Fallen Stars (The Demon Accords)

by John Conroe

  “That’s… awesome!” he said. “But I’m gonna need a minute or two.”

  He went back into his Alpha’s bedroom and after a few moments, we heard the sound of bones breaking and crunching as he rebuilt himself into something larger.

  When he stepped back out, he was damned impressive. Over eight feet tall, and he had to weigh close to five hundred pounds. Black fur covered the massive muscles that corded his limbs, torso, and legs. His jaws would easily close over a grown man’s head. But his eyes still held their full measure of human intelligence and feeling.

  “Okay, here’s how it goes. ‘Sos, you’re up first. Just go right through the door and kill anything you find on the other side. Me next, then Jep, and finally Stacia. Stacia, I want you to stand overwatch on me when I sit down. Blast anything that gets by these two,” I instructed, pointing at the bear and wolfman, who both looked offended at the implication that anything could get past them.

  “Specifically, the ones that crawl on the ceiling,” I said to her but looked sideways at the two massive forms next to her. That appeared to mollify their wounded egos.

  With everybody clear on the plan, I opened the staircase door and looked up at the next door at the top of the stairs. It was bowing out against the spikes I had nailed in place, flexing like something monstrous was pushing on it repeatedly.

  “'Sos, you’re up!”

  More than a half-ton of supernatural muscle and bone shoved passed me, flowing up the stairs in a remarkably graceful blur. The door at the top of the stairs, its attached frame, and whatever had been pushing on it all disappeared in a crash. I was right behind him, Grim directing my actions as we jumped into the hellish scene. Something with tentacles squirmed under the door, its motions frantic at the crushing weight of my were-bear standing on top of it.

  Awasos batted a big scorpion-looking thing across the room. The arachnid bounced off the plaster and came back with a wicked-looking barbed tail. My mono-edged right hand sliced the tail off while my left foot smashed a roundhouse kick right through its chitinous carapace.

  Jep bounded into the room and tore into another monster that leaped out of the bedroom. This one was only human-sized, and it had no chance against the enraged werewolf. I realized that till this point, Jep had been helpless against the monsters that had assaulted his daughter. But now they were coming through the passage in their true forms, something I had feared might happen but was supposedly against the Accords agreed to by Lucifer and God. It gave the giant werewolf an appropriate target for his rage. The demon was literally torn into tiny, bloody pieces in a split second.

  Every demonic monster in the sitting room was dead or dying by the time Stacia stepped through the doorway. She had activated the shotgun’s flashlight and had the gun in the ready position with the butt touching her shoulder and the barrel pointed low and forward. Damned if she didn’t look like she knew what she was doing.

  Awasos roared and plunged into the bedroom. I went hot on his heels, Jep pounding along behind me. Awasos stiffened both front legs and slammed on the brakes, sliding to a sudden stop. I piled into his furry rump, then Grim took us straight to the ceiling as giant Jep smashed into my bear in a were pileup. The big wolfman bounced off my bear, who hardly noticed, his attention intent on keeping from falling into the swirling black hole that now took up two-thirds of the room. It had spread into the walls and floor, swallowing the beds and smashed dressers completely.

  Awasos moved right, taking up most of the remaining floor space on that side of the room. Jep mirrored his action by assuming a guard point on the left. I dropped back to the floor and settled into a crossed-leg sitting position that was only a mantra shy of a meditation pose. Stacia moved up behind me, standing with her gun pointed at the center of the room.

  “Okay, here goes,” I said, settling into my spot. Ideas and knowledge unfolded in my brain; information just suddenly appearing where none had been before. Part of me was analyzing the opening with thoughts and words not my own. Concepts of gluons, quarks, and tachyons flashed across my mind as I gazed at the ragged shape of the opening. My right hand directed a thin stream of aura into the broken edge nearest me. A violet line snaked along the fractal curves and jagged outline of the portal, moving clockwise around the opening. Part of me understood that the opening had originally corkscrewed open from a pinpoint in a counter-clockwise motion; widdershins, as my Scots ancestors were prone to call it. Moving against the natural clockwise motion of the sun was considered bad luck in olden days, and my sudden profound knowledge of particle physics told me there may have been something solid behind that belief.

  The glowing violet line circled back toward me, beginning to highlight an opening that had more broken lines than the coast of Maine.

  “It will never work, Gordon. You will fail, miserably.”

  The words came from nowhere and everywhere. The others all jumped as they heard them, too.

  “Ignore them,” I said, gritting my teeth and feeding more aura into the line.

  My abilities with my aural power had grown immeasurably since meeting Tanya, but I had never extended an unbroken line of power longer than thirty feet or so. The zigs and zags of the opening made it by far the longest distance I had ever projected. The far side of the opening was only eleven feet overhead where it ate into the attic rafters, but my raggedy line of aura was already over a football field long.

  The neon purple snake was now three-quarters of the way around the opening, but I was already feeling the drain.

  “This isn’t your problem, Gordon. The Almighty has given you nothing to work with. You’re separated from the one you belong with, who cares more about her people than about you!”

  Then six swarming nightmares came through the gate at once, from almost every part of the opening.

  'Sos and Jep swung at the ridiculously fast demons with limited success. The giant werebear’s claws ripped across the back of one twisted, black-thorned carapace, wringing a horrific screech from the wounded thing. Jep missed on his first swipe but caught his target in giant jaws as it jumped like a leaping spider to get away. Black blood spurted as his razor teeth scissored together, chopping the monster in half but leaving the wolfman sputtering and spitting to get the vile blood out of his mouth.

  Stacia’s shotgun boomed three times fast. Her first shot missed, but the second and third reduced a ceiling-clinging horror to rancid paste. She swung the barrel over and killed another with a single shot that blasted it back through the gateway. A third leaped at her from behind, but my Grim-wired senses were locked on and my power flow crawled to a trickle as my left hand Pulled the demon out of mid-air, flinging it back through the portal on the heels of its buckshot-blasted companion.

  “Thanks,” she said, feeding fresh shells into her Mossberg. I just nodded and brought the stream of aura back up to its former level.

  “Look at you, Gordon. Barely begun and almost empty. You can’t do this. You haven’t the power.”

  “Fuck you. I haven’t even tapped into my fancy Star Trek dilithium crystal wonder necklace yet.”

  Stacia looked at me like I was nuts, even as 'Sos brought both paws together on another demon, crushing it like Elder Fedor several years ago. His eyes shining lava red, Awasos roared out his victory in grizzly speak for “Bring It!”

  Seeing him channel the essence of the giant spirit bear he used to be lifted my mood immeasurably. The angel-infused packet of knowledge in my head judged the moment right to tap into my reserve. My left hand grabbed the black God Tear gem around my neck and pulled power from it in a way I hadn’t know I could. It was like opening the flood gates on a dam. A torrent rushed through me, running from my left hand to my center, then out my right hand. I could feel my body virtually vibrating with energy. The flow of power tripled instantly and the line encircling the gate rushed the rest of the way around to arrive back at my hand, leaving the entire gate outlined in neon violet.

  I had finished the first step, a major achievem
ent, but I had so far to go. The mental hitchhiker in my mind outlined the next step. The line of power around the gate had a similar function to the cord in the waistband of sweatpants or a soldier’s dufflebag. I needed to draw the line taut.

  I push power with my right hand and pull it with my left, which meant I had to somehow pass the line of power from my right to my left and then grab the God Tear with my right. All without letting the line of energy around the opening slip away. I’m fast—thousandth-of-a-second fast, but quantum particles are unimpressed with that kind of speed. I couldn’t break physical contact with my drawstring of energy or it would cease, like breaking an electrical circuit.

  Obviously, I had to connect my two hands to make the switch. Ducking my head, I pulled the God Tear necklace over it, fighting it past my ears which, of course, were just big enough to get caught on the silver chain. After a struggle with my own ears, it finally came free.

  That minor battle done, I brought my left hand down to the floor to touch my right, which was still flat on the remnants of the carpet. The angel-forged silver necklace flopped forward, right over the edge of the chasm in front of me. Immediately, it went taut, like the harpoon line in the movie Jaws. My hands were yanked forward, almost coming off the floor, which would have broken contact with my neon purple drawstring. Pulling back against whatever force had taken the chain, I concentrated on passing the Tear from my left to my right hand while moving the anchor of the violet cord from right to left. The necklace yanked free of whatever had been holding it and came skittering up onto the floor.

  A scaled, taloned hand sprang up over the edge in front of me like some twisted trapdoor spider from hell, grabbing the chain. A death-bloated face followed it. Father Prescott looked even worse than the last time I’d seen him, although his face was much more animated. His eyesockets were empty, bleeding holes, but that didn’t stop him from locking his unholy gaze on my face.

  “Left me behind, Gordon. That wasn’t very Christian of you, was it? Leaving my remains to the hospitality of Hell! They didn’t even offer me dinner. But I think I’ll have a bite or two now.”

  His mouth opened so far that his lower head split back, revealing a spike-toothed maw that would swallow my whole face. Than he sprang.

  Both hands were on the floor, still shifting the Tear and the line of power. My legs were crossed in front of me, but if I could shift fast enough, I might be able to swing my left leg up and stop his attack. My foot hit his rib cage, knocking his body slightly to my right and briefly slowing his attack. He shifted back, knocking my leg aside with his scabby, scaly hand, then shoved forward, needle mouth gaping wide.

  A black gun barrel shoved forward over my shoulder and fired four fast, ear-shattering blasts of buckshot into his toothy face, each shot blowing ever-increasing amounts of his skull away. The final shot left a white, priest-collared neck stump that oozed black, tar-like blood. The shotgun barrel pushed against the scrawny chest of the possessed priest’s body, shoving it back over the edge into hell.

  “Thanks. That was close,” I told Stacia.

  “I hate it when clergy get pushy,” she said as she stuffed more shells into the Mossberg.

  Hand transfer completed, I started to pull in the violet draw cord through my left hand. Now I had a new problem. The massive power I had pumped into the outline of the portal was flooding back into me, filling me to capacity and threatening to overflow. I reversed the method I had used to draw power from the Tear, instead pumping the excess energy into the gem. It worked, the black God Tear pulsing with each surge of violet energy that I managed to stuff into it.

  The broken edge of the portal nearest my left hand straightened as the slack was pulled from the cord of power. Aural power like I had never felt flowed into me as everything I had previously drained from myself, along with the massive reserve pulled from the gem, came back to me. Like winding up a never-ending, violet glowing extension cord or hitting the retract button on one of those spring-wound doggy leashes.

  On it came, a pulsing torrent of energy. At first, the gate remained the same, but after a full two minutes, the edges of the portal grew noticeably closer to each other. The fractal line continued to straighten out and pull smooth. After five minutes, it was back to the dimensions of the back wall of the room, as it had been the night before, when I had first seen it. A minute after that, it was a roughly circular opening of roughly eight feet or so.

  Jep started throwing demonic body parts back through the closing hole and after a second, Awasos joined in. When the final length of purple cord zipped into my hand and the hell portal pinged shut, most of the foul remains were gone. The giant wolf man was left holding an oversized black crab claw, which he tossed down on the blackened floor.

  The walls, ceiling, and floor were back and solid, although the carpet hadn’t returned. It ended in a clean cut where the opening had been when the portal was at its largest.

  I slumped down where I sat, completely drained of strength, yet humming with aura power. The God Tear was noticeably larger than before, maybe 20 percent larger than it had been.

  Awasos and Jep looked at me, both faces asking the same unspoken question.

  “It’s done. We closed it,” I told them. It was a true statement. My senses couldn’t detect anything other than wood, lathe, plaster, and, of course, pools of demon blood that were starting to sputter and steam.

  Chapter 14

  We were battered and torn, but no one had any life-threatening injuries. The cuts and scrapes we did have were already healing. After pronouncing the Portal closed and the room safe, we all trooped back downstairs. Jep immediately retreated to his boss’s room, where he had left his clothes.

  Stacia found a rag and wiped down the shotgun, cleaning the demon blood off the exterior.

  “You missed a few spots,” I commented.

  Frowning, she turned the gun this way and that but couldn’t see any more ichor and slime. I pointed at her face, specifically her cheek, so she glanced in a mirror that hung in the hallway.

  “Eeww! Demon crud!” she said, finding other bits and spots of shattered and spattered hellspawn.

  “Got any clothes in the car? I’m sure you could take a shower,” I said.

  “You need one, too,” she said, shotgun braced on one cocked hip. Then she grinned. “We could take one together and use less water. Save the planet and all that!”

  I frowned at her, and she started to laugh. “Kidding! I couldn’t resist. Damn, you’re easy to tease,” she said with an arched right eyebrow. Then she turned and headed downstairs to the car, where I suspected she had a spare outfit or six.

  “I can find some clothes for you, sir, if you want to clean up,” Jep rumbled from the doorway to Granger’s room. He was dressed, back in human form, and his wet hair indicated that he had taken the time to shower as well.

  “I suppose it would be best,” I said. “And, it’s Chris, not sir.”

  “Yes sir, Chris. I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” he said, his mouth twitching in what might have been a grin. I think I understood. Jep didn’t sir people lightly, but I had managed to earn his respect.

  Stacia came bounding back up the stairs, still carrying the Mossberg but holding a pink dufflebag in her other hand. Jep pointed her at a guest bedroom and attached bathroom combination into which she disappeared with one last arched look in my direction. The sound of a shower came moments later.

  “Excuse me for asking sir, but are you and her…” Jep asked, clearing his throat first.

  “No, Jep, we’re not. I left my mate in New York City,” I replied.

  He nodded his big head knowingly. “She’d be the vampire,” he said.

  I looked at him, surprised, and he shrugged.

  “You smell of vampires… and weres. But it’s obvious that the young wolf girl is pretty much smitten with you,” he noted, his voice pitched very quiet.

  I was surprised on a few levels. One, that he could still smell Tanya’s scent on me a week af
ter leaving, with multiple showers and changes of clothes. Second, that he was much more observant that his appearance warranted. It’s easy to think of big guys as dumb. The third thing that surprised me was his use of the word smitten. Who the hell uses that word anymore?

  “I’m on the outs with my girl’s Coven, so getting out of the City seemed like a healthy idea. Our local Pack thought I could help you guys and accomplish two things at once.”

  “Vampire politics suck, pardon the pun, sir,” he said. “Pack issues are so much simpler, by comparison.”

  “Speaking of Pack politics, you have some visitors tonight?” I asked, anxious to change the topic away from my vampire troubles.

  “Yes, I need to call Ned and tell him it’s all clear. It is all clear, right, sir?” he asked.

  “Yeah, the house is still creepy, but the demonic part is completely gone,” I replied, touching one wall and feeling the essence of the house. The shower sounds stopped in the other room. It had to be a record for female shower times.