Demon Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Keep in Touch

  Bounty

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Newsletter

  Acknowlegements

  Bounty

  Ellis Everley

  Ellen South

  Bounty

  Brimstone and Blood Book 7

  Copyright © 2017 Ellis Everley and Ellen South.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Bounty

  Whatever the hell Locke shot me with, it knocked me clean out. When eventually I came to, although drowsy, I felt unusually calm and strangely comfy, considering I’d probably just been injected with enough sedative to knock out a baby elephant. I became aware of droning air conditioners, and the hum of medical equipment echoed in the background. And there was a thick smell of disinfectant; it was masking another odor, something sickly. I jerked at the sound of movement, and then felt a stinging prick in the vein on the back of my hand. I half-expected to find myself in hospital when my eyes snapped open. What a feckin’ disappointment that was.

  I was wearing a hospital gown right enough, but this was like no medical clinic I’d ever been in. The heart monitor I was hooked up to bleeped erratically in reaction to the panic that was shooting through me. I was on my back looking up at a headache-inducing strip light, you know the kind I mean, the kind they have in cheap nightclub toilets, the ones that make everyone look like they’re a closet heroin addict.

  I was in a large stone-walled room, no windows, so probably underground. Locke was beside me, attaching a drip to my arm. He glanced at me briefly and then continued to hook me up to a saline bag like all of this was perfectly normal, at least I hoped it was a saline bag. My instinct was to get up. That didn’t happen. I was strapped down on a gurney, and I wasn’t the only one. Further to my right was some poor emaciated-looking fella, maybe in his fifties, it was hard to tell. He looked really, really ill. He was unconscious, or asleep, I wasn’t sure which. An oxygen mask was strapped over his face and various tubes and wires were sprouting out of him. Beyond him, there was another bed with another ‘patient.’ To my right, behind Locke, was an empty bed, and then the door. A thudding pain in the back of my head, got my attention, maybe I’d fallen back and cracked my skull after being tranquilized.

  “Lemme go,” I mumbled incoherently, as my tongue was swollen. I tested the restraints and found they weren’t just on my wrists; they were on my ankles, too. I was strapped in like a hippo in a leotard. Jesus, was this it? Had I actually been ‘Retired’? Had I really wound up in the Pit? I only half-believed it even existed. I’d always taken it as an empty threat from Simon whenever he wanted to keep me in check, like telling a naughty two-year-old to behave or the boogey monster’ll get them. And, even if the threat was real, I’d never really thought that it could happen. I always thought Simon would save me. Surely, he wouldn’t have left me his house if he’d thought I was destined for this place. Fuck, if only he was here now.

  Locke remained stoic, as he set up electrical equipment around me. “Don’t you ever get sick of doing the Deacon’s dirty work?” He ignored me. He was going to be a hard nut to break. “Course not. You probably enjoy it, don’t you?” That insult had no effect either. Sleeves rolled up, he was still in that weird training outfit, making me wonder if I was still in Nazareth House? He strode to a cupboard at the other side of the room and started untangling a series of thin wires that were as tangled as Christmas lights. I noticed my neighbor in the bed next to me had similar wires attached to his head that ran to a monitor. I had a bad feeling about this.

  I willed myself to think straight, but my brain was all fuzzy. I lifted my head, straining to take in as much as possible, looking for anything I could use, even though my vision was blurring in and out. I made out the ‘patient’ furthest away from me now; it was an older woman. I was afraid, were they Homalus like me? Consigned to the Pit, lying there in various stages of decay, strung out on Brimstone. That would be my fate too, if I didn’t do something. But there, I’d gone and done it, hadn’t I? I’d thought of that magical word that has no problem in bending me to its will, ‘Brimstone’.

  My mind quickly went from ‘a little hit would be really good right now’, to ‘I really need a hit right now’. The addiction gripped me and didn’t let go. The two people lying next to me might’ve looked like well-aged junkies, but I bet they were having the best trips of their lives. Hell, they were on a permanent trip, weren’t they? I don’t know how many times I’ve secretly dreamt of that; never having to go through a come down. Never getting the sweats or feeling the waves of nausea, and never having that desperate longing that consumes your every waking thought. Maybe a constant high was the Church’s way of thanking you. I was tempted. I’m not going to lie to you, I was monumentally tempted. In fact, this seemed like a just reward for all my hard work, for the normal life I was never able to have, for literally sacrificing myself and landing up in Hell. My mouth was watering. The craving had set in, and you know cravings, they don’t just disappear, they grow stronger.

  A double rap on the other side of the door interrupted my train of thought. Without waiting for an answer, it swung wide open and in stepped Cardinal Valdis. I finally got a full view of him. With neat, short, gray hair tucked under a red skullcap, he was pretty much Demon Headmaster material, minus the dark glasses. He was long and lanky, the black mozzetta making his shoulders look broader than they probably were. He wore a big, fat, gold cross around his neck; it was probably worth more than I could make in a lifetime, but that wouldn’t be difficult. I have told you how rubbish the pay is for being an exorcist’s lackey, right? The Cardinal strode in, hands tucked behind his back, already with a wide smirk on his face. He quickly took in the view, nodded to Locke, and then welcomed someone else into the room, Neve!

  My heart monitor erupted into a flurry again. “Come on in, don’t be shy,” he had a hoity-toity accent, so that was me immediately rubbed up the wrong way. Neve timidly stepped into view, her eyes widened when she saw me lying there, shackled to the bed.

  “Neve… ” and then Locke was on me, shoving something hard and plastic into my gob to stop me from talking. I mumbled and struggled against it, trying to push it out with my tongue, but couldn’t.

  “What are you doin’ to her?” Neve rushed to my side, shoving Locke away. She tugged at the strap over my wrist, started to unfasten it when the Cardinal intervened.

  “It’s for her protection as well as ours.” My hands clenched into tight balls; God, I wanted to strangle him right there, so yeah, sort of proving his point I guess. I continued to make muffled noises. My head was throbbing, it’s difficult to remember everything exactly, but the relief of having Neve by my side was enormous, I know that.

  “Can’t you loosen them? They’re way too tight. Look at the marks on her wrists.” That’s my girl, jumping to my defense, looking for a way for me to escape.

  “All in due course,” and Valdis drew her attention away. “I brought you here because I trust you.” Valdis was trying to win her over. Even in my concussed state, I could see that. “I want your mind to be put at ease. It’s important that you understand the process of what we do here.” Neve looked around the room. I knew her well enough to know that she’d be
partly appalled and partly fascinated. Valdis read her reaction. “Don’t think of this place as a prison, think of it more as a necessary quarantine.” Christ, it sounded like I was being put into an animal shelter. “It’s comfortable here, she’ll be kept safe, but more importantly, she won’t be able to harm you, or anyone else from now on,”

  “What’s going to happen to her?” she asked, watching Locke, who, having finally unraveled the ball of wires, began attaching them to my forehead. They were connected to some brain-monitoring device, which made me wonder just how much activity was being recorded from the other two relics in the room.

  “We use the inhibitor, Brimstone, to induce a tranquil sleep.” He meant a coma.

  “For how long?” she wanted to know. I wondered that too, with Brimm, their Brimstone producing Hell creature no longer locked up in the archives, how long would their stocks last?

  “As long as it takes to find a cure,” the Cardinal announced. Ugh, but I didn’t have a feckin’ illness, it was like the cure they thought they could find for being gay. Jeez, anything the Church don’t like you doing, they automatically think it must be you who’s wrong, not them. Thankfully Neve thought the same thing.

  “You canny cure her disorder.” Okay, calling it a disorder was insulting. “It’s in her genetics. The Deacon told me she was born like this, like I was. If you can cure her, then you can cure me as well, surely?” Go Neve! Explain your way out of that one, Cardinal Dickhead.

  “You’re right of course,” he appeased her. “Perhaps ‘cure’ was the incorrect word to use, I apologize,” he paused, carefully considering his next words. “What I meant was exorcised.” Neve was still confused, as was I. “Demons can be exorcised, can they not?”

  “I guess so,” Neve shrugged.

  “These poor souls,” he indicated towards me and the two other wretched sods, “Are all under the grip of an extremely powerful possession.” Neve didn’t look convinced, and this was also news to me. I’d never once heard Simon talk of it like that. The Cardinal was pretty high up in the order of things, so was this really what the Church thought?

  “Does that mean I’m possessed by an angel?” she questioned.

  “No little one,” he said in a condescending tone. “You… are born of angels.”

  “One of my parents was an angel?” she wasn’t buying that either.

  “As God did unto Mary, an angel did unto your mother. You are a blessing, a wonder, a gift,” he smiled sweetly. “This one,” and he looked at me, “this one has been cursed beyond our current capabilities as Exorcists. As siblings, we can’t discount that this is perhaps the Devil’s very own attempt to take you from us.” Could that really be true? Was I the Devil’s very own ticking time bomb of death and destruction? A tear ran down my cheek. I looked at Neve, shaking my head, begging her not to believe it, but Valdis kept her attention; he wanted to tear us apart. “The Division are doing good work, and maybe one day we’ll find a way to remedy it, until then…” My head was swimming; the concussion made this feel like a dream, except it was more like a waking nightmare. And I was scared, really scared. The prospect of being happily tanked up on my drug of choice had been replaced by the terrifying thought of being held hostage down here, completely powerless, and at the mercy of the Church. For like EVER!

  “Will she… Are they aware of what’s happening?” Neve asked.

  “She’ll be at peace.” Now he was making it sound like I was dead, “They all are. They’re no longer in pain, no longer full of anger and bitterness. We help them to find inner peace here. Something they can never achieve on their own.” Valdis had changed the way he was talking about me. I wasn’t ‘Cait’ or ‘your sister’ anymore; I was ‘they’, ‘them’, and ‘it’. He was talking about Homalus as though we weren’t human, like we were a totally different species; one that was full of hate and menace, and one that needed to be controlled by a higher order. And Neve was drinking this bullshit in, as though the Cardinal was spouting the words of God himself.

  “Come see,” he walked past me, drawing her to the guy next to me. I don’t know if it was the nausea caused by the knock on my head, but my demon senses tingled ever so slightly. That made me fear that the Bounty Hunters might be nearby. Neve would be safe if we were on hallowed ground, but I’d still no idea where the Pit actually was. Bizarrely, it made me grateful that Locke was there. And the Cardinal. However blind and misguided they were, I was comforted knowing that they’d be able to protect Neve if an attack came.

  “Place your hands on his head, like I showed you.” Neve was wary at first, and rightfully so. Couldn’t she see how fucked up this was? But Valdis encouraged her and she submitted. He really had her under his thumb. She was a good student. She kept her head down and put in the work at school, always looking for praise from her teachers. Not like me, sitting at the back of the class, doling out cheek to get a cheap laugh. While I wanted to be popular, and abysmally failed, Neve took her lessons seriously; she wanted to make something of herself.

  I’d been trying to hold eye contact with her as much as possible, trying to communicate with her in some way, to make a connection, but she could barely look me in the eye; instead, she looked to Valdis for direction. She stood behind the unconscious guy on the gurney, Valdis slid in behind her, disgustingly close, peering over her shoulder, it made my skin crawl. He took her hands in his and placed them on the guy’s temples. “Remember your training,” he instructed and stepped back, much to my relief, allowing her room to perform for him. Neve closed her eyes and concentrated.

  It fell silent; an almost ethereal sensation filled the room as she focused on displaying some new Paragonus ability she’d learned. Her brow furrowed. I wasn’t sure whether she was trying to look into this poor fella’s mind, pick up on his emotions, or what, but nothing happened. She quit and opened her eyes, “I don’t sense anything. There’s nothing there,” I felt like saying ‘No shit, Sherlock’, the guy’s mind would’ve left him a long, long time ago. Even though Brimstone made you feel on top of the world, it was no health supplement. Like all drugs, it would rot your brain eventually.

  “Focus, Neve,” Valdis gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and concentrated, “Tell me what you feel,” she lifted her head letting her magic guide her; she looked so beautiful and serene, pride welled in me.

  “Warmth, like the heat of the sun.”

  “Good, what else?”

  “A stillness…” The Cardinal winced ever so slightly.

  “Go deeper,”

  “Um… joy?” The Cardinal smiled, but her uncertainty sounded like a warped joke to me. “Happiness. I feel a sort of contented happiness,” she turned to look at Valdis, seeking his approval, and he gave it with a satisfied nod. He took his hand off her shoulder and she suddenly cried out, full of fear and pain. Quick as you like the Cardinal pulled her away from the poor man, severing the connection. Neve was totally shaken, trembling like a leaf. I tried to call to her through my gag, but my words were inaudible mumbles and splutters. What the hell just happened? The Cardinal took her in his arms, like a total creep, shielding her from me.

  “Yes, well, there’s a lot to take in. It’s been a long day, I think you’ve seen enough.” And he escorted her towards the door. She didn’t resist, she wanted to get as far away from the man on the gurney as possible. I caught a fleeting glance from her and I sensed she was afraid, but not of me, for me. It petrified me to think of what she’d just seen. The Cardinal gave another nod towards Locke, who’d been silently organizing my soon-to-be tomb, and then before he left, Valdis paused and looked at me, like right at me. His face was like stone, I couldn’t read him, but it he filled me with dread and horror. He turned away, ushering Neve out of view, closing the door, and then they were gone.

  I screamed. Well, as much as I could scream with that foul-tasting gag in my mouth. I screamed and I roared with all my might to the point where the gurney shook and tears were streamed down the side of my f
ace, soaking the pillow. Locke stood at the bottom of the bed, watching in silence, letting me get it out of my system maybe. He held a medical tray with a single syringe full of glistening amber liquid. It was time.

  I was terrified. He couldn’t understand my words, but I’m damn sure Locke knew exactly what I was saying. I begged him “no”, I pleaded, “please don’t”, and I continued to cry, and shake, and test those bloody straps holding me down, to the max. Locke actually looked sympathetic. I don’t think he took any pleasure in what he was doing, but he carried on regardless. His complete calmness was a strange contrast to my sheer hysteria. Tapping the syringe, he forced out any remaining air and a tiny spurt of Brimstone squirted out. There was some connecting device at the top of the saline bag, he swiped it with an antibacterial wipe, and then plunged the syringe into it, slowly forcing the yellow fluid into the bag. I watched it mix with the saline, diluting the clear liquid into a soft lemon color. It didn’t take long for the Brimstone-tainted substance to reach the top of the tube that was feeding straight into my arm.

  Locke stood back and observed. Ever the professional, he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew the job was done. The Brimstone slowly began to drip, etching its way towards my blood vessel. I was completely helpless, but I knew I couldn’t let this happen. I smashed my already tender head up and down off the pillow; I tried to shake my shoulders, maybe rip the IV out that way; I arched my back as much as humanly possible, but the ankle ties were so tight. The Brimstone moved closer and closer; it was mere inches away. My face was hot; the veins were probably popping out of my head; my wrists were torn and bleeding. I’d twisted and turned them so much, lesions had opened where the skin had rubbed against the hard leather. I was willing the Brimstone to defy gravity, to somehow retract back up the tube, I prayed for forgiveness, and I begged for a second chance, but no one was listening that day. No one listened any day. As usual, it was down to Cait ‘stubborn as feck’ Murphy.