Blood Debt (The Blood Sisters Book 2) (15 page)

Duncan
grabbed at a tree branch, anything to slow his pace. Rocks cut at the skin
exposed on his back and his head thumped over old tree stumps.

“Wait,”
Duncan gasped as they came into a clearing. Demons gathered, their hands around
his arms and forced him up. Twenty strong, Duncan struggled, but he couldn’t
throw them off.

Vain had
baited him and he fell for her tricks. His anger clouded his
judgment
and look where that had gotten him.

A run
down bus and in front of that, Vain waited. Her silver leather
catsuit
gleamed in the moonlight and was a
stark
contrast
to her olive skin—her dark
dreadlocks. She touched her bloody lip and winced, like she wasn’t used to
pain. Funny, shouldn’t she be tougher than that?

Duncan
was thrown down at her feet and he stared up her silver boots. He needed a
weapon. Something. Anything to slow down what was about to happen. Grasping at
straws, his heart pounded wildly in his chest. “What’d you give that girl, huh?
What’d you do to her?”

The only
thing Vain gave him was a kick to the face. His jaw slammed together as he was
thrown sideways. Stars fluttered into his mind from the blow.
 
“You’re in no position to ask questions.”

His mind
swirling with ideas, none of which would get him out of the situation he was
currently in. The smug look on Vain’s face made his temper run hot. Maybe he
hurt her, sure. Maybe he used her and embarrassed her, but she was the one who
kidnapped girls. Sold them into the trade.

The one
who sold his sister to Vaughn. They had harmed and killed countless girls so
how dare she be the one who got to be high and mighty?

He took a
swing at Vain, but she blocked it with a forearm and struck him with her other.
Right smack across his lip. It busted open and a warm gush of blood traveled
down his chin.

Bad day,
this one was going down in the record books.

Vain
sneered as she squatted and tangled her fingers into his hair. She yanked it
back and gave him a cool, calculated sneer. “I have my prize, now boys it’s time
for you to claim Vaughn’s. Head to the church and gather Amanda Blood, dead or
alive.”

Duncan
shook his head, desperate. She couldn’t do that. They—he’d just gotten Jessica
back. Amanda had to be allowed to work her magic.
 
“No, you can’t…not the Bloods…”

“Why not?
You going to stop me?”
Vain
laughed.
“Please.”

“Leave
them alone.” Duncan’s mind swirled for an answer. His mouth long dry, he licked
his lips. “I’ll come with you, all right? You can do whatever you want with me,
but you leave them alone.”

Her eyes
contracted and the skin around them
creased
.
“Pretty sure I’ve already
have
you where
I want you. If Vaughn wants them…”

“But you
don’t,” Duncan rushed on. “You don’t care about them or his little games,
right? Let the Bloods go tonight, send your demons away and I…I won’t run. I
won’t try to escape. You can do whatever you want to me for as long as you want
and I’ll never leave.”

Duncan
squeezed his eyes shut as he said it. Didn’t want to make sure a fool’s
promise, but if it meant Amanda and Jessica were safe, then Duncan had to make
that promise. A long ago memory of Jessica smiling at him flashed in front of
him bright as day. He remembered that face, that lightness she once had.

If she
could get that back, have another chance, Duncan had to give her time. Had to
go with Vain if it meant that Jessica had a fair shot.

Had to.

Vain’s
face flushed with anger and she huffed a deep breath. “They mean so much to you
that you would trade your life for theirs? What makes them special?”

“So make
the deal.” Duncan gritted his teeth. “Make the trade. My life, for theirs.”

“I ought
to kill you now…”

“Make it
slow.” Duncan swallowed. “Make it painful, just let them go. They’ve done
nothing to you. It was
me,
though, huh?
Hurt you. Embarrassed you.” He leaned forward and whispered, “left you for
dead.”

Her face
spread in a slow, cruel smile. “All right, Jasper. You’ll have it your way, but
first…” she leaned in and gripped his face, slowing her breath down so their
lips would meet. Repulsive, her breath was like a pig’s and her warm tongue was
the last thing Duncan wanted, but he did his part. He had
a promise
to keep, so he didn’t fight her.
Wasn’t an active participant, but he knew what Vain wanted.

How he
had hurt her. Now Vain wanted her revenge. She’d make him suffer in ways pain
couldn’t. Duncan steeled himself to go through with it. To help those he loved
the most but the idea that Vain might touch him…

“Get him
up and then we leave.”

“But…”
Two demons glanced at each other. “Mistress…Vaughn.”

“Silence!”
Vain hissed. “Do you follow me or do you follow Vaughn? Get. Him. Up. Vaughn
will be made to understand. I’m not the only one who wants revenge.” She spat
the words and climbed her way onto the bus.

Duncan
had no recourse as he was helped up and herded onto the bus like an animal. It
might as well have been a funeral
procession
,
but he hoped his promise bought the Bloods enough time to get far away from
here. Two or three days with Vain and Duncan would do what he did best.

Break his
promise.

He just
had to find a way to survive. Had to find a way for Vain to keep him around
long enough to survive. Not a praying
man
but Duncan
prayed
then. What he was going
to have to do, it was as if he had just sold his soul.

H
oly water
erupted all around Mike.

Keeping
his head down as bullets flew; he grabbed the iron railing of the building next
door. Racing up the stairs, his heart pounded and he twisted the door knob to
let himself in.

The old
soup kitchen was neatly organized. The chairs were upside down on the tables
while the freshly mopped green and white tile floor sparkled. Too bad his muddy
feet had covered it with slick puddles. Little he could do about that as he
dove for a window and smashed it open.

Outside,
demons swarmed like vermin.

Mike
opened fire. From so far above, it was like hitting fish in a barrel. Most
demons were too stupid to take
cov
er, but
a choice few fled behind a stack of crates and others dove behind a car.

Gunfire
erupted and Mike ducked down beneath the
window pane to avoid the spray. In his
pocket,
he fumbled with an ammunition cartridge. Snapping the old one out, he threw it
to
the ground and put the new clip in its place.
At the next break of gunfire, Mike stood and blasted a demon before he got
comfortable again behind a taxi cab.

The other
dropped right beside a crate.

Mike
sighed and leaned his head against the wall. He didn’t have time to loose, he
knew that, but by everything that was holy, his breath was labored. His legs
were tired and his
spirit weak
. He wasn’t
a young man anymore, so why did he keep putting himself in the field? What was
it about Duncan Jasper and those Blood girls he couldn’t say no to?

You swore an oath, Mortenson. Rid the
world of evil. Uphold the honor of the cloth…

He had
never thought truer words. No time to rest, Mike pushed himself off the wall,
despite the creaking in his knees. Had to go check on Amanda, make sure Duncan
made it back to the church. Too much to do to worry about his old body and how
much longer it’d last. He’d been fighting demons so long, Mike didn’t know
anything else. Everything about life—friends, good times—were something he
hadn’t known in years.

He
worried about mankind as a whole, but the idea that he’d worry about
individuals? Something he hadn’t done since he broke with his first parish.
When he’d seen the real terrors of the world for the first time. This new worry
he had for Amanda Blood, of all people, terrified him. The idea of letting
someone into his heart—even if it was just compassion—unnerved him.

Especially
her. Especially any Blood. Why, after Gwen…

A rapid
knock at the
door
made Mike gasp. The small window flashed with red lights which
meant only one thing. “Police!” The man bellowed from outside the door. “Open
up!”

Mike bit
his lip and stashed his gun under the countertop. He smoothed his hair as he
strolled over to the door, but the impatient cop was already knocking again.
Pulling the door open, Mike tried to keep her expression neutral. “Good
evening, officer.”

Staring
straight into his eyes, the cop nudged his hat in a greeting. “Father, I was
afraid you might be in trouble. Outside was a…scuffle and the windows to the
soup kitchen are broken. Everything all right in there?”

“Yes,”
Mike said and crossed his wrists behind his back. “I heard the noise too, from
the rectory. I came to check on things and everything appears in order. You
don’t need to come in and check, do you? I was about to lock up and do
something about those windows, before too much rain gets inside.”

The cop
pursed his lips together as he thought it over. His vision shifted to over
Mike’s shoulder and back up to his face. “You’re sweating, Father. You sure
there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

He wasn’t
buying any of it, but what could he do other than just try harder? Mike laughed
and dabbed at his forehead. “Just a little rain.
Wet
out there, as I alluded. If that’ll be all…”

The cop
stepped forward. “I think a quick look around is all I need. Then I’ll get out
of your hair.”

Disappointed,
Mike nodded and stepped aside. He wiped his mouth as the cop entered the soup
kitchen, but Mike did his best not to sigh. Instead, he followed the cop
around, blocking the counter where his gun was hidden with a simple leaning
motion. “Most of the damage is over there.”

The cop
followed his pointed finger toward the window. He touched the window sill with
his finger and leaned over. “You care to make an official complaint?”

Mike
shook his head. “Not at this point, no. It’s late and as I’ve said…”

Straightening
up, the cop approached him, his hands on his belt like he was the Clint
Eastwood type. “Funny thing is, Father, there’s no glass on the floor here.
It’s all out on the street, which means, someone in here broke that window.”

Mike
raised his eyebrows. Well, was this fellow out for his detective promotion, or
what? “You don’t say…”

The cop
ran his tongue along his teeth. “I do say. Now I’m wondering who here broke
that window and why they might have done it. Pretty good with faces, if I do
say so myself. And I’ve never seen you in the Parrish before.” He offered Mike
his hand. “Why don’t you hand me your ID so I can get this all sorted out?” The
cop smiled. “Unless you have a problem with that?”

Mike did
have a problem with that, a very big problem with that. There was no way out
without violence and Mike took an oath to protect God’s children, not harm
them. Demons were one thing; they were the mission, but people? Mike was
supposed to help them, misguided as they sometimes were.

“Yes…”
Mike cleared his throat and patted his overcoat. “My ID, I’m afraid I left it
in my sleeping quarters. If,
however,
you
were to follow me there, I’m sure we could work this out.”

The cop
came close to an eye roll, and Mike’s stomach plunged into his feet. He raised
his hand to put on Mike and in that instant a bolt of electricity flew out from
the door and struck the cop.

 
His back arched, arms extended, his mouth fell
open. His breath erratic was a scream that couldn’t be heard.

Mike
backed away and grabbed his gun from beneath the counter. The cop’s body fell
with a thump twitching involuntarily like a dead fish. Sweeping his gun toward
the door, Mike saw a woman step from beyond the darkness. Her hair still tied
back in a yellow bandana and her hands were zotting with electricity.

Gwen. Or
the woman who was once Gwen.

“They can
be so much trouble now, can’t they?” Gwen tilted her
head
toward the fallen cop. “A simple thank you, will suffice.”

A long
time ago he had known her. Despite how
age had weathered his heart, it still hurt to see her used like this. Mike
gripped the gun and his lip curled. “Back away, she-demon. Or I’ll make you.”

Gwen’s
boots echoed across the floor. “You won’t harm this host. I have full access to
her memories. I know what you both did.” Placing a hand over her heart, Gwen’s
face twisted with mockery. “So touching. Young, forbidden love. A man like you,
well I can see what she saw in you.”

Mike
licked his lips and didn’t much appreciate the snarl Gwen wore. She was a hard
woman, even in those early days, but she was fair. A great woman who took up
the mission just like he did, their styles were just…different. What the demon
was turning her into was a damn shame. “What do you want?”

“I need
into that church and you’re going to help me.”

Gwen
going after Amanda seemed blasphemous. Mike’s lips drew together in
determination. “Never.”

She
pouted as if she expected that answer. Her hand swirled
in
the air and a single bolt of lightning shot out and struck
Mike’s gun. With a yelp, he dropped it and cradled his hand. Quickly, he bent
down to pick it up, ignoring the popping in his knees.

Gwen
shouted out a curt warning. “Don’t!” her words were punctuated with a crackle
of electricity. If he went for the gun, he was a dead man.

Ready for
death, maybe, but Mike wasn’t welcoming it at his door. He straightened up
slowly and held his hands out to the side. Play along with her and find a way
out; that was Mike’s plan. He just hoped he’d survive that long.

Gwen
circled in close from the side with a small smile. “Glad to see you can be
reasoned with, Father Mike.” Her boot kicked his gun away under a prep counter
against the wall.

Mike
followed it and searched the room for something he could use against the demon.
There was no way he was helping to bring this demon into the church where
Amanda was, but to hurt Gwen—Mike stifled a sigh when he realized the only way
to win against
a she-devil
such as this
was to exorcise Gwen.

The
spirit needed to be forced out of her body, but the last time Mike had done
such a thing, it had nearly killed him. That had been with days, weeks of
preparation, with the right supplies, the strongest of
prayers
and a three day fast. How Mike was going to approach such a
thing here with only his bible, such an idea was ludicrous. The church wouldn’t
approve, but then again Mike didn’t either.

“Don’t
try anything funny,” Gwen said with a lift of her hands. “I can make this go
very badly.”

Mike
nodded. “After you.”

Gwen gave
him a sideways glance. “As if I’m really that stupid? I’m a demon from
Lourdes’s inner circle, not some foot soldier.” With a
sneer,
she pushed him forward. “Get moving.”

Mike
stumbled and braced himself on the counter. “Forgive me,” he spoke dryly as his
hand went for the container of salt, “but these knees, they’re an old man’s.”

She
laughed at his remark. “I guess I should’ve made you kneel.”

Gripping
the shaker in his hand, Mike pivoted toward her and with a thrust
threw
granules of salt into her face. Gwen
shrieked and was driven back, her eyes misted green as the demon inside of her
recoiled.

“You will
be the one who kneels!” Mike threw more salt into her face as he approached
her. Gwen’s back slammed into the edge of a metal prep table with her arms up
defensively
. Her hands lit up with an
electrical charge, but it was sporadic. Her concentration had been weakened and
Mike couldn’t afford to let her get it back.

He tore
the rosary he wore under his shirt free from his neck and held it against
Gwen’s head. With a shrill
scream,
she
fell to her knees, the green smoke of the demon circling closer to the surface.
Mike used an open palm
to
Gwen’s head to
keep her steady.

“Forgive
this woman, Father, for she knows not what she does.”

“You…ca
n’t
…exorcise me!” Gwen gritted her teeth as
smoke rose up from her flesh. “You’re not strong enough, old man!”

Old? Who
was this demon to call him old?

Gwen
grabbed his ankle and the electrical bolt flattened him on his back. His Rosary
beads went flying and Gwen cackled with delight. Mike rolled on his side and
gripped the edge of a cast iron pan just in the nick of time. Gwen’s hands went
around his neck and Mike swung the frying pan against the side of her head.

Blood
splatter flew from her mouth and Gwen fell to her side. Rolling away she
crawled toward the door. Mike couldn’t let her get away. God forgive him, he
lunged for her with outstretched hands and slammed her face into the floor.

She
moaned and fell still on the ground, her fingers twitching, eyes closed. Blood
flowed from her possibly broken nose. Her face had seen better days, thanks to
the salt burns on her flesh.

Heaving
for breath, Mike leaned on the counter. There wasn’t time to rest. The demon in
Gwen wouldn’t allow her to be unconscious long. “I’m sorry, Gwen,” Mike
whispered and made the sign of the cross in the air, but turned from her
quickly.

He had a
job to do.

Mike
turned the faucet on and under the sink found an empty giant jug. He stuck it
under the running water. While it filled he snatched his bible and Rosary
beads. For what he was going to do, he needed holy water and lots of it.

Once
filled, Mike kissed his bible and made the sign of the cross in the air,
muttering a silent prayer.

Taking
off his jacket and his collar, Mike searched the kitchen for some kitchen twine
or some rope. What he was going to do wouldn’t be sanctioned by the church.
Barely even sanctioned it himself, but he had no choice but to try.

Even if
it led to both their deaths.