The Devil's Secret (23 page)

Thorn sprang to his feet, then leaped with all his might, somersaulting over the top of Hecthes. Using Virgil’s hands, he gripped the head of the human Hecthes occupied; and using his own hands, he gripped Hecthes’s spirit head. He simultaneously twisted both and dropped to the ground.

The sizzling crack of Hecthes’s neck resounded across the spirit realm even more loudly than the crack of his corpse’s neck echoed across the hills of the physical world.

Marcus launched himself at Thorn. The impact was strong enough to send them and their corpses rolling right past the humans. As Thorn grappled with Marcus, trying to fend him off, he saw Donundun sprinting toward them. He couldn’t see where Paxis had gone.

Thorn managed to kick Marcus toward Donundun, but Donundun jumped upward out of his human cadaver just as Marcus and Shannon crashed into it. Then he arced down toward Thorn at full speed.

Thorn ducked sideways, secured himself to Virgil’s body as tightly as he could, and gripped a metal bike rack with Virgil’s hand. Thus anchored to a point in physical space, Thorn was able to catch Donundun’s leg as he fell past him, then swing him around a full 360 degrees…

… right into Marcus. Right into Marcus’s
head
. The spiritual skulls crashed against each other with a sickening
thud
. Both enemies collapsed in front of Thorn, Marcus fully departing Shannon’s corpse as he blacked out.

Thorn grabbed Donundun’s head and twisted it around past its breaking point, killing him. He checked again for Paxis, but neither she nor her human cadaver were anywhere in sight. So Thorn approached Marcus.

The wide-eyed humans watched, rapt. They couldn’t see Marcus, but the fact that Virgil had ostensibly slain three of their attackers had likely left them bewildered. Thorn’s ability to pull it off had surprised him, too. He had no time to dwell on his victory, though. The sun would be rising soon.

Floating on his back just above the ground, Marcus sluggishly raised his hand to the wound on the side of his head. He groaned.

Thorn kicked him in the stomach. Marcus reeled. “Remember a rainy night, three months ago, on a front lawn in suburban Atlanta?” Thorn said in the spirit world, so the humans couldn’t hear. “Remember how weak I was and how strong you were?” Thorn kicked him again.

“Stop!” Marcus cried in agony. “I’ll do anything. Don’t kill me! Please don’t kill me!”

Marcus tried to drift away, but Thorn pursued him. “Do you remember the field in Piedmont Park, when you tricked me into killing Shenzuul so that the Judge would sentence me to die? Do you remember how weak I was and how strong you were?”

Marcus tried to sputter another plea, but Thorn bent forward and clutched him by the neck. With his other hand he delivered a powerful blow to Marcus’s gut.

“Answer me!” Thorn let his rage overflow. He clenched Marcus’s neck even tighter. “Do you remember the poolside by the condo in Miami? Do you remember when you killed me there? How strong you were? How weak I was? ANSWER ME you fucking fool!
Do you remember?
”

“I remember.” Eyes downcast, Marcus ceased all struggle. A pitiful whimper escaped his mouth. He cringed and shook his head.
He knows he’s going to die.

Thorn let the terror sink in for a few more seconds… then released Marcus’s neck. He drifted backward. “This is how someone who’s strong acts toward an enemy who’s weak,” Thorn said.

Marcus glanced up, into Thorn’s eyes. Thorn withdrew even further, and Marcus’s expression of terror became one of awe. He backed away a few cautious feet, as if testing Thorn’s intentions. Then he turned and fled as fast as his wounds would let him. Thorn watched Marcus disappear into the darkness beneath the trees.

Thorn knew that he himself had been given a second chance, thanks both to sheer luck and God’s eccentricities. Even Brandon, a violent rapist in another life, had been given a second chance. And now Marcus had received one as well. A part of Thorn regretted his decision to give Marcus that second chance, but he’d done it regardless.

Something suddenly blocked Thorn’s vision; it was too close for him to discern its identity. Was it a hand? Yes, a hand waving through his head, grasping. A
demon’s
hand.

Thorn turned to see Paxis floating behind him in an attacking posture, trying to grab hold of him. But her hands went right through him, like a human’s would. He reached out a hand to try and touch her… but Virgil’s hand didn’t follow. In fact, Thorn could feel Virgil slipping away from him. He had to focus vigorously just to maintain minimal control over the corpse.
What the hell is happening?

“Welcome to my world,” Thilial said from just above him.

He looked up at her. “What?”

She gestured widely around them and stretched out her wings a bit. “The angelic realm. If I hadn’t just pulled you up here, Paxis would have snapped your neck.” The female demon was still confusedly grasping at Virgil’s head.

“I thought you had to have wings to get up here,” Thorn said, marveling at his surroundings.

“Or someone with wings can take you up here with them.”

The angelic realm. Until less than an hour ago, Thorn hadn’t even known it existed, and yet here he was. Paxis’s spirit had assumed the sepia tones with which Thorn usually viewed the physical realm. And the physical realm seemed distorted now, like he was seeing even close objects from a great distance. He could barely make out the faces of the humans. What a fascinating place this third realm was! From here you could whisper even to other demons, or spy on any conversation!

Or possess a dying Roman emperor and not be seen.

The unbidden thought froze Thorn in place. He started losing his hold on Virgil again. But before he could parse through his old memories as Balthior to consider the implications of his revelation, Thilial brandished her sword and stabbed Paxis through the chest.

“Thilial, no!”

“What? She’s only a demon.”

Thilial touched Thorn lightly, and the demonic realm vibrated back into view around them. She withdrew her sword from a bewildered Paxis.

“Thorn… how?” Paxis croaked, clutching at her gaping wound.

Thorn felt strangely mournful at Paxis’s abrupt demise, perhaps because of their connection earlier tonight, or perhaps because she’d been his follower long ago. “I’m sorry we found ourselves on different sides of this,” was all he could think to say to her.

“I as well,” she wheezed back. “It was all for duty though. Yet now I’m slain, and I’ve died for another demon’s goals. The only thing worse is, I’m afraid that I lived for other demons’ goals, too.” She shook her head, winced. “It wasn’t worth it.”

“Do you know of any other transit doors in this Sanctuary?” Thilial callously asked the dying demon.

“There is one,” Paxis said weakly. “But it’s stuck pretty far up your rear end. Maybe Thorn can crawl up there and find it for you.”

Thorn had to restrain himself from laughing, but Thilial seemed less amused. She grabbed Paxis by the neck, whisked her backward, then hurled her forcefully into the air. With no gravity nor friction to slow her, Paxis’s spiritual body tumbled off into the gloomy night.

“I know of only one transit door besides the one Marcus destroyed, and that one has an army of angels approaching it from the other side.” Her face became grim. She eyed her sword. “There is no way out for you, or for these humans. This is the end of your road.”

Thorn glanced toward the broken transit door in the trees.
We were so close.
“I suppose our agreement has reached its conclusion then,” Thorn said.

With one hand, Thilial raised her sword. “I do not forgive you, Thorn. You are my enemy. I will always remember what you’ve done. And I will aid you no further in any of your goals.”

Thilial sheathed her blade. “But my younger self once chose you out of all the demons in Tugaloo, and she thought that maybe—just maybe—you could change.”

Thorn looked up into her eyes. They remained as cold and stern as ever. But she laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “This is how someone who’s strong acts toward an enemy who’s weak.”

Then she disappeared.

“The voice on the ham radio,” Karen said. “Did you hear that voice? It was him.” She pointed to one of the human corpses sprawled on the ground near the bar. Keeping his distance, Brandon examined the bodies—especially Shannon’s. He felt no relief at the death of Tim’s killer—only bitterness that seemed like it would last forever. What had gotten into the woman?

And what had gotten into Virgil? Brandon kept a good distance away from the middle-aged man, too. He’d been standing still, staring straight ahead for the last couple minutes—ever since he’d unleashed inhuman fury on their attackers and then thrashed at empty space like a lunatic. Maybe Karen was right to be wary of the man.

Heather exited from a hardware store where a section of the storefront glass had been shattered. “I don’t get it. The power’s off in all these buildings, and the phones are all dead. What’s going on?”

“I’ve told you what’s going on, but you won’t believe me,” Karen said.

“Well, I at least believe you that the cops probably aren’t coming. But how were these people able to get on the radio? Especially on such short notice. They had me convinced.”

“I don’t like looking at them,” Karen said, motioning to the dead bodies. “Can we go back to the golf cart?”

“Sure.”

“If the police aren’t coming to us, we’ll have to go to them.”

“No,” said Virgil, breaking his silence and following the three humans toward the landscaped island in the center of the cul-de-sac’s road. “Our best bet now is Brandon’s airplane. That’s where we should go next.”

“Virgil!” Heather said, stepping away from him a bit as they walked. “Welcome back to the land of the living. That was some crazy fighting. What the hell
was
that?”

“I, uh… I did what I had to do to stop them.”

“That’s an understatement. And I thought you were supposedly close to death.”

Karen piled on. “You seemed like you knew those people who attacked us. Knew why they were doing this.”

Karen, Brandon, and Heather climbed into the golf cart, the newlyweds in back. But when Virgil tried to climb in next to Karen, she shooed him away. “Uh-uh. Not until you explain what’s going on.”

Virgil glanced toward Heather and Brandon as if hoping they’d defend him. But Brandon wasn’t about to speak up. Not after the startling display he’d just seen.

Virgil grimaced. “Fine. I guess it’s apparent by now that I know more about tonight’s events than I’ve let on,” he said. “But I’ve been trying to stop those people. And I
did
stop them. We’re safe now. We just need to get out of here. Fast. The plane is the best way to do that.”

“Hold your horses,” Karen said. “That’s it? You owe us a long, long explanation.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Virgil groaned.

“We do on our way to the plane,” Heather said. Then to Karen: “I admit that you were right not to trust Virgil, but that doesn’t make his advice wrong. The hangar’s a lot closer than the police station. If we can fly ourselves to safety, let’s do it.”

“You’re going to listen to
him
?” Karen said. “Does he seem mentally stable to you?”

“Do any of us?” Heather asked.

Karen placed her arms akimbo, scanning the shops and streetlights in the vicinity, and frowned. “He’s a demon, I’m telling you. Virgil is a
demon
. It’s plain as day, and we shouldn’t trust him. He’s trying to keep us away from the safety that the Lord wants for us tonight. Look, I’ve prayed about it. We should go to the police station.”

“Goddammit, stop arguing and just drive!” Brandon said, startling the other three. Even Virgil looked surprised by the sudden outburst, and Heather rubbed her husband’s arm reassuringly. “We’ll watch him from back here,” Brandon continued, trying to calm his voice. “If he tries anything, we’ll push him off the cart or something.”

Karen pursed her lips and shook her head. But she started the golf cart. Virgil climbed in beside her, and then they were off.

Both women grilled Virgil for the first few minutes of the drive, but he proved to be remarkably skilled at deflecting their questions. He answered with a simple yes or no as often as he could, and when pressed for details, he kept his answers vague.

Brandon watched the exchange in silence. Seeing Karen and Heather working together like this, despite their disagreements, seemed almost as strange to him as the rest of the night’s events. In fact, it made Brandon slightly uncomfortable, since the two women had been at each other’s throats all night, ever since that awful pre-wedding argument.

Looking back now, Brandon couldn’t really blame either woman for their fierce debate. They’d both just wanted to help him, in their own ways. And in the wake of the massacre, their arguments seemed less substantial than they had at the time. Still, Brandon had been furious…

With minutes until the wedding, and all the groomsmen dressed their sharpest, Marissa Putnam had burst into the men’s dressing room to warn Brandon that Pastor Noyce was chastising Heather in the women’s. Brandon had immediately bolted through the church’s back hallways to rescue his bride.

At the women’s dressing room, he found the bridesmaids, all women from the church, waiting outside the door. They wore conflicted expressions. Brandon knew they essentially agreed with Karen’s appraisal of the bride, but to their credit, none of them wanted to ruin Brandon’s wedding. One even apologized to him as he slipped past them into the dressing room.

Brandon entered behind the two women and was struck by Heather’s simple yet elegant white dress, tinted orange by the light of the setting sun slanting through the windows.

“He’s like a son to me!” Karen was saying. “I’ve helped Tim raise him from a rough-and-tumble kid to the mature and responsible adult we sent off to college. And you ruined that. You ruined
him
!”

Heather stepped toward the pastor, nearly tripping in her high heels. “All I did was help him to think. The guy I met was lost, looking for answers that this church had never provided for him—
could
never provide for him! Every time he asked you for answers, you just told him to pray about it, or referred him to a C. S. Lewis book, and that was that. He was trying to open his eyes for the first time, and I loved that. I loved
him
. I’d been there myself, so yes, I helped him!”