Demorn: City of Innocents (The Asanti Series Book 2)

by David Finn

  It disappeared from Demorn’s fingers. Alex put it back in her robe, looking at her with curious eyes. ‘How bad do you want to get out and kick some bad guy ass?’

  ‘Pretty bad,’ Demorn growled.

  Alex clicked her fingers. A new song came on, sexy and romantic. She slow-danced through the room on some private rhythm, grinding against Demorn, just barely touching.

  ‘Just imagine if we Ran, Princess. If we got on all the channels, and just Ran, you and me against whatever they throw at us.’

  Demorn cocked her head.

  ‘A Tyrant Run? It always seemed so silly. Chasing villains across the city on a time counter. Something kids would do.’

  Alex whispered into her ear. ‘You were a kid not so long ago, Demorn. You survived the Grave, neck deep in Bone for two years. It’s all over the gossip sites. “Killed hundreds, saved millions!”’

  Demorn chuckled. ‘I barely saved myself. You know that.’

  ‘Who cares? Babelzon loves undead stories, and you’ve always been a myth. Those bootleg videos played huge. You’re an urban playa right now, the most popular you’ve ever been. A Run would be so goddamn huge.’ Alex came in real close, the robe opening more. ‘Plus, I heard the Capitan was into you for a bundle.’

  Demorn smiled, fighting back the urge to slap Alex across the face. ‘Where did you hear that?’

  ‘People talk.’

  ‘So do traitors.’

  Alex looked at her with a blank friendliness.

  ‘I’ve done nine Runs. Nine wins. The Tyrant gave me that card from his private collection. We’ve got to take advantage of the good times.’

  Doubts stirred. Demorn kept her expression neutral, thinking of the deals she had always made to keep the devil from the door.

  ‘You’ve made him your meal ticket, haven’t you?’

  Alex looked chagrined and Demorn swore she saw the first hint of an actual blush on her perfect skin. ‘In person, up there with him, you realize what the Tyrant has done, the scope of his power. He has come home, Demorn, that’s the hilarious thing. He did what he promised us.’

  Oh Alex, Demorn sighed, you will be the death of us, you will bring the wolves to all our homes. A chill ran down her back. She looked out at the tech horizon with a cold, implacable certainty.

  ‘The Tyrant never promised me anything. But he’s patient and he knows exactly what we need. He’s watched us grow, even if he was star systems away. I kept him at bay for years with Tony, played the long game with his Council vote.’

  Alex snapped, ‘Until you left the whole game for two damn years.’

  Demorn shook her head.

  ‘I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Alex. He’s just another savage politician. Worse than the monsters we hunt.’

  Alex pouted. ‘Bullshit, and two years is a long-ass time. You were gone, and your friend Tony ain’t my friend, when the rain fell down.’

  Demorn sighed in exasperation. There was no point arguing. Tony was fallen or falling. Maybe he wouldn’t get back up. There was a cold logic to everything.

  ‘Where’s Smile?’

  She hadn’t see him since the Mall.

  Alex chuckled. ‘Your brother has always been a part-time Innocent. He’s on the lawn, praying with the girls.’

  Praying? Demorn looked into the park, sure enough, there he was, excitedly bouncing around the small group that sat upon the green grass, his wild golden teeth blazing even from this distance. They began to chant and dance, holding their hands, so in the moment, so alive, their bodies ablaze with magic and energy and hope.

  Goddess, they all look so young.

  Demorn’s magic eyes could see the happiness and joy upon each face as they danced, howling strange songs and chants she did not know and could not hear.

  Above them, the sky flashed and a dazzling crystal-blue light poured down on the small gathering. Their bodies lifted from the ground, each of them shining. Smile was brightest of all, his beautiful teeth grinning through the magical blue light, vivid in the last of the day’s sun.

  A wave of sadness passed through her — for him, for the things she could not share.

  The sky rumbled with a quick violent roar and a wild bolt crashed violently down, saturating the chanting group with two mighty blasts.

  Alex grasped her hand tightly, pressed against the bay window. As quickly as it came the wild arc of light faded away, leaving the members of the group sprawled out on the grass, spent, ecstatic and exhausted in the dying rays of the sun.

  ‘Crazy kids, high on good ol’ faith.’

  ‘High on something.’ Demorn was droll.

  Alex clicked her fingers, mimicking Demorn’s own trigger code. The window darkened to black, blotting out the view of Innocent Park.

  ‘Forget them, it’s just a fad. Kids will believe anything for five minutes.’

  Demorn felt melancholy. ‘It’s funny, I always preferred Friday Night Music Club. I guess that’s gone now.’

  Alex laughed, eager, keyed up.

  ‘Hardly! Meanwhile, back in the real world, the Run is crawling with bad guys. Business is up, it’s packed with the type you feel clean for killing.’

  Demorn held her hand against the dark bay window. ‘The Run.’

  ‘Don’t you miss it? Hunting down the scum? Getting paid for it? Getting famous?’ Alex’s voice was husky.

  Miss what, Demorn thought. The Grave was already part of some manic, surreal background. The Repeater Mall was a private nightmare. After the Mall opened, spilling out the inhabitants into the chill dawn, Demorn had spent the last week confined to her room, totally burnt out. Exhausted, she played video games, listening to ancient songs, letting Kate and a long line of beautiful ghosts bounce around her head. The desperate call from Tony to his suburban bunker had only barely roused her.

  Nothing seemed like steady ground. All she could feel were the changes. By contrast, Alex seemed untouched by the Dead Dimension and her sojourn in the Grave. She was just as invincible as ever. She’s keeping me laughing, Demorn realized, stopping me from playing too many sad songs, disappearing too far inside.

  The room was darker now, peaceful and quiet. Demorn brushed the lightning bolt upon her cheek.

  ‘What if I can’t find anyone worth killing?’

  ‘It’s Babelzon, honey, everything’s a little dirty. Everybody’s a little bad.’

  Alex dropped her red robe, revealing her curved, luscious body, slow-dancing through the room.

  Demorn couldn’t help but run her eyes over her magnificent body.

  Spread across her arms and back was an ornate purple tattoo, an exotic woman carrying a long spear in one hand, while in her other she held aloft the bloody, hideous head of a defeated monster, still writhing upon Alex’s snow-white skin.

  ‘It’s so beautiful. I always forget.’

  Alex voice was girlish and coy. ‘You forget all this?’

  Demorn touched Alex’s back, tender. ‘Oh, just the details. Who was she?’

  ‘My master. I killed for her,’ Alex said. Her voice had a rare touch of rawness. ‘She owned me.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Alex turned and looked Demorn in the face, flushed and energized, everything about her hot and hungry. ‘The War took her. Now I kill for you,’ she breathed, and the two kissed, rough and urgent with each other.

  Alex pushed her away, for a second almost forcefully. ‘But nobody owns me now.’

  Demorn’s green eyes flashed as she caught Alex by her long, tangled blonde tresses. She spoke in clear Asanti, ‘No Innocent owns another, we are spirits dancing.’

  Alex laughed and dragged her down to the four-poster bed, behind the dark curtains. ‘You’re so brooding and mysterious when you do the sexy accent, Princess!’

  But Demorn suddenly felt clear and full of purpose, not such a mystery after all, as they kissed so hard it bruised her lips, hands gripping tightly to their bodies.

  The Jade Pyramid shuddered around Demorn’s neck
, light encasing them as the bed vanished and they travelled into the Cavern, back into the heart of the Club, plunging into the steaming water of the lake.

  Her clothes had vanished, naked except for the necklace. Freedom coursed through her. Her heart was a clear glass filled with light. The darkness was gone and her eyes were stars.

  Alex giggled and splashed wildly, swimming toward Demorn, everything a crazy mix of tender and harsh, as they made love with hunger, hands all over each other.

  With each touch, Demorn felt the last pieces of ice slide away inside, pulling her closer to some pure fire she sought to find, a perfect place that had been gone for years, vanished and thought lost. But nothing was lost, she realized, only reborn, her arms clinging to the body of this beautiful girl, in the hot waters of the Cavern.

  4

  * * *

  The cackle of Johnny Five Guns was hideous, his multiple arms firing an array of green and pink heat beams across the night sky, ricocheting off the glass mirrored walls.

  The crazily distorted black and white lines of Demorn’s death mask glimmered eerily in the soft, pink glow of the street lights, looking like a blurred version of black-and-white TV.

  Alex was in her sheer white bodysuit, the orange-visored helmet slung across her face, taking sharp shots with her elegant laz pistols, pinning Five Guns down, stopping him from getting a high position.

  Alex came in through the earpiece. ‘What a cheap punk this guy turned into! I really had no idea he’d escaped the institution!’

  Sarcastically Demorn said, ‘And he was such a sweet cowboy at that Xmas party. The one you invited him to!’

  Alex phased out, jumping farther into the maze, stylish pistols twin-firing, shattering mirrored walls around Five Guns. ‘Well I do love me a cowboy!’

  Demorn slipped two energy stars into her left hand, watching the small-arm fire rattle around. Five Guns was a crazy little bastard with some talent and no patience; Alex was all sharp moves and strategy. It was fun to watch, as Alex gradually cut down his options, breaking down his cover.

  Five Guns broke and ran. Demorn sprang around the corner, flinging both energy stars at him, nodding with satisfaction as both curled into him, hitting hard, blowing an arm off, sending him spinning.

  Demorn moved fast toward him. Five Guns was primal screaming, begging, making promises, even as three arms kept firing with some measure of control.

  ‘What an asshole,’ Demorn said dryly.

  Alex phased behind him and drilled him through the back with both pistols. He staggered crazily as the bullets thudded into him.

  ‘Is it rude to say he had wandering hands?’

  Demorn paced slowly toward him, drawing her katana out. ‘I do love that bodysuit on you, Alex.’

  ‘Thanks, honey, it’s nice having a wardrobe again.’

  Alex caught him by the chin, pressing her gloved fingers against his sweating brow. Rainbow colors lay on the fingers, digital readout upon skin.

  ‘He’s killed five girls,’ she murmured, her voice throaty. ‘One a day, he just went nuts. Whatever meds they gave him just made him more crazy.’

  Alex kicked Johnny Five Guns’ turning jaw, smashing him to the shimmering ground, his blaster clattering across the pavement.

  ‘He would have killed more. I want the kill, Princess.’

  Demorn watched him crawling across the ground, crying. His bleeding stump and sprawled out limbs reminded Demorn of some broken spider who had seen better days.

  ‘Have it.’

  She kept watching. His bleeding had stopped. Five Guns made a lunging attempt to get up.

  Demorn sank a punch into his stomach, almost casually. Five Guns slumped to the ground, groaning.

  ‘Well, check it out, the cowboy heals. It’s kind of symbolic.’

  Demorn took off his cowboy hat and twirled it on her finger. ‘Y’know, he almost got in on his accent alone. I had a thing for Texans, I find them so sexy in the westerns. But up close, he’s kind of tacky and fake.’

  Alex holstered her pistols, laughing. ‘It’s ’cause he went all glitter and rhinestone, it’s nowhere as sexy as a ranch hand. The mask is badass by the way.’

  Demorn couldn’t help but laugh a little. Her heart was beating fast and she was on the edge of her self-control, pressed to the limit, slightly manic.

  Demorn saw Johnny make a half-twist move, his fingers wrapped around a miniature pistol. His body shuddered as she and Alex both piled him with bullets, her Athena pistol flashing in the soft pink light, Alex firing one laz pistol solo.

  The miniature gun rolled away from him.

  Demorn picked up the dainty pistol. ‘I’m guessing that’s Gun Number Five. It’s so cute!’

  She looked over at the bigger laz cannon Johnny had been blasting them with. ‘I probably would have used a bigger gun as last resort.’

  Alex approached the murderer, a flickering long Bowie knife in hand. She had pulled her visor down, and her eyes were sparkling an icy blue.

  Demorn nodded imperceptibly, dispassionate as Alex slashed the killer’s throat in one smooth, savage motion.

  They both felt a faint electronic buzz trickle through their necks. Johnny Five Guns was completely out of the game.

  ‘Total loser,’ Alex said dismissively. ‘Johnny Limp would have been closer to the mark.’

  She looked up at Demorn with her big blue eyes flickering with excitement. ‘This is just the entree. He was a warmup ball, right over the plate. He never really had a hope in hell.’

  She enjoys it so much, Demorn realized, cleaning the scum from the streets. Alex was just the right side of crazy. It made her one of the best ever Innocents, possibly the most dangerous, even if they usually wound up trying to kill each other.

  ‘How are you, Fearless Leader?’

  ‘I haven’t felt this alive in years.’

  It was true, she felt great, breathing with raw power. Her magic eyes saw his corpse, as they always did if she looked too long. Visions played a younger version of Johnny Five Guns, white cowboy hat on, twirling his guns, saying how he liked the soft-rock song playing in her office, a pleasant smile on his face, not facedown dead in the flashing street years later.

  How can you ever turn it off, Demorn thought. All these memories, horribly frozen and dislocated from the present, as if they belonged to another universe entirely. This terrible hindsight where people you liked turned out to be awful, worse than enemies, because some part of you remembered liking them. Smiling sexily, he had asked for her number, as she turned away, grinning—

  Instinctively, Demorn amped up the mask’s wattage, her visions becoming a grotesque mishmash of black and white skull lines, the power and violence of the fight and the dying feeding into her again, wiping past the regrets, blacking out all the softness, making everything black and white in a nightmare world.

  Demorn blinked. She was amped right up, her powers were right on the surface, hard to control.

  ‘He’s cold meat. What’s next?’

  Alex studied the readout carefully. ‘We made great time in getting to this scumbag first.’ She flicked her visor down as she processed information. ‘There’s a mark deep in the Diamond Core.’

  Alex looked at the glittering mirrored walls. In the reflections they were like spooky circus performers, the real circus, the one ordinary people only caught a glimpse of, and it scared them.

  ‘There’s shadows around us, ghosts in my scanner. I don’t like it. We have to stay on point, only one team wins, after all.’

  Demorn sneered, checking her gun, watching angles on the walls. The doors on the buildings around them all vanished, except for a rectangular one which flashed at them.

  ‘The game’s afoot,’ Alex said drolly.

  Demorn saw the tiny camera-balls floating along the alley. ‘I hate the way the Run is a show. It feels so damn lame.’

  Alex jumped towards the vacant buildings, right by the flashing door. Her tone was sarcastic in the ear piece. ‘You kn
ow what’s really lame? The way you left Rachel so fucking empty. The way you made all of us that way.’

  Demorn snarled, ‘Jesus, Alex, it always comes out, doesn’t it?’

  Alex smiled, drawing her pistol. ‘Well, you never change, Princess. See you on the flip-side.’

  She phase-jumped into the large building, the door flickering and flashing. Immediately shots were fired inside, faint echoes.

  As Demorn approached, the door opened. She could see nothing with her magic eyes. It was like a blank spot of existence. Nothing inside her felt good. The mask’s program sang death, death.

  For just a moment, she let herself go still inside, stopped everything, felt it all raw and without enhancement. The violent, disruptive face-mask slipped away. She felt clear and calm.

  Then the flashing of the door distracted her, reminded her of how alone she was. She saw Rachel back in the ice cave. She felt Toxis screaming as she plunged into the abyss of a million colors. Her arm burnt where the golden band had been. She felt it all, she felt too much.

  Demorn ran through the door, desperate to kill something, the mask shifting and moving across her face.

  For a moment she was in a well-lit warehouse, sliding through the door, rolling into cover.

  A half second passed. She was in a den of writhing, black snakes. Her pearl Athena gun discharged into the heads of six serpents.

  Less then a half second passed.

  Alex was flung back out of the air, her body smashed and broken, blood pouring from multiple wounds, silent, body rag-like.

  Demorn discharged shot after shot into the black tendrils. The creature tore into Alex, slashing and crushing her, not distracted by anything.

  Alex wasn’t slow, jumping in the air, even half dead, her voice a raspy gurgle in the earpiece. But the creature made her seem slow, phasing as Alex jumped, tendrils everywhere.

  Watching patterns, Demorn realized that all the snakes were one, striking together, connected with some hive mind, bizarre synchronicity.

  A millisecond later, Alex jumped beside Demorn, firing pistols, seemingly untouched except for her smashed visor and a small cut above intense ice-blue eyes.