Fierce Lessons (Ghosts & Demons Series Book 3) (18 page)

I would have fallen down and started screaming then, too, but there’s this handy thing called denial. I could not believe that my mother was dead. My father, the traitor to the Choir, was a highly placed and respected member of the Ra. Perhaps he would have stepped in to make sure Mama lived. With so many singers in the Choir and a small army of Magicals around, it seemed impossible that everyone could have been killed. Instead of mourning them, I focused my fury on Merlin. If everyone in the Keep was dead at the hands of a demon invasion, surely it was because Merlin decided not to wait for my return with the prisoner.

The old wizard had told me not to take too long. He’d said he’d waited long enough. He’d waited centuries so I thought a few days more wouldn’t make him snap. Maybe the last few days is precisely what pushed him over to becoming a full-blown traitor.
 

Psymon reached for his cell phone first but Malta shook her head. “Radio silence. No more communication unless it’s with the tower at Central Illinois Airport. We’re handing over Chronos.”

“Do we have to hand him over alive?” Manny asked.

“We should just open the door and drop him,” Austin suggested.

Wilmington wept. “I can’t believe I missed it. I was supposed to
protect
Victor. I missed my moment!”

“You protected us, Wil, and I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

I’ve always been afraid of speaking in public, but I was growing more confident with each slaying and carjacking. Even Spider looked to me with an expectant gaze from his place guarding Pandora’s box. They needed a leader now, not a crier. I vowed I would cry long and hard, but later.

“Okay, everybody, sit down and fasten your seat belts. We’ve got bigger things to worry about than the demon in the box. We’ve lost a lot of friends. We’ll hand Chronos over to the military and I’ll see about redeployment.”

They all looked teary but they followed orders. They sat and belted themselves in as our ears popped.

Before Malta disappeared back into the cockpit, I pulled her aside. I could tell she was close to tears but holding back. “You okay?”

“As okay as I can be,” she said. “Dad and I didn’t leave each other on the best terms.”

My cheeks burned with embarrassment and my hands went cold with fear. What if Mama had been killed while running through the Keep looking for me? I hadn’t wanted her to worry while I was away. Now I’d probably never know exactly how she died or how responsible I might be for her death.

“Did the message say anything about the city? Has the Ra spilled into Brooklyn yet?”

“The message didn’t say. I guess it’s like everything else, all on a need-to-know basis.” She thought a moment. “The demons must be establishing their beachhead. If they were on the streets of New York, I’d have heard it on the radio. I’ve been sitting next to the pilot the whole time and there’s no unusual back and forth between planes and towers. If they’d made their move beyond the Keep, the cross chatter would be continuous, right?”

“Like 9/11 times 9/11 to the hundredth power. Buckle up. If you hear anything else on the radio, tell me right away. Even if we’re in the middle of landing, tell me.”

“Roger that, sir.”

Malta managed to keep up appearances with her stoic mask. Psymon was a sobbing mess. I returned to my seat and held him as we landed.
 

Lesson 186: In our all-is-lost moments, nothing can make things better. We hold hands, embrace, stroke foreheads and say soothing words. It doesn’t help in any measurable way but there are no other options so that’s what we do.
 

I fear death. Heaven? Hell? Who knows what’s next? The next dimension after death might be all red high heels, chocolate ice cream and dog fights. Elsewhere is unknown, so of course we all fear it. My only consolation, if you can call it a consolation, is that I won’t be the first nor the last to experience it.

In that moment, as Psymon cried on my shoulder for the lost Fawn, I found one more iota of solace. I was more determined than ever to take a bunch of my enemies with me down into that mystery. I’d make them know every dimension of Fear.

I’d make them scream.

I’d make them mourn.

I’d make them pay.

27

I
t was dawn when we landed just outside of Bloomington. Other aircraft stood still as we taxied toward a huge hangar. Victor might be dead but we still got priority treatment. I guess all that influence and privilege was coming straight from the Pentagon all along. I slipped Excelsior on my back and stepped out into the cold air.

As I hit the top of the airstairs, the technician who ran the machine got out and ran back toward the Tower. He looked like he was under orders to run and not look, but he was just a civilian. If he’d looked up, he’d have seen my horns and probably freaked out.

That was my first clue something was wrong. With the Choir Invisible gone, this was a military operation now. Why weren’t we diverted to a secure military base instead of to a little airport busy with civilian air traffic?

A stiff Air Force lieutenant with a clipboard jogged toward me across the tarmac. I ran to meet him a hundred feet from the plane.

He looked at my horns but then, just like the others, pretended they weren’t there. “You must be Miss Iowa.”

“
Miss
Iowa? I seem to have forgotten my sash and bathing suit and my best shot at the pageant is Miss Congeniality. Just call me Iowa.”

“Iowa, then. I’m Lieutenant Casey. Have you got the package?”

“Where’s your security detail?” I asked.

He stuck a thumb in the direction of the hangar. “Twelve Marines and three Catholic priests, as per my orders, ma’am. The priests were dragged out of bed from churches in Bloomington and Normal, so they don’t really know why they’re here. When I explained to them what ‘containment’ meant, they started making
Exorcist
jokes. One of them told me the power of Christ compelled me to go find them a decent sandwich. I don’t think they’re taking this seriously yet.”

“The package is safe as long as it’s boxed up,” I said. “Your Marines know the drill?”

“Nobody opens the box, ma’am.”

“And where are you delivering it?”

“That’s above my pay grade, ma’am. If I had to guess, rumint says they put the weird, secret squirrel stuff in Area 51.”

“Rumint?”

“Rumor plus intelligence, ma’am.”

“Fine. Are you in charge, Lieutenant Casey?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then this’ll be awkward. I need to see your Marines.”

“I was told to be discreet, ma’am. The Marines and the priests are there, so I was thinking it would be best if you and maybe a couple of your team could bring the box to the hangar, ma’am. We have an armored truck for the package and several escort vehicles. My orders are to take the package to Hanna Air Force Station for pickup to places unknown and none of my business, ma’am.”
 

Lesson 187: I’ve noticed that the more often someone uses the words,
ma’am, sir,
or,
my friend,
the more ironic and insincere they sound.

I took a deep breath. “Okay.” Then I brushed past him and steamed toward the hangar.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Casey?”

“This isn’t part of the plan.” He trotted at my heels.

“It’s not part of your plan. That’s why I like it.”

“Ma’am? My superiors are in a hurry and this procedure was established as the safest — ”

“Safest for whom?”

“Ma’am?”

“Lieutenant, I’m following my own procedure. If I took what you said at face value, I’d have learned nothing from the last few hours. It seems I have a history of trusting the wrong people and, since a lot of my friends, sisters, brothers and maybe even my mother are dead, I’m in no mood to be polite and just go along to get along. I’ve done too much of that already. Do not mess with me.”

It was a long speech. I was proud of it. I didn’t stutter and it got me to the little door beside the huge hangar door.

Here’s a hint about fighting that I learned from Mr. Chang and was refining with Psymon’s help: if you read body language, you can appear to have ungodly fast reflexes. Being half-demon and all, I guess I
do
have ungodly reflexes (pardon the pun). However, anybody can appear to be scary fast if they pay attention to the grit of teeth, the jutting jaw and the tightening of a body as they are about to make their move.

Casey braced his legs a little and took a second to look furious before he pulled his pistol from his holster. I broke his wrist before he got the weapon all the way out. The radius and ulna snapped easily. He went to his knees as his nine millimeter pistol dropped to the cement.

I glowered at him, wishing I had fangs for ripping and tearing. “Told you I was in a bad mood.”

“You can’t do this!”

“I just did this. If I open that door and find I’m out of line, I’ll send you a sympathy card and tell you I’m sorry and I’ll really mean it. I’ll sign your cast and send you bon bons. But I’m not going to have to go find a greeting card store, am I, Casey?”

“How did you know, bitch?”

“Body language. Deduction. And you just confirmed my suspicions. The message was a lie. The Keep has not fallen has it?”
 

“Not yet.” Casey held his broken wrist with his good hand. “It doesn’t matter.” He took a deep breath to scream a warning to whoever waited for me on the other side of that door.

I wasn’t sure he was human until that moment. His might have been a case of demon possession or maybe the Ra paid him off somehow, promising to eat him last. Like vampires, the demons have found familiars among humans, making some sort of bargain and turning ordinary people into traitors to the human race. I’d seen that before but it was equally shocking every time.

As he took that deep breath in to scream, I had a moment to reflect that my time passed slower than his, even without two powerful and flatulent vegans displacing time for me. I had time to punch and kick.

I delivered the punch above his right nipple and that stopped his intake of breath. The front kick into his diaphragm stopped him from trying again. The kick lifted him off the ground. It’s a good bet his spleen burst open, as well.

Casey’s eyes went wide and wild. He didn’t know what was happening for a moment. He had that thousand yard stare that says,
the world has turned upside down, but maybe I’ll figure it out later.
Maybe Lt. Casey figured out the depth of his trouble as his body smashed through the door.

I looked into the darkness beyond. Casey was on the floor, one arm and one leg bent at odd, unhealthy angles. He was unconscious so he was missing out on a lot of pain. That was a shame but the pain would wait for him at the surface of consciousness.

There were three more bodies on the floor. Two cadavers wore white coveralls and bright orange vests. The third guy was a man in a suit. They lay in a pool of blood. They were half eaten.

Beyond the bodies, six red demons stood, glaring at me with wide yellow eyes.

I looked at them and nodded. “C’mon, then. Like Mama says, ‘The day’s a-wastin’.’”

I drew Excelsior from her sheath. That was the first time I thought of my weapon as a she, but my sword is badass, so why the hell not?

28

L
esson 188: Don’t fight in an enclosed space where you can be surrounded. It was suicide for me to walk into the hangar and take on six demons. It was tempting, but fortunately, before I could make that mortal mistake, they rushed at me.

A red demon is a big thing. A door made for a human is, by comparison, a small thing. The first demon ran into my Excelsior and the length of the blade was enough to take out the throat of the demon crowding behind him.

One strike and a savage push. Two down. Four to go.

Elation shot through me. It wouldn’t last, but that little braingasm put some strength in my spine for the ordeal to come.

The next demon was more canny and led with his weapon. I leaped to the side and, since my first boyfriend was a fan of John Woo Hong Kong action flicks, I spun in the air and swept my blade down as I landed. Excelsior took both of the demon’s claws and his sword in one stroke. Black blood showered the ground as he raised his head to let out a long, keening wail. That opened his throat as my next target.

Three down. Three to go.

I was fortunate. The next in line stumbled over the demon I’d just separated from his parts. My first strike took him at the knee and the next decapitated my enemy.

I suck at bows and arrows. Swords are my jam.

Two left, but the next one shot out of the door as I was still recovering from the beheading stroke. He unfurled a leathery wing and knocked me to the side. I managed to hold on to my sword but he was on top of me in a second. I smelled his fetid breath, still roiling with the stench of human entrails.

The last demon loomed over us, a trident in hand. I’d seen what tridents can do to people when they first attacked the Keep. Demons are alien creatures but smiles are universal. Even when they are hideous and gore is still packed between the teeth, a smile is still a smile.

I squirmed harder but couldn’t budge the one on top of me. The demon used his sword to bring all his weight to bear on my weapon. He pinned me fast with the blades trapped between us.

The one with the trident laughed as he raised his weapon. A burst of energy surged through me as I pushed up with my blade and got both feet under the big demon’s hips. I lifted him a little but it wasn’t quite enough to get him off me.

I watched the tip of the trident vibrate as the demon prepared for the thrust that would take my eyes. Then I watched a blessed bullet emerge from the forehead of the trident wielder.

Maybe it was adrenaline plus demon reflexes and enhanced perception, but I swear I could see the twist of the round as it tore through the demon’s brain, small hole in back, big friggin’ chasm where it exited.

It may not have been demon reflexes, though. I have since spoken to soldiers who swore that, in their first firefight, they could see the bullets whine past. One even said he not only saw each bullet, but he saw them coming at him in the dark.