I shouldn't have been surprised at being sneaked up on, I suppose. I can hear heartbeats, smell blood in people's veins and feel the emotions of those around me, but none of that matters against the stealth available to an ARC Agent.
She was of average heigh, average weight, in the archetypal black suit and tie. No sunglasses, but her features were so common she would hardly need to hide them. Brown eyes, black hair bound in a ponytail.
But I knew what she was. And, more importantly, what she was not.
It seemed ARC had decided to stick their head into my unlife, after all. But this agent was not from Camelot, come to discuss my relationship with humanity-both the species and the shriveled, shriveling remains inside me.
No. She was from the Goetia division.
Goetia dealt with demons, oni and the like: binding them, banishing them, and, sometimes, destroying them. Their headquarters was in Israel, built around the temple where Solomon had bound his seventy-two demons. But this agent was not a hellhunter, as they were coloquially known. She was a hellbound, someone who bound demons to themselves in order to channel their powers, or because the fiends could only be imprisoned inside a person.
More specifically, she was the Fourfold. She had three mighty hellspawn inside her, and kept them from fighting for dominion through sheer force of will. Her legend more than made up for her bland appearance.
But...why was she here? Pops' words implied he had called or arranged for her to be here, but why? He'd said it was to help me, but it wasn't like I needed to be exorcised.
Or perhaps there was a demon in my hometown, moving unseen and planning ruin for all.
If it was so, it made sense pops would call for the Fourfold. We'd all help if needed, of course, but she had both the expertise and the power needed to deal with any hellish incursion.
'You were right, old man,' the Fourfold said, walking towards pops while smiling. 'He does frown a lot when thinking.'
'He does it all the time, actually,' pops said lightly, smiling at me to show he didn't meant anything by it.
He walked forward, extending a hand for her to shake. Her hands could pulverize tungsten, but pops showed no fear or hesitation. He trusted her, for some reason.
'Ah,' the agent said, glancing between us. 'Must get it from you.' Then, she turned to me, her smile changing into a blank expression. 'You know who we are.'
'I know of you,' I said carefully. 'Though not the names or natures of those bound to you.'
'We would be concerned if you did,' she said. 'Half of us, that is. The other two are too smug and brutish to concern themselves with fear.'
'Can I ask why you are here?'
'Yes, you can,' she replied, then looked at me, saying nothing.
Can't believe I fell for that one... 'May I ask why you are here?'
A corner of her mouth twitched. 'Constantin isn't sure what your problem is, exactly. He asked a favour of us, because we have access to a vast range of knowledge and options.'
'My problem isn't demonic.' God, I hoped she wasn't one of those people who believed strigoi drew their powers from Satan or whoever else.
Actually, was she? With her experience, she was unlikely to, but...
'One of us can see the weak points of anyone or anything,' the agent said. 'And your greatest weakness is yourself.'
'Thank you, Sun Tzu,' I couldn't help myself from snarking. 'But if I could help myself, I would have done it by now.'
The Fourfold nodded again. 'Yes, you would have.'
I looked at my friends in exasperation. Most of them shrugged, while Luci shook his head. We were getting nowhere with the Fourfold and her cryptic bullshit. I needed solutions, before I started looking like John Carpenter's Thing.
God, I hoped it hadn't manifested again. Some fans are way too passionate.
'The agent,' pops said, jerking his head towards her. 'Is here as a...last resort. Something to keep away gawkers while we try to help you, and try to heal you herself, if we fail.'
And to help put me down if I went feral during the process. He didn't need to say it.
Mihai snapped his fingers-pure theatrics, really- and they all disappeared, leaving me alone with the Fourfold.
I looked at her dubiously. Esoteric powers, such as teleportation, slipped off strigoi like water off a duck's back. What about her? Was-
'One of us is untouchable by anything save brute force,' she said. And one of them was probably a telepath, too. Or I was just shit at hiding what I was thinking?
'Shall we?' she asked, gesturing at the horizon. A forest had been planted here after Urziceni's reconstruction, grown supernaturally fast and vast by the iele that had taken it as a home. I nodded, and ran to the woods, breaking the sound barrier and continuing to accelerate. Far from my fastest, but there was no need for that.
The Fourfold was already there when I stopped running, digging my boots into the earth in surprise. We were in a clearing in the middle of the woods, Mihai standing in the center of it. He had replaced his sporty clothes with the classic hooded solomonar robes, and he was grinning broadly at me, all but rubbing his hands in anticipation.
'We'll leave you to it,' he Fourfold said, then somehow disappeared from my sight. Either she could become imperceivable, even to a strigoi, or she could somehow move faster than I could sense while at the same time not disrupting the environment.
Probably both.
Mihai cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him.
'Where are the others?', I asked, to hide my unease at the agent's disappearance.
Mihai shrugged, still smiling. 'Oh, you know... here and there... and there. There's no need to distract yourself thinking about them, David. It's just the two of us now.'
'You're filling me with confidence,' I deadpanned. Then, just to heckle him. 'I'd knew you'd want to catch me in the woods one day, alone...'
'Oh, piss off. What, are you in middle school? We're alone because I need some space to use my spells.'
'What? What for?'
His grin widened. 'If I hurt you enough, your healing should kick into overdrive.'
YOU ARE READING
Strigoi Soul (Original Urban Fantasy)
ParanormalDavid Silva was used to failure. Supernatural fiction writers haven't exactly been successful since the forties, since the world's old dreams and nightmares were brought into being and new ones were spawned. Why would anyone want to read about the t...