Devil's Due

by Percival Constantine

  “You are the chosen ones. The sacred vessels of our Lord.”

  The way he spoke…it was as if Dakota and the others all fell under his spell. And then there was that one night, when he had come to them. She had been frightened. He said nothing to put her at ease. No tender words passed his lips. No soothing touch fell upon her skin. He wouldn’t even look at her—as if she were beneath him.

  She didn’t remember the act. She only remembered waking up a week later. Though she’d slept all that time, her body was more lethargic than ever. There was also something else. Dakota didn’t know what was different; all she knew was that something was different.

  And when the Minister came to her again, Dakota could see through his words. She could see him for what he really was—the puppet of some greater power that wanted only to use Dakota and the others for its own twisted purposes.

  There was a part of Dakota that wanted to tell all this to Robert. Maybe he’d understand. Maybe he’d be able to take her somewhere she could get help.

  “Dakota? You okay?”

  Robert’s words snapped her from her thoughts. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

  “Well, you don’t have anything to worry about now.” Robert reached out a hand and rested it on her knee. He gently patted it a few times. “You’re nice and safe and warm in here with me.”

  Dakota looked down and saw Robert’s hand still on her leg. He was now rubbing it rhythmically along her thigh. She turned her gaze to his face and saw he had a smile on his face. The car was slowing down, too.

  Robert pulled over to the side of the road and shifted the SUV into park. He turned and faced her, keeping his hand on her thigh.

  “I think we should keep driving…” said Dakota, looking out the windshield.

  Robert made no sound, just moved closer to her. His hand slid further up her leg, now moving to her inner thigh. “It’s okay. After all, I picked you up. Don’t you think you should be grateful?”

  He moved in closer, his head so close that she could feel his hot breath on her neck. Dakota’s heartbeat increased. Every instinct in her body told her to run. To do something. She could barely concentrate. There was something building in her. Something that—

  “Argh!”

  Robert pulled away from her, his hands clasped over his eyes as he screamed in agony. Dakota backed as far as she could against the door, watching him in horror. His cries never abated for a second and she could smell something burning, notice smoke rising from between his fingers.

  And then, he passed out. Or died. Dakota wasn’t sure which. She just stared at him from her spot.

  “Robert…?”

  No response.

  Leave him.

  Dakota heard a voice inside her. She wasn’t sure if she should trust it or not, but she knew she couldn’t risk staying here with Robert. And she didn’t want to continue wandering across the road in the middle of the cold night, barefoot with nothing but a simple white dress on.

  She made her decision. Dakota opened the passenger door. She circled around the front of the car and opened the driver-side door.

  Robert was bigger than her, so she thought he’d be heavier to move. But on the contrary, he felt almost weightless as she pulled his limp body from the driver’s seat. She dropped him on the side of the road and climbed behind the wheel.

  Dakota gave Robert one last look, then closed the door. Shifting the SUV into drive, she pulled back onto the road. In the center of the dashboard was a GPS navigation system. She turned it on and started typing in her destination.

  C-H-I-C-A-G-O

  3

  Reggie awoke suddenly, springing up in a start. A sober person waking up with a large, white circle drawn around them and a sigil on the floor beneath them, surrounded with candles, would no doubt be pretty freaked.

  Imagine what it’d do to someone high as a kite.

  “Stay right where you are, Reggie,” I told him as I set the last candle around the circle.

  “What is this?” asked Reggie, then he looked at me. “Who are you?”

  “Consider this a detox procedure. And I’m the doctor.”

  I took off my trench coat and suit jacket, draping them on a chair. I’d taken Reggie to a safe house of sorts—a large storage area I rented on the South Side. Sometimes, magic requires the space to work a spell, and driving back to my place on the Gold Coast wasn’t always the most convenient option. So, I’d rented a bunch of storage areas like this in different parts of the city where I kept some magical items on hand.

  Besides, I’d never let someone like Reggie into my apartment. It would take me weeks to get the stench out.

  I rolled up my sleeves and clapped my hands, rubbing them together. “Okay, let’s get started on this.”

  I stepped to the edge of the circle and held my arms out, palms facing down, my eyes closed. When I opened them, I turned my hands as well, slowly raising my arms.

  “Ignis.”

  The candles all lit simultaneously. After a few moments of burning, the scent of sage filled the air. I bent down on one knee, muttering quietly in Latin while keeping my glowing, crimson eyes fixed on Reggie. The boy looked like he was liable to shit his pants.

  “With air, I cleanse thee,” I said.

  A bowl rested by the edge of the circle. I took it in both hands and slowly stood, stepping inside the circle.

  “Wh-what is that? What’re you doin’?” asked Reggie, trying to move away.

  I set the bowl down, the water inside it moving from side to side. Reaching into my pocket, I removed a small pouch and opened it, pouring some of its contents into my cupped hand. Sea salt. I rubbed it between both hands and then grabbed Reggie’s head. He screamed as I rubbed the salt into his face, but I held a firm grip and continued.

  “With earth, I cleanse thee.”

  I released my grip on him and placed both hands in the bowl, using the water to wash the salt from my palms. I cupped some of the water and splashed it on Reggie. He spattered and coughed. I repeated the process.

  “With water, I cleanse thee.”

  “What the hell are you doin’, you friggin’ psycho?”

  Now this was the hard part. I stood, picking up one of the candles, and carried it over to Reggie. He seemed to suspect what I was about to do, because he started backing away from me, moving across the floor.

  “No—no!”

  I bent down over him and grabbed him by his throat, raising him up to my level. Reggie screamed and tried to kick at me, but he couldn’t free himself from my hold. I held the burning flame over the hem of his once-white T-shirt, now stained with stuff I didn’t even wanna think about.

  Reggie screamed and panicked, but it couldn’t deter me. The flame caught on his shirt and I dropped him in the center of the circle and stepped away. I placed the candle back in its place and stared at Reggie.

  “With fire, I cleanse thee.”

  The flames caught faster than they should have, quickly engulfing his entire body. He screamed, but that had no effect on me. I stood and watched as Reggie fell into the center of the circle, paralyzed, unable to move. I held my arms out to the side. My outstretched fingers tensed and I directed the energy from Reggie’s body, flowing it through my own and using it as a conduit, before returning it to whence it came.

  “Interemptus!”

  I closed my hands into fists, and with that action, the candles and the flames that had engulfed Reggie all snuffed out in an instant. Reggie himself lay in the center of the circle, unconscious. But otherwise, he was unharmed. Not a single burn on his entire body.

  I rolled down my sleeves and buttoned them again, pulling my jacket and trench coat back on. I picked up Reggie from the center of the circle and lifted him in my arms, carrying him back out to the Camaro. Gently, I laid him across the backseat, shut the door, and took my position behind the wheel.

  With a turn of the key, the black Camaro roared to life, and I pulled away from the s
torage center. Reggie’s grandma didn’t live too far from here—only about ten minutes.

  I glanced at the rearview mirror. He was still out. My smartphone was jacked into the car’s stereo system, so I brought up the music app and put it on shuffle. The first song playing was “Fan the Fire” by Earth, Wind & Fire. Kind of appropriate, I supposed. Fanning the fire was something I’d been accused of doing more than once.

  My hand tapped the steering wheel in beat to the music and I continued driving through the neighborhood, glancing out the windows. Row after row of shuttered storefronts—either just closed for the night or closed down permanently. It was just after midnight, so the bars were still open and jumping—even for a Sunday.

  I finally pulled up to the old townhouse owned by Reggie’s grandma. I parked the car and stepped out, reaching into my jacket to produce a gold-plated cigarette case with my initials stamped on the surface. I lit up a cigarette with the matching gold lighter.

  While savoring the taste of nicotine and tobacco, I stared at the house. A glow came from behind the front window curtains. Might be after midnight, but Stella was damn sure still awake. Couldn’t say I was surprised. She’d hardly gotten a good night’s sleep since Reggie ran off.

  I slid the front seat forward to gain access to the back and hefted Reggie from the car. Getting a good grip on him with both hands, and with the cigarette still dangling between my lips, I kicked the door shut and walked up the steps to Stella’s entrance.

  Before I even had a chance to ring the bell, the door swung in. Stella stood in the entry. Her eyes caught sight of me first and then immediately went to her grandson in my arms. She gasped and her eyes started to water.

  “Mind if we have this tearful reunion inside, honey?” I asked.

  “Sorry, sorry.”

  Stella unlocked the screen door and held it open. I took over with my foot and she moved to the side so I could carry Reggie in. From the front door, I was right in the living room. An old couch with duct tape over several portions rested in the center in front of a TV set tuned to Turner Classic Movies.

  “Just put him there on the couch.”

  I did as Stella ordered and gently set Reggie down on the cushions. He barely shifted, still completely out of it. Stella circled around and knelt by the couch, staring at her grandson. For my part, I just waited silently, taking the cigarette from my mouth and exhaling slowly.

  “You put that thing out, boy,” said Stella.

  “That how you treat the man who just saved your grandson’s life?”

  “Damn straight. You know the rules in my house.” She picked up a glass of water from the coffee table and held it out.

  I smirked. Good old Stella. As ordered, I dropped the lit cigarette in the water and it sizzled. She brought the glass to the adjoining kitchen and dumped out the water before throwing the cigarette in a garbage can. She shook her head, muttering some unpleasant words about me beneath her breath before returning to the living room. Her eyes settled on Reggie once again.

  “How is he?”

  “For now, he’s okay.”

  “For now…”

  Stella lowered her head and covered her mouth. It took a moment or two for her to recover, but she did. Standing there in a housedress with graying hair and a plump frame, Stella Ferguson looked every bit like a sweet old grandma. Which she was. But that woman was also tough as nails. She turned away from the couch and walked back into the kitchen.

  “Come on, I’ve got some coffee on.”

  After a final look at Reggie myself, I followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at the round, wooden table. Stella brought over two cups of steaming black coffee and set one in front of me. I took a slow sip as she settled into the seat across.

  “What’d you mean ‘for now?’” she asked.

  “I performed a cleansing spell on him. He won’t be moving from that couch for a few days, but when he wakes up, he’ll be good as new. More or less.”

  “And that means…?”

  “It means, though I can purge the junk from his system, there’s not much I can do about his desire. He’s gotta make the choice to fight that addiction himself. Magic can do some pretty powerful stuff, but it can’t change human nature.”

  Stella sighed and sipped her coffee. One of her hands rested on the table. I reached out and gently set mine over hers, giving it a light pat. I felt like coming back here in a few days, once Reggie woke up, and beating the stupid out of him.

  Of course, that never works. But Stella was an old friend and seeing her twist herself in knots, questioning whether she somehow failed her grandson by not stopping him earlier…it was a hard thing to watch. She’d basically had to raise the kid herself and that’s never an easy prospect.

  “You’ll be okay,” I told her. I hoped I was right.

  She looked up and gave me a weak smile in response. “Thank you, Luther. You’re a good man.”

  I smirked and brought a finger to my lips. “Shh. You’ll ruin my reputation, woman.”

  Stella chortled at that. It felt good to hear her laugh. Even in the face of darkness like this. I looked down at my gold Rolex and checked the time. Almost half-past twelve. I finished off the rest of the coffee without stopping and left the mug on the table.

  “I should get going. You take care of yourself, though. And let me know if you need a hand with anything else.”

  “Wait…!” Stella moved quicker than you’d expect for a woman her age and size. She rushed over to the cabinets and started opening drawers, searching for something. After a few minutes, she came over to me, holding open a checkbook in one hand and a pen in the other. “What do I owe you?”

  I scoffed. “You don’t owe me a thing, Stella.”

  “Don’t give me that, Luther Cross. You know I’m not one for charity.”

  “This wasn’t charity.” I placed both hands on her shoulders and bent down low enough to plant a kiss on her forehead. “This was friendship.”

  She smiled at me. “Thank you.”

  I nodded and turned away, glancing down at Reggie as I passed the couch. I wondered whether or not we’d have to go through this whole thing again in another month or so. Then, I left, fishing inside my jacket for my cigarette case as I descended the steps of Stella’s front porch and approached my car.

  I lit a fresh cigarette as I climbed into the driver’s seat. Normally, I would’ve taken the money. But people like Stella, they need someone to look out for them. Besides, Stella used to look out for me when I was much younger. Only fair I return the favor now.

  I started the Camaro and drove off into the night.

  4

  Dakota followed the GPS instructions to the letter, choosing the option of local streets as opposed to the expressway. She kept the car below the speed limit, so the drive all the way to the outskirts of Chicago took longer than it usually would.

  Evanston—where the apartment she shared with other students was located—bordered Chicago. In fact, it was even on the way. But for some reason Dakota couldn’t quite fathom, she chose to head right into the city.

  It was almost two in the morning. She rolled to a stop at a red light and glanced around. The streets were mostly empty, with the exception of a few cars. Dakota felt like she was looking for something. What it was, she had no real idea.

  The light turned green. Dakota eased her bare foot on the gas, moving into the intersection. She spied a strip mall up ahead with a small parking lot. The shop signs were all turned off and the windows darkened. Except one sign, lit brightly in a window—a sign that read TAROT.

  Dakota turned into the parking lot. Every spot was empty, but she chose one right in front of the tiny shop, pulling the car to a stop. Dakota turned the key and stared at the shop’s door. There was a sign on it that said OPEN.

  What was she doing? What pushed her to stop here? And why did she feel a pull towards this shop? Why wasn’t she going to the police about the Minister and Robert?

  Dakota gave in to
the curiosity and opened her door. She gently set her bare feet on the pavement and walked up to the shop entrance. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and hesitated. With a deep breath, Dakota pulled open the door and walked inside.

  If not for the signs, it was easy to imagine this place as closed. There was just enough lighting for Dakota to see where she was going, but not much else. A floral scent permeated the air and Dakota could hear the sound of something bubbling.

  She eventually came to a curtain and reached out a hand to pull it aside. Just past the curtain was an old woman with pale skin, sitting in an almost-comically large chair with a round table resting in front of her. The woman’s wrinkled hand grasped a long, thin, wooden pipe with a cloth-covered hose connecting it to a tall hookah resting on the floor by the side of the chair. The woman removed the pipe from her lips and exhaled a cloud of smoke in a thin, long stream.

  “I was wondering when you’d come,” she said.

  “How did—? Who are you?”

  “My name is Cassandra.”

  She sat forward in her chair and placed the hose on the table. Candles were also on the table and Cassandra produced a match from out of nowhere to light each of them. As the candlelight illuminated her eyes, Dakota gasped when she realized they were pure white, without any iris.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Dakota,” said Cassandra with a warm smile. “I’m not here to harm you.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  Cassandra gave a chuckle. “I may be blind, but I can still see far more than most. Have a seat.”

  Unease spread throughout Dakota’s entire body. But there was something about the strange old woman that felt comfortable. With some trepidation, Dakota moved towards the table, pulling out a chair set across from Cassandra.

  The old woman produced a deck of tarot cards—again, seemingly out of nowhere. She shuffled the cards and then set the deck in front of Dakota.

  “Please cut the deck, dear.”

  Dakota did as she was told, taking about a third of the cards off the top and setting the pile down beside it. Cassandra collected both piles and continued shuffling. She drew the top card and laid it down on the table between the two candles. It featured an illustration of a young man holding a rod over one shoulder, a dog at his heels and the words THE FOOL at the bottom.