by Jill Cooper
Duncan smirked. Job well done, grandpop would be proud. Seized from behind, he scowled. Well, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. A guttural gasp escaped him as someone pinned his arms back so deep his shoulder blades touched. A demon to the front ripped the shotgun out of Duncan’s hands and readied a shot that would clear as day kill both him and his demon captor.
“Hey!” Screamed the demon holding him steady, but Duncan didn’t give either of the SOBs the chance to kill him. He bent his knees and shot out, kicking the demon in front of him. The demon was thrown back and the shotgun fired wide, up into the air.
The thrust of the kick sent the demon behind him falling backward and Duncan crashed right back on top of him. He flipped over to his feet, losing his leather jacket in the process of getting free. The demon struggled to stand, but Duncan wrapped his jacket around the beast’s smarmy little face. A quick one-two punch to what was probably the nose subdued him.
The other demon was up and advancing. Duncan pushed the demon wrapped in his jacket toward the one charging. They both fell and Duncan lunged for his shotgun, no thought in his mind other than getting the job done. He slid through the puddle on his knees. Soaking wet in tight jeans never felt good, but dead felt worse.
Chest heaving for air, Duncan fired into both of them and paused to take a quick reload. Homes that had been dark were now brightly lit.
Crap. People were waking up. It wouldn’t be long now before a call was placed to police or before an innocent person got hurt in this mess.
At one of the homes, a woman stood by her door with her hair done up in curlers. Her blue robe was faded and her double chin was splattered in pimples. She gasped and pointed at something. Duncan pivoted on his feet to glance behind him and saw…a woman. No, a girl on the cusp of becoming one. Not more than seventeen.
A swollen black eye and a busted lip, she shuffled toward Duncan wearing nothing but a V-neck white t-shirt. Soaking wet from the rain, it was clear she wasn’t wearing a bra. Blood dripped from beneath the shirt. Hair short and brown, it made Duncan think of Meg.
Son-of-a-bitch.
He raced to her and took her by the arms before her legs gave out. Her fingers were bloodied; the fingernails had been torn clear off. The bastards tortured her and for what? “I’ll get you inside. Get you some help.” Where would Duncan take her? Into the church where Amanda and Jessica warred against each other?
Not exactly safe.
She gagged and shook her head. Tears flying from her eyes. “Sent me as a message. A reminder.”
Duncan’s heart pounded, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking, even though the answer was obvious. “Who?”
“Vain. The man with a scary face.” She doubled over, grabbing her stomach tight and her face twisted in pain. “There’s something…They put something inside of me.”
Vain. Duncan’s chest tightened just at the thought of her. “I have a friend who can help.” Duncan bent over to address her. He cupped her face. “You just have to hold on a little longer, all right? The church…” His mind flashed to Meg, the conversation with his grandfather.
“Meggie’s gone, boy. She ran off, but I think she’s in trouble. Can you find her? Can you—.”
Duncan rushed off to find her. Rushed off to save her. Had been middle of the night when he left the Bloods, all to save his baby sister. Now a girl who might as well have been Meg squirmed in pain. He had to help her.
Had to.
He made a move to pick her up, but she swatted him away. “Too late,” she groaned and fell over to the ground. Rolling over, she lifted her t-shirt and Duncan could see her skin expanding out and then back down. Whatever was happening, it was going to be bad. Violent.
“What’d they do to you, girl?” Duncan stroked her forehead, but even that made her rear in pain.
“New drug…said it…will help their cause.” The young woman gritted her teeth, her pupils filled with blood and her iris turned black. “Run. Get back. I’m going to…” her body started to twitch, spasm uncontrollably.
Go or stay, that was his choice. Duncan whispered through a clenched jaw. “I’m sorry. They sent you to me because…” You look like Meg. You look just like my kid sister.
“Go!” She screamed, her hands twitching.
Her words spurred him on. He took cover across the street and hid in an old stairwell leading to a basement apartment when the boom went off. A mighty explosion ripped her apart and sent her guts flying everywhere.
Vaughn did it again, but this time, it was much worse.
That son-of-a-bitch needed to pay. Needed to be dead already.
The approaching sound of a police siren wailing moved Duncan on. Otherwise, he might have hidden there forever. So he raced out of his spot and the glow from the woman’s remains drew him closer. Covered in blood and guts, a yellow glowing box looked as if it were made of gold, blinking on and off. Was that the bomb? Was that what made her explode like that?
Duncan grabbed his hair, pushing the intense emotion back, but it wouldn’t go. Kept picturing Meg, and this girl, plus all the others he failed, just like Jessica. So torn up in his own private hell, time escaped him until the sound of a charging car startled him.
Turning on his foot, Duncan’s eyes were blinded by headlights.
It wasn’t a car. Damnit, it was a bus.
Duncan jumped back toward the curb to avoid the charging vehicle, but Vain, standing in the open doorway, threw a rope around his neck and pulled him forward. Duncan gasped for breath, the tips of his boots etching a line across the street as his body was propelled forward straight toward the metal siding of the bus.
“Surprise, lover,” Vain hissed at him.
He caught the door jamb with his hand and threw a punch toward Vain with the other. The bus was coasting along too fast as the wheel was cranked for a left turn. Tree branches crashed into the siding of the bus as brakes squealed, but the bus didn’t slow down enough. Duncan lost his footing.
Damn it, he was going to fall. No matter how much he centered himself, Duncan slipped. His foot edging off the slippery step. He grabbed Vain’s collar and took bitch with him.
She yelped as they tumbled backward down a hill and into total darkness. Losing his shotgun and jacket in the same night was disappointing and a bad omen. Duncan couldn’t lose anything else. Flat on his back, Vain hovered over Duncan and punched him square against the jaw and jabbed right against his ribs.
“I finally have you right where I want you.” Her lip curled.
Duncan groaned, grabbed Vain’s dreadlocks and pummeled her face with his free fist. When he was done, his hand throbbed and his knuckles were bloody. Vain’s face contorted as Duncan pulled her overhead, and flipped her by that ugly mop of hair.
No one ever said Duncan was above a girly catfight.
Vain crashed back-first into a tree and fell to the ground. Shaking her head, she crawled away as if the world was spinning. “Catch me if you can, Duncan!”
She ran off, but Duncan wasn’t going to let her get away. She needed to pa y for what she did. Pay with her life. “You stop!” Duncan ran, chasing after her through the trees even though he could barely see in the darkness. He pushed the branches away that scratched at his face. “I’m going to get you, Vain!”
Duncan broke into a gallop down a ravine when his foot tripped a wire. It snared tight around his boot. Ugh, Duncan fell backward and hit his head on a rock while something dragged him further into the woods. Well, if luck wasn’t on his side tonight…He let his emotions get the better of him. How much he hated Vain and what she had done to Meg, all those girls….
Duncan grabbed at a tree branch, anything to slow his pace. Rocks cut at the skin exposed on his back and his head thumped over old tree stumps.
“Wait,” Duncan gasped as they came into a clearing. Demons gathered, their hands around his arms and forced him up. Twenty strong, Duncan struggled, but he couldn’t throw them off.
Vain had baited him and he fell
for her tricks. His anger clouded his judgment and look where that had gotten him.
A run down bus and in front of that, Vain waited. Her silver leather catsuit gleamed in the moonlight and was a stark contrast to her olive skin—her dark dreadlocks. She touched her bloody lip and winced, like she wasn’t used to pain. Funny, shouldn’t she be tougher than that?
Duncan was thrown down at her feet and he stared up her silver boots. He needed a weapon. Something. Anything to slow down what was about to happen. Grasping at straws, his heart pounded wildly in his chest. “What’d you give that girl, huh? What’d you do to her?”
The only thing Vain gave him was a kick to the face. His jaw slammed together as he was thrown sideways. Stars fluttered into his mind from the blow. “You’re in no position to ask questions.”
His mind swirling with ideas, none of which would get him out of the situation he was currently in. The smug look on Vain’s face made his temper run hot. Maybe he hurt her, sure. Maybe he used her and embarrassed her, but she was the one who kidnapped girls. Sold them into the trade.
The one who sold his sister to Vaughn. They had harmed and killed countless girls so how dare she be the one who got to be high and mighty?
He took a swing at Vain, but she blocked it with a forearm and struck him with her other. Right smack across his lip. It busted open and a warm gush of blood traveled down his chin.
Bad day, this one was going down in the record books.
Vain sneered as she squatted and tangled her fingers into his hair. She yanked it back and gave him a cool, calculated sneer. “I have my prize, now boys it’s time for you to claim Vaughn’s. Head to the church and gather Amanda Blood, dead or alive.”
Duncan shook his head, desperate. She couldn’t do that. They—he’d just gotten Jessica back. Amanda had to be allowed to work her magic. “No, you can’t…not the Bloods…”
“Why not? You going to stop me?” Vain laughed. “Please.”
“Leave them alone.” Duncan’s mind swirled for an answer. His mouth long dry, he licked his lips. “I’ll come with you, all right? You can do whatever you want with me, but you leave them alone.”
Her eyes contracted and the skin around them creased. “Pretty sure I’ve already have you where I want you. If Vaughn wants them…”
“But you don’t,” Duncan rushed on. “You don’t care about them or his little games, right? Let the Bloods go tonight, send your demons away and I…I won’t run. I won’t try to escape. You can do whatever you want to me for as long as you want and I’ll never leave.”
Duncan squeezed his eyes shut as he said it. Didn’t want to make sure a fool’s promise, but if it meant Amanda and Jessica were safe, then Duncan had to make that promise. A long ago memory of Jessica smiling at him flashed in front of him bright as day. He remembered that face, that lightness she once had.
If she could get that back, have another chance, Duncan had to give her time. Had to go with Vain if it meant that Jessica had a fair shot.
Had to.
Vain’s face flushed with anger and she huffed a deep breath. “They mean so much to you that you would trade your life for theirs? What makes them special?”
“So make the deal.” Duncan gritted his teeth. “Make the trade. My life, for theirs.”
“I ought to kill you now…”
“Make it slow.” Duncan swallowed. “Make it painful, just let them go. They’ve done nothing to you. It was me, though, huh? Hurt you. Embarrassed you.” He leaned forward and whispered, “left you for dead.”
Her face spread in a slow, cruel smile. “All right, Jasper. You’ll have it your way, but first…” she leaned in and gripped his face, slowing her breath down so their lips would meet. Repulsive, her breath was like a pig’s and her warm tongue was the last thing Duncan wanted, but he did his part. He had a promise to keep, so he didn’t fight her. Wasn’t an active participant, but he knew what Vain wanted.
How he had hurt her. Now Vain wanted her revenge. She’d make him suffer in ways pain couldn’t. Duncan steeled himself to go through with it. To help those he loved the most but the idea that Vain might touch him…
“Get him up and then we leave.”
“But…” Two demons glanced at each other. “Mistress…Vaughn.”
“Silence!” Vain hissed. “Do you follow me or do you follow Vaughn? Get. Him. Up. Vaughn will be made to understand. I’m not the only one who wants revenge.” She spat the words and climbed her way onto the bus.
Duncan had no recourse as he was helped up and herded onto the bus like an animal. It might as well have been a funeral procession, but he hoped his promise bought the Bloods enough time to get far away from here. Two or three days with Vain and Duncan would do what he did best.
Break his promise.
He just had to find a way to survive. Had to find a way for Vain to keep him around long enough to survive. Not a praying man but Duncan prayed then. What he was going to have to do, it was as if he had just sold his soul.
18: Father Mike
Holy water erupted all around Mike.
Keeping his head down as bullets flew; he grabbed the iron railing of the building next door. Racing up the stairs, his heart pounded and he twisted the door knob to let himself in.
The old soup kitchen was neatly organized. The chairs were upside down on the tables while the freshly mopped green and white tile floor sparkled. Too bad his muddy feet had covered it with slick puddles. Little he could do about that as he dove for a window and smashed it open.
Outside, demons swarmed like vermin.
Mike opened fire. From so far above, it was like hitting fish in a barrel. Most demons were too stupid to take cover, but a choice few fled behind a stack of crates and others dove behind a car.
Gunfire erupted and Mike ducked down beneath the window pane to avoid the spray. In his pocket, he fumbled with an ammunition cartridge. Snapping the old one out, he threw it to the ground and put the new clip in its place. At the next break of gunfire, Mike stood and blasted a demon before he got comfortable again behind a taxi cab.
The other dropped right beside a crate.
Mike sighed and leaned his head against the wall. He didn’t have time to loose, he knew that, but by everything that was holy, his breath was labored. His legs were tired and his spirit weak. He wasn’t a young man anymore, so why did he keep putting himself in the field? What was it about Duncan Jasper and those Blood girls he couldn’t say no to?
You swore an oath, Mortenson. Rid the world of evil. Uphold the honor of the cloth…
He had never thought truer words. No time to rest, Mike pushed himself off the wall, despite the creaking in his knees. Had to go check on Amanda, make sure Duncan made it back to the church. Too much to do to worry about his old body and how much longer it’d last. He’d been fighting demons so long, Mike didn’t know anything else. Everything about life—friends, good times—were something he hadn’t known in years.
He worried about mankind as a whole, but the idea that he’d worry about individuals? Something he hadn’t done since he broke with his first parish. When he’d seen the real terrors of the world for the first time. This new worry he had for Amanda Blood, of all people, terrified him. The idea of letting someone into his heart—even if it was just compassion—unnerved him.
Especially her. Especially any Blood. Why, after Gwen…
A rapid knock at the door made Mike gasp. The small window flashed with red lights which meant only one thing. “Police!” The man bellowed from outside the door. “Open up!”
Mike bit his lip and stashed his gun under the countertop. He smoothed his hair as he strolled over to the door, but the impatient cop was already knocking again. Pulling the door open, Mike tried to keep her expression neutral. “Good evening, officer.”
Staring straight into his eyes, the cop nudged his hat in a greeting. “Father, I was afraid you might be in trouble. Outside was a…scuffle and the windows to the soup kitchen are broken. Everything al
l right in there?”
“Yes,” Mike said and crossed his wrists behind his back. “I heard the noise too, from the rectory. I came to check on things and everything appears in order. You don’t need to come in and check, do you? I was about to lock up and do something about those windows, before too much rain gets inside.”
The cop pursed his lips together as he thought it over. His vision shifted to over Mike’s shoulder and back up to his face. “You’re sweating, Father. You sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”
He wasn’t buying any of it, but what could he do other than just try harder? Mike laughed and dabbed at his forehead. “Just a little rain. Wet out there, as I alluded. If that’ll be all…”
The cop stepped forward. “I think a quick look around is all I need. Then I’ll get out of your hair.”
Disappointed, Mike nodded and stepped aside. He wiped his mouth as the cop entered the soup kitchen, but Mike did his best not to sigh. Instead, he followed the cop around, blocking the counter where his gun was hidden with a simple leaning motion. “Most of the damage is over there.”
The cop followed his pointed finger toward the window. He touched the window sill with his finger and leaned over. “You care to make an official complaint?”
Mike shook his head. “Not at this point, no. It’s late and as I’ve said…”
Straightening up, the cop approached him, his hands on his belt like he was the Clint Eastwood type. “Funny thing is, Father, there’s no glass on the floor here. It’s all out on the street, which means, someone in here broke that window.”
Mike raised his eyebrows. Well, was this fellow out for his detective promotion, or what? “You don’t say…”
The cop ran his tongue along his teeth. “I do say. Now I’m wondering who here broke that window and why they might have done it. Pretty good with faces, if I do say so myself. And I’ve never seen you in the Parrish before.” He offered Mike his hand. “Why don’t you hand me your ID so I can get this all sorted out?” The cop smiled. “Unless you have a problem with that?”
