Blood Rain (Shadow Detective Book 3)

by William Massa

  You don’t have a choice buddy, he told himself. He wanted, needed to save Detective Jane Archer so he could save Raven.

  Mind made up, he shook hands with the priest, sealing their deal. Father Ignatius placed the infernal book in his leather satchel and zipped it up. The bag was protected by powerful white magic. Even if the satchel should somehow fall into the wrong hands, only a member of the White Crescent would be able to open it. Skulick trusted them to keep the book safe, but he still trusted himself more.

  Business out of the way, Ignatius spent another hour reminiscing about their past adventures before he left to catch his flight. Hell’s agents didn’t rest and their work never stopped. Another mission awaited Ignatius on the West Coast, where the daughter of a movie producer was being tormented by demonic forces.

  With Ignatius gone, Skulick was gripped with renewed regret. Had he done the right thing by giving up the Daemonium? As the light from the angel blood washed over him, he prayed he hadn’t made a terrible mistake.

  8

  The abandoned auto wrecking yard loomed before me, a foreboding eyesore in a neighborhood full of them. A ten-foot-tall chain link fence topped with barbed wire enclosed the cemetery of rusting steel and gutted machinery. Faded signs warned trespassers of potential prosecution.

  I doubted it would stop anyone intent on entering the junk yard, especially considering the non-existent police presence in this forsaken part of the city. Like the nearby factory, the place had been abandoned during the latest recession, and most locals avoided the spooky scrapyard at all costs. Folks had a funny way of disappearing around the place.

  The junkyard is haunted, man, one of the bums I'd questioned had said as I offered him a smoke. The homeless man wasn't that far off the mark if vampires had indeed turned the wasteland of junked cars into their personal hunting ground.

  Sunlight beat down on me as I approached the fence with a sense of growing trepidation. It was around one o'clock, which gave me about another five hours before nightfall. Even though Hellseeker was as effective against vamps as stakes, I had no idea how many of the monsters I might be up against. Venturing into a potential nest of bloodsuckers was never a smart move, but at least I had daylight on my side. At night, this would have been suicide mission.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. Skulick had been trying to reach me for the last hour, but I refused to answer my cell. I knew he would do his best to talk me out my latest craziness. Vampires made him more than nervous, understandably enough, and he would always err on the side of caution when it came to these monsters. But I was a man possessed, desperate for closure. I needed to confront my own demons before my resolve wavered.

  By turning Archer into a vampire, I had doomed her to an unholy purgatory between life and death. It was up to me to set her free.

  I reached the fence and took a deep breath. The stench of gasoline clotted the thick air and raked my lungs.

  I extricated a wire cutter from my trench coat and went to work on the chain link gate. Metal quickly gave way, and I carved a hole into the fence big enough for me to fit through.

  I slipped through the jagged opening and entered a wasteland of broken glass, mangled engine parts, and cars piled up helter-skelter. Hydraulic compactors sat abandoned like exotic technology left behind by a race of ancient alien invaders.

  As I moved deeper in to the wrecking yard, my scar began to heat up. No doubt about it, black magic had found a home among the ruins of these savaged vehicles.

  Following my instincts, I approached a row of parked cars that formed a bulwark of rusting steel. Studying the wall of faded metal, I couldn't shake the feeling that the trunks had become makeshift steel coffins for these urban vamps.

  My scar itching something fierce now, I stepped up to the first vehicle, a '99 Ford Mustang that had seen better days, its red paint job having taken a serious beating from the elements.

  I circled the Mustang and peered inside the shadow-cloaked vehicle. The scent of moldy leather assaulted my nostrils as I pried open the creaking car door and I found the latch that would open the trunk. Hellseeker ready in one hand, I steeled myself for what lay ahead.

  Here goes nothing, I thought.

  I popped the trunk, and within seconds a bestial roar reverberated across the wrecking yard. Guess my instincts had been right, but there was no time to celebrate.

  A human shape burst from the open trunk, smoke erupting from the hoodie-sporting figure. He whirled toward me, eyes wild, fangs visible in the glare of sunlight.

  Having identified the cause of its terrible agony, the vampire attacked. I squeezed the trigger and drilled two blessed bullets into the monster.

  The projectiles stopped the vampire dead cold in its tracks. It stumbled backward under the onslaught before dissolving into a swirling cloud of flaming ash.

  For a beat I just stood there, rooted in place, face masked in perspiration, my heart hammering a mile a minute, almost expecting more of the car trunks to pop open and reveal an army of the first vampire's undead brethren. But no such thing happened.

  I was surrounded by monsters, but they were at rest now, unaware of the foolish mortal who planned to interrupt their vampiric slumber.

  Still considering my next move, an animalistic growl cut through the junkyard. The sound made the hairs on my back stand up.

  Adrenaline pumping, I turned around.

  Two hundred pounds of salivating Rottweiler glared back at me. The four-legged guardian flashed its jagged teeth and was rapidly joined by three other dogs who looked like they were all too eager to tear me apart.

  I should have guessed the vampires would have guardians of some kind. I hated shooting an animal, even one who was planning on taking big, bloody chunks out of me. The dogs were doing what they had been taught to do—protect their masters.

  Four against one—the odds were not in my favor. That said, I wouldn't let them rip me in pieces without a fight. Even if I managed to kill one or two of the dogs, their sheer numbers would overwhelm me. Once the blood started to flow, these beasts would be as unstoppable as the horde of vampires they protected. Retreat was in order.

  I scanned my surroundings as I inched away from the growling canines. There was no obvious path to escape. Any moment now, the animals would explode into ferocious motion. I had to get away from them. Now!

  Giving myself an internal push, I spun around while firing a few rounds at the ground, hoping it would scare the dogs away.

  They backed off slightly as clouds of dust erupted at their feet but their growls didn't abate, their eyes staying fixed on me. They must've been exposed to gunfire during their training. Great!

  An instant later, the dogs loped toward me, and I ran for my life.

  Riding a wave of adrenaline, I leapt onto the trunk of one of the cars, desperate to attain the high ground. Jaws snapped at me and caught the fabric of my pants.

  I lost my balance and stumbled backward, finding myself face to face with one of the slavering beasts. My fist shot out and connected with the dog's snout. The salivating beast let out a pitiful whelp.

  Sorry, guy, but you left me no choice.

  Before another one of the Rottweilers could tear into me, I climbed onto the car's roof. Weathered metal creaked and groaned under my feet.

  The massive Rottweilers circled the vehicle, jaws snapping at the air in bloodthirsty anticipation.

  As one of them scrambled onto the vehicle, I launched myself at the roof of the neighboring car. The dogs tried to follow, but they kept slipping on the metal, unable to maintain their balance.

  I had escaped for the moment, but they were smart and determined. The dogs would find a way up, or else they'd simply keep me trapped up here until their masters awoke.

  Scanning the car cemetery, my eyes landed on a nearby building that must have been the wrecking yard's main office back in the day. The row of gutted vehicles extended all the way up to the structure in question. If I kept jumping from car to car, I
could work my way up to one of the building's dirt-caked windows.

  Plan in place, I advanced toward the building by leaping from one rusty car to the next. The phalanx of Rottweilers tracked my progress, patiently waiting for me to lose my balance and turn into their new favorite chewy toy.

  After hop-skipping across a dozen cars, I somehow reached the office building.

  I wrapped my coat around my hand and punched a hole through the window. Shards rained down on me as I reached through the hole and located the latch on the other side. A beat later, I opened the window and slipped into the building. I could almost feel the Rottweilers disappointment as they watched me disappear.

  The good news was that I had managed to get away from the dogs. But I was still trapped. The sole way out of the wrecking yard was past those ravenous dogs. And their numbers seemed to be growing with each passing minute. I counted about seven of the beasts now.

  Vampires had used both human and animal guardians since the beginning of time. Formidable creatures at night, they had learned to rely on other predators to keep them safe while they were at their most vulnerable.

  I peered out at the car cemetery, knowing all too well that Archer—or at least the thing Archer had turned into—was out there somewhere. Lost in the sleep of the damned, waiting to rise as soon as the sun vanished behind the horizon.

  I checked the time. Getting close to two o'clock. I still had about four hours before sunset. Plenty of time to find a way of this place, right?

  My best bet was to ring Skulick and have him send Benson and the troops into the junkyard. That's what I should have done in the first place, but I'd allowed my emotions to get the best of me—something that was quickly becoming an unfortunate pattern.

  I whipped out my cell. No signal. Perfect.

  I turned the phone off and on, but the results remained the same. Had these vampires resorted to a few other black magic tricks to secure their nest? Or had they gone high tech and set up a cell phone jammer?

  Speculating about it was a waste of time. I was trapped and couldn't expect any outside help. Refusing to get caught up in a bout of self-recrimination about going at it alone—that would come later once Skulick discovered what I'd been up to and chewed me out—I tried to steer my mind into a more constructive direction.

  My gaze roamed the wrecking yard while the massive Rottweilers gnashed their teeth and launched a salvo of barks at me. They seemed to be mocking me, waiting eagerly for me to be stupid enough to venture beyond the safety of the main building.

  Even though part of me felt tempted to make a run for it, I knew better. I couldn't outpace the pack. After besting demons and ghosts for all of my adult life, getting torn to shreds by a bunch of junkyard dogs would be a sad way to go.

  "Raven!"

  The voice made me whirl, a shiver crawling up my spine. It sounded exactly like Archer. My panicky gaze searched the pools of shadows, expecting my would-be girlfriend to peel from the darkness with fangs bared.

  No such thing happened.

  Hellseeker leveled, I took a cautious step into the encroaching blackness.

  I weaved past desks and office chairs in the main office space, making sure to avoid the obstacle course of junk carpeting the floor. Dust danced in the air, illuminated by a sickly gray light seeping through the dirty windows. Could some of the vampires be hiding out within the walls of this building? Anything was possible, but the burning sensation in my chest had subsided.

  I reached the end of the main office and froze as I picked up a muffled coughing sound. I sure as hell wasn't alone in the building. The sound had emanated from behind the closed door up ahead.

  I steadied my breathing, cleared my mind, and kicked the door open. The room was empty except for the naked, bald man sitting cross-legged at its center.

  The man stared at me with haunted eyes, his ascetic features pale and skeletal in the light knifing through a grime-encrusted skylight. Gaunt and raw-boned, the man's once-powerful build had been stripped bare of every ounce of fat, almost as if some sick freak had been trying to starve him to death. Morgal’s mark failed to respond to the man's presence, suggesting that whoever this spooky looking fella might be, he wasn't a vampire.

  I cautiously approached, finger whitening on the trigger. The mysterious man might not be a creature of the night, but there was something weird about him.

  As I drew closer, I took note of a faded pattern of strange occult tattoos decorating the man's body. And then I noticed the scars. Vampire bite marks lined every square inch of his exposed anatomy. His neck showed the worst damage. The undead bastards had been feeding on this poor soul for who knows how long.

  "Help me," the pitiful figure pleaded, his voice a glassy whisper, slate-gray eyes fixed on me. There was a near hypnotic quality to his gaze. My temples pulsed, rage quickening my breath. The vampires had fed on the stranger for weeks, maybe months, draining him of his own life-force and will to live. Judging by his sorry state, it was a miracle he was still alive.

  The man remained a statue as I closed in. I saw no restrains or chains, nothing that would explain why this rundown character figure hadn't tried to escape. Did the dogs keep him trapped in this building? Perhaps, but why had he barely moved since I entered the room?

  I took another step and that's when both Hellseeker and the Seal of Solomon, my magical ring which could ward of the forces of darkness, lit up with a spectral green light.

  That couldn't possibly be a good sign.

  My gaze turned to the dusty floor, where the outline of a large circle and pentagram appeared. Both circle and pentagram flashed with a fiery, menacing pulse of energy.

  A dark realization washed over me. I had stepped into a binding circle. Traps like this only worked on supernatural creatures. I understood now why the figure in front of me had not tried to escape. The bald man staring back at me wasn't human.

  I was looking at a demon.

  As soon as the thought slashed through my mind, the figure before me rose, somehow drawing energy from my presence.

  With horror, I realized that by setting foot into the binding circle, my blessed weapons must've have broken the wards that kept the entity trapped within this chamber. the demon flashed me a cool smile, the first hint of life creeping into his gaunt features.

  "Thank you, Raven."

  A new strength and energy filled the demon's voice. His eyes lit up with an incandescent fire, and I instinctively squeezed the trigger. I hadn't survived this long as a monster hunter by engaging demons in prolonged chit-chat. Even a second of hesitation could spell the difference between life and death.

  The roar of Hellseeker was deafening in the small space. But even though I'd moved as quickly as humanly possible, my reaction had come too late. The man—correction, demon—had vanished into thin air, and my blessed bullets bounced harmlessly against the wall. I swallowed hard, my face dripping sweat. What terrible evil had I inadvertently set free now?

  My breath coming in sharp bursts, I spun around. There was no trace of the demon. I was alone again. Archer wasn't here—she'd never been here.

  As my heartrate returned to normal, understanding dawned. The trapped demon had used his last reserves of power to probe my mind and lure me into the chamber with the sound of her voice. The demon must've known that my blessed weapons would break the magic seal that had kept him trapped in here for God knows how long. The holy power radiated by Hellseeker and the Seal of Solomon wasn't exactly subtle if you were tuned into the supernatural frequency. The demon had probably seen me coming from a block away.

  I tore back into the main chamber of the building and froze. Fear surged at the grisly sight that awaited me. The main door was wide open, and the steaming carcasses of the dead Rottweilers were piled up on the filthy carpet, the scent of their blood filling the air.

  Even in his emaciated state, the demon had cut a blood swath through the dogs. He must have torn the Rottweilers open and tossed them aside in a matter of seconds. But th
at was only part of the reason why my heart was pounding with naked terror. The light pouring through the open door had changed. A cloying darkness had settled over the wrecking yard.

  Gripped by a terrible premonition, I sprinted toward the nearest window. As I peered outside, my heart sank. A pale moon was rising, painting the world outside in ominous shadows.

  Somehow I'd lost hours when I breached the magical circle imprisoning the demon. It had felt like minutes to me, while in the real world at least four hours had passed. Black magic can warp space and time. That was one of the first lessons Skulick had drilled into me.

  He'd also taught me never to run off alone or let my emotions draw me into a fight I couldn't win. Guess I should have paid better attention to my mentor when I'd had the chance.

  A series of metallic creaks echoed through the night. I peered through the nearest window. Outside, the trunks of the rusting cars popped open one by one. Shadows bled from the vehicles, gaining shape and form as they poured into the moonlight.

  Bile barbed the back of my throat, and I clenched my teeth as the vampires emerged from their makeshift coffins. They all wore ragged hoodies and torn cargo pants or jeans—street kids transformed into monstrous gods. Like a hungry school of sharks, they circled the office building, knowing all too well that a living, breathing human with blood pumping through his veins was hiding inside.

  9

  Death was closing in.

  My eyes narrowed with the anticipation of violence. The weight of the blessed pistol in my hand provided meagre comfort, but I was glad to have it nonetheless.

  The origin of my blessed weapon was another mystery in a world of unanswered questions. I wasn’t even sure how it worked. All I knew was that the weapon had been forged from a magical sword and had served as my father’s most important weapon in the battle with the dark side.

  To the untrained eye, the gun looked to be a Beretta. And like that gun, it held fifteen 9mm rounds. The bullets themselves were standard issue; the ammo magically changed once fired, becoming a serious threat to the legions of darkness. Hellseeker didn’t discriminate between demons, ghosts or vampires—it destroyed them all.