by Rob Cornell
He scowled. “First of all, I don't think Jehovah's Witnesses visit seedy motels. Second…fuck you.”
I laughed again and shook my head. “Why don't you check the bathroom. I'll check the closet.”
He grumbled something under his breath on the way.
I turned to the closet. It had an accordion door. A yellow grime coated the wood, especially thick around the small metal knob from countless hands pulling the door open. My skin crawled at the thought of touching it, so I used the toe of my boot to fold the door to one side.
The woman standing inside with her eyes closed sent a jolt through my chest. My heart seemed to stop for a second, while my blood still rushed, the sound loud in my ears.
Before I could make sense of what I was seeing, the woman opened her eyes. They glistened, solid black as a rodent's. She pulled back her lips, exposing crooked yellow pointed teeth. The snarl she made sounded like nothing human. Which made sense. She might have been a woman at one time, but she was all demon now.
Chapter Eight
The demon woman was dressed like a middle-class mom in a coral blouse and tan slacks. Her feet were bare and lined with black veins, but a pair of flats lay on the closet floor. Her hair was trimmed in a neat bob. In fact, if it weren't for all the visible, pulsing veins in her face and the pure black eyes, she looked like a sweet lady. I hoped she didn't have any family, because they would never see her again.
She leaped out of the closet at me.
I was too startled at the sight of her to dodge. She slammed the palms of her hands against my chest and sent me flying backward. I flailed helplessly until I hit the far wall. I knocked a generic print of a ship sailing toward a pink sunset off the wall on my way to the floor. The corner of its frame jabbed me in the ear.
I landed on my hands and knees. Electric sparks of pain shot through my back. I'd need a chiropractor for sure.
The demon snarled again and trudged toward me. She held her hands up, fingernails replaced by black-tipped claws four inches long. I'd need a lot more than a chiropractor if she got at me with those babies.
I tried to get to my feet, but she moved too fast. I had only made it up to an awkward crouch when she took a swipe at me with one of her claws. I felt them cut the air right in front of my face. When I glanced over her shoulder, I saw why she'd missed.
Odi had his arms wrapped around her waist and was hauling her backward while she continued to whip her claws back and forth uselessly.
After a half-dozen swipes, the demon realized what was holding her back. She twisted at the waist an impossible distance for a normal human. I heard the vertebrae pop as she turned until her upper body almost faced Odi straight on.
Odi's vampire reflexes had him out of her reach right before she stabbed at him. She would have ripped open his throat if he hadn't retreated.
But the motel room was no luxury suite. He didn't have far to go in the cramped space. He came up against the dresser and stopped short. The demon kept after him, technically walking backward since her lower body still faced me. This slowed her down, which gave me time enough to draw on my magic and call the air to assist me. I conjured a hard gust that curved around and hit the demon from the side.
She went down as if tackled by a linebacker.
I moved the wind again, lifted her off the floor, and slammed her against the ceiling. I maintained steady pressure to keep her pinned up there. The torrent of air whipped her neat bob into a ruffled mess. Her blouse rippled and pulled tightly against her torso. The toes of her backwards legs knocked against the ceiling, kicking up plaster dust that swirled away in the wind.
I gritted my teeth and pushed more power into the wind.
The ceiling began to crack around the demon as the pressure crushed her against it.
Her black eyes flashed at me. “You may destroy my host,” she said, her voice a ragged squeal, “but I am eternal.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I raised my hands as if commanding a congregation to its feet. “Tell the folks in hell I said howdy.” My vertical wind tunnel pressed against her even harder. A satisfying series of snaps rang out as her ribs caved inward. This was not the easiest way to kill a demon, but I didn't want to throw fire in such a small room. While the carpet and mattresses probably could use a good burn, I didn't want to risk setting the whole place alight. I was courteous that way.
“Dude,” Odi said. He stared up at her with his jaw hanging wide. “Dude.”
He'd seen me control the air all sorts of times, but he'd never seen a display like this. Hell, I'd never done anything like this.
More bones popped and cracked inside of her.
I clenched a fist and directed a more precise and especially violent blast of wind at her face. The front of her skull crackled like wrapping paper as it caved in.
The demon managed one last scream before her jawbone crumpled inward.
When her black eyes had turned to pools of blood and she stopped struggling, I cut my power. The wind died instantly.
The demon's ragged, twisted corpse dropped to the floor.
For a moment, she lay still. Odi and I stared down at her. Spending the massive amount of power I'd needed to create that torrent of wind had left me light-headed.
A thin wisp of black smoke rose off her body. It smelled like swamp water. It roiled upward, but faded before it reached the cracked ceiling. A few seconds later, the smoke dissipated entirely, as softly as a whisper.
Odi sniffed and made a gagging noise. “What the hell, dude?”
I shuffled over to the nearest bed and eased down onto the edge. “Demon possession.”
“Okay, yeah. But what the hell was she doing in the closet?”
I took a second to catch my breath. My homemade wind tunnel had taken more out of me than I'd realized. “This whole thing,” I said, “was a trap. The witches must have cast something on those guys from the restaurant, I'm guessing. Something that would lead here if anyone tried to magically track them like I did.”
“Then they left a present in the closet for whoever showed up looking.” Odi huffed. “Pretty smart.”
I dragged my hands down my face. “Yeah. Clever as hell. But now we're right back where we started.”
Chapter Nine
I'd promised to make up for skipping Odi's training the night before, and while I didn't feel much like playing Jedi master to his padawan, I didn't want to be a slacker either. Besides, I didn't know what else I'd do except obsess over another lost lead.
We went to our usual training ground—an abandoned school in the city. It wasn't a random pick. It was the same school where I had faced off with Detroit's former elder vampire, Logan Goulet. In fact, Odi and I used the gymnasium where that first meet had gone down. The place had echoes of memories that left my stomach feeling more hollow than usual. But it really was a perfect location to do what we needed to without causing a scene.
Though it smelled like rotting weeds and some long-dead critter.
That night I had a half-dozen mannequins set up in staggered rows stretching from one side of the gym to the other. They were all females, and when I'd set them up a couple days before, I had tried to inject some light into otherwise dark days, and purchased a pointed witch hat for each one.
I had also fashioned them with fleece shirts—something to burn.
Odi smirked as we entered the gym. The light from the torches I'd attached to the walls of the gym flickered across his face. “Har, har.”
“Meet the Maidens of Shadow,” I said. “Six of them at least. Pretty sure there's seven real ones.”
“And here I thought you'd lost your sense of humor.”
“Don't get used to it.”
I led the way to a line of masking tape I'd put on the floor. I pointed down at it. “Toes on the line.”
He took up position. “It's like a free-throw line.”
“Except you're throwing fire instead of basketballs.” I paced behind him, arms clasped behind my back. Not sure why. Guess it
made me feel more mentor-y. “The objective is simple. Set the ladies on fire without knocking them over.”
Odi wrinkled his nose. “Um, what?”
The mannequins were each attached to a metal pole which was bolted to a crossed pair of two-by-fours each only a foot and a half long. Just enough to keep them upright as long as you didn't knock into one.
“This is an exercise in control. I know you can blow things up. But blowing things up should not be your regular go-to. You need to have some finesse. For example, if I'd decided to use flame against that demon, I would have had to show extreme control in order to keep from burning down the whole room.”
“That's why you used the wind instead?”
I nodded. “But we haven't gotten to wind with you yet. So you need to work on using the proper amount of power for any particular situation.”
He stared down the line of mannequins and pursed his lips. “I never did like tests,” he said. “One perk of turning into a vampire before I graduated. No SATs necessary.”
He tried to sound glib, but I heard the sadness below the surface. As such a fresh vampire, he still longed for his former life. And who could blame him? The vampire who had turned him (before abandoning him) had stolen Odi's mortal youth. It pained me to think about. I could only imagine how he felt.
“Try not to think of this as a test,” I said. “More like…a challenge.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Just do your best.”
He nodded, rolled his shoulders, then held out his right hand.
A flame about the size of a pop can ignited in his palm. He took a deep breath, adjusted his stance, then tossed his fire at the closest faux witch.
I had spaced the witches in increasing distance from the line. The first two only stood about ten feet away. Easy targets, but still a challenge as Odi had to light 'em up without knocking them down, and too much oomph could end the challenge right there.
He struck the mannequin square in the chest. The fleece caught fire instantly. The mannequin wobbled on its stand, but remained upright.
“Nice,” I said.
Odi gave his head a cocky waggle. “Float like a butterfly…”
“Easy, Mr. Ali. You still have five more witches to go.”
He sniffed, pulled up another flame, and hit the second target set only a couple feet to the side and back from the first. Another direct hit. Another burn without knocking her down.
Odi pumped his fist. “Yes.”
The smell of burning fleece wafted over to us, blown by a breeze slipping under one of the doors that led from the gym to the back parking lot. I remembered Goulet and Fiona coming through that door. And Mom, in shackles that oppressed her magic.
“You aren't even close to done,” I said.
He glanced over his shoulder at me, brow furled. “Thanks for the encouragement, teach.”
I waved a hand at the remaining four targets. “Show me.”
He turned back, drew another bit of fire, not any larger than the first two. This time he had twenty-five feet to cross. I could already tell he was going to come up short.
He tossed his flame underhand as if bowling. The small comet of fire arced toward the target, but when it sailed downward, it landed four feet short and flashed against the dusty floor, then quickly petered out.
“What the hell was that?”
“Hey.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “I'm doing my best.”
“If that's your best…” I stopped short. Glanced at the door again. Saw Mom coming in with those golden cuffs around her wrists and the chain between them. I took a deep breath. “Try again.”
Odi chewed on his lip for a moment, then put his attention back on the targets.
My gaze kept floating back to the door. I remembered myself walking out through it against my will, commanded by Goulet's thrall. I remembered him leading me into the back of his limo. I remembered the feel of my rage and how it had fueled my magic, broke me from his control. And the buzz in my hand as I unloaded a pistol with silver rounds into his chest.
I clenched my fist. I was back in that moment.
Heat simmered around my hand. When I looked down, I saw the blue fire surrounding it.
Get ahold of yourself, for the gods' sake.
A flash of orange and an echoing clatter drew my attention away from my own fire. Odi had hit the target this time, but it lay on the floor, fully engulfed in flames.
“Shit,” he spat, then spun on his heel to face me. His gaze went down to my flaming hand. His eyes widened.
I swung my free hand out toward the flaming mannequin. “Are you ever going to learn control?”
Odi jerked back as if struck. Then his eyebrows drew together, and gestured toward my hand. “Are you?”
I lifted my flaming fist as if I meant to take a swing at him. In fact, I felt like taking that swing. Vampires didn't respond well to fire. He'd regret talking back to me like that.
“Sebastian,” he said slowly. “Don't take your frustration out on me. It isn't fair.”
I ground my teeth and took a deep breath. My blood felt like fire through my body, rushing to every end. I wanted to attack something. But not Odi. I already had enough trouble keeping my friends.
I shook my hand as if flinging off water. The flame went out. I turned my gaze to the melting mannequin on the floor. Its chest had turned to flesh-toned goo. Its witch hat had crumpled into ashes. I imagined she was a real Maiden. I reveled in the image.
“If you want to help me bring the Maidens to justice,” I said, “you need to do better.”
“I'm trying, damn it.”
I looked him hard in the eyes. “Try harder.”
He sneered. “Whatever, dude. I'm out.”
I watched him walk away. On his way to the outside door, he punched one of the mannequins hard enough to send it flying a good two dozen feet across the gym with a fist-sized hole in its belly.
I should have said something. Apologized. But I let him go.
He slammed the door behind him, and it rang like a broken bell, the sound echoing in the corners of the gymnasium.
Chapter Ten
I gave Odi a few minutes to clear out before I left the building myself. The breeze outside was warm. A jungle-like smell came off the overgrown fields surrounding the school. Crickets chirruped in the tall grass.
It was only three in the morning, which, on my vampire schedule, was the middle of the afternoon for me. But I felt wiped. Between fighting the demon at the motel and the constant tension tugging my nerves straight, I had every right to take a nap. I didn't have anything else better to do.
I glanced around the dark lot on my way to my car, hoping maybe Odi had hung back, and I could put things right between us. No sign of him, though. While I had driven us both to the school, Odi didn't necessarily need a ride home. Vampires were fast runners.
I climbed into my Jetta, slid the key into the ignition, then leaned back and sighed. In the corner of my vision I saw something move in the rear-view mirror. My fatigue blew apart as adrenaline ripped through my system. I gathered my magic on instinct. The feel of its energy buzzed in my bones.
“Sebastian,” a familiar woman's voice said from the back seat.
I adjusted the rear view to see her directly.
Fiona.
First thing I noticed was that she had cut her hair. The blond locks used to hang to the middle of her back. Now it barely brushed her shoulders. It looked nice, and I hated that I thought it looked nice.
I kept my magic at the ready. “What the hell are you doing in my car?”
“I wanted to make sure you'd have to talk to me.”
“You think I can't just blow you out the back window?”
I watched her reflection as she pressed her lips together and thought for a moment. “I'm hoping you won't.”
“My memory is fuzzy. Didn't I say I'd kill you if you came near me ever again?”
“Sebastian, please.” She leaned forward, out of view of the mirror, but I sensed her close to my ear. I could smell her coconut shampoo. “This is important. It's bigger than our…relationship.”
I clenched my teeth. “We don't have a relationship.”
“You know what I meant.”
“I want you to leave now.”
“I can't. You have to hear me out.”
Fiona was a shifter. And, like sorcerers, shifters could sense magical energy when it built. I pumped some more power into mine so that it radiated through the entire car.
Fiona drew back. Her reflection returned to the rear-view mirror. I saw the worry in her eyes and liked it more than I liked her new hair style.
“You wouldn't really hurt me,” she said.
“I've been hurting a lot of people lately. I killed three guys just last night, in fact.”
Her eyes narrowed. The wheels in her mind turned, trying to decide if I was serious or not. “Maybe that's a good thing.”
I snorted. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means we need someone like you. Someone strong. Someone with similar goals.”
I held up my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You already tried to recruit me for your damn mission against the Ministry conspirators. And we both know how that turned out. Your Ministry pals are all dead.”
“Not all.”
“The bastards won, Fiona. The coup worked. The Detroit Ministry has a new regime, and from what I can tell, the Global Ministry Faction doesn't give a flying flip.”
“You're right,” she said. “They've written Detroit off. We're a lost cause. And if the new regime has their way, we are all truly lost.”
“I'd like nothing more than to see those bastards get what's coming to them, but I have my own cause. We don't have similar goals.”
“You don't think taking out the Maidens of Shadow is part of our plan?”
I twisted in my seat to look at her directly. “Whose plan?”
She spoke low, as if she thought someone might be listening in. “The resistance.”
I groaned and pressed my palm against my forehead. “Are you fucking kidding me? The resistance? What is this? Star Wars?”