Roaring Blood (Demon-Hearted Book 2)

by Ambrose Ibsen

  Percy shook his head. “It's not like that.” Once both of the shackles were on and I was stuck in the center of the room, he stroked at his bearded cheek and offered what I took to be a polite smile. “I just wanted a chance to thank you.”

  “Wait, what?” I arched a brow. “You want to thank me?”

  Percy crossed his arms. “I don't want you thinking I'm a fan of your kind or anything, but you've done a lot of good work. I admit that Kanta and I may have misjudged you. If you hadn't stepped up at the armory we wouldn't have gotten the sword. Joe told us all about it, about what happened back there. I don't blame you for wanting to fight tonight.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said, rattling my chains.

  “You don't really know me too well,” began Percy. “We kind of got off on the wrong foot, you and I. See, I spent years on the road with my old man, hunting monsters. That's what my line has done for ages now. My dad, his dad-- all hunters. And damn good ones, too. Demons, werewolves; you name it, we kill it. But he taught me a lot more than just how to kill things. See, my dad taught me when to stand down... when to listen to the orders of my superiors and obey them, even when I don't want to. That's what you've gotta do here, Lucy. I know you're worried about this fight, about the city, but I think you'll see very soon now that the Chief is right. Bringing you along is too dangerous. Still, we're going to pull through tonight, even though you can't come with us. You'll be with us in spirit. When we win against the necromancer, it'll be a win for all of us, and it wouldn't have been possible without your help.”

  “You know, I've never thought of it that way before,” I said in reply to his half-baked, overly-sentimental anecdote. I pursed my lips a minute to keep from puking on him. Leave that shit on the Hallmark Channel where it belongs, is what I wanted to say. “Good luck tonight.” I reached out and shook his hand.

  With that, Percy started for the door and began to close it. “Man,” he said, looking back at me one last time. “I don't know how you can possibly wear that big, bulky sweatshirt on a day like today. I'd be melting!”

  “Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking!” I said, chuckling.

  “See you tomorrow, Lucy.”

  No, I thought. You'll be seeing me much sooner than that.

  The door closed. Soon thereafter, the lock was engaged.

  I took a deep breath and enjoyed the silence of the isolation chamber for a time, trying to decide just how long I should wait before busting out.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Once, when I was a kid, I watched this awesome TV show. There was this mysterious magician, and he spent time revealing the secrets to all of the biggest tricks in contemporary magic. Maybe I was just a nerdy kid, but I always loved that shit.

  Never let it be said that all of that time spent in front of the TV was useless, either.

  For today's trick, I employed something brutally simple. Percy had locked the shackles around my wrists, but I'd come in wearing something special. See, before leaving the house, I'd thrown on several sets of knitted wristbands and a baggy sweatshirt. It was definitely too damn hot out to dress this way, but thankfully, Kubo hadn't batted an eye at my choice of outfit.

  Pulling out of the enchanted manacles was as easy as slipping off the sleeves of the sweatshirt and the wristbands beneath. By artificially widening my wrists, I'd given myself just enough space to bring my actual wrists through the metal loops, once they were free of the cloth trappings.

  The chains hit the floor and I paced about the center of the room, a free man.

  And, you know, I may have uttered “Presto-Change-o” in a dramatic tone of voice for my own amusement.

  I felt pretty devious, busting out of my cuffs in this fashion. I hadn't had to rely on flashy magic or brute force for once. Nope, I'd found a way out using a trick I'd learned as a twelve year old.

  Still, I wasn't completely out of the woods. There was the matter of the thick, metal door yet ahead of me, and by the looks of it, this was the mother of all doors. Maybe, if I'd had access to my demonic powers in this room I could have slowly punched my way through it. But with all of these magical seals at work, I was rendered an ordinary human.

  I'd have to find some other way out.

  I was about to walk over and inspect the locking mechanism on the door when I heard something drop onto the stone floor from up above. Then came the low chuckle. “Not bad, kid. Not bad.” The new presence in the room spoke in a thick Jersey accent.

  “Fuck...” I turned to find Germaine dashing across the floor towards me. “They posted you in here to watch over me?”

  “Damn straight they did!” replied the spider, stopping before my feet and looking up at me. “Kubo wanted me to alert the staff if you tried to escape. Been perched on the ceiling up there this entire time. You didn't even know I was there, did ya?”

  I scoffed. “Sure didn't. But it would be a shame if something happened to you in this room, huh? Like, what if you had an accident and I just randomly stepped on you? Wouldn't that be a tragic way to go? And all because you insisted on standing in my way.”

  A spider's eyes are incapable of rolling, but I got the distinct impression that Germaine intended just that gesture. “Yeah, OK, tough guy. But you've got me all wrong. See, I'm on your side in all of this. I agree with you-- the Veiled Order's plan stinks. They're waiting till they've got their media blackout in place to wage an attack, but they're playing a dangerous game. Wasting precious time. The necromancer's all set to ruin this city and they're just giving him more time to arrange his pieces on the board. Well, you know how many frigging pieces he's got? Thousands of 'em, kid. That angel sword won't be worth squat if we don't get in there and kill him quick. Daylight's burning, and daylight's the best time to handle this.”

  The furry little bastard was winning me over. “It looks like it's just a boy and his spider against the whole world then, eh?”

  Germaine laughed. “You could say that.”

  I turned to the door. “That door's going to be a problem, though. I can't break through it. I'm just a normal human being now, with all of these seals in place. The demon in me is being subdued. If I could destroy the carvings I'd get my demon strength back. But... I use this room during every new moon. I probably shouldn't wreck it. Just getting through the door in some way is my focus.”

  “Say no more,” offered Germaine, walking up to the door and scaling it. The locking mechanism was large, like what you might find on a jail cell, except it'd been reinforced enough to keep a full-grown gorilla at bay. There was a keyhole, and inside that keyhole was a latching mechanism. My fingers were too big to fit in there, and even if I'd thought to bring a hairpin or something, I'm not nearly experienced enough in lock-picking to figure out a lock like that one.

  Germaine, though, had a couple of advantages.

  Stuffing a few spidery limbs into the keyhole, he grunted and fussed with the mechanism until there was a loud “pop”. I could hardly believe my ears. “Did you really just unlock that door?”

  Germaine landed upon the floor and breathed a great sigh. “Sure did. Not too many things have gotten easier for me since becoming a spider, but lock-picking is no trouble at all for me these days.” He held up his forelimbs for my inspection. “The instruments I've got to work with now are far more delicate than any pick you could ask for.”

  I could have hugged that freaking spider.

  But I didn't. Let's face it: That would be disgusting.

  I gave him a bob of my head, though, and tested the door. Sure enough, it was open. Closing it back up, I paced around the isolation room, grinning from ear to ear.

  “You want to leave now, kid?” asked Germaine, hopping up onto my shoulder.

  “No, not yet.” Time was of the essence, but if I was too conspicuous in my escape, I risked being found out by Kubo or the others. Waiting a little while, giving them time to leave the building or get caught up in meetings, would be wiser. I'd bide my time and flee the b
uilding when the moment was right.

  And when I left, the RenCen would be my first stop.

  “We're gonna wait until Kubo and the others are busy,” I said. “Better yet... I might be able to blend in with the crowd.” Another idea was forming in my mind. “Germaine, I need you to leave the room for a minute. Can you crawl around out there and find out where the Veiled Order commandos keep their gear? If I can suit up like the rest of those guys, I can ride along with them straight to the RenCen without Kubo knowing.”

  Germaine agreed. “Leave it to me. Crack the door and I'll find out where they keep the goods.”

  I eased the door open a little, giving Germaine just enough room to escape, and then shut it. “Just make sure Kubo doesn't find you,” I warned.

  From the outside of the door, I heard his grating whisper in reply. “Thing about Germaine Fox, kid, is that he's real discrete. They don't know Germaine's in the house until it's too late.”

  The spider wandered off and I sat down on the floor, awaiting his return.

  ***

  I didn't have to wait long.

  Germaine came up to the door and whispered to me about twenty minutes later. “Searched the whole basement and found a room full of that black tactical shit you want,” he said. “I can lead you straight to it.”

  Seeing as how I couldn't feasibly have a spider drag an entire suit of Kevlar body armor to the isolation room, the only option was for me to follow him. “Is there anyone out there right now? If someone sees me exiting the room, I'm toast. They'll sound the alarm.”

  “Nah, coast is clear,” came the reply. “But you'd better hurry up.”

  I cast off my sweatshirt entirely and stepped out into the hall, easing the door shut behind me. I glanced up and down the hallway, finding it empty. Overhead I could hear quite the commotion, however there didn't appear to be a whole lot going on at this level of the complex. Perfect.

  Germaine broke into as fast a sprint as his small limbs would allow and I followed, doing my best to stay quiet. All it would take would be a single commando wandering down to make his rounds, or the Chief deciding to check up on me, and it would all be over. I could still break out of this joint, even if I was discovered, but I'd catch a lot more hell for it. Doing it my way, subtly, was a much better idea.

  At the far end of the hall, on the polar opposite side of the basement level, we entered what looked like a locker room. White tile adorned the walls and floor, and several sets of black Kevlar armor were found sitting within cubbies. When I was certain that there was no one inside the locker room, I started rifling through each set of armor, seeking one that might fit. I'd never worn this kind of thing before, wasn't even sure how to put it on. I picked up one set and it fell to pieces. I'd been expecting something like a wetsuit, but there were separate parts; some that covered the legs, one for the chest and shoulders, pieces for the arms. “How the hell am I supposed to find my size?” I asked.

  Germaine ducked in and out of the cubby openings, knocking body armor onto the floor and then searching for tags. “What size T-shirt do you wear? Maybe it fits the same way?”

  I frowned. “This ain't a fucking Gap dressing room, man. It's possible this stuff is just one-size fits all. Or... I dunno. Maybe there's a big size and a bigger size.” I picked up a chest piece that looked a little too big for me and pulled it on over my head. The material was thick and heavy, and it certainly felt capable of stopping a bullet. “This'll do. It's a little big, but it gives me some breathing room.” I sought out the other pieces of the outfit and awkwardly put them on. A few minutes later I put on the black helmet and respirator and looked something like Darth Vader.

  “The helmet is overkill,” offered Germaine.

  “Yeah, but if I walk out there without it they're all gonna know it's me, you dumbass.” The respirator portion of the helmet blocked my eyes, giving me only two narrow lenses through which I could see my surroundings. Never mind peripheral vision; the mask didn't allow the least bit of that. I felt seriously stifled in the helmet, but knew I could take it off once I got to the RenCen. I just had to keep it on while I was hanging out around HQ. The inside of the helmet smelled vaguely like some other guy's sweat, but I did my best to ignore that.

  “What now?” asked Germaine.

  “I guess I should go find out where the other commandos are at.” I pulled the chest piece to the side. “Climb on,” I said. “You can come along.”

  Germaine feigned tearfulness. “You want to bring along lil ol' me? I'm flattered, Lucy. That's the kindest thing you've ever said to me.”

  “Climb on before I change my damn mind. And shut the hell up; if someone hears you talking out there we're going to be screwed.” Germaine nestled up to my chest and held onto the inside of the body armor.

  Exiting the locker room, I found the stairwell and trudged to the first floor. I've read, again and again, that the best way to blend in someplace where you don't belong is to act like you're supposed to be there. Walk around with purpose, act natural. Stuff like that.

  So, that's what I did. I walked right across the lobby, past the front desk and the attendant, and straight out the door.

  The temperature had gone up since I'd last been outside, and from the moment I stepped outdoors, I knew this body armor wasn't going to work out. I felt like I was being slowly baked. The black material drew the sun like asphalt, and I wasn't even half-way across the parking lot when the lenses in the helmet started fogging up.

  “Jesus Christ, can we take off the armor?” asked Germaine, panting. “You're cooking me in here.”

  “Shut up,” I muttered, face dripping in sweat. “We have to keep this on till we get to the RenCen.”

  From behind me, I heard a shout. “You there!”

  I turned stiffly, trying to see through the cloudy lenses of the helmet. Around the corner, near a fleet of idling SUVs, was a commando. He was wearing the black armor like I was, but he'd skipped the helmet. I waved to him and started ambling his way.

  “We're shipping out. Hurry your ass up,” said the commando, nodding to the vehicles at his back. “And you don't have to wear the helmet, you know. It's too damn hot for that shit.”

  I cleared my throat. I'd have liked nothing more than to take the thing off, but I couldn't let this jackass see my face. If he knew it was the Demon-Heart under here he'd flip his shit, go running for Kubo. What I needed was an excuse. “Hey, say what you will,” I began, dropping my voice an octave to try and sound older, “but I feel safer with it on. You're all gonna wish you suited up when we're in the shit. Plus, this way, I don't smell those rotting bastards quite so much.”

  The commando ahead of me opened the side door of an SUV and waved me inside, chuckling. “I guess I never thought of it that way. Get in.”

  I sat down in the SUV, selecting a seat in the back row. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I just wanted to be the quiet guy in the back, with the steamy helmet on. A couple of others piled into the vehicle after me, till every seat was filled. To be honest, I couldn't really see them. The lenses in my helmet were too damn foggy at this point to make out much of anything.

  I heard the doors close and the SUV start. Then the driver addressed us. “Bit of a change in plans. We're heading straight for the RenCen. We've blocked all of the news outlets from the area and we're going to try and get the jump on the necromancer. A strike team will be going in discretely.”

  I'd made it just in time! If I'd hesitated in the isolation room any longer, I might've missed out on my chance to participate in the battle. What we were setting out to do now was leagues better than the original plan. If we took out Agamemnon now, before nightfall, maybe we'd avoid a war.

  Something was bothering me, though. The voice of the driver was awfully goddamn familiar. I couldn't tell if it was just the bulky helmet playing tricks on me or if that was Chief Kubo talking from the driver's seat.

  I stuck a finger up past the edge of the hel
met and scrubbed away the film of condensation on my lenses.

  Yup.

  It was Kubo all right.

  My body tensed so hard I nearly turned Germaine into spider jelly. Of all the frigging vehicles I could have hitched a ride in...

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Don't blow this. Don't blow this. Act cool.

  Sitting in the back of this SUV while Kubo briefed the troops was pretty surreal. I could barely see the guy, but I suspected he was staring at me in the rearview mirror. Nothing I'd done so far could have possibly tipped him off about my identity... but I was convinced the bastard knew it was me somehow.

  I sat upright and just listened to him rattle off the plan of action, his words echoing slightly within my helmet.

  “We've succeeded in evacuating the surrounding area. Several blocks have been shut down and the residents are slowly being relocated. As a result, we're going to head in. We're going to meet a lot of resistance in there. Due to the possibility that the hostages are still alive we can't simply blow the thing up. That'd be terrible PR.”

  There was some laughter in the vehicle at that part. I laughed too, just to play along.

  Kubo continued. “We suspect that the necromancer is inside. All of you will be following Kanta, Percy and Joe. We've located a subterranean entrance to the building, through the sewer system. Once inside, you will support them as they fight their way through. We want to know what we're up against. If the necromancer is encountered, all the better. Secure any hostages and lead them to safety if possible. Kanta will be leading the strike, as she's armed with the Archangel Saber. She just needs to hack apart Agamemnon and we can all go home. Got it?”

  A few “yessir's” were heard.

  I don't know how long I sat in that SUV, sweating my ass off. The other troopers made light conversation. Some of the guys talked about “the game last night”, others mentioned what they planned to do after they were done with this job. I just sat there quietly. Better to play the stoic type than to risk being found out, I figured.