Connected to God in a way no other creature could claim, the angels were hit the hardest. It was as if the most important part of them had been ripped away, a festering black abyss left rotting in its place. Many went insane. As for the rest, well, let’s just say there are varying degrees of insanity.
I could see the strain in Scarlett’s eyes, their perfect green suffering from the loss of her Lord; herself. Her hand shook as it clutched the pommel of her sword, her knuckles white. I could see the tenseness in her shoulders, the quivering of her lip. Under the circumstances, I did what any gentleman would do for a woman whose whole world, whose life, whose very existence was crumbling down around her. I changed the subject.
Page 8
“So, what’d you do to piss off Baalth?”
She glowered at me, putting her hands on her hips. I could tell she wasn’t sad anymore. The snarl on her face kind of gave that away. Mission accomplished.
“I meted out some divine retribution,” she replied, her voice tinged with frost.
“Can you be more specific?”
She huffed. “I intercepted a shipment of guns last night.”
I shook my head. “So, are we talking about the five-alarm fire at the railyard that wiped out at least twenty warehouses as well as destroyed two cargo trains and caused a handful of deaths?”
She shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? Let them deliver the guns so Baalth’s men can use them to kill innocent people?”
“I didn’t say all that.” Subtlety was a foreign concept to Scarlett. “I just don’t think it makes a lot of sense for you to go burning down the city. You’re drawing attention to yourself and that’s not good.”
“Why not?” She puffed her ample chest out.
“The humans need to know.”
I tore my eyes from her cleavage and gathered my thoughts, yanking them from out of the gutter. Puppies and kittens, puppies and kittens. “What do they need to know? That God and the Devil have gone on permanent vacation? That they’ve left humanity to the mercy of a bunch of crazed angels and bloodthirsty Page 9 demons who want nothing more than to bring about Armageddon?”
“Yes, exactly.”
I rubbed my temples. “We’ve been over this a thousand times, Scarlett. If the humans knew what was really going on there’d be wholesale panic, chaos. They’d start killing each other in the streets, destroying everything they could get their hands on. You’d be helping the pro-Armageddon forces bring about the end. Is that what you really want?”
“Would it be so bad?” I could see the weariness, the loneliness wearing on her, the emptiness welling up to moisten her eyes.
“You’re starting to sound like Gabriel.”
She wrinkled her nose at me. “I’m not suggesting we help bring it about like he wants, but maybe oblivion isn’t such a bad alternative.”
“How can nothingness be cruel?” I quoted the immortal words of Bayou poet, Dax Riggs. She gave me a gentle smile. It made my crotch tingle.
“The truth is I’m not ready to not exist yet.” I didn’t think she was either. “Besides, it’s not our place to make these kinds of decisions. It’s way above my pay grade, for sure. God should be the one to say whether or not to pull the plug on existence. He willed this mess into existence so it’s His job to clean it up.”
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She threw her arms up. “He’s not around to make that decision.”
I played my ace. “Don’t you think He’d have wiped it all out before He left if that was what was in His heart?”
I danced on the inside when I saw her resistance crumble.
“I guess you’re right.” She had a hard time admitting that, her voice slow to mouth the words. I resisted the urge to rub it in. “Yeah, so how about we try to minimize the collateral damage and only burn down five warehouses next time, huh?” I tried to look compassionate. She probably just thought I had gas. “Oh, and maybe lay off Baalth a little bit too. I don’t need his goons pounding my head in every time you decide to go vigilante.”
“Get over it.” She poked my forehead, the knot already gone. “It’s not like they can hurt you.”
That wasn’t entirely accurate. I could be hurt just like anyone else. I still felt pain. I could bleed, break a limb, have my head cracked open, jaw busted; I just healed fast. That, and I can’t be killed by any weapon forged by human hands. I guessed that was what she was talking about. She was still wrong though.
“I just don’t appreciate it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m off to do some good for the world. Are you on your way to visit the Super Friends at the Halls of Justice?”
“The fact you know who the Super Friends are Page 11 frightens me.” I shook my head. “And it’s called work. You should try it sometime.”
Scarlett laughed. “To each their own.” She spun around and gave me a lazy wave as she strutted down the alley.
I can’t say I was sad to see her leave, but I sure liked watching her go, or however that song went. Leather does a body good.
After she was gone, I gave myself a minute to get everything composed, then went off in search of some hot coffee. If my early morning encounters were any indication as to how the rest of my day would go, I was gonna need some caffeine.
DRAC
Certain I wasn’t followed, I slipped into the alley behind the abandoned Plaza Theater, a cup of steaming, frothy goodness clutched in my mitts. I stayed close to the building to avoid being seen by anyone in the nearby low-rent apartments that faced the alley and made my way to the rear stage door. Once there, I grabbed the rusted handle and felt the familiar tingle of sensory wards, followed by the quiet click of the door unlocking. After another quick glance about, I whipped the door open and went inside. The instant it closed behind me I felt a gentle wave of mystical energy prickle the hair on my arms as the portal hummed to life. A gentle tickle danced along the nape of my neck as the humming intensified. A second later, the teleportation spell took hold, whisking me away. Less than a heartbeat later, I arrived in the receiving room at DRAC headquarters. DRAC, or Demonic Resistance and
Containment, was an organization that sprung up in response to the growing demonic threat after God’s disappearance. Though it was later realized the proArmageddon forces weren’t limited to demons, the name stuck. Founded by Abraham Solano, a psychic savant whose visions foretold of God’s disappearance, the group had since gathered to their cause the most Page 13 powerful wizards, psychics, and mystics the human race had to offer. Abraham would soon learn how big a mistake that was.
Only eighteen at the time of DRAC’s formation, Abraham had little practical leadership experience. Without thought to the consequences, he set about gathering the world’s magic and rallying its practitioners. For twenty years, he scoured the planet amassing the largest collection of magical resources and manpower ever compiled, in a single location. He would live to regret the last.
Not fully realizing the scope of what he’d envisioned, Abraham was caught off guard when the pro- Armageddon forces took note of DRAC’s existence. Drawn to the shining beacon of power, which was the organization’s mystical cache, demons raided the compound, laying waste to it. Few survived the attack. Most of the knowledge and artifacts gathered were stolen or destroyed. The organization shattered.
Wounded and ridden with guilt, Abraham would take another ten years to recover and muster the courage to reform DRAC. Nearing his seventies, he had learned the lesson of his past failure. The location I appeared at, just one of many secret facilities, was a testament to that.
Accessible only by teleportation, the receiving room was designed to contain intruders, Page 14 both supernatural and human, who might make it past the initial portal security. On the floor was inscribed a large silver pentagram, its five points surrounded by the empowered summoning circle in which I appeared. Set upon the walls
