The Fallen

by R. J. Wolf

  “And what does this one finds so funny?” Antwon asked angrily.

  “You’re a…leprechaun?”

  “And so what of it?” Antwon puffed his chest up and straightened his back. At nearly seven feet, he wasn’t the image on the Lucky Charms box that Eric thought of. He was an enormous man, with bulging muscles and tough skin that resembled the hide of a boar.

  “No offense. I’ve just never met one.”

  “Well ya ain’t met me now have you. And I reckon I’ve never seen the likes of your kind neither.”

  “Gentlemen,” Safron pleaded then turned to Eric. “Antwon can be a little sensitive about his race.”

  “You won’t find no sensitivity here!” Antwon roared in dispute.

  “But,” Safron continued. “He’s by far the best blacksmith you’ll find in this world.”

  “In all the damn worlds.”

  “In all the damn worlds,” Safron corrected. “Antwon take a look at this.”

  Safron handed him the revolver. He held it underneath his desk light and rubbed his fingers across the surface.

  “Lovely work,” he whispered. “Crafted by someone who takes pride in the old ways.”

  “Do you think you can make some bullets more befitting than these?” Safron and asked and dropped the handful of shells beside the gun.

  Antwon looked back at Eric then nodded to Safron. “I suppose so. Now get the hell out of here.”

  CHAPTER 14

  THE DEVIL WITHIN

  Eric woke up later than usual after spending the night touring the hotel with Safron. He rolled out of bed and checked his phone. There were no calls or messages, so he tossed it onto the nightstand where he found his revolver and a handwritten note.

  Mr. Strange, I hope these come in handy as Safron tells me you intend to venture to the land below. Due take care Mr. Strange and aim true.

  The Leprechaun

  Eric laughed and picked up a small, wooden box beside his gun. He slid open the lid and found a dozen silver cartridges that sent a radiating light throughout the room. Gawking, he grabbed one of the shells and turned it over in his hand.

  “Amazing power,” he said, or maybe it was the voice in his head.

  The bullet was heavy and felt like just throwing it would take down an elephant. He grabbed six and filled the cylinder to his gun then slammed it closed. He hoped he’d never have to use them, but he was learning that California played by an entirely different set of rules.

  With a strained face, Eric grabbed the small glass vial from his nightstand and held it up. Drinking this will help but it is not all you need to return. I warn you, Mr. Strange, coming back from hell will take every ounce of your power. Safron’s words echoed in his head.

  He didn’t even know what Safron meant. But to him it didn’t matter. In less than two weeks, he was going to get Anna. That was the only thing he needed to know.

  Once Eric was dressed, he headed down the hall to Gary’s room and banged his fist on the door. “Gary! Wake up!”

  When no one answered he dialed his number and listened to the ring until it rolled to voicemail. “Gary…where are you? Call me back.”

  Stuffing the phone into his pocket, he made his way downstairs. The lobby was mostly empty except for the staff and a few guests. During the day most underworlders did their best to blend in with the humans and the ones that couldn’t kept to themselves until the sun went down.

  “Safron,” Eric called out.

  He was behind the counter going through receipts with a dark-haired elf. He looked up and smiled as Eric approached.

  “Mr. Strange.”

  “Do you ever sleep?”

  “It is not essential.”

  “Have you seen Gary?”

  “Mr. Abbott…no, I haven’t. If he would’ve come in, I would’ve known about it.”

  “Ok thanks, Safron,” Eric replied and turned to leave.

  “Mr. Strange, I did upgrade your account to allow full access of the hotel’s amenities,” Safron said and held out an access card. “This will get you to all the right places.”

  Eric turned around and grabbed the card. It was black with no markings or numbers and cold to the touch like ice. “Thank you,” he said skeptically.

  “You’ll find the hotel is much more expansive than you would think. Make it a point to visit the cellar when you have time.”

  “Will do, Safron.” Eric smiled and started to walk out again before pausing. “Safron, have you ever been wrong before?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “About anything. Has your information ever been wrong?”

  Safron grinned. “I’m certain there have been times when I’ve been misled. It’s my job to limit those.”

  “Well, I think you’re wrong about Richard’s coven.” Before Safron could reply, Eric walked through the door and headed outside.

  Gary’s Corvette was still parked out front. Eric stared at it and sighed. Gary was a drunk and all but disappearing wasn’t really his thing and the last time he’d gone missing he was kidnapped.

  “Cortez,” Eric mumbled angrily.

  He thought back to the meeting at Molly’s Place. That’s where he needed to start. That was the last time he’d seen Gary.

  Without thinking, his hand moved to the amulet around his neck. It warmed to his touch and hummed. He closed his eyes and could feel a tingling sensation in his stomach. Like something was tugging him forward by the waist. In his mind he could see the inside of Molly’s Place, he could almost smell the aroma of fries and roast beef sandwiches, and hear the buzz of chatter filling the air.

  The sensation grew stronger and he reached his hand out but something smacked him hard in the back of the head. He opened his eyes and whirled around to find Bass standing behind him with a greedy smile running from ear to ear.

  “I knew you had something special,” Bass elated. “Share…share just a little.”

  “Didn’t Laurel take you to the gray?”

  “So, what if she did?”

  “How did you get out?”

  Bass chuckled. “Been through worse, escaped from better. You gonna share, or what?”

  Eric shuffled back a step.

  “Come on,” Bass pleaded and rubbed his fingers together. “Let me just hold that pretty piece for a minute, just a second. That’s all I need.” He reached out for the amulet and Eric slapped his hand away.

  “I ain’t gonna take it. Just wanna a little taste is all.”

  “Laurel was here last night. I’m thinking you might wanna take off before she comes out.”

  Bass snarled, flashing his decaying teeth and obsidian gums. Eric dismissed him and turned to walk off but as he stepped away, Bass started to shake and whip his head from side to side like he was having a seizure.

  “Bass?” Eric called and grabbed his arm.

  Bass reached out and latched onto the sides of Eric’s face and jumped forward. “She’ll get hers,” he growled. “When they do it, when they open that shade for good, she’ll get hers and then she’ll wish she was in the gray.” Bass jumped back and let out a crazed cackle then ran off.

  Eric wanted to run after him but he had enough problems. Instead he closed his eyes and grabbed the amulet again. This time he thought hard on the diner, thought about where he sat the last time he was there and the overweight waiter that he suspected of spitting in his water. He thought until everything else faded away and when he opened his eyes he was standing right outside of Molly’s Place.

  “Move it asshole,” someone snapped from behind him.

  Eric turned around as a heavy-set man with bristly hair sprouting from his face, pushed his way past him and opened the door.

  “Sorry,” Eric mumbled. He moved to the side then stared down at his hands then his legs and poked at himself. Shrugging, he smiled then walked inside.

  “Sit where ya like,” the dark-haired hostess said nonchalantly. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Eric hesitated then f
ound a seat near a window and browsed the menu. He planned on snooping so he figured best to do it with some food in his stomach. He hadn’t eaten there the last time he came but he figured it was pretty hard to mess up scrambled eggs.

  The diner was mainly empty but that wasn’t shocking. According to Castillo it was a neutral hangout for vampires and lycan. Neither kept early hours so the few zeroes scattered around seemed pretty normal.

  After ten minutes had passed, the same hostess finally stopped beside Eric’s table and clicked her teeth. He looked up and she half-smiled then let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Um, I’ll take a coffee,” Eric said as if it was a question. “And the scrambled eggs…I also wanted to know—”

  The hostess turned and ran off before Eric could finish his sentence.

  “Rude,” he grumbled under his breath.

  Staring out of the window, he waited for her to return. His leg shook nervously and he started to tinker with the amulet again. The relic welcomed his touch and he couldn’t escape the familiar sensation that it gave him. Somehow, he knew the amulet and it knew him but he didn’t know how.

  “We’re all out of eggs,” the waitress spat, slamming down a white mug and spilling the hot drink onto the table. She had a tray balanced in her other hand with dirty dishes and a steaming pot of coffee.

  “What?”

  “You’re gonna have to order something else.”

  “But I wanted it eggs. It’s 10 o’clock in the morning, how can you be out of eggs?”

  “We just are. Look, order something else or drink the coffee and go on about your day.”

  Eric twisted his face and glared at her. He felt his anger flare up and he swallowed his words then tipped the coffee to his lips.

  “Good,” the woman replied before turning to head back to the kitchen.

  “Wait!”

  “What now?”

  “I’m looking for someone. Older white guy, blonde hair, about six foot two. Probably drunk?”

  The woman stared at Eric in silence for a few moments then frowned. “It’s two, seventy-five for the coffee,” she said then marched off.

  Eric grumbled under his breath and the amulet vibrated like it was speaking to him. He grinned then held the medallion in his hand and took another sip of his coffee. Suddenly, there was a loud crash and when Eric looked up, the hostess was lying flat on her back and a pot of freshly brewed coffee had spilled on her face.

  He gasped and looked back to the amulet as it radiated. Reaching into his pocket, he took out three dollars, threw them onto the table then rushed outside. He looked over his shoulder and hurried down the walkway until he was a block away from the diner.

  Ahead he could see the trail that led down to the beach. He took a seat on one of the benches and took a deep breath. “What the hell are you?” he asked and yanked at the medallion.

  “Hey!” a familiar voice called out to him.

  Eric jumped. He looked up and found a slim blonde woman with green eyes standing a few feet away, smiling at him. He recognized her from the other night and smiled back as he jogged his memory for her name.

  “Sherry, Shannon…Sh—”

  “Shanna,” she cut him off with a laugh.

  “I was getting there.”

  “I bet you were. What are you doing here?”

  “I was looking for some…nothing. Just seemed like a nice place to sit.”

  Shanna raised her eyebrows then joined him on the bench. “So, any news?”

  “News?”

  “Yeah, commission business? You and the old guy helping to take down the establishment. All that stuff.”

  Eric shook his head and blinked. “Sorry, just have a lot on my mind. Gary’s still looking into it.”

  “Well, the two of you better figure it out. The clock is ticking and I haven’t seen much of the commission at all.”

  Eric turned to face her and wrinkled his brow. “What does that mean?”

  “It means I haven’t seen them.”

  “Has anyone?”

  “Not anyone I talk to. Since the meeting the other night, haven’t caught wind of an agent. Thought maybe you guys had done something.”

  Eric didn’t reply. He lowered his head and stared at the ground. Frowning, he let out an exhausted sigh and rubbed his hands across his face.

  “Look,” Shanna started and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know much about you. You seem like a nice guy and all and from what I hear you can handle yourself, but maybe you’re in over your head. This commission stuff, it’s been going on for years. They’ve always meddled too much and now with the shade approaching, we’ve just had enough. Maybe this isn’t your fight.”

  Eric turned to face her. He felt a rush of anger swell inside of him and he tried to swallow it down but there was no stopping the tide. Jumping to his feet, he slapped her hand away and scowled. “Not my fight! Do you know where I was for the last five years? Do you?” he yelled.

  Shanna glared at him then started to answer but Eric cut her off.

  “I was in hell! Not in some dead-end job or crappy relationship. Not a figure of speech but the actual place. All because this is my fight.” He squeezed his fists together and clenched his jaw. Small beads of sweat started to roll down his forehead and he turned and took a few steps away before whirling around to face her again. “When you were prancing around, playing tag with vamps or fetch with the lycans, I was bleeding, dying to keep your pitiful existence alive.”

  “You don’t know anything about me!” Shanna suddenly shouted and leapt to her feet. She grabbed Eric by the shirt and shoved him backward.

  “And you think you know something about me? What do you know about fighting anyway? A hunter…pathetic.” The words were flowing like a river and Eric couldn’t control any of it. “Look at you. Weak, frail, scared! What could you do, what would you do if I wanted to hurt you? If I really wanted to hurt you, how could you stop me?”

  Shanna moved like lightning, yanking the dagger from her belt and stepping around Eric in one fluid motion. She was at his back, dagger raised and ready to strike. “I’m not weak!” she growled.

  Eric glanced over his shoulder then slowly turned around. She stood face to face with him, almost taunting him to make the next move. Eric grinned then reached out and grabbed Shanna’s wrist. A jolt of electricity shot through her hand and the dagger became searing hot.

  “Ouch!” she screamed and dropped the blade.

  Burn her. Burn it all, burn everything. The voice in Eric’s head came to life. He could feel the darkness swelling, filling every corner of his mind, stretching its greedy fingers into his soul until they’d become one. “Show me,” Eric said in a grumbling voice. “Show me that you’re not weak.”

  Shanna’s eyes were wide, the color drained from her face. Swallowing, she took a swing with her free hand but Eric caught it and shoved her away. He bore down on her as flames erupted from his hands, swirling around his fingers like snakes.

  His thoughts screamed for murder, for blood and fire and rage. There was a monster inside of him, begging to be unleashed. And as he reached forward with his hand, he could feel the surge of pure evil, trying to take over.

  “Stop it!” Eric suddenly yelled.

  He wrestled back control and staggered into the bench. Shanna was gawking at him, fear drenched across her face laced with confusion and anger.

  “What the hell!” she roared.

  Before Eric could respond, Shanna took a few steps in retreat then turned and bolted down the walkway.

  “Shanna,” he called after her feebly. In shock, Eric clambered onto the bench and sat down. He stared at his hands as if they belonged to someone else. They couldn’t be his, the voice, the thoughts none of it belonged to him.

  As his fingers trembled, he lowered his head and breathed deliberately. It’d taken all of his will to fight whatever darkness was amassing inside of him. He knew he wouldn’t win against it a second time. He needed help, and he needed
it now.

  CHAPTER 15

  STEPPING OUT OF THE SHADOWS

  “Thanks,” Eric said and stepped out of the Nissan Versa. He shook off the feeling from the shadow cast by the hotel and stared ahead to the entrance. Whispers traveled on the wind but he refused to listen, the garbled speech wouldn’t bring anything good.

  It was barely past noon and the sun was burning bright in the cloudless sky. The fall weather had relented momentarily and Eric could smell the heat, the dry air singing his nose hairs with each breath.

  As he closed the car door, the Uber driver shouted after him. “Don’t forget, five stars.”

  Eric held his phone up, displaying the screen and smiled. The scraggily man smiled back and rubbed the side of his bristly face. Satisfied, he pulled away from the ominous looking building and headed back toward the city.

  Eric rubbed the amulet around his neck and wrinkled the corner of his mouth. “I can still pretend to be normal,” he mumbled.

  He headed into the hotel then made a beeline for the front desk. Safron smiled as he approached and just before he spoke, the phone rang.

  “Hello,” Safron answered dryly. “Yes, we do. Well, we don’t disclose matters such as those. Do you have a name? Yes, as a matter of fact, he’s right here.” Safron frowned and held the phone out for Eric.

  “What?”

  “It’s for you. He says it’s important.”

  Eric took the phone and slowly brought it to his ear. A grumbling voice boomed from the other side. “Agent Strange?”

  “Langston?”

  “Good afternoon, Agent Strange. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad a time.”

  Eric didn’t answer. Anything he said to Langston would be too much. But he couldn’t stay silent forever. It was best to deal with Langston head on. “How can I help you, councilman?”

  “You can consider this a courtesy call. I’ll be heading to the area within the week.”

  Eric grinned. If Langston was telling him, that meant he was already there. And had probably been there for a week. “What brings you to the west coast?” Eric asked as if they were old friends.