02 Awaken-The Soulkeepers (11 page)

“Hey, I told you it wouldn’t be easy,” Santiago said.

“Well, we’re mega-short on time. Let me see your arms.” He gestured impatiently at the Demon Knights, who exchanged bewildered looks. “Damnit, Santi! Didn’t you tell them why they’re here?”

Santiago grimaced. “Guys, meet Julian Wexler, boy genius and pisser on all good moods.”

“What do you do down here?” Dante cast a suspicious eye around the room. He recognized the locations visible on each surveillance monitor as the five gates of Hell.

Julian rocked back in his chair and began massaging the magnetic silly putty in his hand. “Look, we can spock, paper, scissor this to see who gets to play twenty questions, but like I said, we’re mega-short on time so if you’ll just—”

“You will answer my question!” Dante shouted, startling Julian. The boy genius blanched, and Dante narrowed his eyes, happy to remind the underling of his place. “I am a member of the Royal Court, and I expect you to follow my orders. Now, tell me what,
exactly
, you do here and who you work for.”

Julian leaned forward in his chair, visibly shaken. “Well I … work directly for Lord Brutus and The Order. Um, as you can see, I’m on surveillance and all things high tech on this level of Hell. I’ve recently developed a new identification system that makes the old system obsolete. A facial recognition for DOIs that now extends to iris and retinal scans, voice and demonic recognition. Code like that.”

“DOIs?” Vaughn asked.

“Demons of Interest. And you two have been DOIs for about four hundred years. The difference now is that you’ll no longer have permission from Lord Brutus or The Order to resurface. Just like before, you’ve been grounded. Only this time you’re on the short list; the permanent list.”

“But we passed through the gate unharmed last time,” Dante said, scrutinizing the monitors.

“That’s because The Order gave you a death contract, and they gave
me
your permission to resurface. I let you pass through my gate. Now, your access will be denied. Meaning, you can’t even sneak across the gates of Hell. You see, in about thirty minutes my new system will be implemented. The moment you reach the gates, an algorithm will scan these digital readouts here”—he indicated one of the monitors—“and identify you two as DOIs. In the past, all the gatekeepers had was word sent down from The Order to
stop anyone grounded from passing through. Now, biometric features are applied, along with a key code; it’s a two-factor authentication process. You need a key code to go along with your biometric ID.”

Dante frowned, not following. Vaughn slapped him on the arm, and laughed. “Well, if that don’t smoke your hard drive. We’re gonna need a password to get out of Hell.”

Julian laughed but stifled it when Dante scowled at him. “Yeah, anyway, you guys would flame out with those tattoo leashes but I figured we have a narrow space of time to get you through the gates undetected.”

“And there’s more,” Santiago jumped in. “Tell them about the weapons.”

“There’s weapons?” Vaughn perked up, practically beaming at the mention of the word.

“Not just any weapons,” Julian said proudly. “Mystical binary shit, but it’s completely beta. You gotta understand, nothing’s been tested. Theory is, my new weapons will kill demon hunters.”

“And angels!” Santiago blurted out.

Dante and Vaughn froze and stared at Julian.

“I never said it would kill angels,” he snapped at Santiago, and then glanced uncomfortably at the Demon Knights. “I said if the bugs are out and it’s code, it could take one down. Meaning, if my recipe is correct and galbanum was the missing element, it
might
have the
possibility
of debilitating an angel long enough to drag it to Hell. Otherwise, the whole thing could crater.” He shrugged, unwilling to brag as he had to Santiago, now that he was in the company of members of the Royal Court.

Dante had never heard of such a thing, and Vaughn was too intrigued to be suspicious.

“Man, I’m getting wood just thinking about it. Now, where is this little she-devil?” Vaughn poked around the room, tossing crap aside.

“Doesn’t work like that,” Julian said, snatching the light saber chopsticks and Wookie coozie that Vaughn was holding. “Look, I have to embed them, okay? And we’re running outta time, seriously, man.”

“What do you mean ‘embed’ them?” Dante asked.

Julian took Vaughn’s arm. “I mean embed them, here, along the forearm. It’s optimal placement.”

“Hey, if it’s gonna hurt, make mine a double.” Vaughn held out both arms.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that. People don’t call you Sir Bleeds a Lot for nothing.”

“People call me that?” Vaughn flashed a smile at Dante. “Now, don’t that stroke my … ego just right. Well, hell, let’s get it on or should you buy me a drink first?”

“We have to agree on a
deal
first,” Julian said, returning to this chair. “Here it is in a megabyte: I load you guys with some high-tech-black-art-weaponry shit that gives you kick-ass ability on the surface.” He glanced at his digital clock. “We’ve only got fifteen minutes left until I shut down the system while my new security algorithm is implemented. It’ll take thirty seconds. During that time, you two will pass through the gates, taking Santiago with you. Once you’re topside, you take care of your business while Santi takes care of mine. But remember, because you leave through gate five, you must return through gate five. Anything else is sub-optimal. I’ll be wired in, but if you try sneaking back through another gate, that gatekeeper will fry you; plan will crater. Roger that?”

Dante stared at the monitors while considering the plan. Most of Julian’s instructions were gibberish to his traditional senses but one thing struck a chord. “Why the weapons?”

Julian became coy and shrugged. “I’ve been heads down on this for a while. Could make an impression at this year’s Demonic Games and … well, my bandwidth doesn’t allow testing down here so …”

“And why should we trust you? Why do you not embed one of these homegrown weapons in yourself and resurface?”

“Totally boss questions, but it wouldn’t do any good to embed the weapon in myself. First off, I couldn’t take the subcutaneous pain, and secondly, I can’t resurface. I’m a gatekeeper.” Julian shrugged out of his robe and revealed a green chain tattoo emblazoned around his bicep. It was identical to the ones Dante and Vaughn had just received but without the extension down their arms.

“You see, Isatou brands all gatekeepers. We’re stuck in this black hole forever. Whereas you guys got a bit of tether, at least ten links down to your wrists. I heard the witch proclaim you bound to Hell, ‘just like the Master.’ Well, Isatou was trying to clue you in; she did you a favor. The Master has a long tether, and if your brand is like his, you could probably resurface without much restraint. I mean, you can’t go continent hopping like before, but I bet it’ll get you where you wanna go.”

So that’s why Isatou had looked so pleased. She had deceived Lord Brutus
and
did Dante a favor.

“How do you know about a conversation that happened less than an hour ago?” Dante asked.

Julian tapped one of the touch-screen monitors. It sprang to life and revealed a
live shot of the Death Bunker, particularly the two cells that held Dante and Vaughn.

“Damn,” Vaughn muttered. “I was on TV this whole time and didn’t know it.” He laughed and smoothed back his hair.

“Do you know why Isatou would help you?” Julian asked, but Dante refused to answer.

“She got a thing for you?” Vaughn elbowed him and grinned.

“I would hardly call it a ‘thing,’ ” he said, shrugging it off.

“Well, how ’bout it then?” Santiago asked. “Is it a deal? ’Cause if we’re gonna do this, we gotta make like a farmer and bail.”

Dante gave it some thought, and then looked at Vaughn for his decision.

“Hey, we’re dead either way, right?”

Julian got the nod of approval from Dante and began peeling back his Einstein poster. Carved into the wall was a secret shelf that held a black velvet bag. He opened the bag and emptied the content onto his palm. It was an obsidian handle similar to the one Isatou had used to create their tattoos.

“This is gonna burn like before, only worse. I’m not using a fire chain but direct pressure.”

As much as Vaughn wanted the pain, Dante insisted he be tested first in case something went wrong. Steeling his nerves, he offered his arm. Julian grasped Dante around the wrist and shook the crystal like a spray can. When the tip had turned bright red, he carefully placed it against the smooth skin of Dante’s left forearm.

Dante flinched as his arm sizzled and smoked. His body began to tremble while Julian went to work, etching an exotic-looking dagger into his skin. Blazing heat raced through Dante as though his blood were boiling. Sweat broke across his forehead, and his eyes rolled back in his head. Like all his torture sessions, he forced himself to escape the pain by focusing on Sophia.

By the time Julian started on his right forearm, Dante was lost in his self-induced visions. Thanks to Persuasion’s hypnotic powers, Dante could remove himself from the pain his body endured. He was with Sophia in the courthouse, feeling his arms around her slender body in the lavender dress. He reveled in her warm, sweet kiss as she offered herself in complete submission. She was his, as it was always meant to be.
I’m coming, Sophia. And this time, I will not be asking your permission. You will come home with me
.

“There! It’s done.” Julian sat back, panting. He wiped his forehead and stared at the elaborate artwork on Dante’s arms.

When Dante roused, the burning sensation came flooding back. It took his breath away, and he balled his hands into fists.

His forearms sported twin dagger tattoos. They were deep purple at the hilt, fading into red blades with gold tips. Swirling black lines overlaid the daggers like coiled snakes.

“Now what?” Dante said through clenched teeth.

“Shake your arms down like you have something up your sleeves.”

Dante shook his arms, forcing the excruciating pain from his forearms, down to his wrists, across his palms, and into his fingertips. Again and again, he shook until the tattoos began to slide beneath his skin. It was almost unbearable, and Dante had to stop for a moment to catch his breath.

“Maybe it’s like a Band-Aid,” Santiago offered. “Just give it a good, hard—”

Dante flicked a cold look that stopped further suggestions, but he eventually took the unsolicited advice. He snapped his arms, first one and then the other. The dagger tattoos ploughed through veins and tissue in sporadic jerks until they shot out his wrists and landed into his palms.

“Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Vaughn said, disbelievingly. His eyes were alight with excitement. “It hurt, didn’t it? Please say it hurt.”

Dante tested the weight and balance of the daggers. They fit perfectly in each palm. He tried to rotate them but they were stiff on the spin.

“Oh yeah,” Julian said. “They won’t rotate too easily, but with practice I think they’ll loosen up. And you can’t throw them. They’re obviously attached to the body.”

“Okay, my turn.” Vaughn forced his way between Dante and Julian. “Hit me with your best shot.”

Carving the tattoos for Vaughn went much faster; Julian didn’t have to work slowly to minimize the pain. Once done, Vaughn easily shook them into his palm and worked on rotating them.

“Seriously man, I think I love you,” he said, strolling around and whipping the daggers in and out of his flesh.

Julian checked the clock; they were nearly out of time so he began stuffing various items into a backpack. “Now, listen up,” he told Santiago. “I have a list of everything I want in here, so don’t lose it. This won’t hold it all so get another bag, okay? I don’t want the circuit boards damaged. And if you can’t find the electric conductive ink pens, don’t get the solar ones. Kind of useless down here. I’ll take a bag of quantum bits instead. And don’t forget the case of Top Raman and the Death Star soccer ball.” Santiago gave him a look. “What? It’s an icebreaker for hittin’ on underlings when I’m in flirt mode,” Julian said.

Santiago scoffed. “Wouldn’t want you to have an intergalactic episode when
you’re trying to hook up.”

There was a scraping sound like a guillotine being dropped, and Julian rushed to his keyboard and tapped a button, killing the noise. “That’s the alarm. You have two minutes to reach the gate before it’s shut down and the new system is installed. Get through the gate as quickly and quietly as you can. Once you’re over the bridge and through the Badlands, well, you know the rest. Up and around until it spits you out at the Borderlands and then you flash to Haven Hurst. Just remember, you must return together through gate five. Good luck.”

The moment I turn off the shower I hear it, the faint thumping of drums. I’m sure I didn’t leave my music on, so I dry in a rush, pull on sweats and a T-shirt, and twist my hair up into a small towel turban. I open the bathroom door as the beat climbs an octave higher. It’s quick and familiar, but I can’t figure why I should be hearing it now. I hurry down the stairs and catch Sundance, my golden retriever, at the bottom. I ruffle his ears and then we follow the wailing cry as the lyrics begin.

Dunna dunt, dunna dunt, dunna dunna dunna dunt, dunna dunt dunna do
.

“What the hell?”

I stop in the kitchen doorway and there is Dad and Bailey, dancing their hearts out to “Chelsea Dagger.” They are wearing frilly pink aprons and are wielding spatulas. The kitchen smells of sugar, fresh bread, and honey, while the countertops are a wild concoction of various dry ingredients. Something is sizzling in the deep fryer but nobody seems to care.

Bailey’s spatula is a microphone, and she sings at the top of her lungs. I break up laughing. Dad is radiant in his absurdity; he never could dance. He used to be a punk rock devotee back in the day; I was raised on the Violent Femmes, The Clash, and The Kinks, so it’s no wonder that he’s euphoric over The Fratellis. I can hear the similarities.