All of that made approaching Matt Little slightly awkward.
Matt dressed the same as when Alex met him, looking ready for a day at the office. He waved as Alex approached, raising the corner of his mouth in an attempt at a smile.
"Hey, Matt," Alex said. "How's it going?"
He shrugged. "I'm still a ghost. So, no change."
"Listen, thanks for giving me some time." He looked over his shoulder. "My wife's in good shape. My stupid sister's in love. All my friends are cool. I think I can help you without too many complaints."
"Thank you. You've got a beautiful family."
"I appreciate that. So, if it's cool with you, after work on Monday, we can get started."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm sorry for dropping in on a Saturday night, but…I found out who killed me."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah. A neighbor, who lives two blocks away."
"Great. I can call the police."
"You could, but I was hoping you'd do something else."
"What's that?"
"Tell my wife. She can go to the police, and…I hear you can let the living talk to the dead?"
"I can."
"I'd love to talk to her. Just for a little while. I know you're having fun with your family, but do this for me tonight, and you'll never hear from me again. And I can get you paid."
Alex sighed, but didn't see how he could say no. It was part of the territory, part of the package of having demonic powers. Cindy and he were once interrupted in the shower while making love by a sixty-year-old ghost from the seventeenth century.
"Sure. Give me five minutes."
He went back to the kitchen to see Jack and Kevin still arguing about who cooked the better steak. Jack was trying to get Victoria to sample a bite, even though she'd get sick.
"Guys," Alex said. "I have to leave, just for a little while."
Cindy stood up and approached her husband. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Just a quick favor I'm doing for somebody. I'll be back."
"Do you need some company?"
"Nah, I'm good." He gestured to Kevin and Alicia. "Keep an eye on those two. Make sure they don't sneak off to a room or something. Later, guys."
CHAPTER 17
It was an uncomfortable ride as Matt directed Alex to head to the highway. The first few conversations with a new client were typically awkward. Alex thought he'd be used to it after two years, but that hadn't happened yet. There was usually a lot of emotion, and many questions asked. It didn't matter if the ghost was dead five days or five years. They had to relive a very personal experience to get closure, and Alex tried to help them along the way. But it wasn't easy.
"You okay over there?" Alex asked.
Matt took a deep breath. "I will be, when all this is over."
"Where are we going?"
"To a soup kitchen downtown."
"Your wife works at a soup kitchen?"
"No, she…lives there, most of the time."
Alex glanced at Matt and saw his jaw tighten. He sat perfectly still in the passenger's seat, not casting a shadow or leaving a dent. Alex said nothing. He didn't need to know any more. All he had to do was tell Matt's wife whatever he wanted. Technically, he didn't even have to do that. He simply had to hold her hand, and Matt could talk to her himself.
"She won't spend the insurance money," he said. "She went a little crazy, after I died. Her family tried to help her. My family tried. I watched her fall apart, and couldn't do anything to help her. Her job, the house, gone."
Alex felt a pain in his chest. He liked to think he was a strong person, but if he lost Cindy, a part of his life since he was five, he didn't know what he'd do.
"Well, listen, you're gonna be able to talk to her tonight. Will you be able to set her straight?"
"I hope so. But look, you have more experience with this than me. It'll probably take ten minutes just to convince her she's not hallucinating."
"Hell, maybe longer. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
They drove for nearly thirty minutes before Alex finally parked across the street from the soup kitchen. He studied the building, looking over Matt's shoulder. It was separated from the other businesses nearby, surrounded by a gate. The gate was open, but all the lights were off inside.
"Her brother owns this place," Matt said. "He lets her stay here, and I'm surprised she even lets him do that."
Alex was still for a moment as he stood on the sidewalk, trying to prepare himself for what he was about to do. He would tell a woman that ghosts were real, and he could talk to them. He would take her hand, and let her speak to her murdered husband.
"You ready?" Matt asked.
He nodded and walked alongside the ghost toward the front door.
"Are you sure she's here?" he asked, looking at the darkened windows.
"Yeah, but she might be asleep. There's a cot near the kitchen."
Alex knocked on the front door, and was surprised when it opened a few inches.
"She left the door unlocked again," Matt said.
"Mrs. Little? Are you in here?"
He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, Matt at his side. The room was bathed in darkness. He searched for a light switch on the wall, but felt nothing. Blinking once, his night vision pushed away the black, just in time to see two shapes rise from behind a table.
The liquid splashed him in the face, stinging his eyes. A smell touched his nose that made him dry-heave. He fell to one knee, and the lights came on just as a boot struck his nose.
The voices surrounded him, far more than one.
"Holy shit, what is that smell?"
"Did it work?"
"Grab his feet."
Multiple hands grabbed his legs and dragged him across the floor. He reached out and grabbed a chair, but someone kicked him once again. Blood ran down his face.
He squinted up at a group of men, maybe eight of them, all dressed in black. Matt stood behind them, his face stone. Slowly, he started fading in and out.
"Sorry…." Matt said. "He said…he'd…resurrect…."
Matt disappeared completely as a boot buried into his ribs, cracking two of them. Alex howled, and tried to sprout his wings. He expected the pain in his back, but nothing happened.
One of the men leaned down to strike him. The punch caught him just under the eye, sending him back to the floor. His attacker grabbed his shirt to pull him forward, and slugged him once again.
He tried to vanish, move into the spirit realm. He didn't know it failed until one of the men stomped on his stomach.
His powers were gone.
"This is supposed to be some kind of terrible monster or something?"
"Yeah, I know. Doesn't look like much to me."
"It's probably that smelly crap we threw on him."
There was a new voice from across the room.
"Of course it was the smelly crap."
The men all backed up a few steps and stared at the well-dressed older man, standing in the doorway to another sitting area. Alex tried to count the men, but couldn't think through the pain, and his eyes fell on Anatol Grigori.
Anatol smiled sadly as he approached Alex, and knelt in front of him. Alex tried to back away, but someone snaked an arm around his neck from behind, nearly cutting off his air. He struggled to breathe as he fought the grip.
"I wish it didn't have to be this way," Anatol said. "Please believe me when I say that. As long as I've been alive, I've never seen a creature like you. But I know if I'd offered you my friendship, you would have rejected it."
"You're…right," Alex struggled to say. "Fuck you."
Anatol shook his head. "Such a loss."
He stood up and simply nodded. Alex was hauled to his feet. He tried to fight, but one of the men stepped forward and punched him. He gasped for breath, and noticed a man approaching with a syringe. He could do nothing as the man pierced his skin and took his blood. Anatol stood back as Alex wa
s tossed to the floor.
Alex could barely see, but noticed someone walking to the corner and grabbing what looked like a lantern. The man shoved the syringe inside the lantern and set it on a nearby table. The light in the room was almost blinding as the lantern vanished, taking the syringe with it.
"You've done your job well," Anatol said. "Please, dispose of the young man like we discussed. You have about another hour before the potion wears off."
Anatol faded away. He was never in the soup kitchen at all, probably not even in the state. It was a terrifying thought that Anatol could have him killed from wherever he wanted.
Killed. Alex was surrounded by killers, and he was helpless.
But he wouldn't go down without a fight.
The men looked at each other.
"Okay, guys, we have an hour to have some fun."
"Let's just kill him and get it over with. I've got things to do."
"What can you possibly have to do?"
"I have to do your mom."
"Look, let's just do this, and get out of all this supernatural shit."
"What's the matter? You afraid of the little monster?"
They turned to look down at Alex, but he was gone.
"Son-of-a-bitch. Was no one watching him?"
"I thought you were?"
"Did he disappear, like that foreign guy?"
"No, idiot. Look. He's trailing blood."
"Nothing like a fun game of hide and seek. Here, monster monster."
*****
Alex clutched his ribs as he limped his way through the back kitchen. He kept as low as he could, but every breath was agony. Blood dripped from his face to the floor, and he tried to catch it and rub it on his clothes, to avoid leaving more of a trail.
He needed to get away or hide, but didn't know the layout of the place. It was a large building, but only one floor. He needed to find a closet, a dark corner, a phone, anything at all. Cindy was always on him about getting a cell phone, and he always refused. If he survived, a cell phone would be the first thing he bought.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are."
The voice was to his left, in the dining room. He could see the men moving about in different directions. One stood guard by the front door, laughing at the jokes everyone shared.
There was a door at the back of the kitchen, but it wouldn't budge. A storage closet was to his right. He didn't want to hide in such a limited space, but saw a shadow moving not far away, on the other side of the middle counter. He slowly opened the closet door and sneaked inside, trying not make a sound.
The closet was pitch black. Night vision was one of his lesser powers, one he often took for granted. He'd have given anything for a light of any kind. He felt his way through the dark, and found a rack in the corner, full of what felt like cleaning supplies.
Alex wanted to investigate the ceiling. If it was a drop ceiling he could hide directly above them. He fought the pain as his foot found the first shelf, and he pulled himself up. He tried to make it to the second shelf, but the door swung open behind him.
"Ah. There you are."
The man lunged forward and grabbed Alex by the neck. He rammed his head into the shelf, and then pulled him backwards. Alex saw stars as he was dragged across the floor, staring up into the lights. He tried to pop his wings again, but felt nothing. Whatever potion Anatol put together had completely neutered him.
Alex was surrounded once again. One man pulled out a gun, only to have another dress him down.
"Put that away. The last thing we want is someone hearing gunshots."
Alex was right. There were eight of them. He probably couldn't take one in a fight without his powers, much less eight. He thought of Cindy, and lashed out with his leg. He caught one of them between the legs, dropping him to his knees. The rest of them laughed as they backed a step. Three of them pulled knives.
"Whoa! He's got a little fight left in him."
The closest one swooped down with his knife, catching Alex across the leg. The blade ripped through his jeans and cut his thigh. Alex shouted and tried to scoot away. The men stalked him, drawing closer. They left their ally behind to groan, holding his testicles.
Alex bumped into the wall. He was out of room, and out of time.
"Okay, let's make this quick."
One of them spun his knife in his hand.
There was a violent cracking sound behind them, followed by a voice.
"You mortals disgust me."
Everyone turned, and Alex could see between the group's shoulders the figure standing not far away. They looked at each other in confusion, eying their uninvited guest.
Jack held the man they'd left behind. His neck was twisted at an odd angle, and he looked up at Jack with lifeless eyes. He had his fingers inside the man's mouth, holding him up like he was a six-pack of beer.
"You know you're nothing," he said, his face ugly with anger. "It takes all of you to beat down this man here. You can't do anything alone. You're like ants." He flung the dead corpse aside. "I like to step on ants."
One of the men charged forward. He thrust wildly at Jack's face, but he was simply too quick. Jack sidestepped and gripped the man's wrist, easily turning the blade back into his throat.
Jack smirked as the man gurgled blood on the floor. The six remaining men noticeably jumped.
Alex felt something, and could smell it in the air.
Fear.
"I'm going to kill each of you," Jack said. "And then I'll find your families, whoever you care about. But I'm not gonna kill them. No, no. I want your ghosts to watch what I do to them."
More fear. Alex wasn't causing it, but it nourished him just the same. He drank it up. Fear to him was like water to Kevin.
He pulled himself to one knee. His thigh wound was already feeling better.
Two of the men pulled guns, no longer caring about making noise. They fired round after round at Jack, who didn't bother to move, didn't even flinch. Alex had never seen the sight before. He'd heard Jack talk about his curse, his immortality, but didn't know what he really meant.
The bullets all fell at Jack's feet after striking him. He did nothing but shake his head, his face getting angrier by the second. The fear continued to grow in the room, and Alex's strength returned.
They fired until their guns were empty.
"Are you done?" Jack asked.
They tried to reload, but Jack stepped forward.
Alex snarled as his wings popped, his face twisting into that of a demon.
The carnage lasted only a minute. The humans didn't stand a chance. Jack broke bones, turned their weapons against them, attacked with deadly precision. Alex roared, evaded their pathetic attack by slipping into the spirit realm, threw them across the room. The last remaining murderer tried to run through the kitchen to a side door, but Alex pursued. He flipped tables and chairs out of the way with his wings, and launched himself at the man, forcing him into the wall. He hurled him back into the main dining room.
Jack stood in the middle of the bodies and blood. Alex folded his wings behind him, his features still inhuman. He leaned in the doorway, catching his breath, as Jack stared at him.
"Your face," Jack said. "It's still ugly."
"Just give me a second. I'm a little mad right now."
"Join the club."
"What are you doing here?"
"I followed you. Victoria's babysitting Glinda. I figured you'd need a babysitter, too. Looks like I was right."
Alex laughed shortly, and then looked down as the bodies stirred. Not all of them were dead. Some moaned in discomfort. But that wasn't all.
Some of the spirits began to separate from their bodies. They crawled away and pulled themselves to one knee, right over their corpses. Alex couldn't tell at first glance which ones were alive or dead. They stared at each other in confusion.
"Oh my God," someone said behind him.
Alex spun to see Matt Little, standing in the corner.
"Was it
all bullshit?" Alex asked. "Your wife, the home invasion. All a lie?"
"Alex, I'm sorry. The vampire…he can do amazing things. He said if I helped him, he'd bring me back to life."
There was whimpering behind him, and he glanced at the men staring down at their former selves. Some of them cried while others simply stared in disbelief. Jack had a look of curiosity, trying to piece together what he couldn't see and hear.
Alex scowled at the ghosts around him, settling his gaze on Matt. He didn't think of himself as a murderer, but he had killed before, when it was necessary.
It was necessary.
"No. No afterlife, for any of you."
The lights went out, and the terror was thick in the room as the shadows twisted and grew. The noises came, low, demonic rumbling. The first physical sign was a mangled claw, emerging from the darkness. Matt tried to run through the wall, but another hand reached from the ceiling and grabbed him, holding him in place.
Only Jack wasn't afraid. He watched as the demon realm slowly carved out a small bubble around Alex.
"Now this is impressive."
A voice boomed from all around them.
"Master."
Alex winced, but didn't argue. "Have fun. A gift from me."
"Thank you," the demons said, stretching out the last word.
"Let's go," Alex said. "Stay close to me."
They left the soup kitchen, and Alex took one last look as demons tore into both the living and ghosts. He felt guilty, only for a moment, before remembering the beating they gave him. His body was healed, but his clothes were a mess, his face covered in blood.
Jack headed for his car, but Alex stopped him.
"Not yet. I can't go too far, or the demons will disappear."
"What happens to the guys in there?"
"I'll let my pets play, then we'll question one of them."
"They have to be alive for that."
Alex smiled. "Not for me."
"I think I can finally say you're alright," Jack said. "But they don't know anything. Only little Glinda can solve all this, and he's more interested in strip-searching your sister."
Demon's Doorway Page 24