Damoren (14 page)

Matt looked back at the bottle.
Four beads. Two toward the trees, one toward the barn, another behind them. “We’re surrounded!”

“
Where?” Anya asked.

“
Two demons there. One up there,” he said, pointing the machinegun. “Another down the drive.” Matt checked the bottle again. One of the beads elongated, like the goop in a lava lamp, then split into two smaller beads. “There’s another up there.” He pointed across the yard.

Anya motioned to the approaching men.
“And them?”

“
Familiars, I think.”

“
Everyone stay together,” Malcolm said.

Kazuo lifted his blade before him with both hands.
“This was a trap.”

“
We’re ready for it.” Malcolm turned toward the last direction Matt had pointed. “Send those fuckers to hell for what they did.”

Matt stepped up beside the dilapidated shed.
A shot fired, punching a hole in the corrugated tin by his arm. “Stay down!” Crouching, he spotted the bald man with the rifle about twenty yards away aiming his direction. Matt popped the Ingram up and fired.

Blood burst from Baldy
’s gut. He staggered back, the gun going off in the air. He dropped to a knee and brought the rifle up.

Matt shot another burst.
Red plumes erupted, stitching a jagged line up the shooter’s body and he fell. Matt ejected the spent magazine and slapped another one in.

Four quick pistol shots fired behind him.
He glanced back to see Kazuo, katana in one hand, Colt in the other, firing up the other hill.

Matt couldn’t see the two other men in the field. Squinting, he scanned the area, trying to find them. Near the tree line, maybe sixty yards away, a dark shape moved.

He drew Dämoren.

Green eyes ignited.
It stepped out. Orange embers crackled over a red, muscled body.
An ifrit.
The machinegun wouldn’t work on it and Dämoren’s ammo was too precious to try at that range.

Another beast moved behind it, towering and broad with black-brown fur.
Werewolf. A big one.

“
I see one,” Susumu called from beside the barn. “A pale woman with wings.”

Kazuo relayed the samurai
’s words, then added, “Succubus.”

“
Get ready,” Malcolm called.

The ifrit moved forward, then stopped.
It looked at Matt, its eyes pupil-less emerald fire. Orange flames flickered across its shoulders.

“
What’s it doing?” Anya hissed, behind him. “Why are they waiting?”

Matt kept watching them.
“I don’t know.”

The ifrit stepped back, the flames dimming.
Green eyes narrowed. It turned and vanished into the shadows. The werewolf threw its head back toward the sky. A wailing howl pierced the air. Then it, too, ran into the cover of trees.

“
Where’d it go?” she asked, stepping beside him.

Instinctively
Matt put his hand out, keeping her from going further. The man with the wooden club jumped up from the grass thirty feet away and sprinted away. The other man fled out from behind a rusted pile of metal pipes.

Matt checked the bottle.
Six blobs, then five. Three. “They’re leaving.”

“
What’s going on? Malcolm called.

“
They’re leaving,” Anya yelled back.

“
What?” Malcolm marched closer, keeping his gaze out on the surrounding property. “Why?”

Matt shook his head.
“I don’t know.” The last sphere of blood burst and swirled apart.

“
Do you feel them?” Luc asked Malcolm.

“
I can only tell if one is close, a feeling I’ve had ever since
he
showed up,” Malcolm said, shooting a hateful glare Matt’s direction.

“
They’re gone,” Matt said, lifting the bottle.

“
Did you see the way it looked at you?” Anya asked him.

Malcolm turned to
her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged.
“There was an ifrit and werewolf. The ifrit looked at him, stopped, then left. Then the wolf howled.”

“
And then they all fled.” He looked at Matt. “Why would they do that?”

Matt
shrugged.

The hunter seemed to chew on that for a second, then turned to the others.
“We have an hour until dark. They could come back, and I don’t want to be here when the sun goes down. Anya, you and Kazuo photograph everything. Start with the bodies, then the walls. I want every detail recorded. Luc,” he turned to the huge man, “there were some fuel cans in the shed. You and Susumu take those. We’ll pile the bodies out here into the barn and light it. Once the others are done, we’ll give rites to our brothers and sister and burn the house. No evidence.”

“
What about Selene?” Anya asked. “We never found her.”

Malcolm slid Hounacier
back into its wood sheath. “If her body isn’t here we can only assume the worst. If this was a summoning, the demon they called needed a body.”

“
No.” Anya covered her mouth.

“
There were six of them. Five made the ring, the sixth became the vessel. Once we’re done we’ll head out the other way, see if we can find any cameras Ramón and Anthony might have left on their approach. Let’s move.”

“
What do you want me to do?” Matt asked.

“
You? I want you by my side.”

“
What?”

“
They laid a trap for us,” Malcolm said, his jaw tight. “They waited. Then the moment they see
you
they just leave. And until you can explain why they’d do that, I don’t want you out of my sight.”

Ghoul
-
Daemo Cadaverdegulo

The ghoul is a cowardly fiend frequently nesting in burial sites and sewers. Its diet consists primarily of corpses and refuse, but given safe opportunity it will kill humans and animals, especially children or the ill. Ghouls are often mistaken for undead demons, such as vampires. However, a ghoul’s spirit will not survive in a host that dies. The demon’s association with corpses and their unique ability to enslave dead bodies as servants perpetuates this confusion, even with Valducan knights.

Physical Characteristics:

Ghouls have two forms, depending on what type of host they possess. In a human body, the creature appears as a thin man with long arms and wild hair. Their skin is dry and varies in color between gray and green. Human ghouls walk on hands and feet in a manner akin to chimpanzees. Ghouls can also possess the bodies of hyenas. In these bodies they appear as a man with a dog’s head. Their color ranges from brown to black.

Ghouls cannot change their form to appear as a normal human or hyena. They maintain the sex of their host’s body.

When killed, a ghoul’s soul burns with a brilliant yellow flame.

Weaknesses:

Ghouls are among the weakest of demonkind, and their bodies can withstand only a little more grievous harm than what would kill a normal man.

Obsidian blades kill them quite easily.

Sakaran and Quaysoum herbs repulse ghouls.

Behavior:

Ghouls prefer digging up graves for food rather than risk direct confrontation. They will attack when cornered or if they judge the victim as helpless, often the very old or very young. They are opportunistic in combats, seeking ambush over frontal assault.

Ghouls are pack-minded and will gather in groups of four or five.
They also will serve stronger demonkind as slaves. Ghoul packs are extremely brutal, led by the most powerful member, who is frequently overthrown and killed by the rest of the pack every few years. Because demons can permanently kill other demons, this means few ghouls reach the astounding ages that other, more powerful demons can achieve.

They are most frequently found in dry, arid regions.

Corpses:

While unable to create familiars, older ghouls possess the unique ability to infuse a piece of their essence into a corpse, animating it as a mindless servant. These walking cadavers, while slow, are extremely strong. Destroying these abominations requires piercing the heart.

In a pack, only the pack leader will be allowed to control corpses, even if other ghouls possess the ability. Those ghouls may, however, kill their leader, taking the pack for themselves, or leave the pack entirely.

The number of corpses a ghoul can control is a strong indicator of how many centuries it has existed.

History:

The oldest accounts of ghouls originate in Arabic and Mesopotamian texts. It is believed that ghouls may also have inspired Egyptian lore of Anubis, the jackal-headed god of the dead.

Sir Gudmund Linblad, 1823

Translated and amended by Lady Helen Meadows, 1958

Chapter
Seven

“Oh Lord God, no,” Tom blurted. He turned away from gruesome image on the screen. Eslarin, his once-bonded sword smashed and driven through his former student.

Ben put a hand on the big man
’s shoulder, but Tom brushed it aside.

Matt wished he could say something, anything.

More pictures flashed
, graphic close-ups of the symbols and carnage. The hunters all watched in grim silence as Anya scrolled past images of their dead.

Matt drank the last of his coffee.
He’d been awake for twenty-one hours, thirteen trapped inside a van. He wanted one of those big twenty-four ounce coffees from back home, maybe two. These tiny porcelain cups they served here just didn’t cut it.

“
There it is,” Malcolm said. An image of the giant bloody footprint filled the wall screen.

Seats creaked in unison, creating an almost musical groan as everyone leaned forward followed by a chorus of mumbles and whispers.

“What in the hell is that?” Luiza asked, seemingly to herself. She sat in the seat beside Matt.

“
Something big,” Jean said.

“
Have you ever seen anything like that?” Malcolm asked Turgen.

The old man leaned closer, studying it for several seconds.
Finally, “No.” He looked to Schmidt who only shook his head.

Anya took a drag off her cigarette
and flipped to the next photo. It was a wide shot, showing the large scrawled glyphs. On the left, Natuche, her head nothing more than a crushed and bloody lump. On the right, Yev, his face contorted in some hideous expression left by a broken jaw. The thick rivulets of congealed blood down the sides told he’d still been alive when his eyes had been torn out.

Tom stood abruptly and limped out.

Luiza started for the door after him, but Turgen raised a hand to stop her.

“Let him go. I’ll go speak with him in a bit.”

She hesitated, then reluctantly returned to her seat beside Matt.

“I feel so terrible for him,” she muttered.

Matt nodded.
“Me too.”

They sat silent as more bloody images flashed past.
Several times Matt caught sideling glances from the others in the room. Malcolm was the only one who didn’t shy away.

Once the photos had finished, Schmidt asked,
“Allan are you ready with the videos, yet?”

Allan clicked through keys on the desktop near the screen.
A yellow cable ran from the computer to the last of the four recovered cameras. “Almost. Five minutes.”

Turgen slid his fingers beneath his wire frame glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“Fine. While Mister Havlock is finishing, I suggest we take a break. We’ll reconvene in fifteen minutes.” He pushed himself up from the seat with his cane and left.

Matt looked in the bottom of his empty cup.
With a sigh, he rose from his uncomfortable chair and headed toward the door.

“
And where are you going?” Malcolm asked.

Matt lifted the little cup, shaking it.
“Coffee.” He turned to Allan, peering intently at his screen. “You need a refill?”

“
No thank you. Haven’t touched the last cup.”

Malcolm shook his head.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you go alone.”

Everyone went quiet.

“I appreciate your concern,” he said, fighting down his anger, “but I think I can find the kitchen by myself.”

“
I’m not worried about you getting lost. I’m worried about a demon creeping around our house.”

“
Demon?” Matt snapped. “Look, I didn’t ask to join this little party. You found me. I’m very sorry you lost your friends. I really am. But I didn’t fly half-way around the world for you to treat me like some God-damned monster.”

Malcolm chewed his lip, staring Matt down as he rose to his feet.
“Doesn’t change what you are. Why did those demons run when they saw you? What aren’t you telling us?”

“
I’m not hiding anything. Maybe they left because we killed their familiars before they could get close enough.”

“Bullshit. They had us surrounded. They could have kept us pinned in.”

“
They were trying to close in while we were inside. If I hadn’t alerted everyone they’d have been on us before you knew it.”

“
And how again did you know they were coming?” Malcolm asked. “Blood? Not exactly human.”

“
You saw me kill one of those dead things and the guy with the rifle. The one trying to
shoot me
. If I was against you, why would I kill them?”

“
Familiars. They’re expendable. Maybe trying to gain our trust. I don’t know. Maybe they didn’t expect you to be there, then once they saw you they were gone.” His fingers inched toward Hounacier’s white horn handle.

Matt grabbed Dämoren
’s grip and thumbed the snap open. “Just try it.”

Schmidt slammed his fist down on his chair
’s arm. “Gentlemen!” He glared up at Matt, his blue eyes cold. “Mister Hollis, I warned you.”

“
You warned me never to draw it, and I haven’t, but if this asshole pulls so much as an inch of steel from that sheath, I’ll consider it a challenge. I read enough about the Valducans to know challenges have happened before.”

Malcolm grinned.
“That rule only applies to Valducans.”

“
You’re right. I might not be one, but Dämoren is.”

“
Mister Hollis,” Schmidt growled. “Stand down.”

“
I will right after he does.”

Schmidt
’s jaw tightened. “Fine. Sit down, Malcolm.”

“
Master Schmidt, I don’t—”

“
I promised Mister Hollis he would be safe here,” Schmidt said, his stern voice rising. “I gave him my word. Now sit.”

Malcolm released the machete handle, holding his hands out to the side.
His eyes narrowed, but never left Matt as he lowered back into his seat. “I still don’t want him wandering around by himself. Demon or not, he’s not one of us.”

Others murmured their agreement, Colin, Jean, Ben,
Luc, Anya.

Schmidt nodded.
“I tend to concur. Mister Hollis, you are welcome to stay in this house, but outside your room you need to be accompanied.”

Matt chewed on the old man
’s words.
I suppose I’ll be calling you every night when I need to go take a piss.
“Fine.” Matt forced a smile. “Would someone please accompany me to the kitchen?”

“
I will,” Luiza said. She marched straight toward the door and opened it, seemingly blind to the others’ stares. She turned. “Coming?”

“
Yes, thank you.” He shot a ‘fuck you’ grin to Malcolm and followed her out.

The door closed behind them
, and Matt let out a long sigh. His heart pounded with anger. He could almost feel the silver slug jarring with each beat.

Malcolm. Arrogant shit.
Matt wanted to punch that bastard square in the mouth. Knock that cheap-ass attempt at intimidation right off his face. And Schmidt saying they didn’t trust him alone. Well, he
was
alone. He’d been alone since Clay died. Hell, he’d been alone since that wendigo killed his family and turned him into...into whatever he was.

‘
Don’t talk like that,’ Clay had once said when Matt was seventeen and feeling particularly sorry for himself one day. “You ain’t no monster. Dämoren chose you. She
wanted
you to live.
I
want you to live. We’re family.” By that time the tumor inside him had begun its work, though neither of them knew it yet.

“
I’m sorry about that,” Luiza said, breaking his thoughts. “Everyone is taking this really hard, and I think they just took it out on you.”

He didn
’t say anything.

“
I’m not excusing it or anything. I just wanted you to know why. We’ve lost a lot of our family. Not just these but over the past several months... They’re angry, and scared, and...”

Matt gave a small nod.
“It’s fine. Thanks again, Luiza.”

They headed down to the kitchen where Matt found himself face to face with some industrial coffee machine, all chrome and buttons.
He stared at it for a few seconds, trying to figure out where to even begin. He turned to Luiza who chuckled at his helpless expression.

“
Move over.” She took the cup from his hand. “I’ll show you.”

He
stepped back and leaned against a counter as she filled the steel filter with grounds and twisted it in before manipulating the little knob and buttons. “So why do you trust me?” he asked finally.

She turned, her chocolate eyes regarding him.
“Because if you were a monster you wouldn’t be killing demons. And if you were trying to infiltrate us, you’d have made some attempt to contact us. Instead, we came to you.”

Matt thought about that, watching the syrupy liquids pour into their two cups.
“And the things I can do, that doesn’t scare you?”

Luiza shrugged.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think you’re a monster.”

He smiled.
“I really appreciate that.”

She poured milk into his cup, gave it a quick stir and handed it to him.
“We need to get back.”

Drinks in hand, they made their way up to the meeting room.
Passing a window, Matt spied Turgen outside in the courtyard with Tom. They both limped along the far side near the arched drive entrance, Turgen with his cane and Tom his prosthetic.

“
One of the men we lost in Mexico was Master Turgen’s student, Gabriel,” Luiza said, solemnly. “His sword, Rowlind was broken as well. He took it very hard.”

Terrible thing to have in common.
Matt touched Dämoren under his arm. Losing her, seeing her broken and defiled was probably the single worst thing he could imagine. For them it was real. They’d seen it. Seen their students dead. He watched the two men slowly circle toward the house, then he and Luiza continued up.

Voices poured out from the meeting room as they neared.
A few people stood outside the door, alone or in murmuring groups. A noticeable hush fell as Matt and Luiza approached. Matt just ignored it and took his seat.

Three minutes later, Turgen returned.
Tom wasn’t with him. “Allan, are the videos ready?”

“
They are.”

The old man
settled into his chair. “So let us see what happened to our knights.”

Allan tapped the keys
, and the satellite image of the farmhouse appeared on the screen. “Malcolm’s team found four cameras. Cameras one and two were on the east side approximately here, and here.” A white arrow cursor glided across the screen circling the cattle feeder and a fence near the barn. “Cameras three and four were on the western side, here and here.” He circled a spot maybe thirty feet from the house where they’d found one of the cameras resting on a cement birdbath. Forty feet beyond that, they’d found the last one atop a stump. The old image on the screen still showed a tree there.

“
What’s interesting,” Allan continued, “is that cameras two and three are both clean. Completely wiped.”

“
What do you mean?” Malcolm asked.

“
I mean their memories are blank. There’s nothing on them.”

“
Erased?”

“
No. Erased memories will still hold residual information. Camera three is so clean that even factory settings are gone. Two, still has memory, but it’s unreadable.”

“
Do you know what could have done that?” Turgen asked.

Allan brushed his hair and shrugged.
“It’s like they were exposed to a magnet, but not just a little magnet. More like the type you’d pick up a car with. Really powerful.”

“
All the clocks in the house were blinking,” Luc said, his hand on his chin. “Like they were reset at two-seventeen.”

“
Same time the trackers went off,” Malcolm added. “Ever heard of a summoning that did that, Anya?”

She
shook her head. “Never. But lightning and other phenomena have been recorded before. Most summoning records are a lot older than electronics. It’s possible there could be a pulse.”

“
That’s my theory, too,” Allan said. “Those cameras were the closest. One and four were further away. Whatever scrambled the others got camera one a little, but overall it’s okay.” He changed the screen from the bird’s eye of the house to two black rectangular windows, side by side. “The one on the left is camera one. Right is camera four.”