Beyond the Veil (Demon Squad Book 5)

by Tim Marquitz

  Nothing made any sense, not that it ever did in my world. “Deal with him? For what?”

  Christ rose up, puffing his chest out indignantly. “For the slaughter of my people.” Jesus didn’t say anything more. He was on Longinus before the words had even settled in my ears.

  They crashed together, spittle and blood flinging everywhere as they clashed. The air rumbled with discordant thunder as though the clouds were cheering them on, and I could feel the waft of Christ’s energy as it buffered my senses. The two were going at it like feral cats, and the very last thing I wanted to do was stick any part of me in between to stop them. A guy could lose a finger doing something stupid like that.

  As much as I wanted to let them sort this crap out for themselves, I knew I’d have to do something…and soon. While Jesus didn’t seem to be packing all of Daddy’s heat, it was pretty damn clear he was the alpha in this particular pack. Longinus was holding his own, but there was no way he would hold it for long. Battered and bone weary before they’d even started to get down, Longinus was already losing ground. Adding to the bruises and cuts, Jesus was using the ex-AC’s face for knuckle impressions. I could feel the energy vibrating through me as they traded blows, the street shaking beneath my feet. Both were conserving their magic, so there was no fireworks show or histrionics, but they sure weren’t holding back on trying to skull fuck each other with their fists.

  Though I knew I needed to intervene, Karra’s life at stake if Longinus lost, I hesitated. Something Jesus said had struck a sour chord. It plunked inside me, sounding over and over in my head. He had said, “…my people.”

  My eyes drifted from the brawl and traipsed over the bodies lying about. I went to the closest and poked and prodded it. There, in the crook of the armpit, like all the other Eidolon I’d checked, was the phoenix tattoo. Slowly—well, probably not that slowly, but it felt like it as my focus narrowed into a pinprick—I ignored the grunts and curses of the two combatants and checked as many of the other bodies as I could reach.

  While the shrapnel had punched a million holes in each of the aliens, I kept finding the tattoo on pieces of meat scattered across the field. I ran my hand across one and felt the flat skin of the design, a subtle fading along its lines. My heart thrummed as I ran back to examine several of the other tattoos I’d spied. It was hard to be certain, but most appeared as though they’d been inked long ago, far more so than…

  Oh…shit.

  I spun away from the corpses and raced toward the grappling pair. Jesus was getting the better of Longinus. He hovered over him, raining blows down as the ex-AC struggled to defend. No time to be subtle, I barreled straight at them. Christ looked up, his eyes narrowing, but that was all he had time for. I plowed into him, ducking my head and tucking my arms so I hit him flush with my forearms and elbows. We collided, two sacks of cement slamming into each other. I stumbled back a step or two, my momentum canceled by his last minute attempt at resistance, but he went flying. He hit the ground hard, kicking up a cloud of gray dust dotted with green specks as he tumbled into a crouch.

  “Demon!” The word roared out like a chainsaw coming to life.

  I stepped over Longinus, hands raised, as the ex-AC scrambled to gather his bearings. “The Eidolon are your minions?”

  Jesus stood, muscles coiled and ready to pounce. “Of course they are.”

  The indignation in his voice was a bucket of ice cold water thrown in my face. Of course they were his people. The phoenix was the symbol of rebirth, the idea of something returning to life from the ashes of a previous existence. Jesus was a phoenix—the phoenix if you wanted to be picky about the metaphor. That was why the guy I’d noticed at Jo’s shop walked the street without fear. He was wearing the symbol of the conquerors.

  Christ moved to re-engage Longinus but I stood between them, my hands up. All the while, unpleasant thoughts kept spinning around inside my skull.

  “Stand aside, demon,” Jesus warned. “This filth has slain the people of the Almighty. He must pay for his crimes.”

  I shook my head. “Wait. Just wait…please.” The Son hissed but stood his ground. He wanted Longinus but it was clear he wasn’t looking to drag Lucifer into the fight by putting me in the middle of their feud—not that I suspected Dad would care, but Jesus must have thought he would, for whatever reason.

  “What is this about, Triggaltheron?” Longinus asked at my back. He didn’t sound any better than he looked.

  I held up a finger for silence, needing to think. It felt as though I were taking a test or trying to unhook the clasps on a bra for the first time; I just couldn’t do it with all the posturing and threats jostling around me. Then it hit me. My legs nearly buckled as realization snatched my breath away.

  “Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!”

  Jesus glared, clearly offended I’d used his name in vain, and then the anger slipped from his expression, his eyes going wide with surprise. He grunted once, a kind of low rumble that never quite left his throat. A trickle of blood ran serpentine down his chin. He dropped, crumpling limp to the ground without a word, his eyes closing.

  In his place stood the alien we’d been searching for: Gorath. He smiled.

  Twenty-One

  Gorath rose up to his full height of damn near seven feet, forcing me to look up to take all of him in. His Cousin Itt hairdo looked even wilder than it had the last time I’d seen him, the jet black strands splaying out behind him and hanging all the way to the backs of his knees. The yellow-orange globes of his eyes flickered with satisfaction in his mottled face.

  Movement drew my eyes past him. Out of the shadows and alleyways at his back came more of the Felurians, their weapons clasped with intent. There was no way to tell the aliens apart from the ones who’d claimed to be Eidolon, but the truth was out there now, so it didn’t matter. No matter what they were pretending to be, there were more than enough of them to kill us. They shuffled to a stop behind their leader.

  Gorath held a golden dagger out toward us, waving it with arrogant slowness, the blade wet with the savior’s life. It shimmered, nearly blinding me with its brilliance, and I felt the rush of energy pouring out of Christ into the weapon in the alien’s hand. His grin widened into a toothy smile, every crease of his face illuminated by the flux of magic filling the blade.

  The opening salvo of Carnivore’s “God is Dead” erupted in my head and it was as if a window had opened in my skull and let the sense shine in. Everything fell into place. Longinus sputtered at my back. He’d gotten it, too, but it was too late…for both of us.

  I wanted to shout out, “I told you so,” but even though I’d known damn well we were being set up since early on, even I hadn’t realized who the real target was…or more correctly, who all of the targets were. Jesus lay slumped and silent on the ground, his magical essence being siphoned into the dagger. His cheeks were sunken under the pallor that stole the color from his flesh, and he lay there without moving.

  “We meet again, demon.” Gorath chuckled. “I will admit. I was disappointed to learn you’d survived our last encounter, though I should have had more faith in your perseverance. A little bird had whispered of your resilience, so I was not too surprised to see you show up here, on Feluris.” He shook the blood from the dagger, crimson drops spattering the body of Christ lying at his feet. “It’s a shame I’ll have to put you down before you see me revenged against Lucifer, but so be it. You’ll be pleased to watch me destroy this creature, I’m certain.” He gestured toward Longinus, who stood behind me without advancing.

  That alone told me all I needed to know. He was running on empty, and we were fucked in ways I’d never dared imagine, if you can believe that.

  There was no doubt Gorath had been shadowing us somehow, waiting for the right moment to jump in while Longinus was directed after Jesus’ Eidolon boys. I’d noticed the raised skin and scabbing of fresh tattoos on the aliens early on, back when we were first attacked at Rala’s place, but I didn’t think anything about it then. Gor
ath had only been operating on a planet for a short while, so fresh ink seemed appropriate given the time frame. But if he were the one to initiate the tattooing process, why were some of the Eidolon marks new while some were much older? The only explanation that made sense came to me while Longinus and Jesus played pat-a-cake. Too bad I hadn’t realized it before Gorath shivved Christ. The two had been played, ancient animosity guided to set them snapping at each other’s throats. It had worked perfectly.

  A meaty hand plopped on my shoulder made me jump. “We’ve little chance, but I need you to trust me,” Longinus whispered, his breath warm on my ear.

  I gave a barely perceptible nod. What choice did I have?

  Gorath eased forward, waving the dagger before him, taunting us as he advanced. While his power was weak, the flutter of a thousand butterfly wings against my senses, Longinus might as well have been an abacus. You could still do math on his ass, but we were fixing to have to do calculus.

  “Open your defenses and let me in,” Longinus said. “I need your magic.”

  And while all I heard was, “Bend over and grab your ankles, sweetheart,” I meekly did as he asked without bothering to ask for a reach around. My power was a pittance to what Gorath wielded, even if he hadn’t whipped his out yet.

  The dagger was bad enough. It would steal energy every time it struck, which is why I’d sensed Longinus on the piece I’d picked up earlier. He’d already been wounded, energy drained, and there was no likelihood that he’d recovered any seeing how he’d been fighting a constant battle since we showed up, not to mention magical wounds require direct attention to heal. If giving Longinus my energy helped him to recharge, I was all for it.

  “Do it.” I yanked out both guns and forced a chuckle, squeezing hard on the triggers as I did.

  The pistols kicked at the same time Longinus’ trick did. A loud gong went off and the world wavered before my eyes. My skin warmed and I felt a sudden suction drawing my power out from inside me, a vacuuming experiment gone horribly awry. I vaguely saw the first of my shots slam into Gorath’s chest, but he took them like a champ. He didn’t even stumble as he waved his minions forward. Their shouts boxed my ears in competition with the roaring whoosh of Longinus draining me dry of magic. I fell to my knees and was shoved backward by the ex-AC, out of the line of fire.

  The ground caught me about half a dozen yards back, but I barely noticed. Rolling into a crouch out of pure instinct, I checked real quick to see that I still had my guns—I did to my surprise—and looked up to see Longinus barreling through the lines to engage Gorath. There was a flicker of uncertainty in the alien’s eyes as they collided, but my brain just couldn’t process it as fear. The two went at each other much like Longinus and Jesus had, up close and disturbingly personal.

  That left me the fifty or so Felurians that had left their master to his battle and stormed toward my direction. Yay me!

  My head throbbed as if I’d been on a month-long bender, tribal rhythms thumping a savage beat on my skull. I could taste ashes in my throat, my mouth so dry my tongue stuck to my teeth. The aliens didn’t care. They just kept coming. I was just glad none of them had guns, although, as that thought spewed into my brain it was countered by another, more realistic one. No guns meant there was no quick and easy way out of this one. My stomach sank into my nut sack. Dying the old fashioned way sucks.

  I got to my feet, trembling, reminded of the old adage: Better to die on your feet than live on your knees. And then I thought, fuck that guy, but I was already up so, whatever. Several rounds still in my magazines, I fired them off as quickly as I could manage and went to reload before the horde hit me. My subconscious reached out for my magic right then, and I could have sworn I heard it whimper when it remembered it wasn’t there. With Longinus using me as a juice box, there wasn’t enough energy left to light a match, let alone ward off an army. The mags snapped home with the grave understanding that they would likely be the last of what stood between me and the aliens looking to mount my head on a spike.

  “Duck,” a voice shouted from somewhere above.

  …duck, goose, I finished in my head and dropped. A wash of wind and heat roared overhead. I was suddenly glad of my habit of shaving my head because my hair would have gone up like a torch if I hadn’t. As it was, I was certain I’d have a nice collection of blisters arrayed across my skull.

  The gout of flame hissed past and crashed into the alien line. Felurians screamed as tongues of fire sexed them up in the most uncomfortable of ways. A shadow clouded the sky and then whipped by to bring the light back, such as it was. Though, if it weren’t for the ragged-throated screams and the acrid scent of flesh burning, it would have been a cozy winter day. A gentle, fluttering warmth emanated from the fire and it cast a pretty glimmer of dancing light. If only I’d had some marshmallows.

  Leave it to the aliens to ruin a good time. Those who hadn’t been toasted scattered away from the flames, which still flashed virulent amongst their brethren. I popped off a few more shots, targeting those who were close enough to make the shots count, before pulling back a bit.

  I’d a pretty good idea who was providing the air cover, but I wanted to be sure. My eyes spotted Rala as she circled a nearby building and came about for another pass. Her appearance answered my question as to whether she could spit fire. Wyvern my ass.

  She’d split the alien ranks on her first go so she wouldn’t manage to get anywhere near the same number on her next pass. That didn’t stop her from trying. She swooped low over the scattering crowd, dodging the spears hurled her direction and let loose another gout of flames. Only a few fell this time, the aliens too spread out to provide a solid target for her. I capped a few more to add to the count and drifted in the general direction she was headed. If her earlier display was any reference, it wouldn’t be long before she sputtered and ran out of gas.

  I still didn’t know whether to trust the girl, as she’d help direct us after the Eidolon, but nothing she’d done made me think she was one of the bad guys. Seemed more like she was just as confused and misled about who was who as I was. Regardless of all that, she’d the opportunity to light me up and didn’t take it, so that was points in her favor. I’d have to trust our goals coincided enough that we could worry about our differences later. Now wasn’t a good time.

  The aliens had maneuvered their way around the burning terrain and smoking companions, and were headed my way once more. Longinus and Gorath were still going at it beyond the mass of aliens. It didn’t smell like victory from where I was standing. In close, Gorath was bleeding out the ex-AC with brutal precision. While Longinus seemed to be keeping him from delivering the killing blow, each slash whittled away at his borrowed vigor. His skin was pale, and what parts weren’t covered in blood were covered in sweat. The glare of his eyes was dimming, and I knew we were running out of time.

  Rala’s pained scream drew my eyes to her. As she veered through the sky, she sprouted a new appendage, a spear appearing in her side. Green ooze gushed and she was suddenly a girl again…and falling. Deep down, my brain rationalized Longinus was more important, that I needed to save him first, but the essence of me, who I am at the very core of my being, was a realist. I’d shot Gorath and he shrugged it off, and Longinus had absconded with the only other weapon I might have used against the alien: my magic. This wasn’t about winning any more. It was survival.

  I turned my back on Longinus and ran after Rala, putting my guns away to free my hands. There was no doubt in my mind I was only delaying the inevitable, but the part of me that still loved and respected my mother, demanded I do what I could to save the girl. If me and Longinus were gonna die here and now, Karra’s fate left indeterminate in the balance, my unborn child’s life spent before it had even begun, I needed to go out on a positive note. I needed to know something had come of all this.

  Rala fell from the sky, and I ran beneath her, holding my arms out to catch her and keep from accidentally impaling her deeper with the spear. She thumpe
d into my grasp and groaned, her head snapping back at an awkward angle. She might well have been a feather she was so light.

  “You should have gone after the alien,” I muttered, more to myself than her, mad for not having suggested it earlier.

  “The Aliterean?” her voice was so weak the words tumbled from her lips.

  I shushed her. Her eyes fluttered as I surveyed the wound. It wasn’t horrible but it was bleeding freely around the shaft. Its sharp tang roiled my stomach as I pulled the spear free and pinned my palm against the wound. It wasn’t best of medical decisions, but to leave the weapon in her while I ran would be to kill her for certain. I was banking on hope.

  Apparently, the check bounced.

  White light exploded inside my head, brilliance spilling through my eyes and blinding me. There was a disconnected thump, my knees hitting the ground, followed by another, and then there was pain. Clarity came on its heels.

  My eyes popped open as a spear was driven into my back, skewering my kidney. The point pushed through the front, and I watched as it tore loose of my flesh. Blood and pieces of meat and skin hung off the tip, dripping with a deep crimson. Rala lay curled on the ground before me. She didn’t react to the sudden wash of blood that rained down atop her.

  Another spear was driven into my shoulder, the blade grinding into the bone. The alien twisted the shaft and pulled me back, yanking me away from the girl. A dozen hands scrabbled over me, pulling at my holsters and guns. In the blink of an eye, they’d been taken away and dumped without ceremony on the ground, just out of my reach.

  Several more blows landed as I was dragged further from Rala by the spears embedded in me. I heard the sharp crack of bone snapping, vertigo setting in as my left eye rolled loose in the broken socket. A warm wetness spilled across my lips and chin, and I tasted the coppery tang of my blood. My thoughts reeled, some deep, inner sense grateful I couldn’t feel all of what was being done to me, the agony overwhelming my nerves.