I am leaning my back against a bar. There is a bloody Mary in my hands.
Devon Rayne is next to me. He has a double shot of scotch on the rocks. I
guess he needs it for what he is about to do.
We are in the Gold Lion. Janette Hastings used to work here. I am pretending I haven't noticed where I am. Apart from the strippers, I must be the only thing female in the room.
Fortunately I am hanging on the arm of Devon Rayne. Not quite literally, but where he goes I go. Devon is far too noticeably powerful for anyone to even think of hitting on me. It seeps out of his pores. He is doing it on purpose. He is trying to draw out Janette's stalker.
We think this is his hunting ground.
Warren Beady is across the bar, hiding under a pair of sunglasses. Both Devon and I are avoiding acknowledging him. We are trying not to give away his position, and his relationship to us.
I have my Glock and my P230 but I don't exactly have a good firing arm. It's still in a bandage.
Devon sips his scotch and waits. He is way too composed for someone who is probably about to die.
I can feel it when Valadheir enters the room. I still don't know how Fred Masters knew his name, or why Janette was surprised that she was the last one to see him. I don't really care. I just want him gone.
He is a 30 year old man, wearing a trench coat. He is still missing his arm. He is big, brawny. He overstands Devon Rayne by nearly a foot. I hope this is a wise idea. I know that it isn't.
Devon's power is blazing, but this time it isn't directed at me. I recognise one of the men in the crowd, as the guy at the tent in the Circus. He's brought half his troupe along.
Valadheir turns cold, angry eyes against us. "I am going to kill you this time." He is looking at me.
"Now now, little namaru. Control your temper," Devon taunts with a passionless voice.
Valadheir finally notices Devon. How he couldn't notice him before, I simply don't know. He says, "I'll show you my temper."
He goes for Devon's scotch. Devon drops it so fast you would think it was poison. All the glass behind the bar explodes and shatters. Maybe that is what happened last time.
Valadheir roars living flame. It won't bring his arm back.
We both duck, but it lights up the bar. The bartender runs screaming into the night. His hair is on fire. So much for low profile.
The room erupts into a mass of confusion. Everybody runs from the building. Everyone except us fools who are here to kill something immortal.
Devon rolls back to his feet with pure fluid grace. I stumble around a bit first. The very air roars to life. It is darkness outside. The building shakes with a great roll of thunder. I hope that it is Devon doing that and not the other guy.
I pull out my Glock and point it at the roaring creature before me. He is still in the middle of the room, ripping up everything in his path. The fire at the bar is spreading. A line of burning alcohol slips in my direction.
I empty my barrel into the demon and it doesn't make a damned bit of difference. The walls shake with thunder again. Lightning crashes down so close it is blinding. All of the windows crash in. It is pelting with rain outside.
The demon heads toward me and I pull out my P230. I know it is not going to do me any good.
There is another loud boom and a table near Valadheir is blown half way across the room. Beady has a shotgun, I told him to bring it. I wish he had better aim.
The thing looks around the room at us all. All of a sudden it looks like it might really lose.
I still doubt it would but it doesn't agree.
It doesn't want to risk hell either.
It turns and runs toward the exit. Half of the room is on fire. Devon follows it out on the street.
It has made a bad choice. Now it is outside in Devon's storm. The clouds are so low, so dark, so ominous, there's no way it is natural. Lightning snakes across and arches down. Valadheir shudders with the impact.
He is almost living flame. One wonders what lightning can do. Apparently it has done enough. It is after all, a supernatural force.
I hobble out into the street. Devon looks so pale. He turns into his followers and they surround him like water. I don't think he can do any more.
It won't be enough.
The demon is right near me, coming for me. I am an easier target than Devon right now.
I click my P230 into its skull but it grabs me and shackles me at the wrists. It is still burning and now so am I. I scream into its hollow eyes.
"God doesn't love you Dalanheim!" I don't know who God does or doesn't love. I don't blame him if it is not me. But I am not going to let you murder my friends.
The lightning that has hit Valadheir has started something within his body. I can feel it. It is a slow death but it is there. It is something that I can grab on to.
And I do. I pull at it, hard. I want to unravel his soul, if he has one. If I am going to hell, he is coming right with me. He growls at me, angry, but we are both dying now. I scream and spit in his face. He comes crashing down on top of me.
There is a body on top of me, and it is burning, but it is not an angel. It is just a man. Valadheir has been forced from his body. One of three things can happen now. He could choose to take over another, he could become an inanimate form, or if I am lucky he'll be sucked back into hell.
The rain pelts down on me and puts out the fire. I am burnt all over and covered in blood. I'm not sure, but I think I'm still alive.
God, it's a miracle. If I didn't know he existed, I would learn to believe.
He exists but this cannot be his doing. Valadheir is right. God doesn't love me.
I get up out of the gutter. I cannot see Devon Rayne and his followers. They have gone to recuperate.
I am suddenly so weak I cannot even hold myself up. Warren Beady appears out of the darkness. His shirt is ripped but otherwise he is unharmed. His arms reach out and keep me from falling down. There is concern in his eyes.
"Jack? Jack!?"
I am so drained. My body feels like lead. The world is turning black around me. I don't want to go back to hell.
Something buzzes up in my body. A need that has to be filled. I don't know what it is, and I don't think I can control it.
It spirals up through my skin, through my soul, and strikes out at Warren Beady. I wrench forcefully at his soul and there is a minor, metaphysical explosion. It is not on the physical plane. Warren staggers before he rights himself.
I suddenly suspect I have done something that will bind us together for all time. Warren is looking at me strangely. Right now he knows I'm not human.
"What did you just do to me?" he asks.
"I don't know," I tell him truthfully. Whatever it is, I feel better already.
He looks into my eyes as though he is searching for something. His eyes are dark and withdrawn. I don't know what he is looking for. Maybe he is looking for Jack.
Whatever it is, he must find it. Because his eyes warm over once more. He helps me stand up, supports me with one arm. "Let's get out of here."
I don't know what to say. I have just spiritually raped Warren Beady, and he is still my friend.
I just don't know what to say.
Somebody finally likes me.
We are in the Gold Lion. Janette Hastings used to work here. I am pretending I haven't noticed where I am. Apart from the strippers, I must be the only thing female in the room.
Fortunately I am hanging on the arm of Devon Rayne. Not quite literally, but where he goes I go. Devon is far too noticeably powerful for anyone to even think of hitting on me. It seeps out of his pores. He is doing it on purpose. He is trying to draw out Janette's stalker.
We think this is his hunting ground.
Warren Beady is across the bar, hiding under a pair of sunglasses. Both Devon and I are avoiding acknowledging him. We are trying not to give away his position, and his relationship to us.
I have my Glock and my P230 but I don't exactly have a good firing arm. It's still in a bandage.
Devon sips his scotch and waits. He is way too composed for someone who is probably about to die.
I can feel it when Valadheir enters the room. I still don't know how Fred Masters knew his name, or why Janette was surprised that she was the last one to see him. I don't really care. I just want him gone.
He is a 30 year old man, wearing a trench coat. He is still missing his arm. He is big, brawny. He overstands Devon Rayne by nearly a foot. I hope this is a wise idea. I know that it isn't.
Devon's power is blazing, but this time it isn't directed at me. I recognise one of the men in the crowd, as the guy at the tent in the Circus. He's brought half his troupe along.
Valadheir turns cold, angry eyes against us. "I am going to kill you this time." He is looking at me.
"Now now, little namaru. Control your temper," Devon taunts with a passionless voice.
Valadheir finally notices Devon. How he couldn't notice him before, I simply don't know. He says, "I'll show you my temper."
He goes for Devon's scotch. Devon drops it so fast you would think it was poison. All the glass behind the bar explodes and shatters. Maybe that is what happened last time.
Valadheir roars living flame. It won't bring his arm back.
We both duck, but it lights up the bar. The bartender runs screaming into the night. His hair is on fire. So much for low profile.
The room erupts into a mass of confusion. Everybody runs from the building. Everyone except us fools who are here to kill something immortal.
Devon rolls back to his feet with pure fluid grace. I stumble around a bit first. The very air roars to life. It is darkness outside. The building shakes with a great roll of thunder. I hope that it is Devon doing that and not the other guy.
I pull out my Glock and point it at the roaring creature before me. He is still in the middle of the room, ripping up everything in his path. The fire at the bar is spreading. A line of burning alcohol slips in my direction.
I empty my barrel into the demon and it doesn't make a damned bit of difference. The walls shake with thunder again. Lightning crashes down so close it is blinding. All of the windows crash in. It is pelting with rain outside.
The demon heads toward me and I pull out my P230. I know it is not going to do me any good.
There is another loud boom and a table near Valadheir is blown half way across the room. Beady has a shotgun, I told him to bring it. I wish he had better aim.
The thing looks around the room at us all. All of a sudden it looks like it might really lose.
I still doubt it would but it doesn't agree.
It doesn't want to risk hell either.
It turns and runs toward the exit. Half of the room is on fire. Devon follows it out on the street.
It has made a bad choice. Now it is outside in Devon's storm. The clouds are so low, so dark, so ominous, there's no way it is natural. Lightning snakes across and arches down. Valadheir shudders with the impact.
He is almost living flame. One wonders what lightning can do. Apparently it has done enough. It is after all, a supernatural force.
I hobble out into the street. Devon looks so pale. He turns into his followers and they surround him like water. I don't think he can do any more.
It won't be enough.
The demon is right near me, coming for me. I am an easier target than Devon right now.
I click my P230 into its skull but it grabs me and shackles me at the wrists. It is still burning and now so am I. I scream into its hollow eyes.
"God doesn't love you Dalanheim!" I don't know who God does or doesn't love. I don't blame him if it is not me. But I am not going to let you murder my friends.
The lightning that has hit Valadheir has started something within his body. I can feel it. It is a slow death but it is there. It is something that I can grab on to.
And I do. I pull at it, hard. I want to unravel his soul, if he has one. If I am going to hell, he is coming right with me. He growls at me, angry, but we are both dying now. I scream and spit in his face. He comes crashing down on top of me.
There is a body on top of me, and it is burning, but it is not an angel. It is just a man. Valadheir has been forced from his body. One of three things can happen now. He could choose to take over another, he could become an inanimate form, or if I am lucky he'll be sucked back into hell.
The rain pelts down on me and puts out the fire. I am burnt all over and covered in blood. I'm not sure, but I think I'm still alive.
God, it's a miracle. If I didn't know he existed, I would learn to believe.
He exists but this cannot be his doing. Valadheir is right. God doesn't love me.
I get up out of the gutter. I cannot see Devon Rayne and his followers. They have gone to recuperate.
I am suddenly so weak I cannot even hold myself up. Warren Beady appears out of the darkness. His shirt is ripped but otherwise he is unharmed. His arms reach out and keep me from falling down. There is concern in his eyes.
"Jack? Jack!?"
I am so drained. My body feels like lead. The world is turning black around me. I don't want to go back to hell.
Something buzzes up in my body. A need that has to be filled. I don't know what it is, and I don't think I can control it.
It spirals up through my skin, through my soul, and strikes out at Warren Beady. I wrench forcefully at his soul and there is a minor, metaphysical explosion. It is not on the physical plane. Warren staggers before he rights himself.
I suddenly suspect I have done something that will bind us together for all time. Warren is looking at me strangely. Right now he knows I'm not human.
"What did you just do to me?" he asks.
"I don't know," I tell him truthfully. Whatever it is, I feel better already.
He looks into my eyes as though he is searching for something. His eyes are dark and withdrawn. I don't know what he is looking for. Maybe he is looking for Jack.
Whatever it is, he must find it. Because his eyes warm over once more. He helps me stand up, supports me with one arm. "Let's get out of here."
I don't know what to say. I have just spiritually raped Warren Beady, and he is still my friend.
I just don't know what to say.
Somebody finally likes me.