Incubus Inc.: Book 2

by Randi Darren

  “Tell me everything you know about this location,” Sam demanded.

  Groaning, the man began to slowly tremble from head to toe.

  Shit. Is his mind blocked?

  The trembling became a full-on body shake that had his feet and head smacking into the ground repeatedly.

  Leaning down, Sam pressed his hands to the man’s head and shoulders. Trying to keep him from injuring himself.

  Grunting, struggling against himself and Sam, the man continued to thrash around.

  Wren, Irene, and Abigail watched on, even as Sam struggled to help.

  A white froth began to fleck and appear on the man’s lips. Slowly turning into a strange fountain of foam pouring out of the man’s mouth.

  “Shit,” Sam said and started to pull the man off to one side. The last thing he needed was this person making a mess of himself right next to the gun.

  “Can’t you help him?” Abigail asked, following.

  “No. Pretty sure this is a mind lock he had and that I just triggered,” Sam admitted, feeling somewhat guilty. “He’s as good as a loaf of bread. He’s as dead as if I shot him in the damn head.”

  “Oh? Well, good thing I’m a Lich,” Irene said at the same time Caer said the same thing. “Soon as he passes, I’ll call his soul out and we can question it.”

  “I’m pretty sure that won’t be an option,” Sam muttered, crouching over the man even as the foam went from white to a dark red color.

  “What? Why not?” Caer asked, her tone indignant. “Don’t doubt my power, Sameerixis.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m strong enough to call any soul, Sammy,” Irene said.

  “I’m not. I just don’t think its an option because I’m betting his soul is going to go straight to the Silent One’s afterlife, or just cease to exist,” Sam grumbled. “We’re not fighting Jena here. We’re fighting… we’re fighting God, I guess.”

  That was a sobering statement for everyone.

  In the haste to get ready, no one had actually considered the truth of what they were doing.

  They were rebelling against the single person who could wipe their soul out with a single syllable or a wayward fart.

  If things went wrong, there would be no turning back from here.

  “We should be thankful that he’s the Silent One,” Sam muttered as the man’s eyes, which had rolled back in his head, began to burst blood vessels. “Him being a deadbeat dad works in our favor this time. He won’t come looking to find out what happened to this one soul.”

  “I find no consolation in that,” Caer stated. “I’m a Lich. An undead Lich Witch. We are unstoppable. But to have someone merely break my soul outright. That… no. That’s terrifying.”

  “Not sure I like that,” Irene murmured, clearly paraphrasing everything Caer said down.

  “Tell me about it,” Sam said.

  Suddenly the man went stiff, his arms and legs locked together at his sides.

  With a final exhalation that was bloody foam, the man went absolutely still.

  “No soul,” said Irene, confirming Sam’s earlier statement. “There’s nothing there at all. As if it didn’t exist.”

  “Possible it didn’t. Might have been a construct,” Sam said with a hollow chuckle. “No way to know. It’s the Silent One. He could do almost anything he wanted.”

  Abigail grunted at that.

  “Going back to the crates. No sense in sitting here wallowing in our fears,” Abigail said. “I’m just a tiny little mortal. No sense in even worrying about that at any level.”

  “Oh, speaking of,” Sam said, getting to his feet. “Abby, will you sign a binding contract with me?”

  “Huh? No. I already finished our contract. No need for another one,” Abigail said, turning her head to meet his eyes.

  “Ah, yes. A new contract. Nothing at all required from you other than your agreement. For nothing but your agreement, you’ll get eternal youth,” Sam said with a smile.

  Abigail frowned at that, slowly turning around to face him directly.

  “I… I don’t want you dying of old age later,” Sam admitted, feeling sheepish. “I can heal damage, bring you back from the dead, but I can’t rewind the clock. I can only stop it at whatever it’s at.”

  Slowly, Abigail gave him a smile. An ear to ear, tooth showing, warm smile.

  “Yeah. I’ll make an agreement with you, Sammy,” Abigail murmured.

  “Ugh. It makes my heart hurt,” Irene’s soul muttered. “I hate this.”

  “We should have him to ourselves. We deserve him more,” Caer agreed. “Let’s seduce him after this. We’ll let him feast on us for a few days. We’ll become his new favorite ‘chew toy’ as it were, then steal him away. We can let him do anything he wants to us.”

  Sam made sure to not react at all to the souls’ words.

  Twenty-Nine - Clear -

  “Hey, not to be the bitch here, but… don’t we have to get going?” Tiffany asked from where she sat behind the machine gun. She’d shifted to her Hybrid form at this point. “I mean, Eugenia was pretty adamant that no one would come in here. And someone did. I kinda feel like we should move it.”

  Holding onto Abigail’s hand as the bargain sealed itself, Sam considered Tiffany’s words.

  It was true that this was already out of the ordinary.

  “Yes,” Abigail said, giving Sam’s hand a squeeze and then shaking her hand out of it. “I’ll finish up my link to their systems. Give me a minute and then you two can get rolling.”

  “Great,” Tiffany said, pushing the big gun to one side and pulling up her SMG. “You’re on the pig, Irene. Just unload on anyone who doesn’t code knock first. You got it?”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Irene muttered, getting up behind the weapon.

  Sam was worried for her. As far as he knew, she wasn’t big on firearms.

  Then she checked to see if the belt was engaged by opening the cover, then closed it again. She tapped the cocking lever into the most forward position, visually checked the safety, and then pulled the weapon’s rear up into her shoulder.

  Damn. I’m the hindrance here, aren’t I? Everyone else is learning more and more and I’m just falling further and further behind.

  Shaking his head, Sam checked his pistol and then went over to Wren and Tiffany.

  “You in, Abby?” Wren asked, turning to look over at Abigail.

  She was set up off in a corner, a mess of cables and wires sprawling out from a hole in the wall and connecting to a computer terminal. She was hot-swapping from camera to camera to get a view on the facility.

  “Yeah. Got the feeds,” answered Abigail. “Pop your headsets and let’s check ’em.”

  Wren reached to her neck and pulled the headset there up around her ears.

  “Check One,” Wren said, while Sam pulled up his own headset. He didn’t care for them, but he knew they were for the benefit of the team.

  “Check Two,” Tiffany said, her voice coming across Sam’s headset.

  “Check Three,” Irene murmured.

  “Check Four,” said Abigail.

  “Check Five,” Sam muttered.

  “Alright, we’re on,” Wren said over the line. “Hold your fire as long as you can. This goes until we secure the lobby. Then we’re weapons absolutely free.

  “You ready, Four?”

  “Ready,” Abigail confirmed.

  “Two on point, go on three count,” Wren ordered.

  “Fuck me, going to get shot in the tits,” Tiffany complained moving up to the door. “Always in the fucking tits.”

  “No chatter,” commanded Wren.

  Tiffany shook her head but stopped talking, standing at the door.

  “Two ready. Waiting on call from Three,” Tiffany grumbled.

  “Call is go. Six in the lobby,” Abigail declared.

  “Three, two, one,” Wren said standing right behind Tiffany. Sam had taken the position directly behind Wren.

  “Right in the tits,” Tiffany said, je
rked the door open and charged out into the hall. Her SMG snuggled up close to her.

  Wren was right behind her, Sam following along after Wren.

  Moving down the hall, Sam kept his pistol up, held in both hands.

  “Door and hall is clear, proceed,” Abigail said over the line.

  Opening the door, Tiffany barely paused as she entered the next hall.

  “Five, hold the crossway before the lobby,” said Wren.

  “Understood,” Sam answered. He’d expected to be positioned there. Decima had pointed it out to him as a likely point someone would have to hold when he’d shared with her the layout.

  “Crossway is clear,” Abigail called over the radio.

  Tiffany didn’t even look down the hall, she crossed over it and went straight into the lobby.

  Almost immediately, shots began to rain out. Short, controlled bursts as Tiffany’s SMG leapt to life. Wren was on her heels, stepping to the left, aiming across toward the right, and began firing as well.

  Moving into the corner of the crossway, Sam lifted his pistol and leveled it toward the end of the hall.

  “Warehouse walk and crossway is clear, no movement,” Abigail said over the roar of gunfire. “Lobby entrance two has incoming.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Sam watched as Tiffany dumped a magazine and popped in a fresh one. Her hand flashing over the side to chamber a round.

  Getting up out of her partial crouch, Tiffany started moving forward, her muzzle flashing as she started to fire again.

  “Crossway has movement,” Abigail called.

  Gritting his teeth, Sam looked back down his way.

  His nerves were running high right now.

  As much as he wanted to pretend everything was fine, the simple reality was everything was changing.

  The afterlife was a jumbled mess, the Tenders weren’t doing their job, and the portal to the other side appeared to be incredibly stronger than he remembered it.

  On top of all that, the Judge, Seville, and the Silent One were all gearing up for a war. Cold, hot, guerilla, or otherwise.

  He wanted to reassure his people that if they went down, he could get them right back up.

  But he couldn’t. There were no guarantees right now.

  Two men with weapons appeared at the end of the hall.

  Sam moved his pistol slightly and pulled the trigger twice. Before he could shift to the next target, they’d already ducked back down around the corner.

  Sam’s initial target hit the ground and began screaming. That scream became a phlegmy-sounding gurgle.

  Got him in the lungs. He’s done.

  Keeping his weapon trained on the location he’d last seen the target, Sam waited.

  Kicking themselves against the floor, the wounded guard flopped their way back toward the corner.

  As soon as their hand made it across the point Sam could see, their comrade grabbed them and pulled them out of the line of fire.

  Sam personally didn’t care. He was almost positive that guard wouldn’t be coming back at all. If anything, leaving him to his comrade would slow them down more than killing them would do.

  Sometimes it’s better to leave them wounded.

  Off to his side, the sound of gunfire was rapidly slowing down.

  “Crossway combatants are falling back,” Abigail reported. “Warehouse walk is—”

  The sound of a heavy machine gun ripping loose dominated the coms. It echoed off the walls and Sam swore it felt like he could hear the damage it was doing to his ears all the way to where he was.

  Even with his headset on, it hurt.

  A hand dropped on Sam’s shoulder.

  Looking up, he found Wren standing above him. Her eyes were glowing, and red mist trailed out with every breath she took. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but then she pointed back the way they’d came from.

  Nodding his head, he understood what she wanted.

  Taking his place as he got up, Wren covered the crossway, and Sam headed back toward the warehouse.

  The incessant never-ending machine gun fire continued to roll and thunder. Getting ever louder as he went back the way they’d come.

  Reaching the door, Sam hesitated. He couldn’t hear anything and had no idea if Abigail was warning him off or telling him it was clear.

  Pausing for a second longer, he then entered with his pistol raised.

  Marching down the hall, he saw a number of guards all standing on each side of the door into the warehouse.

  Moving to one side Sam hugged the wall, trying to hide behind those in front of him.

  Quickly as he was able, he closed in on the guards and began firing straight into the back of their heads. Clearing those in front of him who were facing away, he ended up staring at the other side of the door and more guards.

  Shifting his weight slightly, Sam got a better hold on his weapon and began squeezing off rounds into faces and masks. Counting with each shot to make sure he knew what he had left available to him.

  One after another went down until there was no one left. None of them had even noticed what was going on till it was too late.

  Two left. One in the chamber, one in the magazine.

  Popping the mag out, Sam slipped it into his vest upside down and pulled a fresh one out. Sliding it into place, he lifted the pistol back up and pointed it down the hall. All he had to do was wait for the tumult of Irene’s fury to end.

  Eventually, the hammering of the gun came to an end.

  “Three, this is Five. Coming in. Please respond,” Sam tried.

  There was no response to his statement.

  “Three, this is Five. I’m going to come in. Please respond,” said Sam, hoping she’d actually respond this time. To be fair, he couldn’t actually hear his own voice over the terrifying and painful ringing in his ears.

  Grimacing, Sam was pretty sure he could pound on the door and Irene wouldn’t hear it anyways.

  “Caer!” Sam shouted at the top of his lungs, coming to a different solution to the problem, turning his face toward the door. Her name sounded enough like a regular word that he was willing to risk shouting it. If someone heard it, they wouldn’t know what to make of it.

  And with any luck she’d heard him. A soul wouldn’t take hearing damage after all.

  And she’s probably in there. And heard me. She’ll tell the Irene-soul to come over here and—

  Caer and Irene’s two-headed soul popped out through the bullet-chewed door.

  “Oh,” mouthed Caer and Irene in unison. If they actually said something, Sam missed it. Zipping back inside, Sam waited for ten seconds.

  Distantly he swore he could hear the sound of continued gunfire, but realistically he couldn’t hear much of anything.

  Giving his head a shake, Sam reached up and finally thought of actually doing something about his hearing loss. With barely a fraction of Essence, he got everything back to working order.

  Which clearly had worked, since he could hear distant gunfire after all.

  It sounded like Wren and Tiffany were still fighting.

  Taking in a breath, then letting it out, Sam moved forward and walked through the door. He really didn’t want to stand out in the hall any longer than he had to.

  Irene was bent over her machine gun. An empty canister of ammo was to one side, a fresh one set close to her left.

  “Hey, Sam. Can’t hear a thing,” Irene said over her weapon.

  Nodding at that, Sam came over and laid a hand on her shoulder. Fixing her ears the same way he’d done his own, he then moved over to Abigail. She was still calling out what she saw as she saw it, but he imagined she probably couldn’t hear much either.

  “—all combatants are falling back,” Abigail was saying. “Moving back toward the barracks. All ways are clear otherwise. All armory doors are secured remotely.”

  Abigail flinched when Sam’s Essence flooded through her ears, then she relaxed, glancing over her shoulder.

  Giving him a br
oad smile, she reached back and grabbed at his leg and patted him. Then went back to her screen.

  “Five is returning to lobby from Warehouse path,” Abigail said, her hands moving back to the keyboard.

  “Cancel that,” Wren said. “One and Two will move to reposition at barracks hall. Bring the pig up.”

  “This is Three, copy,” Irene said, grabbing up the machine gun by the bi-pod. Turning, Irene looked at Sam with a smile, then indicated the ammo canisters. “Come carry my tins, Sammy.”

  The soul began to laugh at that and then zipped over to Sam.

  “Or carry our core,” Irene’s soul purred at him.

  “Crush me,” Caer begged. “Make me feel it.”

  Sam once more pretended he couldn’t hear the soul. The longer he pretended he couldn’t, the longer he could eavesdrop on them.

  And it was mildly amusing.

  Grabbing the soul with his left hand, he stuffed his pistol into its holster. Squeezing the core he walked over to Irene and started grabbing up the ammo cans.

  “I’ll carry your tins, Irene. Make your knees buckle a bit, too,” Sam said, smiling at her.

  “Hm. Well. Maybe I like it when you make my knees buckle. I’m an undead Lich with Witch powers. There’s probably only a single man in the world who could make me quiver,” Irene said, her face turning a soft red color. Then she gestured with a head nod to her soul. “Little harder in the middle please. The further you go to the sides the less I get from it. Come on. More people to kill. We can flirt and fool around later.”

  Turning, Irene marched for the door while holding onto the machine gun. It looked odd on her, given her body type, but she was holding it properly. Sam had to stay relatively close to her since he had the ammo can her current belt was feeding from.

  Exiting the room and entering the hallway, Irene kept the gun ready. They moved through the halls with relative ease, encountering no one.

  “Three and Five approaching from the south corridor,” Abigail reported through their headsets. “Base neutralized outside of the barracks.”

  Entering into a corridor that intersected with another, Sam saw Tiffany and Wren up ahead. They both appeared alright as far as he could tell. Wren was pulling desks into the narrow hallway while Tiffany covered it.