Roaring Blood (Demon-Hearted Book 2) (15 page)

As the necromancer's footfalls faded, I cursed under my breath, struggling against the chains. “Do you know any way we can bust out of these?” I asked, turning to Kanta.

She'd recovered from the spot of fatigue and was looking at me with sheer, unfiltered anger now. She didn't reply, couldn't bring herself to talk to me. There could be no doubt that she hated Agamemnon, but as I stood there next to her in the basement of this old building, I got the distinct impression that she hated me more.

“L-look,” I began. “I'm sorry about this. All of it. I fucked up, and I can totally own that, all right? I've been... irresponsible lately. I get it. And if you hate me, then I don't blame you. But we need to get the hell out of here! Do you know any way that we can bust out of these?”

Her hateful gaze was unwavering. At that moment she was probably imagining me getting singed by hellfire for all eternity.

Which brought to mind another thing: Had Agamemnon been serious? Was I really doomed to Hell upon death because I was a Demon-Heart? Of everything that'd been discussed in the past few minutes, that was not the least concerning tidbit. No one at the Veiled Order had mentioned
that
part of the bargain... “Say,” I said, my eyes softening. “You're an exorcist and all of that, so I imagine you know a good deal about demons. Is it true? Is Agamemnon right about me going to Hell when I die because I'm a Demon-Heart? I just never really expected that, and when they transplanted this heart in me, well...”

Kanta's face was contorted into a sick grin. “Oh, hell yeah. That's one-hundred percent true. And it's the only silver lining in all of this. If the whole world has to go to shit, then at the very least you'll be getting manhandled in Hell till the end of time for what you've done.”

For those of you playing at home, here's a recap: I fucked things up in the field, possibly got Joe, Percy and a number of Veiled Order commandos murdered by zombies, and then got Kanta and myself captured by the necromancer, so that we could be used as bait.

But that apparently wasn't bad enough. Oh, no, things just
had
to keep getting shittier. The necromancer had let drop a little gem that I'd have really liked to know before signing on the dotted line.

When I died-- and considering the jam we were in, that would probably happen sooner that I'd like-- I was Hell-bound. That's right; my having a demon's heart was a one-way ticket to Hell.

Excellent
.

***

The time on my cellphone kept ticking on. We'd been down in the cellar for almost an hour, sitting in silence, by the time Kanta finally agreed to talk to me. And it was only so that she could call me an asshole.

There was no cell reception; believe me, I checked. How it was that a secret society's work issue phone couldn't get reception from a metropark was beyond me, but being stuck in a basement probably wasn't helping things. That, and if he was smart, Agamemnon was probably fucking with the city's communications to make it harder for his enemies to mobilize against him.

“So...” I sat down and stretched my legs against the cold concrete, “what ya thinkin'?”

“Shut the fuck up,” spat Kanta, arms crossed. She paced from side to side, the chains limiting her movement to a small area.

This imprisonment in the cellar was giving me way too much time to think. Of course I was thinking about the whole
Hell
thing. That was a bummer. But outside this building there was a war brewing, and everyone I knew and cared about was likely to get caught up in it. I'd failed our entire team, called too much attention to us in the woods. Had I slowed down and followed everyone else's lead, then perhaps we wouldn't have gotten swarmed by undead. Had I not insisted on engaging Agamemnon, then maybe we could have gotten out of there. Joe and Percy had been hit by a tsunami of zombies when last I'd seen them. I hoped that they'd pulled through... but somehow I didn't think they had. Tough as they were, the odds were stacked against them.

What would happen once the Veiled Order had fallen? When people like Joe, Kanta and I were dead and gone, what would mankind do against Agamemnon's forces? I tried to picture this “glorious” new world he talked about, what Detroit would look like if he got his way. No matter how I envisioned it, it wasn't pretty.

I thought repeatedly about my own fault in all of this, about how I'd let the mission go to my head and sealed the fate of everyone on the team. A flashy lightning strike had seemed like a good idea at the time, but in retrospect it'd been utterly careless. And of course, I'd tried taking on the necromancer solo again. Not the best idea. The fact that Agamemnon walked on higher ground and that only the concerted effort of many could stop him was finally sinking in. Too little, too late.

I didn't have the right stuff to take on this threat alone. It was painfully clear. The cost in figuring that out had been awfully high, though. The Veiled Order was a huge organization; it was possible that they'd find some other members who could take on Agamemnon, and even win. But the way Kubo and Amundsen had acted, I somehow doubted it. They'd stuck me and the others on the case from the get-go because they probably thought we had the best chance at victory. I felt like an ass for letting them down, for letting the whole
city
down.

“We can't just sit here,” I said. I didn't even particularly care if Kanta was listening. I was used to her simply ignoring me anyway, but on the off chance that I could drag her into a dialogue I kept on speaking. “I made a mistake... OK, I made a
lot
of mistakes. But there's so much hanging in the balance here. While we sit around the city could be getting hammered by zombies. This battle isn't about my pride... it's much more than that. The world's hanging in the balance.”

Kanta rolled her eyes and rattled her chains. “Funny how you're only just
now
realizing that. But you're too fucking late. Really, what was the Chief thinking, granting you so much power? You're obviously a hotheaded rookie. You have no place on a mission like this one except as a foot soldier.”

“Maybe,” I offered, “but this whole thing... it's more complicated than that. I died a while back, did you know that? I died, got killed by witches, and the only reason I'm sitting here now is because they stuck a demon's heart in me. When I agreed to the procedure I had no idea what would happen. I sure as hell never imagined this.” I sighed. “I'm willing to own up to my mistakes in all of this, but it's not like I was coached on the proper way to hunt and kill a necromancer. I was thrust into this new life, didn't even know about real magic till a few months back. Honestly, it's a shame they didn't give this heart to someone a little wiser and less arrogant than me. All I managed to do with it is fuck everything up. Oh, and apparently earn myself a trip straight to Hell upon checking out. That was welcome news, let me tell you. I might've reconsidered the transplant if I'd known about that nugget beforehand.”

The look on Kanta's face wasn't anger, exactly. For the first time since we'd been taken prisoner, I noted something like surprise in her features. “When we first met,” she admitted, “I didn't know you were a Demon-Heart. Back at headquarters, I was under the impression that the Veiled Order had recruited a possessed man. I guess that explains why my exorcism didn't work. Sorry about that.” She shrugged. “Anyhow, creating a Demon-Heart is absolutely tasteless. It's barbaric, frankly. Burdening a human being with that kind of...” She trailed off, shaking her head.

Kanta wasn't offering pity, but at least I had her talking now. “Well, what about you? How did you end up in this mess, doing the whole exorcism thing?”

She arched a brow. “Really? You want to get into that
now?
”

I gave the restraints another tug. They didn't give in the least. “Yup, why not? Have to fill the time with something.”

Kneeling down on the floor, Kanta smoothed out the edges of her tattered sari. “Maybe I was harder on you in the beginning because I have some personal experience with demons.” She gulped, her eyes going distant in reminisce. “When I was a little girl, I was possessed by a demon. My parents gave me up to the monks of a small temple and never came back for me. I guess they thought I was spiritually dirty, hopeless, a lost cause. Could have been worse... I know of some cases where children are killed by their parents to purge the demons. Not everyone in India is like that, of course. But in some areas these superstitions persist, and...” She cleared her throat. “The monks got rid of the demon, but I've never forgotten how it felt to have that thing inside of me. With no family to go back to and nothing else in my life to fill my time, I began studying at the temple and was taught the rites of exorcism. Among other tricks...”

“I see. And when did you start working for the Veiled Order?” I asked.

“The head priest at the temple was actually a member of the Order. When the organization needed an exorcist, he referred me, and the rest is history. I'm not a full-fledged member of the Order, just a reliable contractor. They seek me out when they need my services, and this time I just so happened to be in the area, so...”

I smirked. “You had me fooled at the party. I thought for sure you were an exchange student. Even had the accent down and everything.”

Kanta laughed, but the sound that left her lips wasn't exactly a happy one. “About that; I'd sensed your demonic energy from afar and needed an in. My attempt at an exorcism that night was the result of careful planning. I'm used to lying about the exchange student thing, and your friends bought it. Of course, if I'd known you were with the Veiled Order I wouldn't have gone through with it...”

“And your buddy, Percy? Is he, like, your boyfriend or something?”

The fire was back in her eyes. “No,” she said, staring daggers. “We've just worked together in the past. We were both in town at the time. The Veiled Order wanted to get ahold of anyone they could to face this threat and the two of us just happened to be close by. We work well together; Percy's a talented fighter. He traveled the country for years with his father, hunting werewolves and other beasts. He's seen more in his years than most people twice his age. That sword of his is a blessed weapon, which is why you couldn't hold it.”

“Good to know,” I said, rubbing at my palms. The wounds had healed, but I could still feel the skin tingling from the burns. “So... these chains here. Is there really no way to break them?”

Her brow was furrowed in thought. “Pretty much. A powerful spell can destroy them, but I don't know how to go about it.”

I surveyed the wall behind us, looked to the new, metal anchors that'd been fastened to the grotty bricks. Suddenly, I had an idea. The chains were never going to give, but what about the bricks, or the anchors? The mortar between the bricks was cracked and discolored. If we worked at breaking up the wall itself, then perhaps we'd be able to loose the chains and escape. We could worry about removing the manacles themselves later. “That wall doesn't look too tough,” I said, nodding to the anchors. “I bet if we knock out the bricks surrounding the anchors we can pull the whole thing out of the wall and escape.”

Kanta looked over the bricks, shaking her head. “I don't know... it could work, but...”

“That trident trick of yours. Can you summon up that weapon and start breaking up the bricks? I'll tug on them and try to loosen them up more with my spit. How about that?” I stored up some spit in my mouth and aimed for the anchors in the wall.

To my surprise, it worked even better than I'd anticipated. The chains were enchanted and immune to my acid spit, however the anchors holding them in place were seemingly ordinary. The metal began to corrode at once, and though I knew it would take several mouthfuls of demon spit to get the job done, it was clear we had a chance.

Watching my progress excitedly, Kanta reached up and plucked a hair from her head. As before, the strand of dark hair transformed into a gleaming metal trident.

One of these days she was going to have to teach me that trick.

Rearing back as best she could in her restraints, she cleaved at the metal anchors holding my chains in place, striking the parts that'd been weakened by my corrosive spit. Blow after blow, more of the steel was broken away. Her efforts were noisy, and I was afraid that the zombies upstairs might hear what was going on, but I'd worry about them when the time came. While Kanta bashed the anchors, I tensed my arm and pulled at the chains.

The anchor gave way with a crack and the end of the chain hit the ground. “Hell yeah! That's one. Just three more to go and we'll be out of here. Thank God Agamemnon's a cheap-ass. He bought the enchanted manacles but couldn't go the extra mile for better anchors, eh? Probably picked this shit up at the hardware store.”

Kanta, panting, turned her attention to my next anchor. “Spit on it,” she said.

Clearing my sinuses, I hawked a big, loud one onto the steel anchor. The metal began to sizzle and spark, and like the last one it was quickly eaten away. With it thoroughly weakened, Kanta was free to go to town, and started hacking at it with her beastly trident. The thing snapped and my chains clattered to the ground.

I was free.

All that was left now was to bust Kanta's anchors and we'd be all set. My mouth was getting a little dry from all of the spitting, but I kneeled down and faced the metal loops, working up a good bit of spittle. My heart began to race, and a sinister smile played across my lips.

That smug necromancer had left us down here, certain that his restraints could do the job. Like the bully on the playground, though, he'd underestimated me.

Underestimated
us
.

We were back in the fight, in a big way. And even if the two of us were too late to save the world as Agamemnon had haughtily claimed, we were going to make his life hell.

Most importantly, we were all going to do it
together
.

Joe, Percy... hold on, guys. We're coming for you.

NINETEEN

I drooled all over both of Kanta's anchors like a dog and the metal began to corrode. She started whacking at the weakened links for everything she was worth. The tips of the trident were becoming misshapen for the repeated blows, and the racket she was causing was immense. It didn't matter; the only thing the two of us had on our minds was busting out of there. Our approach might've been a little inelegant, but it would be fast. The horde waiting for us throughout the building was of no concern. I felt like I could cleave through a million zombies just then.