Darkening Dawn (The Lockman Chronicles Book 5) (8 page)

The falling stopped all at once. The vertigo lingered for a few seconds, as did the ticklish quiver in his stomach that came with the fall.

Earl stood in a world of pure white. But he did not mistake this place as heavenly just because of its color. No. He knew he had landed in the presence of demons. A secret place between all planes of existence. The place where lost souls came to wander in nothingness, for eternity.

He staggered backward, gazing up and around like a tourist in New York City admiring the skyscrapers surrounding him. So much of nothing. It didn’t seem possible.

Something slithered between his thighs and wrapped itself from crotch to kneecap. But when he looked down, he saw nothing. Still, a slimy chill spread from his groin, through his stomach, and straight into his heart.

He shivered.

Who’s there?

A snicker rose from below him.
I am.

Who are you?

Another snicker, a little deeper, thicker, with a liquid edge.
A fellow traveler.

Hell no, if this thing thought Earl belonged here like the other souls. He had a tether to the living world, but he didn’t dare share that tidbit. Motherfucking thing might try to hitch a ride back with him.

Let go,
Earl said.

But you’re so warm. So very warm.
The thing wrapped tighter around his leg like a python suffocating its prey. Pain pushed down to his bone.

Earl took a deep breath, simulating the meditative state, and let the pain exist outside his perception. Whatever kind of demonic soul had him, Earl didn’t know how to get rid of it. He should have been more prepared, but after failing to destroy the Chosen One, he hadn’t had time to learn how to fight demon souls. He needed to speak with his master before they lost their trace on the girl.

Should he ignore the creature? No matter how well practiced Earl was with the meditative state, if the soul squeezed any tighter, the pain would be impossible to ignore.

Could he reason with the fucker?

What do you want with me?

The cold rolling off the thing burrowed its way up to Earl’s neck. Knowing that it wasn’t his physical neck, just a mental construct of his soul, did nothing to comfort him. The demon, physical or not, could kill his soul as easily as a burst of rounds from Earl’s rifle through his brain.

I told you. Your warmth.

The thing sensed Earl’s difference, the life that still lit his soul. It might not understand what it felt, but even demons had instincts. Somehow Earl had to convince the thing it didn’t really want what Earl had, or trick it into thinking Earl’s
warmth
had faded.

Remember what your mind can control, Earl recalled his master telling him in a dream once. Your mind dominates you. Tap into that dominance and it will set you free.

Which was what Earl did in the meditative state. Not as fully as his master suggested—not yet. Still, he had to try something.

Just like he was doing with his physical body, Earl sat down and tucked his legs in akimbo. He sat on pure white, nothingness. He felt like he should still be falling. Something held him up in the middle of this oblivion, though.

The demon hugged Earl’s leg tighter, cutting circulation to almost nothing.

There is no such thing as circulation in this place
, Earl told himself. That didn’t make it feel any less real.

Why does it sit?
the demon hissed, snakelike.

Earl ignored the question. The cold oozed through his entire spectral body now. He shivered, feeling naked in a winter storm, even though this place had no seasons and no requirement for clothes. It was just the way Earl translated sensations in the Inbetween. His mortal soul mimicked what it had learned from forty years of existence on a physical plane.

He closed his eyes.

What does it do?

Earl could sense panic in the thing. It didn’t understand Earl’s actions because it had spent too much time wandering in oblivion. For all Earl knew, the demon could have been here for centuries. Plenty of time to forget the meaning or use of physical activity.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Earl’s mouth. From somewhere came the scent of roses—the scent of the candles burning in the open skeletal palms on either side of the altar. Earl pictured the smiling skull situated at the top of the stacks of ribs, arm bones, leg bones, and spines that made up the altar. He recalled the dusty, ashen feel of the altar’s shelf of bones between the hands holding the candles.

These were the bones of his brothers who had given their lives for the cause. Their deaths did not stop them from continuing their contributions.

Earl’s soul must have changed its vibe. The demon quivered around his leg. The wet taste of its fear rolled over Earl’s tongue. Earl’s smirk stretched to a full grin.

What’s the matter, demon? Do you fear me?

The invisible beast wrenched itself so tightly Earl expected to hear his bones crack. Pain sparked up into his groin and made his stomach hitch. Bile burned the back of his throat. All the whiteness dimmed.

Could he fall unconscious in this place?

Fuck if he would find out.

He sucked in the deepest breath his diaphragm would allow, ballooning his belly until it hurt a little. He tried to focus in on that small pain, hoping to replace the larger agony from the demon’s squeezing. For a second, he held on. Then the pain through his thigh and into his guts overwhelmed his concentration.

His exhale came out in a sloppy shudder.

He couldn’t expect a single breath to take him to full control. He had to fight his way into the meditative state. He took another deep breath. He focused on his belly’s expansion again. The demon squeezed harder. It said something too, but Earl’s concentration kept the words from slithering into his mind.

Blocking out words was easy.

Pain, not so much.

Still, as he continued to breathe in and out, slowing the pace, sinking deeper into his center of being, the pain began to fade. It didn’t go away. Nothing so strong could disappear from sensation entirely. Earl could let it pass every time it reared up on him, though.

I can control
, he said, imagining his master standing before him with an approving smile.
I am control
.

Earl opened himself up enough to check on the demon’s reaction. A pulse of pure terror hit Earl so hard he mistook it for his own. But, no, it was the demon’s fear he felt. It was time to move to the next stage.

Earl used the demon’s cold as fuel, pulling it deeper into him, masking the heat of his soul.

The serpent squealed like a pig being gutted alive. Its hold on Earl flexed and released.
Where does its warmth go?

Colder. Colder still. Cold so sharp and deep, Earl thought he might kill his connection to life and abandon his body to remain lost in the Inbetween like the rest of the souls here. Like the demon that fed on him now.

But the more he let his life essence chill, the more the beast fought.

I have nothing left for you, he told the demon.

It screamed in response, a scream too human for a creature like this. Earl’s skin cringed against his muscles and bones at the sound. He wondered if it had remembered what it used to be, what it had lost so long ago.

Let go, demon. You’ve lost what you seek.

The thing’s wrapped grip slackened. Something like a whisper in a foreign language expelled from the area where Earl felt it still around his thigh.

A moment later, Earl felt the thing slither back the way it had come, down between his legs, giving Earl’s shriveled balls one last cold caress. Despite the feel of a “floor” under Earl, the demon seemed to travel downward. Physics had no place in this realm.

Earl let a shaky breath whistle out his pursed lips. His body trembled with cold. What he’d drawn in himself faded quickly once he disconnected from the meditative state. But the chill from the demon soul lingered like the ghost of a lost limb.

Well done.

The voice came from behind Earl, and he recognized it at once.

He spun around and fell to his knees before his master.

His master looked like a royal bishop in a long, purple robe lined with white fur, glittering diamonds sprinkled throughout the fur. The robe hung open, revealing his belt buckle, the shape of a goat head, that shined like a heavenly star. To look up at this legend’s soul as if he truly knelt at the master’s feet was an honor Earl would have never imagined seven years ago, before the master’s death, when Earl only knew the man by reputation, like a celebrity. Hell, he
was
a celebrity, more worthy of the title than that douche bag Tom Cruise. A fool who worshiped a ridiculous fiction when reality had itself a shit-ton of magic all its own.

He knew the image of his master’s soul reflected Earl’s own ideal and not what the man had looked like in life. Didn’t make the experience any less majestic, though.

My master,
Earl said in a whisper of awe.

Stand, Earl. You’ve proven yourself my equal.

Earl stood, but kept his gaze lowered, the flesh of his face warming.
Not nearly an equal.

Look at me.

Earl lifted his gaze and met his master’s eyes. They shone with an intelligence Earl would never have. Growing up in southern Appalachia, Earl hadn’t known anyone with that kind of smarts. Check on Earl’s accent before now. People like Earl never had the chance for learning. Only his niece had a hint of brains, and only because he had rescued her from her own family and spent the last four years setting her straight so memories of what her Daddy did wouldn’t ruin her.

The wicked soul you just shook off came from me. A test, which you passed. And without any preparation for fighting such a thing. This has earned you a place at my side, not at my feet. Humility is worthless to a soldier of the Dawn. Don’t worship me, Earl. Join me.

Earl bowed his head again, then quickly looked up so as not to insult his master.
Right, sir. I gotcha.

His master laughed from deep in his throat, a rich and smooth tone, like that black fella from that baseball movie where some dummy builds a baseball field in his cornfield.

You can start by quitting the formalities with me.
His master stepped over to Earl and draped an arm across Earl’s shoulders.

A thrill ran through Earl at the contact. This here was a historic moment in Earl’s life. It firmed up his dedication to the cause. He had entered the Inbetween as a live soul and communicated with the greatest soul ever born. A hero. A god, almost.

Okay, sir…I mean…
He turned his head to look to his master for guidance. What else could he call this fabled man other than master?

His master—or whatever Earl should call him—smiled, showing teeth as straight and white as those folks on TV advertising toothpaste. His breath even smelled a little minty.

You have two choices.
His master—he couldn’t stop thinking of him that way; probably never would no matter what the man wanted Earl to call him—hugged Earl tighter with his arm around Earl’s shoulders. He reached across with his free hand and patted Earl’s cheek. His palm’s skin felt like the soft fleece Earl used to wear when he went coon hunting with Pap. All the man’s perfections were a testament to his ability to control the form of his soul. And if the master truly had sent the snakelike soul as a test of strength, it meant he had control of more than just his own self.

Are you listening, Earl?

Yes—
He almost said sir, but caught himself in time.

You may call me Gabriel, which is what I’d prefer, since we are partners in this endeavor. But I know your southern manners might be more comfortable with Mr. Dolan.

Hearing his master’s name made Earl’s heartbeat race.

Thank you, Mr. Dolan. That’s right nice of you.

Chapter Sixteen

C
IGARETTE PINCHED BETWEEN HER LIPS
, Elka squinted against the smoke as she marched, naked and fresh from another shower (in her own bathroom this time), toward her bedroom to pick out a new outfit and start packing.

A blinking in the corner of her eye stopped her in the living room. Next to her threadbare couch, Elka had set up a narrow computer desk for her Mac. She left the computer running at all times. It’s where she conducted her search, lurking on forums dedicated to various aspects of the paranormal. She would also enter chat rooms under false identities, questioning those who claimed they came from planes other than the mortal one. Most of these fools, after a couple questions, revealed themselves as posers, wannabes. She could understand their desire to be something other than human, but pretending on the computer would never change their sorry existence.

The flashing that caught Elka’s attention came from a small chat window indicating she had a new message.

Elka took a long drag on her cigarette, then took it from her lips. She exhaled a thick stream of smoke that curled like a spirit from the Beyond while she stared at the screen across the room. Her heartbeat quickened. A light, ticklish feeling filled her chest. While she couldn’t read the text of the message from where she stood, she could make out the username above the window displayed in larger type.

UniLover69.

She had long since gotten over the ridiculous handle. UniLover had always given Elka good material he—or she; the user on the other side of the chat window never specified—found around the web. Not all of it relevant to Elka’s goals—she didn’t get too specific with her sources in case word of her queries ended up in the wrong hands—but all of it
real
. None of the bullshit the posers wanted to pass off as “amazing proof of the supernatural.”

The message box winked at her, beckoned her.

The smell of cigarette smoke curled into Elka’s nose. For some reason it smelled richer to her, almost sweet. She drew on the cigarette, savoring the taste, which had also changed, carrying the same sweetness as the smell. Mortals would pass off such quirks of the senses without a thought of their significance. Elka knew, though, that these moments were small premonitions. Magical instinct.