“What does that mean?”
“I should taste the remains of the demon. It’s something, but it’s not—” That’s the last thing he gets out before Hunter’s hand snaps up and grabs him by the throat.
The kid gets a good grip and lifts Traven from the floor. Traven flails at Hunter’s arms, but he might as well be hitting tree trunks with a powder puff. I punch Hunter on the side of the head, digging a knuckle into his temple hard, but not hard enough to crack bone. He doesn’t even react, just keeps squeezing Traven. Candy leaps from the end of the platform onto Hunter’s chest. As she pushes him down, I give him one more shot in the head. I can’t hit him any harder without scrambling his brains, so I aim low, hitting his floating ribs hard enough that I can feel a couple crack. That gets the message through. Hunter gasps and drops Traven, suddenly not able to breathe. Candy gives him a decent shot to the jaw before I pull her off. That knocks Hunter back onto his back. But not for long.
As we drag Traven away from the platform, Hunter starts up his Wild Man of Borneo routine. He tries to jump off the platform and follow us, but Traven’s binding hex holds. Hunter punches, claws, and throws his whole body at the invisible barrier, but it knocks him back every time.
Vidocq rushes over, pulling another vial from under his coat. He pours the whole thing down Traven’s throat. Traven coughs. His color goes from asphyxia blue to something human. He sits up and draws in a couple of wheezing breaths. He is alive, but he doesn’t look all that happy about it.
“What’s in there?” he says to no one in particular. “I’ve never seen a demon like this before. If the salt and bread didn’t work, the Spiritus Dei should have paralyzed it.”
Hunter is on his knees prowling back and forth along the platform like a pissed-off hyena waiting for its pack to arrive and kick our asses. The invisible barrier doesn’t bother him anymore. He isn’t even trying to get out. He’s having fun. Licking it with his black tongue, spitting blood on it, and finger-painting with the clotted mess. At first it looks like he’s just doodling, but a shape begins to emerge. In a minute he stops drawing, leans close to the bloody barrier, and opens his mouth. The fire fog that drifted from his mouth earlier flows out again. Flattening against the binding barrier, it spreads out like dozens of burning snakes. When it’s done, he puffs out his chest and inhales the fire back down his throat. Then he collapses on the platform. This time I don’t sense anything coming from him. I can usually feel life, a beating heart, even the shallowest breath, but this kid doesn’t even feel dead. More like a black hole of life. Candy gets up and starts toward him, but I grab her arm. The hex barrier is still intact, but Hunter has burned a symbol into it. Sister Ludi’s, the same symbol he burned over his bed.
And then I feel Hunter alive again. Still on his back, he turns his head and looks at me.
“Do you get it now? Please say yes. Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your friends.”
It takes me a minute to get past the face to the voice.
Hunter sits up. He stands, still a mess, but looking alert and calm.
“So, do you get it?”
I nod.
He’s talking in Mason’s voice.
“You’re coming through loud and clear.”
I reach into the barrier and run my hand through the burning symbol he drew until it drifts apart. Storm clouds and miniature fireworks.
“It’s Sister Ludi’s sigil. A fake goddess for a fake possession.”
Hunter raises his hands and rolls his eyes heavenward in mock relief. He’s a riot. Bob Hope with horns and a tail. But I deserve every bit of shit he serves up. Wells and Aelita foxed me like this once before, covering up a Drifter attack with a fake demon. Would I have fallen for the gag the first time if I was still on my game Downtown? No way. This stupid world is making me weak. Or mayighweak. Obe it’s just reminding me of how weak I’ve always been. No more. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you’re dead.
Hunter—Hunter’s body at least—shakes his head.
“I thought I was going to have to put on that medicine show forever. I mean Julia talked this idiot into exorcising me and it didn’t work. Now you drag him back and it goes tits up again. I thought that would have set off a few alarm bells.”
“It might have if I’d had time to think, but I was kind of busy with not letting your meat puppet kill him.”
Hunter smiles. Black gums and yellow teeth. I flash back on the Drifters and feel the urge to rip out his spine.
“What’s one Holy Roller more or less?”
“I like this one. He unfriended God on Facebook.”
Hunter looks skeptical.
“You sure it wasn’t the other way around? We have a lot of that type down here and I’m betting he’s on the party list. I’m getting a definite whiff of sulfur off him.”
He looks at Traven.
“You know all those suicides your Church condemns to Hell? There’s nothing they like better than having one of God’s defrocked toadies to play with. I’ll tell them to break out the party hats and get something special ready for you.”
Traven is turning white. He’s been through plenty of exorcisms, but having a rational, well-spoken demon threaten him personally is a whole new kind of fun for him.
“Don’t listen to him, Father. That’s no demon. It’s the asshole I was telling you about in the car. My friend Mason, the one who thinks he’s the new holy trinity—God, the devil, and GG Allin.”