That made no sense. While a demon could be bribed or magically constrained to assist, either through a spell or through the threat of banishment, a demon would require neither protection nor a guard. At most, the Army needed someone to hold an object sacred to his associated god so he could be banished back across the barrier if he misbehaved.
“Can you explain?”
“Your primary purpose is to protect him. He is exceptionally powerful and any number of organizations or governments would love to gain control of him.” Her lips tightened into a harsh line, and Kilian had the feeling she was thinking of one organization or government, or perhaps even one specific attempt they had made to gain control of their asset.
“Does that mean he's working for you?”
“Mostly.” She paused before adding, “Usually.”
“Meaning?”
She leaned back and studied Kilian. He had the impression that she was trying to decide if he was worth the information, and her judgment made his fingers twitch. He hated the feeling that others were studying him and found him wanting. After a long silence, she said, “The possession ritual was corrupted. The demon gained only partial possession, and he missed the summoning witch to land in the victim who currently works for us.” She grimaced. “The demon tolerates us while he plots to find a way to kill us all and bathe in our blood.”
“Oh.” Kilian could not think of a more appropriate response. He had no idea how a demon ritual even could go wrong. Either the dimensional lock was released or not. How could a demon come through the veil and then land in a person who had not invited demon possession? Kilian had grown up in a home that avoided all things supernatural, but he had, like most children denied the right to learn about the magical minority, snuck books out of the library, reading stories by flashlight under their covers. Even those who clung to their mundane souls like a stereotypical housewife clutching her pearls knew something of the power that flowed around them. It was hard to avoid when at least half the movies each year featured beautiful supernaturals with uncanny power, even if they were rare in real life. And this matched nothing Kilian had ever heard of.
“Are you suggesting I would have to guard the host against the demon that shares the host's body?” How was that even possible?
She grimaced. “I am suggesting that this is an operation that requires some delicacy. I hoped you would be able to provide that.”
“Ma'am, my last mission did not end particularly well. Delicate is not the first word most people would use to describe me.” It wasn’t the second or third word either. As much as Kilian wanted away from this unit, he didn’t want to jump into one that was an even poorer fit.
She nodded. “I do understand you had a somewhat difficult time recently.”
Somewhat difficult.Kilian wanted to laugh at her choice of adjectives. That was like saying that the witch he had pumped full of hundreds of bullets was somewhat dead. Both required an interesting use of the word somewhat.
“That mission is one reason why I'm interested in recruiting you. Your anti-magic spells are quite impressive. More people would've died had the witch repeated her stunt of teleporting zombie versions of your team back into the base. I'm sure that people around here have thanked you for avoiding that outcome.” She gave him a sharp look that made it very clear she understood how much he had not been thanked. If she hoped to make him feel unwelcome, she was wasting her efforts. Kilian already knew that the other soldiers wanted him gone. At this point, Kilian felt lucky to have avoided any major curses. Coming back without his team for the second time in his career had solidified the suspicions others already held.
“I'm not interested in being thanked.” And he wasn’t going to be manipulated by someone who thought a few sweet words would make him malleable.
She pursed her lips. “The question is, what do you want? Judas vamps are not generally known for public service, and yet here you are. It's an interesting choice of careers.”
“I was in the Army before I became a Judas vamp.”
She nodded. “You were a decorated Ranger. Your record would have earned you a place in another supernatural tradition. The Army employs a number of were-creatures, both from blessed and cursed lines.”
Kilian had considered the possibility, but were-curses were most likely to take with someone who had a genetic tie to the cursed line. Without that, the odds of surviving a bite dropped dramatically. And blessings were rare and much more difficult to transmit. “My family are Christians going back eight hundred years. I don't think you'll find a worshiper of Artemis, Leto, Loki or Zeus anywhere in the family tree.” Instead, Kilian had an abundance of Christianity in his line, which was why he had chosen to inherit a curse passed down from the three thieves who had stumbled across Judas Iscariot’s hanged body and decided to steal the god-power still within him as one of Christ’s disciples.
“So a Christian family means you chose a Judas vamp? I was under the impression that Christians were more disapproving of Judas vamps than non-Christians.”
“They are,” Kilian agreed. His parents had completely cut him off when they learned what he had done. Judas’s curse bloomed in guilt, and Kilian had possessed the raw material to survive the turning. Despite his flaws, and he could number them as effectively as anyone, he still believed he could play a role in holding back the darkness. The old gods slept, but the power that leaked into the world through their lines threatened the vast majority of people who only wished to live quiet lives. Kilian had escaped small town America as soon as he could, but he wanted others to have the right to choose a life sheltered from the horrors he had endured. “Is my background in some way relevant to the mission?”
“Possibly. I think you'll find that Stephen can be rather manipulative, especially when the demon is most present. I was told that you are pragmatic and accepting of your nature, both the strengths and the weaknesses. That will make it easier for you to guard against the demon.”
“The demon already has a host, what could it want from me?” Kilian should run like hell from this mission. He might’ve been a vamp, but that wouldn’t give him any advantage over a demon. Besides, the witch who’d summoned it would control the monster, and Kilian had developed a significant antipathy for witches.
“The demon has a host, but not the host who summoned it. That is one reason why the demon is more dangerous than most. It is only partially bound to Stephen. In some ways that gives Stephen more power, but in many ways, the demon is far more powerful than a simple case of possession. It is not bound to the host body.” Kilian finally understood what she was saying. Those who hoped to host a demon would carve protective runes into their skin. But if this host was an innocent bystander to a demonic ritual, he would not have those protections.
“Are you suggesting that he is containing the demon through simple force of will?”
The woman nodded. “Stephen is a unique young man. So far he has not only contained the demon, but also directed it. It would be your job to give him any tools necessary to help him continue that fight.”
“Define ‘tools’.”
She leaned forward and pinned Kilian with a dark gaze. “Stephen needs a friend. He is slipping away from humanity, and the demon is winning. Last month the demon slipped free and cursed his father during a visit. We managed to strip the curse before too much damage was done to the man, but Stephen is refusing to see him again, and that last link to humanity is fading.”
“Do you think I can be some witch’s connection to humanity when I'm not human?” Kilian was a soldier — a warrior. He was incompetence embodied as a friend. More to the point, he had no idea how to guard or befriend a demon. In vampire terms, he was little more than an infant, and his lack of control had proved that too many times.
The woman opened the file in front of her and pulled out an eight-by-ten picture, sliding it across the desk. Kilian glanced down, expecting the black eyes of a demon-infested soul, but instead he saw dark hair and faint freckles, intense eyes and pale skin, a crooked smile and a small scar under his right eye where, as a child, he had run into the coffee table while chasing the new puppy. Stephen. Little Stevie Nguyen. Damn.
