“The same prison you were reluctant to leave?”
“I had to hide the truth from you, Keira.”
“But why?”
“Because I was ashamed!”
Link stirred, rubbing his eyes and watching us quietly from his pillow. He quickly returned to his sleep, this time snoring only lightly.
“Imagine,” Jack said, finally turning my way, “fetching a demon’s food. Scrubbing a demon’s floor. Washing a demon’s rags. There’s nothing he wouldn’t make me do that didn’t contribute to the destruction of my soul. I didn’t want to tell you that because I was embarrassed. When I first saw you climb in that window, I thought you would end up in the same position as me. But then you showed me your magic. Remember that?”
I nodded.
“That gave me hope. I realized then that, with your offer, I could escape from that life and then return to reclaim my pride. Only now it seems that Zorin has returned to the underworld, and I’m so much further from vengeance.”
Skeptical, I watched Jack as he spoke. I searched for the tell-tale sign of a lie – some little mannerism that might make it look as though he was bullshitting again. I just couldn’t find anything. It looked like he was telling the truth, for the first time since I’d found him, and I suddenly felt a great deal of sympathy for my old friend.
“I’ll still help you,” I told him.
Jack wiped traces of sweat from his forehead. “You will?”
“I will. Just… don’t lie to me again, okay?”
“You’re a good friend, Keira Poe.”
“Damn right.”
It was getting late now, and fatigue hit me like a brick. With only one fold-out bed in the apartment, I took some cushions to the floor and spread out on top of them, leaving Jack with the bed. It was a rough night of sleep, with images of demons and imps flashing through my mind like a turbulent storm. The floor was hard, making me turn every few minutes and disrupting my slumber until I suddenly jolted awake with the sun bleeding through the window and shooting directly into my eyes.
“Coffee?”
I squinted, raising my hand to block out the sun and saw Jack stood in my kitchen. Link rested on his shoulder, and they were working together to make breakfast. “Make yourself at home,” I said sarcastically, slowly climbing to my feet.
“I gave him permission to use the food,” Link said.
“And who gave you permission?”
Link shrugged. “Fate?”
I smiled thinly and grabbed the nearest steaming cup of coffee. The caffeine – much like alcohol – had no effect on immortals, but the strong aroma and smooth taste combined to help arouse my enthusiasm for another day. It was psychological, rather than chemical.
“So, what’s the plan?” Jack asked, leaning against the small counter that divided the living room from the kitchen. He had already washed and changed back into his own clothes, which were now dry again.
Exhaling loudly, I shrugged. “We go back to the imps, I guess.”
“Must we?”
“Well, since we found nothing but demon filth at the cemetery, yeah.”
Jack nodded, staring down at the ground, before he finally broke from his trance and reached behind him for his own cup. “I suppose we could ask them about the Staff of Lucada. Their leader seemed to be all-knowing.”
I looked up from my coffee, rolling my head to the side. “What staff?”
“The demons were talking about it when they had me in captivity.”
“Whoa, whoa.” I set down my mug and stormed into the kitchen, shaking with excitement and violating his personal space. “They were discussing their plan and you waited until now to tell me? Why didn’t you say something?”
Jack shrugged. “I didn’t think you knew anything about staffs or summonings.”
“We’re a team, though!”
Link stood, beat his wings and fled from the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone to quarrel over our differences. I tried my best to remain calm – tried not to take my anger out on Jack. Again. It was easier said than done, considering this was supposed to be Chicago’s new hero. I just had to hope he’d eventually pull his head out of his ass.
“You’re smart,” I told Jack, keeping my tone even. “You’re also strong and brave, but you have no sense of teamwork whatsoever. I know you’ll be working alone when the time comes, but now and then you’ll need a partner, and you have to learn to look out for them. That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
“Oh, that’s all,” Jack said, traces of sarcasm lining his voice.
I ignored that. “For now, we should look into this staff.”
“Okay. Do you have books on it or something?”
“No, but I know someone who does. Come on.” I marched into the living room and picked my jacket up off the floor. Slinging it over my shoulder, I swept the magicard up off the side, before turning back to Jack. “You don’t happen to have a car, do you?”
“I’m afraid not.”
I sighed. “Figures.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I hate doing this,” I said, standing on the landing outside my apartment.
Jack and Link – the latter of whom had gone to quite some trouble to convince me that it was okay for him to tag along – stood behind me, waiting patiently. Nevertheless, the pressure was on me to create the portal.
The trouble with these things was that it took some getting used to with each new place I visited. For instance, I’d grown accustomed to creating portals from the VHS store to the Vault, and so each of those locations had become easy for me. Trying to leave from my apartment and end up in Bloomington was nothing short of risky. I’d explained this to the boys, but they were both insistent that time was of the utmost importance.
“Just breathe,” Link said. “Take it slow.”
“Yeah, thanks for the advice.” I placed my fingers together and focused on the space in front of me. I tried to visualize where I wanted to go, and as soon as I could see it in my mind’s eye, I swooped my arms around in a wide arc, burning a hole right into the air. Inside the new portal was the image of my friend’s store.
“Nice one,” Jack said.
“Well done,” from Link.
I gave a mocking curtsey and moved to put my leg through. I stopped myself only inches away, craning my neck to look at my friends. “If you come through the other side with another hand growing out of your head, don’t blame me.”
Jack chuckled and gave a wink. “That would make things a lot easier.”
“Ew.”
Holding my breath so as not to disrupt the air, I climbed inside the portal and emerged on the other side. I patted down my body, making sure I was still in one piece, and then gave the signal to Jack and Link, who followed without question. As soon as they were beside me, I sealed the portal and relaxed.
“Congrats,” Link said. “We’re still alive.”
“Yeah, but where are we?” Jack asked.
I shot a look up and down the length of the quiet street. All I could see were buildings; houses mostly, with not a single person in sight. Right in front of us, however, was my friend’s store for ancient artifacts and spells. I hurried inside, out of the deceivingly bright sunlight and into the dark, dusty store. When I saw that the cabinets had been smashed, and shards of glass littered the floor around the room, my heart sank.
“What happened here?” Jack asked, coming in through the door.
I ignored him as I searched the store with a lump in my throat. If anything had happened to the owner – a good friend of mine named Ernie – I didn’t know what I would do. Actually, I did. I’d hunt down the perpetrators and rip all their limbs from their bodies.
Readying my magic in case of a fight, I pushed through the debris to the back. I noticed a couch and two armchairs, both tattered and torn, surrounded by dust motes. The overpowering scent of burning candles assailed my senses, and I waved a hand to waft it. It wasn’t until a minute later, when I passed the couches a
nd turned to look back at the room, that I saw Ernie splayed out across the floor.
“Ernie!”
I rushed to his side, aware of Link and Jack rushing in to help me. I felt Ernie’s neck for a pulse, and when I found one, he grunted and groaned. With the help of my friends, I lifted him to his feet and then lowered him into one of the chairs, where Jason had once sat.
Ernie’s eyes were only half open, but as they slowly began to open all the way, he started to thrash and weakly protest, clearly not recognizing me or the faery at my side. “Get away from me,” he said, terror filling his trembling voice.
“It’s me, Ernie.” I knelt in front of him, giving him a clear view of my face.
“Keira?”
“That’s right. What happened here?”
It took some time for Ernie to adjust. The blondish-ginger hair around his chin wiggled as his mouth opened and closed, his chubby neck shaking when he moved. When he finally came around and his nerves settled, he put his hand on mine. “The staff.”
I shot a horrified look at Jack, who reciprocated it, before I turned back to my old friend. “What staff, Ernie? The Staff of Lucada?”
“Yes, I… How did you know?”
“It’s a long story. Tell me what happened here.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I–I was minding my own business, looking into some new coins that were brought to me by a customer. A whole load of men came into the store, and I had that sense of trouble. You know when you just know that something isn’t right?”
I nodded, unwilling to interrupt.
“That’s how I felt. There was one man in a business suit – a classy fellow, and really quite dashing – but all the others only wore robes. Long, flowing robes. Like–”
“Mages robes.”
“Exactly.” I sucked in a deep, nervous breath, letting it out while hoping that nobody could identify the tension within. Right now, Ernie needed a pillar of hope – of confidence. I wasn’t ready to deprive him of that. “Go on.”
“They were asking for the staff,” Ernie said. “I told them I didn’t know where it was, but they insisted that I had it in my possession. I tried, Keira. I tried to send them away, but it was like they knew I had it.”
“It’s okay,” I said, rubbing his arm to comfort him. “They didn’t hurt you too badly?”
“No. I… I guess not.”
Jack stepped forward then, addressing Ernie directly. “Sir, we believe these men were cultists of Zorin, the Demon King. Do you know why they might have wanted the staff?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Ernie winced as he sat up. “The staff only has one purpose, and that is to summon Zorin.”
The room fell deadly silent then, as each of us contemplated the consequences of this theft. Jack, I suspected, saw this crime as a good blessing, and now he was one step closer to claiming his vengeance. I got to my feet and took him to one side, lowering my voice so as not to rattle the others.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“Well,” Jack said. “Looks like we need to get that staff.”
“Right, and we have to do it fast. If someone else summons that son of a bitch, we won’t stand a chance of defeating him. On the other hand, if we get it back on time and use it to summon Zorin ourselves…”
“We’ll have control over him.”
“Exactly.”
Jack’s eyes lit up at the very idea of controlling the Demon King. What a turning of the tables that would be, to see him make a bitch of this demon. I only hoped that, if we succeeded, he would make his revenge swift and fuss-free. After all, nobody wanted a demon running around the streets of Chicago, no matter whose control it was under.
I returned to Ernie with a glint of hope in my eye, and a series of questions fresh in my mind. It was difficult to know exactly where to begin, but as I opened my mouth, the words seemed to form as if by themselves. “Tell me everything you know,” I said. “Starting with the staff.”
Chapter Eighteen
We were on our way to Bloomington Lake, and a little more clued in than before. After making a couple of phone calls, the man who’d attacked Ernie was easily identified as Ryker, an ex-colonel for the United States Marines. During his service he’d amassed a great number of awards, which even included the Medal of Honor. However, his illustrious career had come to an end when he’d discovered a gateway to the underworld. Ernie’s friend had gone on to inform us that, rather than report his findings to the government, he’d instead decided to enter that gateway, after which he’d become enslaved by demons. Since then, he’d done nothing but hurt people in a desperate attempt to revive Zorin.
Some people would do anything for a sense of control over the world.
The sun was setting by the time we reached Bloomington Lake. Ernie’s contact had promised to meet us here, where we could exchange more intimate details about Ryker. If we were lucky, perhaps we’d even learn where to find him, although I doubted it.
Ernie stopped the car at the end of the empty lot and shuffled around in his seat. “I think it best that I do the talking,” he said. “If you can, try to hang back a bit. We don’t want him to grow suspicious of us, hmm?”
“Whatever you say.” Jack climbed out of the car.
I wrapped my hand around the handle and was about to get out myself, but I stopped suddenly, a thought occurring to me. “Stay here, Link. You heard what Ernie said. We’ll be back in a few minutes, hopefully with a plan of some sort.”
Link saluted me, and then I climbed out of the car where a gentle breeze swept across the open lake, massaging my skin as the sun went down. The sky bloomed with different oranges and reds and purples, and I wondered just how many more sunsets I would get to see. After deciding that I wouldn’t let it bring me down, I followed after Jack and Ernie until we reached a jetty leading down to the lake, which housed only one small boat.
Ernie waved us back, approaching it cautiously while leaning forward to see inside. “Yoohoo, is anyone there?”
Nothing.
“Hello?” he tried again.
Still nothing.
I suddenly heard the sound of crunching gravel behind me. I turned on my heel to see a Range Rover parking behind us. Jack turned, too, as just one man got out of the car, staring at us. He was thin and wiry, his bald head shimmering under the last beam of sunlight. Glasses sat on the tip of his nose, and he tilted his head back to look down at us. When he spotted Ernie, he walked over to us with a speed that suggested impatience, annoyance, and intolerance.
“I told you to come alone,” he said to Ernie.
Ernie, breezing past us and seizing control of the situation, poked his thumb over his shoulder at us, not making a big deal of the firm instruction. “They’re my bodyguards. I hired them after Ryker attacked me, as I’m sure you can understand.”
The bald man, who had only been referred to as Mr. White, glared over at us. I felt his eyes on me, and could imagine what he must have thought about a small woman being hired as a bodyguard. Still, he kept his thoughts to himself and turned back to Ernie. “You got the money?”
Ernie jolted his hands upward, like a magician revealing his empty sleeves, said “Ah,” and then produced an envelope of money. He handed it over as if it meant nothing; two thousand dollars in exchange for an address. That was the advantage of having slimy friends working for the IRS: information could easily be bought from them.
Mr. White took the envelope and checked inside. He licked his thin upper lip, stashed the envelope away and then lowered his voice, as if the pier was bugged. “The records show that Ryker has divorced from his wife. He has two children, ages eight and ten, and occasionally does work for a DIY store in Chicago’s South End. Hill’s Woodwork, it’s called, if you want to pay a visit.”
Ernie nodded. “We can’t catch him at work though. What’s his home address?”
“I can’t give you that.”
“But you promised.”
“And then I changed my mind.” Mr. Whi
te smiled sleazily, and then turned back to his car. He began to walk, but only took two steps before stopping again. This time he spun around, a knowing grin on his face. “Of course, for an extra two thousand, I could give you what you want.”
I glanced at Jack, who stood grinding his teeth. I couldn’t blame him, either – he’d gone through hell and back to find some answers about this Ryker guy, and now some weasel was trying to blackmail us. I found myself waiting for him to act.
Ernie peered over his shoulder at me before turning back to his contact. “I don’t have any more money,” he said. “Please, tell us what we paid you for. Nobody will know that you tipped us off. As soon as you leave – poof – your involvement will be forgotten.”
Mr. White held out a hand. “Two grand.”
“That’s it.” Jack finally intervened, brushing Ernie aside and grabbing Mr. White by the collar. Fear suddenly lit up the man’s features as Jack lifted him off the ground, his glasses falling to the floor with a crack. “This man paid you for some dirty work, and you’d damn well better provide. Now, what’s Ryker’s address?”
“Or what?” said Mr. White. “You’ll bully me more?”
“Bully? No, I’m past bullying.” In a heartbeat, Jack tossed him to the ground and then stormed toward him, kicking him sharply in the stomach. The man winced and covered his chest and face with his arms. “I’m not playing your silly games. Not today. Tell me Ryker’s address, and I just might let you live.”
“All-All right!” Mr. White yelped, shaking as he climbed back to his feet and grabbed his broken glasses from the ground. He reached inside his pocket, to which Jack snapped out a hand and gripped his wrist, but then Mr. White slowly produced a folded sheet of paper.
“What’s this?”
“The address,” said Mr. White, his beady eyes darting everywhere but at Jack. “Can I go now?”
Inner Demons Page 8
