A bit uncertain of what he meant, I asked for clarification. “Can’t control what?”
He drew himself up, hesitation still etched on his face. “My magic.” He shook, rumbles echoing through the earth. “A spark turns into a blaze, a blaze into an inferno. It fights to be free. It will not be denied.”
The helplessness I heard in his voice stabbed me in the chest. I’d never once, in all my hundreds of years knowing him, ever seen Baalth as anything other than in control. Tempered by the fury of Hell and the brutality of the battlefield, he was a warrior to the marrow. He faced death boldly, never once turning a cheek as he stood toe-to-toe against the Angelic Choir. He’d decried God, laying siege to the Pearly Gates themselves without fear. Yet there he was, alone, more powerful than any being in existence, and all I could see was misery draping him like a funeral shroud.
Though I probably should have filed that moment away, saving it for future blackmail, I couldn’t help but feel for the guy. He’d realized his dreams only to find they were made of shit and tears.
I could relate.
Before my brain could tell my mouth to fuck off and mind its own business, it dug a hole for me. “I’ll find them.”
He looked at me wide-eyed. If I could have seen my face, it probably looked the exact same as his: surprised.
“Would you?” Hope blossomed in his eyes, though it made him no less imposing. The earth rumbled once more, but its growl was somewhat subdued.
Painted into a corner by my goody two-shoes tongue, I nodded. There wasn’t anything else I could do. Besides, I really couldn’t have Baalth rampaging around like Godzilla, burning the city down. Though I really wasn’t all that concerned about Marcus or The Gray-they could both go suck the business end of a bazooka-I felt a pang of pity for Poe. While we were on opposite sides of the fence, he’d earned my respect.
Besides, from the sound of things, I was going after Reven already so what was one more reason? It sure didn’t hurt to be on Baalth’s good side.
He leaned in even closer, so close I could smell the ashy wisps of energy drifting off his naked skin. My nervousness grew as he crowded against me to whisper into my ear.
I could only hope the thing pressed warmly against my leg wasn’t what I thought it was.
“Do this for me-” A banjo serenade played in my head. “-and I’ll grant you a portion of my power as well as forgive your contract.”
At that moment, I didn’t care what he was rubbing on me. In fact, the promise of power had me contemplating a sore jaw. Fortunately, because I’d have embarrassed myself right there, that wasn’t one of the requirements.
Unable to wipe the smile from my face, I met his eyes as he stepped back. While excited by the offer of power for something I’d have done for free, I still knew better than to take his word for it. “Not that I don’t trust you, but-”
He cut me off with a wave, a narrow smile on his lips. He knew how things worked. In fact, I probably earned a few points of respect in his eyes by bringing it up.
With a flash of his hands a contract poofed into being. He bit his palm, letting the blood pool before making his mark. Finished, he blew on the contract to dry it, warm winds fluttering by. He then passed it to me. I read it over, scanning every word, looking for hidden caveats.
To my surprise, there were none. It was an amendment of our original, voiding the first and laying out the terms just as Baalth said they’d be. I took a second look, my mind unable to rationalize a catch-free contract.
“You sure about this?” Against my better judgment, I gave him an out.
He nodded. “The deal stands.” He gestured for me to return the contract. I did with a shaking hand. “Return my men to me, alive, and the power will be yours. You will owe me no more.”
The ground rumbled again, the relief on his face fading.
“Hurry, Triggaltheron.” He looked about at the ruin of his domain, his eyes moist. “For all of our sakes.”
Serpentine tendrils of mist seeped from the ground beneath him, coiling up his legs and wrapping him in ebony shadows. His weary gaze fell on me as the darkness swallowed his face. An instant later, he was gone.
Amidst the wreckage of Old Town, I stood with a blazoning smile amongst the burning buildings and the scorched earth as Rahim and Katon approached.
“You two an item now?” Katon asked.
“There you go with that jealousy act again.” I grinned. “You can’t have me.”
I knew Katon was mostly being sarcastic, but buried beneath his comment was a flowing undercurrent of distrust. He knew Baalth and I had a history, the demon lieutenant having saved my life long ago, and that would forever taint his opinion of me. He would never admit it, nor would he let it interfere with our work, but I knew there was a part of Katon that sat in reserve waiting for the day Baalth called in his marker and he’d have to kill me.
It was a chilling thought.
I never told anyone my original debt to Baalth was already paid, letting them presume otherwise. My guilt wouldn’t let me tell them. My stomach churned as I thought about what I’d had to do to free myself from the entanglements of Baalth’s strings.
Fortunately, Rahim wasn’t in the mood for my introspection, which was good, because I wasn’t either.
“Since even Ray Charles can see Baalth is to blame for this,” He gestured to the sputtering ruins, “can you tell me why?”
“Reven kidnapped his men: Poe, Marcus, and to top it off, McConnell.”
Rahim’s face showed a mix of understanding and crass apathy. He probably cared for Baalth’s goons even less than I did.
“I’m presuming since Old Town is a smoking crater and he handed you a contract, he was unable to stop the necromancer and wants you to do so?”I nodded. “He’s on edge, his power all over the place. You felt the rumbling, right?”
Both had.
“Is he dangerous?” Rahim asked, the unspoken understanding he meant more so than usual.
“Very much so,” I had to admit. “He passed the rescue on to me because I believe he thinks he’s about to lose it.”
Katon glanced around, a harsh laugh slipping out. “I think we’re past that point.”
“This is just a sniffle compared to the plague he’d unleash if his power slipped loose. I think he bit off way more than he could chew when he claimed Glorius’s soul. It’s eating him up inside.”
“And we’re worried about the zombie Anti-Christ when we’ve got a full blown Satan on our hands, counting down the moments until he blows?”
“Baalth is a known quantity. He values his life as much as we do ours. More importantly, he values his status. He won’t do anything to compromise his place in the new order. He’ll hold on as long as he can. At least as long as he thinks things are being handled.” I sighed, the smoke burning my lungs. “On the other hand, Reven and Longinus are unknowns. We have no clue as to their end-game plans.” It’s never good when I’m the voice of reason.
“Frank is right.” It must have hurt for Rahim to admit that. “We stay focused on Reven. When we’ve ended the necromancer’s threat, we’ll worry about Baalth.” He paused and let his eyes roam the destruction. “If we’re around to worry at all.”
The wailing sound of fire engines in the distance snatched my moment away. “I’m gonna look around a bit, see what I can see before the public servants show up.” Conflicted, and certain it was my penis telling me to believe Karra, I was desperate to resolve things, one way or another.
“I’ll stick with Frank,” Katon told Rahim. “If you’d inform Abraham of our plans, I’d be grateful.”
Though Katon tried to be subtle, Rahim’s face drooped, his mood flat-lining. Not used to being coddled, kept in the back with the children and elderly, he took it hard. It was the closest thing to a literal heartbreak I’d ever seen. His eyes narrowed, the corners fluttering, his lips drawn into a straight line. The muscles in his neck were tight, bulging against the skin.