by CT Knight
Contents
Order of Chaos
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
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Order Of Chaos
The Pendragon Agency
By
C.T. Knight
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
No part, section or chapter from this book may be reproduced in any capacity outside of the original work without author’s written consent except where brief quotes are used for review.
Copyright © 2017 CT Knight
CHAPTER 1
I felt like I’d been jumping over trash cans, pushing past pedestrians, and dodging cars all night. Keeping track of how many blocks we’d already run was completely out and my cardio ability wasn’t what it used to be. Toe to toe, I was fine. But long distance? I had to admit, I was impressed with myself considering how long I’d kept it up. But it was wearing on me. And the demon I was chasing didn’t ever seem to tire.
This particular demon was a familiar. A weird little opposite of human familiars. Instead of people being lap dogs for the macabre, these guys were lap dogs for humans. I don’t care where you’re from, there’s always someone stronger. And when a human mortal can make a demon cower in fear just by yelling at it, you know you’re dealing with a bottom of the barrel spawn of Hell.
I tried yelling ‘stop’, but this familiar was clearly more afraid of something or someone other than me.
A client once asked me why I didn’t use magic like everyone else. I guess he figured a detective of the arcane would be all about spell-casting and wizard work. I told him being taken over by a feudal warlord wasn’t my idea of a good time. That was the risk I took any time I used magic. One body—mine—two souls. And the second one was a feudal warlord whose name I didn’t even know. Any time I used magic, he could take over, making me a spectator in my own body.
And to top it off, if the warlord came out, so did the spirits of those he’d killed in the past. And all of them wanting revenge. Of course, I learned all that before my professor kicked my ass with a bamboo cane for using the summoning spell that put me in this position in the first place. Needless to say, I never got another call from that client.
My job as a freelance—well, I guess you would call it—occult detective, has shown me some pretty strange things. Vampire feedings. People who change into animals. And witches who, if I may, look like they belong on magazine covers. I’ve even dealt with threats of ancient gods plotting to destroy the Earth. You know. Everyday stuff for New York City.
So many of my cases would be solved in less than a day if I’d just use magic like a normal occult detective. The problem is, every time I use the stuff, it gets harder to put that warlord back in the bottle. I don’t know if he’s getting stronger or if I’m getting weaker. Either way, I put more faith in magically infused objects that can be activated with a word or phrase. It’s a nice little workaround that lets me use spells without using any spells.
In summation, I use magic, warlord gets out, angry spirits war with him, world ends in ruins. That’s the short of it. The long explanation usually doesn’t make sense to my clients who really don’t want to hear it anyway. Besides, what good is an occult detective if he doesn’t do occult things? So I whisper the right words to my gun and it usually does the job. It also helps that I’m a pretty decent shot. Though, tonight I wasn’t especially accurate. Maybe because of the triathlon this familiar had me running.
My client needed to know who stole her cat. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t take what really amounts to something even the police would ignore but my client’s account of a man with icy blue eyes breaking into her house suggested something more than human. A description like that could mean only one of two things. Either some prankster with contact lenses broke into her home or the cat-napper was a demon. Lucky me it was the latter. Otherwise I’d be looking at a massive lawsuit and an assault with a deadly weapon charge for shooting a human. And I already owed too much money to too many people to add a lawsuit or bail fee to my debts.
Rounding another corner, I heard the thump of bass music. Flashing lights strobed out of the doorway to a club half a block away. It must have been a popular spot. The place still had a line out the door. Must be nice to have a constant clientele. I guess it was the kind of place where all the cool kids like to hang. Guys in their sport coats and dress shoes. Ladies in their skirts or tight jeans. Every one of them looked like they couldn’t wait to change out of those dressy clothes that they were just going to sweat right through the harder the DJ played. Clothes that were far different from those the demon familiar was wearing—or my clothes for that matter. The ratty looking hoody was big enough to obscure the demon’s features. And my leather jacket, dress shirt and pants made me look like a stuffy accountant still trying to relive some far-off glory days. Even so, it was good that the familiar was mostly covered because if anyone in that club saw him, they were going to clear out real fast and then the place would probably be permanently boarded up.
Even though I was tired of running, I hoped he’d run right by the line of probably already liquored up clubbers. I wanted the break but going into that place with a tight crowd of people? Someone was bound to get hurt and I was bound to lose him. Unfortunately, he had other ideas and barreled right through the bouncer and into what I had no doubt was a crowd of bodies all moving chaotically on the dance floor. It was the perfect prelude to how the rest of the night would go.
I would have sighed but I barely had enough breath to spare.
CHAPTER 2
I lowered my gun to my side and stepped over the bouncer. I didn’t want to scare people any more than the demon might already have. The clubbers were already giving me funny looks, mostly due to my form of dress. Not to mention, there was no way to tell who else might have had a gun in their pants, pocket or purse. New York had some pretty strict laws about that sort of thing but that didn’t stop people from packing. And it sure wasn’t going to stop me. Not in my line of work. Still, I wanted to keep a low profile with my weapon.
The music was, of course, louder on the inside. How people could listen to that racket was beyond me. Call me old if you had to but I was always more of a classic rock or jazz kind of guy. It was just the way I was raised. Give me a local music venue with a decent guitarist or a lounge with a great piano player any night of the week, but this? This was teeth-rattling, heart-pounding noise. Still, it must have been good for something. Baby making, judging by the way some of those people were dancing.
I weaved my way through the throng of dancers, keeping my eyes out for anyone that wasn’t moving in time with the beat. Those dancing without rhythm got a pass, of course, and there were plenty of them. All the clubbers might have looked good, but more than a few of them needed dance lessons.
I made my way right to the center of the floor. I was glad it was a one story place. The whole club was dim but bright at the same time. Whenever my eyes would adjust to the dark, a burst of light would cause the whole process to start over again. It was hard enough to make out the details of party goers. Finding the familiar was like— well, I don’t mean to sound cliché but…finding the familiar was like—Ah
, needle. Hay. The only saving grace was that I’d finally gotten a break to catch my breath. Though the wall shaking bass was doing everything it could to collapse my lungs.
It was actually a lucky break that the familiar ducked into the club. Demons get this weird little charge from sin. And the place was full of so much vice, there was no way the familiar was just going to run out the back door. Assuming he could find it in the first place. Now, I’m not saying that everyone in the club was a sinner. Well, not any more than the average person. Most of the patrons in the place were just there to dance and have a good time. But from what I saw, there were certainly enough people in there looking for a lot more. Some came to fight. Others just to booze it up. Of course, those who were grinding on each other were there for one very obvious reason. And while it wasn’t my problem, I had no doubts there were others there for more sinister purposes. Any of those things would have kept the familiar inside for a minute. But the combination of those? I probably had a solid three to five minutes to find the demon and get what I needed. I just hoped there was no one I knew in that place. Otherwise it was going to be a very embarrassing reveal that I was tracking down a missing cat. I would lose every informant I’d worked so hard to accrue.
A hand touched my shoulder. I turned, thinking I finally had the guy. Though, why he would give himself up after so much trouble was beyond me. To my pleasant surprise and misfortune, the seeker of my attention was not the familiar but a woman. Her black hair stopped just below her jawline with her side-swept bangs covering nearly half of her face. The way she moved, she was extremely hard to even fathom looking away from. She was the best dancer in the place by far, whether she knew it or not. A spot light lit her up. It was brief but long enough to take in the full sight of her, head to toe. Her skirt wasn’t much different than the other women in the place. Her shirt had a low neckline— nothing trashy but certainly appealing. I watched as she raised her arms in the air and spun around, revealing her bare back. My typical human male side was captivated but my detective side caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the back of her neck. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was but there was something familiar about it.
When she turned to face me, I almost lost it. Her smile was the prettiest thing I’d seen in a long time. Not only was she the best dancer but she was also the best-looking woman in the room. That fact she must have known because she grabbed my free hand and put it on her hips as she moved them. Then she placed both her hands on my shoulders and leaned into my ear. I thought I heard my name but the music was too loud for me to be sure.
A sound of collective panic snapped me out of whatever alluring trap the woman was putting me under. I turned to the bar and saw patrons scooting back from it, tripping and falling into others. So many people were knocking into one another, there was bound to be a fight soon. But I had my own issue to worry about.
I watched as the floor rose and cracked just in front of the bar. I was afraid I knew why. Shoving past the intoxicating woman wasn’t easy but my sense of duty and pride in my job was stronger. But not by much.
I worked through the dancers, trying carefully not to shove them or start any altercations of my own. Pushing through them, I just couldn’t help myself. I turned back for one last look at the alluring woman. I expected her to have already moved on to the next closest guy but instead I saw her staring back at me, barely even moving anymore. Her mouth formed the words ‘I need you’. Of course, that could have just been me being hopeful. Whatever she said took my attention away from the task at hand. Her pull was intense. Far greater than any other woman in the club. And don’t get me wrong, there were a lot of lookers in the place. But this one…I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Several screams came from the bar and she snapped her attention in that direction. I spun back around and watched as a hooded figure launched itself out the window next to the bar.
Duty called.
I dashed forward, less concerned now with who I pushed. As long as I didn’t shoot anyone, they would be fine. One look at the floor in front of the bar gave me some concern. Especially the hole in it. It was easy to forget that even the low-level demon familiars were far stronger than humans. The crumbling concrete edge of the hole this one had burst through was a testament to that. Why they cowered as they did was a mystery.
After the shock of something bursting through the floor, people had cleared enough space for me to climb on a stool then up to the bar where I could poke my head through the busted-out window. I looked left, then right. There it was, getting up from what must have been a bad fall. The familiar should have been well out of the alley and half a block ahead after that lead but it was limping. It was the lucky break I needed.
My shoes crunched on glass shards all over the alleyway pavement. I figured there were probably people watching through the window, trying to figure out what was going on so I let the demon get a head a little ways, following him to a side street. I didn’t have to run as hard which was just fine with me. A light jog was all it took and at that point, one well-placed shot would have done the trick of stopping him, entirely. But with its limp, I wasn’t sure it would be worth the cost of a bullet.
I erred on the side of financial responsibility and rushed the familiar.
My shoulder collided with its back, shoving the demon to the ground. Before it could even role onto its back, my gun was aimed at its head.
“I should shoot you just for making me run so far.” I said. “But that wouldn’t get me paid so—”
“You have more to fear than loss money, dirty wizard,” it said with more conviction than the lower tiers usually had. But I wasn’t completely surprised. There was a juvenile feud between human magic users and the denizens of the underworld. As far as they were concerned, magic was their thing. We stole it and have been taking credit for the stuff ever since. I don’t know how true that was nor did I know how long the disagreement had been going on. I do know it was way before my time.
“It’s coming,” the familiar continued. “It’s coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“There’s always something coming. Whether it’s trash like you or some calamitous monster. All I care about is what you did with the cat.”
The demon laughed. “Which one?”
It was a question I should have seen coming. “The one you stole from the little old lady on the Upper East Side.”
I’d seen a lot of different creatures of the night but this one’s smile was unnerving. Two rows of jagged teeth were in that crooked smile. Teeth and what I was pretty sure was a tuft of fur.
“Scrumptious-delicious. Chomp. Chomp,” it said, gleefully.
“You ate it? What am I saying, of course you did. Do you know what that cat was worth?” I was more than ready to blow that things head off. “That would have squared a few debts.”
“Debts. Debts won’t matter. It’s coming. They are making sure of it.”
“Well, since you’ve cost me a payday and made me run on what’s turned into a wild goose chase, I might as well humor you. Who’s making sure it’s coming.”
The demon stared at me, eyes narrowed as if pondering whether or not it should say anything.
I was getting impatient. “Look, whatever ‘it’ is, if it’s coming, then it doesn’t matter whether or not you tell me, right? So, you might as well spill it.”
The familiar smiled again. “Filthy wizard. You don’t know real magic. You don’t know—”
I just pulled the trigger. I was tired and that thing wasn’t saying anything. It was a waste of a bullet. And with no cat to show, I wasn’t getting paid. Which made it even more of a waste. Especially since it had been magic infused. Those things were expensive. I really should have carried regular bullets on me. There were so many times when those were enough.
There was no sense in dwelling on it. One less demon in the world was a good thing. I had to chalk this one up as a win. Though, I really wasn’t looking forward to the phone call I was goin
g to have to make to my client. Failing at a case just made for bad reviews. Even in my uncommon detective business.
“Let’s get this over with.” I put away my gun and pulled out my phone. “Hi, Mrs. Donovan? This is Arthur Pendragon. How are you?” She answered with a haughty tone in her voice, as though she was superior to everyone else. “Yes, ma’am, that’s actually why I’m calling. Your cat is…well…” I just wanted to go home and have a stiff drink.
CHAPTER 3
Pendragon Agency Private Detective. That’s what it said on the door. Arthur Pendragon is what it said on the license. No relation. Though, I did hold Excalibur once. I learned two things from that experience. One, most occult historians think it was a powerful source of magic. There’s no magic there. Which just proves my theory that most occult historians don’t know what they’re talking about. If the arcane book is less than five hundred years old, it was the wrong book. Two, people back then were ridiculously strong because swords are heavy. Heavy, kinda of like my legs after that chase.
Mrs. Donovan was not a happy lady. Despite the fact that I’d been on that case for two days with no resolution, I told her there was no charge but let’s be honest, the case was solved. There was no charge because she didn’t get her cat back. Not one of my proudest moments but then I was about to try and get black-out drunk and forget the last couple of hours which also wasn’t going to be a proud moment.
I poured and drank. One for me then another for Mrs. Donavan’s cat. At least, that’s what I told myself. After downing the second drink, I took a look around my office as I often did after a case. Usually with thoughts on whether or not all of this was worth it. I could probably get a boring desk job with a normal salary and be content. But knowing about all the magic there was in the world and all those who abused it—not to mention the world ending events that got averted more often than humanity would be comfortable with— there was no way I could ever be normal. Especially since I’ve got that damn warlord spirit just waiting to get out.
