose from its crouch and stood to its full two and a half feet of raw, sinewy muscle. It raised its flat head and its tail lashed the air as it sniffed with a ribbed snout.

  “Keese!” Magnus barked, jabbing with one finger to the ground.

  The beast trotted forward obediently and heeled at Magnus’s feet. A long, fat tongue lolled out from between three rows of serrated fangs and it looked up at Magnus with an adoration that almost made Gideon chuckle.

  “Good boy,” Magnus muttered, reaching out a hand and rubbing the hellhound between the ears.

  The thing’s tail whipped excitedly side to side.

  Gideo
n rolled his eyes as he moved to get his own dog out. “You know they’re not actually pets, right?”

  Magnus continued to stroke the beast’s head. “If this isn’t a man’s best friend, I don’t know what is.” Bending down, he began strapping the full body harness over the creature’s back and across its belly, careful to loop the straps around each long leg. “I would take him home if it was allowed.”

  Gideon didn’t doubt it. Magnus had a way with vicious animals that most people would find disturbing. They obeyed him without question and became frighteningly loyal to him. Maybe it was because Magnus himself was as wild and dangerous as they were so they sensed one of their own. It was hard to tell.

  Gideon got the harness on his own dog quickly and held firmly on the leash. They left Jonas to lock up and walked out of Eden.

  “We’ll meet back here in four hours,” Magnus decided, checking his watch.

  Gideon glanced at his own watch and nodded in confirmation. “Watch your back,” he said.

  With a final nod, they parted ways.

  Gideon was unclear what people saw when they looked at the hellhound following noiselessly next to him. He knew they didn’t see it for what it was; humans were endearingly blind that way. To them, it might have been a normal dog, or maybe even invisible entirely. But he knew they saw him, which was fine so long as he didn’t flash them with his weapons.

  He slipped into an alleyway and pulled out the papers crumpled inside his pocket and held out the first one for the hellhound to sniff. Its fat nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the demon’s blood. Its glassy, slit-less red eyes swam with shadows the way he always imagined a gypsy’s crystal ball would.

  Birthed by the flayed flesh of humans, hellhounds were blind by nature and relied solely on scent. But once they had it, there wasn’t a place on heaven, earth, or hell the person could hide that the hound couldn’t find them. Gideon had a sneaking suspicion that was where the expression, a dog with a bone came from.

  The hound let out a low snarl that exposed fangs as long as Gideon’s pointer finger and as sharp as a serrated blade. The hair along its back quivered and rose on end. Gideon tightened his hold on the harness and held his breath, prepared for the worst part of the job.

  It started slow. The hound began to vibrate, faster and faster until it was nearly a blur. The leash connecting him to Gideon shuddered and started to fade as the beast did. When it reached Gideon’s hand, he gritted his teeth; the sensation was one of numbness, as though his hand had fallen asleep and the bristling tingle was climbing up his arm, his shoulder, and across and down his chest. The worst was when it reached his nether regions. There was nothing more disturbing than the sensation of losing feeling in one’s private area. It might have been pleasant for a woman, the vibration, but Gideon wasn’t a fan.

  It was purely his training that kept him from shutting his eyes as the alley vaporized in a swirl of smokes and a newer, grayer backdrop took its place. Gideon braced his feet to keep from swaying as the numbness faded and he found himself standing at the top of a staircase going down. There was another set going up and there was a door behind him. The plaque behind him held a number eight followed by a series of division, ICU, X-Ray and Burn Unit. So he was in a hospital. That wasn’t so unusual. But the figure at the bottom of the stairs ... was. Very.

  Gideon stole a peek at the paper in his hand. Arturo. Shierk demon.

  Rail thin in a way that wasn’t natural with a long, oval face surrounded by straight, black hair, Arturo greeted Gideon with a wide leer. There was something not quite right about the demon’s appearance. Gideon couldn’t put his finger on it, but it may have been that his lipless mouth was too wide across a too narrow face, or the fact that his almond-shaped eyes were black and pupil-less. Or maybe it was the fact that he worse a shapeless brown coat that was buttoned from the very bottom all the way to the collar. Whatever it was, standing before him, Gideon felt the urge to recoil.

  “Caster.” Raspy like a snake hiss, Arturo’s voice carried up the stairway. “I was wondering when you would come for me.”

  A nurse in pink scrubs hurried up the stairs, straight past Arturo without noticing him, but she cast Gideon a curious glance, probably wondering why he was standing on the landing between floors. She never even glanced at the hellhound standing against Gideon’s left leg, which made him suspect that she couldn’t see it. The door banged shut behind her. Gideon wondered how long he had before she called security. Damn meddling humans.

  “You knew the penalties for not returning,” he told Arturo. “You signed the contract.”

  Light shimmered across the dark pools of Arturo’s slanted eyes. “It must have slipped my mind,” the demon said. “Time is so different here and the food is so ... delicious.”

  Arturo was the demon of plague and sickness. He fed on the health of humans, sucking away their wellbeing until they were dead. Haunting hospitals was like living in a banquet hall that never closed.

  “That’s no excuse.” Gideon started down the stairs to where the demon hovered three inches off the ground. “You have two options, come with me and return to hell, or die. Which will it be?”

  “Are those my only options?”

  “Choose,” Gideon snapped, feeling his patience weaning. “I have other demons to hunt down.”

  Arturo splayed long, spidery fingers. “I am afraid I cannot comply. I have enjoyed my time here far too much to return to the other realm.”

  Gideon sighed, his irritation thrumming behind his eyelids. “Man I hate it when you guys say that.”

  Arturo began to shimmer and turn translucent. Gideon cursed and relinquished his hold on the leash.

  “Zitas!” he commanded.

  The hound bounded off the stairs, catapulted through the air and slammed into the demon. They crashed into the wall and tumbled to the ground. Arturo screamed as his forearm was punctured between razor sharp fangs. Toxic green blood sprouted from the gashes, soaking his brown coat and sizzling. The hound dragged him towards Gideon.

  “You should have cooperated,” Gideon said over Arturo’s howls as he flicked back his coat to reveal his blade. “We could have gone back, had a cup of tea, and you could have returned home to your little hell spawns. Now I have to get your stinky blood all over my knife.”

  Arturo raised the hand the hound wasn’t tearing off and green smog billowed from his palm. The foul stench of it impregnated the air and soured the contents of Gideon’s stomach. It rose up to circle his esophagus, choking him in the bitter tang of his own vomit. He fell to his knees. The metal platform cut into the flesh of his palms as he retched. The silver handle of his dagger slipped from his sweat slickened palm. It slid between his fingers and cluttered to the ground next to him. He fumbled for it as his lungs seized, gasping for air that was putrid and polluted.

  It wouldn’t kill him. Nothing, except fire killed an immortal. Fire was the ultimate tool of destruction for most things, except maybe dragons, giants, and Nephilim. There were others, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment.

  The hound relinquished its hold on Arturo’s arm and lunged for the demon’s throat. Unlike Gideon, the hound didn’t breath. It didn’t die, not even by fire. The beast was beyond death.

  Arturo tried to fend off the glinting, blood stained teeth gnashing by his face by using his injured arm while wielding Gideon off with his good one. That didn’t seem to be working too well for him. The wounds were deep and the hound was caught in the bloodlust. It chomped at any bit of the demon it could reach, ripping fabric and flesh alike. Green ooze spattered as its talons caught Arturo in the chest, tearing long, jagged gashes. Arturo shrieked and thrashed, attempting to jam his forearm under the hound’s snapping jaw. After several minutes of fighting and failing, he twisted his torso, possibly trying to throw off the hound.

  Toxic gas abating, Gideon made his move.

  The dagger felt ice cold in his grasp as he lifted it over his head. “Zeata!”

&
nbsp; The hound relinquished its hold immediately and jumped back. Arturo, freed, fought to untangle himself from his coat, but Gideon was on him. He drove the blade deep into the demon’s chest.

  For a full heartbeat, time itself seemed to freeze. Arturo’s liquid black eyes bore into Gideon’s with shock and disbelief. Then, right there on the landing, Arturo collapsed, falling limp across the cold metal.

  Gideon exhaled. Then sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air now that it was clean again. His lungs burned as though he’d inhaled too much smoke. He coughed and wiped the back of his sleeve under his nose. He looked towards the hound, sitting patiently a few feet away, watching him.

  Gideon sighed. “Good boy.”

  The hound’s tail thumped from side to side and its tongue lolled out. Cute, Gideon thought with a slight twitch in his lips. He’d always wanted a dog, but hellhounds made lousy pets, simply because Gideon worked in a bar that catered to demons. Hellhounds ate demons. It was just bad for business.

  Dusting himself off, Gideon rose. He wiped the green blood off his blade onto his pants and stared down at the dead demon.

  “Stipendium peccati mors est ... the reward of sin is death.” He muttered absently. He took another deep breath, knelt once more and pressed the tip of his two fingers to Arturo’s brow. “Sious meto sonto sum.”

  The cleanings chant was one their mother made them say over every kill. Gideon couldn’t fathom why ... they were demons. Praying for a soul that didn’t exist made no sense to him. But he did it and stepped back as water swelled throughout the body and gushed out from every pore and orifice. It washed over his boots and trickled down the stairs. The hellhound lowered its head, sniffed and began lapping at it.

  Gideon grimaced and looked away.

  Demon juice. Yuck.

  He peered at his watch. One demon down, four more to go.

  He looked to the hound. “You know what to do.”

  The hound raised its massive head. Its ears perked with excitement. It moved over the demon’s body and opened its mouth.

  While the beast enjoyed the first course of its meal, Gideon scanned the other pages, mostly so he wouldn’t have to watch, but also because he didn’t want another surprise like the one he’d just gotten. Getting fumigated once was enough.

 

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