by Kyoko M
I pressed my back against the solid brick and then grabbed my phone, dialing Myra’s number.
“What the hell was that?” she spat as soon as she answered.
“An impatient demon,” I said, keeping my voice low. “He didn’t hit us in the apartment, so I don’t think he knows where we live. He’s in the same lot as the truck. I’m stuck behind the corridor. I’ll keep him busy while you approach from the rear.”
“Mm, now that’s my kind of party,” she purred. “Make sure to save a piece for me, babe.”
“Will do.”
I hung up and stashed the phone in my pocket. It wouldn’t take long for people to call the cops, especially since this was a college social hub. I could already hear distant shouts of alarm and confusion. I did not want civilian casualties, not when I could stop him. I needed to end this quickly.
“Hey!” I shouted over my shoulder. “You out there, you son of a bitch? Did they pay you upfront to kill me? If so, I hope they can get a refund because you really suck at it!”
As soon as the last word left my mouth, I sprinted towards the fenced-in dumpster across the lot. Seconds later, the spot where I’d been standing exploded, shooting flames and chunks of dirt everywhere. Bad news for the apartment owners, but now Mr. Trigger Happy would have to come around the corner to see me this time. Thick plumes of dust hid me from view, as did the new moon darkness.
Still, he’d be able to see my feet, so I pressed them against the fence and suspended myself in the air, holding the shotgun sideways in my lap. From this angle, I could only see the end of the dumpster and part of the parking lot. If Myra didn’t come through, I was ten different kinds of dead.
I heard the faint rasp of footsteps approaching. He was close. It wouldn’t take him long to find me. Time to make a move.
I held one hand out towards the green truck about fifteen feet straight-ahead, whispering, “Strike!”
An energy shard flew across the clearing and punctured a tire. The demon reacted without thought, blowing up the truck on instinct. He stalked over to the wreckage, inspecting the area to see if my mangled corpse was beside it. I angled the shotgun in his direction, praying my aim was accurate enough to wound him.
I fired, aiming high. It hit him in the back of his right shoulder. He cried out, lowering the launcher. I shimmied to my feet, but my shirt caught on the edge of the dumpster. I couldn’t get upright. Shit! I watched in horror as he whirled and took aim at me.
Just then, a long bloodcurdling howl cut through the night. A second before he could shoot, Ace the hellhound pounced on the demon. He slammed the hitman into the ground with his massive paws, pinning him against the pavement and snarling in his face.
Myra pulled up in her truck right next to them and honked the horn at me with a grin. “All aboard!”
I ripped my shirt free and raced over to the other side of the truck. I kicked the grenade launcher out of the demon’s reach and tossed it in the back. After I slung the shotgun around my back, I patted Ace on his side and he backed off enough to let me take over. I withdrew an angel feather from my back pocket and held it just under the demon’s bleeding neck, my voice low.
“Get in the back of the truck with me or you can die right here.”
Up close, he was mid-forties, dark haired, pale-skinned, and long-limbed. He wore all black and his shirt was bulky, meaning he had body armor on. He looked like a hitman, even if it was for the underworld. He glared at me, but I could tell he didn’t enjoy the thought of being burned alive.
I hauled him to his feet and dragged him with me into the bed of the truck. My gun cases were already inside. Myra had been smart enough to scoop them up before anyone could find them. Ace jumped in afterwards, staying close to the demon’s feet so he couldn’t escape. She hit the gas and peeled out of the parking lot before any of the spectators could get a good look at us.
We had a contingency plan for being discovered by a demon. After all, in our line of work, it was just an eventuality. Myra drove several miles out of town to a deserted farmhouse. It sat in the middle of a field of long dead corn stalks. Huge sections of the roof were missing. It stank of rust, animal waste, and mice carcasses. Perfect place for enhanced interrogation.
We sat him down in an ancient electric chair we’d found at an antique garage sale and strapped him in. Normally, old leather and iron wouldn’t hold a demon, but we had a way around that too.
I withdrew the small dagger I kept in the glove compartment of Myra’s truck and cut my forearm. It hurt like a bitch, but it would heal easy enough. I cupped my other hand below it to catch the blood and then began smearing it on the demon’s restraints.
“With blood, I bind you to this spot. Walk no more until the spell is broken.”
A bright red light shot outward from the blood, sealing the spell. It wouldn’t last forever, but it was enough to keep this son of a bitch busy for a while. He grimaced as the spell took hold of his body, rendering his limbs immobile.
Myra handed me some gauze and I pressed it to the wound until the bleeding stopped. Ace curled up by Myra’s feet, his crimson eyes fixed on the demon like a good watchdog. I’d have to get him a cow bone soon. He saved my life.
“What do you hope to accomplish here?” the demon asked in an unnervingly deep voice. “Do you expect me to squawk? If so, you are as stupid as you are ugly.”
Myra pressed a hand to her ample chest. “My, you cut to the quick. No respect these days. Why the hostility? We’re just getting to know each other, boss.”
She walked forward, arms behind her back, posture straight—an old habit of a soldier. “See, I think we can help each other. We’re trying to figure out why you guys are so hot for us Seers. Hotter than normal, too. Most of you like to use us for your little battles with the angels, but this time you seem to really want us dead. That leads me to believe there’s another Apocalypse brewing.”
“Even if there was, why would I tell you anything?” he sneered. “You have nothing to threaten me with but a traitorous hellhound and some holy trinkets.”
Myra leaned down to his height, her smirk now dangerous. “Oh, we’ve got more than that, bucko. Guess what? We’re just going to leave you here.”
Confusion stamped across his features. “What?”
“Yep, you heard right. We’re going to hunker down in the truck and sleep while you sit here stewing in your own juices for a few hours. Know why?”
He eyed her, staying silent. “We know you’ve probably got to report in after you make an attempt on us. Probably within an hour. After that time passes and you don’t call, your boss assumes you failed. After you don’t show up in hell, he’ll assume that you’ve been compromised and told us everything you know. Guess what happens then?”
“He’ll put your name on the hit list,” I finished for her. “Every demon under his payroll will have their eyes out for you. They’ll find you, torture you, kill you, and then continue torturing you in hell because they think you’re a traitor.”
“You are bluffing,” he said, though with noticeably less conviction.
“Are we, now? I take it you heard what happened to Matthias Gruber, right? That was us.”
He said nothing. A couple beads of sweat popped up on his forehead, which spoke volumes to what he was thinking.
Myra admired her French tips, continuing on in a bored tone. “Last chance. Tell us what you know and we’ll kill you. That way, you just go to hell and they figure you failed like the other guy. No skin off your back, so to speak.”
He swallowed, his gaze flicking between the two of us. I imagined the Final Jeopardy music because I could practically see the gears in his head turning. Demons were purely selfish creatures. The mythos had gotten that right. Often, they cared more about themselves than their cause to corrupt humanity. If one had to choose between himself and the cause, nine times out of ten, he chose himself. We were taking a risk, of course. He might call our bluff. Then he could just wait out the blood spell, break f
ree, and come after us again, which means we’d have to kill him without learning anything.
“Fine,” he said with a grimace. “Just get it over with.”
Myra and I shared a glance. She nodded to me. I stepped forward. “Why is there a price on all our heads?”
“Our orders are to gather the coins and bring them to one location. So far, you Seers have thwarted us at every turn. Our success rate will be better if you no longer interfere.”
“Why are they gathering the coins? Wouldn’t it be more useful to give them out to the most dangerous demons so they can fight the angels?”
“That was not included in my orders.”
I scowled. “I find that hard to believe.”
He glared. “Perhaps they suspected one of us might get interrogated and didn’t want to give away their plan.”
Damn. He had a point. “Who gave you the order?”
“An archdemon.”
“Which archdemon?”
“Again, this was not included in my orders. I’m an independent contractor. I kill, I get paid, and I continue to do so until I’ve had my fill. That is all.”
Myra stared him down for a few seconds and then addressed the hellhound. “Is he telling the truth?”
Ace stood up and walked over to the demon, who leaned away from the beast as it started to sniff him. The sight was almost funny. Even demons knew not to screw with them.
After a moment, the hound snorted and lay down again, confirming that the demon had told us all he knew. Myra spared the hitman a sweet smile, holding out her hand for my angel feather. I handed it to her, waving a silent goodbye to the demon.
“Nice chatting with you, sir. Have a safe trip.”
She stabbed him in the chest with the angel feather. He let out an agonized shriek, thrashing in the chair as it burned a hole through his sternum. Twenty seconds later, his head pitched forward. He was dead as a doornail. Good riddance.
She gave me the feather back and yawned. “Alright, let’s bury the bastard and get home before anyone gets too suspicious.”
I shook my head at her phrasing. “I’ll go get the shovels.”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Nothing like a fresh grave on a moonless night.”
“You are warped, Myra.”
“Amen, sister.”
The apartment complex was practically a zoo when we returned. Police surrounded the area and interrogated every single tenant, us included. We made up a story about being out to dinner. It wasn’t a complete lie—we went to get waffles after we buried the body. We’d also taken the truck through a car wash to get rid of the blood the demon left behind and then changed out of our clothes so it’d be harder for anyone to recognize us, then parked it at a friends’ house and took their car home. We were nothing if not thorough.
After about an hour of questioning, they let us back into the apartment. The popular theory among the tenants was that the guy whose car had gotten blown up—the first one, anyway—was the target. There were rampant rumors that he had ties to the Mafia. I tried my hardest not to laugh at the snatches of conversation I heard as we walked down the hallway to our room.
As always, people gawked when they saw Ace walking alongside us. We had convinced the landlord he was a mixed breed of wolf, Husky, and Irish Wolfhound. People still thought he looked like a monster, though, and I couldn’t blame them. At least normal people couldn’t see the red eyes—to them, they looked yellow. It also didn’t help that he hated everyone except Myra, myself included. He’d never bitten an innocent bystander, but he growled like nobody’s business.
Myra’s hand was on the doorknob when we both felt a presence inside. A powerful one. So much so that it was hard to tell if it was a demon or an angel. It just screamed ‘not human.’ There were too many people outside for us to draw our guns. We couldn’t just leave because the rest of our clothes and equipment were inside. We’d have to go in. Dammit.
“I’ll let the mutt in first,” she whispered to me. “I’ll take cover in the kitchen. Head for your room.”
“Got it.”
Ace reared up to full height, his shoulders bunching in preparation for an attack. Myra counted down from three and then opened the door.
The hellhound shoved his furry body through the doorway, spotting the intruder on our couch. We darted in after him, about to split up, when a female voice spoke.
“Oh, relax. I’m not here to fight.”
I flicked on the light overhead. It granted me the sight of a tall redheaded woman in a forest green button up shirt, black jeans, and knee high suede boots. She sat cross-legged on our black leather couch, sending a bored look at the three of us with her brown eyes. Her hair was long and spilled across her shoulders, curled at the edges. Her words had held a faint British accent in the background. I stretched my energy outward to confirm her identity. Not a demon. Which meant she could only be our bodyguard.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Myra said with no small amount of snark. “Where the hell were you an hour and a half ago?”
The angel shrugged. “You had the situation under control. There was no need for my interference.”
“Bullshit,” I said, kicking the door shut. “He had me cornered at one point. I could have died.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” the redhead said. “The Honey Badger had it handled. Well, her and that monstrosity.”
She pointed a manicured nail at the hound, who growled louder. Few people knew he was intelligent to the point of sentience. He really didn’t like being insulted. Strike two for our bodyguard.
“The Honey Badger?” Myra echoed, sounding somewhere between incredulous and indignant.
I offered her a sheepish look. “My fault. I started calling you that because, to be frank, you don’t give a shit. The nickname sorta stuck.”
She paused and then shrugged. “Eh. I kinda like it. Carry on, then.”
I stepped forward, running my fingers across Ace’s thick mane. He glanced at me and then the growls died down. He didn’t like me, but he did trust me somewhat.
“Why did you deem it necessary to show yourself if we’re not in danger?” I asked. “I thought Gabriel didn’t want us to know our bodyguard in case we blow your cover.”
She stood up then. “I kept an eye out when you went to the farmhouse, but it was pretty hard to hear the conversation while I was checking the perimeter. What did the demon say?”
“They want to bump us off and get the coins together in one location. The price on our heads is to make sure we stay out of the way of whatever big event is on the horizon.”
“Hmph. Makes sense, I suppose. If that’s the case, then pack up the last of your stuff and head for that safe house of yours tonight instead of in the morning. I have to report back to Gabriel.” She brushed past us, heading for the exit.
“Didn’t catch your name there, friend.”
“Didn’t give it,” she replied tartly without breaking stride.
I spoke up again as she got to the door. “Make sure he knows what a bang-up job you’re doing as our bodyguard, won’t you?”
Her shoulders tensed. Part of me knew not to pick a fight with an angel who could take me apart with her pinky finger, but I couldn’t help it. She’d almost let me die over a stupid grudge. She could kiss my ass for all I cared.
She turned, seeming to quell her anger at first. “Careful, Seer. I don’t take shit from anyone, least of all a cheating bitch like you.”
I started for her, but Myra grabbed my shoulder, holding me back. “I didn’t cheat on anyone. And what do you care? Did you even know Michael? Or are you just another stuck up soldier with a chip on her shoulder?”
She narrowed her mahogany eyes at me. “That’s something you humans wouldn’t understand. Angels value loyalty above all. You weren’t there when Uriel’s lover Zora was taken from him. I was. We were friends. He was crushed. He is still crushed. And now our Commander, our leader, is in the wind, probably because of your little f
ling with the archdemon. I have every right to want to watch you die and if Gabriel wasn’t Michael’s second-in-command, I’d kill you myself.”
I shook off Myra’s hand, standing close enough to smell the angel’s Chanel No. 5. “So what? It doesn’t matter that I’m busting my ass trying to find these coins for your side?”
“You can search all you want, Seer. You will not find forgiveness.”
That stung more than a little. “Wow. I’m pretty sure there’s something in the Bible about ‘forgive and forget,’ or do you just read the parts you like and skip the rest?”
She laughed, but not in humor. Anger clung to every sound. “The Bible? You want to preach to me about forgiveness? Kindness? Humility? Picture this, Seer. Thousands of swollen corpses floating in a sea of blood. A battlefield stained with the entrails of your brothers and sisters. That is what my eyes have seen through the centuries. My family murdered for the sake of yours. And instead of seeking revenge, our Father stands idly by and continues to instruct us to care for you whimpering, self-obsessed mongrels. There is not enough of the Son’s blood to cover your race’s indiscretions. I serve only for the sake of the angels, not yours. You and your kind can rot for all I care.”
I jutted out my chin like a cocky boxer. “Go ahead then. Kill me. I dare you.”
She stared me down for a handful of seconds. “No wonder the archdemon likes you so much. You reek of death and selfishness and rage. Don’t worry, though. You’ll get what’s coming to you soon enough, Seer.”
She walked out the door, slamming it closed. I shut my eyes for a moment, my hands clenching into fists. I’d been reckless. She didn’t need an excuse to hate me and I’d given her another one. Nice job, Amador.
“You sure know how to make friends,” Myra said with a sigh. “Come on, tough guy. Let’s get the hell out of dodge.”