by Kyoko M
“Excellent. It’s very important to be comfortable with your victim. There are several ways to go about this with that particular knife. If you so desire, you can go for the chest, but I would recommend the throat as you have now. It allows for a slower death, something you can savor on those cold nights when you are alone. You’ll want to start at the bottom of my jaw and draw a line across to the other side. Press hard and keep the blade straight. I believe you’ll find the result more than satisfying.”
I wouldn’t be the only one, not from what I felt against my lower stomach. “The eyes are the most fascinating part to watch. Stare long enough and you can see the soul draining out until there is nothing left but darkness. It is the closest to paradise that one can reach, save lovemaking. I believe I’ve told you enough. You may start whenever you’re ready, my pet.”
I gripped the knife in my hand, the handle smooth and cool, and then leaned down enough to press my lips against his ear.
“I’m not here to kill you.”
He stiffened underneath me, surprised. “What?”
I didn’t answer.
Instead, I sliced a neat line about three inches across into the side of his neck. Blood welled out immediately, dripping down towards his open collar. I prayed for God to forgive me, and then I lowered my mouth to the wound.
Belial jerked against me as my lips closed over his throat. “You have no idea what you are doing. Stop this, Jordan. Now.”
I could hear him still talking, but the second his hot blood flooded over my tongue, it didn’t matter. I’d been hit in the face before, so I knew the taste of blood—salty and metallic. Belial’s blood was different. It had a smoky flavor underneath the copperish taste, the way a fine wine had an undercurrent of sweetness. It coated my throat and slipped down into my stomach, and then something followed. My muscles tightened and flexed. Adrenaline streaked through my veins. I knew what it was.
Power.
At some point, I’d closed my eyes, so I opened them and then it all clicked into place. I could see. I could see everything.
Everything.
I stared at the wall behind us and knew exactly how many cracks there were in the graying concrete. I could hear the tiny patters of every rat underneath the floorboards. I knew how many people were outside of the building, down the street, down the block, on the sidewalks, in their cars. Every heartbeat sent out a signal that echoed back to my brain like sonar. More than that, I knew how many of the bodies walking around were demons.
And that was my key to finding Moloch.
I tossed the blade aside and leaned away from the breathless demon, my posture firm with resolve. I licked my lips clean and swallowed the last of his blood. I stripped off the sling on my right arm. I had regained the use of my fingers and elbow. I could fight again. Good.
However, something else caught my eye. At first, I thought it was simply a trick of the light or my eyes adjusting to the super-powered blood rushing through me, but it wasn’t. Demon blood carried things within it. Memories. Knowledge. Ultimate sight. And what I saw before me was something that froze me in place for a second.
Belial didn’t look like himself any more. A wispy grey shadow overcast his body, almost like a phantom of some sort. He was still handsome, but his eyes had no pupils, no sclera, no irises. Instead, they were icy blue all the way through with tears of blood dripping down his graceful cheekbones. A droplet hit his chest, drawing my attention there. He had a gaping hole that stretched from his sternum to his bellybutton. It didn’t expose his internal organs. It was just a black void. He was hollow. Then I realized what I was seeing.
His soul.
Belial stared up at me in disbelief, his empty eyes wide. “What have you done?”
I met his gaze, unafraid. “Leveled the playing field.”
Then I walked out of the room to find myself a demon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JORDAN
The first demon I found was in a bar.
A gorgeous leggy brunette with brown eyes, cut off jean shorts, and a scarlet halter top sat on a stool and tossed back shots of whiskey like they were nothing, because they weren’t to her. Demons’ metabolisms were insane. They could metabolize practically anything within an hour.
I stayed at the opposite end of the bar watching her for several minutes, calculating everything I could about her—height, weight, rank within the demonic scale, and the current state of her soul. Hers was nothing like Belial’s. It was a bald gelatinous mass, like a grey version of Slimer from Ghostbusters. Amber liquid dribbled down the rolls of fat. Her gaping maw constantly opened and closed in an attempt to swallow the alcohol that poured out of her skin like sweat. Piggy little eyes stuck out like cockroaches in a ball of dough. A demon of overindulgence.
Then, the image vanished like it had never been there. It seemed to come and go based on how hard I was concentrating.
She stood up and turned around, flashing her toned stomach to half the bar, grinning. “This round’s on me, boys!”
The entire bar roared with masculine praise. She threw back another shot and faced the bartender, rapping her knuckles on the wood for another one. He winked and poured it for her. I’d learned enough. Time to move in.
I walked over and stood next to her. “Excuse me.”
“Yuh?” she answered, tossing a bored glance over at me.
“I was hoping you’d be able to help me. I’m looking for a particular establishment that you might have knowledge of.”
“Oh? And what ‘particular establishment’ is that?” she said, swirling her pointer finger in the booze and sucking it off.
“Demons tend to have a place to gather in large cities. It’s where they exchange information. However, I’m not familiar with this area. Would you like to tell me where that might be?”
The glazed look in her eyes slid back immediately. She straightened up on the bar stool, sizing me up for real this time. “A Seer, huh? Let me guess. You’re sore about Gabriel biting the big one and you want revenge?”
“Among other things,” I admitted.
“Sorry, babe. Why do you think I’m celebrating? Gabriel was a pretentious asshole. Take my advice and skip town before you get yourself into trouble.”
I inhaled. “I’ll ask you one more time. Where is the demon nest?”
She glared. “You’re up past your bedtime, sweetheart.”
She poured the whiskey straight down my shirt, her lip curling. “Kick rocks.”
The cold alcohol chilled my skin from cleavage to navel. The pungent smell burned my nostrils. I just smiled at her.
“Okay. Enjoy your night.” I turned and walked away.
Twenty minutes later, the demon stumbled out the back door of the bar with a burly guy in a motorcycle jacket wrapped around her. They were laughing and flirting as they walked towards the parking lot—clearly about to enjoy themselves in the back of his vehicle.
“Ahem.”
The brunette turned. I smashed a whiskey bottle over her head and then lit her on fire.
She screamed with all the air in her lungs as the flames whooshed up her skin, sizzling like someone had tossed a slab of ribs on a grill. The guy stumbled back and cursed loudly, his jaw dropping. I watched as she clawed off the remains of the burning booze and hit the ground, rolling until the flames were smothered. The stench of burnt skin and hair filled the air as she stood up.
“You little bitch!” she roared, spreading her arms. “I’m gonna tear out your rib cage and wear it as a corset.”
She lunged for me, inhumanly fast, inhumanly strong, and severely pissed off. I caught both of her wrists inches away from my face and stretched out her arms. She froze, confused. I then jerked in a downward motion and broke both of her arms at the elbows.
She howled with pain and collapsed at my feet, her cries bouncing off alley walls. Motorcycle Jacket didn’t even spare me another glance—he just took off down the alley as fast as his legs would carry him.
I r
eturned my attention to the demon squirming around on the ground, gasping for air. The jagged ends of her elbow protruded from the bend of each arm, glistening in the dim light of the alley. Blood gurgled out each time she writhed. “Now I’m going to ask you again. Where is the demon nest?”
“What are you?” she panted out, her layered hair splayed all over her forehead, eyes wide as plates. “You aren’t a Seer. You can’t be. What the hell are you?”
I knelt in front of her. She flinched away from me. “Motivated. The question, if you please?”
“T-There’s an old gym on the lower east side. Used to belong to a high school. Most of us meet over there to give each other updates and compare notes. If there isn’t a meeting, some of them hang out there to shoot pool.”
“Thank you for your cooperation.” I fished through her pockets until I found her cell phone. Demons weren’t always loyal, but they did like to get even. If I left her with it, she’d call ahead and warn them I was coming.
I stomped the cell phone into several pieces and then sent another withering glare over the demon. Would she want revenge or had my display scared her silly?
“Do you know my name, demon?”
She shook her head. Her pulse in her neck jumped beneath the skin. I counted the beats of her heart per minute. She wasn’t lying. Good.
“I’m going to let you live for that exact reason. Don’t come looking for me. If you do, I’m going to finish what we started tonight. Are we clear?”
She nodded about thirteen times. I turned and walked away, hailing a cab to head for the lower east side.
I climbed in the back and instructed him where to go. Twenty minutes later, he eased the cab onto the curb and parked. The cabbie was late forties with a bushy mustache and a toothpick clutched in his teeth. He eyed me as I counted out the bills in my wallet to pay him.
“There’s something wrong with your eyes, girlie,” he said in a heavy Pakistani accent. “Whatever you think you’ve got to do…maybe you don’t.”
I slapped the money into his open hand. “The world isn’t that simple. Thanks for the ride.”
I stepped out of the car. He drove off without another word. The wind picked up as I stood on the sidewalk, eying the hollowed out shell that festered with demons inside. The roof was still in one piece, but the outside was molded over and falling apart. Hunks of pale yellow sheet metal hung off like oversized dandruff. Dead brown grass surrounded the grounds on all sides. The high school itself had been demolished already and this place clearly didn’t have much longer before it followed.
I closed my eyes and stretched out one hand, the palm flat. The building breathed back at me how many demons were within it. Ten. Pretty bad odds.
For them.
The double doors weren’t locked. They screamed at the hinges when I pushed them open. The gym was a fair size with ancient dented bleachers on both sides, half-demolished basketball goals still hanging from the ceiling, and newly installed lights that illuminated the six pool tables on the main floor. Soft music oozed over the dimly lit space—the dulcet tones of Sade. There were eight men and two women total. They all turned their heads as soon as my sneakers passed through the dingy entrance.
I walked past them to the middle of the floor until I was in the spotlight and smiled brightly.
“Hi. My name is Jordan. I’m here to kick bubblegum and chew ass. And I’m all out of ass.”
Silence. Then, laughter. I figured as much. I’d botched the They Live quote on purpose, after all.
“Don’t tell me,” a skinny blond male demon said, waltzing up to me with one hand in his tight jeans and the other clutching a pool cue. “You’re the Seer everyone won’t shut up about. The one married to the Commander? You get lost on the way to the morgue, baby?”
“Not at all,” I said. “I need one of you geniuses to tell me where Moloch is. Any volunteers?”
The demon rubbed his square chin and drummed his long fingers on the pool stick. “I dunno. Whatcha gonna give me if I comply? I hear you swing both ways. Angels, demons, doesn’t matter to you. Show me what’s underneath that t-shirt and maybe I’ll tell you what I know.”
“That’s a pretty reasonable price,” I said, tracing a fingertip up and down the length of the pool cue.
The sleazy grin on his lips stretched. “That right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Then I snatched it out of his hands, snapped it over my knee, and stabbed him through the throat with one broken end. Blood bubbled out around the wood and poured down the front of his white t-shirt. He twitched a couple times, his eyes bulging, hands clawing uselessly in mid-air. I yanked the improvised weapon out and he slumped to the floor, choking on his own blood.
“But I’d rather not pay it,” I finished, calmly raising my gaze to the remaining nine threats in the room. “So I’ll ask again. Where is Moloch?”
A burly dark-haired demon who made Peyton Manning look like a member of the Lollipop Guild walked away from his table, spitting out the cigar stub in the corner of his mouth. “You got some nerve rollin’ in here giving orders. Last time I counted, there’s just one of you. I don’t sense anyone else outside backin’ you up, little girl. You got a death wish? What’s the matter? Depressed now that your guardian angel pal is dead? Wanna take it out on us?”
“I’m here for information, not bullying. But since you brought it up, yeah. I am a little pissed. I’d like to vent. So if you’re not going to tell me where Moloch is, at least make it worth my while.”
He shook his head and cracked his knuckles. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He snapped his massive fingers. The other demons stepped from around their tables and formed a circle around me. I tossed the pool cue ends aside and withdrew two angel feathers from my back pocket. Showtime.
The demons didn’t go to the Stupid Henchmen Academy. They attacked simultaneously, hoping to overwhelm me with their numbers. Any other night and I would have been screwed.
But not tonight.
The three quickest demons of the bunch were the first upon me. I gathered my muscles beneath me and jumped straight up. Normally, I could jump about two feet off the ground. I made it seven feet this time. All three of them crashed into each other, their heads knocking into one another like a cluster of coconuts. On my way down, I brought my heel down hard and kicked the back of one male demon’s head. He catapulted forward, taking out the other two who were already stunned from the accidental collision. Six left.
I came down with both feet planted on his spine. He screamed in agony. I focused on the pair of female demons, who had changed course after I landed. I leapt backwards several feet to give myself more space so they couldn’t corner me.
I blocked a sloppy right cross from the first woman and stabbed the crooks of her arms. The feather burned right through to the other side, immobilizing both limbs. She roared at me and threw herself forward, hoping to tackle me, but I kicked her in the stomach as hard as I could. She fell to her knees and spat up something bloody. Five left.
The other woman grabbed a fistful of my hair, dragging me towards her. I didn’t have a lot of rules. It was one thing to kick my ass. It was an entirely different thing to touch my goddamn hair.
I kicked her square in the kneecap as hard as I could. The sheer force of it smashed the bone and bent her entire left leg inward like a cat’s hindquarters. She howled in pain, but didn’t let go, so I shoved the tip of the feather into her stomach. I caught her arm and twisted around, spotting another two demons closing in. I heaved her across my body in a shoulder throw and she slammed into one of them, knocking both of them clear across the gym floor. Three demons left on my tail.
I dove beneath the pool table behind me, braced on all fours, and pushed upward with every last ounce of my borrowed strength. The front half lifted off the floor as two of them reached for my legs to pull me out from underneath. I grunted and used my shoulders to tip it over. They were too close to dodge out of the way. The table flat
tened both of them, cracking bones in its wake. One left.
Stopping to use the table cost me. Someone muscular grabbed me in a half-nelson from behind, kicking my ankles farther apart so I couldn’t stand up straight. The big guy who had spoken after I stabbed Blondie had gotten back up.
Another demon who had recovered closed in without hesitation, punching me in the solar plexus so hard that red dots exploded all over my vision. One of the feathers slipped from my grasp, but I held tight to the other one through the roar of pain smashing through my upper body.
When my eyes cleared, I could see him—sandy hair, beard, a blue-and-white trucker hat, red flannel shirt, and holey jeans. He grabbed my chin in his hand and chuckled as he smushed my face between his fingers. “Where’s all that smack talk now, little girl? Gonna chew my ass now? Huh?”
He hit me again, right above my bellybutton. Pain blossomed up my torso. I broke into a coughing fit. He laughed and leaned forward, holding a hand to his ear mockingly.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Poor choice of words,” I whispered, and then I bit clean through his ear.
Trucker Hat screamed and stumbled backward, clutching the bloody stump I’d left behind. He tried to recover, rushing forward towards me. I spat the severed body part and mouthful of blood right into his eyes. He jerked away, swiping at his face and tripping over the legs of one of the floored demons. It gave me a few seconds to regroup.
I bent forward at the waist as low as I could go and shoved my hips back hard, straightening my arms enough to slip out of the chokehold. The big guy groped for me, but I hit the floor on my belly and slid backwards through his spread legs. I stabbed him in the right thigh and then in the crotch with the feather. He tumbled forward, clutching both injuries.
Trucker Hat got back on his feet and whipped out a switchblade. “That’s it. Recess is out, bitch. Welcome to detention.”