Justin Gustainis - Those Who Fight Monsters Tales of Occult Detectives

“There we go,” Noel said. He was just out of eyesight, but I heard him drop the pouch, then open and close another drawer. He said, “This next part’s going to sting a little.”

That’s when he plunged a dagger into my stomach.

Shock hit me more than the pain. Steel can’t kill me, even though getting stabbed with a foot-long curved blade hurts worse than an angel’s blessing. But the notion that this mortal man had actually stabbed me stunned me into silence. How dare he? Sure, he was a serial killer who performed human sacrifices as a matter of course, so that should have been a tip-off he had a pair of balls on him … but still . The nerve!

The thought took me all of a second — long enough for Noel to pull the blade out of me and step back. And that’s when I felt the magic snap like electricity. A hungry buzz filled the air, the sound of flies over a corpse.

Right, all done with playing along.

I reached within me for my infernal power, ready to overwhelm Noel Le Noir with lust and then ride him until his bones broke and I sucked out his soul.

Except nothing happened.

Ignoring the agony in my belly and the sweat on my brow, I tried again. And again, nothing happened.

What the fuck…?

“Sorry about stabbing you before we got to the good part,” Noel said, sounding quite cheerful. “But if it’s any consolation, I promise to fuck you silly after you’re dead.”

Terrific.

“I said I’d show you magic, right? Well, the circle you’re in just sealed, thanks to me spilling your blood. It’s a magic circle, honey. The circle negates evil magic. So nothing evil in it can get out.”

My mouth dropped open. Screw me on Salvation Day, Noel wasn’t a fraud after all. Thanks to his fucking spell, I had no power while I was trapped in the circle. Why couldn’t I sense his magical ability?

And how did he know I was a demon?

“You’re perfect,” said Noel. “Those legs … those tits. Ah, man, those tits. You’re just the right sacrifice for the demon I mean to summon.”

Back the truck up. Summon a demon?

“Sweetie,” I said — okay, croaked, but give me a break, I’d been stabbed in the stomach and was bleeding and in a lot of pain — “what’re you talking about?”

“I traffic with demons,” he said proudly. “I get power in exchange for souls. Magic. Stock tips. Fashion advice. All I have to do is kill someone and leave the offering in the circle, and then my demon sponsor gives me goodies after I summon him. So I had to sacrifice you, Jesse. I hear Hell’s lovely this time of year. I bet you’ll love it there.”

Actually, I did. But that was beside the point.

“Listen, Noel, you’re obviously not in your right mind.” Fuuuuuuuuck, it hurt to talk. And because I was in a magic-free circle, I couldn’t even heal myself. Stupid magic spell. “Demons are the big, bad evil. Whatever you summon is going to steal your soul.” Unless I could steal it first.

“I’ve been doing this for years, Jesse. I’m not worried. Especially because I’m not the one in the circle.” He grinned, a predator’s smile I normally would have admired. “Seems like your soul’s the one in jeopardy.”

It would be, if I had a soul. “You’re making a mistake,” I gritted. “And the demon you summon will destroy you.”

“Uh-huh. I’d say that’s what they all say, except by now they’re usually dead or too busy dying to bother with talking.” He sighed. “This much spirit in you, you must be phenomenal in the sack.”

“Oh, I am. Why don’t you come here and find out yourself?”

“Sorry, honey. Can’t break the circle. Now you hush up and go ahead and die while I summon the demon, okay?”

I clenched my teeth against the pain throbbing from my stomach. “Demons don’t care for being called like dogs. Tends to make them grumpy. Even if you get one to serve you now, it’ll come after you when you’re not looking.”

“Talk, talk, talk.” Noel grabbed something off the nightstand — his pentagram necklace. “This is a Shield against Evil, honey. No demon can harm me while I wear it.”

No freaking way . Really? That stupid thing was real? “You probably want to put that on, so that the demon you summon won’t, you know, slaughter you.” No way was I letting another one of the nefarious kill him. That would be my job when I got out of here.

“Unfortunately, the shieldstone blocks my magic. So, no wearing it for me right now.”

Satan spare me. Daun had been right.

“It’s sweet of you to be concerned, though.” Noel smiled down at me. “Don’t worry. Between the circle, which will hold the demon, and my shieldstone for when I’m done, I’m completely safe. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a creature of the Pit to summon.”

I didn’t know which was worse: me being captured by a mortal with intentions of magical grandeur, or Daunuan being right.

Even before the chanting stopped, the shadows had pulled together until there was a black mass hovering over me. It stretched and filled out, taking on the shape of an obscenely well-muscled man. Skin the hue of burnished copper. Hairless. Wonderfully naked, but his most important muscle was covered by a leather apron.

Only one demon made it a point to wear a workman’s apron of tanned human skin: Baruel, so-called Master of All Arts. He was a creature of Pride, one of Lust’s natural enemies. Baruel was also an asshole, but that had nothing to do with him being one of the Arrogant. He was one of Hell’s elite, and as befitted any infernal Lower Down, he had an ego that dwarfed Mount Everest.

Baruel would have no qualms about destroying me; it was a Pride thing.

Snarling, I struggled against the handcuffs, to no avail. Think, Jesse. There’s got to be a way out of this that didn’t end with my severed head on a silver platter.

Baruel loomed over me, his red eyes glowing with malefic presence. He took in my naked, bleeding mortal form, then squinted and looked past the temporary shell. He sneered, baring his fangs. “Magician!” he boomed. “You dare to disgrace me with this paltry offering?”

“Hey now,” Noel said, affronted. “She’s sexy and dying. What’s wrong with that?”

“She’s even lower than mortals! Her kind are nothing more than clap-carrying, pox-ridden dogs!”

I could almost hear Noel’s brain try to process the demon’s words. He said slowly, “You mean she’s … a prostitute?”

“No, you ass,” I sighed. “He means I’m a succubus.”

The confused look on Noel’s face would have been funny if not for (A) me being trapped in his magic circle, (B) me still bleeding and in pain, and (C) a demon of Arrogance standing over me with murder in his eyes.

“I’ll destroy you for this insult, Noel Le Noir,” Baruel promised, his voice rumbling like doom. “I’ll make a new apron out of your hide.”

Noel raised his weak chin and declared: “You can do nothing to me, demon. You’re bound by the circle. You can’t break it.”

Easy for him to say. He was safely outside of the circle. Anyone can taunt a tiger when it’s on the other side of the bars.

Baruel smiled slowly, stretching his mouth impossibly wide. Then he leaned over until he was at the edge of our prison, and he blew out a breath. The candlelight flickered … and part of the salt outline of the circle vanished. The hum of magic sputtered and died.

Yes! Score one for evil! I grinned as I felt my power surge through me. Now at least I had a fighting chance.

Poor Noel looked like he’d just crapped in his boxers. “You can’t, ” he stammered. “The circle…!”

Baruel cracked his huge knuckles. “I’m the Master of All Arts. I taught you more about magic in a dozen years than other humans can learn in a dozen lifetimes. Do you really think I don’t know how to break a human magician’s circle?”