Demon's Play

by David McBride

  She smiled. “True enough, but it should have been me that killed him, not you. You saved her from a civil war and you are not even a vampire. You didn’t have to get involved.”

  “It’s my job to get involved.”

  Her smile widened to reveal perfect teeth. “I knew you would say that. Piling bricks in place is a job, unloading these freighters is a job. Most Inquisitors would have been glad to see the vampires of their communities cull their own numbers. But you aren’t like them. Just like the man with the hobbled leg and his cross, you fight to protect others regardless of the odds. That is why I marked you as my equal. You were made an honorary pack member by the wolves after you saved Eric’s life; this was my way of doing the same.”

  Suddenly uncomfortable, I broke eye contact to look at the sky. “We don’t have much time left.” The raven cawed at me as if to agree.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think Christian’s going to attack at sundown.” We started walking towards the barracks again, this time a little faster.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Two reasons. First, the sun interferes with necromantic powers. It doesn’t matter if it’s hidden behind clouds or not, it just doesn’t work as well during the day. And without his Demon to back him up, he’ll just be operating on his normal powers.”

  “Makes sense,” she admitted. “And the second reason?”

  “Look.” I pointed past her towards the main entrance. In the distance were small shapes wheeling in the wind. Where there had been only one raven minutes before now there were dozens of them, their small black bodies circling the fence, their song calling out to whoever was able to listen.

  31

  “Move those jeeps,” Commander Mason bellowed to be heard over the revving of engines. “I want to be able to cover every possible avenue of entrance.” The soldiers of Bravo Company hurried to obey, moving the vehicles, and more importantly their mounted machine guns, to face the multiple streets of the intersection we occupied. To either side of the main road sandbags had been piled high to create temporary redoubts for the riflemen. The barricades sat at the edges of a concave line of defenses that faced in a rough northeastern direction. Two empty deuce-an-a-half trucks that barricaded the road and two manned jeeps occupied the apex of the formation that, I imagined, looked like a bow from the raven’s point of view.

  Clara walked beside me, slightly behind to give the illusion that I was leading her. I watched as soldier after soldier turned to study us. I say ‘us,’ but really it was just Clara they had an interest in. Hungry eyes followed her every move and jealous glares turned in my direction. All of those rifles that had been so reassuring an hour ago seemed less comforting now. A few soldiers, Commander Mason included, stared at Clara not with desire but with outrage, violence simmering just below the surface. He shouted some final orders and stomped his way over to us before we could get too close to the assembly area.

  “You two have a hell of a lot of nerve.” His angry eyes fixed on me. “I allow you onto my base in the spirit of cooperation and you repay me by bringing her here?”

  Clara made to reply. “He didn’t—”

  With an angry swipe of his hand the commander silenced her, though she didn’t look happy about it. She knew she was on foreign soil here, a guest of the U.S. government. “And you,” Mason snarled at Clara. “Any more mind tricks on my men and I’ll have you shot.”

  I wondered at the threat. What good would that do? You might as well threaten to kick the steel plating on a tank. Then I noticed the red-tipped rounds that hung from the fifty-caliber on a nearby jeep. Incendiary rounds. The good stuff too, not the commercial junk that overheated and warped your gun barrel. These had a special coating that took a fraction of a second to wear off as it left the barrel so that the extreme heat it generated wouldn’t damage the weapon firing it. I glanced down at my pistol and sighed. The silver-coated bullets with their plastic-encapsulated blessed-saltwater tips were great for vamps and wolves, but as I had seen earlier they did little to dissuade a zombie unless it pierced the brain, and even less against ghouls. I didn’t know how much better their guns would fare, but I wanted one just the same. It was a chain-fed fifty for crying out loud. Who wouldn’t want one?

  “I apologize for the misunderstanding, commander,” I said in my most sincere voice. I needed everyone on the same page right now and diplomacy was the best weapon. Men like Mason despised having their position challenged, so I decided to use that to my advantage. Avoiding his glare and looking properly cowed, I added, “Clara had some information that was for my ears only. She may have acted hastily, but she thought she was doing so in my interests. It’s entirely my fault and will except any consequences you deem appropriate.” The lie came easily if not guiltlessly. Mason was one of the good guys, and I hated manipulating him like this but we had bigger things to worry about at the moment. I chanced a look up to see how Mason took my apology. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. Threatening a trespassing vampire was one thing, but an Inquisitor was wholly different.

  Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Mason looked over his shoulder to see who was watching. Most of the activity had slackened off so the soldiers could watch their commander rip into someone. At his fierce glance they burst back into frantic life. He turned back to us. “On my base, Inquisitor, there is no information for your ears only. If I find out you are withholding facts that endanger my men I will make your life very difficult.” In an angry whisper, he added, “I can’t have you shot like trespassers but there are plenty of other things that are within my authority. Am I understood?”

  “Perfectly, sir,” I replied.

  He turned on his heel and began shouting orders, dismissing us as if we had ceased to exist. Off to our left I saw Ben exiting an alley between two buildings, his cane taking more of his weight than usual. He wore one of the black rain slickers that some of the soldiers wore, and a tan floppy-brimmed hat that made me think of treks through the desert sun. The edges of it dipped with the weight of the rain, though the pace had slackened to a dreary mist and the final vestiges of sunlight peeked through to make the clouds look like molten silver. Behind me I heard Clara hiss at the jagged rays of light.

  “There you are,” Ben chimed enthusiastically as he walked over to us. His cheer seemed entirely at odds with our surroundings. “Here, try this.” He shoved a handful of small snack bars at me. “They’re much better than I thought they’d be.” He clucked at my hesitancy, opened one, and took a large bite. “We need to keep our strength up, Frank,” he said around a mouthful of pressed granola. I stuffed two in my pockets and tore into the third. At the sight of food my stomach began rumbling eagerly. It was a sad state of affairs when even this compacted foodstuff garnered my belly’s approval. I hadn’t even realized how famished I was until now. I sniffed at it before taking a bite. It tasted just like it smelled: like nothing. Reading my expression, Ben said, “Don’t worry, you get used to the aftertaste.” He looked at Clara who had been regarding us silently. “I’m glad you finally decided to make your presence known, Clara. I was beginning to wonder what your intentions were.”

  For a brief moment, Clara’s eyes flashed with uncertainty. “You knew I was here?”

  Waving languidly at the air around him, he said, “Here, there. Ever since a stray cat made its way into my recovery room I knew you were close. The only question I had was why. That and where those extra pounds go when you turn into your feline form. Neat trick by the way.”

  I nearly choked on my protein bar.

  “How could you have possibly detected me?” Clara asked softly, with something dangerous tingeing her voice.

  Ben laughed. A stray crumb shot from his mouth and landed on his parka, only to be washed away a moment later. “I didn’t get to where I am today because of my angelic good looks, little lady. Now I suggest you two take up positions on the right flank. Simon will be on the left and I’ll hold the center.”
He paused for a moment, considering. “That is if you intend to stay on with us.” He quirked an eyebrow at Clara, who nodded tightly, still unnerved that she had been discovered when she had tried so hard at stealth. “Excellent! Do you want a weapon?” A shake of her head in the negative. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t offer. We should hurry, though. If Christian still intends to get the Book he’ll come for it soon.” He looked over to where the sun, once again hidden by clouds, dipped below the horizon. He started to walk away.

  “Ben,” I called after him. He paused and half-turned towards me. “Are you alright? You seem a bit more…cheery than I would have expected.”

  “His acolytes bested me before, and not many can make that claim,” he said, wagging a finger at me. “This time Christian’s master is stored away, his familiars can only carry so much of the Demon’s magic, and his followers won’t just be an extension of his powers, but a drain on them as well. I’ve spent the day warding this place as best I could, but he’ll get through if he still has that enchantment on him that makes him invisible to magical detection.” He smiled sadly at me. “This is the sort of stuff they record in the archives, where heroes are made. It’d be a great day if all these humans weren’t in the way. At least Mason spent the day evacuating all the nonessential personnel.” Resuming his walk, he called over his shoulder. “Get ready to make history, Frank.”

  Once he was out of earshot, Clara spoke to me without taking her eyes off of Ben’s retreating back. “The wizard is strange…and a little scary.” I could only chuckle at her frank admission.

  Clara and I drifted over to the right end of the nearest sandbag wall. Eight soldiers, including sergeant Menendez, crouched or sat behind it, nervously chatting with each other. The conversations died away as we approached.

  “This gargoyle gonna do somethin’ or what?” the sergeant asked me.

  “You’re not actually eager for this are you?”

  “I’m eager for something.” His eyes flicked to Clara and then back to me, as if his subconscious was trying to send a message to her. “All this waiting around is making my finger itch. Besides, the boss broke out the big guns for this. It’d be a shame to go to all the trouble and then not kill something with ‘em.”

  “Can you kill something that’s already dead?” one of the soldiers next to him asked.

  “Only one way to find out, right Inquisitor?” He winked up at me as the men around him made sounds of agreement.

  “Take your positions!” Mason bellowed suddenly, his voice echoing up and down the darkening streets. “We’ve got incoming!”

  The sounds of safeties being switched off and rounds being chambered sounded up and down the line. I pulled my own gun from its holster, feeling very inadequate as the eight men next to me leaned their assault rifles over the sandbags. Clara stood stock-still; her head tilted back tasting the air. Glancing at a flag that fluttered in the distance, I saw that the wind was blowing from the east out to sea. Clara’s eyes flashed open and she fixed an iron-hard gaze on the main road off to our left.

  “What is it?”

  “Rot.” She said it as if the word itself was fouled, something to be spit out as quickly as possible.

  Ben suddenly moved forward to stand far in front of the gathered defenders, his staff tapping loudly in the breathless silence. He looked to his left and right and waved Simon and me over.

  “Stay here, Clara, and stay low. I don’t want to tip Christian to your presence just yet.” If, like the stories suggested, necromancers could exert control over vampires then I didn’t want him to know that an Elder was here. Having Simon here could be bad enough.

  She nodded and crouched down next to the soldiers.

  “Don’t worry,” Menendez said to me. “We’ll take good care of her in your absence.”

  “Keep your hands to yourself or I’ll break your fingers,” Clara said in a bored tone.

  The other men laughed while Menendez paled. “I thought you liked your women feisty, sarge,” one of the others asked with a smirk.

  “Not quite that feisty,” He murmured.

  I left them and ran to meet Ben. Simon was already there, and they both stared at a point in the distance. I passed out of the shadow of a squat building and followed their eyes. A man was walking towards us, arms out to the sides, palms open and pointed towards us to show us he was unarmed.

  “How did he get in?” Simon asked.

  Ben never looked away while he answered. “I let him in. Christian did the magical equivalent of knock. Perhaps he wishes to negotiate his surrender through this surrogate.”

  I scoffed and opened my Second Sight. It was one of his acolytes. Green energy shot through with the black of death surrounded him, pulsing from the object on his wrist. A haze shrouded the man’s face as if he were holding a plastic bag in front of him. It shifted as he swung his head back and forth, always a fraction of a second out of phase.

  The man came to a stop ten feet away from us. Through the energy shroud I could make out features of a desiccated face. The welts on his neck from his strangulation had faded to a bluish tint, his once dark skin now a pale shadow. I remembered him from the church. He smiled a brown-toothed smile that showed me blackened gums. A handful of flies buzzed around his head like a morbid halo.

  “Inquisitors,” he hissed. “I have come to conclude our business.”

  “I’ve had second thoughts,” I said. The gun in my hand felt as light as a feather, lighter than air even, as if willing me to raise it and destroy the abomination before me. “We were hoping in light of recent events that you had decided to give yourself up.”

  “A cell in Alcatraz is much better than the alternative,” Ben said. “It is the best offer you’ll receive, Christian.”

  The blue haze shifted back and forth while the man’s head remained motionless. Through split, bloodless lips the thing croaked, “You are a baffling group. What makes you think you can beat me, wizard? Have you discovered some secret magic in the last twelve hours, hmm? Perhaps you have suckled at the teat of the sorceress herself and will cause fire to rain from the sky.” A laugh as sharp and mean as broken glass escaped the thing. “It wouldn’t matter even if you had. One day soon that bitch will kiss my feet and ask what she can do for me, how she can best please me. But for now I will content myself with the three of you. All day I have been raising my army. We stand poised to overrun you, to hang your innards from the barbed wire that surrounds this place, and you seek to cow me?” Both physical and metaphysical faces swung to me. The shimmering blue mask had taken on the distinctive sharp outlines of Christian’s lean face. “My offer still stands, psychic. Give me the Book and all here will live. This needn’t end in bloodshed. At least not here,” he added with a titter. There was tightness to it though. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that when the blue veil of energy had looked upon me I had seen something in its expression. Something…uneasy.

  “Give it up, Christian,” Simon said wearily. “Your master is gone, trapped, locked away never to see the sky of this world again. Why don’t you make it easy on all of us, and yourself, and surrender. What do you say?”

  Both sets of eyes swiveled to Simon, and the corpse balked, “And you call me insane! What madness has possessed you, vampire? My Master would never leave me. Even when silent for a time He is always with me.” The ghoulish smile reappeared as he tilted his head as if to better hear something the rest of us couldn’t. “And He is with me now, oh yes. He whispers such sweet things. Things about a boat in the harbor and what treasures lay inside it.”

  Ben paled and clutched his staff tighter. “No. You can’t know that. You couldn’t have seen past my veil.”

  The corpse nodded. “Few mortals could. You weave quite the impressive spells, wizard. Indeed, this entire place is a testament to that. But they are child’s play to the true immortals.”

  My mind slogged through what Christian’s enslaved corpse was saying. His master was free. Nathilog had escaped his impriso
nment in the spirit catcher and was free to direct him. And if it were free it would want revenge on those that had trapped it. Visions of Jon, battered and bloody ran through my head. The shop in flames, consumed by Demonic fire that water couldn’t extinguish.

  What have I done?

  And Juliet, what if she had returned? Jon had said he would keep the shop closed as long as the box was there but would she have stayed away? She was so inquisitive, so innocent. A phantom scream echoed through my ears drowning out my hammering heart. I gasped breath as I imagined Juliet haloed by hellfire, her body beset by leeches like the ones that had eaten through part of my car.

  How could I have been such a fool? It’s all my fault.

  “My Master wants that Book, mortals,” the corpse rasped.

  My vision blurred to a red haze, save for where the blue energy floated ghostlike in front of the acolyte. Something inside me snapped.

  “You lie!” I roared, as the pistol came up and blew off the right side of his face.

  * * *

  “I think you need to work on your subtlety, Franklin,” Clara chided me as she peered over the sandbag wall.

  I didn’t remember coming to sit beside her. The last few minutes were a jumbled blur. A vision of the acolyte’s head being blown apart surfaced, its jaw falling to one side as the opposite joint was destroyed, its dead eyes registering nothing. It had pulled its mouth back together and staggered drunkenly away, tracers stitching a glowing path after him. The wards had crashed shut behind him as Ben had withdrawn his protection, the thrum of energy filling the air with an uncanny buzzing like thousands of angry hornets.

  Those images seemed far away and unreal, as if I had viewed them on the television. What was real was the stinging bite of bile at the back of my throat, the deepening pit in my heart. The Guilt. I scrabbled for the phone in my pocket, dropping my gun to the ground in my desperation to know. Jon and Juliet had to be alright, they just had to. My fingers couldn’t find the right buttons.