Vessel: The Demontouched Saga (Book 4) (2 page)

“No,” she says. “Thank you.”

As much as I wouldn’t have believed it before, I’m cut out for this hero shit. I smile at the medic and sprint to the wall. Guess it’s time to save the day.

- 2 -

Between the gunshots I can make out movement on the other side of the wall. Right about now I wish the walls were shorter, but then I wouldn’t have been able to save anyone. I guess I can deal with something as trivial as this.

I take a deep breath, facing the wall to pull myself over the top. Sure, I could go out the front gate, but they are focusing their attention there now.

I take two steps back before jumping up the wall. I was never good at jumping high, thus never good at basketball. Well, that’s not entirely true. I was a good shooter, but they expected someone my size to cover the rim for rebounds and I was horrible at layups. And you can forget about dunking. That was out of my vocabulary. Even still, with the extra push from the wall, my fingers wrap around the brick on the top.

From there it was just a simple matter of a pull-up. Another thing I’m horrible at, but manage thanks to the uneven brick wall. If it had to be tall, I’m glad it helps with the footholds.

I crouch down behind a bush once I drop safely to the other side. From here I have a clear view of the three men behind the SUVs. One is a man in a blue tee-shirt and blue jeans with a white baseball cap on backwards talking to another man wearing a red shirt. The third man, he must be the boss because he has his cell phone planted to his ear. Only the boss can get away with stupid shit like that.

Guess it’s time to pay them a little visit.

I work my way to the SUVs, keeping low to the ground. I may be able to take them all out from here, but I’d rather get close to spy on them a moment. See if I can figure out why they are here though I’m sure they are here for my new orb.

They’ll have to earn this one back though. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave it sitting around.

I stop off behind a large tree probably five yards from the men. Even this close I’m having troubles hearing their conversation thanks to the gunfire even though it has calmed down in the last few minutes.

Oh well. I guess I’ll just do this the old fashioned way.

I poke my head around the corner, sending my knife careening into the man in the red shirt’s neck. The other men jump back at the sight of their companion hitting the floor. He shakes on the ground for a few seconds before coming to a stop, the smoky black tendrils of his soul floating past me and into my pack.

This orb has much better range, I see.

“Not expecting me?” I say, pulling the blade back to my hand. “Because you are in the wrong damn place not to.”

The man in blue reaches down to his waist, probably to pull out a gun. I decide not to give him time to show me what he is hiding and send the knife into the man’s hand.

From the screams of the man, I can tell he is a demon… or a chump, because a normal blade doesn’t feel that bad.

“He’s here,” the man on the phone says before dropping it to the ground.

“At least one of you was, I see.” I move my hand to the left, twisting the blade in his friend’s hand. “You just weren’t smart about it.”

“Smarter than you’ll know,” the boss says, a smile forming on his lips.

On my legs it feels like something is crawling up my legs, I glance down to see vines slowly creeping up my body. One of these days, demonic powers may fail to shock me. Today, however, won’t be the first of those.

“Wasn’t expecting that, were you Demontouched?”

“I prefer reaper,” I say, pulling the blade from Blue’s hands and pushing it towards the boss. Blood squirts from his hand as the blade cuts through his fingers, foiling his attempt to stop the blade. He screams in agony when the blade pushes into his rib cage.

I smile at my effort. It’s not every day you truly get to get an eye for an eye.

Or a lung for a lung, in this case.

With his concentration shattered, the vines release their grip and fall to the ground lifelessly. Some demons can hold a spell like that, even through the amount of pain I’m inflicting. Typically, you find that in the more powerful demons, not the lower tier ones. Most of them, like Blue-boy here lose any inking of power the second they get poked by my blade. With that in mind, I know which one I’m going to question.

“Do you know what this is?” I say, pulling the angel blade from my hip.

The boss nods once before trying to pull the knife from his chest.

“Then you know it will not have a problem killing you,” I say, looking down at the boss. “Or you.” I swing the blade in an arc, slicing the throat of Blue. He reaches up to his throat in a feeble attempt to hold it together, but quickly drops to the ground once reality sets in.

Yeah, I need to question the boss.

“I guess you aren’t having a good day,” I say, cleaning the sword off on Blue’s shirt. “I know I wouldn’t be if I just had my ass handed to me either.” I put some of energy into the knife, twisting it just enough to spread his ribs a part a hair. “Who sent you?”

He coughs some more before spitting a wad of blood on my pants. I guess this guy wants to do this the hard way. With the tip of the sword downward, I thrust the blade into the top of his foot. But, I don’t stop there. I keep my pressure on the handle of the knife, forcing his body to stay upright.

That’s right, asshole. Two can play at this game.

“You going to tell me now, or do I have to stab the other one to?”

He speaks quickly in Demonic, a language I’ve never bothered to learn. For good reason. I may have made a bad deal, but that doesn’t mean I had to embrace it.

I shake my head, following it by twisting the angel blade still in his foot. “If you are gonna cuss me out, you can at least do it in English.”

Unperturbed by my threat, he continues to assault my eardrums with his babble.

“As you wish,” I say, pulling the sword out of that foot and slamming it through the other.

The scream he lets out has to be one of the worst I’ve ever heard. Easily beating the sounds Chef Tweedle made on the grill. Once he’s done, he pants a few times before renewing his chant.

“Are you really going to make me do it again?” I ask, slowly twisting the sword in his other foot.

Blood oozes out of the corner of his mouth as a smile touches his lips. “Time to die,” he says, laughing.

Before I can turn around, stars fill my vision thanks to being clubbed with the butt end of a rifle. “You aren’t the smartest people,” I say with a smile. I turn around, facing the new attacker. With my focus on his gun I force it up in the air out of the way.

I wince at a sharp pain in my shoulder. Apparently he got off a lucky shot because I can feel the warmth of my blood as it trickles down my chest.

“How does that feel, Demontouched?” the boss asks, laughing. “You can’t focus on both of us forever.”

“Don’t need to,” I say, twisting the gun back further with my power. The man holds the gun tightly to keep me from pulling it out of his hands. So tight, in fact, he yells out in pain when the bones in his wrists snap.

As you can imagine, he let go then.

I don’t let the man suffer long, pulling the trigger on the weapon before allowing it to drop to the floor. The body hits the ground first with an audible thump. Already on the ground, I place my hand on the man’s head, drawing his soul into my fingertips.

“How did you do that?” he says. “The reapers were supposed to leave the world.”

“And you play by the rules?” I say, standing up.

“It was part of the agreement,” he says, spitting blood on the ground.

“Then consider it broken,” I say. “Because I’m one of them.”

The boss cusses me out in English before switching back to his native Demonic, which I’m grateful for. There are only so many things I can do to my mother.

“You OK, sir,” I hear behind me.

“I’m fine,” I say, turning around to face the kid. “Is the medic safe?”

“She is fine,” he says. “The woman woke up shortly after you left. She wanted to say thanks.”

“I’ll stop off when I’m done with him.”

Three other soldiers appear from behind me. “What are we going to do with him, sir?”

“Let’s take him back to Uriel. I’m sure she has more creative ways to torture information from a demon,” I say, laughing. “Keep the knife there, by the way. You don’t want him to get his power back.”

- 3 -

“Got one for you,” I say to Uriel as I walk in the door, the boss demon in tow.

“Excellent,” she says. “I’ve been looking for him for centuries.”

The boss must not be impressed because he continues his verbal assault, focusing on Uriel this time. I try not to laugh when he switches to English for a few moments to say a few choice words about her mother. From everything I’ve read, god was supposedly a man, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that’s wrong. If it is though, god will be really pissed off at him when she ends this charade.

“Who is he?” I say, taking a seat on the couch.

“Astaroth,” she says. “One of Abaddon’s followers.”

“Abaddon, huh? The same one who is supposed to lead the armies of hell against you?”

“The one,” she said. “I assumed he was working in the area, but we didn’t have any proof.”

I nodded to her. “Why would he be here though?”

“I believe he wants to rebuild the portal.”

“Doesn’t sound promising,” I say. “Why doesn’t Michael come down and protect it?”

“I fear for his safety,” she says. “I haven’t heard from him in a few weeks.”

“They could have the lines of communication cut off.”

“We don’t work that way,” she says. “We have ways of communicating with each other that don’t rely on the physical realm.”

“You think they would hold a celebration if they took out your commander,” I say.

“Unless you wanted to keep things quiet.” She stares at the blade still stuck between Astaroth’s ribs. “That could be why we have seen an increase in demonic activity recently.”

I didn’t think about that possibility. I always figured they would ramp up their efforts at some point. Why not now?

“Is this true?” she asks him. “Is Abaddon close?”

“You can rot, you ugly bitch,” he laughs, spitting blood in her face.

“I figured you would have learned some manners when you were in Heaven,” she says. “I guess you need another lesson.”

She places the palm of her hand on his injured foot. I cover my eyes when she emits a bright white light through her fingertips and into the wound. From the smell, I can tell it is burning the flesh on his feet. I pinch my nose with my other hand attempting to keep from throwing up. After a minute the light fades from the room, returning it to its normal, candlelit glow.

“Shall we try this again?” she asks, smiling. “I’m not as innocent as I may look. Be thankful for the humans in my presence, fiend. I could kill you with just the sight of me.”

She pulls the dagger from his chest, allowing him to drop to the floor. I try not to laugh when he pulls off his shoes revealing his burnt feet.

“He is very close, witch,” he says, rubbing his feet. “Abaddon has promised the dark one a victory.” He raises his head to look right at me. “And your soul.”

“He isn’t doing too good with that last one,” I say, pulling the knife back to my hand. “How many more of your kind will I have to kill until you realize that I’m not as frail as you might think?”

“Your confidence will be your undoing,” he hesitates for a moment. “Reaper.”

“You told him?” she says, snapping her head at me.

“I didn’t have to. He saw me take one.”

“Then we cannot let this one leave,” she says. “We will need to find another messenger instead.”

“Messenger?” I say.

“I hoped to give Abaddon a warning. To leave this world and return to hell or risk being vanquished.”

Astaroth laughs uncontrollably on the floor. “He cares not for your terms, witch. He will only stop when the portal is open, flooding this earth with the rest of our brothers.”

“How well is the portal working for you?” I say with a smirk. “Hard to get anything done when your lieutenants keep dieing.”

He continues to laugh. “Belial was hardly a lieutenant. He wanted to open the portals for himself.”

“Puts him on your team,” I say. “Unless I’m wrong.”

“Very wrong,” he says.

“What about Israfil and Duncan?” I say. “I know those dented your plans.”

“Israfil has been dead for nearly a thousand years now,” he says. “I doubt you played a part in his demise.”

I look over at Uriel who shrugs back. The only explanation I have is that they didn’t know about him, or the necklace. Hopefully Sara stays away until we are done here. That’s another secret we don’t want to get out.

“As for Duncan,” he says, smiling. “He says you got lucky last time. He won’t fall for your tricks again.”

“Again?” I say. “Know some resurrection trick the angels don’t?”

“You can say that,” he says.

“I don’t know about you, Uriel, but I call bullshit on this,” I say stretching, careful not to stress my wounded arm.

“I need time to evaluate the truth. If what he says is true, we need to reinforce the riverfront quickly.”

“We were just down that way a few days ago,” I say. “If they were rebuilding the arch, we would have seen it.”

“Not if they used a veil,” she says.

“What the hell is a veil?” I say, looking over at Astaroth.

“A veil is an ability that allows you to mask the truth with an illusion.”

“So they can make it look like a wasteland at the riverfront yet still be rebuilding it?”

“Precisely,” she says.

“Sounds like a bunch of hocus-pocus to me.”

“Does it?” I try not to gasp when she morphs from the nine year old girl I’m used to seeing her as an into a beautiful blonde woman wearing a gray skirt-suit.