Demonicus (Overworld Underground Book 2) (3 page)

Carswell pressed a hand to his chest. "Yes, sir." He turned to his team. "Continue your sweeps outside."

Moments later, the room was empty except for the four of us.

I touched each of the bodies. All wore employee badges, two were vampires, and not a one of them still had a soul. I determined the same thing about the other bodies in the room and relayed the information to George Walker.

"In all my years, I've seen only a couple of cases of missing souls, and those were because of an incubus named Vaedaemos." Geroge cut the rope binding the bodies together. "Daemos can devour souls, but from what I've heard, the victim must agree to it."

Tyler frowned. "That's true for demons too." He shook his head. "It can't be compelled. A person has to truly give up their soul." He ran a hand through his thick hair.

"What about possession?" I asked.

"Those rules are a little easier to work around." Tyler folded his arms. "People who don't care for their bodies typically open themselves up to possession. Sometimes you can tempt your way in."

I repressed a grimace. During our vacation time, Tyler had refused to talk much about his past. What he'd told me before had been couched in generalities, but I knew he'd been a very bad boy.

"I wonder why only one person in the middle had a white robe," Tyler said. "Maybe he was part of a cult."

"Tell me more about this demonicus," George said.

Tyler opened his mouth to speak when the doors at the rear of the warehouse opened and Carswell and his group entered. The moment they stepped across the threshold, sparks flashed across the back wall like a lit fuse, racing all the way to the back right corner of the room. The floor there began to bubble like tar.

"We tripped a ward!" Carswell shouted.

"That was a demon ward," Tyler said. His eyes widened. "I hope to God your people can fight."

"Weapons free," George called.

Carswell and his people drew silver swords and formed a line just as something crawled from the inky mass on the floor.

I gasped as the creature stepped into the light. With at least a dozen legs coated in shiny black chitin, it stood as tall as a Great Dane. Each leg bristled with spiky fur and terminated in pointy spikes that clinked with every step. The monster unleashed a screech that nearly sent my skin crawling off my body.

"Oh, shit." Tyler backed away. "That's a crawler."

It skittered toward Carswell's team.

"A very descriptive name," I said in a dry tone. "What, precisely, does it do besides crawl and turn my knees to jelly?"

"Scuttles, shrieks, and devours souls."

"Can we squash it?" I asked.

"I have a better suggestion." Tyler cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Run!"

"Hold your ground!" Carswell commanded his people. "Prepare to engage with lancers."

The creature closed to within several yards of the Custodians.

Carswell swung forward his arm. "Fire!"

Silver darts whistled through the air and pinged off the crawler's armor.

"You can't kill that thing with darts and swords," Tyler said. "Its armor is too tough."

Sticks removed two short rods from within his suit and raced toward the monster. He leapt, brandished the rods in each hand, and flicked them. They extended to thick staffs, each one with a curving blade at the end. The crawler shrieked and pounced. Sticks whirled his staffs and somehow knocked the creature aside in mid-air.

The crawler's claws scraped across the concrete like nails on a chalkboard, drawing sparks and making the hairs on my head stand on end. Sticks was on the creature almost immediately, staffs blurring, chitin flying as he hacked away at the tough armor.

"He's not going to win," Tyler said.

"Is there anything we can do?" George asked.

Tyler bit his lip. "Crawlers have a soft spot we might be able to exploit, but it'll be tricky."

"Just tell me what to do," George said.

"No." Tyler shook his head. "Let me try." He stepped toward the battle.

I grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy? You don't even have a weapon."

"If this works, I won't need one." He patted my hand. "I'll be fine."

Before I could argue with him, he easily slipped out of my grasp and raced toward Sticks and the crawler.

Unable to simply sit back and watch, I followed.

George moved swiftly to block my path. "Miss Glass, perhaps you should remain here."

"Out of my way." I glared at him.

"Mr. Rock possesses superhuman reflexes, which may preserve his life." He raised an eyebrow. "What if you get in the way and cause him to hesitate at a critical moment?"

I hadn't thought about that. From the way the crawler leapt back and forth like a giant jumping spider, it was likely I would get pounced if I went anywhere near it. "Fine."

"Don't worry. I have Arcanes on the way to help."

"Those are the witches and wizards?" I asked.

He returned a grim smile. "Something like that."

Tyler yelled instructions to Sticks. "Let me lure it away. I'll let it think it has me. When it goes to feed, it'll open its armor and shoot a tube at me. That's when I need you to strike, okay?"

Sticks batted aside a needle-sharp crawler leg, spun, and sliced through the appendage where he'd weakened the chitin. Sweat trickled down his forehead. He glanced at Tyler and nodded.

Tyler shouted and waved at the crawler. Sensing easier prey, it leapt toward him. Rather than fight it, Tyler backed away slowly, like a cornered animal.

I could barely stand to watch. I felt powerless. Hopeless. The man I loved was about to be devoured by a creature of Hell and I had no way of helping him short of discovering a flamethrower.

Tyler tripped and fell backward. The crawler lunged. I screamed.

He rolled side-to-side as the crawler's barbed feet tried to pin him to the ground. The shape of a human face writhed beneath the creature's armor where a spider's head might be. The face stretched into a smile. The chitin split open and a glistening black tube the size of my arm shot toward Tyler's head.

His hands flashed out and caught the protuberance. A round mouth lined with teeth snapped in his face. Tyler squeezed. The face within the monster shrieked in pain. Its front legs stabbed at Tyler. He narrowly dodged the thrusts.

"Now would be a good time, Sticks!" he shouted. Tyler clenched his teeth and squeezed the tube.

The crawler shuddered and screamed in pain.

Sticks flipped over the monster. His eyes locked onto the tender spot and followed up with a lightning thrust. The blade on his staff plunged deep into the opening. The face beneath the crawler's chitin unleashed a deafening shriek. Sticks braced his feet and drove the staff even deeper into the demon.

"Twist it like a blender," Tyler yelled. "Churn its insides like a frozen margarita!"

Sticks moved the staff back and forth like a rower. The other Custodians came up behind the monster and began hacking at its legs. With a final shudder, the crawler collapsed. Tyler rolled free at the last minute, hopped to his feet, and brushed off his hands.

"Anyone have hand sanitizer?" he asked, his wolfish grin back in place.

Carswell took something from a pouch on his belt and sprayed it into my boyfriend's outstretched hands.

"Thanks, man." Tyler rubbed his hands together.

I launched myself at him and squeezed him in a fierce hug. "You crazy asshole!" I backed away and pounded his chest with my fists. "What were you thinking?"

He gripped my wrists and held me at bay. "Obviously, I was thinking about a nice cold drink with the margarita comment." Tyler pecked a kiss on my nose. "You're kind of cute when you're mad, Em."

I blew out a breath. "You're lucky I don't have superhuman strength, or I'd bend you over my knee this minute." I suddenly remembered we weren't alone and felt heat creeping up my face. Thankfully, most of the others were preoccupied looking at the dead crawler.

Sticks turned around and gave Tyler a nod.

"I agree, Mr. Sticks." George looked at the dead crawler and shook his head. "Mr. Rock is no ordinary demon." He tilted his head slightly. "How did you know about the creature's weakness?"

"One of my former acquaintances told me about it," Tyler replied.

"Another demon?"

"Yeah." Tyler's voice lost its excited edge. "There are some people who summon demons and make them fight. He was unfortunate enough to be one of their favorite summons."

"Demonic gladiator matches?" George looked mildly surprised. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"They're more popular than you might think." Tyler shrugged. "You just have to pray your name never ends up in a demonomicon."

"That brings me back to my original question about the demonicus," George said. "What purpose does it serve?"

"The demonomicon is a directory of all known demon names. I heard about it from my former acquaintances. Each demon name is associated with a pattern." Tyler pointed to the different patterns on the floor. "The smaller patterns are lesser demons." He wrinkled his nose. "If they knew my pattern, it would be about that size."

"I'm sure you have a very large pattern," I mumbled.

George cast me a questioning look, but said nothing.

Tyler flashed me a smile, and I abruptly remembered everyone here except me probably had supernatural hearing. My face went hot, but I kept my head up and pretended not to care.

Tyler returned to the patterns, this time pointing out the large one in the middle. "The bigger and more complex the pattern, the more powerful the demon." He sighed and shook his head. "I'm no expert, but the size and complexity of this pattern means someone summoned a demon of epic proportions." He pointed to the soulless bodies. "And it ate all their souls for breakfast."

Chapter 3

The Custodians exchanged troubled looks. Carswell spoke. "Demons can't exist in physical form for long outside the patterns though, right?"

"What we're looking at here wasn't an ordinary summoning." Tyler waved a hand toward the bodies. "This was like the opposite of an exorcism. If I had to guess, there were other people here who invited these demons to possess them." He examined the center of the large pattern and then at the group of bound victims. His brow furrowed.

"What is it?" George asked.

"I heard rumors that if a demon devoured enough souls, it would be more powerful in the mortal plane."

"Physically?" I asked.

"Demons have their own form of magic." Tyler shuddered. "Unfortunately it requires using soul essence. I only know the basics."

I tried to grasp where this was leading. "What you're saying is we might have a powerful demon magician in this world now."

His lips pressed tight. "Judging from all these summoning patterns, we have a small army of possessed humans on the loose, and no idea what in the world they're up to."

George dropped us back at Tyler's condominium building, the Gregorian, an hour later. "I'll let you know when we need your help again, Miss Glass."

"How about you let us know what in the bloody hell is going on with the demons?" I suggested in an impolite tone.

"I was under the impression you were too busy to concern yourself with our day-to-day operations." George looked at Mr. Sticks. The other man offered a curt nod.

"Well?" I asked.

"I'd be happy to keep you apprised, but it would be beneficial if you and Mr. Rock attend the Overworld orientation classes in the meantime." He tipped his hat. "Until next time."

"Let's keep things fun next time." Tyler flashed a grin and slid out of the backseat.

I squirmed with impatience during the ride up the lift.

"Are you okay?" Tyler asked.

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm wonderful."

His lovely green eyes widened. "Was it something I did?"

The doors opened and we stepped into the foyer. His thumbprint unlocked the door to his palatial penthouse. The moment he closed the door behind us I shoved him against a wall.

"You foolish man!" I pressed my head against his chest. "I thought that thing was going to kill you."

He caressed my hand. "I'm sorry, Em. If I hadn't done something, a lot of people might have lost their souls."

Tears flooded my eyes. "I know. It was very brave."

"And sexy, right?" He tucked a finger under my chin and brought my gaze to his smoldering eyes.

"Yes," I admitted.

He swept me off my feet and carried me down the hall to the bedroom. "I think it's time we celebrated."

"I must admit, I wasn't sure if I wanted to fuck you or beat you with a cricket bat after you fought that monster."

"I wanted to tear off your clothes and take you right then." He tossed me on the bed and climbed on top of me. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do with you." He nuzzled my neck and traced my ear with his tongue.

A shiver ran through my body, leaving goose bumps in its wake. "Well, Mr. Rock, that's a difficult decision."

His tongue made its way into the hollow of my throat. "Perhaps the most difficult I've ever made." He reached a hand beneath my shirt and undid my bra clasp, then slid each strap down my arm. "I'll have to study each and every option."

"Please do." His touch was electric. I gazed into his lovely jade green eyes. They were the color of his soul—I'd seen it when he revealed to me his true nature. After a day like today, I desperately needed to feel safe. Tyler was my refuge in a world gone mad.

After a wonderful bedroom romp, we prepared a late lunch and ate on his balcony. The winter weather had given way to warm days this weekend, hinting at a possible early spring, though my British side cautioned against optimism, especially where weather was concerned.

Tyler seemed preoccupied as he sipped his wine.

"What's wrong, darling?" I touched his hand, wishing I could glimpse his every thought.

He shrugged. "When George mentioned the Daemos, it just made me think."

"About?"

"What I am." His eyes saddened. "Demon spawn—Daemos—they're a permanent part of this world. Somehow, Baal mixed demon souls and human souls to make a perfect hybrid."