Bart of Darkness (The Book of Bart 2)

by Ryan Hill

  I looked down to my side where Gabriel pointed. On the ground, covered in slobber and dirt, was the Ring of the Gods. My mouth dropped. I picked the ring up and wiped off all traces it’d been in Ozzie’s mouth.

  “How did this make it through all that?” I asked.

  “It can create a divine spark.” Gabriel chuckled. “Do you think the ring can’t handle a little exploding and being in a dog’s mouth?”

  “Guess not.” I slid the ring back on my finger. “How did Ozzie find it?”

  “Good question,” Gabriel said. “He’s a special dog, for sure.”

  “Don’t say that. He’s not some special like he was sent by your side to keep an eye on me.” My face dropped. “Is he?”

  Gabriel shrugged, a slight grin on his face like he knew more than he was letting on. That didn’t help my growing concern about Ozzie, but it did make me hope for the day when the roles were reversed and Gabriel was in over his head, with no clue what was happening or what to do about it. On that day, I would point at the angel and laugh until my voice went hoarse.

  “You realize that if he’s on your team, I have to take him to the pound.” I couldn’t abide a double agent living under my roof, sleeping on my furniture, and eating whatever designer wardrobe seemed tasty. Never in infinity years.

  “How can you say that?” Gabriel knelt and whistled. The dog continued playing with Duffy, ignoring the angel. “The dog wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Good.” I felt strong enough to stand. Halfway up, my head felt light. Sam caught me before I fell.

  “You okay?” she asked

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Do I still have a hole in my chest?”

  Remy stirred, pushing his loose hair back. He used the tree as balance to help him get to his feet. I hoped he’d slip and fall, cracking his head open on a rock. No such luck, however. He held up his hands.

  “It’s me.” The Creole took a deep breath. His face looked worn, like he’d aged one hundred years. “It’s really me. Finally.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “You melted me.”

  “I wish I hadn’t.” Remy sank again, resting his hands on his knees. His shoulders went limp. He was in a daze. I’d never seen him so exhausted. That curse didn’t just take his free will. It took his spirit. “It’s unforgivable. I messed up. I’m not sure what else to say. ”

  “But you’re okay now?” Sam asked.

  “He is,” Gabriel said.

  “I’m not possessed anymore, if that’s what you mean,” Remy said, rising. His eyes were sunken in, darker. The curse had put him through the ringer. “But I’m far from whole.”

  “If only there were a judicial system that would make me whole after you melted me,” I said.

  Sam sighed. “We made you whole.”

  “Not emotionally.” I tapped my chest. “Not where it counts.”

  “Bartholomew is right,” Remy said. “I’ve got some work to do.”

  “Are you going to rebuild your store?” Sam asked.

  “And let us get whatever we want for free forever?” I could only hope.

  “No,” Remy said. “I did a lot of thinking while they had my body on auto-pilot. I need to go home.”

  “To New Orleans?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I need to stop running and make amends for my actions.”

  I cleared my throat. “Think maybe the one you melted is a good place to start?”

  “I saw you,” Gabriel said. “You weren’t melted that bad.”

  “Sure.” I rolled my eyes at the angel. “Take Remy’s side.”

  Remy moved toward me. I extended my claws on instinct alone. Melted or healed, Remy wasn’t getting close to me. The Creole stopped at the sight of them.

  “I am starting with you,” he said. “And Sam. If you two ever need me, or anything from me, it’s yours. No strings, no sell by date.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “Starting after we give you a ride back to town?”

  “Where’d he go?” Sam asked.

  I looked around. Remy had disappeared. If I hadn’t been talking to him, there wouldn’t have been any evidence he was even here.

  Fine by me.

  “I guess he didn’t need a ride back to town after all,” I said.

  “I hope he finds what he’s looking for,” Sam said.

  Gabriel cleared his throat. “I need to get moving.”

  “Too-da-loo,” I said, mustering up all the fake enthusiasm a greasy hipster like Gabriel deserved.

  The angel ignored my jab, staring past me. “You ready?”

  Duffy froze in the middle of playing with Ozzie. “Do I have to?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Gabriel said.

  The ghost patted the Hell Hound’s back. “Can Ozzie come with me?”

  “I’m afraid Ozzie belongs to Bartholomew.” Gabriel broke into a smile. “But there are so many dogs to play with where we’re going, you wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Really?” Duffy’s eyes widened. Didn’t take long for him to forget about Ozzie.

  Gabriel held out his hand. “Really.”

  I awed. “An adult-looking male holding out his hand for a small child. That’s not disturbing in the least.”

  Gabriel’s hand fell to his side, the kindness and warmth in his face disappearing into a slight smirk. “Samantha, I also need you to come with me.”

  Wait.

  “What?” Sam and I asked.

  Gabriel raised an eyebrow, like this wasn’t his decision. “Your presence has been requested.”

  “For what?” I asked. “A gold star? I’ll go to the store and buy her a few dozen packs of them.”

  “This was no small feat you all accomplished,” Gabriel said. “They probably want to thank her personally.”

  I scoffed. “Lies.”

  Gabriel leaned back on his heels. “Could be they want to make her a full-blown angel.”

  “As if they’d ever shorten a penance.” Heaven didn’t shorten penances, punishments, even celebrations. If those clowns said something would take a certain amount of time, it did. I doubted they’d make an exception for Sam. If they did, that would suck. I didn’t want to see her turned into an angel, not when she’d just started getting interesting.

  “You worry too much,” Gabriel said.

  “What if it wasn’t that I wasn’t pure evil,” I said. “But that Sam wasn’t pure good, and that’s what destroyed the Mop Tops?”

  Gabriel laughed. “Good one.”

  I wanted to backhand the angel like a pimp, but Sam moved in front of me, taking my hands. Her eyes were luminous in the moonlight.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Sure.” I didn’t want Sam, and especially Gabriel, to know I was any more bothered than I already was. “They were bound to tell you it was time to go home for dinner eventually.”

  Sam’s mouth narrowed. Her gaze drifted off to the distance. “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. We both knew this was only temporary.”

  Hurt flashed across her face for a moment, before it was hmmed away as if my words didn’t bother her. It didn’t surprise me. Sam had a pretty good ear for knowing when I was full of it. The almost-angel leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Try to behave yourself while I’m gone,” she said.

  “No promises,” I said.

  Sam held out her hand for Duffy to take. The kid looked up at me, face long with dread. Oh, how I wanted to tell him to run for the hills.

  “You’ll have fun up there,” I said. “Lots. Nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Mean it?”

  I winked. “Hell no.”

  Duffy laughed. “Bye, Bartholomew.”

  Ozzie brushed by my leg, panting. Duffy pet the Hell Hound’s head, making his tail wag.

  “He’s going to miss you,” I said.

  Ozzie whined, then licked the ghost’s hand.

  “I’ll miss him, too,” Duffy said.

  I held out my fist. “Pou
nd it.”

  Duffy obliged. I made an exploding sound as our fists touched. Sure, the kid got on my nerves a little, but he wasn’t a bad kid. All he needed was someone to show him the fun to be had doing the wrong thing. Upstairs, he’d get nothing but kittens and rainbows and bubblegum.

  Sam led Duffy toward Gabriel. The almost-angel gazed back at me, her lips turned upward in a wistful smile. I waved to her. I wanted to blow her a kiss, but I had a reputation to keep.

  “You seem different, my friend,” Gabriel said. “Like you don’t have as big a chip on your shoulder.”

  “That’s odd.” I scratched my eye, using only my middle finger. “I was fine until you showed up.”

  Gabriel sighed. “You’ll get there.”

  “Maybe, but I’m in no rush.”

  Gabriel pulled Sam and Duffy close. There weren’t any flashing white lights or fireworks when the three of them left. One moment they were a few feet from me. The next? Gone, as if they were edited out. It was almost anti-climactic without any showmanship. Heaven never did bother to budget for flashy special effects.

  I felt oddly whole. My chest was healed. It was like that spear and those tentacles never touched me. Better still, my entire wardrobe was spotless. Even my shoes had a fine shine to them. I looked up.

  “I hope you’re not expecting a thank you, because I’m not giving you one.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Jurgen asked. He’d reverted to his human form. Gabriel must’ve taken care of the pianist when he took care of me.

  “Nobody at all,” I said with gusto.

  I helped Jurgen to his feet. He patted off his pants, then thumbed toward the mansion’s ruins.

  “We made a bit of a mess, didn’t we?” he asked.

  “That’s what happens when I come to party.”

  Jurgen laughed, the sound trailing off into regret. He wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry it wasn’t me that helped you.”

  “It was you,” I said. “Only a bigger, stronger, Hulkier version.”

  “You kept your word that you wouldn’t set me off. Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t easy, considering the guy who tortured you all those years was in there.”

  “And he’s–”

  I nodded. “Finito.”

  “Good.” Jurgen motioned toward the road. “Shall we?”

  We walked back to my car. Ozzie ran circles around us the entire time. Neither Jurgen nor I spoke, which gave me a chance to think about things. Was I really tainted? No longer pure evil? Could that have happened when I left Hell? What about when my horns were ripped off? Gabriel probably knew the reason, but no way in Heaven would I ask that greasy hipster.

  Then my mind happened on a calming, peaceful thought. One that erased all unease about not being pure evil anymore. A thought that would restore my full potential.

  It didn’t matter how much evil was inside me. Never did. All it took to raise some Hell was the will to do so.

  And I was more than willing.

  Thank You!

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  Also by Ryan Hill

  The Book of Bart

  Winner - 2015 Next Generation Indie Awards - Humor Comedy

  Finalist - 2014 USA Best Book Awards - Humor

  Working for the man upstairs stinks, but working with Samantha, an angel in training? Offensive!

  Only one thing is so powerful, so dangerous that Heaven and Hell must work together to find it: the Shard of Gabriel.

  With a mysterious Black Cloud of Death hot on the shard's trail, a desperate Heaven enlists the help of Bartholomew, a demon who knows more about the shard than almost anyone. Six years ago, he had it in his hands. If only he'd used it before his coup to overthrow the Devil failed. Now, he's been sprung from his eternal punishment to help Samantha recover the shard before the Black Cloud of Death finds it.

  If Bart wants to succeed, he'll have to fight the temptation to betray Samantha and the allure of the shard. After an existence full of evil, the only way Bart can get right with Hell is to be good.

  The Conch Shell of Doom

  Bailey didn’t mean to catch his parents plotting to unleash the sinister Trenton Maroney and his powerful oceanic army on the world. It was an honest mistake. Now, he’s got the horribly disfigured Mr. Lovell on his trail, which is doing wonders for Bailey’s anxiety.

  His only ally is Franklin, a burn-out several decades past wishing his brother Trenton was destroyed for good. Franklin has battled his brother for two thousand years, and has nothing to show for it except his beloved Mustang.

  To stop Mr. Lovell from awakening Trenton, Franklin and Bailey will have to get past his parents, a one-eyed stoner, crooked cops, giant Scotsmen, and Trenton’s army, which can only be summoned by one thing: the mysterious Conch Shell of Doom.

  Dead New World

  Before the world fell into chaos, zombies existed only in the imagination. Now, there’re more dead walking the earth than living. Zombies move about freely, while humans are forced behind concrete barricades to stay alive.

  A man known only as the Reverend has become a threat to the rebuilding United States. The leader of a powerful cult, the Reverend somehow controls the zombies, bending them to his will. He believes zombies are God’s latest creation, making humanity obsolete, and he wants to give every man, woman, and child the chance to become one. With the Horsemen of the Apocalypse, his army composed of both humans and zombies, he may well get his wish.

  Best friends Holt and Ambrose went up against the Reverend once. Holt lost a foot and a zombie bit Ambrose… though he didn’t completely turn. He survived the virus, only to become a human-zombie hybrid, reviled by the living and unwelcome among the dead. When the Reverend kidnaps the woman Holt loves, the race is on to save her from a fate worse than death.

  Holt and Ambrose must sacrifice everything to take down the Reverend and survive in this dead new world. But will they lose their souls in the process?

  About the Author

  Growing up, Ryan Hill spent his time writing stories instead of doing homework. This resulted in an obsession with being an author and a gross incompetence in the fields of science and mathematics. A graduate of North Carolina State University, Ryan loves the Wolfpack. Ryan also feels strange about referring to himself in the third person, but that hasn't stopped him from doing it this whole time.