The Devil Walks In Blood: Nick Holleran Private Investigator Book Two (Nick Holleran Series 2)

by David Green

  I climb to my feet, turn my back on him, ignore the mad giggles mixing with his whimpers. Confession didn’t absolve him; it broke him, and not before time. I meet Diana’s empty stare.

  “Do what you want, kid. Just remember what I said. You ain’t like him. Or me.”

  I take a step away, close my eyes. I block out the screams from the priest as he yells for my attention. Maybe the kid’s right and death’s the only justice we can offer some people. After what he took from Diana, what he did to his victims, how he let that entire building of black families burn, how could anyone blame her for wanting revenge? I couldn’t.

  The thrill I felt when I Expunged the Wheelers, certain in my heart that I did the correct thing, tells me that.

  “Nick?” The kid’s voice penetrates my thoughts. Her hand’s in mine, icy fingers tight. “We share the same pain. I’ve felt it since the moment I woke up in your office. Revenge isn’t the way. Moving forward is. Call the cops, get him to confess. So long as he can’t hurt another person, I don’t care. I’m done here.”

  I turn. Father Clancy’s still propped against the altar, breath coming in ragged gulps. She stopped herself. I lay a hand on her head, stroke her hair. The kid smiles.

  Pulling out my cell, I approach the priest.

  “You’re in luck. You get to pay for your crimes after all. Tell the cops everything, before we change our minds.”

  Father Clancy nods, tears mingling with the blood on his cheeks, and it occurs to me I know a couple of cops who’d be very interested in this confession. Maybe they’ll even do me a favor and get off my back.

  I dial.

  “Lori, it’s Nick Holleran. You got Henry with you? Perfect, put me on speaker. There’s a reason I ain’t been around much. Got hired to work a cold case and I reckon I cracked it. You’re gonna wanna talk to this guy.” I press the cell to Father Clancy’s ear. “Go ahead. Confession’s good for the soul.”

  GETTING BETTER

  Marvin Senior’s going to spend the twilight of his life in prison. He confessed to the murder of fourteen girls and women, six of them black, dating between 1965 and 1970. He led the cops to where he’d buried the bodies, didn’t even try to defend himself in court. Wonder what Charon’s going to say to him when he finally passes.

  Taking stock of the last few days makes my head spin. I survived Wendigo, a possessed Amarok, and a Devil Worshipper. I met Lucifer himself and rekindled an old flame. I’m in Hell, surrounded by ghosts, demons, cults and creatures from every myth and legend I ever heard, but I’m getting by, with a little help from my friends.

  Lori and Henry have given me space, only calling into my office to give me the faintest of shakedowns and the most grudging thank you I ever heard. My wounds healed well, and each time I’ve spied Suraz watching me, he’s nodded.

  No Charon, either, though I reckon it ain’t the last I’ve seen of him.

  Jim, the skin-walker, stopped by after my run-in with the Wendigo, and he gave me a well-earned fee that’ll go some way towards making my life a little cozier. Even bought a gift for Diana. Call it a housewarming present.

  Kid’s living with me now. She’s not too hot on visiting my office again yet, but I’ve grown used to having her around, and where else would she go? For her part, she’s delved into studying anything she can about Hell, pestering Ruby whenever she sees her, asking me to get books from Harry and Maeve’s. It’s great to see her motivated. Can already tell she’s going to be amazing at this.

  And Rosa?

  My apartment door swings open, and there she stands. She ain’t living with me, but she stayed over last night. Couple of days after the cabin, once she’d recovered, we talked. One of those conversations about everything and nothing that goes on long into the night and only ends when the sun rises.

  She’s stayed over twice since.

  “You get it?” she asks, face breaking into a grin.

  I heft the package under my arm. “Got it.”

  “She’s gonna love it,” Rosa says, kissing me on the cheek. “Mail came while you were out.”

  It’s funny. Rosa can’t see Diana, hasn’t spoken to her without me or Ruby as a go-between, but she cares for the kid. Don’t know how she manages to make a surreal situation seem so natural. It lights Diana up, feeling how genuine Rosa is towards her.

  I notice the mound of mail on my breakfast counter. Bills, no doubt. They can wait.

  “Hey kid, get out here. Wanna show you something.”

  I set the package down next to the mail, and a handwritten address catches my eye. Diana comes out of the bedroom—says she enjoys time alone sometimes; typical teenager, huh?—and smiles when she sees me. Her grin goes wider when she sees the box.

  “Is that for me? What is it?”

  I wink, open the box, and pull out the record player, just like the one Diana’s family used to have—an authentic 1960s Champion.

  “Hope you like it, kid.”

  Diana gapes. “Nick, it’s… It’s perfect.”

  “Figured you needed some furniture of your own, since you’re staying. Wanna set it up by the window?” She floats the player across the room and I smirk as I reach into my jacket. “That’s not all, figured you wouldn’t have heard this.”

  I pull out a vinyl copy of The White Album by The Beatles and present it to her.

  “Came out after you moved on. Thought you might like to catch up. Hey, if I’d known you were a Beatles fan, maybe I wouldn’t have kept you listening to Nirvana so long.”

  “I guess they weren’t so bad,” she said, breaking into a grin, “but they were imitators.”

  I think back six days, to when Diana fixed to kill a man. I’ve no doubt Marvin Senior deserves death, but the kid wasn’t the one to dish it out. She’s innocent, even if God don’t agree. One day, I’ll prove it to him.

  “I love this album,” Rosa says, taking it from me. “I’ll set it up, big guy. Looks like you’ve plenty of admin to do.”

  I grin, and grab the mail. The handwritten one comes first. Don’t recognize the writing. I tear it open, reading through as Back In The U.S.S.R. scratches into life. Shock slaps me, and a bizarre feeling starts to unfold in my stomach. I shake my head and read again. Must be a mistake.

  “Nick?” Rosa calls, concern on her face. “What is it?”

  I hand her the letter. “It’s from a lawyer’s firm. Harry and Maeve, they left it all to me. Their research, their library, their home. Everything.”

  Rosa crashes into me, hugging me tight. I hug her back and laugh as Diana dances to The Beatles. Two weeks ago, I thought I had life and death figured out. No one knew it better. Now, I realize my journey through Hell’s just beginning, and even though I’ve got one life left, thanks to my friends, I got a real chance of making something of it. I kiss Rosa before she pulls away to dance. I hold the letter in my heart, and I ain’t ashamed to say tears well in my eyes.

  I need a minute. Just to let this sink in. Picking up my carton of smokes, I leave the girls to The Beatles and take my leave. They’ll understand.

  In silence, I head down the stairs and outside, back into Hell. There’s still that weight in the air, that sickness on the wind, the distracted, glum, and apathetic faces passing by, but right now, the skies are blue, as far as the eye can see.

  “I’ll see you again,” I say to Harry and Maeve, and the only cloud I see is a grey one on the horizon, “and we’ll have one Hell of a party.”

  “Perhaps that is where your fate leads you, Nick Holleran, but I think not.”

  And I hadn’t even lit my cigarette yet.

  Charon’s standing beside me, his cloak of shadow surrounding him. I study the cloud again. A sign of ill omen in the future maybe, but it’s better than staring into those almost-human eyes.

  “Thought I’d have seen you sooner after the business at the cabin. Heard
what you said to Marv. Still remember it too.”

  Silence. I glance at the Ferryman. He’s cocked his head, puzzlement plain on that craggy face.

  “That is not possible,” he grates, his voice like a coffin dragged across stone.

  “What’s the Seal, Charon? Why are you taking ghosts there?”

  It starts as a wheeze. His shoulders shake beneath his black coat, and the shadows surrounding him writhe as he laughs.

  “One day, Fateless, when your time comes to end, I will take you there, and you’ll find out for yourself. Our business is not at an end. Be seeing you, Nick Holleran.”

  He steps back into the shadows and they welcome him like a lover. On the horizon, more grey clouds have gathered, and they’re moving in fast.

  “You bet your ass, you sonofabitch,” I mutter, cigarette between my lips. A sudden wind picks up, makes my lighter’s flame flicker as I light up. “And I’m not going out without a fight. I’ll make my own goddamned fate.”

  As I drag on the cigarette, Hell stirs. I’ve got a lot to learn, but Lord knows I’ll learn it fast. There’s a Seal out there—something big, something important. I’ll find it, and I’ll figure the Ferryman out, if it’s the last thing I do.

  Rain falls, and the temperature plummets. I stamp out my smoke beneath my heel and head back inside.

  Be seeing you, Charon.

  EPILOGUE

  A BEGINNING

  The city moves around me. The humans are oblivious to a Nephilim and the Devil standing in their midst as we look up at Nick Holleran’s apartment. I haven’t stopped watching him since that night in the cabin, though he knows to look for me. The Fateless, as Charon calls him.

  “You’re recovering?” Lucifer asks. He leans against the wall of a building and wears a faint smile as the living pass him by. He seems almost fond of them.

  “Hm,” I grunt. My battles with the Wendigo wearied me, and the wounds the Amarok gave me still ache, though I’ve suffered worse.

  “Fine,” Lucifer sighs. “Ask your questions.”

  “The girl,” I say, thinking of Holleran’s eyeless companion. “She picked her time in becoming Aware, did she not?”

  The Devil grins. “I may have given her a nudge.”

  “Why?”

  Lucifer pushes himself off the wall and moves beside me. How small I feel in his presence, how unworthy, how he reminds me of the things I have lost and how I long for so much more.

  “Charon. What does he say of Holleran?”

  “He calls him the Fateless.”

  Lucifer snaps his fingers. “Yes. Suraz, we are governed by laws, fate and destiny, since before we existed. The rebellion against my brother had been preordained, and so is Armageddon. You might call me an actor, carrying out my role. Charon claims to see all this. All that has been, all that is and all that will be. Time is different for him, but Holleran? He sees nothing. Doesn’t that interest you?”

  There’s a fire behind Lucifer’s golden eyes, which I have not seen since we stood before the gates of Mezzala, God’s palace in Heaven.

  “You have not answered my question.”

  Lucifer bares his teeth. “No. I want to push him, Suraz. See what happens when one without a Fate blazes his way through Hell. The Seal swells, my friend. I can’t keep it whole forever. The more Charon feeds it, the stronger it becomes. Once the Seal breaks, the layers of Hell will break open. A showdown with my brother approaches. I will lead them into Heaven again, but not before the time is right. We’re not ready for war. My instincts tell me Holleran is key. He’s nothing like his parents, and for that, I’m grateful.”

  “You knew them?”

  Lucifer pauses, a tiny crease between his eyebrows forming. “Oh, yes. Those people I held no fondness for.”

  “Your love of the humans led you here in the first place, Lucifer.”

  “And your love of me made you follow, Suraz.”

  He places a hand against my face. My skin sings at his touch. I haven’t felt it in too long. It transports me back to a time when we were more than servant and master, more than friends. For a moment, I almost relent, but how can I walk such a path again?

  Lucifer turns, striding away, taking my longing with him. I watch until he’s out of sight, before turning on my heel and walking in the opposite direction. My destination nears, the Church of St Michael’s. Such a fight we had, Michael and I. The only warrior to defeat me in combat. Now, with my body craving alcohol and narcotics, I wager he wouldn’t break a sweat in smiting me.

  I enter the cathedral, its vaulted ceiling domed, its aisle wide. I kneel at the altar, head bowed, but I turn my eyes upward, and watch as the God rays streaming through the glass glow brighter, until a figure steps out of them.

  Metatron. The highest of angels, and God’s favored.

  I avert my eyes as he approaches—better that than to earn his displeasure, his anger. The angel’s white armored boots stop before me.

  “Look at me,” he whispers. A soft voice, but I find it impossible to disobey.

  My eyes settle on his lips. Even with his invitation, I won’t meet his eyes. I am not worthy. He has made that clear in the past. Metatron gazes at me, his obsidian skin darker from the pure white of his armor and hair. Though he smiles, I see his golden eyes holding scorn at the edges of my vision.

  “What news?”

  “Lucifer has grown obsessed with one named Nick Holleran, the Fateless. He says he’s key in his war with our God.”

  Metatron taps at his lip with a finger, deep in thought. “He plans to attack then. When?”

  I hesitate. “He did not share that with me. He grows concerned that the Seal will break soon, that Armageddon approaches. He says he is not ready. Does this please you?”

  I cringe at the pathetic words I say, the plain need to please in my voice. Metatron smiles.

  “You have done well, Suraz. Watch this Fateless, and if he appears a danger to God’s realm, remove him from the board. Return when you have more news.”

  “Wait,” I say, stretching out my arm. Metatron pauses, but he doesn’t look back. “You will speak to God for me, tell him of the work I do?”

  “My old friend,” Metatron says, moving into the light. “Rest assured, God hears all you say.”

  The angel returns to Heaven. I watch God’s light return to the normal light of Hell, and tears flow down my face, dripping onto my armor.

  Lucifer has been more than a friend to me for eons. But I know, deep in my heart, that the Devil will never take Heaven, and I cannot remain in Hell much longer, though my betrayal rips me apart and eats at my soul with a hunger no drug can take away. I climb to my feet, resigned to my task. To learn of Lucifer’s plans, to watch the Fateless.

  Nick Holleran has one life left, and if it means my return to God’s grace, I will not hesitate in taking it.

  ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.’

  — Revelations, 3:20.

  THE END

  Nick Holleran will return in One Life Left

  David Green is a writer of dark fiction. Born in Manchester, UK and living in Galway, Ireland, David grew up with gloomy clouds above his head, and rain water at his feet, which has no doubt influenced his dark scribblings. David is the author of the Pushcart Prize nominated novelette Dead Man Walking, and is excited for his fantasy series, Empire of Ruin, debuting in June 2021 from Eerie River Publishing.

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  www.twitter.com/davidgreenwrite

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  Afterword

  The dark cloud on the horizon swirls and thickens, stretching out across the sky as Hell stirs below it. Nick knows something
approaches… and so do the other major players.

  Lucifer’s passion is reignited, but does he know about his most loyal friend’s betrayal? What lay in the makeshift graves dug by Nick’s parents, so long ago, and why does the Devil know them? And just what is Charon’s game? The Seal weakens, the forces of Heaven and Hell move on a collision course, and standing in between them is Nick Holleran, a man who thought he had death figured out.

  He doesn’t and he needs to learn fast.

  I hope you found The Devil Walks In Blood enjoyable; the dynamic of Nick and Diana was one that excited me from when I wrote about the ‘ghost in the corner’ when sketching out Dead Man Walking, and delving into it was a pure pleasure for me. Bringing Rosa into the mix was always part of the plan; she’s a character that grounds Nick and his story, and one who will have plenty to come in further installments.

  At the moment, there’s three more stories planned. Yes, the Nick Holleran series has an end point, a goal in mind, with fates for the characters set in stone. Even ‘The Fateless.’ Unlike Dead Man Walking, there’s no tip-off point for the next case, but there are hints at what is to come next… why not go read it again and we can discuss your theories? Nothing would make me happier.

  Thank you for reading, and if you would, please take the time to review on Amazon, Goodreads and anywhere else that will take your words. Reviews are the life-blood of an author, and word of mouth helps get Nick out there.

  Holleran will return. Soon. With one life left, he needs to tread with care.

  Until next time,

  David Green.

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, my erstwhile beta-reader and first port-of-call who checks that what I’ve written makes basic sense: Chris Hewitt. The pages came in thick and fast for this one!

  Michelle at Eerie River Publishing for giving Nick a new home and pushing me to hone the story further; thank you.

  S.O. Green, my fabulous editor, for smoothing off the edges and for laser-focused insight.