by ML Guida
“Because I want you to hear me out before you call me a liar.”
“So talk.” She inched the letter opener close until she felt the cool metal against her palm and wrapped her fingers around it.
“A Ouija board conjures up spirits or, in most cases, demons. You don’t want to mess with it. But unfortunately for Natalie, the man who gave her the board is not a man.”
She blinked. “What?”
“He’s a demon. Actually, second to Lucifer. He’s deadly. For some reason, he’s staked out this house and wants these kids’ souls.”
“You’re crazy.”
Sadness flashed in his eyes. “If only I were—”
He stepped away from the door. Abigail snatched the letter opener and stepped around Hamilton’s desk. “Stay away from me.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that Natalie changed into a raging zombie, attacked her best friend, and killed a police officer? Is that a common occurrence here in Frisco?”
Her hand shaking, Abigail pointed her weapon. “Stay back.”
He held up his hands, his palms facing her. “You have to listen, Red.”
“Stop calling me that! You’re insane. I’m going to tell Hamilton.”
He lunged over the desk and seized her wrist, holding the flimsy knife. She couldn’t believe how fast he was. He yanked her to his chest. She pounded on him, but it was as if she was slamming her fist on a steel wall. “Release me.”
She stared at his hand holding her wrist. The memory of Martin flashed in front of her. Martin had dug his fingers into her flesh, hurting her, and forced her hands over her head. He had forced her on the back of his bed. Before he…she pushed the horror back. She blinked back tears blurring her vision. “I mean it. Release me, you bastard.”
Blade loosened her fingers, and the letter opened dropped to the floor. “Red, I’m not going to hurt you, but you’ve got to listen to me.”
She was surprised her wrist didn’t hurt. He could have snapped her wrist in half. “What? That there’s a demon running loose in Frisco and he gave these kids…a—”
“A zombie board.”
“A zombie board? You’re crazy.”
Blade maneuvered her and set her down in Hamilton’s chair. “You heard right—a zombie board. Balthazar will—”
“Balthazar? That’s his name?”
He stood. “Yes. The zombie board is from Hell. Created by Ringmaster.”
“Ringmaster?”
He walked over to a window and peered outside. “Yeah, another demon. He’s what you call Hell’s little inventor of nasty gadgets.” He faced her. The brown of his eyes had darkened, and Abigail could feel the boards cracking beneath his feet. He really believed what he was saying which sent warning tingles all over her. People had been placed on a mental health hold at St. Anthony’s for less.
“Blade, you’re insane. You need help.” She didn’t want to believe him. It was a nightmare. Demons?
“So, if I’m lying, explain to me how Natalie could buck me off her, and how three full grown men couldn’t keep her down?”
She wrung her hands in her lap and glanced down at her bloody shirt. She didn’t know of any narcotic that could give Natalie superior strength and make her hallucinate into thinking she was a full fledge zombie, actually eating the flesh of a full grown man. “But demons? A board straight from hell? How could this be true?”
“Once the Zombie Board is given to a person, it starts to work. Its purpose is to turn the owner and anyone who touches it into zombies—into killers.”
She tried to comprehend what he was saying, and realization splashed her in the face like a bucket of rain water. “Wait, Brayden.”
Blade held her gaze and nodded.
She shook her head. “No, it can’t be.” He sighed and grumbled. She wanted him to give her one of his devilish smiles and tell her it was all a joke, that he made it up, just to make her mad, to tell her how beautiful she was, but his deep scowl refused to turn into a teasing grin, his body tense. “If what you’re saying is true—”
“Red, the minute those kids touched the board, they pledged their souls to Balthazar.”
Chapter Six
Blade gritted his teeth. Damn Balthazar! Why did he have to pick this treatment center? Did he know Raphael’s plans to send him here? Or more likely, Raphael suspected Balthazar’s plan. And where the hell was the meddler?
Abigail studied him looking at him as if he were one step away from the insane asylum.
She spun around in Hamilton’s leather chair and faced the door. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair, her knuckles turning white. “I am having a hard time believing this. I don’t even know if I believe in God, let alone a devil.”
“So, you never questioned where you got your healing power?”
She avoided his gaze. “I’m not the only person with healing abilities.”
“No, you’re not. Many people throughout history have been psychokinetic, telepathic, clairvoyant—the list goes on and on and on.” He walked over to the door and leaned against it, blocking her escape.
Her lower lip trembled. He winced. She was frightened of him, and it hadn’t been his intention to terrify her. He wanted her to believe him. “Red, those abilities came from somewhere.” Humans never wanted to believe what was right in front of their eyes, always hunting for a rational explanation, especially the damn medical field. A little knowledge was enough to blind man to the truth.
Balthazar always said that’s why humans were so easily mislead, easily deceived, and easily corrupted. He had instructed Ringmaster to invent a drug that would possess all three. Ringmaster had outdone himself in inventing the Hellish drug Xanadu. Once a human smoked or inhaled Xanadu, they become psychotic, killed the nearest person, and then, filled with remorse, killed themselves. Balthazar had ordered Blade to sell it to humans in an exchange for him becoming a demon. Blade had jumped at the chance. One now he regretted.
“What? You’re saying some psychic abilities come from Satan?”
“Absolutely.”
Hurt flashed in those emerald eyes. “You mean like me healing you? That came from Satan?”
“No, I don’t think healing abilities come from Lucifer. Lucifer likes subtlety and deception.”
“Subtlety?”
He nodded. “Like automatic writing.” She raised her delicate eyebrow. “People write to a loved one as if they were alive—an easy way for a demon to answer and pretend to be the loved one. Trap the human into trusting them and eventually possessing them or getting the human to promise the demon their soul.
“You make it sound terrifying.”
“It’s worse than terrifying. Something made out of nightmares.”
“How do you know this?”
Doubt reflected in her eyes and her lip curled up; she had trouble accepting the zombie board, even after witnessing Natalie’s transformation into a zombie straight out of hell. She’d scream if she knew the truth. He shrugged. “I’ve been around.”
“So, basically, you’re not going to answer me.”
“Are you going to run out of here screaming?”
She bit her lip and held his gaze. “No. I still don’t know if I believe you.”
“Meaning?”
“But just in case you’re right—”
He sneered. “Your faith is overwhelming.”
“Look, Blade, this is hard to swallow. I still need to sort this out. Will you give me time to think?”
“In the meantime, your brother’s soul is in danger of being pledged to a demon. Once pledged, Balthazar doesn’t give up a soul. He’s not the forgiving kind.”
“Wait.” She sat taller in her chair. “How do you know a demon by his first name? You make it sound like you know him personally.”
He refused to divulge his secret. “I had a client who made the mistake of tangling with him through astral projection.”
“You mean an out-of-body experience when a soul becomes separate from the phys
ical body?”
“Balthazar slipped into the man’s body and ordered other demons to capture the man’s soul. For him, it’s an acid trip. He rode the man’s meat suit hard, twisting it into odd positions until skin cracked, muscles tore, bones broke. He forced the poor bastard to put his hands into fire, turning his hands into blackened stumps.”
Her eyes widened. “Is that what happened to you?”
He clenched his fists. “No, not even close.”
“So, how did—”
Done answering her perceptive questions, he opened the door. “I’m going to search this house.”
She jumped out of the chair and hurried toward the door, careful to keep out of his reach. She focused on the hallway. “For what?”
“The damn board. What else?”
“You actually think it’s here?”
“Yeah, I do. Hiding. It’s probably in the next victim’s room, luring the person to use it again.”
She wet her luscious lips. “You think it’s in Brayden’s room?”
“Take me to his room. Or do you want him to turn into a ravaging zombie like Natalie?”
She scanned his face.
Blade held his breath, hoping she would trust him, give him a chance. The air seemed stifled. Sweat broke out on his back, his shirt clinging to him. Why was he so determined to help this woman and her brother? Sure, he wanted to throw her on the ground and have his way with her curvaceous body, but he felt something else, something he’d never experienced not even with Samantha. Had she changed him somehow when she’d healed him? What the hell was going on?
She chewed on her lower lip. He wanted to kiss those pouting lips and, at the same time, shake her into making a decision, but he stood still as stone. Abigail was a shy doe, any minute ready to flee into the woods at the slightest hint of a hunter. He was more than a hunter. He wanted to feast on her, lick her skin, taste her feminine sex.
She lowered her arms. “Fine. I’ll take you to his room.” She skirted past him, and over her shoulder, she said, “You know Brayden’s going to be pissed we are going through his room.”
He followed her down the hardwood hallway and up the tan carpeted stairs. With each step, her tight ass swayed, tempting him. A smile spread across his face. He’d love to massage it with his hands, listen to her groan. “Just show me where it is. I’ll find it. You don’t have to be involved.”
Whirling around, she stood on a stair higher than him and only came up to his pecks. She tilted her head up. “What are you staring at?”
He stared at her lips, wanting to kiss her and wrap his arms around her, pulling her close to him. “Your sweet ass, Red.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I’d appreciate it if you’d start acting like a professional.”
“Sure, captain.” He saluted her. “Lead on.”
Abigail mumbled under her breath and led him onto a landing. To the right, there was a day room with two leather sofas, a loveseat, and a recliner. Hamilton appeared to be having a meeting, trying to console the kids. Brian and two other staff members stood on either side of him like sentinels. Girls huddled on the carpet floor, hugging each other and crying, while boys sat on the furniture. Brayden sat on the wooden window ledge that had a couple of white pillows and stared out the bay window. His arms hung loose to his side and a vacant look filled his eyes.
“I know you’re all worried about Natalie and Callie, but we’ve got to pull ourselves together. You’re safe here. No one’s—”
“How can you say that?” One of the girls cried. She had short, black hair and brown skin. “You saw what happened.” She held Mr. Tibbs in her arms and laid her head on the cat’s head. “What had Natalie taken?”
“Maria, I don’t know.” Hamilton ran his hand through his hair. “But if anyone knows anything, you’ve got to tell us now.”
“I don’t know anything,” Maria said.
Abigail took a step toward the day room. “I should—”
Blade grabbed her arm. “No, show me the room. Then you can come back here.” He pulled her closer and pressed his mouth against her ear. “Let me save your brother’s life.”
Her face turned white and she nodded. “This way.”
He released her arm and put his hand on her back to maneuver her away from the group. He needed to find the zombie board, but he was human now. Could he find it? Without his powers, he could look right past any object from heaven or hell.
Abigail entered the nearest bedroom. A poster hung on the wall of Jessica Alba wearing only a scanty pair of underwear and a camisole rolled up to her breasts as she sat on a counter. Another one had her sprawled out naked on a bed with a white blanket shielding her frontal nudity, but what caused him to pause was the poster of a green-haired Heath Ledger dressed as the Joker. Next to Ledger's face were the words ‘Why so serious?’ painted in what looked like dripping blood. “Take it your brother likes Jessica Alba and Batman.”
“Obviously. He can’t have posters depicting drugs, so this is the compromise.” She gestured to the Heath Ledger poster. “Batman was his favorite movie. He was torn up about Heath Ledger overdosing. He was his hero.”
Blade studied the poster, trying to see if he could glimpse into Brayden’s psyche and figure out why Balthazar was so focused on him. “The Joker or Ledger?”
“Sometimes I don’t know.”
A closed laptop with the same words painted in red written on it sat on a twin bed. A small student desk was against the window along with a three drawer dresser. Another stripped twin bed was against the opposite wall. “He’s got a roommate?”
“No, but he did. Tim graduated from the program about a week ago. Brayden will be getting another one again.” She waved her arm around the room. “So, where do you want to look? He doesn’t have much in here. The computer is not connected to the internet. If he wants to access the internet, he has to be on level three and a staff member has to monitor his surfing. He’s got an iPod, but it was confiscated when Brayden was listening to music promoting drugs and violence. I have it at home. Otherwise, he just has these posters and his clothes. Not much else.”
“No books or games?”
She shook her head. “No. Brayden likes to play Halo, Call of Duty, and Assassin’s Creed, which are not allowed on the premises.”
“So, what do you want him to play? Disney games? Or Twilight games?”
Anger flooded in her eyes. “All of the patients here need to learn how to cope with their feelings without resorting to violence or drug and alcohol addiction. As a counselor, you should know this. Why? Did the facility you work at allow patients to play these games? Had much of a success rate, did you?”
Ignoring her, he scanned the room and held out his hand. In hell, Balthazar had treated him as his apprentice, teaching him hell’s secrets. It gave him great pleasure to have one of Michael’s special elite forces change sides. He learned quickly how to channel his angelic powers into demonic powers. The zombie board had always sent spider chills up and down his spine when he had been near it in Hell, but he felt nothing. He’d also been a demon down there not a human. Shit, thanks Raphael.
“So, what? You think it’s going to jump out and land in your hand.”
He bristled and dropped his hand. “Go back to the meeting. I don’t want Brayden coming in here while I’m searching his room.”
“Too late, asshole.”
Blade tensed and turned around.
“Brayden,” Abigail gasped.
Brayden stood in the doorway with his fists clenched and a surly look on his face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“We were uh,” Abigail stammered.
“Save it.” Brayden pointed toward the hallway. “This is my room. Get out.”
Blade held his fierce gaze. “No.”
Confusion fluttered in Brayden’s eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Blade.” Abigail wrung her hands and glanced between him and Brayden.
Blade tilted his head. “Abi
gail, if you can’t help me search, then go.”
Her eyes blazed. “We could ask—”
Blade studied Brayden’s blustering face. “He’d lie.”
Brayden puffed out his chest. “No, I—”
Blade held up his hand. “Stuff it.” He turned to Abigail. “Either help me search or leave. Your choice.”
Brayden glared at Abigail with pure hatred. “You’re such a bitch.”
Abigail lowered her head, her glorious hair falling around her.
Blade heard a sniff and snapped. He grabbed Brayden’s arm and lifted him three feet off the floor.
“Put me down.” Brayden beat on his hands, terror replacing the hatred in his eyes.
Blade pulled him close until they were nose-to-nose. “Say it again and see what happens.”
“All right, all right.” Brayden nodded his head.
Blade released him but held onto the back of his shirt. “Call for it.”
Brayden licked his lips. “Call?” He stretched out his arms. “Call for what?”
Blade hoisted him an inch off the floor. “The board. Call for it.”
“What?” Brayden asked, his voice shaky.
“You know the name of it,” Blade whispered.
“Blade, you’re acting insane,” Abigail said.
Blade ignored her. She didn’t know what insane was.
Brayden glanced at Abigail and at Blade. He trembled beneath Blade but refused to cower. “If you know so much, why don’t you call for it?”
Blade twisted his shirt, and Brayden put his hands on his throat. “I can’t breathe.”
“Then call for it. I know the name. The board only answers the call of its new master. Call it.”
Brayden swallowed. “Okay fine. Osiris.”
Blade released Brayden’s shoulders and waited. He scanned the room. The air didn’t turn cold. The lights didn’t flicker. The board didn’t appear.
“I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.” He opened the closet doors and looked on the top shelf, but it was completely empty except for some dust bunnies. Sweat shirts and T-shirts hung in the closet. A couple had the Batman logo on it, while others had AC/DC. He pushed the clothes to either side to inspect the floor—just a couple of pairs of tennis shoes and a pair of hiking boots.
