Demon Bait (Keeley Thomson)

by P. S. Power

  A quick call on a cell phone however had all the information they needed, without it being volunteered. It was a bit lazy to call to the front desk, which was about fifty feet away, but whatever worked for the man. He wasn't really up to running even that far, and felt a strange desire to please the girl in front of him. That was the gig after all. Being a slave, at least to one of her kind, meant being their total thrall. This man would do anything she asked of him, and had no choice in the matter. If she insisted that he eat well and perhaps just didn't like sweets anymore, he'd do it without hesitation. In fact, though she'd never tried it herself, it was just possible that if she told him to fix his heart, and even become a bit younger, he'd simply do it. That seemed like a plan then, since she already had this Chief, and didn't need to break in another anytime soon.

  The man looked at her, his eyes grandfatherly. At least that's what she saw there. Only a bit of a hint that this man had once been younger and more... randy. That was most old men, so she didn't hold the fact against him.

  "It seems like Mr. Howard here had a good time last night at a local watering hole. Came in as drunk and disorderly about three a.m. This is his sixth time in the last four months, so it looks like he's going to be going away for a few days, after the court case, that is."

  Keeley looked at the man, who had friendly blue eyes, the whites a bit tinted with age, some red veins showing that he either wasn't a morning person, or had some minor trouble sleeping the night before.

  "Oh? Well, he did help out bringing the cookies in. I told him that he'd get a reward if he helped. How about you get those charges dropped? He'll stop drinking and... I don't know, how about he comes in once a week to clean up the parking lot or something? Saturday mornings?"

  There was a hesitation from Bob, but then his mouth worked and he started nodding, gently at first.

  "I guess that can be arranged, if he's really going to change his ways. How likely is that?" This was addressed to the other man, who rubbed at his face, which needed a shave, and then sighed.

  Before he could speak, Keeley focused, touched his thoughts and instructed him to never drink alcohol again. Or do any other drugs, unless prescribed by a doctor or ordered by her. Not that she was planning on a heroin addiction for the guy, but it was always nice to leave the option open.

  "I can do it. I need to stop anyway. I guess... I don't know, AA or some bullshit like that?"

  The Chief didn't seem impressed, but cleared his throat and then reached out to pat Keeley on the arm.

  "He gets one shot, and only because you asked. If this doesn't work, I won't be able to help him again. If it does... Well, locking people up only does so much. The job is about preventing crime. It just almost never works that way."

  That got her to nod, since there was a lot of truth to what he was saying. A good police force shouldn't be about jack boots and guns, but about being there for people, and solving problems. That wasn't what took place, or even how they were trained, but it was so obvious that it worked better that even Humans could see it, if they were intelligent enough. That the Police Chief was, made sense. He was from a different era of law enforcement. From a time when being the smart one got you a better job, if you tried hard.

  "Great! It won't be a problem, right Clint? Now, I'll be calling you about once a week, to check up on you and make sure things are going well here, Chief. If you have any problems that can be solved by a sixteen year old girl, let me know. Or, even if you don't think that I can do much, since it's part of my plan to be socially active. You never can know when having some extra cookies will help, either." She patted his arm back, getting a soft smile in return.

  "That sounds... Unneeded, but I won't say no. Let me get you one of my cards? You too, Clint, if you're working on cleanup for us."

  That wasn't a huge problem, since the man didn't have a job, and had nothing else to do most of the time. Even looking for something else was too hard to bother with. Keeley didn't check on that one, since the man muttered it for her benefit without being asked.

  He'd worked in a garage, as a mechanic, until the shop had to cut back on manpower. Things in the area were picking back up, but so far no one had been hiring in his field, and other than work in a casino, there wasn't a whole lot for him to be doing just then. Which was a load of garbage, Keeley knew. He was relatively young and healthy, unmarried and while not good looking, no worse than most people. He was a bit of a sad sack sort of man, the kind that always made a big deal out of tiny setbacks, instead of fighting on all the time, to make his way.

  Or he had been. Keeley didn't try to be subtle on the way out of the building, just chatting him up openly. So much so that the desk sergeant, who was actually a corporal, chimed in, overhearing them.

  "Say, I heard they're hiring over at the Safeway. Stockboys. Not a great place for a grown man, but if you need something, it beats petty theft."

  It was clear that Clint didn't like that idea at all, feeling that it was beneath him. Keeley smiled though.

  "There you go. Go clean up, and try that. In fact, try everywhere and take what you can find. You can reschedule with Bob, if you need to work on Saturday mornings."

  She had to force herself to be interested in the idea, but he'd do it, and try hard to get something. That didn't assure it would work, but if not she could find him a place in about ten minutes. What was the point of having slaves though, if you had to do all the work for them?

  It was still early, so she headed to the store herself, picking the larger bargain place that she'd been using, and bought in bulk, filling her car. Then she got over to the former drug nest, thinking about things as she drove. Mainly about the fact that she was, currently, holding seventy-two slaves. Better than that, she didn't feel it. If anything, she felt... Good. Not energized maybe, but no worse than she had with ten. It was as if she could hold an infinite number of them at once. Which was silly, of course. No one could do that, but... A few thousand? That seemed a lot more likely, now than it had before. It was tempting to try, just to see what the limits were.

  It wasn't hard to get the rest of the morning chores done then. It cost thousands of dollars, and there was no word about the building that her crack fiends were scrubbing as if their lives depended on it, but that was fine. They had food, and she made a point of easing their withdrawal symptoms for them, healing the damage done, but only with orders. She made sure they all used their own energy for it, and corrected the harm that had been done that way. It would be a bit slower, but save her a lot of personal work.

  That in mind she laid in a complex set of things for Chief Bob at the same time, just to see if it would really work. Orders to heal his heart, and then slowly, and with control, begin to undo age, without allowing cancers to happen. It was right there in her memories, the ones from Tarsus, that some slaves had been kept for hundreds of years that way. Even Human ones. Not that a public official would be allowed to do that yet, but in a few years, with the coming anti-aging treatments, it might just work. For that matter he could just claim that he was taking an early test version now, if anyone asked. That, or claim it was a combination of a low-carb diet and Pilates.

  There was a lot to do, since it was clear that she was really trying to avoid Gregor, and that whole situation for the moment. That didn't make sense, however, so she forced a fake sigh, rolled her eyes in her rearview mirror and drove home. Then she very carefully stepped out of her car, trying to stay ready for the inevitable attack, and moved directly onto the inroads. The first thing she did was walk around the outside of her house, looking for traps, or tricks that could let others in. It wasn't well warded yet, or anything. For that to work well she needed to have some kind of basic barrier, she thought. It wasn't the only way to do it, but warding the walls of her own home, while sufficient, would put constant magic power buzzing around the place. It might get annoying.

  So, for the moment, she searched like a regular person, at least if they had access to the lines, and then very sl
owly, taking her time, backtracked and searched at least ten unrelated places around her city. Then without warning she suddenly headed off at a run, toward Switzerland. Gregor might have been in charge of North America, but he didn't live there. He was intimately tied to Rome and Vatican City too, but held himself away from those places most of the time as well. His main house, a place that she'd never been to, was far away from there. In the mountains, near a pleasant looking tiny village. She ended up there after about ten minutes of jogging, and decided to walk the place first, even though it was mid-afternoon. It was cute, and had a different sense about it than most places she'd been. Stone buildings and brightly painted shutters that were supposed to remind a person of a long time before. An age that most would think of as simpler. They'd be wrong of course, but it was designed to make you assume that. There weren't even cars in the narrow streets. Just horses and carts.

  They probably had lousy internet service, too. It clearly hadn't been fitted with cable anything, as far as she could tell. No one had moved any of the stones in the streets for a long time and there were no lines between buildings. If there were satellites to get things done, they were being well hidden. It was probably that, since Gregor would need to be in touch with people, at least occasionally.

  The big house, which was literally at the top of a hill, behind the low city wall, was nice, but not so much so that it seemed like a castle or palace. A big stone house, with a bright red roof. That was all. There was a guard outside the door, and he was dressed in red and yellow, complete with a funny hat, like the Swiss Guard. It wasn't a mistake, since Gregor was so high up in the Catholic Church that things like that were probably pretty normal in his world. The man looked at her closely, lingering on the outfit she wore, since it was rather plain for visiting important people. Jeans and a yellow t-shirt that hugged her middle and strained over her breasts. His eyes mainly lingered there however, and a small smile crossed his lips. It took her a few seconds to get the language down, but by the time he finished ogling her goodies, she had it well enough. It was just a matter of finding the right pattern in the set of memories she held.

  "I'm here to see The Cleric. Gregor. Would you pass the word that the Mistress of Souls has come? I would appreciate that, if it is allowed." The man would either get it done or not. If there was a problem... Well, the smart money would run then, because if a Greater Demon didn't have control over their people when confronted by polite beings like her, things were falling apart far too badly for them to deal with one of their own at the moment.

  "It will be done. Immediately." The man didn't move, but a thought came from him, a slightly glowing thing that ran in a brilliant blue line into the place behind them. It just traveled through the thick stone of the gray wall. It wasn't visible, not for a Human, or even most beings, but she was good with magic. This particular kind was different, however. Not Demon, naturally, but not Human either. Or anything she knew off the top of her head. Similar to other things, but more... Holy, came to mind as a descriptor. Innocent, and pure. It was telepathy, much like what she'd been using earlier in the day herself, but this was kind and gentle, merely passing information, much like the spoken word would, rather than infiltrating a mind.

  Which, as unlikely as it might have seemed, given the note in her head that purported to be from her, probably meant it was Angel magic. At least she was supposed to think that, if it was a trick. Could it be anything else?

  That was the hard part. Her world was filled with things that almost had to be out to get her, in very real terms. If there were such beasts as Angels, then they hid themselves away for some reason. Unless, as the message had told her, it was really about her own doubt and inability to manage things, and not that they hid, but that she was... less than perfect that way. If it were the case, the only thing to do would be allowing herself to change and adapt. That might not be easy, however. She felt it already. Her mind wanted to turn from the very thought that such things could be real. She desired to turn away altogether and just run home. Have a big lunch and maybe listen to some music for a while. It had been a while since she'd just sat and done that kind of thing.

  That, or go visit her friends. She suddenly missed Hally a lot, and her mother. Even Zack, as weird as that one was. Darla too.

  With a focused thought, standing there on the stone stoop, looking at the being in front of her that was possibly some version of an Angel, or a being similar to that but more junior, she clamped all of those feelings down tightly, making herself concentrate on what was going on. Not rejecting it, but watching and waiting for the trick, or trap. It was going to come, she didn't much doubt. After all, no matter what was going on, something was very incorrect in her world, wasn't it? Things didn't get that messed up without help. Not if you were sane and reasonable.

  A few moments later the door opened, and Gregor stood there himself, dressed in black slacks, shining shoes and a rather soft looking sweater over a dark blue suit. His eyes shone a bit behind his gold rimmed spectacles, and he smiled when he saw her. Happily. It felt genuine, too. Not like the very well faked things that most of her kind did to approximate that kind of real feeling.

  "Mistress of Souls, what a pleasant surprise. Please won't you come in?" He moved to the side of the heavy wooden door, which was plain, but clean and well cared for. The hinges didn't squeak when he closed it gently behind her at least. The inside of the place was...

  Oppressive.

  It looked fine, being clean, with a lot of exposed wood, but it was a trap. She nearly just started fighting right then, but it was, most likely, too late. No magic was getting in or out, after all. Not her kind. She paused and noticed that some still was, heading directly to Gregor, and hitting his head, as she watched, the whole thing clearer for her suddenly, since most of the noise was gone.

  It was telling, if nothing else. He was constantly communicating with someone at a distance. It was impossible to trace where the signal went, but this was more of that well organized and clean magic. The Angel sort.

  "Now, not meaning to be rude, at all of course dear, but if you have an issue, I find that dealing with them straight out is often the best way to handle them. Unless you came for a date? Young Zachary did mention something along those lines..."

  He'd mentioned sex for them both, flat out, and suggested the same to her, so she could fight against the remnants of her Human upbringing. She wasn't one of them and trying to live like it would end up with her being killed, she knew. Not instantly, but things added up, if you lied to yourself too much. Especially if you were one of her people. It was part of why the insane were so dangerous, she realized. Only one piece of a very large puzzle fell into place, but it felt right.

  "I noticed a note in my mind, earlier today. It claimed to be from myself, and was made using what seems to be my own internal magic. As if I did the work. I don't remember making it, which is a little strange. It also says that you were an Angel, the Archangel Michael, to be precise. And that I needed to get in touch with you and check this out." She looked around again, and nodded. Then traced the flow of magic around them with a wave of her hands. "I take it that the Angel part is correct? The magical structures here are... Different. They feel... good. Organized. It's a bit annoying, but I can see it. Most of my magic is being blocked here... I can still feel the links to my slaves, but I can't do anything with them. The information is being choked off?"

  The man, who looked a tiny bit befuddled for an instant blinked at her.

  "I can assure you that I'm not the Archangel Michael. The very idea is ridiculous." There was no heat to the words, but the statement was too obvious to fool anyone, wasn't it?

  "Which one are you then? I'm afraid that I never bothered to learn that kind of thing, being that, you know, I figured the whole idea to be false. God and all that. Maybe you can pass him a note for me? I've kind of been showing up in his church and mouthing things at him for the last few months. It might just be pissing him off. I wouldn't want him to feel
mocked."

  There was a pause, and then the man walked away, looking at her over his shoulder and talking, so that she'd know to follow.

  "Not that I've heard of. As far as I know He thinks of you in pleasant terms. My name, my true name, is Azaziel. One of the fallen, which is why I've learned to lie, and can pretend to be one of your people, Keeley. My guess is, if you don't retain a proper memory of that event, then Michael was the one that approached you. Do you know why? I... know that one actually. It's pretty clear, isn't it? The very fact that you aren't trying to kill me at this moment is why, I would guess. The fallen, and before you ask, no that doesn't mean we rebelled against Him. It simply means that we agreed to be changed to better serve the creatures of the greater world. If we did not, then even those such as yourself could not see or remember us. It is a celestial trait. One put in place centuries ago. Perhaps longer than that. Time does not always run smoothly for my kind, so the truth is that I'm not perfectly certain." He kept walking, and didn't speak again until they were in a small room, that held several soft looking chairs and a fireplace, which wasn't going at the moment, just standing empty. It was rough stone, laid in with grout, but looked nice, in a slightly rustic kind of way.

  "So, these things are real and you aren't just screwing with me because I'm the newb?"

  Rather than answer instantly, Gregor sat, his body not making a sound as he did.

  "Well, it's one or the other, isn't it? It really is the first one, but I'd love to get out of this without a fight, if possible, so if you need to believe something else, I can work with that, too."

  Without nodding or moving in any way, she thought about that. It was reasonable, if you were talking to a being that you naturally assumed was incapable of knowing what you really were.

  She'd used the same trick herself, once or twice.

  Only now she could see just how damned annoying it was.

  Chapter twelve