80 Proof Hex_Deckland Cain 2

by D Michael Bartsch

  Bones snapped as the side of Maccus’s face disappeared in a burst of brackish blood. He dropped, his knees giving out as he collapsed to the dirt.

  Cat screamed and leaped forward with the sacrificial knife. Raphael didn’t even bother turning toward her. His left arm reached out behind him, almost as if it moved on its own volition, and caught Cat by the throat. She clawed at his gauntlet, swinging the knife in an arc and bringing it down on his glowing vambrace. The knife shattered, spraying shards of rock into her face. She screamed as jagged pieces of the blade bit into her skin.

  Raphael tossed her, almost casually, and she rag-dolled through the air, landing in a heap fifteen feet away. Her body rolled in the dirt for a few feet before stopping. She rolled over and cradled her bloody face. I couldn’t help but feel another smug sense of satisfaction at everything that was happening.

  Despite it all, Alastair stood his ground within his circle. He looked calm, too calm for a man standing face to face with an Archangel who had just trashed two of his friends.

  Raphael turned to him, summoning his gladius. The fiery sword seemed to grow out of his hand, the flames leaping up and swirling together to form the blade. Tendrils of fire danced along the length of it.

  “I must say, I underestimated you, Mr. Cain.” Alastair looked to me, ignoring Raphael completely as if one of the most powerful creatures in the universe wasn’t something that deserved even a hint of his attention. “I can see now why the Lord of Hate holds you in such contempt.”

  I was too tired to do anything but give him the finger. Even that was rough.

  Raphael ignored us both, going about his Angelic business. “For the practice of blood magic of the darkest and most vile kind, I, Raphael, Archangel of the Lord, Protector of the Innocent and Steward of Earth, sentence you to death. The sentence to be carried out immediately by myself.”

  Alastair flicked a glance at the Angel then. There was anger in his eyes, a disdain that defied logic. “You presume to pass judgment on me?” Alastair asked. “You dare to address me in such a way. I, the human who bound you so easily. Judgment cannot be passed on your betters. You are a slave!”

  Raphael swung his gladius, a sweeping overhead strike that he brought down with both hands. The blade hit the boundary of Alastair’s circle and erupted. Flames spread across the surface. I held my hand to my face, shielding my eyes from the blinding light as a ball of hungry fire raged across the circle. I could feel the heat washing over me and welcomed it. I’d forgotten how cold I’d been.

  I squinted as the flames twisted into a violent tornado that engulfed Raphael as well as the circle. The pillar of fire swelled, reaching up into the sky as it devoured the air. A hot wind rushed all around me as I watched. The ground around me turned into a dust storm, swirling sands pelting my bare skin.

  Inside the flames, I could make out two figures, shadows in the light. I was witnessing the awesome power of Heaven, and despite it, Alastair was standing firm. He was standing face to face with an Archangel and refused to die. Hell, he refused to even blink.

  Raphael bellowed one last growl that I felt more than heard over the roaring of the flames, and the swirling pillar broke apart. The lights all went out. Tendrils of fire spun off, streaking through the air before burning out. We were plunged back into darkness. I opened my eyes, straining to see as they adjusted.

  Raphael stood in the center of a glowing ring, the dirt so hot that it was radiating heat. His gladius shown, a lone light straining against the darkness. Through it all, Alastair hadn’t moved. He still stood within his little silver hula hoop, the ground within perfectly fine. Despite the power Raphael had unleashed, it wasn’t enough.

  I looked back to the ground at my feet. If I could get more mud, I could break the circle. I was out of luck though. The heat had dried the blood and the winds had spread it all across the desert around me.

  Alastair spoke with an eerie calm. “You hold no power over me. I have learned the secrets of power you could never dream of. You are nothing to me.”

  He didn’t seem to care that despite the fact that Raphael couldn’t get in, he couldn’t get out either. Raphael could easily starve him out.

  For all his fiery temper, Raphael didn’t take the bait. He lowered his gladius, dropping his hand to the side and letting the flaming sword dissipate into the air. He walked around the circle, studying the silver ring.

  “You’ve tremendous power for one of the Children.” He looked up at Alastair and stared at him. “Especially for one who still has the entirety of his soul, black as it may be.” I was pretty sure he flicked a glance at me as he said it.

  “I have bent low and knelt for too long. I played the faithful servant. I have the Book, and I know the secrets of the Prince.”

  I shivered despite the heat that still radiated in the air. I wasn’t sure what book he was talking about, but when crazy ass cultists start talking about the Prince, they are talking about the Devil, and that guy’s a real asshole.

  Raphael seemed to be thinking the same thing as I was, because he took a step back, taking in Alastair again.

  “You?” He asked. “You stole the Book?”

  Alastair nodded.

  “Ummm… Book?” I asked.

  Both of them looked at me, almost like they’d forgotten I was there. Which I prickled at just a little bit.

  “Do not speak.” Raphael barked. “You shall be dealt with in time.”

  Alastair smiled. I didn’t care for it.

  “Hey now,” I said. “Let’s get this straight, you holier than thou prick. You’d be dead right now if it weren't for me. Not only that but if you want through that circle, you’re going to need my help. Cause despite your power, your sinless ass can’t get through it.” I looked at Alastair and gave him the finger. “I can break it with one finger.”

  Nothing seemed to shake Alastair’s freaky calm, even the idea of having his only protection being taken from him.

  Raphael, for his part, refused to even look at me. “The day that I accept help from Unforgiven scum is the day that I betray the Father himself. Your very presence is distasteful and a stain upon my holy vows to protect this world. It was a mistake to spare you. I shall not be making that mistake a second time.”

  I looked at him, my mouth hanging open a little bit. “You gotta be shitting me. That’s all you have to say to me right now? This son of a bitch just ripped your ass out of Heaven to bring you down here and kill you. He let a Vampire drink your blood and gain who knows what kind of power, and you are going to break my balls over a mistake that happened two hundred years ago?”

  Raphael moved around the edge of the circle, still painfully avoiding looking at me. “Another man’s sin does not wash away your own. You betrayed the Father. You betrayed my brother, and you betrayed the oaths you swore. There can be no forgiveness. There can be no mercy. There can only be Justice.”

  Alastair laughed with his madman’s abandon, head back, letting loose. Raphael stalked around the circle, scowling and searching for some weakness.

  Alastair paused to take a breath and then looked at me. “You see the gratitude of Heaven. If not for you, he would be dead. Despite that, yours is the next to meet the headsman’s ax.”

  That stung if I'm being honest.

  A shiver shook my body. My legs gave out just enough for me to dip and struggle to recover. I took a halting step forward and sank to my knees. I’d lost too much blood. It wouldn’t be long before it didn’t matter what Raphael did to me. I’d be dead in the dirt before he ever got a chance.

  Alastair gave me one of his entirely white smiles. He knew the same thing I did. I’d be dead, and then it didn’t matter if Raphael wanted my help or not. My blood would lose its power when I died.

  I looked down, staring into the dirt. I was out of options. It didn’t matter what I did. There was only one way this ended. I was going to die. That was out of my control. The only thing that I could control is how I went out. I could drift off to sleep
as I slowly bled out, or I could get back on my feet and look Raphael in the eye as he struck me down.

  At that moment, that was a hell of a lot better than dying naked in the dirt while Alastair laughed his satanic ass off. No, if I was gonna go out, I wanted to take him with me. I wanted to watch him die.

  I opened my eyes, purpose clear. “You can’t break the circle, but I can. If you won’t accept my help, then maybe you can stand aside. Break the chain holding me here. Let me face my fate like a man, and if I just so happen to walk over there and break the circle before you send me off to Hell, well, shit happens.”

  Both of them were looking at me now. Alastair’s demeanor was starting to show signs of cracking as Raphael cocked his head to the side like a golden retriever and thought about it.

  “I’m not asking you for my life. I’m not asking you for help. I’m asking you to cut a chain and let me take that miserable bastard with me.”

  The Archangel turned back to Al. “You’d have me break your bonds. You’d have me accept your help through inaction.”

  “You’re gonna let your pride stop you from dispensing some of that Justice you’re always going on about? What’s Daddy say about pride again?”

  I never saw him move. He was ten feet away from me, facing the other direction. The next second, I was in the air, hanging with my feet kicking as an Archangel held me by the throat in one hand, the other clutching his sword. He stared at me with his gold within gold eyes. They swirled with fury, like bubbling pools of molten metal. His teeth were clenched so tightly that I could see the muscles in his jaw tense as he ground them down.

  “Do not presume to speak of the Father in such a way.”

  I gagged and gave him a thumbs up.

  I could feel the heat from his gladius. I looked down and saw its swirling flames pointed toward the ground. My oxygen-deprived mind had a thought, and I swung my leg forward, whipping the chain as I did. Three of the links collided with the blade and burst into molten metal. I winced as some of it splattered against my calf, the heat melting skin for a microsecond before it dissipated.

  Raphael broke eye contact to look down, seeing the chain dangling from my leg. He looked back up. I tried to shrug, but I didn’t have a whole lot of room to move my shoulders with the gauntleted fist squeezing what little life I still had out of me.

  He dropped me then, letting go and leaving me to fall a foot to the ground. I collapsed in a heap, too weak to catch myself. Everything hurt. I muttered a string of curses into the dirt. I climbed onto all fours in the dirt, feeling the grit on my knees and hands.

  I looked at Al and saw him looking at the broken chain. I smiled. I tried to stand up, but my legs were being stubborn bastards. They knotted up and gave out, leaving me to scramble in the dirt. “Screw it.”

  I stayed on all fours and began to slowly crawl toward the circle. I only needed to make it to the edge. Which meant I just had to stay alive long enough to reach it and lay a single finger on it. I may have looked like a drunk toddler, but if you ask me, that’s more embarrassing for the other guy.

  “I’m coming for you asshole,” I said. “You just stay right there for me.”

  Raphael walked beside me, not offering help. His sword provided a pool of light and a little heat as I crawled across the ground. My hands were cold as I dragged myself through the dirt. I could feel rocks tearing my skin, but there wasn’t any pain, and as I moved, I couldn’t help but think how tired I was, tired and cold. I just had to make it to the circle’s edge.

  “Your resilience is admirable, Mr. Cain. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.” Alastair said.

  “I’m just that spiteful.”

  I made it to the circle, seeing the silver band of metal gleaming in the firelight. The blackened earth around Alastair stained my hands. It had cooled, but I could feel the heat still radiating up out of the ground. It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life, the warmth seeping into my frigid body. Alastair knelt down, squatting on his haunches to see me.

  “I think you are forgetting, Mr. Cain, that I’m a survivor, and I can be quite spiteful as well.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered.

  I was close enough to the circle. I stopped pulling myself through the dirt and looked up at him. I gave him the finger one last time, reaching out with my middle finger to touch the edge of the circle. My hand trembled with the effort. I barely touched the edge and felt the spell break.

  Energy raced up my arm and coursed through my body as the boundary disintegrated. It felt like an electrical surge. I had a moment of what felt like hyperawareness like my brain had just been jump-started. There was a scream, something no human voice could have made, and a whirlwind of blackness erupted all around me. I flopped on the ground, wrapping my arms around my head. I squinted as dust bit into my face, tiny pebbles striking all over my body like an angry swarm of hornets.

  Through the darkness I could see Raphael, swinging his sword in sweeping arcs, dancing through the wind, like a flickering candle in a dark room.

  A wailing noise filled my head. An awful screeching that I felt more than heard. It vibrated my bones. I clenched my teeth, feeling them grating against each other as the awful noise seeped in through my pores, consuming me. I screamed back. My voice lost in the noise. I screamed until I thought my vocal cords would rip and tear. I roared into the swirling wind until darkness took me.

  30

  I woke up. That felt like a miracle all by itself. Better yet, as I opened my eyes, blinking in the bright lights and not in the bowels of Hell. To top it off, I also didn’t feel any pain, just a comfortably numb euphoria that had to be narcotics. Score one for the home team.

  I moved my head from side to side, seeing the machines and the blue privacy curtain. I had a fancy bed with the rails to keep me from rolling off. As I searched for some sign of a more precise location than a hospital, I saw the remote to the bed, complete with up and down arrows as well as a call button. I reached out for it, my right arm feeling heavier than usual. I’ll attribute that to the drugs.

  As I moved my arm, I noticed something around my wrist. The silver bracelet was cinched and connected to a second one by a few links of small chains. I stared at it dumbly for a second before my brain started working.

  Handcuffs. I was handcuffed to the bed. I tried to move my left arm, finding it was also cuffed to the bed. Someone had brought me to the hospital but then handcuffed me. That wasn’t right. That was something you did to criminals. I had just saved the world, for the second time in a year no less. I deserved a parade, not handcuffs.

  Wriggling, I tried to look for something I could use, something to pick the cuffs or use the break the damn things. The heart rate monitor started beeping rapidly as I pushed myself up to a sitting position. I felt pressure on my back. Distantly, I knew it was a pain, but the drugs were deadening it. I pulled on the cuffs, hoping that maybe I’d discover some hidden strength that would allow me to break them and make an escape.

  “Deckland?”

  Carl was standing five feet away, one hand on the privacy curtain, the other holding a steaming cup that I assumed was coffee.

  “‘arl!” I croaked.

  I shook my head, trying to swallow enough spit to wet my throat. My brain was swimming as I tried to clear my head. If I hadn’t been so upset, I would have enjoyed the feeling.

  Carl moved quickly. “Hold on.”

  He crossed over to the side of the bed and picked up a plastic cup with a pink bendy straw in it. He set the coffee down and used both hands to bring the cup up and guide the straw to my lips. I drank. I pulled the water into my mouth in greedy gulps, feeling it wash down my throat. I drank until the straw gurgled.

  I came up for air. “Thanks.”

  Carl set the empty cup down. He looked at me with his concerned mother hen face.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “Though we gotta stop meeting like this.”

  He laughed, no doubt remembering me waking up in
a seedy motel room about a year ago. Carl had been the first face I’d seen after tangling with Moloch. I’d thought I was going to end up with a one-way ticket to Hell that time too. Instead, I’d ended up with a roommate.

  Now, I was back in bed again, barely surviving some horrible Demonic episode and Carl was there to get me some water. A selfish asshole couldn’t ask for a better friend. Carl was getting the short end of the stick.

  “Where am I?” I asked, remembering the handcuffs. “And why am I cuffed to the bed?”

  Carl looked at the cuffs. “Yea. About that.”

  The privacy curtain ripped back. Mr. White stood there, holding a tiny white mug. The guy didn’t go anywhere without a cup of coffee.

  “Mr. Cain. You’re awake.” He said.

  “And alive. No thanks to you assholes.”

  White moved in closer. “Now now, I hardly think that’s a fair assessment. My team found you in the desert and brought you back here via helicopter. My physicians put you back together. One of my team donated the blood that’s running through your veins. If it weren't for me and my assholes, you’d be dead.”

  “Yea, well the only reason I needed the help in the first place is that Cat was a damned double agent or triple agent. I dunno. Hell, she was narcing on you to Al, and I ended up with a knife in the back and almost freezing to death in the desert.”

  Carl put a hand on my shoulder. Mr. White stepped closer, setting his coffee down. “Agent Petran was there?”

  “Yea. Smiling her ass off like a psycho bitch while Alastair slit a bunch of throats and summoned an Archangel.” I said.

  Carl sucked in air. “Archangel?”

  White jumped in. “Mr. Cain, please. There is a matter of clearance to think about here.” He looked at Carl. “Mr. Rodriguez, would you mind waiting up in my office?”