It Happened One Doomsday

by Laurence MacNaughton

  “Greyson.” With every ounce of strength Dru could muster, she raised her gaze and stared the demon directly in his molten-iron eyes. “I know you can hear me. Fight it, Greyson. Fight it!”

  Because if he didn’t, she was doomed. Alone, she was no match for this thing, and she knew it.

  The demon stopped, his breath blowing hot on her skin. With a deep grunt, he turned his head away and shook it side to side, his massive horns gleaming.

  “Listen to me, Greyson. You’re stronger than this. I know you. When we were in the garden, I felt that strength. I know you have it in you.” She longed to reach out and comfort him, but the crystals in her hands felt like loaded weapons. She kept them close to her body. “Follow my voice, Greyson. Remember the way back. I’m here.”

  Slowly, the demon’s head swiveled back around to face her. The lavalike glow was gone, replaced by glowing red irises.

  Deep within them, she could see Greyson staring back at her. Barely, but he was there.

  “Dru . . .” he whispered, his voice tortured and hoarse.

  “That’s it,” she said. “Just breathe. You can do this.”

  “I . . . can’t . . .” He staggered back, clutching his head with his huge hands. He let out a wordless groan that sounded more animal than human.

  She moved to follow him. “You can. I can sense it in you. Don’t slip away.”

  “Dru. I can’t stop it.” He panted. His voice dropped into a monstrous rumble. “Get back. I don’t want to—” His words became an anguished growl.

  Dru tightened her fists around the crystals. She could feel their energy humming in her fingers. Being this close to Greyson, even though he was corrupted by the demon, somehow magnified her power to an entirely new level. She knew there were forces unfolding here she hadn’t even begun to understand.

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said. “We’re connected. Can you feel it? Greyson, we can find a way. We will. Just stay with me.”

  He stumbled back, demon head thrashing side to side. Then he stopped.

  When he next looked at her, his eyes faded behind the hellish glow. He ground out one last strangled word.

  “Run!”

  Somehow, through the fear that instantly flooded her veins, Dru realized with crystalline clarity that Greyson was trying to save her. It could have been his last conscious moment on earth, and he used it to try to spare her life.

  Dru knew then that she’d die before she’d let the demon have him.

  She brought up her fists, holding them a shoulder-width apart. A rush of energy sang through her, up and down both arms. She could feel an almost magnetic pull between the crystals. Together, they could protect her. She didn’t know how she knew that.

  But she knew. Felt it deep inside her core. The sheer magnitude of Greyson’s presence had unlocked a deep potential within her. It welled up inside her, ready to explode.

  The demon straightened up and slowly flexed his arms, thick fingers working the air, primed to grab her. A sigil glowed red-hot on his hands: two triangles with rounded bases, connected by a bar across the top.

  As they grew brighter and became white-hot, Dru realized what the sigil was. Scales. Like the scales of justice.

  She had no idea what that meant, but she didn’t have time to wonder. The demon lunged at her with blinding speed.

  Dru drove the heels of her hands together, crystals clutched tight in her fingers. The magic flowed out of her at an indescribable rate, like a river bursting through the floodgates of a dam, many times more powerful than anything she’d ever known. It refracted through the crystals, changed, and emerged as a blinding blue-white glow that enveloped her fists.

  The demon’s hands struck the outside of her protective aura and halted midswing, as if striking an invisible wall. His touch sizzled.

  She felt the impact reverberate through her defenses and into her, a searing pain that burned her soul even more than her skin. She staggered for a moment, then planted her feet and leaned in, desperate to stand her ground.

  But the demon kept pushing her back. She fought to hold her place, high heels scraping across the driveway, but she was no match for him. He pushed her until she was pinned against the concrete wall by the alley.

  There was nowhere else to go. He had trapped her.

  Grinning, the demon pressed on, threatening to crush her behind her own enchantment. The pressure increased until her spell overloaded with a blistering flash and flared out of existence.

  Leering, the demon lowered his smoking hands. The afterimage of the magical clash remained burned into Dru’s retinas, superimposed on the demon’s hulking body. In the sudden silence, her ears popped.

  Dru tried to call her magic defenses back, but they were gone. She raised her shaking arms, so heavy she could barely lift them, and opened her sooty hands. The crystals in her palms were blackened, burned. They crumbled, and their remains slipped away through her numb fingers.

  The demon opened his jaws wide, fangs wet and sharp, and let loose a terrifying growl.

  From the darkness of the alley came a rhythmic clanging that grew louder and faster with every beat.

  Rane streaked out of the alley, legs pumping. Her metal skin shimmered beneath the streetlight.

  The red-hot glyphs on the demon’s hands flared brighter. He raised his fists. But before he could strike, Rane drove her own fist into his face with a deafening clang that rang like a hammer striking an anvil.

  The impact drove the demon back, lifting him up off his hoofed feet. He toppled to the pavement with an earthshaking thud, skidded flat on his back, and let out a heavy breath. Then he slumped and lay still.

  Rane slowly bent over, hands clutched together under her chin. She sank to her knees on the sidewalk, hunched over until her metal forehead nearly touched the ground, then toppled over onto her side.

  Dru, shocked, looked from Rane’s still metal form to the demon and back. They both looked as if they could be dead. In the distance, a mournful police siren wailed.

  The demon heaved a slow breath. Alive, but out cold.

  With tentative steps, Dru crossed the short stretch of concrete and knelt down beside Rane, afraid to touch her, terrified some horrible magical affliction had overcome her.

  With a sound like a sword being slid back into its scabbard, Rane became human again. Her skin lost its steely shine and turned tan and soft. Her straight blonde hair fell down over her face, partly obscuring her pained expression. She clutched her right fist and pressed it against her chest, breathing hard.

  She opened one squinting eye and glared at Dru.

  “Rane?” Dru whispered. “What’s wrong?”

  “Fuck,” Rane intoned solemnly, as if it were a deep spiritual revelation, “that hurt.”

  12

  THE MONSTERS WE KEEP

  Dru pulled Rane to her feet. Even in human form, the woman was deceptively heavy, built like an Amazon in a bright pink tank top and jogging shorts that said Bad across the rear.

  Unsteady on her feet, Rane held onto Dru for support, then pulled her into a crushing hug. “Dude, I thought you were a goner,” Rane whispered in her ear. “When I saw that light . . .” Her voice caught. She drew in a breath that sounded like the beginning of a sob, then slowly blew it out. “Okay. Okay. We’re all good, right?”

  “Totally.” Dru gave her a thankful squeeze. But Rane held on, tightening the hug into a back-popping embrace.

  Dru tried to wriggle free, but it was like pushing against a brick wall.

  “Did he hurt you, D?” Rane said into her hair.

  “Ack. I can’t breathe.”

  “Oh. Right.” Rane finally let her go. She swiped at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her uninjured hand.

  “Let me see your hand.” Dru reached for her, but Rane pulled away.

  “Whatever. I’m good to go.” Rane circled the unconscious demon, who was stretched out mere inches from the front bumper of Nate’s car.

  “Thank you. For, you
know.” Dru pantomimed slugging the air. “If you’d hit him a little harder, I think I’d be buying Nate a new car.”

  Rane put her hands on her hips and glared at the demon. “So now what do we do?”

  Distant police sirens grew closer. Down the street, blue and red lights began to reflect off the houses and trees.

  Dru looked over her shoulder, down the dark alley. “Can we get him out of sight, at least?”

  “Yeah. Bet he’s heavy, though. Let me just get my game face on.” Rane played with her rings. “I keep worrying I’m gonna use up this titanium ring. Better switch to the sparky rock.” She closed her hand over the stone ring.

  With a grinding sound, patches of Rane’s skin turned the same speckled gray of her flint ring. The effect quickly spread until Rane’s entire body transformed into solid flint. “Now let’s do it.”

  Dru kicked off her heels. She struggled to lift Greyson’s ankles, but Rane hoisted him up like a sack of groceries. Together, they carried him into the alley. There in the cool darkness, beneath a burned-out light bulb in a cage, was a steel door in the side of the garage. Rane kicked it open, denting the door and splintering the frame.

  “Wait!” Dru whispered, realizing the futility of stealth at this point. “We don’t even know what’s in there!”

  “So? Get the lights.” Rane shifted her grip under his armpits and dragged him away into pitch blackness that smelled of gasoline and chemicals.

  Dru fumbled blindly, fingers gliding around the jagged wood of the broken doorframe, until she found a light switch. Just as she was about to flip it, a spotlight lit up the alley, shining across graffiti-painted brick walls, wind-blown newspapers, clusters of dead leaves.

  As quietly as she could, Dru eased the dented door closed and leaned all of her weight against it, hoping the damage couldn’t be easily seen from the street.

  Pulses of blue and red lights splashed across the front of the building, reflecting around her where they leaked in through unseen windows.

  Across the dark garage, a cascade of metal crashed to the floor. “Sorry,” Rane said. “My bad.”

  An idling car engine crept up, accompanied by the squawking of radio voices and the crunch of tires on loose gravel.

  After an agonizing minute, Dru whispered, “Why aren’t they leaving?”

  “Probably running the plates on Nate’s car,” Rane answered from the darkness, not bothering to lower her voice. “Why, he got any outstanding warrants?”

  “Funny.” Dru waited, sweating, as the police cruiser idled out front. She had the irresistible urge to swallow, but her throat was bone-dry. When had she become the kind of person who hid from the police?

  She thought about walking out into the flashing lights, hands up, trying to explain. You see, my customer turned into a demon. Then my friend punched him out. So it’s all under control now, Officer, thank you.

  No.

  She wondered if Nate would bail her out of jail.

  Probably not.

  After an eternity of pounding heartbeats, the lights and sounds faded away, leaving the three of them alone in the darkness. The demon’s breathing echoed like a snoring horse.

  Dru silently counted to ten, then flipped the switch. She blinked in the sudden glare.

  The garage was easily big enough for three cars, but it held only one: the long, angular form of Greyson’s black muscle car. It crouched behind Rane’s back, its hood open just an inch, as if waiting to devour her.

  Rane, still in stone form, had dropped the demon at her feet. Beside her, a tool tray was overturned, the source of the crash. A dozen shiny wrenches lay scattered across the concrete floor, and the corner of the metal tray was squashed flat under her stone heel.

  The walls of the garage were lined with upright red tool cabinets. The swollen tanks of a welding rig sat in the corner, topped by a well-used tinted visor. Spare parts hung from the walls, surrounded by chrome hubcaps and old license plates in faded colors.

  Rane glanced over her shoulder at the car. “Damn.” She stalked around the car as if it would bite her. “This thing got a Hemi?”

  “Something about that car gives me the creeps.” Dru started to turn away, then gave it a puzzled look. Something didn’t add up. “Wait, how did his car get back here?”

  Rane cocked her head to the side, like a puppy.

  “I mean, I assume he drove to the restaurant,” Dru said. “So . . . wouldn’t it still be there, in the parking lot?”

  “Maybe he took a cab.” Rane shrugged. “It’s not like the car drove itself home.”

  “Strange.” Dru shook her head. “Anyway, let’s get Greyson restrained before he wakes up.”

  Rane gave her a stone grin that was half amusement, half disbelief. “Restrained?”

  “If we can.” Dru went through the tool cabinets, gingerly at first, then with more urgency, looking for rope, cable, duct tape, anything. “Unless you want to fight him again when he wakes up.”

  “Wasn’t much of a fight,” Rane muttered. But she started looking, too.

  In a bottom drawer, Dru found a pile of thick metal chain. Long stretches of it were caked with oily grime and occasional patches of bright orange spray paint. But it felt solid enough to hold down an elephant. She grabbed a heavy handful and dragged it out across the floor. “What do you think? Chain him up?”

  Rane found one end, then looked from Greyson to Dru and back. “Kinky,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

  Dru sighed. “Whatever.”

  Near one of the walls of the garage, a pair of foot-wide metal I-beams supported the high roof. It didn’t take long to prop Greyson up against the base of one of the beams and wrap chains around his arms and chest.

  Rane jammed a long metal bolt through the ends of the chain and bent it into a pretzel shape. “That should hold him. For a while, anyway.” With a grinding sound, she turned human again.

  “Great.” Dru looked down at her dress. It was completely ruined. Wrinkled, dirty, and torn at the hem. Now it had a black greasy smudge on the side, too. “Fantastic.”

  Rane wiped ineffectively at the smudge with a red shop rag. “Way better than the night I had planned. What’s next?”

  “I have to find a way to cure him. Without screwing it up again.” Dru sighed with frustration. “Somewhere in here, there’s a cursed artifact of some kind. We need to find it and break the connection.”

  “What does it look like, this artifact? Is it glowy or something?”

  “That’s the problem. It could be anything.” Dru thought about the burning glyphs on the demon’s hands. “My guess is it’ll be marked with a symbol. Like the scales of justice.”

  “Okay. Find something with scales on it. Sounds simple. Don’t you have a crystal that allows you to see enchantments? TV crystal or something?”

  “TV rock. Ulexite. Yes, but it’s back at the shop.”

  Rane folded her arms. “Hold up. If the evil hoodoo charm is in here with us, making this place ground zero for demon weirdness, doesn’t that mean this is exactly the wrong place to chain him up?”

  The two of them regarded the unconscious demon. His head hung down, thick curved horns hiding his face.

  “You want to move him?” Dru said.

  “Nope.”

  “Me either.” Dru took a deep breath. “Look, I hate to split up, but I need you here to keep an eye on him.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back to the shop to get more crystals. And check my books. I’ll be back here in maybe an hour, tops.”

  For a brief instant, Rane looked deeply worried. Then it was gone, and Rane waved it off. “It’s fine. You go. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Dru thought about it. Maybe splitting up was a really bad idea after all. “I don’t know what else to do. Is there anyone else we can call in on this? Salem, maybe?” She hated to bring up Rane’s ex-boyfriend, but the situation was desperate.

  Rane’s face darkened. “No.”

  “Maybe
I should call Opal, have her come over with some crystals and books.”

  Rane put her hands on Dru’s shoulders. “You call in Opal, she’ll get hurt, maybe worse. Regular people can’t handle these kinds of problems.”

  “Opal’s not exactly regular.”

  “But she doesn’t have powers like we do. This thing is between you and me. So go back to the shop, get your own gear, and hurry back.” As if sensing her reluctance to leave, Rane swept her into another bone-crushing hug. Then she took a deep sniff of Dru’s hair and let her go.

  “Um,” Dru said. She wanted to say, Did you just sniff my hair? But she already had too much weirdness on her plate to deal with any more.

  She backed away, grabbed her purse, and headed out. Just as she stepped outside, Rane called to her again.

  “D.”

  That one syllable was loaded with emotion. Rane stood alone in the center of the garage, hugging herself. She set her lips in a thin line. “If he wakes up, gets violent? This could get freakishly ugly, fast.”

  “Uglier than now?”

  “You haven’t had to put down a demon before.” Rane hesitated. “I have.”

  Put down a demon. The words echoed in Dru’s mind, chilling her.

  The haunted look in Rane’s eyes made it absolutely clear what she meant. If Dru couldn’t find a way to cure Greyson, he might never leave this garage alive.

  13

  SHADES OF GREYSON

  Dru stood in the doorway, torn. She needed to leave, but she also needed to be here. In case Greyson broke loose and everything went to hell.

  Leaving was too risky, she decided. Greyson’s life was at stake. And possibly Rane’s, if she couldn’t handle him.

  Feeling like she couldn’t win, Dru came back inside and inspected Greyson’s chains again. She figured they’d hold if the demon woke up. But she’d been wrong before. “Okay, change of plans. Whatever the cursed artifact is that’s doing this, we need to find it. Fast. Let’s tear this place apart.”

  Rane cracked her knuckles. “All right.”

  Dru put a cautioning hand on her arm. “I don’t mean that literally.”

  “Hey, you want to save his soul? You work your way. I’ll work mine.” Rane pulled a box of rusty parts off a shelf and dumped it out on the floor with a deafening crash.