Beyond the Veil (Demon Squad Book 5)

by Tim Marquitz

  With hopes of diverting the train of my awkward thoughts, I changed the subject. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Longinus pointed to the tub. “We’ll use that as a reservoir. Have the fiends line up and fill it.”

  I waved the sub-demons over to the pool, telling them what I wanted. Despite being ordered to kill themselves, they shuffled in, the first clambering up the broken stairs without hesitation. It ripped open its throat with its claws and lay down with its neck over the tub. The one behind grabbed its legs and raised it up so the blood gushed faster, tossing the first’s body off to the side when it was done before following its example into the abattoir. The pungent tang of fresh claret, mixed with that of the decaying bodies, made the room reek something fierce.

  “How’s this gonna work?”

  “The blood will fuel the opening of the gate and provide me with additional power to protect us for the majority of the journey without me having to expend my own energy.”

  Always a catch. “The majority?”

  He nodded. “The last of the trip will be…uncomfortable, most certainly.”

  Uncomfortable was doctor slang for, ‘I’ve never been dumb enough to submit to this procedure, so I really don’t know how painful it actually is, but the test subjects all shit tears and begged to be put out of their misery.’

  “Don’t worry, Frank. We’ll be fine. The blood of the fiends will lubricate our passage, so to speak, easing our transition between worlds.”

  Famous last words and the perfect setup for an anal violation joke. He was really egging fate on. I let the opportunity for sarcasm slip away and wondered if this was what maturity was supposed to feel like. If so, it was disappointing. I hustled the fiends through their bloodletting as quickly as I could get them to move. At this point, I didn’t see much purpose in waiting around to die, so we might as well get on with it.

  Longinus waited until the pool was about halfway full, bodies piling up, before he began. “Keep them at it even after we’ve gone. I’ll need all of their blood.” He raised his arms like a conductor and I felt his power well up, the hair on my arms standing at attention as I passed along the directive.

  A cold breeze swept through the room. It wasn’t strong, but it chased the odeur de rotting skunk ass away and sent tiny bits of debris skittering along the wreckage. I sucked in a deep breath for the first time since I’d been in the room and watched him go to town. There was no graceful ballet of magical artistry behind his casting, but something I could better relate to: brute force.

  Longinus didn’t tease and coerce, he hammered and threatened the spell into place. It was like watching a prime Chuck Liddell bash in Tito Ortiz’s face. Magical fists slammed into the pentacle over and over and over, rage focused and targeted with precision. There was a quiet hum building, the tension in the room ratcheted up a notch at a time, grinding on my senses. I could feel the pressure against my skull as though an elephant squatted on my head. My eyes watered. Tears streamed down my cheeks without restraint. I gasped and struggled to draw a breath, and then the pressure was gone.

  Silence settled over the room, the tinnitus ring in my ears the only sound I could hear. I glanced back to Longinus and there was a sudden rush of darkness between us, a curtain that obscured him from view. It poured from the pentacle as it would from a giant faucet. I looked closer and realized it was blood. My eyes went to the tub just as a gulping bubble exploded along the surface, the pool being steadily drained of fluid despite no obvious means of doing so. Longinus stepped around the dripping wall of blackness with a grin.

  “Our ride is here.” He held his hand out to me. Instinctively, I reached out, his massive fingers enveloping mine. I felt like a little kid. Before I had time to psychoanalyze that thought, he tugged me forward.

  I felt the warm wetness of blood splatter across me as I was pulled through the curtain, and then I was far too busy screaming to worry about it.

  Four

  There was an obvious sense of our arrival at a sudden lack of crushing pressure. I went from undefinable agony to feeling like I’d been given a sandpaper massage, doused in alcohol, set on fire, and forced to listen to Nicki Minaj croon the ingredients on a cereal box, all at the same time. It was a relief let me tell you. If I didn’t know what the real Hell was like, I would liken it to what I’d just experienced. It was Jersey Shore bad.

  The vibrating of my brain slowed to a stop, and my vision shuttered into focus like a movie projector on cocaine. My cheek lay against something similar in feel to grass. It was cool and comforting in comparison to the journey between dimensions. My skin felt braised. All I needed was some barbeque sauce and I’d be ready to serve. I could only imagine what Karra had experienced, bereft of the inherent magical energy of the dread fiends’ blood. That thought sickened me worse than the portal lag.

  “Are you okay?” Longinus’ question was a sonic boom. I flailed my arms in what I imagined was a shooing motion and tried to burrow into the ground to escape the thunder of his voice. “I’ll take that as a no.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my knees. The world wobbled before my eyes, and I was serenaded by an oddly familiar series of crashes and shouts and meaty reverberations. “Well, Triggaltheron,” we were back to that, “I suggest you pull it together because it would appear we’ve a bit of a welcoming party.”

  I craned my neck and looked past the blob of shadow that was Longinus only to see another blob racing toward us, this one spread out and moving strangely serpentine. Sharp pokey bits shimmered in the gloomy, pseudo-sunlight. Adrenaline filled in the gaps and cleared a couple of the cobwebs. Lots of bared teeth and dirty looks appeared out of the mist clouding my brain cells. It didn’t take much beyond that for it to sink in that we were under attack. I’m quick like that.

  Longinus growled, his voice feral enough to make a lion rethink its place in the food chain. “Join me when you can, boy.”

  The last bit stung a little as he galloped off to meet the…uh, aliens—for lack of a better name. He hit them full on, his blade cutting a swath through their ranks. Despite the fairly humanoid features, the guts that spilled from the wounds were a brilliant green in sharp contrast to the orange of their exposed skin. Ropy entrails fell at their feet as Longinus scythed along the line, adding limbs and all manner of gore to the piles building up. My mind finally kicked into full gear at the sight, and I dug my guns out of their holsters from beneath the loose jacket I’d worn to conceal them. There was no way I was up to casting any magic just yet so bullets would have to do.

  My first impression of the aliens charging us had been that there were thousands of them. Able to see now without the blurred after effects of inter-dimensional whiplash, my estimate slipped below three digits, dropping lower every second Longinus stood amongst them despite being hampered by our trip. There was a palpable sense of uncertainty in their advance, which didn’t seem to be caused entirely by Longinus. Their approach felt more like a retreat, but they weren’t gonna give me time to ponder that feeling. They were almost on top of me. I added to the body count by shooting one in the face before they closed.

  The zebra-like stripes that lined its face and culminated at the bridge of its nose—a marking they all bore, which made them hard to tell apart without close scrutiny—sank into a pool of black. Whatever passed for its brains exploded out the back of its skull as if I’d stuck a firecracker in a bowl of toxic Jell-O. I’m pretty sure I giggled, but as interesting as it was to watch the spew of colors, the wall of aliens surged and came barreling down on me.

  There was no place to run so I raised both guns and turned them loose directly ahead of me. Three or four of the aliens stumbled and crashed, the rest of my shots punching a hole in the line to give me some breathing room. It wasn’t much, but it looked like all I was gonna get. They ran by, not bothering to truly engage, and swiped at me with makeshift swords and clubs. I could have sworn I saw a pitchfork fly past. This was no organized army; it was a damn rabble.

  That fact d
idn’t stop them from trying to kill me, however half-assed. I put an elbow into the temple of one who stabbed at me and instantly regretted my attempt at hand-to-hand. Lactic acid seared through my muscles as if I’d mainlined the sun. My fingers tingled all the way to my ass, and I could barely feel the grips of my pistols, my hands going numb. I put a bullet in the alien’s dome to keep him down, grateful I could still hold onto my gun against the kick.

  A few more shots deterred those closest to me, and gave me a few seconds to reload. Fresh mags clicked into the .45s, a gout of fire roared to life not ten feet from where I stood. A number of the aliens screamed and curled up beneath the flames, bugs wilting under a torch as it burned through the ranks. The essence of the fire pinged against my senses, telling me the source of it was magical. My eyes trailed along the spout and saw the hand it spewed from.

  I was surprised to recognize an angel at the end of it. She wasn’t some alien concoction like Xyx or Black and White, Lucifer’s freaky minions out here, but an honest-to-goodness angel from back home…well, not exactly my home but Heaven. Close enough for government work.

  Her magenta eyes turned to appraise me. There was an obvious confusion that washed across her face, the lines doing nothing to dampen her beauty. Like my cousin Scarlett, the angel was the personification of human gorgeousness; all the curves in proper proportion to my libido. She probably didn’t know who I was, but she certainly knew what I was, just as I did her. One of these things isn’t like the other. She strafed the area around me, giving my position a wide berth, making it clear she had no intention of coming any closer. The aliens, however, weren’t given any other choice.

  The point of a short spear drew a red crease along my biceps before I’d even realized it had been thrown. Too busy trying to look up the angel’s fluttering skirts, I’d nearly been skewered. Yet another unfortunate epitaph I missed out on. Pissed at my ruined effort, I followed the trajectory and capped the bastard who’d thrown it and shot the one next to him for shits-and-giggles. They both dropped just before Longinus barreled through the remainder. Bloody pieces flew apart in his wake. He skirted around the flames and dove deeper into the enemy lines, which had stalled about a hundred feet from where I stood.

  None of the aliens on top of me, I had a chance to look around a little. My original sense that the aliens attacking us were actually running away was confirmed. There wasn’t just one angel, but dozens. They fluttered in the misty air like malevolent lightning bugs, bursts of fire and magical light streaking downward to scorch extraterrestrial ass. A small ground force was just visible beyond the mass of aliens, covered by the angels above, but it was impossible to pick out any details. Bodies slumped and striped people kept running as the group pressed forward.

  “It seems we’ve interrupted something,” Longinus said at my side. I hadn’t even realized he’d returned. “So much for stealth.”

  He was right. An uncomfortable sigh slipped from my lips. Given that I’d recognized the angels as those from Earth, it was pretty clear that these were God’s soldiers. While I was certain He wouldn’t be leading them Himself, our stumbling onto them was us knocking over the first domino in line. It wouldn’t be long before they tumbled all the way to His door. And then what?

  “What do we do now?”

  “We wait.” He sheathed his sword with a little extra oomph, making it clear he wasn’t pleased.

  I nodded and put my guns away. We’d already been spotted and identified—at least our general make and model—so it didn’t pay to come off looking aggressive. A couple billion miles from home, far from where we should be, it wouldn’t take much provocation for these angels to light us up. And however good Longinus might be feeling, I sure as shit wasn’t up for duking it out with the Choir.

  Every muscle in my body throbbed, and my head felt like Gene Hoglan’s kick drums. The double-bass thump was rattling my teeth. My hands trembled and nothing I did could get them to stop. I wasn’t afraid, at least not any more than usual, but our jaunt across worlds had kicked my rectum in a few feet and there was no telling how long it would take to reset. Fortunately, though it might be unfortunately—I hadn’t decided yet—the battle came to an abrupt halt. The last of the aliens, those who hadn’t already beat feet and vanished into the wild of wherever the hell we were, fell beneath the grinding wave of the angels’ assault. The group that crushed their flank was joined by the flying angels. All combined, there were probably thirty of the Choir, and they tromped over to where we stood en masse. I heard what I could have sworn was a groan slip out of Longinus. My gaze drifted to him but his eyes were locked on the approaching angels. Well, one in particular.

  Tallish and handsome in a non-traditional movie star kind of way, more middle-aged Clint Eastwood than Brad Pitt, the leader of the group stood out amongst the rest. His long hair flowed over his shoulders in black waves, piercing brown eyes staring out from above his bronzed and defined cheeks. He didn’t carry any weapons and wore little more than what looked like black khakis and a loose fitting, long T-shirt. A smile broke the curious mask of his face. Longinus stiffened beside me.

  “Well, well, well,” the new arrival said. His voice propelled the words with both force and clarity; a natural orator despite the obvious sarcasm attached. “Look who we have here.” He bowed shallow, his gaze steady on us the whole time.

  “Jesus.” Longinus didn’t bother to feign respect as he spoke, the weight of the man’s name sinking into my brain.

  This was the Jesus Christ, the Son of God Himself. Our running into him couldn’t have been more serendipitous in the worst way possible. The very last thing I wanted was for Longinus to figure out how I was really related to Lucifer and here was Jesus, the karmic opposite of me, popping up out of the blue. There was no telling if he knew anything, but there was no way his Dad didn’t. Things were about to get real crappy, real soon.

  “It’s been a long time, Maximus, or do you prefer Longinus?”

  “Either is fine with me,” the ex-Anti-Christ answered, a subtle shift in his demeanor pushing aside his apparent discomfort. “Maximus is what my mother called me, but Longinus carries a comfortable stigma I’ve grown to appreciate. I’ve such fond memories of that era of my life.”

  The angels shuffled uncomfortably around Jesus, likely waiting on the order to attack. It was clear the animosity between the two foes hadn’t dimmed in all the years since Longinus stuck his spear into Jesus’ side and stole the earthly essence of his power. It had been a bold move, a demon evoking a soul transfer in the midst of a crowd of humans.

  When he dropped to his knees in the throes of the transfer, claiming the truth of Christ’s parentage, he’d earned a place in the history of man and demon-kind. He’d even been sainted in certain circles, a sinner who had supposedly seen the truth and repented at the last. That must have chapped Jesus’ hide knowing the truth of what happened and how misunderstood it had all been.

  “I’m sure you do…Maximus. I’m sure you do, but those days are behind us.” Jesus smiled, clearing the gloom. “What you’ve stolen has long since been replaced. Three days of discomfort and done. It was as though it never happened.”

  “But it most certainly did, Christ. I’ll not forget the moment, but I’m afraid I have no time to reminisce.” He started to turn away. The squad of angels shifted as though to stop him.

  “You might not feel the desire to twist the knife in deeper, old friend, and I’m fine with that, but unfortunately for us both, my Father wishes to have a word with you before you gallivant about the realm.”

  Longinus shook his head. “Tell God I’m humbled by his request, but I’ll pass.”

  “I think you might want to reconsider. He was insistent that you honor his request; quite insistent, I must say.”

  There it was: the pissing match to end all pissing matches. Christ versus former Anti-Christ; both empowered with the same energies, and each absolutely despising the other. And here I stood, right smack dab in the fucking middle of
it. I took a half step away while smiling at the angels. Didn’t want them to get antsy, thinking I was trying to run. Though judging by the looks on their faces, that was probably the wise choice. If Jesus and Longinus threw down, I was gonna catch a hell of an ass beating before their scrap was done. And for once, I hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

  “Come on, fellas. Can’t we all just get along?” I asked, hoping to defuse things before they got out of hand. It worked for Rodney King.

  Jesus didn’t even look at me, but Longinus snuck a furtive glance. Fury and impatience lined his features, mixing with what I hoped was the burgeoning appearance of reason. He looked back to the Son and drew a deep breath before letting it out with glacial slowness. “I did not come to banter with you, Christ, nor did I come to heed the beck and call of your master.”

  And here we go, I thought in my best Mike Goldberg impression. I could feel the angels’ magic welling up as they readied to enforce their Lord’s edict. My hands shifted toward my guns. This was gonna hurt, but they weren’t gonna stop me from hunting for Karra.

  Longinus surprised me. “Offer me and Triggaltheron your word of free passage, Christ, that you or your Father will do nothing to retard our purpose here, and I will meet with Him.”

  “I’d be a fool to give you such free rein.”

  “Perhaps, but you’d be more of a fool if you believed the Almighty would want you placed at risk given the current climate of hostility you find yourselves in.” Longinus grinned. “I’ve no stake in your war, nor any interest in it, truth be told, but I have no problem depriving your Father of his assets should they—should you—choose to stand in my way.” He took a short step closer to Jesus as the angels tensed. “Treat fair with me, so we can each be about our business and be done with one another.”