Demon Squad 6 The Best of Enemies (9 page)

I gave Shaw a smarmy wink, the kind inebriated old men give waitresses when the alcohol has turned back the clock a good fifty years, and raised my
bat
for a home run hit. Rahim grabbed my shoulder and pulled me aside.

“Damn it,” he growled, the deep resonance of his Care Bear form colliding with his humanity.

His magic rippled across my senses, and I saw it spread from his outstretched fingertips to the building nearest us. Brilliant cords of energy wrapped about the base of the building.

“What are you—” And then it hit me, my gaze jumping to the roof. There were none of Shaw’s troops atop it, which was a good thing. Rahim was bringing it down. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because your dick’s not out to think for you,” Katon snapped as he sidled alongside Scarlett, who was finally starting to recover.

Before I could reply, Rahim doubled his effort, the scythes of his magic cleaving through the building and sheering the supports. It wavered and started to fall, the wizard tugging it in the direction he wanted it to go. The DSI folks saw it coming and ducked down, covering their heads, but the creatures didn’t seem to notice. At least not until the full weight of a four story brick building toppled down over their squishy heads.

There was a moist
splash
as the monsters were crushed beneath, the air filling with the horrid scent of a tuna-fish ass sandwich left out on a hot summer day. Voices rose up in complaint, hacking coughs competing with the racket of the settling demolition. There was no mistaking that the things were dead. That, however, didn’t end the hostilities.

Katon shoved me from behind.

“What the hell is your problem, Frank?”

I staggered off with a sigh, catching my balance. My magic tingled in my veins as I straightened to face him. I’d expected a minute or two more of peace before we got back to it, but it was clear Katon was still spoiling for a fight. A sharp bolt of pain rippled through my skull, and my cheeks warmed at the thought. If that’s what he wanted, I’d give it to him…in spades. I grinned and took a step forward.

“Stay where you are, demon!” Rebecca Shaw’s voice cut through my ears like a chainsaw. The clack of rifles and twitchy men reinforced her order.

I glanced over my shoulder to see the DSI headmistress standing atop the wreckage. Her ghostly pale skin seemed to glow, the brilliant purple of her eyes standing out in the gloom despite their narrowed lines. Jorn stood at her side—an ugly lost puppy—and the remnants of her men pointing machine guns at us. There couldn’t have been but twenty or thirty of them.

“You really want to do this now?” I asked.

Rahim answered for her, “No she doesn’t.” He stepped forward and yanked Katon back by the sleeve of his leather jacket. The enforcer resisted for about a heartbeat before giving in. He sneered at me while he went back to stand beside Scarlett.

“This isn’t about you, wizard; at least not yet.” Shaw stood her ground, puffing her chest out. “Triggaltheron is a wanted fugitive. Turn him over to us and we’ll walk away…this time.”

Rahim shook his head. “No.”

“Seriously, guys? I’m right
here
, in case you haven’t noticed,” I told them, sick of listening to them argue about me as though I was the dinner check on a liberal first date. “And if either one of you thinks you’re taking me anywhere, you’d better hope your funeral plots are paid up.”

Fairly certain Shaw and her flunkies were the more gung ho of the two factions I decided a lesson was in store. With the wisp of a thought, I willed my magic to do my bidding. Targeted beams of energy burst from my fingers, enveloping the guns of all of Shaw’s men. Before they could react, the metal slagged, deforming the barrels as though they were melted candles. The soldiers shouted but lucky for them none tried to squeeze off a shot. I just smiled as they looked at their guns and the threat sank in.

“Now run along, sweetheart, before you really piss me off.”

Shaw stood stoic for a short moment—her men already backing down the far side of the wreckage—before she caved. “We’re not done, Triggaltheron.”

I hadn’t suspected we were. Not even giving her the satisfaction of a wave, I turned my back and met Rahim’s dark eyes. Shaw’s presence faded as she and her minions retreated.

“And you, Rahim? What is it
you
want from me?” I asked

“Only to find out what’s happened to you,” he answered, Barry White in full effect.

“I found Jesus.”

“Damn it, Frank,” Scarlett shouted. “Be serious for once.”

“That’s the sad part, cousin, I am.” A crooked grin darkened my lips. “He’s a bit of a dick, but maybe that’s because I happen to be Lucifer’s son.” I shrugged. “Who knows? It could go either way.”

Scarlett swallowed hard. I could see the doubt and confusion in her green eyes. She didn’t know whether to believe me or punch the crap out of me for being a blasphemer.

“Turns out, all this,” I gestured to world around us, “doesn’t mean so much as a pile o’ dog shit to the Almighty. He’s got bigger plans, and they don’t hinge on our happiness or wellbeing. In fact, not once while He and I chatted did He ask about you…or you, or you, for that matter.” I pointed to each at turn, starting with Scarlett and working my way around to Katon.

“What does all that have to do with this?” Rahim asked, motioning to the wreckage in the middle of the street.

“Nothing,” I answered, pausing as I glanced inside the ruin of Baalth’s hideout to see the portal had finally closed. “Maybe everything. Fuck if I know.” A ragged chuckle slipped loose, and it didn’t even sound like my voice. “All I know is that we each need to find our own way now. No matter what we want to believe,” I glanced up at the sky, “He ain’t coming back. Our little blue-green planet is a backwater outpost, squirreled all the way in the rear of the multi-verse.” I looked to my cousin. “If you ever see your Lord again, you better run and hide because it won’t be salvation he’s toting around. He’ll be bringing the end of everything with Him.”

Scarlett gasped and Katon stepped between us. “Watch it, Frank.”

I shrugged at his posturing. “If you’re gonna bite, get to it, Katon, because I’m getting awful tired of your bark.”

The enforcer inched into my face, our noses touching. His eyes narrowed. Shadows wavered behind him.

“What did I miss?” Veronica’s question cut through the tension, the sound of her voice loud in the overwhelming tension.

Scarlett pulled Katon back with a hiss, as if realizing how close we’d come to blows. Rahim closed in, shifting in front of me but keeping a respectful distance. He stared at me, but there wasn’t hostility in his eyes. I couldn’t read his stony expression, but I’d known him long enough to realize he was processing some pretty heavy shit inside his skull. Whatever he was thinking about had to do with me, but right then, I didn’t have any fucks to give.

“What did you find?” I asked, turning to Veronica.

Her eyes skipped over our current company before circling back to me. She blinked but didn’t say anything.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, my headache rising in tempo once more, vision wavering behind the pressure. “Just tell me, damn it. Don’t worry about them.”

“Whatever.” Veronica let out a quiet sigh and shook her head. “It seems your temper tantrum got the attention of our little home invader. He goes by Hobbs.” She shrugged.

Though he stared at me the entire time, Rahim’s ears twitched at hearing what she said.

“Stop dancing around it and tell me what you found.” At least I had a name.

Veronica rolled her eyes, but she went on, “While I still don’t know anything about the guy, he wants to meet.”

“Wait?” Scarlett asked, looking back and forth between me and Veronica. “Who the heck is Hobbs?”

I ignored her. “Where?”

“Seriously, Frank?” Veronica turned and glared at the others. “You want to do this?”

I could feel my cheeks burning, and my hands clenched into fists of their own accord. She looked at me and must have realized I was about to blow.

“All right, all right, geez,” she said, posting her hands on her hips. “At Rest Land Cemetery, 3 a.m.”

Scarlett made a face.

While I had to agree with the sentiment, not exactly having a stellar track record when it came to dealings in that particular cemetery, it was still home turf. I knew where all the bodies were buried. Literally.

“You know this is a trap, right?” Katon asked.

“Of course.”

“And yet you’re still going?”

I nodded.

“I’d always wondered if you were brain damaged, Frank. Thanks for finally clearing that up,” Scarlett said, throwing her hands in the air and wandering off to pace.

“We’ll be there, too,” Rahim told me, though to be honest, I really didn’t care.

“Are you serious?” Katon spun on him.

I heard the wizard mutter an affirmative, but I was already walking away. “You guys do what you want, but I’ve a dragon to chase.” I grabbed Veronica’s hand and headed off.

The Three Stooges argued until we were out of earshot.

Eight

While I didn’t give a damn if DRAC and Scarlett knew about the
meeting
, I hadn’t wanted them to know anything else. Particularly the location of the new safe house Veronica had scrounged while the squid brothers wrecked the old one. After she’d told me where it was, and I had a good laugh about it, I sent her back out on reconnaissance duty. There was no way in hell the meeting at the cemetery wasn’t a trap. And while I was happy to walk right into it, confident I could take on anyone who relied on mercenaries to hold his territory, I wanted to know who I was dealing with. Just his name wasn’t enough to clue me in. I’d never heard of him.

The big bad guy wouldn’t be at the meeting, of course, but that’s pretty much what I was counting on. If he was remotely smart, he’d watch from a distance and find out what he could about me. That suited my purpose almost as much as his showing up did. Either way, once he saw me in action, he’d slip his tail between his legs and run for someplace safe; like Afghanistan.

Whoever this Hobbs guy was, he was barking up the wrong tree and didn’t know it yet. He might well know my name, and possibly some history, but he had no clue as to who I was these days. I only needed to show up and impress upon him the stupidity of his course of action, and I could get back to the real work of figuring out what the hell Daddy Dearest found so fucking interesting in the book he’d mailed home. Not knowing was driving me nuts.

It was like waking up in the middle of a dream, the images and memories fading from mind before you can consciously recall them. There was something so familiar about the book, about the energies that came from the portal, something I’d only recently picked up on, that I couldn’t put it out of my mind. Lucifer had hidden the fact that I was his son from me—from everyone—my entire life. What else was he hiding? What was on the other side of this portal the book summoned?

I drew in a deep breath to sort my head. It didn’t matter how much I wondered and whined, I wasn’t gonna figure anything out without the book or my little alien buddy. I needed to find Rala.

Now that I’d put some distance between myself and the other supernaturals in the area who might muddle my attempts, I let my senses drift. Careful not to let them slip the leash, I focused in on my own essence, the tiny piece of me that I’d installed in Rala. Street by street I expanded my circle of energy as though it was sonar seeking a reflection. Soon enough I caught a
ping
.
Hearing
it brought a smile to my lips. Rala had done exactly as I’d asked her—which was wholly unexpected—and had stayed close. She wasn’t more than a handful of city blocks from where we’d been attacked.

A few minutes later, I found her curled up inside a dumpster, the lid cleverly locked down from inside with bits of stringy refuse. I lifted the lid as far as it would go without breaking anything, which was about an inch, and called inside.

“Peekaboo.”

There was a sharp screech followed by a burst of trash and a sullen thump.

“
Oooooowwwwwww,
” Chatterbox’s pitiful moan rose from the trash can.

“You’re plain mean, you know that?” Rala told me as she scrambled to find where CB had been tossed. She dug in the trash while I watched through the crack of the lid, knowing I shouldn’t find it quite so amusing. I popped the lid and helped her out once she’d rounded up the head.

“You smell…safe.”

Rala muttered something under her breath before glaring up at me. “Can we go?”

I nodded and led her off, sticking to the alleys as much as possible. For once, Chatterbox kept quiet as we made our way down the quiet Old Town streets, nothing but the distant highway noises droning on well behind us. The place had become a ghost town damn near overnight. It would seem I wasn’t winning the hearts and minds of the populace by instigating gun fights and drawing monsters down on the city.

We dodged a few pockets of activity on our way, mostly homeless folks who had no choice but to be out and about, and made good time to the new hideout. A grin exploded across my lips when I saw the place.

Gailbraith Manor, or the looney bin for those less inclined toward political correctness. Its former patients called it the Gray Hell, if that gives you any idea as to reputation and the quality of its décor. It hadn’t changed a bit.

Six stories tall and painted in a single swath from foundation to roof in institutional gray, the building stood out from its crumbling neighbors. Tiny windows, little more than the size of a mail-slot, peered from the sides like murder-holes. A ten-foot stone wall surrounded the small, barren yard but it had come down in several places. Jumbles of rock and crumbled mortar lay in dusty piles around the perimeter, some strewn into the road.

It had been a while since I’d last been there, the memories a bittersweet potion I was forced to swallow as we slipped through a hole in the outer wall. A strange sense of
déjà vu
fell over me as we approached the building. This had been where I’d come face to face with Karra and realized there was more to her than only an assassin bent on wreaking havoc in Baalth’s territory. She’d come to Old Town to resurrect her father, Longinus, the greatest Anti-Christ to ever wear the mantle.