The Merging

by John P. Logsdon

  “Hmmm.” He walked over and knelt down beside Warren. “Took off half her head. Nice.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Warren begged.

  “Yeah, don’t,” I agreed. “He’s already done the technicolor yawn on my shoes once.”

  Portman nodded and stood back up. He’d obviously seen a lot of things like this in his life because he looked completely desensitized. Through all the years of being a cop, I never got used to it.

  “Gonna be long?” Portman said, glancing at his watch. “If so, I’ll head in for a quick game of blackjack.”

  “Almost done,” Warren answered, drawing another design on the ground by the body. “You all may want to stand back. I’m not sure if I’m right or not, but you don’t want to be too close if I am.”

  “What are you right about, again?” I asked before he could activate the runes.

  “I think we’re dealing with demons,” he replied.

  “Oooh,” said Portman with renewed interest.

  I stepped over to stand beside Warren. “Now, I’m no expert when it comes to dealing with demons, but if that does turn out to be one, what kind of plan do you have in place to contain it?”

  Warren glanced at me. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Might be a good idea, no?”

  “Definitely,” he agreed with a nod. “Can I borrow the mages?”

  This happened with Warren from time to time. He wouldn’t think things through all the way, and then when it got pointed out, he would forget how things worked.

  “We’re on the same team, Warren,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “There’s no borrowing, just tell them what you need.”

  He went about giving instructions as I turned my attention back to Portman.

  “This will probably take a few minutes, if you’d rather come back.”

  “And miss a shot at seeing a demon?” he said incredulously. “Not a chance, Dex. I’ll stay a few.”

  There weren’t any specific metals or fibers that I knew of for shooting at demons, but seeing as I only had wood and silver breakers on hand, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Fortunately, we had three mages and a wizard all set and ready to combat whatever came out of the little old lady, assuming Warren was right.

  “Everyone ready?”

  They all nodded. I pulled up my gun and looked down the sights, aiming it squarely at what remained of Helen’s head.

  Warren waved his hands around and chanted something in a language that sounded made up. I knew it was for real because I’d heard it many times over the years, but I had to admit that I always cracked a smile when hearing it. Imagine a bunch of tone-deaf pygmies trying to sing the theme song from Saturday Night Fever and you’ll get the general idea.

  The runes began glowing, each with its own variety of colors. They pulsed in rhythm with Warren’s chants. Some were brighter than others at first, but soon they fell into sequence and the ground trembled slightly.

  There was a smell that permeated the air moments later. Lilies mixed with a zoo and a bucket of week-old fish came to mind. It wasn’t exactly pleasant.

  “Damn, Dex,” Portman said, taking a step away.

  “It wasn’t me,” I shot back while nodding at Warren and the fallen accountant.

  “Oh right, sorry.”

  A crackling sound rang out and the body began to shift. Helen’s chest heaved a few times. Then she convulsed and began an uncontrolled dance where she slapped the ground and kicked her feet, rolling violently from side to side.

  “What’s happening?” I asked, tightening my grip on the gun.

  “I think we’re going to find out if our resident wizard is right or not,” Chuck answered as Warren continued his chanting.

  Jasmine, Rachel, and Griff had their hands linked. They were in a deep meditative state, which they sometimes did when they were trying to rebuild their power after a lengthy battle. They also said they’d practiced this technique together, just in case even bigger spells were ever needed. I was hoping they wouldn’t be needed now, but I was damn glad they’d practiced.

  A low moan came from the body of Helen Guthrie after the flopping stopped. It slowly increased in volume as multicolored snowflakes fell on her, each pulsing momentarily before bursting into flames. An eerily distant scream spilled from her lips and then stopped abruptly.

  Her only available eye snapped open.

  “Shit,” said Portman, jumping backward. “Didn’t see that coming.”

  I barely held my ground, truth be told.

  The eye was blood red with a thin yellow iris. It looked as lifeless as the rest of her body for a second, then it started moving, studying each face in my crew before stopping on me.

  Chapter 17

  I gulped as I studied that eye. It held a level of accusation that was giving me the warm and fuzzies. Did it know I was the leader of this crew or something? Captain Vampire knew, but he was one to watch the supernatural news a lot.

  “So it’s looking at me for some reason,” I said to Warren. “Any idea why that might be?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “Maybe you slept with it, too?” Rachel suggested as the three mages separated and cast a spell that enveloped the creature.

  “I’ve never slept with a demon,” I shot back. Then I frowned and chewed my lip. “At least I don’t think I have.”

  “You are the one who is like none other,” the gurgling voice of Helen Guthrie said.

  My eyebrows went up. “Maybe I did sleep with it.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to feel fear or flattery.

  “You are the amalgamite.”

  Fear, then.

  I took another step back while keeping my gun up. It wasn’t likely to do much against a demon, but you never know until you try. Maybe there were holy water breaker bullets somewhere out there?

  “Speak!” it demanded.

  “Uh,” I said with a concerned look. “Yeah, okay, so I’m the amalgamite. So what? Is that a crime?”

  “Yes,” hissed the demon.

  “Oh. Well, shit.”

  “Yours is an invalid soul.”

  Rachel snorted. “He’s kind of a dick, too.”

  “Hey!”

  The demon moved to get up, but the mages all channeled together and drove massive amounts of energy into it, keeping it pressed to the ground. It pushed back against them and seemed to be doing a decent job of fighting back.

  “We can’t hold this forever, Warren,” Jasmine said through clenched teeth. “I’m assuming you have something ready?”

  “Almost,” he replied, studying his device again.

  “What the hell, Warren?” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from the demon. “Wasn’t I clear when I said we needed to have a plan for this thing?”

  “I did,” Warren retaliated with a shriek. “They’re keeping him in check while I study.”

  I glanced at him for a second and then back at the demon. “That’s not a plan. That’s a plan to make a plan.”

  “Allow him to focus on the task at hand, please,” Griff stated in his ever-calm voice. “This is rather trying on our power reserves.”

  It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut. One thing was for sure, Warren and I were going to have a little talk about the virtues of proper planning. First I’d have to create a plan for that talk, but it’d happen… eventually.

  “Amalgamite,” hissed the demon, “why were you allowed to live?”

  The only thing worse than being called by my last name was being called “amalgamite.” It was just rude.

  “First off, my name is Ian Dex,” I said in irritated fashion. “Secondly, nobody knew of my situation until I was older.”

  “And yet you’re still alive,” it noted.

  “Are all demons as quick on the uptake as you?” I asked with an edge.

  It tried to get up again. The power of its push staggered my mages. They all gave me dirty looks.

  “Pissing it off may not be the best plan, Ia
n,” Rachel said as the sweat poured off her brow.

  “Sorry.”

  Warren started another round of chanting moments later, flicking his wand in a figure-eight fashion. Instead of the glowing snowflakes that brought the demon out, this time a black liquid-like substance streamed all over it. It began covering the body from the feet up.

  The demon squirmed and groaned, trying to fight against the fluid. Each inch that it covered solidified almost instantly. It was as though Warren was encasing the thing in its final tomb.

  “Cast pain at it,” Warren yelled.

  Rachel and Jasmine turned their shields into wave after wave of lightning-like energy. Between the black liquid and the burning electricity, I damn near felt sorry for the demon as it fought to get away. Griff’s shield held it in place, which I assumed was possible only because the creature was already nearing the end of its life.

  With a final push, the pathetic beast screamed at me before being covered in blackness.

  It stopped moving and the mages collapsed.

  Felicia rushed to Jasmine, Chuck ran over to Griff, and I went to Rachel.

  I picked her head off the ground and set it on my lap, brushing the hair out of her face. She was quite a beauty, especially when she wasn’t looking at me with incriminating eyes. Her breathing was a steady pant, and sweat glistened lightly on her brow.

  The others were in similar situations.

  Watching Felicia rub Jasmine’s face was kind of hot. Watching Chuck rub Griff’s was kind of not.

  But, hey, who was I to judge? Based on the little outburst that just came from that demon, maybe I did bone one of its kind at some point. It was pretty tough to tell who or what you were boning while in Vegas, after all, especially when you were a bit tipsy at the time.

  “Question,” Portman said while raising a finger.

  “Yes?”

  “That demon thing,” he said, pointing now at the encased body lying in our midst. “Is that what’s causing these monsters to be all big and powerful?”

  “It is,” Warren answered for me.

  “Uh-huh.” Portman was scratching his chin now. “And do they just disappear after a while or something?”

  “I don’t understand,” said Warren.

  “He’s asking you if it’s safe to bring the body back to the morgue,” I clarified.

  “Not quite,” Portman said with a look of concern. “I’m asking because I’ve already got the other two in the morgue and if they turn all demony like that one just did, I’m going to lose half my goddamn crew!”

  Chapter 18

  We pulled up to the morgue, which was an abandoned building outside of the city where few dared to tread. The outside was rundown and crumbly, but I’d been here a number of times over my years in the PPD and knew the place looked equally bad inside.

  The alarms were already blaring as Portman started bolting for the main door. I yelled out to stop him, but when a dude who turned into a werebear wanted to do something, you tended to let him do it.

  “How are your reserves?” I asked Rachel when we got to the door.

  “Low,” she said.

  “Shit.”

  I looked over at Griff and Jasmine with questioning eyes. They both shook their heads.

  That meant we were in for a ride. If Fido and Captain Vampire had somehow returned to their former, powerful selves, there was no way we could take them down without the combined efforts of my mages. Felicia and Chuck were great fighters, sure, and I could handle myself in a fistfight, too, especially if I called on certain powers that I was loathe to use, but against the likes of these guys, it’d still be tough.

  “One of you will have to power the others,” I said as a roar sounded from within the building. Portman was in werebear mode. “I don’t care who does it, but figure it out and let’s get down there.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Griff said. “I have the most reserves since I focused on shields during our encounter with the fae.” He turned to his partner and said, “Charles, you’ll be careful in there, right?”

  “Of course,” Chuck replied, putting his hand on Griff’s shoulder.

  “You guys dating or something?” I said with a laugh.

  “We are,” Griff answered without mirth.

  “Oh.” I knew it! “Cool.”

  As soon as I shut my big mouth, Griff started to funnel his remaining energy into Rachel and Jasmine. Nothing could be seen except for a minor glow of his hands in theirs. There was no way he’d be able to give them full reserves, but I’d take what I could get.

  “Follow us when you’re ready,” I commanded and then signaled Felicia, Chuck, and Warren to get inside.

  We took the steps down to the basement. It seemed logical since the lights were flashing like mad down there and shadows were bolting along the length of the corridor.

  I slowed down and pulled out my gun, readying myself for anything. That’s when a massive bear flew past me, heading to my right.

  “Portman,” I said to the others.

  “You sure?” Felicia replied, rolling her eyes at me.

  I grimaced and ran after him.

  We reached the end of the hallway and found Captain Vampire was up and about again. Right now he was busily battling workers at the morgue. Bodies were littering the floor. Plus, his head had somehow grown back. That was unsettling.

  Portman dived at the vampire, but he was swiped away with relative ease.

  “Same drill as last time,” I hissed, waving everyone to duck down.

  “Shoot him in the groin?” Chuck asked.

  “No,” I answered after staring at him for a second. “Everyone aim for his head. We just need to stop him long enough for Warren to do one of those black liquid things on him.”

  We stood up as one and aimed at Captain Vampire’s face, unleashing our mags like we were at the range. The glass that separated us from the room shattered and littered the floor. The monster fell backward as his head was blown to bits.

  Success!

  Sort of.

  Standing right behind him was Fido, and he didn’t look very happy. And, yes, his head was back on, too.

  Good thing Portman had recovered, though, since he cannoned into Fido from the side.

  He drove the werewolf into a mass of metal tables that held cadavers. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but it gave us enough time to replace our mags and prepare another volley.

  Fido had other plans.

  He lifted Portman up and threw him directly at us through the framing of the window we’d just blown out.

  On the plus side, since the window was mostly missing, we didn’t have to contend with shards of glass stabbing into us; on the other hand, being crushed by the body of a full-grown werebear wasn’t exactly a picnic.

  Portman scrambled to his feet with a roar as the rest of us lay there wheezing. Warren had luckily dived far enough out of the way so that only his leg had been hit. This was good, seeing that he wasn’t exactly built for physical abuse.

  Fido dived through the glass a little farther down and took off back the way we’d originally come in. Portman chased after him with nefarious intentions.

  “Warren,” I said, my lungs fighting to regain their normal configuration, “get in there and make sure that vampire doesn’t come back.”

  “My leg…”

  “Will be the least of your worries if that fucking vampire gets his wits about him.”

  He gulped. “Right.”

  “Also, tell any conscious workers to get everyone else out of here.”

  He nodded and began pulling himself into the room.

  Felicia’s eyes were glowing red when I finally got her to her feet. She was channeling her inner werewolf. This was good and bad. It was good because it meant she’d have more strength to fight Fido; it was bad because it meant she’d be more likely to go berserk than to think.

  Chuck’s teeth were elongated, too. This wasn’t so terrible, as vampires did just fine unless they got a taste of blood.
Seeing that Chuck was a happy drunk, the last thing I needed was for him to take down a pint of Fido’s plasma. He’d get all lovey-dovey and end up trying to dance with the enemy instead of fighting to stop them.

  “No biting,” I warned him with a stern wag of my finger.

  “I know, I know,” he said, still wincing from the pain of being landed on by a werebear. I then looked at Felicia, and added, “No berserking… or whatever it’s called.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied tightly.

  I looked down the hall where Portman had just been thrown out of another room. He was not having a good day.

  “Warren,” I called through the frame at the wizard, “follow us when you finish up there.”

  And with that, the rest of us took off down the hallway after Portman and Fido.

  Chapter 19

  Rachel and Jasmine joined us as we ran past the stairwell. They both looked a little more energized, which was good considering Fido was bound to be ready for us this time.

  “Warren?” asked Rachel.

  “He’s putting the liquid on our friendly neighborhood vampire,” I replied. “Portman is having words with Fido, and the werebear isn’t getting very far.”

  As if on cue, another ferocious roar sounded, followed by the flying body of Portman. But this time something was different. This time there was a massive fireball guiding his path.

  “Since when can werewolves do magic?” said Chuck, looking at Felicia.

  “It’s rare,” she answered with a gulp. “Very rare.”

  “Put that fire out quick,” I commanded Jasmine while pointing at Portman.

  She cast a spell that quenched the flames on the werebear’s chest.

  “Ah,” came a booming voice from the room that Portman had just been ejected from. “It seems a fellow mage has joined us, my friend.”

  I took a quick peek around the edge of the window frame and saw a man who was roughly my age. He had long, dirty-blond hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a body that belonged in a Chippendales calendar. I knew this because he was wearing a pair of jeans topped with a short-sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned. Plus, I had a very similar body.