A Dose of Brimstone: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Van Helsing Organization Book 2)

by Noree Cosper

  “He stayed in the van so we could get a good recording,” I said.

  “Well?” Esais asked Adrian. “How can you be sure?”

  Adrian sighed. “I have had a run in with vampires from this company before.”

  “Seriously?” Esais asked. “When?”

  Adrian typed on his laptop with his eyes narrowed on the screen. “Years ago.”

  Esais grinned and gave a whistle. “And I thought you’d run from the family business. Here you were hunting all on your own.”

  “If that’s what you want to believe, sure,” Adrian said.

  “So what do you know about them?” I asked.

  “Acesco is a subsidiary of a company named Erebus. Erebus is a multinational corporation that has its fingers in everything from weapons to pharmaceuticals. Looks like Acesco has moved up since I last dealt with them.”

  “So these Strigoi are working with a demon. You think it’s Brimstone?” Esais asked.

  “I think it’s too much of coincidence for it not to be. That is, if Jonah can verify Blasphemy is made from brimstone,” I said.

  A chill ran up my spine as I felt something in the back of my head. A sort of black iciness gripped me. I rubbed my arms and glanced at Esais. He chewed his lip, his hand resting on his chin as he listened to Adrian. Memories began to rise. A vision of the bar in Texas where I first met the Van Helsing brothers filled my head, strong enough I could almost smell the stale cigarette smoke and beer. I closed my eyes and imagined a thick iron wall surrounding me. The chill disappeared as the presence faded.

  “Was that you?” I asked Esais.

  He blinked at me. “What?”

  “In my head just now. Were you going through my memories?”

  “No.” He frowned and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t sense any foreign minds. Whoever it was has retreated.”

  “If anyone was there,” Adrian said.

  I gave him a dirty look. “If the demons or vampires have a mentalist, we have to be careful.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Esais said.

  I nodded. “I’m meeting with John to see if we can dig up some information on this Faust. It’s time to crack open some old tomes.”

  “Do you need help?” Esais asked. “I was going on a date, but I can always cancel.”

  Adrian snorted and put his headphones back on. A smile spread across my face, and a mix of happiness and unease filled me.

  “No, that’s great. You deserve a bit of fun,” I said. “Is this the boy from the club?”

  Esais nodded, his smile making the room brighter. “His name is Viktor.”

  “You have to introduce us. For now, have a great night. I just need one favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Can I borrow some books?”

  Chapter 10

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my eyelids. They ached after hours of squinting at the small, faded writing in these old books. I’d been lucky though. Out of thousands of demons, tales of Faust had been recorded. Understanding what it meant was a different matter. I sighed, pushed the book off my lap, and flopped back on the king size bed. John looked at me from his post at his laptop on the small desk beside the television across the room.

  “That doesn’t sound like the sound of triumph,” he said.

  “I found something, but it’s vague,” I said.

  “Want to take a dinner break and talk about what we found? Maybe we can come up with something together.”

  My stomach rumbled, and I chuckled. “That sounds wonderful.”

  He picked up the hotel phone on the desk while I pulled the book to me once again. The words were hand written in a tiny, shaky cursive. My mouth moved as I translated the Latin into Italian. I shook my head; still this revealed nothing new.

  John hung up and walked to the television and switched it on. The screen showed dancing lights as Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” filled the room. I smiled, closed my eyes, and swayed with the music. The mattress shifted, and his breath tickled my cheek. There was a small rustle of paper.

  “Wow,” he said. “How can you even read this?”

  “Patience.”

  “So what have you found?”

  I looked back at the book with a sigh. “Well, most of it is this tale of how Faust made a deal with the Devil.”

  John snorted. “Which one?”

  “Lucifer, actually. I don’t know what he got, but according to this account, he somehow tricked the Devil on his deal.”

  His hand slid up my leg to behind my knee. “How is that even possible? This is Lucifer we’re talking about.”

  I shrugged. “According to this, he lived a happy life and died an old man.”

  “Well, that goes into some of the stories I’ve come across trying to read up on his legend. Are you sure he wasn’t already old when he made the deal?”

  “Maybe, but this passage says he got out of the deal but still became a demon. And this is where it gets weird.”

  “Wait, what was that about him becoming a demon?”

  I looked up. “There’s a pretty substantial theory that humans become demons.”

  “So, they’re not all fallen angels?’

  I grinned. “No, those would be devils. Demons are considered to be their children, but I don’t think it’s in the biblical, begetting sense.”

  There was a knock on the door. John stood up and opened the door for the room service attendant to wheel in a white clothed cart. He lifted the cover, allowing the steam to rise from the food. Two plates filled with thick cut steaks, roasted potatoes cut in small wedges, and bright green asparagus sat on the table. My mouth watered as the aroma of meat seared in garlic and butter reached my nose. The attendant placed the plates on the small table with along with wine in the middle.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” the waiter asked.

  “That will be all, thanks,” John said.

  John held out my chair for me before he sat in his own. The first bite of the steak almost melted in my mouth, and I closed my eyes to savor it. John popped open the bottle and poured wine into my glass. I sipped, letting the dry, red liquid mix with the tang of the red meat.

  “You didn’t get this from here,” I said.

  John wagged his finger. “No, I had them special order it. So, how did Faust’s story get weird?”

  I waved my fork. “Well, since he tricked the Devil, when he did become a demon, he didn’t belong to any Throne.”

  John leaned forward. “So, he’s a free agent, like Ose?”

  I shook my head. “Ose was originally from the Throne of Greed. He somehow managed to break free. Faust has always been a free agent and, this account seems to warn about Faust’s ability to make those he possesses into him.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I don’t know, but Faust can apparently possess other demons.”

  “Demons have no bodies. How is that even possible?”

  I threw my hands up. “And now you see why I’m lost. Did you find anything interesting?”

  “Nothing really.” He set his fork on his plate, stood up, and held his hand out to me. “Come on. Let’s take a mental break.”

  I took his hand, and he pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder as we swayed to the music. I shuddered, breathing in his scent, and the clump of tense muscles in my back began to relax. I deserved a little bit of fun. After all, the others were out enjoying themselves instead of going over musty tomes. Except Adrian. He’d probably work all night, the way he was acting. I smiled as I imagined him hunched over his computer, muttering to himself. Why was I thinking him at a time like this? I was in the arms of the man I wanted.

  I shivered as John pressed his lips against my shoulder. His fingers trailed up my back. I pressed against him, running my knee along his inner thigh. My lips parted in a half pant as warmth spread from my loins and into my stomach. His musk mixed with the spice of aftershave surrounded me, and I couldn’t get
enough of it. He swung to the side and dipped me to where I hung in his arms. We laughed as he lifted me up into his arms and carried me to the bed. I pushed the books aside and he climbed over me, staring into my eyes, his breaths ragged.

  “That’s one hell of a dance,” he said.

  “It’s only just begun.”

  Our lips meshed, opening to allow our tongues to twine together and the heady aftertaste of wine and garlic danced on my on taste buds. John pulled away with a shuddering breath. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down one agonizing tooth at a time. John’s eyes burned like a blue flame as they traveled up my body. He glanced at the wall and screamed.

  I jump, shattered from my haze of desire at the shrill sound in my ears. John scrambled from the bed, knocked over a chair, and pressed his back against the window while his eyes never left the wall. I rolled off the bed and faced the wall, ready to deal with whatever horror was coming out of it. A small black spider crawled across the wall.

  I glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

  He jerked his gaze to me. “Just kill it.”

  I slammed my shoe on the tiny creature on the wall and looked back at him. “Amazing. You’re willing to go after demons but freak out at one spider.”

  “I can’t stand them. They’re just small and disgusting.” He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, and gave a shaky laugh. “I guess I ruined the mood there.”

  The fire inside of me had cooled to a simmer. I opened my mouth to say we could rekindle something but stopped and studied him. The blood had drained from his face, giving a sickly grey to his tan skin. He gripped the window sill as his eyes darted from the walls to me. I knew that kind of fear. I fought it in every tight space and every crowd. It had taken me a long time to overcome it. I sat down, gathered the books to the nightstand, and leaned back against the headboard of the bed, patting the space beside me. He hesitated, scanning the room again, before joining me. He laid his head on my chest, and I ran my fingers through his hair in a gentle motion.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “No.” His voice held an edge of finality.

  I sighed. As much as John was there for me as a sympathetic ear, it didn’t extend the other way. He kept this wall up when it came to anything personal. He rarely spoke of his wife and her possession or the fact I’d been the one to save him from her. He said he’d forgiven me, but I never really knew if he held some sort of resentment.

  How much do you know about him? A small voice whispered. Maybe Adrian and Esais are right.

  I tried to push the thought away, but it stayed with me in John’s silence.

  Chapter 11

  I stood in the parking lot of a group of warehouses by the riverfront and studied the metal buildings with their square, segmented windows. Several workers moved around the outside of the first building. I pulled my jacket tighter around me at the brisk wind that traveled over the waterfront. The overcast sky grew darker as the sun began to set.

  “These look pretty crowded. Are you sure there’s a demon here?” I asked Marge.

  “Apparently we’re looking for the abandoned one. Coker said he’s heard some weird shit about the rave that happened here a couple nights ago.”

  “And who is Coker again?” Adrian’s voice drifted from the small device in my ear. He’d given us a new toy to test out.

  “He’s a guy who keeps an ear out on occult shit for me,” Marge said. “I get some good relics from him.”

  “So, he’s like John,” I said.

  “Except he’s useful. He actually found a demon,” Marge said.

  “Maybe,” I said. “And John is tracking another demon that he found.”

  “Ladies, this isn’t a competition.” The tiny bud still carried the annoyance in Esais’s voice. “Let’s get to work.”

  I adjusted my sword, tucking it deeper into my long coat. Just touching it made me feel a little better. This was the first lead I’d had in a few days, and all the research for others was starting to drive me insane. Gazes followed us as we moved past the warehouse, and a few of the men, all with human auras, greeted us with whistles. The fourth warehouse stood closed and abandoned with boarded windows. I moved to the door and attempted to slide it to the side. It moved an inch before stopping with the clank of a metal chain. Some of the boards had been pried away from the windows above us, revealing only blackness from inside.

  Marge pulled a collapsible grapple and rope from her belt and aimed it at the space below a window. The grapple flew through the air and hit the window ledge with a metal thunk. She pulled on the rope a few times before nodding to me. I used my feet to walk up the wall as I climbed, and once I reached the top, I signaled her to follow. The metal walkway shook with a steady squeak as I landed on it from the window. The only light shone from the few dingy windows, so I pulled out small flashlight, moved to the t-section, and panned over the space around me. The walkway hung suspended with metal poles and was only about three feet wide with a small rail. Trash littered the concrete ground at the bottom.

  “Ok, we’re in,” I said. “Can you hear me?”

  “Clearly,” Adrian said. “What have you got?”

  “So far it’s empty,” I said. “Are you coming, Marge?”

  There was a huffing of breath. “Hold your horses.”

  A shadow moved out of the corner of my eye, and I ducked down. A breeze ruffled the top of my head as a green, scaled hand swiped where my chest would have been seconds ago. I rolled back into the darkness and came up, pulling a knife from my boot as I shone the light on what attacked me. A being in rags glided forward. Its face was covered by a worn hood. I shifted to my second sight to see what sort of monster we were up against. The soul of the human who owned the body had been devoured by a demonic snake woman. A chill ran down my spine. I should have guessed from the scales and tail. A lamia. I had hunted one in Paris in the twenties with Dimitri Van Helsing, the boys’ great grandfather.

  I gulped back the bile that rose in my throat and let my vision return to normal. This was ridiculous. The rag covered creature turned our direction, her clawed feet made a scraping sound against the grating. She stopped halfway at the intersection, its head turning at an angle impossible for a human. Green scales covered the creature’s hairless head and traveled down her body.

  “Gabriella Di Luca, I thought you would look more formidable. After all, you killed my sister.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Was that a poor way of saying you thought I’d be taller?”

  “I have waited over ninety years for this.”

  “I take it you mean Lola,” I said.

  “Was that what you called her? Must have been the human you killed with her,” the creature said.

  “Is there a point to this?” I asked.

  When she opened her mouth again, I flicked my wrist and flung my knife at her. She ducked to one side, and the knife bounced off the pole. It skittered across the walkway, over the edge, and hit the ground with a distant ping. She hissed at me, baring the long fangs.

  I smirked at her. “The conversation was growing dull.”

  The demon growled and came at me. I used one of the poles to swing around so that I came up behind her, then drew my sundang. The light reflected off the wavy blade. The lamia brought her talons in an upward rake to my chest. I hopped back and brought my blade up in a defensive stance. The metal grating shook beneath me, and I pulled back to the intersection to allow Marge to come and stand beside me.

  “Hey, scaly bitch,” Marge said. “Are you Cambione?”

  The demon paused and tilted her head to the side and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Who are you to know that name?”

  “If you were Cambione, you’d know. We can do things the easy way or the hard way.” Marge cracked her knuckles. “Please say the hard way.”

  The lamia gave a hissing laugh. “Come, human. I will rend your flesh from your bones.”

  Marge grinned. “Hard wa
y it is then.”

  The lamia crouched and leapt at Marge with her arms outstretched and her claws flexed. She brought both hands down to attack Marge in two long crossing slashes, but the Cajun girl pulled back and raised her arms defensively with her hands in fists. I stepped on the rail, swung around a pole, and brought my sword across the demon’s back. She screeched and spun to face me.

  “Gabby, what’s going on?” Esais asked from the ear bud.

  “We’ve run into one of the demon hybrids,” I said.

  “Do you need help?”

  I looked from the lamia stumbling around to Marge, drawing her leg up in a kick. “No, we can handle this.”

  Marge brought her foot down on the backwards joint of the lamia’s leg. She let out a shriek and turned, throwing its arm back to hit her. She slammed against the rail and the entire walkway wobbled. The demon flailed its arms to try to keep her balance. I stood and brought my blade across the creature’s stomach. She howled in pain as blood gushed from the wound, and light reflected off of her black claws as she raised a hand towards me. I ducked down, grabbed onto the railing, and half hung off of the side of the walkway. The demon took two steps back from me and clutched her stomach, but the blood ran through her fingers.

  Marge jabbed her foot in the lamia’s wounded leg again, and the crack echoed through the building as the saint’s bones imbedded in her boots did their job. The demon screamed and leaped into the air, rearing both her arms back. One caught me in the abdomen, and my foot slipped, leaving me dangling over the edge. My sword slipped from my hand as I struggled to hang on. Marge stumbled back as she was hit by the other hand and went over the railing. There was a thud and a loud crack. The lamia latched onto the wall and scuttled out the widow we’d opened. I hooked my foot on the metal grating, scrambled up, and lay on my stomach, panting. Marge lay below me with one arm twisted in an odd angle below her.

  “Marge?” I called.

  She didn’t move.

  “Damnit Marge, answer me.”

  She only did with silence.