by Tim Marquitz
The wizard stood his ground and glared at me. He was a confident fellow; too confident for my liking. I aimed at his chest and pulled the trigger. I saw a flash of sparks as the bullet struck an invisible barrier, deflecting away before it could hit the wizard. I sighed. No wonder he was so confident.
He walked forward with a smile, his hands held out as if to imply no threat. I knew better. The stocky goon ran over and positioned himself behind the wizard, taking advantage of the old man’s shield. Pretty smart of him. Thinking it was time to get moving, I left the manacles where they lay—my inner perv screaming obscenities at me the whole time—and drifted off Page 58
toward the darkness. The same direction the other goon had gone. I didn’t get far before the lights came on.
The wizard had cast an illumination spell and the whole warehouse was suddenly bathed in a yellowish glow.
I ducked down to make myself a smaller target, the wiry goon only about fifty feet to my right. He leveled his gun when he saw me, but didn’t shoot. I held both of mine out, one aimed at the goon, the other the wizard for all the good it’d do me.
“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not welcome here,” the wizard said with a southern twang. He came off calm and calculating despite the drawl. He knew I was more than just some random trespasser.
“You work for Baalth? I can sense his stench on you.”
Damn he was good. “Hardly,” I answered, kind of at a loss for words. Hard to believe, I know.
“If you don’t work for Baalth, who do you work for?” He continued to edge forward, the goon behind him drifting along with him.
“I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter none, I reckon. But you saw something you shouldn’t have so that ties my hands. There’s only one way to go from here.”
“You know, I’m getting real sick of being threatened.” That would be the third time today. I Page 59
could feel my cheeks starting to burn. “How about you tell me who you are and why you’re here since you’re feeling so damn chatty.” I get mouthy when I’m mad. It’s one of my better character flaws. I could see him mulling it over. “Why not? The name’s Henry McConnell. That there is Mike.” He pointed to the wiry goon nearest me, then gestured to the one behind him. “This here is Mario.”
His name struck a chord. “Henry McConnell, The Gray?”
He broke into a smile. “I don’t much go by that these days, but yeah, that’d be me.”
Things just kept getting better and better. The Gray had been one of Abraham’s earliest recruits. I’d never met him or even seen a picture, but I’d heard stories. None of them good. He was there when the pro-Armageddon forces went after DRAC the first time. From what I’d been told, he held his own. Pretty damn impressive, all things considered. Unfortunately, more so for me than him, he turned out to be an opportunist with little loyalty to anything but his own self-interest. When Abraham needed him the most, he hitched a ride out of town and disappeared. He’d picked an interesting time to reappear.
I kept my attitude in check, the best I could, while I weighed my options. Once again, I was way out of my league. That seemed to be an ongoing theme lately.
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“Well, Henry, I’m not really looking for a fight, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” I took a slow step backward, angling to keep as much of the shelves in the way as I could.
“Not so fast.” He matched my retreat with a step of his own. His staring, blue eyes seemed to look right through me. “Since you say you’re not with Baalth, which I tend to believe, how’d you find this here place? You didn’t just stumble onto it. You had to have been clued in somehow.” His smile got wider. “There’s not a whole lot of folk with power enough to spot the dampener wards I set up or who’d need to send a mutt to check it out. So, if Baalth didn’t send ya, Abraham must have.”
Powerful and smart. Shit. The look on my face must have given it away.
“Well, howdy. I’d heard rumors DRAC had reformed, but could never prove it one way or t’other. This’ll make the boss’s day.”
He could only mean Asmoday. I was in it deep and sinking fast. “Glad I could help, but I gotta go.”
Knowing I didn’t stand a chance going head on with McConnell, I chose the lesser of two evils. I went after Mike. I dove forward firing. A professional, I hadn’t surprised him. He dodged to the side and returned as good as he got. Almost. My first shot him dead center in the chest. I heard his breath billow out, but knew his vest would hold. My second, however, caught him in Page 61
the neck. He gurgled and fell back, clutching his throat. His first shot whistled past my ear. His second slammed into my shoulder just as I hit the end of my dive. Unfortunately, the chain shirt I was wearing was great against blades, but it didn’t do much to stop a bullet. It ripped right through it. I let out a groan as I tumbled off balance and slid into the shelves, coming to stop with a crash. I jumped to my feet as soon as I stopped moving. Though the wound hurt like a good case of the clap, I’d had worse. Wounds that is, not venereal diseases.
Although…
Never mind.
A little disoriented by the fall, I looked for McConnell and company. I spotted them just in time to see Henry finish the final flourish of a spell. His hand flashed a brilliant gray and a split second later it hit. It hit hard too. Like a Mack truck without brakes hurtling down a San Francisco street, a wave of force smashed into me. I went blind from the pain, my thoughts scattered about my mind like so much detritus. I flew backwards, crashing through the metal shelves. I felt the first couple as they snapped, banging against my head and shoulders, but the third, fourth, and fifth were just a vague blip on my pain radar. The sixth and seventh didn’t even register. I also didn’t notice when I’d hit the ground nearly forty yards from where I’d been struck. I did kinda feel the nearest Page 62
shelves topple down on me, but just barely. Good thing they weren’t too heavy. I pushed them off and sat up, suddenly noticing the spreading stain of blood across my hips and crotch. My head clouded by the impact, I frantically checked for wounds. There were none. I checked again, feeling myself up as I wondered how I could be bleeding yet not injured. It took me a second, but the light came on, however dimly.
The vial. The fall had broken the tube of Lucifer’s blood. Just great.
Now contaminated, the quickly drying blood was useless the minute it was free of the vial. My ace in the hole was nothing more than an embarrassing menstrual stain on the front of my pants. Knowing how little of the precious fluid I had left, I almost cried. The sound of a bullet bouncing off the shelf behind me caught me mid-sniff and reminded me I wasn’t alone. I shook my head, trying to rid it of the cobwebs. They didn’t seem all that interested in leaving, but I didn’t have time to argue. I had to move.
I crawled to my feet, my bruised and battered body complaining the whole time, the nerves coming back to life. I saw Mario working his way toward me through the wreckage, McConnell at his back. The light in the room had faded, but I couldn’t tell whether the illumination spell had ended or it was just my eyes. I figured I’d worry about that later. I raised my gun to take Page 63
a shot and realized my hand was empty. Disoriented, I looked to the other hand. It too was missing its gun. Hell of a time to lose both weapons. Without thinking, something I do so often it’s frightening, I grabbed a chunk of twisted shelving and hurled it at my pursuers. While far from a perfect throw, it was close enough for government work. McConnell and Mario sidestepped the awkward projectile easily though. I just stared at them as Mario raised his gun. I found myself wishing I had one of those. Fortunately, my instincts took over where my brain left off. I heard the crack of the pistol and saw the flash, but before my mind could figure out what all that meant, my body dove for cover. I barreled through the mass of broken shelves and tumbled out the other side as Mario’s bullet pinged somewhere behind me. The sound clicked someth
ing on inside my head and the fog started to clear. Through it all, something felt weird about the whole situation. It felt surreal. Not right somehow.
I moved off further through the maze of shelves, deeper into the darkness, doing my best to circle toward the front entrance. Mario and McConnell cleared the debris and followed, veering off to keep me from reaching the exit. The goon popped a shot off here and there as they followed. They rang out through the gloom, ricocheting nearby.
Once the gears in my head found their rhythm Page 64
again, I felt sure the darkness was natural and not some reflection of my damaged skull. I presumed that’s why Mario had such a hard time hitting me in the minimal cover of the warehouse. But again, something seemed off. His shots seemed hurried, desperate almost. As I thought that, he fired off a few more rounds in my general direction. It was like he hoped to get lucky. Not on the first date, buddy.
I worked my way around another shelf and nearly shit myself when I tripped over Mike’s body. Focused on McConnell and Mario, I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was. I stifled a nervous laugh and relieved Mike of his gun. He wouldn’t need it anymore. It wasn’t the supernatural slayer my piece was, but it’d do for now. I searched him for spare rounds and came up with a couple of cartridges, stuffing them in my pockets and scurrying off as I heard my pursuers closing in. A few more shots pinged nearby, drawn by my movement. I kept my head down and crept in the direction I remembered the door being. Through it all, I still had the sense of something wrong. Right then, it hit me.
When McConnell arrived, it had been all confidence and overwhelming superiority. Now, I didn’t get the same sense. Mario popped off shots almost at random, trying to hit me in the dark while McConnell hadn’t done anything since he knocked me across the room. Don’t get me wrong, it was a hell of a shot, but it Page 65
was far from fight-ending. He’d even let the light spell drop, which was more a detriment to him than to me. Why would a wizard who once stood his own against a horde of raging demons and angels rely on gunmen to take me out?
He was holding back on purpose.
Or maybe he wasn’t.
Indecision is a hobby of mine.
It was time to test a theory. I took off my shoes, set one aside and tossed the other in the general direction of the exit. It landed with a quiet thud, but it was enough. I heard a hiss from the darkness followed by the rapid crack of gunfire as three quick muzzle flashes split the dark, illuminating Mario’s position. Gotcha. I took a moment to aim, then double-tapped the trigger.
Mario cried out as the first bullet struck him, presumably in the vest. His cry was cut short as my second hit with a wet thwack. There was a thump followed by the clack of his gun as they both dropped to the concrete floor. In the blackness next to him, I heard a gasp, then the slap of booted feet running. I oriented on the sound, realizing McConnell was running away from the exit, further into the warehouse. Thrown off by his choice of directions, I held my gun out in front of me and chased after him as fast as I could, dodging through the maze of shelves.
There was a loud boom as something struck the Page 66
corrugated metal roof of the warehouse. I stopped and looked up just as a huge section of the roof was peeled back as easily as a piece of aluminum foil. A brilliant light suddenly illuminated the warehouse, shining down through the hole. Blinded for only an instant, thanks to good genetics, I could make out a shape in the center of the glow.
And what a shape it was.
Scarlett floated toward the floor, her wings trailing behind her, more a manifestation of her power than a physical set. She looked every bit the avenging angel as she descended, Everto Trucido clutched in her hand. The only thing that could have made the moment more majestic was if she had been wearing a skirt. Suddenly, I remembered what I was doing before my libido kicked into overdrive and looked again for McConnell. The room bright with angelic aura, I saw him just as he reached the warehouse office. He flung the door open and hurried inside.
With no idea why Scarlett was there, but grateful for her presence, I shouted for her to follow as I ran for the office. As I neared it, a green light exploded inside the tiny building, seeping out through the door and broken windows before it faded. Unsure of what happened, I held my gun out before me and whipped the door open.
The room was empty.
“Damn it!” I shouted as I ran around the back of Page 67
the office, looking to see if McConnell had slipped out that way. He hadn’t.
“He’s gone,” Scarlett said, sheathing her sword. I wondered if Captain Obvious needed her cape.
“Where the hell did he go?”
Scarlett walked up behind me, glancing into the office. She shrugged. “He used the circle to transport himself away. He could be anywhere.”
I growled, having not realized the ritual circle could be used as a makeshift gate. I thought McConnell was running low on energy, but his having to use the residual magic of the circle to escape meant he was on empty. I could have taken him out had I been faster. Damn. That would’ve earned me one hell of a pat on the back from Abraham. Now, a hole in my shoulder and a headache were all I had to show for it. Fortunately, all that would fade fast. The bullet was already being pushed to the surface as the wound healed beneath it. Irritated, I turned to Scarlett. “What are you doing here?”
“I went by your house, but you weren’t there. I saw the map and figured you’d be at one of the locations marked on it. It didn’t take much to find you from there.”
“So you just broke into my house? Does no one have any respect for privacy anymore?”
Scarlett smiled. “Given how I arrived to find you under attack by Asmoday’s men, I’d think you’d be Page 68
more grateful.”
“I guess it’s too late to add ‘thou shalt not break and enter’ to the list of commandments, huh?”
She just laughed, more at me than the joke. I shook my head. “Anyway, since you’re here, you can help me. Tell me what that circle was used for.”
I pointed to the office.
“Besides helping your bad guy get away?”
I took a deep breath and held off a second before I answered. “Yes, besides that.”
With a look of feigned indifference on her face, Scarlett went inside the office. She no doubt wanted to know just as much as I did, maybe more. I could see it in her eyes. Pretending patience, I stayed at the doorway as she dropped to her knees in the circle, focusing. I watched as she rocked back and forth, reaching out. The wave of her senses washed over me like tendrils of her hair tickling my skin. I tried my hardest not to be aroused. It wasn’t enough. What can I say? I’m easy. Unlike my mystical sense, which has all the subtlety of a jackhammer on crack, Scarlett’s could peel away the layers of supernatural occurrence like a fine-tuned MRI machine. She could easily pick out the faint traces left behind by wizards, which I would have missed, their footprints buried in the blurry mass of magical stimuli. Her sensitivity had a downside though. She felt everything so much deeper than I ever could. I saw her green eyes go wide. Her hands flew up to Page 69
cover her mouth as her senses dropped. She collapsed. I raced to her side. Her breathing was labored and her whole body shook.
“You okay?”
She took a moment, slowing her breath, before she answered with a tentative nod.
“What did you see?” I asked, helping her to her feet.
She rubbed at her eyes as if to wipe the vision away. “There was an angel held here.” Her shaking hand pointed at the circle.
I looked to the piles of melted flesh and a shiver ran down my spine. I felt cold. Numb. I knew the ritual had been elaborate, the manacles and dampeners a sure sign, but I would have never thought Asmoday capable of capturing an angel. It put things into perspective. You see, while the old world demons like Asmoday were once angels, they lost a part of their power in the fall. It was the cost of their betrayal. That power was spread amongst the Angelic Choir,
ensuring a measure of equilibrium against the Demonic Horde that bolstered its ranks with allies both supernatural and human. With Armageddon hanging over our heads, it was never good to see the balance shift toward the dark. At least now it made sense why McConnell was so short on magic. The capture and torture of an angel had to be exhausting, even with a demon doing most of the heavy lifting.
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“Do you know who it was?”
Scarlett shook her head. “No, but I can feel his torment. His agony infests the very air. I can taste it with every breath.” She looked like she was gonna be sick.
“What is there to gain from this?” It was too much of a coincidence for this not to be related to Asmoday’s attempted coup against Baalth, but for the life of me, I couldn’t see how the two were connected. Neither could Scarlett. “I don’t know.” Her answer was little more than a whisper. Her eyes flitted about the room, taking everything in. “Whatever he intends, Armageddon is the final goal. He never forgave God for his fall.” She said the last as if it explained everything. I guess to her it probably did. She raised her hand, moving it through the air as if waving in slow motion. “The dimensional wall has been savaged here. It would take little more to collapse it completely.”
Not entirely surprised, considering my reasons for being there, I extended my senses to better see the damage. “Jes—” I cut myself short knowing how sensitive Scarlett was about using the Lord’s name in vain.
The invisible barrier separating the dimensions from one another had been badly battered. It felt like it had been mauled by a bear. A very, very, very pissed off bear on PCP. Deep psychic slashes had shredded Page 71
its substance, leaving the core bare to the supernatural world. I could sense Hell seeping through from the other side. I’d never seen such carnage.
“We must stop Asmoday,” she proclaimed, her eyes steely, staring off at nothing. I could feel her rage. Seeing the opportunity to aim Scarlett, not as if she really needed the motivation, I took it. “Abraham thinks Asmoday intends to take out Baalth.”