Hot Blooded

by D V Wolfe

  “Gabe, I’m not arguing with you. I’ve got a plan. They need you here. I’m going to be just peachy,” I said.

  “What is your plan?” Gabe asked.

  “Nigel. He sees everything that goes on at that church. He also cleans the place and if there’s anything like a summoning circle in one of the Sunday school rooms, he’s probably going to have a good idea of where it is. I’m going over to see him first and then poke around at the church. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I grabbed the sawed-off from the table. I paused and then picked up Rosetta’s pink fanny pack. I clipped it on and jammed a handful of shells into it. Gabe snorted. I glared up at him, daring him to say anything about the pack.

  “It really ties the outfit together,” Gabe choked, looking over my blood-stained a-shirt and dirty jeans and sneakers.

  “It’s handy,” I muttered, reaching for more shells.

  “At least take this,” Gabe said, handing me a small leather pouch.

  “What is it?” I asked. “A hex bag?”

  Gabe nodded. “One of my hex bags. Trust me, I’ll feel better knowing that at least you have that on you...not in your fanny pack.” I glared at him, but I reached for it, and my fingers brushed over his. I drew back and just held my palm out beneath it. He paused and then he dropped it into my hand.

  “Thanks,” I said, stuffing it into my jeans pocket. “There, not in my fanny pack.” I shifted the contents of the fanny pack to cram more shells in. “Also,” I said, looking at the silver bullets lined up on the table. “I want my .45 back. I’m hoping it’s in the church’s lost and found.”

  “I’m sure that’s exactly where it is,” Gabe said with a snort.

  I shrugged. “Who knows. But maybe when I find it, it’ll be attached to a demon and what fun that will be. I’ve also been itching for an opportunity to use the sword again. It’s just not very discreet. After last time though, I don’t really care. I just want to shiv these assholes.”

  “I could see that,” Gabe said. There was an awkward pause when he looked like he wanted to say more and I felt like I did too. But, instead of saying anything, I headed back inside. I didn’t know what to say to Gabe. When I thought about it, I realized that I didn’t need to say anything. Not now anyway. I was going to be back in a couple of hours. Maybe I’d think of something by then.

  I passed by Rosetta and Noah making a list of things to get, and Stacks and Tags arguing over a translation. I headed down the hallway and bent down to open the trapdoor.

  “Hey Bane,” Stacks called after me. I turned to look at him. “Don’t get dead.”

  I gave him a salute and dropped down the hole, pulling the trap door closed overhead. There was no moon and lots of crap to trip on, but I managed to make it to Lucy without incident. Either the demon search party hadn’t made it out this far to look for their lost comrade or they just didn’t give a crap. I figured it was probably a little of column A, little of column B. I motored out of the clearing, not turning on Lucy’s headlights until I was on the main road and blocks away from the trailer park. I wound through Messina, checking for a tail but not seeing one. When I got to New Covenant’s neighborhood, I turned down Cypress and started looking for Nigel’s navy blue house. The house was dark. I circled the block and parked on a side street around the corner so Lucy wouldn’t be immediately visible to anyone that happened to head over to New Covenant for some midnight praying. I debated taking the sawed-off with me and then I decided to leave it behind the seat. I’d pick it up before going over to New Covenant, along with the sword, but I wouldn’t need it to talk to Nigel.

  I strolled down the sidewalk to Nigel’s house and knocked on the front door. He was probably in bed. I hadn’t checked the time before coming over. Hopefully, he wasn’t too pissed. A flash of memory hit me. Nigel, fending off the other churchgoers, telling us to take the book and run. Shit. I hoped he was ok. Maybe I should head to the hospital to look for him. I was about to turn and head back down the walkway when the door was flung open and I blinked into the darkness. “Nigel?”

  A hand shot forward and grabbed me by the front of my shirt. I tried to pull back, but the hand had a surprisingly strong hold on me. It jerked back into the house, into the darkness, dragging me with it. I kicked out and something hard hit me in the face. I felt the reeling shock behind my eyes for a moment and then the darkness took me.

  18

  I was on the floor. It wasn’t a wood floor. It was uneven and cold. It felt like stone. Did I screw up and go to New Covenant first? No. I remembered knocking on Nigel’s front door. Oh, man. Did they have Nigel? Had they seen me talking to him? Did they expect me to come to his house looking for him? Had they killed the old man to keep him from telling me anything? Damn it. If I got him killed... My left eye wouldn’t open, but I was able to blink with my right and there was a flickering light somewhere near me. A fire? In July? I turned my head slightly, wincing as the muscles in my neck protested. The fire was in a fireplace. A huge one. Way too big for a bungalow row house. The grate was six feet long at least and about four feet wide. I hadn’t seen a grate this size since Sister Smile’s camp. That thought felt odd. Why would Nigel have a fireplace like this?

  “I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow,” Nigel said, coming into the room, carrying a tray.

  I groaned as I sat up and looked at him. He wasn’t beaten up and he didn’t look freshly tortured. “You’re ok. I thought the demons had gone to town on you.”

  He set the tray down and settled into one of the armchairs in front of me. He picked up his pack of cigarettes from the side table next to the tray and tossed me one. “No, the demons don’t scare me. And they wouldn’t dare set foot in my home.”

  I picked up the cigarette and stared at him. “Then who hit me?”

  Nigel lit his cigarette and took a long drag. “I did,” he said on the exhale.

  “What?” I asked, realizing for the first time I couldn’t feel anything below my waist. “Why? I mean, I know it’s late but…”

  “You came at a bad time,” Nigel said. And then I heard it, soft and pitiful. Someone was whimpering. I turned and squinted towards the far side of the room. Through a doorway, I could see feet on what looked like the kitchen floor. Whoever it was was laying on their back, toes up, and shaking violently. I tried to stand to get to them, but my legs were dead weight. “Nigel, what did you do to me?”

  He shook his head. “You know I like Messina. I didn’t think I would. Ridiculous spit of land, in a forgotten corner of a ho-hum state, in a country that has two coasts and something no one can remember in the middle. But I’ve become fond of this little town. Everyone here is so trusting.”

  Fuck. This wasn’t good. I thought I was going to a friend for help. Instead, I’d walked right into the lap of the head demon. Great job, Bane.

  “Berith?” I asked. The fire in the fireplace died down momentarily and then blazed again.

  Nigel chuckled. “No, I’m not some pissant demon about to declare war on all humans. Honestly, these losers act like they invented taking human tributes.” Nigel got to his feet and went to the mantle. He pulled down a bottle of something black and poured himself a glass. “Now there was a time when I was racking up a body count faster than these slobs, but over the years, I’ve learned to be more subtle. I’ve slimmed down, changed my diet and I only take the ones no one will miss now. Well, and the ones who won’t leave well enough alone.”

  Something dawned on me. “You’re the one who killed Royson, Ellie, and Barbara?”

  Nigel nodded. “They couldn’t just move on with their lives. They had their old church back, they didn’t need to keep harping on about what was happening over at New Covenant.”

  “So you are working with the demons,” I said.

  “Hardly. They don’t even realize who I am. No matter. I’ve learned to keep a low profile,” Nigel said.

  “Why did you help them then?” I asked. “Why did you kill the people speaking out against the demons?
”

  “I already told you,” Nigel said. “I like to keep a low profile. Those three Bible-thumpers were keeping New Covenant and its...leadership constantly on everyone’s minds. It had to be done. They had to be silenced.” He finished off the black liquid from his glass and traded it for a mug of something hot from the tray he’d carried in. He gave me a mirthless smile. “It would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy doing it. Watching all three of those self-righteous do-gooders succumb to severe depression. The irony of it was delicious. Suicide. Can you think of a more agonizing way for a self-important and high-profile religious person to go?”

  Hot anger was bubbling in my chest. “I’ve been told all the head dickbags downstairs have names. So, what’s your’s? The name Nigel just doesn’t seem all that imposing. Are you a third-spear carrier from the left kind of demon? Or are you more of the Disney Princess variety?” The mirthless smile was on Nigel’s lips again and a crippling pain unlike any I’d ever felt before tore through my gut. It wasn’t the shock and sharp pain of a stab wound or a bullet passing through me. It was a dull, agonizing ache as if my insides were melting. I started panting, trying to pull in oxygen against the pain. Nigel flicked his finger in my direction and my arms, that had been supporting the weight of my upper body, collapsed. I banged my head against the stone floor. I could feel my arms and legs, but I couldn’t move them. Meanwhile, my guts felt like they were turning to pudding. I bit down on my tongue, resisting the urge to cry out in pain. He’d probably get off on it. I kept my gaze locked with Nigel’s. After a moment, the mirthless smile fell away and he turned back to the mug in his hand.

  “I’ve already told you,” Nigel said, pausing to take a sip. “I’m not some pissant demon.” He paused and returned the mug to the tray. “But, they have their uses. I knew that friend of yours was examining the crime scenes after the police, so I planted a little sulfuric evidence to lead him right to the demons. For me, it was a win-win situation. Demons kill hunters, fine. Better still, hunters kill demons, then leave Messina for their next hunt and my world returns to its status quo.”

  “Then why did you help me against the imps?”I wheezed. “You could have just let them kill me,” I said. This didn’t make any sense. “Wouldn’t that have been right in line with your ‘kill the hunters’ option?”

  Nigel shook his head. “It was too late by then. The demons had already seen me talking to you. They believe I’m just a simple janitor, but they’re secretive and they know you’re a hunter. So, to keep up this charade, I had to look as though I’d thrown my lot in with yours. At that point, the best scenario I could come up with was you killing all the demons and then moving on, leaving me alone to continue my...subtle existence.”

  If Nigel wasn’t a demon, what the hell was he? There were a lot of supers that preyed on humans. He’d lit another cigarette and the cloves smell drifted over to me. Festus had told me that cloves had healing properties for demons. He had to be a demon. Maybe he was in hiding? Regardless, as I watched him staring at me, almost amused as I lay paralyzed on the floor, I really wanted to kill him. I’d considered Nigel an ally. And he’d burned me.

  He sighed. “Of course, I didn’t foresee you coming to my house tonight, interrupting something important and forcing my hand. Now, I’ll have to drag what’s left of your corpse over to the church and make it look like the demons finally got you.” He chuckled to himself. “At least I can choose where to leave your body. That what when they call me to take care of it tomorrow, it’ll be an easy cleanup.” He got up and moved back towards the mantle. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a sword with a long curved blade. He rolled his wrist, flicking the sword through the air as if it weighed nothing. “You know I haven’t used this in so long. Of course, my… specialty doesn’t make physical touch necessary. But with someone like you, I have to make exceptions. If you had the inkling to kill yourself, you would have done it long before now. I see the guilt, the self-pity, and the defeat you carry. But you’re stubborn,” he looked up at the sword in his hand. “And this will be a good refresher for me.” He dropped his gaze, looking me over like a butcher with a fresh carcass in front of him. “Where should I start? Your legs will be coming back around. The heartbreak grass tincture should be wearing off. I didn’t make it strong. I just needed you to be subdued long enough for me to clean up and have time for this little chat. Of course, now, you’re experiencing a form of ALS of my own creation. All the pain, with no ability to do anything about it, at an accelerated rate, and a reasonable price.” He grinned down at me. “After all, it wouldn’t be any fun if you couldn’t feel it.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “It would be twice as much fun if you’d let me return the favor.”

  “Maybe we start higher,” Nigel said. “I’d go right for your mouth, but you haven’t screamed yet and that’s my favorite part. Another thing I haven’t gotten to enjoy lately. All part of keeping a low profile. This really is a treat. Killing you will be like having my dessert before having to eat my vegetables.” He nodded towards the kitchen, before raising his sword again. “I’m actually quite good with this blade,” I tried to struggle away but I couldn’t move. He leaned forward and pressed the tip of the blade against my chest, digging into my sternum, cutting through my a-shirt. He sliced downward, not letting the blade sink in too deeply. I sucked in a breath. I wasn’t going to scream and give this asshole the satisfaction. “I could paint you a picture. I’m afraid the only color I have to work with is red right now. Sometimes the vital organs have darker blood, so I might be able to get some good shading in before you completely leave us.” He leaned back, withdrawing the blade so that he could survey his work. He frowned. “So messy. There’s no elegance in bleeding you out like this. But, it’s exactly what the demons would do, and we’re going for authenticity.” He winked at me. “And if I’m being honest with myself, it is kind of...fun to get my hands dirty from time to time.” He was back to looking me over as if he couldn’t decide where to stick the sword next. I could only move my eyes, well right eye, at this point. My left was so swollen, I couldn’t lift the lid. Even my tongue had turned to dead weight in my mouth. I needed a plan. I needed an option. Anything.

  I was probably starting to hallucinate out of shock and dread of what was coming, but I could swear I saw someone moving in Nigel’s backyard. The movement was getting closer, coming right at his sliding backdoor. There was a sound of glass shattering and Nigel turned his head to look. Whatever had just broken in was moving too quickly for me to make out what it was. It hit Nigel in the face, knocking him back. Instantly, I felt a pressure lift off of my limbs. Pins and needles were tearing up and down my arms and legs, but I could wiggle my fingers and I could feel my toes moving in my sneakers.

  Glass was shattering and bone was banging off of stone as Nigel fought with whatever had just attacked him. I stared at the pair of them. Nigel had gotten on top of his attacker and was muttering something. A leg swung out from under him and kicked him in the side of the head. I tried to move my limbs. I needed to help. I looked down to see them moving. They were slow and clumsy, but they were moving. Nigel and his attacker rolled into me and I saw Nigel’s hand raise. Somewhere in the scuffle, he’d managed to pick back up his sword. I put every ounce of strength I had into my leg as I kicked up. My shoe connected with the hilt in Nigel’s hand and it fell to the floor beside me. My limbs were protesting, but I told them to suck it up and I scrambled after it. Nigel slammed his attacker’s head into the stone and turned to face me. He staggered to his feet when he saw I was going after the sword and he kicked me in the ribs to slow me down. And then Nigel was on the ground beside me. He was screaming and his attacker was on him again, clawing and scratching and screaming. It was a sound I’d never heard before. My ears were pounding from the assault and I grabbed the sword, trying to crawl away from the chaos. Some kind of wild animal was attacking Nigel. Whatever it was, good for it.

  I used his armchair to pull myself up to my feet
and I stumbled toward the kitchen. I had to see if the human he had in there was still alive. She wasn’t. Her wrists had been slit. I tripped on the drop cloth he’d put under her, presumably to catch the blood. He’d planned to relocate her. Her eyes were glassy and I recognized her from the church. She was the older woman I’d seen in the back row, talking to Nigel, yesterday, when we’d gone in for the book. I guess I wasn’t the only one who trusted him and got burned. Nigel was screaming now, his screams mixing with the screams of the thing attacking him. I spun around. The creature had ears and a tail, and in the flickering firelight looked almost like a horse, beating the shit out of Nigel. Blood was flying everywhere. Hers and his. Streaks of black and bright red painted her face and Nigel was laying on the ground under her, struggling to get up.