Demorn: Soul Fighter (The Asanti Series Book 3)

by David Finn

  Iverson kept his face neutral. Demorn liked big boobs and pretty faces. Well, that wasn’t so unusual.

  ‘What do you need done? I have some room to move.’

  Linda signalled and one of the black-suited minders fixed Iverson another drink. The harsh lemon-lime taste was immensely satisfying.

  She asked, ‘Do you have a kill code on her?’

  ‘I have an open Investigate and Retrieve code.’

  ‘They can be upgraded. That’s up to you.’

  Iverson sipped at the drink. Linda had been around. He was pulling a blank on her face and name but records could be edited. She might have been Order once. She might still be, running this bizarre corporation into the ground on a merry path to hell.

  ‘Sure they can, Linda.’ He pressed his finger to his head. ‘It’s all in the eye of the beholder.’

  Linda slid in close. He could smell her perfume, classy and subtle. Her smile gained a little wattage and was suddenly a lot less arctic. He wished there was something crazy about her which put him off, but the reality was Iverson liked edges and he knew it. The nightmare of the undead evil dead god floating up there in space was receding.

  ‘Nobody can see us in here, Investigator. Not even the precious Order.’

  Linda inclined her head to one side. ‘Is there a Mrs Iverson?’

  Iverson’s sigh was a laugh. Her expression was open and cool. ‘Are you trying to seduce me?’

  ‘Not really. I’m just not shy. We live only once.’

  ‘I goddamn hope so,’ Iverson said. ‘There’s only so many wars and evil gods I can take.’

  Linda made a guttural sound in her throat, laughing. She patted him on his leg with a friendly slap. ‘If it isn’t Al Juddah, it’s another like him. Whatever is behind Triton Corp or worse. His ziggurats cross the globe but there are older time bombs than him, deeper.’

  Iverson felt a coldness come over him, almost a premonition of a horrible sickness, a plague. He shuddered where he sat. The ice had fallen away from Linda’s eyes. She wore an expression of professional calm. ‘Your eyes are so distant, William. You’re so empty, aren’t you? What did they do to you?’

  Iverson came back to himself. ‘I am married. Six years. Her name’s Natalia, she’s a soldier. But she’s missing, stolen.’

  Linda squeezed his knee. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.’

  Iverson shrugged. He had emotional inhibitors inside his brain the Order gave him but he rarely used them anymore.

  ‘It’s been a year since he took her, I’m ok.’

  Linda gave him a direct glance. ‘He took her? Or since she left you? Please don’t get offended, William. I only ask because that’s two different situations looking for two different responses.’

  Iverson smiled. ‘I understand. I’m an Investigator. You need the facts to make an informed decision.’

  He moved his left hand. His watch played the desert clip on the table top. For the millionth time he watched her body floating inside the ice chamber, Kingdom nearby in his powered battle-suit, monitoring the handover. She was so thin, so beautiful. And the longer this went on, no longer his. The black ship soared into the sky. The video winked out.

  Iverson watched Linda closely but she barely stirred.

  She said, ‘He’s a rabid dog, a freelancer of the worst possible kind.’

  Iverson gave a rueful laugh. ‘You’re the one who hired him. You bought out his contract!’

  Linda asked, ‘Do you have a history with Kingdom?’

  ‘He stole my wife, but I’d never crossed paths with him until now.’

  ‘Shrine Corp had a situation last month in a hostile territory, close to here. He assisted. Kingdom is a brutal sledgehammer but sometimes that’s what is needed.’

  Iverson could feel the Order chemicals soothing his brain. ‘You won’t be able to keep him forever, Linda.’

  Linda pressed a button on her tablet screen. ‘We don’t want him forever. His very existence is a challenge to the precepts of Al Juddah. He’s a dangerous isolationist obsessive. In fact, we only bought Kingdom for a week. It’s done. He’s operating outside our service contract.’

  Iverson leaned back in his chair. She didn’t take her cold eyes of him. Iverson was certain if he went for his gun his throat would be ripped out before the pistol left the holster.

  ‘Why would the Shrine be so generous? What would be the cost?’

  Linda seemed energised. ‘Shrine Corp is a global player. We have significant resource Cores, far beyond Bay City. The Shrine can help you, William. If you want your beloved wife back.’

  ‘That’s not an answer, Linda.’

  Linda leant back. ‘We don’t hire such filth normally. I have a whole different line on the warriors I use.’

  ‘Lady ninjas, yeah, I noticed.’

  ‘Not just lady ninjas. Shrine Corp has a relationship with the Blood Clan, one that stretches back decades.’

  Iverson knew of the Blood Clan. Legendary killers from the frozen north. They turned up at various flash-points in the War, glimpsed in shadows and the fire. Mercenaries. Assassins. Protectors. Killers. Legends. Some said they protected souls. Some said they stole them. Iverson didn’t really care as long as they stayed on their side of the fence. The one watching from the doorway was a little close for comfort.

  ‘Where is this meeting going, Linda? I don’t buy you’re doing anything to help me out of kindness. I’ve seen your god. He doesn’t give off a Peace and Love vibe.’

  Her tone was chilling. ‘I’ve helmed this company for five years. We make record profits, I love it here. I’ve been inside the mind of Al Juddah, he’s been inside mine. Together we’ve gazed into the abyss, no secrets.’

  Her eyes glowed. She was a fickle one with edges. It was as attractive as it was dangerous.

  ‘I’ve seen the graveyards of the gods that surround him, writhing in death. Many of them far more mighty than Al Juddah in their prime. Do you know why they can’t rise and Al Juddah is on the verge of a return?’

  ‘A good dental plan with regular checkups?’

  ‘His hatred of the Asanti whore. She has stolen a locket of his girlfriend’s hair.’

  That’ll do it, Iverson thought with a dry laugh.

  3

  * * *

  ‘Just to be clear,’ Iverson said, ‘I don’t know exactly what you mean by that.’

  Linda brushed her pale neck. ‘The Asanti bitch, Demorn, wears a golden necklace. She fills it with souls of the damned. She also has a locket that contains the hair of a Pain Goddess, Mictecaciuatl. She was Al Juddah’s lover when they were alive. They sought to rule the universe together.’

  Iverson said, ‘I’m sure that would have worked out wonderfully. And now they’re dead and exiled to the Void. How nice for the planet.’

  ‘You make light of everything, Investigator. I wonder if you truly want to recover this precious wife of yours.’

  ‘Sure I do. I love her, Linda. But I’m not going to sell my soul to the devil do it. I’m kinda attached to it.’

  ‘No-one’s asking you to do that. Our god demands a depth of worship you couldn’t possibly imagine.’

  Iverson felt like he was losing himself in those cold eyes. He could still feel the terrible trace of Al Juddah in his head. Order tech would have to flush it out later. He looked at the Shrine logo upon the boardroom table. He wondered how many times he had seen the strange design upon buildings back at the Front, not recognising the complex web beneath the explosions and the dead and the screams.

  ‘I can imagine it’s a whole level of commitment I’m just not ready for.’

  She clucked her tongue in disgust. ‘You’ve barely touched his mind. You can’t imagine how much Al Juddah hates Demorn.’

  Iverson grinned. ‘I can’t kill her, Linda. I’m an Investigator, not an executioner.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me, William. You could. You just won’t. The Investigators are not saints. You are a group born in war. Blood covers your orga
nisation, it covers your secrets and your graves. It covers every single one of you.’

  This woman knew what she spoke of. There was no point debating her on the merits of the Order. If anything, Iverson was inclined to agree.

  Iverson said, ‘Yeah, I’m not a saint, Linda. Sue me. But Demorn is not even my target. The warrant I’ve taken is for the Lady Josephine. Formerly of Ceron City and the Court of Baron Santos.’

  Lina’s eyes held the faintest trace of surprise. ‘The witch? Word was she’d settled with Ceron.’

  Iverson shrugged. ‘Perhaps, but she keeps on sinning. Bay City wants her. Reasons confidential.’

  Linda waved her hand. ‘They can have her.’

  He smiled. How generous. Linda swivelled in her chair. ‘So, do we have a deal?’

  Iverson looked out from the boardroom window. The night sky was starless.

  He said, ‘If I catch them, I’ll bring back the necklace for you.’

  Linda nodded, signalling the red robed woman over. She grasped Iverson’s wrist in a vice-like grip, laying his right hand out on the table. A gold branding iron lay across her knuckles. She pressed the gold knuckles down onto his skin—there was no pain, just a brief frisson of cold.

  The woman withdrew and Iverson watched as the shrine logo burnt into his hand, slowly fading into the skin. He shook his hand.

  ‘That better not have been me signing my soul away. Because I didn’t give you the magic word, and I won’t.’

  ‘It’s a key code. So you can follow the witch and the Asanti.’

  ‘Where have they gone?’

  ‘A dimensional outpost that leads to a Source Core World. The same one Kingdom has most likely fled to, along with your wife.’

  That shiver ran down his back. Linda wrote something on a card and passed it across the desk. That frozen smile.

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t have to fight. It’s stupid and tiring,’ he said.

  Iverson got up to go, tired of all this suddenly.

  ‘William.’ Linda’s voice carried a hint of friendliness.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘If you catch her, don’t wear the locket. It eats at your soul, piece by piece, and I get the feeling you only have a thimble left.’

  True enough. Iverson murmured a goodbye as he walked out of the boardroom and back through the empty reception. It seemed filled with expectant ghosts. Wolf was asleep in the car, dead to the world. The ninjas had carried him out. Iverson accelerated fast out of the lot. There was nobody on the roads. The calmness in Linda’s manner bothered him. It was the calm of true crazy or the eye of hurricane. Underneath his surface cool, Iverson’s demeanour was anything but calm. His wife’s face pressed in his memory as did the desert sky. Instead of hope he had a twisted fatalism that almost killed off real joy. He could feel the comet pressing in the sky, even though it was invisible to him.

  Through the fire into the rain, through the fire into the rain.

  The words kept replaying as he turned on the radio and kept driving through the night, driving an unfamiliar labyrinth of roads through twisting canyons, driving fast, his knuckles white and gripping the steering wheel.

  4

  * * *

  ‘We are lost, man. L-O-S-T, lost.’

  ‘Yeah, I’d say so,’ Iverson said with a sigh. He looked out at the wide open sea in front of them. The sun was coming up over the sea. The two of them stood on the beach. The Jag was behind them, in the empty carpark. It was freezing and Iverson’s black suit felt thin over his bones. He looked back, mile after bleak mile of rocky shoreline.

  ‘I mean, where the hell are we? I can’t even see the city! What happened, man?’

  The Wolf was strangely happier, looser than last night. Maybe it was because he was wearing thick black gloves that he had stashed in his coat. Maybe it was because he’d grabbed a nap while Iverson drove. Iverson ran a hand through his short hair. He needed a coffee. He needed something warm. He’d stared into the cold too long.

  ‘Do you still have reception, Wolf?’

  ‘Just a single bar.’

  Iverson put his own phone away with a grimace. ‘Beats me. Punch in a diner. I need a coffee just to stay alive.’

  Wolf’s laugh was deep. ‘I thought you sold your soul for directions.’

  Iverson was dry as they got back in the car. ‘Consider it more of a rental. And all I got was a key, no map.’

  Wolf played with his phone, grumbling.

  Iverson tried to find them a decent station but all the radio wanted to play was bare bone country music and talk back shows filled with good ol’ boys and girls talking about the end of the world with barely concealed relish. Just when he was about to give up, Iverson’s implant synched with the car and he put on some electro wave pop, washing over his mind and the disgusted groan of Wolf as they exited the carpark fast, leaving tracks in the asphalt.

  The burger joint was burnt out rubble. Wolf idly kicked the tires on the car.

  ‘So much for that big burger I was dreaming about.’

  It was a cold midday. The sun sparkled like the distant, beautiful star it was. They felt a million years from balmy Bay City. Iverson had found a huge black overcoat in the car trunk which fit him snugly over the black jumpsuit.

  He was looking at a charred sign that pointed toward Highway 61. The highway was eerily unaware of this ghost spot, but he could hear the rush and hum of the endless nearby traffic. It felt like they were in a different universe, alone but separated only by the thinnest and most fragile of barriers.

  Wolf cocked a thumb at the buildings. ‘How long do you think it’s been like this? My phone was saying they’re still open. But now it says they’re closed for good.’

  ‘I don’t know, Wolf. Let’s have a look.’

  Iverson continued toward the ruined burger joint. The implant was switching on and off like crazy this far out, but every step brought in more distortion. Iverson pulled his Glock out. Wolf already had a blaster he’d carried since the early War days in his hand.

  ‘We’ve got spirit readings or something like it.’

  ‘Is your magic key shining or something?’ intoned Wolf, his voice suspicious and deep.

  Iverson grinned at him. ‘No. What did she have you do, Wolf?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Josephine. The Lady.’

  Wolf shrugged. ‘Bodyguard. Consultant.’

  ‘Lover?’

  ‘Why do you care, Iverson? I’m collecting intel, that’s what you asked me to do.’

  The burnt building felt old. Whatever happened, happened years ago. Iverson put his pistol away as he sorted through old debris. Line marks on the concrete floor of the burger joint. The echoes of magic, sorcery scars in the landscape.

  Iverson said, ‘I only ask because I do care. The warrant’s on you too. You know what the Order is like. An operative only has so much rope.’

  The moment’s silence told him everything. Wolf had the blaster trained on him. Iverson turned, palms raised. Wolf didn’t look nervous and he didn’t look wracked with guilt. Iverson had the uncomfortable suspicion that their relationship had hit a low point.

  ‘Why did you bring me here? Surely not to shoot me in the back.’

  Wolf glowered, a flash of emotion. ‘I don’t want to shoot you at all. Check your key. Is it glowing?’

  Iverson glanced at the back of his hand, freezing in the cold.

  ‘She’s trying to save us all, William. That’s the thing.’

  Iverson gave his frozen smile. Linda would have been proud.

  Iverson said, ‘Some people don’t want to be saved. They don’t think they deserve it. Same thing with civilisations.’

  Wolf looked at him for a long five seconds. The blaster didn’t move. Iverson’s implant was telling him a thousand things about the body language and not a single one said anything about mind control being active.

  Finally, Wolf said, ‘God, you’re a cold one, Iverson.’

  He holstered the blaster. Iverson wonde
red how close he had come to pulling the trigger. He wondered why he felt old and filled with defeats. I don’t think I can save her, he thought with a bitter coldness. I think she’s already dead. There’s just the void in front of us.

  Wolf said, ‘The site is dead. The Asanti girl used it as a transit point once but it’s not gonna happen.’

  ‘Transit to where?’

  Wolf grinned. ‘Somewhere really cool. Something big.’

  Iverson took a last glance over the burnt out shop. He could see spectral skeletons. This was graveyard physics. This was bad juju. He’d never believed in magic until he saw what an attack group of Corizan mages did to a Special Forces division. Now he believed in it enough to move away fast if you didn’t have to be around it.

  ‘Time to go. You can drive. I’m the one who wants to have a sleep now.’

  ‘I guess you have questions,’ Wolf said as they got back in the car.

  Iverson tilted his head. The heater slid over them like a cocoon. Iverson leaned back in his seat.

  ‘Let me guess. Either Josephine is paying you way more, or she’s paying a bit more and the sex is really great.’

  Wolf guffawed. ‘She’s paying more but you don’t get it. She’s classy, Iverson.’

  She’s got him brainwashed the old fashioned way, Iverson thought.

  Iverson said, ‘I noticed the grey. You’ve aged more than I have since we last saw each other. And I’ve barely spent a week in the Deep Freeze since the last time I saw you.’

  Wolf gave him a sly look. The kid had plenty of angles these days. Let him feel some of Iverson’s own.

  Wolf said, ‘So what are you saying?’

  ‘Either you’ve been really, really stressed or you’ve been spending time somewhere else catching up to this old man.’

  Wolf was quiet. Good, let the kid realise he wasn’t so fast and clever nobody could spot his moves.

  ‘Have you got another transit point?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Wolf said. ‘It’s somewhere a lot more real.’