Niki Slobodian 04 - The Devil Was an Angel

by J. L. Murray

  “He found us,” she said emptily. “After all we went through to hide, he found us.”

  “Kane,” I said. She nodded slowly. “You're all Outsiders?” I said.

  “We were,” she said. “Why is he doing this?”

  “Someone paid him to,” I said.

  “Who would do such a thing?” she said. “We've never done anything to anyone.”

  I didn't have an answer for her. She had lost her life, all her friends, everything. I was supposed to be able to offer her comfort. But I had none to give.

  “I'm sorry,” I said. “You shouldn't have had to die like this.” I touched her outstretched palm and watched her fade.

  Only a few were cognizant enough to notice me. The rest just looked. Looked out at their mutilated corpses. It was heartbreaking. One by one I touched them all, sending them over. They would sleep, and in time maybe some of them would find peace. I doubted it, though.

  Finally, I was finished. I stepped out onto the sunny porch and sat on the step. My stomach was churning and I tried to breathe as much cool morning air into my lungs as I could.

  I didn't hear them, but I could feel them. Two impressions in the world that hadn't been there before; as if they had just morphed out of the ground. I shot up, jumping out of the way just as the biggest boot I had ever seen crashed down right where my head had been. And when I looked up, I was looking at the ugliest demon I had ever seen.

  His eyes were narrowed into dark slits. His horns, probably once magnificent, were cracked and sickly-looking. He bandied after me on stumpy legs, his skin rough and rubbery like a rhinoceros. His short, thick arms were as big around as his legs and resembled tree trunks. He smiled, displaying yellowish brown teeth, sharp and crowded together in his mouth. Smoothly, I reached behind my back with one hand and pulled the handgun out that had been at my back. I aimed right between the eyes, flicking the safety off. The beast froze. Slowly I reached my left hand into my jacket pocket and pulled a handful of salt from Bobby's hospital room into my fist. Demons hated salt.

  “Enough, Boshta,” said a voice. The ugly demon stopped, but didn't take his eyes off me. He growled from deep in his throat. I turned my head to see the owner of the voice. A slight man with pale skin limped toward us, his weight supported by a silver walking stick. He was wearing a fedora, pushed low over his eyes. I felt the bile rise in my throat as he smiled at me genially. He ran an oddly loving hand over the ugly demon's back. I couldn't help but make a face.

  “Kane,” I said, the taste of his name bitter in my mouth.

  “Miss Slobodian,” he said. “At last we meet.” He took off his hat with a flourish and bowed. Ridges of bone peeked through ginger-colored hair and, as he stood back up, I saw his eyes. One was bright blue and the other was white; not pale, but completely white, as though it didn't even have an iris.

  “You're an Outsider,” I said.

  His polite smile disappeared and he scowled as he returned his hat to his head. “When I was born, there was no such thing,” he said. “My father was human, if you must know. And my mother's family was very old and very powerful.”

  “If they're so powerful, why are you running around the globe for the highest bidder?” I said.

  He sniffed. “They're also very dead, and they have been for some time now.” He plastered the genial smile back on his face. For a split second I was reminded of Sam, the way he smiled in every situation. “A boy has to make a living somehow.”

  I straightened my arm, which still aimed a gun at Boshta's sizable skull. “Who hired you, Kane?”

  He chuckled. “Please, Miss Slobodian. The demon means nothing to me. You cannot threaten me.” But there was a nervous flicker in his good eye.

  Boshta made a lunge for my wrist. He was exceptionally quick, given his size. But I was faster. I pulled my hand out of my coat pocket and threw the handful of salt into his face. The skin seemed to dissolve, being replaced by a red foamy substance that bubbled out between his fingers. But still he was moving toward me, grabbing at my gun hand. I reached easily over with my left hand, the hot shooting pain flashing through my hand and up my arm. I gave a twist on his elephantine arm and felt it give a great snap. But I couldn't let go.

  Visions winked brightly through my head, each lasting less than a fraction of a second. A demon child in Erebos, being beaten with the flat end of a blade, the child screaming in pain. A woman with demon features, but the hands of a human, cooing to the same child, older now. An adult demon, not much changed from the way Boshta looked now, speaking with Kane. Standing over a ditch with Kane, the crevice filled with dead bodies, crushed beyond recognition. Kane smiling. Kane in a rage. Kane kissing him. And then, as they had been doing lately, the images changed. It was the near-future. Boshta stood at the top of a cliff, looking out at two figures, rising in a shimmering bubble from the bottom. And Boshta, burned black and to the bone, on top of the same cliff, my own face looming terrifyingly over him. And again the dark nudge. The urge to go even deeper. What was it? It scared me, but I squeezed the screaming demon's arm and my fingers fell through the skin, through the bone, and I touched something soft and ethereal, like cool silk. It coiled around my fingers and I had the strange feeling of sickness; the spindly threads somehow feeling black and decayed. I looked down to find my hand inside Boshta's arm as if I were a ghost. With a gasp, I pulled my hand away. Boshta fell to the ground, weeping. His murderous boots, caked in dried blood and gore, kicking at the ground in his pain.

  “Well,” said Kane. “That was interesting.” He limped over to Boshta and whispered in his ear. I heard him make crooning noises as he stroked Boshta's ugly face. The whimpering stopped. Soon the demon's body rose and fell slowly. He was asleep. Kane rose with difficulty.

  I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I straightened and looked down at the demon, seconds ago so sure he could overtake me, now crumpled in a heap, arm broken and snoring.

  “Don't ever touch my gun,” I said.

  “You didn't have to do that,” he said.

  “He was trying to kill me.”

  Kane looked at the pitiful creature on the ground. “He doesn't know any better, the poor thing.”

  “What is it with you two?” I said. “You're a couple or something?”

  “We have an understanding,” said Kane. “He gives me comfort.”

  “Weird.”

  “We have business, you and I,” Kane said, his voice cold.

  “No we don't,” I said. “You're a monster.”

  “I'm an opportunist.”

  “You deserve to die,” I said.

  “Samael wasn't allowed to kill,” he said, taking off his hat and eying me.

  “I'm not Samael,” I said. “I haven't made any promises to anyone in Briah. I've never even been there. And I will kill whoever the hell needs killing. And you, my friend, need to die for what you've done.”

  “Oh, I completely agree with you,” he said. He looked at me with his odd eyes. He looked earnest. “And someday someone will figure out a way to do it.” I swung the gun at him and squeezed the trigger, but Kane was gone before I even heard the report. He reappeared two feet to the left with a noise like scrabbling insects. I shot again, but the bullet just passed through empty air. Kane materialized again, his arrival like a horde of cockroaches, standing where he had begun. He smiled. “You are fresh from humanity, Miss Slobodian. You don't even know yourself yet. I've been watching you. And just now, I don't know what you saw, or what you did when you had your fingers inside my friend. But whatever it was surprised you just as much as it surprised us.”

  I glared at him.

  “Oh, you can try to shoot me,” he said. “And if you shoot me enough times, I may very well die. But, as you can see, I'll be gone before the first bullet exits the chamber. Poof. Thin air. It's terribly unfair, I know. But I must use my strengths, wouldn't you agree?”

  I felt my lip curl in distaste.

  “Oh, and if you're thinking of calling that boyfriend
of yours,” he said, “that would also be futile.”

  “What boyfriend?” I said.

  “Boyfriend, lover, whatever you lot are calling it these days. There isn't a thin spot for several hundred miles. It would take Lucifer an awfully long time to get here.”

  “Lucifer isn't my lover,” I said.

  “Is he not?” said Kane. “You'll have to forgive me. I did see you from afar...where was that? Oh, yes. Somewhere in Norway, was it? You looked quite cozy with each other outside that cabin.”

  “You've been spying on me?” I said. A chill went up my spine.

  “For quite some time now,” he said. “Ever since I learned that the famed Sasha Slobodian had a daughter. You have indeed lived up to your potential, my dear. I must commend you. But I must say.” He raised the walking stick and rubbed at it from a handkerchief he took from his pocket. “My interest in you was nothing compared to your predecessor. I was actually concerned for you on several occasions.”

  “You mean Sam?” I snapped. “What are you talking about?”

  “You did know he followed you before you actually met?”

  “He told me,” I said.

  “For years, in fact.”

  My mouth suddenly felt dry. I licked my lips with a scratchy tongue. “Years?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. It didn't work. Kane looked up from his polishing and smiled.

  “You didn't know,” he said. “How awkward.”

  “Explain,” I said, making my voice hard. “Or I will gut your friend like a pig.”

  He gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you remember the first day you opened that roach trap you called an office? Your little detective agency. You were so puffed up and proud. Your godmother took pictures of you.”

  “You were there?” I said. “That must have been ten years ago.”

  “So was Samael,” said Kane. “I could feel him.”

  “You can't know that for sure,” I said. But my hands were shaking.

  “I know that he was there. I'd stake my life on it. And I adore living.”

  “Why would he do that?” I said. But I knew. He wanted me to take over. I was his ticket to freedom. He said he knew a dark caster that could switch his curse over to me. “Do you know who his dark caster was?”

  “I wouldn't tell you if I did,” he said. “There is a limit to my good graces.”

  “Why are you here?” I spat. “Just to mess with my mind?”

  “Of course not,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

  “About?”

  “Mr. Robert Gage, formerly a Mr. Paul Watts. I believe he is a mutual acquaintance of ours.”

  “Leave him alone,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.

  “Oh, it was a fun game we've had going for the past few weeks,” said Kane. “But he seems to have taken it personally. He's almost got me a few times.”

  “You killed his goddamn family,” I said.

  “He left me,” he said weakly. I had a sudden glimpse of Kane's fragility. He looked lost, like a child. He remembered himself and narrowed his creepy eyes at me again. “He had to pay for abandoning me. I did him a kindness, though.”

  “And that would be?”

  “I kept him out of prison, didn't I?” he said. The smile was back on again. It was like he could just switch it on. “And there was the wife. I did like that girl. She brought me cookies once. Sweet Sarah we used to call her.” The smile faded. “Sweet Sarah.”

  “You let her keep her face,” I said.

  He looked at me and switched the smile on again. “Yes,” he said brightly.

  “You couldn't bring yourself to damage her, could you?” I said. “You loved her.”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” he said, smiling brighter. “It was a gift. For Paul.”

  “He didn't see it that way,” I said. “Why were you at Sofi's funeral?”

  “Just a joke,” he said. “For him.”

  “For Bobby?” I said.

  “Ah yes. That's what he's going by now.”

  “I don't think he appreciated the humor.”

  “Perhaps not,” he said. “And yet, I was amused. But he is so very tenacious.” There was a strange note of admiration to his voice. “You have to call him off. Please.”

  “I will never do anything for you,” I said. “You're disgusting.”

  “Oh dear. I had hoped we'd be friends.”

  “These people you've been killing had lives,” I said. “They had families. They had goddamn souls. And you just took it away...for what? Money?”

  “To be fair, I did very little of the actual killing,” he said.

  “That makes it worse,” I said.

  “And if I knew the dark caster that Samael was planning on using on you? If I could give you his exact location?”

  I glared at him. “I am going to help Bobby Gage figure out a way to get to you,” I said. “And then I'm going to hold you down while he kills you.”

  “He doesn't like blood, you know,” he said conspiratorially. “He'll never be able to finish the job.”

  “That was before,” I said. “He'll be fine now.”

  Kane raised an eyebrow. “Well, that is quite an accomplishment for him. How extraordinary.”

  “He'll be so pleased that you're impressed,” I said.

  “There's just one thing,” he said. He smiled. “You have to catch me first.”

  I blinked and Kane simply wasn't there anymore. I searched the air around where he had been standing. I heard the same insectile noise behind me, like a gust of wind. I whirled to find him cradling Boshta in his lap. He smiled at me. “It was lovely meeting you, Miss Slobodian. I'm sure we'll see each other again.” And with a whoosh, he and the whimpering demon were gone.

  “We'll see each other again,” I said aloud. I had seen the vision of Boshta's death. And I had seen his killer. It had been me. A monstrous version of myself, but I couldn't help that. And I knew something else: the cool, silky substance I had touched when my hand was inside Boshta wasn't something anyone could touch.

  It was his soul.

  NINETEEN

  When Gage walked into the Deep Blue Sea with doughnuts and coffee, I was sitting at the bar sipping whiskey.

  “Damn, sis,” he said, sitting next to me and pushing the cardboard cup of coffee toward me. “It's six in the morning.”

  “Nag, nag, nag,” I said. I took a careful sip of the coffee and pushed the booze away. The coffee was hot and strong. I took an apple fritter out of the box Gage offered me.

  “You haven't been, you know, working tonight, have you?” he said, taking a bite of a jelly-filled. Red liquid squirted out of the other end. I remembered the crushed dead from only an hour or two earlier. Not to mention the foamy red liquid that spurted from Roshta's fingers after I pelted him with salt. I tossed the fritter back in the box.

  “Yeah, I've been working,” I said. “And guess who showed up?”

  “I dunno,” he said through a mouthful of doughnut. “Who?”

  “Kane.”

  Gage stopped chewing and stared at me. “No shit?” he said.

  “And his demon buddy who has very big boots,” I said. I sipped coffee while Gage took it in.

  Finally, he swallowed. “What happened?”

  “His friend tried to grab my gun,” I said.

  Gage laughed. “That didn't end well for him, if I know you.”

  “I broke his arm and threw salt in his face,” I said shrugging. “Any sane person would have done the same.”

  “Where the hell did you get the salt?” he said.

  “From your hospital room,” I said. “You paranoid bastard.”

  “What'd you do to Kane?” he said quietly, looking at his coffee cup.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I tried to shoot him. More than once. But that creepy bastard is fast.”

  Gage perked up. “No sweat, sis. Don't beat yourself up.”

  “Besides,” I said. “I told him I was saving that honor for you.”

 
He nodded, and fished around for another doughnut. I could tell he was pleased. If Gage had really been out for revenge all these years, he would have been pretty disappointed if I would have just gone out and killed the guy.

  “What did he want?” he said.

  “To mess with me,” I said. “He told me a bunch of stuff about Sam.”

  “Is that it?”

  “No,” I said, smiling. “He asked me to get you to back off.”

  “You're kidding,” he said.

  “Nope. Said you were too close a few times. You, my friend, are making him nervous.”

  “Well, now you're just making me blush,” he said. He took a bite and washed it down with coffee. “What'd he say about Sam?”

  I shook my head. “We don't need to talk about it,” I said.

  “Niki,” he said, “come on. You're beyond that shit, ain't you?”

  “Beyond what?”

  “That thing you do,” he said. “Where you don't talk about stuff and then you explode and go crazy.”

  “I explode and go crazy anyway,” I said.

  “Yeah, but when you talk you don't explode about weird shit. Like that time in the waffle house.”

  “That's not fair,” I said. “Sasha had just died.”

  “You pulled a gun on a waiter for bringing you Canadian bacon.”

  “That is not bacon,” I said. “It's an atrocity.”

  “Come on, Nik. Spill.”

  “You're a real pain in the ass,” I said. He smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “Fine,” I said. “He said Sam had been watching me for a long time.”

  “You knew that, right?” he said.

  “Ten years.”

  “Oh.” Gage frowned. “Damn. That's a special kind of crazy.”

  “That's not all,” I said. “I talked to Sam last night. You know, the part of him haunting my head.”

  “Yeah?”

  I took a long drink of coffee. I wasn't sure I should even tell Gage. But it did feel good to tell someone. I didn't look at him as I spoke. “He used that mind-control thing on me when we met, just like you said. But he told me something else.”