Magic - Chapter 48

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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Dad stumbled down the streets of Plockton, using the lamp posts and edges of houses to steady himself. I thought he would vomit, and twice he stopped to dry heave, but he was able to hold it back.

“I have to admit,” Blezor said, trying to keep Dad upright. “I thought a demon would be able to hold their liquor better.”

“That—that was Fyre—” Dad hiccupped. “Brewed in Hell. I only—only use it on special—special occasions—” He smiled at me. “Like seeing my da—my daughter—”

“It would have been nice if you remembered it,” I said under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear. “Instead of getting blackout drunk.”

“I’ll rember—remember—” He poked his forehead. “Mind like a—steel—Oh god—” He heaved again, leaning against the side of a quaint cottage that didn’t deserve a drunken expectoration from a demon. Blezor rubbed his back until Dad slapped him away. “Get off—I don’t needyer pity—I’m good."

“We don’t pity you,” I said, grabbing him by the arm. “We pity ourselves for having to put up with you.”

“I pity him,” Blezor said. “I mean, look at the guy. He’s clearly in pain.”

“What do you know?” I asked.

“I’ve dealt with my own unrequited love from you.” Blezor wrapped Dad’s other arm around his shoulder. “I know about pain.”

“Enough!” Dad flapped his arms and fell backward away from us. “Whadid—What did I say—no pity for me.”

I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose. “Are we almost there?”

Dad walked forward, but instead of stumbling further down the street, a purple spark knocked him backward. A giant orb of light sparked for a moment and then vanished. Where there had been nothing a moment before, an abandoned building materialized in front of me. It was shrouded in darkness, but when I looked again, hundreds of fireflies lit the cozy-looking house behind the forcefield.

“What the—” Blezor said.

“We’re here,” Dad said, rubbing his forehead.

I helped him stand up. “So, that’s why Mom forced me to find you. It’s enchanted, so only somebody who’s been before can lead somebody to it.”

“Precisely,” he replied. “It’s a dumb—I don’t like it—”

“How do we break the forcefield?” I asked.

“Walk with gusto—determi—detona—detriment—”

“Determination?” Blezor offered.

“Bingo.” Dad slipped back down to the ground like all his bones were made of jelly. “Bango.”

“You stay here and help him get back to the bar,” I said to Blezor. “Maybe get him some coffee or something. I’ll meet you back at the bar when I’m done.”

“So I’m a babysitter, then?”

“Yup. A glorified one, at least. You can take some pride in that.”

I took a deep breath and pushed through the forcefield, channeling all the will and determination in my body. An electrical charge rushed over every inch of my skin as the forcefield tried to prevent me from moving through it like I was fighting against the ocean current.

With a loud pop, I was finally through. I stumbled toward the door, trying to slow the momentum I’d built up through the forcefield. I latched onto one of the pillars holding up the porch roof. After I had regained my composure, I looked back. It was hard to make out Blezor helping Dad to his feet through the warped translucence of the magical barrier.

 I made my way up the steps to the door and pushed it open. Inside was a sight I never thought I would witness—dozens of angels and demons, cavorting together across long, wooden picnic tables, laughing and humming together, as a musician played a piano in the corner. Weren’t demons and angels on opposite sides?

I made my way past a couple of demons making out together and toward the bar at the far end of the room where a man with thick, red hair covering every corner of his face poured a glass of grog for an imp waiting impatiently nearby.

I could see whether somebody was a monster, and there was no doubt the bartender was a human—just a normal, everyday human, surrounded by monsters and angels.

“What can I get for ya, stranger?” He spoke with a thick Scottish brogue.

“What…is happening here?” I asked, my face scrunching in confusion.

The man laughed. “First time, is it?”

I nodded. “Obviously.”

“Well, you caught me on a busy night, so I’ll give you the short version. My great-great-great great-grandpa accidentally summoned a demon while making himself a snack.”

“How do you accidentally—”

The man continued, like he had told this story a million times, and wouldn’t be stopped for anything. “They got to talking, and learned they had a lot in common. Grandpa asked if he wanted a beer, and over a hundred years later, here we are.”

“How do you go from one demon to this place?”

“That part’s easy. One demon tells another, and then another, and then another. Soon enough, whenever a demon was summoned to Earth, they came to pay respects to Grandpa. That brought the angels, who wanted to keep tabs on the demons, and Grandpa offered them a beer, too. Eventually, this became a sort of waystation for angels and demons alike. A safe spot where they can let down their hair and grab a beer between missions.”

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen,” I said, looking around.

“Then you must not have been around long.”

“No, I’ve been around plenty, and still, this is the weirdest thing.”

The man smiled through his red beard. “Then you need a weirder life.”

“I guess so.”

“Now,” he said. “What can I get you? Beer, grog, ale, mead?”  

“I’m looking for information on Et’atal.”

At the utterance of the demon’s name, everything stopped. The piano ceased, as did the chatter, and all eyes turned to me.

“Where did you learn that name?” one of the demons said from his spot at the bar next to me.

“From a rat king in Seattle.”

“We don’t talk about him here,” the bartender said. “There’s no more feared name in all of Hell. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

I shook my head. “I can’t do that. My mother, Muriel, told me I could find out information on where to find Et’atal here and how to find him, so I can kill him.”

The bartender chuckled. “I’m ‘fraid we don’t plot the murder of demons here. Like I said, this is a safe space. Besides, you kill a demon, they just go back to Hell.”

I reached into my coat and slammed the dagger into the bar. “I vaporized plenty of demons with this dagger last time I used it. They didn’t die. They just disintegrated. I plan to do it to Et’atal and any demon or angel that comes between us.”

“We don’t take kindly to threats here,” the bartender said, his voice edged. “Now, leave before we force you to leave.”

I looked around at the demons and angels, all staring at me with fear and anger in their eyes. I pulled the dagger out of the bar and turned toward the door. “I don’t know what Et’atal could have done to make you so scared of him, but he betrayed me once and nearly killed me a half dozen times, and I still chase after him. If any of you are not too pussy to tell me where he is and how to find him, I’ll be waiting outside the forcefield for you.” I stomped toward the door and flung it open. “My mom told stories of demons and angels when I was a kid, of their great battles, and how they feared nothing. She would be ashamed of what you’ve become, shells of your former glory.”

I slammed the door behind me on my way out.

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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.