Resurrection

Chapter Nineteen

“I don’t care what you say, I’m not kissing that!” Veronica’s lips were screwed into a tight pucker of disgust, her hands planted on her hips.

“But he knows where Reven is.” I held up Chatterbox, whose petulant smile ran from ear to ear. The fact that most of his cheeks had rotted away helped, but he was no doubt just as interested in Veronica’s kiss as she was in avoiding his.

“Kiiissssyyyppooo, poooooo, kiiiiiiisssssss,” he muttered, his tongue lolling.

“It’s bad enough I had to carry it here, but if you think I’m putting my mouth anywhere near that thing, you can go fuck a dread fiend. Now, get that nasty-”

Baalth growled, his voice like two tectonic plates colliding. “Do it.”

She snarled and met the demon’s turbulent eyes. The rumbling aftershock of his anger quelled her revolt in an instant. Head hung low, she turned back to me.

“Are you sure he knows?”

I held Chatterbox out to her. “He’s still animated, which means the link to his master is still active. He might not know where he is on a conscious level, but he feels the pull of Reven’s will, and that’ll lead us right to our missing necro.”

Veronica rocked back and forth, mustering the fortitude to follow Baalth’s order. She didn’t want to do it, and while I certainly understood why, we weren’t sitting on a font of options. If we were gonna find Reven in time to keep Longinus from being raised, we needed to get on it. There wasn’t time for her squeamish reluctance. I gave her a stern look and wiggled Chatterbox in front of her.

Her cheeks flushed bright red as she roughly snatched the gibbering head from my hands. “You so fucking owe me for this.”

“Don’t fool yourself. This doesn’t even come close to making us even.” I met her graveyard stare with one of my own. Backed up by Baalth, I was feeling bold. I’d have to watch my back later, but right then, I was King of the World. The best part was she knew it, too.

Muttering something guttural behind clenched teeth, she broke off the staring match, her gaze drifting down to Chatterbox. The red drained from her cheeks a second later, a subtle green tinge replacing it. Not much for romance, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and dove in.

There was a soft squish as Veronica’s mouth collided with the head’s and I saw her tense up, no doubt fighting the instinct to vomit. I could see Chatterbox’s eyes light up, his flickering tongue visible through the holes in his decayed cheek. It looked like an epileptic caterpillar, twitching back and forth, burrowing deep into Veronica’s mouth. He was getting his undead groove on.

Behind us, I heard a moist splash and looked up to see the battered Marcus bent over double, spewing into the clouds. Freed from Lilith’s hold by Baalth’s brute force, magical reorientation, compounded by my not-so-gentle rearrangement of his face, I was surprised he was even conscious, let alone able to stand and realize what was going on. It gave me a newfound respect for his endurance, even if I could never respect him as a man. He was one tough bastard.

For that matter, they all were. Beside him, barely able to stand, but doing it nevertheless, was McConnell, torn stitches and all. His shaggy head was turned to the side and he stared off into the fog, not interested in following Marcus’s vomitory lead. Of the three, only Poe held his ground steady. His face was a mask of cold indifference, though even he seemed to look without seeing, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

I’m not sure what that says about me, but I was all about watching. I can’t say it turned me on, even as depraved as I am, but somewhere deep down, somewhere dark and vindictive, a part of me cheered like I’d won the lottery. It was a petty part, but I’m at peace with my faults.

My amused attention returned to the show just in time to see Chatterbox’s eyes go dim, the remaining leathery flesh on his face pulling tight as Veronica fed on his energy. His tongue waggled to a stop and withdrew into his cavernous mouth, as she asserted her will.

The contest over, Veronica pulled away with a gasp, dropping the head into the clouds as she stumbled back. A moment later, she too christened the roiling fog with vomit. Sepulchral heaves rattled her ribs as she retched, her body wracked with trembling spasms. It wasn’t pretty.

With surprising restraint considering his recent mood, Baalth stood there quiet as she emptied her gut, his hands clenched into tight fists. Agitated sparkles of energy fluttered around them, like lightning bugs after a summer storm, but there was no other sign of his displeasure. A few moments later, Veronica still struggling to regain control, he at last turned his searing gaze to me.

“As promised, our pact is fulfilled.”

With a snap of his fingers a contract appeared, floating in the air before us. I had just long enough to recognize the mark at the bottom of it before it burst into reddish flames. Within seconds it was nothing more than willowy ash, fluttering down in wispy spirals of black and gray. However dramatic it sounds, I felt a weight lifted from my shoulders.

“Now, for the rest of our arrangement-” He reached a hand out to me, his palm glowing scarlet.

I took a quick step back, avoiding it. “Hold on a second.”

His lip curled into a sneer and I felt the ground beneath me sway. The look in his dark eyes was murderous. He leaned in close, roaring, “You dare-”

“No, no, no. It’s not like that.” I waved my hands frantically to keep him from killing me before I could explain. “It’s just if I walk out of here stronger than when I came in, Lilith will know something is up.”He glared at me for a moment before his features softened, the fury in his eyes abating. His upper lip quivered for a heartbeat longer, before settling into a mirthless grin. His anger in check, he nodded for me to continue.

I did, as quickly as I could get the words out. “For whatever reason, she wants me dead. She’s already set me up twice and I’ve managed to walk away both times. I’m hoping she’ll be so pissed off when I reappear this time she’ll want to do the job herself. But if I pop up on her senses glowing like a Christmas tree, she’s gonna know better than to come after me. I need her to think she’s still got the upper hand.”

Baalth stared at me for a moment longer, pondering what I’d told him. Then suddenly, his eyes lit up and a crooked smile flattered his lips. “I’ve a solution that suits both our needs.”

He held his glowing hand out, the building energy shimmering as though it were alive. It danced and swirled about his palm, pulling together into a dense mass, roughly the size of a baseball. As it pulsed and throbbed, it cast off tiny red sparks, its mass condensing more every second until it was no larger than a pencil eraser. Shrunk down, he passed it to me.

A bit hesitant to take it, torn between the need to trick Lilith into coming after me and the desire for power, I gave in to the latter.

Greed is an amazing motivator. I’d never have another opportunity like this one. It was the quintessential offer I couldn’t refuse.

Its magical warmth caressed my hand as the tiny ball settled in my palm. I just stared at it for a moment, its power slapping against my senses like storm-driven waves against a tide wall. Baalth had told me he’d pass on a portion of his power, but I’d expected it to be a trifling amount, never thinking he’d be too generous. Given our history of butting heads, he surprised me.

Contained inside the tiny sphere was more mystical energy than I could have imagined possessing, at least in any realistic way since I’d turned down my uncle’s offer of Anti-Christ. It wasn’t enough to tip the balance in any sort of cosmic way, and it definitely wasn’t anything compared to what Baalth still held, but it would be one hell of a boost; a satisfying one, for sure.

Now, with it in my grasp, I began to second guess my plan, wondering what I could do to Lilith with my newfound magic. Images filled my head of the potential carnage I could wreak upon her, the ruin I could bring to the backstabber who’d betrayed my uncle and who’d set me up to die. There was no bottom to the well of inventive agonies my sudden inheritance inspired. Baalth, however, apparently not interested in letting me revel in the moment, yanked me from my delusional tangent with a perverse command.

“Swallow it.”

Sudden flashbacks of prison assailed me. “Woah there, buddy. I’m all for helping a guy out, in times of need, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

He was not amused. Limbo seemed to teeter, the clouds almost frantic, feeding off his agitation. “Until you ingest it, it’s nothing more than an extension of my power.” He grabbed my shoulder in a painful vise and pulled me in close, our noses nearly touching. His breath was hot and musky. “Once in your possession, inside you, I am freed of its burden. Now swallow it before I find a more creative way of honoring our bargain.”

Cursed with a vivid imagination, I took the first option. Head tilted back, I tossed it in my mouth and swallowed my reluctance along with the sphere. It tickled as it slid down my throat, fleeting electrical sparks striking off in its wake, goose bumps exploding across my arms. I felt it hit my stomach with a heavy thump, lighting it up like an overdose of orange juice and napalm, before calming a few seconds later.

The unexpected side effect of ingesting such a powerful dose of pure magical energy was that my wounds began to heal. I stared in surprise at my injured side as the flesh rippled and began to pull together, the same happening to the gash along my skull. It wasn’t anywhere near as fast a process that occurred under the influence of my uncle’s blood, but it was still amazing it happened at all outside of a soul transfer. Until then, only God and Lucifer had had the mastery to work such a miracle as true healing. The realization that Baalth could now be counted among their number was terrifying.

Feeling a little weird about the whole experience, rattled by my comprehension of Baalth’s power, I looked at him and tried to smile. “Sorry. I’m not usually on the receiving end, know what I mean?”

He shook his head, dismissing me, but I could see the relief in his weary eyes. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs before letting it out slowly. Then suddenly, without warning, he winced, his jaw clenching for just a second. The tenseness faded so fast I wasn’t sure I’d seen it at all, his manner remaining composed.

“Damn it,” he whispered, his voice fading off like distant thunder.

Apparently the transfer hadn’t been enough. Though his face no longer showed any expression, no sign of his torment, his plan to bleed off his excess power had obviously failed. Even with my senses reined in and tucked tight, Baalth’s aura still glowed like a fiery sun, way too close to going supernova. I hadn’t expected a major change in his magical presence, but I figured there’d be some discernable difference. There wasn’t any. The realization sent a chill down my spine. He was still the only god left among men.

I thought about offering to take a little more power off his hands, but I didn’t think he’d respond too kindly of the suggestion. Our first deal was born of necessity, desperation even, but things had changed. In an unguarded moment he’d shown weakness, letting me see the truth of his condition. Though he made good on his word, he would never let me capitalize on his vulnerability again.

You don’t get to the top of the demonic food chain by empowering your enemies, and that’s all we were. No matter how chummy we could be on occasion, how interdependent we seemed, we each knew our place. Mine wasn’t to ask for anything not freely given.

Besides, I wasn’t even sure I could handle all the power I’d been gifted, let alone more. I didn’t have any interest in ending up like Baalth; a bubbling volcano on the verge of a major eruption. Though things didn’t turn out as planned, we’d both have to settle for the cards dealt. All-in-all, I got the better hand, but it wouldn’t mean much if Baalth couldn’t contain the power eating away at him. It also wouldn’t mean anything if Lilith could sense the magic nestled in my gut.

“I know this is probably a bad time to ask, but will Lilith be able to detect this?” I rubbed my stomach, not quite comfortable with the warm, leaden lump buried inside it.

Listless, Baalth muttered a quiet no. “Though excised from me, it has yet to be absorbed. It will remain inside you until such time as you willfully accept it.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine, a somber reticence swirling in them. “Be warned, however, the experience is…overwhelming.”

As I’d been through a couple of soul transfers, I had a vague idea of what he meant. I’d also watched as Baalth absorbed Glorius’s grossly inflated power, its grandeur bringing even him to his knees. Though I doubted the feelings could ever compare to that, all things considered, the scale was still relative. It was gonna knock me on my ass.

I nodded to Baalth, thanking him.

He waved it off. “Despite our obligations being concluded, I presume you will continue in your hunt for the necromancer, to satisfy your keepers at DRAC?”

While I didn’t like the way he phrased it, he knew Abraham would keep me working toward his best interest because it was DRAC’s as well. He just wouldn’t have to pay me for it. I sighed and confirmed it. No sense lying to either of us.

“Veronica will go with you, of course, but Poe will accompany you as well.” He motioned them over, Veronica wiping incessantly at her mouth while Poe politely ignored her doing so.

I knew I’d have to put up with the ex-after the kiss, that was gonna be a real pleasant experience-but I hadn’t counted on Baalth’s mentalist tagging along. Capable of keeping in contact with both Veronica and Baalth, at all times, I wasn’t sure if having him there was gonna be a benefit or liability. I did know it wasn’t being done to make things easier for me. It never was. But it was okay. DRAC had its own telepaths.

“Fine,” I agreed. “I figure you’ll be easy enough to reach, should you be needed?” While a bit childish of me, I didn’t want Baalth to think he’d slipped something by.

He chuckled, looking almost like his usual self. “I’ve masked Poe so Lilith cannot detect his energies.” He gestured toward his other two goons, and in whirl of darkness, they disappeared. He looked back to me with eyes a blazing. “Should Lilith come to harm during your mission, I would be most appreciative.” With that, he too vanished in a cloud of inky black vapors, the subtle tang of brimstone tickling my nose.

Suddenly feeling the withering glare that prickled my spine, I looked to Veronica, her blue eyes icy. The vein at her temple danced to the beat of angry drums. She was pissed. Out of reflex, I tried to deflect.

“Hey, I’m not the one who made you do it.”

“You might as well have,” she spit back. “I don’t know why Baalth caters to you, but one of these days your preferential treatment is going to come to an end. When it does, I’m going to put my foot so far up your ass you’ll be able to taste my knee.”

Painful visual aside, she was handling it all better than I thought she would. Rather than risk aggravating her further, knowing damn well she’d make good on her promise, I chose the better part of valor and kept my big mouth shut.

I picked Chatterbox from out of the fog and lifted him up where he could see. His squirmy eyes were glazed, subdued, and they tracked on Veronica like a lovelorn puppy. He was quiet and pensive, nothing like himself. I didn’t like it. There’d be no metal serenades today.

Maybe when everything was said and done, I’d get my singing buddy back. Of course, considering what I had in mind to do next, I might not have to worry about that. I might be dead.

Rather than dwell on the grim likelihood of my future, I went to work. “You passed on my message exactly as I gave it to you?”

“Of course,” she huffed.

“Good. Then let’s get going.”

Veronica glared at me a moment, then shifted her gaze to Chatterbox. Her repulsion colored her face, seeping out like mercury in her voice. “Lead us to Reven.”

“Folllllloooooowww meeeeeeeee, meeeeee, eeeeee,” he answered immediately. Though incapable of independent movement, the whole lacking a body thing, he made it clear which way we needed to go. His slippery tongue jetted from his mouth and wiggled in the direction of the portal we’d used to enter Limbo.

At the sight of it, Veronica stormed off looking nauseous while I followed along lugging Chatterbox, Poe silently bringing up the rear. We looked a ragtag bunch: an angry ex-wife, a battered mentalist, and me, the white sheep of the black family. I could think of a handful of people I’d rather have at my side, but beggars can’t be choosers. In the end, I was likely marching off to my death.

Did it really matter which side killed me?