Damian's Chronicles Complete series Boxed Set

by Michael Todd

  All the guys knew that it could happen—and one day would happen—but that didn’t make the loss any easier. Chris put his hand on the priest’s shoulder as he began to pray, holding his bible tightly. That was the first time he had lost a family member, a teammate, and a friend to the ravages of demon warfare.

  For the rest of his life, Damian would never forget Ethan’s face or the way he had sacrificed his life to avenge the death of a perfect stranger.

  Chapter One

  The blaze crackled loudly in the firepit in a café on the outskirts of Rome. People milled through the outdoor seating area as Damian sat with a book perched on his lap. His eyes were focused on it, but his mind absorbed nothing. He was lost in his memories, as he tended to be more than ever now. No longer distracted by the constant screaming of the sirens in the barracks and the incessant voices of his teammates, he had too much time for his mind to rewind back to the old days. It wasn’t healthy—he knew that—but after decades of battle, he really didn’t have control over it.

  Ravi cleared her throat. Uh, Earth to the priest. What are you thinking about in there?

  He answered without thought. Ethan.

  And who is Ethan? Don’t tell me this is one of those “you joined the priesthood because of your gay lover” kind of things?

  Damian cleared his throat. No. Ethan was an old teammate. You might not remember him because you and I were not interacting much then. He was the first one I ever saw die. That was the moment I realized that none of us, and especially not me, was invincible.

  Ravi drew in a long breath. Oh… Well, I have never been any good at this whole comforting thing. It’s probably why I never became a mother. I have no patience for it. But I do know that if you ditch the coffee shit and replace it with a nice glass of whiskey, you will start to feel better in no time at all.

  He chuckled and snapped out of his reverie. Right. I don’t think they sell whiskey here.

  The demon scoffed. I’ll order you a flask.

  The priest looked around the busy streets and at the café. The people all wore their fall gear and talked happily to each other. Most carried umbrellas in case the weather turned. There were a few tourists there, but the place was so out of the way that most foreigners didn’t know anything about it. All the outdoor tables were simple metal, with plastic garden chairs. Inside, the place was furnished in oak, and the colors on the wall were dark maroons and burnt oranges.

  It was an incredibly low-key establishment, and Damian could see why Wally had picked it. He was very careful about where he met others, and what was said and done in public. In fact, the man was almost paranoid, but he couldn’t blame him after the sheer amount of history that he had learned from his work in the catacombs beneath the Vatican.

  Ravi sniffed. Hey, where is mini-you? I thought he was coming.

  Damian put his book on the table. No, this is information I want to see before I let him in on it. No reason to put the kid at risk if it doesn’t affect him. He stayed at the hotel to sleep in and eat breakfast.

  Breakfast and sleep sound nice. Maybe you wouldn’t sport so many wrinkles if you indulged a little more.

  Hey, these lines are proof of how hardcore I’ve been through the years.

  The demon sighed. So who is this guy we’re meeting?

  He took a sip of his coffee. Wally and I met a while back. I told you that part. Anyway, he has called me several times about different artifacts, and I have called him to get some history on cases. From there, we became friends. You know, friends that send Christmas cards and call on occasion but are always there when the shit hits the fan? I feel that this one, though, might be more than a once-a-year occurrence.

  What’s he like? Is he a super-godly “don’t tread on my Jesus” kind of Catholic priest?

  Damian chuckled into his cup. To an extent. He’s definitely devout, but he’s a nervous guy, quite young, and very good at heart. He has always wanted to do what we do but knows he isn’t cut out for it, so he does what he can from behind the scenes.

  She groaned. Nervous humans are ridiculous. Seriously, besides this little war, what do you have to be nervous about? No stalking overlords, no shiny man above wanting to crush you like a bug. You have trees, birds, and good food. Oh, and fashion. He works in an underground vault. How dangerous could things be for him?

  I don’t think it’s so much that he’s in danger as that he works around all those artifacts. He sees things that only a couple of other people ever see. I don’t know everything that is down there, but he’s told me about a few of them. Damian smiled as the waitress poured him another cup of coffee.

  Like what? Merlin’s hat? Ravi wasn’t impressed.

  The priest laughed. There are a lot of possessed items–things that have been taken from exorcisms when the demon is driven out and lands in an inanimate object. It’s more of a soul that lands there than a demon. The real truth is that demons don’t do dolls, not really. Then there are some stones that have been proven to have demonic spiritual powers and artifacts from the time of Christ. Most of those are hush-hush. There’re things that point to inaccuracies in the bible, and the Catholic Church can’t have that.

  She sneered. So, you mean the entire bible is down there? Because that thing is rife with falsehoods. Women living to be eight hundred or more years old? Pfft. Right.

  Damian realized at that moment how open and trusting he was with Ravi. It shocked him a little, but he figured there was a reason for it so he wouldn’t stop. It was actually pleasant to have some sort of relationship with the being inside him. He could understand Katie’s interaction with Pandora a bit better now, too.

  Just then, the chair across from him was pulled out, and Wally sat down. He wore a hat, a long, buttoned-up trench coat, and a pair of dark sunglasses.

  “You know that everyone is staring at you because you look like Inspector Gadget?”

  The other man removed his glasses and leaned forward. “I only wanted to get out of the city in one piece.”

  Damian smiled and reached his hand out to shake. “Good to see you, old friend. It’s been far too long.”

  Wally nodded nervously, and his eyes shifted constantly. “You too. You look good. I am still thrown off every time I see you without your priest get-up. They are so strict with us in the Catholic faith.”

  “They try to be with us, but what can they do? Fire me?” He shrugged.

  His companion snorted. “They wouldn’t give it a second thought where I come from.”

  Damian grinned. “So, how is everything?”

  The other man leaned back slightly and released a deep breath. “It’s been busy as hell, no pun intended. With all the incursions and openings, cult artifacts have come in from all over. Most of them are innocuous, merely kids playing at the game, but some can knock you on your behind if you aren’t careful.”

  Ravi giggled. Behind?

  He’s a Catholic priest. He doesn’t share my gift for colorful language.

  “And how about the demons in the Vatican City and Rome?”

  Wally shook his head and waited for the waitress to finish pouring his coffee. Once she’d walked away, he removed his hat and shrugged. “Vatican City is highly fortified, with sacred ground and blessings everywhere—even the McDonalds they recently built. We don’t really see much inside the grounds. Rome is getting pretty rough, though. I’ve seen infected all over the place. I learned how to spot them from you.”

  “Yeah, the old red eyes will give them away every time.” Damian snorted as he took a sip of his coffee. “Is the church helping to combat this?’

  His friend swallowed and smiled his satisfaction. “Mhmm. Oh, yeah. The Catholic Church has their own coalition of mercenaries, and there are the teams that live in Rome. They are definitely getting a workout.”

  “I don’t envy them. So, what did you bring me all the way out here for? Not that I don’t enjoy having coffee with an old friend.”

  Wally pulled a manila envelope from his pock
et and looked around before he slid it over. Damian opened it and pulled out a stack of papers. On the top were pictures of the stone his friend had mentioned. It would fit in the palm of a hand, was faceted, and glimmered with a deep red tone. Specks of black crystal-like sparkles could be seen throughout. He flipped through the pictures and read the information on where it had come from. The picture of the cardinal struck Damian, but he kept his face expressionless. It was the same straight-faced man he had seen in a picture with the three Wise Men when he’d met with them in the house down the street in London.

  “What do we know about this cardinal?” He glanced at his friend, who shook his head.

  “Not too much. He has always been under the radar and has never done anything to raise any eyebrows. He’s an unassuming man; kept to himself but was always seen close to someone in charge. When I saw him, he gave me the impression that he was the quiet voice whispering in the ears of the most influential men in the church before stepping back into the shadows. Still, he was incredibly devout and was known to spend days fasting and praying in the main church. It really didn’t make any sense to me why they would find a demon stone in his possession.”

  Damian raised his eyebrows and stared at the picture. “You would be surprised sometimes. These things can catch hold of you before you know it. Did he show any signs of possession or infestation?”

  Wally chuckled. “No, especially not on holy ground. The man was a pillar of the Catholic community. Someone would have noticed very quickly if he had become Damned.”

  The priest read through the list of the cardinal’s prior positions in the church. There had been a few times when he’d been sent to far-off places, but he’d always been called back to the Vatican shortly thereafter. What it didn’t say was by whom. “What do we know about this vacation he went on?”

  The other man sipped his coffee, a little more relaxed now. “Nothing more than that. He went on an extended vacation and left without a word. The church informed us.”

  Damian put the papers back in the envelope, folded it in half, stuck it in his jacket pocket, and leaned toward Wally. “I want you to find out where the cardinal went. If I know that, I can do a bit more research into this.”

  His friend pulled out a small pad and made some notes. “Sure thing.”

  He held back a smirk, seeing how excited Father Wally was to take the assignment. The man’s eyes glimmered. “I always wanted to be part of the action, but you know me. I’m more of a cave-dweller than an action hero. I’m more than happy to do something that will help you uncover more about this.”

  Damian reached across and patted Wally’s hand. “Heroes aren’t only on the front lines.”

  This seemed to satisfy him, and he already sat taller. “There are a few artifacts down there that came in after Incursion Day. They were among the first to be found. I’ll get you some information on those as well.”

  “That sounds good. Wally, I seriously want you to be careful with all this. You work for the most powerful church in the world and have to worry about more than demons. The church leaders don’t like it when people go snooping around or talking to others.” Damian frowned to emphasize his concern.

  “I know.” Wally nodded agreement, his face somber. “I’ve seen what happens. They don’t mess around when it comes to killing traitors or those who align with traitors. I’m always incredibly careful, anyway.”

  Damian smiled. “I know. You are probably the most careful person I’ve ever met.”

  Wally shoved his hat on. “I also don’t really have any friends but you, so there isn’t anyone but the mice under the Vatican to talk to, and they won’t spill the beans.”

  “Good. Now, when you get that information, I don’t want you to call me from the Vatican. I don’t want you to be traced or overheard. Someone will get the wrong idea, especially if this guy has been dabbling in Satanic rituals. You must keep your hands clean with this. If I have to meet with you again in person, I will. Just say the word.” Damian was serious. He didn’t want to get his friend killed.

  The other man pulled his phone from his pocket. “I get it. Hold on, let me take this call. Ciao? Sì, stavo solo prendendo un caffè con un amico. Certo. Ci sarò tra venti minuti. Sì, signore.”

  He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “I have to get back. Apparently, there is a new shipment, and they need me to run some rushed tests as soon as it hits the basement floor. It didn’t sound like the normal demonology studies, though. Might be another crying statue. We get those like five times a month. It’s always something either man-made or which has a leak in a hollow part of the statue.”

  “That doesn’t sound interesting in the least.” Damian sipped his coffee, hiding his smile.

  Wally stood and donned his glasses. “It’s boring until you find something that completely stumps you. When science fails, we turn to the religious possibilities. It’s probably not a method that others would recommend, but it works for the church. Sometimes, I think I’m merely there for show. They’ll say whatever they like, regardless of my findings.”

  Damian stood and gave his friend a hug. “At least you get to work in safety. Think of the positives. Keep your ears open, and keep me in the loop about anything strange that they might talk about.”

  The other man tilted the brim of his hat. “Will do. I want you to do the same for me. Not only will it keep me informed, but it’ll help with the research I do. I can always use that.”

  He smiled and watched as Wally waved and hurried off to catch a cab. Thoughtful, he sat again and ran his fingers over the pocket in his jacket holding the information. He wasn’t sure what they would discover. The church was really good at hiding things, but he was beyond curious. And since Wally had now put his life on the line, he apparently was too.

  Chapter Two

  The air was cool and the sky a vivid blue. It was a beautiful day in Rome, so Damian decided to walk back to the hotel. He pulled the papers out and began to scan the information as he walked. There was something strange but also familiar about the stones. Frustratingly, he couldn’t put his finger on it. He flipped to the picture of the cardinal and studied it, noting the menacing look on the man’s face but consciously trying not to read too much into it. After all, he had been the victim of several bad photographs himself.

  One thing was certain—at the time the picture was taken, there was no demon inside the cardinal. Either he had been the victim of an unfortunate plot against him, or he had turned his back on the church. Either way, Damian wanted to know more about it. It wasn’t something he could simply shrug off, especially after seeing him in the picture with the Wise Men.

  Ravi sniffed her disdain. Oh, he looks pleasant.

  Damian folded the papers and put the envelope in his pocket. I know. There has to be more to this story than it appears, though. Men of that nature don’t simply turn against God. They are devout, and capable of holding back some of Lucifer’s worst attacks.

  Or he was never as devout as people thought.

  He shook his head. I don’t know. That is a long time to pretend and never get caught.

  Right. But if a man can be that devoted to God, what makes you think he can’t be to Satan?

  You’re right. I’m letting my bias cloud my judgment. I’ll keep an open mind on this. He released a deep sigh of irritation.

  She asked after a moment, Are you going to tell the kid?

  Damian thought about it for a second. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Max, but he also knew that with some things, ignorance was safer. No, not yet. This is very dangerous information, and we are walking on hot coals. The Catholic Church is nothing to be trifled with, and we know they’re not above silencing a problem. If history has taught us anything, it’s that a man will use God’s name for any action if he convinces himself that it’s the right thing to do.

  His demon scoffed. That doesn’t only apply to humans. I’ve seen my fair share of angels do that in the past too.

&nbs
p; Startled, he stopped walking. What do you mean?

  She coughed nervously. Nothing. I’m merely saying there are no perfect creatures. As far as Max is concerned, I think you’re right to keep this from him.

  Damian could tell Ravi wouldn’t elaborate on the angel comment. He nodded and continued toward the hotel. I think that this is a need-to-know situation. Nothing may ever come out of it, and until it’s necessary for him to be in the loop, I’ll keep it under wraps.

  He entered the hotel and nodded at the front desk clerk. On his way to his room, he decided to walk next door and see Max first. The door was propped open slightly, so he knocked and walked in. He rounded the corner, stopped, and tilted his head to the side as he stared at the young priest who lay on the bed watching the Weather Channel. “Are you always the epitome of a priest? Fifty channels and you’re watching the British weather station?”

  The trainee shrugged and turned the volume off. “Most of the channels were in Italian, and the rest were either really bad made-for-television love stories or cooking shows. I am starving, so I decided against cooking shows, and I’m not really a romance kind of guy.”

  Damian looked at the screen and shook his head. “So you settled on information about London’s rainy season. Isn’t that all year long, unless the rain turns to snow?”

  Max sat up. “It’s actually pretty interesting. The prevailing warm, moist westerly winds mean that the west of the UK is more likely to receive precipitation from Atlantic weather systems in the form of frontal rainfall. These weather systems usually move from west to east across the UK, and as they do so, the amount of rainfall they deposit decreases exponentially. It even told me about—”

  The priest put his hands up. “Look, Larry Sprinkle, I really don’t need to know about the weather until it starts raining hellfire. At that point, you can break it down for me, okay?”