The Demon Beside Me

by Nelson, Christopher

  “That’s your opinion, Anna.”

  “Bullshit. You stepped in to stop me from torturing him, but you’re ok if they take him out behind the shed and kill him? That’s bullshit, Jase, and you know it.”

  “They’re angels-”

  I had never seen Tink point her knife in Jase’s direction before. “They’re not the angels you think they are, Pastor Jason. You know that. You of all people know that!”

  The older man stepped back, blinking rapidly. There was something strange about his reactions. “Even so, Anna, I don’t want this sanctuary to be abused again. That was a dark time. A man died on church grounds. I can’t abide that happening again.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, he would develop a hang-up about that now.

  A clash of metal drew our attention back to the fight. Caleb had cast his shield to the side. Even from where we were, I could tell that Victor's blows had dented the shield in a half dozen places, and maybe even pierced it. “Told you Victor was holding out,” I said.

  “Dammit,” Tink muttered. “It’s only been two minutes though. I’m still in it.”

  Caleb wove his sword in front of him as if it were weightless. Victor’s twin scimitars were again in a high-low guard, waiting for Caleb to attack. He remained still even as Caleb’s blade danced. His only move was when Caleb sidestepped, turning to keep the burly angel in front of him. Caleb moved into a high guard position, then froze in place. Victor matched him. Neither of them moved.

  “What are they doing?” Tink snapped.

  “Waiting.”

  “I can see that, but why?”

  “They’re either waiting for the other to make a mistake, or Caleb’s making sure that I win the bet. On the other hand, maybe he’s making sure you lose it. Have you pissed him off recently, Tink?”

  She glared at me, then pointed her knife at Caleb. “Look, Caleb, if you make me lose this bet, I’m going to kick your ass!”

  “Neither of you are taking this very seriously,” Jase said.

  “Why?” I asked. “Caleb’s more than a match for that goofy bastard. If Victor gets lucky, Tink and I will step in and finish it. We’re not going to step in early and ruin his fun, though.”

  “But what if he loses?”

  Tink turned her head to eye the pastor. “Then you can blame yourself, Jase. If you had granted sanctuary, then you wouldn’t have this fight going on in your parking lot. The demon would be alive and happy, these two wouldn’t be fighting, and we’d stand a chance of talking it out peacefully.”

  “I don’t know about that, I’m pretty happy seeing Victor getting his ass kicked.”

  “Happier than you are now.”

  The pastor mumbled something under his breath, but Tink swung to face him fully. “We don’t trust the Cherubim, Jase. You might, but we don’t. Even Caleb doesn’t. I don’t understand why you would, when he doesn’t. We came here because we trust you. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

  “Tink,” I said, tapping the side of my head then pointing at Jase. Her eyes went wide. He wasn’t commenting on her language, he wasn’t smiling at our byplay, he wasn’t showing any trust in us, and he had even called me a halfbreed. Something had to be influencing his mind. Her knife spun in her hand, then sliced across her palm, drawing blood. I stepped behind Jase and dropped my hands on his shoulders to hold him in place. “Sorry, Jase. Need to check this out.”

  “What-”

  “You’re acting funny,” Tink said, dabbing her finger in her blood and drawing a rune on his forehead. “Just making sure that you’re still you. Ah. Good call, demon. He’s not quite all there. There’s definitely some external influence.”

  “Anything you can do about it?”

  “Give me a little of your ichor.”

  I pricked one finger with a claw and offered her a drop of my ichor. She wiped her finger along mine, drew that finger through her own blood, and then drew another rune on Jase’s forehead. The reaction was instant. His head snapped backwards, nearly hitting my face, and then he went limp. I lowered him to sit on the steps. “Nice work there, Tink. I thought there was something funny going on there.”

  “Should have guessed that the asshole angel had given him a suggestion,” she snapped. We both looked back to the two angels, neither of whom had actually moved during our little investigation. “Caleb! We just booted a suggestion out of Jase’s head! You can finish the fight now!”

  “Yeah!” I echoed. “It’s been five minutes, so I’ll win our bet!”

  Caleb smiled and whipped his sword forward and down, a skull splitting attack made to bisect Victor vertically. He moved so quickly, it was hard to follow.

  Unfortunately, Victor read it and moved. His scimitars crossed in front of him, then moved upwards, catching Caleb’s sword between them. If it had been me, I would have twisted aside to disarm the opponent, or twisted and moved forward, into his body, whichever sword was upper coming with me, right into their throat. Victor did neither. He continued the upwards motion, pushing up against Caleb’s downward move. His scimitars angled inward and he suddenly stepped forward.

  Caleb’s sword burst, the blade shattering into glittering shards. Victor’s expression turned into a triumphant smile as he completed his motion, his curved blades uncrossing in the air over his head, and then sweeping down and backwards. With his enemy disarmed, he probably thought he had won, and now he had time to pose triumphantly.

  Caleb slugged him in the nose.

  Victor staggered back, spitting. Caleb stepped in and punched him in the face again, jabbing repeatedly with his left hand. When Victor started to bring one of his scimitars up, Caleb crossed with his right. Victor staggered and dropped to one knee. “Trying to be fancy is going to kill you,” Caleb said, taking a long step back out of Victor’s reach. He held his hands out in front of him and his sword and shield, both in pristine condition, reappeared. “Disarming any angel, let alone a Power, Victor? Really? Such obvious bait. Who trained you? More to the point, how did you pass?”

  Victor stood, wavering slightly. “Shut up, Caleb.” His scimitars were down and wide, but then came back up to a guard position. “My orders are absolute. I will bring him to the Cherubim, dead or alive. If I need to kill you, I will.”

  “I won’t kill you,” Caleb said. “Don’t look so surprised, Victor. While we certainly have provocation, I think leaving you alive and forcing you to report back in disgrace will be far more fitting. Now, come on. Let’s see what else you’ve failed to learn.”

  Golden wings sprang wide from the other angel’s shoulders and he charged Caleb, feet skimming over the ground. Caleb spun, shield deflecting one blow, ducking the other. Victor spun in mid-air, then charged again with one massive beat of his wings. This time, Caleb nearly missed the block. A blade touched his cheek, drawing a barely visible line of purity out. “Do we consider that first blood?” I asked.

  “Well, Caleb technically drew it with his fists, but that’s the first sword to have drawn,” Tink said. “More to the point, I think we should void that bet. I don’t think we’re going to be close at all.”

  “I’m still going to be closer than you,” I reminded her.

  “Are you seriously going to take twenty bucks from me on a technicality?”

  “I take my wins where I can get them.”

  “Dammit. Fine.”

  Victor swept in again with another high-low attack. Caleb ducked, took the low hit to his shield, and then swept his sword for Victor’s feet. Victor flipped forward and hit the ground with a crunch of gravel. Caleb spun with an outstretched sword, trying to reach Victor before he could defend himself, but sword met scimitar and Victor charged in while Caleb’s sword was out of position. He ran into the shield, bounced backwards, and landed in guard again. Caleb matched his guard and both froze in place again.

  “They don’t look happy,” I said.

  “Probably realizing they’re more evenly matched than they thought,” Tink said.

  “What do you thi
nk, Jase?” Jase didn’t say anything. I looked down and realized he was out cold. “Tink, what the hell did you do to him?”

  “Might have overdone it,” she said. “I thought it would take a strong spell to knock the suggestion out. He is an Archangel, remember. Even if they’re low ranked angels, they’re still strong.”

  “Did you forget what we did to Azriphel?”

  She scowled at me. “Of course not. I just thought that knocking a mental suggestion out might be difficult.”

  “So you decided to hit someone in the brain as hard as you possibly could.”

  “I did not!”

  “Put that knife away.”

  Before she could stab me, there was movement from the pair of angels. Swords clashed, Caleb’s shield flashed, and both of them had their wings out. Sparks flew at each contact, lighting up the lot. If they kept going like this, the cops were going to show up, and have a rather interesting report to make.

  Another clash and both of them leapt apart. Both crouched, weapons at the ready. Sweat poured off each of them. There was only a short pause, and then both sprang back at each other.

  A bolt of red lightning smashed into the ground between them, sending them both flying. I shaded my eyes, but the light drew echoes on my retina, glowing afterimages. Out of that bolt, a figure rose, significantly taller than either, significantly more bulky, and significantly more powerful. Ram’s horns curled down beside his cheeks and his fanged mouth was scowling, very much like Tink.

  Victor stood up, wavering slightly. He pointed his swords at the newcomer. That was a mistake. The demon lifted him into the air with one massive clawed fist. “Are you threatening me, Choirboy? Could you possibly be threatening me?”

  “I-”

  The demon spun and threw Victor as if he weighed nothing. The Archangel struck a tree nearly a hundred feet away. There was a snap, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was Victor’s spine or the tree. Before I could decide, the demon pounced on Victor’s body and flung him again. This time, it was a high arc, and Victor landed on his face at the base of the steps, just a couple of feet away from me. One scimitar was missing, but he had held onto the other. I stepped on his hand until he let go, then kicked the weapon away. No reason to invite trouble.

  The demon was now advancing on Caleb, who made his sword and shield vanish, then dropped to one knee. “Prince Opheran, I mean-”

  Opheran punched him in the face. Caleb dropped. I whistled.

  “Don’t laugh, Isaiah,” he snarled. “You’re next.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You know exactly what you’ve done.”

  “Give me a break-”

  “I will give you many breaks,” Opheran said. He approached us, Caleb’s limp form slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “Tell me why I shouldn’t break every bone in your body. Twice.”

  “I know I did something amazingly stupid, my Prince,” I said, dropping to one knee. “I know it, and I’m sorry, and I’ll do whatever I can to defuse the situation.”

  Opheran set Caleb on the steps right next to Jase, who had opened his eyes and was blinking in confusion. “It was a mistake. It was a bold, audacious mistake, Isaiah,” he said. “There are even many who don’t consider it a mistake. You don’t know it yet, but you have enough demons willing to follow you now that you could formally petition for a bloodline of your own.”

  “That would be an interesting bloodline,” I said. “Least pure line ever.”

  Opheran smiled, full of fangs. “I am glad to know that you also think it was a mistake.”

  “Out of curiosity, my Prince, why did you deck Caleb?”

  “I didn’t want him to hear this.” Opheran sat down on the stairs and some of his transformation faded away, leaving him just a bulky man with ram’s horns and a very toothy smile. “Isaiah, you’ve left us with no choice but to support you. There’s to be a High Council vote in an hour, but I can tell you now that at least four Houses are considering voting in favor of supporting your conquest of Heaven. A meaningless distinction in and of itself, but it will be a formal proclamation. The Choir will be upset. Afterwards, there will be a House council where we will decide as to how best to honor your victory. An honorary title of Count seems likely, though at this point, you may command enough loyalty to own the title in truth.”

  “Look where your big mouth got you,” Tink said.

  “I should do stupid things more often.”

  Opheran reached over and cuffed the side of my head. “So, once you’ve been invested, we’ll have about a week at most to prepare for the Choir’s opening gambit of the war. It’s likely they’ll aim specifically for our House in an effort to recover Heaven. That means you’ll have to go into deep hiding, and even then, they’re likely to find you wherever you are. Once they finish that, they’ll turn their attention to each remaining House in turn, probably Lucifer next. They’ll take the Host apart piecemeal.”

  “I seem to have been misinformed as to the strength of the Host,” I said.

  “Misinformed.” Opheran smiled and shook his head, then glanced at Caleb. The angel was still out cold, as far as I could tell. “Isaiah, the Host is all fangs and claws with nothing behind it. Our flexibility is our weakness. The Choir’s been preparing for a new war for the last five hundred years. If they start it, they will win.”

  “But I thought we out-numbered them?”

  “We do, maybe by half again as much. Even if we had twice their numbers, it would be difficult. They have been preparing for the upcoming war ever since the first war ended. Only two Houses have prepared to meet them: House Amon and House Lucifer.”

  I leaned back on the steps and closed my eyes. “And thanks to me, House Lucifer is paralyzed.”

  “And House Amon knows perfectly well that we won’t be able to fight the Choir off. They will vote against you.”

  “My Prince, why would you vote in favor if you know what the results will be?”

  Opheran laughed. “The agreement between Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Mammon typically has us vote as a block. Beelzebub and Mammon are quite impressed with you.”

  “They must be pretty easy to impress,” Tink muttered.

  I ran through the permutations. “So that’s three in favor, one against. You’re anticipating Leviathan or Belphagor in favor as well?”

  “It seems likely,” he said. “There is also a chance that Lucifer will vote in favor, simply to make sure that we all go down together.”

  “My Prince,” I said. “I would make a suggestion.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Endangering our coalition with Mammon and Beelzebub is less important than killing this vote. Leviathan doesn’t tolerate fools. Belphagor will want to deliberate until the end of the world as we know it. Force a rapid vote and then have Asmodeus abstain. That brings it down to two in favor and one against. As long as there isn’t a third vote in favor, it can’t pass.”

  Opheran nodded. “I think we can get away with that.”

  “Kill the House vote, too. I don’t even want to go there.”

  “We’ll delay it, but it will be brought up again. Your supporters are numerous.”

  “I wish some of them would openly support me. However, that’ll defuse the situation, I hope. Now, what do we do with him?” I gestured toward the base of the steps where Victor was still crumpled. “He wants me to meet with the Cherubim. I assume they’ll kill me on sight.”

  “As far as I am aware, that assumption is correct.” Opheran stood up and transformed back into his fully demonic form, dark leathery skin and bat wings folded above his shoulders. He reached down and picked up Victor, then shook him. Purity oozed from the archangel’s nose, but Opheran didn’t seem concerned. “I am reluctant to do this, but I need to awaken him.”

  I felt magic flare, thumping through my bones. Tink hissed and Jase groaned. Victor’s eyes shot open and he gasped, then yelped as Opheran dropped him on the ground. He stagge
red to his feet, just to find Opheran’s face inches from his. “Who-”

  “Who gave you leave to stand, Archangel?” Opheran roared. “On your knees, you pathetic wretch! You are not given leave to stand before me.”

  Victor’s mouth moved, but his legs didn’t. I cleared my throat. “Victor, this is Prince Opheran of House Asmodeus, Lord of the Americas, Head of the Callisto Bloodline, warrior without peer. You are in the presence of someone significantly senior to you. I suggest you tread carefully.”

  “I do not acknowledge the ranks of demons-”

  Opheran placed one huge hand on top of Victor’s head. His claws reached from ear to ear. I grinned. “I suggest you make an exception.”

  Slowly, Victor sagged to his knees. Equally slowly, Opheran removed his hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared down at the Archangel. “I understand that you have orders to bring a member of House Asmodeus before a council of Cherubim. Not even Seraphim, simply Cherubim?”

  “Yes.” Victor produced the letter and offered it to Opheran. “He is considered to be under our jurisdiction for this crime. The Seraphim do not concern themselves with crimes of this nature.”

  “Crime?”

  “He has taken possession of property that does not belong to him.”

  Opheran grinned. “Abandoned property.”

  “So is Hell, in that case!”

  “And if you conquered Hell, we would kill you and take it back without this farce.”

  Victor didn’t say anything, simply stared. I looked over to Jase, who seemed to be fully conscious again and listening. His expression revealed nothing. Opheran leaned forward slightly. “Little angel, tell me. Do you have orders to kill this halfblood?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “Do you have orders to witness his death?”

  “No.”

  “What do the Cherubim plan on doing with him?”

  “They will render judgment.”

  Opheran chuckled. “They will kill him.”