Bart of Darkness (The Book of Bart 2)

by Ryan Hill

“If only we had that technology. Or ability.”

  “Hold that thought.” I pulled my cell phone out and dialed up Smooth Lou. Looking for Remy the old-fashioned way was all well and good, but we needed a jolt of modern technology to speed things up. I wanted to know where that Creole had gone after he tried to burn me back to Hell.

  Bonus points if he could point us in the direction of the Magister Caelo before the Mop Tops could kill anyone else.

  For the low, low price of $5,000, I “convinced” Lou to contact his friends in law enforcement for an emergency trace on Remy’s cell phone. If we’d had Arthur Powell’s phone number, the former televangelist would’ve gotten a trace as well. But one thing at a time. Sam and I would have a much easier time finding Remy than Powell, or the Magister Caelo. After I got off the phone with Smooth Lou, I saw a text from Veronica.

  Miss u lovr. Where u at?

  With Remy going turncoat, melting me, and generally turning into a world-class douche overnight, I’d forgotten all about Veronica. I was feeling more like a fighter than a lover, but it didn’t hurt to keep my options open. If Veronica was with the Caelo, perhaps she’d reveal herself tonight. If she wasn’t, well then … point for Bartholomew. I texted her back.

  Working. Hook up later tonight if all goes well?

  It’d suck if it didn’t go well and I stood up Veronica, but people like her tended to see rejection as a challenge, meaning she’d lust after me even more. It was pretty much a win-win. Seconds later, my phone beeped.

  Purrfect. See u soon, Big B.

  Big B. Not sure I liked the sound of that. For me, it’s Bartholomew, nothing else. Pet names, even for certain parts of my anatomy, weren’t my thing. I let it slide for the moment, though, since there were bigger fish to fry.

  “How long will it take to find Remy?” Sam asked.

  “Could be ten minutes; could be ten hours,” I said. “Depends on when the cops tell Lou, and when Lou tells us. Either way, we’re not going to sit here and twiddle our thumbs until then.”

  “No?” Sam asked.

  “No. We’re going to the House of the Rising Sun.”

  There was a slim chance we’d find Remy at his store. I figured he’d cleared out most of the important inventory before the police and everyone else arrived to deal with the fallout from that car crashing into the place. I wondered how many people turned blue before they brought out the HAZMAT suits.

  “What if Remy isn’t there?” Sam asked.

  “Then we go to his house again.” I finished knotting my black tie, then put on one of my nicest jackets. Chances were good that the suit would get ruined, but I was on the warpath. I always made it a point to look my best when out for blood. “And if that New Orleans Saints-loving, creole-breathed turd isn’t there, we go to the next place he might be. We do that until we hear from Lou.”

  Duffy giggled. “Turd.”

  Sam wasn’t so quick to impress. “Boys.”

  I held out my arms. “Would you rather I said–”

  Sam grabbed my arm. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  My brain still felt like it was congealing into non-melted form, which was the only reason Sam was allowed to drive. Ozzie wanted to come with us but he hadn’t completed his Hell Hound training. As such, the pooch wasn’t ready for the field. I tossed him a few treats and he dove into them, enjoying each crunch. We used the distraction to leave. Duffy tried to tell the dog goodbye.

  “Don’t,” I said. “Whatever trouble we’re getting ourselves into, Ozzie doesn’t need to be a part of it.”

  Duffy’s eyes grew wide. “But what if I don’t see him again?”

  “That look may work on Sam, but it doesn’t work on me.”

  “Okay, fine.” Duffy started for the door. “Bye, Ozzie.”

  We walked outside, making our way toward the Corolla. I died a little each time I got into that wretched rental car. It was like volunteering to take a dive into a landfill. No matter how many showers I took to get the stench off, it was still there in spirit.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “If I say it out loud, it might turn into foreshadowing.”

  “I’m going to find out what Remy used to liquefy you,” Sam said. “And put some of it in your best bottle of wine.”

  I gasped. “Heresy. Say what you want about me, but do not bring the collection into it.”

  Suddenly: “Ozzie!” Duffy sounded like he’d won first prize at the science fair, the nerd.

  “Ozzie?” I turned to see what Duffy was on about. Sure enough, the dog was in the car, licking the kid’s face.

  “How?” I asked.

  The dog didn’t have a scratch on him, so he couldn’t have crashed through one of the windows in my condo. He also wouldn’t have survived the fall. I made sure the Hell Hound was still inside when we left, so how did he do it?

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  “Maybe you’ve taught Ozzie better than you think,” Sam said.

  “Maybe.”

  Duffy and Ozzie stuck their heads in between the front seats. The sight of Duffy so close made me jerk back.

  “Come on, kid,” I said. “I don’t want your germs.”

  “Please let Ozzie come with us,” he said. “Please?”

  I leaned forward to get a glimpse of Sam’s face. I’d hoped for some kind of nod, a terse look, any kind of assurance she’d back me up when I said no, but nothing. Without backup from Sam, and no guarantee Ozzie could stay put, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

  “Fine,” I finally said.

  “Sweet.” Duffy pulled Ozzie into his harms.

  “But he has to stay in the car,” I said. “That’s non-negotiable.”

  “Okay by me,” Duffy said.

  I closed my eyes for a moment, shaking my head. Existence post-Hell was becoming entirely too kid-friendly for my tastes. The sooner we got to the bottom of this whole Caelo in Terra deal and sent Duffy Upstairs, the sooner I could return to my hedonistic ways.

  The rotten Corolla didn’t have the muscle to go more than twenty miles over the speed limit, which meant I could only drive twenty miles over the speed limit to get to the House of the Rising Sun. I stopped the car in the middle of the parking lot, the rental giving out one last nudge, like it was taking a deep breath after running a sprint.

  There wasn’t another car, or person, around. I turned to Duffy and Ozzie, whose tongue was wagging.

  “Stay in the car.” I pointed at both of them. “Not kidding. If either of you get out of the car, you’re not getting back in. You can walk home, call a taxi, I don’t care, but you will not ride in this car. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Duffy said.

  Ozzie licked Duffy’s face. That better have meant he understood.

  Even less of the House of the Rising Sun remained than I thought. The storefront, which was inside the store after the Camaro crashed into it, was gone, along with the car. A cleanup crew must’ve gotten to it already.

  I dipped under a thin line of yellow DO NOT CROSS tape and walked into what was left of the store. The floor was covered in broken glass, the shelves that held Remy’s inventory tipped over, lying on top of each like fallen dominoes. I kicked one of the Camaro’s rearview mirror underneath some shelves.

  “You definitely can’t tell a car crashed into this place,” Sam said without a hint of sarcasm.

  “Nope,” I said. “Grab a broom, a little Windex, the place will be good as new.”

  Pieces of broken glass cracked under Sam’s foot and she checked the sole of her shoe, hopping on one foot to keep balance. I grinned, watching her act like a pogo stick. She gave me a not-so-subtle physical gesture that would’ve made Gabriel, or any other angelic being, blush and wag their finger.

  “Such language,” I said.

  “Shut up.” Sam stepped over another pile of broken glass. “I’m guessing nobody’s home?”

  “Anybody home?” I shouted.

  Sam cringed. “Do you have to yell?”


  “No. I wanted to.” I waited for Remy, or anyone else, to answer me. Nothing. “Either someone doesn’t want to come out and play, or it’s just us, the moon, and the stars, baby.”

  “Do you want to find out which it is?” Sam thumbed toward the car. “Or head over to Remy’s house?”

  I pointed at the beaded curtains, which were somehow still hanging. “Let’s go a little further down the rabbit hole.”

  I took Sam by the hand, steadying her as we walked over a row of fallen shelves. Each step was slow and cautious so we wouldn’t trip on a shelf and land face-first on the floor. I made it to the beaded curtain without issue, but Sam tripped on the last shelf, falling into my arms. I thought about calling her clumsy … then decided against it.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking her time pulling out of my embrace.

  “Come on.”

  I parted the beaded curtains to allow her to walk in ahead of me. Save for some extra dust below the curtains, the back of the store looked untouched. It didn’t seem like anything was missing. Not even a strange smell that hinted at spilled potions because Remy was in a rush—nothing.

  “I don’t see any sign of a rush,” I said. “Do you?”

  Sam picked at some papers on the desk. “No.”

  “Do you think maybe he’d been planning this for a while?”

  Sam left the papers alone, her mouth hanging ajar in a mild level of shock. “I hope not.”

  But Remy wasn’t the type to tuck tail and run without a plan. By the time he was cast out of New Orleans, he’d already had the House of the Rising Sun open here in Raleigh. A person doesn’t live close to a century and not learn a thing or two about preparation. If the Creole had been planning to turn on us, he would have already gotten everything necessary to go on the run.

  Which would mean that the store would look exactly as it had the last time we’d seen it. He’d already have been packed.

  Still, if Remy was long gone, that meant we were free to plunder. I went to the far end of the store, where he kept a locker full of priceless weapons from different eras of history. One summoned Ares’ Birds of War, another came from an ancient samurai… I didn’t know what the Magister Caelo was, but if anything could end the little pecker’s existence faster than a tiger chasing a sloth, it was in that locker. And I wanted it.

  “Son of a…”

  The locker was empty. Not one weapon remained. I ran up and kicked it, denting the wall behind it. So much for easily dispatching the Magister Caelo when we found the street hustler.

  “What is it?” Sam asked.

  “I guess nothing.” I stared at the ceiling and sighed. “Can’t make it easy, can you?”

  Sam, meanwhile, had been inspecting some of the dusty potion bottles sitting on shelves. “Is there anything here we can use?”

  I shrugged. “I always fell asleep in potions class.”

  My cell rang. It was Smooth Lou. At last! A break in our favor.

  “Give me some good news,” I said.

  “You owe me extra for this,” Smooth Lou said. “I went so far as to translate the latitude and longitude coordinates of Remy’s location, which wasn’t easy.”

  “Yeah, yeah, where is he now?”

  “I did some digging, but apparently it’s some place called the House of the Rising Sun. Have you heard of it?”

  My jaw dropped and my muscles tensed. I stared at Sam, wide-eyed and full of dread. “Rings a bell.”

  “What?” Sam mouthed.

  “Remy’s here,” I mouthed in return, pointing toward the front of the store.

  Sam’s mouth formed a perfect “O” in surprise.

  “Nice work, Lou. Gotta go. Hugs and kisses.” I hung up. Sam and I didn’t have time for Lou to ramble on about billing. We had a problem.

  Part of me hesitated to confront Remy, considering the emergency exit in the back of the store seemed like an easy out. And going out the back—and leaving the Corolla behind for Remy and his black-hole-headed friends—served as a nice bonus.

  “We can’t make a run for it,” Sam said, noticing me staring at the rear exit.

  “That obvious?”

  “Yes, and don’t forget about Duffy and Ozzie.”

  I closed my eyes. “Sometimes, I really hate responsibility.”

  Ozzie may have somehow gone from my locked condo to the back of the car without appearing in a cloud of smoke barking, “Presto, change-o,” but that didn’t mean he could do it again. I didn’t feel right leaving him behind. Demons, or ex-demons in my case, stuck by their Hell Hounds through thick and thin.

  And Duffy. The idea of leaving him behind with Remy was tempting, but we couldn’t leave the ghost behind, either. If the Mop Tops finished the job they’d started on the kid…

  Then I heard Ozzie barking outside.

  “Those ass pots better not be hurting him,” I said.

  Sam looked heartbroken, except there was a fire in her eyes. Defiance? A desire to keep us all safe?

  “We’re not leaving anyone behind,” Sam said.

  “It’s an attractive option, but Ozzie would suffer.”

  “And Duffy.”

  “Yes, him too.”

  Sam moved closer to me, her face inches from mine. I felt her breath on my lips. All thoughts of impending doom disappeared in a haze of lust. If only there was time to make the dirty thoughts bouncing around in my head a reality.

  But Remy’s shouting snapped me out of my daydream. With the front of the store gone, it was easy to hear him in all his bluster.

  “Hey, beans and cornbread,” he yelled.

  Sam and I scrunched our faces. Beans and cornbread?

  “It’s best if you two come out quietly,” the Creole said. “There’s no need to look in the locker, we already have all the weapons.”

  I moved to stand by the beaded curtains. “They don’t compare to what I’m packing.”

  Sam ughed.

  “What?” I asked. “I’m playing mind games. Trying to get in their head, psyche them out. You know, like intimidation?”

  Remy and the others laughed.

  “Come on out here,” he said. “We’d be glad to put our weapons up against whatever microscopic piece you’ve got.”

  “You have to admit it,” Sam said, struggling to hold back a grin. “You walked right into that one.”

  I looked around, hoping to find something that might help us. Nothing. The desk was littered with bills and customer orders. The potions stacked on the shelves would’ve been useful, but they required mixing, and I was no brew master. With the weapons locker looted on top of that, Sam and I were on our own. I groaned, mad as Heaven we were trapped, and kicked some rubble.

  And there, underneath the rubble, was a miniature samurai sword, with a blade maybe six inches in length. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

  “Well, look what we have here.”

  “What?” Sam asked.

  “Remy missed something.”

  I picked it up and blew the dust off, revealing Chinese writing etched onto the blade. The lettering was black, but faded. The cloth handle was torn in some spots, and though the steel probably had a bright glare after it was crafted, centuries of use left it looking tired and sickly.

  Still, that blade was sharp. It might’ve only been able to put someone’s eye out, but I still wouldn’t want to find myself on the other end of it.

  Sam looked over my shoulder at the sword. “What does it say?”

  “No clue,” I said. “I tried learning Chinese once, but I gave up after a few minutes. Way too much work involved.”

  “Wow. You really gave it the old college try.”

  “Says the girl who only speaks one language. I speak fifteen.” I snapped my fingers. “Sixteen! I forgot Slovak. Such a charming language.”

  “Gold star for you.” Sam eyed the mini-sword. “Will that even help us?”

  “I’m sure it’ll wreck somebody’s day.” I held it out for her. “It wouldn’t be here if i
t was an average, ordinary, everyday mini-sword. Besides, it’s not the size that matters. It’s how you use it.”

  “Ever the gentleman.” Sam took the weapon, running her finger along the writing.

  Suddenly something collapsed at the front of the store. Bits of cement cracked, and the downed shelves screeched against each other. It was like someone was dragging that stuff out of the store. Or sucking it out.

  Sam jumped, holding the blade out as if it was going to protect us.

  But the clanging got louder. I peeked through the beaded curtains just in time to see the cash register fly off the counter and outside, disappearing into one of the two-dozen exposed black hole heads taking apart the House of the Rising Sun. Remy was standing behind them, holding a struggling Duffy by the back of the neck. I didn’t see Ozzie, but I knew he was out there.

  Sam moved to the back of the store, only stopping when her palms touched the cinder block wall. She looked to me, hoping I knew what to do. I didn’t know what to do, but I had some ideas. I rushed past her and opened the emergency exit.

  Ten black hole heads pointed at me the second my gorgeous body went through the door. I jumped back inside, pulling the door shut.

  Then the rear wall began shaking. Dust clouds poured out from the ceiling and the cement holding the cinder blocks together cracked. Sam and I moved to the middle of the store. The hair on the back of my head moved toward Remy and his goons outside.

  I didn’t see a way out of this one. There were too many of them. Sam and I could take out an eyeball or two in a fight, but that required charging at them. With so many Mop Tops out there, charging only made their job easier.

  “Well, shit,” I said.

  And then the building began to crumble around us. A piece of flying concrete hit my shoulder and I fell to my knees, pulling Sam with me, trying to avoid more debris. Bottles of potions flew past us, crashing into the wall abutting the storefront. The dying building, combined with the sucking sound outside, made it impossible to hear anything.

  Sam held out the mini-sword toward me. “You need it more than I do!” she shouted.

  “What?”

  “Take it!” she screamed.

  I took the mini-sword. The almost-angel’s hands burst into a bright, white light. Lips pursed and eyes focused, she was ready to rumble.