Devil's Return

by Percival Constantine

  “I called ahead and arranged for a hotel,” said Shelly as she held up her hand to summon a taxi. “We should return by tonight.”

  A taxi pulled to a stop and the driver got out to help Morrison load his bags into the trunk. Morrison gave both Shelly and Dakota quick hugs.

  “I wish I could be of more help,” he said.

  “You’ve done plenty so far,” said Dakota. “If it wasn’t for you, Luther wouldn’t have gotten us this spell.”

  “And if it wasn’t for me, Asmodeus never would have found you and you’d still be safe,” said Morrison.

  I rolled my eyes. Didn’t matter if it was the truth, Asmodeus was a master of torture. Anyone would have broken under his questioning. I even broke without realizing it. Chuck was being too hard on himself, but it wasn’t likely that he’d suddenly stop.

  He got into the taxi and was driven away to the hotel. I watched the car go beside Shelly and Dakota and then followed them once they started to walk from the port.

  “I’ve arranged for a car we can use,” said Shelly as she took out her phone to check the time. “It should be here soon.”

  It wasn’t long before the car arrived, driven erratically down the street. The driver got out of the car and threw a cigarette down on the street, grinding it under his heel. He was a young man, but the car itself looked like it was old enough to have been drafted in ’Nam. A small van that looked like a death trap on wheels. I was starting to feel a lot less enthusiastic about Dakota’s choice to go with Shelly.

  Shelly paid the man and he handed her the keys before leaving. I stepped up to the car and looked over it. At least it still had seatbelts, so that was something, I supposed.

  “I know it’s not much, but it won’t draw a lot of attention,” said Shelly. “And where we’re headed, that’s a good thing.”

  “As long as it gets us there in one piece, it should be fine,” said Dakota.

  She was braver than me. If I were still alive, I doubt you could’ve paid me to get in a car like that. Being dead helped alleviate some of those misgivings. At least no one would see me in it.

  Dakota climbed into the backseat with Malcolm and strapped herself in. I went through the passenger door and sat down as Shelly got into the driver’s seat and started up the car. She shifted into gear and the van rattled as it began to take us through Isabela City.

  Something nagged at the back of my head. I felt like there was a presence nearby. I looked all around the car, but I couldn’t see anything. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that we weren’t alone. Maybe it was the wraiths, but I got the sense if they’d found me, they wouldn’t hesitate to attack.

  It was possible I was just paranoid, but I’d learned long ago that my paranoia was justified more often than not. Too bad there was nothing I could do to warn Dakota and Shelly. All I could do was wait and watch.

  And hope they could reach the babaylan before something bad happened.

  6

  The old van drove past the city limits of Isabela and the homes and businesses were replaced by green farmland stretching out across the horizon on both sides. Shelly didn’t consult a map or anything, she seemed to know exactly where she was going. I still didn’t like the situation, liked it even less that I was hitching a ride without either of them knowing I was there.

  The drive was silent at first. Shelly looked into the rear-view mirror, then focused on the road. A few minutes later, she would do the same thing again. I looked over my shoulder at Dakota, who just stared down at Malcolm’s sleeping face.

  Finally, Shelly said what she’d obviously been working up the courage to say. “You haven’t talked much about him.”

  Dakota looked up. She seemed unprepared for that and turned her attention to the window.

  “You can talk about him,” said Shelly.

  “I have,” said Dakota. “The only reason we’re here is because I talked about him and that spell he gave you.”

  “I don’t mean the mission.”

  Dakota sighed and looked down at Malcolm’s face again. “I know you don’t.”

  She was clearly struggling to say what was on her mind. I could see it in her face. More than that, I could sense her emotions in a way I’d never been able to do while I was alive. I supposed this was a ghost thing. When all your other senses became useless, it felt like the empathy dial got cranked up to eleven.

  And then I thought about how strange it was that I was sitting here without their knowledge as they discussed how they felt about me. Almost like I was spying on them, and in a way, I guess I was. But it still struck me as strangely funny. Maybe that was just deflection on my part, trying to avoid the reality of what had happened to me.

  “Luther was…” Dakota hesitated. “He had his issues.”

  “Clearly,” said Shelly. “Ignoring his responsibilities like that, partnering with demons, even an alliance with Lucifer—”

  “He came through in the end,” said Dakota, her tone suddenly sharp. “Things aren’t as black-and-white as you’d been taught. Just look at this situation. We’re hiding from an angel and seeking out a shaman. The same kind of shaman that people from your order no doubt once persecuted and labeled as evil.”

  Shelly’s face tightened. I could tell she felt attacked by Dakota’s words. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, but other than that, she didn’t say a word. I was a little impressed by the way Dakota stood up for me.

  “I’m sorry,” Shelly finally said. “It…wasn’t appropriate to criticize him. I didn’t know him well enough to have that right.”

  She sure didn’t. But then again, there were plenty of people who did know me and criticized me far worse for exactly the things she’d mentioned. There was some truth in Shelly’s words—I did fuck up in probably the most colossal way anyone could think of. If I’d only been able to fight off my dark side and keep it at bay instead of giving in, then maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation. I would’ve figured out sooner that Raziel was missing, been able to find out who was behind this, and then do something about it.

  But I didn’t. And that was something that weighed on my soul, even after death. I was angry at myself. Pissed that I managed to let things spiral out of control and—

  I realized my hands were clenched into fists. I closed my eyes and tried to center myself. I had to be careful. Charon told me how vengeful spirits were created and I couldn’t go down that road. I had to maintain balance to avoid either getting stuck in a loop or going off the deep end.

  “You weren’t wrong, though,” said Dakota, breaking the silence and pulling me back into the moment. “Luther made mistakes. But then again, we’ve all done that. It was a mistake for me to follow Luxton in the first place.”

  “You were influenced by him, you didn’t have control over your actions,” said Shelly.

  “You could say the same for Luther. And you’re right, I know that,” said Dakota. “But knowing something and feeling something aren’t always the same thing.”

  “I understand.”

  “Besides, one good thing came out of it.” Dakota looked down at Malcolm and brushed what little hair he had from his forehead.

  “We hope…”

  Shelly’s words were said under her breath, so inaudibly that Dakota couldn’t hear them. But I did. It made me wonder if Raziel only intended for Shelly to be Dakota’s bodyguard, or if she was also a contingency plan in case they found themselves up shit creek without a paddle.

  Part of me was angered with Raziel for thinking that. But another part knew it was the smart thing to do. He was a pragmatist, he’d do what was necessary regardless of the cost. Wasn’t as if it were the first time an angel had to do some smiting.

  I just had to hope it wouldn’t come to that. I stared down into Malcolm’s sleeping face. He was an innocent baby. Didn’t ask to be the bastard son of a rogue angel, didn’t ask to grow up on the run from all manner of supernatural assholes. Couldn’t even speak yet and already his life was being mapp
ed out by others who wanted to force him into a mold he might not even fit.

  Alistair tried his best to give me some semblance of choice, but even he had his hands tied by the Sons of Solomon. Even if I was a ghost, I’d do whatever I could to see to it Malcolm got the chances I never did. After everything Dakota had been through, after I failed to step up to the plate when it truly counted, I owed her that much.

  I was pulled from my thoughts by a sudden feeling of dread. My stomach dropped—or at least it would have if I still had one. I looked out front and saw a streak through the air. Shelly saw it, too—I heard her utter some very un-Christian words as she pulled hard on the wheel and the car spun. And that streak? It hit the ground just a few feet in front of us and caused an explosion.

  Shelly’s quick reaction behind the wheel was the only thing that stopped the car from being caught in the rocket’s path, but the force of the explosion still threw the vehicle. Dakota held Malcolm close to her as the car was thrown onto its side.

  An eerie calm followed, which was quickly broken by Malcolm’s cries. I looked at Shelly, who seemed stunned. I tried to slap her face to wake her, but my fingers just kept passing through.

  “C’mon, girl, you gotta wake up!” I pleaded.

  A moment later, she drew in a sharp breath and looked behind her. “Dakota…?”

  “Yeah…” came Dakota’s mumbled reply. “We’re okay.”

  “We have to get out of here, fast.”

  Shelly unbuckled her seatbelt and pulled her legs out from under the steering wheel. She stood on the passenger-side window as she pulled the handle for the driver’s door and pushed it open. Shelly grabbed the edge of the door frame and pulled herself up.

  “Shit…” she muttered once she stuck her head out.

  I stepped through the car and saw it, too. Two Jeeps were coming towards us, filled with men. I saw one of them standing in the cab and aiming a rocket launcher. They were the ones responsible for blindsiding us.

  Shelly quickly pulled herself out of the car and dropped down onto the road. She circled around to the back of the van and opened the door to retrieve her bag. Inside was an automatic rifle, which she took out and quickly checked before slinging the strap over her shoulder. She took a handgun and stuck it in the waistband of her jeans, then held the rifle in both hands.

  “Stay in the car,” said Shelly. “I’ll try and draw them away.”

  “You’re out of your damn mind,” I told her, even though I knew she couldn’t hear. “You won’t last ten minutes against them.”

  Dakota protested. “You can’t do this alone!”

  “I don’t have a choice…” whispered Shelly, using the van as cover.

  The cars rolled to a stop and young men piled out. They had rifles and handguns of their own, which they aimed at the van. Then came orders barked in Tagalog.

  “I’m not looking for trouble!” Shelly shouted back. “Just passing through.”

  “You don’t just ‘pass through’ our territory,” said one of the men.

  “Fine…” muttered Shelly.

  She briefly stepped out of cover to open fire. The men quickly moved away and fired back just as Shelly ducked behind the van once again.

  “That was a warning shot!” she said. “If I don’t intend to miss, you’ll be on the ground.”

  That was some nice bravado, but having a swinging set of brass ones won’t mean much if you’re not alive to show them off. I had to do something. I’d seen ghosts throw heavy armoires clear across a room like it was nothing, seen them carve messages into people’s flesh, seen all manner of craziness. And I couldn’t even get myself to stay solid?

  It was a risk, I knew that. But I didn’t have a choice. I had to concentrate, focus on what gave those ghosts their power—rage. To hell with Charon and Alistair’s warnings. It was time to either shit or get off the pot. Dakota wouldn’t survive if I didn’t do something, and that would mean I’d died for nothing. I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  I thought about the anger I felt before in my life. Anger at my father for cursing me with this kind of existence. Anger at my mother for not surviving the birth. Anger at Alistair for leaving me with the Sons and running off on his own. Anger at Heaven for all their self-righteous bullshit. Anger at Hell for their pettiness and cruelty. Anger at Celeste for leaving me, anger at Gabriel for not lifting a goddamn finger, anger at Asmodeus for stabbing me and turning me into a ghost. Anger at the scumbag angel who started this shit in the first place.

  But more than anything, anger at myself. For giving in to the darkness, for letting things get this bad. If I was going to blame anyone for the series of events that led me here, I had to put that on myself. I’d let things spiral out of control, but instead of throwing a pity party, I just focused on that rage.

  I opened my eyes and I felt a surge rush through my body, not unlike what I felt the first time I used the Abraxas Stone. The bullets fired from the terrorists’ guns, but they didn’t go very far. In a sudden display of power, I’d managed to curve them. They flew around the van, not a single one striking its surface. The bullets circled around and then returned to their points of origin. One by one, the bullets struck the men who fired them, leaving the few still alive, writhing on the ground.

  Silence fell once again, nothing but the calm sound of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. Shelly stood slack-jawed and stepped out of cover. She’d seen the bullets circling and couldn’t believe it. When she went to check on the men, she saw them all lying on the ground. A few were barely clinging to life, but she changed that with her handgun.

  “Shelly…?”

  She turned around at the sound of Dakota’s voice.

  “What’s going on?” asked Dakota. “Can you help us out?”

  “Yeah, I suppose I can,” said Shelly. “Seems there’s nothing else here to give us a problem. And looks like I found us two new cars and some more weapons.”

  Shelly set down the guns and climbed on top of the van. She opened the rear passenger door and reached her hands inside to accept the baby from Dakota. Gently cradling him, she tried her best to climb slowly down from the side of the van. Dakota managed to pull herself up without much struggle and joined them on the ground.

  Just as they did, there was the sound of a car in the distance. Shelly quickly passed the baby to Dakota and retrieved her weapons. She gestured for Dakota to get low behind the van and Shelly went to the edge, peering over the side.

  “Someone’s coming,” she said.

  Dammit, not again. I didn’t know if I’d be able to pull another ghost stunt like that so soon. The car that came to a stop was a pick-up truck with two men inside. They stepped out to examine the remains of the terrorists.

  “Don’t move!” shouted Shelly, stepping out from behind cover.

  The two men held their arms up, but they didn’t look surprised or scared. Shelly kept the gun trained on them and maintained a safe distance. She nodded to their truck.

  “If you want to live, get back in your car and keep driving. Tell no one what you saw.”

  “Actually, we were sent for you, Sister Reyes,” said one of the men. “Both you and Ms. Reed.”

  7

  Shelly took command of one of the cars left behind by the terrorists and Dakota got into the backseat with Malcolm. It was less secure than the van, which was probably why Dakota was holding Malcolm tighter than before. She also couldn’t take her eyes off the two mysterious men who appeared after the attack was over.

  I had the same reaction.

  They’d spoken with Shelly in Tagalog and she seemed satisfied with what they’d told her. I had no idea what they’d actually said, but Shelly told Dakota that they worked for the babaylan. He knew they were coming to see him and sent his men as an escort.

  I wasn’t completely sold on this babaylan. Sorcerers and shamans could be problematic. Often times, they were conceited assholes who lived on the adoration of their followers. Others were just cryptic as all
hell and you could never get a straight answer out of them. There were a few were on the level. But people like Alistair and Tessa were often exceptions to the rule.

  Shelly followed them on the road through the forest and up into the mountains. The scenery was nice to look at. Wish I still had corporeal form so I could feel the breeze on my skin or smell the scent of the ocean in the air.

  I didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary. I got no bad vibes off of these two men, so we seemed to be in good hands for the time being. Neither Shelly nor Dakota said a word during the drive. Shelly seemed calm and at ease for once. Dakota’s anxiety had only increased. Even though she trusted Shelly, it was natural for her to be suspicious about this kind of thing.

  We eventually reached a small village at the top of the mountain. It was a shanty town, not the most impressive of accommodations, but would have to do for now. The two men got out of the truck and came over to our car and helped Shelly and Dakota out.

  “It’s okay now,” one of them said to Dakota in English. “You’re safe here.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that. What I wouldn’t have given for a gun.

  “So, our guests have finally arrived.”

  The voice came from inside one of the shanties and a man emerged from it. He was tall and thin, almost like a rail. He wore a shear, yellow shirt that was open in the front, revealing his toned physique and tribal tattoos on his brown skin. His pants were lightweight and baggy—red, brown, and yellow. Around his waist there hung straw rings with scarves tied to them. On his head he wore a red cap that almost came to a point. He had a warm smile and I could feel Dakota’s anxiety easing once she saw him.

  “Welcome.” His English didn’t have the slightest hint of an accent. If I’d heard his voice on the phone, I would’ve thought he was someone from the midwest. He offered his hand, first to Shelly and then to Dakota.