Magic Revenge: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Spirit War Chronicles Book 2)

by Stephen Allan

  But my emotional side worried about the threat of Mundus, the shifting of all of humanity, and became resolute in destroying the devil.

  “I see you are considering my offer,” Tyrus said. “You do not need to make such a choice now. But I warn you, child, Berlin will not be as safe as Amsterdam.”

  That got my attention. I walked right up under his chin, holding Ivory to his jaw.

  “And what does that mean?”

  “It is quite simple, really,” Tyrus said, giving no indications of discomfort from my gun. “As time goes on, Mundus will send more demons your way, by default making it unsafe. But there is another factor which must be considered. Demons like to transport to the Earth realm in places where the link between it and the spiritual realm is strongest. Do you know where such places are?”

  I pushed my white gun harder against his chin. How would I know something about a realm that I didn’t know existed a few days ago?

  “Easy,” Tyrus said, grabbing my gun and forcefully pushing it down so he could look me in the eye. “Churches.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, humans often visit churches as a place to pray and offer glory to their deities. The result of that is that the link between the spiritual realm and the human realm is most powerful in churches. In most times, this would mean nothing, but now, with the forces of hell rising, churches allow demons an easy access point to the human realm.”

  “But wouldn’t churches…” I said, struggling.

  I wouldn’t know. I was a self-described atheist a few days ago. Whatever words I used wouldn’t accurately describe what the truth was. And even if I was a Jew or a Christian or a Muslim or a Buddhist or a Hindu or something else, their rules didn’t apply.

  “Be unsafe? Oh yes. The portals between the spiritual realm and the human realm are used by all manner of beings in the spiritual realm, not just demons. Angels prefer to stay near the portals, ready to return to do Yevon’s bidding as needed, even though such bidding is often reduced to inconsequential ‘miracles.’ But that does not change the fact that you are most likely to encounter a demon near such a place. I daresay that Mundus will make it a point of his to attack the Earthly realm through such a church.”

  I just pictured a bunch of people at church on a Sunday morning, followed by a massive eruption from within that saw thousands of demons and Mundus himself charging through the church en route to destroying a city. Suffice to say, I shuddered, and Tyrus chuckled when he saw he’d reached a fear of mine.

  “Berlin does not have quite the traditional stock of churches that many of the cities here in Europe do. But it certainly has its fair share, more than the single one you encountered in Amsterdam—one so surrounded in the Red Light District that the angels barely make more than a token effort to maintain a presence there.”

  I could see I could not argue out of this, so I had to push him away.

  “Fine,” I said. “Don’t expect me to take your offer.”

  “So you are not refusing it immediately?” Tyrus said, his smile growing wide, showing his too-perfect white teeth.

  “I need only see my friends to know what my answer will be, and it will almost certainly be no.”

  “Almost certainly does not mean definitely,” Tyrus said. “One last warning before I let you go, Sonya. I know of ways to persuade you, and I will leave it at this. The most dangerous threat to anyone is not the strongest or fastest demon. It is the demon that means the most to them. It is the demon that is personalized just for them and holds a special bond to them. Think about that when you decide whether or not to take my offer.”

  I looked at him askance, gave up trying to figure out his vague riddles, and waved him away as I lowered Ivory.

  “Duly noted,” I said sarcastically. “Now get the hell out of here and let me see my friends.”

  “Of course,” Tyrus said, disappearing into a puff of red smoke with a sadistic laugh. As soon as he disappeared, I heard knocking on the door.

  “Are you almost done?” an older woman’s voice said rather impatiently.

  “Sorry! Sorry!” I said, completely forgetting that I’d come into the toilet to actually use it. But unsure of how much real time had actually elapsed, I just got out. An older British lady stared at me with judgment in her narrowed eyes. I just walked past her, murmuring an apology, knowing nothing I could say would make a difference. The hell was I supposed to do, say I’d just had a run in with a demon who liked offering me deals that seemed to have hidden meanings?

  I hastily walked back to my compartment. I brushed Brady’s feet from my seat and sat. DJ gave me an inquisitive look, but my face told him we would talk later. It wasn’t because I had any secrets to keep—no one needed to stay out of the loop on hell. But I did need some time to process what was offered to me.

  Because… damnit, maybe there was something to it.

  The most intriguing factor was that it would give me the chance to keep not just my friends safe, but most of humanity. And I’d get near Mundus. If I were near Mundus, I could surprise him, and if I had the chance…

  No. No! Humanity wouldn’t stay safe. They’d become mindless slaves and die at the hands of the forces of heaven. That wasn’t safe, that was just slavery. I couldn’t believe I’d even let myself fall into the trap of thinking about the deal in the first place!

  I was so embarrassed and humiliated that I cursed loudly. Brady looked at me from the side, but I especially didn’t want to talk to anyone now. Eventually, he put his headphones on, the Brits kept theirs on, and DJ humanely allowed me to fume as he looked at his book.

  I angrily put my own headphones on, playing the EDM music of Zedd, hoping to fall into a trance and out of my own sea of self-loathing.

  Chapter 3

  Though conversation resumed eventually, I kept out of it. I felt too much anger at myself to feel comfortable engaging with other people, though once the conductor announced we only had an hour until Berlin, I made a small crack to Brady about reaching his dreamland. It wasn’t the kind of remark that brought uproar and comedy-club laughter, but it did thaw the ice enough that no one felt nervous looking at or talking with me.

  The sun had set for a few hours when we reached the main station in our new city, Berlin Hauptbahnhof. Unlike in Amsterdam, where the station was relatively small and immediately opened up to a scenic plaza full of street performers and other forms of transportation, the station—better named Berlin Hbf—was a massive entity which looked more like a high-rising airport terminal. The platform that we got off of was one of over twenty—though only four tracks sat on the level we came to—and when we descended the escalators out of the actual platforms, I was surprised to see we were actually on the fifth floor. I glanced over the railing and couldn’t even see all the floors below me.

  American airports spread out, but this place rose up, as if someone tried to squeeze Logan International Airport into a Manhattan apartment complex. I saw a Burger King, a McDonald’s, a Dunkin Donuts (I briefly considered grabbing DD as a homage to my home address before remembering how much shame I would deserve for eating donuts in Europe)—and something I hadn’t seen before but had heard plenty about. Currywurst Express, a store containing the food most sworn to me as the best by coworkers in America.

  I knew I shouldn’t eat. It was almost 9 p.m., and we still had a taxi cab to catch… but that sandwich had done nothing to fill me up. Too much time in the bathroom, not enough protein, too much unhealthy spread.

  I approached the cashier by myself, leaving the group waiting at the next escalator down to taxi pickup, and paused to look at the menu. I could get pommes frites, or just regular fries, with the currywurst and a drink for five euros.

  “Ya,” an elder man said behind the counter. When he looked at me, I noticed the bite mark on his neck. His eyes didn’t seem any different, but if I wanted the currywurst…

  What the hell. It’s not an STD or cooties.

  “Take the currywurst combo with lemonade, ple
ase,” I said, pleading that nothing was about to happen.

  I pulled out my five euro bill and handed it to him. As soon as he accepted the bill, I put my hands on my hips as if impatiently waiting. But in reality, I was placing them right on my trusted guns, Ebony and Ivory, just in case the shifter inside him awoke. The man took the bill without saying a word, placed a long sausage in a meat grinder, placed the sausage bits in a tray, poured a sauce that looked like BBQ all over them, sprinkled some seasoning, and handed me the food. It was as quick a serving as anything I’d ever seen in fast food, but frankly, I was grateful. The last thing I needed was a gunfight in the middle of a German train station because a giant demon lion appeared before me.

  I quickly hurried down to meet DJ, waiting for me.

  “Couldn’t wait to devour some sausage, huh?” he said with a smirk on his face.

  “Yeah, getting my fill now so I don’t think about it later,” I said with a quick eye roll. But I quickly leaned in and lowered my voice. “I do have to tell you, though. The guy at the counter had a bite mark.”

  “Unfortunate. I think we’ll be seeing a lot more.”

  “Yeah. Whatever hope we had of Berlin remaining relatively unharmed for a bit is gone. I don’t think we’ll have to wait long for some excitement.”

  “Just promise me that I’ll get to fight with you this time. As in, fight with you, not fight when you happen to come into the same alley and I have to rescue the princess.”

  I sipped on my lemonade and cocked an eyebrow.

  “That’s cute, but you should know by now when I was a kid, I didn’t want to be a princess, I wanted to be a gold medalist in boxing,” I said. “You can join. If you can keep up, writer boy.”

  He tried to argue, but I just playfully laughed and walked toward the cab. I knew a man who could shift into a dragon would be more than able to fight, but damn was it fun messing with him.

  When I walked outside, I saw Brady and the Brits piling into one cab. Which meant…

  “You set this up on purpose, didn’t you?” I said, turning around as DJ walked with his hands in his pockets.

  He innocently shrugged.

  “I just gave them the address and told them our hosts would have cookies waiting for them.”

  “And do they?”

  DJ held up a hand, reached for his phone, texted for about 15 seconds, and then put it away.

  “They will now.”

  I groaned but saw no way of rectifying his move. And truth be told, it wasn’t the worst thing to happen.

  But, still.

  We both piled in a cab in the back after I had finished my currywurst, delightfully enjoying the tangy sauce and small meat pieces that filled my stomach far more than the awful train sandwich had.

  “Wohin?” the taxi cab driver said, asking us where we were going in German.

  Finally, a chance to speak without DJ understanding. Poor guy. He’d have to rely on me now to get him to his house.

  “Marzahn, danke. Die genaue Adresse sage ich Ihnen wenn wir dort sind,” I said, explaining in German to take us to the Marzahn neighborhood and that I would give further instructions when we got there.

  I turned to DJ and smirked. “Where would you be without me?”

  DJ smiled back, giving way too confident of an expression.

  “Ich weiß es nicht. Nicht verloren.”

  What. Seriously. The dude could speak perfect German and had just told me he wouldn’t really be lost without me. I was so shocked I forgot to buckle my seatbelt until the cab driver took a sharp turn out of the station.

  “You’re full of surprises,” is all I could finally muster, drawing a hearty laugh from DJ.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he responded.

  The car ride went silent as I took in the sights of Berlin. I saw the Berlin TV Tower which bore a poor man’s resemblance to the Space Needle in Seattle—though I suspected Germans who visited Seattle thought the opposite. I saw numerous billboards that reminded me of being in an American city of any kind, some impressive restaurants of diverse cuisines, and incredible parks with lights shining upon them, even this late at night. I also saw a far greater diversity of people than I had expected, which, come to think of it, made sense—Germany, more than any other country in Europe, accepted refugees at incredibly generous rates. I knew my job required me to stay out of the politics of such matters, but I couldn’t help but wish more countries followed Deutschland’s lead. At the very least, it made Berlin feel like New York City more than any other place in Europe.

  It didn’t take us more than a dozen minutes to reach the neighborhood, and I was about to start giving directions when DJ interrupted me and provided the first turn. Not one to be outdone, I spoke next before both of us finally gave the last turn, much to the amusement of the cab driver. DJ threw the cab driver two twenty euro bills and we exited the cab. The other cab had not yet made it, but that didn’t worry me too much since Brady spoke German.

  “Big old Jack. I haven’t seen you in ages,” a soft, gentle voice said from the doorstep.

  Big old Jack. I’m gonna have to remember that one.

  “You neither, Caitlin. You doing all right out here?”

  DJ walked eagerly to a younger girl, also wearing glasses, albeit with thinner frames than I. She sported a bowl cut of brown hair, slightly brown skin and wore sweatpants. DJ hugged her with a ferocity that I didn’t get—no, I didn’t get jealous—and talked about how they hadn’t seen each other in years. I hadn’t seen DJ light up and seem so… normal since I’d met him. The air of mystery had vanished, perhaps because with this girl there was no air of mystery.

  “I hope you aren’t tired, Jack. We’re going clubbing tonight and you guys should come.”

  I recoiled at that thought as I walked up to introduce myself. Even after my nap and plenty of sleep the night before, I was exhausted (and having constant dreams of demons only made it worse). Just once, just one damn night, I wanted to go to sleep before midnight without having any concerns. The only night I’d slept well was when I went out with DJ, and wouldn’t you know it, he had me up until past 2 a.m. No way. No. I would not do it.

  “I like the sound of that,” DJ said.

  Uh, what?

  “By the way, I would like you to meet my girlfriend, Sonya.”

  Uhhhhhhhhhh, what?

  “Sonya, this is Caitlin, childhood friend of mine. I’ve known her since I was eight years old.”

  Girlfriend. Girlfriend? You actually said that? You’re lucky as hell Brady isn’t here. You’re lucky I don’t want to scare off our hosts. You bastard.

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” she said as we shook hands. I prayed my reaction didn’t make Caitlin suspicious.

  “Likewise, thank you for hosting us,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.

  “Of course. Hey, Jack, Sarah’s setting some things up, so let me go take care of her, but come on in.”

  I held DJ back as Caitlin ran up a short flight of stairs. Once I knew I had space, I smacked his arm as hard as I could.

  “Girlfriend?!?” I whispered loudly. “What the fuck?!?”

  “It was the easiest title to give you that didn’t require awkward looks or explanations,” he said with remarkable calm, even as he rubbed his arm. “Besides, don’t act like you don’t want to head there.”

  Dude… I… you… that is not the point! Whether we do…

  Sonya!

  Before I could say another word, DJ leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Thanks for understanding, girlfriend.”

  I wished I’d slapped his cheek instead of his arm. But he quickly ducked in the house before I could do anything else.

  “Earn the right to call me your girlfriend first, asshole,” I mumbled under my breath, trying to suppress the smile that almost formed at that thought.

  I let my smile genuinely come back once I walked inside, making careful sure to be grateful and show kindness to our hosts. I ascended the white
carpeted stairs and looked around the place.

  It was an incredibly tidy place, one extremely well-kept up, with no stray dishes, food crumbs, or stains of any kind. Two pictures, both of what looked like Australian beaches, hung from the walls exactly opposite of each other. It felt like a very German thing to have this place perfectly organized and set up for us, but it made me feel like I’d come to the right place to reduce my stress level. If they kept this place this clean, I knew they wouldn’t have chosen to live in a dangerous neighborhood.

  “Welcome,” a petite girl with blonde hair to her shoulders and brown eyes said. “I’m Sarah, girlfriend of Caitlin.”

  “Thank you for hosting us, you know this crazy guy as well?”

  “Know him? I grew up with him! I can give you any gossip you want on Jack.”

  Gossip on Jack. Hmm. The things I could ask.

  I looked at Jack—DJ; I knew him as DJ, Jack seemed too normal—with a cocky smirk. Now I had the power. Now I could toy with him, not the other way around. I could torment him by asking Caitlin and Sarah all the questions I wanted.

  “However, the gossip I wanna know about is how you two met,” Caitlin said. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Jack. That seems rather unlike you.”

  Does it, I thought. My smile became sarcastic as my eyes widened and my head tilted to the side.

  “People change, you know,” he said. He was calm and cool, but I sensed a slight amount of discomfort. I didn’t want to be that girl who inquired incessantly about his history with women… but I was curious. “Funny story. We actually met back in the States a few months back. Just hit it off and we both love to travel.”

  Boy, you—

  “Did you plan this trip together?” Sarah said with an air of hopeful romance.

  I decided to end this nonsense. It would make DJ look bad, but it would save us uglier embarrassment later when the truth came out.

  “Nah, we—,” I said, but DJ spoke up immediately and, to my amazement, took what I said and twisted it to fit his own reality.

  “That’s part of why we bonded. We found out we were going to Europe at the same time and we just went from there.”