9. Burning skies.
9
Burning skies.
“Higher demons are said to possess incredible abilities and powers in Hell. These abilities rarely get transferred to their human hosts, except in rare occurrences in which the demon has devoured the soul and taken over completely. Only a fully mutated body can produce such power (see the case studies on hybrids, page 212).”
-Extract from the State Exorcist’s Manual , edition of 2047.
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA, 2052
As we cross the tunnel out of the Deep Market, gang members and customers alike give us a wide berth. The beast is out of its cage. Azeroth walks in front of me, unbothered, while I keep an eye on him. The ritual words hover on my tongue, ready to burst out if he makes the wrong move. But he doesn’t. He seems content to smile at everyone, his teeth too sharp to put anyone at ease.
Everything about him has mutated to excess. Even his skin is an unnatural color. And I’m not talking about the leathery wings on his back and the tail whipping around behind him.
“Getting you out of here will be a problem,” I say. “We’ll need to figure something out.”
The Garden shouldn’t be a concern. Most dancers wear devilish costumes. But the streets might be another matter entirely.
Azeroth’s golden eyes fall on me. “How so?”
“You’re not especially inconspicuous.”
He chuckles. “Let me remediate it.”
His dark energy fills the air once again, but it feels different this time. He becomes blurry around the edges, and a new vision overlaps his colossal figure. His skin turns a normal tan, and his horns disappear. His wings and tattoos, too.
“What did you do?” I ask, wary.
“My species specializes in manipulating energy and perception, as you’ve already noticed. I can glamour myself to cater to your human perception. Make myself less… Hellish.”
Less is a lacking word to describe a six-foot six-inch-tall man. Even without the wings and demonic mutations, he’s difficult to ignore.
I frown and the vision overlaps again. Just as before, I can resist his powers to a degree and see through the lies.
“It’ll do,” I say. “Keep it up.”
It won’t work for cameras, but I doubt anyone checking the footage will expect an actual hybrid to walk out of the nightclub and down the streets. Luckily for us, Hell and demons are trendy. Humans are eager to dress up as the very creatures threatening their survival.
We reach the secret passage leading to the Garden of Eden and I ring the bell. A minute later, the elevator makes its way down the dark room. The dancer’s seductive smile drops when she sees Azeroth. She’s no stranger to what goes down in the Deep Market.
“Oh, hell no,” she says, backing as far as possible in the gilded cage. “Is that—”
“We need to go up,” I say, cutting her off. “Please.”
She nods nervously and exits the elevator. “There’s not enough room for three…” she mumbles. “Go on, I’ll wait here… You can send it right back.”
Azeroth smiles. His sexual energy suddenly fills the air. “Oh, but I’m pretty sure we can fit—”
I push him from behind, and he steps forward.
“Hurry up,” I say. “Don’t make me send your ass back to Hell and to your rotting carcass.”
He turns a quizzical brow at me, growling. “Stronger than you look, aren’t you, ashy one?”
“You have no idea.”
He laughs and—surprisingly—obeys. I get in behind him, close the door, and push the button above our heads. I see glimpses of Azeroth’s wings touching the top of the elevator. The woman was right. It would have been difficult for the three of us to fit. We’re standing too close for comfort, face to face—I’m not turning my back on a demon—but I need to crane my neck to look him in the eyes.
“You don’t smell like fear like the others,” Azeroth says as the elevator slowly goes up. “Why is that, exorcist?”
His scent, a strange mix of smoke, perfume, and spice, invades my nostrils. The unmistakable smell of sex also clings to his skin.
“Should I fear you?” I ask. “I thought we had a deal.”
“We do. And yet, it would be so easy to snap your neck right now, and be done with it.”
I glare at him right as we enter the ceiling and darkness surrounds us. His golden eyes glow in the dark and heat radiates from his body. Demons’ blood runs hotter, and so do hybrids.
“You might find that I’m not so easy to get rid of,” I say.
A laugh rumbles from his chest. “I believe you.”
The ride down to the market at the beginning of the night was easier, even with the woman’s hands on me. She was less intense than Azeroth. I’m too aware of my body, and I don’t know where to put my limbs.
Light pours from above as the elevator reaches its destination, freeing me from my turmoil. When the door opens, both of us are unscathed. I guess our deal still holds.
As soon as we walk out, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “This place smells… enticing. Where are we?”
I ignore his question and exit the VIP lounge. Wade’s bodyguards eye us warily as we make our way to them. Their hands go reflexively to their weapons when Azeroth smiles.
“Can we use the back door?” I ask them.
I’d rather not unleash the incubus on an intoxicated crowd on his first day out of his cage.
The hybrid laughs. “All doors are good for me, human,” he says. “Whatever pleases you.”
I frown, pivoting. Then understanding dawns on me. He was making a dirty joke. I can’t help the incredulous look I level at him, and he laughs again.
The two bodyguards are too tense to care about our exchange. One nods stiffly before leading us to a darker hallway. We pass through a few heavy doors that require a key pass before exiting into a backstreet. Wade’s man leaves us in a hurry, certainly going to report to his master.
Azeroth tilts his head to the sky and closes his eyes once again. “How I missed the outside world,” he says.
We’re in a back alley filled with trash bags, vomit, and piss. The buildings tower high enough to obstruct most of the night sky. There is nothing much to see, anyway. The stars can’t be seen through the layer of dust that blankets Los Angeles.
And yet, I understand how this would feel for a creature that spent months being caged underground.
I squint to see through his illusion. His wings are twitching. I was right; the titanium chain stops him from spreading them and taking flight.
“Let’s go,” I say.
It’s four in the morning, and we mostly cross paths with drunk people coming out of nightclubs and drug dealers. Los Angeles never truly sleeps.
The demonic traders must be hard at work. But tonight, I already have a demon to contend with.
“Take left,” I say to Azeroth.
I hail a taxi as we reach the end of the street, where all the bars are. The night rides are expensive; it takes a courageous taxi driver to deal with the possessed of Los Angeles.
I open the door of the first car that reaches us. The driver’s eyes widen when he sees the hybrid behind me—even disguised as a human, he spells trouble. He shakes his head, as if to refuse us, but then I feel the wave of desire rise from deep in my belly. I turn and glare at Azeroth over my shoulder.
“Stop it,” I say.
He points a dark nail at the taxi. “I’m just making sure he can’t refuse us.”
The driver has already jumped out of his seat and is ushering us inside his cab. His eyes are feverishly roaming over Azeroth’s tall frame. I give the address to the AI on the screen in front of my seat, and we’re off.
I try not to think about the boners in the car—mine included. We both sit at the back, and I grind my teeth to stop feeling so much. The hybrid almost takes two seats for himself. His wing grazes my shoulder, sending shivers through my entire body. It’s surprising how easily they can be bent to fit in the car.
Azeroth only lessens his sexual energy once the taxi has dropped us off on South Broadway. I force the money into the driver’s clammy hands and urge him to leave. He looks a little confused.
As I’m about to get into my building, the hybrid stops following.
“What now?” I ask.
I much prefer hunting demons than babysitting them across town.
Azeroth points toward the end of the street. “I see a burger place. You’re going to feed me.”
“Am I, now?” I say, eyebrows raised.
He turns to me, his golden eyes smoldering. “Yes. Maintaining the illusion for so many humans at once makes me hungry. Unless you want to feed me another way? Sexual energy is my favorite kind of sustenance, after all, and the driver whetted my appetite.”
I glare at him and walk toward the burger joint. His deep laugh chases me down the street.
There are only three people in the joint at this hour—two employees, and one drunk customer eating greasy fries too slowly. They eye us suspiciously as we walk in. But one bright smile from Azeroth as he points to the pictures of food items on the menu, and they relax. He’s intense, to say the least, but he also knows how to deal with humans. Most demons I hunt are mindless beasts like the class five and four, or the unrelenting soldiers of Hell’s armies.
“How long have you been in our world?” I ask him once I finished paying for the food.
Mutations usually take a few weeks to a few months. Some happen as fast as a day or two. Mine took years, but I was the exception, as far as I know.
“This time?” he asks, sitting on a stool. It creaks under his weight. “I’ve been coming to your side long before this mess with the gate. You humans are fun to play with.”
The mess . As if the mysterious event that changed the fabric of human society, perhaps forever, is but a bothersome happenstance.
I rephrase my question. “How long did it take you to mutate this body?” I gesture at his wings and horns, only visible to me in glimpses.
“A year,” he says.
“And nobody realized you were no longer contained?”
He chuckles. “The tattoos they used were not enough to contain me. And I made a deal with my host. I promised him he would live the best year of his life before I devoured him. He preferred it over a quick death.”
I must admit, I feel no pity for the demonic trader. He rolled the dice and lost.
The cashier gestures to alert us that the food is ready. Azeroth has ordered enough burgers to feed a family of five. It feels surreal for a moment that I’m in a joint with a demon at four in the morning.
Just like old times.
An unwanted feeling surfaces: nostalgia. Like so many times before, I find myself missing the voice in my head. I loathe the rawness of my loneliness.
“Let’s go,” I say, walking away.
I’m not checking if the demon follows me this time. I’m almost hoping he might try to run. Sending him back to Hell would release some of my restless energy.
But Azeroth is right behind me all the way to my apartment, and we find ourselves facing each other in an elevator once again. The smell of burgers and fries chokes the small space.
I can feel his golden eyes on me.
“What?” I say coldly.
“How long have you had your demon, ashy one? Your mutations are…peculiar.”
I sigh. “I’m not possessed.”
Somehow, I always tell the truth, but no one ever believes me. I once had a bunch of State Exorcists cornering me during a job. They were flabbergasted when all the holy water they threw at me only managed to drench my hair. My connection to Hell has been severed since the day I devoured my demon. The water stings a little, at best.
Willa was one of the exorcists chasing me. We’ve stayed in touch ever since, and she calls me when a demon is too much for her to handle.
Azeroth smiles. “You can’t hide the smell of Hell from me, ashy one. It comes from your pores. Don’t worry, I’m not one to spoil your fun.” He leans closer. “And I won’t be the one to stop your demon either when you can’t contain them anymore.”
The door of the elevator opens, and he exits.
You’re too late for that , I almost say. He’s long gone .
And I hate the sadness that gets a hold of me at the thought.
It took Azeroth half an hour to devour the entirety of his fast-food order. The remains of his feast are scattered over my coffee table in the living room. He has spread his leathery wings over the back of my old couch and has dropped the illusion. He’s eyeing the frayed carpet on the floor, the old chair, and the peeling green wallpaper on the walls.
Azeroth smiled when he saw the runes etched in the door frame. He recognized the old enchantments.
Now he’s looking at the spiral staircase going up to the roof.
“I would like to see the sunrise, exorcist,” he says.
Darkness is receding outside as dawn nears.
“Why?” I ask simply, observing his reaction.
I must admit, he confuses me. He hasn’t shown the aggression demons usually display.
He turns his attention back to me. “It’s beautiful.”
My demon, too, found my world to be beautiful, as flawed as it is. It’s so different from Hell.
“Very well. I’ll take you to the roof, and in exchange, you can start talking. Deal?”
He smiles, standing up from the couch. “You humans are too eager to make deals with devils.”
How right he is about that.
I climb the stairs first and open the door to the roof. Azeroth follows me out a few seconds later. The sun is rising on the horizon, but the dusty sky hides it behind a haze. Everything is yellow and orange, as if humanity has turned Earth into Mars. He sits on one of the old chairs and just stares at the sunrise. I stand near the dying cacti in the planter—they’ve won some time after the last rainstorm.
“Is it so different from Hell?” I can’t help but ask.
The way he watches our dirty sunrise has me fascinated.
“Yes,” Azeroth says. “Our skies are always red. This is why your religions always pictured Hell to be an unforgiving land of fire and burning skies.”
Scientists and scholars have tracked every story, whisper, and rumor about Hell in the last twenty years. Humans have had visions of the other plane, too, even if we lack the skill to possess a host as they do.
Their world seems to be warmer. My demon once told me that’s the reason they are nocturnal creatures. The days are scorching.
“The colors of your world are breathtaking,” Azeroth continues.
My demon used to say the same.
“What do you know about the gate?” I ask.
We’re losing precious time. I want to protect my breathtaking world from an invasion.
His eyes never leave the view as he says, “Very little, and still more than most of you humans. Some time ago—twenty years in your world—the fabric of our world shook. Some of us, the most powerful of the demons, felt it. We didn’t know its origin, but the effect was quickly known. The passage between our planes became easier. Where only the most skilled of us used to be able to cross, now any common demon could. And soon, you humans realized it too, and you called to us with rituals.” He laughs. “Your plane, which had always been a secret garden for the travelers of worlds, became common knowledge. And we all saw it as we crossed. A beacon. A tunnel of light—a passage that wasn’t here before.”
“The gate,” I say.
He nods. “That is what we started calling it. We looked everywhere in Hell, but never found it. It was theorized that it must be on your side.”
I start pacing the rooftop. I knew that last part; my demon was looking for the gate on this side. It was the reason why he had taken me as a host. He needed a mutated body strong enough to hold his power on Earth and find the gate.
“This is barely new knowledge to me,” I say, gesturing impatiently. “You’ll need to be more useful than that, demon. Give me a good reason why I took you out of the dark, or I might just send you back.”
Azeroth chuckles. He’s unfazed by my threats. “I don’t know where the gate is, but some important figures in Hell’s armies have been looking, and I’ve heard they’re closing in on a location.”
I stop my pacing. “Where?”
“I was hunting them down when the demonic traders contained me underground. I might not know where the gate is, but I know my kin. I can lead you to the demons on this side who are looking for the gate.”
I nod, thinking. “Again, why would you do that?”
“I told you. I’m looking for someone on this side. An old friend. He came to Earth twenty years ago and never came back. His disappearance is linked to the business with the gate. I’ll help you, exorcist, and we might both find the answers we’re looking for. And we’re both running out of time. Hell’s soldiers are crossing at an alarming rate.”
He’s right. The State Exorcists are in over their heads. It’s why they tolerate me. I kick demons back to Hell to alleviate the workload.
I sigh and hold Azeroth’s gaze for a moment.
“Very well,” I say. “Our deal still holds. Tomorrow night, we start our hunt.”
Azeroth smiles and gets to his feet. He offers me his hand. “Let’s shake, as you humans do.”
I eye his large hand. Is it a subterfuge to get a hold of me? I’m willing to take the risk. Desire rushes through my entire body as we touch. He’s testing me with his power. But I keep my face neutral. His handshake is firm, but not crushing. It’s also far too warm.
“We have a deal, Jon Shaw,” Azeroth says with a smile before finally letting go.
He knows very well what he’s doing.
“Stop doing that,” I say angrily.
I hurry to the stairs to hide my discomfort, and he laughs.
As I go down and reach the living room, I’m surprised to find Leo sitting on the couch. He must have walked in while we were on the roof. He always tries to catch me before I go to bed.
He gets to his feet when he sees me. “Oh, boss! I didn’t know you were up there. The door was closed. Did you—”
But he cuts off as Azeroth lands heavily behind me, having avoided the spiral staircase altogether. His wings are spread as much as the chain allows.
Leo, to his credit, reacts faster than most humans would when faced with a towering demon with horns, wings, and fangs. He gets a hold of a holy water vial he still carries on his person and throws it at Azeroth with a fearsome cry.