Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (9 page)

I looked around and nodded. “Okay. You’re right.” I approached the cop’s spirit. “Hey, you’re Officer Singh, right?” I said.

He looked at me and frowned. “What?” he said.

“I’m Niki.” I sat down on the road next to him.

“So?”

“So, how you doing?”

“How does it look like I’m doing?” he said. “I’m dead.”

“I know. I’m sorry. “

“Why can you see me?”

“I’m weird that way,” I said.

“Can you see all of us, or just me?” he said, gesturing to the other two ghosts wandering nearby.

“Every last one,” I said, looking out at all the wanderers on the scene. It was strange there were so many. It seemed there were so many dead wandering around lately. But maybe my ability was just growing stronger.

“So what now?” he said. “I’m going to Hell, right?”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “Usually when people can finally let go, they get sort of swirly. They just kind of blow away into the wind.”

“That’s it?” he said.

“Sure,” I said. “Disappointed?”

“Kind of. I thought there’d be a bright light or something.”

“There might be,” I said. “I’ve never been on the other end of it.”

“Why hasn’t that happened to me?” he said.

“You haven’t let go yet.”

He shrugged. “How can I? I don’t know what happened. One minute I’m processing the scene where some guy killed his family, and the next I’m standing here with an empty gun and some lady in a blue dress blasts me with a shotgun.”

“Blue dress?” I said.

“Yeah. She looked like a librarian or accountant or something. Listen, lady—”

“Niki,” I said.

“Yeah, Niki,” he repeated. “Did I do this?”

“Technically yes, but it’s not your fault. Where did the lady go after she shot you?”

“I don’t know, I was sort of preoccupied,” he said irritably. “What do you mean it wasn’t my fault? I really did this?”

I got up. “I’m really sorry,” I said. “But I have to go. Long story short, something called a Dark got out of Hell and popped into your body. It’s the one that killed these people, not you.”

“So I am going to Hell.”

“I have no idea,” I said. “But I’m guessing not for this. Tell them I said you were innocent.”

“You? Why would they listen to you?”

“Because they pay my bills,” I said. “I’m really sorry, Officer. I have to catch this thing. Just focus on forgiving yourself, and you’ll figure it out. Good luck.”

I left him looking baffled, but I had to stick to my rule. Living trump the dead.

“Gage,” I said. “Find out where the woman in the blue dress went. She’s the one that shot the cop.”

I saw Eli and ran over to him, nearly tripping over a body. “Careful,” he said. “This is a crime scene, Slobodian.”

“Sorry,” I said. “Do you know where the woman in the blue dress went?” I said. “The one with the shotgun?”

He nodded towards the cruiser where I saw the cop’s ghost stand up. “That way,” he said. “Hopped into someone else’s car and took off. We’re looking for her, but she’s sort of in the wind right now. Why? Someone say something? I didn’t know you’d talked to anyone yet.”

“Yeah, you know how I got arrested for talking to dead people?”

“Oh,” he said. “Right.” He seemed to think about it for a second. “Weird,” he said finally.

“Whatever,” I said. “So no one knows where she went?”

“No, but the car is kind of noticeable,” he said. “Older VW Beetle, bright yellow. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“My guess is she’s not trying very hard to stay hidden,” I said. “Official business. I’m going to need your car, Eli.”

He paused, staring hard at me, before he tossed me the keys. “Don’t make me regret this,” he said.

As we started down the Expressway, the sunset was already fading and I was sure we would lose her.

“How’d you know it was the Dark?” said Gage. “Could just be a victim fighting back.”

“Something Sofi said in the hospital,” I said. “She had a vision.”

“Psychic, huh? Handy gal to have around.”

“She said there were two black lions fighting or something. And a woman in a blue dress with a shotgun.”

“Seems pretty accurate. But what about the lions?”

“I think it might be a sign,” I said. “You know, like a crest or those lawyer signs sometimes have animals on them.”

“Or a financial institution,” said Gage, as he looked out his window.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“No, sis,” he said, pointing to a building on the other side of the exit. “That financial institution.” It was one of those tall, hastily-made skyscraper wannabes. It wasn’t quite impressively tall and it was an ugly gray that seemed more of an eyesore than prestigious. But there was a big sign fixed to the side of it. It read
H & H Financial,
and there was a graphic image of a lion on either side of the letters, each on its haunches, claws in the air.

“Hold on,” I said.

I put the police light on the dash, flicked on the siren, and wrenched the wheel. As I slammed on the brakes, the tires squealed, and then thunked as I drove over the cement curb that divided the exit from the Expressway. We lurched down the ramp, the other cars pulling over, more to avoid getting hit than out of respect for the law. After a series of shortcuts through parking lots and over medians, keeping the office building in view at all times, I had us at the glass front entrance. I saw the Bug parked haphazardly, halfway between the curb and the middle of the road. I pulled up onto the sidewalk, hearing metal scrape against concrete. “Sorry, Eli,” I said.

“Niki,” Gage said, as we got out of the car. “The Dark is in there right now. We’re going to have to take it down, and we have no idea what we’re doing.”

“I have my best ideas when I’m in a tight spot,” I said, pulling out my Makarov. “Besides, you said you couldn’t tell what spell to use until you knew what you were dealing with. Well, I think you’re going to know in a minute.” I double-checked the Makarov to make sure it was loaded. The clip made a satisfying click.

“Wait, you can’t shoot her,” Gage said, pulling out his book. “She’s innocent. ‘Sides, maybe the Dark would just find another body. Maybe yours.”

“If it’s a choice, though,” I said, “between her and you or me, I’ll choose one of us. Living trump the dead, Gage.”

“What does that mean?” We were easing toward the lobby entrance.

“It means self-preservation,” I said. There was a sudden shattering of glass and something hurled out of the windows high above us and away from the building. It thudded into the street with a sickening crack. I looked over and saw a heap of blue under the streetlight. “There’s our innocent,” I said. We looked up at a sound between screaming and laughing. It was distinctly male.

I looked back at the street. Even at a distance I could tell the woman was dead. Her head was turned at an unnatural angle, as was almost every other part of her.

“Jesus,” said Gage, keeping his eyes away from the woman. He looked up at the window she had come out of where we could still hear the laughter receding somewhere in the building. “Kind of makes our jobs a little easier, don’t it?” said Gage. “If it wasn’t for that laugh we wouldn’t have found it. Kind of memorable. Like following the Joker around.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of convenient, isn’t it?” I said. “Think it’s a trick?”

“I don’t think a thing like that could plan anything,” said Gage. “Far as I can tell, it’s just blindly killing the first things it sees.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but why here? It could have gone postal at the scene, but it stopped, got into a car and drove here. Why?”

“Maybe it didn’t want to get caught,” said Gage.

“By who? It just jumps from body to body, right?”

“I don’t know, Niki,” said Gage. “I’ve been going over it in my head, and there ain’t nothing in common in all these murders. The first one it made a guy kill his family, let him go and ran away. Then it killed a bunch of people on a highway and drove away. Now it’s in an office building.”

“Maybe it was on its way here the whole time,” I said.

“Kind of grasping at straws, ain’t you?” He was about to say something else, but stopped and shook his head.

“What is it?” I said.

“It’s just that, what if it feels what its host is feeling? You know, like sadness, grief, what have you? The Dark seems to possess all the skills of the host, driving and running and such. Why wouldn’t it also take on the host’s emotions?”

“It’s moving so it doesn’t have to feel? I don’t understand.”

“When someone you love is murdered, it ain’t a pretty thing. You want to scream and cry and claw your own eyes out at the same time. So, even if they’re not awake, on some level they have to know what’s happening. Some part of them knows that it’s their body that’s causing all this, right?”

“Maybe,” I said.

“Well, maybe the Dark can feel it. The first scene was personal, right? A family, children. And the host lived. Why didn’t the Dark kill Gary Chenowith?”

“Maybe it was still getting its footing,” I said.

“Or maybe,” said Gage, “the Dark was so affected by Gary’s emotions that it vamoosed as soon as it could.”

“The crime scenes did become less and less personal,” I said. “First a home, then a random stretch of highway, and now a corporate office building.”

“Yeah,” said Gage. “‘Spose the Dark follows its need to kill, but couldn’t stand the feelings it elicited when it got personal. So it quickly kills the host so it’s not there to remind. You know, feelings and shit.”

“Damn, Gage,” I said. “You’re starting to sound like a shrink.”

“I was five credits short of a Psych degree before the War.”

“No shit?” I said.

A shotgun fired high above us in the building. “Time to go,” I said. “Ready?”

“Hang on,” he said, reaching into one of his bulging pockets and pulling out a large freezer bag full of something. “Take this. It might help.”

“What is it?” I said, taking the bag.

“It’s salt,” he said. “Works wonders on demons, not sure why. Might work on all Hellions. In any case, it’s a better solution than bullets.”

“I’ll take your counsel under advisement,” I said. “Got anything else that might work on demons?”

“Nah. The religious stuff only works if you’re a true believer. They’re pretty terrified of Lucifer, but unless you have something personal from the guy, they probably won’t believe you.”

“Lucifer’s real?” I said.

“Trust me,” he said. “I’ve dealt with some bad Hellions before, none this bad, but pretty depraved. Salt is their Kryptonite. Dunno why, it just is. They hate the stuff. Works better than any spell or curse or anything.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” I said. “Good luck in there.”

“Luck’s for assholes,” he said, propping the book open on his arm as we headed for the door. “I got talent.”

It could have been a whole lot worse. It was pretty bad, as it was. The lobby was strewn with the bodies: a maintenance worker, three security guards, two men and a woman in suits. Their spirits looked around in horror, unable to accept the tragedy of what had happened to them. It must have just happened. I knelt down and felt the body of the maintenance worker. It was warm.

The exuberance of the first killing was gone. There was no sprays of blood across the wall, or any evidence that the Dark had even touched the bodies after it killed them. Just a bunch of corpses littered with holes. I heard a woman’s spirit whisper a word over and over again. As we passed close to her, I realized the word was
Why?
I had no answer for her.

The elevator told me what I needed to know. The digital number above the doors read “29” and the button for the 29
^th
floor inside had a big bloody fingerprint on it, still sticky. I pushed the number on the panel on the other side so I wouldn’t have to touch it. Gage wasn’t even aware of his surroundings. He’d been flipping pages in his Grimoire and muttering to himself since we came in. I should have had him do that at the first scene. At least he wouldn’t throw up all over everything. He finally looked up at me as we were ascending. There was an uncharacteristic brightness to his eyes. Something was lit up inside him. He smiled, which I’d never seen him do, and nodded.

“I got it, Nik,” he said. “I got it. I think I understand how to do this. The words, they’re all coming to me. It’s like they’ve been waiting for me. I can do this, sis.”

“Let’s hope we can both do this,” I said.

The doors opened onto a dull-blue carpeted hallway. It was so quiet here that the air felt thick. I stepped out of the elevator, Gage right behind me. I checked the stairs to my right. Nothing.

“So the salt,” I breathed. “You think it’ll stop it?” I said.

“Worth a shot,” Gage whispered.

I took the baggie out of the inside pocket of my jacket. I made of line of the stuff across the hall just in front of the alcove leading to the elevator and the stairs. If the salt really was effective on this thing, it wouldn’t be able to get off the floor. Unless of course it threw itself out of a window, which I was somehow pretty sure it would do in a heartbeat. Worth a try, though.