Roaring Blood (Demon-Hearted Book 2)

by Ambrose Ibsen

  “Our experts on necromancy assure us that the thrall can never wander far from their master; that is, the zombies, in general, will stay within several miles of Agamemnon. If we can find this growing army, figure out where they're centered, then we should be able to trace the necromancer's location as well. Even as we speak we have patrols going on throughout Detroit and its suburbs, looking for the zombie 'hive', as it were. They're also searching the warehouse district, the sewer systems; no stone will be left unturned. We intend to strike hard and fast, as there still remain many thousands of bodies within the city that could be resurrected. Any casualties, too, will be raised to join his ranks. Do you have any questions for me, Lucian?”

  I chewed on my thumbnail. The plan made sense. We'd find out where the bulk of the zombies were hiding-- their nest, so to speak-- and then track down Agamemnon within a few miles so that we could launch a full-on strike against him. We'd take his weapon and then kill his ass so that his zombie army would crumble. Sure sounded easy in theory. In practice it was going to be a tall order, though.

  “If we are unsuccessful,” added Amundsen, “Detroit will be only the first stop on Agamemnon's tour of ruin. The first domino. The whole planet could fall under his sway if we're unsuccessful. We have experts being flown in from around the globe, and we're hopeful that we'll be able to contain and smother this war before it spreads, but it's possible we got involved too late. Agamemnon set everything up while we had our backs turned, worked right under our noses all this time.”

  “So how's this team going to work?” I asked. “Who's in charge?”

  Amundsen chuckled. “Well, the four of you-- Joe, Kanta, Percival and yourself are to be in command. The strike team will be split into two parts. You and Joe will lead a team of commandos. Percival and Kanta will have men under their control as well. Both halves of the team are to report directly to Chief Kubo, who will be involved with his own investigations.”

  “Oh, so it's a race, then? To see which team finds the zombie hideout first?” I leaned forward. “You know how this is gonna end, Mr. Amundsen. I'm gonna win.”

  “W-well,” replied Amundsen nervously, “I'm not sure I'd think about it in those terms, exactly. You're all a team, after all. It isn't a competition, Lucian.” He stood up. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other questions. I have faith in you, and am hopeful that we can still turn the tide.”

  With that, Amundsen walked away.

  I got up and sauntered back into the corner, where Joe was still politely chatting up Kanta and Percy. He was trying too damn hard; if only Joe knew what they'd tried to do to me he'd hate them every bit as much as I did. Sure, we'd have to “work together” for this mission, but once we got out into the field I planned to get even. I put up with a lot of shit in this line of work, but I'm not going to let some new talent waltz in and take the credit on an important mission after they tried to murder me.

  Kanta turned around, fixing me with a venomous glare. I sized her up, amused by the flicker of annoyance in her gaze. My eyes followed the contours of her tight sari and settled on her bust. Not to be a pig, but she had quite the rack on her.

  Ah, screw it. Call me a pig if you want. I'd get on all-fours and oink just to have a go at those fun-bags.

  She frowned while I stared at her chest. “You know, my eyes are up here,” she said.

  “Oh, I know,” I replied, my gaze unwavering. “But I'm not interested in your eyes.”

  Joe dragged me off before Kanta could slap me in the face for that one. “You need to cool it, man. Save the fighting and shit-talk for the necromancer, yeah?”

  I leaned in. “Let me tell you something. You and I are going to be the ones who find that necromancer. At the end of the day, when the war is won and they're passing out the medals, it's going to be Lightnin' Lucy and Fire Joe on that stage, got that? We don't need those two, Joe. They're insufferable. And besides, they're weak. What good's a damned exorcist going to do against a necromancer, huh? She couldn't even purge the demon from my body.”

  Joe shrugged. “Well, yeah. But you're a special case, seeing as how you've got a demon's heart in your body.”

  “Whatever. My point still stands. We don't need those two. Fuck 'em. You and I? We're golden. We're going to win the day.” I buried my hands in my pockets and stood up straight as Kanta walked by.

  “It's funny,” she said. “I've never met a demon that I couldn't exorcise.” She was talking to Percy loudly enough to be heard from a distance, probably trying to get a rise out of me. Then, glancing my way, she added, “When this job is over, I look forward to taking another stab at it.”

  I had a million and one barbs to throw her way, but I held my tongue. Instead of bringing down the house, I stood against the wall and watched her walk out of the conference room with Percy in tow, dreaming of all the ways I was going to show her up.

  Hell, who am I kidding? I was checking out her ass.

  FIFTEEN

  The Chief had managed some sleep by the looks of it, but he still appeared awfully haggard. He instructed Joe and I to stay at HQ. I guess he wanted us on constant standby for orders, since a call could come in at any moment. He was busy managing the patrols and consulting with various experts as they arrived.

  The conference room was empty now, and Joe and I sagged in a pair of chairs once again, staring up at the ceiling and making small-talk. “I've fought that necromancer twice, Joe. You know what that means, don't you?” I turned to him. “It means I've got more experience than anyone else in this fight. It means I'm the only one who really knows what to expect.”

  Joe snorted a laugh. “Dude, you got beat up by him twice. If anything, you're the only one who knows how bad it's going to hurt if he kicks our asses.”

  I kicked my heels up onto the edge of the nearest table. “Nah, the second time was a draw. Sort of. Anyway, that's not important. I stand a better chance of taking that prick out than Kanta and her boyfriend. That sword he's got is, uh, pretty cool. I admit it. But the way he carries it around everywhere makes it seem like he's... I dunno, compensating for something?”

  “Quit being so hot-headed, Lucy. This is a fight for our city, remember? There's a lot riding on this, so don't start running your mouth.” Joe opened and closed his Zippo rapidly. He reminded me of an old gunslinger testing each and every component of his six-shooter before a duel. “If that head of yours gets any bigger you could ruin us both, man. Like it or not, we're working as a team on this. When the job's over, do what you want, but for right now can't you just rein it in?”

  “You don't know what you're talking about.” I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, irate. Look, I knew that my showing against Agamemnon hadn't been the greatest. I knew that I hadn't come through, and I was feeling pretty rotten about fucking things up. But to have Joe riding my ass about teamwork, and about how I needed to rely on those two clowns, just rubbed me the wrong way. I was in no mood to be reminded of past failures, to be lectured. When I finally replied, I probably did so with a little too much vitriol. “Easy for you to say; you need others to protect you, Joe. When the going gets tough, you've got to hide somewhere to throw your fireballs around. Me? I have to get deep into it, waist-deep in shit.”

  “The hell's that supposed to mean?” asked Joe, slamming his lighter down on the table. “See, this is what I'm talking about. You're an ass sometimes, Lucy. Cut this shit out. If you were so damn tough you'd have killed the necromancer already. But you can't. Suck it up and give those other two a chance.”

  “Quit ordering me around,” said I. “I don't seem to remember signing on the dotted line to work for you.”

  “Boy, you're a lot more narcissistic than I gave you credit for.” Joe shook his head. “Didn't take long for this job to go to your head, huh? Think you're top dog now, that you're the whole show, just because you've got a demon inside of you? At the end of the day, this is just like any other job. You work with other people to get shit done, Lucy.
Maybe someday you'll learn that.” He paused. “I guess your past jobs didn't really drive that home, eh? Preying on poor people with that collection agency probably inflated your ego, made you feel real important. The Veiled Order doesn't have room for lone wolves, though. Lone wolves get singled out. They end up our enemies, man. You aren't working for loan sharks anymore, so cut the shit.”

  That set me off. Bringing up my old job as a debt collector was a mistake. It didn't make my reply any more forgivable, but I was fucking mad and I spoke up before I could help myself. I couldn't even pin this outburst on Gadreel, much as I would have liked to. “Yeah, well, at least I paid my debts when I had them. Unlike your mother.”

  You're probably shaking your head, writing me off as an irredeemable asshole for that one, huh? Well, good on you. I guess you've never said anything stupid or hurtful when in the throes of anger?

  If looks could kill, Joe would have murdered me right then. He stood up and kicked away his chair. “What did you just say to me?”

  I knew better than to push things any further. The bridge to Friendship Town was burning nice and fast. The last thing I needed was to throw more tinder on the pile. “Fuck it. Leave me alone.”

  Joe looked ready to deck me, but the phone in his pocket started to ring before he got the chance. “Yeah?” he answered, stepping away from the table. I could hear Kubo's voice on the other side. “They found something, huh?” Combing a hand through his hair, Joe hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He didn't even look back at me as he relayed the message. “We're leaving. Patrol found something in Swan Cove park.” Then he walked out.

  I stayed put for a minute, still fuming. I'd let my already wounded pride get the better of me and said hurtful things. Joe was a friend of mine, but you wouldn't have known it from hearing that little exchange of ours.

  One thing was for sure. The ride to the park was going to be long and awkward.

  ***

  As predicted, Joe and I didn't talk the whole way. Whenever he did speak to anyone, he gave only clipped responses. I sat in the back of the SUV, hands folded in my lap, watching the night scenery pass by through the tinted glass.

  So what if Joe doesn't want to talk to you? I thought. It's go-time, your time to shine. Yeah, maybe you were an asshole back there, but he shouldn't have run his mouth. No one around here takes you seriously. No one thinks you have the power to win this thing solo, but you'll show them. You've faced off against Agamemnon twice now. You've seen what he can do. He doesn't have any more surprises. You don't need a team to get things done here, but they sure as hell need you. I looked at Joe derisively. Throwing fireballs isn't going to solve the problem. You need real brawn to tangle with the necromancer, and soon everyone will see that you're the only one who's capable.

  My internal pep-talk was intended to pump me up, to get me angry and motivated. It wasn't working, though. Every word of it made me feel like a fraud. I'd escaped the last time, but Agamemnon had had things all but wrapped up against me. The guy could have carved me up like a Thanksgiving turkey if he'd wanted to, and it'd only been a bit of quick thinking that'd allowed me to weasel out of there.

  But I wouldn't allow myself to show weakness. Call it stubbornness, excessive pride, downright stupidity, but I wasn't going to allow myself to be held back by this “team” bullshit. Mine was a power that couldn't be restrained, a power unlike any other. And I was going to prove it. Joe could talk as much shit as he pleased. When all is said and done, talk is just talk. I was going to aim for something more substantial than that: Results.

  I'm going to tell you something you don't know about me. One of my greatest fears in life is being looked down upon as weak. Sounds like a generic fear; I mean, who likes being underestimated, right? But for me, it runs pretty deep. I think I've told you before about how I wasn't a particularly strong or active kid. Some would even say I was “lazy”.

  Once, when I was in fifth grade, I got picked on by this bully. His name was Juan, and I still remember, to this day, the way his big, crooked teeth stuck out from behind his lips. He was bigger than me, with a real loud mouth on him, and he loved to pick fights. Well, little Lucian was willing to take a lot of abuse at the hands of this kid. Insults, pranks-- anything you can imagine in the schoolyard, really. He stole my lunch a few times. When we played dodgeball in gym class he'd take a few minutes even after the game had ended to repeatedly hit me with the ball and then order the other kids to join in.

  One day, I stopped putting up with it, though. I'd spent too much time crying over the abuse, stressing out over going to school and feeling bad about myself. Those adults who constantly preached that violence wasn't the answer to conflict were drowned out in an instant when, during recess, Juan came up to me and shoved me down. I'd been wearing a new sweatshirt that day, a gift from my dad. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks since my parents had just recently split up, and dumb as it sounds, the sweatshirt meant a lot to me. Well, as it happens, I landed in a puddle and the thing got soaked through with muddy water.

  He laughed and laughed, calling me all sorts of names. “You gonna cry?” he asked, getting in my face.

  I won't lie. I did cry. But I also stood up and knocked his two front teeth out. I don't actually remember doing it; you could say that I snapped, blanked out for the duration of the fight. The next thing I knew I was being hauled off to the principal's office by two teachers and Juan's face was bleeding from every opening. I earned my first detention that way, and Juan eventually transferred to a different school.

  The important part, though? No one at that school ever said shit to me again. I'd defended myself, made it so that no one in the schoolyard would ever mistake me for an easy target again. Something changed inside of me that day.

  That's my long and flimsy justification for excessive self-pride, I guess. I was a kid who got picked on a lot, a kid who got tired of being looked at as weak, and who learned, early on, that in order to be taken seriously you have to step up to the plate. I've never responded well to being underestimated, and when Joe started discussing my failures it hurt all the more because he was supposed to be my friend.

  The bully was Agamemnon now, and I was angry about more than just a soiled sweatshirt, but the fight was the same. It would have been easier to agree with Joe, to lean on the rest of the team and hope that we could all pull off a victory together. But my fight with the necromancer was personal now. I had something to prove here, and goddamn it, I was going to see this through on my own. If the others wanted to lend their support I'd have no problem with it. But when the time came for the final showdown, that hooded hulk was mine and mine alone.

  Gadreel had a bone to pick with him too. It was absolutely possible that my ordinarily stubborn tendencies were coming in harder than ever because of the demon's influence. It wouldn't surprise me if being demon-possessed somehow amplified the less desirable aspects of one's personality, but I wasn't going to hide behind that. I was willing to own it: I was going to prove to everyone just how wrong they were to write me off. I did have the strength to take on this monster alone, and I was going to make it a matter of public record.

  We got to the park. The SUVs rolled to a stop in the lot, and I immediately climbed over the seats to get out. Stepping out into the warm night, I had a look around at the dark trails that opened up before us, at the rows of empty picnic tables and grills. There were two other SUVs parked nearby, both of them teeming with commandos. They were checking their weapons and talking over radios.

  And then I saw something that made my stomach turn.

  In amongst this other group of commandos were the two jackasses Amundsen had hired, Kanta and Percy. What the hell are they doing here? I'd been under the impression that this call had been for Joe and I alone.

  “Well,” I said, walking up to them with a scowl, “come to follow along with me, have you? Very kind, but I think I'll be all right on my own.”

  Percy smirked. He was a hair taller than
the SUV he leaned against. “I know demons are supposed to be pompous, but this guy really thinks the world of himself, doesn't he?”

  Kanta rolled her eyes. “Oh, he's talking, is he? I've just trained myself to filter out his voice. No sense in getting worked up over a demon's conceit.”

  “Have it your way. Just try to keep up.” I whistled loudly, waving over Joe and the team of guys we'd come with. “Let's go.”

  The commandos shouldered their guns and walked over reluctantly. I knew they weren't fond of me, weren't looking forward to taking my orders, but it was time to get the show on the road. I wasn't going to let Kanta and Percy set out first and make the big find before our guys had even started down the path. If push came to shove I'd let Joe handle the troops and just go on ahead of the group. They seemed to like Joe better anyway. He didn't have a demon in him.

  “Cool it,” warned Joe. “No stupid grandstanding, or I swear to God--”

  “Come on,” I said, pointing to the trail ahead. “The patrols found a big group of undead deep in the woods here, yeah? Whereabouts? Take us to it.”

  The trooper fielding my question confirmed the location of the find over his radio. “Yeah, it's about a mile in, off-trail. There's a big ravine there that's laced with a series of tunnels. They saw more than a hundred zombies hanging out there.”

  More than a hundred? That was rough. I nodded, appearing unfazed by the news. “All right. Lead the way.” I peered back at Joe, then at Percy and Kanta, who'd come up to join us, grinning. “Let's get this party started.”

  I followed on the trooper's heels as he started out of the parking lot and bypassed all of the marked trails. Aside from Joe, Percy and Kanta, we'd brought along about fifteen guys, all of them decked out in black bulletproof gear and packing serious heat. Not that I paid them any mind. As we marched into the dark woods, it was just me and the guide, as far as I was concerned. The two of us charged onward, and once I got a general idea of where we were headed, I even pulled ahead of him.