by Tom Keller
I couldn’t get close enough to strike with the knife, and his thin lips curled up into the equivalent of a smile as he held the weapon in front of him. It burst into flame and he flung it at me again. I weaved to avoid it. This time, however, one of the spitting embers hit my knife arm. My Fae armor held, but a spark hit my hand and burned. Hellfire! Damn! That's going to leave a scar, I thought, scraping the burning ember away.
He began swinging the chain in an arc in front of him, like a punk in some bad biker movie. As he moved forward, sparks and bits of dark flame went flying in all directions. I backed away as small fires began to erupt around me; the flames creeping up what was left of the studs and walls. As he moved again, I heard a sharp yelp. Dropping to one knee, I spun the dagger around in my hand and tossed it into the air above him, just as Jazzy leapt over his head. Shifting as she jumped, she grabbed the knife out of the air, and plunged it into the Demon's skull before landing beside him in full human form.
"Not so tough now, are you, you little shit?" she said, then reached down and grabbed the hilt, twisting the knife. The Demon began to shake violently. She stepped back as his skin began to burn. He exploded in a burst of smoke and embers, then she picked the knife up from the pile of ashes that remained.
"Wondered when you were going to show up."
"Little bastard was sneaky," she said, stepping away from the wall, which had ignited into flames, and handed me the blade.
The fire was getting hotter. While my Fae skin could survive the heat long enough to make it back to the alley, I knew that Jazzy didn't have that luxury.
"We've gotta get out of here," I said, wrapping an arm around her. "This dump is about to go up. I'll shield you as best I can."
"Need a hand?" Jesse asked, as a tunnel appeared, moving the flames out of the way.
"Nice timing," I replied, grabbing Jazzy and leading her outside.
"Just part of the service,"" Jesse said, collapsing the field behind us. "I felt the Demon die. Did you learn anything?"
"Not from him," I replied, hearing sirens in the distance. "Sounds like FD's on its way. Let's get back to our suspect and see what he can tell us."
"You got it," Jesse agreed, then turned to Jazzy. "Mind staying in wolf form for a few? He might need prodding and without knowing more, using magic to make him talk might be counterproductive. At least until we figure out about who he's working with."
The Wizard had used a sleeping spell on the burglar when we caught him. Dispatching the Demon had been the priority, so I'd cuffed his hands and shackled his feet as Jazzy hot-footed after the Demon. I left the magic to Jesse, and hadn’t had time to see what he was doing. With the Demon gone, maybe we'd get a few answers.
****
"What exactly did you do to him?" I asked when we made it back to the crime scene. It was clearly more than a sleeping spell. The perp was floating a few inches off the floor, wrapped in a cocoon of magic.
"Stasis spell," Jesse answered. "He's basically frozen in time. When we wake him, he might be a little confused. Be careful. I'm still getting a hint of dark magic emanating from him."
"Okay. Wake him up and let's see what we get," I said, pulling a battered wallet out of his pocket. Looking at his I.D, I knelt down next to the perp as Jazzy moved into position and Jesse lifted the spell. He dropped the few inches onto the floor and woke up.
"Get that thing away from me!" he screamed as his eyes met Jazzy. "What the…" He started squirming. After a minute, realizing he couldn’t break his bonds, he stopped fighting, at least physically. "Let me go. You got nothing on me!"
"I don't think so, David," I said, holding his driver's license out where he could see it. "Last I checked, burglary's still a crime. But that's the least of your problems. Tell us where you got him and we might go easy on you."
"I don’t know what you're talking about," he replied. "I know my rights! I don’t have to say shit. Fuck you! I want my lawyer."
"Your rights?" I said, chuckling. Interrogation wasn't my forte, but I had a few cards up my sleeve to play before we turned him over for a mind probe. "Listen shithead. If you're gonna play in our world, you need to study your history and get with the program. Let me make this simple. Ever hear of the New York accords of 1861? No? That's a shame. Because the second you summoned a Demon you lost all your rights. As far as you're concerned, we're your judge, jury, and if need be, executioners." I looked over at Jazzy, who gave a low guttural growl. "Now, tell me about the Demon, or do I need to let my partner here convince you?"
"Damnit!" David said, squirming against the cuffs. "She said this wouldn’t happen."
"Who said this wouldn’t happen?" I asked.
"She said I wouldn’t get caught," he replied. "This is bullshit, man! We had a deal! I got her the Grimoire… augh!" His face contorted and turned blue as he began to choke. Suddenly, his cuffs exploded and he wrapped his hands around his neck.
"Get back!" Jesse warned.
I got to my feet as the burglar opened his mouth and the muscles in his face tensed. I could hear popping noises as his body shook. His skin began to stretch as another face appeared beneath his own. It was a Demon, and it was forcing its way out of what was once our burglar.
Jesse jumped in front of me and began weaving a spell. As he muttered the words, a golden glow began to encompass the now possessed body. The glow intensified, then suddenly burst apart, propelling Jesse backwards into the wall. Although still within the burglar's body, the Demon's lips moved.
"Thrice cursed I shall call you," the Demon said in a raspy voice. "When I feast on your soul. Dare you to think you are the equal of Syrach, Duke of Hell?" There was a tearing sound and the Demon began to crawl out of what was left of the burglar's face.
"That'll be the day," I yelled. I grabbed the Egyptian dagger from my belt and hurled it at the Demon, striking him in the chest.
Jazzy, who'd also been thrown back by the collapse of the spell, shifted and somersaulted toward him, kicking the knife with her heel and burying it in the place the Demon's heart would be, if it had one. A look of disbelief came over the creature before it burst into flames, collapsing in on itself in another shower of sparks and swirling smoke.
"Nice move," I commented, before stepping over to Jesse to see how he was doing. I helped him to his feet.
"Teamwork," Jazzy said, giving me a high five as she stepped out of the smoke. She picked up the knife and looked down at her red and black stained body. "I need a shower." There was blood and guts everywhere, and the office was trashed.
"Lo siento," Jesse said, brushing himself off. "I wasn't expecting a Duke of Hell. I won’t make that mistake again."
"Why didn’t the shackles hold?" I asked, picking up a twisted shard of metal.
"They're standard issue," Jesse replied. "I doubt anyone expected Demons of that rank when they gave them to us."
"It's a good thing the knife worked," Jazzy said, handing it back to me.
"That's an ancient blade," Jesse replied. "Hammered from sky iron for the sole purpose of killing Demons."
"Point made," I said, walking over to the wall safe and pulling out my cellphone. "I'll try and get us some better tools. In the interim, I'll call in a clean-up team. Based on his last words, I doubt there's anything in the safe worth following up on."
Jesse threw Jazzy a pair of coveralls. I gave her his license and asked the two of them to check out the perp's address, and afterward meet me back at the hotel where we were staying. Then I called the office.
"Operations."
"Jim. It's Hoskins. I need a clean-up team and some follow-up done," I said, then gave him an overview of the situation.
Jim Slater was our unit's control agent at the EAB. Although we didn't go into the office much, we still had to file reports and keep them up to date with what we were doing. He also passed on our marching orders, if any came in.
"Sorry about the restraints," Jim said when I was finished. "Your team wasn't the only 55 unit created and we're
still waiting on new Demon slaying kits from upstairs. Let me work on that, but I've got to be honest, it might take a while. What else do you need me to look in to?"
Even in the magic world you had to deal with bureaucracy! I told him what I needed, then waited for the clean-up team before heading back to join the others.
****
The sun was just coming over the horizon when I pulled into the parking lot of the downtown hotel where we were staying. I parked the rental close to our room. I'd had to turn in my SUV. 55 units didn't drive official vehicles. Jazzy was getting out of the shower when I came in, so I plopped down on the couch next to Jesse.
"Shower's open," Jazzy said, toweling her hair.
"Go ahead," I told him.
He nodded and got up as Jazzy sat down beside me, the white towel accenting her dark skin.
"Anything at the perp's residence?" I asked.
"It was clean," she replied. "There was about $15K under the mattress but we left it there. Jesse tried a few spells but nothing showed up that could tell us anything. Even the money was clean. No evidence of any Grimoires, or anything else that relates to the magic world. Whoever this guy was working for, there wasn't any trace of them at the apartment."
"Well, that's a dead end then."
"Don’t look so upset," she said, handing me a Styrofoam cup of coffee from the table. "Something will come up. It always does. At least this place isn’t a dump, and the coffee's not half bad, either."
No, it wasn't a dump. It was one of a chain of hotels that catered to business travelers, not one of the old places on Fremont itself. We could have afforded better, but it's hard to traipse in and out of a major hotel smelling like smoke with bloody clothes or leading a half-dressed Werewolf, even in human form, without getting noticed.
"It's not the accommodations," I finally said, after I finished my coffee. "It's not even this case. It's the use of rentals and lack of proper equipment. Not that I'm blaming Slater, he can only do so much. His hands are tied."
You'd think that with almost unlimited magic at your disposal anything was possible; but I was quickly learning that even then, you were still dealing with government bureaucracy. I hadn’t really seen it that way before. But when I thought about it, things weren't that different in the Fae world. I'd thought about pulling some weapons from my own armory back in Fae, but that could be seen as contrary to my role as the Fae protector. I could arm myself, or any of my allies in Fae, for that matter, but arming someone for battles solely in this world would be an issue. If the shit hit the fan and anything I'd borrowed had been needed… well, I just couldn’t take that risk; nor was I willing to pass it on by asking my sister for permission.
I could just as easily buy weapons with the Fae money I had access to. But once again, it came down to what it was meant for. Sure, I could buy myself a suit of armor and a variety of weapons for my own use, but outfitting my two partners would be a violation of my fiduciary trust. Living in two worlds with all these rules was really starting to suck.
"We could use a few more of those knives," she said, nodding her head. "Jesse was saying we'd have been up shit creek if we'd faced that Demon lord with regular weapons."
"A howitzer would have worked," Jesse said, pulling on a t-shirt as he came out of the bedroom. "But even that might have taken a few rounds before we knew for sure he was gone. There's only three of us, and most Demons you run into aren't that high up the chain. Even if we're exempt from the normal weapons rules; the problem is finding something that will dispatch a Demon of that magnitude fast enough so that none of us get killed in the process. Unfortunately, ancient blades forged to kill Demons just aren’t that easy to come by. We were just lucky that he hadn’t fully materialized into this world."
"Maybe we need another Wizard," Jazzy quipped. She got up from the couch and tweaked his cheek. "Don’t I recall you saying something to the tune that you were one of the best?"
"Very funny, mi hija," Jesse replied. "But even my father wouldn’t take on one of Satan's lieutenants on his own. There was no way to predict that we'd run into someone like that on this op."
"Well, in that case, you're forgiven," she replied, then gave him two light pats on the cheek before going into the bedroom and shutting the door.
"You know she does that just to screw with you," I said, chuckling. "… and because you think she's hot."
"She is hot," he retorted. "And you don’t have to say it. I know I'm not her type… and neither are you."
"Very true," I said with a laugh. "Now, back to what you said a minute ago. What do you mean we're exempt from the EAB weapons rules?"
"Well, it isn’t written exactly like that," he admitted, reclaiming his seat next to me. "But it does say that 55 units are authorized to improvise when necessary. Remember, Jefe; it wasn't like it is these days with cell phones and radios. Even with magic, they didn't have instantaneous communication to request back-up or instructions in the old days. Instead, they had a lot of leeway. The language is still out there, if you dig deep enough. Why, what are you thinking?"
"Let me mull it over for a bit," I said, getting up from the couch. "I'm going to take shower and then crash for a while. We'll look at our options after we get some sleep.
Chapter 4
"Hoskins," I answered, groggily.
"Jay, it's Jim," the voice on the other end of the line said. "I've got that data you asked for.
"Give me a second," I muttered. Jazzy was sprawled out on the bed next to me, so I got up and went into the living room. Jesse was asleep on the couch. I grabbed another cup of the coffee she had left on the bar and placed it in the microwave to heat it up.
"Go ahead."
"Okay. I pulled the reports from the PD and we can guess that your suspect hit at least 4 offices that we can account for; all in the last week, all human owned. There's nothing notable in the property descriptions, mostly just jewelry and cash, according to the reports.
"Not a lot of help there," I replied, grabbing the steaming cup and taking a seat at the small table.
"Ah, but here's where it gets interesting," he said, continuing. "You know the Squires building on Seventh Avenue?"
"Sure," I replied, "Between Ogden and Stewart. What about it?" It was an old Vegas landmark, pretty rundown until recently. Built by the children of an original settler, it had been part of the downtown revitalization project and was now a sought-after business office location.
"There was an incident there a week ago. There's no report, but police responded to the building at the request of security. Apparently, the back doors were unlocked when they went in to open the place up. Security wrote it off, but they do have one interesting tenant. A Gnome by the name of Werner Paracel. Runs an antique business. Rare books and the like. Based on the past acquisitions we're aware of, I'd say he's as good a fit as any for someone that would try to move something like that."
"A Gnome, huh? Anyone interview him?"
"Not officially," Jim replied. "But there's a note that the cops talked to several of the tenants, but nobody reported anything missing.
"That is interesting," I agreed.
"There is a problem though," Jim said, a note of hesitation in his voice.
"What's that?"
"Gnomes aren't on your authorized investigative list, and he's pretty high up in the Fae hierarchy, at least as far as Gnomes go. Without a better nexus to your case, if you want to interview him officially, you'll need to get authorization.
He was right. Our mandate was to fight the forces of darkness. Demons that came to this plane, and the beings associated with them. Gnomes were treasure hunters, and as an antiques dealer, this one would be well connected. Of course, I hadn’t actually been told I couldn’t talk to high ranking Fae, but it had been implied, and without a solid link to my case, that could be a problem.
"Did he give a statement to the cops?" I asked.
"No," he replied. "It was a regular patrol unit that responded, not one of the special un
its we liaison with. I doubt anyone other than me made the connection."
"Great," I said. "No official contact. Got it. There's no reason to put that information into any of our reports yet then, is there?"
"Put what in?" he asked, feigning surprise. "Not sure what you're talking about there, my friend. Gotta run now. Other teams to assist. Call me when you need me… and be careful." Jim was a pro, and knew the game as well as I did.
"You bet," I replied, then I hung up and got dressed. After rousting the others out of bed, I went out for coffee.
"What’s the plan?" Jazzy asked as I set the coffee down on the table.
"I need you two to do some research," I said, passing on the information Slater had given me. "We need to figure who our dead burglar was working for and what he stole. Jesse, what are we looking at here? What kind of Grimoire could they have been searching for?"
"That's the difficult part," Jesse said. "It's like asking about a cookbook. It could have been anything. A Grimoire's just a book of spells. There are thousands in existence. Written in everything from pen and ink to even blood. From ancient scrolls to clay tablets, they can be written on anything, including a plain old notebook. Hell, most of the famous ones are on the internet if they're not already locked up in the Vatican's vaults. We need more to go on before I can even begin to answer that question."
"Could one of theirs have been stolen?" Jazzy asked.
"No." Jesse replied. "No way. They've got them locked up tighter than a Witch's tit in a brass bra."
"That's not a lot of help," I said. "Can you narrow it down at all?"
"Yeah. Maybe," he replied, cynically, then shook his head. "Hell, I don’t know. If I was guessing, I'd say she's human. Being female, maybe a Witch or a dark Mage. Worst case a Sorceress or Necromancer. Which, to be honest, is pretty unlikely. Most of them can be accounted for. I'm sorry, doesn’t narrow it down much."