7. The hybrid.
7
The hybrid.
“As we’ve established in previous chapters, demons have been known to come to our world since the dawn of humanity. The first mention of a hybrid was on the walls of a cave in France, dating back to eighteen thousand years ago. These early homo sapiens drew a man with great horns. For a century, historians theorized that the man in question wore the horns of one of its prey as a show of strength and to infuse fear in enemy tribes. Now, historians widely accept the hypothesis that the man was a demon hybrid, since none of the animals hunted in that region had such horns […]”
-Extract from the State Exorcist’s Manual , edition of 2047.
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA, 2052
The hybrid points a dark claw at me. “And who might you be?” he asks.
I grind my teeth just as a fresh wave of sexual energy washes over me. He’s even more powerful than the succubus I met a few years ago in New Orleans.
“St—stop,” Sabrina gasps from her kneeling position.
The demon laughs. The other woman, the one he fucked into oblivion, twitches and moans on the bed. I bet she paid good money for the experience.
Sabrina struggles to say a few words. I recognize Aramaic, and I know the lines. The hybrid’s tattoos flare and he hisses through his fangs. The sexual tension lessens.
So, this is how they control him. They’ve marked his flesh like a ritual ground. The tattoos aren’t to contain him; they’re to send him back to Hell.
“You can’t…use it on me,” Sabrina gasps, coming to her feet. She gets a hold of my arm to rise. Her hands are shaking and she almost strokes her face on my shoulder on her way up. Even in this place of debauchery, I can smell her arousal. The friction is almost welcomed.
The demon laughs again. “You’re the one who walked in on me… working , human.”
Sabrina looks feverish as she tries to steer me away from the cage.
“I want him,” I say to her, gesturing toward the incubus.
Sabrina hesitates. “Mr. Shaw… You can’t exorcise this one. He’s a hybrid. The host is long gone.”
This time, I offer her a condescending look. “Thank you. I know. I’m here for pleasure only,” I lie.
She looks uncomfortable. “He’s really expensive.”
“I can pay.”
“And you’ll need to leave all your belongings at the desk,” she adds.
She has seen the kind of relics and weapons I use during my exorcisms on the day when her demon ripped her eye out
“Very well,” I say. “I understand.”
As I turn my back to follow her, the demon says, “Hurry back to me, White Exorcist. I’ll give you the best time of your life.”
When our eyes meet, his golden ones twinkle with mischief, as if he’s in on a joke that I ignore.
As I make the hefty payment for an hour with the incubus, a few demonic traders enter the brothel looking for me. Once they’ve been assured that I’m a customer and I’ve gotten rid of all my weapons, they let me back inside, all the while sharing knowing looks.
Before opening the cage, Sabrina gives me a few words to control the demon if things get out of hand. She doesn’t seem confident that the two of us will survive the encounter.
The woman he had been fucking earlier has been taken away.
“Have fun, Mr. Shaw,” Sabrina says, sounding unsure. Then she locks the door behind me and leaves.
The sexual energy has lessened considerably, but there’s still an evident buzz in the air. It prickles my skin and fills my lungs with the sweet taste of depravity.
The hybrid has put on some kind of loincloth with pearls dangling along the hips. He’s still bare-chested, lounging on the wide red velvet couch at the end of the cage. His horns reach above his head, touching the drapes along the iron bars, and his legs are open wide. The loincloth does nothing to hide the impressive bulge of his cock, even when soft.
The two leathery wings are spread on the back of the couch. There is a chain—titanium—around his neck that falls over his chest before encircling his torso and stomach.
My eyes roam over the white tattoos on his dark skin. They’re intricate and incredibly detailed. A tattoo artist has put a lot of work to turn his flesh into a threat.
“I didn’t know someone like me could tempt someone like you, exorcist,” the incubus says in his deep voice.
I look up from the tattoos to meet his golden eyes.
“You don’t,” I say.
His smile widens. “Really?” A new wave of sexual energy crashes over me. I lock my muscles so as not to show any reaction.
He hums. “Interesting. You’re stronger than most at resisting me. How do you do it?” he asks.
“I’ve been dealing with your kind for a while,” I say.
“My kind? Incubi? There aren’t a lot of us on this side.”
“Demons,” I correct.
He shakes his head slowly. “Ah. But do not confuse me with the other riffraff from Hell, White Exorcist.”
“And yet, you know who I am, like the other riffraff.”
His smile stays on. “They did warn me about you on the other side before I came to Los Angeles. You’ve sent enough of us back to build a reputation, ashy one.”
“So, it’s us now?” I say.
His eyes darken. “You have a strange coloring for a human, exorcist. A genetic abnormality, perhaps?”
I sigh and sit on the chair in front of him, at a safe distance. I try not to think about how many people have been fucked on it.
“We’re not here to talk about me,” I say.
He sits up and places his elbows on his knees, studying me. “Ah, yes. How can I serve you today?” The air thickens as he uses his dark powers again. “Are you the submissive type in the bedroom? Do you want to be fucked hard and fast? To be hurt? I can be loving, too, if that’s what your broken soul craves. And if you’re the dominant type, I can let you do many things to me. The possibilities are… endless.”
My skin crawls with unwanted desires. I swallow my urges painfully. This demon is a menace.
“I’m not here for your particular set of skills,” I say. “I want to know where the gate is.”
His wicked smile stretches wider. “Ah. I had a feeling this is why you came here, ashy one. You’ve been looking for it for a long time, haven’t you?”
My heartbeat quickens. “You know where it is. Tell me.”
The incubus sits back, shaking his head. “You’re not the only one looking for it, exorcist. The entire armies of Hell are looking, too. And so does their ruler.”
“Their ruler. Not yours?” I ask.
His smile drops a little. “I have no master.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. “And yet, here you are, in a cage.”
The hybrid makes a sudden move, sitting up. I don’t flinch.
“The demonic traders are my jailers, not my masters,” he says. “I don’t kill them because this prison suits me well enough for now. But I would choose death if it didn’t, and take them all with me.”
“If you tell me where the gate is, I’ll free you from this world and send you back to where you came from.”
The incubus shakes his head languidly. “Oh, but I don’t want to go back, exorcist. I like your world, and I like this body.”
“Then what do you want? What is your price?”
I know better than to bargain with a demon, but I’ve been running in circles for years. I haven’t gotten any closer to finding the gate of Hell.
The hybrid relaxes back on the couch. “Get me out of here and I’ll help you find the gate.”
I sigh. “No. Pick something else.”
I’m not unleashing a creature like him on the world. We have enough demons on a rampage as it is.
“That’s my price,” he says. “Free me and I’ll find the gate and even help you to close it, ashy one.”
I let out a humorless laugh. The armies of Hell want nothing more than to find the gate and break their way through to our world with fangs and claws.
“And why would you do that?” I ask.
I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with this hybrid.
He slides a hand through his dark hair. The muscles along his arm and chest flex slightly. Desire coils in my lower belly. He’s still using his ability and the air is charged with sexual tension, but I’ve been learning how to control my urges and frustrations since I was a child, and I manage to keep a straight face.
“I don’t care about the gate,” he says, shrugging. “And I would prefer if this world remained my personal playground without my brethren trampling its beauty. But there’s someone I need to find, and their disappearance is related to your precious gate of Hell. I’ll help you, exorcist, if you get me out of here. I’ll be your personal hellhound—except much better looking.” He smiles.
I lower my eyes to the tattoos along his ribs. Egyptian ritual markings, among others. I recite the few words Sabrina taught me earlier. His smile drops instantly as his muscles ripple. His claws dig into the cushion, and his golden eyes flash in anger.
This body might be his now, but his soul—or spirit—is still tethered to Hell. And the symbols open a circuit back to his world.
“We’ll have a deal if you tell me why you don’t want to go back to Hell,” I say.
The demon chuckles, eyeing me. He trails his claws along his tattoos. The lines cannot be broken by him; the magic forbids it.
“I can’t go back to Hell because it would mean instant death,” he says. “I’ve made many enemies on the other side, and they found my original body and destroyed it. This shell is now all I have, as flawed as it is.” He caresses his abs.
I watch him for a moment longer, thinking. He waits patiently for my answer. The sexual energy emitting from him makes it difficult to focus.
I get to my feet. “I’ll see what I can do.”
But before I can reach the door of the cage and ask to be freed, the hybrid has stood up faster and more quietly than a creature his size should be able to. He towers behind me, his body emitting tantalizing heat. I barely manage to contain the urge to get away from him.
He breathes deeply, taking in my scent.
“Why do you smell so… familiar, White Exorcist?” he purrs.
“Because I’ve sent hundreds of your kin back to Hell,” I lie. “Their miasma clings to my skin.”
He hums. “You do smell like home.”
Then he takes a step back and whistles. Sabrina appears at the end of the hallway. She seems surprised to find the both of us alive and still wearing clothes. The hybrid goes back to his couch before she opens the cage.
Before I can walk away, he says, “Name’s Azeroth, by the way. What should I call you?”
I hesitate. Giving your name to a demon is rarely a good idea. It gives them easier access to your soul. But my soul was taken by a demon a long time ago, and I doubt there is enough left to tempt another one.
“I’m Jon,” I simply say.
“Well, Jon. Free me, and we have a deal. I swear it on my soul.”
“Yours or the one you devoured?” I ask.
He laughs as I walk away.
A few hours later, the boss of the Hellraisers has agreed to meet me. I’m taken to a private part of a tunnel, and to a shaft that leads to the surface, directly into a secret location for the meeting. I’m not allowed to see any other room than the one the gang members led me to.
The Hellraisers’ leader is a mature black woman with a surprisingly kind face for a master of the demonic trade. A disguise, no doubt, to hide her ruthless nature. They didn’t give me any other name to call her but the Matriarch .
“White Exorcist,” she says as I’m welcomed inside her secret office. “I’ve heard you wanted to conclude some kind of transaction with us.”
I’ve piqued her interest. I’m certain I’m not the first exorcist they trade with.
“I do,” I say, taking a seat in front of her.
Her men are at my back. The three of them have tattoos to attest to their possessions. They kept my weapons and relics.
She smiles. “Well then, what’s your offer and why couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”
I had to force their hands to get a meeting. I’m not one to waste time.
“I want to buy your hybrid,” I say, my fingers tapping on the armrests of the fancy chair.
The Matriarch’s brow goes up for a second. “You can buy his time as often as you wish, Mr. Shaw. In fact, you just did. With the right price, you can enjoy his special talents daily.”
“I don’t want to buy his time. I want to buy his freedom from your brothel. He’ll come with me and never return to your service.”
She bursts out laughing. “He’s not for sale. It took a lot of work and sacrifices to get him caged. And now he’s a valuable asset to our business. I doubt there’s anything you can give me that’ll be enough, Mr. Shaw.”
She keeps repeating my name, a warning and a threat.
I have some money to spare, thanks to my father’s inheritance and my work, but I doubt it will seduce them into relinquishing the hybrid.
“I have a dozen demons on ice that I could trade for the hybrid,” I say.
It pains me to let them out into the world again, but it’s worth it if it leads me to the gate. The demonic traders will always fuel the world with new demons, with or without my help. At least the ones in Eames vessels are easier to contain.
She smiles again. “I would be delighted to trade them with you, but not for the hybrid. He’s worth more than all the demons you can provide.”
I sigh and look her straight in the eyes. “I’ll get him, one way or another. So it would be more profitable for you if you just accepted my offer and we called it a day. We both have matters to attend to.”
The Matriarch laughs loudly. “Threats under my roof, exorcist, really?”
She nods, and one of the men behind me moves. He’s fast, thanks to the demon residing alongside his soul, but not as fast as me. I get down to the floor just as he tries to get me into a chokehold. I jump to my feet and punch him in the gut with enough force to send him backward into the other two. It would be a miracle if I didn’t burst an organ or two. If he’s lucky, his demon will heal him fast enough to keep him from dying.
The second man pulls his gun out. I get a hold of him faster than he can blink, and I shoot him in the chest. Blood spatters on the third gang member. He tries to open the door to rush out, but I stop him with a bullet in the lower back. That should keep him down until the end of the meeting.
I point the barrel toward their leader. She was too slow to reach for the gun under her desk. It doesn’t seem like she has a demon of her own. She’s smart enough not to partake in her trade.
She raises her hands in surrender. “You’re as good as the rumors say. These three had class-four demons.”
I smile. “You have no idea.”
I offer her a glimpse of my true nature—of the mutations that hide underneath my skin. She gasps and I know that she has noticed the glow in my eyes.
“You have one of your own…” she says. She laughs nervously. “A little hypocritical for an exorcist, isn’t it?”
My demon is long gone, but she doesn’t need to know that. He still left me with superhuman abilities.
“Do you think I care?” I say.
She nods. “The end justifies the means. A class-two?” she asks. “You destroyed my men in a heartbeat…” she stops, seeing my expression, and pales.
“The hybrid,” I say. I have no time for her antics. “I’ll give you half a million for him and all the demons I have on ice. A dozen of them. We’ll make the deal and never cross paths again, understood? Otherwise, I’ll come for you when you least expect it. Trust me, you don’t want an open war with me.”
She chuckles. “I believe you. Take him, and let’s be done with it. He’s more trouble than he’s worth, anyway. He has killed a few clients already.”
She looks like she just swallowed a bitter pill. But she still swallowed it.
I gather my things and follow her back to the Deep Market. Her gang members watch us with quizzical looks as we reach the brothel. Before going to the cage, Sabrina fetches a small notebook for us. The Matriarch offers it to me.
“The incantations to control him,” she says, unhappy about it. “But I think you already know how they work.”
“I do.”
As I reach the cage, Azeroth is already waiting behind the bars. He has put some clothes on, a red tank top, dark pants, and sneakers. It looks so strange to see a horned demon in human clothes. His white tattoos peek above his collar and along his naked arms. The door swings open and he has to lower his head to avoid hitting the frame with his horns.
The men and women gathered behind me tense as the hybrid walks out, as if expecting an attack at any moment. But Azeroth simply keeps his hands in his pockets.
“He’s your problem now,” the Hellraisers’ boss tells me before leaving.
Azeroth’s smile turns predatory as his golden eyes fall on me. “Thank you, Jon. It’ll be a pleasure to work with you.”
Somehow, I doubt it.