by John Conroe
“Probably not,” I said. “Sometimes a human who gives themselves over to Hell is more useful if their soul is left in place. When I examined him after Stacia ripped his arm off, I could detect demonic taint, but it was very subtle, which is why I missed it the first time.”
“So he has some type of bond or connection to a demon?” Declan asked.
“I would think so. Maybe that demon whose name he keeps repeating,” I said.
“His eyes just rolled up in his head and he’s whispering what he heard the four of you say.”
“Bingo,” I said. “Now we just have to see if Declan’s plan works.”
“It doesn’t have to fully work, although that would be ideal,” the witch said. “As long as we insert a significant level of distrust.”
“Demons always distrust,” I said.
“Exactly,” he replied with a nod. “Hyperparanoia is built right into them and we’re just feeding it a rich diet.”
“You ready when Hell attempts to contact you?” Tanya asked.
“If they attempt and yes, I am,” he said. Stacia turned her head slowly toward him. “Er, I mean, we’re ready,” he amended.
“Oh, they will absolutely reach out to you,” I said. “They’ve wanted you as a weapon since you started helping with exorcisms.”
“But I’ve never budged an inch,” he said.
“Their hope springs eternal,” Tanya said.
“Hmm. I for one am hoping for a hot bath,” Stacia said. “Can we go home now?”
The Obliterator opened silently and just as silently, we all climbed in for the trip back to New York.
Chapter 8
“What’s our biggest threat—right now, right this moment?” Tanya asked as the drone slid through the air at a crazy speed.
“That the Vorsook or demons open a gate or gates on Earth,” Declan said.
“The gate closing technology that has worked so well for Oracle is now part of every drone in my fleet,” Omega said. “They might get one open, but I’ll get it closed very, very quickly.”
“Orbital bombardment,” I suggested.
“Near and dear to your heart,” my vampire said with a smirk.
“All dangerous near-space objects are being tracked by my off-planet assets and Father has been using the most dangerous as targets for his practice.”
“Infection by some Vorsook-designed disease or body snatcher crap like that black crud,” Declan said.
“We have large crops of the Fairie plant that counteracts the so-called black crud,” Omega said. “I have vast resources dedicated to monitoring world health organizations for any sign of any dangerous disease.”
“Sounds like we are locked up in fortress Omega,” Stacia said.
“Exactly right, wolf,” Tanya agreed. “But what has historically been the downfall of even the best and strongest of fortresses?”
“Betrayal by an insider?” I guessed.
“Bingo. Our biggest threat is from the people of this world—hence the Hellbourne breakouts we just dealt with,” my vampire said.
“But we just dealt with that one,” Declan said. “And Heaven even jumped in.”
“Yes, but how many more could there be?”
“Eight billion or so?” Stacia asked.
“Right again. Somehow, we have to plan for betrayers, particularly someone in power,” Tanya said.
“You’re saying one of our world leaders might throw humanity under the bus?” I asked.
“Of course. People, whether Darkkin, were, Fairie, or regular human, covet power. And when the have it, they are loath to relinquish it. They’ll lie, cheat, debase themselves, debase others, blackmail, and kill to protect it. Omega has stolen much of their thunder and now we threaten even more. There are many who would deal with the devil… or the Vorsook.”
I looked at my bride, surprised at how often she manages to surprise me.
“I am well aware of the human propensity for betrayal,” Omega said. “Be assured that I am on guard. There are several pro-Vorsook groups currently active.”
“Unbelievable,” Stacia said.
“Agreed. Human ability to self-deceive is a particularly trying trait for those of us looking to save you.”
“But Omega, even you can’t watch everyone, everywhere, all the time,” Tanya said. “The Vorsook specialize in finding the weak points in a defense and exploiting them. We, humans, are our own weak spot.”
“You have an idea?” I asked her. “You wouldn’t have brought this up if you hadn’t already thought it through.”
“As Ms. Wolf pointed out, there are eight billion potential traitors out there, and as I said, no one can guard against them all,” she said with a small smile.
“And you have different idea,” Declan guessed, causing her to arch an eyebrow.
“I do. It’s like football. We cannot come close to man-on-man defense, so we have to use zone defense.”
“You don’t want to guard the masses; you want to guard the ones they would betray us to?” I guessed.
“Exactly. They can go to Hell, to Fairie, and to the Vorsook,” she said. “You and I can cover Hell, Declan and Stacia can watch Fairie, and Omega will have to remain on guard for anyone attempting to connect with the Vorsook.”
“Still playing defense,” Stacia said. “My dad always said defense without a good offense can’t win games. We need to strike back… something decidedly stronger than our little attempt at destabilizing the relationship between Hell and Vorsook. We need to hit hard and fast.”
“How?” Tanya asked.
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. We need to take back the initiative, not just wait around for Hell or the Vorsook to take the next step. Playing defensively will only spread us thin and use up our limited resources.”
“How do we strike Hell and/or the Vorsook?” Declan said. “I mean other than by what we’ve already started.”
Stacia give him a look of pure frustration. “I. Don’t. Know. I just know we have to do something. After all, who knows how long it will take Hell to attempt to lure you away?”
“I do. They have just initiated contact,” Omega said.
“How? Where?” Declan asked.
“I am diverting to northern Vermont. The Chittenden County Sheriff’s department is calling out all units to respond to an officer being held hostage. The deputy involved is your aunt Darci.”
Chapter 9
The Obliterator moved as fast as Omega could propel it and still avoid air traffic in some of the heaviest flight corridors in North America. It slid to a perfect stop over Grand Isle, Vermont, just north of Burlington, not more than twenty minutes after Omega’s alert. It was still afternoon.
As we descended, the drone’s floor went transparent, showing us an eye-watering profusion of flashing red and blue lights crowded around a house situated on an open lot that was bordered by woods.
When we got closer, it became apparent that the house was a somewhat newer build, maybe ten or fifteen years old, probably a couple of thousand square feet, three or four bedrooms, with an above-ground pool and a separate two-car garage that looked to have an apartment above it. At least fifteen police cars and SUVs were parked in the driveway and on the street and a dark green armored SWAT vehicle was parked right in the front yard.
“I’ve alerted the local sheriff of our arrival,” Omega said. “She is anxious to meet us.”
The drone sandwiched open, revealing a cluster of heavily armed deputies and state police officers all staring our way. A middle-aged blonde woman in a dark uniform was holding a radio in her right hand and heading toward us, flanked by a beefy deputy in body armor and a Vermont trooper wearing green tactical gear with an AR-15 slung in patrol fashion across his front. I spotted lieutenant’s bars on the trooper’s collar just before Declan hopped out of the drone, the rest of us right behind him.
“Declan, I’m Sheriff Shirley Wilcox,” the woman stated in an authoritarian tone.
Declan was star
ing at the house, his jaw flexing, his whole body tense. “We’ve met, Sheriff,” he said offhandly, his tone hard.
“We’ve established that Darci is alive and being held by an unknown number of individuals and are seeking to establish communication with the perpetrator.”
“One. There’s only one,” Stacia said, Tanya and I nodding in agreement. I could feel a single Hellbourne and the only heartbeat I heard was Darci’s, and it beat fast. “She’s alive, Dec. Heart rate fast but steady.”
The two men with the sheriff exchanged glances while Sheriff Wilcox just frowned at us.
“Declan, you need to let us handle this,” Sheriff Wilcox began firmly but stopped as the air suddenly got cold. Frosty cold, all of our breath now visible as plumes of steam on a winter day rather than the warmth of late spring. And the hair on the back of my neck lifted as I felt our witch draw in power.
Declan turned to the sheriff and her subordinates. “The thing holding her doesn’t want to talk to you, Sheriff. This message is for me.”
“The entity holding Declan’s aunt is an emissary from Hell, Sheriff,” I said.
“How the hell can you know that?” the trooper lieutenant asked, frowning at his own language.
“Because there is no one on Earth more qualified to identify a Hellbourne demon than Chris Gordon, Sheriff,” Omega said from the sheriff’s radio. “And no team more capable of handling this particular hostage scenario than ours.”
“We haven’t even spoken to the occupant yet,” the deputy on the sheriff’s other side said.
“Do you know who it was?” Tanya asked.
“Was?” Sheriff Wilcox asked after giving her subordinate a quick glare.
“Darci is the only living person in that dwelling,” I said. “The body is being animated by a demon that I can feel from here.”
The sheriff opened her mouth to maybe argue but never got the chance to speak as a window on the first floor in the front of the house suddenly shattered, the glass blowing out onto the yard. The sun was setting behind the house and the opening was almost completely dark, but my vision showed me that no one was standing anywhere near it. “DECLAN O’CARROLL!”
“Thermal imaging online now,” Omega said and the Obliterator beamed a green wireframe hologram of the house showing a glowing green human shape at the base of the stairs. “Your aunt is being held almost in the center of the dwelling.”
Declan raised one hand and I felt the moment he released some of the vast power he was harboring.
Nothing happened for a split second—until the house came apart. I’ve heard the phrase stick built used to describe a house built from the ground up. This house came apart stick by stick. The shingles tore off the roof at the same time the vinyl siding ripped itself off, followed by the sheets of plywood that sheathed the roof and sides, which all just came free, followed instantly by every window and door in the structure. It was as if a computer-generated model expanded outward, each component that made up a house floating free. Like it was exploding in real time without the boom or the flying debris. Instead, there was just the sounds of nails and screws screaming as they were inexorably ripped free almost without resistance, wood splintering and wires snapping with sharp pings. The wooden trusses, framed windows, sheets of plywood, glass, insulation, pipes, and wires all just fell to the ground, almost gently, as the well-built modern dwelling disassembled itself. A couch and pair of chairs came floating from inside, landing in the same layout they had been placed in what might have been a living room. There were no sparks, no flames, or no gushing water as pipes, wiring, and gas lines writhed out of the building themselves, curling up on the lawn like pet snakes.
It took less than sixty seconds for Declan to pull the entire structure apart, leaving the first floor open without a single wall, stairway, appliance, or piece of furniture. In a shockingly short period of time, the entire structure was carefully laid out in concentric arcs around a bare first floor.
I’ve seen, up close, the damage from an F5 tornado, houses razed to the ground. It was like that, only it happened with almost horrifyingly controlled power and grace.
Darci and a small gray-haired woman stood where the staircase used to go up, like they were actors on a stage. The Hellbourne had rollers in its hair as it stood behind Darci, its right hand holding her throat.
“You wanted to speak to me?” Declan said, his voice seemingly calm. The tension in his body, the awful power pooled around him, and the worried look Stacia was giving him gave lie to his tone.
“Impressive,” the demon said in a deep, grating voice that had no business coming from a tiny grandmother’s mouth. “This is exactly why our infernal lord wants your service.”
“You have my attention. Let my aunt go—unharmed,” Declan said. It wasn’t couched as a request.
“Oh, but Darci and I are getting so well acquainted,” the demon said with a smile.
Declan flicked a finger and the hand around Darci’s throat exploded into pink mist. The stocky deputy wasted no time moving forward, right into Stacia’s arms. Declan’s werewolf had flashed across the lawn so fast that none of the humans were even aware of her movement until she was already there. At the same time, the demon was lifted into the sky and held helpless twenty feet off the ground, waving one good hand and one bloody stump.
“You need to explain yourself very quickly or I will end you,” the very angry young witch said in a reasonable tone. Stacia wasted no time in herding Darci off the open platform that had been a house a few minutes ago. A path through the debris opened for them silently as if an invisible plow was leading them toward us.
“I will simply go back to the Pit and someone else will have to do this all over again,” the demon said with a smirk.
“I’m not so sure that’s what will happen,” Declan said. “You see, Barbiel said that angels destroy demons. Therefore, it’s possible to destroy your kind. Which set me to wondering what would happen if I used a little spell that I call Sun Fire, or Ignis Solis in Latin. Do you know it? Would it obliterate your demonic essence if you were exposed to the raw power of the sun?”
The smirk wiped off the Hellbourne’s twisted grandma face. “I bear an offer from my most infernal prince of Hell, but I would speak of it where Heaven’s lap dogs cannot hear it.”
“Speak it now. I’m really not good with your method of getting my attention. Maybe my message back should be to kill the messenger, hmm?” Declan said, holding his right hand up and outward, a spot of intense white forming in the center of his palm. Stacia and Darci were back by us now, one of the EMTs moving to treat Declan’s aunt.
“Perhaps that is my prince’s wish? That you use your spell, that you burn up a little bit of your so-called soul? What happens to you when it’s all gone?” the demon grandma asked.
Tanya was still as ice next to me and Stacia looked like she wanted to grab Declan’s arm but was holding back.
“Well, whether I blast just you or a hundred demons more, you won’t ever know, will you?” Declan replied, his voice as frosty as the air. “And you’re making a rather large assumption that I still need to spend my own self for that spell. You know where I get my power these days, don’t you? Now speak your piece or leave us for good,” he said, straightening his arm as the ozone feeling of his magic ramped back up.
“Do you want the name of the Devourer?” Granny from Hell asked quickly.
“What Devourer? What are you talking about?” Declan asked, lowering his arm slightly.
“Don’t lie to a liar, witch. You know well your enemy is called the Devourer of Worlds. Hell knows everything you spoke of, knows of your so-called agreement.”
Declan turned and looked at me and Tanya, then glanced quickly at Stacia. “How?” he asked.
“Wrong question witchling. What is the correct one, as in what does my prince desire in trade for a true name? Your power is obvious,” the floating demon said, waving a hand at the deconstructed house. “What could you do with the true name
of your adversary?” the Hellbourne asked with a delighted grin. “You have so much imagination for destruction. My prince is right to covet your service.”
“Dec, we don’t trade with demons, right?” Stacia asked, shooting me a look.
“Of course not,” I said. “They don’t trade honorably.”
“Ah, yes, the words of the fool who gave up Heaven. The Hound of the Oppressor speaks,” Grandma said, locking red eyes on me.
“I think it’s past time you returned to the Pit,” I said, lifting my own right hand.
“Wait,” Declan said. “We should at least hear the price, shouldn’t we?”
“No,” Tanya said suddenly. “Negotiations only work if both sides can be counted on to deliver their parts of the bargain. As it said, it is an expert liar.”
“She’s right. It will give you some bullshit partial name, like the previous holder of the title or its offspring or some shit,” Stacia said.
“No!” the Hellbourne said. “My prince honors his agreements. The name I offer is the true name of the Vorsook who made his bargain with my prince. The Most Eminent Devourer of Worlds, the one who leads the rest in attacking this floating shit heap of a world.”
“Then what is the price? What would your demon boss want?” Declan asked.
“A year of service,” the demon said, a look of greed on its face.
“You’re crazy,” Declan said, raising his palm back up.
“Six months!”
“I will never serve Hell,” Declan said.
“No. You won’t,” I said, blasting a concentrated cone of aura right into the floating Hellbourne.
The blast was strong enough to force the black putrescent essence of the demon out through every orifice in the corpse: eyes, ears, nose, mouth, even the pores of the skin on its neck.
Instantly the smoky form of a giant raptor burst into our realm, grabbed the black blot of sputum from midair and, with a double flap of its wings, ripped itself and its burden out of this dimension.
The old woman’s body hung limp in Declan’s telekinetic grasp until he lowered it gently to the hardwood hallway of the exposed first floor.