Roaring Blood (Demon-Hearted Book 2) (21 page)

“That... that isn't even a real thing,” I said, leaning back in my chair.

Germaine burst into laughter and settled back down onto the desk. “Yeah, I'm just shittin' yah. But I really am Germaine Fox. That ain't no lie. The, uh,
spider
thing is kind of recent, I admit. See, I was fuckin' around with this artifact, this druid's staff, and I got in over my head. Accidentally turned myself into a spider and haven't been able to switch back for, oh... about a year now. No one's been able to help me out with it, either. Looks like I'm stuck this way.” He sighed. “You live and you learn. Just gotta take one day at a time. Know what I miss most, though? About bein' human, I mean. It ain't what you'd expect. I miss taking a piss. A proper leak. You boys know how a spider takes a piss? It's just not the same.”

I
really
didn't like this guy. If the spider wasn't quick about telling us what we needed to know, I was going to take off my shoe and let him have it.

Just kidding. I'd have
Joe
do it. I didn't want to get near the thing.

“Right, well, our boss gave us this letter. Contains everything you need to know about the mission we're on. It's... a doozy,” said Joe, unfolding the slip of paper Kubo had given him. “If you have any questions, uh... just ask.” He set the letter down on the desk before the spider, and to my surprise-- or perhaps
disgust
is really the more accurate descriptor-- the spider stood up and peered down at it.

I tried picturing what Germaine must've looked like as a human being. I took him as short, pudgy. Probably balding and greasy. Still, even the biggest sleazeball I could imagine was worlds more pleasant than... this thing. My journey into the world of the Beyond just kept getting weirder. I mean, a huge spider with a Jersey accent? Come on.

Germaine finished reading the letter and then pushed at the paper with his forelegs, easing it across the desk towards Joe. “I understand why you've come to see me, boys. That's a real bitch, you weren't lyin'.” The creature's mouth parts twitched pensively for a time. “The Scythe of Thanatos just ain't the kind of weapon you mess around with. If the fella's got his hands on that it's pretty much game over. Imagine Hitler getting ahold of the A-bomb first and you'll have some idea of what I mean. That thing's the Holy Grail as far as a necromancer's concerned.” Turning to a small shelf full of handsome books, the spider took a running jump off of the desk and catapulted itself onto the uppermost shelf. “I think I got something here that'll tell us a little more about the scythe and what we can do to stop it. I don't remember if it was in the
Carte de Umbra Lungi
, or... nah, it must have been one of the other books...” He chortled. “Sorry, fellas. This is gonna take me a minute. Been a while since I've read up on that thing.”

Joe and I looked at one another and shifted uncomfortably in our chairs. From the uppermost shelf, Germaine teased out a big, leather-bound tome and let it drop unceremoniously to the floor below with a loud thud. Then, jumping down onto the ground, he cracked the cover and started turning the pages with his tiny, spidery hands.

After a brief silence, wherein he studied the book, Germaine suddenly scurried out from behind the desk and scrambled up onto my chair, pausing on my armrest.

I didn't scream till the spider reached out and patted me on the back of the hand with its bristly appendage.

“It's like I thought,” said Germaine while I curled up into the opposite side of the chair. “That weapon is pretty much unstoppable. Inflicts a dangerous blight when it cuts ya. The curse keeps the wound from healing. Amplifies a spellcaster's death magic to outrageous levels. The wielder of that thing is essentially a proxy for the lord of death himself.”

I grit my teeth. We'd come all the way out here and met with this creepy fuck just so that he could tell us what we'd already guessed? “So, that's it? We're screwed, then?”

The spider raised a hairy arm and jabbed it my way. “I said 'pretty much', didn't I? Doesn't mean there isn't an out. I was getting to that.”

Joe leaned forward. “What is it?”

“Know anything about St. Michael?” Germaine's question seemed directed at me, and was tinged with amusement.

Ha-Ha. Good one. Ask the demon whether he knows anything about angels. “Can't say I do. Been a while since I've gone to Sunday school.” I tried to relax, but every time I did, Germaine moved like he was going to touch me. “What's that have to do anything?”

“Well, it's got
everything
to do with this, you dummy. See, once upon a time, St. Michael the Archangel got into a fight with this guy you probably know real well. Goes by the name of Satan? Yeah. Well, St. Michael's in the heat of battle against Satan and the Grigori when suddenly his sword breaks. This is a powerful blade, forged in heaven by cherubs and all that shit. Real primo piece of weaponry, know what I'm sayin'? Right when the Archangel needed it most, it broke into pieces, and where do you think one of those pieces ended up?”

Hell if I knew. I rolled my eyes. “Just get on with it.”

“A piece of that sword,” continued Germaine, “fell to Earth. Back in biblical times a blacksmith came upon it and, after melting it down, incorporated it into a sword of his own. You know the stories about King Solomon, yeah? This sword was given as a gift to Solomon for his virtue. He was gonna use that very sword to cleave a baby in half in that old Biblical yarn. Anyway, it was passed on through the ages. Can only be wielded by someone pure of heart, but a weapon straight outta Heaven should make the wielder immune to the ravages of the Scythe of Thanatos.” If spiders could grin, then Germaine was smiling like an idiot. “Course, that means you're out of the running, my fair demon-boy. Ain't no way you'd be able to touch it.”

That I couldn't wield a heavenly sword was definitely no surprise. What I wanted to know was how this guy knew about Gadreel. “How do you know I'm a demon?” I asked.

“I'm a renowned demonologist, remember? Wouldn't be worth all of my accolades if I couldn't spot one in my own room, no?” He leaned forward a little, hairs on his abdomen standing on end. “Somethin' weird about
you
, though. You possessed? Nah, that ain't it.”

“I've got, uh... a demon's heart in me,” I replied, patting my chest.

“No shit!” Germaine chuckled. “A real-life Demon-Heart? Ain't that something. Didn't know the Veiled Order was doing that kind of exotic shit. You took them up on that demon heart even though it meant goin' to Hell, eh? Not sure I'd have made the decision, but I respect it. Lifting cars and summoning lightning storms is hella cool, but I'm hoping for someplace a little less toasty when I kick the bucket.”

Right, because I needed yet another reminder of
that
. I sighed. “What kind of credentials can you possibly have in demonology, anyway? Is there a course you can take, a curriculum that covers that?”

“Oh, yeah. The Franklin County Community College down in Florida has an online program. Took just two years, as a matter of fact.” The spider rubbed its forelimbs together. “Any other questions or y'all ready to get the hell out of here?”

I didn't need to be asked twice. I got up out of the chair and side-stepped my way to the door.

And I guess Germaine decided to come with me.

Leaping off of the armrest, the spider landed softly against my shoulder, scurrying forth and clutching at my neck with its searching hands. “Time's a-wasting, gentlemen,” he said so close to my ear that I could feel his fangs grazing my skin.

I flipped out. Thrashing from side to side and trying to do anything I could to get Germaine off of me without using my hands, I loosed shriek after shriek. The big guy from earlier poked his head into the room, probably expecting to find a murder scene for all of my screaming.

Joe stayed back, watching from afar while trying not to laugh.

“Ah, quit your whining,” blurted the spider, never budging. I felt one of its eight legs caress the back of my neck. “Now, now, your skin back here looks all goose-pimply. What's the matter, kid? Don't like spiders?” His wheezing laugh filled my ears.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked, my body itching all over.

“Well, I'm coming with you. To help you find the Archangel Saber. Obviously.”

“Come on, Lucy. Don't cause a fuss. Germaine obviously likes you.” Joe stifled a laugh, waltzing towards the door and waving me over. “We don't have time to lose.”

“That's right, you should listen to your buddy over there,” added Germaine. “I'm just gonna get cozy on these broad shoulders of yours. Don't suppose you got a place I can stay, do ya? Finding this sword might take a little while. But don't worry! I don't take up a whole lotta room.”

I wished I had this legendary Archangel blade in my possession right then. Not because it could supposedly save the world, but because I wanted to run myself through with it. Dying and getting shuttled off to Hell till the end of time didn't sound half bad when compared to acting as Germaine's personal chauffeur.

TWENTY-FIVE

“And that's why I don't actually eat birds. Spiders my size can do it, but the beaks are just too damn hard to digest.” Germaine remained perched atop my shoulder, and was discussing the most disgusting shit imaginable. We'd somehow managed to leave the Underground without the loud-mouthed spider drawing the attention of every passerby, and were presently walking past Mona's to the path that would lead us back to the alley behind Yao's.

When the three of us materialized in the dim alley, Germaine gave the closest thing to a whistle a spider was capable of. “Boy, I haven't been in Detroit for a long time. When last I was in Detroit, I was still a human, for starters. And the Lions were having a good year, too. How're the Lions these days? Better than the Browns, I hope. We don't get a whole lot of Earthly sports reporting in the Beyond, so I haven't been keeping up over the years.” He gave a toss of his tiny legs. “For all I know, all of the players I used to follow are dead and gone now.”

“I don't really watch sports,” I muttered, craning my neck away from him.

Joe snickered. “Yeah, Lucy is more interested in artwork. He's a sensitive, artsy type.”

The spider guffawed. “Lucy? Ain't no demon ever had a name like
Lucy
. What's your name, demon? Have we met before?”

I gnashed my teeth for a minute before replying. “The demon inside of me is called Gadreel.”

This seemed to impress the spider, because for a minute there, he actually shut the fuck up. “Gadreel? The
fallen angel
Gadreel?” he asked, stunned. “That's incredible. You know, usually when you see a Demon-Heart, it's a low-level grunt's heart they've used. You got royalty inside of you, kid. Hope you're bein' a good vessel and all of that. Down below, the name 'Gadreel' opens some doors.”

“Good to know,” I replied. Then, gulping, I decided to try my luck. Freaky though he was, this annoying spider seemed to know a lot more about demons than me or the guys back at Veiled Order HQ did. “So... I kind of rushed into this demon thing and didn't know that I was destined to burn in Hell after death. There, uh, any way to get around that?”

Germaine laughed so hard he was left sucking wind. “Get a load of this guy!” he said, reaching out towards Joe. “No, sir. You're one-hundred percent boned. The literature's pretty firm on that.”

I gulped. “E-even if I use my demonic powers for good? If I try to be a nice guy, and--”

“Nah. Still goin' to Hell, friend. God don't care if you're a swell dude. You've got bonafide demon blood running in your veins now; your souls are all caught up in one another. Where he goes in the afterlife, well, that's where you're headed. Sorry to break it to ya. Real shitty of those Veiled Order guys not to tell you ahead of time, though. Bet you're having a spot of buyer's remorse, eh?”

That was an understatement.

“This sword,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Where we gonna find it?”

“You're all business, I like that,” replied Germaine. “I'm going to have to make a call. Got this buddy who runs an armory. It's not so far from my shop. Spends summers living in Camden, working as a manager at a TGI Fridays. I'll call him and see if he can't get us an in. Last I heard, the sword, along with a lot of other awesome shit, was kept there. Famous buyers interested in rare weapons use the place to store their goods, kinda like a bank vault. Dunno who the current owner is, but we're just borrowin' it to save the world. I'm sure they'll understand.”

“Wait, this dude owns a warehouse full of artifacts but he works at a chain restaurant? Who do you think you're fooling?” I asked. “Joe, this spider's full of shit. We should take him to HQ so that Kubo can lay into him.”

Germaine sighed. “Say what you will, but TGI Fridays offers a competitive retirement plan.”

We left the alley, starting out into the parking lot where my Corvette was waiting. I fished the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the doors.

“This your ride?” asked the spider incredulously. “Your bosses are takin' good care of you, I see! I'm riding shotgun.”

While I climbed into the car, Germaine jumped off of me and stationed himself in the warm passenger seat. Joe was forced to squeeze into the back.

“Might want to buckle up,” I said to Germaine. “Oh, wait. You can't use a seatbelt, can you? Because you're a
spider
.”

Unfazed, Germaine skittered up the back of his seat and glared at Joe. “Why's he still going on about that? Is he ever going to get over it?”

I cranked the AC and roared out of the parking lot. “Where to? HQ? I guess we should let the Chief know we found his, uh...
guy
. What instructions did Kubo give you, Joe? What're we supposed to do now?”

Joe was already in the process of dialing Kubo's number. “Hey, Chief. It's Joe. Me and Lucy are here with Germaine. We picked him up, and he thinks he has an idea about how to stop Agamemnon.”

Germaine interrupted. “Is that the fella who wrote the letter? Ah, give it here. I'll talk to him.”

“Hold on, Chief. He wants to talk to you himself.” Carefully, Joe reached forward and set the black cellphone on the seat. Germaine then huddled his furry bulk over it and cradled it with his limbs.