Daemons Are Forever Page 13

  And finally, there was Janissary Jane her own bad self, shouldering her way through the packed crowd to the bar, in search of a fresh whiskey bottle. One of the bartenders was waiting for her, and she snatched the refill out of his hand and drank the cheap whiskey straight from the bottle. She looked like the soldier she was; tall and blocky with muscular bare arms, a ramrod-straight back, and black hair cropped close to her head so an enemy couldn’t grab hold of it in a fight. She might have been pretty once, but all that was left now was scars and character. Her army fatigues were scorched and torn and stained with dried blood, and I knew up close she would smell of blood and smoke and brimstone. The whiskey was actually a good sign; gin made her maudlin, and then she tended to shoot people. Mostly people who needed shooting, but it did tend to put a damper on the party atmosphere.

  The Wulfshead has never objected to her presence. Apparently they feel she gives the place character.

  I called her name, from a safe distance, and her head came around quickly, one hand dropping to the gun at her side. I stood very still until I was sure she’d recognised me, and then gestured for her to come over and join Molly and me. She took her hand away from her gun, nodded stiffly, and made her way down the bar, shouldering people aside when they didn’t get out of her way fast enough. No one was dumb enough to object. This was Janissary Jane. Demon killer, seasoned warrior, and complete bloody psychopath. She stopped before Molly and me, studied us both just a little owlishly, and then toasted us both with her whiskey bottle.

  “Hello, Jane,” I said easily.

  “Hello, Shaman,” Janissary Jane said pointedly. She was perhaps the only other person here who knew I was a Drood. “What do you want with me?”

  “I’m organising a major operation against some demons,” I said. “I could use your advise and expertise. You’ll get the going rate for the duration, plus a generous bonus if we pull the thing off successfully.”

  “Hold it,” said Molly. “We’re paying her?”

  “Of course,” I said. “She wouldn’t come otherwise. Would you, Jane?”

  “I am a professional,” said Janissary Jane. “But who exactly would I be fighting for?”

  “Does it matter?” I said.

  “Of course it matters!” Janissary Jane said sharply. “There are worse things than demons. Like the Droods, for example . . .”

  “Not this time,” I said. “We’re targeting the Loathly Ones, and we won’t stop till they’re either wiped out completely or banished forever.”

  Janissary Jane whistled soundlessly and took another drink from her bottle. She considered me thoughtfully. “The Loathly Ones. That’s . . . ambitious. Hate demons. Bastards. But soul-eaters are the very worst . . . On the other hand, I’ve been hearing things. About the Droods. Word is something bad has happened to them. No one seems too sure what, but there are those going around saying they’ve lost their power.”

  “There are always rumours,” I said easily. “All you need to know is that the money’s guaranteed. We’re serious about the Loathly Ones, Jane. And we could use your help.”

  “Damn right you could. The Loathly Ones are hardcore demons. Soul-eaters don’t just kill you; they make you into them.” She smiled slowly. “There’s no way I’m missing out on this. If the Loathly Ones are finally going down, I want to be there to kick the last few heads in. You want me, you got me.”

  “Great,” I said. “Just got to pick up a few more people, and then I’ll take you back home to meet the folks.”

  Janissary Jane raised an eyebrow. “Home? As in . . . the Hall? Damn, never thought I’d see the inside of that place.”

  “So, what have you been up to, Jane?” said Molly, just a little bit put out at being excluded from the conversation for so long.

  “Oh, keeping busy,” said Janissary Jane. “Just got back from another Demon War. Truth be told, I’m getting a bit long in the tooth for these long runs, but the call went out and I signed up, just like always. Ended up in this alternate timeline where technology had become so advanced they’d forgotten all about magic. They thought they were just opening up a doorway into another dimension; turned out to be a gate to Hell. The demons just came pouring out, killing everything in sight, howling with joy at such easy prey . . . and all the technology in the world wasn’t enough to stop them.

  “The sun turned black, the rivers ran with blood, and demons covered the earth in all their endless varieties of horror. Nowhere was safe. There were no churches, or holy places. And weapons only designed to kill people had little effect on demons. Humanity in that place had forgotten all the old protections. They learned fast, though. And somehow they got the call out to us. We opened up our own dimensional door and off we went again, to fight the good fight.

  “And to kill demons. Hate demons.”

  “How many wars have you fought in?” I said, honestly curious.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Too many. Won some, lost more, and lost too many good friends along the way. I’m a lot older than I look; serial regenerations will do that to you. Though they don’t stop you feeling old inside. Once I fought because I believed in my cause. Then because I hated demons. Now, just because . . . it’s what I do.”

  “Still,” I said. “An actual hellgate, a direct link between a material plane and the Pit; that’s rare, isn’t it?”

  “Very,” said Janissary Jane. “Or humanity would have been wiped out long ago. We had a whole army of seasoned demon fighters, heroes and warriors and soldiers, veterans of a hundred wars, and all we could do was die. We had the weapons and the tactics, but they had the numbers. I saw cities burning, mountains of severed heads, waded through blood and guts . . . The screaming never stopped. Eventually the very laws of reality started to change, warped by the presence of so many demons. We fought them for every inch, climbing over the bodies of our own fallen to throw ourselves at the enemy . . . and none of it did any good. We killed and killed, and still they came, laughing at us.”

  She stopped speaking then. She started to raise the whiskey bottle to her mouth, and then lowered it again, as though she knew it wouldn’t help. Her cold gray eyes were far away, lost in memories she couldn’t forget, no matter how hard she tried.

  “So, what happened?” Molly said finally.

  “That dimension isn’t there anymore,” said Janissary Jane. “The demons were winning, so we blew it up, to prevent the demons from using it as a base to invade other dimensions.” She smiled sourly. “To save the universe, we had to destroy it. Some things never change. And only I am escaped to tell you the tale. Buy me another drink, Shaman. Something stronger.”

  “You don’t have to join up with us,” said Molly.

  “Yes I do,” said Janissary Jane. “I need a battle I can win.”

  “Oh dear God, it’s you,” said a familiar voice. We all looked around, and there was the Blue Fairy. He was looking a lot better than the last time I’d seen him, but then, that wouldn’t have been difficult. That Blue Fairy had been on his last legs, physically and spiritually, and the figure before us was leaner, fitter, and dressed in the very smartest style. His face was still utterly dissolute, the few handsome traces remaining almost buried under lines of hard experience, but you had to expect that with the Blue Fairy. He had lived not wisely but too well, and it showed. He scowled at all of us, but me in particular.

  “My half elf nature told me I’d be meeting someone important at the Wulfshead this evening, but if I’d known it was going to be you, I’d have stayed home and hidden under the covers until I stopped shaking.”

  “You’re looking good, Blue,” I said kindly. “Especially considering, the last time I saw you, you were fighting for your life with some monstrosity you’d fished up from another dimension.”

  The Blue Fairy shrugged. “Turned out it was just what I needed. Some kind of psychic vampire that ate all my addictions. I suppose it’s possible I subconsciously drew it to me.”

  “Some people have all the luck,” said M
olly.

  “Hardly,” said the Blue Fairy. “Or I wouldn’t keep bumping into you people. Either way, I now have my health back, and my pride, and loath as I am to admit it, I am currently looking for some good works to get involved with, for the sake of my much abused karma. Since my nature brought me here, am I to take it you can help me out?”

  “Got it in one,” I said. “I’m putting together an operation to take down the Loathly Ones, once and for all. A family outing, you might say. We could use your help, Blue.”

  “Is the money good?”

  “Of course.”

  “Yes, well, it would have to be.” The Blue Fairy shook his head dolefully. “Never thought I’d see the day when I ended up aiding and abetting your notorious clan . . .”

  “It’s Shaman Bond here,” I reminded him quickly. The Blue Fairy was another of those I’d been forced to reveal my true identity to when I was on the run. It seemed to me that there were far too many of them, but short of organising a cull, I didn’t see what I could do about it.

  “Yes, yes, I hadn’t forgotten. I’m not entirely sure what I can contribute, apart from years of expertise in surviving appalling situations, but I’m in.”

  Molly gave me a significant look over the rim of her glass, and I knew what she was thinking. You can’t trust him. He’s half elf, and you can never trust an elf. They always have a secret agenda, and another agenda hidden inside that.

  “Well, well, well, look what we have here,” said a loud and cheerful voice behind us, in a strong Russian accent. “If it isn’t our dear old friend and customer, the Blue Fairy. Looking very prosperous, I would have to say. Fancy meeting you here, in this very expensive and upmarket establishment, when you have so many debts to be paying.”

  We all turned to look, and there standing before us were two very large gentlemen in expensive long black leather coats, with shaven heads and nasty grins on their unpleasant faces. The Blue Fairy took one look at them and tried to hide behind me.

  “Blue,” I said, “am I to take it you know these people?”

  “Unfortunately yes,” said the Blue Fairy. “May I present to you the Vodyanoi brothers, Russian mafiosi who relocated to London after making Moscow too hot for them. I borrowed a hell of a lot of money from them, when I thought I was dying, and spent the lot on wine, drugs, and two very pretty rent boys. I honestly thought I’d be dead long before the time came to pay any of it back . . . Unfortunately, while all the money is gone, I am still here, and these gentlemen want their money back. Along with a quite extortionate amount of interest.”

  “Indeed yes. We are Vodyanoi brothers!” said the thug on the left. “I am Gregor Vodyanoi, and this is being my baby brother Sergei Vodyanoi! We are being very dangerous people.”

  “Very dangerous people indeed!” said Sergei, glaring at us all in turn. “Oh my word, yes.”

  “Show them how dangerous we are, brother,” said Gregor.

  Sergei produced a very large handgun from his coat pocket, put it to his left temple, grinned at us all with very large teeth, and then shot himself in the head. He rocked on his feet from the impact, but didn’t fall. There was no spurt of blood from the wound in his head, and the hole quickly closed. All around us, people were quietly backing away. Sergei gargled a few times, and then spat the deformed bullet out into his hand. He showed it to us, while Gregor slapped his brother proudly on the back.

  “Unusually dangerous, I think you’ll agree,” said Gregor. “Now, there is a question of moneys owed to us. Substantial moneys, with much in the way of interest. Due right now, oh my word, yes.”

  “Or very much else,” said Sergei. “We are Vodyanoi brothers, and no one is taking the advantage of us.”

  The Blue Fairy looked at me. “Help?”

  “I should have known you’d be more trouble than you were worth,” I said.

  “I suppose an advance is out of the question?”

  I smiled at the Vodyanoi brothers. “Any chance we can work this out in a civilised manner?”

  “We do not do civilised,” said Gregor.

  “Bad for business,” said Sergei.

  “Either he pays up, or we eat him,” said Gregor, smiling widely to show off his very large teeth. “Setting an example is being very important, in our line of work.”

  I turned to Molly. “Darling, could you take care of this?”

  “Of course, darling,” said Molly. She snapped her fingers, and the Vodyanoi brothers vanished, replaced by two small and warty and very surprised-looking frogs sitting on the floor. I looked reproachfully at Molly.

  “I meant, take care of the problem financially.”

  “Then you should have said,” said Molly, sipping her drink.

  I shook my head. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

  “I hate to rain on your self-satisfied parade,” said Janissary Jane. “But I have a feeling things are about to get really unpleasant.”

  We all looked back at the toads just in time to see them swell rapidly in size, throwing off their toad shapes and bursting out in all directions, until abruptly the Vodyanoi brothers were standing before us again, still in their black leather coats, and looking distinctly peeved. The Blue Fairy tried to hide behind me again.

  “That was really not very nice,” said Gregor.

  “Not in the least friendly, or businesslike,” said Sergei.

  “Time to become dangerous, brother.”

  “Extremely dangerous, brother.”

  And they changed shape again, shooting up to become taller and broader, their faces lengthening into muzzles, their black coats replaced by the silver-gray fur of enormous wolves. Werewolves. They towered over us, all teeth and claws, with great muscles rippling under their thick pelts. They stank of blood and death and the joy of the kill. They snarled happily, showing huge teeth in their long jaws. I glared at the Blue Fairy.

  “You couldn’t have told us in advance that they were shapeshifters?”

  “You never gave me a chance!”

  “Next time, talk faster!”

  I couldn’t call up my armour without revealing my true identity to the whole damned club, so I drew my Colt Repeater and shot both werewolves repeatedly in the head. The impacts rocked them back on their wolf legs, but even as my bullets smashed their long skulls and ripped their wolf faces apart, the wounds were already healing. The Colt was incapable of missing, but it couldn’t provide silver bullets. I made a mental note to have a quiet word with the Armourer about that, when I got back. The Vodyanoi brothers howled fiercely as they pressed forward, into the face of my bullets. I’d hurt them, but that was all.

  The Blue Fairy had already disappeared under the nearest table. Janissary Jane produced two long punch daggers from the tops of her boots. The jagged edges of the long blades gleamed with silver. Janissary Jane grinned nastily and waded into the two werewolves, hacking and stabbing at them with her very nasty blades. Blood flew on the air as the knives cut deep, and she dodged and ducked every blow the two huge werewolves could throw at her, doing what she did best and doing it magnificently.

  Until one of the Vodyanoi brothers finally connected with a solid blow, and Janissary Jane went flying into the watching crowd. She hit the floor hard and didn’t rise again.

  People were backing away in all directions now, but not so far they couldn’t get a good view of what was happening. Many were already laying bets, and cheering or booing as the mood took them. The Wulfshead’s security measures finally kicked in, spraying the Vodyanoi brothers with holy water from the sprinklers and targeting them with lasers from the light fittings, neither of which bothered the two huge werewolves in the least. The club did have more stringent measures, but presumably the management was reluctant to use them unless the fight escalated into something that could threaten the whole bar. Which meant . . . my friends and I were strictly on our own.

  Molly had been tossing spells at the Vodyanoi brothers for some time now, but they just slid off, unable to get a grip on the werewolv
es’ slippery, unnatural nature. The toad spell had only worked because it caught the brothers by surprise. Molly had been reduced to throwing fireballs at them, but though the silver-gray fur burned fiercely and smelled appalling, it quickly repaired itself.

  So I took out Merlin’s Glass, shook it out to full size, said the proper activating Words, and darted in between the two werewolves. Vicious claws slashed through the air, only just missing me, and then I reared up, clapped the Glass over the nearest werewolf, and transported it instantly to the Arctic Circle. The other brother stopped dead, astounded, and I clapped the Glass over him and sent him to the Antarctic. Good luck walking home from that one, boys . . .

  The club’s security systems immediately shut down, and relative calm returned to the Wulfshead as everyone paid off their bets and went back to what they were doing. I put Merlin’s Glass away and went to see how Janissary Jane was doing. She was already sitting up and checking herself for injuries. Tough old broad. She slapped my proffered helping hand aside and got to her feet unaided.

  “I’m fine. Don’t fuss, Shaman. Take more than a couple of imported werewolves to put me down. They’d never have tagged me at all if I hadn’t already been a bit tired from the last Demon War.”

  “Of course,” I said soothingly, but I had to wonder . . . Was a time when no one could have tagged her, under any conditions. Maybe she was getting a little old . . . but then, I only really wanted her as a tutor, not a soldier. We went back to Molly, who was dragging the Blue Fairy out from under his table. One of the bartenders nodded his thanks to me.