Roaring Blood (Demon-Hearted Book 2) (11 page)

I had to stop myself from ogling her. This was the bitch who'd strapped me to a chair and tried to perform an exorcism on me. She and her buddy here had attempted to kill me; they were permanently on my shit-list. Didn't matter how pretty she was, or how cool her friend's bone-sword might've looked. I had half a mind to kill them right then and there. “I
work
here, you jackass,” I shot back. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't stomp your ass to death right here and now!”

Joe put a hand on my shoulder and guided me away from the pair. The dude with the sword rubbed at his bearded cheek and grinned at me. It took all the restraint I had not to break his face. “Look, I get it. She turned you down and you're bitter about it. But that's no way to act towards our new team mates, Lucy,” said Joe.

I grabbed the collar of Joe's jacket and gave him a violent shake. “She didn't
turn me down
, you idiot. She tried to perform a goddamned exorcism on me. She tried to
kill
me. Get it? I'm not just pouting because I didn't get lucky, Joe, I'm angry because she's a conniving bitch, who--”

“Hey,” said Kanta, folding her arms. “I can hear you, you know.”

“Well, good! Because I've got a lot more to say about this, and--” Amundsen came up from behind me and cut me off before I could lay into her further.

“Lucian, we were worried about you,” he said, patting me on the arm. “I hope you didn't encounter any trouble on your way over tonight. We've already had our meeting, have laid out some plans, and thankfully you're just in time to take part. I see you've met Percival and Kanta here. They're experienced contractors who have done work for the Order in the past and I'm thrilled to have them onboard again. Percival here is an accomplished hunter, son of legendary werewolf hunter Malcolm Sterling. Kanta has trained for many years in India, learning the rites of exorcism, and--”

“Oh, I know all about her,” I said, shooting her a dirty look. “I'm stoked. Can't wait to start working with them. Boy, when we get out into the field, just the three of us, there's really no telling what might happen...”

Amundsen failed to pick up the hostility in my words and urged me to have a seat. “So, Lucian, this is how things are going to go.”

***

Amundsen became grave as he explained everything I'd missed. It was damned hard for me to listen to him with those two assholes in close proximity, but I crossed my legs and took in what he had to tell me. “Frankly,” he began, “this ranks among the most serious threats the Veiled Order has ever faced.”

The Veiled Order had been around since, well,
forever
. Hearing Amundsen describe the necromancer's plot in that way didn't exactly inspire confidence.

He sat down next to me and went on. “We've received more reports...
many
more reports of missing bodies. Every cemetery in the city is being emptied and the bodies are disappearing. Agamemnon's army is growing. Thankfully, the general population doesn't seem to know what's going on. Except for a few, they haven't caught on. We've pulled some strings, had the city's graveyards closed citing some problem with the groundwater beneath them. But that won't last. When enough of the townspeople witness the undead, or if the city becomes a literal war zone as we fear it might, then the cat will be out of the bag. The Veiled Order has always prized itself on secrecy, and has shielded mankind from the Beyond for ages. This time we may not be able to cover things up neatly. So, the plan is to stop this war before it really starts.”

“Sure, that makes sense. But how?” I gulped, recalling my most recent bout against the necromancer. Agamemnon was a force to be reckoned with. There wasn't anyone on the Order's roster who could handle him mano-a-mano. Sure as shit, those two asshole contractors wouldn't be able to take him on. It seemed to me that the only way to preemptively stop the war would have been to strike down Agamemnon
before
he somehow got ahold of that mythical weapon. Now that he had it in his possession, all bets were off.

“Agamemnon is building an army of the living dead. Being a skilled necromancer is bad enough, but he now possesses a relic that multiplies his power. With this in mind, the leaders of the Veiled Order have proposed that a strike team be assembled and that its members be assigned two distinct goals. First, the team must take the scythe from the necromancer. Second, they must destroy him. If the necromancer dies, then all of the zombies he has raised will die with him. The trouble is, killing Agamemnon will be virtually impossible so long as he possesses the Scythe of Thanatos.

“Our experts on necromancy assure us that the thrall can never wander far from their master; that is, the zombies, in general, will stay within several miles of Agamemnon. If we can find this growing army, figure out where they're centered, then we should be able to trace the necromancer's location as well. Even as we speak we have patrols going on throughout Detroit and its suburbs, looking for the zombie 'hive', as it were. They're also searching the warehouse district, the sewer systems; no stone will be left unturned. We intend to strike hard and fast, as there still remain many thousands of bodies within the city that could be resurrected. Any casualties, too, will be raised to join his ranks. Do you have any questions for me, Lucian?”

I chewed on my thumbnail. The plan made sense. We'd find out where the bulk of the zombies were hiding-- their nest, so to speak-- and then track down Agamemnon within a few miles so that we could launch a full-on strike against him. We'd take his weapon and then kill his ass so that his zombie army would crumble. Sure sounded easy in theory. In practice it was going to be a tall order, though.

“If we are unsuccessful,” added Amundsen, “Detroit will be only the first stop on Agamemnon's tour of ruin. The first domino. The whole planet could fall under his sway if we're unsuccessful. We have experts being flown in from around the globe, and we're hopeful that we'll be able to contain and smother this war before it spreads, but it's possible we got involved too late. Agamemnon set everything up while we had our backs turned, worked right under our noses all this time.”

“So how's this team going to work?” I asked. “Who's in charge?”

Amundsen chuckled. “Well, the four of you-- Joe, Kanta, Percival and yourself are to be in command. The strike team will be split into two parts. You and Joe will lead a team of commandos. Percival and Kanta will have men under their control as well. Both halves of the team are to report directly to Chief Kubo, who will be involved with his own investigations.”

“Oh, so it's a race, then? To see which team finds the zombie hideout first?” I leaned forward. “You know how this is gonna end, Mr. Amundsen. I'm gonna win.”

“W-well,” replied Amundsen nervously, “I'm not sure I'd think about it in those terms, exactly. You're all a team, after all. It isn't a competition, Lucian.” He stood up. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other questions. I have faith in you, and am hopeful that we can still turn the tide.”

With that, Amundsen walked away.

I got up and sauntered back into the corner, where Joe was still politely chatting up Kanta and Percy. He was trying too damn hard; if only Joe knew what they'd tried to do to me he'd hate them every bit as much as I did. Sure, we'd have to “work together” for this mission, but once we got out into the field I planned to get even. I put up with a lot of shit in this line of work, but I'm not going to let some new talent waltz in and take the credit on an important mission after they tried to murder me.

Kanta turned around, fixing me with a venomous glare. I sized her up, amused by the flicker of annoyance in her gaze. My eyes followed the contours of her tight sari and settled on her bust. Not to be a pig, but she had quite the rack on her.

Ah, screw it. Call me a pig if you want. I'd get on all-fours and oink just to have a go at those fun-bags.

She frowned while I stared at her chest. “You know, my eyes are up here,” she said.

“Oh, I know,” I replied, my gaze unwavering. “But I'm not interested in your eyes.”

Joe dragged me off before Kanta could slap me in the face for that one. “You need to cool it, man. Save the fighting and shit-talk for the necromancer, yeah?”

I leaned in. “Let me tell you something. You and I are going to be the ones who find that necromancer. At the end of the day, when the war is won and they're passing out the medals, it's going to be Lightnin' Lucy and Fire Joe on that stage, got that? We don't
need
those two, Joe. They're insufferable. And besides, they're
weak
. What good's a damned exorcist going to do against a necromancer, huh? She couldn't even purge the demon from
my
body.”

Joe shrugged. “Well, yeah. But you're a special case, seeing as how you've got a demon's heart in your body.”

“Whatever. My point still stands. We don't need those two. Fuck 'em. You and I? We're golden. We're going to win the day.” I buried my hands in my pockets and stood up straight as Kanta walked by.

“It's funny,” she said. “I've never met a demon that I couldn't exorcise.” She was talking to Percy loudly enough to be heard from a distance, probably trying to get a rise out of me. Then, glancing my way, she added, “When this job is over, I look forward to taking another stab at it.”

I had a million and one barbs to throw her way, but I held my tongue. Instead of bringing down the house, I stood against the wall and watched her walk out of the conference room with Percy in tow, dreaming of all the ways I was going to show her up.

Hell, who am I kidding? I was checking out her ass.

FIFTEEN

The Chief had managed some sleep by the looks of it, but he still appeared awfully haggard. He instructed Joe and I to stay at HQ. I guess he wanted us on constant standby for orders, since a call could come in at any moment. He was busy managing the patrols and consulting with various experts as they arrived.

The conference room was empty now, and Joe and I sagged in a pair of chairs once again, staring up at the ceiling and making small-talk. “I've fought that necromancer twice, Joe. You know what that means, don't you?” I turned to him. “It means I've got more experience than anyone else in this fight. It means I'm the only one who really knows what to expect.”

Joe snorted a laugh. “Dude, you got
beat up
by him twice. If anything, you're the only one who knows how bad it's going to hurt if he kicks our asses.”

I kicked my heels up onto the edge of the nearest table. “Nah, the second time was a draw. Sort of. Anyway, that's not important. I stand a better chance of taking that prick out than Kanta and her boyfriend. That sword he's got is, uh, pretty cool. I admit it. But the way he carries it around everywhere makes it seem like he's... I dunno,
compensating
for something?”

“Quit being so hot-headed, Lucy. This is a fight for our city, remember? There's a lot riding on this, so don't start running your mouth.” Joe opened and closed his Zippo rapidly. He reminded me of an old gunslinger testing each and every component of his six-shooter before a duel. “If that head of yours gets any bigger you could ruin us both, man. Like it or not, we're working as a team on this. When the job's over, do what you want, but for right now can't you just rein it in?”

“You don't know what you're talking about.” I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, irate. Look, I knew that my showing against Agamemnon hadn't been the greatest. I knew that I hadn't come through, and I was feeling pretty rotten about fucking things up. But to have Joe riding my ass about teamwork, and about how I needed to rely on those two clowns, just rubbed me the wrong way. I was in no mood to be reminded of past failures, to be lectured. When I finally replied, I probably did so with a little too much vitriol. “Easy for you to say; you
need
others to protect you, Joe. When the going gets tough, you've got to hide somewhere to throw your fireballs around. Me? I have to get deep into it, waist-deep in shit.”

“The hell's that supposed to mean?” asked Joe, slamming his lighter down on the table. “See, this is what I'm talking about. You're an ass sometimes, Lucy. Cut this shit out. If you were so damn tough you'd have killed the necromancer already. But you can't. Suck it up and give those other two a chance.”

“Quit ordering me around,” said I. “I don't seem to remember signing on the dotted line to work for you.”

“Boy, you're a lot more narcissistic than I gave you credit for.” Joe shook his head. “Didn't take long for this job to go to your head, huh? Think you're top dog now, that you're the whole show, just because you've got a demon inside of you? At the end of the day, this is just like any other job. You work with other people to get shit done, Lucy. Maybe someday you'll learn that.” He paused. “I guess your past jobs didn't really drive that home, eh? Preying on poor people with that collection agency probably inflated your ego, made you feel real important. The Veiled Order doesn't have room for lone wolves, though. Lone wolves get singled out. They end up our enemies, man. You aren't working for loan sharks anymore, so cut the shit.”

That set me off. Bringing up my old job as a debt collector was a mistake. It didn't make my reply any more forgivable, but I was fucking mad and I spoke up before I could help myself. I couldn't even pin this outburst on Gadreel, much as I would have liked to. “Yeah, well, at least I paid my debts when I had them. Unlike your mother.”

You're probably shaking your head, writing me off as an irredeemable asshole for that one, huh? Well, good on you. I guess you've never said anything stupid or hurtful when in the throes of anger?

If looks could kill, Joe would have murdered me right then. He stood up and kicked away his chair. “What did you just say to me?”

I knew better than to push things any further. The bridge to Friendship Town was burning nice and fast. The last thing I needed was to throw more tinder on the pile. “Fuck it. Leave me alone.”

Joe looked ready to deck me, but the phone in his pocket started to ring before he got the chance. “Yeah?” he answered, stepping away from the table. I could hear Kubo's voice on the other side. “They found something, huh?” Combing a hand through his hair, Joe hung up the phone and took a deep breath. He didn't even look back at me as he relayed the message. “We're leaving. Patrol found something in Swan Cove park.” Then he walked out.