Devil's Due (Luther Cross Book 1)

by Percival Constantine

  Kayla grabbed my right shoulder, her nails boring through my clothing until I felt them pierce my flesh. I cringed, and her grip made it harder to reach for the gun under my left arm.

  “You’re not going anywhere, Cross!”

  I turned, my eyes humming with power, and held up my left hand, palm open and directed at her. “Reverbero!”

  A force like an invisible linebacker blew Kayla back, sending her rolling on the asphalt. She groaned and came to a stop on her chest. She was probably more stunned than harmed, and I’d have to deal with her again soon.

  Before I could draw my gun and take them out, my body was slammed against my car, the door’s window breaking under the force. Steel-like fingers wrapped around my throat, and I found myself staring into Alex’s yellow eyes, which burned with vengeful rage at how I’d treated his sister.

  “Y’know…” I struggled to speak, but still tried to get it out. “You could…really use…a mint…”

  My knee made contact with his genitals. Human or otherwise, no guy liked that being done to him. And sure, maybe it’s a bit of a cheap shot, but I never claimed I fight fair.

  Alex’s grip on my throat weakened enough for me to shove him into the car parked beside mine. My fist connected with his face, and it started to bloody after a few punches. I risked a quick glance to the side and saw Kayla was on her feet and ready to get into the fight again.

  Grabbing Alex by the shoulders, I turned and put him between Kayla and myself. A powerful kick threw him into his sister and the two sprawled on the roof.

  I reached beneath my coat, now finally drawing the revolver. The Enochian markings burned along the barrel, aching to be used. I stepped closer to them. Alex was the first in my sight and I raised my arm. Then, I pulled the trigger.

  Blam!

  One shot, right between the eyes. Alex’s mouth was fixed in a silent scream, his eye sockets empty and smoldering.

  “You bastard!” Kayla was on her feet again and she pounced, her nails—or, rather, claws—bared to strike.

  I aimed and fired.

  She fell on the ground. After a moment of lying still, she moved with a groan. I stood over her, looking down at the smoldering bullet-hole in her gut. Then, I stepped on the wound, putting just the smallest amount of pressure on it.

  Kayla screamed.

  “That looks painful,” I said.

  “Son of a whore!”

  I felt my lips curl into a snarl and I knelt beside Kayla, pressing the barrel of the gun beneath her chin. She stared back with defiant eyes.

  “Don’t talk about my mother,” I said.

  She spat. It landed on my forehead and I took the handkerchief from my breast pocket to wipe the saliva off. Kayla laughed.

  “Slim was just a punk-ass feeder. No reason you should care about him,” I told her. “So how about you come clean with the real reason you came here?”

  “You think I’m gonna tell you anything, Cross? You might as well pull that trigger, then, because my lips are sealed.”

  My finger rubbed the trigger. Would feel really nice to put a bullet in this bitch’s head. But she and Alex had a reason for coming after me tonight. And they’d approached me here, after I came out of Eden. Which meant either they were following me, or waiting for me.

  Either way, they had a reason. And I wanted to know if that reason had anything to do with the Minister and his little cambion factory. Kayla wouldn’t talk willingly, though. I’d have to explore some options for getting her to sing.

  I slammed the gun against her head and her eyes closed.

  11

  Kayla screamed when I threw water on her face. Probably because it was holy water. Her skin smoked in response. That sure was one way to wake her up.

  I’d taken Kayla to one of my many storage units, this one in the West Loop area. She was handcuffed to a chair and on the ground beneath her was a sigil—a series of interlocking geometric shapes in a circle, with a scorpion in the center. One of the pentacles from The Key of Solomon, useful for keeping pissant demons like Kayla here in their place.

  My trench coat and jacket were draped over a crate in the corner of the unit and my sleeves were rolled up. I set down the bucket of water and folded my arms across my chest, staring at her. The yellow of her eyes dulled somewhat considering the trap and the holy water.

  “Glad you’re finally awake,” I said.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’ve got questions, you’ve got answers.”

  “You think I’ll tell you anything, half-breed?” she asked with a sneer. “You’re out of your mind!”

  I sighed and rubbed my head. “Here’s what I know, Kayla.” As I spoke, I circled around her, remaining outside the sigil. “You’re a demon—and not much of one. That’s why you didn’t confront me inside Eden—you and your brother waited until I came out. Which tells me you don’t have the clout to get into an embassy.”

  “Maybe I just hate the stench of angels.”

  “That’s a possibility. Wouldn’t blame you, actually. They can be a pain in the ass.” Stepping into the circle, I moved behind her and knelt. My mouth was inches from her neck, my breath no doubt hot on her flesh. “But I’ve faced some powerful demons. Your brother went down like a bitch and now I’ve got you chained up in my basement.”

  She struggled angrily against the bonds. I chuckled and stood, moving around so we could stand face-to-face.

  “I know you’re not a fallen angel, Kayla. Even among fallen humans, you’re nothing special. It’s why this trap has you pretty much stuck. And it’s why I was able to take you out so quickly, even when you had the drop on me.” I scoffed. “You don’t even have the power to physically manifest on this plane, do you? That’s why you’re possessing this girl’s body.”

  “Don’t you like it?” She looked down at her body and thrust her chest out. “I’m sure if you undo these cuffs, we could have some fun with her.”

  I rolled my eyes and picked up the bucket, ready to throw more holy water on her. Her expression went from seductive to fearful in the snap of a finger.

  “This that ice bucket challenge I’ve heard so much about?” she asked.

  “Nah, that fad’s long over.”

  I threw the last of the water at her, dousing her entire body. Her wet hair was plastered against her skin and there was so much smoke coming from her body, it quickly obscured view of the entire room. Kayla’s screams continued for what felt like an eternity.

  None of it bothered me. Remaining frosty as ever, I lit a cigarette and contributed my own smoke to the cloud that was now quickly dissipating. With a wave of my hand, I cleared a path through it between Kayla and myself, our eyes meeting through the wisps.

  “You shot your load for nothing,” she said.

  “Not even close. I got plenty more tricks in here, including more holy water.” I moved closer and rested my foot on the chair between her legs. With one arm draped on my bent knee, I leaned down, staring at her as I blew smoke right into her face. “You’re gonna tell me what I want to know, Kayla. Or else this is going to be a very long, very painful night for you.”

  She chuckled. “Torture, eh? Bitch, I’m from Hell. Torture’s how I get off.”

  “You think because you’ve had hooks in your nipples that you know what this is really like?” I asked. “You’ve never been tortured with holy water or mystic artifacts. This is the stuff that chips away at your diseased soul, not your flesh. And trust me, there’s a big difference.”

  I rose and turned, stepping outside the circle again. The cigarette smoke filled my lungs and while exhaling, I reached my hand for the sheath on my belt. The dagger I drew from it had a stainless silver surface, the same Enochian sigils on the revolver carved into it. Iron foundation, silver-plated, blessed with holy water. The cuts I inflicted on her would hurt more than anything she’d ever felt.

  My head turned and our eyes connected. I watched as hers drifted lower, moving away from my face. Then
I saw her mouth open in a silent gasp. She knew what was coming just as well as I did.

  “You wanna play games with me, demon? I’m willing to play.” I swaggered closer, pointing the tip of the blade at her. “This is where we start having some fun. Where I carve you up like a Thanksgiving turkey before casting your ass back into the pit.”

  “You…you mean send me back?”

  Her voice had more of an urgent tone in it, and I felt a smile come to my lips. That’s what I was looking for. Some demons like Hell, but for the most, it’s…well, hell. They’d do anything to get out of there. Especially the lower-level ones like Kayla here. She’d probably spent most of her afterlife clawing her way through the circles, trying to cross over to the Earthly plane.

  Getting out of Hell was like getting out of North Korea. It could be done, but it was a treacherous path, and if you got caught, you’d be in the shit. Sometimes, you could get a furlough if you were working for one of the archdemons. My guess is that’s how Kayla had gotten out. And if she was sent back as a failure, her master probably wouldn’t be too pleased. Her tough talk was intended to goad me into torturing her to death.

  For some demons, no longer existing was preferable to returning to Hell.

  “So, let’s talk,” I said. “I want to know everything you know.”

  “There’s something big going on,” she said.

  “And you know something about it,” I replied before putting the cigarette between my lips.

  “What? No!”

  I scoffed. “Don’t play games with me, Kayla. I know your bosses are up to something.”

  “I swear, it’s not us!” she said.

  Interesting. If Kayla didn’t know what was going on, then why did she and Alex come after me? I moved over to the wall and leaned against it, cigarette in one hand, twirling the dagger in the other.

  “So why am I so special?”

  “We’ve got seers,” she said. “They’ve predicted that a cambion will be involved in something big, a turning point in the war.”

  The Eternal War between Heaven and Hell. There was an armistice between both sides, but no peace treaty. And both still tried to work their influence to gain more power to their side through amassing human souls.

  “So all you know is a cambion’s got something to do with this turning point. How’s that automatically equal me?”

  “Oh, come on, Cross. There aren’t many cambions around these days. The God Squad certainly saw to that. And of the ones that do exist, well…you’re more involved than anyone. You’ve got connections to all sorts of different factions, your entire life revolves around the supernatural, and you’re the only cambion any of us knows who’s granted access to an embassy.”

  I supposed she had a point. If there was gonna be a cambion involved in some sort of prophecy, only stood to reason I was the most-likely candidate. Especially how Cassie saw that I was supposed to help Dakota.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” I sheathed the dagger. Wouldn’t need it anymore; I’d proved my point with her. And now Kayla was singing like a bird. “So why come right out into the open and confront me like you did? Why not just wait and watch?”

  “We thought about that.”

  “And?”

  “Honestly? It sounded boring. Also, Slim and I went way back, so I wanted to carve out my pound of flesh before you told us what you were up to.”

  I couldn’t help it, but a great big laugh bubbled up inside me and I let it out. It took me a few moments to calm myself down and once I was able to, Kayla responded by glaring daggers at me.

  “Sorry, but you gotta admit, it’s kind of funny,” I said. “You wanted to torture me for information and now the tables have completely turned. What’s that they say about pride and falls?”

  “You’re one to talk. You’re probably the most prideful sonnuva bitch that ever set foot on this planet.”

  “Touché.” I finished the cigarette and dropped it on the concrete floor, crushing it beneath my heel. “But now for the million-dollar question: who are you working for?”

  Kayla furiously shook her head. “No way. I can’t tell you that.”

  “You know you can’t escape. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just send you back to Hell.”

  Her eyes were wide in complete terror. She wasn’t willing to tell me who sent her up. Who she was working for. But I had a pretty good idea of who she was talking about, and given his proclivities, it certainly made sense for him to cook up the idea of a harem providing him with little half-demon babies.

  “Please, Luther, don’t make me tell you. Just let me go.”

  I circled around behind her. With one hand, I grabbed her forehead. The other drew the dagger and brought it to her throat. Gently, I set the blade’s edge against her skin.

  “You have two choices, Kayla. You confirm what I already know and I kill you. Or you keep your secret and I exorcise you and send you back to the pit. The choice is yours. Will you help me or not?”

  There was a tremor in her voice and she spoke so quietly it was almost impossible to hear. But her one-word answer was there: “Yes.”

  “Asmodeus.”

  I felt her nod. Then I lived up to my part of the agreement.

  12

  After finishing off Kayla, I cleaned up what was left. While it was true that killing a demon like that also meant killing the host, there wasn’t much that could be done about it. There’s a high mortality rate when it comes to exorcisms, and the ones that do survive usually end up completely shattered. Most commit suicide within the year following the exorcism.

  Was it pretty? Hell no. Did I feel like a bastard about it? You’d better believe it. But no one said this job was easy. Sunday school teachers will tell you that the war between Heaven and Hell is all about good versus evil. But it’s actually more like a fight between two wolves over a sheep.

  Neither side had humanity’s best interests at heart. To them, we were just tools for the war. And the funny thing is, they don’t even really know why they’re fighting. Nor do they know what they’d do with this planet if one side or the other won.

  Dogs chasing cars.

  True, I did find myself allying with Heaven more often than not. Sanctimonious bastards though they were, they generally let humanity operate on their own. The demons were more of a direct threat to the people down here. But the angels made me twitchy, too.

  I pulled the Camaro into the garage and climbed out. A different valet was on duty right now and we only exchanged some quick greetings before he parked my car and then I took the elevator up to my condo.

  The place was darkened. I shed my trench coat and hung it in the front closet. A flickering of light came from the living room, which meant Dakota must be watching TV. Before I made myself known in there, I lifted the enchantment on the office door and unlocked it. Put away the gun and dagger, then left and mystically locked the door again. Still didn’t trust her not to snoop around when I was out.

  I walked into the living room and looked at the seventy-inch television screen showing a close-up of Zoe Saldana against the Paris backdrop. “You gotta be kidding me,” I said. “You’re watching Rosemary’s Baby?”

  I glanced over at the large, black leather couch. Dakota lay across it, a blanket wrapped around her body and her head resting on one of the throw pillows. Her eyes didn’t move from the screen.

  “I know, but it felt appropriate,” she said. “Besides, I’ve only seen the original and was curious about the remake.”

  “Love me some Zoe, but she’s no Mia Farrow. And no one can compare to Ruth Gordon.”

  I walked past the living room to the liquor cabinet and poured myself a glass of Laphroaig. When I returned, I sat in a large, black leather recliner and looked at the screen. The scotch just wasn’t the same as the forty-year. Damn you, Raziel. Now I’ll never be able to appreciate this stuff as much.

  “You were gone a long time,” she said.

  “Sorry about that.”

 
Dakota shrugged. “It’s okay. I took a nap for a while, then woke up not too long ago and saw this was on Netflix.”

  “What do you think so far?”

  “Not too bad. I mean, it doesn’t really compare to the original, you’re right about that. But it’s entertaining.”

  “It could’ve been worse,” I said. “Did you see Look What’s Happened to Rosemary’s Baby?”

  Dakota scrunched her brow and finally tore her eyes away from the TV. “What’s that?”

  “Made-for-TV movie back in the seventies; it was a sequel to the original.”

  “Any good?”

  I scoffed. “Nope. Not even Ruth Gordon could save that.”

  “So, where’d you go?”

  I set my drink in the chair’s coaster and reached for an ashtray on the coffee table, resting it on the chair’s wide arm before lighting a cigarette. “Went to see Cassie first, make sure you weren’t pulling my leg.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “Bunch of cryptic bullshit, which is typical,” I said. “But the important thing is your story checks out so far, and Cassie may have given me another lead, someone we should visit tomorrow.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “A witch. Pretty powerful one, too. She might be able to give us some guidance on what to do next. Possibly even tell us the name of the demon who impregnated you.”

  Dakota hit the pause button on the remote and stood from the couch. She walked over to the window and stared out through the glass. I watched as she stood there silently, just looking over the city’s lighted skyline.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “This can’t be real…” She rested her head against the glass, her next words barely above a whisper. “I was chosen.”

  I sighed and set my glass down, rising to approach her. When I came close, I reached a hand for her shoulder, hesitated, and then gently set it down. “It’s hard, I know.”

  “What do you know?” She spun around, glaring at me. “You have no idea what this is like! Everything he told us…how we were destined for great things…and then to find out he was just…just…”