Death And Darkness

by E. A. Copen

  Stefan crossed his arms. “There’s a supernatural virus on the verge of shutting down the city, an evil parasite from a dimension of pure darkness is trying to kill you, and your biggest concern is who’s dating your daughter?”

  I swallowed a mouthful of rum straight from the bottle and put it down. “Believe me, once you meet Finn, you’ll understand. She could do better.”

  A car horn blasted outside.

  I raised the bottle and chugged a little more. “That’d be him.”

  “Stefan, why don’t you go help them bring him in?” Josiah suggested.

  Stefan nodded and went out the door.

  Josiah sat on the stool next to me. “What are your priorities here, Laz?”

  I offered Josiah the bottle. “What do you mean?”

  He poured himself a glass. “I mean with this Knight of yours. Regular exorcisms are dangerous, and they don’t always work. This one carries even more risk since I’m assuming your knight is fae? I don’t work on many of those. Plus, the thing I’ve got to try and pull out of him isn’t your standard demon. This is going to be a rough one. I need to know if you want that thing out of him at any cost, or if there are lines I’m not allowed to cross.”

  “Speaking of cost,” I said, taking back the bottle.

  Josiah held up a hand. “I don’t need the cash. You’re doing me a favor by giving me something to do other than sit around with my thumbs up my arse. It’s on me.”

  I blinked. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Josiah? Did you just say you’d work for free?”

  He grunted and rolled his eyes. “Must be getting bloody soft. Almost like I’m starting to give a damn about humanity or something.”

  The door swung open and Finn and Stefan carried in a struggling Foxglove. They put him in the single chair left in the center of the room. He immediately got up and bolted for the door only to find Remy standing in his way, her sword drawn. Running into her slowed him down enough that Finn was able to grab him by the collar of his shirt and drag him back to the chair.

  “Do whatever it takes,” I said.

  “You understand extreme methods may be required? Potentially fatal methods.”

  I nodded.

  Foxglove tried to wriggle away while Stefan was cuffing one hand to the chair. Finn punched him in the nose, stunning him so that Stefan could secure his other arm.

  Josiah studied the scene with the interest of a hawk watching a field mouse play and downed the rum in a single gulp. He slammed the glass back onto the bar and rose, adjusting his jacket. “Right then. Time to introduce myself.”

  Stefan and Finn finished securing him and stepped back.

  Josiah tore the duct tape from Foxglove’s mouth. “G’day, Dickhead.”

  Mask rolled Foxglove’s head back toward Josiah and smiled. “And who are you? Another idiot who thinks he’s more powerful than me?”

  “Why don’t you come out of Sir Foxglove here and we’ll see who’s more powerful?” Josiah spread his arms wide. “I’m right here, asshole. Come and get me. Oh, that’s right. You’re a parasite, little more than a worm. You wouldn’t last a minute out here without your human shield.”

  “No, thanks. I like it in here. It’s comfortable.”

  His hands shot forward and he gripped Foxglove’s forehead. “I’m about to change that.”

  Mask gritted his teeth. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

  Over the next few hours, Josiah chanted and prayed. He pulled tool after tool from the array laid out on the bar to ring bells and press silver knives to Foxglove’s head. He even tried iron. None of it worked. Mask laughed and spat at him the entire time.

  While he worked, I poured drinks for me, Finn and Stefan. Remy paced the perimeter of the room, arms crossed, her face hard as steel. When she passed close by, I grabbed her arm and tried to get her to sit with us.

  “Might as well relax, kid,” I told her. “He’s just getting started.”

  She pulled her hand free and sighed. “How long does this normally take?”

  “Hours,” said Stefan, “if you’re lucky. Days if you’re not. Your dad’s right. Josiah’s only going through the opening act. Things will get worse before they get better.”

  “Say all this works. Then what?” Finn stared into his drink. “You’re hoping he has information, that he remembers where he left the missing Speaking Stone. What if he doesn’t remember where he took it? Or what if the Speaking Stones don’t help?”

  Remy uncrossed her arms. “They worked before, in Shadow.”

  “Sort of. They destroyed that particular avatar of Mask’s, but he was still able to retain a foothold. He crawled into Foxglove, after all.” Finn raised his glass to Foxglove before downing it. “We dealt a major blow, but we’re still a long way from kicking him out of Faerie completely. And we don’t even know what worked in Faerie will work here. Earth could be totally different.”

  “Well, if anybody’s got any better ideas, I’d like to hear them.” I tipped the bottle to pour Finn another drink, but nothing came out. “Dammit, we’re out of rum.”

  “Probably a good thing.” Remy took the empty bottle from me and placed it behind the counter. “Why don’t we just find Mask’s avatar on Earth and kill it? Doing that freed the people of Shadow from his control. There’s no reason to believe it won’t work here.”

  I looked at Finn. “Do you know how to find him?”

  He shook his head.

  “That’s why,” I said to Remy. “Foxglove is our only chance at getting some answers, answers we need dead or alive.”

  Her eyes widened, and her face paled.

  I realized my mistake just a moment later. That wasn’t supposed to slip out. “Remy, I know you and Foxglove are close, but we’ve got to think about the bigger picture. If we don’t stop Mask, more people are going to suffer and probably die. I don’t want Foxglove to die. No one does. But if he does, I can still talk to his shade and get the answers we need.”

  She slumped into the seat two down from me, staring at her hands. “We don’t even know what he wants. Why is he doing this?”

  “I don’t know.” I moved a seat down to put my arm around her. “We’ll get our answers, Remy. I promise.”

  Josiah kicked over Foxglove’s chair and stormed away, his white shirt soaked with sweat. He drew a hand through messy hair and pushed up his sleeves. “This is getting me nowhere,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. “Have to try something else. You three wouldn’t have any additional information that might help would you?”

  Remy leaned forward to look at Finn who shrugged. “We told you everything we knew. I don’t know what more you want from us.”

  Stefan slipped behind the bar and dropped a few ice cubes in a glass before drowning them in bourbon. “I can look if you want. Maybe I can find something useful.”

  “Nah.” Josiah took a handful of napkins to mop up the sweat on his forehead. “Not for this, Stefan, though a general look might not be a bad idea, just to get a better feel for what we’re in for.”

  Stefan nodded and held the drink out to Josiah.

  He took it and chugged it, his gaze settling on Remy. “What’s he to you?”

  “He’s…” Remy trailed off and glanced at Finn again.

  Josiah snapped his fingers. “Look at me, love, not him. You clearly care about the poor bastard; otherwise you wouldn’t be pacing and breathing down my neck like you have been. So, out with it. Why do you care so much?”

  “Foxglove raised me. Taught me everything I know about fighting and surviving. He was my only friend for most of my life.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” Josiah handed Stefan the empty glass. “The next things I have to try won’t be easy to watch. Laz, you should take your daughter out of here.”

  Remy jumped to her feet. “I won’t leave him alone!”

  I took her hand. “He won’t be alone, Remy. I’ll be here with him.”

  Remy gave me a pleading look while I
gestured for Finn to come over. I fought to keep my heart from breaking. I knew she wanted to be there, and I would’ve given her the moon if she asked for it, but I couldn’t let her stay, not knowing how Josiah was when he worked. She’d lose it if things got rough, which they inevitably would.

  Finn hopped off the pool table where he was waiting and came over to put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Remy. We need to let him work.”

  I went behind the bar to grab the key hanging on a nail. “There’s a room upstairs.” I slapped the key into Finn’s outstretched hand. “Make sure she gets some rest.”

  He nodded and pulled away from me, but I held onto his hand until he looked back at me.

  “No funny business, Finn.”

  Finn smirked. “Who? Me? Never.”

  Something pulled at my gut, watching the two of them walk away. Remy was an adult. It wasn’t my place to intervene anymore. It wasn’t going to stop me from acting in her best interests. Was trying to keep her and Finn apart really the best thing for her? Maybe she really cared about him, and he wasn’t the sneaky player I thought he was. And maybe Mask would hop out of Foxglove if we asked nicely.

  Josiah tugged on his shirt collar. “Those two going to be a problem?”

  “No. Just try to keep Foxglove alive if you can. He and Remy are really close.”

  “I can’t give guarantees,” he said, popping the first button loose.

  Mask snickered. “Killing him won’t save him. This body is mine, alive or dead.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Josiah clicked open a switchblade with several glowing designs on the handle. With his other hand, he sparked a fistful of blue angel fire. “Hold his head still for me, Laz.”

  “Me?” I squeaked out and cleared my throat. “I mean…Sure.” I pushed up from the barstool. The world spun, and my stomach dropped. Maybe I’d had more rum than I thought.

  I might not have walked a straight line to the chair where Foxglove was tied, but I got there. He shook his head left and right, trying to throw my grip until I dug my fingers into the side of his face at his jaw.

  He gritted his teeth as Josiah came close. “Nothing you do can save him. Even if you do break my hold, there are hundreds more just like him in Faerie, here in this city. I’m everywhere, in everything. You can’t win.”

  Josiah smirked. “That’s the thing about me, mate. I don’t give a shit if I win if I get to inconvenience bastards like you on my way out. I’m in it for the thrill. Funny thing about you twats from the Nightlands. You live in darkness all day long. Makes you hate the light.”

  Mask shied away as Josiah thrust the fire at him. I held his head firmly.

  Josiah passed the blade through the fire. “Hold him steady. Don’t let him go, no matter what.”

  When the blade was glowing red hot, Josiah pressed the point of it to the center of Foxglove’s forehead. The scent of burning flesh made my stomach turn. Mask screamed. I fought the urge to turn away.

  “Stop!” The voice that came out of Foxglove was his own, not Mask’s. “God, stop it! You’re killing me!”

  But Josiah didn’t stop. Not when he begged, bargained, or wept. When the blood was too thick to work through, Stefan passed him some napkins from the bar. Josiah paused to mop up the blood, warmed up the knife again and got back to it.

  The symbol he cut into Foxglove’s forehead was complex with lots of lines, arrows, and bits of script that almost looked Arabic to me, but I wouldn’t know Arabic from Cuneiform. Not my specialty. It felt like it took hours. By the time he finished carving the design, my legs were numb and my arms ached from holding his head in place.

  Josiah wiped the blade clean and set it aside before shaking out his hands. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth and pulled out his lighter. “You can let him go. We’re ready for the fun part.”

  Mask flashed a set of bloody teeth. “What now? Another exorcism in another language? A pretty poem, maybe?”

  He lit his cigarette and flipped the lighter closed. “Now I summon a grand marquis of Hell to kick your arse.”

  Mask’s eyes widened, but he didn’t have time to react before Josiah pinched the cigarette between two fingers on his left hand and slammed the palm of his right against the design he’d just carved. “I invoke the name of Marchosias, grand marquis of Hell and commander of thirty legions. With this blood, I bind you and command you to do battle with the beast inside.”

  Mask immediately began thrashing, fighting against the chains that bound him to the chair. He arched his back, somehow managing to bend his body into a nearly standing position, despite being tied down. Inhuman growls and curses in some black language I couldn’t begin to grasp fell out of his mouth as he fought, and still Josiah held his palm against his bloody forehead.

  I backed away until I hit the bar. Over the years, I’d seen some terrifying magic. I’d walked through Hell and called up spirits of the dead, magic considered taboo by even some of the most open practitioners. Yet, I’d never seen someone deliberately call a demon to possess someone. The very idea felt wrong. I told myself Josiah knew what he was doing, he was an expert and I was just a casual observer. That’s why I’d called him, wasn’t it?

  I didn’t call him to start summoning demons. My fingers tightened around the edge of the bar. This might be too far.

  Stefan put a hand on my shoulder. “Hard to watch, isn’t it?”

  I turned my back to the scene and leaned on the bar, nodding.

  “He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t think it would work.”

  “I know.” I put my head in my hands and tried to block out the sounds. “I just never pictured myself being a part of anything like this.”

  “Me either. Six months ago, getting high and watching porn was the highlight of my day.” He put a glass of something dark in front of me and lifted one himself. “My biggest worry in the world was keeping track of my kid sister. She was always getting herself in trouble. I told her she needed to get off the street. She didn’t need to do that, you know? The organization would’ve taken care of her. She didn’t want that, though. Wanted to take care of herself. That stubbornness cost my sister her life.” He drained his glass and refilled it.

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugged. “Well, you won’t be sorry to hear that Josiah nearly destroyed the entire organization to get to her killer. We did everything we could to take him down, but it just didn’t work out. He’s out there somewhere, healing. Planning his next move.” He shook his head and took another drink. “If calling up a few demons would’ve saved my sister, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

  “If he’s out there, why haven’t you gone after him?” I asked and emptied my glass.

  Stefan sighed and studied his empty glass. “It’s complicated. The man who killed my sister has divine help. I can’t do anything without Josiah. I suppose I could just walk away and get on with my life, but I don’t have anything left. Just him.” He nodded to Josiah. “Maybe it’s trauma bonding. Maybe it’s more. But he’s my family now, or at least the closest thing I’ve got. How messed up is that?”

  “My daughter is technically less than two years old here on Earth, but she grew up faster in Faerie. I should be potty training her, not grappling with weird fae king boyfriends.”

  “Could be worse,” he said, refilling my glass. “Could be grappling with weird fallen angel daddy issues.”

  Foxglove suddenly let out a loud scream. I turned around just in time to see him slump over, blood dripping from his face to the floor. Josiah shook out his hand and shakily lifted what was left of the cigarette to take a long drag.

  “Was that supposed to happen?” I asked.

  He grunted. “No idea. We’re in uncharted territory. Told you that before.”

  “What’s happening to him?”

  Josiah stared at the stub of his cigarette and dropped it in the pool of blood before staggering, exhausted, to the bar. “Marchosias and Mask are duking it out over what’s left of Foxglov
e’s soul. Won’t be pleasant for Foxglove, no matter who wins, but at least I can control Marchosias. I might’ve summoned a more powerful demon, but anyone higher up the food chain and they might eat him alive. It may turn out I didn’t pick the right demon for the job.”

  Stefan poured Josiah a glass. “Then what?”

  “Then we try someone else.” He gripped the glass, but ultimately pushed it away. “Think I’ll have a coffee if there’s any back there. I’ve got a feeling this’ll be a long one.”

  I looked back at Foxglove. He’d already lost a lot of blood from his fight with Finn and Remy. There was a congealed pool of it on the floor in my office I still had to clean up. Paula wouldn’t be happy about the stain he was going to leave on her floor, either. If this went on much longer, there might not be enough of Foxglove left to save.

  Chapter Eleven

  I fell asleep with my head on the bar.

  It must’ve only been a short while because it was still dark out when Josiah shook me awake. “Get up, fuckwit. He’s coming around.”

  I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and turned to look over my shoulder. Someone had taken the time to mop up some of the blood, though the stain was still on the floor. It looked like Josiah or Stefan had also patched up the cut in his forehead with a big bandage. Foxglove’s lips moved and he rolled his head back and forth, murmuring to himself.

  “Is it him? Or Mask?” I asked, standing.

  Josiah shook his head. “No way to tell until he comes around. Not unless you want to have a peek?”

  Right. Horseman. I could look at his soul and see the difference. I blinked and called up my Vision, hoping Josiah’s trick had worked. The empty pathways of Foxglove’s soul glowed with a faint green light, though streaks of blackness still covered it like a web. “Something’s changed, but he’s still not him.”

  “Might be Marchosias. Let’s find out.” Josiah bent over in front of Foxglove’s body, hands on his knees. “I’d like to address the entity inside. Come on out and name yourself. Don’t make me get the holy water, Marchosias.”