Catching Hell

by D. B. Sieders

  “I don’t know,” Lacey said, cocking her head to the side and squinting. Apparently, she was racking her brain too. She’d likely reached the same conclusions but had thought better of voicing them. “It’s just weird you get attacked by a messenger demon right before your ex shows up out of the blue, gets assigned to the case, and then his first suspect ends up dead.”

  I started pacing. I hoped I wasn’t getting any “samples” on my boots. Probably a bad idea since I could also be leaving all kinds of forensic evidence behind at a crime scene, like footprints. But the twins would fix that. They’d erase any evidence of our presence from the lab reports by hacking into the Metro and TBI crime lab computers.

  Handy little demons.

  Lacey could be on to something, but clearly my judgment was clouded by a very personal relationship with my ex.

  “But why?” I said again, frustrated and a little heartbroken. I didn’t want to think D would ever turn on me—according to his story, he hadn’t abandoned me all those years ago. He’d been taken. But I still didn’t know how he’d escaped.

  Maybe he hadn’t.

  Lacey’s words echoed my thoughts. “What if this was a setup? Maybe the boss or someone else is trying to throw you off so you don’t solve the case. I mean, if you don’t, he gets your soul and the souls of your family, right?”

  “Right, unless Belial gets it first. Do you think D might be working for the boss?”

  Or worse. Belial.

  I kicked a few stray bits of glass shards as I paced the grimy floor. I didn’t want to think about this, didn’t want to face the possibility. How much did I know D—beyond childhood memories and the pleasures of the flesh? We’d been apart for a long time. I wasn’t the same frightened girl he’d grown up with, and he was clearly no longer the shy, lost demon boy. Our reconnection had gone a long way to restoring the bond we’d once shared, weaving frayed threads of trust and longing between us, but was my demon man friend, foe, or a bit of both?

  Lacey watched me struggle, not without sympathy, and shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I just think you should watch your back. Oh, and you were right. Keith’s body has traces of demon magic all over it. Simon’s never seen anything like it in this realm before.”

  Lacey summoned Simon back to her. He flew out of the body and into her phone, his shape like that of a huge raven disappearing into the device in a series of sparks and weird green light.

  “I had no idea you cared,” I said, touched.

  Before she rounded the corner on her way back to the car, she said, “I don’t. Oh, and until you know what’s going on with D, you should probably keep it in your pants.”

  Busted

  Chapter Nineteen

  Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any weirder, Trinity called and invited me over to her place so she and her demon could share what she’d learned from the boss’s grimoire. Don’t get me wrong—I was thrilled she’d made progress on the missing page front, but she never let any of us come to her place, let alone with her demon there, presumably out in the open.

  I’d never met the demon. None of us had ever seen her demon.

  She never summoned it in front of me or the team and seemed awfully protective of the immaterial entity, who was apparently neither tempter nor lord. According to Trinity, it was something of a mage in the hell realm. More magic than a tempter, but she was evasive about how much more. I was curious but didn’t push. We needed her on the team, and I didn’t want to piss her off enough to leave us.

  The boss wouldn’t let her or any of the rest of us leave, but I’d always been a little worried that she was embarrassed of us.

  Okay, I worried she might be embarrassed of me. I tried, I really did, but I could only manage to fake being a functioning adult for thirty-minute stretches. Maybe an hour in a pinch. I couldn’t help it. It was who I was as a person.

  Bottom line—an immediate invitation could only mean one of two things: really, really bad news or a super awesome breakthrough.

  I wasn’t sure I could take more bad news, so I convinced myself it must be something super awesome. Yup, definitely a subscriber to the power of positive thinking. It was a survival skill.

  Trinity lived in one of the newer upscale high-rises in downtown Nashville, the ones that came with an Olympic-sized indoor pool, twenty-four-hour concierge service, and celebrity neighbors. I wasn’t jealous or anything. I had a killer view, and the twins sort of acted as concierges. At least they brought takeout and took out the trash…sometimes.

  It took some wrangling, three forms of identification, and a more than a little cleavage to convince the security guard to let me in. After dashing into the elevator, in case the guard changed his mind, I breathed a sigh of relief and tried to summon Hannah—again. No luck. Too bad sweet talk and cleavage didn’t work on her.

  I rang the bell and waited with bated breath. Naturally, I was dying of curiosity. I’d expected a freakishly tidy, sparse, and decidedly scholarly vibe from Trinity’s lair. When the door opened, however, I was greeted by dark woods complemented by rich earth tones, though I’d guessed right when it came to the scholarly angle—she had an impressive collection of books filling floor-to-ceiling shelves.

  I was so caught up in awe that I didn’t notice who’d answered the door, not until a deep voice laced with amusement caught my attention. “Welcome, Jane McGee. It is an honor to finally meet you.”

  I spun around and came face-to-face with a striking man with dark hair, a silky, black beard, and sparkling red eyes. Gleaming white teeth showed between a pair of sensual lips, and his cheeks dimpled as he smiled. He wore a tunic like the one I’d seen on D when he first showed up in my closet. Obviously, this guy was a demon, but he seemed familiar.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with Trinity?” I pulled my knife from its sheath and assumed a fighting stance. No sign of Hannah, damn her, but I could bluff with the best of them.

  The demon’s smile widened, and he held up his hands, palms up. “I am Marquess Samagina of the hell realm, currently in the service of Mistress Jones.”

  My jaw dropped, but fortunately, my knife did not. “You’re Trinity’s demon? But you’re corporeal,” I stammered. He had to be lying. The demon standing in front of me was solid, and there was no sign he was possessing a human body. It was his body. But I’d seen the red gleam of the demon in Trinity’s gaze too many times to count. Her demon was immaterial.

  “He’s not lying, Jinx.”

  Instinct kept my knife trained on the demon, but my gaze darted to Trinity. I’d never seen our resident scholar look sheepish, but her slumped shoulders and averted gaze alarmed me more than the bombshell she’d dropped on me. As far as I knew, and as far as any of the demon hunters in our circle had been told, demons were either immaterial or corporeal, not both.

  “Well, this should make our next refresher course on demon species more interesting.” So much for maintaining maturity, but I really couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  “You can’t tell anyone.” Trinity’s gaze met mine, hard and determined. “The boss thinks Sam is an immaterial, midlevel demon of scholarship, not a—”

  “Powerful demon lord capable of going from corporeal and incorporeal? Yeah, I’m sure the boss wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  The demon coughed, clearing his throat before speaking. “Not a lord, I’m afraid. The distinction is no doubt inconsequential to you from an earth realm perspective, but my rank and legions are not as impressive as that of a lord or duke in the hell realm.”

  Okay. That settled it. With a lecture like that, this guy had to be Trinity’s demon. And judging by the sidelong glances and tension in the room, I guessed there was more to their relationship than “Mistress” and “Marquess.” I couldn’t blame her. Tall, dark, gorgeous, and smart? She’d be crazy not to hit that.

  Plus, she’d called him “Sam.” It was kind of cute. Color me impressed.

  Trinity shot me a look of pure murder, which I ignored a
s the corners of my lips curled into my trademark smirk. I’d totally be ribbing her about this later. But we had bigger fish to fry at the moment. I sheathed my knife, which had gone all wonky again, wavering between a brilliant crimson and bright purple, and looked back and forth between my teammates.

  “Okay, now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way, maybe you and Sam here can tell me what you’ve got on the boss’s book.” I walked over to one of the gazillion bookcases, grabbed the gilded volume, and planted my ass on one of the comfy chairs surrounding Trinity’s coffee table. I flipped through the pages, being deliberately rough with ancient fabric, at least until my colleague snatched it out of my hands.

  Before I could protest, Trinity opened to a section from which several pages had been ripped and placed it on the table in front of me. The pages were still missing. I was tempted to start creasing the corners of the remaining pages when Trinity started chanting. Sam the demon scholar joined in, conjuring a pentagram around the book on the table’s surface. It reminded me of the boss’s pentagrams, with lights and floating sigils that cast the room in an eerie glow.

  Not to mention my knife. I yanked it out of its hilt before it could burn me. More powerful demon magic. How much of this shit was hiding right under our noses?

  Without breaking his rhythm, Sam said, “Place your knife on the book.”

  “Not sure that’s a good idea,” I said. “I think it’s malfunctioning.”

  “We need it. Trinity’s knife didn’t work, nor did any of my weapons. Yours might. It’s reacting to the book and its magic.”

  He was right. I placed my knife on the book, which made more of those weird purple sparks fly. The book levitated, hovering above the pentagram, and pages appeared out of thin air. Well, not exactly pages—more like holographic images that resembled pages. Ghost pages. Could a book be haunted?

  Trinity stood up and grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment from one corner of the coffee table. Where had that come from? I shook my head in a desperate attempt to wrap my mind around what was happening. I’d barely recovered from the shock of dead summoner and dual-natured demon species. I wasn’t sure I could handle what appeared to be a display of higher demon magic, which was supposed to be safely contained in the hell realm.

  “There,” Trinity said, furiously scribbling on the parchment. She was good. I could barely translate one in three words on the ghost pages, but she had no trouble reading and transcribing the words into English.

  Interpreting them would be another matter entirely.

  * * *

  In the days of the great ancient war, Belial was defeated, and his allies exterminated or banished. Should the banished one, the one who has long slumbered, awaken, this Fallen of the Host of Seven is she who has the power to open the gates to the Realm of Darkness.

  To defeat her, a Warrior forged in turmoil must rise and battle the Harbingers of Doom, which are Seven Sins and Seven Virtues.

  The Warrior will lead seven into battle; imbued with the Power of Three Realms, they will stand against two.

  Arbiter and Intercessor, in Harmony or Discord, will decide the course as they should have long ago.

  With the Warrior, or against the Warrior, to stand or fall with the Steadfast or the True.

  * * *

  “Well, then,” I said after the third read. “That clears it all up.”

  “I’m very pleased to be of service.” Sam offered me a beatific smile.

  Trinity patted him gently on the shoulder. “That was sarcasm, hon. We’ve talked about that before.” She smiled apologetically. “He doesn’t get out much, and I’m truly sorry about that, too.” The last part was addressed to Sam.

  “Oh, yes, of course.” The demon’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and I almost felt sorry for him. “My apologies. Naturally, the meaning is shrouded in metaphor and poetic language—”

  “Right, I get it. I’ve read Nostradamus.”

  Trinity arched a brow at me.

  “Fine, I watched a few documentaries on Nostradamus. Cryptic prophecies, ancient histories, blah, blah, blah. But some of it makes sense.” I started pacing, ticking off items on my fingers. “One, the boss is the Arbiter and Hannah’s the Intercessor, and they’re definitely not in harmony. Two, according to our intel, there’s a war brewing in the hell realm, presumably between Belial and…someone. Maybe that Astaroth guy?”

  Trinity shook her head and held up a finger. “Belial led a rebellion against Astaroth, and we’ve been chasing the magic angle, but this passage deals with the realm of darkness, and three realms, presumably the hell realm, the earth realm, and—”

  “The celestial realm,” Sam added helpfully. “Lord Belial did lead a hell realm army of demons against the celestials.”

  “Right,” I said. “Which just leaves us with a warrior plus seven versus seven sins and seven virtues. Seven allies? What is it with the number seven?” I turned my attention to Sam. “I thought demons were into sixes. Is this a celestial thing, you know, since angels on high are all about the number seven?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps, though the translation of what appears to be an archaic demon battle plan and prediction isn’t necessarily reliable. You might as well ask why prophecies take such license with spelling and punctuation.”

  “Look at you,” Trinity said. “You made a joke.” She gave him a high five, which made the poor guy blush and shuffle his feet. Oh, they were adorkable.

  As cute as it was, we needed to stay focused. I couldn’t solve the riddle of the warrior and sevens, but I did know I needed to get in touch with my demon ASAP. Maybe she could shed some light on this, or at least tell me what her beef with the boss was—or would be in the future. At the very least, she could help me stop whoever wanted to open the gates to the realm of darkness. That hit a little too close to Keith Pendergrass’s final message to his fellow summoners.

  End times at hand. Be ready to open the gates to the glorious rebellion.

  Yeah, that couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “What now?” Trinity asked.

  “Our priority is still securing the portals. Opening any hell realm gates is a no-no, since that seems to be step one in the prophecy of doom, not to mention that was the deal I made with the boss in the first place.”

  Trinity pushed her glasses on her nose, squared her shoulders, and nodded. “Secure your soul first, worry about the rest later. What can I do?”

  Best. Colleague. Ever.

  “Keep working the magic mojo to find and translate the other missing pages. See if you can dig up more about the warrior, team, and these harbingers of war. And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” I turned to the demon and gave him a wry smile. “Sam, glad to have you on the team, especially if you can give me an advantage over the boss.”

  He took my hand, bowed low over it, and kissed it. Oh, wow, that was hot. Old-fashioned and a little awkward, but totally hot. I winked at Trinity and wagged my eyebrows while mouthing “keeper.”

  She grinned back. “We can do that. What are you going to do?”

  I grabbed my knife and put it back in its sheath, resisting the urge to scratch the book’s cover. I was so petty.

  Instead, I headed for the door and yelled over my shoulder, “For starters, I think I need to get my knife fixed. I also need to talk to Hannah. She’s been sulking and avoiding me long enough. I’m going to get in touch with my inner demon.”

  Chapter Twenty

  By the time I made it back to my apartment, news of the ritualistic slaughter of a local Nashville man was all over television, radio, and the Internet. The story had even gone national. Jeez, nothing like gruesome and gory to ignite morbid curiosity and spread it like wildfire. My roomies were digging up anything they could find on the guy. He had a mile-long rap sheet in our circles for illegal summoning of course, but somehow, he’d managed to beat every charge levied against him.

  Kind of like he’d beaten every charge filed against him for drug trafficking and other
unsavory activities. His demons likely offered protection in exchange for illegal passage onto this realm. Either that, or he’d simply been smart enough to cover his tracks or slip through the cracks of the overworked criminal justice system.

  Or maybe D’s summoner was covering for him.

  As for the charges related to demon summoning, the boss apparently had some ethics where humans were concerned—not me, obviously, but he hadn’t punished the man in spite of overwhelming circumstantial evidence. Maybe this was his excuse. Maybe he’d sent D or someone else to get rid of this thorn in his side and make it look like the result of his meddling with demon lords.

  I was down two days and had more questions than answers. I needed to get Hannah on board with the save Jinx’s ass program. I was her host. She couldn’t ignore me forever, especially if she wanted me to keep being her host. Good grief, she seemed oblivious to our dire situation. I could’ve used her expertise on who or what killed Keith Pendergrass. She hadn’t even responded to my summons at the warehouse. I’d tugged on her psychic leash and rubbed my black mirror until my fingers were raw but with no result.

  Then there was the minor issue of the grimoire’s prediction about wars and balance and some beef she had with the boss. She could clue me in about that.

  And I still felt weird. Had ever since I’d stumbled out of bed, but the feeling had amplified as time passed. Almost like I’d lost a limb, or I’d lost my best friend.

  It was probably just a residual hangover.

  I made a cup of coffee and tried to focus. I needed all the help I could get in order summon to Hannah with Mara’s assistance. She’d never ignored me when I summoned her before this case. We figured a proper summoning circle with sigils and the use of her official title would work where scrying failed. I had a lot of questions for the Intercessor. True, she never gave straight answers. She’d never even given me a straight answer when I asked why she’d chosen to possess me. She simply stated all would be revealed in time.