Devil's Shadow (Luther Cross Book 3)

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Devil's Shadow (Luther Cross Book 3) Page 18

by Percival Constantine


  “I see you’re putting that hostage negotiation training into practice. A bit surprised—always took most of you CPD types to be brainless meatheads who can barely wipe their own ass.”

  “Not going to ask you a second time.” Wayne kept his weapon trained on me. “Let him go, or we’ll see if a cambion can survive a bullet to the face.”

  “How about we don’t and just say we did?”

  I reached out my arm and hellfire stretched from my hand, wrapping around Wayne’s gun. The hellfire yanked the gun away from him and a burst of telekinesis shoved him against the wall. The gun flew into my hand and I aimed it at Wayne.

  “You really shouldn’t have gotten involved in this, Coop. You or Celeste. All it’s done is sign your death warrant,” I said.

  I summoned up the power, getting ready to unleash a lethal dose of hellfire on Wayne. But before that happened, I was struck from behind. I turned and saw Alistair’s hand glowing with magical power. Wayne’s distraction had enabled him to retaliate and now I’d have to face the brunt of that.

  “In the name of the great King Solomon, I hereby bind you, Luther Cross,” said Alistair. “By the power of all the spirits and saints, by the power of the holy order, I bind you.”

  The hellfire fizzled out in my hands as Alistair worked his binding spell. Somehow, against all possible odds, he was succeeding. I couldn’t fight back against him. Strength left my body and I had trouble even standing up. Drowsiness started to overcome me, and I stumbled before falling to my feet, Wayne’s gun clattering to the ground beside me.

  Alistair stepped closer, looking down at me, his eyes glowing as he worked his spell on me. “I’m sorry, lad. I really wish there was another way. But you’re not leaving me much of a choice here.”

  I looked up at him with anger burning in my eyes. “Go fuck yourself, old man. You think this is over? I’ll break out of this binding spell sooner or later, and once that happens, first thing I’m gonna do is kill you.”

  “Then I suppose we have to get you sorted out before that happens.”

  Alistair reached inside his trench coat and drew a revolver, just like the one I carried. He was the one who had taught me to make the thing in the first place. At first, I thought he was going to shoot me. But instead, he raised the gun up and brought it down across my face.

  And that was the last thing I remembered before the world went black.

  27

  A strong blow to the face woke me up. My eyes opened, and I found myself looking into the face of Hem. The shaved yeti stared right back at me, his beady red eyes narrowed, and he huffed. It sounded like he was annoyed I’d woken up. Celeste’s bodyguard had never cared much for me, and the feeling was mutual.

  I was seated in a wooden chair with chains tying me to it. The chain wrapped around my torso several times, pinning my arms behind the chair, where they were handcuffed. Each of my calves was also lashed with a chain to its respective chair leg. I tested the strength of the chains and they wouldn’t budge much.

  “Don’t expect to go anywhere, lad.”

  I heard Alistair’s voice from the next room. He stepped in with Celeste at his side and she closed the door behind them. I took the moment to survey the room I had woken up in. It looked like a garage—concrete floor, brick walls, dim lighting courtesy of hanging bulbs. A workbench at one end of the room, where Alistair set his bag down. I looked down at the floor and saw a sigil painted there.

  Alistair took off his trench coat and rolled up his sleeves. He pointed at me. “Those are iron chains. You won’t be getting out of them anytime soon.”

  Most of the things that harm demons didn’t also harm cambions, but there were a few holdovers. For instance, I was weak against iron. It would do more damage to a supernatural creature, but could still slow me down.

  “And the sigil?” I asked. “What’s that all about?”

  “That’s in case you do find some way to break free of those chains,” said Alistair. “I’m not taking any chances with you, Luther. Not until we find out just what is going on.”

  “What are you gonna do, old man? Exorcise me? There’s nothing to exorcise.”

  “We still have to try,” said Celeste. “You’re in there somewhere, Luther. You’d never help someone like Lilith, not so carelessly.”

  “I saw it,” said Alistair. “Back in your flat. The spell showed me your face. Purgatory brought something out of you, son. Gave your demon side a persona. Now that persona’s taken over and has sided with Lilith, of all people.”

  “It’s a mutually beneficial relationship…not like I trust the bitch,” I said. “She’s got information I need.”

  “Like what?” asked Celeste. “How are you benefitting from this?”

  I smiled. Something inside me told me not to, but an even greater urge bubbled up—the desire to see how Celeste would act when I told her how far my relationship with Lilith had grown. “I’m benefitting quite a lot. Might even call our arrangement a friendship with benefits, if you catch my drift.”

  I watched the vampire’s face. She tried to steel herself and for the most part, she’d succeeded. But there was one brief moment when the hurt registered on her face. For just an instant, her lower lip quivered, and her eyes dropped. And when I saw that, I knew I’d gotten to Celeste.

  Except she was a tough one. She steeled herself right up after that momentary slip, bringing back her stoic expression. I kept smiling. Nothing like knowing you’ve got psychological power over your enemies.

  Hem, on the other hand, also seemed to take it personally. And unlike his mistress, he wasn’t content with simply changing his facial expression. His response was a blow to my jaw that nearly knocked my head off my neck. I turned my head back in Hem’s direction and spat blood. It splattered on the ground near his feet.

  “Guess I touched a nerve,” I said. “Thought that would’ve made you happy, big guy. Now that I’ve moved on, maybe Celeste will pay some attention to you. But…oh, wait, no. Almost forgot about the fact that you’re a giant, ugly, barely-literate snow-beast.”

  “You want to see a beast?” asked Hem, taking a step closer. “I’ll show you a beast!”

  “No!” barked Celeste, moving between Hem and his target. “He’s trying to goad you. Don’t let him.”

  Hem growled and then turned away.

  Alistair walked over as he lit a cigarette. “Tell me something. The Abraxas Stone—what does Lilith want with it?”

  “It brings out her eyes,” I said.

  “That stone is a dangerous piece of magic, but not just anyone can use it,” said Alistair. “It was designed for Abraxas, to be used by him and him alone. He created that rock so he could bend the Infernal Court to his will.”

  “I know all this—what’s your point?” I asked.

  “A fragment of the stone, like what Lilith has, wouldn’t be enough power to bring the Infernal Court under her control. So, what’s her game? Is she going after the other fragments?”

  “Maybe you should check with whoever’s got those fragments. I’ve got no idea.”

  “And just how does she plan to use the stone?” asked Alistair. “What did she tell you?”

  “She’s going to sing to it. She’s pretty set on ‘Highway to Hell,’ but personally, I think she should go with ‘Sympathy for the Devil.’ Though a case could also be made for ‘Cross Road Blues.’”

  Alistair sighed and shook his head. He knew he wasn’t going to get much out of me. And evidently, so did the big guy.

  “This is a waste of our time,” said Hem, stepping into the circle. “Just give me ten minutes alone with him—he’ll be squealing.”

  “Thanks for the offer, but I don’t think we’ll be going with torture for this round,” said Alistair.

  “He won’t give up the information willingly.”

  “You’re right.” Alistair took a drag on his cigarette while looking at me. “But if you torture him, he’ll just tell you whatever it takes to get the torture to stop.
Regardless of whether it’s the truth or not. What we need here is some incentive.”

  Alistair returned to the bench and opened his bag. I tried to see what he was pulling out, but Hem blocked my view. I looked up at the yeti and gave a smile. No response whatsoever from him.

  “It’s a shame, too,” I said. “My fingernails are gettin’ kinda long. Was hoping you could pull them out for me.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Cross.”

  “Hitting on me in front of your future baby-mama? Not very smooth.” I looked at Celeste. “Don’t be mad, honey. But as good as you are, nothing really compares to sex with a full-blooded demon. The things that girl can do…I don’t think I’ll be walking straight for a week.”

  I could sense the feelings of betrayal coming from Celeste, could feel the charge I got from them. I wanted more. Wanted to see how far I could really push her.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong. The whole vampire thing really revved my engine for a while, but now…I dunno, it’s just gotten a bit stale. I need something different in my life. You know what it’s like, don’t you? What, with being a whore and all.”

  That pushed her over the edge. Technically, Celeste did run an escort service and used to entertain clients herself. But when you got into the specifics, she’d never slept with any of her clients. It was all about biting humans for pleasure. Getting labeled a whore was one of her buttons.

  Celeste came at me into the circle, her fangs descending as claws grew from her fingertips. She swiped across my face and I could feel the sting as her talons dug into my skin. After, I felt something wet and sticky slowly trickling down my face. She’d drawn blood with those things.

  “Go fuck yourself, Luther!” she said.

  “Celeste!”

  She looked over her shoulder at Alistair. “What?”

  “What you said to your yeti friend—that goes for you as well. Don’t let Luther get into your head. He already knows everything about you, so you’re at a disadvantage to begin with.”

  Alistair picked something up from the bench and carried it closer. It was a mason jar, and inside was some kind of brownish liquid. I struggled against the chains even more this time, knowing full well just what spell Alistair intended to use that stuff with.

  “Calm down, son, this is just something to help loosen your tongue a bit,” he said as he entered the circle.

  “Stay the hell away from me, old man, I’m warning you…”

  “Hem, hold his mouth open.”

  The yeti nodded and moved behind my chair. His rough hands grabbed hold of my head and he forced my mouth open. Alistair came closer with the glass and slowly poured the drink down my throat. I gagged, prepared to spit it out, but then Hem gripped my nose and closed my mouth. I didn’t have a choice; it was either swallow it or stop breathing.

  So I swallowed it. The taste was awful, like drinking an ashtray and washing it down with fish guts. I started coughing, hoping the horrid taste meant I could vomit it back up. But I wasn’t that lucky.

  I heard Latin in Alistair’s voice. He held his hands out to the sides and his eyes were closed as he chanted. Once he finished speaking the words, I felt light-headed. In contrast to how it tasted going down, the stuff now gave me a pretty nice feeling, like that perfect buzz you get before you cross into drunk territory.

  “What was that stuff?” asked Hem.

  “Think of it as a truth serum,” said Alistair. “But its effectiveness depends on willpower. Both the strength of the target’s will and the spellcaster’s. If the spellcaster’s will is stronger than the target’s, the target will give up whatever it’s asked. But if it works out the other way, the whole spell could backfire.”

  “And what happens then?” asked Hem.

  “In the most extreme case I’ve seen? The spellcaster ended up in a rubber room.” He looked at Hem, whose expression was one of surprise. “Magic has a price, lad. Sometimes it’s small, sometimes it’s not.”

  Alistair carried the mason jar back to the table. He picked up a chair and dragged it into the circle, setting it down across from me. When he sat, he lit a cigarette and offered it to me. I nodded and opened my mouth so he could place it between my lips. Alistair lit a second cigarette for himself and leaned back in the chair.

  “Okay, Luther, we’re going to play a little game. I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to tell me the answer. Do you understand that?”

  I tried to fight him off. With this spell, a mental connection had been opened between us. I wanted so bad to use that connection against Alistair. But like he had told Hem, that would only work if my will was stronger than his. If there was one thing I knew about Alistair Carraway, it was that he had willpower to rival anyone. There was no way I would stand up to him in this.

  I sighed and lowered my head. “I understand.”

  “And you’ll cooperate?”

  I didn’t say a word, just nodded.

  Detective Wayne Cooper descended the steps of the police station. He went to the parking lot and climbed into his Subaru sedan. Before he could start the car, he heard a voice from behind him.

  “Good evening, Detective Cooper.”

  Wayne jumped and turned around, surprised to see Lilith sitting in his backseat. He drew his gun and pointed it at her. “The hell do you want?”

  Lilith scoffed. “First, I want you to point that gun somewhere else. Then, I want us to have a little chat.”

  “I’ve got nothing to say to you and I like my gun right where it is, thanks.”

  “Fine, suit yourself…”

  Lilith grabbed the gun by the barrel and tore it from Wayne’s grip. She moved so fast, he barely realized what had happened until he found himself staring down the barrel of his own weapon.

  “The gun wouldn’t have hurt me anyway, and you know that,” she said. “So why bother playing games with me when I’m clearly not in the mood?”

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “Luther’s missing,” she said. “And I bet Elvira has something to do with it, because I can’t seem to find any trace of her. A tracker spell just blew up in my face, which means they’re being hidden by someone very powerful. Fortunately for me, you’ve still got a day job to go to. So it was just a matter of waiting for your shift to finish.”

  “Assume I did know,” said Wayne. “Why the hell would I tell you?”

  Lilith smiled. “Because you don’t have a choice, lover.”

  Her yellow eyes glowed and Wayne found himself zoning out for a moment. The next thing he realized, Lilith’s lips were pressed to his and he fell into the kiss. She broke it, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Wayne just blinked and stared at her.

  “Now, how about you be a good little slave and take me to Luther?” asked Lilith.

  Wayne didn’t offer another word. He faced forward, started the car, and began driving. His thoughts were still his own, but whatever Lilith did to him meant he couldn’t control his own actions.

  “The magic used this time is more than Luther’s little Asian witch can muster,” said Lilith. “So, to pass time on the drive, why don’t you tell me everything I need to know about this new player?”

  28

  Wayne pulled his car to a stop in front of an old warehouse. He got out of car first and opened the back door for Lilith. She smiled at him as she climbed out of the vehicle, lightly running a finger along his chin and mouthing a thank you. If he had control over his body, Wayne would have loved nothing more than to knock that smile off her face.

  They approached the front entrance where a sigil was painted in red on the door. As Lilith came closer, the sigil lit up with a light glow. She looked at Wayne and then back to the sigil.

  “Are you going to be a gentleman and open the door for the lady?”

  “You’re sure as shit no lady.” Wayne reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded knife. He walked up to the door and started to scratch at the sigil.

  “It’s so cute when you try to fi
ght against my control,” said Lilith. “Like a dog chasing a car.”

  Wayne closed the knife and put it back in his pocket. The circle surrounding the sigil now had a break in the line and that was all that was necessary to ruin the magic keeping Lilith out. The detective opened the door and held it open for her.

  “Thanks, lover. You’re a peach.” She blew him a kiss as she walked past.

  Wayne grumbled and followed her inside. He’d hoped she’d only keep him around until that point, but it looked like she was going to keep her hold a little longer. Probably in case they ran across any other traps.

  They walked through the small, abandoned building. Sounds of conversation slowly filtered over to their ears, growing louder with each step they took. Lilith came close to a door and pushed her ear to its surface. She listened for a few seconds, and then backed away from the door. Her hand gestured for Wayne to go on in first.

  He tried to fight her off. Especially as he felt his arm moving for the holster beneath his jacket. As hard as Wayne fought, the most he could muster was just some hesitation. Still, his hand fought against him, reaching beneath his jacket and touching the hilt of his Beretta. Wayne’s brows knitted together with the strain of trying to fight against Lilith’s control. He glanced at Lilith at one point to see her eyes burning bright yellow in the darkness of the warehouse.

  Wayne lost the battle. His hand wrapped around the hilt and drew the gun from the holster. With his free hand, Wayne opened the door and stepped inside the room, drawing stares from everyone. He raised the gun.

  “I’m sorry,” was all he could say before he started pulling the trigger.

  Lilith was just a few seconds too late. By the time Wayne burst through the door and opened fire, I’d already finished telling Alistair everything I knew about Lilith’s plan to get a seat on the Infernal Court.

  Alistair ducked for cover when Wayne started firing. Hem moved in front of Celeste, the bullets striking the yeti’s chest but otherwise having no real effect on him. He walked over to Wayne and grabbed the Beretta from his hand before tossing it into the corner of the room.

 

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