Sacrifice: The Demontouched Saga (Book 5)

by Douglas Wayne

  - 7 -

  “Wake up sleepy head,” Esther says, poking me with a stick.

  Out of instinct, I look at the clock on her wall to check the time and notice it is dead. Living without electricity will take some getting used to.

  “Are you always up this early?” I ask, yawning.

  “For the last ninety six years, yes.” She hands me another glass of sun tea and a can of those little sausages. I’m not usually a fan of the things, but my stomach is telling me not to argue. After I scarf down a few a I decide to get down to business.

  “Did you find the spell?”

  “Yes,” she says. She reaches to the coffee table next to her and pulls out a large, black leather-bound tome. On the front is a large golden tree in the middle of a brown circle. Not exactly the type of book you expect to find at the neighborhood library.

  She opens the book about three-quarters of the way through, stopping on a page burnt on the edges yet with most of the writing still intact.

  “This is a ritual we used to use to clear spirits out of houses back when the covenant was more active. It should work on your orbs as well.”

  “Sounds good,” I say. “What’s involved?”

  “Two things,” she says. “Blood from both an angel and a demon.”

  “One of those is easy,” Azrael says, walking in the room. “The other may be a little more difficult.”

  “We have a few thousand demons about two miles away,” I say. “I’m sure we can coax one away from the others.”

  Esther reaches over and pulls a short knife with a black wooden handle off of the counter. “We might have another option.”

  I stand up and take a few steps towards the door to get away. From the crazy look in her eyes I already know what she has planned.

  “It’s worth a shot,” Azrael says, blocking the door. “You need to remember we are on the clock. If we aren’t back in three days you may lose your chance to get Sara back.”

  I lower my head in defeat. Out of all the reasons there is to do it, that has to top my list. If getting cut is all it takes to get this done faster, I better just do it. Even now with three days left to go, the seconds are far too precious.

  “Just get it over with,” I say, holding my left arm out.

  “It is not time,” she says, pushing my arm down. “In order for the ritual to work it has to be done at noon or midnight. No exceptions.”

  I guess that definitely takes real demon blood out of the equation since it would be much easier to draw one out in the dark than it would be now.

  “Is there anything I can do to help you get ready?” I ask.

  She looks over at me with a wide grin. “I never thought you’d ask.”

  “How are you sure it’s almost noon?” I ask as I pace nervously on her freshly mowed lawn. I’m not so sure she needed me to cut the whole yard for her ritual, but I have to admit it beats having to stomp it down to walk.

  “When you get to be my age, things like time come naturally.”

  I admire the lie, but I swear she said that knowing I wouldn’t be able to test it.

  Esther steps out into the middle of the circle she had me draw in the dirt though I would have sworn she was going to handle it after my first two attempts at drawing a perfect circle failed. Times like this make me glad my powers don’t work like that. I don’t think I could handle being so precise all the time.

  She places her book at the center of the circle next to the orbs before making markings around the outer ring. Finally she polishes things off with another, smaller circle in the middle.

  “I need you to both stand in the smaller circle, facing me,” she says. “Once the ritual starts, you need to be silent or it may not work properly.”

  “This thing can fail?” I say, walking towards the middle.

  “Yes,” she says. “At the least it can fail to release the souls from the orbs. At worst…” She looks over at me concern in her eyes. “Our souls may end up trapped inside instead.”

  I nod my head. Failure I can handle, but a total reversal is another. If all I have to do is stand there and keep my mouth shut for a few minutes, I guess I can deal.

  Once we are in position, Esther raises her head to look up into the sky. “It is time.”

  The ritual starts with her humming a song I’ve never heard before. I’m sure it is necessary for the ritual, I just wish she wasn’t so off key.

  After nearly two minutes of the god-awful humming she switches into a chant. Thankfully her sense of rhythm is much better than her sense of sound because I don’t think I could put up a few more minutes oh her humming.

  Eventually she speaks a language I’ve never heard before before pulling out her knife. She motions for both of us to hold our hands out in front of her. Once they are in position she moves our arms so they are right above the orbs. I’m guessing so the blood drips down on them. From there she stops her chant momentarily to slice our forearms near the wrists. The cut isn’t particularly deep, or long, but the sharpness of the blade has me wincing as it passes over my skin.

  Holding in a grunt, I look down to notice our blood dripping on the orbs below. She moves our arms around to make sure both orbs are covered before resuming her chant. I watch in awe as the elderly woman dances and moves in ways I never thought her frail little body would manage. She is either hiding a secret from me or the spell is invigorating her. Either way I’m impressed.

  Suddenly, there is an orange flash of light followed by the sound of shattered glass. I look down, noticing a pile of rubble where the orbs once stood. From the debris, thousands of tendrils both white and shadowy, float in the air around our heads.

  Almost naturally, I open my mouth drawing the souls inside. It starts with a slow trickle at first but eventually turns into a torrent as the spirits flood into my body.

  I can feel my heartbeat raising the longer the spell goes on. I open my eyes to see a vast vortex of the spirits funneling directly into my open mouth. Instinct tells me to close it to keep the rest out, but something deep inside won’t allow it.

  Finally after a few minutes the last of the souls enters my body.

  I collapse to the ground immediately after.

  - 8 -

  “You still here?” Az says, fanning me with a paper fan.

  I open my eyes to find myself on Esther’s couch, confirming what my back was already telling me. Sitting up, I notice her kicking back in her recliner drinking a glass of her sun tea, leaving the fallen angel to tend to me.

  “I take it the ritual worked,” I say, wiping the sweat from my head.

  “How did you do that?” Esther says, sitting up abruptly in her chair. “We were supposed to be releasing the souls, not letting you consume them!”

  “I didn’t consume them,” I say, sitting up. “I’m a reaper.”

  “Reaper? In my house?” She stands up and moves to the kitchen though much slower than she was moving earlier today.

  “Easy,” Az says when I try to stand up. “You’ve been out cold for a while now. Need to make sure everything is OK.”

  “How long?” I say, looking out the front window to see nothing but sunshine and tall grass as far as my eyes can see.

  “One day,” he says. “Almost exactly.”

  That would explain a lot. Like why I feel so hungry right now or why I have this excruciating headache.

  “We should be fine. Still have two days left,” I say, rubbing my temples to ease the pressure.

  Azrael nods. “Yes, but we need to leave soon. As it stands, we won’t make it back to Uriel until near nightfall.”

  My stomach sinks at the news. He is right though. With my little nap we now only have one day before we recover Sara. Knowing Nal, most of that time will be spent going over plans and diagrams too.

  Once I think about it, maybe it isn’t such a bad thing we’re getting back so late. I might kill this headache before all that madness.

  “I guess now is as good a time as any,” I say, open
ing the door before turning back around. “Esther, thanks for your help.”

  She just nods, refusing to move an inch out of the kitchen. In front of her Az signals he will be ready in a moment leaving me to walk out to the car alone.

  I take a moment to admire the scenery before opening the car door. There is something to be said about living out in a place like this. While her closest neighbor lives a few hundred feet up the road, odds are they don’t ever bother her. Beyond that, you don’t have to worry about the hassle of traffic or a flood of people. I could see myself living in a place like this in another life. Saying God gives us another chance.

  Up ahead I notice a man wearing a pair of dirty blue overalls without a shirt on. Just the type of hillbilly you would expect in a place like this. I shake my head when I see he doesn’t have straw hanging from his mouth. He would fit the perfect image otherwise.

  “You aren’t from around here, are you?” he says, as he walks onto the gravel driveway.

  “Just visiting an old friend,” I say, taking a few steps back.

  “I just came to pick up ole Esther and take her to the celebration in town later tonight,” he walks closer and offers a hand. “You are more than welcome to join us.”

  “I have my own party to attend to,” I say, pulling my hand back. “I’m sure she has better things to do too.”

  Hillbilly laughs. “I know who you are. And why you are here.” He cracks his knuckles as he approaches. “I’m going to be taking her whether you like it or not.”

  A smile reaches my lips the moment he squares off. If the ole boy wants an old fashioned scrap, he is about to be disappointed.

  I run forward, kicking the man in his over-sized gut causing him to stagger back a few steps. Not wanting to give him a moment to think about his next move, I rush in to follow it up with a punch to his jaw. Pain flares from my hand as the bones in my knuckles crack from the impact. Either Hillbilly here has an iron jaw, or he has his own secrets to hide.

  “Like that, boy?” he says, rubbing his jaw. “Bet you weren’t expecting that?”

  I’m not going to lie, it didn’t feel good. But I can’t imagine it is going to feel as good as what I’m about to do to him.

  I can’t imagine that hillbilly here is human, so I pull out my knife in one hand and my sword in the other. Call it a hunch, I won’t be punching him again to make sure.

  “Let’s dance,” I say rushing forward, swinging the sword at a wide arc towards his head only to have him block my blow with his forearm. Not wanting to relent I stab him in his big gut with my knife.

  Being close to a man his size has definite disadvantages. They become clear when he punches me in the chest with his extremely large meat hooks. Thankfully they don’t feel like they are made of iron though it doesn’t make the blow hurt any less.

  After taking the punch, I step back a few feet wanting to put room between us. Since I now know this guy can bleed thanks to the trail of blood he is leaving with every step, I know I can handle the rest of this from range.

  Hillbilly, wanting to close the gap, moves in close to my car so I do what any self-respecting fighter would do. I use my power to open the door and slam it into his gut.

  From there I launch my knife at the man while his attention is diverted. The blade pierces his coveralls right above where I believe his bellybutton would be. Not a killing blow to a man his size, but it was one I could make work.

  When he reaches down to pull the knife out of his gut I flick my hands upward, allowing the blade to slice through the rest of his belly, directly into his heart.

  Hillbilly stares at me for a moment until his brain finally registers the killing blow. Once that happens, the big man crashes into the front clip of my ride, putting a large dent in it on his way down to the ground.

  I sigh at the large crater in my front fender but shrug it off. If things end up going down the way I think they are, I won’t be around to drive it for too much longer anyways.

  Besides. It is still fully functioning with the dent. Just doesn’t look pretty.

  “You good?” Az says walking out the door.

  I nod, turning around to notice the body in his arms. Esther.

  “What the hell happened?” I ask, running over.

  “Three guys broke through the back door,” he says looking at the woman. “They wanted her.”

  After the ritual yesterday, I think I know why. “Is she OK?”

  He shakes his head, tears visible in his eyes. “I don’t think she is going to make it.”

  I walk over to the pair to take a better look. When I get close, Esther opens her eyes and reaches out to grab my hand.

  “I’m sorry I ran,” she says. “I knew it was my time when you said you were a reaper.”

  “What does me being a reaper have anything to do with what happened to you?”

  She smiles, a single tear cascades down the wrinkles in her pale skin. “You only see a reaper before they come to take you home.”

  Esther releases her grip on my hand before using it to caress Azrael’s face. “I will see you soon,” she says. The angel replies by bending forward to give her a kiss. Once they are done the woman looks over at me and nods. “I’m ready.”

  - 9 -

  “Thank you,” Az says finally after our nearly four hour drive. I don’t think I would have cared about the lack of conversation if there was a radio station to listen too. I’ve been meaning to see if there were any CDs left in one of the stores, but haven’t had the time. It was probably for the best though, it gave me some time to think about the seriousness of what we are facing.

  “I’m glad we got to her in time,” I say. “Can’t imagine life would have been pleasant for her if we didn’t.”

  “They would have used her to release all the souls,” he says, tears forming from his eyes once again. “Then they would have killed her.”

  “At least she got to see you one last time,” I say, as we approach the gate.

  Out front I see Stevens talking to a group of soldiers off to the side. Apparently he borrowed a play from the last group we raided and had the surrounding woodland chopped down to give the guards on the wall a clear view of anyone approaching. He waves at us when he sees the car approach.

  “Everything is ready to leave tomorrow,” Stevens says, leaving into the window.

  “Tomorrow?” I say. “I thought we had another day yet.”

  “Malachi said something changed while you were gone. Whatever you did has them stirred up.”

  Great. Nothing like getting thrust into a shit storm the moment you get back. I was getting used to Nal giving me the long version of his attack plans too. I guess tonight I have to settle with the Cliff’s Notes so I don’t screw too much up.

  Stevens back up, motioning to the soldiers at the gate to open it up. From there we make the slow trek to Uriel’s house.

  “They must have picked up a few people since we left,” Azrael says, pointing out the massive crowd of people inside the walls.

  “No. These were people that stayed outside of the walls. In one of the satellite communities.”

  Az stops the car before he hits a couple that wanders out into the middle of the street. “Why would they want to do that?” he says, looking over at me.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I guess they wanted to feel free.”

  After spending five minutes to go two blocks, Az parks the car about a block away from Uriel’s place. I was with him at that point. I could have made the trip by foot a dozen times over in the time we already spent in the car.

  “What’s going on?” I say to Nal when I walk through the door.

  “We’ve been under constant attack since you left. Most of the nearby communities are gone. Survivors have been trickling in all day.”

  I sit down on the couch across from him. “We lose many?”

  “Not yet,” he says. “They have been testing our defenses though.”

  “That explains the trees.”

  He no
ds. “I’m glad to have you back though.”

  “Glad to be back.” I look down at maps he has laying on the table. “That doesn’t look like St. Louis.”

  “It’s not,” he says, pulling the corner from under the stack and revealing the word Chicago in large letters.

  “What’s up there?” I say curiously.

  “Sara.” He grabs a yellow envelope lying underneath the stack of maps and hands it over to me.

  “Nancy?” I ask.

  “Open it.”

  I break the seal on the envelope and pull out the paper within. From what I can see it is definitely written using Nancy’s handwriting, but the similarities stop there.

  Mitch,

  If you hope to save Sara, you must hurry to Chicago before Thursday. Your actions down south have sent the demons into a frenzy. In response, they sent her into Chicago to challenge Michael. They know Israfil doesn’t have the power to take down an angel as powerful as him, but they can’t risk you being in St. Louis when they open the portal. You have time to find her in the city before she issues her challenge, but you must leave tonight.

  Malachi

  I rub my chin, contemplating the words on the note. Why would they want Israfil free just to send him north to die by Michael’s hand?

  “Does yours say what I think it does?”

  “Chicago?”

  Nal nods. “Nancy told me they want to split us up. Specifically get you out of the picture. They figure they can keep you busy up in Chicago long enough for them to open the portal.”

  “They would make me choose,” I say, putting my face into my hands. I hate being thrust into this position, but I guess I asked for it. The only sensible solution is to let Sara go, stay down here in St. Louis and keep the portal from opening. But my heart won’t allow the rational solution. It wants me to drop everything now and make the four hour trip up 55.

  “I know how you feel,” he says, sitting next to me on the couch. “Just so you know. I stand by whatever decision you make.”