Lucinda saw an opening and rushed past Moran, scooping the Baphomet Orb into her arms and dodging back, carving a clear path with an exceptionally strong flare from her staff.
Moran raised his arms to the ceiling. With a sizzle and snap, the overhead lights in the building suddenly pulsed on, with a surge that sent sparks flying from the overloaded lights. Bulbs popped, and the smell of burned wiring filled the air. In the momentary flash, we were blinded, and I knew Moran was moving in for the kill.
I couldn’t see, but I could hear. The minion came at me, clicking and snapping, hurtling through the air.
The ghosts couldn’t stop it, and my eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. I felt Bo’s ghost brush against my left leg, so I dove to the right, clutching the whorl in one hand and the ring in the other for clarity.
The minion’s sharp claws ripped through my left shoulder and I gasped. Blood flowed down my arm, and it hurt like hell. The minion’s feet clattered on the concrete floor, and I heard Bo barking like a hellhound. As my vision slowly returned, I used Bo’s barks to maneuver out of the minion’s way. It meant I dodged the worst of the blows, but not all of them. By the time I could see again, blood was running down my face from a cut on my scalp, my right thigh had a gash that was going to need stitches, and I had only narrowly missed being clawed down the belly.
I thrust out my right hand, shoving the akvenon away and blasting it with magic at the same time, choosing the white-fire of the whorl to do the most damage. It shrieked and writhed, withering from the point-blank hit of magic. Teag’s staff came down hard on its skull, crushing bone, and with a sweep, he kicked it out of the way with a move that should have been in the World Cup.
He swung his staff in an arc, knocking another minion off its feet and slamming down the staff on its back. He had his short sword in his right hand, and as the third akvenon leaped at him, Teag got under it, bringing his blade up and through its belly as I scrambled out of the way. The akvenon screeched, impaled on the ensorcelled blade, and ichor gushed over Teag’s sword. He jerked the blade free and the minion fell to the ground. He swung his staff, batting the writhing body back at the other three approaching akvenon. They fell on their bloodied companion, ripping it to shreds, temporarily forgetting us.
Teag gave me a hand up. His hand was warm and slick with blood, and I could see that in the few seconds we had been blinded, the minions had taken a toll on both of us. “Some night out, huh?” he joked. His face was streaked with sweat, blood, and ichor, blackened from the dust that covered everything.
Lucinda stood in the intersection of the corridors, staff upraised, head thrown back. Her body was twitching and bucking as if ridden by an unseen power, and I smelled the scent of pipe smoke, stronger now. It seemed to me that another power overtook Lucinda, and I saw the image of a gnarled old man in a straw hat, leaning on a cane.
Behind Lucinda, it looked as if the rest of the storage building ceased to exist and an infinite well of blackness had opened up, blotting out everything else. Somehow, I knew that this blackness was different from the shadows and darkness that had clutched at me in the unit. This was the darkness between stars, the darkness of the grave and what lay beyond. And in that moment, my limited knowledge of Voudon gave me the name for what I saw.
Papa Legba, Master of the Crossroads, the Loa who held the keys to the afterlife, possessed Lucinda, and it was into his arthritic hands we would send the demon back where it came from.
Moran screamed and pointed his wand at Lucinda, shrieking curses at her. But the power Lucinda had called encircled her, and the harm Moran intended rebounded, striking him full force. He fell back, coughing up gobbets of blood, as began to shake and scream as if he were being shredded from the inside out.
Sorren dove forward and swung with his full vampire might, severing Moran’s head from his body.
Moran’s body continued to buck and twist, grabbing for Sorren blindly, animated by unholy magic.
Mirov glanced away for just an instant, and in that second, the demon struck. One clawed hand dug deep into Mirov’s shoulder, ripping his left arm from his body. The demon jerked forward, sinking its teeth into Mirov’s neck. Mirov spasmed, managing to thrust one more silver shiv into the belly of the demon before the creature gave a vicious shake, breaking Mirov’s neck and throwing him clear.
Lucinda’s chanting rose above the chaos of the winds, and I clung to its sound for sanity. I stared at the double image of Lucinda and Papa Legba like a drowning man searching the horizon for rescue. The staff rose, and the agate gem flared a brilliant, red light that swept across the corridor and the unit, clearing the area like a blast wave.
I fell flat on the ground, and the shadows and energy that had pulled at me were swept backwards with an irresistible force. Lucinda/Papa Legba raised the Baphomet Orb to the sky, then hurled it into the maw of primal darkness that loomed behind them. It exploded like a supernova, sending a pillar of fire up through Building Four’s rusted tin ceiling, rising into the night sky.
Lucinda stood at the intersection of two corridors. A crossroads. I reached into my pocket and grabbed the vial of dirt and kufwa dust and hurled it to the ground just behind where Lucinda was standing.
Cold, cleansing wind swept through the storage unit, sweeping past us with a rush, and in the frigid air, ghostly hands reached forward, grabbing hold of the demon and holding him tight as he struggled, howling his rage. The winds snatched up Moran’s bucking and writhing headless body, heedless of the dark blood that surged from the stump of his neck, impervious to his grasping, bony hands.
The ghostly jailers dragged Moran, his minions and the shrieking demon toward the portal. Just as he tipped into the abyss, Chuck reached into a pocket and lobbed what looked like a grenade into the darkness after the demon. There was a flare of blindingly white light, a deafening boom, and the acrid smell of chemicals.
Abruptly, the portal closed. The shadow men disappeared.
The vision of Papa Legba lingered a moment longer, and the smell of pipe smoke replaced the stench of the demon, wafting through the brick building. The old man beckoned toward the ghosts that still stood sentry around Teag and me: Jimmy and Kevin, Fred, and the others. Like weary refugees, they turned toward Papa Legba, drifting toward the place where he stood. When they reached him, they and the Loa vanished. In the distance, we heard a dog bark three times. Wind, sound, and shadows disappeared.
“What the hell did you throw at the demon?” Teag asked, staring at Chuck.
Chuck’s jacket was covered with blood and ichor. His gimme cap was long gone, and sweat beaded his forehead. His clothing was shredded and he stood like he’d broken some ribs.
“Just a little Willie Pete,” he said with an exhausted grin. “White phosphorous grenade. Couldn’t use it before without killing the rest of us, but in the right spot, it makes a nice flash-bang.”
I thought there really should be some kind of response to that, but I was too exhausted to think of it. I sagged against Teag, as the adrenaline rush faded and I let a different kind of darkness sweep over me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“WE WON, DIDN’T we?” I woke to find myself in my bed in my own house, with Baxter snuggled by my side. My arms had fresh bandages and I could feel more gauze on other body parts, beneath the covers.
The drapes were pulled closed, but the nightstand lamp cast the bedroom in a warm glow.
“Mostly.” Sorren was sprawled in an armchair, looking more disheveled than I’d ever seen him. One glance at the glimmer of light beneath the closed curtains told me it was daylight, but my vampire business partner had not gone to ground.