Devil's Due

by Percival Constantine

  “Booze?”

  Wayne shook his head. “Negative. Not a drop in his system. Checked with Indiana State Police. They said it was a simple accident.”

  I looked at the date. Would have been about the same time that Dakota left with the Minister. That was quite the coincidence, and one I didn’t buy for a second. Dakota only ever told me the first names of the other girls, but my bet would be that if I found their last names and looked into them, I would’ve found their parents died in accidents as well.

  The Minister had covered his tracks, made sure no one was actively looking for the girls. I’d have to go into a little more depth to find out just who he was.

  “Northwestern,” I said. “Dakota was a student there. I’ll have to go in and find out who her roommate was, see if she knew anything. Check out the school records and see if they have any information on Dakota’s little club.”

  “Aren’t student records supposed to be confidential? How are you going to get access to—” Wayne cut himself off and held up his hand. “Y’know what, on second thought, probably better if you don’t tell me.”

  I flashed him a smile. “Smart man—you’re learning.”

  “Question is, why are you bothering with any of this in the first place? Why not use your magic crap to find her?”

  I groaned. Wayne knew about the supernatural forces out there. Hell, Chicago was like a focal point for a lot of weirdness. No way you could be a cop for as long as he’s been and not get suspicious about what was really going on. But it made him uncomfortable, and though he knew that things went bump in the night, he didn’t understand it at all.

  “Magic’s not like that old Konami cheat code,” I said. “It has limitations. And right now, whatever’s behind this is preventing me from using magic to find the girl. So I have to do things the slow way.”

  “Okay, fine. You do what you have to do,” said Wayne. “I assume we’re done for now?”

  “Not quite,” I said before pausing to sip my coffee. “I think I could still use your help.”

  He sighed and gulped down his coffee. “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

  “See if you can compile a list of shady religious operators. Real fringe Christian leaders, I’m talking. Focus on ones that own large tracts of land, maybe don’t make headlines, but attend a lot of networking events.”

  “Easier said than done, Luther.”

  “Anything you can do to help. This guy’s bad news, Coop. If he’s able to succeed, we’re all in deep shit.”

  “Fair enough.” Wayne rose from his seat. “You don’t do anything stupid, though, okay?”

  “Now, you know I can’t make that promise.”

  Wayne laughed. “Yeah, I know. But I’m gonna keep sayin’ it anyway.”

  “Let yourself out.”

  I finished my coffee as I heard the front door close. Once I finished, I left the mug in the sink and went to the bedroom. I took off the suit I’d slept in and got in the shower. Still couldn’t believe I’d slept so long. Everything that happened yesterday had drained me a lot more than I thought.

  I hoped the sleep had been enough to recharge my batteries. I knew I’d have to cast a few glamours on the people at Northwestern—was the only way to get them to cough up confidential records. Those shouldn’t pose too much difficulty. But if I ran into trouble, that’s where things started to make me nervous.

  Didn’t have time to completely replenish my energy, though. So instead, I showered quickly and dressed in my usual get-up—dark suit, white shirt, crimson tie.

  I retrieved the revolver and dagger from the office, making sure they were well-hidden beneath my suit jacket, then pulled on my trench coat and was out the door. I had to get down to Evanston fast—the registrar’s office was only open during the day and I didn’t want to lose more time.

  * * *

  Driving from Chicago to Evanston was always an interesting trip. The North Side of the city, along the lakefront, was far more affluent than other areas, but there were pockets of poorer areas located within that. Evanston itself was a town of contrasts, with poverty smacking you in the face right before you got to the picturesque large homes, manicured lawns, and shopping districts surrounding Northwestern University.

  The Office of the Registrar was located right around where Elgin Road merged into Clark Street. I parked in the Allison Hall lot, casting a glamour on the car to make it look like I had a parking sticker. I walked down Clark, and when I reached the steps leading up to the building, I took them quickly, walking towards the entrance with a sign that included OFFICE OF THE REGISTRAR.

  I approached the front desk and flashed a smile at the student employee who manned it. She was brunette, tan—she returned my smile. “Hi, how can I help you?”

  “Hi there. What’s your name?” I asked as I removed my sunglasses. She looked taken aback by the eyes at first, but my eyes flashed, a faint red glow reflecting on her skin, and she relaxed. In one-on-one conversations, it was easy to calm people with my abilities. In crowds, it was a different story.

  “Samantha.”

  “Hey Samantha, my name’s Luther Cross and I’d like some information on a student here.”

  “I’m sorry, but student records are confid—”

  “I understand that.” I reached into my jacket and took out my leather wallet, opening it and holding it in front of her. The glamour on my ID would make it appear as an FBI agent’s badge, unless Samantha had some illusion mastery I wasn’t aware of. “But it’s pretty important that I get this information.”

  Samantha looked unsure, glancing down at the counter. At first, I thought I might have to increase the strength of the hypnotic spell, but after a moment, her eyes found mine again.

  “What’s the student’s name?”

  I closed the wallet and put it back inside my jacket. “Dakota Reed.”

  Samantha went to work on the computer and then said, “It looks like she dropped out?”

  “You don’t sound so sure.”

  “She was a student here, but then one day she just…stopped coming. Never showed up for classes again, never registered for any new classes, and tuition and room and board payments stopped.”

  “Don’t suppose you knew her?” I asked.

  “Sorry, I didn’t,” she said with a frown. “What’s this about, anyway?”

  “It’s an investigation. We have reason to believe she may have been kidnapped,” I said.

  “Oh my god…” Samantha pulled back, covering her open mouth with her hand.

  “She lived on campus, didn’t she?”

  Samantha composed herself and nodded. “Yeah, she was paying room and board.”

  “I don’t suppose you could tell me where I could find her roommate?”

  “I don’t think that’s—”

  “Please, there’s a chance we could save this girl, but only if we find her soon.”

  “Sure, just give me a sec.” She went back to work on the computer.

  I looked around the office while she did her thing, hoping no one else would come by to ask questions. So far, everyone else in the office seemed busy with their work, so that was a good sign. If someone else turned up asking what Samantha was doing, I’d have to try to glamour both of them, and I wasn’t sure if I could focus that much—not when I wasn’t yet at full strength.

  Fortunately, instead, Samantha brought me from my thoughts by saying, “Lana Eliopolous was her roommate. She has an apartment off-campus now.”

  “Can I get that address?” I asked.

  23

  Lana Eliopolous lived within walking distance of the university, which made sense. I looked down at the slip of paper Samantha had written the address on and looked up at the five-story tenement in front of me, checking the numbers before I walked up the steps and pushed the button next to Lana’s name. A moment later, I heard the intercom.

  “Yes?”

  “Lana Eliopolous?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that’s me. Who’
s this?”

  “My name’s Special Agent Luther Cross. I’m investigating the disappearance of your former roommate, Dakota Reed, and would like to ask you a few questions.”

  A lingering silence followed. I was tempted to say something else, but before I could, the door interrupted me with a low buzzing sound. I pulled it open and stepped inside, climbing the stairs to the second floor where Lana’s apartment was located. The door was already open when I reached the landing, and she was leaning against the frame. Her hair was black and tied behind her head in a ponytail, and she wore jeans with a Northwestern T-shirt.

  “You said special agent? Can I see some ID?”

  I smiled and removed my sunglasses, immediately concentrating on my charm spell. “Of course.” I pulled my wallet out and flashed her the fake ID. After inspecting it, Lana visibly relaxed and stepped inside the apartment, holding the door open for me.

  It was a decent enough place, especially for a college student. To the left was a living room with an old couch, a coffee table covered with textbooks, and a TV. There was a short corridor to the right with two doors on the left and one on the right—a pair of bedrooms and a bathroom, I imagined. Looking down the hall, I saw that it ended in a small kitchen.

  “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

  “I’m fine, just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “Have a seat.” She threw her arm towards the couch and led the way. Lana curled up on one end of the couch, leaning into the corner where the armrest and the back cushion met, and she held a pillow in front of her body. I settled in on the other side and looked up at her, strengthening my charm spell to help ensure her cooperation.

  “What was Dakota like?” I asked.

  “She was nice,” said Lana. “Quiet, but nice.”

  “You were living together your first year?”

  “Yeah. It was one of those random placement things.”

  “How’d you two get along?”

  “Well, I mean, we weren’t besties or anything. But we got along okay. Never really fought or anything. Like I said, she was quiet. She’d always watch Netflix or listen to music with her headphones on, and she was clean, so we didn’t really have any issues.”

  “Did you know anything about her friends?” I asked.

  “There was a group of girls she hung out with all the time. Think there was about four or five of them in total? Some kind of student club or something.”

  “Christians With Conscience,” I said.

  “Right, that was their name.” Lana sighed and looked away from me, focusing on the blank screen of the TV. “I was a little weirded out when I came in on moving day and saw her hanging this big crucifix on the wall.”

  “Crucifixes make you nervous?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “I mean, kind of. My family’s not really religious so we didn’t go to church when I was a kid or anything. And it looked like Dakota was hardcore into it, so I was worried she’d be one of those people who always tries to convert me.”

  “And was she?”

  Lana scrunched her brow like she was trying to think back. “No, she never did. I mean, once in a while she’d invite me out when her group was having some kind of event, but that was about it. She knew it wasn’t my thing and she respected that.”

  That fit with what Dakota told me about her group. Less interested in preaching, more interested in doing.

  “When Dakota went missing, did she leave a note?”

  “No, nothing. I didn’t even notice for, like, a week.”

  “How did you not notice your roommate was missing for a week?”

  Lana shrugged. “I had some big projects coming up for finals, so I spent a lot of time at the library. My friend Terry, she lived a little bit closer and we were in some study groups together, so on nights when I was up late working, I’d just crash at her place. Her roommate was always off at her boyfriend’s anyway.”

  “What finally tipped you off?”

  “One night, I got home late after cramming. It was, like, after midnight. And Dakota wasn’t in her bed, which was weird. The next morning, she still wasn’t in her bed. That’s when I started to get suspicious.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “I tried calling her and it said her number wasn’t in service. That’s when I talked to the university. They said they’d figure out what was going on.”

  “And?”

  She sighed. “And nothing. After a few weeks of not hearing anything, I started asking questions. They told me she dropped out and left it at that. But now you’re here and it looks like I was right to be suspicious.”

  I nodded. “You were. Before she disappeared, did Dakota change at all?”

  “Kind of. She seemed to be spending a lot more time with that group. Seemed like every night she was going to some church thing.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “There’s a church not far from here. St. John’s, I think, is the name. I think that’s where she was going.”

  Might have some connection with the Minister. And might lead me to where I could find Dakota.

  “Do you know who took her?” asked Lana.

  “Not yet, but I’ll get to the bottom of it,” I said. “Thanks for your time, Miss Eliopolous.”

  I rose from the couch and Lana walked me to the door. We bid our goodbyes and I left, putting on my sunglasses while stepping out the door. St. John’s seemed like the next stop on my list. If someone there was helping the Minister out, giving him a place to preach, they might know where he was hiding. I took my phone out as I walked back to my car, looking up St. John’s on the map and turning on navigation. Would only take about five or ten minutes by car, so I got back into the Camaro and headed over.

  St. John’s was so small, you could easily miss it. As churches went, it was unassuming—not a cathedral by any means. I pulled up to the curb and got out of the car. Stepping onto the sidewalk in front of the church, I knelt on one knee and placed my hand on the concrete. If I concentrated, I could detect traces of magical energy. Given how much time had passed, it seemed unlikely I’d find anything more than some lingering traces. I prepared myself for that and closed my eyes, focusing my senses.

  What happened next was like being in a pitch-black room, and then having someone shine a floodlight directly in your eyes. There was magic here, and it was so strong, it threw me—literally. I stumbled, my back hitting the side of the Camaro. I removed my sunglasses and felt a growl in my throat as I stared at the cross over the church’s front door.

  Something was here. Something that pissed off the demon in me. I pulled myself away from the car and stalked up to the front door. When I reached for the handle, something stopped me from pulling. The demon was pissed, but also scared shitless, warning me to jump in my car and forget about this case right now.

  Too bad the human in me was too stupid to know better. I pulled the door open and stepped inside. I walked past the vestibule, moving into the chapel itself. There was a single aisle down the center with about ten rows of pews on either side. Up at the front was a small dais and an altar. No one else around. I seemed to be the only one in the building.

  I climbed up the step and approached the altar, walking around the wooden podium with a cross engraved on the front. Resting there was a leather-bound edition of the Bible.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  I looked up at the sound of the voice and saw a man standing near the chapel entrance. He wore a black suit, black button-down shirt, and a white clerical collar. I studied him, my eyes humming with demonic power. He was a young man with short, blond hair and brown eyes.

  No, he wasn’t the Minister. True, the real Minister could hide his appearance with a glamour, but I didn’t get any sense of the power I’d detected outside the church. This young priest might know something, though.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Father Conley. And who are you?”

  He walked down th
e aisle, his pace slowing, studying my eyes. He was no doubt trying to convince himself he was just seeing things. I could tell when he realized this was all real; his eyes bulged.

  “Or, rather…what are you?”

  I stepped down from the dais and moved towards him. With each forward step I took, the priest took two back. He stumbled and fell on his ass while I continued moving forward, slowly.

  “I think you know what I am.” Sometimes, the demonic thing could come in handy when some questioning had to be performed. And looked like we were at that point right about now.

  “N-no, get back!” Conley reached inside his jacket and pulled out a crucifix, which he then held with his arm outstretched, hoping in vain that it would keep me at bay.

  I continued approaching him until I was within arm’s reach and then I stopped. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the crucifix from his hand and snapped it into two pieces, then let them fall to the floor. Conley looked down at the broken cross, then up at me. I could practically taste the fear wafting off him.

  He quickly got to his feet and turned, running for the exit.

  I shook my head and held out a hand. “Cludo.”

  The doors shut on him. He tried to push them open, but they wouldn’t budge. I quickened my pace and grabbed him from behind, flipping him around and slamming his back against the doors. With a tight grip on his shirt, I raised him off the ground, keeping him pinned, staring at him, the demonic power from my eyes casting a soft, pinkish glow on his face.

  “O-our Father…who art in Heaven…hallowed be thy na—”

  “Oh, shut up already,” I said. “That crucifix didn’t do jack—what makes you think a little prayer will?”

  “Please, don’t hurt me…”

  “I won’t—not if you tell me what I want to know.” I leaned in closer. “There’s a man. Older guy. First name ‘The,’ last name ‘Minister.’ Know who I’m talking about?”