Sailor Ray and the Dark Descent (The Pact Book 2) Page 7

  I remember back when Blaze and I were in New Orleans, not long after dealing a group of vamps. We’d had a rough couple of days and finally decided to take a night out on the town. At the bar where we were, a bunch of frat boys started catcalling and heckling me when I went to get our drinks. I ignored them until one of them called me a “nigger-lover” out of spite on the way back to our table. Of course, I didn’t stand for that shit. I got our drinks and splashed them in their fucking faces. Needless to say, things got pretty heated. I’m a hunter, but I’m still only one person. Taking six guys filled to the brim with liquid courage, without using lethal force, wasn’t the smartest idea, but I wasn’t exactly in the mood for backing down. I would have sent the bastards straight to Hell myself if it weren’t for Blaze defusing the situation. It was just the two of us against the six of them, and they didn’t do a thing. All it took was him subtlety flashing the barrel of his gun, and a few choice words by yours truly. To make matters worse, as they walked away, I grabbed Blaze by the collar of his shirt and started to make out with him while I flipped them off. Classy, I know, but they got off easy in my book. Those types of people are the worst. I’m out trying to make the world a better place, and they’re out spreading hate against each other while literal monsters are trying to wipe us out. F.Y.I. Monsters don’t give a flying fuck about the color of your skin. It’s a people thing, and it’ll be our downfall.

  Abby passes in front of me with curious eyes, tearing me away from my bitter-sweet memory. It’s probably for the better. “Nice tattoo,” she says as she sits beside me, but on top the log. Things are so much different now. A lot has changed since that night with Blaze. Even more so with the passing of my dad and everyone else who was with him that night.

  “Thanks. It’s new.” I slightly move my hand over the brand on my forearm, pushing past the slight pain that stems from my shoulder. The dancing flame illuminates the pattern on my arm. It hasn’t faded or shown any signs of deterioration, so it’s safe to assume that Alfonse is alive and kicking somewhere deep inside of me. Without even asking, Blaze made it clear that sigils are scattered around the property to weaken demons. It’s weaker out here, but it still isn’t doing me any favors. Apart from the pain pills, I don’t feel much different; just an empty hole gnawing away at the pit of my stomach. It’s almost like something is missing, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s faint, but it’s there, only allowing itself to be known whenever I give into the nagging sensation during my absent thoughts. I must look miserable.

  “So, what happened to you?” Blaze asks, killing the awkward silence we all shared. “Are you working with a team or anything? Should we set up a rendezvous? I’m sure they’re worried.”

  Blaze…he really knows how to break the ice.

  “No.” I lift my eyes from my marked forearm and stare into his from behind the flame. “That’s not necessary. I’m all alone. It’s just me, and it’s been like that since the raid four months ago.” Blaze leans in with an open posture. His gaze deepens and the light from the fire amplifies his brown eyes. “After I left—after we had our fight, I went after my dad, just like I said I would. It was him and a bunch of other hunters. Not just ones that were close to him, but from other parts of the country, I think. The tip that he received had something to do with a group connected with the ones who set up my mom’s death, so he went along for the raid. He wanted to interrogate a couple of them. Shutting down whatever satanic shit they had brewing was just an added bonus…but you already knew that.”

  “Yeah.” Blaze solemnly nods in agreement and adjusts his body. “So, what happened during the night of the raid?”

  “That night, my dad and everyone else who was there bit off more than they could chew. It was a grand summoning of some sort.”

  “A grand…summoning?”

  “Yeah, that’s the only way I can describe it. It was some sort of grand-scale summoning ritual. I’ve never seen anything like it. I showed up about twenty minutes after my dad, but when I got there, it looked like the aftermath of a massacre. Dead bodies everywhere—at least a dozen—before I even stepped through the door. I didn’t know at the time, but most of the havoc was done by something called a sweeper. It’s like an earthworm from Hell that can phase through walls and cloak itself. It has claws for hands and razor-sharp teeth with a funneled mouth. Strong, too. Apparently summoning one requires a ton of demonic energy, and there was about a handful bound to the ritual grounds. They ripped a bunch of hunters limb from limb. They didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t either.”

  “That sounds…horrible.”

  “It was. I went toe-to-toe with a couple of them. Sam, Logan, and Mitch—friends of my dad, helped me get through it all in one piece. I never met them until that night, but they protected me like I was one of their own.” I take a moment to study the burning fire between us and try my best not to relive watching their individual deaths. “They…put up a good fight…we…put up a good fight but, our injuries were starting to take their toll and we were trapped. It was almost like fending off a pack of wolves, except these were of the semi-permeable demonic variety. The altar in the basement we were trapped in was strong enough to sustain them, so it took more shots than necessary to even do anything worthwhile. They used that to their advantage and began to pick us off, hiding in the darkness while we tried our best to survive. Eventually, we were down to two. Mitch and myself versus the final sweeper. We tried to make a final go for the altar, but then it snuck up on him…and…” My eyes sink to the ground as I do battle with a pang of unexpected sorrow. “I tried to stop it, but it got me too,” I pick up, my voice beginning to stabilize. “But rather than kill me on the spot, it bit into me and slung me across the warehouse. I took a nasty fall and I was already hurt before. It probably thought I was dead. Taking that fall was somehow worth it though, because, of all things, when I came to, I realized I was next to my dad.”

  “Sailor…”

  “I guess you can see now why I was so reluctant to tell this, right?” I try to force a smile, but it backfires and becomes a weird laugh-cry that I quickly suppress. I take a swipe at the tear coming from my eye. “He was in bad shape, way worse than me, but the sweeper also wasn’t doing too hot, so we had a little time to come up with a plan while the sweeper recovered from us attacking it. Mitch shot it a couple times and I managed to stab it more times than I could count. They’re resilient like you wouldn’t believe. It was even already hurt before that. Those things are bad news.”

  “Yeah, they sound like it,” Blaze says from the other side of the fire, his face scrunched and mournful.

  “Anyway, my dad and I came up with a last-ditch-effort to go for the altar. I was supposed to destroy it while he watched my back. It was only a dozen or so feet away, but I was bleeding badly from my injuries. I was virtually useless, so even crawling that far was an act of God.” I sigh. “The sweeper started to make its way towards us once I got close to the ritual site. Dad died while fending it off. He bought me enough time to destroy the altar. Without an energy supply, the demon died from its wounds.” From above, I feel Abby rest her hand gently on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. It sucks that I have to lie. I feel guilty like you wouldn’t believe, but no matter how close I am to Blaze, I don’t think cohabitating with a demon is something he can just overlook. It’s better if he or anyone else doesn’t know. “I wanted to rest for a while,” I begin again, “you know, gather my strength and all, but then I realized that reinforcements were on the way. I made a run for it and eventually got to my car. To my knowledge, I’m the only survivor. If anyone else survived, they’d have to have managed to avoid the cleanup crew. They had assault rifles, and there was at least a half a dozen of them.”

  “Wow.”

  “Once I made it into the clear, I stitched myself up and laid low for a bit. It was a rough couple of days, being three-fourths dead and fending for myself without being conspicuous. I had some clothes ready in my car and enough cash for a che
ap room. It was hard to give a reasonable explanation for my condition. I had to go with the abusive boyfriend route. It’s sad that it worked.” I frown. “I didn’t know how expansive their network was, so I took myself off the grid. Demons can be anywhere, that’s a given, but for a group of witches or whatever to muster up enough demonic energy to summon sweepers without being detected takes crazy credentials. The reinforcements that came could have been anyone—they had masks, so I stuck to myself. I didn’t reach out to anyone because I didn’t know who to trust. Call me paranoid, but for them to be so far ahead of us, they had to have some kind of plant or something. I don’t know. How else could something as big as what I saw be so well hidden?”

  “So you faked your death?”

  “Yes,” I say with a hint of confidence. “No…well, not really. I just disappeared and everyone assumed the worst.” Do I really believe there is a plant? No. It can be a possibility, but with so many checks and balances within the community, it’s unlikely. I just said what I had to say to keep Blaze and anybody with questions off my back. The real reason I laid low was to do my hunting on my own. I couldn’t risk getting anyone else involved, not after losing so much, already.

  Looks like that plan failed miserably.

  “Can you blame them?”

  “I wouldn’t be human if I did.”

  “So when we found you, what was that all about?”

  “Ever since I got better, I’ve been working by myself, trying to figure out what exactly happened back there. I was at it alone for safety reasons, as backwards as that sounds, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag now. I am indeed alive and kicking.”

  “But alone, because you don’t know who to trust.”

  Geez, Blaze won’t let me catch a break at all.

  “Yes. I mean, I know I can trust you, you were close to us, but the hunter network runs deep. I didn’t want to take any chances. It was a massacre, Blaze. I hate to admit it, but it changed me in more ways than one.”

  “Sailor…”

  “Blaze, you don’t even have to say anything. I already know I’m a mess. If I seem relaxed, it’s just the pills talking. I was so terrified after everything happened. For the first few nights I didn’t know if someone was going to kill me in my sleep or if my wounds would take me out. I slept with a pistol in my hand because if one of those fuckers got a hold me, I’d end up just like everyone else. Eventually I realized they wouldn’t show…that I was freaking out, but then I started to have nightmares…still do more often than not.” I shake my head. “It’s really graphic shit—things I didn’t even know I was capable of imagining, and it’s always the same in the end. Everyone I care for dies, and I fail trying to save them. I didn’t want that. Hunting by myself…it gave me a way to keep everyone safe and try to make things right, you know? I wanted revenge, but I didn’t know who I could trust, and I didn’t want to lose anyone else. Does that make sense? Like, even a little?” I drop my eyes from Blaze’s gaze and shift them to the flame that separates us. “I never wanted to feel the pain of losing someone ever again, so I did what was necessary.”

  “So you became a ghost…yeah…I can relate,” he says after sighing, “maybe more than you know, but that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to do.” A moment passes between us with no more than the sound of crackling branches engulfed in fire.

  “Well, it felt right to me,” I respond, dismissing his careless remark. He’s clueless. Things were better without me around. “Anyway…the story is the same as what I told you back in the safe house. I’ve been following a string of cases involving Sphinx—a drug that makes humans more suitable for possession. The media has been playing it up to be bath salts 2.0, but anyone that knows anything about demon possession can see that it’s a conduit. From what I gathered, I think that somehow a dealer or a drug lord or somebody is connected to the murder of my mom, and by extension, linked to the raid that killed my dad and the others. A place in downtown Chicago, Club Hex, was rumored to be one of the major suppliers. I scoped the area out and gathered information from the locals before I did what any other hot-blooded investigator would do. I investigated. Things were going well until I accidently uncovered a part of their operation. It was a bartender who wasn’t a demon, but I have reason to believe he was being manipulated. Fun fact; all that shit with the illuminati is sorta true. The music had some kind of frequency under it that worked like a light mind control. It made you more open to suggestion.” I get a quick mental flashback to that night and how I was beginning to get way too boy-crazy for my liking. “And, uh, other things.” Blaze looks confused, but I spare him the details. “By pure chance, I almost got doped by that bartender I mentioned. His name is Ben, Benjamin Evans. I made a fuss about it and used it as an excuse to see the managers, but that didn’t go too well. The club was demon infested. They tried to off me in a back room of the club. Obviously, I managed, but I left a mess; bodies galore. I could tell that Ben wasn’t a demon, so I took a chance and showed up to Hex as an FBI agent once they yellow taped it. I figured he could tell me everything he knew about Sphinx. I think the demons caught onto that as well.”

  “Damn, you’ve been busy.”

  “Quite. So, I managed to get behind the tape with no problems. I found him being interrogated by a cop and I swooped in and had an interrogation of my own. I took him away from the scene of the crime to Vickie’s. I didn’t feel safe knowing that demons could be still be at the bar, so I took him somewhere rather private but at the same time out in the open so I wouldn’t raise suspicion. Ben didn’t know much, just that some other guy, Gareth, told him to give me a dose of Sphinx by special request.”

  “And you think this Gareth guy is connected, right?” Blaze asks.

  “Correct, but there is at least one more, a demon who I believe is a major player in the Sphinx-ring. I was on the verge of getting more information from him, but we got found out. Our waitress turned out to be possessed by a demon; a strong one. With Ben around I couldn’t fight like I wanted to. I was able to wound it and eventually force it out of its vessel, but I couldn’t kill it without killing the girl it had taken over as a hostage. It was a tricky situation considering that it all happened in broad daylight. By the time I got the demon out, reinforcements were already in the area. Ben called the cops. And by cops, I mean demons.”

  “Hmm.”

  “It didn’t take us long to get swarmed…I had a clueless witness and an injured waitress with me. I couldn’t really do much. When I realized our chances were slim, I left you that voicemail. Not long after that, we got captured. Well, Ben and I. They fucking shot the waitress, Morgan, at point-blank range right in front of me, and I couldn’t do a damn thing to save her.”

  “Morgan Law? Yeah, I heard about her. The news has been running a story on it. Demons spun it to make it look like a homicide-suicide. They made a back story and everything. False witnesses and all.” I shake my head, loathing my shortcomings from that day. “Last we heard, you had two survivors with you. We searched the place but only came out with you. After we flipped on the news, we put two and two together and…” He pauses, relinquishing his train of thought. “I’m sorry, Sailor.”

  I am too. I had my fair share of innocent causalities on behalf of the supernatural. It hardly gets any easier. You can hold back the tears or fix your face, but it still all hurts on the inside. There’s no remedy for that. Especially if some of the blame falls on you...especially, if the person in question reminds you of yourself.

  “The demon that tortured me revealed himself to be the same one from the coffee house. He was the same one that possessed Morgan... This time he was in the body of a man. He wanted answers— mainly who I was with and why I’d been trying to bust up their operation. That demon is definitely a key player, which is why I need to get to him in order to find out where Ben is. I know he’s still alive,” I stress. “On the way to the warehouse, I overheard them saying they could use him as leverage against me. And in a way, they still can. They
know that I’m clawing away at their operation, and they want me out of the picture as soon as possible. If they’re keeping Ben alive, it’s a valid reason to go after them, even if it’s a trap.”

  “Are you sure about this, Sailor?” Blaze presses.

  “Positive. It’s not my style to leave anyone behind, especially if they’re innocent. Plus, if I can get my hands on Gareth or the lead demon, it’ll bring me one step closer to the ones who screwed over my parents. My motives aside, it’s the right thing to do. We’re hunters remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Blaze answers soberly. “But just because we know how to fight doesn’t always mean that we’ll win. It’s dangerous.”

  “You wanted to know what I was up to, and now you know. I’m going to go looking for him no matter what. Now you can help me, or you can sit this one out and do whatever it is your new friends are working on.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense. You’re hurt an—”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I say, cutting him off. “I can handle myself. I’ll be okay once I get out in the field. I’ve been doing this sort of thing on my own for months now. I know how it is. I have no problem roughing it alone.”

  “And going at it alone is what almost got you killed,” Blaze growls. “Fine,” he says after pursing his lips. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Me too,” Abby voices from over my shoulder. She hasn’t really said much, but at least she supports me.