By the time I finally make it back home, I realize just how alone I am. Not that it would make joining the bad guys right. I'd still be alone as ever, just in a different way. No, I have to go with what I'm doing now, no matter how much it hurts me, no matter how much I don't want to.

Because I want her…

I want Jenny, and if I have to do it the hard way, so be it.

I can barely stand, honestly, so I don't even try. I collapse onto the nearest couch and try to catch my breath. It's pretty tough getting around New York in a haze, and truth be told, I have absolutely no clue how I did it. Maybe life felt like cutting me a break for once. I sure as hell earned it. In any case, this wouldn't be the first morning I've stumbled into my mansion looking half-dead and collapsed. Honestly, it's a good thing I can trust everyone in my organization or else by this point I would have been killed and replaced.

Then again, seeing as anyone who pulls a gun on me tends to get a face full of fangs and shadows, it's probably considered suicide to even think of betraying me. Sometimes I hear other criminals spout all kinds of rumors about what I can do. I especially like the suggestion that I personally killed the devil and now sit on his throne in hell. In one way, it's made my job easier—nobody professional really wants to be the guy to piss off the devil mobster. On the other hand, it means there's a hell of a lot of overconfident up-and-comer petty crooks who think they'll be the guy to take me down. You would not believe how many guys tape flashlights to shotguns and hope they get a lucky shot. Rumor has it though, that the professional hitmen have taken me off their list and won't take a hit on me even at three times their usual rate. And we're talking million dollar fees here.

Vinnie's waiting for me at the entrance, chatting into a cell phone.

"Call off the search, boys. The boss is home safe."

He hangs up quickly.

"Jackie, what the hell happened? Jimmy says he was talking to you one minute, then the next you were gone."

"I went to hell."

"Again? This is what, the fifth time?"

"Something like that, Vinnie. I just spent my morning limping home from Long Island after telling the devil to go fuck himself."

"Jackie, you do know how long that walk is, right? You shouldn't even be alive."

"I know. Somehow I got dropped onto the Brooklyn Bridge. Don't ask me how. It doesn't make sense to me either. All I know is one minute I was talking to Jimmy the Grape, then the devil was behind the wheel of my car, and then I found myself nearly getting my head taken off by traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge in broad daylight."

Vinnie shakes his head.

"Jesus, Jackie. I don't even know how you get into these messes, but I do have some good news."

"Tell me, Vinnie. I could use some good news right about now."

"One of the boys was out buying a wedding present and happened to stumble across one of your keys at the curio shop he was browsing. He bought it right away and brought it back here."

"Do we know if it's legit?"

"Johnny says so. Spent hours running tests before he put in the box. He tested it and it fits."

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Okay, that was easy. Did the shopkeeper say anything? I mean, ancient mystical artifacts don't just turn up on the street."

Then where did you get half of yours, a small voice in my head wonders before I push it aside. Fine, you don't generally find ancient mystical artifacts on the street.

"Yeah, he did, actually. Apparently, a really beautiful girl sold it to him the other day. Dark hair, a nose ring…"

My stomach twists. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"What was she wearing?"

"Gold. Some kind of gold bikini under a trench coat."

My heart sank. The Angelus had put one of the keys into my hands. Something that was supposed to stop her was being given to me. It was like Troy. I was looking a gift wooden horse in the mouth. Everything I was working for could be a trap. If I put all the keys in the box, would I see Jenny again? Or would I do something I'd regret forever? Was it all a trap?

Why? It didn't make sense. The box was supposed to stop the Angelus. Johnny would know, he's never wrong about this stuff. I mean, he knows shit about artifacts not even the best museums know. He's picked out fakes a mile away. He'd never send me a trap, I know it. I mean, not willingly. Plus, why would the Brotherhood have something that would help the Angelus stored up?

Unless Jenny had something to do with it…Could Jenny act on her own? She had before, but that was when the Angelus had let her. Questions were buzzing in my mind like a cloud of flies, and I needed answers. And there was only one guy I knew who could give me them.

"I need to talk with Johnny Powell. Bring him to me."

"You got it, boss."

Ten minutes later, Johnny shudders his way into the room. He's with Jimmy the Grape, who doesn't look happy. It's a rare sight to see Jimmy's face out of that kindly old smile, and it's not a sight you want to see. Jimmy is a real tough cookie, and he doesn't tolerate people setting me up. He's the kind of man who looks equally at home playing bridge at a nursing home and blowing someone's brains out. It's a rare combination of hospitality and hostility. I've heard a variety of reasons as to why he's called Jimmy the Grape. It might be the purple suit. It might be that he likes his wine and makes his own from time to time. It also might be the fact that he tends to press people like grapes if they get in his way.

"Listen, Johnny," Jimmy says in that grandfatherly way of his, "you've got some explaining to do to Jackie. You're in big trouble if you've set him up."

I know that tone of voice. He only uses it if he's hinting you're going to become intimately familiar with the bottom of the Hudson River.

"Okay, okay! Jackie! I swear to God I didn't set you up! I've been translating the Ancient Sumerian or whatever, it's taken me a while! This ain't the kind of shit you can use Rosetta Stone or Google Translate on! This thing, it is meant to f-fight the Angelus. B-B-But it's not exactly a weapon. It's s-something that makes the Angelus a bit easier to fight."

"How?!"

"Okay, okay Jackie! Don't get mad! Look, from what I can t-tell, it basically takes the Angelus's host away. It gives the Angelus a d-different body, one that's basically an empty shell. S-so you'll get Jenny back, but you'll have to fight a-a p-p-pissed-off Angelus. Your only h-h-hope is being able to seal it away or, or…"

"Or what?!"

"Or r-r-reason with it. I don't know how. But, but if M-Moses can tell God to not nuke his hometown off the map for the sake of one good guy, maybe you can reason with it."

Jimmy relents.

"Jackie," Jimmy begins, "I don't pretend to understand this magic mumbo-jumbo. I really don't. But I do believe in a kind and loving God, and I think we've got a fighting chance against whatever this Angelus is. What you've got in you might be a family curse, but it's our family curse. You're not alone in fighting this. And while Johnny's off the hook for now…the moment he puts a toe out of line, just give the word and he disappears."

I shake my head.

"That won't be necessary, Jimmy. Give Johnny some good coffee. I'm going to need him to do some more research. Anybody know where Sara is?"

"Right here, boss!"

Sara walks in, a pair of headphones around her neck and a general look of ease that greatly clashes with the look of everyone else in the room. I suspect it's faked, but I don't say anything.

"Anything new?"

"Nothing, boss. We were trying to find more keys, until we found this envelope with the last two just sitting on your doorstep."

I gulp. That doesn't sound good.

"It's too easy," I say. "I mean, we'll test it. But who would send us those keys just out of the blue?"

The Angelus had given me one.

And now, two more had arrived. Enough to open the damn box.

Was this what The Angelus wanted?

I couldn't deal with this now. I waved my men away, took the box and keys to my room, and settled into my Jacuzzi. Soaking, I took a look at the box. It was right there, the key to my victory. I mean, fuck, if I used this now, I'd won, basically. I'd get Jenny back in my life, free her from The Angelus. Then I'd tell The Angelus to fuck off back to outer space and it'd be happily ever after.

I don't know why, but against all my common sense I started putting the keys in and turning them.

That's a lie. I do know why.

I've lived so fucking long without hope. I mean, how the fuck can I keep going without her? They can crown me the king of the whole fuckin' world but without Jenny this throne means nothing. I don't want to be the don. That's why I'm the most fit for it. Money and power are all very nice, but they're not what I want.

A lot of people, people who read too many damn comic books, they think it must be great havin' all these powers and going around like a total badass in a long coat shooting up crackhouses full of random goons. Maybe even saying a few one-liners while you're at it. Fuckin' movie star you are, wearing your gimp suit and Columbine shooter cosplay. Big fuckin' hero. Uncle Paulie would have liked that, y'know? He probably saw himself as the hero of his own little story, just like everyone else in this city. I'm not a hero and I never will be. I'm not a nice guy, I'm not a good boyfriend, I'm not a good boss, and I'm not a leader. I'm just the lesser of two evils, and that's all I'll ever be. It's not a moral high ground thing. And I'm sure that in a comic book or some video game or some shit, this speech would get all those Doritos and Mountain Dew guzzling fucks up in the air cheering.

But this is reality. And it hurts a ton. You think blowing away some two-bit punk makes the pain of losing a loved one go away? If that were true, I'd probably be icing people every night. You think dedicating yourself to some stupid vigilante cause with a mask on your face makes you a hero? If that were all it took, I'd be motherfucking Saint Peter right now. I'd be at the Pearly Gates with Jenny, kissing her and shaking God's hand. You know what being a vigilante is? It's the lowest fucking form of grief. It's hitting rock bottom and being so far in denial you don't even have the grace to just live on welfare and wallow in cheap ramen and Jack Daniels. The vigilante doesn't hit rock bottom and stop, he keeps tunnelling past it.

So for the record, that's why I'm turning the keys. Because I'm tired of being the big anti-hero. I'm tired of the gunplay, I'm tired of the badass posing on rooftops, and I'm really tired of the fucking demons and angels and shit. I mean, what the fuck do I look like, Spawn? This shit isn't for me. All I ever wanted was her. Because she loved me. Is that too much to ask?

I'm turning the keys. I'm making a decision I may very well regret. Because let's face it—I regret nearly every decision I've ever made.

Except for Jenny. Being with her was the one good call I made in my life.

The box opens slowly, and then…

There's a knife. And a piece of parchment. No flash of light, no torrent of darkness, nothing. To be honest I'm almost kind of disappointed. Every time I run into one of these life-or-death situations there's almost always enough black smoke to fill a Spirit Halloween fog machine department. Not this time. I take out the piece of parchment first, because I know to always read the damn user's manual when it comes to anything.

Not the iTunes user agreement, though. That thing's too damn long for its own good.

It's written in some complete gibberish of symbols. Of course it is.

And then an idea hits me. I turn out the light. Suddenly, the letters become clear as daylight.

I'd seen similar scribblings on the walls of Brotherhood safehouses, and in the Darkness's own realm. I figured I'd probably have to be in the dark to make any sense of it. And sure enough, the gibberish symbols start translating themselves to English.

TO TAKE BACK ONE INNOCENT, FIVE MUST BE KILLED.

THEIR BLOOD MUST STAIN THIS KNIFE.

ONLY THEN WILL THE HOST BE FREED.

The knife glints at me from the box. Jenny's salvation is lying here, for me to use on anyone I damn well feel like. Just five lives. Nobody would miss them.

Except me. Because I know I would feel the weight of those five murders my whole damn life.

I get dressed, and call Johnny to take a look at the note, just to make sure I'm not hallucinating.

"J-Jackie, thank god you c-contacted me. T-this thing, i-it's not lying to you. I j-just need to know, if you're really planning on killing innocent p-people. B-because if you do, I'm walking. I'm gone. S-shoot me or whatever, but…J-Jackie, I know you're better than this."

"I know," I reply, not smiling. "That's why I'm doing this."

Johnny's eyes widen in horror.

"ANGELUS!" I cry out, in my loudest tone. "I SUMMON THEE!"

And then, in the most blinding light I can imagine, she appears, gold, half-naked, and gorgeous.

I swallow hard.

The next words I speak could either save me or damn me.