by Hunter Blain
We walked to a side road where Lily’s pink Rolls-Royce was parked.
“Shotgun!” I exclaimed pointlessly as I moved to the passenger side.
“Actually, I might need you to drive,” Lily grumbled. I could tell she wasn’t enjoying her weakened state.
I nodded and held the passenger door open as Lily walked around and slid in. After closing the door, I went to the driver’s side, got in, and pushed the start button. Oh, the power of this pink beast! I revved the engine a few times, as all guys do when first getting into a new car, and put the Rolls into gear.
“Might I suggest the long way around?”
“Right,” I agreed, first going north and then swinging back around to approach the cemetery from the west.
We passed a woman on the side of the road as she chatted on her phone about her flat tire, and it took everything in me not to slam on the brakes and drain her dry. The thought of Magni as a small child flashed in my head, and my resolve instantly redoubled in strength. I could feel myself scowling at my own weakness, though I was able to forgive myself for my dark thoughts given the circumstances.
After about thirty minutes of silent driving, we parked and I quickly got out to get Lily’s door for her again.
“What a gentleman,” Lily said with a half-smile. I extended my hand and she grabbed it, putting more effort into standing than I had anticipated.
We made our way to my mausoleum and I stood at the door before flipping the fake stone to reveal a pin pad.
“Ah, crap,” I lamented.
“What?”
“Don’t know the code.”
“How do you not know the code to your own house?”
“Lair, and Locke texted it to me—at least Depweg said he was going to have him do it—but my phone is gone either way,” I said, holding up my bare wrist. An idea came to me and I said, “Wait!” before randomly typing in numbers.
“Thought you didn’t know the code.”
“I don’t.”
After half a minute, a sound came from the speaker attached to the pin pad.
“John? Is that you?” Locke asked.
“Yeah, can you let us in?”
“Why are you naked except for your coat and…” Locke trailed off. “Is that a new beanie? It looks…different.”
I looked down and noticed he was right about my blatant nudity. Knowing Locke was watching me on the camera, I covered my junk with both hands before I humbly realized only one was needed. I pulled my coat flaps closed with my free hand.
“Long story. Well, not really. Just open up!”
A buzz sounded and the door opened. Lily and I entered and made our way down the stairs to my Fortress of Solitaire.
I opened the front door and was greeted by Locke standing in the kitchen by the door.
“Did you not get the code I texted?”
“New phone. Who dis?” I said, holding up my bare wrist again.
“Another one, John?”
“Yeah. You might as well buy some in bulk next time,” I said, moving to the fridge under the countertop. It was full of hanging bags of blood, minus the two I had had earlier. I grabbed one, stuck my finger through the cellophane top, and tilted the bag up as I brought the hole to my lips. I all but inhaled the bag, squeezing every last drop before dropping the bag on the counter and grabbing another.
“Hey! You’re getting blood on my quartz!” Locke pointed out, agitated.
“We still on this whole ‘your’ thing?” I asked with squinted eyes and air quotes.
“Bad habit, I suppose,” Locke answered, mirroring my squinting gaze.
“Power struggle much?” I said in my Ace Ventura tone as I downed another bag. My skin prickled with pleasure as I drank deeply.
Lily disappeared into my room without a word. Even Tiny Tim stopped yipping at her when he sensed something was off, sniffing the air as she walked by.
As my door shut, Locke arched an eyebrow while thumbing toward my room and whispered, “What’s up with her?”
“She just saved the universe,” I said flatly without any levity. “Let her nap.”
Locke stared at me with a deadpan expression. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” I answered as I downed another bag. I was surprised at how much energy I was getting out of them. They weren’t enough to fill even a tenth of my ancient well of power, but shit, for them to fill even just the floor was impressive. The last time I topped off my tanks was when I raided the Huntsville prison and ate over a hundred prisoners. I had justified it by telling myself I was going into an epic creation-saving battle and needed all the energy I could get, and they were naughty men to have wound up in Huntsville.
I had always wondered how much energy I got per human donor. Maybe now would be a good time to test that theory.
“So, ah, why are you naked?” Locke asked, doing his best to look me in the eye.
“Thought I felt a breeze,” I said, moving my coat and putting my hands on my hips like a superhero. Locke continued to stare at me while shaking his head. Realizing who my audience was, I quickly covered up and said, “Ew, Locke. I’m not gay, bro.”
Without missing a beat, Locke countered with, “Neither am I. But if I were, I could do better than you,” and sauntered off to sit on the couch. Using his phone, he turned on the TV and flipped through shows on Hu-flix.
“Do I have my own series yet?” I asked as I walked toward my door while drinking more casually now that the emergency was over. Sometimes it was okay to stop and smell the roses, as they say.
“Afraid not. Have you contacted their corporate office and pitched the idea?”
“Pfft, no. They’ll come to me if they want it so badly.”
“Right. There’s always YouTube, I suppose.”
I walked into my room, careful to open the door as quietly as I could. Lily was lying in my coffin with the false bed lifted on its hydraulics, too tired to close the lid.
Tiptoeing, I made my way to my dresser and pulled out the clothes Taylor had made for me. I pulled the shirt and pants on before finishing with 100% black cotton socks. Standing, I looked down at myself and felt the Fae silk under my fingertips. The outfit would have survived the flame attack had I been wearing it, all except my boots. I could wear the shoes the Faerie King had made for me, but damn. I could only stand so much shiny silk. Then again, the clothing was also Fae armor, so there was that.
“Ah, crap,” I said to myself before quickly covering my mouth and turning to look at Lily.
“What is it, John?” Lily asked, turning over onto her back and briefly lifting herself to look at me before resting back down, as if the action of even hoisting her head up was too much.
“I don’t have any spare Doc Martens.”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a whole collection with how bad you are with your belongings.”
“Hey, I’m only hard on clothes—”
“And phones,” she interrupted before yawning deeply.
“And phones. An-and cars. But, my Battlefield Earth collectable cups are still in pristine condition!” The image of King Oberon shifting planes and creating a shock wave that destroyed my cups tapped on my shoulder. “Ah, shit!”
“Mm-hmm,” Lily drawled as she started drifting off again.
“I’m going to have to start all over now. You know how hard it’ll be to find all the cups?”
“Maybe you can check the landfills first.”
I padded over the laminate floors in my fresh socks and knelt by the coffin.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” I asked caringly, surprising myself.
“No, sweet John,” Lily whispered, barely opening her eyes as she rested a cold hand on my cheek. “I just need to rest for a bit. Then I’ll be right as rain.” Her eyes opened sternly for a moment as if realizing something important. “I do need to talk to you when I wake, though.”
“Okay,” I whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Want me to shut the l
id? You’ll be safe in there.”
She nodded her head in answer and I lowered the cover as gently as I could. When it was closed, I looked at the coffin holding Lily and mouthed, “Alligator food.” Though I spoke the words without using any air, I knew if Lily had been watching, it would have looked like I said something different.
13
I quietly closed my door, holding the handle in the twisted position until the last second when I ever so slowly released it.
Turning, I saw Locke still sitting on the couch and asked just above a whisper, “What shoe size does Ludvig wear?”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Locke countered without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Hallo!” Ludvig said right beside me.
“WHOA!” I yelped before jerking my head back toward my door and then back to Ludvig and whispering, “Whoa!”
“What?” Lude asked, putting a quarter of a freshly made sandwich in his mouth and biting down.
“You scared the shit outta me!” I whispered harshly.
Lude caught the tone of my voice and leaned in while whispering, “Why are we whispering?” around a mouthful of food.
“Lily’s asleep in there. Hey, what shoe size do you wear?”
“American size twelve,” he said, straightening back up, swallowing, and taking another mammoth bite. I saw that he had a plate with three other sandwiches on it. “What’s wid da shiny clothes?”
Ignoring his last question, I said, “Shit. I wear an eleven. And you better be buying that bread with your own damn money! You’re gonna make me go broke.”
“Highly unlikely,” Locke interjected from the couch.
I turned my head to glare at him. “Any other jokes you wanna outright ruin for me? Hmm?”
“I’ll determine that as they come up,” Locke said flatly. Then he lifted his eyes from the screen to regard me and asked, “So what happened tonight? I’ve never seen her like that before. And you…well, you cleaned out what I anticipated to be a year’s supply of blood in only a few minutes.”
“Silver found me,” I answered. Locke sat bolt upright, pressed pause on his phone, and stared at me.
“Care to elaborate?”
I told Ludvig, who was already halfway through his second sandwich, and Locke what had happened, leaving the part about Heaven out. That was just for me, and maybe Depweg. Oh, and definitely Father Thomes—he would be delighted.
“Hey! Where’s Depweg?”
“He hasn’t been back since you guys left.”
“Oh, Lilith,” I exhaled.
“Oh shit,” Locke mirrored, understanding dawning.
“What?” Lude asked, finishing the last of his food. Damn, he would make a werewolf blush with how much he ate.
“Asmodeus,” I drawled.
I pulled up my hand, cursed at the lack of phone, and looked at Locke, who simply responded with, “On it.” He brought up his phone, went to his favorites, and dialed Depweg. It rang and rang with no answer.
Locke looked at me and shook his head with growing concern.
“May-maybe that old phone of his doesn’t work anymore?” I asked with forced hope.
“It would be on the same network. I made sure to give it back to him before you guys left.”
“Are you sure? Cause my phone didn’t work when I got back.”
“You were gone ten years the first time. He’s been gone, what, three years? Three and a half? His phone is still viable,” Locke said as he hung up. I extended my hands in a gesture of “WTF!” when he responded with, “It went to voice mail.”
“Can you track him?”
“Great idea! Do dat,” Ludvig suggested, downing what I assumed to be a chocolate-flavored protein shake.
“You have selective hearing or something?”
“What do you mean?” Ludvig asked, puzzled.
“You hear ‘track’ and your ears perk right the fuck up.” I had sounded more hostile than I had intended, and it showed on Lude’s slightly hurt face. “I-I’m sorry, man. I’m just worried.”
Locke lowered his phone and shook his head. “His phone must be off.”
“Or broken,” I said just below a whisper as I looked down at my bare wrist and turned my hand over in the air.
“What do we do?” Locke asked, getting to his feet. It struck me how odd it was that he was almost my height now, considering that by my time line he had had a baby body only about seven or eight months ago.
“I desperately need to feed, but will search for him while I hunt. Lude,” I pointed at the huge Swede, “Lilith, have you gotten bigger?” I asked, getting thrown off my train of thought.
Ludvig flexed while standing a little straighter, beaming as he said, “Two eighty-seven.”
“Was that before or after you ate an entire generation of whatever meat was on those sandwiches?”
“It was dis morn—”
I interrupted, “Doesn’t matter. Where’s Magni? I want as many feet on the prize and eyes on the ground as possible.”
“I fink he’s playing Nintendo in his room.”
“Nintendo? What is this, 1990? Go get him.” I turned to Locke. “Where’s Joey?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t talk much and didn’t say where he was going.”
“Crap!” I barked, bringing my fist to my mouth as I thought. “Is there any warlocky stuff you can do?”
“War…locky?” he asked, more clarifying his indignation rather than making sure he understood what I meant.
“Yes, dude! Can you do some sort of tracking spell?”
“Ye-yes! I still have some of his teeth.”
“Get on it. How long will it take?”
“To do it properly will take about six or seven minutes. Maybe as quick as five.”
“Okay. I’m going to head to Father Thomes’ to see how long ago he left. He might actually still be there,” I conveyed, trying to convince myself as much as the rest of the group.
Magni walked out of his room holding a handheld Nintendo console. “What’s up?” he asked, looking around the room.
The front door opened and a sullen, deflated Depweg entered.
“Depweg!” I cried out as Locke said, “Jonathan!”
“Ludvig!” Ludvig added, shaking his head and throwing up his hands. The whisk ball in his shaker cup bounced back and forth with his movements.
Depweg closed the door and stared at the ground as if he weren’t able to lift his head due to the weight of his thoughts.
Striding over to him, I grabbed both his shoulders tightly and asked, “Dude, are you alright?”
“No. No, I’m pretty fucking far from alright.” I didn’t have the heart to point out the movie reference because I could tell he was serious.
“What happened?” Locke asked, coming up beside us. I shot him a cursory glance with a micro-scowl before returning to Depweg.
“I spoke to Father Philseep at great length. He said…” Depweg took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and almost struggled to lift his head before opening his eyes again. “He said the only way to make up for the slaughter I allowed in Mexico would be to sacrifice myself, or spend the next hundred years in the church’s employ.”
“Well, hey, that last part doesn’t sound so bad. We were going to do that anyway, right?” I said, trying to comfort my friend.
“There’re a few major issues with that,” Depweg said with heavy eyes.
“Wh-what is it?”
“First being that you told Father Thomes the world was going to end in five years, which is not enough time to cleanse my soul of the tar it has bathed in. Second, Father Thomes isn’t going to be alive for much longer. You know it. I know it. Father Thomes knows it. It will be near impossible to convince another priest of his repute to take me on with what I did in Mexico.”
Oh Lilith, he was right.
Shoving my finger in his face, I demanded, “Don’t you dare go out of your damn way to sacrifice yourself for us, you fucking hear me?” I almost
growled at him, knowing my best friend was already the type to throw himself on a grenade for his friends; now he would be looking for the grenade rather than just letting it come.
“What choice do I have?” he returned the ferocity of my demand.
My mind shot to Dawson. He was in Hell, not having had enough time to bleach his soul. My finger went flaccid at the thought, curling back into place as I slowly let my arm fall away.
“Do you trust me?” I asked with genuine sincerity while looking him right in the eyes.
After a few moments, he said, “You know I do, John.”
“Then trust me when I say that I need to go to Hell.”
I felt the energy of the whole house change in an instant as everyone shot their gazes to me.
“A new ally told me about a scroll, or scrolls, in Hell that can help us avert the apocalypse,” I informed the team, omitting the part about saving Dawson while I was there.
“And how, pray tell, do you plan on getting there?” Locke asked, crossing his arms dubiously.
“Silver’s staff. It has the Spear of Destiny on the tip. It can send my soul to Hell without having to die,” I explained.
“Oh, God. Silver has the Spear of Destiny?” Locke asked, covering his mouth. “There’s no fucking way we can stop him now.” His face shifted to the ground while he squeezed his eyes shut.
“He’s but a man, is he not?” I countered.
Flicking his focus to me, Locke aggressively asked, “How many times have you faced him? Hmm? How many tally marks are in your win column against the most powerful warlock on this plane?”
“I didn’t have you guys with me, before,” I said, gesturing to the room. “Except you,” I quickly added, pointing at Depweg. “You need to lie low.”
“Or you can use me as bait,” Depweg suggested.
“Lilith damn it! Can you get off this whole sacrificing yourself kick?”
“Look, I said I trust you. Now tell me this isn’t something I would suggest despite my conversation with Father Philseep? Besides, I am a valuable tool to be utilized in drawing in the warlock.”
“That and we had already decided this was the most favorable course of action against Silver,” Locke added.
