by N. P. Martin
“Yeah, about that,” he said, chewing on a piece of bacon. “I got a call late last night about a case I’ve been working on for the past year. I’ve been chasing a demon serial killer who likes to kill street kids. Thing is, I’ve always been one step behind him. Every time I get close he changes location. So last night I get a call telling me the demon son of a bitch is holed up in some abandoned building in the city.”
“So let me guess. You want to hunt this demon first?”
“It’s the first time I’ve gotten this close. You don’t have to come. You can just meet me later.”
I shook my head. “No way. I’m not staying here alone all day. I’m coming with.”
“This demon is dangerous.”
“Don’t care. And anyway, I’m supposed to be this Watcher now, right? Isn’t that what Watchers do, put themselves in dangerous situations for the good of all humanity?”
Frank laughed. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Besides,” I popped a final piece of bacon into my mouth. “I’ll need the practice if we’re going to take on the demons who took Josh.” I sounded more confident than I felt. The vampire episode still had me shaken up. I put it down to post traumatic stress or something. It would pass, I was sure.
“Alright. You wash up while I gear up.”
“I’m a guest here, you know,” I called after him. “Guests don’t do the washing up.”
“You’re not a guest anymore,” he called back over his shoulder. “Meet me in the cellar when you’re done.”
A small smile appeared on my lips. It was stupid, but his comment made me feel kind of good. As someone who had never felt like they belonged anywhere in eleven years, it was nice to hear that I was part of the furniture, even if it was temporary. And Frank was my real family, not some foster parent who wanted a government handout and didn’t give a shit about me at the end of the day. For the time being, I was as at home as I was going to get.
The cellar entrance was at the end of the hallway where the bedrooms and bathroom was. I hadn’t been down there yet since it was always locked. When I went down the stairs into the cold cellar I gave a tight laugh. “Oh my God,” I said. “Did you and my mom share the same designer or what?”
The cellar was Frank’s equivalent of my mom’s lockup. There were weapons hanging from the walls, the same glass jars with weird stuff in them scattered along over a bench that ran along the back wall as well as stacks of dusty books piled all over the floor. The only thing that was different was the large pentagram painted in the middle of the floor. “What’s this about?” I asked.
“It’s a demon trap,” he said as he loaded bullets into a mag clip.
“And why would you want to trap a demon?”
“Sometimes we summon them if we need to talk to them.”
“And they come willingly?”
“Not exactly. They don’t have a choice. If they’re summoned they have to come. The stronger demons can resist it.”
“And all those jars with the weird shit in them, what are they for?”
“Spells. They’re ingredients.”
“My mom’s lockup is full of them.”
“I know. She has some rare stuff in there.”
Doesn’t surprise me at all.
“What do we need to kill this demon then? And have you tried summoning it?”
“No,” he said sarcastically.
“Okay, stupid question. So what’ll I need for this mission?”
“Your knife and swords. No gun. You need more training with that. I don’t want you shooting me by accident.”
“As if that would happen.”
“You wouldn’t be the first. Go get your stuff and meet me outside.”
I turned to walk away then stopped. “Why’d you ask me down here in the first place?”
“Oh yeah. Here.” He took a knife from of the bench and handed it to me.
“I already have one of these. My mom’s.”
“This one belonged to your dad.”
I looked at the knife. It was virtually identical to the one that belonged to my mom except for the initials DS carved into the bone handle—Dean Swanson. “Why do you have this?”
“I took it from his study after he died…something to remember him by, I suppose.” He turned away from me and started cleaning one of his guns on the bench.
“You went to the house?”
“I had to check it out, see what happened.”
I was silent for a moment. “You never did tell me why you and my dad stopped speaking. What happened there?”
He cleared his throat. “It was a personal thing.”
“That’s it? That’s all your going to say, it was a personal thing?” He kept his back to me, saying nothing while I waited for answers that clearly weren’t coming. “It’s not good to keep secrets, Frank.”
“It was between me and your dad,” he said, irritated. “It doesn’t concern you.”
I scowled and pursed my lips together like a kid who’d just been denied her favorite toy. Maybe it wasn’t any of my business, but I was still pissed off with his attitude. “Whatever.”
I left the cellar and went to my room to get geared up, forcing myself to take deep breaths and forget about what just happened in the cellar, at the same time resolving that I wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Today we had a demon to hunt and a contact to meet about Josh’s kidnapping. It wouldn’t be good to let animosity cloud my judgment so I just got changed into black leggings, combat boots, black leather jacket and T-shirt. I also attached a knife holder to my ankle that I got from the lockup, sliding my dad’s knife in. It fit perfectly. The jacket I wore was custom tailored so it would hold the short swords. I slid one sword in each side of the jacket before looking in the mirror. You wouldn’t even know the swords were there. “Let’s do this,” I said to my reflection and went and met Frank in the car outside.
Frank was quiet on the drive into the city and I figured it had something to do with me asking him about him and my dad. He remained stone-faced as he drove, the radio playing classic seventies rock in the background. I stared out the window, awkward in the tense silence.
“I wasn’t trying to piss you off earlier,” I said when I couldn’t take it anymore. Frank glanced at me briefly and then fixed his attention out the window again as he drove us into the city. “It’s just that I thought I knew my parents, I thought I knew where I came from. Now it turns out I didn’t know them at all.”
“I get it,” he said, slowing for a red light.
“Then why do you get so defensive when I ask you about stuff concerning my parents?”
“It’s complicated.”
I waited for him to say more, but instead he stared straight ahead, anxiously waiting on the light to change. I shook my head. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Jesus, Leia.” He took his hands off the steering wheel in a gesture of frustration. “This is isn’t exactly easy for me either. I mean, you come along, dragging up all this stuff from the past…” He stopped, shook his head. “It’s just hard for me…” He started driving again, angrily sounding the horn at a taxi cab that pulled out in front of us. “Asshole!”
I didn’t know what to make of his behavior. He looked pained, like he was having trouble dealing with things related to whatever past he shared with my parents. I knew he felt guilty about what happened to my mom. Did he feel guilty about my dad’s death as well? After all, if my mom hadn’t sold her soul to save him, my dad would also still be alive. So he had two deaths on his conscience.
There was something else though, something eating away at him. I wanted to push him on it, find out the source of his pain and evident guilt, but at the same time, I hardly knew him and I wasn’t sure if I had the right to go poking around inside his head. I figured if I pushed him any further he would ditch me and I still needed his help to get Josh back. I couldn’t afford to alienate him just so I could satisfy my desire to know the truth.
“You know what, Frank?” I said. “You’re right. I’m just being pushy. It’s none of my business what happened. I won’t ask again.”
The tormented expression never left his face as he kept driving. It seemed even me backing down wasn’t enough to alleviate whatever he felt. We drove in silence for the next ten minutes until he eventually took us down a side street and parked the car outside an abandoned building that I recognized immediately. “I know this building,” I said, looking out the window. “My friend Kasey lives in there.”
“In there? How could anyone live in there?”
“She lives on the streets. Sleeps in there most nights though.”
“Well, that’s where our demon is holed up. The basement to be precise.”
I remembered something. “Holy shit.”
“What?”
“Kasey was just telling me the other day about the screams she heard in the basement.”
“She heard screaming in the basement?” Frank nodded to himself. “Makes sense. My source told me that’s where our guy hangs out.”
I thought for a moment. “But Kasey is probably in there now. Will she be in danger?”
“I dunno. Maybe. I wouldn’t chance it where demons are concerned.”
“Shit. We’ll have to get her out.”
“You mean you’ll have to get her out.”
“Yeah, whatever.” That’s even if she was in there. I hoped she was out hustling somewhere, far away from the demon that building. If she was in there I’d have to try and persuade her to leave, which wouldn’t be easy since I knew Kasey would ask me a million questions about what I was doing there. Plus I hadn’t seen her since before everything happened with Diane and Josh. She would have heard stories on the news. I’d have to try and explain that as well. “I’ll do my best.”
We got out of the car and Frank popped the trunk, took out two flashlights, a Glock, and a knife. He handed me a flashlight. “Gonna be dark down there.” He put the gun in his waistband and the knife inside his black corduroy coat.
The building was surrounded by plywood sheeting to keep people out. I took him to the place where there was a loose board—the spot where Kasey got in and out of the building. We squeezed through the gap and made our way into the building. “Kasey is on the third floor,” I said, and Frank followed me up the two flights of stairs. “This way.” I walked down the hallway to the empty apartment that Kasey called home most nights, wrinkling my nose at the musty smell, my boots sticking to the grimy floor. “Kasey? It’s Leia, you in there?” I said when I knocked on the door.
The door opened immediately and there was Kasey, still dressed in the same clothes as the last time I’d seen her. She looked deathly pale, even more than usual. “Leia, what the fuck?” Kasey said. “I can’t believe you’re here.” She came forward and threw her arms around me.
“Hi.” I looked at Frank, who stood to the side of the door, stone-faced as usual.
“I thought you were dead,” Kasey said, hugging me tight.
I squeezed her back. “I’m fine, really.”
She let go of me. “I heard about Diane. It’s all over the news. The cops are looking for you and Josh. What the hell happened?” Just then she noticed Frank. “Who the hell is this? You a cop or something?” She stepped back into the room as if to get distance from him.
“Nope,” Frank said, looking bored by the whole exchange.
“Kasey, this is Frank. My…uncle.”
“Your uncle?” Kasey didn’t seem convinced. “When did you get a fucking uncle?”
“I’ll be down the hall,” Frank said, walking away.
I walked into the room with Kasey, my nose trying to contend with the rank smell in the place. “I don’t really have time to explain everything, but I need to you leave here for a while.”
Kasey frowned. “What? What for? What’s going on, Leia?”
How am I supposed to explain this?
“It’s complicated. I just need you to trust me on this. You have to get out of here, for your own safety.”
Her frown deepened as she shook her head. “But why? What’s going on with you? And is that guy really your uncle? You said you didn’t have any family.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said. “Turns out I have an uncle. I know this must all seem really weird but he’s helping me out. Josh is missing.”
“According to the news you both are. Did you kill your foster mom?”
“Fuck, Kasey, I can’t believe you just said that. Of course I didn’t. Neither did Josh.”
“Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.” She sat on a grubby mattress that was covered by a few scratchy looking sheets. There was a bottle of water on the floor, which she lifted and drank from. “I’ve got the flu. I’m dying here.”
I knew she was ill. The cold weather is not your friend when you live rough. “A lot’s happened lately. I don’t have time to explain it all but that man out there—my Uncle Frank—he’s helping me get Josh back.”
“What the hell happened? Where’s Josh?”
“Some bad people have kidnapped him.” I could hardly tell her demons took my brother. Even Kasey wouldn’t accept that one.
“Why though?”
“Something to do with his weed dealing. I think he owed the wrong people.” Not great, but it was the best I could come up with that was even halfway plausible sounding.
“Okay. So what are you doing here?”
Good question.
“Eh, we got a lead that Josh may be being held in the basement of this building.” I hated lying to her. She was my best friend, but what was I supposed to say? That there’s a demon serial killer in the basement?
Kasey looked like she was struggling to believe me. “That’s fucking crazy. Why down there of all places?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. You can see why I want you to leave for a while though, right? It might not be safe here.”
Kasey flopped back on to the bed, a sheen of sweat covering her face and neck. She didn’t look well at all. “I knew there was something going on down there. Remember I told you about the screams? They must be torturing people or something. You really think Josh is down there?”
“We’ll see.”
“Why not tell the cops, let them sort it out?”
“Come on, Kase. You better than anyone know how cops are. They’d just think I had something to do with Diane’s murder. Better to keep the cops out of it.”
She nodded. “I’m with you on that one. Cops are useless assholes.” She coughed suddenly, her chest heaving as she lay on the mattress. “Oh god…”
I went and sat beside her. “You’re really sick, huh?”
“Yep, as a fucking dog, man.” Snot was running from her nose and she wiped it away with her sleeve and sniffed heavily. “I ain’t going anywhere. Just come see me when you’re done.”
I squeezed her leg and stood. “Alright. Just keep an ear out for trouble, okay?”
“I always do,” she said, too weak to even smile.
“When I come back I’m getting you to a doctor.”
“Fuck that, man. No doctors. It’s just the flu.”
“People die from the flu.”
“Whatever.” She lay back and closed her eyes. I knelt down and fixed the blankets over her, wishing I could stay and look after her.
“I’ll come back,” I told her as I moved towards the door.
“Princess?”
“Yeah?”
“Nice outfit.”
I smiled and shook my head and left her in the cold, damp room, worried already that something was going to happen to her. She was on the third floor; the demon was supposedly in the basement.
She would be fine.
“I take it she ain’t leaving?” Frank said when I met him in the hallway again.
“She’s sick. She can hardly move, poor thing.”
Frank didn’t look too concerned. “Nothing we can do then. Let’s go.”
A few moments later we reached the
basement stairs and I followed Frank down. It was colder than the rest of the building and I shivered when I got to the bottom of the stairs, as much from fear as from the temperature. The vampire incident was still fresh in my mind and I couldn’t help worrying that I’d end up in a similar situation again, only this time with a crazy demon who would probably kill me straight off.
Frank lowered his voice. “Stay sharp. Don’t hesitate to kill this thing if you get the chance. Stay close to me at all times.”
He sounded concerned. Maybe he didn’t want any more family deaths on his conscience. I nodded and took out my knife—the one that used to belong to my dad—and gripped it tightly, taking scant comfort in the fact that at least a part of my dad was with me in some way. That’s what I told myself anyway.
We ended up in a room that smelled like a sewer, water dripping off the ceiling and from leaky old pipes along the walls, making the floor wet and slippery. Frank led the way, flashlight in one hand, gun in the other. I followed behind him, shining my own flashlight around the room. One thing I didn’t mention to Frank was that I suffered from claustrophobia on occasion. In one of my first foster homes, the man of the house used to lock me up in a closet any time I did wrong in his eyes, which was all too often. He would leave me there for hours sometimes, in a small space with little air, cloaked in total darkness. It used to terrify me, to the point that I’d never gotten over it.
The basement, with its low ceiling and almost total darkness, brought those past feelings back. My chest tightened, my throat constricted, making it hard for me to breathe. I had to resist the urge to panic, to run back out again. The only thing that was tempering the panic was the Light Energy that pulsed in me, but not by much. Frank must have sensed my unease because he turned and shone the light at me. “You alright?”
“Fine,” I said nodding, trying to sound strong, not sure if I succeeded. I shook my head at my own weakness when Frank shone the light ahead of him again.
What kind of Watcher has claustrophobia?
Up ahead, the room narrowed into a corridor. It was all I could do to control my breathing as I moved along behind Frank in the confined space, darkness all around except for the thin beams of the flashlights. The smell in the air was getting worse as well. Like dead animals mixed with the now familiar sulfur smell.
