Blood Pact

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Blood Pact Page 9

by Nazri Noor


  Gullible, I leaned in. “Then hurry up and do something about this, my lips are melting.”

  Herald laughed and shoved me in the chest. “Joke. Total joke. There, down this corner. I’m pretty sure there’s a Happy Boba here.”

  Herald was right. Herald was always right, the milk tea did wonders. The creamy sweetness of it ran the spice right out of my mouth, and as Herald explained while I wordlessly inhaled an entire cupful of bubble tea, that was why it was a good idea to grab a Thai tea every time we went out for some pineapple rice and curry, or a mango lassi when we went for some Indian. I loved that Herald loved food as much as I did. I loved food, and I loved Herald. It all worked out for me in the end.

  I know, I said love. Stop laughing at me.

  This was how we usually spent our date nights, hunting down great places to eat throughout Valero. Herald would turn to the internet to check on reviews or sniff out popup restaurants, and I would tag along and eat everything in sight. And Little China offered a fantastic selection all on its own. I think we’d been at least three times in as many weeks.

  I stashed my empty boba in a trash can, wondering briefly if I should convince Herald to turn around with me and grab a second one, when I noticed that we were near someplace familiar.

  “Hey,” I told him. “This is Prudence’s grandma’s place. You might want to drop by when it’s open, find some things to use in your alchemy.”

  Madam Chien’s apothecary was completely dark and empty, of course, what with both her and Prudence being out of the country, but Herald pressed himself up against the glass all the same, his mouth half open as he stared hard at the shop’s contents.

  “Don’t get too close,” I said. “You don’t want the security system going off, plus Madam Chien keeps the place pretty heavily warded.”

  “Oh, I can tell,” Herald said absently, his eyes focused on the rows upon rows of rare ingredients Madam Chien kept stocked. Without looking, he pointed at the front door. “See those talismans? They’re rigged to explode if anyone tries anything funny.”

  I glanced at the door, open mouthed. “Holy shit.”

  “Yep,” Herald said. “She can always blame it on faulty wiring or whatever. Old building, you know? And she does keep some crazy exotic reagents in here. Really rare stuff. She needs to make sure it’s all safe and secure.”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding towards the far end of the shop. “Especially that golden glow-y thing down that aisle.”

  Herald frowned. “Wait. What the hell is that?”

  The glow brightened, slowly, at first, but it suddenly flared so harshly that the entirety of the shop was bathed in a rich, golden light.

  “Oh shit,” I muttered. “Is it going to blow?”

  Herald tugged on my wrist. “We’re not waiting to find out.”

  We ran for the other sidewalk, and I glanced around hurriedly, ready to shout a warning to any normals nearby, when I noticed that we were totally alone. Herald and I ran side by side, nearly clearing the street when I slammed painfully into a sturdy, invisible force. Herald stopped short, luckily, but I could feel my teeth rattling in my head. I fell on my ass, which is not great when the falling involves said ass hitting a concrete sidewalk.

  “Fucking ouch,” I grumbled, rubbing my forehead, my eyelids. “Donovan Slint,” I shouted. “I know you’re around here somewhere, you goddamn asshole.”

  “Uh, Dust,” Herald said. “This isn’t Donovan. Pretty sure it isn’t human at all, really.”

  I thought that the collision was what had caused the swimming brightness behind my eyelids, but no – when I opened my eyes, the golden light was in front of us, no longer content to wait and linger in Madam Chien’s apothecary. Herald pulled me to my feet, a swirl of purple energy in the palm of his hand already waiting to be formed into a spell, and we backed away from the light cautiously.

  “The fuck is it?” I whispered, readying a fireball. “Angel? Not another one of these guys.”

  Herald’s breath was heavy from the exertion. He adjusted his glasses, their lenses briefly flickering. What, were those enchanted, too, like those pink shades the Fuck-Tons were wearing? Did I miss out on some arcane eyewear trend?

  “Not an angel,” he said. “Worse.”

  “Dustin Graves,” a familiar voice called from within the pulse of golden light. “Has it been so long? Do you no longer recognize the gilded countenance of the demon prince of greed?”

  Chapter 19

  There the demon prince stood, in very much the same way I’d last seen it: under the light of a streetlamp. Mammon shone like a ruby, wearing its trademark brilliant red suit, its hair in that beautiful, androgynous coif. A single golden hoop dangled from its left ear, and its eyes, bright green like emeralds, like the scales of a serpent, gleamed at me. Mammon’s smile was as sharp a sickle.

  “Greetings, humans,” the demon said.

  “Mammon,” I said, doing my best to hide the tremor in my voice. “It’s definitely been a while. How are things in hell?”

  “Not too terribly, thing of shadows. The question truly applies to all of the hells. In which case? Mammon is hesitant to say.”

  I bent closer to the ground, curling my fingers over a ball, invisible but already burning with white heat. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Herald doing pretty much the same thing, loosely clutching his fingers over tiny clumps of ice.

  “Gentlemen, there really isn’t any need for violence. Mammon simply wants to speak, to hold a conversation with the court of greed’s dearest friends.”

  The demon spread its arms, hands and fingers unfurled, as if to show that it meant no harm.

  “I don’t know how you can expect me to believe that,” I said. “You sent your minions after us.”

  Herald nudged me in the ribs, leaning in to whisper. “Remember the last time? I’m pretty sure we can’t trust this thing.”

  Mammon chuckled. “Thing indeed,” it said. “Mammon is not here to play any tricks. Mammon wishes to offer you a bargain.”

  I looked at the demon, then at Herald, bending in even closer to speak. “Don’t forget, it has really good senses, and can probably still hear exactly what I’m saying.”

  “This is true,” Mammon said, nodding.

  “I might have forgotten to mention,” I said to Herald, “but three demons totally attacked us outside the Leather Glovebox.”

  “Guilty as charged,” the demon said, spreading its hands even wider, giving us a simpering grin. “But the minions of greed were not sent to harm you. Merely to retrieve your precious cargo.”

  The flames in my hand snuffed out. I stood stock-still. “Banjo?”

  “The dog?” Herald said.

  “Correct. Mammon only desires to keep the dog, as an addition to its growing collection of curiosities, the way the Tome of Annihilation was once added to Mammon’s library.”

  I reached for my backpack, prepared to release Vanitas. I could feel him thrashing around inside of his pocket dimension. He hadn’t been blooded in a while, which must have accounted for his feistiness. Plus he’d had a hankering for god’s blood that was never truly slaked, and now here he was barely inches away from tasting demon blood for the first time. And not just any demon either, but the prince of greed.

  That was when I remembered just what Herald and I were up against. A prince of hell might easily be counted among the most powerful entities we could encounter in the wild, and there was always that very curious caveat about the mortality of demons and angels. If Mammon was to be believed, there was no way to truly kill the more powerful and ancient among them, even outside of their domicile, in their case, heaven or hell.

  “You are hesitant. Mammon understands completely. The dog is a rare commodity, after all. Perhaps Mammon will even be able to help you find the source of the creature, whatever – or whoever it was that granted the canine its bizarre and immense power.”

  “Pass,” I told Mammon. Then, turning to my backpack, I hissed. “Dammit, fine,
I’ll let you out, but only if you promise not to attack the super dangerous, super vindictive entity.”

  “Dust?” Herald said. “What the hell are you even saying?”

  “Mammon is certainly confused.”

  Against my better judgment, I lifted the flap of my leather backpack. Vanitas flew out instantly, but before he could head straight for the demon prince of greed, I reached out and grabbed him by the hilt. No small feat, I’ll tell you that much, because we all know how stupendously forceful Vanitas can be. And we all know that, despite how totally ripped and muscular I am, I do still have limited reserves of physical strength. I’m only human after all. I’m only slightly ashamed to admit that he dragged me along the sidewalk a short distance before I managed to wrangle him under physical control.

  “Let go of me,” Vanitas grunted. “I said no touchy. I thought we established that.”

  “I remember,” I said. “But this is a special case. I don’t want you cutting anyone open.”

  “You do realize that I only have to slip myself out of my scabbard? The blunter half of me is just as good at smashing and killing things.” Vanitas laughed inside of my head. “It just takes longer to kill something dead if you’re trying to pulverize it.”

  “What is this?” Mammon said, its feet leaving footprints of molten gold as it retreated. “Why, this is the very blade that you beseeched Mammon to reforge. How cruel that you would now choose to turn that same blade against its smith.”

  “Think of it as an insurance policy,” I said, grunting as I struggled to hold Vanitas in place. Sweat was forming on my forehead, dripping down my back. “Just making sure we can have this conversation without you banishing us to another dimension.”

  “Why, Mammon would never do such a thing.” The demon tittered nervously. “Are you perhaps referring to the first time you visited Mammon with your beloved?” Mammon nodded at Herald.

  Herald rolled his eyes, tutting. “See? Even demon princes knew we were a thing before you did, Dust. And yes, Mammon. It was the only time we visited you – shortly before you hurled us into Amaterasu’s domicile.”

  “And now you are together, as mates,” Mammon breathed. “See how Mammon has served you so well? Wonderful. Mazel tov.”

  “Damn it, not the time or place.” I finally managed to wrestle Vanitas into submission, something that I had to do by practically hugging him against my chest, sword and scabbard both. I knew he was going to have some very choice words with me later, as if he wasn’t already so pissed off.

  “Let me at ’em,” Vanitas said, bucking and thrashing in my arms. “Gonna tear things to pieces.”

  Mammon sneered at us, its fangs gleaming in the streetlight, the tips of its fingers dripping with molten gold. “Enough of this. Mammon reforged that blade from the fires of its own hells. Do you truly believe that Mammon fears a glorified kitchen knife? Now, make arrangements to surrender your little dog to the court of greed, or consider the consequences.”

  “That was a threat,” Vanitas shouted in my mind. “Let me at ’em.”

  Mammon raised its chin, grinning in defiance. “Surrender the dog, or Mammon will be more than delighted to send the forces of greed after you and your friends, Dustin Graves. A fair trade, is it not?”

  “Definitely a threat,” I said.

  “Counter offer,” Herald said. “You leave us alone, and you leave Banjo alone, or – or we’ll alert the other courts of hell. See how well you fare when you’re up against your own.”

  Mammon staggered back, as if struck by a flurry of invisible blows. Its hands fluttered to its chest. “You wouldn’t dare. Why, the flood of demons alone that would come after you, pestering you day and night, hounding your every step? You would never.”

  Herald was bluffing. He must have been. I couldn’t imagine how the other courts of hell dealt with their problems, but I had a feeling that certain princes would be willing to handle the situation with less delicacy and slightly more violence than Mammon would. I tried to imagine how the prince of wrath would handle brokering the exchange of a magical corgi, and I shuddered.

  “Hand over the dog,” Mammon said, “and you will be greatly rewarded. Gemstones. Artifacts of the greatest power. Perhaps even that paper currency that you humans are so fond of.” The demon prince extended one gold-lacquered finger towards me. “And for you, thing of shadows, perhaps even renewed access to that which you desire most.”

  My heart froze in my chest. The Dark Room. Hello – demon prince of greed? Of course Mammon knew exactly what I wanted.

  Herald cocked an eyebrow, then leaned in to whisper. “What’s he talking about, Dust?”

  “It’s nothing,” I stammered.

  “That is Mammon’s best and final offer,” the demon prince said, grinning knowingly, its emerald eyes gleaming with mad glee. “One that must be very tempting for you, thing of shadows. For surely you long for the safety and power of the chamber that lives inside your – ”

  “We humbly decline your offer.”

  I released Vanitas.

  Chapter 20

  Vanitas went flying, his laughter filling my ears as he soared forth, drowning out the rest of the demon’s words. Herald clutched my wrist – I don’t know, to make sure we would be ready to run – his other hand wreathed in purple energy, his equivalent of a cocked gun, a drawn sword.

  Mammon snarled as it expertly fought off Vanitas, sword and scabbard, deflecting every strike with its nails, with the palms of its delicate, lily-white hands. Every blow rang like steel against steel, and the battle between the demon prince and my sentient sword raged on in a whirlwind of verdigris green, red garnets, and golden talons.

  Briefly I considered lobbing a fireball or two in the fray. Surely that wouldn’t hurt Vanitas. He was made of enchanted metal, right? But it’d probably only piss off Mammon even more.

  “Enough,” Mammon hissed.

  “Stand down,” I told Vanitas. He sprang away immediately, to my surprise, his two pieces taking position and hovering to either side of me.

  “The two of you have dealt with Mammon before, and you know that the demon princes always have their way. This is not over.”

  “Sure isn’t,” I said, tensing my muscles, thrusting my chest out, despite my insides quivering like jelly. I knew I said I wasn’t going to piss off the supremely powerful member of demon royalty standing several feet away from us even more, but you know me. Couldn’t help myself. “We’ll beat you away with a stick if we have to.”

  Mammon’s fangs gleamed as its lips drew back, a flush of red running up its alabaster neck and cheeks. “Mammon should not have put so much care into reforging this carving knife. So very foolish of Mammon. Such an unintelligent investment.”

  It went on, muttering under its breath, talking about liabilities, terrible returns, and something about pulling out someone’s spine. Mine, I would guess.

  “Mammon will see you again, fool mortals. Oh, yes. And for Mammon’s trouble, this time Mammon will claim the dog – and the sword.”

  I turned my lip up, my heart searing with sudden panic. “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try.” Shut up, shut up, shut up.

  “Dust,” Herald hissed. “Jesus.”

  Mammon grinned. “Do not write checks your mouth cannot cash, Dustin Graves. Mammon will come to collect, and soon. Farewell. For now.”

  The demon cackled, then sank into the pool of liquid gold at its feet. The air rushed out of me in one go, my chest deflating, my shoulders drooping.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God. You guys, it knows where I live. Mammon visited me at the Boneyard that one time.”

  Herald clapped his hands slowly, mocking me. “Good job. Really, Dust. Super great work.”

  “Let it come,” Vanitas grunted, sliding his sword back into his scabbard, then nudging the flap of my backpack open on his own. “All that ruckus and I didn’t even get to taste its blood. Noble demon blood, too.”

  He kept on grumbling as he wriggled his way into his pocket di
mension. Herald shook his hand, threads of violet magic coming loose as he did, and he folded his arms across his chest, sighing.

  “You and I both know that Mammon is going to come after you. And it’s not going to be pretty. The demon princes are relentless.”

  I pushed my fingers into my forehead, staving off a headache. “Yeah. Sure. But you know that it wouldn’t have mattered whether or not I was mouthy earlier, right? Mammon is going to come for Banjo either way.”

  “Listen,” Herald said. “Mammon wouldn’t be quite so pissed if you weren’t so sassy. This wouldn’t have turned out so bad if you’d just been more polite about it.”

  I threw up my hands. “I panicked, okay?”

  “It’s your defining trait.”

  “Exactly.” I sighed. “But we can’t just give up the dog. We don’t even know what it is yet.”

  “Which is why I still think it’s a good idea to consult the right entity. Go to Artemis. Goddess of the hunt, remember? She’s probably familiar with all kinds of magical animals.”

  “That’s what the guys said.” I scratched the end of my nose. “But really? A magical corgi? That’s not in the myths anywhere. What would she know about it?”

  “Well, do you have any better ideas?”

  “Just one. We should get the hell off the street before Mammon decides to send more lackeys.”

  Herald smirked at me. “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.”

  “Shut up.”

  We walked fast. Herald suggested that we get a rideshare somewhere busier and more brightly lit so we wouldn’t have to wait and risk being jumped in the dark. I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets, the brisk pace winding me a little because of my insistence on talking. I was curious.

  “You’re the demonologist,” I said. “So there’s a bunch of demon princes, right? One for every sin?”

  “More than that,” Herald said. “We’ve been over this. The Seven are the most powerful and influential, naturally, but there’s a prince for nearly every vice. It doesn’t get super specific, but I’d say there are scores of them. Maybe a few hundred.”

 

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