by Hunter Blain
“Because no one else can,” I said softly, not liking the situation any more than him.
“What does Father Thomes say about all this?” Val asked while crossing his arms.
“He . . . he doesn’t know. And he doesn’t need to know,” I quickly added. “It’ll only worry him.”
“How are ya even gon’ get there?”
“I get my armor back from Ulric—”
“The fuck ya mean? Ulric has Raziel’s armor?!” Valenta demanded, his face growing red.
“Long story short, Ulric made Joey get the armor and give it to him. BUT, he kept a piece of it that Ulric might not notice, in hopes that it would never work.”
“Joey? He lied ta me?”
“He didn’t have a choice.”
“Lot of that gon’ ’round,” Val countered, shaking his head in disappointment. I knew in that moment that he would never trust Joey again.
“Ulric has access to Hell and promised Joey that he would torture Dawson if he didn’t comply. Even with knowing that, Joey still kept the belt, hoping I could free his brother.”
Valenta’s face turned a shade lighter while he processed what I’d said.
“Please, continue,” Collin suggested.
“I get the armor back from Ulric, which will help me prevent the time dilation while shifting planes, or while in other planes . . . not really sure exactly how it works. I get to Hell, then I use some of Lily’s enchanted blood to shift me to the in-between, allowing my soul to sink to Sheol.”
“And allow’n for a way back,” Valenta drawled as he placed a hand under his chin in thought. “I had never considered that.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much. Apparently, only an abomination like me can make the trip.”
“Jus’ curious. Do ya need tha armor Ulric has?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I have a spare set somewhere hidden away?” Val’s eyes shifted to Collin, and I noticed the government man intently appeared to examine his drink, allowing for the gesture of privacy in our conversation. Though he pretended not to hear, Val and I both knew otherwise.
“I think its best I get the nail and armor back from Ulric, just to be safe.”
“Fair ’nuff. But how are ya supposed to mount an attack on tha most powerful warlock in existence, without dyin’?”
“Easy. My friends will wait until dawn and go,” I said while tapping on the shot glass with a finger. Val took the gesture and poured another drink. I was beginning to feel the effects wash over me like a heavy, wet fog over dry, brittle grass.
“I don’t understand how that will be easy,” Collin admitted. “Would you like me to send some of my people along?”
“I, ah, hadn’t considered that, actually. I suppose that would be good. Just . . . just be ultracareful. I assume when you say your people that you mean a highly trained squad of hit men?”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call them that. More like . . . professionals.”
“Like Léon? I loved that movie! Bu-bu-but it, ah, further serves to prove my point. That dude was a total epic hit man.”
“They are professionals in the sense that, if I tell them to not engage, even to the point where they risk losing their own lives, they will obey.”
“Oh . . . sh-shit . . .”
“Yup,” Special Agent in Charge Collin Baker said as he finished his drink.
“So, without a nail, how do we find him?”
Valenta flipped out an impressive folding knife and cut out a piece of his bar. Now that I was looking, I could see where five little divots had been previously removed.
“Use this,” he said, handing the wood to me.
“Right, the buttons on my trench.”
“Take that back and see if Locke or Warden Broadway can get a,” Collin smirked, “lock on it.”
“I know. Dumb name, right? And can you believe he made it up? But, I guess, Locke the Wizard sounds better than Locke the Warlock. Ugh, that guy!”
Collin continued with barely a nod in acknowledgment of my statement. “Let me know what you find, and we can compare notes. Though we have a good idea where he might be, I’d like to be as certain as possible before sending in any of my men. Accountability and all that. You get what I mean,” Collin said before his expression froze as he looked at me. “Never mind.”
“Hey! I’m accountable and stuff!”
“You sure are, champ. Would you look at the time?” he said while looking at his bare right wrist. Damn it, that was annoying. “Seriously though, do you know how to use your new phone?”
“Map. Charge for two minutes. Profit.”
“Good enough,” Collin said as he did a little drum tap on the bar before standing up and punching commands into his own watch on his left wrist.
“You’re already standing? Aren’t ya gonna let it charge for two minutes first?”
“That’s my secret,” Collin said as he pressed a button on the screen. “I’m always charged.” There was a bright flash of light that moved from front to back, and he was gone.
“Neat trick,” Val admired while wiping down the bar where Collin had been and putting the glass in a nearby sink.
“Well, aren’t you just in love,” I facetiously observed while bobbing my head back and forth and squinting my eyes.
“He’s a likable fella.”
“Eh, I guess so.”
“He did tell John tha Vampire some hard truths, an’ didn’t die because of it.”
“Is that what people think of me? I should kill them for thinking such garbage.”
“Feelin’ better, I see?” Val said with a smile. I assumed he was smiling because the corners of his impressive mustache went up slightly. “Oh! I have somethen for ya. Wait ’ere.”
Val walked away from the bar and into the kitchen. I opened my new phone and stared at the portal icon.
Within a minute, Val returned with a dark green bottle with a cork in it. There was a murky liquid inside that I couldn’t quite make out.
“What’s that?” I asked, my interest piqued.
“I call it Jagerblood. It’s a special mixture jus’ for ya.”
“What makes it so special?”
Val set the heavy glass on the bar with a light thud and leaned forward. I matched his movement and moved a few inches closer as he whispered, “It’s made from angel blood.”
I straightened in an instant with wide eyes, my palms resting on the bar. I loved angel blood. It was so potent and strong, filling my energy reserves to the brim with minimal physical liquid needed.
“Wh—”
“Mine,” Val interrupted, anticipating my question and answering it before I could finish asking it.
“Whoa! No way!”
“Way, boy,” Val said with a smile at how excited I was at the prospect. He popped the cork and poured me a shot in a fresh glass.
“Does this mean we’re going steady now?” I asked, lifting the crimson liquid that was so dark that it could easily be mistaken as black. “It even looks like Jager!” I said as I brought it up and sniffed the delectable goodness. Even the smell made the hairs on my neck and arms stand up.
Val was watching me with a smile hidden beneath his epic facial hair.
“To my Preter-Friends! May they not die this day or any other!” I threw the drink back and almost fell off of my stool as the power rushed into my being. My fingers and face tingled as I leaned back, holding onto the bar for support. My unfocused gaze roamed over the ceiling as I felt my well fill the rest of the way up. A moan hissed between quivering lips as the world became bright again and I was flying to the stratosphere. The conversation I had been forced to endure had been deep enough that light couldn’t penetrate down to the depth’s my mind had been left in.
As quickly as it had washed over me, the euphoria and bliss receded like a breaking wave over a white sand beach. I felt right as rain.
“Glad ta see a smile on yer face, John,” Val said, bringing me the rest of the
way back to reality.
I blinked a few times before noticing the piece of wood the angel had given me to help find Ulric. I snatched it up and held it tightly in my hand. Just as the conversation had sunken my heart and mind to dark depths and the drink with angel blood had thrown me in the polar opposite direction, this singular piece of wood helped find a balance between the helpless despair and blissful euphoria.
“Yeah, man. Thanks for the drinky-poo. Now I need to go home and just . . . wait . . . for my friends to go try and steal from Ulric.” I turned the piece of wood over in my fingers before tucking it in the front pocket of my jeans. “I miss my coat,” I said quietly, not meaning to say the words aloud.
“I miss him, too,” Val added, drawing my gaze up to meet his. Sometimes I forgot that I wasn’t the only one who had lost Da, aka the angel Raziel and Val’s brother. But, literal brother. I mean, I called Depweg my brother, but it was more like I’d adopted him (oh shit, did I make a dog joke? Don’t tell him!) rather than being actual brothers. It was probably for the best, though; I didn’t think I could stand a full-blooded brother who acted just like me. I mean, I barely liked me, as it was. Oh, who was I kidding? I loved me some me. My pecs started bouncing up and down as I looked at them through the hoodie.
“Ya alright there, boy?”
“Huh?” I asked, coming out of my inner dialogue. “Yeah, why?”
“Ya were bounc’n your tiddies up and down while making a stupid noise with each flex.”
“I was? What noise?”
Val looked at me sidelong as he cleaned the now empty glasses, as if I’d just asked him to slip into a lime green Borat mankini and go to the water park with me.
“One more, for tha road,” Val said as he poured another shot of just Jack and Blood. I shot the drink while lifting my face toward the heavens, enjoying the tingly goodness as it slipped down my throat. All my worries were slipping away as inebriation set in. I wanted to smile without a reason, but every time I started to, my stubborn mind reminded me of what was coming.
“Thanks, man. I’ll swing by tomorrow to let ya know how it went, yeah?”
“May tha light be with ya and yer friends.”
Chapter 17
Ipushed through the swinging double doors and into the early night. My head was a tad extremely light and I had to focus on walking a straight line back home. I wanted to giggle, but every time I started, the immense weight of what was coming smashed down my mirth like a newspaper crushing a helpful spider. He was only there to eat bugs!
The situation was one I wasn’t comfortable with at all. Normally, I went with my friends whenever we had some impossible mission to do. But this one was to be done sans John, and with the most powerful foe we had faced up to this point.
“Fuck!” I cried out into the night as I clenched my fists and shook them toward the sky.
Not only was I feeling helpless as to the potential meat grinder my friends were walking into, I’d also had my very definition of friend come into question. I mean, I cared about the people living in my home . . . er, our home. Our home, was what I said. I mean, especially for Depweg and, surprisingly, Locke. And Magni, of course; always had a soft spot for him for reasons I wasn’t wanna get into right now. Um, Joey and I had gotten closer with our two nights in Mexico. You know, we had had some heart to hearts.
Let’s see, was I missing anyone? Oh, of course! I would just die if anything happened to Tiny Tim . . . I mean, again. Also don’t wanna rehash that past.
Who did that leave? Right, Ludvig and Hayley. Don’t get me wrong, I did lo-lo-like Ludvig; I just sensed there was some unjust hatred revolving around my hammer. ’Cause it was my hammer. Thor and the rest of the Norse gods were dead. D-E-D, dead. I wish Satan would go after the scientologists next, am I right? Wait, then the Battlefield Earth collectors’ cups might actually become collectors’ items. Crap, I still needed to start that whole collection over.
I continued on with the assessment of my allies.
Warden Broadway was alright. Maybe I was a little put off that she was an equal match to me in the battle of the wits. Plus, she was a newcomer into the fold and hadn’t earned her wings yet.
I stumbled on the curb and almost face-planted as I caught myself with cartwheeling arms and a cry of, “Whoa! Whoa.” I continued walking, letting my arms fall to my sides.
So, yeah, I cared about each and every one of those freeloaders living in my home. Especially Depweg . . . and Locke . . . and Magni . . . an-and Tiny Tim. Lilith, you see where I’m going with this. I was trying to convince myself that Collin was wrong and that I wasn’t using my friends, nor were they using me.
Looking up from my internal monologue which bore no fruit, I saw that I was in the cemetery parking lot and approaching the gates.
Sticking my hands in my hoodie pockets, I counted to three while inhaling, held it, then released on a six count. Lilith, I did not like how things were shaping up. But at least Collin was going to send some guys.
I pulled a hand out of the hoodie and reached for the wood piece in my jeans pocket. Holding it for a few seconds, I removed it and examined the wood in the light of the parking lot.
As I regarded the piece from Val’s bar at arm’s length, a bullshit part of my mind asked what Da would think of the little girl in the plexiglass prison.
Making a fist over the wood, both hands began to shake as I closed my eyes and breathed heavily. Though my head felt light from the drinks, the theater in my mind held perfect, merciless clarity.
Blue eyes stared from just above rosy cheeks. Muffled cries could be heard, clear now that I knew they were there. Ulric’s stupid smile as he watched me damn my soul.
No. No, I was glad Da wasn’t here to bear witness to my sins.
I swayed on my feet and had to open my eyes to make sure I didn’t topple to the ground.
A feeling of unease struck, and I realized this was about the time that something would jump out of the dark or talk from behind me, cueing an epic fight scene or some other plot device. John’s luck was always in, always bad. I shuddered.
Just in case, I glanced over my shoulder and saw the coast was clear, for a change.
Resuming my walk toward the mausoleum, I said a silent Irish prayer for the girl and her family while holding the small piece of wood that had apparently come from Valhalla itself.
Resting my left hand on the stone wall, I punched in my code, getting it right the second time, before carefully making my way down the forty feet of stairs. I paused at the front door as if in doing so, I could prolong the inevitable.
Tiny Tim began yipping from somewhere inside, and I heard him jump to the floor from the chair or couch and run toward the door. Opening it, I was indeed met with a stampeding puppy who I bent down to scoop up. It’s funny how something as innocent as puppy kisses could make a monster like me feel at ease.
“Hey, guys, what’s up?” I asked to the room, sloppily plastering a carefree face on but unable to hide the slight slur in my voice.
There were plates in the sink, and Ludvig was holding his stomach like a pregnant mother.
“Hey,” most of the room replied while they pored over Locke’s extended screen, paying me little mind.
“Did you get the nail?” Depweg asked, looking up at me.
“No, but I got this,” I said, tossing the wood through the air to my best friend. It flew a little to the side, but he caught it and examined the piece with a confused look before understanding dawned on his features.
“The coat?”
“The coat,” I confirmed.
“This will do nicely,” Locke said, holding his hand out to Depweg. The were alpha dropped the little piece of wood into Locke’s palm, and the new wizard stood up and made his way into his room.
“Need some help?” Hayley called out as she proceeded to get up and follow Locke rather than wait for a reply. The two of them began talking in his room as I walked to my chair. Magni was in it, playing with his handheld Nintendo
system. I stepped over him and took Locke’s spot next to Depweg.
Turning to my best friend, I placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and just smiled as I looked at him.
“What?” he asked, sensing something was off.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, man, you can’t fool me.” His words stung as I thought about how easily he had believed my lie about Dawson.
“I’m . . . I’m just worried about you guys, is all. You know, since I can’t be there with you.”
“Well, honestly, you would probably be a hindrance, brother. Since we are going in at dawn, I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I breathed as I shut my eyes and leaned back into the thick leather couch. It was comfy.
My eyes shot open as I thought about what fluids had been slung on the very couch in which I currently sat. Screw it.
“I’ll make sure you get your coat and beanie back, too,” he added, patting my knee a few times.
“Oh!” I barked out while leaning forward, startling everyone in the room but Ludvig. “Collin is going to send some professionals to help out.” I said the word with an emphasis, like I was telling a secret.
“Professionals? You mean hit men?” Depweg asked, placing a hand on his knee as he pivoted his upper body toward me.
“I know, right? That’s what I said. Collin promises they would die before actually killing Ulric, but could help us with, like, everyone else.”
“That’s not creepy at all.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s like Bane’s men in The Dark Knight Rises.”
“You know you’re going to have to catch up on all the movies that came out in the thirteen years you were gone, right?” Joey asked.
“Lilith damn it! I keep meaning to do that. How unfortunate that these all-of-creation-ending events keep popping up one right after the other, huh? Jo-Joey. JoJo.”
“We could have watched some while flying to Mexico,” Joey countered.
“And you could have mentioned this while flying to Mexico, JoJo.”
“Please don’t call me that,” JoJo muttered under his breath while pretending to look at his phone, ignoring my drunkenness.
“Just like that?” Locke asked, his voice floating into the now-silent room.
