Casey grinned at her and then nodded toward the pool. Abby looked down and saw that the surface had bubbled and swirled and become a window, just as the giant coffee cup in the Hopper had. She found that she was looking down onto emerald hillsides populated by thirty or so workers. The people were moving unhurriedly through the plantations, picking berries as they went and lobbing them into the baskets that they had slung over their shoulders. It was a scene of peaceful industry set against a backdrop of fertile bliss: lush, green fields, the bright red coffee beans, and a pristine blue sky.
The demons swooped into the frame, flying on their leathery wings. There was no sound, but Abby could imagine the panicked screams of the workers, the shrieks of bloodthirsty delight from the raiding demons. Within minutes, the coffee fields were in flames. Abby watched as the demons systematically destroyed the workers, their houses and crops. The plantation workers ran hither and thither, trying to escape the marauders, but all of them were quickly incinerated by demons and their fiery spells.
“Well done, daughter,” Vassago said, resting one of his massive hands on her shoulder. “We couldn’t have found them without you.”
The spectacle that she had inadvertently caused played out in front of Abby’s eyes like a violent film. Within minutes, what had once been verdant and lush agricultural enterprise had been turned to ash.
Abby collapsed to her knees, the strength going out of her legs. Her head swam with the heat and the fumes of the demon lair, and with the knowledge that her sister had gone over to her father’s monstrous crew of maniacs.
With a sort of detached relief, Abby fell backward in a dead faint.
Chapter 12
When Abby awoke, she saw that Casey was leaning over her, a worried look on her face. It took a few seconds for the truth of what had happened to filter back into her consciousness, like memories percolating through filter paper, and then Abby sat bolt upright. The heat, now that she was conscious, enveloped her in its sticky embrace. It was so damn hot that as she sat up, she could feel the sweat running down her chest from where it had pooled in the hollow of her throat.
“There’s my little sister,” Casey said.
It was so confusing, having Casey chat to her as if everything was normal, but knowing that she had given herself over to the demons.
“You monster,” Abby said without any real acrimony in her voice. She looked around her. It seemed that they were in a cave. There were no windows. Judging by the stifling heat, they were under the ground.
“Come on, Abs,” Casey said, “you don’t have to be like that. I’m the same girl I’ve always been. The same girl that saw you get dragged out of my crummy apartment by that hunky cop guy – he was a hottie!”
“Um, no, you’re not the same girl, Casey,” Abby retorted. “My sister would never just tear a fucking cat in two and then watch impassively as a bunch of innocent people got roasted alive, you fucking raven-douche!”
Casey held up her hands. “Easy, easy!” she said. “Maybe you can let me explain before you go jumping down my throat.”
“What the hell happened to you, Case?”
Casey puffed out her cheeks and then sat down on the stone bed where Abby lay.
“I discovered my powers over a year before you were taken away, Abs. Maybe it was closer to two years, come to think about it. I had no one to guide me at first, no one to teach me. All I knew was that the more I used ‘em, the more I liked them. It must’ve been a couple of months after I first unlocked my supernatural abilities that our father found me.”
“Vassago?”
“Duh, who else?” Casey smiled, as if recalling a memory of particular sweetness to her mind. “At first I resisted him like you just did, but over time I grew to let Dad in. I let him train me – and I’m so glad that I did. He helped me unlock powers that I never even imagined I could have, Abs. When I think how weak and directionless my abilities were before our father lent me a hand…”
Abby, trying not to think how handy it would be to have someone show her how she could control her aimless supernatural abilities, said, “Lent you a claw, you mean.”
Casey seemed not to hear her. “I tell you, Abby,” she said, “when it finally falls into place and you realize how to harness your powers, and you start building your talents… It’s like a drug. You become addicted to seeing how far you can go.”
Abby shook her head. Everything about this conversation was too surreal. In an attempt to get it back into the realms of normalcy, she said, “But you’re a vet tech, Case. You were going to school for it.”
Casey grinned wolfishly. “Well, as you saw, I do like animals. But, even when you were still around, I wasn’t going to those classes every day. I was meeting with Dad, and he was training me – little by little – for over a year.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything to me? I’m your sister!”
“Vassago said that you weren’t ready, and that we needed to leave you in the dark in case the S.B.A. scooped you up – which they did.”
“And now look at you,” Abby said scathingly. “Such a badass that you can watch a bunch of innocent people burn up and not bat an eyelid. They’re your fellow humans, Casey.”
“Humans are weak,” Casey said dismissively. “Besides, sis, we’re not humans. We’re something different. Something better. Sure, we look like humans – thank the gods for that – but we have demonic blood running in our veins. All you have to do is learn to embrace it. And you will, given a little time and –”
Abby cracked her sister over the head with a bronze candle holder that stood beside the bed, and her sister went over like a falling oak.
With only the shortest regretful glance backward, Abby dashed out of the cave and into the tunnels that honeycombed the demon lair.
She ran blindly down the rough, undulating corridors, which mirrored the hallways back at the Supernatural Barista Academy in their crude design, and away from her sister. The passages were just as winding, just as confusing, branching off every which way. Abby chose when to change direction completely at random, hoping to somehow stumble upon a way out. Some of the passages that she attempted to go down forced her back, however; the heat was so intense that she could barely get twenty feet.
Behind her, mingled with the slapping sound of her footsteps, she could hear what sounded like the heavy tread and harsh laughter of demons in pursuit. She put her head down and sped up.
I need caffeine if I’m going to be able to fight my way out, she thought as she turned another corner. First though, I need to know where the hell I am. Maybe I should go back and try and convince my sister. Would Vassago let me just leave? He’s my father after all. Could I kill him?
Distracted by her thoughts, Abby was completely unprepared when the ground dropped away as she rounded a corner. She skidded to a halt just in time, her legs screaming as she rocked on her tiptoes over the abyss. Below her, she could see a river of bubbling, thick, scalding coffee flowing past. If she fell in, she’d be boiled alive.
Just as Abby felt gravity start to drag her over, a hand grabbed her by the collar and jerked her backward. She fell hard on her ass and looked up into the face of her sister.
“Come on, Abs,” she said in a flat voice, “enough of these silly games.”
Casey had a gash on her head from where Abby had struck her with the candle holder. When she saw Abby gazing at it, she reached a hand up and touched the blood. She looked at it and then daubed it on Abby’s cheek.
“Come on, sister,” she said. “We don’t want to hold Vassago’s feast up. Besides, you’re the guest of honor.”
***
Casey led Abby by the hand into the huge, echoing cavern that the demons used as a banquet hall. Behind Abby strode two demon guards holding long spears topped with wicked blades, which were etched with the symbol for caffeine—a not-so-gentle reminder that running would be an exercise in futility.
Abby took in the chamber as Casey led her to a large stone table in th
e middle. The walls and ceiling were punctuated with great slabs of obsidian, black and shimmering like the night air turned to stone. The walls reverberated the din of a demon heavy metal band that was raging out of control in one shadowy corner. Dozens and dozens of demons were head-banging, flinging their long arms into the air and dousing each other in caffeinated beverages.
The whole cavern was lit by the most massive chandelier that Abby had ever seen. It was crafted out of black iron, and each arm was bent and twisted into the form of a serpent, tipped with a human skull on which a candle was stuck. A few braziers also dotted the room, their flames adding to the insufferable heat and flickering light.
Along the walls were several cages, some of which housed ragged and moaning human beings. In a corner was an oversized pod coffee machine. There were three racks next to the machine, each holding a selection of different colored pods. The first rack was labeled ‘kittens,’ the second ‘puppies,’ and the third –
“Babies?” Abby breathed. As she watched, a couple of demons standing by the machine started cursing, clearly pissed that they were all out of baby capsules. The two started arguing with each other and then one of them grabbed a black capsule off the ‘kitten’ rack.
“Looks like they went for the dark roast,” Casey said casually.
One of the demons slotted the bucket-sized capsule into the machine and pulled a lever, placing his mug under the dispenser. There was a pitiful mewling from inside the capsule, a crunch, and the demon’s mug began to fill with what Abby guessed was a mixture of coffee and kitten.
Abby was pulled along by her sister until they reached the head of the great stone table. Vassago was, of course, sitting at the head, but there were a couple of empty chairs beside him, one of which Casey steered Abby into.
As if Abby needed another metaphorical kick in the guts, she looked down the table and saw Frederick from the Academy. Her initial reaction was that Frederick must’ve been captured too, but this was quickly dispelled by the way that the man was acting. He was cuddled up with a woman, flirting with her and touching her, pouring coffee into her mouth and then kissing her deeply so that the brown liquid spilled from the corners of both of their lips.
“I’d give a raven’s left nut to know what the fuck is going on,” Abby said to herself, catching Frederick’s eye. The man gave her a cocky nod and then turned away.
Abby jumped as Vassago banged his fist on the table to quiet the gathering. What with the heavy metal and the general noisy debauchery that was taking place around the hall, his call went unheeded by many. Abby saw the top of her father’s big, boulder-like head ignite into flames and his brow furrowed in annoyance. He slammed his fists on the table again and a three-foot crack shot down the solid stone surface with the sound of a gunshot.
“All right, you fucking raven-twats,” he roared, “settle the fuck down! Otherwise, I’m going to give you all a gasoline enema and blow your dumb asses to kingdom hell!”
Silence fell at once, a guitar solo dying in mid-strum. The demons were quiet for a moment, and then, as one, they raised the stone mugs and roared in approval. They all started taking their seats at the long stone table.
Vassago glanced at Abby as the other demons got seated. “Your brothers and sisters can be… well, you’ll get used to them.”
Abby doubted that.
And what did he mean by ‘brothers and sisters’? she thought. Please let him be speaking metaphorically.
Once the demons were as settled as a satanic horde could be, Vassago got to his feet.
“Tonight,” he said in a voice that was as deep and dark as a freshly dug grave, “we celebrate the reunion of my family and the arrival of Abby among us.”
There were some cheers from the demon audience.
“Tonight she takes her place alongside her sister, Casey, and together the three of us will lead all of you into a great, glorious, violent and bloody future!”
The demons erupted into raucous applause, stamping their feet and hammering their stone coffee mugs on the table.
“Nothing will stop us!” Vassago bellowed over the noise. He allowed the cheering to continue for a few seconds and then raised his hands for quiet. “I would like to congratulate and thank the devious Frederick for finding and verifying that Abby was, indeed, my daughter.” Vassago turned to Frederick and inclined his head. “You’re a deceitful snake of a man, Frederick, and I can offer no higher praise than that.”
Suddenly, Abby’s confusion cleared, as if she’d just been socked over the head with a block of understanding. The massage… My hair… The little son of a bitch was taking my DNA so that he could make sure I was who I said I was! That must mean –
As if he was giving voice to Abby’s thoughts, Vassago said, “Yes, not only did Frederick act as secretly as any spy could, he also destroyed the Supernatural Barista Academy’s emergency caffeine supply. With that gone and their coffee fields burned, the S.B.A. is defenseless.”
There was more cheering, which doubled when Abby got to her feet and charged down the table at Frederick. She managed to get one good slap in before Frederick had her in a bear-hug, her arms pinned to her side.
“I like it rough, you little bitch,” he hissed into her ear, “and so does my wife. We’re going to fuck the Ravencharm out of you later, just you wait and see.”
Abby broke from Frederick’s grip and stood staring daggers at him, her chest heaving with emotion.
Vassago was chuckling and looking at Abby with something akin to admiration in his eyes.
“My, my, Frederick, you’ve upset my daughter. How disrespectful of you. You’ve outlived your usefulness anyway.”
Vassago snapped his fingers and two guards leaped out of nowhere and pinned Frederick’s and his wife’s arms behind their backs.
“Now, you’re a very lucky chap, Frederick,” Vassago said gleefully, staring at Frederick’s stricken countenance, “and you have a lovely wife. She’s too lovely not to share.” He grinned an alligator grin and said, “So let’s all have a taste, eh?”
Frederick’s wife was led, screaming, over to a huge French press and tossed inside. She beat on the thick glass walls of the container while Frederick strained to free himself from the guards that held him. With great deliberation, Vassago pulled the lever on the machine. The solid iron plunger came inexorably down, forcing the woman to her knees and then into a fetal position. Then, with a final scream of terror and a horrifying and indescribable crunching noise, the poor woman was crushed.
Frederick screamed as his wife died, tears flooding down his face.
Vassago placed his mug to the end of a little duct that ran from the base of the large glass container and filled it with the straight blood that poured forth.
“Aaaah,” he said, appreciatively, “my favorite, O-negative!”
He looked down at the crumpled weeping man at his feet and then turned to Abby.
“Here is my gift to you, daughter,” he said. “You may have the pleasure of killing this one.”
Abby looked down at Frederick, at the man who, in the space of a heartbeat, had lost his wife and then been sentenced to die.
“Do it, Abby,” Vassago urged. “He’s a traitor. He betrayed you and the entire S.B.A.”
“He’s a piece of shit,” Abby said, “but I won’t be your executioner.”
Without warning, Abby was forced to her knees and a beaker of hot, pungent coffee forced down her throat.
“Embrace the power, Abby,” her father said. “Embrace it.”
Abby’s hands started to tremble and glow with a sudden power that the caffeine seemed to have unblocked within her.
“That’s it!” her father urged. “Turn the traitor to dust!”
Abby eyed Fredrick coldly, raised her hand and unleashed a burst of magic at him. At the last second, though, she diverted her hand and the bolt of energy struck a far wall, blowing a crater out of it in a shower of stone.
Abby looked defiantly at her father.
> “Hmm,” the demon king said, “that was disappointing. No matter, though. A time will come when you relish the taking of a life. Casey?”
Abby’s sister strode casually forward, pulling out a wicked-looking dagger as she did so. Without a moment of hesitation, she pulled back Frederick’s unresisting head by his hair and sliced through his neck with the confidence of a master butcher.
As Frederick fell to the ground, twitching in his final moments, the demons nearest to him gathered in and started to lap at the fresh blood. Then, as if taken over by bloodlust, they tore Frederick apart – limb from limb. Abby turned away so as not to witness the grisly sight, but she couldn’t hide from the sounds of tearing flesh and cracking bone.
“After this feast,” Vassago roared, holding up one of Frederick’s legs and throwing it down the table as if it were a ham, “we enter a new era! Tonight, we head to the S.B.A, to crush them for good!”
The demons screamed and yelled and roared with delight, passing around the pieces of Frederick, ripping into his flesh with their sharp teeth and sucking his entrails like spaghetti.
“Tonight,” Vassago declared, “the S.B.A. dies!”
***
After the hellish experience of sitting through the demon feast, Abby found herself once more with a mask over her head, being flown out of the secret demon lair. After about half an hour’s flight, she was set back down to earth and the mask removed.
“Look familiar?” Casey asked.
It did, of course.
Abby, Casey and their demon entourage were standing in the ruined midst of what had once been the café entrance of the Supernatural Barista Academy. In the waning light of dusk, the place looked even more forlorn than when Abby had last seen it in the depths of the magical mug of coffee.
Caffeinated Magic: Supernatural Barista Academy Page 17
