Relics (8 page)

According to Jones, as Dhavenbahtek, he had been in existence for thousands of years. He had lived through many ages here, as well as skipping some of Earth's, according to him, less interesting history. Most of those skipped times were those of his choosing. However, there were a few times that he had actually been banished. It didn't happen often, as there were very, very few who could actually banish him. Banishment was never permanent either, and he always found his way back to the human world.

As humanity progressed, mankind caught his interest. The artists were the first to catch his attention. He enjoyed watching how much they could accomplish with their short, little lives. How they created art to be left behind long after they were dead and gone.

By the time people were building the pyramids, he was regularly staying in the human world for long stretches at a time. Often, he would strike up dialogues with different people, impersonating a god or possessing the body of a human.

Most of his fellow daemons thought his preoccupation with the human species was an oddity. Some simply used humans for amusement or fed upon them. Most had little or no interest in humanity, at all. However, there were a few others who also found mortals to be intriguing.

More and more, Dhavenbahtek found himself actually preferring human company to those of his own kind. Humans had a capacity for great things that fascinated him. They also had a capacity for as great an evil as any he had seen. He found the sheer range of extreme behavior intriguing.

As eons passed, he became adept at impersonating not gods, but people. Often he would choose someone and take over their life. Sometimes his possession lasted the entire lifetime of the person. At some point, he claimed, he realized that he could be depriving himself of the entertainment of someone who could achieve greatness, if left on their own. He began to choose victims who would rarely be missed or, in his opinion, would fail to contribute much to the world.

Unfortunately, he admitted, his idea of worth could be very skewed. He also had no compunction about killing. Not all humans were worth preserving, as far as he was concerned, and he could kill with no regret, whatsoever. Eventually, he decided he didn't need to kill almost everyone around him. Death stopped being his first response to the “primitives,” and he began to reserve it for those who were in his way or a common irritation.

“I chose Tyler Jones after he killed the Rodriguez girl. I saw few redeeming qualities in him, and I liked his young age. Using him would give me plenty of time to spend as a human.

“I am afraid he did not like sharing, though, and he did not remain in his own body for long.”

“Just that easy?  His life gone like that?” Thulu snapped his fingers. He seemed bothered by the casualness, as were the rest of us, judging by expressions.

Jones shrugged. “I did not force him to leave. Besides, he was a murderer.”

“So are you!” I couldn’t hold that back.

“Point for you, La Fi,” he said, looking me straight in the eye. I didn't want points, but Thulu broke in.

“So, you don't see a problem with taking over bodies or killing humans?”

“Question: Do you blame the dog for killing the rabbit?”

That stopped us, but only for a moment.

“You're not a dog,” I said. “You're a – thinking being.”

“Yes, but I am not human and to expect me to live by your rules or values is unrealistic. For my kind, I am quite altruistic.”

“You're a stone cold killer.” I was firm.

“I am.” He paused. “I can also be kind, generous and wise. I do admit that crime tends to interest me at this time.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “To see how far I can get. Consider it field work. Your species has developed many ways to detect and track the criminal element. I find it fascinating. So far, they have not been able to catch me, though. Usually they do not even know a crime has been committed.”

“Yeah, let's talk about your crimes. What did baby Jenna ever do to you?” Thulu demanded.

Jones gave him a steady look. “Absolutely nothing. The child's death was an accident.” He met our stares with equanimity. “I am not often around small children. I simply forgot how fragile they are.”

No one was charmed by him now. The mood in the car was quite frigid.

“I made the mistake of sending a couple of my people to retrieve the Masons. I need to go back a bit, though.”

Jones explained that Matt Mason and his partner were involved in building a large commercial property in Chicago, which we already knew.

He went on to explain that there were some old houses on the property where the new building was to be built. In the process of tearing down the buildings, an ancient dagger had been found wrapped in silk and kept in a small chest in one of the old houses. It turned out the house had once belonged to a sailor who had been to the Orient.

“What is it with sailors and the Orient?” I asked irritably.

Jones smiled indulgently. “I will get to that,” he said.

The company who had hired Mason's firm was headed by Sara Grant. Sara was a long-time friend of Jones – and she was also a daemon.

The construction foreman called in Mason and Adams when the relic surfaced. Both of them knew immediately that the artifact was an important find, and they halted construction on the site. At that point, Grant was notified.

Grant contacted Jones immediately. It had been his suggestion to attempt to convince the two partners that the find was in fact a joke being played on Grant.

Grant called in Mason and Adams and told them the dagger had been planted as a joke by one of her longtime friends. She instructed them to continue construction. She went on to say that no one else was to be notified. Not the press, nor the authorities. Failure to obey her instructions would result in unpleasant consequences.

“That was her mistake. She should have laughed it off and left it at that. But she went into overkill. Literally.”

Of course, that alerted Adams and Mason. When they questioned her, she made it clear there would be no further discussion of the matter, or she would find someone else to construct her building.

“By getting that harsh, she confirmed there was more to the story than she claimed. She is not as adept at dealing with humans as I am.”

“We'll make sure you get nominated for Humanity's Favorite Demon.” I was still glaring, but also still listening. Jones ignored my comment.

“Daemon,” he corrected. “Anyway, after they left Grant, the chest with the dagger disappeared. My best guess is that Mason and Adams took it and hid it. Probably to preserve it. Grant said they were both honest and upright types, but she had loved their design, so went with them in spite of that.”

“Oh yeah, you got to watch those honest and upright people. Especially doing business with them.” Thulu shook his head in disgust.

“Well, they are more difficult to control, as this has shown.” We stared at him. “Think about it. If they had been dishonest, we could have paid them off and been done with it. As it was, things got out of control very quickly.” His gift for rationalization was amazing.

When Grant discovered the dagger was missing, she kidnapped Adams and tried to extract the location of the dagger from him. Except Adams didn't know. Only Mason knew where it was, Adams insisted. They had agreed to that when they removed it from the site after their meeting with Grant. They flipped a coin. Mason lost and took the chest. He drove away, while Adams took off for home.

Grant had been careful to leave as few marks on Adams as possible during her interrogation. But dead is still dead, and her zeal to locate the dagger carried her too far. She had the accident staged to cover her tracks.

“I was displeased at the mess Sara made of this. She called me again and told me that Adams was dead.” He shook his head in disgust. “She insisted she had things under control and that this would send a message to Mason. Return the dagger or the same would happen to him. She gave him a day to think about it. Obviously, that was a mistake.

“Unfortunately, the message Mason got was that it was time to run. By the time Grant got to their house the next day, there was no sign of him or his family. In less than a day, he had cleaned out his personal bank and company accounts, packed up his family and disappeared.

“Fortune had smiled on me, but I did not yet know it. I spent several weeks tracking them down. When I found them, I made the mistake of sending in a couple of my employees. In the struggle, Mason was hit hard on the head, and my people were convinced they had killed him. They left him for dead and brought Carolyn and Jenna to me.

“I was not pleased with how the situation was handled and went to their apartment myself. Mason was not dead, but only unconscious. I had the apartment cleaned and Mason moved to a private medical facility. Carolyn and Jenna were moved to the basement in one of my old abandoned buildings.”

Jones looked uncomfortable and didn't speak for a bit. He sat staring out the window.

“This whole thing is not going well. If I were superstitious, I would be very worried.” He looked back at us with a weak smile. “Actually, I am very worried. I did not mean to kill that child. I simply was separating her from her mother. I had hoped that if Mason's wife knew anything at all, she would tell me. I picked up the child –”

“Her name is Jenna,” Nana Fae said each word distinctly.

I can't say that Jones actually squirmed, but he did seem pretty uncomfortable in his stolen body. He gave a short nod to Nana and continued.

“I picked up Jenna and carried her into another room, where I dropped her on the floor –” He stopped, looked away briefly and began again. “I was angry. I tossed her into the room. A dark, empty concrete room. She landed a few feet away. An adult would have survived, bruised, maybe a broken bone or two.” He looked out the window, then back at Nana.

“Jenna hit head down, and the throw broke her neck. I heard it and turned on the light, but I knew she was already dead.” His voice was almost a whisper. “She had been asleep in her mother's arms when I took her. She screamed and cried as I left the room with her.”

There was silence for a long moment. None of us knew what to say. I know I sure didn't. He was a monster, but he wasn't gloating. In fact, he seemed bothered by what had happened. I wanted to hate him, but there was pain in his eyes.

“This is not the most awful thing I have ever done, but it – disturbs me. I have not killed a young child in over a thousand years. I think I have been around humans too much.” His sigh was very human.

“Where are Carolyn and Matt?” Thulu asked. “I'm sure I can find them on my own, but you might as well give them over to us.”

“I moved—” he paused, “Carolyn to the same facility as Matt. He is in a coma and has been since he was hit on the head. Carolyn is in an induced coma and has been since shortly after I killed her daughter. I felt it was more humane. She does not yet know that Jenna is dead.”

I was sick. “Fine, we'll find them on our own.”

“You do not understand. That is not all of it.”

“I understand perfectly. You've killed all of these people so you can have a few pieces of treasure.”

His voice became sharp for the first time. “It has nothing to do with treasure. The dagger is one of four relics that are very important. Not just to me, but to this entire world as we know it. They are used in a ceremony to open or close a portal to another dimension.”

“Right, the Twilight Zone.” Thulu shook his head. “I think we've heard enough. Please have the driver pull over.” He moved as if to reach for the door handle.

“No, you have not heard enough.” The locks snapped down. We froze. “I promised I would not hurt you and I will not, but you will listen until I am done.” There was steel in his voice.