Raven's Rise (World on Fire Book 3)

by Lincoln Cole

No response. Dominick let out a sigh before sliding his gun away. He stepped forward and tapped Mitchell on the shoulder.

  “Earth to Mitchell. Come on, man.”

  Mitchell let out a little half-groan, half-scream, and then stumbled to the side away from where Dominick had touched him. His foot caught on a rolled up rug, and he tripped. Hastily, he tried to pull the cords out of his ears and managed to wrap his arms up in them instead.

  To save himself, he clutched the edge of his tray of little green plants, but it wasn’t braced and couldn’t support his weight. Dominick watched as Mitchell fell back in seemingly slow-motion, eyes wide, as the tray slid across the table toward him. He flailed his arms wildly, and then pulled it off, sending his little plants and dirt flying everywhere around and on top of him.

  Dominick bit back a chuckle and folded his arms. He looked down at Mitchell, frowning. “Seriously?”

  Mitchell took out his headphones and brushed dirt from his face. “Jesus Christ, you scared the crap out of me.”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “Do I look dead?”

  “I mean in general. The shop’s empty, and the lights are off. I figured someone came here to kill you.”

  “I keep the lights off to conserve energy. Do you know how much electric costs out here? Who would want to kill me?”

  “I’m sure we could find someone if we looked hard enough.”

  Dominick held out his hand to help Mitchell stand. The man grabbed it, and Dominick jerked him to his feet. He stumbled, off-balance, and hit his hip hard against the table. The opposite of graceful, which proved painful to watch.

  “I haven’t done anything particularly stupid in a while. Why would they want to kill me now?”

  “The place looks like crap, too. When I came inside, you weren’t out front, so I didn’t know what might have happened. The place looks like it’s been tossed.”

  “Oh, that? Just doing some spring cleaning.”

  “It isn’t even spring.”

  Mitchell shrugged. “Winter cleaning, then.”

  “How do you consider that cleaning?”

  “I just started,” Mitchell said, and then straightened his spine in a defensive posture. “And I needed a break.”

  “To water your crop?”

  Mitchell frowned and looked down at the ground around him. He wore a look of immeasurable sadness while he surveyed the plants. “I’ll have to re-pot all of them, and I’m sure some of them will die because of this.”

  “Trust me, that’s the least of your concerns.”

  “Are you kidding me? These are a special strain. Cost me a fortune. I should bill the Council for this.”

  Dominick stayed silent for a moment. “Good luck with that.”

  Mitchell’s entire demeanor changed. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Slowly, Dominick shook his head. “Mitchell … you need to answer your damn phone. Frieda tried calling you several times, and you didn’t pick up.”

  “The battery died yesterday, I think. Might have happened the day before. I plugged it in to charge but forgot about it and left it at home. Why? What’s so important that you need to talk to me?”

  “The Council has gone.”

  Mitchell stood perfectly still for a second, mouth hanging open, and then he burst out laughing.

  “Oh, you almost got me. Very convincing, Dominick.”

  Dominick didn’t respond except to stare at him.

  Slowly, the smile on Mitchell’s face faded. “Holy crap. You’re serious.”

  “We got attacked. Only a handful of people survived. The rest all died.”

  “Died? Like dead-dead?”

  “All of them.”

  Mitchell looked like a gust of wind could have blown him over at that moment.

  “Holy mother of God. Is Frieda all right?”

  “She got injured but will be fine. Jun Lee survived as well.”

  “Abigail?”

  Dominick didn’t respond, but Mitchell could read the look on his face.

  Mitchell’s face fell. “Damn it. I think I need to sit down.”

  He walked across the hall to the back room of the shop, and Dominick followed. Mitchell sat on an ugly red giant couch, and Dominick lowered himself into the beanbag chair opposite. The place reeked of recently smoked marijuana.

  A few minutes passed while they just stared at each other. Dominick waited, letting the information sink in for Mitchell.

  “What happened?” he asked, finally.

  “We got attacked. Aram Malhotra betrayed us, and the entire Council got murdered.”

  “Damn. I knew things had gone bad but never expected anything like this.”

  “No one did,” Dominick said. “It gets worse.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The demon who attacked us had control of Nida’s body and plans something else … some sort of summoning ritual.”

  “To bring back the creature the Council locked away?”

  “You know about that?”

  Mitchell nodded. “I found out everything I could about the Council when they first approached me. I like to know who I’m about to get in bed with, so to speak, but that was a long time ago. Most of the rumors came out of the Catholic Church, and apparently, the original seven members of the Council locked away some horrible creature a long time ago, and their reward came in the guise of getting formed into the Council on behalf of the Church and receiving support and funding.”

  “But they didn’t want to serve the Church directly,” Dominick said. His uncle had told him much the same story when he first joined the Order of Hunters, minus the part about locking away an evil creature. “So, instead, they looked for funding from other sources and stayed mostly autonomous. That’s why we’re multi-religious. Do you know what they locked up? A demon?”

  “From what I heard, something worse. An integration of sorts.”

  “Integration?”

  “When demon and host bond completely, we call it integration. It’s incredibly rare, and barely ever actually works. The host has to invite the demon in, and they become one and the same. And even then, it proves rare to find a truly powerful demon willing to integrate with a host because the host gains some sort of symbiotic benefit from the demon.”

  “So, not possession?”

  “With possession, the demon wears the human like a set of clothing. They have control, but it comes with a built-in lag time and safety network whereby the body slowly dies and falls apart. They are inside the host, like a parasite, but gradually, the host dies as the demon poisons and corrupts it. With integration, they are the host, and the host becomes them. It’s way worse.”

  “So, the Council stopped one of these a long time ago, and their bloodline locked it away?”

  “In the deepest pits of hell.” Mitchell nodded. “So the story goes. Not sure how much I believe of it. I’ve seen possession, and I’ve heard about forms of integration, but whatever this was, it sounds way worse.”

  “Well, I guess at least some of it holds truth. The demon is after the blood of the descendants from the original Council. It captured Frieda and took vials of her blood. We aren’t sure, but we think it might have gotten another few of the bloodlines it needs before it attacked the Council, so we’re running out of time to stop Nida.”

  Mitchell fell silent while he thought through the consequences. “Even if the demon got all of the blood it needed, it would still need to perform an actual ritual to make this a reality. Something like that isn’t simple to do.”

  “Frieda said there’s a stolen book that the demon could use for that purpose when it invaded the Council. Something with the history of the Council and all of the surnames she would need to find living descendants. We’re up against the clock and out of options. We need to find some way to stop the demon from gathering up all of the blood and completing the ritual before it’s too late.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “Nothing,” Do
minick said. “Frieda just wanted me to check on you to make sure you still lived. You didn’t answer your phone, and I’d already come to the neighborhood, so it made just a short jaunt out of my way.”

  “Ah, so I wasn’t a top priority?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “How reassuring.”

  “I’m on my way to Pennsylvania. One of the descendants Frieda knows lives there.”

  “Who?” Dominick asked, then his eyes widened, and he groaned. “You can’t mean Jill Reinfer.”

  “The one and only. She’s on the list of people we need to keep track of.”

  “That woman is a witch.”

  “I’m not a fan, either. But, if keeping her safe stops Nida from whatever she plans to do, then I’m fine with it.”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Frieda thinks she might be one of the targets, so I need to get there and make sure she’s still alive.”

  “So, you’re just going to leave me here? What am I supposed to do if this crazed demon woman comes after me?”

  “You’re welcome to travel with me if you think that’s better?”

  “To Pennsylvania? No, thanks. I’ll take my chances.”

  Dominick laughed. “Suit yourself. But look, if anything suspicious happens at all, you let me know, all right?”

  “All right.”

  “And turn on your damn phone. I don’t want to have to make another trip out here to see if you’re still alive.”

  “Fine.”

  Dominick stood and headed back out through the shop. He chuckled to himself as he passed the spilled tray of little marijuana plants.

  “And clean this damn place up,” he shouted back at the room. “It looks like a tornado came through here.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mitchell shouted back.

  Dominick headed back outside, grabbing a candle on the way. Marvin loved candles, and it might serve as a peace offering when all of this ended. He glanced at the label: Eucalyptus and mint; Marvin’s favorite.

  It remained cloudy and overcast outside, but at least it had stopped raining. The wind made it feel a lot colder than the temperature. Dominick hadn’t been to Ohio many times in the past few months, but he didn’t much like it in winter. Too many people packed closely together, and too variable weather. He would take California over Ohio any day.

  Of course, Pennsylvania didn’t rank much better. He had gone to Portsmouth only once and hated the way the entire city smelled. Jill Reinfer lived in that city, which made it his next stop.

  Chapter 6

  Jill Reinfer had worked as a member of the Council about ten years ago, though she had only lasted a few months. Just until her father died, and she had inherited his vast fortune. George Reinfer had been a good man. His daughter, not so much.

  She had left around the time Dominick’s uncle first initiated him into the Order of Hunters, and so he’d never known her personally. He’d heard a lot about her and the fact that she considered herself above and better than others, especially the Hunters. Though not that old, only in her mid-fifties, she didn’t want to stay a part of the underground world any longer.

  The thing was, even though he disliked her, Dominick couldn’t blame her for wanting out. The life of the Council members, like the Hunters, got spent in the shadows, and one had to look over one’s shoulder constantly. Continually lying and playing things close to the chest.

  Dominick envied her a little for wanting to escape and managing to. Sometimes, he wished he could just drop everything, return to Marvin, and start their life anew.

  However, his position as a Hunter lasted for life.

  Jill had had importance on the Council, much like Frieda. They were descendants of the original Council members from hundreds of years ago. Until a few days ago, that hadn’t meant much to Dominick, but now, it had taken on a whole new meaning.

  He arrived at her estate late in the day. The gate out front looked ornate and tall, and a buzzer and screen sat out front. Dominick drove up to it, rolled down his window, and clicked the button. A moment later, the screen flashed to life.

  “Hello,” he said.

  On the screen, a middle-aged and bored-looking man appeared.

  “Name and business?”

  “Dominick Cupertino. Here to speak with Jill Reinfer about an important matter.”

  The man yawned. “I apologize, but she isn’t receiving guests right now. You’ll need to schedule an appointment.”

  “Could you, please, just tell her Dominick is here on Council business? It’s urgent that I speak with her.”

  The man remained silent for a minute, just staring at Dominick through the camera. Finally, the screen went dark.

  He sat there in his car, unsure what to expect from the conversation. Would the man speak with Jill, or had he just dismissed Dominick summarily?

  Just when he considered how he might break onto the premises, a clanking noise sounded. The gate swung open, clearing the path for him to drive up to the manor. With a sigh of relief, Dominick put the car back into gear and continued up the driveway.

  Jill lived on a mammoth estate, large enough to house a few-dozen families and still have rooms to spare. Her father had grown rich in the Fabricated Metal Industry and diversified his assets when that industry stagnated. The brilliant businessman grew vast fortunes out of nothing.

  He also became a firm believer in the work the Council did. Proud of his family line and the legacy of the Reinfer family, for years, he invested a substantial amount of money into the Council of Chaldea. At least while he lived, though he never served on the Council himself since he remained too busy with his business. It offered a source of pride for him, doing his part by helping pay the Council’s bills.

  Jill, on the other hand, hated the Council and her heritage. Born to wealth and privilege, as such, she felt that the Council and Order of Hunters were an outdated relic, a staple from another time, and that they abused their power. She only served on the Council to appease her father, and she quit and left the moment he passed on.

  Maybe she had it right that they had become an outdated relic. Her opinion certainly got validated when Arthur fell from grace and killed innocents, but Arthur made the exception rather than the rule. He’d held too much responsibility on his shoulders, and at a certain point, he had just snapped.

  By Dominick’s estimation, Jill had never seen the world for what it was. She knew nothing about what the Hunters actually dealt with, and judged them without understanding what they came up against and just how dangerous their world was.

  He drove his car around an enormous stone fountain and up to the front door of the property. Two men stood there, wearing expensive suits and sunglasses. Both looked armed and watched Dominick carefully.

  He climbed out of the rental, and one of the men beckoned for him to follow. Silently, the guards turned and walked into the building. Inside, a double staircase wrapped around to the second floor, and an antechamber led off to the right, left, and straight ahead deeper into the manor. This antechamber stood three stories high with a vaulted ceiling. Gorgeous rugs ran from the front entrance and up the stairs.

  The décor, maroon and smooth, contained rich tapestries that decorated the walls. The guards led him up to the second floor, down a hall, and to a sitting room where Jill sat waiting. An overweight and soft woman, she wore an expensive gown that did little to hide her many folds.

  Jennifer had a scowl on her face and looked mildly constipated while she sized up Dominick. He hadn’t managed to shower in the last couple of days, and looked rough from the road. He didn’t like the feeling that she judged him because, in her estimation, he was rabble.

  The two guards flanked him when he walked into the room, hands folded near their waists. Well-trained, they looked quite capable as bodyguards.

  “Frieda sent you,” Jill said, finally.

  “She did.” Dominick nodded. “She wanted me to check up on you and make sure you were safe.”

  Jill la
ughed. An ugly laugh. “Frieda? Are we talking about the same woman? Frieda could care less about my well-being.”

  “Things have changed.”

  “Yes, they have. I heard about what happened in Switzerland. A shame.”

  Dominick bit back of a flash of anger. He could hardly believe she would so casually dismiss what had happened. So many of his friends had gotten murdered in the attack.

  But, even though callous, she wasn’t at fault for what had happened. Dominick had a job to do, even if one he didn’t particularly like.

  “Frieda sent me because she thinks you might be at risk.”

  “So, this isn’t over?”

  “No.”

  Jill let out a disgusted sigh. “I thought I’d freed myself from that life. Why? Was my name on one of their stupid lists?”

  “It …” Dominick hesitated. He glanced back and forth between the two men flanking him.

  Annoyed, Jill waved her hand, dismissing the two guards. Wordlessly, they slid out of the room and closed the door behind them. Dominick waited until they had gone and then turned back to Jill.

  “It’s your lineage,” he said. “Your bloodline. The demon is trying to resurrect an ancient evil, and it needs you to complete it.”

  “Me?”

  “It’s only a possibility. The demon might go after one of your relatives instead if she knows about them. However, Frieda thinks it might come for you out of spite since you used to serve on the Council.”

  “What does it want with me?”

  “Your blood.”

  Jill frowned. “That’s all? Maybe it should just call ahead. I can have my doctor draw a few vials and hand them over.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. We have no love lost between me and your silly Council, and if a few pints of blood will get rid of this mess, then I will gladly pencil in the appointment.”

  “We can’t allow you to do that.”

  Jill narrowed her eyes. “And you think you could stop me?”

  Dominick stayed silent for a moment. He’d heard stories but never imagined just how cold and heartless Jill was.

  “You do understand that if the demon is successful, a lot of people will die.”