The Demon's Apprentice

by Ben Reeder

  Suddenly, I was standing in front of Dominic King, with my hand wrapped around his throat. The wail I had heard was coming from him. I let him go, and we staggered back a step as I tried to remember what I had just been doing. Fighting, my brain tried to tell me. But that had been a lifetime ago right? No. Only a few seconds had gone by.

  King fell to his knees in front of me, and I remember that I had to kill him. Or…I had to prove that I could kill him. Someone…Sinbad, yes that was the guy…had told me I could just put my teeth to his neck to claim a win. I staggered forward and punched King in the face with a wild swing. He fell backward, and I dropped to my knees beside him, grabbed him by the back of the neck, then pulled him to me so I could put my teeth to his throat.

  “Mercy,” I managed to grunt, then I fell into the welcome darkness of oblivion.

  Chapter 19

  ~ There is a curious strength to be found in those who dedicate themselves to something outside their own interests. Beware the man who would sacrifice himself for something or someone other than himself. Every now and again, such men are hard to kill. ~ Shaitan, High Prince of Hell

  Being dead hurt. No surprise there, all nine Hells were supposed to be one long torture-fest, and the way I felt seemed like a good warm up to infinite suffering. In the distance, I heard the wailing and gibbering of some other lost soul, and I could make out the voices of other beings talking. Probably planning my first torment. Still, the darkness was a little comfort, and it almost felt good to lay still. The pain even seemed to be fading a little. I decided to take my sweet time about moving. I had eternity to endure this; I might as well milk the moment for all I could.

  A wet spot of warmth fell on my cheek, and I opened my eyes. It wasn’t supposed to rain in Hell. I couldn’t remember whether it was supposed to be hot or cold, but rain was definitely not in the Infernal forecast. The sight that greeted me when my eyes could focus was just as confusing; there weren’t supposed to be angels in Hell, either. Not redheaded ones with halos and green, green eyes and lips I wanted to kiss. Of course, I didn’t know if angels could cry, either. I blinked, and the blurry edges of everything sort of sharpened, and the angel’s face turned into Shade’s. The halo became the lights from the amphitheatre shining through her hair, and she was crying. Another teardrop hit my face as she sniffled and looked down at me.

  “Shade,” I managed to croak out, then her lips were covering mine, and I couldn’t remember what I wanted to say. I lost myself in her kiss, enjoying it and trying to tune out any other distractions like pain and the smell of burnt skin. She finally came up for air with my name on her lips, then she crushed me to her in a rib-creaking hug.

  “Shade,” I gasped, “Can’t…breathe!”

  She let go and laid me back down. “Sorry.” With a gentle gesture, she brushed a strand of hair from my eyes and stroked my cheek. “I thought…I thought…you were…”

  “He’s too strong for that,” came another voice. “Or maybe it’s just pure stubbornness, to match the deep well of stupidity.” Dr. C knelt down beside me, with Lucas and Wanda on either side of him.

  “I’m glad I’m still alive, too, sir,” I told him with a weak smile. “Not sure how, but I’m glad I am.”

  “King’s lycanthropy is still trying to heal the physical damage he did to you with the Hellfire,” Dr. Corwin said. “Shade re-established the pack bond with you after you and King dropped, so that’s helping too. I’m not saying it wasn’t a near thing, nor that you’re not going to hurt for the next few days, but you should make it through this relatively intact.”

  “Until my mom gets hold of me,” I groaned, not liking the repercussions of that conversation.

  “Better grounded and on your mother’s bad side for a couple of weeks than dead, I think,” Dr. C countered. He was right.

  “What about King?” I asked.

  “Still gibbering like an idiot,” Lucas supplied after a quick glance over his shoulder.

  “What did you do to him?” Sinbad asked.

  “We got to know each other a little better,” I said with a wolfish smile.

  “You know, when I said your pain was a weapon, I meant that metaphorically,” Dr. C said.

  I shrugged and closed my eyes, basking in Shade’s attention instead of worrying about later. I felt other presences closing in on us, and opened my eyes to see the rest of the pack surround our little group. Dr. C stood up and turned to face them with Lucas and Wanda at his side. Shade stayed beside me until I grunted and tried to get to my feet. She slipped an arm under my shoulder and effortlessly brought me to my feet to face Brad and the boys. Sinbad stepped back, with a narrow smile on his face.

  “He beat our leader,” Brad said accusingly. “How can you sit there and cry over him? How could you help him? We owe Dominic everything!”

  “We don’t owe him a damn thing,” Shade growled. I pulled my arm from around her shoulders and stood swaying as she advanced on Brad. “For two years, he’s feasted on our efforts, and fed us the scraps of our own kills. He’s forced us to live like his lap dogs, sitting at his feet like domesticated animals instead of running free like the wolves we are. He killed one of our pack, and he forced me into his bed like his personal sex-toy. He wasn’t our leader, Brad; he was our Master. If you want to go back to being his pet, then you go. I’m free, and I am going to stay that way.”

  “None of us beat him,” Brad argued. “You know the Law of the Wolf! The strong rule! The weak obey, or suffer. I’m not going to be ruled by a human! I challenge you, Chance Fortunato! Right here and now!” The rest of the pack turned to me, and I stepped forward. Doubt clouded his expression for a split second. He’d probably expected me to back down.

  “Retract your challenge, boy,” Sinbad growled. Brad turned and snarled at him.

  “Take it back, Brad, or face me,” Shade hissed.

  “Why?” Brad asked. I heard confusion and pain in his voice, something I’d never heard before. “Why are you defending him? Why are you choosing him over the pack…over me?”

  “Because you waited until you thought he couldn’t beat you. You’re weak, just like King. When you had the chance to help us beat him, you held yourself back from the pack bond. The pack helped Chance win. He’s my gothi, Brad, my adviser and champion. He’s one of my pack. If you want to challenge him, you challenge me first!” She stepped forward and faced off with him, fists clenched at her side.

  Off to the side, I heard Sinbad chuckle.

  “I’m King’s second,” Brad said belligerently. “If King is down, I run this pack. If you want to do this, then it’s my way or the highway. And I say this punk goes, or he takes my challenge. You’re my girl, Shade. No one moves in on my woman.”

  “I’m not your girl,” Shade snarled. “I’m my own woman.”

  “Wolves mate for life,” Brad argued, “so it’s not like you have much of a choice.”

  Shade gave me a quick glance, then her eyes narrowed and slid back to Brad. “You were never my mate, Brad. What you did to me was rape. And you let King do it to me, too. Chance stays, and the pack chooses its own path. You either deal with that, or you face me.” Shade stepped between Brad and me, and the rest of the pack came around to stand behind her.

  One of them, the guy Dr. C had shot, stepped out and extended a hand to Brad. “Come on, Brad. We’ve been through too much together. Stay with us.”

  “Screw you, Tyler. Screw all of you. This isn’t a pack any more. It’s a…herd! He spun on his heel and bounded up the rows to the top of the amphitheater. Shade shook her head sadly as he went. He stopped and looked down at us in disgust before he ran into the darkness.

  A moment later, Collins stepped into view at the top of the concrete semi-circle. He drew his badge as he came down the steps, and had his hand on the gun holstered at his hip.

  “Dominic King, you’re under arrest for assaulting a minor and attempted murder,” Collins said as he took the last step down onto the amphitheater’s floor. King man
aged to focus on him as Collins pocketed his badge and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

  As he rolled King over and ratcheted the cuffs onto his wrists, I caught Shade’s eye and gestured at her to go. She gave me a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek before she led the rest of the pack up the steps. Dr. C was heading up the steps, gesturing for Lucas and Wanda to come with him as he went, and they weren’t wasting time about doing it.

  While Collins finished cuffing King, I went to the pile of gear that I’d dropped before the fight had started. The TK wand went into my pocket, and I grabbed the pistol belt.

  “I’da thought you’d learned your lesson last night, pig. You can’t stop me,” King said as Collins pulled him to his feet.

  “I figure you haven’t learned anything,” Collins replied calmly. “I got a wizard for back up and a mag full of silver rounds. What you’ve got is the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney present during questioning.”

  “You can’t touch me and you can’t take me in, cop. So shut the hell up. I got people to go kill,” King sneered as he pulled his arm free of Collins grip. He flexed his shoulders and I heard metal snap as he broke free of the cuffs. Before I could move, he was across the arena and digging in his jacket.

  “Hands where I can see them!” Collins ordered, as he pulled his gun.

  On the top of the amphitheater, Dr. C began a spell, and King made his move. His hand came out of the jacket with a pistol. He shot Collins three times, then aimed over my head and squeezed off three more shots before Collins hit the ground.

  Along with the clatter of Collins’ gun on the cement, I heard Dr. C grunt, and turned to see rounds bouncing off of a hastily erected shield. Wanda and Lucas crouched beside him, trying to stay behind the barrier. But maintaining a shield that big without a focus was taking a lot out of him.

  With superhuman speed, King turned the gun on me, and I had to dive to the side, praying my still-enhanced reflexes would help me dodge the bullets. I tried to pull the TK wand from my pocket as I fumbled one of the pistols from its holster. Rounds hissed by me amid the roar of the gun, and I hit the ground and slid to a stop a few feet from Collins. Before I stopped moving, King had reloaded the gun, and was firing at Dr. C, who staggered back with one hand to his head, and the other raised to focus his warding spell.

  As fast as King was moving, we would be lucky to keep him on the defensive even if we were at our best. As it was, we were barely holding our own. I spared a brief thought for what Mr. Chomsky must have faced, as I got to my feet and moved toward Collins. I finally managed to get the wand free of my pocket as King turned toward me.

  “Ictus!” I yelled as I ran.

  King ducked the blast of force and fired at me at the same time, but his aim was off, and he blew a chunk out of the concrete, instead of my ass. As I dove to the ground behind Collins, King turned and fired at Dr. C again, then there was a quick moment when the night was silent except for the echo of the slide locking back on his pistol and the hollow sound of brass casings bouncing on concrete. Dr. C stumbled and caught himself against one of the light poles, and I felt the weak shimmer of his hastily cast shield fade from my mystic senses. Beside me, Collins moaned, and I saw King’s gaze focus on him.

  Time stopped for a second as I met King’s eyes. I only had as long as it took for him to reload to stop him or someone was going to die, and he was going to get away. I didn’t know if I could beat him home, or if I could get Mom and Dee out in time. Collins was between us, and Dr. C was effectively helpless. The cruel gleam in his eye told me what no words could; he wanted to make me choose who was going to die. He gave me a slow grin as he turned his right hand and worked a catch on the side of his pistol. Time crawled slowly into gear again, and I was hyperaware of everything happening in microsecond snapshots in my head.

  The magazine slipped free of the butt of his pistol, and his left hand dropped to his side. I dropped the TK rod and grabbed Collins by the belt with my now-empty right hand, then rolled using my amplified strength, drawing him across the top of my body, so that for a part of a second, we were face to face. Collins’ eyes were wide as I flung him over my body and onto the first step. From the other side, I heard the full magazine slide home into the pistol, and the empty hit the floor with a loud clatter. While my face was full on to the floor, I heard the tiny, almost imperceptible snap of the catch on the side of the pistol being worked, and I heard the slide click home. My left hand felt like it weighed a ton as I came to my feet, facing King, for the first time realizing I had grabbed the pistol instead of the paintball gun. Our gazes met, and his smile faded. A little red dot appeared on his chest. From somewhere, I heard a single click as things seemed to pause again for heartbeat. An explosion hammered my ears, and I flinched as my left hand told me it had been kicked hard.

  My eyes opened to see the red dot on King’s chest replaced by a hole in his shirt, and a widening circle of red around it. A thin wisp of acrid smoke drifted up from the barrel of the gun in my hand like a silent accusation. I blinked in shock as King staggered and put his empty hand to the wound in his chest, then looked back at me when it came away shaking and covered with his blood. He took a couple of unsteady steps backward, then his legs just gave out, and he ended up on his butt. The gun in his right hand fell to the ground, and he just sat there with a blank look on his face. He stared at me for a few seconds, then he blinked, and his expression went flat. Whatever spark of life was left in his eyes faded, and he slumped to the side. Off in the distance, the echo of the gunshot rolled across the black water of the lake.

  I set the gun down gently. I had just shot a man and watched him die. There had been no dignity in his death, no glory in killing him, no snappy one-liner on my lips to punctuate the moment. There was fear and anger, but no happiness that he was dead. The only comfort I found was that Dr. C and Officer Collins were still alive, and that Mom and Dee were safe.

  “Chance?” Dr. C said gently, suddenly at my side. “Are you okay?”

  Collins came up beside me, his face drawn tight with pain.

  “You were right about me, Dr. C,” I whispered. “Dulka turned me into a weapon.”

  Collins reached down and picked up the pistol, then wiped it off with his sleeve. He hefted it and gave me long, searching look before he spoke. “Corwin, get the kid outta here before my backup gets here. I got this.” He grimaced as he pulled his shirt free of the Kevlar vest that had saved him, then went to King.

  I let Dr. C lead me up the steps, still numb from what I’d just done. Shade and the pack were staring down at me from the edge of the arena, and Lucas and Wanda were peeking up over the edge. What did they think of me now?

  “Hey, kid,” Collins called from the bottom. I turned to look at him. “I owe you, big time.”

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “No. You don’t.”

  Epilogue

  ~ You can’t judge someone for killing a person. It’s how they react afterward where you see their true character. ~ Thaddeus Bonewitz, Right Hand of Death

  I’d killed a man. How was I supposed to end that day? What kind of person did that make me? My thoughts circled as Shade and I huddled together in the camp’s beat-up chapel, watching the world deal with what I’d done. Further down the hill, we could see the flashing blue and red lights of police cars and ambulances. Dr. C had left with Lucas and Wanda, and the rest of the pack had scattered into the night. Collins was probably lying through his teeth to cover for me with the cops, and my friends had to avoid me so Dr. C could cover for me with the Conclave. I had no idea where Sinbad was, or even when he’d left.

  I turned away from the window and walked across the open floor of the chapel. The black case I’d seen the other night was laying open on the ground, with a crumpled piece of paper on the ground next to it. I crouched next to it and picked up the paper. In the moonlight, I could see writing in a flowing
, neat hand.

  The contents have been relocated for security reasons. Sorry for the inconvenience,

  Sydney Chomsky, Wizard

  A tarot card lay under the note, and my fingertips tingled as I flipped it over. The Page of Swords looked up at me with blade in hand. A grim smile spread across my face. Mr. Chomsky hadn’t died for nothing. In the end, he’d beaten King by being smarter. I folded the note and slipped it and the tarot card into my back pocket. Shade stepped in close and put her arms around me.

  “King didn’t give you much of a choice, Chance,” she whispered in my ear. She snuggled up closer to me and I felt her lips brush my cheek. “You didn’t go in there intending to kill anyone.”

  “Right. I had good intentions,” I said. “I know what the road to Hell is paved with. What I did tonight…was more of the same. I just wish I knew the way back. I don’t even know what that road to redemption looks like.”

  She planted a long, slow kiss on me. After we came up for air, she stepped back and gave me a slow smile. Then, she reached down and pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a white satin bra and perfect skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight. With a smile, she reached behind her back for the bra clasp, and I heard the snap of it coming undone.

  “Shade, what are you doing?”

  She slipped one of the straps off her shoulder. Her eyes slid to me, and I could feel the heat in her gaze. “Saying thank you,” she whispered. She leaned in and kissed me.

  Much to my monkey brain’s disappointment, I put my hand on her shoulder and pushed her back. Where she had been pressed against me, warmth was replaced with cold night air. “No, Shade.”