by Willa Blair
“Dinnae move.” Darach commanded as a large muscular demon stood up. “We dinnae want any trouble, but if ye dinnae behave we will bring it.”
“What do you want, executioner?” The question coming from the creature’s mouth showed off a mean set of rancid looking fangs. How did he know what Darach was? He didn’t wear a sign and as of yet, his sword remained sheathed inside his coat.
“I want information only. If ye cooperate, then there will be no need for any violence.” At Darach’s words, Conner moved closer but stilled any further movements.
Hissing erupted from the other demons in the room. “Your kind breeds violence, MacRath.”
“He kens your name, Darach. What did ye do to make him so friendly?” Conner’s grin did not reach the green of his eyes. His stance, like Darach’s, stayed relaxed but cued to move in a flash of light if needed.
“Must be me effervescent personality. A lot of people dinnae like me. I cannae figure it out.” Darach’s smile didn’t touch the hard core of his heart. He wanted Angus, and he would do all he could to extract the demon’s whereabouts.
“Again I ask you, what do you want?” The first demon slid a bit closer to Darach. A ploy he was more than happy with.
“I want to know where Angus MacRath is.” Darach hated using his clan name in reference to the black-hearted devil, but if it would help jar some memories he’d be happy.
“MacRath, you say. Would he be kin to you?” The demon who shouted it from the back moved forward. Coal-black hair fell in a greasy mess past his shoulders. His reddened pupils glittered with malice.
“That demon spawn has never been kin to me. He stole me clan’s name and me birthright.” Darach knew he’d allowed his anger to show. Not good, he needed to be more in control.
“Well, I hate to disappoint either one of you Scottish sheep, but if I did know where Angus was, I wouldn’t waste my breath telling you.”
Conner flexed his fists, a sure sign he was ready to fight, and Darach would be overjoyed to oblige his friend. “Well then I guess we will just have to clean out this nest of vermin. What do ye think, Conner?”
“I say ye take Stringy-hair, and I’ll take Fangy here.” Conner didn’t glance his way, but Darach knew he waited for his command.
Fangy didn’t care for Conner’s words, and the sneer on Stringy’s lips didn’t bode well for a congenial conversation, but Darach could do without the talk. He wanted to pound flesh, to feed the rage of past hurts, to assuage the guilt over what he couldn’t give Abby.
“Let’s do it.” Darach followed his words with a quick right to the throat of the demon nearest him. The strength of the blow took the creature to his knees. His sword did the rest. Demon gore coated his clothes as he continued to work his way through several more of the demons.
He glanced to his right and watched as Conner scored a hit to the midsection of a demon that literally exploded with slime. God above, he hated the mess their disintegrated bodies left behind.
Once again he focused his attention on the demons trying to surround and cut him off from Conner. He kicked out with his right leg and his booted foot met with the soft flesh of a bald-headed demon’s face. He finished the job with a short thrust of his sword. Now there was only one demon standing in front of him: the stringy-haired demon who seemed to know a bit about Angus. He wanted information before he dispatched this one.
“So what are you waiting on, executioner? Let’s fight.”
For some reason, Darach believed the demon in front of him wanted to avoid a fight, why else would he stay back while the other demons were attacking?
“I dinnae think ye want to fight. I think ye want to make a deal. So let’s chat, shall we?” Darach kept his tone neutral. He didn’t want the creature to know just how desperate he was for that information.
“What about the other executioner?”
Aye, the demon wanted to avoid bloodshed or gore at any cost. Darach motioned to Conner who’d just finished the last of his demon entourage. “My friend willna interfere. Now take a seat.”
Stringy-hair did just that, but Darach opted to stand. “Now, tell me what ye ken about Angus. And if ye lie, I will dispatch you back to hell myself, if there’s enough left of the gore to send.”
“Fine, but I want safe passage out of here if I tell you anything.” The demon’s fangs came together and he almost bit his bottom lip.
“Tell me something useful, and ye can walk, providing ye get out of New Orleans.” Darach allowed his eyes to go flat, the demon drew back a bit but then growled.
“All I know is I heard some big shot from the underworld confiscated one of the warehouses near the Canal. No one I’ve talked to knows anything about him, but his first name and that he’s on some type of mission. Even some of the more aged demons are giving this dude a wide path.”
Darach shot a look at Conner and grinned. Just maybe this time he would find Angus.
“And that’s all? Ye know nothing else?”
“Nothing, but they say he’s got Lucifer’s ear and possibly a way to harm executioners.” The demon’s eyes turned a bit redder.
“So why would ye tell me this? I would think you’d want to see the executioners killed.” Darach’s puzzlement over Stringy-hair’s disclosure showed in his tone.
“Yeah, well, there are executioners and then there are executioners. You’ve never bothered me before, and you don’t make a habit of killing for no reason, so I’d hate to see someone else installed here—someone who would make my life harder to keep.”
“Well since you’re leaving NOLA it willna matter will it?”
For a moment the demon looked a bit flummoxed. “I guess not, but I look at it this way, you could have already killed me and didn’t. I’m not happy with the life I have but it’s the only one I’ve got, so I guess I owe you one.”
“You owe me nothing, demon. Just get out of NOLA and don’t look back.” Darach waited all of one second before speaking again. “That means now.”
The demon looked at Darach, then Conner, before jumping off the bar stool and heading for the door. Before he stepped over the threshold, he turned. “One other thing, I’d watch your woman if I were you. Talk on the street is she’s going to be one of Angus’s hits.”
Before Darach could ask him anything else, the demon disappeared in a ribbon of smoke.
“Well, I’d say we’ve had a pretty productive night.” Conner’s grin looked a bit forced, and Darach knew the night had brought back memories of another night when they had stood together after being attacked by a large force of demons. Conner had suffered several injuries, one to his eyes that if not by the grace of God he would have been blind for the rest of his immortal life.
“Aye, I say we did do some arse-kicking. Let’s get cleaned up and then we’ll meet Sean at the Highlander Bar. I think we both could use a drink.”
****
Darach ended up going to the bar alone. After he and Conner got cleaned up, Michael sent a message stating he needed to see the immortal so he’d called Sean, who was more than ready to call it a night.
It’d taken only a moment to ascertain that working both night and day at times was getting to the halfling. And Sean’s belief that he now believed Angus was behind all of the deaths, even the prostitute’s, was not sitting well with Darach.
“Hi, good-looking stranger.” Rae sashayed up to the booth addressing Darach and Sean. She held her pad in front of her.
“I be the good-looking one, Sean, so get that look off your face.” Darach elbowed the halfling.
“And how can you be so sure I’m talking about you, Darach. I haven’t heard a word from you since Abby ran out of here that morning over a week ago. Thank goodness she had the good will to let me know you were okay.”
“I be sorry Rae, truly. ’Tis been a hectic week.”
“Sure, and now you want me to change the subject, don’t you?” Rae’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Would ye mind? We have s
ome business to discuss.”
“No problem, just make sure you stay out of trouble. Abby is a nice woman and doesn’t need to worry about you. And come to think of it, neither do I.”
After taking their drink orders, she left them in peace for a few.
“Speaking of Abby, did you get it straightened out?” Sean grabbed a handful of nuts from the bowl resting on the Formica surface and popped them in his mouth.
“I talked to her, but nothing’s straightened out. I dinnae ken how it will ever be.”
“Well, you might want to try talking to her again, Darach.” Rae sat the drinks down with enough force the glasses thudded on the table.
“Rae—”
“Don’t ‘Rae’ me. The woman loves you and you love her. Nothing can’t be fixed when it comes to that one little emotion. Please don’t make me think you’re not the man I thought you were. Fix the problem.”
Before he could reply, Rae was gone again. Sean shot him a commiserating look. Darach picked up his drink and downed the contents. Sean did the same.
“So where’s Conner, and any ideas as to where to look next to find Angus?” The demon population, other than the group he and Conner had routed, seemed to be hiding out, a situation that sent an alert to Darach and Sean. Something was up, and they needed to find out what it was before there were more bodies.
“Conner’s with Michael and we did get one tip after taking out a group of demons near the bayou.”
Sean looked toward Rae and raised two fingers. She nodded and then gave the order to the bartender.
“Good, because I have to tell you, never in my existence have I ever seen demons cloak themselves so securely. It’s spooky.”
“I agree. There’s a foreboding in the air that won’t go away.”
“Yeah, I felt it too…wait a minute, if you felt something then maybe the magick is wearing off?” Sean looked hopeful.
Darach stared at Sean. Could he be right?
“Or I could just be feeling whatever a normal person would feel.”
“Maybe, but it’s something that Michael might be able to answer.”
Darach chuckled. “You like Michael, dinnae ye?”
“Well, yeah, he’s an entity that’s made demons wet their asbestos drawers forever. Yet, there’s something about the archangel that is…”
“Habit forming?”
“Right again. It’s like he’s almost human in a way.”
Darach took his drink from a silent Rae and thanked her. He’d put her tip on the table before he left. She was pissed enough she might refuse to take it from him.
“He does have his moments. Now back to our hunt. We got a lead on a warehouse near the bayou. I plan on checking it out.”
“Not by yourself I hope. I have to be there, remember? The dagger?”
“Aye, by myself. I dinnae think Angus will go for me unless I be by myself, and if he dinnae then the dagger is off the table anyway—since I believe he is the only one to have possession of the dagger now.”
Sean frowned. “I don’t like it. If not me then you need Conner with you.”
“I dinnae know how long Conner will be tied up with Michael, and I dinnae want Angus to get word we know about the warehouse.”
The halfling opened his mouth but both their phones going off prevented his reply. Darach glanced down and then felt the blood leave his face. The displayed text read 911 Abby’s.
“We have to go, Abby’s in trouble.” Darach’s voice shook with fear.
“I know. Arianna sent me a message also. I know where our missing demons are. They’re at Abby’s.”
Michael didn’t like how events were playing out in the mortal realm. Darach had alienated Abby. Angus was capitalizing on the immortal’s and the lieutenant’s failure to find any demons at all, and now all hell was breaking lose on Canal Street. With the no-interference rule strictly being enforced, his hands were tied.
Chapter Twenty
Darach waited only a moment after getting outside, before grabbing Sean and teleporting to Abby’s house. Several men roamed the front yard. To an unsuspecting mortal they would look just like the casually dressed men they portrayed, but he and Sean knew what shape demons could take. He just prayed they had morphed into the bodies and not stolen them from their rightful owners.
He catapulted over their heads and landed on Abby’s porch. “Leave now, and I will allow ye to live.”
The first demon smiled, the mortal glamour wearing thin as Darach glimpsed yellow and jagged teeth.
“Did you not learn anything the last time, executioner? I thought you immortals were a smarter breed.”
Darach fought the urge to reach out and clamp his hand around the demon’s throat. His headcount showed at least eight of them. More than in the alley, but fewer than with Conner, and now with Sean, he figured the odds were about even.
“Smart enough to know ye are the pawn of a demon who does not care if ye live or die.”
The other demons snarled their displeasure. Out the corner of his eye he glimpsed Sean who kept an eye on the ones ringing the steps on his side, as Darach looked to the leader and the others.
“And how do you expect to take all of us down, immortal, when you are cursed by the blade of Lucifer?”
Again out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sean, who dropped his glamour, waiting a bit impatiently.
“Cursed is your term, not mine. I still have more than enough strength to kill a few demons. And as ye see I be not the only one who will be fighting this battle.”
The leader turned his head and his now reddened eyes bulged. “What manner of demon is this?”
“What’s the matter, sulfur-face? Haven’t you ever seen a half-breed demon before?” Sean’s laughter caused several of the demons to back away.
Sulfur-face stood his ground. “What is the matter with the rest of you? He’s just like us and he will die like any demon.”
One of the demons near Darach spoke. “And the sooner we kill them both the sooner we can have the women.” His evil grin made Darach want to rip his teeth out and crammed them up his unholy ass.
“That’s right, my friends, our mentor has promised us great rewards when we deliver the mortal and immortal females to him.” Sulfur-face grinned showing his nasty fangs.
The him the demon mentioned caught Darach’s attention.
“This ‘him’ ye speak of, is it the demon who is sending ye to your deaths? For if ye touch the women ye all will do more than die, ye will suffer torture like the fires of hell were a candle’s flame.”
Sulfur-face sneered. “And just what torture could you devise?”
As Darach had been taunting the demon, Sean had edged closer to the one nearest him. The fanged creature seemed to be too enthralled with the exchange between his leader and Darach to notice. Now, if he could keep their attention a bit longer, he and Sean could launch their attack.
“’Tis not me torture ye will suffer but that of the archangel Michael. I believe he has a special way of dealing with those who work in evil. Much the same way he dealt with those who tried to overthrow God.”
All of the demons visibly shook at the mention of Michael. Darach had to give the archangel credit, he certainly knew how to incite fear even from a distance.
A barely perceptible nod from Sean and Darach struck. His sword cut a path from the leader’s head to his ass. Sulfur-face’s glamour fell away leaving behind scaly skin and oozing wounds. At least he had not taken an innocent’s body. His sword struck again and the demon disintegrated into particles of air.
His gaze found Sean who was tossing fireballs at his opponent. Darach wasn’t even sure Sean knew he could do that before tonight, but he was glad for the skill. It would make the night’s work easier.
His sword found a new victim and demon debris flew in the air once again. As he and Sean continued to mow down demons, the previous still air began to fill with a slow but steady wind. It grew stronger, swirling the dust and leftover slime from
the demons already dead to encompass the ones they were still dispatching.
As the last one exhaled a dying breath, the wind swirled once more before leaving as quickly as it arrived. Darach thought he heard a faint “Well done” but couldn’t be sure.
As he reached to sheathe his sword, and Sean shook his hands in the air, the door behind them opened pouring out first Arianna, followed by Abby.
The immortal moved to Sean as Abby stood watching Darach. He did the only thing he could do—he opened his arms. His heart thudded loudly enough he heard it in his head when Abby threw herself against him. He welcomed the slight weight of her body but hated the tears that soaked into his shirt. She was frightened, something that should not have happened. The demons should never have breached the safety guards of the house and land’s perimeters.
“Hush, lass. ’Tis over.”
Abby’s small fists pummeled his chest. “I’m not crying because I was scared of them, you big ox, I’m crying ’cause I was afraid you would be killed.”
“Oh…”
He looked over Abby’s head as he patted her gently on the back. Sean and Arianna were staring at the both of them. Darach lightly shrugged his shoulders. A silent but dual “Talk to her,” came from both their mouths. He nodded and then gathered Abby even closer.
“I be fine, Abby, love. Now, let’s get you inside.” Not sure of whether she should lie down or not, Darach decided to err on the side of caution. It had been a traumatic night for all involved, and as the only mortal she might need the comfort of her bed.
The knowledge that Abby hated teleporting had him rushing up the steps to the second floor, his boots making hollow sounds on the stairs. He walked through the open doorway and placed her gently on the unmade bed. For the first time since she’d thrown herself into his arms, Darach realized she was dressed for bed. Of course she would be, it was the middle of the night.
Now, unsure of what to do, he paced the room’s circumference. As he moved back and forth he realized he’d done more pacing since he’d met Abby than in the century before.
