chips flying. The demon reversed course and scurried toward Marty.
Unarmed, Marty stomped down with one heavy boot, and the greasy thing went splat, its legs flailing until they disintegrated into blight.
It took us all a moment to realize we had no more targets in sight.
“Was that… was that all of them?” We turned in slow circles, eyeing the shadowy corners of the room.
“I think so.” My eyes were on Duke, though. The mastiff prowled the room, sniffing under things until he was satisfied. Only once did he hesitate, at the foot of the stairs, a faint growl rumbling through his chest, but whatever was up there wasn’t worth pursuing because he let it go. I made a mental note to check out the second floor later. If the dog wasn’t worried, it would wait. “I think we’re good.”
“How soon will we know if it’s gonna help Zane and Oscar?” Will was already eyeing his patient critically.
“Dad? Dad, you okay?” We turned to see Zane peering at his father as the older man blinked in confusion.
Oscar took a few deep, experimental breaths. “Yeah, I think so. I just… I can breathe again. Like there’s a weight gone.” The older man rolled his shoulders hesitantly, and breathed deeply.
“‘Bout that quick. See how Zane’s doing. I’ll get this glass cleaned up.” Mirror shards crunched under my boots, scattered all over the floor in the chaos.
Cameron was on his feet, albeit wobbly, when I took the mirror frame away from him, leaning it on the bar. “I should go sit with the Quinns. Maybe I can offer them some comfort…”
I grabbed his shoulder, squeezing harder than was strictly necessary. “I don’t think so. You owe me a talk.” Now that the immediate threat was over, and I had time to really think about it, I was getting pissed. Cameron was so much more than he’d pretended, which meant he’d lied to me, my friends, my wife, and most importantly, to a woman I greatly respected and cared for. Dr. Bridget was my wife’s best friend, yes, but she was one of mine too. And if you think protective dads are bad, just wait ’til you get a load of me.
He glanced around the room, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. Civilians. “Not here. Upstairs.”
I nodded, and went about cleaning up the mess first. There was glass to sweep, and blood to mop, and that was just the start of things. It was going to take him a bit to get up the stairs anyway, in the condition he was in. I was honestly amazed that he hadn’t collapsed already.
By the time I got the glass in the trash, the possibly ex-priest was out of sight. I headed for the stairs with one of the lanterns. This wasn’t a night to be in the dark.
I picked up my sword, too, on the way up. Duke was wary of the second floor for some reason, and I wasn’t taking any chances. In the white light of the Coleman lantern, there seemed to be nothing amiss, however. The sleeping bags were all still laid out where we’d left them, and there really wasn’t anywhere for anything to hide. Just the darkest shadows, gathering in the eaves of the roof. I raised the light higher to banish them, proving to myself that there was nothing there. Nope, just me and the hiss of the kerosene lantern. And Cam of course.
He eyed my bared blade from his seat on his own sleeping bag. “Thinking of using it?”
“I guess that’s going to depend on what you say. Jesse’s a very grumpy fellow at this exact moment.” I set the lantern on the floor.
“Does Jesse often refer to himself in the third person?” When I just gave him a flat look, he sighed wearily. “You’ve got every right to be angry. And suspicious.” Instead of offering more, though, he just sat and looked at me.
“Look, I’m not going to play twenty questions with you. Spill it. Now.” I’d never turned my sword on another human being in my life- What were those things outside? Shut up, Jesse. -but at that moment I wanted to.
“All right, but you’re not going to like most of what I’m going to say.”
I settled for perching on Will’s sleeping bag, still rolled into its little ball. “You don’t get to presume to know me that well. Talk.” The lantern left us in a small bubble of light, with the night pressing in all around. I felt like we were two kids, telling ghost stories in the dark. Only there really were ghosts in the dark, and they were trying to eat my face.
“I wasn’t honest with you. With any of you. About who I am.”
“Y’think? Is Cameron even your name?”
He nodded. “Brother Cameron, to be more precise.”
“Oh God, you’re a monk?!”
He was trying for patience, and I knew I was sorely testing it. Couldn’t help myself, it’s my nature. “It’s a title. Just a title. I’m part of the Ordo Sancti Silvii, the Order of Saint Silvius. I don’t know if you’ve heard of us…”
“I usually call you all the Knights Stuck-up-idus.”
A faint smirk crossed his face. “I’ve heard that before. That was you?”
Demon hunters, champions like me, only run by the Catholic Church. Five men, never fewer than five, operating under the name of a saint who didn’t exist. They had as little to do with us, Ivan’s champions, as possible. Mocked and reviled us, even. So why the sudden interest in fraternization?
“So that makes you a holy roller?”
“Yes, I am an ordained priest. Technically.”
“And what are you doing here?”
He sighed, raking fingers through his short hair. “We were… afraid something like this might happen. I was supposed to stay near you, keep an eye out.”
“Something like what exactly? You knew we’d be ambushed and trapped inside a cabin in godforsaken nowhere?”
“No.” Weariness just oozed from his pores. I’d seen Mira after some big magic, and it knocked her on her butt for days. I was surprised Cam was still upright, much less speaking coherently. “No, if I’d have known about this, I’d have come ready. Me being here on this day was just…”
“If you say divine intervention, I’m going to kick you in the face.” Okay, there was a small flicker of guilt at the thought that I was threatening an actual priest, but it was a really tiny flicker.
“Let’s say happy coincidence.”
“So what do you know? Brother Cameron.” I leaned forward, keeping the sword between us. Y’know, just to remind him it was there.
“Surprisingly little. I’m one of the frontline soldiers, not someone who calls the shots.” He blinked slowly as the tip of my sword came to rest on his hand, pinning it ever so lightly to the floor.
“Look at me, Cameron.” I waited for him to raise his eyes. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t believe you. If I have to keep prying things out of you, one secret at a time, things are going to get ugly. In your current condition, you might want to think twice about trying to take me on.” See, in my world, where the code of the bushido ruled, Cam had already marked himself as a dishonorable man by lying to me. Punishing him for it was therefore just and right. Guess it was a good thing for him that I was a nicer guy than that.
He looked me in the eyes for long moments, weighing his options, I guess. Finally, carefully, he picked the blade up with two fingers and moved it away from his hand. “We had heard… rumors. Rumors of a hit going out on champions, us, anyone who makes a name for themselves fighting against the demons.”
“Rumors from where?”
He hesitated for long moments until I tapped the back of his hand with my blade again. “I’m not… There are things that aren’t known outside the order. I shouldn’t speak of them.”
“But you will.” I saw it in his eyes. He’d follow whatever orders he’d been given, but they didn’t set easily on him. He wanted to tell me; he just needed a little encouragement. “We’re all in danger here, Cam. We have a right to know why.”
“There’s a book. An ancient text, older even than the oldest known printed Bible. It predates… everything, as nearly as we can tell. Written in three languages, left as an instruction manual of sorts. The order is based around it.”
“Go on.” Ghost stories. In the dark. That’s all.
Cameron rubbed the uninjured side of his head, and I could see him weighing his words carefully. “The book details a time of great strife. A time when the residents of Hell would rise up and war with each other. The war will spill over into the human world, causing complete and total destruction.”
