by Michael Todd
Yeah. Pandora laughed. I think we kill each other more than we kill other people. Of course, when we kill each other it just shoves us down in hell a little farther, and a powerful demon like my brother? He would be gone long enough that his ability to keep control would break. It could take him centuries to climb back to his present position. I think that’s why we keep killing each other—we never fully get that satisfaction. When a human kills another human in this world, they never have to look at those dead-assed faces again. In our world, it’s only a matter of time. That’s why I don’t get why my brother is trying so desperately to send me into the depths of hell. Even if he is successful, I’ll still come back up and curse him out as I shove a red-hot poker up his ass and send him down for a while himself. There has to be some kind of final death, but I’m just not sure what it is yet.
I would not want to be there when that happened if you can come back, Katie replied. I can’t imagine there is much shopping in the depths of hell. I can totally see you being more than pissed when you came back up.
Last time I nearly decapitated him, she confided. I was planning to set his head on my mantle with its mouth taped shut for a few centuries.
You guys need family counseling. Katie giggled, putting a hand over her mouth.
Had it…he ate the counselor. She chuckled. Right out of her damn chair. It was a real shame.
You guys are unreal, Katie replied. I’m glad I was an only child.
There was a pause in their talk before Pandora broke the silence. I have to tell you something, Katie, Pandora whispered.
Yes? Katie asked.
I didn’t change your hands…
“She is going to have a tough time with this conversation.” Calvin said to Katie, “so try to be nice.”
“What?” Katie sat back, looking at Calvin, hurt in her eyes. “I am nice.”
“Yeah,” Calvin replied. He stood up when Charlotte came into Bootlegger.
“You look tired.” Calvin showed Charlotte to the table.
“It’s been a long week.” She sighed, sitting down and scooching over a bit in the booth. “This is a great restaurant, by the way. I ate here last time I was in Vegas.”
“Yeah, apparently Katie likes coming back to the scene of the crime.” Calvin chuckled.
“What crime?” Charlotte looked back and forth between the two of them.
“Nothing,” Katie replied before Calvin could chime in. “I just really like the food here, and sometimes I have to overcome my weaknesses before I can move on. Apparently Calvin is perfect.”
“It’s about time you noticed,” Calvin replied, rubbing her shoulder. “I thought I was going to go the rest of my life without someone paying attention and providing a qualified opinion about my perfection.”
“If you aren’t careful, I’ll make that time really short,” Katie replied with a smile.
“You guys act like siblings,” Charlotte cut in, watching them.
“We are family.” Calvin shrugged.
“That must be nice.” Charlotte smiled. “My publication is a whorehouse of people just trying to get featured, and my real family isn’t much to speak of either. That’s why Aunt Chloe was so important.”
“I’m sorry.” Katie winced slightly. “My real family was just my mother.”
“Not me.” Calvin rolled his eyes. “I had the biggest family on the planet.”
“Well, now that I am facing my weakness,” Katie said, opening the menu. “I have to decide what I want to get.”
The only weakness is your body, Pandora quipped. And pain is weakness leaving that body, so the more in pain you get the stronger we both become. I suggest the ravioli and the steak.
Katie ordered the steak and left it at that, deciding that Pandora’s sighs could be dealt with later. There was no way she was eating that much in front of Calvin and Charlotte. It was bad enough that the waitresses and bartender remembered her from last time and were standing around to find out what she was going to order.
“So,” Calvin began, “tell us what you found out.”
Charlotte took a bite of the little bread squares and wiped her fingers on her table napkin. “Well, I went into that pawn shop and was able to look at the video footage,” she told them. “I saw the guy’s face, but didn’t’ recognize him right away. I was walking past a news stand the next day, though, and there that asshole was, smiling for the camera. He is a Los Angeles politician, specifically a Democratic senator. He is known for his sideways politics. He gives the public what they want, as long as his hand is in that cookie jar too.”
“Like every other politician in the world,” Katie said, rolling her eyes.
And in hell, because there are a lot of them down there, Pandora added.
“So here are the screenshots from the video footage, and this is the picture from the paper,” Charlotte said, laying them out on the table. “His name is Senator Woodruff. Community favorite, made his way up from the slums. A real rags-to-riches story.”
“Gee, I wonder how that happened,” Katie snarked.
“Yeah,” Charlotte said. “Anyway, this is your guy. And after this last demon attack, it only solidifies that more since it was in LA and he is from there.”
“You did really great work,” Calvin said.
“Oh, and I sent the camera,” Katie said.
“I got it.” Charlotte nodded. “Thanks a lot.”
“So,” Calvin said, folding his hands in front of him on the table, “here is my side of the deal. On our team, I am the second. I take control if Korbin dies or becomes incapacitated. Now, along with that duty, I am also entrusted with the relationships across all the mercenary teams. That means I know everyone on every team, especially the team seconds. I’ve been speaking with someone since we made this deal, and I asked that person some very pointed questions so they would understand the severity of what we were trying to make happen. Charlotte, this is not a normal circumstance, and if it hadn’t been so serious we would have laughed and walked away or just lied and told you that we had no idea what you were talking about. This isn’t a game, though. There are people’s lives at risk, and like we’ve been trying to tell you with your stories, if those lives are put out there to the public, they become more at risk.”
“I understand,” Charlotte said. “I mean, I think I do.”
“What he is trying to say is, you need to keep your mouth shut,” Katie added while eating a breadstick.
“Be nice,” Calvin growled.
“What? I am.” Katie shrugged. “You are a guy, so I’m going to tell it to her straight. I’m all for girl power, but I will power my girlie foot up your ass, Charlotte, if you talk about this stuff. Capiche?”
“Now,” Calvin continued, ignoring Katie, “everyone in this risks getting caught breaking some very serious, very dangerous rules. You, my dear, are the one with the most to lose in this whole deal, because if you say anything—accident or not—you will have your mind wiped. That means you will have to start over in your career…everything. Are you sure you are willing to risk that?”
The reporter took a deep breath as tears slowly made their way down her face and nodded.
Katie looked at her strangely, since she had forgotten what it was like to have a really good cry. Calvin noticed her expression and elbowed her in the side. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a generic burner phone and hit the speed dial for the team second of Hudson’s Hitmen, then lifted the phone to his ear and waited.
“Hey, it’s Calvin from Korbin’s,” he said. “Can you put Chloe on the phone? I have someone here who really would like to speak to her.”
Calvin nodded his head in response to some question they couldn’t hear. “Yeah, I got it.” He passed the phone to Charlotte.
She just held the phone for a minute waiting for Chloe to answer, then tears started streaming down her face. Katie handed her a napkin and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder.
“Aunt Chloe?” Charlotte whispered, look
ing down at the table.
Calvin looked at Katie with pride, puffing out his chest. Katie didn’t know if it was Pandora or what, but her only response was a small smile and a roll of her eyes. She got excited, though, when her food was set down in front of her.
Maybe she needed to work on her social skills a little bit more for the future.
Calvin leaned over and spoke in her ear. “I know you are hungry, but you aren’t reacting like a human with a heart at the moment.”
When dinner was over, Calvin covered the tab and Charlotte thanked them over and over for letting her talk to Chloe. She knew she would probably never see her again, but just knowing she was safe and she was alive made Charlotte feel a hell of a lot better—and not so alone anymore. That was one thing Katie could relate with, not feeling alone anymore.
They walked out the door together before going their separate ways.
Just then, Pandora popped into her head like clockwork.
That reporter, as sweet and disgusting as that scene just was, ruined my dinner, Pandora bitched.
How? We ate, Katie told her, striding to the SUV and opening the door.
We ate a steak, she stated, when we could have spent the entire evening stuffing you full of food again. Seriously, that is like the best place ever. We could have had another all-night food fest.
Well, I’m telling you right now that I’m not overeating another damn thing until you explain why my new bras are already too tight, Katie barked. Like, we just got these damn things. You promised me when we gorged on donuts that you would only work on muscle, not curves.
I did only work on the muscle, Pandora protested.
Why do I not believe you? Katie asked suspiciously.
Hey, breasts have muscles too, she said innocently.
Oh. My. God, Katie growled. You made my breast muscles larger?
Yeah. You said muscles, so I took the leftover protein and calories and built your pecs up. She snickered. Voila! Big beautiful boobies which don’t need a bra.
Never say that again, Katie said, slamming her door. Never!
Which part? Pandora wondered. Big? Beautiful? Boobies? Or no bra?
Five minutes later Katie responded, BIG, you slut!
Oh.
Chapter 25
Things had finally gotten back to normal around the base.
Everyone was training on a daily basis, the intel was flowing in steadily, and Katie seemed to be back to her old self once more.
When Damian got back he’d had a long, extensive talk with Korbin about what had happened in the cemetery that night, and Korbin had told him he needed some time to think about everything.
He didn’t call Katie in or let her know that he knew, just took time to think about what the next steps might be and what he was supposed to do with the information.
After dinner that night, Damian wandered around the complex, trying to find Korbin. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t in his office or the office at the company next door, either. Damian checked his room and the chapel, but still no sign of Korbin.
Finally he decided to go up to the roof, and he found him up there. He was sipping scotch while lounging on a chaise and contemplatively watching the sun drop behind the mountains.
It was clear from the scotch and the look on his face that he was thinking about more than swords and weapons. His mind was obviously clouded with a million other things—and it made Damian a little nervous, since he was there to talk further about Katie and what Korbin believed would be the best course of action.
Damian felt like he had become Katie’s protector, in a way.
“Hey, boss.” Damian plopped down in the chair next to Korbin.
“We don’t use this roof enough,” Korbin remarked, looking at his glass as he swirled the amber liquid. “We spent the money to decorate it. It looks really nice and the view is killer, but no one ever comes up here to enjoy it. I sure as hell don’t.”
“I remember when we decorated it.” Damian chuckled. “We were so confused about what the hell the decorator meant by ‘stucco.’”
“I thought it was some kind of cake.” Korbin shrugged and took a sip. “I went to every baker in the city trying find it.”
“Who knew it was just a strange paint?” Damian laughed.
“Painting technique,” Korbin corrected.
“Ah yes, technique.” Damian nodded.
Korbin looked at Damian. “You want some?”
“Sure,” Damian said, watching him pour three fingers of Glenlivet into a Glencarin whiskey glass. “Fancy glass.”
“You like those? They were the higher-ups’ Christmas present to me last year.” He chuckled. “Obviously they don’t know me in the least. I once drank homemade whiskey from a tin cup in the middle of the desert. I’m not picky about my drinkware.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Damian commented.
“The tin cup or the whiskey?” Korbin asked.
“The sand,” Damian clarified. “You don’t take to the sun really well. I remember the pool party last year. You ended up looking like a freaking lobster.”
“Oh, God, that was miserable.” He chuckled. “I couldn’t sit down for a week. Anyway, what brings you up to the roof tonight?”
“I was looking for you,” he replied. “I wanted to find out if you had come to a decision.”
Korbin took a sip of his scotch and leaned his head back, watching the last of the sun dip below the horizon. He sat there quietly for several moments, just thinking.
Damian sipped his drink and glanced around as he waited for his boss to reply. Finally, he pursed his lips and looked at Korbin.
“Without faith,” Korbin began, “Humanity will fail. That is not a question or a maybe, it is an absolute. And I don’t necessarily mean faith in a higher being, though there is nothing wrong with that. What I am talking about is faith in people, in yourself, in the truth, and in the hard choices. Without that faith, humanity doesn’t stand a chance in the future.”
“I agree.” Damian smiled.
Korbin looked at Damian. “I just hope that my faith is not misplaced.”
“It isn’t,” Damian replied.
“How do you know?” Korbin probed.
“Because,” Damian looked into Korbin’s eyes, “no demon in control of a body would touch that cross, and Katie didn’t hesitate.” He waved a hand, slicing the air. “Not for a second. She might be Damned, but she isn’t lost, Korbin.”
“I really hope you’re correct.” He sighed. “Otherwise the humanity is as good as gone. You know that, right? That if Katie is gone and we let her demon lead us down a path to extinction it will be our fault, and our asses that have to raise their hands and say ‘our bad!’”
Damian chuckled. “I don’t take blame. It’s your decision.” Damian smiled as took a sip of his whisky. “I don’t get paid the big bucks. Besides, I don’t think she would lead us to extinction, just pain and suffering, that’s all.”
“You’re not making me feel better about this.” Korbin smiled tightly.
“You’ve made the right choice.” Damian reached over and patted Korbin on the shoulder. “Trust me.”
It was night. A rather quiet one, but the streets were busy as usual. A woman, tall and pretty but with a certain stare that could stop anyone in their tracks, walked intently through the rough part of the city.
The gangs were always in the streets and didn’t like it too much when anyone was on their turf, but for her they made an exception. For her they created a wide walkway, kept their eyes to themselves, and not a single one of those thugs catcalled, whistled, or even thought about touching her.
Her heels clacked against the sidewalk as she walked with purpose toward a meeting that she was already five minutes late for.
She reached an intersection and looked down at the paper in her hand and then back up at the signs. She turned left and picked up her pace, almost jogging toward the bright club lights on the next street over.
There were p
eople lined up out the door, wearing skimpy dresses and the newest jeans and ready to party. As she passed the line she stopped and stared at a guy who had been stupid enough to whistle as her.
He smiled at first, but as he stared her in the eyes his smile quickly faded away and a look of fear crossed his face. She chuckled and rolled her eyes before continuing toward the door.
As much as she wanted to put him in his place, she didn’t have time for that—not that night.
The doorman looked her up and down, not sure who she was. Carefully the woman leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. His face went white and he stood up straight, shaking his head and ushering her through the door.
He pointed to the back where two guards were standing. The woman winked at him, brushing off the coat check as she made her way into the club. The music was loud and electronic, and the base bumped so hard her teeth rattled in her head.
She had never liked clubs. They were too crowded and too expensive, and if she wanted a sweaty man to rub himself all over her she could just go to the male strip club on the other side of the town and pay fifty bucks.
Most of the women in there gave her a onceover and went back to their conversations, while most of the men stopped and stared at her as she made her way through the crowd.
She was beautiful, sure, but it was her eyes that made them stare—something she had come to really like in recent days.
There was no better way to get someone’s attention then by flashing the red demon eyes. The smell of booze wafted into her nose and she crinkled it; no time to even think about relaxing and enjoying some whiskey. She was on a mission—one that required her entire attention, and one she did not want to screw up.
