The Demon Trappers: Foretold (25 page)

Donovan sobered. ‘I talked to her about that, told her it wasn’t the right thing to do when she had a young son. She’d never listen to me.’

‘At least you tried.’

With the sheriff’s help, Beck lit the newspaper and then hobbled over to the remaining source of his nightmares.

‘Burn, you bastard,’ he muttered, then threw the lighted paper on to the centre of the couch. The fumes ignited instantly and began to consume the fabric in thick, greedy waves.

Beck returned to the porch and sat down, watching the inferno build. ‘Been wantin’ to do that since I was ten.’

‘Surprised you waited.’

That did make Beck grin. ‘I was gettin’ into enough trouble without being a fire bug.’

‘That’s the truth.’ Donovan retied a shoelace. ‘We have a plea bargain in place with McGovern. Once the Feds are done with him, they’ll go directly to the
sentencing phase.’

‘Any chance of the death penalty?’

‘No. That was part of the bargain. That won’t sit well with some folks, but that’s the way it went down.’

‘If I was him, I’d let them kill me rather than spendin’ the rest of my life in some damned cell,’ Beck said.

The sheriff took a quick slug of whisky. ‘If it wasn’t such a mess around here, we could go fishing.’

Beck smiled. ‘I’d have liked that, but I’ll have to get back to Atlanta. Maybe sometime down the line.’ He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
How do I do
this?

Something must have shown on his face as Donovan leaned forward as well, adopting the same pose.

‘What’s on your mind, Denver?’

‘Got a question and I don’t know how to ask it.’

‘Does it have something to do with Sadie and me?’

Beck’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Yeah, it does. I’m not the only one thinks you and me look a lot alike.’

‘Figured that would come up one of these days. In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t until now.’

‘Part of askin’ the question is maybe gettin’ an answer I won’t like. I wasn’t willin’ to take the risk,’ Beck admitted.

‘But you are now.’ Donovan picked up the bottle of whisky, but didn’t take a drink. His thumbnail scored the label. ‘Your mother and me were together for a few months
right before I went into the Navy. When I came back four years later, she’s got this little blond-haired boy. Sweet fellow with big brown eyes and a smile that would own your
heart.’

Beck jammed his lips together.

‘I asked her if you were mine and she said you weren’t. Now by that time she was drinking heavily and not known to tell the truth, so I kept an eye on you as best I could.’ He
paused. ‘When she left you in the swamp, I was so damned mad I had Doc Hodges do a paternity test while you were in the hospital, on the sly. I never told Sadie about it.’

Beck sat up, his breath caught. ‘Yes or no?’

‘It was negative, Denver. You’re not my son. I can tell you that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I had so hoped you were.’

‘Ah hell,’ Beck murmured, his hopes crushed. ‘I always thought . . .’

‘So did I. I’d hoped you were mine so I could sue for custody, get you away from your mother.’

‘All those years I wasted dreamin’ you were my daddy.’

‘No, not wasted. It gave you something to hope for, something Sadie couldn’t destroy. That’s why I never told you. As long as you held that hope you had a reason to keep moving
forward.’

Beck ran a hand over his face. ‘Guess I’ll never know who he is.’

‘Well, one thing’s for sure, he must have had a great deal of courage or his son wouldn’t be as good a man as he is.’

Beck shrugged.

‘I’m sorry that wasn’t the answer we both wanted.’ Donovan sighed. ‘In some ways I regret that Sadie and I didn’t work out. Maybe she would have stayed out of
the bottle if she’d had someone to look after her.’

‘Probably not.’ Beck squared his shoulders. ‘Well, as far as I’m concerned, I had two daddies – you and Paul. I couldn’t have asked for better.’

‘That means a lot,’ Donovan replied, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

‘Before I leave, I want to see Louisa again and meet her husband. Tell him what a lucky guy he is. Once that’s done, I’ll be headin’ home.’

‘Don’t forget your roots, son. They’re important. And, whatever you do, don’t let Riley get away from you. She’s just what you need.’

It was heartening to know Donovan thought so highly of her.

‘Yeah, I’m workin’ on that. Not to worry.’

His time in Sadlersville was drawing to a close. Everything was settled now.

With a sense of accomplishment, Beck leaned back to watch the couch, and his past, vanish in a sea of flames.

Atlanta lay beneath them like a conquered city, but the view from the roof of One Atlantic Center did not impress the angels. After you’d witnessed the beginning of the
cosmos, the mortals’ cities were like a child’s toys.

The Divine standing next to Ori was the pensive kind, the kind that saw the future with disturbing clarity. It was one of the reasons he’d asked Gusion to join him tonight.

‘Where will you stand if war comes?’ his friend asked.

Ori raised an eyebrow. ‘Where do you think I should stand? What do you see of our future? You’re known for that talent.’

‘All I see is blood,’ the other Fallen angel replied solemnly. ‘Nothing is clear beyond that.’

That wasn’t the response he’d expected. ‘Whose blood?’ Ori asked. ‘Mortals’ or angels’?’

‘Both.’ Gusion turned towards him. ‘Do not go to war against Lucifer. He will destroy you and all you hold dear.’

‘What if that’s exactly what I want?’ Ori parried.

His old friend shook his head in despair.

‘I have a favour to ask of you, Gusion. You have every right to refuse.’

Then he laid out what it was he wished for, how his fellow angel may well have a role to play in the days to come.

Gusion ruffled a wing in agitation before he answered. ‘You ask much.’

‘But will you do it if the need arises?’

‘I shall, though it is not in my nature.’

‘What of the other Divines? Where do they stand?’ Ori asked.

‘They are undecided. Though many do not hold you in high regard, they are displeased with the way you have been treated.’

Ori nodded his understanding. ‘Lucifer hopes to pit Sartael against me to destroy us both. He has lost sight of what is important.’

Gusion did not argue that point. ‘Where is this soul you hold, the one that has made Lucifer so angry?’

‘Blackthorne’s daughter has just returned to the city.’

‘Does she know of the danger she faces, how so many would view her as a means to destroy you?’ Gusion asked.

‘Not yet. Riley Anora Blackthorne will learn soon enough.’

‘Is she strong enough, this soul of yours?’

‘She had better be.’

As Beck had promised, Riley found journeyman trapper Chris Jackson waiting for her outside the Greyhound bus station in Atlanta, leaning against the front bumper of his truck.
Jackson’s build was on the thin side and he was one of her favourite trappers: he’d been in her corner from the moment she’d joined the Guild.

‘Welcome back to the big city,’ he called out, a welcoming smile in place.

‘Hi, Jackson. How’d you get stuck with picking me up?’

‘Volunteered,’ he replied.

He hefted her small suitcase into the back of his truck and then they were headed north into the heart of Atlanta. Since Jackson’s trapping bag took up space on the seat between them,
Riley placed her backpack at her feet.

‘How’s Beck?’ he asked.

‘Doing OK. You hear what happened?’

‘Yeah. It’s been in the papers.’ He shook his head in sympathy. ‘I can’t imagine him having to carry that weight on his shoulders all those years.’

‘It was really hard. Now they know he’s as much a victim as the other guys.’

As Jackson took a corner, her backpack flopped over on to her feet and she readjusted it. ‘So what’s happening up here? Am I still on someone’s hit list?’

‘Nope. The cops caught up with the dude. He made the mistake of sending threats to the mayor, the governor and a state senator. He’s done for.’

‘Wow, the company I keep,’ she said wryly.

‘Besides that idiot, we’ve got a bunch of new folks who want to join the Guild. A good portion of those are
very
scary. Most of them actually.’ He took in a breath.
‘Oh, and the
Demonland
film crew arrived yesterday. They start filming tomorrow evening.’

‘Why would they come here after everything that’s happened?’

‘Ratings is what I hear,’ Jackson replied. ‘They really want to know what went down at the cemetery so they can work it into an episode. Harper has threatened to gut anyone who
tells them a peep about the battle.’

She could see her master doing that.

‘I never got to thank you for what you did at the cemetery,’ he continued. ‘I don’t know how you stood up to those angels.’

‘I had no choice,’ she said. ‘Sometimes when you’re cornered you do the impossible.’

‘Is it true Heaven made a deal with you to save Simon’s life?’ Jackson asked, looking over at her now.

Apparently that bit of truth was in the wild now. ‘Yes, they did.’

Jackson whistled under his breath. ‘I’ve only seen him a couple times since the battle and he’s not looking good. I think the guilt is getting to him.’

‘Yeah, it is.’

‘How’s about some good news: I passed my master’s exam.’

‘That rocks, Jackson!’ she said. ‘Wow, you have to be jazzed.’

His grin told her he was. ‘Now I have to do my thing with an Arch-Fiend and I’m good to go.’

‘You’re not going to try to capture one of those things, are you?’ she asked, worried.

‘After what I saw at the cemetery, no way. I’m just going to kill it before it kills me.’

Riley totally agreed. ‘You sure Harper will sign off on you to become a master?’

‘He says he will. He’s less of a . . . jerk now that he’s clean and sober. The National Guild has waived its restrictions about the number of apprentices per master. Harper has
two new ones to train now.’ Jackson gave her a look. ‘You’re going to love these guys.’

‘Bad news?’

‘Clueless.’

She laughed. ‘They’ll feel right at home with me, then.’

The next morning brought a hearty breakfast courtesy of Mrs Ayers and a scrawled note from Master Stewart that welcomed her home, and told her that she was expected at
Harper’s new office by ten.

No rest for the damned.

Since she’d crawled out of bed late, Riley had no time to fly by her apartment, though she knew the mailbox would be jammed full by now. She moved that task on to the ‘later’
list and followed Stewart’s directions to her master’s new home.

When Riley pulled into the gravelled parking lot, she knew she’d found the right place. Like his previous location, Harper had opted for a car repair business that had fallen on hard
times. At least this one was in better physical condition than the old one, especially after a Grade Five Geo-Fiend had torn it apart.

The new place was constructed of tan brick. One side of the building was two storeys and the other – the garage portion – just one. The garage’s twin overhead doors
weren’t peeling or warped. In fact, it looked as if they’d recently received a coat of paint.

‘Much better,’ she said, nodding her approval. Maybe Harper’s new sobriety was carrying over into other aspects of his life.
Or he got tired of living in a dump.

Despite Jackson’s observation that her master was better behaved now, Riley was still apprehensive. She and Harper had shared a rocky relationship, including a history of bruises
he’d left on her during his blistering tirades. Now that she knew him better she understood where that anger had come from, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.

Right before the battle at Oakland Cemetery, he’d promised that if they made it through the end of the world he and Riley would have a little chat and that she wouldn’t like what he
was going to tell her. She suspected that conversation would conclude with her handing over her trapper’s licence.

I made the deal with Hell. He won’t have any other choice.

She steeled herself and pushed open the front door to the building. The interior smelt more of garage than it did demon, but that would change over time. Harper’s new office was bigger
than the old one and her master had positioned his battle-scarred desk so he could take advantage of the space. Some of his old furniture had made the move – the battered filing cabinets
crouched in a corner – but there was a new office chair. The grubby recliner was gone and Riley did not mourn its demise.

The door to her right led into the old service bays. The hydraulic lifts were noticeably absent, probably sold for scrap by the previous owners, and in their place were four cages that were
specially designed to hold Grade Three demons. All were occupied and the demons set up a chorus of howls when they spied her, including their usual
Blackthorne’s daughter
greeting.

Harper looked up and grunted at her arrival. He was an older man in his late fifties with a wicked scar running from his left eyebrow down the side of his face. Given the warmer weather, he was
in a T-shirt and the skull tattoo on his arm was partially visible. A full bottle of water sat next to him now, instead of a bottle of booze. Next to it was his can of chewing tobacco telling Riley
he’d not abandoned all his vices.