My Angels Have Demons (Users #1) (7 page)

"Darnell, I have a confession to make," Carter said.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" Darnell asked. "You shit your pants or something?"

"No, I knew you'd turn me into the cartel," he said.

"What? Why would you come to me if you knew that I'd turn you into the car-" And before Darnell could finish his question, the brick wall on the far end of the building burst apart, sending bricks scattering across the floor.

Alaric landed within reaching distance of both Eric and Darnell.

"That's why," Carter said and Alaric punched Darnell in the face.

Pulverized powder that used to be Darnell's teeth showered Eric in a fine enamel dust. Alaric's fists were like two heavy anvils attached to jackhammers for arms. His body was the shape of a Greek gods and even Zeus himself would be hard pressed to go blow for blow with the titan that was Alaric. The giant man hit Darnell again, this time with a right hook that sent Darnell soaring through the air.

Eric spun on Alaric and opened wide to hit him with a wave of sound.

Alaric swung around, but it was too late, Eric had him dead to rights.

Out of nowhere a dart appeared in the side of Eric's throat, hitting him right in the windpipe, and cutting off his ability to scream.

"Take that you son of a bitch," Fox said.

From behind another pair of assassins in all black stormed forward on the seemingly unsuspecting trio, but they were far from unprepared.

Carter, with a ball of flame around his fist, turned and hit the assassin closest to him with a fiery uppercut that dropped the man. The assassin crumpled at Carter's feet, unconscious, but still alive.

The second assassin came up behind Fox, who was now up on her knees, and leveled his handgun to the back of her head to finish her off execution style. But before he could get his finger on the trigger, Fox was already spinning with her leg outstretched for a roundhouse sweep that took the assassins legs out from under him. He hit the ground flat on his back. Fox went into a roll, swinging her legs around his neck, and pinning his gun arm between her crotch. She grabbed his wrist with both hands and jerked the gun from his grip, squeezed her legs, and snapped his neck; killing him instantly.

Eric's eyes went wide with terror as Alaric stalked him like a lion ready to pounce on its prey. The screamer gripped his throat, trying to pull the dart from his esophagus, but Alaric removed it for him by punching the butt end of the dart and driving it clear into Eric's throat and out the opposite side. Blood gushed from both ends of his torn windpipe. Eric smothered the holes with his hands, but the crimson fluid found its way through the cracks in his fingers, spilling onto the floor. Dropping to his knees, Eric shuddered once, fell face first to the floor, shuddered a second time and then died.

Alaric turned, and Carter thought he would be the next to die, but he kept on turning and stopped at Fox.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Alaric asked.

His tone was full of venom, and he practically spat the words at her. The smoke in the room was beginning to clear, but even before the noxious gas dissipated it seemed to have no effect on the hardy man. He was one tough son of a bitch, and Carter prayed he would keep his outrage pointed at Fox. He knew that was cowardly of him, but he also knew that Fox was in no real danger. She was probably the one person in the world that Alaric would never truly hurt.

"I...I don't...," she stammered unable to find the words.

Turning her gaze on Carter, she shot him those big doe eyes that he had stared into so many times in the past, and his stomach sank. Was she intentionally trying to get him killed. Either way it seemed to be working, because Alaric caught the glance and turned on him.

Next thing Carter knew, he was free of the floor beneath him, as Alaric lifted him up by the throat with one hand.

"And you!" Alaric growled. "If you have dragged us into your fight, I swear I will hunt you down and I will kill you!" Carter tried to pry Alaric's grip from his throat to no avail.

"I'm dead anyway," Carter said through his choked windpipe.

It felt as if his Adam's apple were going to be pushed straight out the back of his neck. With her hands on her hips, Fox turned in a huff and walked for the door. Alaric finally dropped Carter to the floor. He gasped, sucking in a breath of the partly gas filled air, but he didn't care, he needed whatever precious oxygen he could get.

"If the cartels sent Eric after me then every two bit killer in the city is going to be looking for me," Carter said, still down on his hands and knees; unable to get up from the choking he had taken.

"Fox wait," Carter called to her before she reached the exit.

But instead of turning to Carter, she turned around and threw Alaric a pleading look, and Alaric sighed.

"Ugh, Fine," Alaric said, "Listen Carter, I will do what I can to find the leader of this cartel, but you've got to lay low."

Slowly, Carter got to his feet. The blood rushed to his head, and he had to lean against a column to keep from toppling over.

"And where am I supposed to go?" Carter asked, "The only friend I had to turn to just tried to get me killed."

"Don't push your luck here man. I'm not offering you a place to stay. Why don't you just get out of town for awhile? Let things blow over."

"I'm not leaving," Carter said defiantly. No way in hell was he going to leave because Alaric told him to. "What if you need my help?"

"Need...your help? We're not reliving the glory days here man. The time for a team up has passed," Alaric said, "you blew that a long time ago."

"Whatever, dude." Was all Carter could muster in his defense.

He couldn't rationalize his behavior in the past to himself, so how would he convince someone else that his monstrous behavior was anything but just that. The past continued to haunt him, and he couldn't argue that he had not been a total animal during his days as a junkie.

"What are you going to do with your friend here?" Alaric pointed to the unconscious Darnell.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it," Carter said.

Alaric raised an eyebrow at that.

"What? I'm not going to kill him or anything."

"See to it that you don't," Alaric said and he turned for Fox and the door.

It was maddening to see Alaric and Fox exit the room walking side by side. His blood boiled. He needed his medication.

#

Chapter 6

Outside the Seattle Police Department; an officer exited the building. A puzzled look came over his pudgy face when he noticed the man at the bottom of the steps, tied up and unconscious. He quickly descended the short flight of stairs, and tore the note pinned to the man's shirt, lifting it close to his face to read it in the dim light. Carter had written a message with all the details as to where the bodies in the warehouse could be found, and that Darnell was an accomplice, along with Eric in the deaths of the men in the black jumpsuits. He left out the little detail that he, Fox, and Alaric had played any part in the killings.

He doubted the police would buy it, but then again, he didn't really care if they did. Eric was a known degenerate with a record a mile long. No one, especially the police, would believe a word that came out of his filthy mouth.

With Eric secure in the hands of the authorities, Carter made a dash for the last place anyone would expect to find him. Other than having the brim of his newly acquired cap pulled low, he strolled through the front door like he owned the place, hoping that no one would notice him. He climbed the stairs uneventfully, ducked under the police tape that clearly labeled the residence as a crime scene, and opened the door.

The inside of his apartment was a catastrophe. His meager belongings were strewn across the floor, the TV was face down with a long crack running through it, a shelf that had held a stack of books was blown to bits, and almost every wall was riddled with bullet holes. He sighed, and picked up a book by the spine that looked intact only to have the pages fall out onto the floor. Fuck it. With no TV and no book to read, he marched straight into the bedroom, grabbed a blanket covered in drywall dust, and pulled it off the mattress like a magician pulled the cloth off a table leaving all the silver wear and dishes in tact. Ignoring the bitter cold and noise that came in from the broken window, Carter flopped onto the sweat stained mattress and fell fast asleep.

*****

He slept like shit. The cold stung his face and his nose wouldn't stop running. Every drop of rain that hit the street outside his broken window echoed through his ears with no barrier to deaden the sound. It was one of the worst nights of his life. Almost as bad as the numerous nights he had spent in withdrawal from the drugs years before. Almost. Nothing could compare to the viral like symptoms that accompanied the withdrawal of heroin. It was like having the flu, a cold, your head hit with a hammer, and every bone in your body broken at the same time.

What he suffered from now, was more of a mental detox. His girlfriend left him, his home was in shambles, everyone was trying to kill him, and to top it all off, he had to watch as Fox cuddled up with that bastard Alaric. A slight jostle roused him from the foot of his bed. Carter shot up to a sitting position as fast as a lightning strike when he realized that someone else was on the bed with him.

"Alaric?" He asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Alaric stared at the floor, dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, one of the few times Carter had ever seen him out of uniform. Seeming distracted, Alaric only lifted his eyes to face Carter when he heard his name.

"What are you doing here?" Carter asked.

"I've found the leader of the cartel...but there is nothing I can do for you," Alaric said.

"What do you mean? Why not?" Carter asked.

"I cannot help you," Alaric said. "The leader of the cartel...he's a Vampire." Carter laughed out loud, but Alaric just started back at him as if he were crazy.

"A vampire? What is his henchmen a werewolf?" Carter asked.

"Not that kind of vampire you fool," Alaric said, "He's a powered human just like you or I, but a new breed altogether."

"So what he can't come out in the daylight or some shit?"

"No you idiot, I already told you it's not that kind of vampire," Alaric said. The giant man stiffened, rung his hands together, and cringed. "Vampire is only a nickname, like a Scorcher is for you, or a Screamer is for Eric."

"Why do they call him that?"

"Because he can suck your powers from you with a mere touch," Alaric said.

Carter's face twisted in question.

"Do you understand what I'm saying? Just by simply touching me, he could steal my super strength." Carter almost laughed aloud again, but thought better of it at the last second.

"But no one can beat you. You're Alaric, leader of the All Americans, the strongest man alive, the guy who gets the girl."

"I cannot beat him," Alaric said.

"You can't or you won't?" Carter asked in an accusatory tone.

"I won't okay, damn you!" Alaric said, "I won't!"

Carter thought Alaric may punch his head through the wall.

"But why?" he asked.

"Because I'm a coward! All right! A coward! If I lose my powers I've got nothing! Even a one percent chance of losing my powers to that monster is a risk I'm not willing to take!" Alaric sat at the foot of the bed with his head in his hands.

"Why are you telling me this?" Carter asked thoroughly confused.

Alaric reached from below the edge of he bed and produced a black duffel bag.

"I want you to take this," Alaric said tossing him the bag.

It landed in Carter's lap in a thud. Whatever is was it weighed a ton. Slowly, he undid the zipper to reveal stacks of bound hundred dollar bills.

"What the fuck man? There must be like fifty thousand dollars in here."

"A hundred thousand," Alaric said without skipping a beat.

"A hundred thousand dollars! Are you kidding me?"

"Nope."

"But why? For what?" Carter asked.

He tried to hold onto his senses. That much money was almost enough to make him go into shock.

"Whatever you want. Use it to start a new life," Alaric said. "Hell, go down to the Caribbean and spend your days lying on the beach for all I care."

"Oh I see, this is payoff money to get me to leave," Carter said his tone going from surprise to sour in an instant.

"It's not like that." Alaric's strong face went stern, but there was something else beneath that, something honest.

Carter didn't give a damn. He wasn't about to let this big monkey run him out of town.

"Really, because that's exactly what it looks like." Carter shoved the money back at Alaric.

"I've taken the liberty of securing you a first class plane ticket to anywhere in the world you want to go. If you don't want the money that's fine, but you have to go," Alaric said. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Fox. Don't make her watch you die again. Because this time, I don't think you're going to be so lucky. There's no second chances this time."

Carter winced at Alaric's reference to the time he had overdosed on heroin. He had stopped breathing, was for all intents and purposes dead, but was saved at the last second by an adrenaline shot to the heart.

Alaric threw the plane ticket on the floor before turning for the door.

"You fucker!" Carter leapt out of bed and jumped on Alaric's back. "You chicken shit, son of a bitch!"

With one arm wrapped around Alaric's throat, he used the other to punch the giant man in his sturdy jaw. Carter had no idea what the hell he was doing. He just knew he was mad and needed to take it out on someone.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alaric asked as he grabbed and loosened Carter's grip from his throat in one effortless movement.

"You can't buy me off you son of a bitch, and you can't make me leave. You just want me out of Fox's life!" Carter yelled in Alaric's ear.

Carter did another kind of yelling, in pain this time, as Alaric crushed Carter's fingers together, but Carter kicked Alaric in the back of the knee, knocking him to the floor.