“Are you willing to take that chance?” Greg looked me in the face. “Is she worth it?”
“I don’t know, and yes, I’m willing. Now either come with me or get out of the way. And Lilith, get your immortal tookus up here. I need a little pick-me-up.” She came up beside me and gave me a sultry gaze. “Hold the smolder, appetizer. I just need the blood.”
She pouted a little. “You’re no fun when you’re being all heroic, little vampire.”
“Maybe after I save the world, get the girl and ride off into the sunrise we can play a different game. But for right now, give me your arm, please.” She stretched out her wrist to me, and I drank. Not a tentative sip like the last time, but a full gulp of immortal blood. I saw the look on Greg’s face, and it mirrored the fear in my gut. I didn’t want to end up a slave to an eternal succubus for the rest of my potentially very long life, but I had to get in there and rescue Sabrina. I’d gotten her into this mess, and if it took the end of my free will to get her out of it, well so be it.
The power of ages crashed over me like a wave, and I could feel the sensation of it rolling through me. I could almost feel myself getting taller (the last thing I needed) and stronger (the intended result) and even sexier (a new sensation altogether). I drank for a few seconds, and let her go, feeling more alive than I ever had when I was alive. One step toward the gym and I knew the consecration was weakened. It was now or never.
I looked at Greg and said, “You might want to top off the tank, too, old buddy. I think we’re gonna need it. Now is not the time to stand on principle.”
Then I pushed past him and headed up the stairs into the church gymnasium to fight the demon that had kidnapped my maybe-someday-if-I-get-really-lucky girlfriend. I wasn’t certain which was least likely—besting the demon or winning the girl.
Chapter 32
The gym looked like a cross between Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the lame movie, not the badass TV show) and Vacation Bible School. There were prom-style decorations from 1993, glittery letters and bunting strung all around the gym, and cheap poster-board signs over booths with slogans like “Bobbing for Salvation,” and “Baptismal Dunking Booth.” I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at the crazy attempt to de-monsterize Halloween, and felt no small irony that a couple of monsters were crashing the party trying to save the children of parents who would most likely lead the pitchfork party if they knew we existed.
My attention quickly locked on to our friendly neighborhood demon summoning taking place right at center court. The bun-headed lady from the forest was standing in the middle of a glowing circle, and there were a dozen little girls playing ring-around-the-psycho. The kids all faced out, and they all had the same glowing eyeball thing going on as the first bunch we rescued. The kids ranged in age from high-school girls down to one kid that looked barely old enough to go to middle school, but that wasn’t the worst part.
No, the worst part was Sabrina. She was floating over the center of the circle, a good ten feet in the air over the bun-headed woman, and it looked like a rope of energy was flowing from each of the kids up to where she floated. As we watched, Bun-head twisted her hand in the air, and Sabrina turned in the air until she was looking straight at us. Her hands extended to the sides and her feet crossed at the ankles in a grotesque mockery of a crucifixion, and the look on her face was pure agony. I took one look at her writhing in pain and launched myself at the witch.
I flew a good twenty feet, landed and took another huge leap, crashing right into the invisible wall of the circle. I slid down to the floor like the coyote in one of those old cartoons, and heard the witch laugh maniacally as I lay crumpled on the hardwood floor. I heard several loud cracks like handclaps and looked up to see Greg shooting at Bun-head and screaming something that I couldn’t hear through the ringing in my ears and the chirping of those imaginary birdies that were circling my head. The witch kept laughing as the bullets bounced harmlessly to the ground.
“Did you morons really think you could come in here and stop me that easily?” she asked, as she started to glow herself. The energy from the twelve kids was passing through Sabrina and down into Bun Lady, making her eyes glow and her hair unravel.
“Well, I kinda hoped,” I said from where I lay on the floor. “Since our frontal assault didn’t work, I don’t suppose you have a better idea?” The last was to Greg, who had stopped shooting when it became apparent that he was doing no good.
“I got nothing, bro,” he replied.
I tried to come up with something, but between the throbbing in my face from crashing into the circle and the nausea in my gut from being on holy ground, it was getting pretty hard to think.
Bun-head began to chant in some arcane language. The lights coming from the little girls glowed brighter, and Sabrina screamed as the flow of power through her became unbearable.
I beat on the barrier and yelled at Greg for help to get her out of there. “Salt!”
He tossed a fistful at the circle, but it bounced off like everything else we threw at it. “No good!” he said. “The circle is complete and only the caster or someone stronger can break it.”
I didn’t care about the reasons it wasn’t working. I didn’t care about anything except that the one living person I’d felt any connection to in a couple decades was on the other side of that magic barrier about to be possessed by a serious bad guy while I was stuck on the outside, unable to do anything about it.
Then Sabrina started to spin, and the light flowing through her started to go supernova. The faster she spun, the brighter she glowed, and the louder she screamed. Bun-head chanted in the unfamiliar language as the ground beneath her began to glow in answer to the light pouring down out of Sabrina. The glowing bands of energy started off white, but shifted to red. Then I noticed the kids in the circle starting to change.
There was no way this was going to end well.
Chapter 33
The only word I have for what the kids turned into was demon. I don’t know if there’s a better word, or if there’s some type of hierarchy of Hell that I’m offending with my oversimplification, but when I see a four-foot-tall thing with red skin, horns and a spiky tail where a little girl stood a couple of minutes before, demon is the word that leaps to mind, and I don’t care what the ACLU has to say about racial profiling.
I was still kneeling on the floor when the herd of demons broke loose from the magical circle and charged me and my partner. I was trying to figure out how to beat the demons without hurting the little kids probably still trapped inside, when Greg stepped up beside me and, without hesitation, shot the nearest monster right between the eyes. It flew backward into the circle and lay still. I tried to process that my partner, the vegan vampire who wouldn’t even feed off bunnies, hadn’t given a rat’s ass whether or not a little girl was still inside the demon.
“I have a few issues left over from being tossed naked into the girl’s locker room in sixth grade. I’ve decided to think of this as therapy.” He turned faster than anyone but another vampire could follow and dropped another pair of demon girls before they could close on us.
“Dude! That was almost thirty years ago!” I yelled as I kicked a little girl across the gym.
“Some wounds take a long time to heal, man.” He plugged another kid, and I started to worry. This was too easy. The demon children were dying just like any human, only redder, with the pointy extremities I’d expected from evil minions.
Apparently I was right, because that’s when three of the demons got to me at the same time. I took one by the throat, and fended another off with the other arm, but the third one jumped on my back and bit the side of my neck.
I hate irony.
I bludgeoned the second kid with the first one, and tossed them both to the far side of the room. The kid-thing on my back was really beginning to annoy me. I reached over my shoulder and grabbed a handful of demon hair. It took a couple of tugs, but the little brat finally came loose from my neck, and I pitched he
r over to join her friends beneath one of the basketball goals.
I drew my Glock and started plugging away at demon children, who apparently weren’t bulletproof, just annoying. For every demon that I managed to kill, an unconscious little girl appeared in its place. I didn’t understand the transformation, didn’t have time to ask anyone who would know, and frankly didn’t care all that much. All I knew was that if I shot them in the head enough times, they stopped trying to gnaw out my spleen. And since I’m uncharacteristically fond of my spleen, shooting them in the face seemed like the best option available.
After a few minutes of shooting, Greg and I were the only monsters left standing, and with the little demon girls taken care of, we returned our attention to Bun-head and whatever hell she was trying to raise.
“Oh crap. This is not good,” I muttered when I saw what was going on at center court.
“I think we’re gonna need a bigger gun,” Greg said.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
“I think Hell is exactly what that is, bro.”
That was a huge beast spinning slowly in the air where Sabrina had been floating barely a minute before. It was at least twelve feet tall, with long curving black horns protruding from a bony forehead that looked like a cross between a wolf and a huge bull’s head. The monster had arms the size of pine trees, with foot-long claws at the ends of hands the size of Christmas hams. Its legs were human in shape, but bigger around than my waist. It had bare feet with three claws in front and one backward-facing claw, all razor sharp and shiny in the red light. Its skin was red like the little demons, and it had a double row of teeth that glinted as it smiled down at Bun-head. The demon stopped revolving and floated slowly to the floor directly in front of Bun-Head, then smiled down at her with a hundred pointed teeth.
The voice that came out of the demon made my skin crawl. “You have done well, my daughter. Now shed that weak mortal shell and assume your rightful shape.”
As we watched, Bun-Head morphed into a female version of the beast. I could tell it was female because it wasn’t terribly modest about hiding the eight teats that hung grotesquely off its chest.
“Dude,” I whispered to Greg. “Where’s Sabrina?”
“Dude,” he answered, “I think the big thing is what Sabrina turned into.”
“I was really afraid you were going to say something like that.” I looked around for the cavalry I knew wasn’t coming, drew my backup piece with my left hand, and stepped in front of the beasties. “Hey, assface!” I yelled.
Both of them turned toward me, and I yelled, “Where’s the girl, dental nightmare?”
The big one looked down at me. “More minions? Good? I was looking for a snack. I appreciate the tasty virgins you gathered for me. In thanks for your loyal service, I shall kill you quickly.”
The female formerly known as Bun-head whispered something to Baal, and he turned to me and grinned. “Never mind. Belial says that you were no help at all. That means I get to play with you a while before I kill you.”
Baal stepped out of the remnants of the circle, and I felt the floor shake with his weight. The glowing magical barrier winked out of existence, and there was nothing standing between me and a monster straight out of my childhood nightmares except about twenty feet of faintly brimstone-scented gymnasium air. Whoever first wrote that high school was hell had no idea just how right they were.
“Greg, you got any bright ideas?” I asked without taking my eyes off the demons in front of me.
“You take the big one, and I’ll fight the one with all the boobs?” He sounded about as scared as I felt. Neither of us wanted to show it.
“You only want to fight the chick so you can cop a feel and claim you got to second base.”
“Yeah, but that would give me a score in a new decade, so I’d be ahead of you.” He fired off a clip at Belial’s head and then launched himself at the demon. I was amazed to see that he actually knocked her off her feet. I began to think we might have a shot at surviving this after all.
Then I took stock of Baal. As an opponent he was a couple of feet taller and a couple hundred pounds heavier, with muscles in places I was pretty sure I didn’t have places. I hoped Greg had enough sense to run like hell when Baal killed me.
“All right, tall dark and drooling, let’s do this.” I emptied my backup into his kneecaps, and wasn’t surprised when he didn’t even flinch. Had to try.
I drew my big knife and jumped at the monster, and a second later found myself looking up at a disco ball hanging from the gym ceiling. “Ooooh. Pretty.”
Next I saw a massive clawed foot rushing at my head. I rolled to the side before Baal could stomp my head flatter than a fast-food hamburger. His claws dug deep into the hardwood, and all I could think was I am not picking up the tab for refinishing that. I kept rolling and he kept stomping until I finally ran out of floor. I expected to feel my brains squirt out my ears at any moment.
This was where we’d find out if pancaking a vampire head is just as good as a decapitation. His foot came rushing down. I’ll admit it—I closed my eyes. I couldn’t handle the thought of watching my death come in the form of a size forty-eight bunion.
But no squashing happened, just a huge crash a few feet away and a bellow that literally shook the rafters. A volleyball that had to have been wedged up there for at least five years came down and landed next to me, flat and dusty. I opened my eyes, and when I didn’t see a demon getting ready to step on me, I sat up and almost wished I hadn’t.
Chapter 34
Greg had beaten Belial down pretty hard, but she was fighting back and they were slugging it out at one end of the gym. But the bigger, better weird show was center court, with a glowing sword in his hands. Baal was down on one knee a quarter of the court away, glaring at Phil with glowing red eyes.
“What are you doing, Zepheril? You’re one of us!” shouted the demon, and I could feel the heat from his breath all the way across the gym. I could smell his breath, too. Baal seriously needed to reevaluate his dental-hygiene regimen.
“No matter what I’ve done, I never have been, and never will be one of you, demon.”
The way he said demon was like it was the vilest curse he could throw at something. And maybe to him it was. I’d never seen Phil like that—his wings were unfurled to their full width, at least twelve feet tip to tip, and he wore a kind of armor that almost glowed. It looked old, like a flickering light bulb trying to come on that didn’t quite have the juice. His sword, which had hung at his side looking normal in my apartment, had grown to about six feet in length, with a huge hilt and a blade that was blinding white to look at.
Baal glared at him, and after a long minute said, “So be it, angel. Prepare to meet your little God again.” And he spread wings of his own, gigantic bat wings that I would have sworn weren’t there a few minutes ago, and soared towards Phil with his claws out and teeth bared.
Phil flew back at him, and for a few moments all I could see was the flash of the blade and claws, they moved so fast. Then my attention shifted over to the corner of the room where Greg and Belial were still fighting. She was holding Greg up with one hand and beating his face in with the other. I took a running jump and grabbed Belial’s arm and spun her around. She dropped Greg and backhanded me. I stumbled backward, but caught myself and spun into her with a right cross that came from my heels.
Maybe the little nibble I had of Lilith did make me stronger, because Belial flew clear across the gym before crashing into the bleachers against the far wall. I shifted my attention to Greg, who was getting to his feet gingerly. He looked like you’d expect a vampire to look after being used as a sparring partner by a demoness—like a bag of crap.
I crossed the gym to within a safe distance of Belial. “Where’s Sabrina?”
“You mean the police tramp?” She hissed at me from what looked like a broken jaw.
Good. I hoped it hurt. A lot. “Yeah, her.”
“She’s gone, vampire.
Gone like the idiot woman that drew me to this plane. She was my final sacrifice to bring my father to this world. You’ve lost, now. Give up. Die like the sheep you are.”
“Baa-Baa, bitch,” I said, and I emptied the clip on my Glock into her face hoping that enough silver bullets in a small space would be enough to send her back to Hell. Finally, after all seventeen rounds lodged in her frontal lobe, she dropped like a rock. “Looks like those silver bullets work after all.” I put a fresh clip in the pistol and turned back to where Baal and Phil had been duking it out in the Main Event.
The angel and the demon were breathing heavily, both looking the worse for wear. Phil had blood oozing from a gash on his side, and there was a hole in his shoulder where it looked like Baal had pierced him with a claw. Baal only had one wing left, and it was hanging in tatters. They were circling warily, each probing the other’s defenses. Now and then one would take a cautious swipe with claw or sword.
Phil noticed me out of the corner of his eye and nodded to me slightly. I saw him trying to maneuver around so that Baal would be between him and me, so I could get a clear shot, but Baal just stood in the middle of the gym and laughed.
“It will be a cold day below when you can lead me into that trap, Zepheril.” The monster chuckled.
“It was worth a try, demon,” the angel replied, a wry smile on his lips.
“Why are you helping these mortals, Zepheril? You’ve always sided with the winners before now. You know that only the strongest survive, so why are you throwing in with these weak sacks of meat?”
“I picked the wrong side once, Baal. If I’ve been given the opportunity to correct that mistake, I’ll not let it go by.”
I flashed back to Sunday School and realized they were talking about the war in Heaven, the big one where Lucifer and all his angel buddies were tossed out after trying to lead a revolution.
The Black Knight Chronicles Page 17