I jerked my head back to the demon in time to see Axel lick his lips in satisfaction. “Such anger… so delicious…”
Realization hit me, as usual, a bit late. “It’s you. You’re doing this.”
“Give me something, and I’ll go away…” The red glow sprang into his eyes again, and I was certain no one would ever notice in the chaos.
A third fight sprang up at the top of the stairs, the combatants tumbling down the concrete walkway into the seats before I could even see if they were male or female. Shouts from below told the tale of the spreading conflict. Dear God and merciful Buddha all in one… It leapt from person to person like a grass fire. And like a grass fire, it would burn as long as it had fuel-an entire baseball stadium full of fuel.
“Are you insane? You’ll start a riot!” I made a grab for Axel’s shirt, and he darted out of my reach faster than humanly possible. We played ring-around-the-rosy around the pillar for a few moments.
“Just a name, one name in exchange for all these people, and information you need… a bargain, really…” He poked his head around the pillar and grinned, caught somewhere between pleading and threatening. “You may as well give me the name. You can’t make me leave…”
“Yes, I can.” My keys had been in my pocket. I didn’t remember getting them out, but they were in my hand now. I thumbed the cap off my mini Mace key chain and took a deep breath. The next time he peered around the column, I depressed the trigger.
I heard Axel shriek once, but with my eyes clenched tight shut I missed his actual exit. There was a faint pop as air rushed in to fill the space he abruptly vacated, and I knew he was gone. The angry shouts around me became startled exclamations, ending up as desperate coughing and gagging. The cloud of cayenne and cumin spread through the violent crowd, turning rage into an instinctive scramble for air and self-preservation.
I held my breath as long as I could, and even then I choked on a cloud of pepper when my body finally demanded oxygen. Eyes watering fiercely, I watched as the remnants of the crowd fled, leaving behind the wounded.
The blonde lay on the cement floor, a trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth as she gagged and coughed, too dazed to get out of the demon Mace spray. Her opponent was nowhere to be seen. Leaning against one of the massive support pillars was #1 Dad, keening like a wounded rabbit, cuffed and forgotten in the upheaval. Someone nearby was making horrible retching noises.
I wondered where the security guards went, until a strong hand grabbed my arm. “Sir, you’ll have to come with me.” Well, that’s what he tried to say, under the coughing and choking. I got the gist of it.
Twice in as many days, I had run afoul of security guards. Oh sure. I use a little Mace, banish a demon, break up a potential riot, and I’m the one who gets arrested. Mira was going to kill me. Somewhere, someone was finding this hilarious.
18
As it turned out, I was not arrested. Given that the fortuitous “breaking” of my Mace canister happened to end a rather ugly situation, the stadium authorities were willing to forgive and forget. I was, however, strongly encouraged to wait for my friends in the holding cell in the bowels of the stadium, and not to come back for the rest of the season. That one hurt. It hurt a lot.
From the conversations I overheard down there, the security guard with the Taser was in deep kimchi, too. Poor guy. I would try to explain to his bosses that he was under demonic influence, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t appreciate the help.
Marty and Will, bastards that they were, watched the entire game before they came down to retrieve my scrawny ass. It gave me a lot of time to brood, while pretending to meditate.
Axel had been part of my life for the last two years, give or take. I couldn’t remember exactly when he’d turned up, inhabiting random local fauna, exchanging witty pleasantries over breakfast. But he’d resisted my best efforts to get rid of him. Once his continued presence was established, we’d set limits, laid down ground rules, and I thought no more on it. Not once had I seen him act… well… like a demon. Maybe I’d become complacent, forgetting that there was a fiend of Hell wrapped in whatever little furry body he’d chosen to possess for the day.
The thought chilled me to my very core. That thing had been in my yard. Hell, before Mira warded the entrances, he’d been in my house! He’d been around my family, my friends, my neighbors. What had he whispered to them, in weak moments? What seeds had he planted when I wasn’t looking?
You can’t save the entire world, Jesse. No, dammit, but I could try to save my little part of it.
While my brain slowly worked itself into a short circuit pondering all the what-ifs and mighta-couldas, I was forced to admit that there were worse physical ways to spend an evening. The “cell” was really just a corner of one of the offices, isolated and quiet. There was a cot to lounge or sit on as I chose, and a convenient soda machine. I could hear the game on the radio in the security office, and every so often, one of the guards wandered by to check on me.
One of them even tossed me a book to read, some action adventure spy epic by some author I’d never heard of. It was full of explosive action scenes and heroes walking away from easily lethal injuries-complete and utter fiction. I guess people found it entertaining. It was a bit ridiculous, by my tastes.
I should have known my pseudo- incarceration was going too well. Normally, I operate on the assumption that at any given moment, someone is going to walk up and kick me in the nuts. When Travis Verelli walked through the door smiling, I knew I was right.
“Mr. Dawson, I can’t possibly tell you how good it is to see you.” The little weasel beamed at me as he set his briefcase on the desk to open it. I would almost call him giddy. He did own some casual clothes, apparently, having donned a pair of khakis and a preppy- looking sweater for the ball game. The loafers were still there, though. Guess he still hadn’t learned to tie his shoes.
“I’m glad I could make you happy.” I laid the book aside and stood up. This was an enemy. You don’t face an enemy lying down. That’s not bushido; that’s just common sense.
“I mean really, inciting a riot? Dispersing a toxic chemical? I couldn’t have planned this better myself.” He produced a form from the case and handed it to me. “I was going to surprise you with this, but since you’re here…”
Warily, I looked it over, then looked up at him in amazement. “A restraining order? Does Kidd know you’re doing this?”
“Well, technically, that’s just the paperwork requesting one. The judge is still reviewing it. But I expect he’ll finalize it tomorrow, especially in light of tonight’s little… incident.” He perched himself on the corner of the desk, looking like the cat that ate an entire flock of canaries. “And no, Mr. Kidd is unaware of my actions. The beauty of it is, he’ll never be asked to make a statement of his own. Famous people slide through the cracks that way.”
“You’re requesting it on what grounds? I haven’t done anything!”
He held up one finger. “Technically, you just haven’t done anything I can prove. We’ll call this a preemptive strike. I can attest that I am in fear for my client’s safety. Might even throw my own safety in there, too, given that you’re a violent man, and all.”
“I’ve never threatened you harm.” I wanted to, though. Oh how I wanted to.
He shrugged, picking some lint off his sweater. “That’s your word against mine. And I’m fairly certain when I show off the black eye I got in my altercation with you, the judge will be most obliging.”
I was floored. Yeah, Axel was evil, but he kinda couldn’t help it. This guy… He was in a class by himself. “You’re going to get someone to punch you, and claim that I did it.”