by Tegan Maher
He took a deep breath and released it, regret scrawled across his features. “That’s a damned shame,” he said. “Bernie was a good guy.”
I took a sip of my beer, thinking. Demons weren’t just men. They came in all shapes, sizes, and genders. Some didn’t identify with either gender, they’d been locked up for so long. They were just evil, and this time, somebody was dead because of something my mother had done. I pushed back that feeling of guilt that was punching at me way more than I was comfortable with. It wasn’t mine to bear.
Sunlight burst into the place as the door swung open. A large body and a dog silhouette filled the space, but I couldn’t see a face.
“Michael!” Shane boomed, a wide grin splitting his face. “Good to see you, man. Your regular?”
The man was tall and in good shape, probably mid-thirties if he aged like humans did, and had dark stubble on his cheeks. What I’d mistaken for a dog was actually a large gray wolf.
Shane turned to us and the cook rang a bell and shoved two plates of cheeseburgers into the window between the bar and kitchen.
“This guy is the man to talk to if you need to know anything about the underbelly of this city,” Shane said as he slid our plates and a stack of napkins in front of us then pulled a caddy with ketchup and mustard from under the bar.
“Michael,” he said to the approaching man as he poured a beer, “this is Callum and Kira.”
The man slid onto a stool a couple down from mine, and the wolf assumed a position similar to Lonan’s—covering the man’s back.
“Nice to meet ya,” he said, then took a big sip of the beer Shane handed him.
“Likewise,” Callum said.
“Yeah, same,” I replied, swallowing my first bite of burger. “So we need to know if you’ve heard of anything strange going on in the city.”
His full lips turned up into a wry smile. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that. This entire city is strange, depending on your views.”
“Strange as in something’s going around scaring folks to death,” I said, a little irritated. “Is that something that would qualify as odd in your book?”
“I suppose it would,” he allowed, taking another drink of his beer. “But why do you want to know about it?”
I didn’t particularly want to just blurt out that I was an angel and that it was a demon I was hunting. I didn’t have much experience with non-celestial beings, but it seemed to me that would be information that would freak somebody out and possibly put me in a bad spot. Angels weren’t universally liked, mostly because a lot of them had a sense of entitlement that was even bigger than their arrogance.
“I don’t particularly care to share that with you,” I said. “But we need whatever information you have. It’s critical and time-sensitive.”
He glanced at me with brows raised. “Then I don’t particularly care to share any information I may or may not have.”
“Listen,” I began, my temperature rising, but Lonan cut me off by hopping off my shoulder and onto the back of the stool beside the man. The wolf growled, but my raven exchanged a long look with him and he stopped.
“Are you Michael Maganti?” Lonan asked.
The man narrowed his eyes. “Who wants to know?”
“Emissaries of Adam Laurant,” Lonan replied.
The man appraised him for a few seconds. “And who, exactly, are these emissaries?”
Lonan hopped close and spoke in a tone so low that I couldn’t hear what he said. The man listened, then turned that appraising gaze on us. Me, particularly.
“That changes things,” he said. “You should have led with that.”
I made it a point to question Lonan about these “emissaries” as soon as we were alone.
He scooted down so that he was sitting beside me, and Lonan perched on the back of my stool, still facing the rest of the bar.
“You think it’s a fear demon?” he asked, point-blank.
“No,” I replied, a little miffed that I hadn’t heard whatever Lonan had told him to make him change his mind. “I know it’s a fear demon. It’s what I do.”
“Ah, yeah. You’re the keeper I heard about, then. It was your mother who opened the gate?”
Though there was no recrimination in his tone, my face still went hot. “It was.”
He paused. “Let’s start over. I’m Michael Maganti, an agent for the Paranormal Criminal Investigations Bureau. I’ve been working these cases, and can tell you that I may have pinpointed something they have in common. Well, I’ve definitely pinpointed it; I just don’t know if has anything to do with why they were killed or not.”
Callum leaned in so that he could see the guy around me. “At this point, we’ll take whatever lead you can give us because we just got here. We have zilch so far.”
Michael inclined his head. “Let’s all get a solid meal in us, and I’ll take you to where both murders happened, then to the one place that they’d both been the day they died.”
That sounded fair to me. We desperately needed the help, but the cheeseburger in front of me was too good to waste.
“Deal,” I said, liking Michael Maganti in spite of myself.
7
“So how did you end up on this mission?” Michael asked us as we were leaving the pub.
“It’s a long story,” I said, squinting at the bright sunshine. “What matters is that we are, and we need to complete it as quickly as possible.”
“Obviously,” Michael said, brow raised. Now that we were outside, I could see that his dark hair had red highlights that made it more auburn than brown. “Stray souls are rarely good. Stray souls who escaped from the valley are a nightmare waiting to happen.”
I cringed, thinking of the two people who were already dead. Guilt traced its slimy finger down my spine, and I tried to shake it off. It wasn’t my fault they were dead; it was my mom’s. She’s the one who’d left the gate unlocked.
“Have you heard of anything else strange going on around here?” Callum asked as we crossed the street and ducked behind some street vendors to access the sidewalk that ran in front of the shops. Everything was decorated for Halloween, and I thought the black-and-orange twinkle lights strung along the vendors’ booths cave the whole place a festive feel even though everything looked a bit run-down.
Michael gave us a wry smile. “This is Abaddon’s Gate. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Okay,” I replied, a little irritated because I was pretty sure he was being intentionally obtuse. “Have any of the relatively normal people in this weird little city suddenly gone off their rockers? Started stealing things, gambling, heckling people? Maybe they’ve lost time or woken up somewhere different than where they went to sleep.”
“Or,” Callum added, “it doesn’t necessarily have to be a case of possession. Maybe there’ve been increased incidents of anger, lust, jealousy, self-doubt. Certain demons can make people feel all sorts of emotions.”
“Wow,” Michael said, stepping into an alley that ran between an Italian restaurant and charms shop. “You guys really did lose some doozies, didn’t you? How many are we dealing with?”
I didn’t want to admit we had no clue how many souls had gone missing. “Too many,” I replied instead, keeping my eyes directly ahead. “What are we doing here?”
We’d stopped halfway down the alley. I looked down just in time to avoid stepping in a puddle of filthy water topped with an oily rainbow. I wrinkled my nose at the cloud of funk hovering around the dumpster several yards away.
“This is where Bernie Moore was found. Slouched right there.” He pointed to the wall as if we could pick out the guy’s impression in the bricks or something.
I looked around, trying to pinpoint anything special about this place. A steel fire escape ran up the wall opposite where the guy’d been found. Nothing looked weird or out of place.
“There aren’t even any windows,” I noted.
“That could be one of the reasons h
e brought him here,” Callum replied. “No chance of getting caught.”
I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe. Demons are often creatures of opportunity. But I wonder what drew him to this guy?”
“No clue,” Michael replied. “I just know where they found him. It’s not my case, so I haven’t done any digging.”
I hadn’t thought about local law enforcement. I hoped they wouldn’t cause a problem. Callum must have been thinking the same thing.
“Whose case it is, then?” he asked, and this time it was Michael who shrugged.
“Nobody’s. They said they’d called in outside specialists.” He glanced between us. “I assume that’s you two.”
I took a couple minutes to wander the scene, but I didn’t find anything. “I don’t know if I’d call us specialists or not, but we definitely know more about demons and lost souls than most.
“Yeah, your family have been the keepers for almost forever, right?” Michael asked, and I nodded.
“What about you, then, Callum?” he asked, turning to him as he brushed his hands off. “How did a mage end up tied up in all this?”
“Kira needed assistance. They assigned me because I have the skills necessary to help her.” I could tell he was getting irritated at the grilling.
I noticed he didn’t look at Michael either, and I thought back to the exchange he had with Shane. The bartender has said something about not having seen him since something had gone down, but Callum had cut him off before he could say what. I cast a sideways glance at him as we stepped out of the alley and hung a right to continue in the direction we’d been going before the detour. Not that I was one to judge, but I did feel like I was the only one of the two of us with no real secrets. Considering I might have to place my life in his hands at some point, I didn’t like it.
“What do you think, Kira?” Callum asked, snapping me back to the conversation.
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked. I’d lost track of what they were saying.
He looked at me funny but repeated himself. “I was telling Michael that with it being Halloween, maybe we should focus on places that are going for the scare factor. Those would be likely sources of easy fuel for our guy.”
“For sure,” I said. “But also places like dentist’s offices.” I cringed. As an angel, I didn’t have to worry about things like cavities, but I’d seen enough movies to know that had to be a terrifying place. I had a stomach of steel and loved horror movies, but when dentists or dental torture was involved, I always had to look away.
Michael cringed, so apparently, I wasn’t far off track. “Yeah, my little sister puts off having hers cleaned because she has a phobia. She had a bad experience when she was a kid, and our cousin Mila has to make her a tonic before she goes.”
His lips curved up into a warm smile. “The first time Mila made the blend, she messed up something in the recipe and we had to reschedule Destiny’s appointment and take her home. She was so toasty that she kept giggling and turning the goldfish different colors to amuse herself while we waited. Which would have been fine, but it was at a human dentist's office.”
“Ohhh,” I replied, smiling at the thought. I may not have ever been to a dentist, but I had experimented with an herb blend or two when I’d been in school during my most rebellious years. “Yeah, I can’t imagine that went over well.”
“Actually,” he replied, his warm brown eyes twinkling with humor for the first time since I’d met him, “the kids loved it. It was the parents who got a little bent out of shape.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand how their minds work. How can they look at the world around them and not believe in magic?”
That one had always stumped me, too. Even though I’d had limited interactions with non-magical humans, the ones I had met had all seemed normal and relatively smart. It was a head-scratcher for sure.
Callum shuddered. “I agree about the dentist. I broke one of my canines when I was training and had to have it repaired. It was a horrible experience even with the benefit of a healer’s magic. You’re right. We should check dentist’s offices.”
“Well, then,” Michael said, turning right at a small intersection, “you’re in luck because there happens to be a dentist’s office two doors down from where we found the second body. Her name, by the way, was Mary Kate Evans, and she was a witch.”
“She didn’t look very old,” I said, thinking of her picture and trying to look past the expression of horror.
“She wasn’t,” Michael replied. “Though as an angel, you surely understand that looks don’t necessarily correlate with age.”
“Of course I do,” I snapped. “I’m not exactly as young as I look, either, at least by human standards.”
He held up a placating hand. “Okay, I didn’t want to assume. You said you hadn’t spent much time around humans, so I wanted to make sure.”
I stepped around another dirty puddle and scowled. The city was both beautiful and a little gross at the same time. The streets were cobblestone, and most of the storefronts had colorful awnings and artful yet funky Halloween displays in their picture windows. Street vendors lined the streets in front of the shops, hawking everything from charms to jewelry. I also suspected less-than-legal paraphernalia for dark magic could be had if you knew the right questions to ask.
Human vehicles weren’t a thing in Abaddon’s Gate because most people either teleported in and out using their own magic or used a system of portals located in most major cities around the world. As a result of that and the many different magical species, the city was a hodge-podge of ancient and modern people and designs. And of course, magic was everywhere on full display because humans couldn’t access the city.
Though it was liberating, that also made it a perfect place for nefarious creatures to deal in dark magic. Seemingly innocent items could be charmed to trace the buyer, setting them up for a mugging later. And that was one of the shallower pits an unsuspecting person could fall into.
It was only a couple of minutes before Michael pointed to a building. “There’s the dentist I was talking about.”
The mirrored picture window had a cheery cartoon of two happy teeth smiling. One of them was holding a toothbrush and the other was holding floss. Harold P. Farmer, DMD was written in plain white script above, and they’d placed their phone number below. Simple yet effective.
A woman that I took to be a witch rushed by us hauling a pre-teen boy behind. “Come on, Drake. Your appointment is in five minutes.”
The boy looked like he was about to cry, and when she pulled the door open, a rush of cool air blew out, sending chill bumps down my arms; the coldness wasn’t all due to the temperature. I scanned the air for any form of demon magic but came up empty. I could read people, but I didn’t need an extra ability to know the place was probably full of it no matter how kind and gentle he was.
“We found her right down here,” Michael said, leading us down another alley. It was nearly identical to the one where they’d found Bernie Moore: one fire escape, no windows.
“What else is around here?” Callum asked. “You said they’d both been at the same place the day they died. Where was that?”
“A bookstore on Main Street,” he replied. “About three blocks from here.”
“Take us there, please,” I said after I’d inspected the area. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything here that y’all missed, so there’s no need to waste more time.”
“Should we talk to the people inside the dentist's office?” Callum asked. “I think it’s a possibility.”
I tilted my head at him. “You’re awfully focused on the dentist. Any particular reason?”
He rubbed his jaw, though I didn’t think he realized he did it. “No. Just following every lead.”
“I hardly think a person who gives people beautiful smiles is a suspect in two gruesome murders,” I said. “Nor do I think it’s an evil enough place for a fear demon.”
Michael raised a brow. “That’s because you
’ve never had to go to a dentist. A lot of people are scared whether there’s a reason to be or not. Just the sounds and the smells.” He shuddered. “If you’ve ever had a cavity fixed, the sound of the drill alone is enough to make you want to hide under the chair. Plus, evil lurks anywhere there’s a chance to inflict pain; you should know that.”
I cast him a doubtful glance. “You hardly seem the type to be traumatized that easily.”
The two guys exchanged a glance before Michael nodded. “We should definitely check the place out.”
“Fine,” I huffed, pulling open the door. “But I’m amazed that two grown-ass men are scared by something so silly.”
When I walked in, however, the cheery atmosphere and soft music playing were in direct opposition to the feelings in the place. At least half the people there were scared even though most of them were doing an excellent job of pretending not to be. A high-pitched whirring sound came from somewhere in the back of the office and it seemed like the entire room, including the two cowardly lions I was with, cringed.
“Lemme guess,” I said, sighing. “That’s the drill.”
They nodded and both of them looked a little green. I just shook my head and approached the reception desk. A middle-aged brunette lady with an asymmetrical bob glanced up at me, snapping her gum as she did. I rolled my eyes; to me, that was more disturbing than the sound of the drill.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a nasally voice, giving me a semi-judgy once-over. I had to admit, though, that I wasn’t exactly dressed for an appointment with a professional. The knee-high black leather boots, cutlasses, and dagger killed that look.
Now that I was standing in front of her, I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t exactly just up and ask her if she’d seen a fear demon. I mean, technically I could, since we were in a magical community, but a question like that didn’t exactly inspire calm, cool, rational behavior which seemed to be in low supply in the small room already. Plus, she might be it. Her gaze was getting a little impatient.
“Hi,” I said, smiling with what I hoped was innocent charm. One of the benefits of having giant baby blues and a pixie-ish face is that it was an easy look for me. As a matter of fact, I’d used it to get out of a lot of scrapes. I also pushed a little goodwill her direction and hoped she was susceptible to magic. “My dad, Bernie Moore, was in the other day and he forgot his favorite sweater. I told him I’d stop and pick it up.”
