Heaven Can wait: A Quincy Harker, Demon Hunter Novella

  Heaven Can Wait

  A Quincy Harker, Demon Hunter Novella

  John G. Hartness

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  More Quincy Harker - Free!

  Falstaff Books

  About the Author

  Also by John G. Hartness

  1

  “Get out, I have to go find a parking spot.” Adam’s gravelly voice shook me from my doze as he pulled into the packed parking lot in Little Five Points. I looked out the window, erasing the fog from my brain as I processed that we had made it to Atlanta intact.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going to find a place to put this thing in Little Five in the middle of the afternoon?” I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The parking lot had a few spaces, but they looked tight for normal cars, much less Adam’s Hummer.

  “I know a guy. I’ll meet you inside in ten minutes. They’ve got a big table. I told Jack to save us seats.” I never heard him make a call. I must have been out cold. But that made sense. We’d been driving all night, leaving Lockton, Ohio, a little before midnight. With stops for gas and bathrooms, and one longer break at a truck stop where I showered off the worst of the blood and smoke covering me from my fight with a band of demons masquerading as high school football coaches, it took the better part of twelve hours to get to the middle of Atlanta.

  I made it almost to Knoxville before I crashed hard, the last remaining bits of energy, excitement, and abject horror from the night’s festivities running out of me about an hour after sunup. I finally gave in to my exhaustion, leaned the seat back, and slept for a few hours. I wasn’t too worried about Adam falling asleep at the wheel, since I’d never known him to sleep. I’d never asked, it seemed rude somehow, but I honestly didn’t know if the big man could sleep. There were a lot of things I didn’t really know about Adam, despite having known him for as long as I could remember.

  Adam had been a fixture in my life since my childhood, attending a few family functions now and then with Luke. My uncle often referred to Adam as my “cousin,” but it didn’t take me too long to realize that he was no more my cousin than Luke was my “uncle.”

  But when your parents are Jonathan Harker and Mina Murray, you don’t question the vagaries of your family tree. You just say hi to whatever strange “uncle” or “cousin” might be visiting and get on about your business.

  So, I commenced to getting on about my business. I restored the passenger seat to its upright and locked position, opened the door, and slid down from the giant vehicle onto the damp asphalt. It was a cool, drizzly afternoon, and Atlanta’s artsy district seemed to be just waking up. The bookstore and drug store both looked almost deserted from where I stood, but if there’s going to be one place in Little Five Points that will always be hopping, it’s The Vortex.

  The Vortex is a local landmark, the kind of place that a city’s residents talk about with pride no matter if they’ve ever darkened the doors or not. Starting out in the 90s, the bar and burger joint boasts good food, cold beer, funky-ass wait staff, and serious attitude. In other words, it was my kind of joint. I walked through the giant skull façade over the front door and stepped into the dimly-lit joint. Music blared, rock and roll posters covered every surface, and the smells coming from the kitchen reminded me that Adam doesn’t eat, and doesn’t let anybody else eat in his car, so the food options on our trip had been limited to whatever I could shovel into my face while he was refueling his battle wagon.

  A tiny hostess with more tattoos than I had teeth stood by the door. She wore a laughing skull t-shirt, a pair of cut-off jeans, and black Chuck Taylor high-tops. A silver ring winked at me from one eyebrow, and she looked me up and down, appraising the new arrival, before finally speaking.

  “You must be the guy they’re waiting on,” she said after a few seconds. “Where’s your friend?”

  “Parking the car,” I replied. “And what do you mean I must be the guy?”

  “Your friends are over there.” She jerked a thumb over one shoulder to a long table where Detective Rebecca Gail Flynn, Gabby Van Helsing, and a bunch of people I’d never met face-to-face sat around a laptop. “They told me to be on the lookout for a giant and a dude that looked like a mass murderer. You’re nowhere close to being a giant, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you left a pretty high body count in your wake.” She gave me a grin and reached under the hostess stand for a couple menus and some rolled silverware.

  “Follow me.” She turned and walked toward the table.

  I did, thinking she was way more accurate than she wanted to know. There was a trail of bodies behind me a mile long and twice as wide, and I felt pretty sure that trail was going to get nothing but longer before I was through with Atlanta.

  You gonna stare at that screen or you gonna get up and give me a hug? I asked across the mental link I shared with Flynn. I saw her straighten up in her chair, then stand up like a shot and turn around, her head whipping side to side, tossing brown curls around her face as she looked for me.

  I stood ten feet away, drinking in the sight of her. It had only been a few weeks since we were last together, but it felt like ten years. The bond we shared was more than just partners, or boyfriend/girlfriend, or whatever we were. When I shared my blood with her to save her life a year ago, she got inside my head. Literally. Distance weakened the connection, so when I was in Ohio and she was in North Carolina, it felt like a part of myself was missing. A part that just came rushing back all at once when our eyes met.

  She was gorgeous, there was no question about that. This woman, who I had looked out for since she was a little girl, had grown into a beauty. And that beautiful woman took three steps across the restaurant floor, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me like I haven’t been kissed in a very long time. I kissed her back with everything I had and wrapped my hands around her trim waist. I felt her suck in a breath, and I pulled back.

  Her dark brown eyes squinted in pain, and her mocha skin was suddenly a little pale.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, then I remembered. Her side. That fucking demon back in Charlotte stabbed her while I was inside dealing with Smith. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’m good, I’m good.” She smiled up at me. “No, seriously, I’m good. You just pulled me in when you kissed me and my side pressed up against… what the hell is that, anyway?” She pointed at my side with a little grin.

  I looked down at the offending hardware, a short gladius I had hanging from my belt. I’d picked it up from a stash of weapons in Adam’s car when a couple of bikers got a little more interested in the Hummer at a gas station than I was comfortable with, then forgot to take it off.

  “Sorry, I must have poked you with my giant rigid sword,” I said with a lopsided grin.

  “In your dreams, Romeo,” Flynn said, slapping me on the chest. “It’s good to see you again, Harker.”

  “Good to be seen, Detective.” We were both using that formal tone that lovers use when they’re teasing each other in front of people. It’s really cute to the lovers, but often less so to the spectators.

  “Oh for God’s sake, do you two need a moment? I’m sure it won’t be the first time the lavatories in this place
have been used for purposes God never intended, but you’re putting the rest of us off our lunch,” a skinny British guy at the end of the table protested.

  “Shut up, Jack, you’re just mad nobody’s ever greeted you with that much enthusiasm,” said the woman next to him. She was an athletic woman in a leather jacket with an easy grin and black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

  I walked over to the table and pulled out one of the empty chairs. I looked around the table and gave a little wave. “So… I’m Quincy Harker. I guess you all know that. Who is everybody? Everybody that I haven’t either fought beside or against, that is. I assume you’re Jack Watson?” I said to the British guy.

  “What gave it away? My dashing good looks, the obvious intellectual superiority to everyone in the room—”

  “The fact that you’re the only guy at the table he didn’t grow up with?” the mystery woman said. She leaned over the table and extended a hand. “Ignore Jack, we all do. I’m Jo Henry. I hit things.”

  “With a big damn hammer,” Gabriella Van Helsing added. My first meeting with Gabby wasn’t the most festive occasion I’d ever experienced, but we settled into a tentative truce by the time that case finished up. I hadn’t known Luke recruited her into the Shadow Council until I found out she was in Charlotte while I was on the run. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about her. Our last meeting had left me thinking she might be a little more insane than my normal partners.

  “Good to meet you, Jo. And Jack. And good to see you again, Gabriella,” I said. “I assume Luke is stashed somewhere lightproof?”

  “I am indeed safely ensconced in a room at the Westin downtown. While blacking out the windows was an unusual request, I doubt it was the strangest thing the hotel has been asked to do for a guest.” Luke’s voice came from the speakers on the laptop. Video conferencing and ubiquitous Wi-Fi made it a lot easier to keep a vampire in the loop in the modern era.

  Luke peered around me. “Where is Adam?”

  “Looking for parking,” I replied. “Kind of an Olympic sport in Atlanta.”

  “It wasn’t really a problem,” Adam’s rumbling voice came from behind me. I looked up, a little surprised that someone that damn big could move that quietly.

  “Good to see you, Adam,” Luke said with a nod. “I believe you know Mr. Watson, and this is Gabby Van Helsing.” Luke waved his hands around the screen, and Adam nodded to the new players in turn. Apparently, he knew the Brit, but I knew he spent a lot of time in Europe.

  Adam stretched out a hand to Gabriella. “I knew your grandfather,” he said. “He was a good man.”

  Gabby looked confused. “Is there anyone who didn’t know Grandpa Abe? Because I’m starting to think I’m the only one on this team with a normal human lifespan.”

  “I’m one hundred percent human, Gabs, no need to worry about that,” Jo said, standing up. She shook hands with Adam. “Joanna Henry. Call me Jo.”

  “I’ve heard of your great-grandfather, but we never met. He was reputed to be a man of great character. As was yours, Mr. Watson,” he said to Jack.

  “Thank you, Mr.… I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your last name?” Watson said.

  Adam looked at me, and I shrugged. If the folks around the table hadn’t figured it out yet, it wasn’t on me to tell tales. He turned his gaze to Luke, who, likewise, gave him no help. “Franks is the name I have used most often in this country recently. That will suffice, I believe.”

  Watson knit his brow, and I could see Flynn’s shoulders shaking as she stifled laughter. She knew exactly what was going on, of course, thanks to our restored mental connection. Jo leaned over and whispered something into Watson’s ear, and his head whipped around and up to look back at Adam.

  “You’re…you’re really…really?”

  “He says while he sits eating wings and Skyping with friggin’ Dracula,” I said, waving a waitress over. “Adam, grab a seat. I’m gonna get some lunch and maybe a few beers and we can get this party started. Can I get a Laughing Skull and a dozen wings, crispy, with the hottest sauce you’ve got on the side?” The waitress walked off, and I turned to the table.

  “Okay, what’s the deal?” I asked. I guess it was mostly directed at Luke, but it was Becks everyone looked to for the answer.

  “Alright, I’ll start. Orobas is here in Atlanta. Some bajillionaire named Reginald Barton flew him down here on a private jet. We don’t know what he’s up to, or how he’s tied to Barton, but Orobas with a bankroll can’t be good. What was going on in Kentucky?” She looked at me with a little grin. She knew damn well I hate Kentucky thanks to some bourbon-induced bad decisions in the 90s.

  “Ohio, but close,” I replied. “There were demons, and the one in charge knew about Orobas, but from what he said, it sounded like Oro wasn’t the lead dog in the team. So, we need to figure out who’s pulling the strings and what their endgame is.”

  “According to Sparkles, Barton is a collector of antiquities, with a specific taste for artifacts thought to have some mystical properties,” Jo said, looking up from her phone.

  “Sparkles texts now?” I asked.

  “I think he does whatever he wants with anything connected to the internet,” she replied with a nod.

  “Yeah, probably so,” I agreed.

  “Who is this mysterious Sparkles, and am I ever going to meet him?” Flynn asked.

  “Almost certainly not,” Luke said, then smoothly changed the subject. “Well, it seems that Barton’s taste for magical items explains his interest in this.” He picked up a sword and held it up in view of the camera.

  “Since when did you get all Ren Faire on us, Luke?” I asked.

  “As it appears this sword was what Orobas wanted from the wreckage of my home. I felt that leaving it in the car would be ill-advised,” Luke replied.

  “I thought Smith was trying to open a portal to Hell to bring all his buddies across and invade the world?” I asked. “I mean, I’m just the dude that shot him in the face, but that’s sure what it looked like he was doing from where I was standing.”

  “That may well have been Agent Smith’s goal, but once you thwarted that attempt, it seems that Orobas turned his attention to acquiring this weapon.”

  “Why?” I asked. “I mean, swords are great if you need to cut off an arm or make a hole in somebody, but I haven’t found one that can open a doorway to Hell.”

  “That doesn’t mean there’s not one out there, just that we have yet to encounter it,” Adam chimed in.

  “Aren’t you just a ray of fucking sunshine?” I grumbled.

  “I am typically considered somewhat dry and sardonic, so no, I would assume that I am not, in fact, a ray of sunshine,” Adam replied. I looked over at him, but his face betrayed nothing. I’d worked with Adam for decades, and I could never tell if he was fucking with me or not. Either he had the greatest sense of humor in the world, or absolutely none.

  I gave my head a shake and went on. “Okay, so we have the sword, and we know who’s partnered up with Orobas down here. How do we plan to fuck up his plans and save the world?” I asked.

  “This week,” Flynn added.

  I looked at her, questioning.

  “You left out a bit. It’s supposed to be ‘how do we save the world this week?’”

  Luke’s face blurred on the laptop, and suddenly we had a split image, with Luke on half the screen and a unicorn head on the other. The unicorn’s mouth started to move as we all stared at the computer.

  “Well, you might want to start by killing the demons that are currently climbing the Ferris Wheel outside Centennial Park,” the unicorn said.

  “Goddammit, Sparkles,” I said. “Why can’t you just say hello like a normal person?”

  2

  I threw an American Express Black Card at the waitress and told her I’d be back for it later. Then we hauled ass out of the restaurant. Flynn and I sprinted down the sidewalk after Adam toward a small hidden parking lot where he’d stashed the Hummer while the
others jumped into what looked an awful lot like Flynn’s unmarked police car.

  “Did you just give two people you barely know and a psychotic the keys to your cop car?” I asked after I got into the passenger seat and clicked my seat belt on.

  “Yeah, kinda,” Flynn replied. “I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s going to be my cop car when I get back to Charlotte, so I only kinda give a shit. Besides, Jo’s an excellent driver.”

  “Gabby is driving,” Adam said, looking in the rearview mirror.

  “Goddammit,” Becks replied. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I pulled out my phone and fired up a Skype link to Sparkles. “What do we know, pal?” I asked.

  Sparkles popped up on my phone screen and the computer screen built into the dash. “Hang on, let me loop the other car in.” The unicorn head vanished, then reappeared with a smaller inset image of Gabby, Watson, and Jo.

  “Someday I’m going to learn how you do that shit,” Jo said.

  “I don’t think you will, Jo, but you’re welcome to try,” said the unicorn.

  “Give us the skinny, horn-boy,” I said.

  “What do you want to know, Harker? There are demons climbing the outside of the Ferris Wheel and eating people. Here, watch the video.”

  The image on the screen switched from a unicorn head to a live security cam feed. Sure enough, there were demons on the Ferris Wheel. I was pretty sure that shit wasn’t included in the price of admission. A pair of the nasty bastards, mid-level Torment Demons from the looks of them, had the wheel stopped and were calmly climbing the center chords, then walking out onto the supports, ripping the door off its hinges, and swinging in. Once inside, the demons vanished from the camera shot, but after a few seconds, a head flew out the door.

  “Oh, that’s nasty,” I said.

  “They’re discarding the bits they can’t eat,” Adam said. “No meat or muscle on a skull, except the jaw. Nothing worth consuming, unless you’re a big fan of tongue.”