bedeviled & beyond 03 - bedeviled & beleaguered (10 page)

I had no choice but to hold on. I had to keep the thing away from the kid and the man who was trying to get him safely out of the pool.

That task proved more difficult than I’d expected.

With an angry bellow, the demon gave a quick whip of its powerful tail and we were suddenly surging toward the two humans. I grabbed the knife from my boot and, praying they would get out of the water before the demon combusted, I plunged it deep between the thing’s eyes.

It stopped so quickly I nearly flew off the fang with the loss of momentum. As my arms clutched more tightly in an effort to keep from being thrown free, the tooth ripped me open from elbow to wrist and I screamed, using the adrenaline rush from the pain to plant my feet on its bottom jaw and flip over its thrashing snout to land on the slippery black flesh behind its head.

An incredible wave of heat rose from the dying demon. It was all I could do to stay on the hot, slippery surface of the thing’s back long enough to find the killing spot between the soft flesh of its back and the bones of its skull. Once I found it, I glanced up to make sure the humans had made it safely out of the pool and then plunged the knife deep, using both hands.

Fire burst from the demon’s mouth and I ran toward its tail, praying I could get there before I turned into grilled Astra. The thing’s tail shot into the air as I reached it and I crouched, springing off the surging column of gristle and skin and allowing its momentum to launch me into the air.

I sailed over its writhing snout, feeling the flames of its death against my skin and prayed that I’d land outside the pool before it combusted.

I’d barely cleared the demon before it went up in a bloom of heat and fire that shook the concrete walls of the pool building and gave me an extra boost in my flight.

That was when I realized I was more than going to make it out of the pool. In fact I was going to hit the glass partition between the dozens of horrified observers and the pool. And hit it hard.

I also knew I couldn’t use my power to soften the impact since it would probably get me in worse trouble. So I closed my eyes and waited to hit the glass.

Fortunately it was shatterproof.

I hit the scratched, flat surface hard enough to knock the wind out of me and then hung there for a comic book moment, staring into the horrified faces of the human observers. Their mouths, to the last one, formed perfect Os as I started to sink, limbs akimbo like a bidgie bug smashed on the booger’s view port, down the glass partition. My descent to the ground was accompanied by an embarrassing squeaking noise, which lasted until my feet hit the ground and I fell away from the glass with a thwacking sound, landing in a bloodied puddle on the ground.

I just lay there for a long moment, trying to breathe and silently cataloguing my numerous injuries. A worried male face slid into view.

“You okay?” The man who’d pulled the kid out of the water tried to lift me up off the ground but I pushed his hands away. I had no breath to tell him I just wanted to lie there for a minute. He figured it out and let go of me, allowing me to gently slide to the ground again. Then he stood and started pushing people back to give me room to breathe.

I was starting to love the guy. And he was kind of cute.

After a moment, during which I could hear the kid and the mother still sobbing softly in the near distance, I sat up with the determined help of my hero and started plucking scales out of my skin.

I’d gathered a small pile of them on the ground next to me before Flick staggered into view. “You done yet? I need to go somewhere and die.”

I glared up at him, thinking about giving him a tongue lashing. Unfortunately, from the looks of him it probably would have been enough to finish him off. He was completely gray except for a pinkish cast to the skin around his eyes and mouth and he had dried vomit all over his soft flannel shirt. His jeans were wet in spots, presumably from where he’d sat in pool water...at least that’s what I was telling myself, and he smelled like the death ward in the unplanned care unit.

People around him suddenly found reasons to be elsewhere and the pool quickly cleared out around us.

“You look like hell, man,” my hero said.

Flick gave him a look and tried to smile, “You think?”

The man nodded, “Yeah. I think both of you need to go to unplanned care.”

“Good idea,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. I stumbled over to Flick and, after giving my hero one last smile, I grabbed Flick’s arm and we staggered out through the nearest door. In the empty hallway outside the pool area, unobserved by human eyes, Flick shimmered us back to the booger.

He left me there immediately, after promising to be back just before midnight.

I punched data into the booger’s directional system to take me toward the only place I knew I would be safe and could use my magic to heal.

My father’s house. The Phelps fortress.

Looking down at myself, I was shocked by the amount of blood and number of gashes, scratches and downright holes I sported in my poor aching body. Sighing, I shivered in my wet clothes and blew stringy strands of auburn hair off my face. I smelled like I’d gone swimming in a sewer. A cup of hot black coffee sounded really good.

I slowly came to the realization that I was rubbing my aching wrist again. I don’t know how long I sat there massaging the achy spot before I become conscious of the fact that something in the texture and density of my skin had changed. I glanced down and gasped.

“Shit!”

My stomach roiled and I doubled over, suddenly feeling as if I might faint.

There was a small, purple, teardrop-shaped mark on my inner wrist.

Feeling the area, I realized it was hard and felt like a foreign body under my skin. When I touched it, the flesh burned and wriggled, causing stars to burst in front of my eyes as full on panic set in. “Oh my god!” I whispered, horrified. “Whatever this is it’s alive!”

CHAPTER SIX

Of Prophecy and Prophets

The prophet she did float above, a circle made of fire,

Her silver eyes were focused on, a future writ most dire.

I’d told Flick to meet me at my father’s house. With the newly discovered foreign body in my arm I was really glad I had. I wanted to talk to my father about it. If anyone would know what it meant and how to get rid of it he would.

When I entered the fortress I called out and no one answered me. I walked through the rooms until I found Darma, seated before the great fire in the living room, staring at the flames as if transfixed.

She jumped when I called her name and turned to me, her beautiful blue eyes haunted. “Hello, Astra. You look like hell.”

I frowned down at myself and sighed. Then I pulled my power forward and concentrated on healing as much of my tattered flesh as I could. When I was confident I’d repaired most of the damage, I sat down beside Darma on the divan. I plucked a couple of scales from my hair and threw them into the fire, my eyes settling on the soothing flash and pop of the flames. “How are you?”

She shrugged.

“My offer still holds if you want to come work with me. I could really use the help right now with Emo injured.”

Darma turned to look at me, her eyes unreadable in the flickering light. “He’s still out? I thought he’d been healed.”

“He was but the healing takes its toll. He’ll need to rest for a couple of days before he’s up to doing his job.”

She nodded, returning her gaze to the fire. “I’ve been watching the digital news. It’s horrendous.” She looked at me. “Do you know what’s happening, Astra?’

I shook my head. “I have a meeting with a prophet tonight. Hopefully I’ll know more then.”

Her eyes widened, “A prophet? Are you sure that’s necessary?”

I sighed. “If ever there was a time it was necessary this is it.”

Darma stared at me for a long moment and then shrugged. She seemed almost too weary to deal with life. I was starting to worry about her.

“Hey!” I said, “If you don’t want to work with me, why don’t you find something else you’d like to do.”

“I already have. I was fired from it.”

I did a mental shrug and gave up. I had trouble enough trying to take care of myself and save the world. I just didn’t have what it took to save my sister from herself. “Do you know where father is?”

She shook her head. “No. He left early this morning and hasn’t returned.”

I sighed. “I’m sure he has his hands full right now.”

She nodded without looking away from the fire. “I’ve decided to go back home.”

I frowned, “I thought you let your place go.”

“No. I just needed to hide out for a while. I can’t stay here forever.” She turned to me with a smile. “For one thing, father just doesn’t seem to appreciate Torre’s charm.”

I snorted, “I bet.”

The smile faded, “I miss him.”

“Father?”

“No. Torre. I need to go home so I can see him when I want to.”

“You really care for him don’t you?”

She turned a sad gaze in my direction. “I’ve tried not to. But something in him calls to me.”

I patted her on the knee. “I know exactly what you mean. They’re like an illegal drug. You know you shouldn’t. You know you’re really going to regret it. But you also know it’s probably gonna be worth it.” I grinned and she grinned back, making me feel better.

I stood and started for the door. “I’m going to get something to eat. You want something?”

She shook her head and my eyes were drawn to her lap, where she was worrying at her wrist. An icy fear swept me. “What are you doing?”

She glanced up, startled. “What?”

I stalked toward her. “What’s wrong with your wrist?”

She frowned, some of the old Darma returning. “It hurts. What’s your problem, Astra?”

I grabbed her hand and looked at the smooth, white skin on the inside of her wrist. There was no teardrop mark...no weirdly mushy patch. “Did you hurt it?”

She shrugged, “I must have. In the park...when I...”

I took a deep breath. I was just overreacting. Of course she just hurt it when she was fighting off that demon.

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

Resisting an urge to rub my own wrist, I left her staring into the fire. I really needed to talk to my father about the mark on my wrist. Maybe I should use my cross to call him. I thought about it for a minute and then decided not to. He had his hands full with everything that was going on. I’d catch him the next day. When we could discuss my visit with the prophet too.

I tried not to think too much about that visit. Meeting with a prophet was something that was not to be taken lightly. In fact each of His warriors were only allowed three visits in a lifetime. While that seemed like it should be enough, when you lived over two hundred years and had a life like mine, you needed to hold those cards as long as you could.

I knew it was a risk to use a prophet card now. But I really didn’t see any choice. Time was definitely running out for me to fix whatever was happening. And before I could fix it I had to know what it was.

Feeling suddenly very tired, I made myself a cup of hot, black coffee and sat down at the table of the old fashioned kitchen. What I wouldn’t give to be able to talk to Myra right at that moment. I couldn’t believe I actually missed her cranky, bossy self.

I wondered how things were going with her difficult but important little Catholic girl and suddenly wished I knew what role the girl would play in the future. The thought made me realize that, if I didn’t get my shit together, the girl wouldn’t have a future.

Sighing wearily, I lowered my head to the table, just to rest my eyes for a moment, and promptly fell asleep.

~SC~

I was walking with Satan again. We strolled along my street. All around us, humans fought and maimed and committed wholesale destruction on everything in their path. Somehow we moved through it all without being touched.

The mist surrounded us like a living, breathing thing. It seemed to pulse and roil with the violence in the street. A low level moan filled the air, joining with the sound of death around us to create a terrifying backdrop for our stroll through hell on Earth. I decided the moaning sound had to be coming from the mist.

Great.

Bloodied bodies on the ground flew away from my feet as I strolled forward, wondering at the quiet pleasure that rode in every line of my companion’s form.

“You enjoy their pain.”

He turned to me, his face still unclear but somehow giving me the impression of cold, impossible beauty.
Yes
.

“You enjoy destruction.”

He shivered as if overcome with lust.
Ah yes
.

I walked on, wondering that I could calmly walk beside the monster of all monsters.

Have you decided to join me?

“I won’t change my mind.”

Ah but you might.

“I won’t.”

He shrugged.

A woman’s body flew past my head, she was screaming and most of her front teeth were missing from her bloodied mouth. I shook my head. “I can’t let you do this.”

He laughed, the sound rich and vibrant in the chaos.
I am the Power of Darkness, the Son of the Morning, the Roaring Lion.

“The Swine, the Murderer, the Liar.”

He chuckled.
Yes, I have been called all those things. But I prefer my list.

I snorted, “I’ll bet you do.”

We left the street behind and moved into the countryside. The sun above us was fat and round and filled with heat. It beat down on me, bringing warm memories of childhood days spent in play. I pushed my face upward, enjoying the heat.

You will have no choice you know. I have begun to call the conduits and they will all come. Even you.

The heat drew fat beads of sweat from my skin. Moisture rolled down my back and arms. My tongue grew thick with thirst.

“I am not your conduit for evil. This is something I would never condone, let alone help you pull off. The human race has a right to exist.”

No
, he laughed.
They do not. They are weak and stupid. I have need of their destruction.