I felt the tingle of something suspicious and stopped. I turned and looked around the parking garage for some sign of what my senses were trying to warn me about. Morrison stared at me in confusion and finally asked the question on his mind.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I said. “Something tells me we’re not alone. Move faster, but don’t run. We need to get to the airport quickly.”
“If there’s someone after us, wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
“Most demons would rather avoid risk of that kind of exposure. And if we have one who doesn’t give a damn, then they’d have to deal with security. All the chaos it could cause would provide the perfect cover for us to escape.”
“What about the people?”
“Don’t worry about it. Now start walking.”
Morrison looked horrified at the way I dismissed his concern about potential bystanders, but didn’t have time for that. We had something far more important to worry about than a bunch of humans who were stupid enough to get caught in the crossfire. Sometimes, accidents happened and you just had to roll with it.
I quickened my pace with Morrison alongside me. We made it to the Airport Transit System and boarded the train car. I stayed by the door and stared out the window, looking to see if anyone was following us. The doors closed, but I saw nothing.
I let out a sigh of relief. As the ATS moved away from the stop at the garage, the sense I got of something following us started to fade. Maybe someone or something had been following us and we’d managed to escape. Would’ve been nice to catch a break given everything else happening. But I had a sinking feeling I wasn’t that lucky.
We got off at the stop for the international terminal. Morrison sidled up next to me as we entered the airport. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I think we’re in the clear for now, we just have to get to our flight.”
There weren’t any direct flights, so there would be a layover in Hong Kong before we went on to Manila. Part of me was actually looking forward to the prospect of spending an entire day in planes. With all the craziness lately, I’d barely gotten enough sleep and I needed the opportunity to recharge.
We walked up to one of the ticketing kiosks and began to enter in our information. The tickets and luggage tags printed out. As I started taping the tags to our luggage, my senses perked up again and I stood up straight, looking around like an animal who’d just picked up a strange scent.
“Luther? Is everything okay?”
I wasn’t listening to Morrison. As I focused my senses, his voice faded into white noise. I was scanning the crowd. There was a presence here and it wasn’t friendly. But what demon would be dumb enough to start something right here out in the open? It was pretty much suicide.
And that’s when I saw him. He walked through the crowds of people with purpose, his long duster coat just barely avoiding the floor, his silver hair and beard framing a face lined with scars and eyes so intense, you’d be forgiven for thinking he could kill you with a single glance.
Of course, why bother with a demon when you knew an unkillable hitman? The man who invented the very idea of murder in the first place. He was unstoppable. And he really hated me.
“Cain…” I muttered in a hushed whisper.
His green eyes zeroed in on me, flashing briefly with an unearthly glow. My pulse quickened as his hand drew back his coat, revealing the holster on his leg. He drew the revolver and aimed, the sigils along the barrel glowing.
“Gun! He’s got a gun!” I shouted.
Cain fired two shots and I dropped to the ground. They hit the kiosk, rendering it useless. The smell of smoke filled the air. Screams echoed from all around. The airport wasn’t as crowded at this time of night, but there were still plenty of people to be used as distractions. People ran for the exits, right through the area separating Cain and myself.
I grabbed hold of my bag with one hand and used the other to pull Morrison by the arm. We broke into a run through the airport. As we ran, I saw security guards running past us, towards Cain.
They wouldn’t be able to stop him, but they could provide him with enough of a distraction for us to get through to security. At least that was my hope. But when we got to the checkpoint, there was already a long line of people, and the TSA officials running it were now refusing to let anyone through.
Of course. Once they heard the shots, they weren’t going to keep things running as normal. I looked back and saw Cain fighting off the security guards. They drew their guns on him and opened fire without hesitation. Cain just stood there as his body was assaulted by bullets, but they did nothing to deter him. He slid the gun in his holster and charged into the guards, quickly depriving them of their weapons and leaving them unconscious on the ground.
“Who is that?” asked Morrison, gasping for breath.
“That’s Cain,” I said.
“Dear God…”
“Don’t think he’s listening, Chuck.”
With the guards down, there was nothing separating Cain from us. He started to run and that pushed me to do the same. I took Morrison by the arm again and we were off, dashing for the escalator. We ran down the steps, into the arrivals terminal on the lower level. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Cain jumping down the escalator several steps at a time.
We weren’t getting on a plane tonight, that was obvious. So the only thing to do now was to get Morrison somewhere safe, a place where we could lay low. Morrison and I ran out through the front doors and on the curb. I ran up to the first taxi I saw and opened the front passenger door. The driver looked at me in surprise.
“In the back,” he said, jerking his thumb to the backseat.
“Get out!” I barked, using my powers on him. The glow from my crimson eyes briefly cast a red hue in the darkness of the car.
The cabbie looked frightened at first, then his eyes glazed over and he did as he was told. I took over for him and dropped my bag on the passenger seat as Morrison got into the back. I shifted into gear and stepped on the gas.
Didn’t want to leave the Camaro, but desperate times. I’d have to come back for it later, once we got rid of Cain. Right now, we had to get to a safehouse. If I could get Morrison to one of my storage units, we’d be safe for the time being.
“Why is Cain after us?” asked Morrison.
“A while back, we had to get into Purgatory, so we needed a guide. Cain was the only one to ever escape from there. But he’d only cooperate if I could get Raz to help him die. I lied and said I could. Seems he holds a grudge.”
“Why now?”
“Best guess, Asmodeus,” I said.
I sped up and slammed my hand on the horn, swerving in and out of lanes to avoid the other cars. Suddenly, the car lurched forward as something hit us from behind.
I checked the mirror and saw one of the shuttles right on our tail. And behind the wheel was Cain. He held the steering wheel with one hand and in the other he pointed his gun.
“Duck!” I followed my own advice and huddled down as much as I could just before a bullet went through the rear window and continued out the windshield.
Cain rammed us again and it threw the cab out of control. I grabbed the wheel as we swerved, trying to straighten out, but then he hit the rear side and the car spun more. My foot slammed on the brakes and we skidded across the lanes of traffic before striking the median.
I groaned and looked up. Cain had stopped the shuttle and now walked towards us, his gun in hand. I reached for the door and opened it, stumbling out onto the street. He smiled as he aimed at me and fired.
The bullet struck my leg and I dropped, my face getting a good taste of asphalt. The pain radiated out from my thigh and I tried to concentrate to pull some magic out of my ass.
“You and I have some business to attend to,” he said. “But first, an old friend would like a word with you.”
“Slumming for a deposed Hell Lord?” I asked. “Somehow I thought you’d be better than that.”
Cain leveled his gun at me. But then, the sound of sirens filled the night. Squad cars surrounded the area and even a SWAT team. Weapons were leveled on the two of us.
“Bullets won’t hurt you. But Asmodeus needs me alive, doesn’t he?” I asked. “One false move, they open fire on me, too. Try and grab me and run, that’ll give them more cause to shoot. Think you can outrun their bullets and keep me alive at the same time?”
Cain grunted and looked from side to side, taking stock of his situation. I could tell he knew I was right. Through bullhorns, the cops ordered him to drop his weapon and get down on the ground.
He did the opposite. Cain raised his gun and fired at several of the cars, causing the officers to duck. And then he ran as they opened fire. Cain hopped over the barriers and the cops chased after him, some on foot, others returning to their cars.
They’d never find him. And even if they did, they wouldn’t be able to detain him. So he was a problem I’d have to deal with again, and soon. Except now I had another problem on my hands, because the remaining cops aimed their weapons at me.
I sighed and held my hands up. “Don’t suppose you’d believe this was all a big misunderstanding?”
22
We were taken into custody and placed in holding at the O’Hare Chicago Police Department. They didn’t put us into cells, but did keep us in separate interrogation rooms. Far too many cops were at the scene to try and use my powers. I could influence two, maybe three. But there were a lot more than that. No way could I get out of there through my abilities.
So now I was sitting here, waiting for someone to come through that door. My influence worked best when the target didn’t already have a bias. But they saw me steal a cab and then get into a fight with a guy who looked like he stepped out of a Sergio Leone flick. Somehow doubted they’d be inclined to get on my good side.
The door opened and two plainclothes officers entered the room, a man and a woman. The man leaned against the door and folded his arms over his blue shirt and black tie. The woman sat in the chair across from me, wearing a white blouse and black pants. Her brown hair reached down to her shoulder and both her and her partner wore their badges on chains around their necks.
“Mr. Cross, I’m Detective Janice Wagner. The guy with the permanent scowl on his face is my partner, Detective Felix Aquino. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the incident at the airport, if that’s okay.”
“Shouldn’t I have a lawyer?” I asked.
“Do you need one?” asked Wagner, cocking her head slightly to the side. “You haven’t been charged with a crime yet, we’re just talking.”
“Then I’d like to leave,” I said. “I’ve got a plane to catch.”
“Your red-eye to Hong Kong, right?” asked Aquino. “Don’t bother, you won’t be on it.”
“Why were you planning to leave the country, Mr. Cross?” asked Wagner.
“Vacation. Wanted to check out the Philippines. Get some sun.”
“And the reason you had a revolver in your bag? Do a lot of target practice at the beach?” asked Wagner.
“That’s for protection. The Philippines can be a dangerous place,” I said.
“I pulled up some information on you, Mr. Cross. Seems your name has been mentioned in several cases over the years,” said Wagner. “Some truly bizarre ones at that. According to the business cards we found on you, you’re a paranormal investigator…?”
I smiled. “Guilty as charge.”
“Your address points to a condominium on the Gold Coast. That’s an area not exactly known for its affordable housing,” said Wagner. “Business must be good.”
“Listen, Detective Wagner…” I leaned forward and folded my hands on the table. “I don’t know what my job has to do with any of this. I was attacked. I’m an innocent victim. So why am I being treated like a criminal?”
Wagner smiled back at me, and I could tell it was a smile of annoyed condescension. “Mr. Cross, you’re being detained because of your relationship to the incident at the airport. Multiple witnesses report that the shooter was targeting you. And in your attempts to get away, you didn’t go to the police. Instead, you thought committing grand theft auto would be a good idea.”
“A man was shooting at me and I panicked,” I said.
“We checked that gun and the bullets we found in your bag,” said Aquino. “Never seen any damn weapon that looked like that. Carvings all etched on the barrel and shit. Some kinda Satanic mumbo-jumbo?”
“Pretty much the opposite,” I said. “Wards against evil spirits and the like.”
Wagner scoffed. “And you expect me to believe that?”
“Way I see it, there are two explanations,” I said. “One, I’m the real deal and I’m a bona fide demon-hunter. Or two, it’s all just smoke and mirrors I use for the benefit of my business. You can believe whichever one you like, doesn’t really matter one way or the other to me.”
“You know, Mr. Cross, we can hold you for up to seventy-two hours without formally charging you. For the benefit of everyone here, it really would be better if you cooperated with us and answered our questions,” said Wagner.
“People get kinda sensitive about active shooters in airports,” said Aquino. “Gives us some leeway when it comes to matters like this.”
“You telling me I don’t have any rights here, Detective?” I asked.
“Of course not,” said Wagner. “Detective Aquino just wants you to understand the full weight of the situation.”
I looked between the two of them. It was clear that charges or not, they weren’t planning on letting me leave before I told them whatever they wanted to know.
“Yeah, think I’m starting to get it,” I said.
“The cowboy who opened fire on you, who is he?” asked Wagner. “How did he withstand a retaliatory assault from at least a dozen officers and then run off into the night like a ghost?”
I shrugged. “Damned if I know. Maybe he was wearing a vest. Maybe he’s just a really fast runner. But last time I checked, I’m not a cop. Seems to me it’s not my job to catch bad guys—that’s all on you, Detective.”
Wagner leaned back in her chair and folded her arms as she glared at me. “Do you think this is a game, Mr. Cross?”
“I don’t know the guy.”
“Then why was he targeting you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe he’s jealous of my rugged good looks? Maybe he’s a racist bastard? You’re the detectives. Try doing some detecting.”
A knock came at the door. Both Wagner and Aquino exchanged looks of confusion. Pretty obvious this was an unexpected interruption. Either that or they were really good actors. The door opened and I felt a moment of relief, but it was also accompanied by uncertainty.
“Can I help you with something?” Aquino asked the new visitor.
He was a man in his fifties or so, with blond hair cut so close to his scalp, he was practically bald. His face bore the marks of a lifetime of service on the force and his blue eyes had a strong intensity. He held up a badge.
“Detective Wayne Cooper, Chicago PD,” he said.
“What are you doing here, Detective Cooper?” asked Aquino. “You’re not an O’Hare cop.”
“No, I’m not. But I got a call that you had a confidential informant of mine in custody.” Wayne looked at me. There wasn’t any lost love in his eyes. Shouldn’t be surprised given the last time we crossed paths.
“I doubt this has anything to do with any of your current investigations,” said Wagner, rising from her chair.
“Has Cross been charged with a crime?” asked Wayne.
“We’re just talking.”
“I don’t see a lawyer. Has he waived his right to counsel?” Wayne focused his eyes on both Wagner and Aquino. They met his gaze, but just briefly before looking away. Wayne’s face remained stoic as he gave a slow nod. “That’s what I thought. Now how about you let my CI go and in return, we
’ll chalk this whole night up to an error in judgment. Otherwise, something tells me this wouldn’t play well on WGN News.”
Wagner took a deep breath and exhaled, glancing back at me and then returning her gaze to Wayne. “You want to tell me just what kind of CI he is?”
Wayne raised one eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “You do know what the word ‘confidential’ means, don’t you?”
“Do you know what happened here tonight?” asked Aquino.
“Yeah, I’ve been brought up to speed. Now either I walk out that door with Cross or I walk out and make a few phone calls. One to my captain and a few more to some friends of mine in the press. Deal?”
“Not just me,” I added. “Don’t forget my friend.”
“Oh right, the old guy. Him, too.”
Wagner’s nostrils were flaring. You could tell she was extremely pissed by this turn of events. Aquino walked over to her from his spot by the door and whispered in her ear. I focused my hearing so I could pick up what they were saying.
“It’s not worth it,” said Aquino. “I’ve heard of this guy. He’s a damn legend in this city. Not someone you want to make an enemy of.”
“What about the case?”
“We’ve got jack and you know it. He’s not gonna crack. There’s no other option.”
Wagner sighed. “Fine. But if something else comes to light that suggests Cross was involved with this, then I’ll be making life difficult for the both of you.”
Wayne smiled and gave her a condescending nod. “Sure you will. Come on, Cross.”
I got up and smiled broadly at the two of them. “Been nice chatting with you.”
We met up with Morrison in the lobby and Wayne drove us the short distance from the police department back to the parking garage. He didn’t say anything on the drive, nor was I inclined to offer words of my own. But the tension was obvious. Especially in Wayne. His shoulders were rigid and he white-knuckled the steering wheel as he drove.
Wayne stopped his car near the Camaro. Morrison got out first and I followed. “Thanks for the assist,” I told Wayne as I climbed out.
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