The Demon Beside Me

by Nelson, Christopher

  He grunted and stretched his right arm out, his sword snapping into his hand. “I take it that I’m the last angel here with a sword.”

  “No,” I said. “Most of your high-and-mighty types have them, but I think they’re afraid I’ll break their toys too. It’s sort of sad that one halfblood has a quorum of your ruling caste running scared right now.”

  Caleb gave me a grim smile. “I think it’s more that sword than anything else.”

  “Don’t ruin my delusions.”

  He chuckled and walked toward Victor, steel crunching under his feet. Victor looked up at him as Caleb aimed the point of his sword at his throat. “Going to kill me now, Caleb? Just as you would kill our people?”

  “No,” Caleb said. “Just you.”

  “Stop this, Caleb DeMarco!” The Seraph stepped forward. “If you kill him, we shall cast you out!”

  “What makes you think you have the authority to order me to stop?” Caleb turned his head, ever so slightly, and the Seraph stopped in his tracks. “Do you not remember who I am, Seraph? I am the ranking survivor of the 37th Independent Choir. Our autonomy has never been revoked.”

  I took a half-step back. No wonder Bartholomew had been terrified of what Caleb could do. “You may be independent, but you are still a member of the Angelic Choir!”

  “But I am not under your orders,” Caleb said. “I serve the Choir as I see fit. In their wisdom, the Seraphim of that era rewarded us with that unique responsibility, to stand against the Choir itself if we deemed it necessary. You were there, Seraph. I remember your face as you watched them declare it before a quorum of all angels. It passed with a near unanimous vote. Do you not remember?”

  “Your judgment is suspect! You collaborate with demons! You even call him your friend!” The Seraph pointed down at me.

  “Who are you to question my judgment?” Caleb’s tone grew sharp. “You, who set your dog on my trail? You, who plunged our race into an unnecessary war out of fear and greed and hatred? Am I to believe that you are the fool who has brought us to the brink of destruction?” He kicked Victor in the face, sending him sprawling. “Or should I believe that you listened to the vile screed of this archangel, who spat venom and called it justice?”

  “Believe what you will, Power.”

  Victor scrambled to return to his feet, but Caleb planted a foot on his chest before he could get anywhere. “I believe that you are the cause of our problems, Victor,” he said. “I believe that your whispers and hatred, simply to exact your revenge upon me, have brought us to this point. Even through all of that, I could forgive you. But you cut a man’s throat, in cold blood, just to hurt me. You left his children without a father, you left his wife without a husband, and you left me without one of my dearest friends. For that, Victor, for that and for nothing else, you have earned this.”

  I wanted to close my eyes. Instead, I watched as Caleb pushed the tip of his sword into Victor’s throat. The Archangel gagged, his eyes wide with fear, his lips moving soundlessly. His hands reached up to grab at Caleb’s foot. Caleb simply pushed down harder. Purity leaked from Victor’s throat as the blade slid inexorably down through his flesh. When one of his major blood vessels finally gave way, it was almost a relief. Caleb withdrew the sword and watched, expressionless, as Victor’s hands clawed at his own throat in an attempt to staunch the bleeding.

  Before long, Victor lay still, purity pooling around him. Caleb’s sword vanished. “And that, Seraphim, is the end of one of our problems.”

  “And the other?”

  “This foolish war.”

  “We are winning!” The Seraph pointed at me. “His race cannot stand against us! Already one of their Houses has fallen entirely. A second will fall today.”

  “And you will lose everything,” Caleb said. “Don’t you understand? He holds the sword of Death. At his command, every angel could die.”

  I took that as my cue and raised the dark sword in the air. “Again, I demand the surrender of the Angelic Choir, and the immediate cessation of hostilities.”

  “One halfbreed demon cannot stop us,” snapped one of the Cherubim, silent up until now. “Not even with that sword he holds.”

  “A foolish request!”

  “And you stand with that fool, Caleb?”

  The calls and scorn echoed across the chamber. As the final echoes died out, I turned and walked back to where Death and Tink stood waiting. “Do whatever it takes to end this,” Tink said quietly. “They won’t listen to any sort of reason.”

  “Why should they?” I said. “They are winning, it’s true. The only thing I can do is force them to lose.”

  “I stand ready for your command, Gatekeeper,” Death announced in a voice that drowned out all other sounds in the room.

  I let all attention focus on us, then drove his sword into the floor at his feet. “Then hear my command, Horseman of Death. My command is as follows. Until the Angelic Choir meets my demands, you are to decimate their adult population. Every minute, slay one in ten of each rank, from their exalted Seraphs to their lowliest Angels.”

  “Wait!” Caleb took a step toward me, eyes gone wide. “Zay, what are you doing?”

  “I’m doing what needs to be done, Caleb. If winning is all that matters to your people, then I have to force them to lose.”

  He shook his head and took another step toward me. “This isn’t right.”

  “Neither is what they’ve done to my people.” I looked him in the eye. “They murder our non-combatants. They torture and torment, they slaughter without mercy or moral compunction. You know what they do, Caleb. You’ve seen it done to me.”

  “Even so-“

  “Even so, they must be stopped.”

  I saw him waver. He dropped his gaze. I knew how horrified he was, because I was just as horrified. The only one who seemed to be taking it in stride was Tink. The angels watching us were silent, expressions of fear and disgust and disbelief on all of their faces. “Zay, at least spare the women,” Caleb said at last.

  I opened my mouth, about to accede to that request, but stopped before the words would come out. Death’s warning echoed in my head. I had already shown too much mercy today. I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

  His head snapped up, but before he could say anything further, I turned away from him. “As I commanded, Horseman. Begin.” I dropped my voice and whispered, “But spare my friend.”

  Death nodded and his eyes glittered. Silver streaks burned down his bony cheeks and his sword burned with a dark flame that seared my eyes. A pale horse drove through the wall of the chamber. Its mane burned with a cold light and its tail seemed to whip through the air as a scythe. Death leaped up astride the horse, which reared, then raised his sword high.

  He vanished. Angels dropped. There was no ceremony, no vision of Death, no chance to beg for mercy. At least a dozen of the spectators simply fell to the ground, eyes still open, no wounds, no trauma, simply dead.

  Caleb fell to his knees. Two of the Seraphim collapsed behind him. “What have you done, Zay?” he asked, his voice thick. “This is monstrous.”

  “I’m sorry, Caleb.” I took a step toward him, but my knees refused to hold me up any longer. I sat down hard. “Shit. I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

  “You didn’t have to!”

  “Then tell me how else I could stop it!” I pointed at the Seraph, who was kneeling next to one of his fallen compatriots. “How in the world do you think I could convince them to stop winning a war they’ve been dying to win for the past five hundred years? They’re winning! They’re slaughtering my people, they’re slaughtering innocents just because they’re demons! What was I supposed to do?”

  Caleb bowed his head. “You could have showed mercy.”

  “I can’t!”

  “You could have!”

  “Thirty seconds remain until the next culling,” Death whispered in my ear.

  “I ask for the third time,” I said, raising my voice. “I ask for the surrend
er of the Angelic Choir and the end to this damned war! We didn’t want it, but by Lucifer’s hairy testicles, I will damn sure make sure it ends!”

  The Seraph rose and his wings spread wide from his shoulders. “You murderer!”

  “Fuck you!” I shouted back. “Fuck you and your entire murderous contemptible race! Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve said? You’re murdering my people just because of what they are! Now it’s not right when it’s coming back on you? Fuck you! Get over yourself! If you want to end this, then stop this war!”

  “You can’t force these demands on us!”

  “Guess again, Seraph. They’re forced. Even if you kill me right now, your people are going to die until you surrender.”

  “Take the terms,” Caleb urged.

  “Ten seconds,” Death whispered.

  “Take them now, you prideful son of a bitch!” I shouted.

  “I will not bow to the demands of a halfbreed hellspawn! Burn forever!” The Seraph shouted, then wavered, then dropped. He wasn’t the only one.

  “This is ridiculous!” I stomped across the chamber, past Caleb, up to where the remaining Seraphim and Cherubim sat. I grabbed one by the collar and pulled him face to face with me. “Will you speak for your people?”

  The Seraph gibbered and I pushed him aside. Another one met my eyes for an instant. I grabbed him and forced him to his feet. “What about you? Will you save your people, or are you a coward as well?”

  “I can’t!”

  I tossed him back into his chair and stalked onwards. Not one of them tried to attack me, even though they all had their swords available. The leadership of the Choir was more than happy to send their people to die, more than happy to order the mass murder of their enemies, but once the fight came to them, they broke. I had to find one who would stand up.

  Bartholomew’s eyes met mine. I curled my lip. “You’re a coward, Barty,” I snapped. “But maybe you’re the least cowardly of the bunch. You want to be the one who saves the remnants of your people from death?”

  “Thirty seconds,” Death whispered.

  The Cherub looked from side to side. “I’m not a Seraph.”

  “Do you think they’re in any shape to argue the point? Consider it a field promotion and a coup.”

  He eyed me with raw hatred. “What are your terms, demon?”

  “You stop the war. You stand down all of your forces. You release all prisoners. You make necessary reparations. You give back whatever’s been taken.”

  “And? What’s in it for us?”

  “Other than not having your entire adult population dead?” I reached for the chain around my neck and pulled it up to reveal the key I had worn for months. “I offer you this. Heaven will be returned to your control, once everything else has been done to my satisfaction.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “Take it now,” I snapped. “You have seconds left before the next round.”

  Bartholomew stood up. “I assume the authority as the Seraphim are unable to do so. The Angelic Choir accedes to your demands, demon.” He drew his sword from the air and flipped it around, extending it to me hilt-first. “The victory is yours.”

  I grabbed the sword from his hands. “I accept! Death, no more!”

  The Horseman appeared next to me. “Is this to your satisfaction, Gatekeeper?”

  “It is.”

  “I trust that you recall our bargain?”

  “I do. As soon as everything has settled down here, we will open the Gates of Ascension. It may take a couple of days. Is that acceptable?”

  The Horseman shrugged. “We have been waiting for hundreds of years. A few more days is nothing.”

  Bartholomew watched this exchange with narrowed eyes. “A dark bargain to save your people.”

  “It’s less dark than you’d think,” I said. “Besides, you’re not exactly going to be popular, either.”

  “There is a certain level of pragmatism among our people,” he said. “While I may have overstepped my bounds, there is a vacuum where those bounds once were.”

  I reversed his sword and handed it back to him. His eyebrows rose. “Yes, you and your people are paroled,” I said. “We don’t want to rule you. We don’t want anything to do with you, to be honest. If you would just leave us alone, things would be fine. That’s all we want.”

  “So you’re trying to tell us to give peace a chance?”

  “In effect, yes.”

  Bartholomew’s eyes slid toward Caleb. “That is what he believes, isn’t it?”

  “You could do worse than believing in him,” I said.

  In the next few minutes, archons distributed new orders to every surviving Choir unit. For once, their monolithic command structure worked in our favor. Not one of their units refused the order to disengage. I walked across the room to sit next to Tink. She leaned against me, both of us exhausted, and we watched as higher ranked angels passed orders back and forth while the lower ranks carried bodies out and cleaned up the shards of steel that littered the floor.

  Soon enough, the only body left was Victor’s. No one seemed to want to touch it. Caleb still knelt near it, his gaze focused on the ground. I stood up, offering a hand to Tink to help her up. We walked to our friend. He looked up as we stood over him. Tears tracked his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

  “So am I,” he said.

  “The demon did what he needed to do,” Tink said.

  “I wish that he didn’t need to do it.”

  “We’re going to leave,” I said. “You want to get out of here?”

  He shook his head and slowly got to his feet. “I can’t. Not right now. I need to be alone for a while.”

  “And then?”

  “And then my people need me.”

  I wanted to offer him my hand. I wanted to show that we were still friends, or at least, that I was still his friend. When I saw his eyes, I hesitated, then nodded. “You know where to find me.”

  He almost smiled. “Looking for a new apartment?”

  I sighed. “Yeah.”

  “Once things are taken care of here, we’ll need to talk,” he said.

  “You got it.”

  He nodded, hesitated, then walked away. I led Tink in the other direction, out from that chamber, toward the exit signs that lit the halls. “Do you have any idea where we are?” she asked.

  “Not a clue. I was unconscious when they brought us here, remember?”

  “So you have no idea how to get home from here?”

  “Nope.”

  “You have any money to call a cab?”

  “You’re the rich bitch, you know.”

  “What good are you then, demon?”

  I glared at her, then realized she was grinning. “You tell me.”

  “Let’s go home, demon.”

  “I don’t have a home to return to,” I reminded her.

  She sighed. “Well, I guess under the circumstances, you can crash on my couch.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Her scowl came out in full force. “But if I catch you doing anything with my little sister, if you touch her, if you even think about touching her, I will fucking kill you, demon. You got me?”

  I held up a hand and dragged her to a halt. “Wait a minute. Wait just a damned minute here, Tink. You’ve got a little sister?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “A little

  sister?”

  She punched me.

  Chapter Twenty One

  * * *

  It took the better part of a week before I was able to discharge my debt to the Horsemen. Opheran himself had arrived on scene to get us away before the Choir could change their minds. Luckily, the House troops that arrived with him kept from antagonizing the Choir, and we left without further incident.

  Instead of letting me crash on Tink’s couch like I so richly deserved, Opheran pushed me around for the next four days, trying to put together an accurate picture of what our House had lost in the war. The first and foremo
st loss was our High Prince. The day after Tink and I had been taken, Harax had ordered a full-scale search. He took part personally, taking along a group of his handpicked elite guards. Only one of them had returned.

  Opheran had taken command of the House in the interim and ordered our people to go to ground. Our cell system had broken down under pressure and hundreds of demons dropped out of contact. It took me three days simply to compile a list of those who had survived, which let us concentrate on determining who was dead and who was simply missing.

  Our House was lucky. House Lucifer was effectively destroyed with fewer than three hundred adults surviving the war. Mammon and Beelzebub had lost the majority of their fighting forces. Belphagor refused to reveal the extent of their losses. On the brighter side, Amon and Leviathan were relatively intact, and neither of them trusted the other. If they had united, they would have dominated the Host. It would take years for the full ramifications to shake out.

  Once I had completed Opheran’s task to his satisfaction, we had a long chat. While he was still angry at how I had disobeyed orders, and even angrier about how our High Prince had fallen in battle as a result, in the end my audacity had resulted in the end of the war. “I can’t damn well punish you for that,” he said, drumming his claws on his desk. “But, I can give you a reward you don’t damn well want, Baron.”

  “Baron?”

  “You’re now a Baron, and a member of the House Council, with all the rights and responsibilities that entails,” he said, placing a rather large amount of emphasis on the word “responsibilities”. I cringed. “I believe your holdings will be local. I also plan on further duties for you, Baron, since leaving you to your own devices seems to cause disaster after disaster.”

  “But I’m a halfblood,” I pointed out. “I can’t exactly hold a noble rank without challenge, and it’s not like I can fight off a challenge. All I need to do is yield.”

  Opheran simply grinned. “All I need to do is mention what duties they will inherit if they are victorious. You won’t be challenged.”

  “Shit.”

  I gave Tink a call once Opheran had dismissed me. She glared at me once I got in the car. I glared back. “What?”