“Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” said Cain. “An’ it looks like they’re on our trail.”
“So where are they?” asked Tessa, magical energy beginning to swirl around her moving fingers.
“Closing in.”
I pressed my back against the building and stared up at the rooftops, trying to get another glimpse of the shadow that had jumped over us before. I moved towards the building’s corner, where I could hear a faint chittering sound. Once I reached the edge, I slowly looked around and saw six glowing red eyes set against a black, furry head about the size of my torso, with giant mandibles attached.
I jumped back, falling to the ground as I started shooting. I couldn’t see anything in the chaos, but I heard the anansi shriek. All I could do was keep pulling the trigger until the barrels were empty. The gun clicked impotently a few more times before I lowered it and looked at the spot where it had been.
My heart was pounding and my mouth was dry. I could feel the sweat on my brow and wiped what seemed like a massive amount of it from my face. Slowly, I stood, still staring at the empty alley where the anansi had been.
“W-What the hell?” I asked, then glared at Cain. “How come no one told me there were giant fucking spiders in Purgatory?”
“Weren’t you just making fun of Cain for arachnophobia?” asked Tessa.
“Did you see that thing? That’d give anyone nightmares!”
“Even worse is that it got away,” said Cain. “Look.”
I hadn’t managed to hit the damn thing. “So either my aim is shit or they’re fast.”
“Oh yeah, real fast,” said Cain. “I’d reload that thing if I were you.”
I did as he said, opening the chamber and letting the empty shells spill out onto the street. I took a speedloader from my coat and slammed it into place, releasing the live rounds, and with a flick of my wrist, the chamber snapped shut.
The chittering came from all around us, growing louder and coming from every direction. In the darkness, I could see the glow of multiple sets of eyes. They closed off every exit from the alley, boxing us in. Running wasn’t going to be an option, not here at least. I raised my gun, pointing it down one alley. A glance over my shoulder confirmed Cain was at my back, pointing down the other. To my side, I saw Asmodeus gripping a sword with a red, flaming blade forged from hellfire. And at the other side, electricity coursed down Tessa’s arms, forming into lightning orbs in her palms.
“Now!” screamed Cain.
The alley erupted with the deafening sound of gunfire as Cain and I pulled our triggers. The alley lit up blue as Tessa directed lighting at the anansi up above us. That was countered with a red flash for every time Asmodeus’ blade connected with one of the beasts.
I moved down the alley, continuing to unload my rounds into the anansi. It forced them back and as I continued to press forward, I looked down to see one of the bodies. Green blood oozed from its wounds.
The gun was empty again. I quickly reloaded with a fresh speedloader and opened fire again before the anansi had a chance to advance back on me. I chanced a look behind me and saw that the others were still doing their part. Tessa looked to have fried most of the ones above us, and Cain was doing a good job forcing the others down the opposite alley. From this angle, I couldn’t see Asmodeus, but the flashes of red light confirmed he was still fighting.
The chittering came from above, and by the time I looked up, an anansi fell right on top of me. One of its massive legs jammed into my arm, pinning it to the ground. I screamed as I felt the deep piercing in my flesh, keeping me from using my gun.
The anansi stared down at me with angry, burning eyes. Its mandibles snapped and I moved my head to the side, barely avoiding becoming its next meal. The damn thing stunk like death. It came in for another shot and I moved my head again, but the pincer grazed my cheek nonetheless.
I braced my hand against the spider’s head, trying to keep it from making another go at tearing off my face. Inside me, the demon wanted out. I could feel it bubbling to the surface and could see the glow of my eyes landing on the anansi’s fur. He wanted out. I had to keep him buried. Damn thing was difficult enough to control out in the real world. But down here, he would run wild. I’d be locked away in a cage deep inside my own body, no way of escaping.
“Aduro!” I shouted, and flames flowed from my palm. The anansi pulled away, trying to shake off the flames that caught on its fur. Unfortunately, its leg was still stuck in my arm, and as it jerked away, it pulled me with it.
Nice one, Luther. Would’ve been good for you to think of that first. I had just assumed the bastard would pull its leg out of me first, but I guess that was hoping for too much.
I was thrown around as the anansi flailed in a panic to extinguish the fire, pulling me from the alley and into the street. In one moment when I had a chance, I drew my knife and reached over. The anansi could feel as I started to cut into its leg, because it shrieked again and its mandibles closed in. I concentrated my strength, cutting through the thick appendage.
The blade went through and the anansi pulled away, green blood spilling onto the street. I stayed there on one knee and dropped the knife on the ground. My fingers wrapped around the severed limb and I pulled with all my might, my teeth gritted so hard I thought they might crack.
The limb came out of my wound and I dropped it on the ground. I picked up my knife as the anansi limped back towards me, flames still tickling its hide. If it was gonna go out, it wanted to take me with it. Couldn’t say I blamed the ugly dude.
The anansi lunged and I rolled underneath its body. I jammed the blade into its body and pulled it back, scurrying across the asphalt. The anansi wailed as its guts poured out onto the street. I pulled the knife out and rolled away, watching as the anansi crumbled to the ground.
I sighed and looked down at myself. Some splash-back, but I’d managed to avoid most of it. The blade was coated in the green muck, though. I started to bring it towards my nose, but before it got anywhere close, the smell already overpowered me and I jerked my arm back down. My injured arm hung uselessly at my side, the pain still burning.
“Okay, I think I earned a five-minute breather after that.”
I realized that no one responded. I looked around and saw that the others were nowhere to be seen. Not even the other anansi were still here. I ran back into the alley. As soon as I got there, I saw nothing. No Tessa, no Cain—hell, at that point, I would’ve been happy to see Asmodeus.
But they were gone. And what was more, it didn’t look like they’d even been there. The bodies of the anansi I’d managed to shoot were gone. There were no empty shells on the ground. Not a single scorch mark on the walls from Tessa’s lightning.
I walked through the alley, trying to retrace my steps. I remembered where we had been when the anansi first attacked. I continued moving down the alley, but quickly, I found myself lost. Had I even been in this alley before? Did I take a wrong turn somewhere?
I turned around to go back the way I’d come, but the same thing happened. Once more, trying to retrace my steps only seemed to get me even more lost.
So, that was an interesting twist on things. Not only had I gotten separated from my team, but now I was lost somewhere in Purgatory. And something told me I wouldn’t get very good cell reception out here.
16
Okay, Luther. Let’s just examine this situation with a calm, objective eye. You came into Purgatory with the world’s first murderer, a demon you barely trust, and a witch in way over her head. After being attacked by some big-ass spiders, you find you’ve been completely separated from the rest of the group.
Now you’re stuck. Any attempts to try and go back the way you came only got you even more lost. So just what the hell are you supposed to do? How do you find your way through Purgatory when you don’t know the rules of this place?
First thing’s first. Gotta find a place to hole up and see about healing these wounds. Wasn’t much sense in venturing too far away
if it was only going to mean slowly bleeding death. Assuming I even could die while I was here—no one had really been clear on that part.
I wasn’t too keen to find out. I came out the alley and back onto the street. Was this the same street as before, where I killed the anansi? I really had no idea. If it was, the spider’s body had vanished. More than likely, I’d somehow fallen into another area of the world.
Purgatory seemed to be in a constant state of flux, always changing so no one could really find their way through here. Made me wonder just how Cain had been able to navigate through this place.
We hadn’t gone into the buildings since we got here, but now seemed as good a time as any. I wondered just what sort of things were inside. I ascended the steps to an apartment building and kicked open the door. The rotted wood gave way easy, the lock breaking right off.
There were stairs leading up, so I climbed all the way to the fifth floor, the highest in the building. If I was going to be stuck in here for a while, I at least wanted a good vantage point to see what possible threats might come my way.
The fifth-floor landing had two doors on either side. I went for the one on the right, kicking open the door again. And again, it opened without issue. I walked inside the apartment. The door opened right into a kitchen with a table and chairs. There were empty food containers scattered on the table. The refrigerator door hung open, the light somehow still on. I peeked inside and shut the door right away. Whatever had been in there had probably grown legs and wandered off.
There were dirty dishes stacked in the sink and the garbage can was overflowing with trash. Cabinets had been thrown open as if someone had gone through them in a hurry. I checked a few of them, but didn’t find anything of note.
I turned from the kitchen. There was an adjoining living room. To the left, a short hall leading to two doors—no doubt the bathroom and bedroom. I walked into the living room and saw a beat-up couch in the center of the room. The cushions had several tears in them, with stuffing poking out. An old, stained coffee table was in front of it. There was an old rear-projection TV with a broken screen. And beyond that, windows looking out onto the street.
I pulled aside the stained curtains and looked out. There wasn’t anyone—or anything—out there. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said I was the last man in Purgatory.
I went to the bathroom and opened the broken mirror door on the medicine cabinet. There was an old comb with only a few of the teeth left, a straight razor, and an empty prescription bottle. I checked under the sink. No first aid kit there, either. I sighed and looked down at my clothes.
Well, who needed an overcoat in Purgatory, anyway? Even if it was a nice one. Besides, as good as my dry-cleaner was, I didn’t think even he could get anansi blood out.
I went back to the living room and took off my overcoat, followed by my suit jacket, shoulder-holster, and finally, my shirt and tie. I cringed as I moved and turned my arm so I could get a better look at it. The anansi’s leg had gone right through it. Strangely, it didn’t seem to be bleeding a whole lot. Didn’t know if that was because of Purgatory or something else.
I sat down on the couch and hovered my hand over the wound. I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths to try and calm my nerves and channel my energy. I placed a finger just above the wound and drew a circle around it. Inside the circle, I made a few more swipes of my finger. No visible mark was left on my skin, but this little technique helped me visualize a sigil of healing.
I kept that visual in my mind, concentrating my thoughts on it, clearing my head of everything else. Sigils were a way of focusing your energy. The sigil acted as a symbol for your intention, and having that kind of focus on it allowed the energy to flow without being distracted by a wandering mind.
I opened my eyes and looked at the wound. Already, it had begun to close up. Feeling started to come back to my arm, and I was able to move it again. I picked up my coat and dagger, cutting off a strip of the cloth. This would have to serve as a makeshift bandage. I wrapped it around the wound and tied it, making it tight enough to put the right pressure on, but not so tight that it would cut off circulation.
I lay down on the couch, looking at the symbols tattooed on my chest and arms. Enochian script, sigils, symbols of magic—it was hard to find a spot on my upper body that wasn’t tattooed. They served a purpose, though. These tattoos acted as wards.
Being a cambion meant I couldn’t be possessed by a demon—already got one inside me, after all. But the wards could keep me hidden from most supernatural beings and offered protection against other types of intrusion, like mind control or spirit possession. And it also prevented any unwanted transformations, in case I ever ran up against a vampire or werewolf with designs on turning me into one of them.
They weren’t bulletproof, though. Someone powerful enough could still track me down. Possibly even possess me. I’d never tested the limits of these markings, and I had no desire to.
I wondered if that could have something to do with why I was lost. Maybe breaking apart from the group, these wards on my body somehow kept me hidden from the others. Like I’d been made invisible to them. It was the only thing that started to make sense, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that couldn’t be true. If it were, why had I been hidden from them and not the anansi?
Ah, Purgatory. I was really starting to hate you.
Best to take stock. I sat up and drew the revolver from the holster lying on the ground. Inside the chamber were four rounds. I snapped it shut and set the gun on the coffee table. Looking for my suit jacket, I pulled the speedloaders from the inside pocket. I had four left. So just under thirty bullets in total. In a place like this, they probably wouldn’t last long.
I took the dagger from the coffee table and examined it. Like the gun, it was lined with Enochian script. Forged of iron and silver, dipped in holy water. And, unlike the gun, it never ran out of bullets. But it required me to get closer than I liked. Still, it would have to do.
I still had another thing going for me—my demonic-enhanced strength, and my magic. Whenever I used it, though, the demon got restless, so I didn’t want to push myself too hard with the spell-casting unless I had to.
Fatigue was starting to set in, so I stood up from the couch—taking the knife with me—and walked over to the bedroom. I pushed the door open with the knife and peered inside. The room was empty except for an overturned dresser and an old, stained mattress with a spring sticking out of it.
“Guess I’ll take the couch…”
When I turned from the bedroom, I was met by two strangers. Both of them were tall and wearing dark suits with sunglasses. They had pale skin—almost albino-pale—and wore black leather gloves. One of them was bald, not a speck of hair on his head. The other was the opposite. He sported a full head of hair, tied in a ponytail, and a beard that covered half his neck.
I held the knife in a reverse-grip and got into a fighting stance. Even with my arm still healing, if these bastards wanted a fight, I was damn-sure gonna give them one they wouldn’t soon forget.
But the fight never came. The two men just remained there, hands neatly clasped in front of them. They both turned their heads to look at each other, and then looked back at me. In unison, they cocked their heads to the side, examining me as if I were some sort of freak.
“Dear, dear, this one seems quite agitated, Mr. Grant,” said the hairy guy.
“I concur, Mr. Moore. I concur,” said the bald one.
I moved out of the fighting stance and held the knife in a regular grip, but I still clutched it tightly while I eyed the two strangers with suspicion. “Who the hell are you two?”
“This virile Adonis is the esteemed Mr. Moore,” said Grant, gesturing to his partner.
“And this handsome specimen is the honorable Mr. Grant,” said Moore, repeating the gesture.
“Why, Mr. Moore, you flatter me, sir.”
“The same could be said of you, Mr. Grant. Truly, you are
a gentleman and a scholar, sir.”
“Oh, you are too kind, Mr. Moore. Too kind indeed.”
I blinked as I watched the two of them fawn over each other. For a moment, I thought I saw their pale cheeks blush red. “Hey, Wint and Kidd, knock it off, okay? Why don’t you cut to the chase and tell me what’s going on? And tell me what you’re doing in my—” I paused and looked around the room. Then, with a sigh, I said, “home.”
“But this is not your home, Mr. Cross. And that is the problem, isn’t it, Mr. Moore?”
“Quite right, Mr. Grant. As always.”
Grant and Moore walked closer, their footsteps in perfect sync with each other. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, they were standing right in front of me. I reacted, raising the knife defensively, but they each held up a hand in a gesture for me to stop.
And somehow, I did. What were these weirdos doing to me? Was this some kind of psychic influence?
“You see, Mr. Cross, we know from whence you came,” said Moore.
“And we know you are lost,” said Grant.
“How do you know my name? I don’t remember telling you.”
“There is much we know—” said Grant.
“—And much more we do not,” finished Moore. “But the one thing you need to know, Mr. Cross, is that you do not belong here. Would you not agree, Mr. Grant?”
“Enthusiastically so, Mr. Moore,” said Grant. “You see, Mr. Cross, we know you are indeed Mr. Cross.”
“Not to be confused with the other Mr. Cross.”
Grant chuckled. “Oh, no. Certainly not.”
“Other Mr. Cross?” I asked. “Who do you—you can’t mean my father. His name wasn’t Cross.”
“There is a certain…symmetry in it, don’t you think, Mr. Moore?” asked Grant.
“Ah, yes, quite,” said Moore. “The son of a demon bearing the cross.”
“But that is neither here nor there,” said Grant. “What we are here to tell you, Mr. Cross, is that you should leave this place.”
Devil's Descent (Luther Cross Book 2) Page 11