Echoes of the Past (Demon Squad)

by Tim Marquitz

  Without any thought to what might happen, I braced myself against the edge and reached for him.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Frank.” The quiet voice stopped me before I hit the surface of the tank. The calm words carried weight. I looked to see Baalth walking toward me. He looked haggard, not at all like the last time I’d seen him. “Step away from Henry, and whatever you do, don’t touch the liquid.”

  I stood there defiant, my hands dangling over the edge.

  “It’s for you own safety, Frank. If another living being were to come in contact with the solution, all of the power collected inside its atoms would be released into the unfortunate thing that touched it. It would be like having a thousand nuclear bombs going off inside your chest. Messy, and quite fatal. So, unless your last wish is for me to scoop up your remains and return them to Longinus’ daughter in a Ziploc, I suggest you take my advice.”

  I glanced down at McConnell and mouthed an apology, pulling my arms away from the tank with exaggerated caution. Baalth might not be telling me the truth, but I damn well didn’t want to test him on it. I stayed quiet until I was down the stairs, leaving The Gray behind.

  “What the hell are you doing to him?”

  “What must be done,” Baalth answered, coming over to me. His eyes narrowed. “How did you find your way down here?”

  Not wanting to get Poe in trouble, I lied. “I was searching for more information about my mother and Lucifer and stumbled across your little hidey-hole.”

  He didn’t look like he believed me, but he also didn’t bother to argue. For once, he didn’t look like he had it in him. “I think you should leave, Frank.” The room trembled slightly. It was a reminder of just how fragile Baalth’s control of his newfound power was.

  “Why? What are you doing here?”

  Baalth glared at me. “You’ve never wanted anything to do with the politics of Hell before, so why are you so interested now?”

  He was right. I’d only cared when it affected me. Despite all that was going on, I wasn’t sure this particular problem had anything to do with my life, but that felt like a cop out. I couldn’t be quiet and let him torture McConnell after what the old bastard had done for the world.

  “I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid shit like this, but it’s never done me the same courtesy. It’s damn clear I’m never gonna be free of the Demonarch and its bullshit politics because I’m related to fucking Lucifer!” I could feel my cheeks starting to heat up. “With everything going on from aliens to weres to vamps to the damn government, I think it’s time I paid a little more attention to Hell’s politics, especially, since I’m always in the middle of them.”

  Unexpectedly, Baalth smiled. “Lucifer would be proud.”

  “Fuck him,” I answered. “He’s the reason I’m in the middle of all this.”

  Baalth’s smile widened. “Lucifer would pat you on the back for your rebellious stand, Frank, right before he knocked you through the wall for daring to blaspheme him.” He chuckled, holding his side.

  I grinned in response, thinking he was right on the money. There’d been more than a few lessons I had to learn the hard way.

  “So, Frank, do you truly want to know what I’m doing?” He waved his arms to the room.

  The old Frank yelled at me to scream and run away. Nothing good could come from digging into Baalth’s business. “Yes. Tell me.” Apparently the new Frank liked taking it up the ass, which is all that ever happened when I got involved in Demonarch politics.

  Baalth nodded and pointed up at the orb. “Like you, I have also spoken to Lucifer since his departure.”

  That caught me off guard, but it made a twisted sense. Baalth had disappeared during the Heaven fiasco. Just like Hasstor had used the storms to cover his arrival near Earth, it was reasonable to assume Baalth could have done the same to leave the dimension and seek out Lucifer. Not only did that mean he knew what was going on in Heaven and didn’t care, but it also meant he’d probably always known where my uncle was. It was just another kick in the ass to my presumed importance. Lovely.

  Baalth waited a moment, as if letting me work it all out, before he continued. “Hasstor told you about the war?”

  I nodded, but kept the part about the tome to myself. If Baalth didn’t know about it, it wouldn’t matter. If he did, he would understand why I kept it from him. If it was important to his plans, he’d bring it up.

  “It would seem God’s other creations have been busy in His absence. They have grown and evolved far beyond what He believed they would. Worse still, they have become defiant, believing themselves masters rather than servants.”

  A theme that is apparently rampant in every world. I bit my tongue to keep from illuminating the hypocrisy he’d so poetically stated.

  “A number of universes have banded together and set out to conquer the rest, and ultimately, God himself.” He grinned at their audacity. “The most frightening aspect is that they may well succeed in their quest.”

  “Is it possible?” Hearing it put so plainly scared me.

  He nodded. “For all that He is capable of, God has spread his energy over His immeasurable lifespan, crafting universes again and again and again, expending the effort to maintain them. It’s quite an impressive feat. However, while still a power far beyond anything you or I could imagine, He has perhaps spread Himself too thin. Not content to create beings as simple as humans, God has crafted beings far closer to His image than any of us could hope to be. Given free will and the ability to evolve as a species, these creations have come unto their own as deities. This is what your uncle fights against.”

  And here I was thinking I had it bad.

  Baalth pointed to McConnell. “Though I am loath to torment such a faithful servant as Henry, the price of his resurrection was to sacrifice himself to the cause of defeating the enemies of God before they fall upon us and lay waste to our universe.”

  That’s one hell of a trade. I felt sorry for McConnell, but maybe it was fate’s way of paying him back for all the wrong he’d done in his life; and then some. He was probably building up some serious supernatural karma, not that he’d ever get to spend it. “So, what does all this stuff do?” I gestured to the room and McConnell’s tank.

  “It’s a portal to the universe where Lucifer now resides.”

  I heard the words but they didn’t make sense. “It’s a what?”

  “A dimensional rift, which leads directly to your uncle.” He ran his hand along the side of the tank. “It is kept available and shielded from detection by The Gray’s reserve energy. He is, in essence, the key to the portal. Henry holds it in stasis so its energy remains constant and off the radar of those who might be searching for such things, like your companions in DRAC.”

  I didn’t bother to tell him I was on indefinite vacation and I didn’t know shit about what they were tracking. “So, it can’t be detected?”

  “Only from within this room. I’m sure you felt its power when you walked inside.”

  I nodded, but I still didn’t understand the purpose of a portal going to Lucifer when the bad guys were there waiting to come to Earth. “What’s the point of keeping it open? Aren’t you worried the aliens will use it to come here?”

  “Not at all, as it isn’t actually open, just available should it be needed. The portal is connected to Lucifer and is carried on him at all times. It’s attenuated to allow no one else to use it. Were he to die, the portal link would shut down.”

  I still didn’t understand. “Then why have it at all?”

  “Because Asmoday had no idea what he was unleashing when he empowered Glorius.” Baalth clenched his fist and his power welled up. He stretched his arm toward the tank and let loose a burst of power that damn near singed the hair on my balls. The power swirled into the tank and disappeared. McConnell thrashed and I was glad I couldn’t see more than just his shadow reflected against the sides. After a moment, Baalth willed his power to settle and turned back to me. The Gray slowly settled. Wh
ile Baalth didn’t look fresh, he looked like he’d taken a load off. “The soul transfer with Glorius not only gave me his powers, magnified beyond imagining, but it also passed along the mutated piece of his angelic existence, which absorbed all the power Asmoday fed him.”

  Baalth strode slowly down the line of bodies set into the walls. I followed alongside, staring up at the people. I suddenly felt ill again.

  Baalth turned his head to look at me, as though he could tell what I was feeling. “Do not worry your human sensibilities about them, Frank. They were dead before I brought them here. It is only the surge of magical energy through their bodies that gives them the semblance of life.”

  That was something, at least. I nodded and asked him to continue telling me about Glorius.

  He did. “Thanks to God’s plan that his Angelic Choir forever be empowered to defeat those who challenged him—little did we know why we would need such abilities—angels evolve as they absorb power through a soul transfer. The new energy level becomes the base level, their bodies adapting to maintain the balance. We demons had such useful talents removed from us at the Fall.” He chuckled to himself. “When I inherited Glorius’ power, increased beyond even what he could naturally handle, I also inherited the strange adaptation, but not in the way I would have preferred. Quite the opposite, in fact. Asmoday’s meddling had broken Glorius, forcing an even greater evolution upon the angel. So, rather than gaining the ability to normalize my power no matter its level, my magic constantly multiplies and grows, but I have no way to keep it contained.”

  “So, sending the power into the tub helps relieve the pressure?”

  “It also provides a pool of accessible energy to be used by God and Lucifer, which cannot be detected. The impact on the war effort is quite impressive. It allows them to open the portal from their end and draw upon a reserve of magic while their enemies weaken over the course of battles. It also serves as a bit of surprise boost when necessary, allowing them to catch their foes off guard.”

  I pulled my gaze from Baalth and set it on the orb. My mind instantly started to wonder what answers I could get if I confronted Lucifer directly. “Could I use the portal to travel to my uncle?”

  Baalth quickly waggled a finger. “You could, but you would not survive the trip. The gate is not intended for travel, only the transportation of energy. You would be broken down into your base components to become a part of the power flow.”

  I felt a sudden headache coming on, my face flushing. So close to the truth and yet still so far. I growled and looked toward the door, suddenly wanting nothing more to do with Baalth or the politics of Hell. “I’m going home.” I waved and walked off.

  Before I could get out of the room, Baalth called to me. “Lucifer asked about you.”

  I didn’t believe him; wasn’t even sure I cared, but the words stopped me. I didn’t turn around, though, out of spite. I stood, staring at the door. “Then why didn’t he have Hasstor pass a message on?”

  “For all the necessity of utilizing demons such as Hasstor, Lucifer does not trust them. He would not give them such a message for fear it be seen as weakness. Lucifer cares for you greatly, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.”

  A sharp pain spiked behind my eyes, my stomach churning. I spun to glare at Baalth. “If he loved me so much, then why did he leave me behind? Why did he keep Arol’s power for himself when he sent me off to be his errand boy murderer?”

  “Because you weren’t ready for it, Frank. It’s that simple.” Baalth sighed. “Lucifer hoped you would stand at his side and rule Hell in his stead, but you want nothing to do with it. You never did. Had he allowed you Arol’s power, you would have been seen as a threat to the Demonarch. You would have gotten yourself killed by those who opposed you taking power.”

  “So, he did it all for me, huh?”

  “He did, though I know you’ll never believe it to be true.” He shook his head, frustration plain on his face.

  I felt a twinge of doubt, which was washed away by a bout of lightheadedness. “And now?”

  “Things have changed, Frank, but Lucifer still hopes for the same.”

  I stared at the demon, trying to pierce the shadows of his dark eyes, but there was nothing there that told me whether he was being honest or plying me with emotional bullshit meant to pacify me. I didn’t know what to believe, but I didn’t want to hear any more of it.

  Not feeling well, I left the room and made my way through the labyrinth of tunnels, which led back to the portal in Lucifer’s chambers, grateful the secret passage was only hidden from the outside. I’d been fed so much shit my eyes were turning brown, and I was sick of it. I hadn’t gotten any real answers since I started searching for the truth about my mother, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t gonna. There wasn’t much point in asking any more.

  I sucked in a lungful of warm air as I triggered the portal for Earth. My life had been a series of lies piled upon lies, but at least I had one person I could talk to who never once offered me anything but the truth, no matter how much it hurt to hear it. It was time to go see him.

  He certainly wouldn’t start lying to me now.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was late afternoon when I arrived at Rest Land Cemetery. The sun was still hidden behind the thick storm clouds that drizzled over top of me as I made my way through the park. Despite the massive deaths caused by the Tree of Life’s temper tantrum, and all the new burials following it, the cemetery was empty of the living. That was good. I needed some peace.

  Massive piles of dirt encircled the cemetery property, forming a makeshift wall where the stone one had been erased. I could see from one end of the graveyard to the other, nothing but freshly placed flowers and steel poles set into the ground to mark the edges of the gardens. It was a somber sight.

  I made my way over the wet dirt and trailed muddy footprints across the garden, stopping far enough off to make sure Rachelle wasn’t there. Once I was sure she wasn’t, I went to Abraham’s grave and dropped down on the fresh sod, which had been laid to replace the topsoil eaten away during the storms. It was soft. The smell of wet grass filled my nose. The temporary grave marker stood out dark against the brightness of the sod. It was hard to believe Abe had only been gone a few days. It seemed forever.

  I ran my hand across the plastic, temporary plate, wiping away the condensation, so I could see Abe’s name. A weight seemed to settle over me as I read it, as though his loss had just found the time to sink in.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the ground. Reality told me there was nothing I could have done to save him from Azrael, but it didn’t stop me from feeling guilty. I could have tried harder, I could have…

  I let the thought go. Azrael killed Abe. While I couldn’t protect him, I had at least avenged him. Abe could take comfort in the fact that Azrael joined him in the nothingness left behind by God’s departure.

  I rubbed my eyes and let out a hoarse chuckle. Who am I kidding? As much a realist as Abe was, he wouldn’t have been happy with me murdering Azrael, especially not in his name, but the deed had already been done. Sadly, Azrael hadn’t been held accountable for his actions. I hadn’t avenged Abe. I’d only helped his killer escape an eternal lifetime of torment. He wouldn’t have to live on and slowly go insane in the misty confines of Limbo. In my anger, I’d given the angel exactly what he wanted: freedom.

  That was all I could take. Frustration overran me and I crumpled to the wet ground. I’d let Abe down, and I’d let Rachelle down; I’d let them all down, and betrayed Scarlett’s faith on top of it all. Baalth had been right. I wasn’t ready; not for anything. There wasn’t any point in pretending I could live up to my uncle’s ideals, or more importantly, to those of Abraham. Once more I was in over my head and there wouldn’t be any getting out it this time. I wasn’t just waving, I was drowning.

  I couldn’t even unravel my past, let alone figure out how to prepare for the end of a thousand galaxies. Defeated, I lay there with my head cradl
ed in my hands, letting the rain wash over me.

  Move!

  Just like it had when Poe snuck up on me in Hell, a flicker of instinct warned me of something headed my way. It had been right then, so I trusted it and rolled away without hesitation. A muffled thump sounded right where my head had been. A puff of grass exploded at Abe’s grave.

  I was on my feet and running before the grass fluttered to the ground. It was obvious the DSI had found me again. I could picture Captain Johnson’s face screwed up in an angry snarl and bitching that he missed. He probably wouldn’t the second time. The storms had screwed me by wiping out all the trees and standing headstones I might have used for cover. Now, there was nothing but an open field and a shitload of clear space between me and a bullet in the back.

  Then I remembered I had magic.

  I willed a shield behind me just as Johnson picked his spot. A bullet slammed into the glistening wall and was reflected away, a wisp of energy marking the spot on my shield that had been hit.

  “The head again?” This guy was starting to piss me off. He was good.

  My brain kicked in, motivated by the thought of having a fist-sized hole punched in it—again—so I manipulated my shield to cover more of my body and started veering off in random directions. If there was more than just one sniper out there, I didn’t want to make it easy for them to take me out. They could be leading me deeper into the trap.

  I kept running, aiming for the housing area, which had escaped the storm that devastated the cemetery. It didn’t make much sense that the DSI had just stumbled across me at Abe’s grave, so they’d likely staked the place out. I’d probably caught them asleep at the wheel. They must have had agents in place, but not any kind of air support or they would have taken me out as soon as I arrived. Given that they’d only just received their funding and marching orders, I figured they were short on troops, which could only play to my advantage. They’d no doubt recruit local law enforcement to help hunt me down, but those guys would be way more hesitant to shoot first and ask questions later. They didn’t have the same kind of immunity the feds had. If I could make it to the houses, I could get away.