by Doug Burbey
"Your point?"
"My agency might have a solution to your problem. New drug. Helps counteract the side effects." He reached into his breast pocket and Declan's hand tightened on the pistol grip, everything in him ready to pull and fire as he'd practiced so many times. "Just getting out a business card. See?" He drew a dark card and laid it on the edge of the truck bed. "Go see the lady there. She might have something for you to try, something to push the rage all the way down."
"Yeah? And what's that going to cost me? My soul?"
"Please, this isn't a deal with the devil. We both know he doesn't exist. I have no need for souls, nor does my agency. Think of this more along the lines of barter. But I'm sure the supervisor you speak with will give you all the details." The man smiled a cold smile that jabbed at Declan. "But if you don't want a way to control the rage, feel free to ignore our generous offer. Not my problem if you lose it and kill some kid cause he looked at you wrong." The man smirked and shrugged. "I was told to make you the offer, my job is done. Have fun with the rest of your life, demon hunter has been." With a jaunty flick of his hands, he turned and got into a non-descript sedan. He started it up, leaving Declan standing there the need for violence eating at the corners of his brain.
Asshole, he completely blew away what little fog I had. Need to stop and get more booze before I get home, this will be easier to deal with drunk. Deal with the rage, the booze helps. It has to be a coincidence. There are lots of alphabet agencies. It has to be.
Moving forward he glanced at the card, hand hovering over it as he fought with the options. Then he grabbed it, shoving it in his jacket pocket.
I'll look at it later, now the store, then home. I need to get the rage down before I lose my cool and become what they want me to be.
He spent the whole drive home hoping a demon might cross his path and hating himself for that very thought. The image of the demon hunter in California never strayed far from his mental nightmare.
Chapter 15 - Offer you can't refuse
Declan sat in his truck looking at the business card in his hand and the building across the street. The addresses matched so it had to be the right place.
This has to be a hoax. I mean who the fuck even has business cards anymore.
He fingered the heavy cardboard, all black with white letters with an address, a number and nothing else.
I mean am I supposed to be impressed that they have a business card that cost damn near a dollar each?
That thought caught his mind and he looked at the card again, weighing it. It was a damn heavy card. With a suspicion, he tilted it and let the light reflect off of it.
Ha, thought so.
Indented just slightly into the card were runes, traceries of spells, and now that he paid attention, he could feel the slightest prickling across his fingers. But they were so faint he knew they hadn't activated them.
Yet.
Tracking spell, maybe a compulsions spell, and most likely the real purpose of the card. Wonder if their minions know these spells are on them.
He gave the building a second look - a standard office building, concrete gray with no personality, only windows reflecting the outside. Since he didn't have creepy crawlies running over his body, the odds were not too much magic was currently in use.
Fuck this.
Declan started the car up and felt the wave of rage rise like a geyser in him, tinting his world red, his body shook as he fought through it.
"My agency might have a solution to your problem. New drug. Helps counteract the side effects." The words of the interloper rang through his mind and he switched the engine off, sweat beading and trickling down his scalp.
I don't know what I have to lose, but right now I'm about to lose everything.
Reluctance made his feet drag as he stepped out of his truck, locked it, and after glancing both ways, crossed the street. Only the oncoming traffic made him pick up his pace, though as soon as he got to the sidewalk it slowed again. Sensing carefully, he didn't find anything but then again, that wasn't a skill he used much.
If this keeps up, I might regret that choice.
The bitter thought drew his lips back from his teeth. The snarl still on his face he pulled open the door and walked in. The faint smell of antiseptic hit his nose and he frowned. With a shake of his head he headed up the stairs. The card said suite 301 and being in an elevator made you an easy target. This wasn't enough stairs to make putting himself at risk worth the effort. Besides, it gave him more time to scope things out.
Climbing the two flights all he saw was a cigarette butt and sticky stuff he didn't want to think about on the landing. He walked in and looked around and for some reason was vaguely surprised at the bland office décor. A single door sat in the middle of the hall. The rest of the walls were a dull beige that implied nothing so much as boredom.
The temptation to walk back out ate at him but the rage that bubbled too close to the surface sent him walking down the hall, noting the door sat exactly in the middle.
Odd.
On the door, the logo etched in frosted script on the glass, International Cooperative Element Responders.
He read it twice and rolled his eyes. With his face in a blank mask, he pushed open the door and walked in. An empty waiting area, with an unmanned reception window, lay in front of him. As he walked up to the window a woman came striding out from the back.
"Yes, may I help you?"
He took a minute to look over the woman, she looked to be in her late thirties, but his ability to guess age on females had gotten him in trouble more than once. Rich brown hair lay around her face in a cut that highlighted her sharp features. Her brown eyes reminded him of an Amberbock beer, the rich color that promised oblivion. Then there were her curves. Her tailored dark grey suit did not hide any of them and in any other situation he might have been tempted to see if he could buy her a drink. In this current situation, he wondered how many honey traps she had run.
DK lifted the card and flashed it at her.
"I was told I might find a solution to an issue I have?" He didn't clarify anything. If she didn't know, then she didn't need to know.
"Ah, Declan Kenner, also known as DK. Yes, I was informed you might be coming by. Please come on back." Her voice brisk and matter of fact made him feel like a young second lieutenant being instructed by a Master Sergeant - never criticizing but making it very clear he didn't know a damn thing.
She walked to the side, opened the door and stood there waiting for him, her posture that of a patient DI.
Wonder when she is going to explode and start cussing at me?
He walked through the door. With a brisk stride she turned and walked down the rows of cubicles. The walls were too high for him to see anything, though the silence was telling him something. He kept getting distracted by the snap of her skirt and the ass that filled it out.
I wonder if she'd like to check out all my scars? Or maybe see what duty stations we had in common?
Thinking thoughts about the woman seemed safer than dwelling on why he came here. Besides, she exuded a level of competence and poise he had seen in female master sergeants. Fraternizing had been strongly frowned on but he still found that sheer ‘I can fucking handle anything' attitude sexy as hell.
With a military perfect turn, she went into an office and settled behind a desk.
"Please take a seat Mr. Kenner." her voice cool and calm as she waved at a chair.
Am I in the spider’s lair? And why aren't I more worried? Damn hormones. I need to get laid more often.
He sat after casting a sharp look around the place. It looked like any other office, some pieces of paper in frames on the walls, a computer, and a phone, a clear desk, and two chairs. Bland, boring, and not at all fitting the outfit she had on. Her suit had been crafted to fit her body, and he'd lay money the undergarments she wore cost more than his boots.
Red. I bet they are red.
The visual flashed through his head and his ar
m almost slipped off the armrest as he lowered himself into the chair and she smirked. He swallowed with the sudden conviction she knew exactly where his mind had gone.
Get your fucking head in the game, Declan. You don't know what they want.
The mental slap helped and he settled down, his eyes on her.
"My name is Cordelia Bennett. My job is to assess if you will be any use to our agency and if you have any qualities that make the price of keeping you worth it."
DK arched his brow. "And what makes you think you are capable of assessing my qualities."
"Experience." She reached down and opened a drawer, smirking at him as he tensed. She pulled out a manila folder and opened it. He saw his own military personnel file picture staring at him, upside down. "Declan Kenner nominally called DK for Demon Killer. Retired veteran with over twenty years in. Pardoned from all actions during the Demon War. Lives outside Jennings, Maryland. Owes nothing, visits the VFW, and has no known social groups outside of a few other war vets such as Andrew Cabello and Greg Donahue. Once best friends with Shane Gris, currently AWOL with whereabouts unknown but believed to be operating outside of the country. You were one of the 3% that walked out of the incident at Ypsilanti alive and were accused of war crimes relating to battlefield actions in Bowling Green Ohio. Granted a TS/SCI clearance, which has not been revoked. Also marked as immune to recall to active duty. Interesting." She slapped the file closed and put both elbows on the table, rested her chin on her hands and looked at him. "So why are you here?"
DK felt his blood run colder with each comment.
She knows too fucking much. How the hell does she know this stuff? Those records were supposed to be fucking sealed. And fuck, is Shane really somehow alive?
He fought to swallow, even as he made sure his face didn't move so much as a fraction and he still got the sense she knew how freaked out he was.
"I seem to be having some anger management issues and one of your people mentioned that I might be able to get some assistance here."
"That is quite correct. But there is no such thing as a free lunch. I assume you are willing to pay for Reset."
He almost sagged in relief but the idea of showing weakness to this sexy piranha in human skin did not seem wise.
"Reset? Is that what is it called? Drugs, sure. How much." Even as he spoke he reached for his wallet. Money he could come up with.
"Oh, Declan. Surely you didn't think it cost something as simple as money. Oh no. I want you to do things for me." Her sweet smile and glimpse of cleavage as she leaned forward made him hope for a brief instant that maybe sex was how he could pay for it. "I need you to kill demons for me. In return, I'll give you Reset."
I knew this was too good to be true.
He started to rise but she reached into a drawer and set down on the desk a single air compressed vial. It was the standard med version, you pressed it against your skin, pressed the button and it pushed the drug into your system via compressed air.
"This is Reset. Guaranteed to keep your rage at bay. And all you need to do is the occasional job for me."
He couldn't take his eyes away from the vial. The answer to at least some of his problems lay right there.
"And what do I have to do to earn those vials?"
She shrugged, her cleavage heaving impressively he noticed from the corner of his eye. "Nothing much. Kill some demons, help us keep rogue mages under control. Basically, keep America free. You'll get a bounty for every demon you kill; extra money is always nice. And as long as you don't refuse a job or die, you'll have all the Reset you need."
It sounded so simple, and he didn't believe it. "Can I have some time to think about it?"
"Sure. Here, this one is on me. Try it out and give me a call if you decide you want to work for us." She slid the vial and a card across the desk. "I'm sure I'll be hearing from you."
He couldn't resist, he picked up both, noting the card had her name embossed on it. Cordelia Bennett.
"Sure thing, Cordy. I'll let you know."
She arched a brow and the displeased look made him smile. "It is Cordelia. And you'll call me. They all do."
With that ominous statement ringing in his ears, she ushered him out, and he headed home. He didn't glance at the vial as he drove. Instead, he waited until he locked and sealed the door to his house behind him before he gave in and pulled the vial out of his pocket. Declan twisted it in the air, looking at the light bouncing off the neon pink and gold liquid.
What the fuck, if I'm dead I won't care anymore.
He pressed the vial against his arm and hit the button. Coldness pressed again his arm and the rage disappeared as if snuffed out. He slumped back against the wall, at peace for the first time in longer than he had realized.
Oh, I am so fucked.
Chapter 16 - New Toy
Shane looked at the bodies lying around while the girl talked. He didn't have any way to store any more blood and the bodies needed to be disposed of. Keeping one part of his mind on the story the girl spun, really, she babbled so quietly about things that didn't make sense, he lost the thread of the conversation. Instead, he prepped a spell to help dispose of the corpses. As he prepped he took more blood. He'd fill himself to bursting, which was possible though improbable, as he didn't want to leave here drained.
The fading note in the girl's voice caught his attention and he realized he'd not tracked her words.
Damn, I'm going to have to get her to calm down and repeat everything.
"Shush," his voice a whisper but still she froze mid-babble, looking at him. Her face was so pale her freckles stood out like vivid dots of orange.
"You can't be real. You were supposed to be a dream."
Huh? What the hell. I'll deal with her later.
"Move over there, I need to get rid of this evidence since I assume you have no desire to face a firing squad?"
Her eyes drifted to her dead cousin, but her head nodded almost dreamily, as if she wasn't actually here. The consequences of summoning demons were draconian, to say the least. If you were found guilty you were taken out and shot. No one could afford to have people that could use magic sitting around, stewing. If you could use it, you had a personal reserve that meant eventually you'd have the power you needed. And that meant eventually you'd break out. The courts didn't like that option. Mages got very quick trials and there were no appeals.
Shane verified that she stood out of the way and dipped his hand in one more time, then pulled on the power that vibrated in him like a horde of angry bees. A wave of energy rippled out from his hand and settled over the bodies, and they began to decay and rot, like a time lapse, but in minutes they were nothing but dust piles that started to blow away in the light breeze.
He staggered a bit but it passed quickly, the overload taking care of the energy needed for that spell. Shaking his head to try to get his brain working again, he turned to see the girl looking like a pillar of salt as she stared at the remains of her friends, her family, and the demon.
"Come on. I'm not done with you. But we shouldn't stay here anymore."
She bowed her head and fell in step behind him. Shane gritted his teeth at the surge of pleasure at her subservience. That had never been anything that attracted him. He had no desire for sheep, he needed a wolf.
"Get rid of the robe. It's stupid and garners attention. Don't you have any belongings?"
"Oh," intelligence lit up her face and she stripped out of the encompassing robe and darted to the right, grabbing a backpack and stuffing the robe in it. Without the dark colors surrounding her, she looked like spring come to life, bright and wholesome. He wondered why she'd want to contaminate that with blood.
"Do you have a name?"
Not that I know if I care or not but hey you gets old after a while.
"Jane Smith."
"Fine Jean, you're coming with me. You going to argue?"
"Um, no," her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's Jane."
"Sure. Come on." He hea
ded out across the park wanting to get away from the evidence as quickly as possible. He might have people who owed him but there was no reason to push his luck.
She trotted next to him, exuding light and sweetness. He really wanted to ask why she wanted to sully that but her choices weren't his problem.
And I don't give a fuck. Remember, she's dead. She just doesn't know it yet.
He glanced at her sideways.
Well, maybe not. If I can use her, no reason I can't take her with me. Depends on her power levels and what she can do.
"Okay, Janine, start at the beginning. You can open portals?"
"Yeah. I can open and hold them."
"And they didn't want you because you were a girl?" That struck him as the height of stupidity. Who cared what was or was not between your legs?
"Yeah. My cousin said I should be seen and not heard."
"Moron. How long?" This mattered. Some mages could only hold it for minutes, others… well others could do impressive things. Janice had been able to hold it for over an hour before she got stressed.
She shrugged, not looking at him. "Two hours is the longest. But it got closed on the other side."
Shane stumbled a bit but covered. "Why so long?"
Fuck me, two hours and she implied she could have done it longer?
"Oh. Frax wanted to see this TV show I had mentioned. So, I set it up so he could watch my favorite show."
"A demon wanted to watch TV?" His voice contained every ounce of disbelief that existed in his body.
"Well, I was talking about my favorite series, cause the vampires are so well done, while we waited for his boss. I set up my tablet so he could see it."
Fuck me, do these children think they can become our friends?
"How often do you talk to Frax? What ring is Frax?"
"Ring one, he's a lesser. But…" she trailed off biting her lip.
Shane realized they were at his bike. Grabbing it, he started walking. He needed to hear what else she had to say.
