Page 4 of Missing Moon

Finally, the cult leader looks worried.

At this, the demons are done waiting. They swarm inward, pretty much all heading right for Shannon. I can’t help but feel that their reaction to Anthony’s presence is ‘Crap, an angel. We’re screwed. Let’s get the kid before we get sent back home.’

Home being Hell, of course.

That whole virginity thing in the sense of someone who’s never been intimate has nothing to do with magic at all. However, demons love nothing more than destroying innocence.It’s like waving steak at a starving dog. If they can somehow get her soul, they’ll drag it back into the abyss with them.

The absolute worst part about fighting demons is, they know they can’t die permanently in the mortal world… so they are absolutely fearless. Without a special artifact like the Devil Killer sword, I’d have to go to their home dimension and kill them there for the death to be permanent. These little demons aren’t worth the effort. They’ve got no standing grudge against anyone here, it’s merely convenience. It’s really unlikely any of them will try to come back after her once we flush them back down the drain.

Since Anthony is on the other side of the altar, I concentrate on my side, playing demonic goalie. The fiends launch themselves at me with superhuman speed. Thankfully, I got this. Swinging my blade in wide, sweeping arcs is about the only thing I can do to fend off three to five of them attacking at the same time. This isn’t a movie where the ‘bad guys’ line up all nice like and go after the action hero one at a time. I feel more like I’m going after overgrown grass with a scythe than participating in any sort of beautifully choreographed movie-quality sword fight.

Claws, spindly broom-handle arms, and a whole lot of demon blood and spittle come flying at me. My ice sword rips through their toughened skin, which crunches and crackles like overcooked fried chicken. I wish they smelled as good as chicken. Alas, cutting them open releases a smell about as far opposite from ‘good’ as is possible for the human mind to imagine.

Shannon goes from screaming in fear to gagging on the stench.

In a matter of maybe ten or fifteen seconds that feels more like a minute, the flailing wall of demons is gone. Smoking puddles of miasmic goo lay on the ground by my feet, bubbling and steaming. One demon remaining on my side has decided todash off into the woods, after having run the cult leader over in its panic to get away from me. It’s not afraid of dying. The damn thing merely knows it’s doomed and is hoping to run off so it can cause as much chaos/damage as possible in this world before it gets sent home.

Apparently, the cultists aren’t the only dumb things out here in the forest tonight. The demons must have failed to realize the three of us aren’t ordinary mortals. While I can’t claim to be an expert on this sort of thing, I do know it’s really difficult to hurt demons with ordinary weapons. They laugh off bullets, for example.

I mean… here I am holding aglowingice sword. You’d think that would’ve given them a clue. Guess the lure of a young person drove them beyond reason into a feeding frenzy or something. No idea whether they wanted to possess her, drink her soul, or physically devour her. Doesn’t matter what they had in mind; it’s not happening.

Speaking of not happening, there’s no way I’m going to let a stray demon loose in the hills of California. We have enough big tech executives already.

After a quick glance over my shoulder to confirm Ant got the rest of the demons, I sprint off after the fleeing critter. It doesn’t take me long to run the thing down and slice it in half. Both pieces of demon liquefy on contact with the ground, melting into a horrible smelling puddle of olive drab-colored goop.

Ugh.

Going to be smelling this in my nightmares for a while. I’ll deal with it, though. Small price to pay for Shannon to be safe.

By the time I get back to the ritual site, Anthony’s got the cult leader off his feet by a fistful of his shirt. This guy’s gotta be in his late forties at least, yet the dynamic between them is bizarrely opposite. Anthony is giving off the sense of authority despite him being soyoung still.

Tammy’s moved over to sit on the altar slab beside Shannon, with an arm around her.

The kid’s not looking around much, keeping her gaze down while clinging to my daughter. I’m really hoping she didn’t see too much. Poor girl’s going to be in therapy for years if she watched us slaughtering demons. If need be, I’ll remove the memory.

“We’re going to need a believable story.” Tammy eyes the cult leader. “Or the cops are just going to let him go.”

I shift my jaw side to side, thinking.

“Wearebringing him to the cops, right?” asks Tammy after I don’t say anything. “Right?”

Anthony glances off to the side at the ground. “This man wanted to be with demons so badly that he was willing to kidnap and kill someone…”

Tammy blinks.

I know my son isn’t suggesting we kill this guy, though he’s trying to sound like that’s what he means. Somehow, a yawning chasm abruptly splits the ground open; dark crimson light shines up from partsfarbelow.

“Let’s give him his wish…” Anthony tosses the cultist into the hole, which promptly slams closed right after the man falls out of view.

Shannon gawks at us, then stares at the now-normal looking ground. Oddly enough, that she just witnessed my son throwing her abductor into the abyss seems to be helping her mental state. If nothing else, she at least appears slightly less terrified now.

“It’s over,” says Tammy in a comforting tone. “You’re safe now. They can’t hurt you.”

“I’m not six.” Shannon fidgets while looking around at the various blobs of melting demons. “You don’t have to baby-talk me.”

“Fair enough.” Tammy chuckles.

Anthony puts his wings and sword away, then looks at me with an expression halfway between being pleased with himself and hoping I agree with what he did. And yes, my son had done that. Seemingly all by himself.

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