That freaked Santos out a little, I think. His eyes went wide, and he started backing away, but I reached out, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulled him to me. He opened his mouth to say something, but I tossed him to the left, slamming his head into a fold-up metal chair leaning against the wall. I had to give it to him—for such a skinny guy, his skull was pretty damn hard. It left a good-sized dent in the chair, but the chair won, and Santos slid to the floor, unconscious.
With Miguel and Santos out of the picture, I turned to Marco and the rest of his gang, ready to fight until Julio’s body had nothing left to give. Instead, Marco looked at me with a genuine smile on his face and started clapping.
“I knew it was still you,” he said, handing his wooden sword back to one of his guys as he approached me.
Part of me wanted to kill him just for ruining my afternoon, but the other half of me was too stunned to act.
“You can go back to your own body now,” he said. “You and me are totally cool.”
“You don’t need to teach me a lesson anymore?”
He waved a hand in the air, like he pushed aside the notion.
“I was just talking shit,” he said, motioning to Miguel and Santos on the floor. “I heard you’ve been acting pretty strange lately, amigo. And I gotta admit, when I walked in here, I didn’t think that was really you. You looked like John, but something was off. I thought maybe someone was possessing you! But after watching you in action, I’m convinced. You’re as mean as ever—just the way I like you.”
I nodded and wiped some blood from Julio’s mouth before stumbling back to John’s motionless body. Before leaving Julio, I twisted the knife in his bicep one more time to make sure it really hurt. As soon as I was back in John’s body, the first sound I heard was Julio screaming his bloody head off.
Before I could tell him to keep the noise down, Marco delivered a solid blow to the back of Julio’s head and knocked him out.
Back inside John’s body, my mind recalled Julio’s pendant. I wasn’t about to touch that thing while Marco was still around, but it was too powerful to let them have it back. With a casual kick, I sent papers flying into the air behind me so they covered the magical piece of jewelry when they landed.
Marco looked me over.
“What’s going on with you, man?” he said with a laugh that showed off his gold-capped front tooth. “Not getting enough sleep? I have some pills that will help with that if you need something.”
His crew—besides the three he’d sent after me—started laughing, and I did too. Not because anything was funny, but because it seemed like the kind of thing John would have done.
“Seriously,” Marco said, with eyes that were suddenly cold. “What is going on with you? Miguel said you were acting like you didn’t know him or me last night.”
I nodded toward Miguel who was weeping quietly on the floor.
“How could I ever forget you? Like I said before, Miguel’s the problem. He’s the one who didn’t know what was going on and the one who attacked me. He’s lucky he’s still alive.”
Marco shook his head with a frown and glanced down at Miguel.
“I’ll have a talk with him later. In the meantime, I’m glad we’re good again. I heard you had a falling out with the big guy—that you were gone, or dead, or whatever the hell happens when things like you get disappeared.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, shrugging. “Ahriman and I are still tight. He’s stopping by on Monday, as a matter of fact.”
Marco smiled then clapped me on the shoulder.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he said. “Now that I know everything’s cool, I’ll be back tomorrow with the delivery. Same time as always.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster, even though I had no idea what he was talking about.
Marco raised his left eyebrow.
“You do that. And be ready with my payment. I’ve been waiting all week for Friday, and I’ll be ready to party.”
I nodded and reminded myself to talk with Sybil about finding some money. I may have been a demon, but Marco was a scary guy, and despite being human, he knew more about this place and how it worked than I did. And even though I’d just beaten three of his thugs, that was only because of dumb luck.
Next time, I was certain Marco and his people wouldn’t be so careless.
I watched as they picked up their wounded and left the store.
They were out of sight before I walked over and picked up Julio’s silver pendant and examined it more closely. It was circular with a stylized face in the middle of it that was sticking its tongue out—a monster as best I could tell—maybe even a demon. As I held it, I felt suddenly weak and sick to my stomach.
I set the pendant down at the far corner of my desk and stepped away, taking a deep breath as my strength returned. Returning to the main part of the store, I was amazed it hadn’t been completely destroyed. The only damage was to the metal chair that still bore the imprint of Santos’s head and to the floor that was smeared with blood in several areas.
I sighed and went to find a mop.
When I returned, the blood stains were gone, and Shadow sat in the middle of the floor, licking his jowls.
I looked at the closed door to the store, then behind me, expecting Sybil to be with him. But the dog had come alone.
“You came back,” I said, looking out the window again for Sybil, who was still nowhere to be seen. “But how’d you get in here?”
I plopped down in the comfy chair again and looked at Shadow and his deceptively cute, eye-patched face.
“If you and I could only talk for a minute, I bet you could tell me a thing or two about this place, couldn’t you?”
Shadow pranced up to me, wagging his tail, and I patted the top of his rock-hard head. Then he barked once and ran to the back of the store.
Chapter 21
A MINUTE LATER, Shadow returned with a pair of dark-lensed, black goggles in his jaws.
After cleaning them on the leg of my jeans, I put them on, and when I did, I almost lost my shit. Literally.
Shadow, the cute dog with a penchant for blood was no longer there. In his place stood a huge beast covered in mottled black fur, towering above me by a foot. His eyes glowed a deep red, and his teeth were as deadly as ice picks.
Ripping the goggles from my face, I backed away and stumbled over the arm of the chair. When I looked again, the Shadow I’d grown used to was back.
I tried to clear my head before putting the goggles on again. This time I was prepared for the giant devil dog that reappeared as soon as I had them on.
I calmed my breathing and eased back into the chair.
The monstrous Shadow lowered his massive head and nudged my hand, asking for me to pet him. I reached out with a shaky hand and rubbed the fur on his chest.
I couldn’t tell for sure, but I thought he grinned as I worked my fingers through his thick coat of hair.
My mouth dropped open when I looked at my hand and saw its deep red and purple-black skin and black, claw-like fingernails.
A chill ran through my spine as I flashed back to Sybil’s true face and wondered if my face was as horrific.
I eased myself around Shadow and walked up to the store window. It wasn’t going to be the same as seeing myself in a mirror, but that’s why I chose it—so I could view myself the way a child looks at his first horror film through spread fingers covering his eyes.
When I stared into the window’s reflection, I saw John’s more-or-less human face staring back. My hair was thick and black, and I was handsome in a dark, diabolical way. I even had a few scars on my face that made me wonder how John had earned them. My forearms were veined and muscular, and even though I wore a shirt, I could tell that my chest was huge. What surprised me the most were the two black, bone-like protrusions sprouting out from my forehead. My horns weren’t as large as Ahriman’s, but they left no doubt that I was a proper
demon.
I wondered how many times in my former life I’d walked past a demon or spoken to one without knowing. I took a deep breath and stepped outside into the Ashburn twilight to take a real look at my surroundings for the first time.
What I saw through the dark lenses of the goggles made me catch my breath.
Most of the people in the parking lot were clearly human, but there were also a lot of other creatures walking around that were anything but. Some had skin the same coloration as mine, whereas others were black with green highlights, and one had skin of the darkest blue. Most had horns jutting from their heads, but others had bony protrusions sticking out from their shoulders, backs, and legs. One even dragged a reptilian tail behind it.
The fact that there were demons everywhere wasn’t what fascinated me the most. It was the town of Ashburn itself that was the most stunning. The boring suburb shimmered and glowed in bright reds, greens, yellows, and blues. Energy trailed from or surrounded the demons themselves, but many of the brightest concentrations of energy were located at the entrances to stores, around various cars, and attached to pieces of nature, like the trees, the rocks, and even some patches of grass.
I turned to check out the door to Bangrak Thai and saw that it was bathed in intense, pulsing white energy. I looked at the doorknob to my store, Ancient Pages, and saw that it was glowing red.
Across Claiborne Parkway, the paved walking path that stretched alongside the road was protected by a canopy of white energy that covered the trail for as far as I could see in both directions.
When I held my hand out in front of me, it crackled with red and orange energy, and when I looked past my hand to the sky above, I saw Ashburn for the prison it was.
“Ahriman, you piece of shit,” I said out loud in a whisper. Far above me, the sky shimmered with black energy that formed an enormous dome around the town—the same wall of magic that had kept me from leaving the day before.
At least I could see the bars of my cage. But given the fact I had to wear my goggles to do so, I wondered how many of Ashburn’s supernatural beings could say the same.
Finally, I understood why John wore his goggles all the time. Knowing immediately whether something was a human, a demon, or a god would provide a clear advantage in almost any situation.
Forcing myself to turn away from the magical world of Ashburn, I went back inside, took off the goggles, and sat down, trying to process what I’d just seen. I looked at my arm, pale and white, with normal fingers and fingernails. Shadow sat down at my feet, once more a sweet, cuddly dog with a black eyepatch of fur.
“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I said, looking down at him. He cocked his head and raised his ears. He might have been a demonic hellhound that could travel across town in an instant, but he was also becoming the closest thing I had to a friend in Ashburn, and I rubbed his head warmly.
“Thanks for the present,” I said. “At least I can see what’s going on now.”
I gave his thick chest fur another vigorous rub. He sat up straighter and made a comforting noise of bliss. We were having a real moment before he curled his body inward and started licking his private parts.
“Good boy,” was all I could think to say, but as I watched him behaving like a normal dog, his true form flashed through my mind again. He stopped his licking and stared up at me as if he could read my thoughts. I stared into his eyes, and somehow I could tell he was comfortable with what he was—both a loyal pet and a vicious, demonic beast.
I decided it was time to follow his lead—to embrace who and what I had become—to accept my new life and to play the long game Rose had suggested.
When I reached down to pet him again, his hackles stood on end, and a second later, one of the runners who’d flipped me off the day before rushed into the store.
The stranger bent over with his hands on his thighs, trying to gulp down enough air to catch his breath. He held up his hand palm toward me while he composed himself. Shadow started into a low growl, and I slowly slipped my goggles back on to assess my new visitor.
What I saw was—unexpected.
He was surrounded by magic—not as white as the energy that spilled out of Rose’s restaurant, but close. He was good looking enough to be unsettling with white hair to his shoulders and a face that was too perfect and which lacked the normal lines and creases of age. Two ashy-gray wings protruded from his shoulder blades, ruining his otherwise pristine appearance. They might have once been as white as his hair, but they were covered in gray dust and seemed old and unused now.
I couldn’t be sure, but as best as I could tell, a fallen angel had just entered my store.
Chapter 22
ANGEL GUY WATCHED me as I pretended to be unfazed by his presence.
I’d spent the last two days dealing with demons and a goddess who ran a Thai joint, and I had no problem accepting their existence. But for some reason, learning that angels were real disturbed me.
“Looking for a book about running?” I asked, clearing my throat. “Or maybe a copy of Dante’s Inferno?”
“You’re funnier than usual,” the angel said, still breathing heavily. “I don’t like being here any more than you do, Hell spawn. But there’s been an accident involving one of the humans at the corner of Claiborne and Waxpool. You need to get there right away.”
The runner turned away and left the store. He stood on the sidewalk, stretching.
I looked down at Shadow and he looked up at me. I could tell we were both thinking the same thing—if angel guy expected us to break into a run and follow him, he was crazy.
For a moment, I considered ignoring him altogether. But I was pretty sure angels weren’t known for being big liars. So I locked up the store—again—and headed for my car with Shadow following at my heel.
When I turned to ask the angel if he wanted a ride, he was already running across the parking lot toward Claiborne, his useless wings flapping behind him like two kites struggling to get airborne. He may have been a glorious, heavenly solider at one point in his existence, but from what I could see, that was a long time ago.
As the sky started to turn to evening, Shadow and I hopped in the car, and within seconds, we were on Claiborne Parkway, passing the angel who was running on the asphalt walking path that snaked alongside the road.
I looked up and saw him flip me off in my rear-view mirror as he passed under one of the lamps that had just turned on and was illuminating the trail. Maybe he was pissed off at John for some reason. Or maybe his anger management issues were the reason he’d fallen from grace in the first place. I didn’t know and didn’t care.
As I hit the gas, I braced myself for whatever was coming next.
The flashing red and blue lights of three police cars and the ambulance blocked the intersection at the next light while one officer directed traffic around the wreck. I didn’t feel like I belonged there, but I pulled over behind one of the police cars and stepped out.
I looked back and pointed at Shadow.
“Stay here, boy.”
He looked at me briefly then jumped out and followed me. If dogs could laugh, I had a feeling he would have been holding his belly. I shook my head and headed for the group of police officers. A few feet from where they stood, EMTs worked on a lone figure sprawled in the middle of the road.
One of the cops walked toward me, holding a flashlight, and nodded.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” he said. His words were welcoming, but the micro expressions of disgust and contempt on his face told me he wasn’t happy about seeing me at all. It was a sentiment I’d encountered more than once when I worked as a private investigator for a few years in the ‘90s. More often than not, I was just a glorified peeping Tom, following cheating spouses and taking photos through half-open blinds.
“What’s going on?” I said, noting the name on his badge read, Boreman.
He motioned for me to follow him. The EMTs had stopped their work and covered the body with a white blanket t
o shield the sight from passersby. One of the EMTs paused as he packed up his bag. He looked up at the Sheriff and shook his head.
“We have a problem,” the Sheriff said to me as he squatted next to the body. With the beam of his flashlight pointed at the body, he pulled the blanket back enough to reveal the face of a middle-aged woman whose only obvious sin was that she’d spent too much time in the sun.
“Was she hit by a car?” I said.
“I don’t think so,” he said, pulling back the sheet farther so I could see the woman’s undamaged torso. Her tee-shirt wasn’t torn, and her makeup looked as if it had just been applied.
Behind me, Shadow let out a deep growl, and I felt a breeze on my back as the angel stepped up beside me.
“Thanks for fetching him, Raziel,” the Sheriff said.
“Other than being dead, she looks pretty good,” I said. “I’m not sure how I can help her.”
“I grew up in Alaska in a small town called Whittier,” the Sheriff said. “I saw a lot of strange things there, believe me. And this here—it just feels wrong. Maybe she had a heart attack, but my gut says something else is going on—something that falls under your area of expertise.”
“Why is that?” I asked, not wanting to know the answer.
“We have a witness who saw it happen,” the Sheriff said, leaning in to me, like he was afraid someone else would hear him. “He saw her crossing the street the same time a car turned onto Claiborne and cut her off.”
“Sounds like a hit and run,” I said, but the Sheriff and Raziel both shook their heads.
“The witness is on record as saying, quote—an invisible force—end quote, picked her up, held her three feet in the air and then dropped her. And that is why you are here, John.”
Both the Sheriff and Raziel stared at me, waiting for me to say something about the crime scene. The problem was, I wasn’t John, and none of what I was thinking made any sense.
Ashburn_A [Sub] Urban Fantasy Novel Page 12
