slightly elevated by a mound of dirt, the paralysis holding her fast, my mind found its own way to pass the time.
I needed to get me some of that poison.
Chapter Eight
I stared off at the horizon as we walked, the sun climbing into the sky at a snail’s pace. A subtle, growing warmth challenged the chill while dawn arrived to chase away the gloom; the darkness that is.
Our personal gloom was dead set on sticking around. The feeling in my arm and leg had returned, at least enough so I could move a little. There was a lasting stiffness that pricked at my nerves as I got up. It was an uncomfortable pins and needles kind of feeling, but not horribly limiting.
Veronica’s function returned a good while later as we made our way back toward Old Town. I’d carried her for a while as the poison worked its way out of her nervous system, and until she regained movement in her legs.
Lucky for me, her mouth was the first to come unstuck. I had to listen to her rabid complaints the entire way. Trudging through the desert, wooden-legged and slow, it made for a long, unpleasant trip. It didn’t take me long to remember why I’d dropped her off in Hell all those years ago.
Beautiful on the outside, what spewed from the inside would make a sailor blush and a demon pray the rosary. She had a way with words, my Veronica. I kept my sanity by thinking of creative ways to shut her up. If I hadn’t been so afraid to lose a body part in the process, I’d have acted on a few of them.
At last, my ears burning, we kicked the dirt from our feet and stumbled onto the ruin of Fiesta Street. I never thought I’d be so glad to see this place during the day.
Veronica, at home in Old Town, suggested a place we could go to recuperate before heading back out after…
…we’ll just pretend she said Karra.
Not interested in having to answer to Baalth, I waved her on. One ass kicking in a day was more than enough for me. Still steaming, she stormed off without argument. I could hear her muttered curses for several minutes after she’d disappeared.
Just glad it wasn’t me she was pissed at, I wandered down the street to find a phone. For once that was easy. I went into one of the sex shops hit by the zombie raid the night before. Still unlocked and surprisingly un- looted, I headed for the counter, by way of the video racks.
What?
Testosterone is at its peak in the morning, I couldn’t help it.
Anyway, after my perusal, I gave a call to DRAC and waited, checking out the rest of the store. It wasn’t but a few minutes before I heard Abraham’s charming voice inside my head.
“Find anything, Frank?” He still sounded upbeat despite our being in the dark as to what Reven intended. Rachelle must be one hell of a lay.
There were a couple of things on the shelves that had caught my eye, but I knew that wasn’t what he meant. “Turns out our necro-buddy has his zombies kidnapping people so he can drain their blood. He made away with about three tubfuls last night.”
“Last night?” I could hear the surprise in his voice. “I hadn’t heard of any attacks.”
“Yeah. I ran into some of his pets out here in Old Town. Figuring you guys had the cemeteries covered, I went looking elsewhere. Come to find out, he’s got his own little graveyard out in the desert.”
Hole sweet hole.
Abraham paused a moment then piped back up, his voice agitated, “If he’s gathering blood in copious amounts, he’s looking to raise an army, or perhaps even a powerful soul of some sort. We need to figure out what he’s doing.” His concern wafted through the telepathic connection.
He hadn’t thought much of Reven’s power, deemed insignificant compared to what we’ve faced before, but it was clear the necromancer had big plans. We just needed to know what they were before they blew up in our faces. “Perhaps Baalth knows something.”
I whistled a few bars of Chopin’s Funeral March. “I don’t think so. He’s had me and Veronica out hunting zombies. If he knew anything, I’d have heard about it by now, seeing how I’m doing his grunt work. Besides, he seems a bit out of it. He’s got other problems right now and based on how he’s coping, Reven’s antics are probably the last thing on his angry little mind.”
“What kind of problems?”
“No idea, but they’ve got him chomping at the bit pretty hard. He’s on edge. And I do mean right on the edge. I know we’ve got enough to deal with already, but I don’t think it’d hurt to keep an eye on him. He’s wound tighter than Paula Abdul.”
Abraham sighed, his disappointment bleeding over. “With Rahim injured and stuck in the office, and Katon doing what he can to make up for both him and our members murdered by Asmoday, we’re falling behind in our intelligence. We need to resolve the Reven issue quickly so we can focus on Baalth. We can’t afford to have him lose control.”
The thought sent a chill rattling down my spine. Given Baalth’s newly acquired powers, any temper tantrum on his part could bring about serious destruction. It wasn’t something any of us wanted to experience. Even if he didn’t blow up and go on a rampage, he needed to stay on top of things.
Though not common knowledge, Baalth’s influence was what kept the majority of the supernatural drama on Earth to a bare minimum. Looking to create his own Hell, he didn’t take kindly to folks muscling in on his territory or spoiling his plans. Only the suicidally brave, or just the plain suicidal, crossed swords with Baalth. But given the opportunity, Baalth’s iron hand slipping, we’d be up to our neck in supernatural shit. Demons are the definition of opportunistic.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m sure I didn’t sound confident. I certainly wasn’t feeling confident. “Dig up what you can on all of the local dead baddies,” I told him as I thought back to my encounter in the desert. “Reven still has a gang of minions with him, so I don’t think he’s looking to make more zombies, but you never know. Maybe we should spread our watch out to the closest counties, keep an eye on their morgues and cemeteries.”
“I’m not sure we have the manpower to spare for all that.” He didn’t sound pleased, no doubt once again remembering the blow Asmoday had dealt DRAC. “I’ll let you know what I come up with.” He broke the connection, leaving me alone inside the shop.
At least I had porn to keep me company.
Grumbling, all the bad news dampening the excitement of free whack material, I headed out to get some coffee. I needed some caffeine to help motivate my sluggish brain.
Out on the street, I headed for downtown. Not much better than Old Town, it would at least be open and serving breakfast that wasn’t cooked in a spoon. I’d made it a few blocks when a long, black limousine rolled around the corner and headed my way. Way out of place, dark tinted windows obscuring the interior, my hackles were up. I made a show of pulling out my gun as the limo pulled up alongside me. Ready to go, I waited as the back window rolled down with a quiet whir.
“You won’t need your weapon, Triggaltheron,” a smooth, sensual female voice drifted out through the window.
If it hadn’t been so sexy sounding, I’d have ripped into her for daring to use my given name. I hated when people did that. The worst part was it meant she knew me, likely giving her the upper hand in whatever her purpose was here. I peered inside to see if I recognized her and whether she was half as attractive as her voice. The answer to both questions was yes.
There, sitting in the limo with casual confidence was Lilith; the Devil’s wife.
Well, not exactly wife.
Not fond of commitment, my uncle never made their relationship official, but it’s always been easier to call her his wife. The chick the Devil used to bang just doesn’t have the same ring to it. Though, technically, they’d split up a while back.
Their relationship had been open, in the most unconventional sense of the word, but she’d apparently
