Flesh and Blood: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Half-Demon Warlock Book 2)

by J. A. Cipriano

  My eyes widened. Not only did she know exactly what I had done, but she knew exactly what I was. So why wasn’t she more afraid? I was a half demon, for God’s sake. I could have stuck my hand on her chest and hollowed out her internal energy like a kid slurping down a big gulp Mountain Dew. It would have probably been just as delicious to boot. It didn’t make any sense. She should be shaking in her designer heels, not being all smarmy with me like some Real Housewife of Beyond the Grave.

  I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. When I spoke to her, my voice came out in a much more even tone than it might have before. It was something I’d been working on.

  “I’m asking this favor because it’s serious, and because you’re the only person I know of who might be able to help with it. Like I said, there’s something going on. Fulton wasn’t the end of things. I need you to help me get in touch with a dead guy. I need to know what he did.” My jaw tightened.

  “Nothing is the end of things,” she cut me off, huffing loudly. “If I’ve learned one thing from dealing with the dead all these years, it’s that forever is a long time. No matter how many layers you peel back, there’s always another. So, would you like to know what a smart person does, Detective Morgan? They stop peeling.”

  “Says the woman who makes millions by dipping her toes into the metaphysical pool,” I countered, my voice growing sterner with each word. I wasn’t going to let her be a hypocrite about this. If one of us needed to stop digging, both of us did.

  “I tell people their grandmothers still love them, you asshole. I don’t go poking around with the Benefactor!” she yelled back, suddenly angry. She threw her hands up as if to put a stop to all of this with a single movement.

  My eyebrows shot up. “Where did you hear that name?” I asked, my heart beating faster as I inched toward her. “I never told you that name.” What did she know about the Benefactor? How far did this bastard’s reach stretch anyway?

  “You didn’t have to!” she yelled in return, her cold blue eyes narrowing at me. “That fairy bitch’s spirit passed right through me as she died. She kept begging me to help you, to come and get myself all mixed up in this nonsense.” She shook her head again, looking to be even more disgusted with that idea than she had been with the trash. “And for what? To get myself killed alongside what has to be the most misdirected ragtag team in history? No thank you!”

  “So, you knew about this?” I asked, my hand tightening on the rail as my blood pumped more fervently. “You knew we needed your help?”

  “Everyone needs everyone’s help,” she answered, speaking to me in a dismissive tone that made me feel like I was six years old in the principal’s office. “That’s the way this broken world works, but it doesn’t mean you get it just because you need it. Besides, I couldn’t get back in touch with that fairy’s spirit if I wanted to. Fairy souls go to the Otherworld. I don’t have any access to that. Same goes for Tir Na Nog and Elysium. In case you were wondering about reaching any Children of Danu or Greek deities.”

  “That’s not what I’m here for,” I answered, my jaw tightening as I read her face. She’d never had any intention of helping us. Hell, she’d never even had any intention of entertaining the idea. So why come all this way in the first place? “That’s not why you’re here either, is it?” I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at her. “Why did you really come here, Ms. Freeman?”

  “Because, Detective Morgan, if you keep asking for my help, then the people after you are going to begin looking at me as a liability. I can’t have that. I’ve become very attached to my head, and I don’t want some all-powerful badass to take it from me because they’re afraid you’re going to be able to convince me to join your little crusade. So, I came here to prove to you, once and for all, what a dangerous idea soliciting my help can be.”

  “Dangerous?” I asked, feeling my heart skip a beat and my temperature rise as I allowed my eyes to shift from green to demonic red to prove a point. The world shifted into the red tint it always did anytime I allowed my irises to betray the truth about my demon heritage. The warmth of that change passed through my eyes as well, as my resolve cemented. I was no pushover, and I didn’t take kindly to being threatened. “The way I see it, you’re the one who should feel like she’s in danger.”

  “Isn’t it convenient that we don’t see things the same way,” she answered coolly, still not afraid. “You see, my spirit friends can do more than feed me information.” A grin spread across her painted red lips. “I don’t suppose you’ve met my bodyguard.”

  Before I could respond, an unseen force knocked me backward, sending me flying over the railing.

  I landed hard on my back on the landing. Pain shot through me as the crack of my own ribs filled my ears. I felt the bones snap and blood fill my chest. I could barely breath, could barely think.

  A specter appeared above me, a blue orb that floated toward me. It took shape as it neared, turning into a tall man with glowing armor and a long sword that glistened with sapphire energy.

  “It’s so rude of me not to introduce you two,” Diane said, looking down at me from above. “I assume you’ve heard of Genghis Khan.”

  I blinked the bleariness out of my eyes and ignored the pounding in my head as I looked at the quickly approaching (and very militant looking) spirit of one of the worst mass murderers in all of human history.

  “Oh shit.”

  3

  As I lay there watching the spirit descend toward me, my head began to pound, my eyes were blurry, and my back felt like someone had broken it open and sucked out the juices. Ghosts had never been my thing. They always gave me a weird sort of ‘Scooby Doo’ esque vibe that left me feeling ridiculous for even entertaining them. Sure, they could be scary, but for the most part, ghosts were harmless echoes of a person’s life. They could even be loud if the residual energy came from something traumatic or frightening.

  Every now and then though, you hear about a real badass of a spirit, the sort of ghost that can (among other things) throw an unsuspecting demon/warlock hybrid off the fire escape of a building and send him crashing ass first to the pavement below.

  Those kinds of spirits shook the cartoon image I had of ghosts right to its core and left me with a sobering sensation… kind of like the one I was feeling right now.

  “Genghis Khan!” I muttered, looking up at the long and glowing blue beard that spilled from the spirit and hung down toward me. Terror filled my obviously broken chest as my heart pounded against the bone fragments inside of me like a jackhammer against ruined pavement. “Genghis fucking Khan!” The sword in the ghost’s left hand shimmered and crackled, as though all of the spirit’s energy was being channeled to it.

  “Speaking my name in a somber and remorseful tone will not earn you mercy!” the spirit said as a chill ran through my body. Spirits made the air colder wherever they went, and a potent spirit could make the atmosphere downright arctic.

  “Yeah.” I tried to muster up enough energy to move. “Given your reputation, that doesn’t surprise me.”

  Genghis Khan was a monster when he was alive. He’d murdered hundreds of people and raped countless women. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me to find his ghost was still hanging around, itching to cause even more trouble from the hereafter.

  Still, the idea that a tyrant who razed entire civilizations to the ground would end up as the non-corporeal bitch boy of a two-bit realty television psychic with big tits and a bad attitude was all the proof I needed that life wasn’t fair, afterlife anyway.

  “You reek of distorted power,” Khan told me, his own power popping off him like lit cherry bombs. “You are fractured reflection of the things that created you; half monster, half savior. Neither half will matter when my blade pierces you.”

  “Mighty fine English for a dead Mongolian,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady to distract him from the fact I was—at this moment- siphoning the ambient energy literally bursting from his person.

  If I c
ould grab enough of it, I might be able to re-purpose it to heal myself and dispel him into the hellish nether region where assholes like him almost exclusively end up. Let’s see how the megalomaniac likes it down in the darkness and the heat.

  “I had to teach him. You can’t imagine how inconvenient it is to have to translate for the dead. It’s a real buzzkill,” Diane Freeman said, looking down at me. Her painted lips spread into a smile gleeful enough to let me know her interest in death probably went further than just connecting with those who have passed over. This chick got off on death, and that made her both disgusting and dangerous. I watched her, watched the lines on her face contract as she got more and more into this.

  Another spark of Khan’s energy moved through me and it was enough to begin the healing process. I had broken at least one rib in the fall, and unless I was mistaken, I had broken my back too. Lord knew it hurt enough for that to have been the case. Still, as the energy sparked through me, bopping from one fracture to the next, I began to feel the first inklings of relief.

  Inklings weren’t going to cut it though. I was going to have to work quicker. As it was, I wasn’t able to move an inch, let alone quickly or far enough to escape the glowing blade this douchebag seemed so proud of.

  I wasn’t quite sure what it was going to do when it pierced me. Spiritual weapons usually had little to no effect on the physical body. That didn’t mean he couldn’t trap my mind in some kind of pain spiral or toss my worst nightmare at me and make me believe it was the truth.

  Trust me, being convinced I was trapped in an ever-shrinking box full of clowns was the last thing I needed.

  So, I took a gamble. If I made an overt attempt to pull the energy away from Khan, he’d definitely be made aware of it and he’d seal himself off as fast and effectively as he could. Then again, he might just say fuck it and kill me where I lay. If I managed to pull it off quickly enough, it would give me enough power to heal myself and actually have a fighting chance against this bastard.

  I threw my hands forward and made my play. He mustn’t have had a lot of experience with warlocks in the past though because dude was a little slow on the reaction time. By the time he knew what was going on, I had relieved him of about half the energy in his floating, glowing body.

  The power poured into me like healing waters. It dampened my pain and stitched together my wounds.

  Khan reared back, swinging his spirit sword toward me, but I was already jumping into action. My body screamed in agony as I lunged to the right. The spirit sword missed me by scant inches and passed harmlessly through the very physical stone of the parking lot beside me. I could move again. Now my only problem was taking out one of the most formidable warlords in all of human history.

  So, you know, no biggie.

  Getting to my feet, I used some of the excess energy I’d pulled from him to create a psionic shield, which in layman’s terms was basically concentrated high level noise energy. Sure, a shield made of sound wouldn’t hurt Khan, but it would keep him away long enough for me to bring the pain.

  “You dare to stand against the Khan himself?!” Khan asked, his face twisting into a scowl so ridiculously overdone, it would have been hilarious if I hadn’t known how many people had been slaughtered after seeing it. “You dare to assume yourself worthy of battle with the likes of me?!”

  “I do. I do dare,” I answered, yelling through the energy which only emitted a low-level purr from the inside. “And do you know why I dare, you washed up Casper wannabe?”

  His eyes narrowed, obviously not understanding the Casper reference. But still perceived it to be an insult as intended, because he drove his sword into my shudder shield. The sounds pierced through it. Shrieks poured directly into the sword, shattering it into a thousand glowing blue pieces of energy. Quickly. I threw my hands out and hungrily scooped it up. I had been right before. Most of this ghoul’s energy was passing through this sword and now that I had it running through me, I no longer needed the shield to protect me.

  Bringing my hands toward the ground palms down, I lowered the shield. My body pulsated with power, the blue energy of the sword transforming into red as I brought it to bear.

  “You used to be a force to be reckoned with,” I said, my voice so layered with power it came out deeper, more intense. “And now look at you. You’re better than this. You’re better than her.”

  My glowing red eyes, traveled up to Diane Freeman. Her face twisted downward, worry lines popping up around her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, what?” she asked, scurrying down the fire escape to reach us. “What’s the conversation down there?”

  “She doesn’t appreciate you, Khan. How could she? She never saw the kind of person you were, the kind of terror you were capable of producing.” My voice ticked up at the end, taking on an accusatory tone which was obviously directed at the medium in question.

  My words seemed to hit just the right spot, and why wouldn’t they? I had known more than a few powerful people in my life and, if I’d learned anything from them, it was that they never get tired of being told how powerful they were.

  “And look at you now. You’re still powerful enough to push my ass off a balcony. That’s no easy task.” I patted my admittedly pretty flat stomach. “Considering all the holiday weight I’m still carrying.”

  “You shut your lying mouth!” Diane yelled. “I’m the only person who can express what he needs to say. I’m his only link to this world! He knows that!”

  “And listen to her,” I said, leaning closer to the spirit of Khan and laying a bit of faux sympathy into my tone. “You see what she thinks of you? She thinks you’re less than a man. She thinks you need her. I didn’t think the great Genghis Khan needed anyone. I thought nations trembled when they heard your horses approaching. Now some spoiled woman in a tacky dress thinks she owns you.” I snorted.

  A low growl escaped Khan’s mouth. His ghostly eyes flashed with anger and I knew I had him.

  “I never claimed ownership of anyone—”

  “Silence!” Khan roared, twirling around at her.

  “Should I give you back your energy, my man?” I asked, inching closer to him. “Should I let you bring back that sparkly sword of yours? I wonder what it does.”

  “It traps the victim’s imagination in a world built upon their worst fears,” he answered.

  Ah, shrinking clown box. I was right.

  “No!” Diane Freeman said, throwing her hands out in front of me. “No!” Her eyes met mine again, this time softer, this time more than willing to accommodate my needs. “Fine,” she muttered through a clenched jaw. “I’ll do what you want. Just take care of this.”

  “No one can take care of me!” Khan yelled and the force of it was so great the windows shattered in the lobby. “I am the great Khan. I am the destroyer of cities. I am the nightmare of the just. I am-”

  “Loud, buddy,” I interrupted him. “You’re loud and, though I appreciate you being so cool about letting me open your eyes about Diane, but you’re still a pretty awful person. So, I’m not going to feel too bad about what I’m about to do.”

  I twisted my hands and threw some of excess energy at him. His spirit twisted in pain, the bright blue energy dimming until it was almost invisible. He screamed. A shimmer, bright and swirling ran through his spirit form. It seemed to tear at him, ripping him into shreds of himself until those shreds were so small that they disappeared altogether.

  “Where did you send him?” Diane asked after he was gone.

  “Wherever he was supposed to go,” I answered. “I figured you’d know the answer to that better than me.”

  “It’s a crapshoot,” she said, running her palms down the front of her dress and glowering at me. “Depends on what they believed when they were alive and whether or not their souls had been promised to anyone.” She shook her head at me. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a speaking engagement to get to.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I exclaimed. She wasn
’t serious. This bitch didn’t think she was just going to saunter out of here without helping, did she? “You promised to-”

  “I promise a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I follow through,” she chuckled. “It’s your own fault, really. You should know better than to provide services before you get payment especially without a backup plan.”

  The sound of a pistol cocking from behind her startled the bejesus out of Diane Freeman. She turned around to see Renee standing there, brown curls cascading gloriously down her back. The Dickson 6RD in her hands was pointed at Diane’s overexposed mug.

  “You were saying about backup plans,” I muttered and I couldn’t keep the laughter out of my voice.

  “No,” Renee said, her arms unwavering. “I don’t need to hear her say anything else until we get her inside.” She glared at Diane. “You’re about to help me talk to my brother.”

  4

  “This is a mistake,” Diane Freeman said as Renee pushed her through the doorway of the hotel room I’d rented earlier in the morning. When I’d taken the key to room 319 from a perky redhead named Alyssa, my plan was to get Diane to do her reading, get the information we needed from her, and send her on her way.

  I certainly hadn’t expected my girlfriend to guide her toward the king size bed in the center of the room with a gun hidden beneath her jacket. That was for protection—n case something went wrong, I wanted Renee to be able to protect herself. I was supposed to be the strong arm, to get what we needed out of Diane regardless of the cost. Life’s like that though. It twists and turns itself until you can’t recognize where you are or who you are. That’s how mine is, anyway.