Mammon (19 page)

Grace placed her bow across the strings, positioning her head into the violin's chin rest. ‘You don't like him?'

‘I don't know the guy. But I've had good cause in the past to dislike her boyfriends.'

Grace tilted her head and listened as Ivan played a few more bars. She began to slide the bow across the strings and eventually settled into a steady rhythm.

Ivan nodded. ‘Good. You play well, Grace.'

‘Thanks.'

‘I'll teach you some Russian, you can teach me some Irish. Then we'll blow them all away next time there's a party.'

JOE RAN ALONG
the forest edge, his calves aching. Where were they?
His eyes darted along the road, desperate to catch a glimpse of a vehicle.

Then, a pair of lights beamed in his direction. Haures leaned out of the back window. ‘Here, Joe!' She pushed open the door and he slid into the back seat next to her. Andras hit the accelerator and the car sped towards the highway.

‘Hi.' Haures slid over so she was nestled against him. She looked even more beautiful tonight, her blonde hair tied back so her curls cascaded down her back, her curves nicely wrapped in a black t-shirt and jeans.

‘Hi.' He took her face in his hands and kissed her. ‘I missed you.'

‘I missed you more,' she whispered.

He looked at Mammon, who was sitting in the front passenger seat. ‘What's the mission?'

‘I'll tell you everything when we get to the apartment.' He raised his hand. ‘Don't worry! It won't be a long, dull briefing. Just a chance to get our weapons, run through our plans and hit them hard.'

As they cruised onto the highway, Joe sat back and pulled Haures close to him. They stared at the roadside trees and their ghostlike trunks, lit up by the headlights then subsiding into the darkness. The car gained speed and the trees became one long, pale blur.

* * *

THEY PULLED INTO
a car park deep below the City towers. Andras swiped a card; the lift doors opened.

Mammon's voice echoed from behind. ‘I think, after this, Joe would like to spend some time on the yacht.'

Joe smiled and squeezed Haures's waist. ‘Sure, why not?'

Andras grinned. ‘You haven't seen his yacht. You'd be saying a hell of a lot more then.'

The lift doors opened. They walked into a spacious corridor, where silver marble columns shimmered under ultra-modern candelabra. Giant white beams separated Japanese-style ceiling windows and a gold-lined staircase sat at the corridor's end. Haures led Joe towards the stairs. ‘This way.'

‘Whoa.' Joe whistled. ‘Nice.'

‘This whole floor is ours,' Haures said. ‘Mammon has parties here sometimes. Last time we decorated it as a winter wonderland.' She nuzzled Joe's neck. ‘I wore an ice bikini.'

He smiled. ‘What happened when it melted?'

She giggled. ‘That's for me to know and you to find out.' They climbed the stairs and Haures pushed open the apartment door.

In the entrance hall, an illuminated wall fountain oozed gentle streams of water; its frosted glass background featured a wolf's head. The entire floor was beige marble, except the dark, polished wood surrounding the oversized fireplace. Purple neon highlighted the wall behind the bar, where several rows of expensive drinks sat in meticulous order. A long cream sofa took up the centre of the room, where Andromalius and Zagan sat. A ninety-degree floor-to-ceiling window looked over the cityscape and river beyond.

Joe shook his head, grinning. ‘You're ridiculously rich.'

Mammon smiled. ‘Is that a compliment?' He touched his chest with a mock look of hurt. ‘I do try to help those in need, Joe. I've been looking for someone to head up my foundation. A young person with drive, energy – and most importantly, compassion.'

‘You want to talk to Grace, then. She's the one with the bleeding heart.' Joe stretched his arms and yawned. ‘No, don't get me wrong. I could get used to this.'

‘Let's have a drink,' said Haures.

Mammon wagged his finger. ‘We're working, young lady.'

Andromalius entered a security code and flung open a large cupboard door. He pulled out a shotgun.

‘Whoa.' Joe took a step back. ‘You've got more guns than Renfield.'

‘That can't be true,' Mammon said.

‘Well,' Joe shrugged. ‘More than I've been allowed to see, anyway.'

‘Still keeping you on a tight leash?' Mammon sighed. ‘Have you been on any real missions yet?'

‘Yeah! Today, actually. Some drug dealers . . . in the suburbs.' He looked around for their reactions. Mammon and Andras wore matching smirks; Zagan shook his head. Andromalius pulled out a box of bullets and scoffed. ‘Sounds
real
exciting.'

Only Haures gave him an encouraging smile. ‘That's better than nothing, I guess.'

‘What'd they give you?' Andromalius began loading the shotgun.

‘Huh?' Joe watched the cartridges slide into the magazine.

‘Weapons-wise.'

‘Oh – a combined taser/neurotoxin gun.'

‘No live rounds?'

‘Oh, yeah. Of course.' Joe lifted his chin. ‘I don't really need them, though. I've got something better.'

‘What's that?' Mammon raised an eyebrow.

Joe took a seat at the table and knocked on the wood. ‘Put something in the middle here and I'll show you. Something you don't care about losing.' He sat back in his chair and waited.

Mammon leaned on his table, eyes glinting with antici- pation. ‘Your watch, Zagan.'

The young demon scowled. ‘Do I have to?'

Mammon looked at him.

With a hiss, Zagan threw his watch on to the table. ‘Feel like I've just been screwed in a poker game,' he muttered.

Joe lifted his palms – and concentrated.

Haures gasped, staring at the small cloud that appeared on the tabletop. ‘What
is
that?'

‘Have to be careful,' Joe said, holding his hands steady. ‘It'll damage your table.' He relaxed, and the rift vanished – along with Zagan's watch.

The others exchanged glances. ‘Impressive!' Mammon said.

‘Imagine what I can do to demons,' Joe said. ‘Not that I have to imagine. I did that today. Left one hell of a mess, though.' He scratched his head.

‘Who cares?' said Mammon. ‘That's amazing.'

‘You're something else, Joe.' Haures leaned on her chin and stared at him.

Joe sat back in his chair, basking. ‘Yeah. It's a pretty cool gift. But I haven't really taken it out for a spin yet – if you know what I mean.'

‘Well, you'll get your chance tonight.' Mammon sat down. ‘I'm going to get straight to the point here, Joe. It's taken us a few weeks, but we've found the demons who killed your parents.'

Joe went pale. ‘What?'

‘We're going to take them down tonight,' said Andras.

‘Let's go now!' said Joe. Tense-faced, he jumped up.

Mammon smiled. ‘Good. Keep hold of that anger, Joe. Maintain the rage. Trust me, it'll help you.' He looked around the group. ‘Let's do it.'

‘We can go on foot,' Andras said. ‘The target is only a few streets away.' He pointed to the weapons cupboard. ‘Choose your gun, Joe. May I suggest the Magnum?'

Joe strapped on a holster and took the gun from Andras. ‘Awesome.'

‘Not that you'll really need it, after what you just showed us.' Mammon clapped Joe on the shoulder and led him towards the lifts.

* * *

THEY MOVED THROUGH
the entertainment district, where paper lanterns hung in golden symmetry, casting a sultry glow. Purple, red and blue lights shone along the pavement in alternating streaks. Low storm clouds combined with the stench of cigarettes, rotting food and beer brought a trapping humidity to the air.

Joe rubbed his sleeve over his forehead. He sighed, relieved at the sudden jet of cool air from a restaurant door. People jostled past him, chasing, hunting – fuelled by an unseen energy that prickled at their skin, filling them with a primal frustration.

But the high demon moved among the pack with the calmness of a veteran gamekeeper.

They wandered past a sports bar, where country tunes blasted through the doors and bouncers stood against yellow walls streaked in neon light. Working girls dotted the pavement, all flesh and enticing stares.

One girl turned towards Joe and gave him a seductive flick of her long pale hair. His eyes ran over her body: from the black leather skirt barely skimming her backside to the face slathered in make-up, and the large, unfocused eyes.

He felt nauseous. How old was she? For a second, he imagined Grace standing there, selling her body . . . the idea was simply too much. A powerful urge to protect this girl kicked in.

‘Hi,' she said, stumbling towards him in a lofty pair of red shiny heels that matched her elastic top. Joe lunged forward and grabbed her by the elbows. ‘You okay?' Gently, he released her.

From the shadows a man emerged, grabbed the girl's arm and pushed her towards Joe. ‘Oi! No walking away, sunshine. You touch it, you buy it.'

Joe wrinkled his nose: the man stank of stale tobacco, sweat and one too many shots of whisky.

Mammon turned to the pimp. ‘He's not interested. This is immoral, anyway! You ought to be arrested.' He looked the man over with a disgusted frown.

The pimp scowled. ‘Not your problem, mate. He touched her, he pays. Or you can pay.' He shrugged. ‘I'm not particular.'

Mammon stared at him. And in those dark, shimmering eyes, the pimp saw something. The promise of danger – no, worse. A room with no doors in a dark place. For millennia.

The pimp swallowed and wiped a strand of hair away from his forehead. ‘Okay, okay.' He lifted his hands in defence, releasing the girl's arm and blending into the shadows.

A frown passed over Joe's face.

Haures squeezed his arm. ‘What's wrong?'

‘I'm surprised, that's all. I thought that guy would be a demon for sure.'

Andras shook his head. ‘Most demons use humans for their more mundane jobs.'

They turned a corner, into a darker road where rows of cottages lent an unexpected suburban aspect to the otherwise seedy surrounds.

‘In here.' They took shelter in a lane.

‘Now, listen carefully. There are six guys in there – all demons. You go in and open a rift straight away. We'll back you up.'

Joe shrugged. ‘Okay.' He held up his hand as the others began to move. ‘I have to be careful with this. I don't want to take out any other buildings.'

‘You won't!' Mammon thumped Joe's back. ‘You're in control, Joe.'

They moved on to a darkened step, where light poured through a stained-glass circle on a dark front door. Joe peered sideways – a random thought about the neat state of the gardens flashing through his mind – and then Andromalius pushed the door open.

Calmly, they walked inside.

‘YOU'RE A GOD,
Joe!' Mammon lifted a champagne glass in a toast. ‘Nothing I've ever seen comes close to what you did tonight.'

‘Thanks.' Joe leaned back on the sofa, a cold drink nestled in his hand. Haures curled her legs up next to him, her hand resting on his thigh. He reflected on the past hour – the surprised look of the occupants in that gloomy little cottage – the last gasp squeezed from their lips before the rift consumed them.

All too easy.

The flash and boom of gunfire behind him. Unexpected. He hadn't seen the shooting take place – his eyes were pinned on his rift, in the middle of the house. The deep, rich satisfaction of the kill was pulsing through his veins.

He frowned. But the gunfire . . .
That wasn't part of the plan.
He looked at Mammon. ‘Who were the other people in the house? I didn't expect to see them there.'

Mammon put down his glass. He sat back and gave Joe a long look. ‘Does it matter?'

‘They weren't demons. Why did you have to shoot them?'

‘They were still involved in your parents' murders, Joe. We did our research carefully.' Mammon leaned forward, stroking his fingers on the cool wood of the coffee table. ‘Now, if Renfield had been involved, they would've let those humans go. Or, worse, given them to the police. You'd have no satisfaction there. And as for the demons? Apprehended, taken to Renfield for questioning . . .'

He sighed. ‘They would have lived on, only a stone's throw from where you sleep. Taunting you by sucking air when you could have seen them dead. Would you have preferred that?'

‘No.'

‘I didn't think so.' Mammon stood up. ‘See how we do things, Joe? Imagine what we could achieve together. You've just executed six deserving criminals, in the way that only you can. Flawless.' He slid his hands into his pockets, jingling his coins.

‘It did feel good.' Joe cast a triumphant look around the group. ‘Real good!'

‘Mmm,' Mammon nodded. ‘I can see it in your eyes.' They could all see it – the red glow that lingered in his eyes; the mark of the Ferryman who'd begun to give himself over to his dark power.

‘Tonight, you've crossed into a new world, Joe. And it can only get better.'

‘Halphas!' Andras waved the empty bottle.

Joe watched as an old man shuffled in with a tray. ‘Would you like another champagne, sir?'

‘No,' Joe said.

‘Well. Shall we?' Mammon looked at Joe. ‘To the yacht?'

Haures squeezed Joe's hands. ‘Yes! Come on!'

‘I can't.' Joe looked at the clock near the bar. ‘I have to get back.'

‘Aw!' Haures pouted. She slumped back in the sofa.

Joe gave her an apologetic smile. He took her hand and stroked it. ‘I promised my sister I'd come back by twelve. She helped me sneak out tonight.' He looked up and was met with a round of curious stares. ‘She's telepathic.'

‘Really?' Mammon gave Andromalius a meaningful look. ‘Mind-reader?'

‘No. But she can make people think what she wants them to think.'

‘Interesting,' Mammon said. ‘We can recruit her, too. I'm sure she's frustrated by the control that Renfield imposes on her.'

Smiling, Joe shook his head. ‘Only if she can bring Ivan with her, and I don't think that's going to happen.'

Haures stared into Joe's eyes. ‘I really want to see you again.'

‘Me too.' He stroked her cheek.

‘How about tomorrow night? We'll come and pick you up again.' She looked up at Mammon. ‘Is that okay, boss?'

‘Definitely. Joe, you can leave Renfield tomorrow night and join us for good. We'll celebrate with a little cruise up the coast.'

Joe nodded. ‘I'd love to.'

‘Good.' Mammon nodded at Andras, who stood waiting near the door, dangling car keys from his fingers.

Mammon shook Joe's hand. ‘Until tomorrow night, then.'