Bad Soul

by David Bussell

  I feel you all judging me. Maybe step off your moral high ground and think back to all those dead people in Highstaff, hmm?

  ‘How’d you get it? The money you paid Elton. Two-hundred grand. He wasn’t cheap.’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  I shrugged, ‘Just curious, it’s my biggest fault. Well, that and my love of pop groups from the ‘90s.’

  ‘It was my money. Money I’d made. I used to co-run a pretty successful consultancy firm. We’d work with failing businesses and help them turn things around.’

  ‘Wow, sounds, well… I’ll be honest, it sounds really, really dull.’

  Brian smiled, just for a second. ‘I liked it. I was good at it. But I knew I needed to run, knew I needed money, so I had my partner buy me out. Made the company all his, and in return I got enough money to pay for the wizard’s help. Enough money to buy this place, and a couple of others so we could keep moving. Enough money to live on for as long as needed, provided we kept the budget tight.’

  ‘Listen to Mister Moneybags. Local kid done good. How long was it before you started putting all this together?’

  ‘The day after Cali was given the all clear. The day after the doctors told me they couldn’t understand what they were seeing, that there’d been, for want of a better word, a miracle. I knew then that it was all true. That I hadn’t gone mad. I knew then how long I had, because the demon had told me when he came for me, before I signed his contract. A year. I had a year to be happy with my healthy daughter, and then I’d have to pay the debt.’

  Brian’s fists were balled, knuckles white, his eyes not blinking.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I took one look at Cali, running around in the back garden like she’d never been in danger at all, and knew a year wouldn’t be enough. Knew I couldn’t leave her. She needed me.’

  It seemed like he’d finished his story. He sagged and began to gulp down air, like he’d been holding his breath, his hands rubbing each other.

  ‘Right then, I’m gonna take a piss,’ I said, slapping my thighs and standing up. ‘Where’s the pisser?’

  ‘It’s upstairs, third door.’

  ‘Okay. Sit tight, Bri. We’ll get through this, okay? Trust me. Me finding you first makes this your lucky day, okay?’

  Brian nodded but didn’t look entirely convinced. I headed out of the room and up the stairs, confident that he wouldn’t try and run. He’d done all this for his daughter, he wasn’t going to leave her behind. Besides, I was fairly certain he’d swallowed my story. If I hadn’t been telling the truth, surely I’d have killed him by now, right?

  ‘Are you going to hurt my daddy?’

  I stopped at the top of the stairs. Cali peered at me between the banisters.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed?’ I replied, looking back to make sure Brian wasn’t following.

  ‘You’re not my daddy’s friend,’ she said. She was a sharp one, this girl.

  I crouched next to her so we were on the same level. ‘Do you know what’s going on?’ I asked.

  ‘I was dying. Daddy saved me.’

  ‘Well, that’s what a good dad does. Anything for their kid. You should meet my dad, that arsehole hasn’t done a thing for me in a long, long time.’

  Cali nodded but looked worried.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I hear him crying sometimes. I hug him but he says it’s all okay really and I know that can’t properly be true ‘cos you don’t cry if things are okay, do you?’

  I thought about all the times I’d cried as a child after James had gone missing. About hiding under a table, blubbering, ignored by my parents.

  ‘Why are you really here?’ she asked.

  ‘To help,’ I replied, and for once I wasn’t lying. Not completely. I just wasn’t here to help her. But I still felt that annoying bastard guilt gnawing at me. I was here to murder an innocent little girl’s dad. I’d be the thing she grew up hating, just like I hated the thing that took my brother.

  ‘Will he be all right?’ asked Cali.

  ‘Enough talk, okay? Get to bed now.’ Nicely swerved, Erin. I mean, Debbie. I stood and nudged Cali gently back into her room.

  ‘My dad’s like a hero, isn’t he?’ she said. ‘Saving me.’

  ‘Oh, he’s like Batman and Superman all squished together,’ I replied, and closed the door.

  I made my way through to the bathroom, yanked my jeans and underwear down, and took a seat. This trip had turned out to be little more emotionally difficult than I’d imagined it to be. Brian Teller was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill retrieval case. Well, as run-of-the-mill as cases involving ancient demons, a forest full of screaming trees, and a wound in reality could be. But now I wasn’t just taking possession of a man’s soul to fix a break in reality, I was destroying a family. I was breaking a little girl’s heart.

  As I flushed and washed my hands I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked pale, my eyes surrounded by dark, dirty circles.

  ‘He did this to himself, you daft bitch,’ I hissed. ‘He got what he wanted. He made a deal, and now his daughter gets to live.’

  Try as I might though, my conscience was having none of it. The man downstairs wasn’t a villain, he was just a dad trying to do right by his little girl, and I was going to stab him in the heart for it. What had this life made of me? Had spending all this time around monsters finally turned me into one? And was it even my fault if it had? After all, I hadn’t really chosen to become what I was. Circumstances had pushed me this way, had steered me down this dark path.

  Ah, who was I trying to kid? I loved this life. The good, the bad, the sheer, unadulterated thrill of it all. Did that make me a bad person? Who knew? Here’s what I did know for sure: there’s no such thing as a good person. Not really. The world isn’t black and white, it’s a miserable wall of grey. So I kill people? So I run errands for demons? So what? Most of the people I hurt were scum; immoral killers the world was better off without. By and large I was doing good, at least if you looked at it from the right angle. My books might not be balanced, but there was more black in there than red. Probably.

  Brian Teller did what he did, and what he did had consequences. Consequences like Highstaff. Consequences that could affect people who’d done nothing to deserve what the wraiths would do to them. I thought about the woman on the green in Highstaff, upset about her bike, devoured by monsters. I caught my eyes in the mirror again and saw conviction this time. Brian Teller needed to be stopped. He’d got what he wanted, now he had to be stopped before others suffered. He had to die, and if I didn’t do it, someone else would.

  A car pulled to a stop outside and fell silent.

  That someone had just arrived.

  15

  Brian was stood by the window, peeking out through a gap in the curtains.

  ‘Get upstairs,’ I demanded.

  ‘What’s wrong? Is that him? Has he come for me?’

  ‘No questions, just listen. Get upstairs, go to Cali’s room, push the bed against the door and don’t come out till I say so. Got it?’

  ‘What are—?’

  ‘Go!’

  I grabbed his arm and threw him towards the door. He stumbled, startled by my strength, and with one final look back at me, headed for the stairs.

  I stepped to the curtains, peeled one back, and glanced out at the street. Kirklander’s car was parked up outside. He drove a sexy silver Porsche, because of course he did. I’d seen him talk to that car like it was a person. He called it Sylvia after the woman who took his cherry when he was fourteen. Apparently, she was a dinner lady at his school, head of the lunch line. He said he knew that she was into him because she’d always give him a big portion, so he felt it was only right he gave her one in return.

  I appreciate that this is sort of a tense part of the story, with all sorts of things coming to a head, but that’s no excuse to skimp on the details, is it?

  Kirklander stepped out of Sylvia, the tails of his whi
te coat billowing in the breeze. In his hand he held his long, gnarled staff (not a euphemism). He patted the bonnet of his Porsche then strolled towards the cottage, whistling. He pointed his staff at the front door and a bolt of purple light burst from it, ripping the door from its hinges and flinging it down the hallway.

  ‘Knock-knock,’ Kirklander announced, stepping inside.

  Subtle.

  Tattoos glowing with power, I lifted a heavy chair and launched it down the corridor in his direction. Kirklander was fast, pointing the staff at the hurtling furniture, the chair exploding into pieces.

  ‘You know, most people just say, “Hello”, baby,’ he said, having recovered his composure.

  Hot damn did he look good in the moonlight. ‘You nasty, deceitful, sack of dog shit,’ I screamed. ‘I can’t believe you stole my dagger.’

  ‘Okay, now I deserve that. Hands up, I’ve been a very naughty boy.’

  I darted forward, scooped up a sideboard, and hefted it over my head. ‘Yeah, you’ve been naughty. Now here’s your spanking...’

  I launched the sideboard at Kirklander, but he was quick again, aiming his staff at it and unleashing a jolt of magic that blasted the missile to pieces.

  ‘You know, I actually didn’t think you’d be here when I arrived,’ he said. ‘I’m impressed. And you know how much it takes to impress me.’

  ‘Great, I’m so proud that you still underestimate me.’

  Power surging through me, I ducked low and darted at him. He directed a fresh attack my way, but I sidestepped and the purple bolt sailed by me. My shoulder met his chest and I carried him out of the house and down to the ground.

  ‘Give me the dagger!’ I demanded.

  ‘Finders keepers,’ he replied, and tossed me to one side before hopping back up on his feet.

  I found myself next to a small, wrought iron garden gate and wrenched it off its hinges.

  ‘Careful now,’ said Kirklander, hands held up in surrender.

  ‘Promise,’ I replied, tossing it at him like a lethal frisbee.

  As I released the gate, Kirklander spun around, staff pointed at the ground, and a red circle of protection burned into the ground surrounding him. The missile bounced harmlessly off of the invisible cocoon he’d created.

  ‘All you’re doing is delaying the inevitable,’ I snarled. ‘Those circles barely last a couple of minutes. Soon as it putters out, I’m going to knock you the fuck out.’

  ‘Can we just talk like adults for a second?’ asked Kirklander as I paced before him, fists bunched.

  ‘Adults? Can you even spell the word?’

  ‘That’s a low blow, baby, you know I did poorly at school.’

  ‘Too busy shagging the dinner lady?’

  ‘No. Not, all the time. There was my maths teacher too. And P.E. And Biology. And someone who came in to do a Stranger Danger talk once, I think her name was Alison. Huge chest. Smelled like lavender.’

  ‘How could you steal my job from under me like that? How, after what you did to me, can you go ahead and steal my job!’

  ‘It’s a demon job, and those pay the best. How can I turn a blind eye to that? Be reasonable, baby. The bounty will be huge! More than enough to share. I mean, really, it’s me that should be pissed off.’

  I looked at him agog for a few seconds before the power of speech returned. ‘I’m sorry? Come again? I thought I heard you say that it was you that should be pissed off?’

  ‘Who was it that showed you the ropes in this business when you were thrashing around trying to find your place, eh? You were crap before you met me.’

  ‘Who ran out on me and let me go to prison?’

  ‘Who made you orgasm so hard once that you passed out?’

  ‘What?’ I cried. ‘That wasn’t me!’

  ‘Oh. Well, it’s still worth bringing up I think.’

  Oh Christ, what a total and utter bastard.

  ‘Look,’ Kirklander continued, ‘I’m sorry I pretended to be in trouble, I just needed in on this job.’

  ‘Wait, you weren’t in trouble?’

  ‘Not technically, no. Or actually at all.’

  ‘But you were hurt. Badly.’

  ‘Not bad, huh?’

  ‘You did that to yourself?’

  ‘Actually, I paid a woman to do it for me.’ He caught my look. ‘Hey, you’ve got to commit to the bit to sell the con, right? I’ve told you that so many times. Honestly, you never listen to me.’

  ‘So the whole thing was all a game so you could steal the Soul Dagger and finish the job yourself?’

  Kirklander smiled and shrugged. ‘What can I say, I’m good at what I do.’

  I sagged and ran my hands through my hair, grunting with frustration.

  ‘I didn’t want to do this alone,’ said Kirklander.

  ‘I did,’ I replied.

  ‘I said we should do this together. Man, I miss us. Working together. Being together. Can’t we just pick up like things were before? Me and you, on the same side.’

  ‘You left me for the cops, Kirklander.’

  ‘I didn’t have a choice.’

  ‘There’s always a choice.’

  ‘If we’d both been caught, what good would that have done?’ he replied. ‘It’s not like I was going to leave you in there.’

  My forehead wrinkled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I was pulling favours all over the place, trying to get you out. Ask anyone. I would have pulled it off sooner or later, just the Long Man got there first.’

  What was this? Another lie? It was hard to tell. His eyes seemed truthful, but it’s like he just said, you commit to the con, and he’d fooled me more times than I cared to mention.

  ‘Trust me, baby.’

  ‘How can I trust anything that comes out of your mouth?’ That perfect mouth, those big cushiony lips.

  The burning circle of protection surrounding Kirklander flickered and died. He braved a step in my direction. ‘The things I said to you in bed earlier? Those weren’t lies.’

  ‘I want to believe you,’ I replied.

  ‘You can. You have to.’

  ‘Never lie to me again.’

  Kirklander brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. ‘I promise.’

  I reached up and pulled his mouth towards mine, our lips crushing together, tongues hungry, hearts thumping. Finally we parted, gasping for air.

  ‘Let’s finish this job together,’ said Kirklander.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, and smashed my forehead into the bridge of his nose.

  Blood exploded from his face as Kirklander staggered back, arms windmilling, his staff clattering noisily to the ground (again, not a euphemism).

  ‘I’m one-hundred percent on board with you,’ I said, punching him hard in the solar plexus.

  Bones cracked beneath my knuckles and Kirklander collapsed to the ground with a pained grunt.

  ‘Baby…’ he gasped, hugging his shattered ribs, staring up at me with a blood goatee.

  ‘Don’t “baby” me, dickless,’ I stepped forward and stamped on his ankle.

  A scream erupted from him as bones shattered beneath my boot.

  I picked up his staff and stepped towards the writhing Kirklander.

  ‘You… tricked me…’ he said, words squeezing out between teeth clenched in pain.

  ‘I suppose I was listening to your lessons after all.’

  Despite the agony, Kirklander began to laugh, blood bubbling out of his mouth. ‘You know we’re made for each other, right?’

  ‘Yeah. Probably.’

  And then I broke Kirklander’s staff over his head, knocking him the fuck out.

  16

  I tossed the broken staff aside and crouched beside the unconscious Kirklander, rifling through the pockets of his coat until I found what I was looking for: the Soul Dagger.

  ‘Ha!’ I said, holding it aloft, the moonlight bouncing off its black, polished blade.

  I planted a kiss on Kirklander’
s forehead. Even unconscious and bloody, he still looked hot AF.

  ‘Brian, it’s all good down here,’ I called into the house. ‘Come on, get a move on, we’ve gotta go!’

  Silence.

  ‘Brian?’

  I ran up the staircase two steps at a time. The door to Cali’s bedroom wasn’t closed, wasn’t barred by a bed like I’d asked. No, the door was wide open and the room was empty.

  ‘Shit.’

  Outside, a car engine roared into life.

  ‘Shit, shit!’

  I ran back downstairs and out of the cottage to see a minivan tearing away with Brian at the wheel. He surged past me, through the garden fence, and out onto the road.

  ‘Shit, shitty, shit!’

  As the minivan containing Brian and Cali raced away, I kicked at Kirklander in frustration. My car was parked too far away to give chase. Then my eyes fell on the Porsche parked in front of the cottage.

  ‘Happy, happy, days…’ I quickly relieved Kirklander of his car keys, slipped behind the wheel, got the engine growling, and screamed off in pursuit.

  I was pretty sure that Sylvia going missing would piss Kirklander off more than the lost bounty, the broken bones, and his knackered staff combined. I laughed like a loon as I pictured his waking face, his eyes falling upon the empty space where Sylvia should have been parked. I imagined the sound that would fly from his blood-encrusted mouth, the anger, the pure anguish of it. And I laughed some more.

  ‘Never cross a bad bitch,’ I said, grinning. Then sort of instantly regretted saying it, and was relieved that no one was around to hear me.

  Brian’s speeding minivan hoved into view as I pressed the accelerator to the floor, taking the winding country roads at insane speeds. Brian was a hell of a driver, but this was a tortoise and hare situation. Except the hare was going to win, so really it wasn’t like that at all. Shut up.

  I honked my horn furiously, but the minivan didn’t slow.

  The road opened up and I switched lanes, manoeuvring Sylvia until I was side-by-side with the minivan. Brian looked over, eyes wild, Cali in the passenger side, seatbelt on. I smiled and waved, and Cali actually waved back.