Reaper: The Demontouched Saga (Book 3) (7 page)

“I have more bad news,” I say. “They have another orb.”

“Like the shattered one you gave us?”

“The same. We saw them killing survivors on the streets downtown and using the orbs to draw the souls inside. They did the same thing to Zeke.”

“Then we need to figure out why they need the souls.”

I nod. When I saw Duncan with the first orb, I thought that it was just a way to keep demon souls from going to purgatory when they died. When the soul of whatever demon Duncan had inside of him ended up with the orb, I had no doubts.

But, when I start to think things over, they had a lot of people locked up in the warehouse. There were even more downtown for the attacks. Whatever they are planning, they need loads of them. I only hope that we can figure it out before it is too late.

“You look familiar,” Nal says as he walks up from the street. “But you looked… older.”

My jaw nearly drops to the ground when Uriel starts to grow. She doesn’t stop at an extra foot or two, instead topping out a few inches taller than Sara. Within moments her childish features are completely gone, replaced with a more height-appropriate look.

One that is going to get me put in the dog house if I don’t stop staring.

“I take whatever form that gets the results I need,” she says. “You should see me when I’m older.” Uriel winks.

I let out a short laugh. It doesn’t make me feel better about Zeke, but it’s a start.

“Well, our next move should be figuring out what they need with the souls.” I say. “It’s a damn shame someone had me blow up the hotel.”

Nal laughs. “I didn’t know you wanted to go back in. I would have waited.”

“Waited to call the bomb until I went in.”

He smiles, “Only if I knew they were torturing you.”

“I’m sure that was coming.”

Nal lights up another cigarette. It is the way he calms his nerves. He is the type of guy that can smoke four packs in a day and then not touch another one for a year. “I’m not sure about the souls, but I do know who to ask.”

I give him a sideways look. “Who?”

“Back at the hotel, they didn’t always keep me tied up in that room. In fact, I was only in there a day or so before they threw you in there with me,” he says. “The first few days they just kept me locked up in my office. They took away all of my toys and posted a few guards in with me. Unless you knew me very well, you wouldn’t have known the difference.” He flicks his cigarette and lights another. “The whole time, they were answering to someone named Belial.”

Uriel’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of the name. “Belial is here?” she says.

“That’s what I heard, though I can’t say that I met him,” he says. “The only person I ever saw them talking to was Rick.”

“That’s our man,” I say.

“How do you know?” Uriel asks.

“He’s the one who killed Zeke,” I say. My hunch may not be right, but I’d be shocked if I’m off. Knowing he survived the hotel attack was enough to set off my spider senses. Watching him stick the angel blade into Zeke made them explode. Rick could have been an ass, but he didn’t usually go out of his way to provoke someone. So either Belial is a recent tenant, or he is the world’s best spy.

“The only problem with that,” Nal says. “He was in the hotel when we blew it.”

“If Rick is actually Belial, he is still alive. There is only three things that can put down a demon for good; an angel blade, a smite from an angel, or weapons that were specifically crafted to do so.” I pull out my knife to show it to Nal.

He examines the blade for a minute before handing it back to me. “I always thought you found it at Cabela’s or something.”

“We just need to find his new hideout,” I say. That is easier said than done. Most demons like to latch onto a place to milk it for everything it has. The hotel was the type of place they are willing to start wars over. With it gone, he could be anywhere. Unless he did something big, we might not know for a while.

“I know where we can start,” he says. “There is a restaurant on the south side of the city called The Moonlight. The guys spent about as much time there as they did working for me. If I had a horse in the race, and I do, that would be my first stop.”

“Take a night and get some rest,” Uriel says. “You two have had a rough last few days. Go upstairs and get cleaned up. Sara and I will start working on dinner.”

I look at Nal who shrugs his shoulders back at me. Sara gives me a kiss and pushes me through the door.

Who am I to tell an angel no?

- 10 -

We pull up to The Moonlight around nine o’clock. I want to avoid destroying a restaurant full of people if Rick is actually here. It may still piss off the workers, but the place will probably be dead this late at night.

When I step out of the car, I have to adjust my jacket and redo the buttons. I almost feel naked without my cassock and priest suit here. It has become such an important part of who I am, that Nal thought it would be better if I didn’t wear it tonight. He is right. Rick has only ever seen me wearing it, it may keep us incognito for a while longer.

Nal, on the other hand, has a nice beard going on from being held for a while. He told me they didn’t even want him touching a disposable razor while they were there. Something about them being worried about him using it as a weapon, which I can see.

Unless you knew him, Nal is the type of guy that would go under most people’s radar. While he ended up taking over his father’s crime ring, it was not his preferred line of work. He told me once, that if it wasn’t for the Rising he would have probably opened up a computer repair shop. Not exactly the career path I could see him following, but it fits.

I open the door for Sara, who rewards my chivalry with a slap on the ass. Nal just laughs as he walks inside.

I really didn’t want to have Sara around for this, but she said that I needed to take her our for our anniversary. I’m not the type that remembers the exact day when I start to date a person, so you can imagine my surprise when she recited it all, to the hour.

I’m not any better with birthdays.

“Dinner for three?” the hostess says. She is a nice looking woman if a bit thick. If her attitude is as inviting as her smile, I understand why they keep her here.

I nod my head. Unless Nal has a fling I don’t know about.

“Will you need a…”

Nal pulls out a cigarette. “Yes,” he says. Something tells me I need to have a chat with him before too long. It isn’t like him to still be chain smoking after a day.

The hostess takes us to a booth in the back corner of the restaurant. There are only a handful of tables free in the place, all of them near ours.

I scan the place a few times while Sara is taking the inside seat. When you find yourself in hostile territory, the first thing you need to find is an escape route. The front door is way to far for us to get to if shit goes down, but the emergency fire exit about twenty feet away will work perfect. We will have to keep an eye out on the door to the kitchen, which is another ten feet past that too.

The waiter comes to our table and we place our order. Nal went for a lobster tail with a salad. He has always been a fan of seafood. He had one of the walk-in freezers at the hotel stocked with it.

Sara gets some chicken dish they had as a special. I didn’t really catch what the man said after the word broccoli. After the last few days I don’t want anything remotely healthy.

That’s why I ordered the thirty-six ounce porterhouse with a nice buttery baked potato. I can feel my arteries clogging just from placing the order. Hopefully I can keep from drooling all over the table until it gets here.

To wash it all down we bought a bottle of red wine. Nal, being the wine aficionado, ordered it for the table. He generally has good taste in his liquor, so it’s probably going to be great.

“What’s your plan?” Nal takes a sip of his wine.

“The only plan I have is to eat dinner and scope the place out. If we see Rick, we can figure it out then.”

“I figured you were the meticulous planning type. I would have picked out a different wine if I knew you didn’t have pages of notes hidden in your pockets.” He laughs. It doesn’t take long before we join in. It feels good to laugh even if it’s at my expense.

We talk about the place. The layout is cozy and inviting, definitely not the feel you expect when you see the outside. While it doesn’t scream ‘fine dining,’ it’s as refined as it can be without becoming stuffy. This is the type of place I wouldn’t mind coming back to.

Saying it’s still here after tonight.

“I’m going to hit the john,” I say. “See if he is on the other side.”

If I have one complaint about the place, it’s that I have to walk all the way across the restaurant to go to the bathroom. It probably has something to do with not wanting to force the non-smokers to walk though the smoking section to go. I understand the reasoning, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

As I walk across the floor, I feel like I’m being watched. It could be that I’m a new face, but that doesn’t stop me from making sure I put on the right pants.

Looking around the restaurant, I’m not seeing anyone even paying attention to my stroll, let alone staring at me. I also don’t see Rick. Maybe he found a new place to play, instead.

A few minutes later and I’m nearly back to my table. I notice Sara and Nal laughing hard about something. No doubt they are sharing war stories about the guy that left.

“Oh, Mitch!” Sara says. “Nal was just telling me about his yacht.”

“I didn’t know you had a yacht, Nal. Where do you keep it?” I ask.

“In the Gulf, somewhere off the coast of Alabama.” They both laugh. I can’t help feeling like I’ve been left out of a joke. Before I ask him to share the story, our waiter comes up with our food.

“If there is anything else you need, please ask,” he says, putting the tray under his arm.

“The food is fine, thanks,” I say. “Just saving you a trip later.” I doubt this guy was going to do it, but that came out of habit. If there is one thing I hate about most waiters is that they love to come back while you are chewing your dish and then ask how it tastes. They never do it when you are at a point to answer them, so you have to hurry up and choke down the food to tell them.

Or you could do what I usually did and just ignore them. Eventually they get the point and walk away.

“Find anything on your stroll?” Nal asks.

“Nothing weird. If he is still here, he is hiding in the back.” I say. “Unless this place has a bar.” I know it doesn’t because that was the first thing I looked for when we walked inside.

We spend the rest of the meal in relative silence. And by relative silence I mean we get on like a group of kids who haven’t seen each other in months. I’m glad they gave us this table in the back because the ones that can hear us are giving us dirty looks. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. With the amount of money Nal is getting ready to pay, we should be able to throw our own private party in this place.

By eleven, the bottle of wine is finally gone. We think about getting another, but I feel like they are ready to close the place up.

I stand up and put my jacket back on before helping Sara with hers. Even though we didn’t find what we are looking for, we had a nice night out which was probably more important. A body like mine may be wired to go forever, but it still needs time to just recoup.

We are about to walk out when four men, all wearing nice blue suits complete with white handkerchiefs and matching lapel flowers walk up to our table. If that wasn’t odd enough, telling them apart will be impossible. Identical twins are rare enough, but identical quadruplets?

“The manager would like to see you before you leave,” the tall one with brown hair and eyes says.

“We paid our bill. There isn’t anything to discuss,” I say. I look around the room and notice every patron has their eyes on us. From the old couple three tables over all the way to the hostess that directed us to our seats earlier.

“It wasn’t a request.”

The men grab us by the shoulders and usher us towards the kitchen. Three guys dart out and stand in front of the fire escape.

It’s like the bastards set this up from the beginning.

It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice in the matter. It’s time to see what this dickhead wants.

- 11 -

Tweedle Dum and his merry little band lead us back towards the back of the restaurant, again. If I had to guess, they are taking us to the kitchen entrance. Probably hoping that it doesn’t draw too much attention. It’s a damn shame they didn’t catch us before we got to the front door. I’m not in the mood for a walk.

I glance over at Nal, who happens to be looking my way as if he is waiting on a signal. I give him a small nod, hoping the Dum Clan doesn’t notice.

“I wouldn’t try that,” Tweedle Dum says without looking back.

Either this guy has a set of eyes in the back of his head, or these guys can communicate without speaking. Either option wouldn’t surprise me. You never know what skills a demon has until they show you. By then, it is usually too late. I would almost kill to have either one of those though.

We walk through the back door and into the kitchen. Whoever owns this place has spared no expense.

That or Gordon Ramsey came in during a makeover and pimped the place out. I doubt that was the case though. The steak I ate was way too good to be one of his reclamation projects.

The cook turning around to greet us has me doing a double take. Unless I’m mistaken, our escort has a fifth brother who is a chef. If he was wearing a blue suit like the others, you would never know the difference.

As if on cue, the dishwasher walks around the corner to join the clone party in his soiled apron. I scratch my head and look over at Nal. I’m starting to wonder how many clones this guy really has.