Magic - Chapter 47

This is the second book in The Godsverse Chronicles, a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.

Ollie wasn't looking for trouble, but after she saved the Antichrist from being slaughtered, it came for her.

Ollie lived by one rule. Never get involved with anyone for any reason; humans, demons, fae folk, it didn't matter. They were all trouble. Keeping her distance was how she survived in the criminal underworld for so long.

Keep your head down and don't piss anyone off. That was her motto, especially since her clients all had access to powerful dark magic.

She thought she had a flawless system for keeping her nose clean, so how did she wind up in a stolen car, with a demon spawn in her back seat, driving away from her ex-lover and a gang of demons ready to skin her alive?

That's a good question.

And why did she agree to help save the demon's life so she didn't get sacrificed to open the gates of Hell?

An even better question.

She had one rule. One stupid rule. And tonight...it goes right down the toilet.

Now, the only way for Ollie to get her life back is to save the girl, prevent the Apocalypse, and track down the people who betrayed her.

They will pay. Oh yes, they will all pay.

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I didn’t make it to small towns very often. Most of my work centered on major cities and their surrounding suburbs. Every now and again, an object or potion led me to one of the world’s smaller towns, and Plockton was one of the smallest I had been to in recent memory.

One thing about small towns that was consistent across my experience was that there was a dearth of monsters and magical people in them since it was easier to blend in with the milieu in denser populations. Plockton was different in that respect. It was overrun with monsters everywhere I looked. You could toss a rock from one side of the city to another without much effort, but you would certainly hit some monster or another with it.

We walked down the town’s main and only street until we found a pub called The Seamus in the town square, just like Mom said it would be, sitting on an unassuming corner. The Seamus might have been impressive by small-town Scotland standards, but wasn’t much more than a two-bit saloon in Los Angeles. Fewer than a dozen monsters speckled the bar, all drinking by themselves, staring off in silence.

“That him?” Blezor asked, whispering to me.

“Unclear,” I replied.

“What can I get you?” A brightly-colored demon said, wiping down the end of the bar. Most demons were a dull red, orange, or burnt yellow. However, this one shimmered like a diamond. I could see what my mother saw in him, I guess. If I were to picture an angel with a demon, he would be the type I would imagine them with—also, gross.

“Ummm…I’m looking for The Bar?” I said.

“You found it,” the bartender replied. “Unless you think all this liquor is just for show.”

Groan. Dad jokes. I held up the golden headband and showed it to him. “Muriel would hate that joke.”

The demon’s face dropped, and his eyes went wide. He rushed around the bar and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Ollie? Ollie, is that you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t like being touc—”

He didn’t care that I didn’t like being touched. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into the air, laughing. “Everyone, look. It’s my daughter!”

They all looked at me for a moment and muttered under their breath an unimpressed huzzah, raising their glasses in tacit acknowledgment and tempered enthusiasm.

“I really don’t like attention. So, now you’re oh for two.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, dropping me to the ground. “I just…never thought I would see you, is all. This is incredible. I’m a little taken aback.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “The feeling is mutual. I thought you were in Hell.”

“I was, but you know. I’m a pretty popular demon to summon. Easy on the eyes, and I’m supposed to grant you the power of luck. Complete bologna, but it’s good marketing, which means I’m never down there for long.” He walked back behind the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll take a triple whiskey,” Blezor said.

“No,” I said. “We’re not here for a social visit. We need to find The Bar.”

“Why would you need that stupid place? I make a great Manhattan. It’s to die for.” He slapped a ghoul lightly on the arm. “Tell her, Angus.”

“It’s great.” The ghoul raised his glass to his lips and took a long, enchanted sip.

“That sounds good,” Blezor said.

“Dad…” God, it felt weird saying that word. “Please.”

“No,” he said. “I haven’t seen you in decades, and that’s all you can say to me? Please?”

“She’s very self-centered that way,” Blezor said.

“Shut up,” I snapped. It was a fair hit, but still.

Dad pursed his lips. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll take you to The Bar if you first indulge me in an old Scottish pastime.”

“What is it?” I asked.

He poured a glass of whiskey for me. “Getting sloshed.”

I could think of worse ways to spend an evening. “And then you’ll take me. Swear?”

“I swear.” He crossed his heart. “Hope to die.” 

“I can make that happen if you’re lying to me.” I grabbed the glass and downed it in one gulp. “Deal.”

“Slangevar!”

It turned out my father was a pretty fun hang. He told me stories about Hell and his time in Plockton, where he always returned after cavorting around the world. He had traveled the world since the beginning of humanity.

“There was one time when I met Lot, okay, you know Lot, right? Lotta bitterness in Lot, you know, with the wife who turned to salt? So, I turn to him one time after he’s moaning about something, and I say to him, ‘you seem salty.’ Get it? Salty? Cuz of his wife?”

“Oh, I get it, Mr. White,” Blezor said. “It’s not funny, plus you already told that story three hours ago.”

I rimmed my whiskey glass with my finger. “He makes a good point. We’ve been good sports and had plenty of drink with you. Now, you need to take us to The Bar.”

Dad finished his drink, which was just a bottle of Scotch he’d pulled from behind the bar, so he didn’t have to clean a glass. His face was full of scorn, not directed at me or Blezor. “Why do you want to go there? I don’t—I don’t like it there.”

“You don’t have to go in,” I said. “Just bring us to the entrance, and we’ll handle the rest.”

“Why do ya—why do ya wanna go there? I mean, I am a demon. Maybe I could help. Maybe your dear old dad could help, ya know?” He burped. “You ever think of that?”

“Fine,” I replied, slamming my hand on the table. “Tell me everything you know about Et’atal then. Is he still in Hell? How is he communicating with his demons on Earth?”

Dad blinked profusely. “You don’t—ya don’t wanna deal with that one. He’s—he’s crazy, man. Even for a demon he’s—he’s crazy.”

“I don’t want to deal with him.” I pulled the dagger out of my pocket and stuck it deep into the table. “I aim to kill him, and if you don’t help me, then I’m inclined to kill you too.”

“Threatening your own dad?” Blezor said. “That’s low, even for you. I love it.”

I pointed my finger at my dear dad’s chest. “I’ve never met this demon before today, and since I’ve known him, all he’s been is a prick. At least Mom was a prick that stuck around.”

“Is that what this is about? Listen, your mom forced me out of Los Angeles. She warded the crap out of that city to prevent me from seeing you. I tried—I did…I really did.”

“How hard?” I asked.

“What?” Dad asked.

“How hard did you try?” I said, making sure to hit every single syllable. “How hard did you try to see me?”

“I mean—” He flailed his arms wildly. “Hard enough.”

I pulled the dagger from the table. “I don’t believe it. If you had tried hard enough, you would have seen me. Nothing would have stopped you. God—”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Dad said.

“You have any idea what I went through?” I stood up and kicked the chair out of the way and lunged toward him. “Do you have any idea what kind of psychopath you left me with?”

“I do,” Dad said. “That’s what I love about her.”

I threw my hands in the air. “You two really do deserve each other. Never mind, I’ll find this place myself.”

Dad’s face turned deathly serious. “You really don’t want to go after Et’atal. He’s as connected as any demon in Hell. Even Lucifer is scared of him.” He looked up at me. “I’m trying…to protect you. That’s what a dad is supposed to do.”

“I don’t need a dad,” I snapped. “I need a guide. Are you going to show me or not? Last chance. If I walk out of that door without you, I’m not coming back, ever. If I see you again—” I held up the knife, “I will end you, permanently.”

“And if I help you?” he asked.

“Who knows?” I shrugged. “I only know what will happen if you don’t help me.”

He pushed up from his chair and slammed the bottle on the bar so hard it shattered. “I’ll get that later.” Then he turned to me, trying hard to put one foot in front of the other and failing miserably. “Let’s go.” 

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This is the second book in The Godsverse Chronicles, a portal fantasy series with mythological roots and action-adventure tendencies. You can search through all my work on my website.

Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other series and every article I’ve ever written.

If you are not a paid member, you can read everything with a 7-day free trial, or give us a one-time tip.