Damnation Marked (The Descent Series)

by Reine, SM

  “How did you end up in charge of this?” James asked. “More importantly, how did you establish everything here without attracting notice?”

  Malcolm grinned, stretching his scarred cheek below the eye patch. “Who says nobody noticed? We have a few government friends. The real trick was avoiding Elise’s notice, and she’s been too focused on chasing after demon-kings to see us.”

  “You’ve been watching her.”

  “We put some surveillance in the city. Ah, here we go.”

  The mess hall was an open cafeteria on the topmost level of the warehouse. It was unoccupied at the moment, but a fully stocked snack bar with fresh produce and protein bars stood against one wall.

  Malcolm snagged an apple and took a loud bite of it. “Sure you don’t want anything?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Why don’t we have a talk back in my office?” He blew through the cafeteria, another armory—how many of those did they need?—and entered a long hallway filled with numbered doors. “This is where the men stay,” he explained, leading James down the hall. “It’s much nicer than military barracks. See?”

  Malcolm rapped his knuckle on a door and pushed it open. On the other side stood a small studio apartment, complete with kitchenette and private bathroom. There was a poster of a woman in a skimpy yellow bikini on the wall, a flat screen television, and a comfortable bed.

  A shirtless man paused in the middle of performing pushups without getting up. Sweat glistened on his shoulders and dripped down his back.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, craning his head back to glare at Malcolm.

  The commander bit off a large chunk of apple, chewed, and swallowed before answering. “Just giving the tour, Gary.”

  Gary dropped the pushup position, got to his feet, and toweled off his impressively broad chest. Every inch of his torso was covered in a mat of wiry hair. He held out a hand. “Name’s Gary Zettel. Are you a new recruit?”

  “I don’t think so,” James said, but he shook his hand anyway. The skin-on-skin contact rang bells in his skull. A kopis.

  “This is James Faulkner,” Malcolm said, carefully enunciating the name.

  It apparently meant something to Gary, because his brow lowered over his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “How do you like working with the Union?” James asked.

  Gary snorted. “It’s better than the alternative. Can I resume training… sir?”

  Malcolm held up his hands as he backed out of the room. “Of course, of course. Don’t let me bother you. Jimmy?”

  The commander’s room was at the end of the barracks, and was laid out like a two bedroom apartment rather than a studio. A large window in the living room opened into the rest of the warehouse.

  “You never told me how you ended up in charge of all this,” James said.

  “It was a recent assignment. I enlisted a couple years ago, when I needed some medical care,” Malcolm said, flopping onto his leather couch and kicking his feet up on the arm. He waved at his eye patch. “They were going to take Ireland either way. Might as well side with the men who have money, eh?”

  “I suppose.”

  “They sent me to a training facility in Italy, where HQ is located. Nice place. I did that for a few months, and then they gave me an aspis.”

  “They gave you an aspis?”

  “Sure. Bloke named Bellamy. Nice guy. Not as good at magic as you are, but what can you do?” Malcolm finished his apple and chucked the core at the trashcan across the room. It missed. “I know what you’re thinking, but it’s a good match.”

  James couldn’t resist. “You can’t assign aspides.”

  “You can, and the Union does. All that superstition about a kopis and aspis having to be ‘best friends for life’ is a load of crock. All it takes is two people who can tolerate each other. I wouldn’t invite him over for Sunday dinner, but Bellamy’s a hell of a drinking partner.”

  “Forgive me if I’m skeptical.”

  “Think whatever you want. Bellamy and I have done well enough that the Union promoted us to a command position last year. And when the last bloke in charge of this unit fucked up the semi-centennial summit, they demoted him and gave this mission to me. So here we are now.” He swept his arms wide. “I have a bloody army. Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

  James peered through the window. Men were running drills in the halls with dummy guns. “And what, exactly, is the purpose of this army?”

  “I’m going to give it to you straight, Jimmy.”

  “Dear God, stop calling me that.”

  Malcolm’s grin said he knew exactly how irritating the nickname was. “The Union’s not doing well in the United States. Recruitment has gone much better elsewhere, but things keep getting in the way here. American demons are much more likely to have immigrated recently, much tougher. And they have those fiery, independent personalities. Liberty and justice. ‘All for one,’ you know. Or something to that effect.”

  “Is this an attempt at recruitment, then?” James asked, gesturing between them. “Because if this is, then for the record, you’re not the person I would have sent to do it.”

  “No, this is definitely not ‘an attempt at recruitment.’” He spoke very firmly. “Frankly, the Union doesn’t want anything to do with Elise—and that includes her aspis. Which is why we’re sitting down to have a nice chat in my warehouse. As much as we want to improve our numbers, we also want the same thing that you want, Jim.”

  Jim. If Malcolm wanted a good punch to the face, he was heading in the right direction for it. “You have no clue what I want.”

  “No? Let me take a guess.” He kicked his legs over the side of the couch and stood, pacing across the room. He ticked each point off on his fingers. “You want nothing to do with hunting. No more demons, certainly no more angels, and no more peril.” Malcolm glanced over his shoulder. “And you want Elise out of it, too.”

  James kept his features composed.

  In fact, that was what he wanted. He and Elise had once shared a dream of peaceful normalcy, and for five years, they had succeeded. Those five years of retirement had been bliss. They had worked hard. Built businesses from the ground up. Made friends, found significant others.

  But when Death’s Hand had attacked in the spring, Elise had fallen into the business of demon hunting again. It was only supposed to be for that one job. Just one exorcism to save a child in his coven.

  Things had spiraled out of control. James was back to retirement… mostly. But Elise had dived back in headfirst.

  He realized that he had been lost in thought for several long seconds, and that Malcolm was watching him.

  “The Union can’t give us that,” he finally said.

  The kopis studied his fingernails. “We can’t, eh? Safety? Security? Freedom from the Reno territory and what lies below?”

  “How do you propose doing that?”

  “Leave,” Malcolm said simply. “The two of you can get out of here while you still have four eyeballs between you and live a happy, mundane life together.”

  James laughed. “We can’t just leave.”

  “There are other places safer than this one.” He leaned forward, and his smile was completely gone. “We’ve found a Haven.”

  “A Haven? Impossible.”

  “The Union has been to places you can’t begin to dream of, Jim,” Malcolm said. His gaze went distant. “Places beyond Earth. Places beyond hellfire, places beyond even magic.” He sighed. “Can you imagine a place with no gods or demons or witches? A place where people die, and they stay dead?”

  “No,” James said. “I can’t.”

  “Your imagination is terrible, Jimmy-boy.”

  “You traveled with us for a few months. You know why that is.”

  “Indeed I do,” Malcolm said. “But trust me—Havens exist, and we’ve found one of them.”

  If it was true, it was a tempting offer. Very tempting. James raked a hand through his hair.

/>   “Even if that were possible, Elise would never leave. Not with what’s in the Warrens.”

  “But we have the manpower to protect the city. We have the technology—you’ve seen it yourself. We’ve refined our techniques. So long as you two are safely tucked away in the Haven—far from the all-seeing eye of your most terrible enemies—you can rest assured that nothing and no one will cross through those gates to find you.”

  James wasn’t sure what to say. He searched for words, and found none. His fingertips felt numb.

  Malcolm studied James’s face, and it might have been the only time in his life that he was sober and serious at the same time. “I brought you here so you could see what I have. I hope you realize how much we’ve invested in preparing to secure the area.”

  “And what’s the price of our safety?”

  “The Union wants the territory. That’s the cost. All you have to do is take Elise and get out of the way.”

  It sounded too good to be true. And if there was anything James had learned in his years fighting demons, it was that anything that sounded too good to be true usually was.

  The kopis didn’t wait for a response. He glanced through his window at the floor below and huffed.

  “Hang on a minute.”

  Malcolm headed out of the room and took the stairs to the warehouse floor three at a time. He limped when he moved quickly.

  James knew his sudden exit wasn’t a coincidence. The commander had left him alone to think, surrounded by the grandeur of the Union’s finest technology. He was meant to watch as Malcolm directed a forklift carrying a crate to the storage area. He was meant to notice the camera mounted in the corner, and the computer built into the desk.

  He was meant to see the glory of the Union and think about what it could offer him.

  Leave with Elise?

  God, what a thought.

  He wasn’t prepared to address an idea that significant. Not on the spur of the moment. Instead, he wandered through Malcolm’s quarters and studied his belongings.

  It was a true bachelor pad. He had a gun safe, but it was unlocked, and his rifles were propped against the walls like umbrellas. He opened the mini-fridge, expecting to find beer, and was not disappointed. Malcolm’s laundry was piled on the counter beside a flat-screen monitor that displayed the weather report, the temperature, and a scrolling ticker of Union news.

  None of that was as surprising as the bookshelf next to Malcolm’s desk. The kopis wasn’t much of a reader. Frankly, James wasn’t sure the man was even literate. Yet his shelves were full.

  The books were comprised of a matching set of small encyclopedias. He eased a volume off of the bookshelf. It was a slender book, barely thicker than his thumb, and the title on the cover said, “Prophecies of Flynn, Q1 2009.”

  James flipped through the pages. The pages were so thin as to be see-through, the text inside was miniscule, and every line was numbered, similar to a Bible.

  The table of contents in the front was about a hundred lines long. There were very specific titles like, “Semi-Centennial Summit,” “Vancouver, Canada,” and “The Afterlife Incident.” But there were also vague entries that only had dates or, more ambiguously, were simply titled, “Unknown.”

  James returned it to the shelf and removed the most recent book, which was labeled “Prophecies of Flynn, Summary of Apocalypse.” He glanced at the door before opening the cover.

  The first line of the Table of Contents said, “Revelations: An Introduction.” When he read the second line, his heart skipped a beat. All it said was, “Elise Kavanagh, Entry 1.”

  She had twelve entries in a row. And below that, there was an entry that said, “Aspis.”

  He didn’t get a chance to read any further. Footsteps approached on the stairs outside, and James jammed the book in his back pocket.

  An instant later, Malcolm reentered. “Sorry about that. Listen, Jim, there’s lots of work to be done. I’m going to have to have someone take you home. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.” He sounded surprisingly calm, considering how fast his heart was beating.

  “Fantastic.” He stepped aside to let James into the hall. “You don’t have to make any decisions yet. Promise to give it a good think?”

  “I think I can manage that,” James said.

  IV

  Elise waited until night had fallen and most of the police had cleared out before returning to Rick’s Drugstore. They had cordoned off the entire block, surrounding the shop with yellow warning tape and police cars, so she had to approach from the roof.

  She had spent most of the day watching the police work the scene. Or at least, she had watched the police pretend to work the scene. In fact, she hadn’t seen a single officer approach the gaping chasm that used to be Rick’s Drugstore.

  That had to mean one of two things: they really were worried about structural integrity, or someone with authority had told them to stay out.

  She wondered if the influence was federal. There were unmarked black vehicles among the police cars, as well as bulky pickup trucks with camper shells and tinted windows. Yet nobody moved to investigate the collapsed tunnel. It made her curious. Very curious.

  Several hours and three half-smoked cigarettes later, her boyfriend joined her on the roof of the parking garage, carrying thick ropes over his shoulder.

  “I’ve got everything you asked for.” Anthony dropped the equipment on the roof. At her instruction, he had worn a thick jacket and leather gloves.

  Elise ground the last cigarette into the cement before sifting through the pile. In addition to ropes, there were a couple of waist harnesses and other rock climbing equipment.

  “Perfect. Time to go spelunking.”

  She threw everything over her shoulder and approached the edge. Elise stayed close to the building, but the police were all outside of the yellow tape. Nobody was close enough to see her anyway.

  “So what’s the situation?” Anthony asked.

  Elise swapped out her weightlifting gloves for a thicker pair that were made of leather. “That hole opens straight into the Warrens.” She tied one end of the rope around an air conditioner cage and secured it with a karabiner.

  “You mean, the mines where the demons live? Isn’t that about a mile down?”

  “Yes.” She wiggled into the hip harness. “Flashlight?”

  He tossed one to her. “What made it collapse?”

  “That’s what I’m hoping to find out.” She hooked up her Grigri and backed up to the edge of the roof. “You coming?”

  She jumped off the edge before he could answer.

  Elise let herself drop rapidly in order to keep from being spotted. The roof rose over her head, followed by the shattered remnants of a linoleum floor, and then the wooden boards that had supported the basement.

  Darkness swallowed her.

  She tightened the Grigri to slow her descent. The glow from the street was already no bigger than a pin.

  By the time she stopped her downward motion, she couldn’t see anything at all. It was like having velvet draped over her eyes.

  Elise turned on her flashlight and gripped it in her teeth. She was spinning slowly in a long stone shaft. One wall was close enough for her to make it out in the LED glow. The rocks looked chiseled, as though by teeth.

  Rick’s hadn’t just collapsed. Something had tunneled through the earth.

  “Anthony?” she called. Her voice was muffled and didn’t echo.

  No reply.

  She loosened her grip on the Grigri and began sliding again.

  Elise spiraled lower and lower. After a few minutes, a level surface appeared beneath her feet, and she set down on crumbling rock. She was surrounded by debris—some of it linoleum, some of it wood, but most of it stone.

  It was late autumn and cool enough for a jacket at street level; deep underground, it was as warm as a Louisiana summer. It was hard to breathe in the heat. She shucked her coat and tied it around her waist. The wound Zohak had left
on her bicep stung in the open air.

  A whirring noise told her that Anthony was approaching a few seconds before his light appeared. It hung around his neck, illuminating his jaw from underneath.

  He landed. “Are these the Warrens?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Elise unhooked herself from the ropes and stepped away. They were in a vast cavern. Her light didn’t hit any walls. “We must be pretty deep,” Anthony said, still clutching his ropes.

  The back of Elise’s skull tickled, and she scratched her neck. “Hello?” Her call fell flat in the cavern.

  Shock jolted through her when a voice responded. “Oh, thank the fires. I thought someone would never come.”

  A girl emerged from the shadows. She was stringy and thin, like a teenager, but her sallow skin belonged to someone much older. Her hooked nose matched her pointed chin, and her eyes were black puddles.

  Elise drew her sword. “Who are you?”

  The girl held up both of her hands in the universal gesture of please don’t kill me.

  “My name is Jerica.” Despite her cautious gesture, she didn’t seem impressed by the sword. Piercings sparkled on her nostril and in two places on her bottom lip. “I worked for Rick?”

  “How did you get down here?”

  She lowered her hands. “I phased.” At Anthony’s blank expression, she elaborated. “You know… the thing where we pop between shadows. What are you guys? Cops don’t carry swords.”

  Elise sheathed the falchion. “It’s not safe down here.”

  “You’re telling me. I can’t phase out again.”

  “Why not?” Anthony asked.

  “I don’t know. I feel sick as a sunny day—like there’s no shadows to phase into. But…” Jerica glanced around at the looming shadows and shrugged.

  A chill rolled down Elise’s spine. She lifted her flashlight over her head and spun again, trying to catch a glimpse of the cavern walls she knew had to surround them. But the darkness only grew heavier the harder she tried to see through it.