Demon Squad 6 The Best of Enemies

by Tim Marquitz

  A wild, homeless-looking man stood in the middle of the street, facing Rahim down, his back to me, short but wild hair running amok, his face turned away from me. He must have been the real mastermind behind Hobbs’ coup. Whatever he’d done while I was out must have been bad for Rahim to be so riled up.

  Shredded rags hung in blue strips from the guy’s waist, remnants of a leather belt keeping the last of his pants on. He wore no shirt, but blood and dirt stained his muscular torso. He wasn’t anywhere near as big as The Gray had been, but the guy put his time in at the gym, his body lean and defined. His hands were empty and swung casually at his side despite Rahim growling just yards away. There was confidence in his passive defiance, contempt even. The dude had balls of steel swinging somewhere in his ripped up jeans. If my ears hadn’t been ringing so badly, I might have heard them clacking together.

  Katon prowled nearby, his sword loose of its sheath. His stance told me there was violence coming, and it would be coming soon. He was feeding off Rahim’s hostility. I staggered forward as he circled the homeless guy, choosing the best angle from which to approach. The Judas Priest look was in full effect, leather and spikes reflecting the sunshine. He looked ready to belt out “Screaming for Vengeance.”

  A woman circled around the other side, and I didn’t need to see the brilliant blond hair to recognize her as my cousin. There was no mistaking that ass anywhere. God might have had His off days, creating shit like the devourer, but He had hit perfection the day He pieced Scarlett together.

  Like Katon, she had her sword out, Everto Trucido, its sharpened edge thirsting for blood. The shimmering manifestation of her power splayed out behind her, fiery wings displaying her angelic authority. I couldn’t see her face, but her posture alone told me she was in a like mindset as Rahim and the enforcer.

  DRAC had shown up in full force, but they weren’t the only ones. My pulse thrummed in my throat at seeing the DSI heavies lurking in the background. Jorn stood just inside the mouth of a nearby alley. At Big Mac plus, he wasn’t hiding so much as attempting to be inconspicuous, but points for pulling it off. No one but me seemed to notice he was there. Round ninja had skills.

  There beside him stood Rebecca Shaw, the government’s resident wight and all around mean bitch. She’d been the one to order the mock assassination attempt on me, trying to prove a point. Well, she proved it all right. Her eyes were locked on the guy in the middle of the circle jerk, and she hadn’t so much as cast a glance my direction, which was fine with me. I couldn’t stand the woman.

  A quick glance around the rooftops made it apparent her usual armada of snipers and cannon fodder hadn’t come along to back her up. That explained why her and the Muffin Man were playing it covert. My favorite butterface, Venai, wasn’t with them, so that probably meant she was circling around to the other side of the conflict, waiting for the right moment to get involved. They were working the strategic playbook like it was a porn magazine, racing to get to the good parts. You’d think by now they’d know how predictable it made them, but I was glad they didn’t. If things set off—and they certainly looked like they were getting ready to—predictable would be good for me. As a public service announcement for the dangers of toaster ovens, the last thing I needed was for the DSI to be on point. They’d put a beating on Scarlett when she was hurt, and I was nowhere near as healthy as she’d been then.

  As quickly and as quietly as I could, I inched forward. There wasn’t much I could do to help DRAC given my condition, but if the DSI went for their backs, I could at least provide a warning and maybe run interference. No gun, no magic, and feeling like a reverse Human Torch, I could see my day getting worse before it got better.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way,” Rahim told the man in the middle. “We can work this out.”

  “There is nothing that needs resolving, wizard,” the man answered with a casual shrug. His voice seeped into my skull where my brain did a spit-take. I knew it, but it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

  Venai didn’t give me the chance to figure it out. A blur of muscled flesh appeared out of nowhere, metal fist spikes gleaming. She leapt at the guy without a sound, flying through the air like a mutant shark, teeth bared. But before she struck, the ragged figure spun impossibly fast, sidestepping her. His hands smacked down onto her skull and back, blunting her momentum and slamming her straight down into the ground. The asphalt welcomed her with a shuddering embrace, the ground vibrating all the way under my feet.

  A follow up kick sent her flying. Stunned, she didn’t even scream as she careened through empty air. I saw Rala and Veronica right then, the two smack dab in the path of Venai’s unscheduled flight. The alien clutched to the tome in one hand with dangling Chatterbox from the other while Veronica held onto her. They ducked and moved aside as one.

  “Ssshhhiiiittttt,”CB muttered as Venai hurtled toward them.

  It wasn’t until Venai crashed into the wall near the women that she made a sound. It was a pitiful, wet grunt. Blood spilled from her mouth as she slid down the spiderwebbed bricks and crumpled into a fetal heap. Rala stared at her with wide eyes.

  I was grateful to see that both were alive and seemingly unhurt, but that thought was a fleeting one in the jumble of the others falling over each other to comprehend what my eyes were seeing. My gaze was locked on the man in the middle, uncertainty a razored ball in my throat I couldn’t swallow. The man stood with a smile on his face, facing down the rest of the supernaturals, and I could suddenly feel the power wafting off him. It washed over me like hurricane tides, each wave buffeting me, making it hard to stay on my feet. But it wasn’t so much the power that threatened to bowl me over as it was the realization of who he was.

  I knew him, but I couldn’t possibly.

  His grin widened as he spread his arms in a challenge, wisps of magic dancing at his fingertips. “This world is mine,” he said, and there was no mistaking his identity as his gaze lighted on mine. I toppled to my knees, my legs unable to hold me any longer.

  There, staring at me with irrationally familiar eyes…

  …was me.

  Twenty

  I choked back my surprise, the world spinning around me as I swayed on my knees.

  “Ah, Triggaltheron,” the other me said, the voice I’d heard in my head my entire life now coming from someone else’s mouth. No, that wasn’t quite right. He was me. Then who was I?

  Coldness came over me as I stared at me. The same face I’d seen in the mirror stared back. Nearly naked, he stood with the confidence of a runway model, strolling down the catwalk despite the audience circling him, wishing he’d trip and fall on his face. He, of course, didn’t. Dark eyes pierced me and the dislocated sense of perception made my head swim. The other me laughed, my patented chuckle slipping from his lips as if to mock me. He headed my direction with broad, easy steps.

  “Come now, Triggaltheron, do you not recognize me?” Again, my voice sounded in my ears, the effect disorienting.

  I saw Rahim inching closer, but there was no mistaking the confusion that marred his ursine face. A hound dog looked had replaced his snarl. Rahim and Scarlett closed the circle with cautious steps, still following his lead, their own uncertainty obvious.

  That made four of us. “How?” It was the only question I could get my tongue to form.

  “Do you not remember Limbo?”

  That’s when it hit, a baseball of memory thudding into my skull. The clues had been right there, out in the open so blatantly I could have tripped over them. “But you…you’re…”

  “Dead?” Azrael answered. “Of course I am, but then again, I always was.” A smile creased his too-familiar lips. “You didn’t actually think a couple of bullets and bad intentions could rid me from this world, did you?”

  My gaze fell on the charred husk I inhabited, my stomach twisting into hard knots as the pieces of the puzzle slid into place. No wonder I couldn’t find Hobbs’ body amidst the wreckage. I was wearing it. My shoulders slumped as rea
lity settled onto them like a dump truck full of bricks. I had, actually. How could I have been so foolish?

  “Do not blame yourself, Triggaltheron,” he said as though he were in my head, which, up until a few short minutes ago, he actually had been. “You could not have known I was not the same as God’s other creations. I was born to a purpose, and you cannot kill death.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Katon dart in low, swords at the ready.

  “No,” I screamed, but it was too late.

  The enforcer was swept aside by a sharpened trail of crimson energy, little more than a casual backhand by Azrael, the angel of death; the Grim Reaper himself. Katon screamed and flew away in a shower of thick, black blood. He crashed to earth without a sound, immediately scrambling to get back to his feet, a warrior born.

  “I’ll kill you, Frank,” Scarlett shrieked as she raced for Azrael. Rahim’s energy welled at his furred fists behind her back.

  I shouted again, forcing my legs to obey. They did so reluctantly, bunching up beneath me until I was standing. My warning fell on deaf ears. Scarlett feinted left and shifted right, Everto Trucido scything the air with precision. Azrael caught her wrist as though she were moving in slow motion. He grinned and slammed his fist into her face. A loud snap signaled her nose breaking, and blood gushed out in a waterfall. Azrael tugged her in front of himself, using her as a shield and smirked at Rahim as the werebear growled his fury. His magic held fast.

  “They still think I’m you, Triggaltheron. How interesting.”

  Scarlett’s eyes snapped over to where I stood, as though seeing me for the first time. If there was recognition there, I didn’t have time to see it. Azrael slammed his palm into her chest. Scarlett flew like a ragdoll tossed from a car window doing ninety on the highway. Rahim released his magic so he could catch her, my cousin thumping into his furry mass, driving him back several feet across the street, his claws ripping up the asphalt. Azrael didn’t even give him time to set her down before he was on him.

  A fist glistening with energy smashed into Rahim’s face. Teeth flew in an explosion of blood, and the wizard toppled back, still clinging to Scarlett. He hit the ground hard and slid until a nearby wall brought him to a painful halt. He roared from his back, but there was no hiding the pain that colored the sound.

  “Leave them alone, Azrael,” I shouted, hoping to give DRAC a moment to recover.

  “Now why would I do that?”

  “It’s me you want,” I answered, moving toward Azrael. “Take your revenge but leave them be.”

  “You truly are Lucifer’s child; so full of yourself.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Had my goal been only to make you suffer, I could well have done that without all the theatrics.”

  “Then what do you want?” The longer I kept him talking, the more time DRAC had to live.

  “Everything.”

  The answer chilled me. Azrael had been alive inside my head since I’d made the deal with him in Limbo. He knew damn well where God and Lucifer were and how little they cared about the Earth. Azrael also knew Baalth and Longinus were dead, and I’d killed both of them for him, however indirectly. That only left Heaven to contend with, and they wouldn’t rush down to engage him despite the duke’s proclamation of Uriel’s mission. They would wait and watch before they made their move. That gave Azrael time to plot their overthrow.

  If I had a working heart, it would have stopped right then, shame and guilt overburdening it. All of this was my fault. I’d given Azrael access to a host, a way to escape Limbo he would never have had if it weren’t for me. On top of that, I’d empowered him, the truth of what I’d done filling my head with the facts I’d missed before.

  “You…you were leading me, influencing me.”

  Azrael’s smile brightened the day. “Of course I was. While it was more difficult early on, your devilish genetics and natural resistance a hurdle I was not prepared for, the moment you inherited Longinus’ power, you made me a part of yourself.”

  The soul transfer. It suddenly made sense. All the sickness and rage had been Azrael’s, his efforts at manipulating me to do his bidding. And it had worked. After I killed Longinus, though, he hadn’t needed such subtlety. The transfer reconstructed my genetic sequencing from the ground up, making Longinus’ essence a part of my own. Since Azrael was floating around in the mix, he got sucked up and added to the recipe.

  “I can see you are beginning to figure it out, Triggaltheron.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I screamed, sickened by hearing my voice spit out that name.

  Azrael raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing the entire time. “So sensitive you have become, child. I would never have—” His eyes darted to the side.

  Mine followed to see Jorn barreling down on him. Fat boy slathered like a pit bull after a bone. Azrael only grinned wider. He spun as Jorn closed, and I felt the sudden swell of magic coming to life. Jorn kept coming. It would be the last stupid thing he ever did.

  Azrael raised his hands, two brilliant beams of energy erupting from his palms. Like spears, the energy leapt forward and slid through Jorn’s meaty flesh as if it were butter. He screamed and scrambled to stop, but once you get six hundred pounds moving forward, there’s not much you can do to get it stopped. He impaled himself on Azrael’s magic, every step driving the points deeper until they burst from his back. Blood ran from the sharpened spikes as they held Jorn upright, not letting him fall. He howled, clasping at the mystical shafts that ran from Azrael’s hands, the skewers held in place.

  “Did you truly believe a man of your size might sneak up on the Angel of Death?” Azrael asked. His arrogance was as sharp as the spears.

  Jorn growled and took another step, his hands reaching for Azrael.

  “Such determination,” Azrael said. “Such a waste of potential.”

  The angel’s spears shimmered and change shaped in an instant, the roundness smoothed away to form what looked more like a scythe of reddened energy. Jorn shrieked as the magic changed, but his voice died in his throat as Azrael spread his arms, whipping them out to his side. His magic followed suit, and Jorn’s upper body slid loose from the body. It fell with a heavy boom, blood and guts erupting from his lower half like a gory volcano before it, too, toppled to the ground. Jorn blinked in surprise as crimson trickled from his mouth. His eyes went blank a moment later.

  I heard Venai’s scream as it cut through the air. She stumbled forward, but Shaw clutched at her arm, doing her best to keep the big women from charging to her death. She barely managed to keep her restrained.

  Azrael turned back to me. “This is only the beginning.”

  The beginning of the end.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why do all this?”

  “I could lie and say it is simply because I can, but that would belittle the value I place on revenge.” The angel laughed. “Heaven betrayed me just as your father once did. When I was powerless and weak, you came to me and offered an opportunity I could not refuse, Triggaltheron.” He spoke my name with a sneer. “You gave me the means to exact my revenge, and all I needed to do was convince you there would be a pot of magic at the end of the rainbow. It was so easy.” Azrael laughed. “Greed, Triggaltheron. That is your downfall. The desire for power you had eschewed nearly your entire life became your downfall. Without your father to fight your battles, you are nothing.

  “The reality is, you were never intended to be anything more, but I gave you hope, showed you how to achieve a life you would never have on your own. It is so much sweeter to rip that dream from you now that you have tasted it. I spit in your father’s face as I spit in yours. I will have my vengeance on him one day, now that I know where he resides these days, but it brings me great satisfaction to see you brought low first; you and this unrepentant planet God once loved so much.”

  His words sank in, an anchor sinking into the sea of my defeat. He stretched a hand out and called to Veronica. “Come, and bring the girl.”

  Veronica started
forward without hesitation, dragging Rala along. I could see the reluctance in her eyes, but she was exactly what she’d always been; a slave to power. She couldn’t resist him if she tried. Azrael having resided in me, it was suddenly very clear why Veronica had done what she’d done. She didn’t have a choice. Azrael had used me to subdue her, and when she fought back, he’d beaten her with my fists. The bruises that were so obvious now had come from me in the moments when Azrael had slipped through to take charge.

  Veronica cast a glance my direction as she walked past. I muttered an apology, for all the value it held. She turned away without response, but Rala’s eyes lingered on mine. Her head hung low, shoulders slumped, but I could see pity and sadness lacquered across her expression. From the looks of it, she had slipped Veronica’s leash or the ex-wife had let her loose. Either way, there was nothing she could do.

  “Be smart,” I mouthed to her, hoping she wouldn’t do anything stupid.

  Azrael nodded as Veronica and the alien came to stand alongside him. “Open a portal,” he told the girl. She sighed and peeled the pages apart, her voice starting up immediately.

  Emerald green glistened in the air a few yards from where Rala stood clutching to the book, the alien language filling the air with its magical presence. A short distance beyond it, DRAC had reformed. They hovered, unsure of what to do. Venai still raged at the far end of the block but neither she nor Shaw had drawn any closer. They were starting to get it. Even together with DRAC, they had no chance of taking out Azrael. They still pictured him as me, which probably pissed in their Cheerios something fierce, but it didn’t matter. If they went after Azrael, he would kill them.

  The portal shone as it opened wider and wider, wafts of Azrael’s power prickling my skin. He was using his magic to help Rala with the gateway, and it was working. The thing would be man-sized in moments.

  I stumbled toward Azrael, flesh ripping at every step, but I ignored it. “Take me.”

  The angel glanced over. “Oh, I intend to, have no fear of that, but killing you does nothing to assuage my discontent.” He gestured toward the opening portal with his chin. “I would have you suffer first; you and your ilk who dared to stand against me.”