Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “No,” I said slowly. “Not yet, you’re not.”

  I looked at Belial and he met my eyes for the briefest second before we both yelled, “Strike!”

  Two shards of energy flew through the air and hit Edmond in the arms simultaneously. He cried out, dropping the child. She fell on the floor, wailing, and Belial opened fire. I dove for the girl, snatching her out of the rogue angel’s reach. Edmond threw up his energy shield and the bullets bounced off it, ricocheting into the walls. He dove for the bedroom door, smashing into the wall in the hallway as Belial gave chase. Now alone, I slid the closet door open and placed Juliana inside.

  “Mamãe! Eu quero mamãe!” the child sobbed. I cradled her face in my hands, making her look at me.

  “Stay here, Juliana,” I whispered in Portuguese. “No matter what happens, stay here. I’ll get you back to your mom, I promise.” I kissed her forehead and pulled the closet door closed, then raced towards the den where I could hear Belial and the rogue angel fighting.

  Edmond had Belial on his knees in a chokehold, knocking picture frames down as they struggled against the far wall.

  “Where’s the gun?” I yelled.

  “K-Kitchen,” Belial rasped, ramming his elbow into Edmond’s side over and over to try to get himself loose. I ran into the kitchen and found that the gun had gotten tossed under the table in the melee. I checked the chambers and found only four rounds left. Shit!

  I hurried back to the den, aimed the gun at Edmond’s head, and pulled the trigger twice. He ducked. The bullets missed by mere inches, biting into the wall behind him. He grabbed Belial by the arm and threw him at me. I tried to dodge, but Belial crashed into me, sending us backwards into the bookcase and knocking the record player over. The music stopped and everything suddenly felt much more real.

  Ignoring the pain lancing through my back and shoulders, I shoved myself upward and shot at the rogue angel again, but he recovered the knife he’d had and threw it at me. I ducked, which gave him enough time to kick the gun out of my hands. It landed with a heavy thunk on the carpet several feet away.

  I shoved the dazed Belial off my lap and brought up my forearms in a block as Edmond brought his heel down on my head in a powerful kick. I grabbed a broken chunk of the bookshelf and hit him in the left thigh, giving me a couple of seconds to stand as he stumbled backwards, hissing in pain.

  I helped Belial up and we both attacked. Edmond went into a defensive stance for the first few seconds of the vicious onslaught, blocking our kicks and punches with amazing speed, but I could see him beginning to tire. I aimed a kick at his left knee and it connected, forcing him to kneel. Belial executed a perfect roundhouse kick to the side of his face, knocking him down for a couple of seconds. The rogue angel spat blood onto the carpet and dove into a forward roll when we both tried to kick him. He pushed to his feet and reached into the pocket of his leather jacket, withdrawing a lighter.

  I lunged for him as he threw it in the corner of the room, tackling him off his feet. To my horror, the lighter hit the baseboard and sparked a fire that quickly spread, tracing the line of gasoline the rogue angel had poured through the entire place.

  “Belial!”

  “On it,” the demon answered, tearing off his duster and trying to beat out the flames as they spread.

  I wrapped my hands around Edmond’s neck and jerked him close, unable to stop the rage coursing through my veins at finally having the elusive bastard in my grip.

  “You tried to kill the woman I love,” I hissed into his face. “You will not leave this place alive.”

  “If that is my fate, then so be it.”

  He moved his left arm and that was when I saw it. I’d tackled him too close to where the gun had flown. He pressed the muzzle against my left shoulder and pulled the trigger.

  I screamed as pain ripped through my entire upper body and collapsed onto my back, clutching the bloody wound. It hurt so bad that bile rose in my throat.

  Edmond stood over me with the gun as I struggled onto my knees. I tried to push up onto my feet, but my left arm crumpled under my body like a useless twig. He pulled the trigger. It clicked empty, giving me just enough time to grab the knife on the floor and make one last-ditch effort to stop him.

  I plunged the knife into his stomach. The gun clunked to the floor. Hot blood poured from the wound onto my skin, painting it a dark red like some sort of sickening sculpture. For a few seconds, we just stood there staring at each other, inches apart. I expected to see fear in his brown eyes, but all I found was acceptance.

  The front door burst open and I heard the muffled voices of men in uniforms screaming, “Polícia!” through my ringing ears. I didn’t even flinch, too absorbed in the moment. Edmond sunk to the floor with the knife in his belly, still staring at me and saying nothing.

  Slowly, I lifted my hands in surrender and got on my knees as a numb feeling climbed up my body. Finally, I had stopped him. I had taken revenge on the man who tried to kill my wife. I should have felt something—relief, pride, satisfaction—but instead I felt nothing.

  Curious.

  Jordan

  * * *

  DETROIT METRO AIRPORT bustled with activity and the hurried pace of the travelers made me even more anxious than I already was. Thankfully, Gabriel was on hand to keep me calm and assure me we would find Lewis in time.

  He stood on the sidewalk next to me dialing Molly’s number while I tried to flag down a cab driver. We didn’t know where we were going, but we would need a ride and it was damned hard to get one right now with all these people around.

  After several tries, I managed to get a cab. I tossed our duffel bags in the back, telling the driver to give us a moment to figure out where we were going. Gabriel beckoned me when he got through to Molly, putting the call on speakerphone so I could hear.

  “Based on the high quality ingredients of the cologne, I was able to narrow it down to a perfume called Buena Suerte. It’s imported from Spain and there’s only one place that supplies it in the Detroit area. I’ll text you the address in just a moment.”

  “Thank you, Molly. Let us know if anything else comes up.”

  “I will.” Gabriel hung up and took a deep breath.

  “Alright, here is how this is going to work,” Gabriel said. “We have to get over to that store and find out who orders the cologne, who picks it up, and if there is an address attached. That should lead us to one of his lackeys and if we give him a good shakedown, we should be able to find Lamont’s headquarters. That is when I’ll call my friend at the precinct and see if we can get some officers down there.”

  His phone vibrated a moment later with a text from Molly. We got into the cab, heading into the city. Luckily, the place wasn’t very far so the ride was short. We got out on the corner, paid the driver to wait again, and paused to come up with a game plan.

  “They’re probably not going to give up this info easily,” I said. “We’re either gonna have to bribe or sweet-talk it out of them. And I’m guessing you’re better at seducing female sales clerks than I am.”

  Gabriel offered me a faint smile. “Sadly, that is more up Michael’s alley than mine, but I will try my best.”

  “Good man. Let’s go.”

  Gabriel had of course been too modest. The clerk fell in love with him on sight and he managed to schmooze the location of our henchman out of her. He was aptly named Jules Winnfield, another Pulp Fiction alias that proved we were on the right track.

  We left the shop and climbed back into the cab, heading for the address the sales associate had given us. We pulled up in front of an apartment complex a few blocks away. The cab driver required a little more convincing to stick around this time. The neighborhood looked decidedly rough.

  There were clusters of teenagers hanging out under busted streetlights and rusted cars parked next to broken meters. This was the first time I’d ever felt I’d be better off without Gabriel. His unusual height and exceptionally nice clothing had the potential to draw a
ttention from the wrong kinds of people.

  As we ascended the five flights of stairs to Jules’ place, I couldn’t help asking Gabriel something that had been bothering me since we left the perfume shop.

  “So…I’ve never seen you intimidate someone before,” I said, trying my best to sound polite rather than insulting. “How does that work exactly?”

  He glanced at me, lifting his eyebrows. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  I offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, but you’ve been nothing but nice to me ever since I met you. I can’t imagine you threatening someone.”

  He shook his head. “That’s because I’ve made a point to remain pleasant in your company. I didn’t want your opinion of me to change if you saw me interrogate someone. I may not care what many people think, but I do care what you think.”

  “Geez. It’s that bad?”

  He sighed. “Let’s just say it’s not a part I enjoy playing.”

  We reached the fifth floor and walked over to the last door on the right, Apartment 547. I took a deep breath and lifted my hand to knock, but Gabriel caught it, making me look at him.

  “No matter what I say in here, remember that it’s just a bluff. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He let go and I knocked on the door. A moment of silence followed before the door opened, revealing a tall, thin white man with tousled hair and a scraggly five o’clock shadow. Guess the nickname was ironic.

  He leaned against the doorjamb, lifting his eyebrows at us. “Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Jules?”

  He eyed Gabriel. “Who’s asking?”

  “A couple of concerned citizens,” the archangel replied in a flat voice.

  Jules glanced between the two of us and his expression hardened. “If you two are cops, I got nothin’ to say to you. And you can’t come in without a warrant, so I suggest you kick rocks.”

  He tried to slam the door, but Gabriel caught it with one large hand.

  “Have you ever loved anyone, Mr. Jules?”

  “What the hell are you talking about? Let go!”

  “Because that’s why we’re here. We need answers and you just so happen to be the one who can provide them.”

  “I’m not kidding, man. Let go of the door or I will fuck you up.”

  “This is going to go one of two ways, Mr. Jules. One, you let us in, answer our questions and we leave. Or two, you don’t answer them, and I make you.”

  “That’s it.” Jules let go of the door and reached for the small of his back. I didn’t wait to see what he pulled. I drew my gun and pointed it between his eyes. He froze, shocked that I’d done it so fast.

  “Back away from the door.”

  He stepped backward and we walked inside, closing the door behind us.

  I motioned towards his midsection with the gun. “Turn around. Slowly.”

  Jules glowered at me but obliged. I lifted up the hem of his t-shirt and took the rather sizeable handgun tucked into his jeans. I checked to make sure the safety was on and stashed it in the largest pocket of my duster.

  Jules faced us again. “You ain’t cops. I can tell. They don’t dress like you around here. So what d’you want? You here to rob me? ‘Cause if you are, you ain’t gonna get far.”

  “We don’t have time for your questions, Mr. Jules,” Gabriel said. “We’re on a deadline, after all. All we need you to do is tell us where Lamont Brooks is and then we’ll be on our way.”

  At the mention of Lamont’s name, Jules shook his head.

  “Shoot me.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “I’m not answerin’ shit. Shoot me, because he’ll do worse if I talk.”

  I glanced at Gabriel. His eyes had the same spark of interest as mine. This guy wasn’t being loyal because he liked Lamont—he was flat-out scared of him. Had Wallace been the same way?

  “What if he doesn’t know you told us?” I asked.

  “He’s got ears everywhere. There’s no way he wouldn’t find out, somehow. I’m in too deep, so you can either kill me or torture me or whatever you like because I’m not talking.”

  Gabriel grabbed two handfuls of Jules’ shirt and shoved him against the far wall so fast that I jumped. He held him there, dangling inches off the floor, and addressed him with a cold voice that scared me half to death.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  Jules swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah.”

  “Very well. Where would you like to start? If you’ve got a good strong chair, we could try water boarding.”

  Sweat beaded on Jules’ brow. Gabriel adopted a positively evil smile.

  “No, no, that’s much too cliché. Perhaps I could drop you out the window. The fall wouldn’t kill you—just break your legs. I’m sure Lamont would love to know how you got that limp.”

  Jules said nothing, but I could see him getting sweatier as the archangel kept going.

  “Y’know, there is this new thing I’ve been wanting to try. You tie someone down, put a bag of ice on his forehead, and leave it there. The shock to your blood vessels causes a pain so intense you’ll be begging me to drop you out of the window.”

  Once again, Jules kept his mouth shut and so Gabriel pressed on. “Then again, I could have my friend here just shoot you and then you’d bleed to death. People watch too many movies these days. They think getting shot means instant death, but actually only a percentage of people die on the spot. Most people bleed out for hours. How long do you think it’ll take you, Mr. Jules?”

  Gabriel glanced at me with a completely serious face. “Aim for the gut.”

  He dropped him. Jules stumbled, clutching the wall behind him. Gabriel stepped back and I pointed the gun at Jules’ midsection.

  “Make sure not to hit the spine. Don’t want to end the party early.”

  Just as my finger slid over the trigger, the thin man broke, waving his hands. “Don’t! I’ll talk. Just don’t shoot me, please.”

  I met eyes with Gabriel, who nodded, and lowered the gun, though I kept it in my hand just to be safe. “Where would Lamont take someone he’s thinking about killing?” I asked.

  Jules winced, glancing nervously at Gabriel. “Look, I’ll talk, but can you just…let me talk to her? I can’t think with you staring at me.”

  Gabriel glared at him until I touched his arm. He looked at me and I nodded towards the kitchen behind us. He disappeared around the corner.

  Jules let out a shaky sigh, sagging against the side of the couch. “Jesus Christ. What was the question again?”

  “Lamont’s going to kill someone,” I said, using a tone less harsh than before since the guy was pretty damn freaked out already. “His name is Lewis Jackson. I need to find out where they are.”

  Jules rubbed one side of his face and then massaged the bridge of his nose, his tone heavy with regret when he spoke. “There’s a place by the river where he likes to take people he’s gonna kill. It’s under Wayne County Bridge. He ties them down with cinderblocks and tosses them in. He owns half the cops around here so no one ever goes searching for bodies or rats him out if they see him and his boys at it.”

  “How many guys will he have with him?”

  Jules shrugged. “Maybe six or seven? Just in case any of the honest cops are hanging around looking for trouble.”

  “Got it.”

  “Look, I don’t know who you are, but if you’re gonna try and save this guy, you’re insane. You can’t touch Lamont. He’ll bury you. If he doesn’t kill you, he’ll dig up dirt on you and make you work for him. That’s how he got me.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” I said with a faint smile as Gabriel came out of the kitchen and opened the door.

  Jules followed us, still confused and anxious. “Why? What makes you think you can take this guy by yourselves?”

  I paused in the doorway and met his eyes with my best Dan Aykroyd impression.

  “He’s not gonna catch us. We’re on a mission from God.”

  Chapter 17
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  Jordan

  “COME ON, HENRY, this is important! There’s got to be something else you can do.”

  I watched Gabriel pace back and forth on the sidewalk with dread filling my gut. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I knew things had taken a turn for the worse.

  Gabriel hung up his cell phone, running a hand through his blond hair. “The soonest Detective Henry can get units over to the bridge is in an hour.”

  I checked my watch. “We only have forty-five minutes left. Lewis’ll be dead by the time the backup arrives. What are we gonna do?”

  Gabriel sighed, unable to keep his frustration in check. “What can we do? There’s a bank robbery with a hostage situation in progress and a riot on the other side of town, so the officers are spread out all over the place. Seems like Lamont picked the perfect time for a murder.”

  I shook my head. “Then the two of us are gonna have to be enough. I have my .38 and Jules’ .45 with me. Plus, Lamont doesn’t know we’re coming.”

  “Jordan, do you know what you’re talking about? These are Detroit criminals. If we could use our abilities, it would be a fair fight, but you know we’re bound by the rules of man not to use them in front of normal people. We’re outmatched.”

  “I don’t care, Gabriel. I’m not going to lose another family member. I’m not going to let someone I care about die again!” I shouted, ignoring the tears that had started to well up in my eyes.

  The archangel gave me a long, penetrating stare before speaking. “This is different. There won’t be any backup. It’s just you and me. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  I climbed into the back of the taxi and Gabriel followed, instructing the driver to head towards the Wayne County Bridge. The guy gave us a funny look, but shrugged and shifted his gears, pulling out into the street.

  Minutes ticked by, each one making me more and more anxious. Luckily, we reached the bridge with twenty minutes until the deadline. Trees clung to the edge of the river beneath the bridge, illuminated by a few dim lights. The water looked black and daunting as we stepped out of the cab. I sent the cabbie away and turned towards Gabriel to ask him something. To my utter shock, he leaned down and kissed me, cupping my left cheek in his hand.