by Lily Luchesi
When the herd was thinned, the demons began to use their telekinetic powers, and Mark was the first to fall victim, pinned to third base and gasping for breath.
With an intensity Danny easily recognized, Brighton was on the attack, cutting deep into the demon closest to his fiancé, cursing as the heavy demonic aura lifted from Mark’s small frame.
Angelica was finding it hard to move as well, though she was managing better than Mark was. She was digging her heels into the dirt, mucking up her leather boots. Danny stood behind her, hoping that he and Brighton’s powers would allow them to withstand this enough to finish them off. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and he saw Brighton stumble as he helped Mark up.
“Mark is hurt!” Brighton cried, feeling the back of Mark’s head. Danny saw that he had one Hell of a concussion from his fall.
“Can you two handle this? I have an idea, and I’ll get Mark to safety till I’ve got everything settled. A warning for you: I can’t come back on the field if my idea doesn’t pan out,” Angelica said.
“Yeah, we can do it, right Mancini?” Brighton said, passing Mark over to Angelica.
She turned to leave, and a few demons surrounded her, all of whom she decapitated with one swift flick of her sword, leaving the dispelling to the others. Heads were rolling everywhere like overgrown ground balls, eyes and mouths still moving.
“Well, that’s pleasant,” Brighton muttered. Suddenly his head snapped to the side as if he had been hit and his body hit the ground, a heavy wave of demonic energy pinning him. Danny sprang forward and killed two more, fighting against the invisible onslaught, but he was soon caught as well, pressed against the ivy.
One of the demons, possessing a girl who couldn’t have been older than twelve, flicked her wrist and the ivy began to move, tangling into his arms and legs, tightening. A thick vine went around his throat, starting to cut off airflow.
Oh, damn it, I can’t die being choked by a fucking plant, he thought, just as the overhead lights turned on, lighting the stadium up as if it were a game night.
“Attention Cubbies, this game looks like it’s going to be a washout!” Angelica’s voice called over the loudspeakers as the sprinklers turned on. The demons started smoking, as if hot water had been poured over ice. They began to scream and writhe on the ground, and as they did, both Danny and Brighton were released from their invisible confines.
“Now, guys!” Angelica said, still coming from the loudspeaker.
Thoroughly soaked through and still dizzy, both psychics grabbed their weapons and proceeded to easily destroy each demon one by one, as the holy water from the sprinklers burned through their skin like acid. Danny could see muscle and bone showing through in many spots, and he took a moment to grieve for the wounded and deceased humans whom they had possessed. This was one Hell of a way to die, having your skin eaten away while a demon was controlling your body.
When every last demon had been killed, the sprinklers were turned off and Danny and Brighton went to the back, where Mark looked fully healed and Angelica was leaning against the wall with a shit-eating grin on her face.
“Mancini, your girlfriend is brilliant,” Brighton said as Mark threw himself into his arms.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Danny said, as Angelica took a few steps back.
“No offense, guys, but don’t touch me.” She held her hands up, checking that the holy water hadn’t dripped too close to her. “That was Hell.”
“Pun intended?” Danny asked, shaking the water out of his hair.
“Not to mention the damages I have to pay for. They couldn’t have picked Cellular Field to destroy?” She sighed. “Leander isn’t wasting time. He wants to escalate this to a war? He’s got one. I’ll be at home, Danny. You need to change your clothes and shower here, or else I won’t be able to stay at your house in the near future.”
She was gone, leaving at vampire speed, and Brighton just had to have the last word: “Man, you almost just got cut off for eternity!”
Chapter Eleven
Danny was filing reports (the worst part about being in law enforcement, in his opinion) while Angelica worked at her desk. After the fight the night before, she was looking for an increase in demonic activity, but it looked as if infernal energy presences were at an all-time low. It made no sense to Danny.
Angelica’s computer beeped, making them both jump. “Video call,” she murmured. “From Scotland Yard? This must be important.”
“Can you be seen on a webcam?” Danny asked, wishing he could take the words back as soon as he said them.
Angelica gave him a glare. “Don’t be an ass.” She clicked a button, turning the computer so that Danny could see as well. A handsome man with dark hair streaked with silver appeared on the screen. He reminded Danny a little of himself when he was a detective: exhausted, frustrated, and with too much on his plate at one time.
“Miss Cross. Always good to see you,” the man greeted.
She smiled. “And you, sir. This is Detective Mancini. Danny, this is Detective Inspector Linwood, the PID’s liaison in London. To what do I owe the pleasure, Inspector?”
For the life of him, Danny could not remember ever hearing Angelica speak to someone with such respect for their authority. She was the boss, and she let people know it.
“Two things, one of which is for you. The library that Leander and the others used to use was condemned some time ago. I had never really thought to search it before, because Leander and the others had taken what was needed from it before they all vacated the premises. The city decided they want to tear it down to build some piece of shit, a bank or something, so I wanted to take a last look about the place, just in case there was something relevant to the reason you confiscated Mark and Brighton from us here in London.” He grinned briefly. Looking down at his desk, he held up a page of a book that looked positively ancient. Danny couldn’t read any of it.
“What’s that language?” he asked.
“Hebrew,” Angelica replied. “Have you anyone who can read that for us, Inspector? I can barely read ten words in Hebrew.”
“Already taken care of. It talks about demonic contracts. Apparently, back in the times before Christ, the only way for witches to get their power was from making deals with Lucifer. In 893 AD, there is an annotation here which says that demonic contracts have one day a year when they are voided. All Souls Day. Every single contract has an exemption, and you need to find out what your Fiona’s is before November second.”
Angelica and Danny stared at each other in disbelief.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Angelica said, putting her hand to her forehead.
The inspector had the grace to look sheepish. “Wish I was, kid. I figured you’d need to know as soon as possible so you can get her before then. I just wish I’d discovered it sooner.”
Angelica made a note on a pad of paper that already looked jumbled with her handwriting. “Thank you, you might have just saved our asses. Now, what is the other thing?”
“Where are the aforementioned lovebirds?” he asked, meaning Brighton and Mark. “This is mostly for them.”
“I’ll patch them in. They left two hours ago.” Angelica did some typing, and a chat window popped up. Apparently Brighton wasn’t too happy with being interrupted, judging by the look on Angelica’s face. Finally, another video feed came on the screen. Brighton’s face showed up.
“What’s going on, Inspector?” Brighton asked, annoyed.
“Are you wearing a bloody sheet?” Linwood asked, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “Never mind. Is Mark with you?”
“He’s asleep. What is it?” Brighton asked.
Danny could not read people through a computer screen, but he could read expressions well, and the inspector looked like whatever he had to say was going to leave a sour taste in all their mouths. Dark eyes were thunderous, mouth was set, and jaw was working. Yep. They were not going to like his next statement.
“Peter Mabu
z is still alive.”
That statement meant nothing to Danny, and it looked to him that Angelica didn’t know who that was, either. Brighton, however, looked like he was doing an impression of the Edvard Munch Scream painting.
“Brighton?” Angelica asked. “Who is Peter Mabuz and why do you look terrified? I have known you for ten years and I have never seen you look this way. Talk!”
Danny could see Brighton visibly shake himself to right his emotions.
“Peter Mabuz is a vampire who terrorized London twice in the 1800s. Both times, Mark and I hunted him down to no avail. Our last encounter with him was…well, let’s just say I’d prefer not to recall it at the moment. Good Lord…I have to ask, are you sure it’s him?” Brighton asked, his bright eyes looking worried.
Linwood rolled his eyes. “It’s him. I’d recognize him anywhere.”
“You actually saw him?” Brighton cried.
Linwood nodded. “Caught ’im getting ready to find his prey. I had my holy water, but he didn’t get hit. Do you know what he did when he saw who I was? He winked at me! That little bastard fucking winked at me!”
“Peter Mabuz…” Angelica murmured. “How is it I don’t know about him?”
“He’s older than you are, Angelica,” Brighton said, his composure back in place. “Mark and I first encountered him in 1802. No one knows when he was made, though now I might be able to find out somehow. In any case, he is purely psychotic. He causes chaos simply because he enjoys it. He makes Vincent seem like a petty thief next to a serial killer.
“The last time we encountered him was in 1832, thirty years after our original meeting. We were only twenty and twenty-five, respectively, when he made his first appearance, and we were much more experienced when he came around again. I thought I had killed him. Apparently his throat wasn’t cut deep enough. Damn it!” Brighton punched the desk he was sitting at, making his video feed jump. “I’m waking up Mark and we’re coming to the office. Angelica, we have to go back to London. This is an old score I need to settle— permanently.”
She nodded. “I understand. Trust me, I understand. Inspector, can you stick around in case we need you again?”
“Sure. It’s not like it’s midnight here or anything,” Linwood joked.
Angelica put her computer on sleep mode, and turned toward Danny. “Do you think we can do this without them? As the boss, I can order them to stay, but I of all people do know how Brighton must feel right now.”
“While your empathy is going to be appreciated by Brighton, I think we can handle this. I might feel better having Brighton as backup and Mark taking care of things here, we both know they have to go back to London. However, this is not my decision to make. I do think we can handle Fiona without them, but like you said, you are the boss here. This is your decision, and whatever you choose I will stand by you,” Danny said.
She looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks. I’ve never doubted my abilities before, but now I am. I don’t like it, and that adds to the list of why I want Fiona dead. She makes me doubt myself.”
Brighton and a very sleepy Mark entered the room a few minutes later, as their hotel was close by. Mark’s hair was askew and his eyes were rimmed with dark circles. Danny caught a glimpse of his thoughts and immediately shut them out: he did not need to get a secondhand experience of just what Brighton had done to him to make him so sleepy!
“Mancini, if you can hear me, get Angelica to talk to Mark and Linwood alone.”
Danny jumped, wondering what that was till he saw Brighton glance his way. He nodded to him and said, “Angie, you and Linwood get Mark up to speed. Brighton and I will start bookings to get them back to London.”
Danny and Brighton left the room and Danny said, “You need to teach Mark to put some walls up. I’m slowly starting to see people’s thoughts, and his were very NSFW!” He sat down at another computer and started booking flights on the FBI’s account.
Brighton managed to chuckle at that. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, kind of. I now have no choice but to tell Mark about our past. I have never been so frightened in my life.”
Danny found a flight for ten that night and clicked on it as he spoke. “Fear is a part of love. You will always be afraid of losing the one you love, be it because they leave you or pass away. You have to fight that fear in order to prove your love is stronger than it.”
“This really isn’t my area,” Brighton admitted. “My area is more slicing necks than mending hearts. So, I’m going to go and make damn sure that I kill the evil bastard this time.”
Danny stood up, going to the printer. He handed Brighton confirmation of their flight. “Do it for Mark. For this life. That life you lived is the past, and you still haven’t come to terms with that,” he observed. “I can feel it. You need to get it all out in the open with Mark, and only then can you be past all of its tragedies and able to be happy in the here and now.”
Brighton took the papers and stared at them. “You’re a very good man, Mancini. Angelica is lucky to have you.”
“I’ll remind her of that,” Danny joked. “Come on. You’ve got a very small window of time to be at the airport.”
They went back into Angelica’s office, where Mark looked a little more awake and the Inspector was not on the video chat. Danny hoped he finally got to sleep!
Before they were in earshot, Danny turned to Mark and said, “Come on, now’s the time for full disclosure. What happened that you don’t want Mark to know? When I met him, I saw his past and that he was shot to death. Is that it? Is that what you don’t want him to remember? That he died so violently?”
“No.” Brighton was looking at his boyfriend with more love than Danny could have imagined that cold man was capable of. “I don’t want him to remember because I’m the one who killed him.”
***
“Well, this is inconvenient,” Danny commented, watching Mark and Brighton get into a taxi. He was still trying to wrap his head around Brighton’s admission earlier that evening.
Angelica rolled her eyes. “Daniel Mancini—the master of understatement. We now have an absentee deputy director, a director who can’t go out in daylight, and three days to go till All Souls Day when Fiona’s contract has its one exemption.”
“Huh. I guess asking you to go to a Halloween party with me would be in bad taste then?” Danny asked, grinning.
“Bite me,” she said, but his mirth made her smile as well.
“It’s that supposed to be my line?” he asked, taking her cold hand in his warm one.
She turned toward him, her hands running through his thick curls. “How the Hell is it possible that you manage to keep me from losing my mind? When everything might be falling apart, you manage to keep all this anger inside of me in check and make me smile.”
He put his hands on her waist, saying, “Because I have total faith that you can do this. I should be afraid, running away, and/or shitting my pants. I’m not afraid. And that’s because I know one thing for certain: no one and nothing can get past you. This might be entirely new territory for me, but I am trusting you to protect me.”
“Oh, Danny…I truly hope your trust isn’t misplaced,” she said, casting her eyes downwards.
“Hey, since when do you doubt yourself?” Danny asked. “That’s not the woman I know.”
“Since we’re facing the unknown. How can I be confident when I am metaphorically in the dark over this? Don’t put all your faith in me—I’m not a hero anymore. I am an amateur with Undead bloodlust, struggling to get my bearings in a world that was once safe and predictable. You should be more afraid of me than you are of Fiona,” Angelica admitted.
“I’m not afraid,” he repeated, his lips brushing her face, and then settling on her lips. “Let’s get to work.”
Angelica led him back into her office, turning her laptop and computer (of course she used two) off of sleep mode and checking the infernal energy radar.
Danny watched the red spots that indicat
ed demons or black magic and felt an involuntary chill run down his spine. There were nearly three million people living just in Chicago itself, and this map covered all of Cook County. In total, over five million humans were on this radar. Seeing the amount of evil energy popping up, threatening people, made his pulse race with fear. Children, the elderly, everyday Joes were in great peril from things that they could not even fathom. The PID was doing a wonderful job, but they were no match for the evil that had taken hold here.
Angelica must have seen him looking, because she said, “To think, these demons and witches are only a fraction of the evil here. They don’t touch the number of mortal child abusers and murderers that call this area home. No matter how much evil I manage to eradicate, more comes. And a lot of it is out of my jurisdiction because I can’t just go and cut a human’s heart out…more’s the pity.”
“I was tempted quite a bit when I was with the CPD. The shit I saw…Angie, it makes these demons seem like petty shoplifters. To see what I saw then makes chasing your father around town seem mundane,” Danny said.
She smirked. “Do you remember how much less mortal crime there was a hundred years ago?”
He nodded. He could clearly see the beautiful, mostly peaceful world of 1909. At this point, he would give anything to go back there.
Angelica had already dropped the subject and was writing frantically. Since she left Danny standing behind her, he looked over her shoulder and saw a lot of odd shorthand he couldn’t read.
“What is that? Looks like the code this computer programmer wrote on Halt and Catch Fire,” he commented.
“This is not code, you ass. I think better when I write out my thoughts and can look them over as if they were a report from an employee.” She gestured to the computer screen.
This was what the inside of Angelica’s mind was like? It was a jumble of words, symbols, conjecture, a few French words here and there, and very little actual sentences. It was quite unlike the intelligent and eloquent woman he knew. I would not want to be in her mind, he thought. I’m very glad I can’t read it!