I, Angel

by JC Andrijeski

  The trick was holding it back.

  Even now, Dags didn’t open that valve up entirely.

  He opened it just enough to give himself a hard shove in the demon’s direction.

  That shove threw Dags through the air.

  It threw him hard enough, fast enough, his vision blurred.

  After that, everything seemed to happen in less than a second.

  He missed the shadow.

  Dags crashed into the stone stairs, shuddering the metal frame, cracking the stone where he landed with his knee before he managed to yank himself back to his feet.

  From the other side of the couch, Phoenix gasped, her head and body jerking up.

  Dags didn’t let himself look at her.

  He found the demon with his eyes.

  The creature stood in the center of the living room, between the river-stone fireplace and the bar.

  That time, Dags opened himself up entirely, releasing the full charge of the blue-green fire. The force of it shot his arms out to the sides, filling his chest so intensely he let out a gasp, his fingers curling into fists, his arms flexing.

  A burst of light left his body.

  When it did, it briefly illuminated everything around him. Dags found himself staring directly into the green and blue tinted face of the demon for the first time.

  It was definitely Karver.

  It also definitely wasn’t Karver.

  The demon’s facial expression seemed to strain and contort the human’s muscles and skin, like his body couldn’t assimilate the foreign presence. The demon didn’t stand like him. Its smile looked completely foreign on the actor’s face. Those stunning, light-brown, amber-colored eyes now glowed with a red tint, somehow exaggerating his high cheekbones, contrasting strangely with his suntanned skin.

  Dags blinked into those eyes, shocked by how inhuman they looked.

  The creature blinked back, and the red eyes shone brighter.

  It wasn’t only the color that made Dags stare. The expression living there, the attitude, the presence, the level of intelligence. None of it was remotely the same.

  Dags hadn’t particularly liked the actor he’d met a few hours earlier, but he’d gotten more of a run of the mill jerk vibe off Karver⏤not a serial killer vibe.

  The presence there now emanated sheer malevolence.

  Even for a demon, the damned thing struck Dags as malevolent.

  It also looked smarter than the vast majority of demons Dags encountered.

  “I guess your name might suit you after all,” the creature smiled.

  “Let him go,” Dags cut in, his voice a harder growl. “Now.”

  “There, there.” The creature tsk’d him, holding up a hand. “No need to get yourself all riled up, O Mighty Being of Light. We aim to please.”

  The demon’s eyes briefly fell out of focus, as if it were listening to a faraway sound.

  After a handful of seconds, its eyes clicked back into focus.

  “We heard your request. My master has agreed.”

  The demon smiled at Dags, winking.

  “We will do this another time after all, Kills Many.” Gauging Dags’ face, as if trying to discern his reaction to the words, the demon smiled wider. “And my, my. My master, as always, was absolutely right. This is going to be fun.”

  Dags opened his mouth to tell the thing exactly where it could shove its “fun,” in precise detail, with a few colorful adjectives⏤

  A blinding red light exploded out of the other body.

  It illuminated the staircase, blinding Dags.

  Then it slammed into him, like a physical force.

  It felt like getting hit with a violent wind.

  Very little could knock Dags over when he was swimming in the power of the Change, but this very nearly did. The light, wind, charge⏤whatever it was that came off the demon’s form⏤hit into Dags hard enough to physically throw him back.

  He didn’t fall from that alone, but he did lose his balance.

  His foot slipped, landing on the stone stair below.

  Unfortunately, that was the same stone stair he’d cracked earlier with his knee.

  His foot landed heavily in the middle of the same slab, and that time it broke down the middle, his foot crashing through. Dags landed hard on his back on one of the upper stairs, his leg and foot dangling through the opening.

  Luckily, his arms caught the worst of his fall.

  They remained tensed and spread out, allowing him to catch his weight even as he landed more or less flat on his back.

  Before he could pull himself out, Karver’s body crumpled.

  The light winked out.

  Unlike Dags, Karver went straight down, like a puppet with cut strings. His knees folded, his eyes rolled back in his head, his face went slack. It was as if every muscle in his body went limp simultaneously. Even the muscles of his neck dropped the weight of his head.

  Dags dragged himself out of the hole in the stairs.

  He lunged in Karver’s direction, more out of instinct than thought.

  He was already too late.

  Karver hit heavily into the stone tile, including his head, which made a thunk sound against the stone that made Dags wince.

  Dags managed to disentangle himself from the stairs, and ran for the other man.

  Reaching him in a heartbeat, he knelt beside him, hesitating a bare breath as he tried to decide whether he should touch him, or try to move him. Dags could see it, though. Already, that dark blue aura Dags remembered from the real Karver was creeping back around his body, starting with his belly and chest, swimming up to his throat and head.

  The demon had told the truth.

  It had left.

  Despite Dags demanding it do just that, he’d never known a demon to do that before, either. Usually, Dags had to force them out. Usually, he more or less had to rip them apart in the process.

  Dags was still staring down when Karver jerked.

  Dags reached tentatively for his throat, checking his pulse.

  Thready, but it was coming back.

  Just then, Karver coughed, groaning.

  “Is he all right?”

  Dags jumped, turning his head.

  Phoenix stood over him, peering around him at Karver.

  He squinted up at her in the dark, able to make out the bare outline of her form, but struggling a little to see her after that shock of bright red light.

  Tearing his eyes off her face, he returned his focus to Karver.

  “I don’t know,” he said truthfully.

  “That wasn’t him.” Phoenix moved closer, standing directly behind where Dags knelt on the tile. “Karver. That wasn’t him before. Was it?”

  Dags felt his jaw harden.

  Before he let himself think, he shook his head.

  “No,” he said.

  “Who was it?” Phoenix paused. “What was it?”

  Again, there was a silence.

  Again, Dags answered her more or less truthfully.

  “I don’t know. Not precisely.” He didn’t look up from where Karver was now bringing a hand to his bleeding head, gasping in obvious pain. “But I think it’s the same thing that attacked me in that alley last night.”

  He watched as Karver’s eyes squeezed shut, right before the actor let out another moan.

  “We need to call an ambulance,” Dags said, his voice strangely calm. “He hit his head pretty hard. He probably has a concussion⏤”

  “What the fuck did you do to me?” Karver burst out, still holding his head, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. “Damned freak… what did you do to me? Did you really attack me while I was asleep?”

  “No,” Phoenix said, before Dags could answer.

  Walking around Dags, she knelt on Karver’s other side. Hesitantly, she reached out, touching his face, trying to pull his hand away so she could look at his head.

  “It wasn’t him, Karver. He scared the guy off.”

  “What the hell were you talking about?”
Karver said. He was panting, his voice pained. “Just now. What were you talking about?”

  “Don’t worry about that right now⏤” Phoenix began.

  “Fuck you, Nix! Just tell me what happened!”

  Dags was already backing off, rising to his feet and straightening to his full height.

  He glanced around in the dark space then walked to the bar.

  Finding a light switch on the wall by the sink, he flicked it on. It didn’t raise the central lights, but turned on the hanging lights over the bar itself.

  It was still enough for him to see most of the living room.

  It was also enough to show him what a mess it was.

  The broken stone stair had scattered fragments all over the floor.

  Karver was bleeding.

  Stranger still, so was Dags.

  Between the two of them, blood splatters decorated the tile, the stairs, even the white walls. Dags looked down at himself, saw a few splatters on his shirt. He touched his head, and realizing it wasn’t only Karver’s head that was bleeding.

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. The glass front also sported a new crack, bisecting it in a diagonal line.

  Fantastic.

  Swiping the front, he was relieved it still worked.

  He dialed 911.

  After telling them what he could about Karver’s possible injuries, he gave the operator the address here and hung up.

  He stared at the phone for a beat.

  The second call would be harder. He didn’t want to make it, but he didn’t really question whether or not he needed to do it, or whether he needed to do it now. He stood there, holding the phone for a few extra seconds anyway.

  Then he succumbed to the inevitable.

  He dialed Kara’s number.

  Listening to it ring, he glanced at Karver, who Phoenix was helping to sit up. The male actor was touching his forehead, his fingers examining a growing lump there. His eyes winced in pain as he panted. His aura sparked and flashed with pain, too.

  Phoenix had her arm around him, and was speaking to her boyfriend softly, caressing his back with one hand.

  Dags looked away.

  He looked for Asia.

  She was finally waking up and staring blankly around at all three of them from her spot on the couch. He watched her pull earplugs out of her ears; that explained one mystery at least. Sitting up, she wrapped the fluffy white blanket tightly around her like a shield.

  Then she just sat there, taking in the blood, the wounded Karver, Dags’ bloody head, the broken stair. She gazed around at all of it, uncharacteristically silent.

  Dags heard footsteps and people calling to one another from other parts of the house.

  Looking around at the same scene Asia was staring at, Dags felt a sick feeling growing in his gut as all of it sank in.

  This looked… bad.

  Really bad.

  If he didn’t end up in a jail cell by the end of the night, it would be a damned miracle.

  Chapter 18

  Three Strikes

  “And you’re absolutely sure there was someone else here?” Kara looked between Dags and Phoenix, hands on her hips. Her eyes grew harder when they settled on Dags. “Who?”

  Dags answered as honestly as he could.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  Kara scowled.

  “You fought this guy, but you didn’t see him?”

  “It was dark,” Phoenix cut in.

  Dags glanced at her, saw her look towards the stairs, towards where the paramedics were sitting with Karver, trying to get a better look at the lump on his head.

  “It was really dark,” Phoenix added, still looking at Karver. “I was watching, right from the couch, and I couldn’t see him, either.”

  “And whoever it was, they were holding him hostage?” Kara said, her voice still openly suspicious. “Your boyfriend over there? How? And why doesn’t he remember it?”

  “I don’t know,” Phoenix said, giving Dags a bare glance. “He might have drugged him or something. Karver wasn’t fighting him. The guy held Karver on the stairs, and Mr. Jourdain was telling him to let Karver go⏤”

  “And how did the step get broken?”

  Dags frowned. “The guy hit me. I fell. Hard.”

  Kara’s eyes swiveled up to his.

  A cold look lived in her eyes, one that clearly conveyed her outright skepticism of everything the two of them were telling her.

  Even as he thought it, she motioned for Dags to come with her.

  When he followed, she backed deeper into the room, closer to the wall of glass. Phoenix started to follow too, but Kara held up a hand.

  “Please stay there, Ms. X,” she said, her voice polite but firm. “I need to talk to Mr. Jourdain alone.”

  Phoenix hesitated, biting her lip.

  She looked at Dags, as if to ask him if he was okay with that.

  Dags nodded.

  Not like he had a lot of choice.

  Kara reached the massive windows and kept walking, leading him down past the bamboo partition on the left. She took him all the way to the end of that corridor and out the glass doors, out onto the patio, where the firepit lived.

  She looked around them, as if making sure she wouldn’t be overheard.

  Then she stepped closer to Dags, her voice a low hiss.

  “What the fuck is going on, Jourdain?”

  Dags frowned. “We’re trying to tell you⏤”

  “Bullshit,” she snapped. “I know you’re not telling me something. I know she’s not telling me something. I know you’re lying, both of you, which means you’ve roped this actress into whatever bizarre shit you have going on⏤”

  “I don’t have anything ‘going on,’” Dags said, exasperated. “And if anything, they roped me into this. Not the reverse.”

  “Bullshit, Dags,” Kara snapped. “This has your weird crap written all over it.” Pausing, she said, “Was there really someone else here? Or did you get into it with that movie star?”

  Dags stared at her. “What?”

  “I’m not an idiot, Jourdain. It’s pretty clear there’s something going on with you and that actress, Phoenix X. Did you get into it with Karver Jamison? Over her? According to all the gossip sites, the two of them are together. Did Karver walk in on you and his girlfriend getting overly friendly? So you knocked him on his ass?”

  “No,” Dags growled.

  “Then what happened? Tell me the truth.”

  “We are telling you the truth,” Dags snapped.

  “So that’s your story? That there was someone else here?”

  “There was someone else here,” Dags said, knowing without a single doubt he was telling the truth. “I didn’t do that to Karver, Kara. Hell, I’ll take a damned lie detector test, if you want.”

  “No.”

  The homicide detective scowled, exhaling. Resting her hands on her hips, she looked out over the view of the ocean, exhaling again.

  “Damn it, Dags. You’ve got to know it looks weird. All of this looks weird. You’re like a magnet for bad things⏤”

  “I’m aware of that,” Dags grumbled.

  “Even for you, this is a lot, Jourdain, and not only to me. A fight in the alley. A dead guy in your apartment. Now this… whatever the hell this is. And that doesn’t even get into the weirdness of your actual apartment, and all those weapons. Or what the hell you’re doing spending the night here, with three of the top billing movie stars right now⏤”

  “Asia asked me to spend the night,” Dags growled. “They were scared. Phoenix has been getting threats. We told you all of this⏤”

  “‘Phoenix,’” Kara said, putting air quotes around the name. “‘Asia.’ You’re awfully chummy with these people, Jourdain. Given all three of you claim to have just met.”

  Dags opened his mouth.

  He closed it.

  He couldn’t really deny that part. Nor could he explain it.

  “Asia asked me
to stay,” he repeated stubbornly. “I didn’t want to. Believe me. I wanted to go home. But I’d already told them I’d take the job.” Exhaling, he rested a hand on his hip, combing his fingers through his hair with his other hand. “I messed up, though. I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep. I was too tired, I guess.”

  Again, that hard stare from Kara.

  “Do you really think this cockamamie story is going to fly downtown?”

  “With who?” Dags said, frustrated. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s no crime I’m connected to, Kara.” Part of his annoyance that time came from knowing Kara was pretending she had more on him than she did. “Why would anyone even need to know about this downtown? This is Malibu. That’s L.A. County jurisdiction, not LAPD. Me bringing you into this was just a courtesy, in case it connected to the Tig case⏤”

  “What Tig case?” Kara said, raising her voice to match his. “Jason Tig is dead, Jourdain. There is no ‘Tig case.’ There’s just a you case, and I’m not even sure what to charge you with at this point. Being a public menace, maybe⏤”

  “Kara,” he snapped, but she held up a hand.

  “Okay, Dags. Okay.”

  She exhaled, her eyes going back to the ocean.

  Then, nodding again, maybe to herself this time, she walked away from him, aiming her feet for the open glass door leading into the house.

  “Don’t leave town,” she said, without looking over her shoulder. “I mean it this time. Don’t even think about going anywhere.”

  Dags knew that was an empty threat, too.

  Still, he didn’t bother saying anything.

  He also didn’t follow Kara back inside.

  Standing in the cold ocean air, he remained where he was, his mind churning as he stared out at the faint pink light of dawn now illuminating the sea.

  As soon as Kara told him they were done with him, Dags headed for the front door.

  His mind was already turning over where he needed to go next.

  He’d more or less resigned himself to the fact that he probably wouldn’t be sleeping for a while. The sun was up enough that he found himself thinking about the coffee he’d promised Jane Harrow, and maybe even picking up some bagels for breakfast.