Page 48 of Virgil's Demons

"You can't!" He shouted. "You, as well as I know, that neither of us is strong enough to exorcize death."

I swallowed hard, the cold dread pooling in my stomach. "Exorcize Death? How the hell do we do that?"

Virgil stared at me, his eyes hard, determined. "I don't know. But I'm going to figure this out alone."

"You know I can help you. Let me stay," I begged him.

"I'm already dead, kid, and halfway to hell. You don't have to follow me."

I shook my head. "You don't understand. I've already been there."

The storm raged outside, and as he looked at me, a flicker of realization surged in his eyes. He had no choice. I was his way in, and we were both walking a thin line between life and death. The only way out was through the darkness.

VIRGIL

Ileft Barythaya back in my room while Saddle did me the favor of taking care of Hellsing. The kid looked like he'd been through hell and back, literally. He needed to get warm and some food in him. I needed him at full strength for what was coming.

Spectre and a very pregnant Raven worked through the clubhouse doors a few hours later. Both were determined to help.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bulldog asked, slamming the door to his office. "You were supposed to help me, now you're dragging demons and death into my fucking walls!"

"You're right, Prez. This is all my fault," I said "I thought I could keep this contained, but it isn't happening."

"Listen, I'm not a skeptic. I've seen the devil and know how evil he is. We've seen firsthand what he's done to our brothers. Taken their souls, used them…but this is not the devil." His voice low, angry.

"In a way, it is. It's one who serves him," I whispered.

Spectre grunted. "I guess it didn't get the memo that one of ours was the one who chained his boss back to the depths of hell."

"Those chains won't hold him forever, Spectre. You should know that," I said.

"I know how to fight back now, but Bulldog's right, what is this?"

"It's complicated."

Bulldog leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, folding his hands and pressing them to his mouth as if seeking patience. "Look here, exorcist. I get that you're a nomad, I've got plenty of those riding for us. But I brought you in here to help us figure this shit out. I gave you a roof, food, and a purpose."

"A purpose I never asked for," I told him.

His eyes narrowed on me. "Fine. But I also offered you loyalty and trust, as well as truth and a fucking family. So whether you like it or not, we're in on this together."

I let out a deep sigh. I was being a fucking idiot, my walls up as always. I wasn't used to family or loyalty. I didn't have that in my life. It was just me looking out for me. Having to take care of all of them was just to much responsibility.

"I can't save you all," I muttered, looking down at my shaking hands.

Bulldog shrugged. "Half of us already have a foot in hell anyway, we're just trying not to get dragged down earlier than we should."

I nodded. "I've already lost too many souls, Bulldog. Seen them torn up, burned alive, necks snapped by this thing. There is a entity that is waging some type of war with me. It wants to hurt me by taking what I love away from me."

"Barythaya," he said.

I nodded. "Death said it could help and I rejected it, but then it spoke to her. It got her to accept at her weakest moment when the demon was trying to take over."

"Well, fuck," Bulldog grunted.

"Exactly," I sighed.

"Death itself?" Bulldog asked. "As in a goddamn reaper?"

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