K Stewart - A Devil in the Details

“If this is so against the rules, why would you risk so much to help me?”

“Maybe I like you.” I rolled my eyes, and he smirked. “Maybe, if I can’t have you, nobody can. I’ve put a lot of work into you, Jesse James Dawson. I’ll be damned again if I let one of the others get you.”

I was more inclined to believe that.

“And just what do you want from me? Nothing you know is worth my soul.” I immediately wanted to kick my own ass. Never enter negotiations with a demon. Don’t even give them two fives for a ten. It starts bad habits, like a gateway drug.

“Not your soul… maybe something smaller, something you can bear to part with. Harmless really.” His smile was oh so charming. If the goose bumps on my arms got any bigger, I was going to sprout feathers.

Voices rose in anger behind me. The parents of the brawling children had apparently taken exception to each other’s existence, and the fathers were shouting obscenities at each other. One of them had on a #1 DAD T- shirt. Two security guards, in their neat blue pseudo-cop uniforms, hustled over to take control of the situation.

“Maybe… a name. Your daughter’s name. Give me that, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

I couldn’t keep my eye on the fight and Axel both, and it was making me edgy. My hand flexed at my hip where my sword should be. “You know her name already.”

“Exactly! No harm in it… Just… give me her name, and I can tell you the things you need to know.”

I may not be a religious man. I may not even be widely educated in the ways of magic. But even I know that the giving of a name, known or not, can have power. Every culture that is or ever was has agreed on that. “No deal. And stay the hell away from my daughter.”

Not ten feet from us, a blonde in line for the women’s restroom drew back her hand and slapped the brunette next to her with a resounding crack. The two went down with shrill screams and the flailing of tanned arms and legs.

“Okay, one of your companions, then. The blacksmith… He’ll never miss it. You have to give me something! You need what I know!” The blond man-demon was all but wringing his good hand in frustration and dancing from foot to foot.

In disbelief, I watched one of the security guards draw a Taser from his belt and jab it into #1 Dad’s ribs. The combative man dropped like a stone, shrieking. The odor of urine wafted over the crowd as he wet himself.

Angry murmurs grew louder all around me, and three large men detached themselves from the swelling throng to descend on the hapless security guards. The women, meanwhile, had rolled into the legs of their line-mates, adding at least three more thrashing, pummeling figures to the chaos. The two conflicts slowly oozed toward each other, a blob that sought to be whole again.

I jerked my head back to the demon in time to see Axel lick his lips in satisfaction. “Such anger… so delicious…”

Realization hit me, as usual, a bit late. “It’s you. You’re doing this.”

“Give me something, and I’ll go away…” The red glow sprang into his eyes again, and I was certain no one would ever notice in the chaos.

A third fight sprang up at the top of the stairs, the combatants tumbling down the concrete walkway into the seats before I could even see if they were male or female. Shouts from below told the tale of the spreading conflict. Dear God and merciful Buddha all in one… It leapt from person to person like a grass fire. And like a grass fire, it would burn as long as it had fuel-an entire baseball stadium full of fuel.

“Are you insane? You’ll start a riot!” I made a grab for Axel’s shirt, and he darted out of my reach faster than humanly possible. We played ring-around-the-rosy around the pillar for a few moments.

“Just a name, one name in exchange for all these people, and information you need… a bargain, really…” He poked his head around the pillar and grinned, caught somewhere between pleading and threatening. “You may as well give me the name. You can’t make me leave…”

“Yes, I can.” My keys had been in my pocket. I didn’t remember getting them out, but they were in my hand now. I thumbed the cap off my mini Mace key chain and took a deep breath. The next time he peered around the column, I depressed the trigger.

I heard Axel shriek once, but with my eyes clenched tight shut I missed his actual exit. There was a faint pop as air rushed in to fill the space he abruptly vacated, and I knew he was gone. The angry shouts around me became startled exclamations, ending up as desperate coughing and gagging. The cloud of cayenne and cumin spread through the violent crowd, turning rage into an instinctive scramble for air and self-preservation.

I held my breath as long as I could, and even then I choked on a cloud of pepper when my body finally demanded oxygen. Eyes watering fiercely, I watched as the remnants of the crowd fled, leaving behind the wounded.

The blonde lay on the cement floor, a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth as she gagged and coughed, too dazed to get out of the demon Mace spray. Her opponent was nowhere to be seen. Leaning against one of the massive support pillars was #1 Dad, keening like a wounded rabbit, cuffed and forgotten in the upheaval. Someone nearby was making horrible retching noises.

I wondered where the security guards went, until a strong hand grabbed my arm. “Sir, you’ll have to come with me.” Well, that’s what he tried to say, under the coughing and choking. I got the gist of it.

Twice in as many days, I had run afoul of security guards. Oh sure. I use a little Mace, banish a demon, break up a potential riot, and I’m the one who gets arrested. Mira was going to kill me. Somewhere, someone was finding this hilarious.

As it turned out, I was not arrested. Given that the fortuitous “breaking” of my Mace canister happened to end a rather ugly situation, the stadium authorities were willing to forgive and forget. I was, however, strongly encouraged to wait for my friends in the holding cell in the bowels of the stadium, and not to come back for the rest of the season. That one hurt. It hurt a lot.

From the conversations I overheard down there, the security guard with the Taser was in deep kimchi, too. Poor guy. I would try to explain to his bosses that he was under demonic influence, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate the help.

Marty and Will, bastards that they were, watched the entire game before they came down to retrieve my scrawny ass. It gave me a lot of time to brood, while pretending to meditate.

Axel had been part of my life for the last two years, give or take. I couldn’t remember exactly when he’d turned up, inhabiting random local fauna, exchanging witty pleasantries over breakfast. But he’d resisted my best efforts to get rid of him. Once his continued presence was established, we’d set limits, laid down ground rules, and I thought no more on it. Not once had I seen him act… well… like a demon. Maybe I’d become complacent, forgetting that there was a fiend of Hell wrapped in whatever little furry body he’d chosen to possess for the day.

The thought chilled me to my very core. That thing had been in my yard. Hell, before Mira warded the entrances, he’d been in my house! He’d been around my family, my friends, my neighbors. What had he whispered to them, in weak moments? What seeds had he planted when I wasn’t looking?

You can’t save the entire world, Jesse. No, dammit, but I could try to save my little part of it.

While my brain slowly worked itself into a short circuit pondering all the what-ifs and mighta-couldas, I was forced to admit that there were worse physical ways to spend an evening. The “cell” was really just a corner of one of the offices, isolated and quiet. There was a cot to lounge or sit on as I chose, and a convenient soda machine. I could hear the game on the radio in the security office, and every so often, one of the guards wandered by to check on me.