by N. P. Martin
"We thought so too," Brentwood said. "Until we got word that the group had invented a machine that would allow anyone access to the Astral Plane whenever they wanted. To make matters worse, they put the plans for the machine online and encouraged people to build their own. They believe magick and the technology they build should be available to all. I don't need to tell you, I strongly disagree with that notion."
A machine to access the Astral Plane? Without using magick? Very inventive. I could just picture people lining up to try it out and then never making it back because they had been attacked by one of the Astral predators that stalked the Plane. I was curious, though, as to how the inventors managed to make it so the body didn't have to be left behind before entering the Astral Plane itself. Did the machine render the physical body ephemeral somehow? "So why don't you just send a team to retrieve the book if you think the Scientists have it? Why are you telling me?"
Brentwood sighed as if his hands were tied. "We would if we could find them. The group has used the book to create their own plane of existence. All of their work is done within that plane. And even if we could get to them, they aren't just going to give up the book. These people are radicals, Creed. Anarchists. They want to put so much power in the hands of the people that society will blow itself up."
"Sounds like you got a serious problem on your hands."
"Fucking right. And I need your help to fix it, Creed."
It was my turn to sigh. "And by fixing it you mean what?"
"Infiltrating the group and retrieving the Dark Codex."
"You want me to go undercover."
"Precisely. You're the only man for the job, Creed."
"You're staring at me like I don't have a choice. I hate it when you do that."
"Look, Creed," Brentwood said as he took a few steps towards me. "I don't pretend to like your methods, but there's no denying you get results. I'll give you whatever you need to get the job done. There's a lot of very nervous people above me who want that book found, including the President."
"And what do you plan to do with the book once you get it? I'd say the military would be very interested in a book like that."
Brentwood looked away for a second. "What happens to the book is out of my hands, Creed."
"I'm sure," I said, having heard enough now. "Look Brentwood, I'll maybe take the job on, but not right away. I have a more pressing matter to take care off first."
His jaw clenched for a second as he once again struggled with the fact that he didn't have the authority to command me into doing as he said right away. He knew he would have to wait. "How long?"
I shrugged, shook my head. "Not sure. A few days maybe."
Hopefully anyway.
"Fine. Contact me when you're ready." He turned to walk out of the living room. I didn't follow him.
"Sure," I said wearily.
When Brentwood was in the hallway, he called out, "Don't leave it too long, Creed. People are waiting."
After the front door had closed, tension filled my body, and I gave Brentwood the middle finger, even though he had gone.
Blaez made a small barking noise form the corner of the room, and I looked over at him. "It never ends, Blaez," I said. "It never fucking ends."
An hour or so later, as I was gathering everything I needed for the trip to Red Branch Falls, my phone rang and I answered it, glad to hear Leona's voice on the other end. "Hey," I said, taking a seat in the living room. "How's it going there?"
"Okay," Leona said. "Same old shit, different madman. You know the score."
"You sound tired."
"I'm leading the field team on this. A lot of running around. I came back to my hotel to grab an hours sleep before we have to run down another lead."
"So who's the madman you're chasing?" I asked, settling into the chair, just glad to be able to listen to her sultry voice as she spoke.
"We don't know yet. He's killed eight people so far, uses magick to grotesquely deform the bodies before leaving them in public like sick sculptures. He's been taunting the local PD with letters as well. We'll catch the son of a bitch, though."
"You always do."
She went silent for a moment. "I miss you, Creed." She said it quietly like it was hard for her to say, which I knew it was.
I swallowed. "I miss you too. You've no idea how fucking much, in fact."
"Are you okay? You sound tired and stressed."
"I'm both. I'm getting ready to go and find a witch on behalf of Baal."
"That's who he wants you to find? Why?"
"I don't know. Neither do I care. I'm just going to find her and turn her over to Baal. After that, I'm done."
"You think that demon will let you walk?"
I said nothing for a moment. It was a possibility I didn't want to consider much, the fact that Baal may just keep me on retainer after I did that one thing for him. The last thing I wanted was to remain in the demon's service in perpetuity. Fuck that. "I hope so," was all I could say.
Silence fell between us again, a silence that for me was filled with a longing to be with the woman I loved right then, in person. "We should run away," I said eventually. "Just the two of us. Maybe off-world. Forever. What do you think?"
She gave a small laugh. "Right now, that idea doesn't sound too bad."
"Really?" Normally she would have dismissed such notions as silly and not worth thinking about.
"Really."
I smiled. "There's hope for you yet, Lawson."
"Don't get too excited, Creed," she jested. "I could do with some time off, though. With you."
"We'll make it happen. I promise."
Fuck Brentwood. Fuck everything else. I was going to spend some quality time with the woman I loved, no matter what.
In the background, it sounded like someone knocking Leona's hotel room door. "Shit," she said. "I gotta go."
"Alright," I said. "So do I."
"Be careful of that witch. Them bitches are crazy."
"Don't sweat it. I'll be fine." Not that I was sure if I believed that.
Another knock sounded on her hotel room door, more insistent this time, followed by a male voice calling her name. "Creed?" she said, ignoring the other voice.
"Yeah?"
There was a pregnant silence while I waited on her saying something, but eventually, all she said was, "Nothing. Forget it. We'll talk later."
Then she hung up.
9
Dark Passenger
I left the Sanctum just before dawn the next morning, driving through the mostly empty streets of the city on my way to Morgan County. I didn't sleep much the night before, my mind turning over everything that had happened recently. While I watched the sky turn from dark gray to a pale lilac color as the sun came up, I began to wonder if I hadn't lost something of myself when I destroyed my father's soul. Before it happened, I never stopped to consider how taking him down would make me feel. I had been so angry at him, despising his bloodlust and thirst for power, that it never even occurred to me that I might feel bad for killing him. I just wanted to stop the son of a bitch at any cost.
Of course, my father was, to all intents and purposes, dead anyway. He had died a long time ago at the hands of a demon with the rest of my family. What I faced off against in that abandoned factory wasn't my father, but Mr Black, a purely evil entity that was created in the Underworld. I should not have been feeling bad for destroying such a malevolent creation.
And yet...
I shook my head as I barreled down the expressway in the Lincoln, forcing myself not to think about Mr Black or my father any longer. They had taken enough from me, I decided, and they were both gone now anyway.
"What's done is done," I said as if to try and convince myself. "Fuck him. Fuck them. Time to move on."
Leaning forward, I turned on the radio. "Sympathy For The Devil" was just beginning, and I shook my head, considered changing the station and thought, Fuck it.
"Please allow me to introduce myself, I'
m a man of wealth and taste..."
I looked out the side window at the dark expanse of the lake I was passing by, framed by the mountains at the far side. The cold morning light made the lake look gunmetal gray, and the wind made the surface choppy. Altogether, it was quite an ominous landscape at that time of year.
"I've been around for a long, long year. Stole many a man's soul to waste..."
"I like this song."
I cried out in shocked surprise when I heard the voice beside me and lost control of the wheel for a moment, the Lincoln veering off towards the lake as I wrestled the car back to the center of the road again. "Jesus Christ!" I shouted at the person who now sat in the passenger seat beside me.
Or rather a demon.
Baal was wearing his creepy smile and overly calm demeanor as he stared over at me. "Careful," he said. "You might cause an accident. I wouldn't want to damage this perfectly good flesh suit, now would I?"
Resisting the urge to pull over and punch the living shit out of Baal (not that he would have let me, but it was how I felt), I sat fuming as I gripped the steering wheel hard with both hands. "In what world is it ever a good idea to just appear beside someone like that when they're driving? You're lucky there's hardly any traffic at this time of the morning, or else you would have had to find yourself another suit to wear. Maybe you could have scraped mine up off the roadside and wore it."
Baal just sat staring at me as I vented, his face as unexpressive as a Buddhist monk's. Under other circumstances, I probably wouldn't have dared shout at him like that since he could snap my neck with barely a twitch of his finger if he wanted to. But in that case, I thought my outburst was justified. "Have you finished now?" he asked.
I shook my head. "What the hell is so urgent that you had to teleport into my car while I was driving? We use phones here. You should get one."
Frowning slightly, Baal reached into his corduroy jacket pocket and pulled out a phone. "Is this the device you are talking about?"
"Yes. You want my number?"
Baal smiled as he wound down the window and dropped the phone to the blacktop where it probably shattered into pieces. Then he sat staring at me once again, those eyes of his causing me so much discomfort it was almost unbearable. "Rest assured, Creed. If I want to contact you, I will do so in person. Always."
I nodded uncomfortably. "Awesome. I'll bear that in mind."
Baal smiled and seemed to relax a little in his seat as if we had come to some understanding, one which I wasn't aware of, but he seemed satisfied nonetheless. His head even started to bob upon and down gently as the Stones continued to play on the radio. He seemed even more scary and weird when he was relaxed. Suddenly, it felt hard to breathe inside the car, even with the windows open. I just wanted him gone. For good would have been nice, but I knew there was no way that was going to happen. Not until I had handed over the witch he so desperately sought. "I like this music," he said. "Nowhere near as torturous as the music to be found in the Underworld, but still...catchy."
"Wait till you hear Justin Bieber," I said. "You'll feel right at home then."
"I don't know this Justin Beaver. Is he from the Underworld?"
"There are many who think so. Including me."
"Is he a demon?"
"Of a sorts, yes. Definitely. Justin Bieber is a demon. Without a doubt."
Baal nodded. "I must look him up. He sounds like he could be useful."
I didn't dare ask for what. "Yeah, do that. I'm sure he'd be glad to have you around."
The demon went back to smiling out the window again and sat that way for what seemed like an hour, but really, was only for a few moments. Still long enough for me to crack under the silence and ask him again what he was doing inside my car. "How'd you even know where I was?"
He gave me a look as if to say, Please, do you know who you're talking to? "I thought I would join you for the ride. I'd like to see where the witch is hiding out."
Shit. He's coming along for the whole damn ride? Just great.
"I thought you were letting me handle this," I said.
"I am. You will still secure the witch for me."
I wasn't sure if that was because he was forcing me to fulfill my debt to him, or if it was because he somehow couldn't handle the witch by himself. If the latter were true, that didn't hold out much hope for me. Who the hell was this witch anyway? Why did Baal seem afraid of her? Or was that just my imagination? I didn't think so. There was something there in the demon like the witch had hurt him badly at one time, and he had come to fear her on some level ever since. As strange as it may sound for a demon, but he took the witch's betrayal or whatever it was that hurt him very personally. Demons were not supposed to take anything personally. They were demons, for God's sake. They weren't supposed to have such emotional responses.
Unless he was in love with her.
I very nearly dismissed the notion out loud but held it in as Baal glanced at me suspiciously. I also made sure my psychic defenses were well and truly secure in that moment. The last thing I wanted was for Baal to rape my mind. Even if I was right about him being in love with the witch, I didn't want him knowing that I knew. I doubted he would have taken that too well.
"I've tracked your witch to Red Branch Falls," I said, bringing things back to business. "It's a massive expanse of woodland. She could be anywhere in it."
"So how do you plan on finding her?" Baal asked.
"I have a device that can detect sources of magick and the supernatural. It's sort of like a Giger counter, only instead of radiation it detects--"
"Magick."
I nodded. "Magick can be concealed, but it can't be truly hidden. It will always show itself if you know how to look."
Baal smiled like he was pleased. "See. I knew I chose wisely when I chose you to find Mar--" He stopped himself short before he said her name, swallowed it back down like he was swallowing a pebble. "The witch. To find the witch."
I pretended not to be embarrassed by his obvious emotion and decided to change the subject. There was still an hours driving left. I thought I might as well get some answers while I had the chance. But as I looked over at him, I caught him glancing into the wing mirror at a black pickup truck that was coming up behind us. When he saw me looking at him, he smiled and stared straight ahead as the pickup overtook us, the windows blacked out so I couldn't see the driver inside. Weird, I thought as the truck sped off up the road, eventually disappearing up some side road. I could have just been paranoid, but it almost seemed like Baal had been expecting the pickup truck. I was going to ask the demon about it but decided not to when I realized Baal would just deny knowing anything. Shaking my head, I asked him something else instead. "Back when I summoned you," I said. "You mentioned I was marked somehow by the demon who killed my family. What did you mean by that?"
Baal cleared his throat and grasped the opportunity I had given him to stop thinking about the witch. "Ah yes, that's right," he said. "You do indeed bear the mark of the demon."
"What mark? Where? I don't have any such marks on me anywhere. I've checked."
"The mark is not visible to human eyes. It is only visible to demons."
I was starting to get freaked out now as I glanced between the road ahead and Baal. It creeped me out to know that there was some sort of mark on my body somewhere. The vile stamp of some demon. "So what does it mean, this mark? Is it like a brand? Was I branded like fucking livestock?"
"In a way," Baal said, nodding casually, looking every inch the poor professor whose body he had stolen as he began to patiently explain to me the meaning of the mark like I was his student in class. "To put it simply, you were marked for possession."
"Excuse me?" Did he just say possession? I nearly veered off the narrow road we were on, the very word possession like a slap in the face right then.
An amused smile appeared on Baal's face. "The demon who slaughtered your family can possess your body whenever it wants. And there is nothing you can do to stop it."<
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"Are you...are you fucking kidding me?" It was a redundant question. I knew the demon was telling the truth. "Why me?"
"The demon must have thought you would make an interesting ride in this amusement park one day. Rest assured there are lots of other humans out there just like you, all marked by some demon or other. I used to do it myself, but I stopped because I didn't often venture up here much. Anyway, the mark is permanent. I doubt even your magick could remove it." He smiled again, amused by my discomfort over these revelations.
I wish I had never asked about the mark in the first place. Now it felt like a great fat Albatross had landed around my neck, or as if someone was now beside me at all times with a gun to my head, smiling all the while, letting me know it would just be a matter of time. And the very thought of that demon jumping inside my body, taking over and forcing me to take a back seat while it runs riot doing God knows what terrible and horrific things, maybe as it tore another poor family limb from limb while I had to watch...
Jesus.
My stomach turned over at the thought, and I slammed on the brakes. Then I fumbled open the door and vomited out onto the road. Passing cars beeped their horns at me, but I ignored them. When I'd finished being sick, I pulled the door closed again.
"Not feeling well?" Baal asked with a wicked smile.
I wiped my sleeve across my mouth. "I'm just going to drive," I said in a flat voice as I pushed down on the gas pedal again. "I don't think we should talk anymore until we get to the woods."