Ann Aguirre - Blue Diablo

“I didn’t take her,” Kel said quietly. “I killed the man who did. By which, I averted a worse future than you can imagine. If God’s Hand had walked on earth at the right time, there would have been no Holocaust.”

Chance and I exchanged a look. How do you argue with crazy? Well, you don’t, if you’re smart and you have two friends lying helpless and de-souled in the bedroom. I played along.

“Why didn’t you attempt to defend yourself at your trial?”

“There are laws against vigilantes,” he answered. “And I am a killer. With my DNA at that crime scene... and others, they would have incarcerated me, regardless. But such walls cannot hold me. It was an inconvenience, a delay, nothing more.”

Given that he stood in Chuch’s living room, I couldn’t argue that.

“He makes a good point,” I said to Chance.

The funny thing was, Butch didn’t growl once. He lay curled up on a couch cushion, fast asleep. That reassured me more than anything, which established my state of mind. At this point I trusted a Chihuahua’s judgment more than my own.

Chance eyed me as if he wondered whether I’d snapped. “Does he?”

“If you really mean to help, we need some guarantee that you won’t hurt us.” I didn’t think he could be offended by that simple truth.

Ferguson’s pale gaze roved the room and then appeared to fix on an ornate wood crucifix hanging down the hall. Wordlessly he took it down and dropped to one knee. “I swear by His grace that I will not harm you or yours while we are united in this fight.”

By his expression Chance didn’t think too much of Ferguson’s promises, but we both knew such things had weight. I decided to give Kel some rope.

“We’re planning an assault on a warlock’s lair tomorrow. He’s likely to have an army of shadows like the two you vanquished today, and maybe worse stuff for us to wade through before we get near him. To be honest, our chances don’t look good. We’re light on manpower, firepower, and every other kind of power. Is that really what you came for?”

He nodded, as if I hadn’t said a single surprising thing. “God sent me.”

After exchanging a look with me, Chance shook his head as if we were all crazy. That was when I knew we weren’t calling the cops, at least not until everything went down tomorrow. What happened after we stormed the compound on Halstead Creek Road was anyone’s guess.

“Well,” Chance said. “Welcome aboard. What can you do?”

“This,” the maniac said, and the living room lit up like a star gone nova.

Five minutes later, my eyes still stung from the flare. “That’ll take care of the shadows. We already know they don’t react well to light. But there might be other enemies we haven’t even seen yet.”

“I have something in mind,” Chance said. His smile alarmed me.

In response to his gesture, I followed Chance back out to the garage while keeping a careful eye over my shoulder as well. I didn’t like having Kel behind me. But he didn’t seem inclined to sit in the living room and watch TV.

Despite seeing his holy smite-light, I couldn’t get past the fact that he had killed. Maybe those people would have made a different choice down the road, assuming he was telling the truth. Maybe something would have happened to redeem them. I didn’t trust the uncompromising quality of his judgment. I didn’t want to believe anything was set in stone.

Because I didn’t have much to lose at this point, I asked, “How can you punish someone for something that hasn’t happened yet? How is that fair?”

Pausing, Chance shot me a look. “Maybe we could talk philosophy another time?”

I finished the cautionary lecture myself. Are you crazy? He lit up the living room like the Fourth of July. Don’t antagonize him.

A valid point. If I recollected Booke’s crash course in hermetic magick, wizards possessed power over the elements while warlocks worked with demons and death. So if he wasn’t a holy warrior, Kel might be an unhinged wizard who killed people who looked at him funny. We didn’t need any more enemies, and right now we appeared to be on the same side. I felt dirty for allowing that.

This whole situation was pretty messed up, no other way around it. I wondered if it ever occurred to Chance to walk away. Just leave Min to her fate. But I wasn’t sure that would get this crazy son of a bitch off our backs at this point. We’d come too far and poked around too much. People who wielded this kind of power, no matter its origin, didn’t take kindly to being thwarted.

Nothing in my life had prepared me for this. Even knowing there were bad things didn’t measure up. Holy shit, I was a lobster, neck deep in boiling water, and reflecting that the bacon bits in the trap really hadn’t been worth it.

The washer buzzed. What a funny, ordinary sound.

“Your laundry’s done,” Kel said mildly.

Smothering a nervous laugh, I crossed to the washer, popped the top, and loaded my wet stuff into the dryer. Chance crossed the shadowed garage and uncovered a stack of boxes. Inside we found an astonishing array of weapons. I could’ve started a small war with what Chuch had stored casually out here. Rummaging, I found a flamethrower, a crate of grenades, several AKs, and assorted ammunition. I might be able to make use of the grenades; I used to pitch a pretty mean game of softball.

“Just what the hell did Chuch do before he became a mechanic?” I asked.

“Arms dealer,” said Ferguson, as if he read from an invisible scroll of our secret sins. “Mostly to Nicaragua. He retired when he met Eva.”

I glanced at Chance for confirmation, and his expression revealed a shocked horror that told me our nutty new ally must’ve been right on the money. Shit. We might really have God’s Hand on our side. That scared me more than a simple maniac.

Heaven help us.

Oh, crap, it already had.

None of us slept that night.

Hey, I defy anyone to sleep with the likes of Kel in close proximity. Even if I didn’t suspect he stabbed ice picks through people’s eyes, I would’ve found his intensity disturbing. And his eyes... well, on the surface, they glittered like frost, but if I gazed at them too long, the ice began to look like fire. Maybe I was as crazy as him, but I started to feel he actually might not be human.

Before we left, Chance redid the wards after a consultation with Booke. The Englishman gave us his phone number and promised to stand ready if we had questions for him. Despite the grimness of the situation, the idea of having a hermetic scholar on call amused me. Last thing, I fed Chuch and Eva some crushed ice, hoping that would tide them over until we returned. If we did.

“If you don’t hear from us within four hours,” I said to Booke, “call the authorities. Have them send paramedics to the house. Maybe modern medicine can save them where we fail. You have Chuch’s address?”

“Just a moment; let me fetch a pen.” Pause. “Very well, go on. I hope it won’t come to that,” he added, sounded worried.

“Me too. Wish us luck.”

“You have it,” Booke said. “He’s there by your side.”

True enough. We didn’t say good-bye. That might be a bad omen. I hung up and set the cordless handset back on its cradle to charge.

“Will you keep watch over them?” I asked Butch.

He barked twice.

“Oh, no. You can’t come with me.” The Chihuahua didn’t look convinced. In the end, I fed him, took him out to do his business, and then left him to play guard dog, whether he liked it or not. “If you hear anything suspicious, dial 911.”

Butch cocked his head at me. Sometimes I felt like he understood me completely, word for word. I needed to go home. Clearly the stress was making me nuts.