The Jake Helman Files Personal Demons (26 page)

“YOU DO NOT HAVE TO SUFFER LIKE THIS. I CAN MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS AGREE TO HELP ME.”

Barely conscious, Jake smiled again. Preferring death to this agony, he opened his mouth and a weak laugh came out.

The glowing blood in Cain’s veins darkened. He opened and closed his fist, and a third strip of flesh ripped from Jake’s torso, exposing his rib cage. Jake howled, unable to withstand any more pain. Staring at his own insides, he closed his eyes and sobbed. Dread and Baldy stopped screaming, but the flames dancing from their bodies continued to crackle. Jake’s chest constricted, and his sobs turned into chuckles. Focusing on the pinpricks of light in Cain’s eye sockets, he laughed in the demon’s terrible face.

Cain stood seething, then bounded across the cellar with frightening speed. Jake’s eyes widened and he jerked on the chains. Cain halted before Jake and punched his fist through Jake’s ribs, shattering them like dried twigs. Arching his body, Jake threw his head back in a scream that only he heard. He felt Cain’s hand groping around inside his chest, then close powerful fingers around his heart. Jake lowered his head, afraid to move or even breathe. Cain pulled his hand from Jake’s torso and pieces of shattered ribs fell away and struck the floor. Blood dripped from the demon’s hand, which clutched Jake’s heart. Jake gasped; his heart continued to beat, its arteries stretching to his chest cavity like spiderwebs.

“FOR THE LAST TIME
…
WILL YOU HELP ME?”

Cain’s breath reeked of dead, rotting flesh and Jake swallowed bile. Jake heard a giggling sound and realized that it was coming from deep inside him. It would have been a simple matter for him to release his grip on reality and slip into madness. Biting down on his lip, he snapped back into awareness and felt the pieces of his mind settling into place once more. He could not take his eyes off his beating heart, and his voice turned hoarse and raspy. “How do you know … Old Nick … even … has … those souls?”

“WE HAVE FOLLOWED THE ACTIVITIES OF THE MAN
YOU CALL THE CIPHER WITH GREAT INTEREST.
HE
WILL MAKE A FINE ADDITION TO OUR REALM.”

“He murdered my wife tonight.”

“TOWER IS BUILDING AN IMPRESSIVE COLLECTION.”

“If I agree to get you into the Tower, will you agree to set Sheryl’s soul free?”

Blue flashes danced through Cain’s brain like lightning bolts. His features twisted into a hideous imitation of a grin.
“CERTAINLY.”

Jake tried to swallow again, but his mouth had turned cottony. “Then you’ve got a deal. How long will you give me to do the job?”

“TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE.”

“What’s the hurry?”

“TOWER HAS ALREADY EXCEEDED HIS LIFESPAN WITH THE AID OF EXPERIMENTAL DRUGS AND REPLICATED ORGANS. MY MASTER HAS GROWN IMPATIENT.”

“Twenty-four hours?”

“AGREED.”

Jake sighed. He could avenge Sheryl’s death and appease Cain at the same time. Cain squeezed his heart, and Jake’s eyes and mouth opened wide as his body went spastic. The heart ruptured in Cain’s hand, and blood squirted out between the demon’s fingers. Jake sucked in his breath. The manacles around his wrists snapped open, and he fell to his knees on the floor. The cellar grew dark again, filled with the sounds of Jake’s labored breathing and the rain landing on the floor around him. Cain had disappeared with his minions, but Clarence’s tripod and instruments remained and the flames in the furnace continued to burn. Jake sat back on the balls of his feet, his chest intact and seamless. He no longer felt any pain except in his wrists, where the manacles had bitten into his flesh, and he massaged them. Had Cain restored him, or had the demon simply been screwing with his mind all along? The air remained thick with foul-smelling smoke, and scorch marks covered the sooty floor. Jake looked at his watch: 10:02.

Twenty-four hours
.

Whether by accident or by design, he found himself kneeling in the position of prayer.

P
ushing the heavy steel door open, Jake staggered out of the factory and into the pouring rain. He had pulled on the tattered remains of his shirt, and his shoulder holster held the fabric together beneath his jacket. His clothes reeked of sweat, urine, and smoke, and he stood in the rain for a full minute, allowing the cold water to rinse the stench from them.

Cain
, he thought, shaking his head. He believed in science and evolution, not fairy tales conceived by men who had thought the earth was flat.
The largest sea vessel in the world couldn’t have transported two specimens of every living species on Earth, and the only burning bush Moses ever saw was between his wife’s legs
. But if he could accept ghosts and Soul Catchers, why not heaven and hell, and the masters of each domain?

The car that Dread and Baldy had commandeered remained parked across the street like a refugee from a scrap-metal yard. Before he could approach it, a figure clad in filthy rags stepped directly in his path, causing him to jump and suck in his breath. A gnarled face filled his vision, water dripping off the wild-eyed man’s nose and whiskers. Where had the man come from? He remembered seeing no one in the deserted area. The EDP stared at Jake, who expected him to mutter something about losing his soul.

“Spare some change?”

Releasing his breath, Jake fished out his wallet and gave the derelict a fifty dollar bill. He limped toward the abandoned vehicle across the street, opened the driver’s side door, and got in. Rain assaulted the car. No keys dangled from the ignition.

Cursing, Jake glanced in the rearview mirror. A pair of feminine eyes stared back at him. Screaming, he twisted around in his seat and saw Sheryl sitting behind him.

“Jesus!” Jake clutched his chest and gasped for air. The car had been empty when he got into it.

Sheryl sat perfectly still, staring straight at him and yet taking no notice of his reaction. “Do you believe in true love?”

Sighing, he nodded. “You know I do.”

“So do I. And I love you. It’s important to me that you know that.”

His heart ached. “I love you, too.”

She looked around the car’s grimy interior. The rainwater running down the windows obscured the view outside. “It’s so hard to remember who I am. I feel incomplete, like I’m not all here. I come and I go.” She touched her throat and, finding nothing wrong with it, lowered her hand. “I work as a costume designer on independent films. What do you do?”

She had spoken those words to him when they first met. Was he speaking to a memory? His chest convulsed and he swallowed to keep steady. He needed to be strong for her sake. “I’m a cop.”

This caught her attention. “Oh, good. Then you can help me.”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Leaning closer, tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know where I am. They’ve locked me up in some tower. You’ve got to set me free!”

As the tears rolled down her cheeks, Jake reached out to caress one side of her face. “I will, I promise.” And before he could stop himself, he touched her flesh and it was her turn to scream. She dissolved before his eyes and beams of light shot shone through the car windows into the rainy night. When she had left him again, he pounded on the steering wheel and wept.

The rain had become a drizzle by the time Jake reached the Tower, around 11:20 p.m. Two muscle-bound security guards stood in the private lobby, one Mediterranean-looking, the other Asian. Both men looked at Jake with suspicion as he approached the security station, his wet shoes squeaking on the gleaming floor, which showed no sign of Cain’s attack that morning.

“Can I help you, sir?” the Mediterranean-looking man said. His badge identified him as Tataopoulis, Peter.

“I’m Helman.”

Both men snapped to attention, but Tataopoulis said, “Uh, we still need to see your ID.”

Jake took out his security card and held it out for Tatapoulis to read.

“Good evening, Mr. Helman. This is David Chan, and I’m—”

“I don’t care who you are. I’m not interested in getting to know you. You’re short-timers, understand? If you’re smart and you want to stay alive, you’ll quit now.”

Both men stood speechless. Jake boarded an elevator and rode it to the sixtieth floor, where Graham sat behind his station with a grim expression on his face.

“Welcome back,” Graham said in a flat voice, staring at Jake’s clothing.

How much did Graham know? Jake liked him, but he could not afford to trust anyone in the company. “Pulling a double?”

Graham nodded. “I had no choice. I had to stay until you got back.”

You’re lucky I showed up at all
, Jake thought.

The doors to Kira’s office opened and she stepped out, a conceited expression on her face. Conscious of the Glock in his holster, Jake felt his blood boiling with rage. Cain had called her a witch; Jake could think of better names.
You sanctioned the hit, didn’t you?

“Mr. Tower’s waiting for you in his quarters,” she said.

Restraining his fury, Jake gestured at his ruined suit. “Do you mind if I shower and change my clothes first?”

“He wants to see you now,” she said without inflection.

What choice did he have? Jaw clenched, he approached her doors.

“You didn’t take my calls or respond to my messages,” she said, taunting him.

“I lost the cell phone in all the excitement this morning.” He wanted to strangle her with his bare hands.

They entered her office and she closed the doors. “Where’s my security card?”

“I must have lost that, too.”

“You’ll find Nicholas is in the Soul Chamber’s viewing room.” She held out her hand and waited.

Staring into her eyes, he drew his Glock from its holster. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to keep from pulling the trigger and blowing off her head. He placed the gun in her palm.

Kira arched one eyebrow. “Is there something you want to say to me?”

“Not now,” Jake said. “Later.”

“Any time,” she said, feigning sweetness.

Tower stood at the viewing room window as Jake approached him. The old man wore his security outfit again. Jake stopped midway to the window, a look of wonder spreading over his features. Inside the Soul Chamber, thirteen spheres of concentrated light streaked through the air in different directions, ricocheting off the walls. Each one the size of a bowling ball, they radiated different colors at alternating speeds, possibly communicating with each other. Halos of gold and silver reflected off the viewing window and Jake’s heart fluttered. He had never seen anything so beautiful in his life, and he sensed the spheres’ desperation to escape from their prison.

Souls
.

Tower saw Jake’s reflection in the glass. “You see them now, don’t you, Jake?”

Jake nodded. After the horrors of the preceding twenty-four hours, he felt moved by the sight of the spheres, and his eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” he said, choking up.
Sheryl’s here. Which one is she?

“A little faith makes all the difference in the world.”

The intensity of the colors radiating from the spheres softened as Jake moved closer to the glass. He felt connected to the Cipher’s victims.

Tower turned to him and Jake saw that the bandage had been removed from the old man’s rejuvenated left eye. “Sheryl’s in there now. Do you understand what that means? I own your wife’s soul. That makes me the most important man in your life, and the most important man in her afterlife. Fulfill your commitment to me and in time I’ll free her.”

Jake stared at Tower. He did not wish to discuss Sheryl with him. If he did, he might end up beating the old man to death. “I see your eye is better.”

Tower grinned. “Like new.”

“What are your plans for them?” He nodded at the chamber.

Tower’s smile turned guarded. “You don’t need to know that.”

Jake’s eyes followed the trajectories of the spheres. He found it impossible to identify Sheryl’s energy.

“It was irresponsible of you to run out at the first sign of trouble like that,” Tower said. “Graham had to dispose of those bodies all by himself. You didn’t make a very good impression.”