Caitlin Kittredge - Devil's Business

Sliver turned to look at them in the light of the dash. “No offense, but I’m not toeing off against whatever it is that has you two spooked. I’ll be the getaway driver, but you’re on your own.”

“No,” Jack said, trying to settle back against the seat. His skin was vibrating, and his mind was as clear as if he’d just taken a hit of pure crystal. “These bastards are mine.”

“Listen,” Mayhew said after a time, when the radio had faded to nothing but static, country music, and late-night preachers telling them how the world would end, “I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye…”

“You tried your best to fuck me,” Jack said. “But don’t worry, Benji. I’m not going to test your manhood tonight.”

The turn for the ranch loomed up in the cone of the Buick’s headlights and Jack tapped Sliver on the arm. “Just there. Park on this side of the ridge and stay out of sight.”

Mayhew leaned out his window as Jack walked away, boots crunching on the gravel. “What are you going to do?”

A single window was lit in the ranch house, and Jack saw the blue glow of a television through the tattered curtains. He lifted the Sig from his waistband and felt the weight in his hand. It was solid and real, probably the last piece of iron he’d ever touch.

“I’m going to kill every one of those sons of bitches,” he said, then started toward the ranch house.

The void in the Black still existed, but it didn’t cause a spike in his brain. That was Jack before, the Jack who was weak, who felt things and wanted heroin and wished for all of the sights and sounds of the Black to just stop from time to time, so he could rest. This Jack knew there could be no rest until he’d done what he came for.

If he couldn’t use his talent, he’d gamble that Levi and the others couldn’t either. Abbadon was clearly the bright bulb of the group. The others were simply insects attracted to the light.

He mounted the steps, mindful of the loose boards. This part had to go just right, because there were no second chances, and plenty of regrets waiting if he fucked up.

Trying the door, he found the knob locked tight.

He leaned back against the porch rail, bracing himself. Levi would be by the television, and he was too much of a fat fuck to move quickly. Teddy was immobile. That left the little girl as his primary problem—not that he was discounting her. Not that she was actually a little girl.

Jack swung his boot at the door, smashing it so that it banged against the farmhouse wall and tore a chunk from the rotting plaster.

“Hello, you bastards!” he bellowed. “Daddy’s come home at last!”

There was no sound, only the burble of a TV game show from Levi’s room. Jack lifted the Sig and fired a shot into the ceiling, causing more plaster to rain down. “Come on!” he screamed. “You wanted it, so let’s get dirty! Show your ugly fucking faces, cunts!”

A shadow appeared at the top step, and resolved itself into the little girl. She’d traded in her shorts and tee for a dress, blue with small pink sprigs of flowers. Blood streaked the front. Whatever little girl had originally worn that dress was long gone. “Will you keep it down?” she said. “Some of us are trying to get our rest.”

Jack raised the pistol, drew a bead, and fired. His shot went far wide and shattered an old-style lamp bolted to the wall of the upstairs hallway. He was a crap shot, but he didn’t let it bother him. The gun served its purpose.

The little girl didn’t even flinch. “Abbadon said you’d come. With or without him. He told us what to do.”

“Did he, now?” Jack said. The old him would be pissing himself. This him was calculating lines and angles, force and velocity. The Morrigan’s marks didn’t change the fact he was a shit shot, but they were keeping his panic at bay. “Did he happen to tell you to let me have my girlfriend and walk out of here?”

“He said if he didn’t come home we were to kill whoever walked through that door,” the girl said. “Bad luck for you, nasty man.”

She launched herself at Jack, knifelike claws and teeth bared, the black hair she’d kept braided into a rope at her back turning into a riot of bodies, tiny mouths and sharp, lava-glass blades. Jack brought the gun up, swiped it across the side of her head, and knocked her into the banister and then to the hall floor.

She snapped at him, and he whipped her with the gun barrel again, causing a trio of her black blade teeth to fly free.

The girl cowered, howling, and then launched at him again. Jack slipped his hand inside his leather and used it to wrap his fist around her living, writhing hair. He yanked. The girl screamed.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Jack said. “Perhaps if you were a bit nicer, we wouldn’t have to go through this.”

“What are you going to do to me?” she whined. “I’m only a baby. Compared to the rest, I haven’t even done anything really terrible. I’m just a child, and I like to play with things. Live things.” She blinked at him. “Is that so wrong?”

“I’m not going to debate with you, luv,” Jack said. “If it makes you feel better, chalk it up to wrong place, wrong time.” He mimicked Belial’s move at the graveyard and jerked her head to the left by her braid. It was a clean break, quick and fast, her neck going just a bit too far and the gleam of bloodlust fading from her eyes. She wouldn’t wake up quickly here, not on this ground that twisted and corrupted talent and the Black almost beyond recognition.

Jack picked up the pistol and stepped over the body, into the back room.

Levi looked up at him, docile face quivering around the edges. “You.”

“Not the fucking tooth fairy,” Jack agreed. “Where’s Pete?”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t over, you know. You can’t kill things like us. You can’t kill your future, Jack. Sooner or later your little world is going to get devoured, just like the one before it and the one before that. I’m the one doing the devouring. I am the leviathan, and I eat the world.”

Jack put the pistol barrel against Levi’s temple and pressed it in just a bit, until it left a depression in his fatty flesh. “You know what the problem is with all of you ancient types? All the gods and demons and whatever the fuck you are?”

Levi’s labored breathing increased, sounding a bit like a small saw inside his chest. “You can’t kill me. You can’t…”

“The problem is you talk too fucking much,” Jack said, then squeezed the trigger.

There wasn’t as much gore as films had led him to believe. A little blood and a few bits of skull and brain covered the fuzzy telly screen, but the rest matted in Levi’s hair as he slumped sideways in his scooter chair.

Jack left him there and stepped down the hall. Only Teddy left. The best and the worst of the four. Something that could get inside your head didn’t leave you with a lot of options. You couldn’t shoot something that could convince you that you were holding a teddy bear rather than a pistol. You couldn’t reason with something that wanted more than anything to live.

He pushed the door open gently. A child’s mobile lamp sat in the corner, projecting images of carousel horses and clowns onto the stained walls. Teddy still hung in state, hooked up to his IVs and machines.

Pete crouched at his feet, and she looked up at him. He wasn’t the cold Jack in that moment, the Jack who had it all figured out. He dropped the pistol and crouched beside her, cupping her face in his hands. “Have they hurt you?”

Pete shook her head mutely. Her face was streaked with grime and twin rivulets where tears had cut through, but her eyes were dry. “I feel so fucking stupid,” she muttered. “Didn’t even see the bastards who snatched me.”