At the Behest of the Dead (16 page)

With shaking fingers
, I drew on his forehead, right about his eyes. The shape was a star with the point running longer than the others, and straight down until it touched the top of his nose. Then I muttered a word and drew a slash through it, a viscous stroke that parted his skin and made the air smell of burning flesh.

A form rose from the
wound. A head that was bald and feral. I staggered back and stared in shock. The thing turned to me, eyes red, livid, ablaze with malevolence. There were horns on its head and a chain ran from one side of its flat nose, punched through what would have been his cheek, came out the back of its face, and then attached to a long and drooping earlobe.

“He is mine. Be gone and take your charlatan tricks with you.” The voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, c
hildren screaming in pain, sandpaper on metal. It resonated around the room and sent me reeling. Balkir backed away, hopefully to prepare a nice spell of obliteration. After all, demons were his specialty, not mine. The demon moved his head, watching Balkir, who muttered words that seethed through the air and made me want to bash my head against the floor to stop their incessant buzzing.

“
Balkir, let him speak!”

The guards poked their head in the open door and gasped. They drew glyphs, forming chains of binding. I wanted to shout for them to stop but it was too late.

The demon turned his burning gaze on the security guards and gestured. They were picked up and thrown across the room. One landed on top of a desk covered in old vials then scrambled around as the glass containers burst, spraying colorful fluids in every direction. The other was unlucky enough to miss the wall and smashed through the blinds covering the windows, then with a noise like a detonation the glass gave and the guard plummeted below.

While he was distracted
, I activated my wards. Cruel metal barbs bit into my chest as the shield fell into place.

The demon fixed me with his burning gaze
, and I swear he was smiling with that lipless cut of a mouth drawn back over cracked and moldering teeth. If he weren’t bound to his ward, he would rip me limb from limb.

“Hello
, Phineas Cavanaugh. The kin know you well and await your, shall we say, imminent arrival.”

“Yeah? You second ward? I like to know where my new home will be located.”

“Third, human. I thought you would be smarter.” His voice made me want to bite my tongue in half.

Demon’s
always lie, so he was probably second. If a fourth ward were somehow brought to this realm it would probably be the end of us all. Chalk up one clue.

“Who killed Salazar?” I liked to get to the point.

Kneeling upright so I could see the demon’s face, I dropped my hand to the side and pawed at my bandolier.

“Should we bargain
, Phineas? I know you must have something to offer.”

“How about my soul?
”

“As if you h
ad one. Nothing else to offer? No bargain to strike?” That voice was driving me insane. I wanted to claw my eyes out and shove them in my ears.

“Okay
, see you around.” I said and took out a vial of saltpeter.

“Wait.” One word. I
t was a start.

“
I’m all ears.”

“An offering, perhaps?”

“Just blood. I won’t take a chance on you raising some half spawn of mine.”

“Ah Cavanaugh, you take the joy out of the hells.”

I hated this. Balkir should have come to my side and done the offering. He was good at this kind of stuff.

I took the razor sharp piece of ivory from my pouch
and a small vial from another. The cut was quick and burned when I tilted my palm over the opening. I drained enough to half fill the container and then wrapped a small binding around the wound.

“Thanks for the help,
Balkir.” I looked up but he had retreated to the other side of the room. He watched with wide eyes as if he were excited by the proceedings. Nasty old fart, he was probably enjoying my bumbling around in his realm. I bet he was taking notes on my mistakes so he could mock me later.

I poured the blood
on the corpse of my old teacher. The crimson fluid burned and turned into smoke. Wisps of grey rose from the stain and coated the room in a coppery smell. The demon leaned over and inhaled. His eyelids flickered closed. He kept at it, his lipless mouth pulling farther apart in that horrid imitation of a smile. I popped the top of the saltpeter and let some stick to my bloody fingertip.

The overhead lights flicker as the demon withered in pleasure.

Then he went for me.

I was braced for it but he came in like a flamethrower, all piss-anger, black hate, and aggression. I strove for words and unleashed a powerful glyph laced with the saltpeter that should have raked the demon with punishing claws. They rippled as they flew agai
nst my new adversary and were -- rebounded.

I fell back in a flurry of robes once again, my hand going to my pouch as I crawled around a bulky metal lab table.

He probably saw his reflection on the other side and turned away. Not much protection, and the minute he figured it out I was dead. My blood should have satisfied him, been a sufficient offering to keep him on this plane. But there was no way he could have escaped his ward. He was bound, and only a master summoner could have freed him. However that required someone to go beyond the cusp and that simply didn’t happen. What was the beast even doing here? I had called Salazar’s soul, not this fire dweller!

I reached for a vial at the end of my bandolier. The fluid was clear and almost languid. I grabbed the container and popped the top.
Moonwater.

I scrambled around to the other side of the room. Instead of being bound in place, the demon had taken form.
It was squat, built like a bulbous toad, and covered in pus filled warts that moved over the surface of his mottled black skin. He had one ragged horn on the left side of his head. The other was snapped halfway along its length on that side of his scorched face. He looked like he’d been dragged over an icicle.

“Why’d you kill him?”

“Ask me when I’m feasting on your soul.” He rose to his full height, three legs unfolding one after another, joints pointed backwards so his two back legs looked reversed, and towered over me. He would rip me limb from limb if this didn’t work.

The night before I had faced a smaller version of this demon
, but it was a minor threat compared to this beast. The first demon had been young, with the only thing going for it being speed and a wicked curved blade attached to a third arm. Even armed and armored I was no match for this fresh apparition from hell.

“Hey asshole, you look parched.” I slashed the air with the contents of the vial. It came out in an arc and spread in a mist that would be the equivalent of spraying acid at a human. When it struck his flesh
, he was going to be in a world of pain and much more pliable. I might even be able to figure out a way to bind him. At the very least, Balkir should be able to step in and cast some kind of net over the demon.

But the fluid evaporated before it could touch his skin.

Oh shit.

That
stuff was blessed by a saint. It should have sent him cowering, should have had him screaming.

The room rocked when he howled with laughter. I staggered back around the little table, pressing my back against it. What did I have left that would be any kind of use against this demon?
I still had a bit of the blood-mire, but I hadn’t even had a chance to sit down and treat it. It was pretty much useless in its current state. I supposed I could drink it and use myself as a portal, maybe send the demon to wherever it had originated from.

Balkir
appeared at last and he was chanting. He had a large stick in his hand, a wand I hoped. It couldn’t be a staff because warlocks didn’t use such things and expect to be taken seriously. He struck the ground and the room went silent. Felt like the air was sucked right out of it.

“Demon, attend.”

The thing turned blazing eyes on Balkir and then there was a flicker … of respect?

What the hell was going on here?

“Our game has gone on too long and I have new commands. Capture Phineas and contain him. I will release you from the remainder of our agreement.”

I turned my gaze on the old man and studied him for the briefest of moments. He stood, feet spread, arms locked around the staff.

“You killed him?”

“Not me, fool.” He nodded to the demon with a grin.

“See how funny you think this is.”

While crawling out of the demon’s line of sight
, I had removed a fresh vial from my bandolier. The bottle sat like a lump of lead, cold as a winter night. I didn’t bother to open it. Instead I crushed the glass, unmindful of the shards digging into my already burned hand.

I dove forward and found my metal desk again. The demon moved like rasping paper, all sinew and desiccated muscl
es. I stood up and blew that fine powder in his direction, muttered a primer, and cover my head with my arms. I curled up in a ball as the sulfur and brimstone reacted to the air. The two substances took form and flew at him like an angry ball of wasps.

The explosion was immense. I had time to strengthen the shield. It bit into my flesh, making blood flow.

I curled my body, but it still felt like I was dropped from the second story of a building. I couldn’t breathe, and all I heard was a voice in my head screaming as flames washed over the room. Everything in sight went up in the conflagration.

Balkir
was caught up in the explosion, his body thrown against the wall so hard that it had to have snapped bones like twigs. I caught the look of surprise in his eyes, the look of fear, and it send a wave of comfort into my soul.
That’s right, you prick. That was me paying you back.

With the old guy out of the way, at least momentarily, I risked a glance up and saw the demon striding through the fire, distended legs moving fast. Then it was nearly on top of me and I barely get off a new vial, this one filled with maiden’s blood. The glass shattered and the demon came to a staggering halt. He sniffed the air then looked at the red stain. His malevolent eyes went downright melancholy
, so I decide to slip outside the room and see if anyone else in this cursed building had caught on that there was a battle happening and I needed help!

As I fell out the door
, I was greeted by a flurry of faces, some inquisitive, some fearful, and some pissed. That last blast probably shook the entire building and I knew they didn’t want any trouble from the local authorities.

Lukan
wasn’t there. Where was his Sir-nosy-ness? He should be here with his spells at the center of the battle for his master, as well as his nose up Balkir’s ass. That told me a lot about Lukan. He either knew about the attempt on my life and had helped, or he was a chickenshit and was in hiding.

A couple of fresh security guards arrived. One of them dragged his gun out of a holster. It was a big caliber pistol that looked heavy as a lead pipe. He poked his head in the room before we could call a warning and was snatched away. He screamed
, but only long enough for his head to be ripped off with a sound that reminded me of fabric being torn. The other guard looked at me, aghast, turned on his heel, and ran. He was the only smart one out of us all.

I leapt forward, grabbed the door handle
, and slammed it shut.

Among the few faces that didn’t follow the runaway guard was one o
ther I did not expect. Her black hat was drawn up high so the floppy end didn’t cover her eyes. Her robe was also dark and looked like it was woven out of thick black spider silk. There were patterns, but they seemed designed to expose flesh in some areas as much as cover it up in others. It wasn’t sheer, there were just large swaths missing, but it had to be fashionable because she was not about to show up in a frumpy black get-up like me.

“Hey
, Glenda. Long time no see.” I smiled at her in what I hoped was a winning way, but I was all too aware that my face was probably covered in blood and soot.

“Phineas,” s
he said by way of greeting. “I should have known.”

“It’s n
ot my fault! Balkir’s lost it. Son-of a bitch loosed a demon in there.”

She glared
, but at least she didn’t try to turn me into a daisy or cast a shrinking disease on my manhood.

Glenda blinked and shook her head.
“You mean to tell me he tried to bring the building down just now?”

“That part was
me.”

I scrambled back, trying to get to my feet but getting caught up in my robe
instead, which was, much to my annoyance, smoking. That made three in two days. I should just buy stock in Robes-R-Us.

The door! If I could get to it maybe I could reverse one of the glyphs and keep the demon on the other side for a few minutes. That would give us enough time to
wait for reinforcements. Maybe a cannon would show up, or a small tactical nuclear weapon.