Devil's Return

by Percival Constantine

  “You gotta be shitting me…” I muttered.

  Ramsey continued with his recitation, not stopping for a second. “‘He had a name written that no one knew except Himself. He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God.’”

  “Robe dipped in blood, huh? Maybe it’s just me, but that doesn’t sound too comfortable.”

  “‘And the armies in Heaven, clothed in fine linen, white and clean, followed Him on white horses.’”

  “Why would angels need horses when they can fly?” I asked.

  “‘Now out of His mouth goes a sharp sword, that with it He should strike the nations.’”

  “I saw a guy at the circus do that sword thing once. Didn’t impress me then, either.”

  “‘And He Himself will rule them with a rod of iron. He Himself treads the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty God. And He has on His robe and on His thigh a name written: King of Kings and Lord of Lords.’” Ramsey paused after finishing the reading, then added by way of a reference, “Revelation 19:11-16.”

  “You are aware that John had those visions while he was exiled on the island of Patmos, right?”

  “What’s your point?” asked Ramsey.

  “Only that some…interesting mushrooms grew out there.” I chuckled. “I mean, c’mon. Seven-headed dragons, the Four Horsemen, Babylonian whores, Christ vomiting up swords while his eyes burn red, and on and on. It’s all the ranting of a dude who was high as balls on ’shrooms.”

  Ramsey didn’t seem to like that joke, because his eyes were burning bright blue as his lips curled in anger. He looked like he was ready to tear my head off. But instead, he turned away from me and went down the steps. Towards the pew.

  Before I could say anything, he grabbed Shelly by her neck and lifted her off the pew. Dakota screamed in protest and struggled against her chains, she couldn’t do more than that. Shelly squirmed in his grip, trying to get free. I could tell Ramsey was squeezing her neck, cutting off her air flow. Her face was starting to turn pale.

  “No!” I shouted, slamming my hands against the invisible barrier. “Put her down, you bastard!”

  “Is this what you want, Luther?” he asked as he glared at me. “For me to choke the life out of your slut?”

  “Father Ramsey, please.”

  The voice was calm. Ramsey and I both looked over at Morrison, who’d moved away from the other priests and closer to Ramsey. He held his hands out in a gesture intended to be calming.

  “Are you questioning me, Brother Morrison?” asked Ramsey.

  “No, Father,” said Morrison, shaking his head. “It’s just that we were told to keep both women alive. The cambion, he’s trying to bait you into committing a cardinal sin.”

  Ramsey paused for a moment, staring at Morrison. Then he looked back at me and slowly nodded. “You’re right. He’d love nothing more than for me to kill this bitch and damn my soul to Hell.”

  He dropped Shelly back on the pew. She coughed a few times, but otherwise she seemed okay. Wasn’t sure if Morrison did that because he believed what he was saying or because he was starting to realize he’d gotten himself in over his head. Didn’t much care, either. He betrayed Dakota and Shelly and that meant I would see him pay. Right now, I had to keep Ramsey’s attention away from the girls and focused on me. The only thing I could do was run out the clock until I came up with a better solution. Hopefully that resurrection would happen soon, or Gabriel and Raziel would burst down the doors ready for a fight.

  “So Pyriel told you little Malcolm was the Second Coming, huh?” I asked.

  “Of course. Born of a virgin mother, protected by the angels, come at a time when the world is on the brink,” said Ramsey. “Just as the Bible teaches.”

  I scoffed. “Virgin birth? Is that what he told you?”

  Ramsey cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”

  “Malcolm isn’t the product of immaculate conception,” I said. “He’s a nephilim. And Pyriel’s his father.”

  Ramsey looked down, avoiding my eyes. But I wasn’t done with him.

  “You stupid son of a bitch,” I said. “Did you really believe Pyriel when he told you this kid was Jesus 2: Electric Boogaloo?”

  “Shut up…”

  “I’ve seen guys like you before. Pyriel imbues you with some of his soulfire and convinces you to do his dirty work for him. You know what happens to those guys? They die. That power in you, your body can’t contain it forever. Sooner or later, it will turn your insides to jelly.”

  “Enough!”

  As Ramsey screamed, he held out his hand. Soulfire burst from his palm and shot into the circle. It went right through me, and I’ll be damned if it didn’t hurt like a bitch. A searing, burning pain that was somehow simultaneously hot and cold at the same time.

  “I’ve had enough of your blasphemy,” said Ramsey. “Pyriel gave me the means to see to it that you soul is banished forever. Locked away in the pit where you can no longer infect this world with your evil.”

  “Leave him alone, you bastard!” shouted Dakota from the pew. “Can’t you see he’s already dead? He can’t do anything to hurt you, he’s just a ghost!”

  “Obviously he still has power over you, girl,” said Ramsey, glancing over his shoulder at her. “If I don’t stop him now, saving your soul will be impossible.”

  Ramsey didn’t let up on the soulfire. It poured into the circle, making it difficult for me to see anything. I was starting to feel it burn away at my own form, felt like I was starting to lose my connection to this realm. Like I was holding onto the edge of a cliff and my grip was slipping.

  “Father, wait,” said Morrison. “I don’t mean to intrude, but Cross has been a problem for the angels for some time now. It might be a good idea to consult with Pyriel first. He may wish to kill Cross himself.”

  Ramsey closed his fist and the soulfire ceased. I was on the ground and I looked up, watching as he turned to face Morrison. He took one more look at me and then scoffed.

  “I suppose you’re right. Wouldn’t do much good for the master to be upset with us, now would it?” Ramsey nodded to the two priests. “Check on the child. Brother Morrison, keep an eye on them. Do not listen to a word they say.”

  Ramsey and the other priests left the room. Now it was just the girls with Morrison and myself. I groaned as I got to my feet and stared at Morrison with anger.

  “So you decided to fuck us all,” I said. “What did Pyriel offer you in return?”

  “You rule over your own section of Hell. You made a deal with Satan himself. I’ve watched you kill. And yet you have the gall to judge me?”

  My face was stern and it was all I could do to stop myself from exploding with anger as I simply said, “Yes.”

  “This isn’t the way I wanted things to go, believe me,” said Morrison. “But we have the chance to do something great here. Dakota’s child will change the world.”

  “Only an idiot would believe that nutcase,” I said. “Pyriel hates humanity. And that sociopath in the clerical collar is a few pews short of a church. You really let him believe that Malcolm was the Second Coming?”

  “He could be. Maybe the details aren’t accurate, but the effect is the same.”

  “Don’t be an idiot, Morrison,” said Shelly. “It’s not too late to do something to stop this.”

  “She’s right,” said Dakota. “You’ve helped us before. You’ve seen what Ramsey’s like.”

  Morrison shook his head. “You don’t understand…”

  “I saw the look on your face when he attacked Shelly,” I said. “I know you’re not comfortable with all of this. So how about you do the right thing here? Break this circle so I can get out and show him a thing or two.”

  “And then what?” asked Morrison. “Go on the run with Dakota again? Make another deal with the devil? What exactly is the endgame?”

  “I found Raziel.”

  Morrison paused, his mouth hanging open. I looked from him at Dakota a
nd Shelly to see similar expressions of surprise on their faces.

  “Is he…alive?” asked Dakota.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Or at least, I’m pretty sure.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” asked Morrison. “You either found him or you didn’t.”

  “Gabriel, the archangel. He and I found out Pyriel was behind this, so we took one of his flunkies captive and found out that they trapped Raziel in human form. Gabe went to look for him. I was waiting for him to get back when Ramsey pulled me here.”

  “You see, Charles?” asked Dakota. “Raziel’s coming back. And we have an archangel on our side. Don’t you realize that means Pyriel isn’t what he says he is?”

  “I…” Morrison’s voice trailed off. He looked away from us, obviously struggling over what his decision should be. Not every day the ghost of a Hell Lord asks you to betray an angel and the organization you’d devoted your whole life to.

  “You know this isn’t right,” I said. “You know if Pyriel has a hand in raising that kid, he’ll only grow up to destroy the whole planet. And more than that, you know Pyriel won’t stop at just one. He wants an army, wants things to go back to the way they were. Before humanity, before Hell. And he’ll stop at nothing to do just that.”

  Morrison sighed. He looked at Dakota and Shelly. Then he shook his head and walked up the steps to the dais. “If I do this, I need you to promise me something.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “What I’ve done here…I’m not so sure it hasn’t damned my soul,” said Morrison. “Would you…talk to the angels for me?”

  “Even if they say no, you’ll be protected in my realm,” I said. “I give you my word.”

  “Your realm? Hell?”

  “Think you’d have learned by now that Heaven and Hell are far more complex than the Bible would have you believing.”

  Morrison took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Okay, I’ll help.”

  32

  Once again, Tessa found herself staring down the barrel of Cain’s gun. She looked back at Alistair and saw him still kneeling in the center of the sigil, his hands resting on his thighs, blood seeping from the cuts on his palms. His head faced towards the sky and his eyes were open, but completely blank and cloudy.

  He was in a trance, possibly even meeting with Death at this very moment. The dark clouds swirled overhead and thunder deafened the night. If Odysseus and Cain disrupted the ritual now, it would trap Alistair somewhere between worlds, possibly even kill him. And Luther would be lost to them.

  Tessa knew she couldn’t let that happen. She raised the shotgun and pointed it at Cain. Odysseus raised an eyebrow at her action and puffed on his cigar before he released a chuckle.

  “That’s cute, honey,” he said. “But you know just as well as I do that your little boom-stick won’t hurt my boy.”

  “Maybe not,” said Tessa, then she moved the gun slightly to the side, lining up the barrels with Odysseus’ head. “But you’re a different story.”

  Odysseus grinned. “Spunky. I like it.” The grin faded and he continued to speak. “Shouldn’t have taken up arms against me, Tess. See, I really liked you. Would’ve given you the help you need to restore your magic. Now Cain here is gonna have to blow that pretty little head off your shoulders.”

  Cain thumbed back the hammer on his revolver, the sound drawing Tessa’s attention back to him. She might be able to kill Odysseus, but then Cain would still kill her and then Alistair. There was only one way out of this, and it was a prospect she wasn’t very excited for.

  “Cain, let’s talk,” she said.

  “Oh yeah, this’ll be good.” Odysseus put the cigar in his mouth and folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the rooftop entrance. “Go on, I always enjoy watching people beg for their lives.”

  “He’s right, I helped Alistair steal the Book of Metatron,” said Tessa. “But I’ve got a good reason for it. Alistair can use it to resurrect Luther.”

  “You’re not helping your case,” said Cain, taking a step closer.

  Tessa slid her foot back in response to his movement, but still maintained her position. “I know you’re not exactly what you’d call a fan, but think about the bigger picture. If Alistair can get Death to resurrect someone, he can also get him to kill someone.”

  “Black already made me that same deal, or did you forget?”

  “Did he?” asked Tessa. “I was there. He promised to kill you after you did some work for him. Any chance he specified a time limit?”

  Cain glanced at Odysseus from the corner of his eye. “And you expect me to trust you instead?”

  “Odysseus wants an immortal, un-killable hitman. Alistair just wants his son back. Which one would you feel more comfortable trusting?”

  “What about you?” asked Cain. “What do you want?”

  “I didn’t want to get mixed up in all this, not again. Just like you, I wanted to get out,” said Tessa. “But I’m starting to realize that maybe there isn’t any out. Like it or not, we’ve all been thrown into the depths of this ocean of crazy. Maybe the only choice is to start swimming with the current instead of against it.”

  Odysseus chuckled. “Very pretty words, darling. Particularly like the use of metaphor. But I think it’s time we moved on to more important things. So Cain, shoot the girl and then Carraway.”

  Cain stared at Tessa, his finger rubbing the trigger but not squeezing it. Tessa held the shotgun up, ready to fire if need be. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. If nothing else, she just needed to stall until Alistair could finish up the spell.

  Cain allowed his arm to drop to his side. Tessa breathed a sigh of relief. But Odysseus exploded with anger.

  “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed. “I gave you a goddamn order, motherfucker!”

  “I heard you,” said Cain. “But I’m not taking any orders from you. Not anymore.”

  Odysseus snarled and shook his head. “You dumb sack of shit. I’m the only reason you’re not still trapped in ghostworld.”

  “Actually, she’s the reason.” Cain holstered his revolver and wrapped his fingers around Odysseus’ throat. He lifted the sorcerer off the ground and held him at arm’s length. “You’re just the asshole trying to use us for your own purposes.”

  He threw Odysseus across the roof. Tessa couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. She looked at Cain and said, “Sorry, just always wanted to do that.”

  “Think that’s funny, do you?” Odysseus got to his feet, leaving his cigar and hat on the ground. He brushed himself off and stared at the two of them, his eyes starting to crackle with power. “Maybe it’s time you see exactly what a real sorcerer is capable of!”

  Energy crackled around Odysseus fingertips. He extended his arms and that energy exploded outward, streaking towards Cain and Tessa. Before it reached them, Tessa held out her own hand, and something came over her.

  Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The immediacy of the threat was gone. It all appeared so insignificant to her in that moment. She could see not only the people on the roof, but also the spirits all around, flowing towards the sigil. And she looked down at herself, seeing a spectrum of colors flowing through her body.

  Time was restored to normal and Odysseus’ attack slammed against an invisible barrier. Cain looked at Tessa and saw her standing there with her arm outstretched and her eyes glowing.

  “Tessa…” he whispered.

  Tessa looked at her outstretched hand and saw the energy flowing around it. She looked at her other hand, the one still holding the shotgun, but also glowing, and it brought a smile to her face. Tessa raised the gun and fired.

  The shells were now charged with magical energy. She didn’t know how she was doing it, but she had control over her magic once again. But it was greater than that—she felt even stronger than ever before.

  Odysseus tried to deflect the shells with magical barriers of his own. But every time one of Tessa’s shells struck it, t
he shield fizzled and he had to create a new one. Tessa moved closer to him, continuing to fire, and Odysseus struggled to maintain his barriers.

  Before long, he was at the edge of the roof and she was standing just a few feet away from him, the gun aimed right at his head. Odysseus looked over the edge of the roof and then back at her. He let out a nervous chuckle.

  “Listen. Tessa…sweetheart…all that talk about ‘real sorcerers’…you know I was just playin’, right?”

  Tessa gave him an insincere smile. “Is that so?”

  “I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement…”

  “Okay.” Tessa lowered her gun. “Here’s the arrangement. Englewood is your territory. You stay in it. Next time you try to move above your pay grade, I’ll be back. Understood?”

  Odysseus gave a fervent nod in agreement. Tessa jerked her head towards the rooftop entrance. “Then get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”

  She stepped to the side and allowed Odysseus to leave. Cain just watched him go and then looked back at her with skepticism in his eyes.

  “You really sure you trust him not to cause trouble down the line?”

  “No, but seems he’s scared of me now, so that should at least keep him quiet for a little bit.” Tessa looked back at Alistair. “Besides, we’ve got bigger concerns at the moment.”

  33

  Alistair felt a cool breeze across his face. He opened his eyes and found he was kneeling on a deserted beach. When he looked down at his hands, he saw no cuts at all. Alistair rose to his feet and walked towards the edge of the shoreline. He used his hand as a visor to block the sun from his eyes and stared out across the ocean.

  Nothing. No sign of any boats or land. Not a single bird in the sky. Alistair continued to scan the shoreline, looking from left to right. There was no end in sight, nor any mountains in the distance. He turned around to examine the land, but the sand just extended seemingly forever.

  He heard a noise in the distance. Alistair turned towards the sound. There was something moving out there, sand being kicked up on either side. It was a figure of some kind and it was coming towards him.