Demon Singer (19 page)

"Yes you can, Lover!" she nodded encouragingly as she took a long pull off her poisoned milkshake.  "These aren't humans."  

"What do you want from us?" Lyric asked the waitress who stood nearby with a decidedly hostile expression.

"We want the demon singer dead," the woman snarled.  As if from nowhere, a familiar looking black blade was in her hand.  Lyric began to ask why when a voice cried out.  "The veil will fall!" And all hell broke loose.  

The diners suddenly displayed a variety of ugly weapons and intent to use them.  Cadence, swift as thought, engaged and dispatched two large men and a woman who were heading straight for Lyric.  

Acheron leapt from her seat and was making a mess of their attackers, a gleeful expression on her face.  Abruptly her eyes registered surprise and she began moving as if she was swimming in honey.  

Lyric noticed this and looked around for the cause as he concentrated on one of the songs he'd been preparing from Mistress Holt's book since the vampire attack.  As he began to sing all the diners within twenty feet of him went flying through the air as though swatted by a very large hand.  Those on the periphery tried to advance but as soon as they entered the blast zone, they were treated the way their comrades were.  Cadence took the opportunity to wipe her knives off and clean blood from her face.  

Lyric kept singing, wondering what had happened to Acheron, who was moving even slower than before.  She looked to be trying to get closer to him, so he stepped toward her, beckoning Cadence to stay close.  He watched in fascination as he approached their attackers with his repellant song and they immediately flew away from him.  

He knew he couldn't keep up the song indefinitely and needed to switch to something more offensive than defensive.  As he was considering the possibilities, a hole in the effectiveness of his current plan became evident.  Even though they couldn't approach there was nothing stopping the attackers from hurling their weapons at the trio.

Cadence became a whirlwind of steel, knocking the projectiles out of the air as they came.  Lyric was again astonished at her skill as he hurriedly flipped mentally through his repertoire.

Our tie dumbass

Acheron's thought reached him the same time he came up with the same idea.  Any guilt he might feel was heavily tempered by the fact these people were doing their level best to turn him and his companions to pudding.  

Focusing on the tie, he felt the power, eager and seductive, seeking to be unleashed.  Forcing down his revulsion he tapped into it and channeled it into his repulsion song. The results were remarkable.  Though there was no visible explosion, the result was the same.  Everyone in the diner not protected by his will was picked up like pieces of straw and hurled violently through the air to land in various piles of brokenness.

Cadence stopped and calmly walked to Acheron's side, carefully examining the demoness who was now moving so slowly it was barely perceptible.  

"What's going on with you?"  Lyric asked, surveying the wreckage around them.  Their tie fluttered inside and he listened to it.

Old magic.  Someone cast a spell on me.  These bastards have magic and poison that shouldn't exist anymore.  Look out!

Lyric turned just in time to present his left side as a lovely target for the man who'd just hurled the knife at him.  He found it surprising how much it hurt.  At the same time, he heard two screams, one familiar and one strange.  Looking down at the blade buried to the hilt in his left side he decided it didn't belong there and so pulled it out.   His surprise deepened as the fiery agony of removing the knife caused his legs to buckle and abruptly he was in a heap on the floor.  It was with guilty satisfaction he noted the man who threw the blade was also on the floor, one of Cadence's blades sprouting from his throat.  The woman was on her knees at his side examining his wound.  The knife he still held in his hand was familiar.  With a sinking feeling, he realized what it was, the waitress' banishing blade.

"Oh shit," he heard Acheron exclaim and looked over to see her crumple to the ground.  Turning her head weakly she said to him, "you suck."  Her eyes closed and she disappeared.

17 THE GRAY ANGEL

Lyric felt for the tie and found it there but barely a flicker came from it.  Confident Acheron was still living, Lyric let Cadence help him up.  He looked around at the bodies scattered all over as the warrior assisted him to the car.

"We've got to get out of here." He told her.  "If you can drive for a little while so I can try to stop the bleeding, I'll drive us the rest of the way to Albuquerque."

Cadence looked at him in consternation and pointed to a hospital sign on the side of the road.

"Yes, I should go to the hospital, but since we just got attacked by an entire restaurant I think it's safer to wait till we get to our destination."

Cadence considered this for a moment then nodded grimly and pressed down on the accelerator.  The luxury car took off like a shot and Lyric's self-proclaimed protector maneuvered it easily around slower vehicles.  Apparently, she intended to break some land speed records.  Lyric concentrated on his wound and began singing.

Singers were taught how to heal in their sixth measure, but were warned against doing it to themselves.  There were too many things that could go wrong and worsen any wound, it really wasn't worth the risk.  However, Lyric decided the risk was acceptable in this situation.  He watched in satisfaction as the blood flow stopped.  The pain turned to a dull throbbing, and the skin around the puncture was turning an ugly gray.  He covered it with one of his spare t-shirts and applied pressure, which almost made him pass out from the pain.  Grimly he forced himself to deal with other pressing matters.

Turning his focus back to the tie, he examined it closely.  The odd discordant speed bump was still there, but the power that lay on the other side was barely a trickle.  Cautiously he moved along the tie, seeking Acheron's consciousness.  It seemed he kept going much further than usual, and the connection felt muddy.  Finally, he became aware of something that resembled a giant black fishing weight of power tangled up in the tie that surged slightly as he approached.

Acheron?
 He directed his thoughts at the weight.

Hang on to the tie, Lover, I'm trying to make it back.

What's this black thing?  
Lyric wondered.

A giant pain in the ass
, came the reply
stop distracting me, I'm working.

Lyric stopped distracting her and sang his soul song, poking at the black mass.

Ouch!  Dammit, Lyric, leave it alone!  Just concentrate on the tie.

Where are you?  
Lyric couldn't help asking.  Acheron demonstrated the ability to sigh mentally.

I'm on the Verge, the only reason I'm not all the way back in hell is because of our tie.  You were stabbed by a banishing blade.  You're not a demon, but you're tied to one.  So the magic of the blade was activated, but couldn't do anything to you, it came for me instead.  Our tie gave me an anchor to stop short of hell.  The problem is that damn spell creates a stopper of sorts, to prevent the hellion from coming back through the same channel.  It isn't strong enough to seriously damage a soul song tie, but it's strong enough to slow me down and require a stupid amount of effort to return.  Now please shut up, sing your song and let me work.

Lyric continued his soul song, but ignored the black weight and instead focused on strengthening his end of the tie.  Briefly, he wondered why she didn't just go to Hell and return.  After an interminable amount of time, Lyric sensed a presence.  Opening his eyes he looked back to see Acheron slowly fade into view.

"Welcome back," he said.

"I'm not back, I'm stuck at the stopper.  Unfortunately, the magic in the banishing blade is activated and powered by blood.  This means I'm fighting not only against the magic of the blade, but the power in your blood as well.  For yours truly that's inconvenient at the least, and downright tragic for both of us if we don't get that wound of yours healed."

"I've stopped the bleeding," Lyric told her.  "We're going to find a hospital in Albuquerque to stitch it up.  I'll get some antibiotics while I'm there.

Acheron shook her head.

"You can close up the wound but the poison of the magic will still be there."

"I have no idea what to do about that.  I don't know of any Singers stationed around here."

"Silly boy," Acheron chuckled tiredly.  "soul singers aren't the answer to every woe.  There are many supernatural healers, but our best bet is to find a mute.  Establish a need for protection.  If you can do that, just being in their presence will expel any magic harmful to you."

"Wouldn't that expel you too?"

"No, I mean you no harm. It won't be fun for me, but our tie should protect me just like before.  Mutes have a limited function, but their magic within that framework is extremely sophisticated and powerful.  Truth is I'd be interested in seeing what happens out of sheer curiosity."

"Why don't you just stop fighting it and let it send you to Hell?"

"Because it's not the same as traveling there myself.  This spell will remain on our tie between you and me, always pushing me back.  Try swimming in tar with lead boots, that's what it feels like. If I let it push me all the way to Hell I won't be able to come back."

Lyric turned back around, wincing at the pain in his side.  Looking at Cadence, he saw she was lovely as ever with the exception of deep purple circles under her eyes.  

"If you pull over I'll drive for a while," Lyric offered.

Cadence glanced pointedly at his side and shook her head with a smile.

Lyric rather figured she'd refuse; he looked back at Acheron to see she'd vanished.  Frowning, he immediately focused on their tie.  He found her presence where she said she was, behind the stopper.

Acheron?

I'm here, Lover, it takes too much effort to project an image from here.  Just find that mute, the sooner the better.

* * *

She lifted her weary head.  There were twelve more on their way and a blindingly bright spot coming in the front.  Swift as thought she raced to the back of the building and met them in the air at the far edge of the property line.   She grunted in surprise as she saw the attackers she faced were larger than those who usually laid siege to her hospital.  No matter, they would topple like the rest.  They attacked her as one. The grounds keeper whose marijuana she kept confiscating was thirty feet below the struggle lighting a joint.  She barely had time for an exasperated sigh before battle was joined.  

* * *

Sitting in the curb, Marshall shivered, as though grazed by the finger of death.  Looking at his freshly lit joint, he flicked it to the asphalt and hurried inside.

* * *

Powerful, but not all-powerful.  The guardian wasn’t concerned she would lose.  She never lost.  Her concern was that none of them made it past her.  She didn’t like them in her hospital.  Eight of them latched onto her and the other four made for the building.  Eyes narrowed in anger, the sword of wrath flamed to life in her hand.  The demons fell like wheat as she cut through them.  In moments, she was flying through the ash of her attackers to stop the other four.  

One of them spun in the air and hurled darts of hell fire at her face.  Her wings came up just in time to shield her.  Those were from Trytohn's personal armory.  Who were these hellions?  No matter, they'd soon be reporting failure.  Surging forward, she cut through two of them.  Number three hit the brakes and pulled out a whip, while number four sped on.

Furious at how close he was getting to her hospital, the angel drew back her arm to hurl her sword at him.  Her wrist burned and her hand went numb as the icy lash of the demon behind her struck.  Her lifeless fingers could not hold the sword anymore and it flared out.  With a mighty yank, she pulled the demon closer with his own weapon and shattered his skull with her left fist.  He spun heavily to the ground and with a swift jerk, she pulled the whip handle from his grasp.

Catching the handle in her good hand, she ignored the sparks the unholy weapon threw out against her skin.  Turning back for the last demon, she sent the business end of the whip flying after him.   He smoked out and vanished into the building.  The whiplash took several bricks out of the wall as it pursued him.

Gritting her teeth, she shot into the building after him.  Taking solid form, she was immediately set upon by the brute.  Now that he was inside the hospital, she was able to appreciate his sheer mass.  His solid state looked like an eight-foot gorilla with a scorpion tail.  He tried to sting her repeatedly but she managed to keep her wings in the way so he hit nothing but bones, feathers and membranes.  It hurt, but the poison would dissipate from her gray pinions and leave her with nothing more than a headache and some fatigue.  

Her right hand was starting to tingle as movement came back, but not fast enough for this fight.  The demon had one hand around her neck and the other around her thigh.  He was attempting to rip her in half.  With a tremendous effort, she punched his arm above the elbow and heard a satisfying crack.  Unfortunately he didn’t let go, he just growled and tried to sting her again as he grabbed her left arm with his right leg.  

The angel started to feel the weight of the fight and for the first time wondered if she was going to fail in her duty.  She blocked several more sting attempts as her muscles strained against his efforts to pull her apart.  

Her resolve wavered and she despaired of winning this struggle.  Her wings grew slower and weaker and as if in slow motion she watched the demon’s deadly sting come for her left eye, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop it and this would be the end of her time here.

The sting stopped an inch from her eye.  She saw a large hand wrapped around the demon’s tail.  The hand was attached to Genesis, one of the giants of heaven and her direct superior.  Hope flared again in her chest as she watched Genesis squeeze the tail so hard that the stinger fell uselessly to the floor.  The demon shrieked in pain and released her.  As she fell to the ground Genesis grabbed the demon by the neck and pulled it up close to his face, ignoring the blows it desperately rained on his head.

“You have no right to be here.”  With that, he squeezed and the demon shrieked as its head lost touch with its body.  The shriek rang the angel’s head like a bell and took out the power in the entire wing of the hospital.  Genesis wiped the ash from his hands and turned to help her to her feet.

“I really don’t like to fight, Aria Gund.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”  The cherubim, Aria Gund, guardian of the Rose of Sharon hospital felt ashamed that she had to be rescued, but grateful Genesis was there to do it.

“Someone is on his way here.  He’s been poisoned and needs your immediate attention.  After you see to him, get some rest.  Now, I have a child to greet downstairs and you have a Singer to heal.”  

* * *

As they drove into Albuquerque on the I40, Cadence pulled off onto exit 164.

"This isn't the way to our delivery point, do you have something else in mind?"  Lyric asked, concern tinting his voice as he noted how exhausted she looked.  Wearily she nodded, turning right onto Wyoming Blvd.

A few minutes down the road and Cadence pulled into the parking lot for an ER.

"We don't have time for this right now.  The lettuce is blender and Mr. Lomong ate the canoe."  Lyric started laughing like a fool, then stopped and looked again at the ER.  What did he say?  Shaking his head, he tried again.  "The magic in the wound is the priority, I can get stitched up later."

Cadence pointed at his shirt, he looked down to see a great deal of fresh blood.  Pulling the t-shirt away from the wound, he saw it was a sickly gray color and beginning to smell bad.

"Looks like it's infected by more than magic, eh?  I'm going to need some duck billed chopstick, can you syrup chair cozy?"  The world swam in a circle.  Lyric tried to make sense through the haze clouding his thoughts.  He lifted a hand and touched Cadence's face.  "You really are very pretty.  I like that you can't talk, it makes you mysterious, but in a good way.  All the rest of my bananas these days simmer, it's nice to have a lovely wagon that greens me."

Cadence gently pulled Lyric's hand away from her face and set it on his leg.  Pulling into the emergency lot, she parked the car and came around to help Lyric get out.  The Singer was unsteady on his feet and found he was leaning on Cadence more than he expected.

She got him through the door and immediately a gray haired nurse met them with a wheelchair and took Lyric past triage straight to an empty bed.