Devil's Due

by Percival Constantine

  “Perhaps I should have been a bit more specific—guns are useless here,” he said. “I’ve been imbued with the power of Heaven, Mr. Cross. It’s going to take a lot more than a chain-smoking cambion with some fancy weapons and a few spells up his sleeve to stop me.”

  “Why are you doing it?” I asked.

  “Why? To purify the world, of course,” said the Minister.

  “‘Purify.’” I scoffed. “Did you purify your wife when you found out about her affair?”

  The Minister’s lips tightened, but he didn’t look away from me. “I did what was righteous. She’d been possessed.”

  “Or is that just what you told yourself to make it easier?”

  “I did what had to be done. Then I spent years wandering in the desert, so to speak. Eventually, he came to me. Showed me what I had to do. He said that, together, we could transform this wretched world into paradise.”

  “And all it took was abducting a few innocent girls. All to build him an army.”

  “God’s army,” said the Minister.

  I shook my head. “You stupid sack of shit. The creation of nephilim are forbidden. They nearly destroyed the planet the last time they walked free. What you’re doing is going to destroy the tenuous truce that’s existed between Heaven and Hell. You’re going to bring war down on all of us, the likes of which you’ve never seen before.”

  “Yes, a holy war for the souls of all mankind,” said the Minister. “And when it’s over, once the dust has cleared, the gates of Hell will remain forever shut and we will live in paradise.”

  “I should know better than to try and talk sense into a fanatic.”

  The Minister sighed. “It seems obvious you won’t listen to reason, Mr. Cross. Such a pity. You may be demon-spawn, but part of me hoped we could purify you as well. So much for that.”

  The Minister held his hand up and his eyes pulsed with blue energy. One by one, my fingers were painfully pried off the revolver. It still hovered there in the air, slowly moving across the room until the Minister took hold of it by the barrel and examined the weapon, running his fingers across its surface.

  “Nice craftsmanship,” he said with an appreciative smile. “Have you ever felt what it’s like?”

  He took hold of the gun by the butt, aimed, and fired. The bullet struck my leg and I fell to the ground with a grunt. I pulled myself up to rest on one bent leg, staring across the room at the Minister, who now laughed.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  It burned. Felt just like when Azrael stabbed me with my own knife. I looked over at Dakota, who struggled against her chains and tried to scream but couldn’t. The demon inside me was screaming for release, too. Letting it out, giving in to that side of myself—it might be the only way. There still wasn’t any sign of Raziel, and so I had to do something to suss out the angel behind all this.

  In my mind, I pictured a demonic version of me, thrashing against a cage. And I imagined myself opening that cage and letting him out.

  My heart sped up, my body pulsing with power; I felt a rush go through me.

  I smiled at the Minister with bared teeth, now growing into fangs. The bullet in my leg burned even more as I changed, but I pushed past that pain.

  “What are you doing?” asked the Minister.

  “You wanted a demon-spawn? You got one.” I snickered as I raised the dagger up.

  The Minister fired again, but I was too quick. I crossed the distance between us in a fraction of a second, knocking the gun from his hand and grabbing him by the shirt collar. I threw him across the room and he slammed into one of the bookcase, cracking the shelves. He slumped to the ground, the volumes tumbling over his body.

  He opened his eyes and they flashed blue. The books flew off him one by one as he stood. I threw the dagger. He couldn’t stop it before it struck him in the gut. The Minister bent over, grasping the hilt and pulling it free from his body. I held out my hand, using my mind to push it back in and twist it.

  “Do you hear me?” I shouted, casting my eyes up to the ceiling. “I can’t kill the girl, but I can kill your puppet! And the other three! You think I won’t do it?”

  The Minister screamed; I could hear thunder in the distance. I looked over at the three on the couch and held up my hand. They all sat still, just watching in silence. I didn’t want to push things this far, but the demon was in control now. From inside myself, I whispered an apology to Dakota.

  “Ignis.”

  Flames erupted in front of the couch, slowly moving closer to the girls. They didn’t react at all, still frozen in place by the Minister’s power. I heard the chains rattle and glanced over at Dakota as she screamed her silent protest.

  “You want them to die?” I shouted.

  Light filled the room and the flames were suddenly squelched. My hold on the Minister vanished. I looked down at my hand and tried again, but couldn’t use any power on him. I was being bound.

  The light centered in one spot in front of me. It took the form of wings, slowly opening and then receding into the back of a man in a trench coat with a cloak over his head. His eyes burned with azure power in the darkness of the shroud and he held his hand out to the side. The blue, flaming sword of judgment appeared in his grasp and he brought it to bear right before me.

  “Cross,” said Azrael. “Your time has finally come.”

  34

  The moment Azrael hurled me through the ceiling and my back broke through the old wood, I started to think that maybe my plan could’ve used a little bit more work. I landed on my back in the sitting room, a coffee table and chair having been overturned by my sudden eruption, broken slats and splinters all around me.

  Light filled the room and I looked over to see Azrael hovering from the hole before landing gracefully on his feet. He stared at me as he approached, the flaming sword hovering over my head. I looked right back up at him, lying flat on my back and barely able to move.

  “You eluded me before, cambion,” said Azrael. “But now there are no hellhounds to distract me. No archdemons to help you escape. Now you face the wrath of Azrael.” He raised the sword above his head, prepared to strike.

  I held up my hand as best I could, muttering in a weak voice, “Stop…”

  Azrael paused, his lips twitching in the center of his beard. “Why should I stop? There is a contract on your head.”

  “I know,” I said, coughing. Azrael brought his sword down so it hovered over my throat. Beads of sweat began rolling down my face in response to the soulfire’s heat. “Just…a minute to explain? Grant a dying man his last words?”

  Azrael drew the sword back. I had to hope Raziel would arrive soon. If not, I doubted anything I could say would convince Azrael to spare my life. But I had to give it a shot. Silver-tongued devil, after all.

  “You have your last words, cambion. Make them count.”

  “D-down in the basement…the Minister…” I coughed. “They’re making—”

  My voice died in my throat. I looked up and I saw the Minister standing near the staircase, leaning against it. His eyes glowed blue and his hand was outstretched. He was trying to take my voice from me, just as he’d done with Dakota.

  “L-Lord Azrael,” said the Minister. “I am but a lowly servant of Heaven. Please, allow me the honor of slaying this demon!”

  “You know who I am?” Azrael backed away from me, turning to face the Minister. I watched as he tilted his head to the side, presumably out of curiosity. “I…sense the power of Heaven within you, mortal. You have been blessed by the Holy Spirit?”

  Oh, shit, that doesn’t sound good. Having both these two on my ass when I could barely stand? I turned myself onto my side and reached out for a broken shard of wood. I tore it across my hand to draw blood and dipped my fingers into it. Blood sigil might be the only hope at this point, just like Tessa had done earlier to get rid of Dakota.

  But in my weakened state, and with Azrael’s power, I had no clue if it would work.

  “
Who sent you?” asked Azrael. “What is your purpose here, mortal?”

  “I am just a simple servant, sent here to destroy this cambion!” The Minister pointed at me. “He’s taken women, my lord. Devout worshippers. I was sent to rescue them.”

  I stopped drawing the sigil. What the hell was Luxton playing at here? As soon as Azrael went down into the basement, he’d see Dakota there and he’d know what Luxton was really up—

  Goddamn, how come I hadn’t realized it before? That was why Raziel didn’t know it was a nephilim. It was protected from harm—all harm. Luxton or his boss must’ve cast some sort of spell on Dakota to keep the child from being detected by angels or demons. That was the only way they could have gotten this far.

  If Azrael went down into that basement, he’d see a bunch of girls sitting on the couch. And since they were under Luxton’s control, they’d say whatever he wanted them to say. And as for Dakota? She couldn’t speak, Azrael can’t sense the nephilim, and the Minister would easily explain that as me having chained her up.

  “All I ask, my lord, is you give me the honor of slaying this demon-spawn,” said the Minister, kneeling before Azrael.

  I went back to work on the sigil. My vision blurred as I tried to draw. I was weak and my hand moved slower. If I tried this sigil, it would probably kill me, but it would also blast Azrael away long enough for Raziel to arrive and clean up. If I didn’t try it, Azrael would kill me anyway and the Minister might be able to get away.

  No matter what, I was screwed.

  Azrael looked in my direction and smiled. “I respect your role in this, servant. But I have taken this contract personally, and would love nothing more than to eradicate this cambion from the planet.”

  “As you wish, my liege.” The Minister rose to his feet as Azrael approached me. I watched as the Minister retreated into the basement, saying before he closed the door, “I will check on the girls.”

  “Yes, you do that.”

  Azrael slammed the sword into the sigil, narrowly missing my hand. I sighed and rolled onto my back.

  “A blood spell, Cross? Impressive. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough.”

  He raised the flaming sword above his head with both hands, the blade pointed right at my head. I closed my eyes and prepared for death.

  * * *

  Dakota struggled against the chains, but to no avail. She could do nothing but watch as that angel knocked Luther through the ceiling and then went up after him. When the Minister was free from Luther’s hold, he’d gone up as well, leading just Dakota and the girls down there alone.

  Looking at her friends, Dakota saw they were all still in a trance. She had to do something. That angel had looked like he was going to kill Luther, but she was sure it wasn’t the same one who did this to her. They still had a chance, if only Dakota could free herself.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In the past, she’d drawn on the nephilim’s power to defend herself, back when Robert had picked her up. That’s what Luther had said anyway. Back then, it had been on instinct, but she hoped she could do it consciously this time.

  “Mother, what do you think you’re doing? This isn’t the way we do things. Father will be very upset with you.”

  “Quiet.” Dakota gasped when she heard her own voice. She didn’t know if the Minister broke the spell keeping her silent or if she was succeeding. But she kept trying, speaking while her eyes remained closed and she focused her mind on the task. “Listen to me. You may be the son of an angel, but you’re also my kid. And you will do as I say, do you understand?”

  She felt the nephilim bristle at her command. But she stood firm.

  “You don’t have power over me. I’m the one in control here. You know it, I know it, and your father sure as hell knows it. Which is why you’ve been trying to keep me scared. You haven’t been controlling me, you’ve been scaring me into doing what you say. Well, I’ve had it with that.”

  “Mother, stop. You don’t know what you’re saying. This path…it’s dangerous for both of us.”

  “Is it?” Maybe that was the key, she thought. Dakota grabbed hold of the chain binding her to the wall. It was heavy and iron. She raised it carefully and started to wrap it around her neck. Tightly. “Maybe you’d better do as I say then.”

  Silence was the voice’s response. And then, her eyes began to glow. She’d seen how Luther would go up against insurmountable odds without backing down. Even when the nephilim had taken control of her and nearly killed him, he and Tessa had never given up. Now it was Dakota’s turn to follow their example.

  She looked down at the shackles around her wrists and they popped open. Dakota looked at the girls on the couch and held her hand out to them with her palm outstretched. Her eyes flashed with purple light, and the girls blinked, shaking their heads like they were waking from a dream.

  “D-Dakota?” asked Rachel.

  “Stay here.” Dakota turned from them and approached the staircase. Before she could take the first step, the door opened and the Minister appeared in the stairwell. He stared down at her and held out his hand.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. “Get back!”

  Dakota instinctively took a step back. This man had haunted her nightmares for far too long. She’d succumbed to his power, was forced to be his slave. Even now, when she was taking control of the power within her, she started to shrink beneath his hard stare.

  No more, she told herself. She wouldn’t allow Joseph Luxton to keep her prisoner anymore. “No,” she said.

  “You dare talk back to me? I’ll—”

  Dakota held her own hand up and squeezed. The Minister’s eyes widened in surprise as his voice was cut off. “Let’s see how you like being silenced.”

  She began to slowly ascend the steps, continuing to squeeze. The bright blue light began fading from the Minister’s eyes. His power wasn’t enough to compete with hers. Whatever abilities he’d had, he wasn’t as strong as she was.

  “You thought you could control me,” she said. “Thought you could control all of us. Well now, I’ve had it!”

  Dakota twisted her wrist and the Minister’s head spun all the way around with a crack. She walked up the stairs, stepping over the Minister’s lifeless body, and into the sitting room.

  There, she bore witness to the angel about to kill Luther.

  “Stop!” she screamed.

  The angel turned, moving his gaze from Luther to her. He lowered his sword, as if surprised to see her standing there. “What is the meaning of—”

  A bright light appeared in the center of the room. Wings of light opened, revealing a figure in a white suit with blond hair standing between Azrael and Dakota. The wings shrunk into his back and he straightened his jacket, then smiled at the hooded angel.

  “Hello, brother. Thought we might have a chat.”

  35

  “Raziel,” said Azrael, the soulfire receding from his blade.

  For my part, I tried to move to a sitting position, watching the drama unfold before me. I could see Dakota standing in front of the open door to the basement, and behind her, I saw the body of the Minister. Her eyes were glowing, and that meant she’d managed to harness the nephilim’s power for her own. And that was when Raziel had showed up.

  “Took you long enough,” I mumbled.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment, Luther,” said Raziel.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Azrael.

  “To stop you from making a colossal mistake.” Raziel looked over his shoulder and seemed like he spotted Dakota for the first time. “You must be the girl. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “There is a contract on Cross’ head. He’s been marked for death by—”

  “Brother, someone’s gone rogue upstairs,” said Raziel.

  That shut Azrael up right away. He took a step back and glanced over at me.

  I pulled myself up to the wall and leaned against it, then shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I tried to tell you.”


  “Someone is trying to create nephilim,” said Raziel. “Luther discovered it. Just look at the girl here.”

  He gestured to Dakota. Whatever spell the angel had put on her to keep her concealed didn’t seem to work when she used the nephilim’s power right in front of them. Or maybe the spell was tied to the Minister. Either way, it looked like everything was out in the open.

  “But the contract—”

  “Someone wanted me out of the way,” I said.

  “He’s been bestowing powers on mortal followers, like this man here,” said Raziel. “I have a confession from one.”

  “One of our brothers is trying to create nephilim?” asked Azrael.

  “Cross was working for me this whole time,” said Raziel. “We have more important things to worry about than him. Should this become public knowledge…”

  “I understand the risks.” Azrael’s sword vanished completely. He took one last look at me, then stared at Dakota. “I trust you will take things from here?”

  Raziel nodded.

  “Good. I have no desire to remain on this mudball for longer than necessary.” Wings of light emerged from Azrael’s back, wrapping around his body. In a flash, he was gone.

  Raziel walked over to me and knelt, placing two fingers on my forehead. His eyes flashed blue and in an instant, I felt all my wounds close. I could move again and the pain was completely gone. He extended a hand and helped me to my feet.

  “Thank you for delivering Grissom. He proved most informative,” said Raziel. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to beat Azrael here. Whoever was behind this must have sent him after you.”

  “What do you mean ‘whoever?’” I asked. “You still don’t know the angel responsible?”

  Raziel shook his head. “Unfortunately, Grissom didn’t know. I’d hoped we could learn that information from Luxton, but…”

  Dakota looked back at the Minister’s body and sighed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I just…”

  “It’s okay,” I said. Raziel looked back at me and raised a questioning eyebrow. My response was a hard glare. “You don’t need him alive for questioning. His soul’s still around.”