Bad Grace (Watcher Chronicles Book 1)

by N. P. Martin

  Frank, on the other hand, was spent. His legs felt like jelly and he sat straight back down on the couch again once he’d pulled his jeans and Deep Purple T-shirt on again. “You still fuck like you did years ago.”

  Eva was pouring bourbon into the glasses, her cleavage almost spilling out of her thin robe as she bent over the coffee table. Damn, she’s beautiful, Frank thought as he watched her. The passion she brought to their fucking was incredible, like she was trying to devour him completely. Some of the looks she gave him while she rode on top of him on the couch, at times he thought he must be fucking a demon. But it was just Eva, a woman he’d known since college, and that made it all the more exciting for him, all the more intense. “I got a no doubt rare glimpse of what’s inside you.”

  Frank took the glass she offered. “Oh yeah? Hope it didn’t scare you too much.”

  “You’ve changed, that’s for sure.” Eva sat next to him on the couch, her legs curled up underneath her, looking like a resting cat.

  “You haven’t.” Frank looked into those eyes again, searched for the dark mystery behind all the blue. Found it. Stared at it the way you would stare up into the night sky, wondering at all the mystery and wonder that lay there. It was that near hidden part of her that fascinated him, which had always fascinated him.

  Eva gave a small shrug. “I’ve changed, just not as obviously as you. I see a lot more darkness in you than I used to though.”

  Darkness.

  You know all about the darkness, don’t you, Frank?

  “Maybe I’ve just spent too long in it,” he said. “Maybe it’s finally corrupted me.”

  “You believe that?”

  Frank stared resignedly at the coffee table in front of him. “I don’t really know what to believe anymore. That’s the truth.”

  Eva stroked the side of his face with the back of her warm and slender hand. “You’ll find a way through it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Frank said and then drained his glass. “Anyway, you still working cases, I take it?”

  Eva nodded. “I don’t do as much field work as I used to. Research is more my thing these days.”

  Frank grabbed the bottle off the table and poured both glasses again. “You’re really wasting those damn fine skills of yours on the books?”

  “I grew tired of the hunting, all the violence.”

  “You were good at it. One of the best.”

  “Who says I’m not still?”

  Frank smiled. “Not me.”

  Eva drank slowly from her glass. “What were you working on tonight to almost get killed?”

  Frank shook his head at the memory, of the pain he felt when he was duct taped to that chair in the basement of the demon bar. “Demon’s stealing souls. The usual shit.”

  “Wait,” Eva said. “Stealing souls?”

  “Yeah. Apparently they do some ritual that steals the soul of the victim, turning the victim into some kind of ticking time bomb psycho.”

  “Yes. I’ve actually heard about that.”

  “Really? How?”

  “Someone came to me a few days ago,” Eva said. “This person told me about their husband who was apparently acting very weird after being abducted by some gang on his way home from a bar. The husband’s memory of the abduction was hazy apparently, but the wife said he talked about some strange ritual he was put through before he was released several hours later.”

  Frank nodded. “The ritual allows the gang to steal the soul of the victim.”

  “I didn’t know that when the woman came to me. I thought it was just demons or some other supernatural fucking with humans again. Happens all the time, right? But then just yesterday, I see online that the woman’s husband went on a rampage downtown. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.”

  “I was busy.”

  Busy hitting the bottle.

  “Anyway, he kills about twelve people with a kitchen knife, just stabbing anyone he can get close to. The cops put him down, needless to say.”

  “Jesus. And these fucking scumbag demons are making more people like that guy?” Frank shook his head. “Imagine the damage people like that could cause the city.”

  “You don’t need to imagine now. It’s all over the news.”

  “I found the gang responsible tonight, over on the Southside. They’ve taken the place over, including a bar there that they’ve made their den. I was checking things out when one of them got the jump on me. Motherfuckers taped me to a chair.”

  “Hence the reason for the grace explosion, I presume.”

  “Yeah,” Frank said, nodding. “I was out of options.”

  “Well,” said Eva standing, tightening her robe. “You’re not out of options anymore.”

  “Why’s that?” Frank asked, though he already knew the answer from the look on Eva’s face, the look of a woman who had just made her mind up about something.

  “Because we’re going to work this case together.”

  Frank thought about it. He had been working alone for the past year. Maybe it would do him some good to hook up with someone again, even if it was just for one case. He’d been wallowing too long anyway. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere soon, at least not by his own hand, so what the hell?

  “Alright,” he said. “But first I’m getting some sleep.”

  Eva smiled. “I’ll take you to the bedroom.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Frank awoke several hours later, naked in Eva’s bed. She wasn’t lying beside him when he woke, though they did sleep together, sans sex. He sat up and put a hand to his head. “Jesus,” he said, rubbing his forehead. The pain had subsided quite a bit, though there was still a dull ache there on the top of his skull. When he touched it he winced at how sensitive it was. God damned demon had nearly cracked his skull open. Probably fractured it. It would heal soon though. Couple more days and the only thing he’d be feeling again where his hangovers.

  The room was dark as the curtains were still drawn, so he got up and pulled them open, wincing at the light that exploded through the window. “Jesus,” he said for the second time.

  His clothes were on the cold hardwood floor by the bed. As he bent to pick them up, he noticed the photo frame on the bedside table. It was a small silver frame and the photo inside was of Eva and Rachel, standing smiling together, both of them looking radiant and gorgeous. They looked to be barely in their twenties. It was the first time he had seen the picture and he gazed at for a minute as he remembered back to when they had all attended the Watcher Facility for training and it was Eva and Rachel and him and his older brother, Dean. It was a time of much less darkness, an exciting time. They walked around as if they were invincible, feeling important because they knew things other people didn’t, of a world that existed beyond the one everyone knew about, a world of demons and monsters and the fight of good against evil. Yep, they all thought they were the shit, and they were for a good while. Then Dean and Rachel got together, ended up getting married, having kids. The party broke up after that.

  You broke it up, Frank, with your petty jealousy and envy. You just couldn’t rest until you had me again, could you? And then look what happened.

  I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.

  That’s your trouble, Frank. You never mean for anything to happen, but something always does happen, doesn’t it?

  Frank forced himself to look away from the photo and quickly got dressed so he could leave the bedroom, a place he suddenly didn’t feel comfortable in anymore.

  In the kitchen, Eva was sitting at the dining table, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Her hair was loosely tied back and she was engrossed in an old looking book that lay open in front of her. She looked up and smiled when he walked into the kitchen. “The dead arises,” she said. “Coffee?”

  “Please.” Frank took a seat at the table, across from where Eva was sitting. He glanced at the book on the table and saw most of it was written in Latin. Languages were never his strong point.
The only dead languages he spoke were the ones in certain rituals and spells, ones he needed to know for on the job purposes. The rest he didn’t bother with much.

  “Head feel better this morning?” Eva asked as he made coffee.

  “Much better. Thanks for the grace.”

  Eva smiled suggestively from the kitchen, said, “It wasn’t just the grace we exchanged.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she laughed.

  “You’re still so easy to embarrass, Frank.”

  He shook his head. “Piss off.”

  Eva sat a steaming cup of black coffee on the table in front of him and sat down. “I’ve been doing some research this morning.”

  “So I see.” Frank sipped the coffee. It tasted good.

  “I found some information concerning the ritual used to steal the souls. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

  “Fire away.”

  “Well,” Eva said, looking briefly down at the book. “The book lists the ingredients needed for the ritual to work. Most of the ingredients are fairly commonplace and would be easy enough to obtain. However, there is one vital ingredient that stands out as being not too easy to obtain.” She was looking at him with barely concealed excitement.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “An angel feather.”

  “Okay. You can buy those on the black market, if I’m not mistaken. Still rare, but obtainable, especially for a demon.”

  “I know,” Eva said nodding. “But what about an archangel feather?”

  “Next to impossible to get. Wait, are you saying you need one for the ritual?”

  “Yes. According to the book, the feather must be from an archangel.”

  “So how would Krakus and his crew have gotten a hold of one? They didn’t strike me as the kind of demons with that sort of reach.”

  “Well they obviously know someone who does.”

  “But who? Does that mean they’re working with someone higher up? Another demon, maybe, something high level?”

  “To get hold of an archangel feather, they would have to be pretty high up. I’m not even sure how high.”

  Frank thought for a minute. “I’ll go back to this Lucas guy, ask him if he knows anything. In the meantime, keep researching, see what you can find. Maybe tonight we hit the Southside, stake the bar out for a while.”

  “Sounds good,” Eva said smiling.

  “You’re enjoying this.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve worked a real case. Haven’t much felt like it since Rachel died.”

  The mention of her decimated Frank’s relaxed state. His stomach tensed up and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the coffee cup. The familiar guilt started to fill up in him again.

  Eva said, “You know you haven’t even mentioned her name once since you came here last night.”

  “Nothing to say,” he said, staring into his coffee cup, wishing now that it was whiskey in the cup.

  “Of course there is, Frank. Have you even spoke to anyone about this?”

  “What the fuck is there to say, Eva?” he snapped. “She’s dead. She sold her fucking soul to bring me back from the dead. Now she’s in Hell.” He slammed a fist down on the table. “Why didn’t she just leave me dead?”

  “Because she loved you.”

  Frank winced at that. “If she loved me so fucking much, why’d she marry my damn brother?”

  “She was afraid, Frank.” Eva looked away for a second. “She was afraid of self destructing along with you, so she chose a more stable relationship with Dean. I think she was trying to save you both.”

  Frank laughed bitterly. “She did a great fucking job of it, didn’t she?”

  Eva sighed and looked away from him. “Regardless, she made her own choices. You can’t go around blaming yourself for everything that happened.”

  He stood up. “I’ll see you later, Eva.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Rosemount primary School was situated not far from the old steel mill that was currently undergoing demolition to make way for local housing for the less well off in the neighborhood. It was a small school, full up with kids whose parents were on welfare or worked low income jobs. The more well off families sent their kids to Clair Hill Primary across the city where classes weren’t as full and facilities were a lot better.

  Frank sat across the street in his black Chevy, looking towards the school yard. Any minute now it would be morning break time and the kids would come spilling out of the school so they could play in the yard. When the doors opened and the kids came out, Frank searched until he found the two kids he was looking for. They always stood apart from the rest, looking scruffy and glum while all the other kids ran around, playing games, teasing each other, doing what kids do when allowed to run free.

  The two kids Frank had his eye on—a girl and boy, eight years old—looked like outsiders the way they stood. They looked like they were guarding each other, like they expected trouble to come along any minute. This was their second school in a year.

  Rachel’s kids, Leia and Josh.

  Frank started keeping tabs on them a few months after their parents died. They were on their third foster home already. The girl, she looked so much like Rachel. The same long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes.

  My kids, Frank. I miss them so much.

  The kids didn’t know Frank at all. They were born just before their father told Frank he never wanted to see him again.

  I know why you keep watching them, Frank.

  Adopting the two kids after Rachel’s death was out of the question for Frank. They’d be better off in foster care than with him. With him, they would end up dead or worse. He was certain of that.

  She reminds you of me, doesn’t she, Frank?

  He watched the kids until they had to go back inside again, then he drove off.

  Despite it being before noon, the Demon Ecstasy club was open for business. Naked girls danced on the stages. Guys sat and watched while drinking. There was no time in these clubs, just an endless twilight.

  Lucas was upstairs in his office. He waved down through the big window that overlooked the club, signaled to the bouncer to let Frank up the stairs.

  “I went to check out your demon gang on the Southside last night,” Frank said, helping himself to a glass of Lucas’s expensive whiskey before sitting on the couch.

  Lucas looked put out by Frank making himself at home, but he didn’t comment on it. He was dressed in a different suit from the one he wore the night before. The suit he wore now was light gray and perfectly contrasted with the brown skin of his meat suit. “Did you now?” he said.

  “Yeah. I met Krakus. Nice guy. Into getting high on human blood and throwing mass demon orgies, not to mention dabbling in torture.”

  Lucas sat back in his chair, made a steeple with his fingers. “Rough night, I take it?”

  Frank nodded. “You could say that.”

  “I hope it wasn’t for nothing.”

  “I found out some stuff. First though, tell me your involvement in all this.”

  Lucas looked confused. “I told you, I’m not involved in any way.”

  “Feathers.”

  “What?”

  “Feathers. More specifically, angel feathers.”

  “Angel feathers?”

  “Archangel feathers.”

  Lucas shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk?”

  “Not yet, no.” Frank took a drink from his glass. Swallowed. “What would a feather like that be worth to you, Lucas?”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “You’re aware of the power in a single feather, right? I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how useful an item like that could be to a demon such as yourself. I mean, in the right hands, the possibilities could be endless, right? But only in the right hands. You’d have to know how to harness that power, wouldn’t you?”

  Lucas listened patiently while Frank spoke, then he said, “How would you
know about the feather?”

  “I did my research, or rather a friend of mine did some research. It’s what we do. Anyway, she found out that in order to pull of this ritual to steal souls, you needed an archangel feather, but you already knew that, didn’t you, Lucas?”

  Lucas smiled as he stared back at Frank. “I may have known about the feather, yes, but my first priority is getting this gang stopped.”

  “I’d like to believe you, but I don’t.”

  “Believe what you want. I want this gang stopped before they cause too much disruption. The feather would just be a nice bonus.”

  Frank got up, refilled his glass. Sat back down. “What’s your interest in the feather? What do you need it for? You seem to be getting along just fine without it.”

  “I want the feather for personal reasons,” Lucas said. “Not for any nefarious scheme that you might be thinking of.”

  Frank snorted. “What am I supposed to think? You’re a demon.”

  “We don’t all want world domination, Frank. Some of us are happy living in peace.”

  “Whatever the reason, I’m not your fetcher. If I find the feather, it’s going to the Council.”

  It was Lucas’s turn to snort. “The Watcher High Council?”

  “Well, not the damn city council. Of course the Watcher Council. We have to hand in all artifacts.”

  Lucas was shaking his bald head. “You ever wonder why the Council demands that you hand everything like that in?”

  “They lock the shit up,” Frank said. “So demons like you don’t get their hands on it.”

  “And what right do they have to do that?”

  “Hey, it’s the Council. I don’t make the rules. It’s how it’s always been.”

  Lucas leaned forward in his seat. “Then ask yourself this, Frank. Where did the feather come from in the first place? Who would most likely be in possession of such a rare item?”

  Frank thought for a second. “Shit,” he said.

  As Frank was leaving the club he got a call on his cell phone from Eva. “Have you seen the news yet?” she asked.