Demon's Play

by David McBride

  There on that video footage was the first time I had seen a totem protector summoned into being. It took a powerful and highly disciplined magic wielder to control them, and looking at the creature in front of Ben I knew why. Even the monstrous ghouls flinched back when both its heads roared their challenge.

  “Ten to three now,” Ben quipped, smiling. “Or four if you’re counting heads.”

  “Enough of this,” one of the acolytes said, and struck the barrier. The dome flashed incandescent purple where his fist hit, the bracelet around the dead man’s wrist glowing green with its own power in response. Terri shuddered with the strain of holding the barrier. Following his lead, the zombies pressed in to scrape and bite at the faltering magic.

  “Terri,” Ben said. “Do you have enough left to guard my back?”

  She began digging around in her pocket with her free hand and produced two small glass potion vials. “I’ll be ready when they break through.”

  “We’re not going to wait for that,” he whispered. “When I give the signal I want you to drop the shield, got it?” She nodded. He waited until the ghouls crept closer to one another, and away from one of the acolytes. “Now!” he yelled, and threw the three stones towards the acolyte who stood slightly separated from everyone else. The purple dome winked out and Terri let the beads fall to the ground as she pulled magic to her.

  The rocks, which had been mere polished stones moments ago, now shone with the light and heat of a flare. Accelerating with more force than Ben’s simple toss could have provided, they slammed into the dead man, carrying him off the ground as they punched through his chest and exploded out his back. He rolled on the ground in a daze as the glowing balls turned in midair and headed back towards the fray.

  The ghouls charged and leaped, their talon-tipped fingers and toes skittering along the pavement as they propelled themselves forward. The panther leapt to meet them. The collision was brutally feral. Fangs sank deep and claws raked bloodless furrows in dead flesh. Likewise the talons of the ghouls ripped at a hide made of magic that would simply knit itself back together if damage was done. The cat just as quickly disengaged itself from the battle and circled so that the ghouls had their backs to Ben and Terri, effectively removing them from the main battle. The ghouls gave chase.

  Terri yelled her spell into the suddenly howling wind and watched as a red-purple bloom of energy came from her body and rushed into the two nearest zombies sending them stumbling backwards and toppling one of them. She hurled the two vials at them. They struck the pavement and began smoldering, a thick blue smoke issuing from the bubbling liquid. A thick congealing mass spread from the potions and began expanding, covering the legs of the zombie on the ground. The one that hadn’t fallen tried to walk through the substance and was immediately snared. The gelatinous mass tripled in size becoming as large as a car and racing across the two animated bodies. There was one last moan of anguish and hunger before the two zombies were devoured by the creeping ooze and dissolved, its substantial mass collapsing inward upon itself.

  She turned to the third coming in from her right only to see a small ball of golden fire strike it in the neck and burst through the other side. Wisps of gray smoke rose from the dual holes; the smell of burning meat stinging her nose, but the zombie ignored it and kept coming. She drew a small length of braided leather from her pocket, uncoiled it, and spoke another spell. The rope glowed and a tendril of energy snaked down from the tip, quadrupling the length of it. She cracked the whip and let the tip whistle through the air as it licked across the chest of the zombie leaving a trail of smoldering cloth and flesh in its wake. The second time she wrapped the end of the whip around the zombie’s neck and pulled. It took two more steps before its head fell off. The spelled whip wouldn’t damage living tissue, I knew, but dead flesh apparently was no problem. One of the others had taken the opportunity while she was distracted to get close to her. It opened its jaws and hissed.

  A ball of light flew into its mouth but didn’t come out the other side. Its jaw snapped shut as it looked at her in confusion. She kicked it away just before it exploded in a shower of meat and golden sparkles.

  Ben destroyed the last two of the zombies in front of him with a blast of energy from his fingertip. The roiling blue energy seemed to melt them like wax under a torch. From off to Ben’s left one of the acolyte’s threw himself over the pieces of his minion’s bodies. Ben gestured with his free hand and the dead man froze in midair, hanging as if in free fall. They stared at each other for a moment before Ben made a lazy motion with his wrist and flung the man away to the other side of the street where he crashed into the side of a car, crumpling the metal and shattering glass. The acolyte got up, removed several shards of glass from his arm and head, and ran back to the fight.

  The other acolyte came rushing in at the same time, only to be intercepted by two of the flying orbs of light. He went to protect his face with his hand, but it simply slipped through his flesh leaving a quarter-sized red hole where it went and glanced off his cheek melting flesh from bone. The other one struck him in the knee and blasted it to pieces. Grunting, he fell to the ground and rolled, his leg flopping uselessly beneath him. He never showed any sign of pain.

  The first acolyte came in as swift as the wind, seeming to gain strength as the fight went on, unlike Ben, who looked as if he was about to fall over from exhaustion. Terri’s whip arced out from behind Ben, tracing a path in fire. The acolyte came up short, caught it in his hand, and pulled. The magic sputtered and died as it left Terri’s hand. The two balls of light came screaming in at him, but he dodged one, letting it carom off the pavement and out into the night, and he used his bracelet to block the other one. The simple rope with a raven feather attached to it seemed to attract the energy like a magnet, and when it struck it was transformed back into a simple stone. Ben sagged as the acolyte grinned.

  Sirens could be made out in the distance, getting closer with every moment. The acolyte turned to look at something in the distance.

  Terri threw up a protective circle. It was weak because she had no focus and little strength left, but if she could just hold it until the STS showed up they might be okay.

  The acolyte walked over to it and knocked on the invisible barrier. “Little pig, little pig, let me in,” he said, and thrust his fingers into the barrier, the energy flickering unsteadily and parting before him.

  Terri screamed and collapsed into Ben’s waiting arms.

  As Ben and the acolyte regarded each other over Terri’s limp form a deep growl drew their attention. The panther had returned, a severed arm being pulled between its two heads. Upon seeing the acolyte it dropped the appendage and crouched, ready to pounce.

  “This isn’t over wizard and little witchling,” the acolyte said with a sneer. He then grabbed up his fallen friend and bounded off, the night welcoming them like brothers.

  21

  “Wake up, Inquisitor.”

  The voice drifted to me as if from a million miles away. Its wilting cadence and faint mocking tone sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I was too busy looking at the bodies around me.

  I stood on the last vestige of land. It was a small square of dirt no larger than seven feet long by four wide, bearing striking resemblances to a grave that had yet to be dug. On all sides, beneath my raised platform of dirt, the dead swarmed. They reached for me with gray, rotted hands, the flesh sloughing off them until only skeletal fingers remained. For miles in all directions they clambered over each other in an attempt to get to me. I glimpsed familiar faces in the roiling sea of animated corpses. Friends, colleagues, people who had depended on me and come to regret it. They wanted me just like the rest. There was no love in those dead eyes. They wanted my flesh because I was the last one. It was only a matter of time before they reached me. They would taste my flesh and spirit and beg me to join their dance of the dead. Only a matter of time.

  “By the infernal!” The voice boomed in exasperation. “No wonder yo
u Inquisitors are so inept. Waking you is harder than raising the dead.”

  The dream fell apart. Consciousness came rushing back to me.

  Christian!

  I was lying across the couch, my feet dangling over the edge. My left hand was numb from being tucked under my body for too long. Eyes snapping open, I grabbed for my pistol with my right only to find the holster empty.

  “Looking for these?” Christian asked from his position on the cream colored chair he had moved across from me. He motioned to the table next to him. My pistol and knife sat on them. They were so close, but they might as well have been on another continent. He smiled as my face fell in defeat. “I’m not here to kill you, Mr. Goldman. If I wanted to do that I could have killed you in your sleep.” He laughed then, an edge of hysteria to it. “Of course I might change my mind. I can be awfully indecisive.”

  “How did you get in here?” I asked, sitting up and rubbing at my numb arm.

  He stood then, allowing his crimson leather trench coat to unfurl around him. His arms were bare where the sleeves of his coat and shirt had been cut off. Spreading his arms, I watched as dozens of tattoos squirmed along his skin, some lit with ethereal light and some darker than any ink. “My Master protects me well, as I in turn protect my subjects.” He looked over his shoulder towards the window.

  Cassie was standing there, holding the slats from the Venetian blinds up so that she could peer out on the darkened street. Her light blonde hair was silver in the moonlight.

  “I’m going to make her my queen, Inquisitor,” Christian said with a smile. “She no longer has Paulo thanks to you, so I have to look after her. Don’t worry; she’ll be well taken care of.” He licked his lips as he regarded her.

  My mind burned with rage as I grabbed for my power. “Attineo!” I snarled, and thrust out my arms. The bands of green ink around my wrists burst to magical life, ivy vines whipping into the air and separating from my skin. They floated in the air for the briefest of seconds before lashing out and catching Christian by the wrists. He tried to pull away, but they had him, the two separate strands becoming one and pulling his hands together tightly.

  Looking from his wrists to me, he quirked an eyebrow. “What do you expect to accomplish with this, pray tell?”

  Almost tripping over myself, I lunged past him and grabbed for my gun on the table. The sensation of cold metal filled my hand and steadied my nerves. But before I could pull it from the table a hand covered mine and pressed firmly down. Cassie stood across from me holding my hand trapped beneath her own. I hadn’t seen her move. Her glazed eyes stared into mine from beneath a curtain of blond curls. She looked feral yet carried with her a soul-crushing sadness that even in my current state of mind was impossible to ignore.

  Her lips moved but no sound escaped. Please.

  Images of her flashed through my mind. She was sprawled on the bed sleeping; a gun was in my hand but not this gun. The feel of cold metal in my hand was no longer a relief but a harbinger of terror. Her bright blue eyes staring up at me, pleading. Her body rocking back to the hammer blows of gunfire.

  My vision swam and became muddled, and I blinked rapidly to clear it. Warm tears trailed down my cheeks. I opened my eyes and it was Terri I was staring at, not Cassie. The crimson streak in her hair was blood now. Her pale skin didn’t glow with its usual warmth. Instead it was waxy and bloodless. Her lips, which used to match the color of the streak in her hair, were now tinted blue.

  Please, she mouthed.

  I blinked again and it was only Cassie looking at me. Releasing my grip on the weapon, I pulled away from her grasp and reeled backward, landing heavily on the couch. She didn’t move from her position near the table. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. Memories that weren’t my own warred with visions of Terri for supremacy in my mind.

  God help me, I didn’t want any of those images in my head.

  With a cackle that sounded like he was gargling glass he said, “See? She truly is my queen.” Bringing his hands up to his face, he spoke words that sounded like nothing human and opened his mouth wide. A stream of dark green mist rolled out and engulfed his hands and wrists. The coruscating dark magic adhered to the vines and dissolved them in seconds. “Hardly a way to treat houseguests,” he said, grinning and wiggling his fingers at me. “You know, a lesser man might take that as an insult.” In a blur of motion he was looming over me, bending down so that I could smell the scent of graveyard moss wafting off of him. “Unfortunately for you I’m not feeling like a better man today.” He bared his yellowed teeth at me.

  He reached down lightning-fast and grabbed me by my shirt collar. I grabbed for his thumb and tried to pull it backward into a joint lock or to break it outright, but it was like wrestling with iron. His strength was inhuman contained in an unassuming package. Whip thin with sunken, hollow eyes the color of dried mud. He was not a terrifying man, or even intimidating. What did it was what hid in those eyes, the things you could only see when you were face to face like we were now. Madness crawled quietly behind those orbs, and with it came a dark intelligence and an even darker power. Christian may have been sane once, but channeling Demon magic had twisted him into something as inhuman as the energy he wielded.

  He swatted away my hands and ripped open my shirt. The shield tattoo on my chest pulsed with a blue glow; the snakes on my stomach echoed it with their own black and crimson luminescence. Christian’s breath hissed out. “Well now. That’s interesting. That explains how you resisted my Voice, and why I couldn’t See into you, but not how you defeated my ghouls. They were my works of art, and you went and destroyed them. I want to know how.”

  “Get out of my house, necromancer!” I kicked out with both feet and connected squarely with both of Christian’s kneecaps. The crunch and scrape of bone against cartilage was like music to my ears. But Christian wasn’t fazed. Glancing down at a wetly gleaming bone splinter that was jutting through his pants, he grimaced and bent both legs forward. A terrible grinding noise accompanied his flesh and bones knitting themselves back together.

  I was still staring in mute horror at the hole in the fabric where the bone had stuck through when he vaulted up onto the couch and straddled my legs. He pressed my arms back against the couch. “This is a bit closer than I like to get on a first date. I’m very shy you know,” he said in a serious tone. “But it is your house and your party, so you make the rules.” He laughed in my face, his breath smelling of corrupted flesh. “Your tattoos are very nice, very artistic, but I wonder if it’s all for show. Sure, there was that little dust-up back at the church, but that was hardly a test now was it? And your bracelets just now? Well that was barely worth the waste of ink. So let’s put these two to a real test. What do you say?”

  Releasing my arms, he thrust his hands at my chest, his fingers stopping a bare inch from the shield tattoo. It and the snakes flared incandescent as energy flowed in a protective field around me. The entire room took on shades of blue and red, including Christian. One minute he was blue as if he had been thrust into frozen waters, and the next he was bathed in the color of blood. Grabbing at his wrists, I tried to push him away to create some space between us, but it was like trying to shove a bulldozer.

  I could feel the shield fail a moment before it relented. It wasn’t permanently destroyed like the wrist bands, but it had used all its stored power and would need to recharge. If I lived long enough for it to do so, that is.

  His fingertips jammed against my chest and it was as if he had plunged icicles into me. The breath exploded out of me like I had been punched in the stomach, a sick gagging sound accompanying my exhalation. I couldn’t breathe in. Raw necromantic energy flowed from his touch, the power of death itself. Black tendrils writhed from where he touched me, the wormlike energy spreading across my skin like cold fire, wriggling into my flesh like a thousand tics. My skin began to blacken and I felt my heart slow. The serpents roiled languidly across my belly, their energy all but spent. It was o
nly a matter of time before the death energy reached my heart and lungs, and then it was all over.

  Cassie placed a hand on Christian’s shoulder, delicate but firm. Christian looked at her, at the girl with the ragged hair and the tattered clothes, and the pressure on my chest relented. Slowly the energy ceased its inexorable march across my skin and began to withdraw back into his fingers. “Ah, yes, thank you Cassandra. I lose myself in the moment sometimes.” He pulled himself off of me and stood, straightening his jacket.

  A spasm of coughs wracked me as I tried to breathe. My eyes watered and spittle fell from my mouth as my lungs tried to clear themselves of whatever poison Christian had pumped into them. The black patches on my chest slowly faded, leaving bright red marks like an allergic reaction in their place. I felt like I had been run over and then set on fire. I don’t recommend it.

  “That was fun.” He lowered himself into the seat across from me. “Now, down to business. Something I want is in this city, and I am getting tired of looking for it.” Cassie placed a box of tissues from the kitchen on the couch next to me so I could clean myself up.

  “Sorry,” I said, and spat into a tissue. What came out was flecked with black and red. “I don’t have a lost and found box around here.”

  He grinned at me. “Careful, Inquisitor, I may come to the conclusion that it would be easier to kill you and compel your corpse to give me the answers I seek. Besides, from what the birds tell me you would like nothing more than to be rid of what I’m after.”

  “So what is it you’re looking for?” I asked, fearing I already knew the answer.

  “The Book of Names, Mr. Goldman. I know it never left the city, and you were the last one to wield it.” He gave me a measuring look. “It’s said that Demon magic always leaves a mark on a person. Is it true, Inquisitor? And if so, how did it mark you?”