by L. A. Banks
“How about if y’all leave the door open so I can hear and add my two cents, and I stay out here with her and Carlos. I’d hate to see Rivera wake up in the morning a Third gen. I don’t think he’d like the demotion.” Rider glared at Tara and then looked down at Carlos.
“If she goes there, he wouldn’t wake up,” Yonnie said through his instantly lowered incisors. “Put money on that, even though that’s my boy.”
“I didn’t deserve that,” Tara hissed, glancing at Rider, then Yonnie. She stood. “He hasn’t fully apexed, and even if he had,” she snapped, walking to the edge of the porch, “Damali is my friend.”
Rider put the safety back on his weapon and cast his hard gaze out toward the moon. Yonnie normalized and folded his arms, staring out toward the horizon.
“I got the yard,” Yonnie said in a begrudging mutter.
The rest of the team filed inside. Damali waited as edgy Guardians filed into the dining room behind her. Marlene looked at her.
Mar, how could he be dead drunk at a time like this!
Not, now, baby. He’s seen the Light, but hasn’t found the Light within himself yet. Give him time.
Screw that! His ass is worthless in this condition. This is—
Focus on the task at hand.
She took a deep breath. All right, say a prayer and let’s do this.
Damali raked her locks and dropped the private connection to Marlene and waited for her to seal the room against Yonnie and Tara’s ears. She placed both hands on the table and closed her eyes to keep from screaming.
“Listen,” Damali said as she let her breath out hard. “I’ve explained how these things seem to roll, how fast they move, and what liquefies them—so stay sharp. From what I sensed, they’re on the move.”
“If they’re tortured demon remains and still have enough negative energy to have them in feeding zones,” Marlene said as she lifted the sweat-damped hair off her neck, “then they’re probably coming back to where they were killed or had a grudge.” She looked at Damali and a silent understanding passed between them. “We know demons, like ghosts, are location-locked. Raven had vampire in her, so she could trail you and me wherever. But your foster father wasn’t a vamp, so if he moved past the location where he was killed as one of the undead to find you here, then it stands to reason that he had to be following negative grudge energy.”
“Good enough theory to work with for now, Mar. That bastard was definitely a demon while alive,” Damali said, her line of vision going toward J.L. and Krissy. “Let’s go with that hunch and see if we can get something to confirm it. Fire up a computer, get on the Net, and see if you can pick up any weird news services, crazy sighting reports, anything that sounds like what I just saw. I wanna know when the sightings began, regions, anything. Check the spook nets and paranormal watchdog sites in cyberspace.”
Krissy and J.L. almost bumped into each other as they both snagged laptops and sat next to each other, their eyes intermittently glancing at their screens and Damali.
“I know you’re the bomb, but how’d you pick all that up? The thing about the grudge,” Dan asked, his gaze flitting to Marlene for confirmation, but paying way too much attention to J.L. and Krissy.
“Because, like I said, it was her foster father and he didn’t die on this land,” Marlene muttered.
“Yeah,” Damali agreed, her voice tight. “The one who tried to molest me when I was living with Inez. He got smoked by some people who knew some people, and he probably came back from the realms where I suppose his bestial ass should have gone. Amanthra revenge level and were-demon realms—Levels Four and Five. The signature scents were all over him.”
For a moment, no one spoke. She’d never openly admitted the private violation to anyone but Inez. Now, like all the other humiliations in her life, this, too, was out on the table for family inspection. Jose’s eyes met hers and held such empathy that she had to glance away. When Marjorie covered her mouth, Damali began to pace. “All right. So, that means demon food, the Damned, is getting spit back up topside.”
“Lilith’s open portals,” Marlene said quietly, seeming deep in thought. “When you injured her, maybe she didn’t have enough energy to seal them behind her?”
“Or maybe none of the entities on any level had enough balls, or juice, to go behind a Level-Seven sister?” Shabazz folded his arms over his chest. “The thing that’s fucking me up is, nobody on the team felt it—even though we’d run the portals checks by the numbers after the Philly job … which means we’re slipping.”
“The bigger question is,” Rider said, clearing his sinuses, “why are we slipping? How’d the hell we miss that?”
“Yeah, unfortunately, the person I could ask for sure about the portals or our senses being off is out cold,” Damali said flatly. “Lilith was on the run, like the Chairman. I doubt either one of them went home to face Poppa on Level Seven and tell him they’d been bad children. If that’s who opened the portals, then that would be the only entity that had enough juice to close them off … but I’m with Rider. How come we didn’t feel it? Even Tara and Yonnie didn’t pick that up.”
Damali walked back and forth between the table and the wall, as though trapped. “We need to know what this fleeing food can do, besides kill innocent people. Do they turn people? If so, what do they become, where do they come up from, what’s the gestation if a human gets injured by one, but lives? I want to know everything about this madness. Get Father Pat on the phone, and ask him to do whatever he can to secure the convo from the Vatican, if that’s where he is. Something tells me we need a double layer of protection on this discussion.”
They waited as J.L. left his laptop and tried to raise the aging cleric by a landline.
“Hold it,” Krissy said, standing with her system and rushing over to Damali. “Look. Woman eats boyfriend’s heart in hotel. Police still looking for the weapon that opened his rib cage. Entrails everywhere. A month earlier, assailant had tried to file a report and obtain a restraining order, claiming her ex-husband had come back from the dead and beat her. Assailant was subdued and taken into police custody. Defense attorney’s seeking insanity plea. Assailant awaits trial in Mississippi facility for the criminally insane.” Krissy shoved the laptop into Damali’s hands, seeming both proud of her work and scared.
“Dear God,” Marjorie whispered.
“What’s the date on that?” Damali muttered, visually scanning the article and then shoving the laptop back toward Krissy to grab.
“Not quite a month ago,” Krissy said, and then looked at J.L.
For a moment Damali didn’t speak. Krissy and J.L. were supposed to be constantly monitoring all the crazy news sources, and had been off the job. What was up with that? What had those two been doing all this time! Scratch the question; her ears were ringing with fury. She let out a slow but impatient breath and tried to keep her focus on the immediate need for information. Later, she’d address the critical lapse.
“You done good, Kris,” J.L. said, nodding, his gaze holding hers.
“J.L., you mind getting that landline to Father Pat?” Damali said, growing more peevish. They didn’t have time for this. When Carlos got back up, she’d knock his ass out cold for leaving her in the middle of this mayhem.
Finally, after fifteen tense minutes, J.L. got through to the senior cleric and everybody almost shouted at once.
“I cannot speak this over the airwaves, but it is why we were all called back to our respective headquarters,” Father Patrick said once the commotion died down. “Damali, with Marlene, to boost the mental transmission, I have to send this to you directly. All right?”
“Do it,” Damali said, closing her eyes and waiting for Marlene’s hand to fill hers. She could feel how weak the elderly man’s signal had become, but had to shunt aside that concern about his oddly fatigued condition. Marlene’s quiet prayers enveloped them as Father Patrick’s message came through in fits and starts.
Look at the news reports online. The ta
bloids. Mainstream media is not broadcasting this; the world governments are keeping a lid on public panic. Infection is rampant. It passes by touch, not bite. One touch. Then that person touches another, and another.
Father Pat, Damali said, alarmed, why didn’t you alert us immediately?
Since the appearance of Lilith and the Chairman’s abandoned throne, we have been in cloistered conference to keep all information within our clerical units until we knew more. Initially, the sightings seemed like normal demon activity, which all Guardian teams are well versed in and can handle. But our research took us to The Book of the Damned.
Something didn’t sit right within Damali’s gut. If the clerics knew something was up, they should have immediately alerted the Neterus and the Guardian squad. There was more to this, and she could feel the tension in Father Patrick’s silence. She took her time responding to his statement.
What is The Book of the Damned? Damali could feel the older cleric’s lock weakening, his age, the distance, and level of his fatigue wearing him down.
“Okay, nix the question,” she said aloud into the speakerphone, trying to preserve his psychic energy so she could learn more. Clearly, even in the extremely private mental exchange, he wasn’t ready to divulge everything. That really troubled her, and she knew it had to be bad if the old man was even shielding portions of a Neteru-to-Covenant telepathic transmission. Fine. Then she’d pose a more generic question for the sake of the team; her squad needed to know what they were up against without any additional bullshit getting in the way. “Just tell me what we’re looking for.”
We have been in meetings debating the cause, he said in mental fits and sputters, as though his brain needed to rest, and ignoring her attempt to give the team more data to go on. All that we know is these creatures make normal humans begin to manifest demonic behaviors. Regular people who have been infected begin acting like those entities from the realms of the undead carrier that touched them. Normal people are becoming cannibals, bearing super strength. Whatever level the infected entity came from, and whenever it touches but doesn’t kill a living human, that person takes on the demon characteristics from that level.
“I don’t understand,” Damali said, speaking out loud for the benefit of the team, too annoyed with the Covenant’s decision to keep her and her squad in the blind for something as major as this. She felt a sense of betrayal that made her defiant.
I know how you feel, Father Pat said gently, trying to send healing balm into her mind with his thoughts. For instance, exorcisms are on the rise, as possessions mount from incubi- and succubae-like inhabitations. Living people are slithering up the walls of their homes, attacking those closest to them. Deviant behaviors from those realms are epidemic. It seems to have a twenty-eight- to thirty-day gestation period, like the phases of the moon. But the humans infected by these entities come out during the daylight hours as well.
How do you know it’s only twenty-eight days? Damali shot back, squeezing Marlene’s hand.
“Because the normal person drops dead,” Father Patrick said aloud, saving his mental fuel. “Then they get back up and walk after they’re buried. But not only do they sustain every death wound they’d received; they’ve been eaten by the creatures of the realms their souls have been sent to. When you see them, what they are is unmistakable.”
Shabazz raked his locks as the rest of the team slowly found something to sit down on.
“If we kill the carrier, do the rest of the ones they’ve touched bite the dust?” Damali waited. This time Marlene gripped her hand more tightly.
“No,” Father Patrick said after a moment. “It is exponential. You can kill the carrier, but it keeps spreading from the next infected and so on. We are working on a cure as we speak, because for those that haven’t died or killed another living soul, there may be hope.”
Damali squeezed Marlene’s hands. You’ve gotta talk to Kamal as soon as possible.
Tears stood in Marlene’s eyes, and she released Damali’s palms and wrapped her arms around herself to gather composure. It was pure reflex, but the physical break caused further signal dropout between Damali and Father Patrick.
Damali gave Marlene a firm but gentle gaze. I know you’re dying, but not now. Hold my hands, we’ll finish this. You tell Shabazz straight up that a conversation is necessary—no bullshit. Kamal is a Guardian, and if his men are out there fighting hand-to-hand combat, like they do, they might run into a problem.
Marlene nodded and clasped Damali’s hands tightly; her eyes wild, her lips pursed shut. Oh, Jesus …
Breathe, Damali ordered, compassion making her chest tight. We ain’t letting him go out like that. Kamal is one of ours, too. Center, and breathe, so we can talk to Father Pat.
“Everything all right, Mar?” Shabazz asked, standing.
Rider poked his head in the door and glanced at Marlene then Shabazz.
“She’s cool,” Damali said. “But this mess we’re hearing ain’t no joke. Stand down, big brother, and let us work.”
Shabazz cocked his head to the side, gave them both a skeptical glare, but eventually fell back and leaned with a thud against the wall.
Once Marlene finally focused, Damali lit right into Father Pat’s mind with hard questions. How do we seal the weak portals to keep more demon food from spilling out?
Kill Lilith, Father Patrick said. As long as she’s topside they will leech into the gray zone.
Done. Anybody got a location on her?
Not yet. Our most highly trained seers have never been able to find her. Even in the dawn of days, Adam couldn’t, nor could Eve. She’s very shrewd. Three angels sought her, and they couldn’t find her.
The Chairman is after her, so we follow him, then, Damali said. We’re pros at finding vamps.
Where is Carlos?
For the first time since the conversation began, Damali hesitated. “Dead drunk,” she said aloud with enough emphasis that the team members’ worried gazes immediately shot toward the porch in unison.
“That’s not good,” Father Patrick said over the speakerphone. “Not at a time like this.”
“You’re telling me?” Damali replied, her voice oozing with sarcasm. “Try irresponsible, stupid, totally …” She closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath.
“What if he accidentally got bitten by one of those things?” Dan offered, defending Carlos. “Maybe that’s why he’s out there asleep and nobody can get him up, you know? I mean, we’ve never seen him outta control like this. What if he’s really hurt?”
“The Damned cannot infect a Neteru,” Father Patrick said bluntly. “Just like Neterus are impervious to the other demon bites.”
“Oh,” Dan said quietly and looked out the window.
If you know it can’t pass to a Neteru, then you’ve dealt with this before? Damali waited. The elderly cleric had slipped and told her more than he’d intended. Her tattoo was tingling. She knew what was said next would hold the answer to why the Covenant was being so cagey.
Father Patrick sighed. “Drop Marlene’s hand. Only me and you.”
Damali glanced at Marlene as their hands parted but their gaze held each other’s intensely.
Adam went after several Lilim. I’m sure you can understand why, Father Pat said. The Amanthras thought they could claim him through vengeance … given what happened with Lilith, then subsequently, Eve. They allowed one of their damned out of the Amanthra feeding nests to attack him, given that it was too risky for a demon in that era to show themselves topside with the Almighty’s wrath still at an all-time high. Remember, these were the old biblical days and forgiveness was nigh. Eden had been breeched.
Damali ran her palms over her face, better understanding why the Covenant was trippin’ so hard. If this mess went back to Adam, and he’d been attacked …
Quite right, Father Patrick said. He conquered the creature much as you instinctively did, using Red Sea salts. Adam used what the angels that sought Lilith and her Lilim used, crystall
ine tracker that had her energy in it to hold her, but with something so much more in the crystallized element of salt. Adam was injured by one when he fought it, but never carried the infection, or passed it to his family or others, even though it had touched him. So, we know Neterus aren’t carriers.
What’s with the salt, why that more than any of our other weapons? I mean, my on-the-fly theory worked—burn it to temporarily disable it, but you guys seem to know—
Crystallized natural minerals from the sea that was much-later parted by the Hand of God, from the holy region near Eden. Crystals hold a charge. Light infused from the Almighty’s creation lightning arc … and it worked for you because it had been charged again from the waters parting during Moses’ time.
’Nuff said. I got it. Salt from the water parted by the Hand of God …
Yes, Damali. We know that something as simple as salt, but as profound as the Creator’s touch, stops the Damned. But the damage they can do once they are topside is enormous. Even if we get them all, who they’ve infected is an anathema to us until those people start exhibiting clear signs of the infection. We have been making combinations of saline solution to try to use as an antidote, to no avail thus far. There is also the problem of how to quickly distribute it, how to know who was infected, and how to inoculate anyone who hasn’t been yet. We just don’t know, and time is of the essence.
Damali’s thoughts whirled. If Adam had seen this, so had Eve. Which meant her Neteru queen would know what they did not. There had to be an antidote. And if Carlos could get his act together, maybe he could ask his ancestral Council of Neteru kings a thing or two as well. But that was a conversation for another day.
All right, Father Pat. We find the Chairman, use him as bait to get to Lilith, and put them both to sleep. That should close the portals. Sounds like we’ve got thirty days or less, given we don’t know how many actually came up right after the battle in Philly. They could have just started coming up a month or two ago, or maybe more. Problem is we just don’t know how many humans have been infected.
