Devil's Conflict

by Percival Constantine

  “Trust me, Luther. It’s far better than the alternative,” said Asmodeus. “With Raziel gone, it’s only a matter of time before the child’s father reclaims his prize. And if Raziel is gone, that means there’s only one person on Earth who might know the child’s whereabouts.”

  “I don’t know a damn thing,” I said.

  “Why is it I have trouble believing that to be true?” Asmodeus stood and leaned over the table. “You must know something.”

  “Yeah, I know one thing.” The heat had reached a fever pitch. I held up my hand, sparks beginning to form at my fingertips. “You never should’ve come back.”

  Hellfire surged from my palm. The other patrons in the restaurant screamed at the sight. They ran from their tables and went for the exit. Some of the staff came running with fire extinguishers, but when they turned them on the blaze, it did nothing to quell the flames.

  Asmodeus stood there, the flames surrounding his body. He held up his hand and closed it into a fist. The hellfire was sucked into his hand and his eyes burned right back at me.

  “Hellfire, very impressive,” he said. “It seems you’ve learned a few new tricks since last we met. Pity it won’t be enough to stop me from claiming that child.”

  Black, bat-like wings emerged from Asmodeus’ shoulder blades, wrapping themselves around his body and then he vanished in a tower of flames.

  “What the hell was that?” asked the manager, running over towards me.

  I turned and faced him, staring into his eyes. “That was nothing you have to worry about anymore.”

  The manager’s eyes glazed over and I walked away from the table, heading for the exit. I never thought I’d see Asmodeus again and I certainly never expected him to come after Dakota’s child. But it looked like despite my best efforts, I was going to get dragged into this nightmare once again.

  8

  Asmodeus walked down Rush Street, seeing the line of people extending nearly around the block. He proceeded to the front of the line and came to a stop at the door, looking up at the nightclub. The word LUST was lit up with red lights—he was home.

  He approached the door, but the bouncer who stood guard noticed him. The bouncer held his hand out in a gesture for Asmodeus to stop.

  “Is your name on the list?” he asked, looking down at his clipboard and ready to search for the name.

  “If it isn’t it should be. It’s certainly on the lease,” he said. “Asmodeus.”

  The bouncer looked up from the clipboard and eyed Asmodeus with disbelief. Then he chortled. “Yeah, whatever you say, man. If your name’s not on the list, you gotta go to the end of the line and wait like everybody else.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” said Asmodeus. “This is my club. And you will let me in.”

  “I dunno if you’re crazy or just a really bad liar,” said the bouncer, staring down at Asmodeus. “But Asmodeus is dead. This club is under new management. Now get to the back of the line or go somewhere else. I don’t care one way or the other, just as long as you get outta my face.”

  “‘Under new management,’” Asmodeus repeated and clicked his tongue. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

  He kicked the bouncer’s knee and it bent unnaturally backwards with the sound of a loud crack. The bouncer collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain. Asmodeus picked up the clipboard and looked down at it, then took the pen and scribbled down his name at the top of the list.

  Asmodeus knelt down beside the bouncer and pointed to the name he just wrote. “There, you see? My name’s right at the top.” Asmodeus slapped the bouncer’s face with the clipboard and left it lying beside him on the street.

  When he rose to his feet and looked back at the crowd, he saw several in line had already run off. Many others had their phones out, filming the scene. Asmodeus smiled and bowed to them.

  “Thank you, I hope you’ve enjoyed tonight’s entertainment.”

  He went to the front doors and pulled them both open, then entered the club. It was mostly dark, with flashing lights as the only source of illumination. Music with a strong bass pounded through the speakers and people were crowded together on the dance floor.

  Asmodeus took a deep breath. Sin was thick in the air—lust, envy, greed. He hadn’t experienced such euphoria since before Purgatory and he’d forgotten how much he missed it. The longer he fed off these emotions, the stronger he’d grow. Soon he’d be strong enough to go after Luther and find out where the girl was.

  But first, he needed information. Had to learn what he’d missed in his time away. Pyriel already told him how Luther stole his throne. So what did that mean for Lust? Luther was hardly the type of man to run a nightclub, but he’d need someone in charge here.

  Asmodeus took the stairs, ascending past each level of the club until he came to the top one. He walked across the floor and approached the room at the end. Two guards flanked the door, but when they laid eyes on Asmodeus, their jaws nearly hit the floor.

  “B-boss?” asked one of them, stepping closer. Asmodeus recognized him as Edgar. “Is that you?”

  Asmodeus nodded and approached them. “It is indeed. How are you?”

  “Doing okay, sir, but…what happened?” asked Simon, the second guard.

  Asmodeus smiled and patted his hands on each of their shoulders. “It’s a long story, boys. But I’m back now and we have some business to get down to.”

  “Boss, nothing would make us happier to work for you again,” began Edgar. “But it’s just…”

  Asmodeus held up his hand to silence his former underling. “I know. There have been some changes in my time away, and that’s actually why I’m here. I’d like to see who’s been running the club in my absence. So if you don’t mind…”

  “Sure thing, I just have to check—”

  “Simon,” said Asmodeus. “You can open the door now. Or I can break it open with your head. Those are the only two options.”

  Simon’s eyes turned yellow as he swallowed hard. He looked at Edgar and his partner’s eyes widened before he nodded in confirmation. Simon sighed and unlocked the door, then held it open and gestured for Asmodeus to enter.

  “Go on, sir.”

  Asmodeus smiled and patted Simon on the cheek as he walked past. “Thank you, Simon. I’ve always valued your loyalty.”

  Once inside, Asmodeus took stock of his former room. He saw his private bartender in the far corner and the couches arranged in front of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the club. And seated on one of those couches was a man with brown skin, short black hair, and a beard. He was dressed in a white suit with a cigar clamped between his teeth. Resting on the small, circular table beside the couch was a bottle of grain alcohol with a cobra inside and a half-filled glass next to it.

  “Everyone thought you were dead,” he said. “I never quite allowed myself to believe that, though. After all, if there’s one thing that can be said about Asmodeus, it’s that he’s a survivor.”

  “Would seem you are as well,” said Asmodeus as he circled around the couch. He looked down at the man who had claimed his club and offered a faint smile. “Iblis. Seems you’re finally starting to rise up in the world.”

  “A lot’s changed since you’ve been gone, sir,” said Iblis. “I’ve had to adapt in order to survive.”

  “How exactly did you get to be in a position to run Lust?”

  “I’m going to assume you know all about the new boss?” asked Iblis.

  “Yes, that was something of a surprise. Though how exactly did you receive your promotion out of the deal?”

  Iblis rose and gestured to the couch. “Have a seat. Care for a drink or a cigar?”

  “Both as a matter of fact,” said Asmodeus. “I’ve been gone a long time. Haven’t had much of a chance to indulge myself.”

  Iblis signaled for the bartender to prepare a drink for his new guest. Then he opened a wooden box on the table in front of the couch and took out a cigar. After using a cutter to snip the end, he
passed it to his former master.

  Asmodeus put the cigar in his mouth and when he snapped his fingers, a flame appeared on the tip of his thumb. He puffed on the cigar as he held the flame over the end, then shook his hand and the fire went out.

  “I have missed this,” said Asmodeus as the bartender brought him over a glass of brandy. “Now, you were saying…?”

  “After your disappearance, things were bad up here,” said Iblis. “Your loyal lieutenants, they were trying to keep a lid on things, keep the club running, make it seem that you were still here. But obviously, that didn’t last very long.”

  “What happened?”

  “Bottom-feeders with delusions of grandeur. Not only demons, but others as well. Sorcerers and vampires and the like, trying to take over your territory. And other demons as well. I came in from LA to try and keep things under control. But…then she came.”

  “Lilith,” said Asmodeus.

  Iblis nodded. “She was like a ninja, no one saw her coming. Quickly working her way to the top of the food chain and taking control of your lieutenants and this club. I didn’t know it was her at first, but I knew something bad was coming, so I cut a deal with Cross. He takes out the competition, I reap the benefits and consolidate my power, taking control of the position you left vacated.”

  Asmodeus listened as Iblis told the story, gently puffing on the cigar. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and sipped his brandy, never taking his glowing yellow eyes off his former minion.

  “So. You made a deal with Luther Cross. And what did he get out of it?”

  “An end to the chaos that was brewing. I knew from your dealings with Cross in the past that he’d tolerate a demonic presence so long as it was contained. But there was something else about him…something different that I hadn’t counted on…”

  “He wasn’t the man you thought he was.”

  Iblis shook his head. “Not at all. At first, things seemed to work fine. He took out Kimaris for me. But then he and Lilith hooked up and things went south. The Court got involved as well, they sent Belial after them.”

  “There hasn’t been a task serious enough for Belial in centuries, why would they send him?” asked Asmodeus.

  Iblis shrugged. “I have no idea what the reason was. All I know is that Cross and Lilith were apparently dangerous enough to get the attention of Lucifer himself. Next thing I knew, Luther was crowned as the latest addition to the Infernal Court, taking your seat.”

  “He has a claim to it,” said Asmodeus. “Luther’s father was one of The Fallen. But Abraxas was a traitor, why would the Court decide to seat one of his children?”

  “I don’t know. Whatever deal Cross made with the Court, it also guaranteed Lilith’s continued freedom,” said Iblis. “Then, Cross offered me the chance to control the demon territories in Chicago and take over Lust. That was about two months ago.”

  Asmodeus stood and walked over to the glass, staring out at the people crowding in his former club. “Something doesn’t add up. Royal blood or no, Cross’ history with the angels and the Sons of Solomon would make him persona non grata to the Court. Yet they not only gave him a seat at the table, but also allowed Lilith to remain free? That has drastic consequences, and there must be a reason behind it.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about that,” said Iblis. “But what I do know is a lot of your former subjects aren’t too happy about this arrangement. Word has it that Cross has barely spent a full day in Hell since he got the new gig. He hasn’t spoken with anyone on the Court and Lilith is essentially sitting on a powder keg down there. Rumors are spreading like wildfire about a brewing revolution.”

  Asmodeus turned from the glass and looked at Iblis. “Revolution, you say?”

  “You could have it back, my lord,” said Iblis. “I think I speak for all your former subjects when I say that we’d much rather have you in charge instead of Cross.”

  “The old realm doesn’t concern me. At least not for the moment,” said Asmodeus. “What does is something Luther has. Something that’s very important to my continued survival.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Iblis, if we’re going to work together on this, there are some things I need to keep close to the vest,” said Asmodeus. “I’m asking you to trust me as you’ve done in the past.”

  Iblis nodded. “Without question, sir.”

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Asmodeus returned to his seat and took a sip of his drink. “I need you to do something for me. Cross won’t divulge what I want willingly, he’ll need some incentive to do that. What I need from you is to track down someone. Someone who’s very important to him.”

  Iblis sighed. “I think I know who you mean. Celeste King, right?”

  Asmodeus nodded. “Of course.”

  “Bad news is they’re not exactly on speaking terms. In fact, word on the street is Cross is a solitary figure these days. He’s kept pretty quiet ever since he took over your realm. It’s starting to make some people suspicious.”

  “Doesn’t matter if they’re having a lover’s quarrel,” said Asmodeus. “Luther Cross is a very predictable man. You capture someone he cares about, he’ll be drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

  Iblis gave a nod. “Understood. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “One more thing, Iblis,” said Asmodeus. “I don’t want word getting out yet about my return.”

  “Of course. It’s a pleasure to have you back, sir.”

  9

  I didn’t waste any time racing home from the John Hancock Building. Asmodeus was back and he was more reckless than ever. In the past, he always preferred keeping a generally low profile. But unfurling his wings like that in the middle of a crowded restaurant was very uncharacteristic. Purgatory had changed him from the man he used to be.

  That was something we had in common.

  He was after Dakota now and the baby. I’d wanted to get out of this, forget ever having had anything to do with a single part of it. That wasn’t an option. Asmodeus tearing apart half of creation looking for that child would alert the angels. And the possibility of Thanatos getting his claws on a nephilim was probably not going to be good.

  The initial threat was the possibility of the cold war between Heaven and Hell thawing. But throw Purgatory into the mix, and that was a conflict on a cosmic scale no one had ever seen before.

  Only hope was Morrison hadn’t skipped town just yet. Raziel would’ve seen to it that wherever Dakota was staying was shielded, but Morrison walking around gave Asmodeus a lead. The fact that Asmodeus didn’t know about Morrison gave me a slight head-start, but that wouldn’t last long.

  Asmodeus was one of the most resourceful beings I’d ever met. He may not have been a Hell Lord anymore, but he still had plenty of connections. Just the fact that Morrison came to me at the Signature Lounge and that’s where Asmodeus wanted to meet suggested he may already know about the guy.

  I drove into the parking garage and the tires squealed as I pulled to a stop at the curb, making the valet jump for safety. I got out of the car and tossed him the key. He looked at me and blinked a few times as I walked past him and to the elevator.

  “M-Mr. Cross? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine, Jack.” Lie. “Just got to make a really important call to a client and my phone’s out of juice. Hold onto my keys until tomorrow, I’ll get them then.”

  I got into the elevator and hit the button for the penthouse and sighed as I put a cigarette between my lips. As I lit the end, I stared at the ‘NO SMOKING’ sign plastered on the wall. Like I gave a shit at this point.

  The elevator arrived at the top floor and I went to my condo. With my hand out as I approached the door, I shouted, “Aperio!” and the door swung right open.

  I shut and locked the door behind me, then went to the dining room. From the closet, I procured the necessary materials—candles, a map of the city, and some incense. I spread the map on the table and lit four candles, which I place
d around it. Then, I lit the incense and went into the kitchen.

  Locator spells were strongest if you had something of the target. They were possible with just a name and if you’d made personal contact with them, but having something that belonged to them or contained their DNA increased the spell’s accuracy.

  Fortunately, I wasn’t much of a housekeeper. The glass Morrison drank from when he was here was still sitting unwashed in the sink. I took a final drag on the cigarette and tossed it into the sink, then grabbed the glass. Once I was back in the dining room, I placed the glass in the center of the map.

  Then, I started chanting in Latin. I invoked Morrison’s name several times, visualized him in my mind, and channeled the magical energy within my body to tracking him.

  Though I couldn’t see them, the light of the candles flashed against my closed eyelids. I could feel the heat as their flames intensified. And when I opened my eyes, I saw the flames jump from the candles and onto the map.

  They reduced most of the map to ash. It went up quickly, though the flames didn’t touch anything else. The surface of the table beneath was still unblemished. And just as fast as it started, the fire died out, bathing the room in darkness.

  One of the many gifts being a cambion gave me was the power to see in the dark, allowing me to see the table as clear as day. What remained of the map rested there and I picked it up, looking at it.

  The map showed the corner of West Madison and South LaSalle. That was just a few blocks away from Willis Tower in the Loop. I checked the location on my phone to see what could be on the corner of Madison and LaSalle.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  St. Peter’s Catholic Church. I had to get down there before his dumb ass got himself killed.

  Late at night, there was almost no traffic between my condo in the Gold Coast and St. Peter’s in the Central Loop. No street parking was available, so my usual trick of casting an illusion to make it look like I had a parking receipt on my dash wasn’t possible. Instead, had to park at a garage just down the street from the church.