Protected by the Damned BoxedSet 2

by Michael Todd

  “I have brought you your demons,” Moloch growled.

  The men lined up and stood straight with their hands clasped in front of them. Moloch approached each, breathing the soul of the chosen demon into the human body. The newly infected’s head would tilt back and drop forward as the demon situated itself inside. Once all had received their demon, the six men looked at Moloch. Their eyes glowed bright red as their muscles twitched and strengthened. The demons were already modifying their humans, making them as strong as they could for the moment.

  Demons thought of the human body as armor. The longer it took to get through that armor, the longer the demon stayed on Earth.

  “You are now holding the keys to all of our futures,” Moloch told them. “Your sacrifices will not go unnoticed, and when the task is done you will be rewarded for your valor.”

  Even as Moloch spoke of rewards, he knew that he would dispose of these humans when he was done with them, keeping their souls for the fireplace in his office.

  They were nothing to him, but he knew how the human mind worked. To get them to cooperate, he had to stroke their egos.

  He was capable of controlling men better than women, since females were more grounded in their own thoughts. That was why he used the women as watchers, but turned these six strong men into demon beings.

  Moloch paced in front of the men. “These so-called Damned have been exterminating our kind for far too long. They have grown stronger and smarter, and have learned to manipulate demons for personal gain. This is not only defiant, but disrespectful to our Master. We will no longer stand by and allow our brothers and sisters to be sacrificed for man’s greed. If they refuse to share we will take it all, and we will leave no man standing!”

  The six men let out a battle cry and shook their heads, but the others cowered in the back, wondering if they had made a mistake. Moloch seemed stronger and more powerful than before; his stature dwarfed the newly possessed.

  Moloch sneered at the humans cowering in the corner.

  “Look at them,” Moloch demanded, pointing at a girl who had sunken down and was crying. “They are weak! They are letting their fear rule them, but we embrace our fear and allow it to give us even more power. It is time these Damned know what it is to fight those who freely accept the gift of the Enlightened.”

  Moloch clapped his large hands together loudly. “Demons! Come forth.”

  The human bodies moved and shifted and the demons’ apparitions flickered and shimmered in the faces of the six men. They hissed and growled to show reverence to their leader. They were ready—just as ready as the humans they had overtaken—to set forth on and accomplish their missions. They wanted a place in Moloch’s favor just as Moloch wanted one with Lucifer, and they were ready to do whatever they could to make that happen.

  “Demons,” Moloch growled, “enhance your hosts. Make them as strong as they can handle, but allow the humans to fight for themselves. You are training them and boosting their powers; boosting their strengths, but do not completely take over their bodies. We need them to be like the Killers, walking unnoticed among the humans until trouble arises. But this time, we are the trouble. I expect you to be strong; there is no room for leniency here. If you are not, I promise you I will remember your lack of diligence and you too will become pretty fixtures on my walls, bound to hell for an eternity of torture.”

  The demons all nodded and retreated back into their human bodies. The humans raised their heads once again, their eyes shining brighter than before. Their bodies were tense, and they looked ready for a fight. Moloch smiled and ran his eyes over the group.

  His chuckles reverberated off the walls. “Be calm, my Enlightened, I will provide you with an opportunity to demonstrate your prowess soon.”

  Korbin poked his head into the training center, but no one was in there. He hadn’t anticipated a crowd that late in the evening, but he hadn’t seen anyone in hours. When he went outside he noticed Katie’s car, which was covered in sand, parked in the garage, but everything else was just as it had been the last time he saw it.

  “Dammit.” He scratched his head in frustration. His team was there somewhere; he just had to find the fools.

  Then it hit him: the hundred and ten-inch television had been delivered and Derek had hooked it up earlier that day. They were all in the family room.

  He made his way through the tunnels to the family room and smiled when he stepped inside, seeing everyone gathered on the couches and chairs. As he looked at the screen though, his nose crinkled; he was pretty sure the team was watching a soap opera. He hadn’t expected Rambo, but this was more than a surprise.

  Slowly he crept forward and perched on the arm of the large L-shaped couch that had been delivered, but nobody really noticed he was there. He tilted his head to watch as a young woman with blood on her dress cried and talked to very badly-portrayed aliens.

  “Do you go visit aliens with diamonds on your wrist?” Korbin asked.

  “Shhh!” the group hissed in unison.

  Stephanie scooted down the couch and tapped the seat next to her, then motioned with her head for him to sit when he didn’t move. He contemplated making a run for it, but he had made a tactical error by coming farther into the room than he should have.

  “Sit,” she whispered. “I’ll help you with your inner female and let you know what you missed in the story, because—let’s face it—you have far too much testosterone.”

  “Yeahhhh, boy.” Eric laughed as he glanced at Korbin. “The boss is getting involved in this one. His man-card is waving in the wind.”

  Derek shrugged. “I’d buckle if a pretty girl asked me to sit next to her.”

  Stephanie smiled and mouthed, “Thank you.” Korbin sighed and plopped down in the seat, raising his middle fingers in the air as everyone cheered and whistled.

  He figured that if this was what the team did together, he might as well get in on the action—though it seemed Damian had been smart and stayed as far away as possible.

  Sitting next to Stephanie wasn’t too bad of a deal either. He could feel the attraction between them when their thighs touched.

  “So, this is Veronika,” Stephanie explained. “The aliens kidnapped her boyfriend’s son and told him that to get him back he had to kill Veronika, so he stabbed her. Well, Tubu, one of the good aliens showed up just in time and took her through the wormhole and saved her life. Because she is a shmuck she is trying to get the little boy back so she can go back to Eddie and be a family again.”

  “He stabbed her?” Korbin asked, confused.

  “Bitches be cray cray!” Calvin shook his head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  General Brushwood stood in his office bathroom with his jacket and shirt hung on the back of the door.

  His white tee was as perfectly pressed as the rest of his uniform, and he had a white towel draped around his neck.

  His face was covered in shaving cream and he slowly pulled a razor over his skin, trimming his five o’ clock shadow. He had been so busy that shaving had taken a back seat, and as an officer in command he needed to look his best at all times—even if he was in the trenches battling it out with the rest of them.

  When he had accepted the position with the organization he knew it would be a challenge, but he hadn’t thought it would be so hands-on. So much for staying in and not retiring.

  This assignment won’t be so bad. I’ll rest here and make a difference. He swished his razor in the water and took off another couple of rows of whiskers. What a cockup.

  Tchaikovsky was playing on the radio and he hummed along, trying to take himself to a calmer, more relaxed place. Shaving was one of those things that helped him relax; “me time,” as his late wife used to call it. Just as he was really getting into it, a voice spoke his name from inside the office.

  “General Brushwood?” Colonel Jehovivich called when she didn’t see him.

  The general sighed and put down his razor, poking his head out of the open bathroom do
or with shaving cream still on his face. “This better be good, Colonel.”

  “There you are, sir. Your secretary was at lunch and I heard the music, so I assumed you were in here and I didn’t need to sound the alarm.”

  “I’m pretty sure that I am more than secure in here, Colonel.” The general ducked back into the bathroom to finish shaving. “What is so important that you have to come all the way down from your office to tell me? I have very little alone-time anymore—which is something I would like to eventually remedy—so this better be of the utmost importance. If it isn’t, come back later.”

  “I do apologize for interrupting your private time,” she told him. “We got a call I thought you would like to take.”

  “Is it the President?” he asked.

  “No, sir.” She smiled.

  “Is it God?”

  “No, not God, sir.” She chuckled.

  “Then I don’t see the relevance,” he replied, leaning out and staring at her.

  “Well, you had told me that if either of the mercs from the Virginia operation ever called to make sure that you were notified,” she told him.

  The general took the towel from around his neck and wiped the remaining shaving cream from his neck and earlobes. He rinsed his face with warm water, toweled it dry, and grabbed his shirt from the door. As he pulled it over his shoulders he stepped into the office.

  “Well, what did they say?” he asked.

  “They…well, she…is on line six, sir,” the colonel replied. “She insisted that she speak to you and only you. She said it would be a top-secret conversation.”

  “Really,” he grumbled, eyeing the colonel.

  He walked over to his desk and looked down at the phone, where line six was flashing. He finished buttoning his shirt and put his tie on before sitting down and getting comfortable. He looked at the colonel and motioned for her to shut the door. She scampered across and closed it, slowly making her way back and sitting down in front of him.

  He punched the button and put the phone on speaker. “This is General Brushwood.”

  “General, I don’t know if you remember me, but this is Katie from the Las Vegas mercenary team Korbin’s Killers,” she began. “My colleague and I helped out with the Virginia operations.”

  “Yes, Katie, how are you?” he asked in a pleasant enough voice, or at least he thought it was.

  “I’m well,” she replied. “I don’t want to take a ton of your time. I know you are a busy man, but I have a new product that I want to share with you. I think you will really find it useful.”

  “All right,” he responded. “Where would you like to meet?”

  “Well, it needs to be tested. I’d like you to be there for the testing, but I need an operation with demons. Do you have anything going on?”

  “I’ve always got ops with demons.” He chuckled. “Right now Louisiana seems to be the hot spot. We’ve had several incursions in a very short amount of time; a couple of days. I haven’t been out there yet, since I just got back from Texas where there was a high-casualty event.”

  “I heard about that,” Katie replied. “I’m sorry for the losses.”

  “Thank you. As far as the test, let’s make it Louisiana.”

  “Good,” Katie agreed sternly. “I’ll meet you in New Orleans.”

  Before he could say a word, she hung up. He looked at the phone and lifted his eyebrows, punching the button to turn off the speaker. He shook his head and sighed as he looked at the colonel.

  “I guess we are headed to New Orleans,” he told her. “I really need to have a talk with Korbin on polite phone manners. These mercs are like street urchins.”

  “They do have demons in them, sir,” the colonel pointed out.

  “Yes,” he agreed, rubbing his chin. “They do. Which means we always have to be on guard.”

  Katie waited in the chapel’s doorway as Damian finished up his evening prayers. The place looked amazing, even with his neon cross. He had festooned the walls with deep red draperies, set up tables with candles all over, and had the old pews redone by some of Stephanie’s girls. There was even a section at the front where pillows had been placed on the floor for lounging and relaxing.

  It looked like a trendy coffee shop rather than a chapel, but it fit Damian’s personality perfectly. He didn’t play by the rules. He was his own person and believed that his God loved him for that.

  Katie appreciated that about him, because he applied that philosophy to everyone in his life. He loved them no matter how weird, crazy, or sinful they were.

  When he was done he blew out the candle he was holding and set it back on the table, slowly getting to his feet with a grunt.

  Katie chuckled. “Getting old?”

  “You don’t know the half of it!” He smiled at her. “I wonder if there is a retirement plan for this type of work?”

  “Usually nobody makes it that long,” Katie replied with a grimace.

  “Truth.” Damian sighed. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need spiritual backup,” she told him. “I’m going to the Big Sleazy…Easy…shit! I’m going to New Orleans.”

  “All right.” Damian laughed. “When do we leave?”

  “Now.” She smiled. “Meet me at the chopper.”

  “Give me ten minutes.” He shook his head as he headed toward his room. “Always a surprise with you.”

  “You love me.” She waved over her shoulder as she went in the other direction.

  Katie grabbed her bags and went out to the chopper. She handed Damian a set of headphones when he climbed in behind her, and they took off for the airport to take the jet to New Orleans.

  “While we are in the air, I figured I would mention that I have two cases of the specialty 9mm bullets; one for us, and one for the general’s team.”

  “Ugh.” Damian groaned. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, Korbin knows,” Katie told him.

  “Do you really think this is a good idea?” He leaned forward and put his hand on Katie’s shoulder. “We are giving them the tools to wipe us out.”

  “They could always wipe us out,” Katie replied, turning to him. “A bullet to the brain kills human and demon alike. If we are going to move ahead in this war, we need to get past the old animosities and mistrust. We can’t fight demons if we are too busy fighting each other.”

  “That is both true and wise.” Damian sighed and leaned back in his seat. “I guess Korbin and me, we have a hard time swallowing it. We have been at this a lot longer than you, and we have been through the changes with different generals; through the animosity and mistrust. Even this new general, he wants our weapons. We know he is snooping around trying to find things out about us. It will be very hard for us to swallow a truce, much less believe that they will be forthcoming afterward. I just have a hard time trusting them.”

  “Then trust me,” Katie suggested. “This is my life, my business, and my family. I won’t let anyone, government or not, take what is rightfully mine. They will have to pry it from my cold dead hands.”

  “That is not beneath them,” Damian shot back.

  “Right, but do you really think Pandora would let that happen?”

  “No.” Damian chuckled. “They wouldn’t know what the fuck hit them.”

  Damn straight, Pandora agreed. And you can believe that none of them would have their dicks attached when we were done.

  Wow, always straight for the dick, Katie mused.

  I call it my “Peter Principle.”

  Why? I thought the Peter Principle was related to people rising to their level of incompetence?

  No, my Peter Principle is, if you want a man to know you are serious, good or bad, go for the family jewels. There is absolutely no way he doesn’t know you are serious if you have his peter in your hand. The difference is only in the amount of squeezing you are doing.

  So, never any miscommunication?

  It’s either pleasure or pain. A binary result. And if I ri
p it off? That’s always bad.

  Ooookayyyy… Katie returned her attention to Damian, away from the crazy dick-snatcher lady.

  “You have my trust,” Damian told her. “And I will support you in your endeavor to unite the craziness and forge forward.”

  “Thank you.” Katie smiled. “You’ll see why it’s a good idea. You just have to be patient.”

  Korbin watched as Katie and Damian took off in the chopper. He shook his head and ducked back inside to head toward his office.

  He wasn’t sure why Katie was so hell-bent on making friends with the general, but he knew she was in for a letdown. General Brushwood might be politer than the past leaders, but he was just as conniving, Korbin had seen it in his eyes when he had come to the old base.

  They had been snooping; trying to get the secrets, trying to find something to hold over their heads to force the weapons from their grasp.

  They are drowning out there, their military teams, and the mercs are all over it. They are trying to keep their heads above water, and making friends with the people who can do the job is the first order of business. After that, it’s all about power.

  He walked into his office and sat down at his desk, thinking about the general. He wanted the weapons, but he didn’t know quite what to do to get his hands on them.

  The weapons were the power in this situation, or at least Brushwood thought they were. Little did he know if the men couldn’t fight, if they were fragile humans, no weapons were going to make them better at demon-killing. They had teams of non-Damned trying to be superheroes, and it just wasn’t going to work. He shook his head and looked at a note sitting on top of the mess, which had his name written on it. He picked it up and unfolded it; it had Katie’s signature at the end.

  Dear Korbin,

  I knew this conversation would never happen face to face, so I figured I would write to you. Every day I watch the people on this team. I watch them laugh and cry. I watch them eat and sleep, and I watch them live…and I watch them die.