Book and Blade: Book One of the Hand of Perdition (12 page)

"The man, the one who molested those children, killed two of them. I see how the evidence was light, but you had no doubt. When the prosecutors wouldn't charge him, you took it into your own hands. You were smart, nobody ever knew it was you. You killed him. You decided to be his judge."

"Enough, you fucking bastard." Hamlin stood up. "What else do you see kid? Did you see how they found out it was another guy? Did you see how I had dropped the case because I thought it was over, but the prosecutors wouldn't drop it? Another detective found evidence and DNA that all pointed to a different guy. Did you see that I killed the wrong guy kid, and that I almost let the real pervert get away? Does your magic power tell you that?"

"Yes Hamlin, I did tell you that it was evil I saw. What you did was wrong, but because murdering an innocent was wrong. In a way you had the right intentions."

"Look kid if this is your way to get me to help..."

"You judge people every day in your work. It’s your job. Do I arrest this guy? What is this guy's threat level? Do I need to draw my gun on this guy? Sometimes you make good judgments, sometimes you’re off. But what if you had the power to truly see people, truly understand their motivations? I am offering you redemption. I need your help, I can't take this weight on by myself."

"So you want me to be Commissioner Gordon to your Batman? I don't know kid, this doesn't make a lot of sense."

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know. I don't even know for sure half the things I just said. I’m running on instinct here, and I have no idea where the instinct is coming from."

"I need to go kid. I need to think. Please don't kill anyone until you hear back from me."

"I can't promise you that. I still have Ambros to take care of," Christopher said.

"Jesus Christ, did you have to tell me? Look just hold off. I need to sort this out, think it through. Please don't do anything stupid."

"Nothing has changed my need for vengeance."

Hamlin left and Christopher found himself once more in his room staring at the Book and Weapon. It occurred to him that in his conversation with Hamlin he had somehow, without thinking it through, made the decision that he would once again take up the Weapon.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The bar was a clean one, if not really upscale. It smelled of beer and liquor, but in a slight and pleasing sort of way. The bar and stools were dark wood. Masculine yet homey. The scent of bar food almost overpowered the scent of sin in the air.

Almost.

Christopher had needed another drink, and that need had led him to this place. You need a strong drink when you are contemplating the revenge-killing of the most feared crime bosses in the city. Or when you just slaughtered a not so innocent group of gang members. Frankly, after what had happened to him, Christopher had any number of reasons to get drunk.

Most importantly it helped him forget about the burning seed of power that burned deep down inside. He would stay drunk for the rest of his life if he had to.

Besides, a public place like this is probably safer than waiting at home for the next round of killers, both natural and supernatural, to show up at his house.

Shifting auras of lights and grays swarmed over the patrons. He could smell the evil and the good. He was becoming better at using his new senses, and for the most part he found his fellow humans to be a mix. Many stood out as evil, auras almost as black as the thugs that had tried to kill him. Some radiated a preponderance of good.

He didn't look too hard at the dark ones, the last thing he needed was to see the evil in random souls. He could already feel a slight stirring from the Weapon. He pushed it down, there was not going to be a repeat of the other night. More and more he felt it was like a dangerous pet that needed feeding. Only it was hard to keep this pet on a leash.

He sat at the bar and pulled out his wallet and license. He was young enough looking that he always got carded.

But not tonight. The bar tender didn't even glance at his ID. He was large, bald and covered with tattoos. Even so, he seemed to have a reluctance to get too close to the skinny kid that had just sat down at the bar.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"Beer. Surprise me, something on tap."

Soon Christopher had a cold lager in front of him. He scanned the room using the mirror behind the bar, cultivating his paranoia. Interestingly and thankfully he noted that he could not see auras in the mirror, but he could still smell the sickening, rotting stench of evil. It made him hungry.

An image in the mirror caught his attention. Just a quick flash as someone darted out of eyesight behind a pillar. A flash of black hair and pale skin, a glimpse of a tattoo.

He spun around trying to catch her. She was gone, but the pillar was there, across the room. The pillar was not that thick and he could see her arm. He made his way toward it, pushing through the small crowd. When he was almost there, she made a break for it and shot from behind the pillar. Tired of this game, he altered his route to intercept her. She had fewer people in her way, however, and could move faster.

He noticed something odd about her. Her aura was split down the middle almost exactly. One side was light gray with darker clouds swirling through, the other was a much darker gray, almost black, with lighter clouds swirling through. It was unusual enough that it made him pause.

She ran down the back hallway, presumably to a back exit or perhaps the women’s bathroom. He chased her down the hallway. She had almost reached the back door when he caught up to her.

Christopher caught her arm. She cried out when he snagged her. He pulled her back from the door and pushed her up against the wall.

"Who are you and why are you following me?" Christopher asked.

She looked up at him through the hair that had fallen across her face. For the first time he saw her up close. She had pale skin and silver-blue eyes. She did indeed have a tattoo that came up from her collar and spilled across her neck. It was a demon or a dragon, something like that. She was beautiful and afraid. He could see it in her timid gaze.

But that didn't matter, she was following him and he needed to know why. Still for a moment, while he looked at her, he had forgotten why he was holding her or what he needed to say.

Then the strong stench of evil wafted up from her and his thoughts cleared.

"Hey! What the fuck you doing with her?"

A large man and a couple of his equally large friends had come around the corner quickly. They had obviously seen the chase and were eager the help a damsel in distress. Especially if that damsel was as beautiful as this girl.

"You okay?" the large leader asked the girl.

Suddenly the fear and timidity left the girl and she smirked.

"Actually this asshole won’t take no for an answer," she said. "I told him I won't go home with him, and I guess he thinks he can just drag me out of here."

Christopher released the girl more out of shock than anything.

"That’s not true, she’s been following me..." Christopher started.

"Sure. That hottie has been following a skinny little pussy like you all night. Did you slip any drugs into her drink?

"What? No..."

The three men moved forward making sure to cut off any escape.

"You one of those bastards that thinks they can just force a woman. Just take what he wants?"

The girl was laughing now as she slipped away from him. He could see the evil glint in her eyes. Mischievous more than evil really.

Christopher looked at the men and he could see inside their souls. The leader had a dark taint, some horrible crime. Given a moment Christopher might be able to decipher what it was exactly. He could feel the power inside of him rising up, he struggled to control it.

"Perhaps we should take you outside and show you what it’s like to just take what you want.”

"No, that is not a good idea,” Christopher said. The power was taking hold, the best he could do was try to channel it.

The leader grinned back at this buddies.

"Oh yeah? And why is that bitch?"

"Because I do not want to kill you."

That made the leader pause. Maybe because it was so unexpected, maybe the man heard something else in Christopher's voice. Either way, he only paused for a moment.

"Oh yeah motherfucker," the leader said as he grabbed Christopher and pushed him up against the wall.

Over his shoulder he saw the girl open the back door with a smirk on her face, like she was enjoying his predicament. Halfway through the door though, she paused and looked back. She shuddered, but more importantly her aura shuddered, and suddenly she looked scared and worried. Her eyes widened in what only could be described as shock.

She said something, he couldn't hear her, but he was pretty sure it was
I'm sorry
.

It confused Christopher enough that he missed the fist flying at his face. It connected with a bone crunching sound and an explosion of pain. Two more rapid punches landed in his gut, bending him over. It seemed the other two wanted to join in on the fun. Caught by surprise Christopher doubled over.

Then the power of hell surged through him. He caught the foot that had kicked out at his stomach, an easy target now that he was bent over. The leader’s foot stopped instantly in his vice grip.

Christopher pushed back on the man's leg and sent him sailing into one of his buddies. With the infusion of hell-power the man flew down the length of the hall.

The leader’s friend came in, fists swinging. Christopher caught one of his fists and squeezed. It cracked like a walnut. The man screamed.

This man's aura and scent was more clean than dirty. Normal sins, normal mistakes. Christopher fought against the hunger inside, and this time one he pushed it down. He let the screaming man fall to the side clutching his fist, now limp and lumpy like a sack of marbles.

"You have a chance at redemption," Christopher said to the screaming man, although Christopher did not believe he was heard.

The leader of the three had regained his footing and after steadying himself, charged at Christopher.

Christopher easily evaded his slow punches and caught him up by the throat. That was when he saw it.

The scent and sight hit him at once. This man had murdered. He was a cop, a dirty one, Christopher could see. Taking bribes, looking the other way. But it was the true crime that had damned this man.

He saw him pulling over the girl. He saw him pulling her from the car, forcing her to do horrible things. Knowing all the time that he was above the law. He was the law. She would be broken and scared, nobody to believe her. And then when he was done using her body, he upped the ante. Knowing he was untouchable, he strangled her to death. And it was the greatest pleasure he had ever felt. Christopher felt the man's pleasure and it sickened him.

No remorse, no guilt. Christopher knew he would do it again.

He threw the man through the back door, splintering the heavy wood. The man lay sprawled across the alley.

Christopher leaped on top of him. The Weapon, now a small dagger, in his hands. The man looked up at him, unable to breath from his broken ribs, one of which protruded from his chest.

"I condemn you to hell," Christopher said and slipped the dagger into the man’s heart.

He felt the dagger tremble in his hands and Christopher knew he was drawing his soul out and sending it down to hell.

Christopher stood up and looked around. While it felt like time had slowed, the whole fight had lasted seconds. He had only moments before people responded to the crashing door at the back of the club.

He sniffed the air. He could smell her. The curious mix of heavy sin and innocence. He knew he could track her, it's what he was made for.

He shot off down the street. She was only seconds ahead of him.

Out on the main street he slowed down. He hadn't pulled shadows around him and wanted to remain inconspicuous.

He sniffed the air again to determine where she went. She headed south. There! Down the street he saw her. She was on the other side of the street running down the sidewalk.

It was a busy this time of night, so Christopher had to carefully navigate the street. Throwing up his hands to stop cars, he was greeted by honks and yelling, but they stopped.

It also alerted the girl that he was behind her. She glanced back and for a moment she hesitated as though torn between turning around and continuing on. Then she made a decision and kept running.

"Wait," Christopher called, but was ignored.

Hearing him call out, she ran faster, much faster. Too fast for a human.

Great
, Christopher thought,
another supernatural being
.

He could chase after her via rooftops, but currently he had a several people looking at him and the last thing he needed was to draw more attention.

He watched as she turned the corner and disappeared. He tracked her scent through the streets for several blocks, but it was soon apparent he was far behind her.

He decided to give up for now. He had other problems to deal with at the moment.

Was she somehow part of all this? Probably. Was she on Rath's side? Ambros? Some other player in this game? Whoever she was he was pretty confident that was not the last time he was going to see her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Rath stood on the dark rooftop trying not to inhale the stench around him. It was not the pleasant smell of rotting flesh and blood that he enjoyed, it was the stench of living mortals. It was a waste of flesh. He hated it. He hated them.

He wouldn't be here at all if this wasn't the only place the Other would meet him. The Other preferred dark, hidden places for their meetings. And this deserted rooftop was above the concerns of humans.

He heard a noise and then sensed the approach of one of his brethren.

Across the rooftop the door to the stairs opened and a blob of a man stepped out. Not all fat, at least not entirely, but large and round. He walked with a ponderous gait and for a moment Rath was concerned the roof would not support him.