Rodrigo needed to take some time to learn how to drive, because the mile-long walk back to the warehouse had been downright depressing. The streets were ripe with newly made alcoholics and drug addicts, who he could hardly blame. With all the devastation from the two-day demon invasion and not nearly enough construction workers to go around, renovations were being concentrated on New York’s wealthier neighborhoods. It was estimated that it would take years to restore the city to its former glory, and as a result, a lot of people were homeless. Sprawling tent cities had sprung up everywhere from parks to under bridges.
And yet, with tens of millions around the world either dead or missing, Rodrigo knew from his own losses that it had been all the murdered loved ones that had broken so many spirits. He brushed his fingers against the silver anchor pendant hanging around his neck, just to make sure it was still there.
At first, the average person had been reluctant to accept the absurdity of demons straight out of Hell. In the hours after the demons withdrew, wild rumors and theories had been flying around about how they were some country’s disastrous lab experiment, or a totally new form of warfare. But disproving Adena’s belief about former Vice President Blackthorn surviving because he was a demon-possessed mole, on the night of his inauguration he had hit the grieving, hysterical public with some cold, hard truths. No, these were not man-made creatures and no, they were not a foreign threat, they were extra-dimensional beings.
In reality, those theories from the early days weren’t far off the mark. Hell itself was actually a version of earth thousands of years into the future where Murphy’s law had run rampant, though that wasn’t common knowledge. And so, with a war unlike any other on the horizon, America, Russia, China, and every other country with two nukes to rub together, enacted the draft to replace the countless soldiers that were lost. Not long after that, with having to combat an immeasurably superior enemy, the global Demon Negation Force had been founded.
The entire walk to the warehouse, Geo seemed to be spoiling for another fight, as he twirled his retracted staff and glared at anyone who stepped too close. Off in the Dominican Republic with his father, Antonio, during the invasion, he hadn’t experienced the level of violence on the island that had occurred here and seemed blind to the city’s increased dangers. Rodrigo had hoped the kid would’ve pulled himself together by now, but he was always a bit of a troublemaker. Geo’s mom, Emelina, was apparently the only person capable of keeping him in check and it was becoming clear that his self-control died with her.
“So, the brat has a death wish?” a voice in Rodrigo’s head asked. “What human doesn’t at this point? Why not tell the twig and let him deal with it?”
“Resent, as much as I want to fill Jett in, I don’t think that would solve anything,” he responded as a conscious thought. It was amazing how communicating with his biological father, the Prince of Hell, had become mundane. “Honestly, telling him or their dad would probably make things worse.”
That Emelina’s funeral had finally come up in the queue and was scheduled for the day after tomorrow didn’t help matters. By the time Antonio and Geo had made it back to the states, millions had already beaten them to the funeral homes. Even with cremation at an all-time high, graveyards were overflowing and older plots were being dug up to be re-used.
Whether Rodrigo’s mother, Miriam, planned to attend her older sister’s funeral, or was even still alive, he had no idea. But he had actually been brushing up on his Spanish, because he heard the grandparents he had never met were driving over from Miami for it. Air travel was considered high-risk since the invasion. During it, hundreds of planes had dropped out of the sky because of attacks from imps, their offspring with diavoliks, the malformed, and the many other winged demonic races.
Outside what looked like little more than a run-down warehouse, Rodrigo glanced around to make sure no one suspicious was lurking nearby, then stuck his key card into a slot to the left of the large doors. It was inconspicuous unless you knew where to look. After his card was verified, a fingerprint scanner opened up in the wall. He slipped off his black leather glove and placed his left index finger on it, causing the screen to turn from blue to green.
“How come I don’t get a card?” Geo asked as the steel double doors parted.
“Because you don’t live here,” Rodrigo said.
As they entered the vast space with exposed brick walls and high ceilings, the doors shut automatically behind them. The living room, dining room, and kitchen all led into one another seamlessly, but the gym doubled as the armory, and so needed to be unlocked by key card. Two staircases with steel and glass railings led up to the private rooms.
Geo put his backpack and skateboard on the floor by the standing coat rack, keeping his blue fitted cap backward on his head. “Jett’s got a card.”
“He needs it for when we go hunting.”
With Resent’s ability to regenerate from most wounds within minutes, Rodrigo had gone out every single night to hunt the demons who refused to obey the high lords’ order to withdraw. Whether he genuinely cared about the safety of strangers, or merely needed an outlet for those surges of rage he felt when he turned to share something with his brother and found only empty air, Rodrigo wasn’t sure himself. Though it had taken Jett time to warm to the idea, barring injury, he joined him frequently.
To their credit, the D.N.F had blockaded and posted sentry guns around many of the gateways between Earth and Hell. Though the portals were seldom in plain sight, and the symbols etched into the ground or walls were invisible to the human eye, the locations of those that saw the most use were obvious to anyone who paid attention to the demons’ retreat. Still, there were times when these measures, and even the drone strikes that followed if they failed, weren’t enough to stop the entry of squads or a particularly powerful demon. Worse still, the uncounted demons who had never returned to Hell, and had gone into hiding to bide their time.
“So, when can I start hunting those bastards with you guys?” Geo asked.
Geo might be impulsive, but he wasn’t stupid. He must have known that a boy with a stick would be nothing but a burden against a demon. But Rodrigo was all too familiar with the impotent fury the demons instilled in people, so he tried to soften the blow. “You already know the answer to that. I don’t even let Raquel go, and she’s like a mini-Lara Croft these days.”
“Fine, be like that. I’m gonna go train.” Geo went off to the gym.
Rodrigo planned to join him, but he needed to recharge first. He went up the right staircase to the open hallway on the second floor, which overlooked the first. He paused outside the door next to his own. His sister’s room was often shared with his childhood friend, Leila, who had been staying at the warehouse less often since reuniting with her adoptive parents. A fact that both relieved and disappointed him. But he had no business worrying about dating in his condition. Not so long as his father was inside his head, watching, or worse, feeling what such things might lead to.
Rodrigo kept walking and used his key card to unlock his door. His floor was littered with equipment looted from the demons he and Resent had killed, weapons and armor he could make a pretty penny selling on the black market, if he cared to risk arrest. He climbed the ladder to his bed’s top bunk and stretched out on it. The nebulae that he used to form his right arm dissipated, causing his sleeve and glove to deflate. Rodrigo had come a long way from when he first started doing it shortly after Misery cut his arm off at the shoulder. But the drain of maintaining the nebulous appendage caught up with him hourly.
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As Rodrigo took deep breaths, Resent said, “Your recovery times are lengthening. You should sleep.”
“You just want uninterrupted control.”
“Obviously. When we came to our agreement, I didn’t anticipate your gains in vitality.” In the past five months, the Prince of Hell had made huge improvements on his ability to possess Rodrigo’s body. For one, he no longer needed to obey the human body’s need for sleep. With that in mind, it was only fair that when Rodrigo slept, Resent took control. Problem was, during that time, Rodrigo had been making gains of his own.
Sure, he had gone from his only source of regular exercise being PE class to working out and fighting for his life every day, but his progress was inhuman. Being able to stay awake for 48 hours straight, without choking down any of the bitter coffee Adena swore by, was just one of his recent enhancements. According to Resent, as a half-demon or to be precise, a cambion, Rodrigo could have gone his whole life being practically identical to a human. However, once Resent taught him how to use the nebulae, his evolution began.
Rodrigo brought the nebulae back out, reforming his arm, starting at the shoulder. Learning to make it in proportion with his left had been a challenge. Now it was second nature.
After Rodrigo was back on his feet, he went down to the gym. Geo was practicing his staff drills on a dummy near the treadmill Adena was running on. Ever since she denied his request to mentor him, flat out saying she didn’t believe he had much potential, he had been training relentlessly. Rodrigo wondered whether that was her strategy all along or a happy coincidence.
Rodrigo decided to start off his workout with some calisthenics. It could be inconvenient at times being restricted to using just his left arm, but the nebulae-generated appendage was far stronger than the rest of him and made everything a breeze. Adjusting the nebulae to match his strength-level seemed impossible, which was why he’d never use it to strike a human-being. Thanks to Resent’s boundless appetite and rapid regeneration repairing the body’s muscles, Rodrigo had managed to bulk up significantly from the scrawny boy he once was. Unlike Jett and Adena, he was more stocky than lean.
After a while, Adena took a break from running and came over to him in a black tank top and sweats. With snow-white hair that reached her shoulders and those pale blue eyes, she had a striking beauty to her, as if she had emerged from a painting. Even now that he outweighed her, and they were almost the same height, Rodrigo still felt like a child in her presence.
“Up for a spar?” Adena asked.
“I’m down. Sword fight, Flairs, or mano-a-mano?”
“Let’s go with swords, but don’t cheat this time. Keep it to a human level.” Despite Geo being too absorbed in his training to eavesdrop as he smashed his staff into the free-standing torso’s head, Adena kept her tone low.
Having come after Rodrigo in Hell when he had been captured by Misery, she and Raquel were the only ones that knew he was a cambion. But unlike Raquel and all the demons, who believed he was Resent’s half-brother, she alone knew he was Resent’s son. Needing to unburden himself, Rodrigo had outright told her during one late-night training session. She was the sole person he trusted wouldn’t tell anyone else. In a strange twist of fate, this girl who burned his house down and choked him unconscious upon their first meeting, had become his closest friend.
Rodrigo grabbed a scimitar off the wall, and Adena chose her favorite, the spatha. It was a straight sword mainly used by the Romans, that matched his scimitar in length. When he first drew a blade against her months back, his experience as a childhood fencing champion years behind him, he wasn’t even capable of coming close to cutting her. But between her instruction and Resent advising him in his head, he was now on a par with her. In fact, if he used his newfound strength and speed, he could overwhelm her. Though since the sword was only one of several weapons Adena was skilled with, it felt like less of an accomplishment than it should have been.
They went back and forth for some time. In the early days, knowing he would regenerate, Adena had opened gashes along his body when given the opportunity. Now, like him, she stopped short right before making contact. Whether out of affection or because she was tired of buying him new clothes was anyone’s guess.
Rodrigo sheathed his scimitar as his heightened senses heard the front doors swish open, then Raquel’s hurried footsteps up the stairs and to her room, no doubt to video chat with Jamie. If there was one thing that Rodrigo agreed with Miriam on, it was her dislike of the fourteen-year-old boy. As an eighth grader, Jamie just standing by while Geo, a seventh grader, got jumped by three grown men, was the perfect example of why Rodrigo wasn’t fond of him. Still, no good would come from getting all paternal and trying to force Raquel to stop dating him.
The metal door of the gym slid open and Jett came in. Though the four claw marks left on his right cheek by one of the hounds that butchered his mother had healed in jagged scars, he was one of the lucky ones. He greeted Rodrigo and Adena with a nod before storming over to Geo. “You could’ve saved me the gas and shot me a text saying you weren’t at school.”
Geo ceased beating on the dummy and took a seat on a bench. Dripping with sweat, he took a swig of water. “My bad, brah.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”
“What else you want?”
“I dunno, maybe an explanation? You’re going to school, like, what? Two or three days a week now? Do you wanna get left back? Because that’s how you do it.”
Geo sucked his teeth. “Who cares? The school doesn’t bother to call Dad anymore. Even they know it don’t matter. Not like they’re teaching us anything that would help against the demons.”
It was in moments like this that Rodrigo realized he and Geo were more similar than he cared to admit. The lack of mandatory demonology courses at this point was exactly why Rodrigo couldn’t be bothered to worry about earning his high school diploma. It wasn’t like he ever had a career path mapped out. What was he supposed to do? Finish school so he could end up working the nine-to-five grind while demons roamed the streets? That felt like clinging to what the world used to be, instead of what it was now. Truthfully, the risk of Resent taking over and going on a killing spree during one dull class too many was an afterthought.
Jett rolled his eyes. “Bring your attendance up or I’ll tell Pa myself.”
As Jett turned his back, Geo pointed at him with his middle fingers and made popping sounds with his mouth. Adena’s almost smile made the older brother spin around, at which point the younger was whistling innocently.
“Maybe you should get your dad to sign him up for home-schooling,” Rodrigo said as Jett came over to him. Adena had offered to enroll him in the online education program she had used all her life, graduating from high school at fourteen. Since you paid the same rate either way, it allowed you to go as quickly as you were able. While unorthodox before, home-schooling had almost become the norm in these dangerous times when population centers made for ideal targets. “He could do it on one of the computers here so we can keep an eye on him.”
“Might have to go that route. Anyway, you look exhausted, Ruy. Are you gonna be able to come patrolling tonight?”
Rodrigo was surprised. “You still want to go, even with your school’s party tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Jett said. “If I get hurt and miss it, it’s whatever. I won’t let people die because I wanna have a good time.”
“This is a far cry from when he first activated his Flair,” Resent said. It was, and though he honestly wasn’t sure how Jett juggled school and boxing as well, Rodrigo was grateful for his cousin’s commitment.
Adena sighed. “You two still want to waste time on that?”
“Which one exactly?” Jett asked. It was clear she meant the party, but her disinterest in protecting people from the demons was a sore point with him. Working as one of Misery’s Blights had severely diminished Adena’s sense of empathy. During those eight years, she was responsible for ending hundreds of lives, primarily those of demons who deserted Hell or humans with hard evidence of their existence. Early on, Rodrigo had questioned his own tolerance of living under the same roof as an assassin. But not only would they all be dead if not for her, the invasion probably never would have ended. Plus, her motivation being avenging her family had always struck a chord with him.
Adena ignored Jett’s thinly veiled hostility. “I just don’t see how an introvert and a recluse are supposed to enjoy themselves at something like this.”
“Is it bad that I had to think for a second about which one I was?” Rodrigo asked.
“Yeah, Ruy, it is,” Jett said. “And you guys can’t back out now. Leila’s coming, too, and it’ll be weird if it’s just us. I’m not saying be normal, but you need to get outta this warehouse and socialize a bit.”
“All right, fair enough. If there’s any day for me to try to de-stress, it’s tomorrow. Listen, I’m gonna rest and tag Resent in. If I don’t wake up in time for the hun...patrol, make sure he goes with you.”
“Do not charge me with babysitting,” Resent said.
“What? Are you already tired of tracking down the demons that disobeyed you?” The prince had been the one to convince the high lords to recall their forces, so any demon defying them was defying him.
Resent offered no answer as he took over, forcing Rodrigo’s mind into the passenger seat. Initially, it was difficult to sleep without being in a bed, but like with all the other bizarre things that had infiltrated his life, he adapted. Blocking out the excess noise as his vision began to fade, Rodrigo could only hope that he wouldn’t kick-start his seventeenth birthday by waking up to chaos.