Demon Slayer

by R W Thorn

  Jack had just enough presence of mind to sheathe his blades under his trenchcoat. Then he wrapped his hands around Lennox’s waist and looked at her like he had been careful not to look at her before, with an expression akin to hunger. It was like lust and need and longing and anger all rolled into one, and Jack knew that his own, long-buried demon blood was rising in response to hers.

  “Jack, this is her demon. It isn’t her,” Amelia said, her ghostly voice urgent and worried in his mind.

  Jack ignored her. Lennox’s smile became proud and victorious, as if exalting at exactly how much under her spell she had him. Her nails were like claws digging into the back of his neck. She drew him even closer and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  It was like an explosion of pleasure the like of which he’d seldom felt before, not with Amelia, not with anyone, and his own need rose to meet her. Starting at his lips and tongue and working all the way down to his loins, it felt like every nerve he possessed was on fire.

  Dimly, he understood it was her demon calling out to his own, and deep down in his blood, that monster responded. He kissed her back just as hard, inserting his tongue, then crushed her against him in an expression of desire that couldn’t be misunderstood.

  He was no more than a heartbeat from giving in to his most basic need, and would have been willing to take Lennox there and then, outside the restaurant among the scattered tables.

  “Jack!” Amelia said, sounding desperate. It was the second time she had interrupted him at a moment like this, although this time it was real rather than the fevered imaginings of a man knocked unconscious.

  Jack snarled, unwilling to listen to his long dead wife. He wanted only to kiss Lennox again and again, until their demons rose up together and their passion was spent. Yet he closed his eyes and, with a supreme act of will, turned his head away.

  “No,” he said, denying not Amelia, but Lennox. It felt as if the word wrenched itself from his soul, as if he was denying himself his heart’s fondest craving.

  As soon as the word had been said, Jack sensed Lennox stiffen in shock.

  “What?” she demanded, her tone verging on anger.

  “You aren’t yourself,” Jack said, hearing the desperation in his own voice loud and clearly. He still didn’t look at her. He feared that if he did, all would be lost.

  She responded with a moment of absolute silence. The world held its breath in anticipation of what Lennox might say.

  “Not myself?” she said, and there was a hard edge to her tone that reflected the tension that had suddenly appeared in her arms. Instead of holding him seductively around the neck, she could now have been on the verge of trying to throttle him. Jack risked looking at her and could see the fire of fury in her eyes.

  The provocative Lennox had been replaced by a being of anger.

  Nor had she finished speaking. She was just winding up, and Jack figured he wouldn’t much like whatever she was going to say next.

  As much as he admired her fire and strength, Lennox’s spell had been broken. Jack’s own desires were all but forgotten. He tightened his grip on her waist to hold her in place and glared at her.

  “When was the last time you took your suppressant?” he demanded.

  For a moment, he feared Lennox might be too far gone. She snarled in anger and gripped him by the lapels as if she was going to head-butt him in the face, so he picked her up and shook her like she weighed no more than a doll.

  “Lennox! Get a hold of yourself!” he snarled. “Don’t let the demon take control!”

  Lennox let out a gasp of surprise at his actions. Yet she recovered swiftly. She looked at him with naked hatred, lunged for his face with fingers bent into claws, and uttered a shriek that reeked of madness.

  Jack shook her again. “Lennox! Don’t make me hurt you!” he shouted.

  She hissed and spat at him like a cat and struggled to reach him.

  He had no choice. Cursing in exasperation tinged with real fear for Lennox, he dumped her hard on the ground. She yelped like a dog and struggled to get back to her feet, but Jack moved too quickly. Taking no joy at all in his actions, he pushed her onto her back and placed a knee on her chest. At the same time, he caught her hands in his own.

  “Get off me!” Lennox yelled. “You disgusting, dirty wretch, take your filthy knee off me! When I get my hands on you –” she began, but she didn’t finish the thought. Instead, she snarled and started to chant in an ancient tongue that felt like fingernails tearing at the inside of his brain.

  “Stop it!” Jack shouted, and slapped her hard across the mouth. It was a stunning blow, and for a moment, Lennox was too dazed to continue her spell, too dazed to fight back.

  Jack swore under his breath and clamped one of his hands around both of her wrists. With the other, he reached into the pouch he wore at his waist and fumbled about for a vial of clear greenish liquid. As quickly as he could, he pulled the stopper with his teeth and tipped the contents into her mouth.

  Lennox’s expression turned into one of utmost disgust. It looked like she wanted to spit the liquid out. Jack clamped his hand over her mouth.

  “Swallow!” he commanded. There was no give in his words or expression. He offered her no choice at all. “It’s your suppressant. Swallow it!”

  Even as he said the words, he had no idea if it would do her any good. He feared that her demon blood had already gained too much control.

  Apologies

  Jack kept his hand clamped over Lennox’s mouth for what seemed like a long time. His muscles were locked into place to prevent her from struggling against him. To an observer, he would have appeared as rigid and unyielding as a statue, an unkempt man of strength with his knee on Lennox’s chest. He would have seemed to be a bully, a violent attacker, and any police that happened to pass would have arrested him without hesitation.

  Yet within him, Jack was a turbulent mess of emotion. In the two hundred years he had hunted creatures from Hell, he had become largely inured to the types of fears others had to endure. Jack held no concern for what might happen to himself, nor did the destruction of property make him anxious.

  However, he did still fear what might happen to others. His family. His wife. Many of those he’d grown close to during his life had met violent deaths, as others doubtless would in the future. But not on his watch. Not if he could do anything to prevent it.

  Normally, he translated that fear into anger and hate, and used it to strengthen his resolve in the face of the loathsome beings he battled.

  This time Jack wasn’t battling some loathsome being. This time, his foe was part of Lennox herself. He couldn’t help but fear that his efforts might be insufficient even as he hoped they were not. If Lennox was beyond redemption, if the demon had gained ascendancy, he also feared what he might have to do to her.

  But fear wasn’t Jack’s only response. As well, he was angry with himself that he hadn’t questioned her sooner. He’d had the chance. If Jack had said something when he first realized Lennox’s demon blood had started to gain control, then perhaps this could have been avoided. Lennox would have taken her suppressant by her own volition, and all would be well.

  Jack also hated himself for hitting her, despite the need to do so. He hated that he had to wrestle her to the ground and use his strength to physically hold her still. He was her protector and never meant to become her assailant. And, worse than everything else, Jack also hated how close he had come to giving into his own desires when it was obvious that Lennox was not herself.

  He knew that no matter what happened next, he would carry the memory of it all for the rest of his life.

  Jack couldn’t help but snarl in response to these mixed emotions. He felt as if he had become contemptible, as if his own actions had made him as vile and despicable as the monsters he fought. Yet he understood that he could not have done anything else. He understood that Lennox’s very humanity was at stake, and only time would tell if the suppressant would be effective or not.

&
nbsp; So he kept his weight firmly locked into place, and kept holding Lennox down, and hoped for the best.

  After several minutes had passed, Jack sensed her starting to relax.

  With some trepidation but increasing hope, Jack removed his hand from her mouth. “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  Lennox didn’t shriek at him in mindless fury, or scold him for placing his dirty paw over her face, or start to pronounce the words to a spell. But nor did she say something mocking or flirty with a raised eyebrow and playful grin.

  “I’m okay,” she said. But something in her tone didn’t ring true.

  “Check her,” Amelia said, her quiet voice tinged with suspicion.

  Loathing that he had to do so, Jack once more brought out his Daemon Ocularum. This time, he focused on Lennox, and as the familiar attributes list started to appear, Lennox let out a demonic shriek and started to buck and writhe.

  Jack didn’t need the device’s confirmation to know that the suppressant hadn’t worked, but just before he let go of it so he could use both hands to hold her down, he caught sight of the only part that mattered:

  Identity: Demon-human hybrid, Demon ascendant

  Lennox once more started to pronounce vile-sounding words of power. Jack had no choice. He hit her again in an effort to disrupt her, hard, then cursed out loud and wondered what he could do. Did the suppressant need more time to work? Or had it already failed?

  The thought that Lennox might already be lost to him was more than he could face.

  “Your ring!” Amelia almost shouted in Jack’s mind. “Put it on her! If I can get in her head, maybe I can help Lennox come back!”

  Jack had no other option. With Lennox still stunned by his latest blow, he removed his wedding ring for the first time in more than a decade and slid it onto her finger, acutely aware of the symbolism as he did and hoping desperately it would work.

  He thought the ongoing presence of Amelia’s ghost would wink out of existence for him immediately. He thought she would be gone until he replaced the ring on his finger. The runes carved on the back of that ring were an intrinsic part of how she maintained her presence, and it had to be in contact with his skin.

  Or at least, the skin of someone with demon blood in their veins. Like Lennox.

  But he could still sense her, if less clearly than usual. He could hear her calling Lennox’s name, pleading with her to fight, to come back, to not let the demon win. He almost thought he could sense the ghost of his wife rummaging around in Lennox’s mind the way she did in his, searching for memories or thoughts or even feelings she could use.

  The effect was immediate. The Lennox-demon began struggling against him with increasing fury and passion, and Jack had to use all of his strength to hold her down. Such was the demon’s rage that he caught only fragments of what Amelia said, but those fragments told him plenty.

  Amelia was enticing Lennox back using Jack himself as the carrot. Pimping him out to give her the strength she needed to fight.

  He didn’t know what to think of this approach. Nor did he have the time to worry about. He just held the Lennox-demon down and hoped for the best.

  “Come on, Lex! You can do it! Come back!” he grated. Then, because of Amelia’s words, he couldn’t help but add, “I need you to come back.”

  It worked. Amelia’s efforts, his own, or perhaps both together were enough. One moment Jack fought to keep the demon still, and the next it was Lennox beneath him. The change was subtle, but real. Jack watched as the fire of demonic madness in her eyes faded, and the light of sanity returned.

  “Are … are you okay?” he asked her again.

  This time, instead of answering directly, she turned her head enough so she could look away and gave a brief nod. She seemed embarrassed by what had happened. Too ashamed to look at him squarely.

  Jack relaxed a little, but didn’t yet let her up. “Are you sure? Your demon is under control?” he pressed.

  “I’m sure,” Lennox replied, her voice uncharacteristically meek. “Let me up. Please.”

  It was enough. From what he had seen of it, Jack didn’t believe that Lennox’s demon could feign meekness even if it wanted to. Lennox’s demon was elemental, a wild thing filled with passions and rage. Jack would not be surprised if it was a succubus whose blood resided in her veins.

  Subtlety wasn’t part of a succubus’s nature.

  Jack gave an affirmative grunt and released Lennox’s wrists. Then he took his weight off her chest and forced himself to stand despite his ongoing weakness. Yet he still moved cautiously. Despite the lack of warning from Amelia, he could be wrong. Lennox could still choose to attack.

  She didn’t. She slowly sat up and rubbed her wrists as if his grip had hurt her. At first, she didn’t look at him. Then she flicked a quick glance his way. Jack didn’t know if she felt humiliated or if she hated him for what he had done. It could as easily have been either.

  “Thank you,” Lennox said quietly. She still wasn’t really looking at him. “Although I gotta say, this isn’t really my idea of a fun date.”

  Jack could hear the attempt at humor in her voice. He gave her a grunt in response. Then, satisfied that she wasn’t feigning control and that the demon wasn’t lurking inside her, ready to pounce, it was his turn to bow to his shame. He turned away.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “What for?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

  Jack still didn’t look at her. “For everything. For not seeing it earlier. For hitting you. For…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but he was thinking of how he had responded to the overt lust displayed by Lennox’s demon. He felt more ashamed than at any other point in his life.

  For a moment, there was silence. Then he heard Lennox get to her feet. Her movements were less certain than they’d been with the demon in control. Perhaps the vitality-draining effects of the demon spawn had taken their toll.

  “Is everything bad that happens in this town your fault?” she asked. This time, Jack could hear an echo of her usual playful banter in her voice. He marveled at her resilience, but her words did little to mitigate his shame.

  Surprisingly, she placed a hand on his arm. It was so unexpected that he flinched a little. “Jack, for someone who has been walking the Earth for as long as you have, you can be an impossible idiot. I was gone for all money. The demon was in control. Completely.”

  Still standing behind him, she paused for a moment. “Jackson Kade, look at me,” she demanded. Her tone would brook no argument. He did so, and found to his surprise and confusion that she had regained part of her grin. “If you hadn’t hit me, if you hadn’t forced me to take the suppressant, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.”

  Lennox tilted her head to the side and held out her hand, offering back his ring. “That, and Amelia as well,” she added, giving him a searching look. “You didn’t tell me you carry her around with you wherever you go. Interesting woman, your wife. She said you still think of yourself as married,” she said. “But that you’re starting to get the idea.”

  Jack didn’t know what to say. He’d kept the existence of Amelia’s ghost to himself for so long mostly out of habit, but also because he’d never been completely sure she was real. A small part of him had wondered if she might be a figment of his imagination borne of loneliness and grief.

  He reached for his ring, but Lennox didn’t let it go. Instead, she stepped in close and arched her eyebrow in a way that was almost suggestive. “She also said I need only remind you that I don’t need your protection. Not from you, anyway.”

  The way she said it left Jack in no doubt what she meant. For a moment, he wondered if the demon within her was surfacing again, but her eyes were clear. Nor was she simply teasing him to see what he’d say. This was Lennox as he’d seldom seen her before, being serious and direct.

  Jack could deal with demons and madmen and monsters, but just at that moment, this was too much for him. Only moments earlier, he’d feared he’d l
ost Lennox completely. And now this.

  He shook himself. “Do you really think this is the time to talk about –” he began, but Lennox cut him off.

  “You’re right. This isn’t the time. So, how about you take your ring back, and when all this is done, we’ll try again. A proper date, with dinner, candles, the works. Somewhere nice. With plans for after as well. What do you say?”

  Jack didn’t know what to say. Nor did he have much time to think about it before Lennox grinned again and continued.

  “Amelia said she could be there as well, if you like,” she quipped. “And I don’t mind in the slightest. She seems like fun. Until then, where’s the tar man?” she asked, finally letting go of the ring.

  Jack took a moment to gather his thoughts. He nodded, thinking that perhaps it was best to focus on the task at hand, and slipped his ring back onto his finger.

  His connection with Amelia had faded since Lennox regained control, but now it returned. Jack felt his wife in his mind once again. He could sense how tired she was, how much effort it had taken for her to reach Lennox.

  Even so, she was laughing at his reaction to Lennox’s words, and she made the effort to speak.

  “I have to rest, now,” she said, sounding distant. “Try not to get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

  With that, she faded away.

  Jack offered an acknowledging grunt and responded to Lennox. “He got away,” he said. “But I know where he’s going. If you’re up to it, let’s get to it.”

  A Ducati in the Night

  Jack didn’t even think to retrieve his gun. In his mind, it was lost in the decomposing remnants of the Hell spawn upstairs. It could take forever to find it, and they simply didn’t have that much time. The tar man was already on his way to Madame Brigette’s. To learn what she might know about whoever murdered Samuel and stole the Daemonicon, Jack and Lennox would have to get to her as quickly as they could.