by R. J. Wolf
THE FALLEN
HOTEL CALIFORNIA
BOOK TWO
By RJ WOLF
Copyright © 2018 by RJ Wolf
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without the expressed written consent of the author.
“Hell is empty, all the devils are here.”
~Shakespeare~
CHAPTER 1
DINER OF DREAMS
Eric pulled open the glass door and stepped to the side to let Gary pass him. “Age before beauty,” he said with a grin.
“That’s cute.”
Gary walked into the quaint diner on sunset boulevard and picked out a table all the way at the back. He waved at the waitress as he passed her, a tiny blonde elf named Daisy, then slid into the booth and pretended to scan the menu.
The few patrons inside had chosen equally inconspicuous seats and cast wary glances any time the door swung open. The city was on edge and Little Bruce Sandwich Shop had never been known for its friendliness.
The sound of grease popping echoed from the back. The smell wafted through the air and mixed with cigarette smoke from an aging woman in the corner. Daisy gave her an evil look then grabbed a stack of menus.
“You should just go talk to her,” Eric suggested. “She looks sixteen, but she was probably born in the sixteenth century. This little sparring you guys do every Saturday is getting old.”
Gary ruffled his thinning hair and slicked back his wild eyebrows. He attempted to straighten his suit jacket, but the thing was likely cursed with some kind of eternal dingy spell. If appearances were everything, Gary had nothing.
“It’s not my style,” Gary replied and dipped his head as the elf started their way.
“You don’t have a style.”
“Hey Gary! Hello Eric,” Daisy said with a wide smile and set the menus onto the table. “Two black coffees?”
“You got it,” Eric replied. “You know, it’s Gary’s birthday today?”
Gary shot a leg out and jabbed it into Eric’s knee from beneath the table. Eric cringed and hunched forward as he bellowed a throttled groan.
“Oh really?” Daisy said in excitement, completely ignoring Eric’s pain. “I’ll have to bring you something special then.”
“It’s not really my birthday Daisy. Eric’s just a child.”
Daisy smiled and brushed her hand across Gary’s shoulder. “I’ll still bring you something special.”
She turned and walked off with Gary’s eyes stuck to her. Her waist swayed from side to side, her heels clicking across the linoleum like a hypnotizing metronome. Fairy’s had an intoxicating presence and could woo a man with the best of them, but Daisy didn’t need to use a charm to have Gary smitten.
Eric laughed then nudged Gary on the arm. “Yeah, you should definitely go talk to her. Otherwise she’s gonna take out a restraining order, you stalker.”
“Okay, okay. Stop messing around, we’ve got business to take care of,” Gary said and straightened his face.
“Who is this guy we’re meeting anyway and who carries demon tears around?”
“A demon.”
Eric gawked and raised his hands. “What in the hell?”
“Exactly,” Gary laughed.
Eric’s face turned to stone and he narrowed his eyes. “I’m serious, Gary. You’re bringing a demon here?”
“Well, he’s not YOUR demon, and the shade’s not open yet. Besides, it’s California, this place is full of demons. You know the cashier at Ralph’s? Demon. The girl over at Kroger that’s always super friendly…demon. This place is overflowing with bad actors and darkkin, so don’t be too surprised. If he can get us what we need, that’s all that matters, right?”
Eric took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. Thoughts of fire and whispers in the shadows came to life in his head. He could feel his dark side trembling with elation, eager to meet Gary’s demon contact.
It’d been that way since they got to California. He was sharing space with a monster, begging to get out and explore. The shade wasn’t just thinning, it was calling out to Eric.
“I just didn’t know that when the Oracle said we needed demon tears, she meant that literally,” he said.
“It’s not actual demon tears. It’s some, some kind of liquid only demons can make, and they make it in hell.”
“This just keeps getting better.”
“We do what we have to I guess,” Gary shrugged then turned and stared out of the window at the rows of palm trees across the street.
Blinding rays flickered through the leaves as the sun started to fall into the horizon. The air swayed as heat vapors rose from the ground, distorting his vision. Somewhere in the distance there was an evil force at work, stretching its arms, reaching out to pull the curtains and expose everything. It was that threat he feared the most.
Soon night would come, and the streets would spring to life. Once the sun no longer cast its powerful beams, the true face of the city crawled from beneath the rocks. Los Angeles was a special place, underworlders owned the night and it was the zeroes who hid or tried to stay out of the way.
Daisy set a cup of coffee on the table and Gary jumped, nearly knocking the steaming liquid into his lap. Blushing, he half stood then sat back down as he tried to play it off. There were some things that even his magic couldn’t overcome.
“Sorry Gary. Didn’t mean to startle you,” she said.
“No problem. I was just daydreaming.”
“Well don’t do too much of that. My granny says it steals your soul.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So just the coffee, or you guys gonna actually eat something this time?”
“This is good for now.”
Daisy flashed a quick smile then reached for the menus, making sure to brush against Gary when she did. He looked up at her and she flickered her deep, purple eyes then walked off.
“Yeah…nothing going on there at all,” Eric said as she headed back into the kitchen.
“Worry about your love life,” Gary snapped then took a sip of coffee. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
With an ominous jingle, the door swung open and Gary looked up. A short man with wild, spiky hair and a nose ring walked inside and turned to face him. They locked eyes and the man nodded and scuttled toward them.
“Gary,” the man said in a groggy voice.
“Neiman,” Gary replied and slid over.
Neiman looked around the diner with jittery eyes then held up a small bag and squeezed into the booth beside Gary. With the bag in his lap, he interlaced his crooked fingers and clenched them tightly, trying to disguise his nervous trembling.
“Coffee for your friend?” Daisy asked, appearing at his side.
“No!” Neiman growled.
“He won’t be here long,” Gary explained.
Daisy shot him a concerned look then turned and walked away. Neiman smiled then dropped his guard as Eric bore into him.
“So, you’re a demon?” Eric asked.
Neiman swallowed and squirmed in his seat. “Can we hurry this up?”
Gary stared at him for a few minutes in silence. “Did you bring what we asked for?”
“Did you bring w
hat I asked for?”
Gary reached into his pocket and pulled out a manila envelope. He placed it on the table and slid it toward Neiman.
“This is all of it?” Neiman asked as he reached out and grabbed the envelope.
“It’s all that you’re gonna get.”
Neiman opened the package and thumbed through a few tattered pieces of paper. His eyes shuddered with excitement then he frowned and looked up to Gary.
“I asked for more.”
Gary laughed. “Greed…one of the seven deadly sins, Neiman. But trying to extort a commission agent, well that’s worse.”
“Extortion!” Neiman barked. He lowered his head as people stared toward their booth. “You know what I had to do to get these? I just barely made it out,” he finished in an angry whisper.
“You belong there, so don’t tell me your sob story. Take your names, claim your souls and be happy I don’t shackle you with iron.”
Neiman looked over the list again and licked his lips. Five tainted souls that he could feed on was better than none. But it was a far cry from the twenty he’d named as his price.
“Commission agent,” Neiman repeated. “You may want to reconsider that.”
“What’s that?” Eric asked.
Growling, Neiman grabbed his bag and stood up. He turned to leave, but Gary gripped his arm tightly and pulled back.
“I think you forgot something,” Gary jabbed.
Neiman looked out of the corner of his eye then reached into his bag. He pulled out a small brown jar and sat it onto the table.
“Forget my number warlock,” he seethed then turned and left.
“Well, that went as expected,” Eric said then grabbed the bottle and held it up. “Can we even trust this demon?”
He shook the jar from side to side then watched as it settled. The liquid inside was clear and could’ve been water if not for the evil radiating from the bottle. Huffing, he grabbed the stopper and started to pull it off, but Gary grabbed his hand.
“Are you crazy!”
“What?”
“It’s demon tears! You let this out in here and you might as well set off a bomb.”
Eric shrugged and sat the bottle back onto the table. “How else will we know if it works?”
“We’ll find out…but not in here.”
Daisy sat a plate of cake between them and grinned. “Weird friend you got, Gary,” she said and refilled their coffee. “Kinda creepy.”
“He’s not a friend. What’s the cake for?”
“It’s your something special,” Daisy replied then started to twirl her golden locks around her finger. “So, there’s a show next week at the Roxy Theatre. I was thinking maybe you could take me to it?”
Gary beamed then started to reply but looked back toward the door as the sound of screeching tires wailed. A black truck swerved across the road and rode up onto the sidewalk, crashing into a street sign. With the engine revving, the truck backed up then straightened and sped off.
“Whoa!” Gary blurted as he jumped up and rushed outside.
Eric followed right behind him. They raced into the street and found Neiman, twisted and broken in the middle of the road. Black ichor poured from his ears, shards of fractured bone tore through his skin. The remaining flesh was rubbed raw from the asphalt, glistening under the sun as plasma oozed from the wounds.
“Ta…take, take it,” Neiman stammered in a quivering voice and tried to move his broken arm toward his bag.
Eric looked down at the tote laying a few feet from Neiman’s disfigured limb. The tan satchel had been ripped open and diamonds spilled from the top. He reached out to grab one, but Gary lunged at him and yanked him back.
“No!” he yelled.
“What? It’s just diamonds.”
“Those aren’t just diamonds,” he replied and grabbed Neiman by the collar. “Why do you have these? Answer me!”
Neiman coughed blood into the air and his beady pupils rolled into his head. Gary shook him, but it didn’t matter. With a rattled groan, his face went slack, and his eyes faded to an abysmal black. Gary lowered his head to the ground just as he burst into ash and fluttered away in the wind.
“What the hell was that?” Eric asked.
“Demons don’t die. They return to hell,” he replied then grabbed Neiman’s bag.
Whispering a spell, he swept his hand and the spilled diamonds floated back inside and he fastened the clasp. With a quick look around, he jumped to his feet and headed back toward the diner.
“Oh my God, Gary,” Daisy cried. “Your…your friend.”
“Daisy, forget you saw this okay?”
“What? I need to call someone, right? You know, the people that deal with this.”
“There’s nothing to deal with. He’s gone. Just forget about this. I’ll explain later.”
Daisy looked around nervously then shrugged. “I…I, I don’t know, Gary. We’re supposed to report this kind of stuff, right?”
“I need you to trust me right now. You trust me, don’t you?” Gary flashed a quick smile.
She stared back toward the diner then down at the empty spot where Neiman once lay. “Okay, Gary. I trust you.”
He grinned and rubbed her arm. “Go back inside. We’ll get this out of here.” Hesitantly, Daisy shuffled back into the diner, casting glances over her shoulder. Gary followed her with his eyes then clutched the bag and hurried to the parking lot.
“You gonna tell me about these diamonds or what?” Eric called after him.
“Yeah…when we get outta here,” Gary replied as he opened the car and sat down. “Hurry up and get in, we need to get a hold of Noll.”
CHAPTER 2
RISE OF THE BROTHERHOOD
“You understand the importance of this Fostu, what’s at stake?” a voice grumbled from the shadows.
Fostu, a man with paper-white skin and no hair looked into the mist and nodded. He was dressed in a thick, black robe with a small camping bag slung across his shoulder. His red eyes flickered, reflecting the light from a passing car. Cringing, he pulled the black hood tightly over his head then stared down the sidewalk as he inhaled the night.
The air smelled different from what he remembered. It wasn’t as pure as it used to be, too many different fragrances, too many foreign scents, polluted the breeze. He coughed out a deep breath and grumbled his displeasure.
“This is your target,” the dark slithered in a hushed tone, offering a small photo.
Fostu took the picture and looked it up and down. “Eric Strange,” he whispered then set flame to the black and white photo.
“He’s at the hotel now. You’ll only have one chance at this. Be mindful of the warlock and do not underestimate him.”
“I understand,” he replied.
“If you fail—”
“I won’t fail,” Fostu cut him off.
“If you fail,” the shadow spoke again. “It will not only mean your end, but the end for us all.”
Fostu nodded and withdrew a shimmering, arced dagger from his bag. The hilt was made of ivory and interlaced with gold. The blade thrummed like a tuning fork, reflecting even the smallest amount of light into a dazzling spectacle.
“Valesi will not fail me,” Fostu said and raised the blade into the air.
With even the slightest movement, the blade sang. The tune was death, a screeching ballad that whistled as he carved their mark through the air. When he was finished, he tucked the knife into its scabbard and hung it from a belt around his waist.
“For the brotherhood,” they both mumbled in unison then Fostu turned and walked off.
He marched down the sidewalk for a few until the lights and bustle from the city faded. The streets fell silent and he quickened his pace as the night called to him. He made his way deeper into the darkness then turned and walked into a cloud of fog that apparated him to the other side of the city.
With a whoosh, he reappeared outside of an archaic looking hotel. Most would’ve avoided the
place, but he was exactly where he needed to be. With a stoic face, he pushed open the doors and stepped into the lobby.
It’d been decades, nearly a century but nothing had changed. The place was still as impressive and nefarious as ever. The lobby was awash with flames that danced and swayed from side to side. The succubus banged her song of horror and melancholy on the keys of a bereft piano. The darkkin were thriving and they would only grow stronger.
Fostu stood to the side, watching as the hall buzzed with life. The thinning shade had brought all form of underworlder to the hotel. The brotherhood warned him of the difficulty, but unlike any other gathering, this time was different. This time everything was in place and the darkkin were poised to bring about the revolution they’d been promising for centuries.
“It’s mine,” a lycan growled and shoved one of his brethren away.
He was a hefty black man with thick, stubby fingers and dark, greasy hair. His face was deformed and awkwardly angled as he started to turn.
The other lycan hit the wall and growled. He rubbed his bony fingers over his bald head and licked his lips.
“What’s yours, belongs to the pack!” he snapped.
A vampire in the corner cleared his throat and both men glanced his way. They stared at him for a moment then lowered their eyes and went in separate directions.
Slinking his head, Fostu removed his hood and stepped toward the front desk. A tall, lean man with charcoal skin and beaming red eyes glared at him and cracked a weak smile.
“Welcome to the Hotel California,” the man said in a deep, commanding voice. “My name is Safron. How long will you be staying with us?”
“As long as the job takes,” Fostu replied.
Safron nodded and handed him a black key card. “Room one-thirteen in our Irkalla wing, it’s perfect for someone in your profession.”
~~~**~~~
Gary pulled into the parking lot just as the sun said its final goodbyes. The bag of diamonds hummed in the backseat, awakened by the hotel’s aura. Eric turned and looked back as whispers of evil reached out for him. He’d been hearing them the entire ride, but now they were getting stronger.
