The Man Who Sold The World

Lenna was glad to walk between Aly and Rome in front of her and Morrigan and Georgie behind her. All four had weapons and she did feel rather silly to be pretty much unarmed, if you don’t count holy water, salt and the symbol for fire on her wrist. Not that she told anyone about it.

"Gross," Rome said, "Who left their lunchbox down here?"

Lenna walked closer and looked at the box. She kneeled down which let Georgie squeal in disgust. Lenna ignored her. She opened the box and found a photograph of The Rev, graveyard dirt, a black cat bone and some other ritual bibs and bobs.

“That is incredible. I read about those, but I never believed they work but apparently they do.”

“Lenna, could you maybe form a real sentence and not just think about your discovery?” Georgie sounded disgusted by the whole situation.

“Oh sorry. To explain it in a simple way, I think it’s a summon box, to summon a crossroad demon to make a deal. And if I’m not wring this is our victim.”

"Congratulations, Miss Fee, you are in fact not wrong," he drawled, the Deep South breezing through his host's captive mouth. He slung the guitar he had been playing around behind him and stepped out into the light. Immediately four weapons were trained on him.

Lord, what adorable children these were.

"I think you'll find many of the answers you are looking for in the muck below you," he continued, as they found their voices.

"I think we'll find the answers we're looking for right here," the boy growled, advancing a half-step that was probably meant to look menacing. "You got until the count of zero to explain who the hell you are and what you're doing here before I--"

The Demon Formerly Known As Robert Johnson laughed, a deep, hearty, belly-laugh. "Before you what, sonny? Damage this moderately fine and fairly famous host? You of all people, Mr. Remington, ought to know what an unfortunate predicament that is." He smiled broadly, and raised his hands peaceably. "There is no need, of course, for violence at this stage, chill'un. So why don't we put those toys down before someone gets hurt?"

With a grin still fixed to his lips, he slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing the glowing red eyes that belied his profession.

Lenna stepped closer whoever it was she was standing next to, which turned out to be Aly.

He knows my name??? What the hell?

Lenna couldn’t stop herself but squeak when the eyes of the demon turned red.

Not good, this means crossroad demons are more powerful than most other demons.

“Guys you can’t shoot, demons are not corporal this is a human. A not bad looking human I have to admit.”

Lenna risked a quick look at Rome, just to make sure that... He was still himself and didn’t look like a demon?

As if that is possible to see.

“Who are you and why did you follow us around. If I wouldn’t know it better I would think you wanted us to follow you?”

Lenna sounded braver than she felt.

Maybe demons aren't that much fun anymore since I saw what they do to their hosts.

"Give the little lady a prize, folks, because that's the million-dollar question, ain't it?"

He grinned until the girl looked uncomfortable, which didn't take long.

"Where do you think all the music clues came from to lead you down here?" He raised his hand unassumingly. "That would be yours truly, mm'hm. You see I work a certain job, have done for the past, oh, forty-odd year. I sell fame and fortune, sometimes talent. I sell, whaddya call it, rock star, that's right. I sell 'rock star,'" he raised his fingers to form quotation marks, "and I deal in souls. Figure any man's got the right to his 27 years, just as I: enough time to make a livin' proper, but just shawt enough so that they always recall the songs you never had time to sing."

He chuckled, looked down, and then back up. "Now, are we going to put those guns up, or am I going to become uncivilized-like?"

Rome's mouth twitched in an angry grimace. He tried to read the eyes of the poor shmuck the demon was possessing, tried to find any spark of human life, but it just wasn't there, and it was terrifying.

Like, you know, the whole situation was, pretty much.

He wondered if the demon knew he was wearing that anti-possession charm.

He wondered if the charm even worked.

Rome waited another moment before he did the stupidest thing he had done since that librarian in high school: he raised his gun barrel-up and emptied the magazine into his hand. The gun went back into his shoulder-holster under his jacket, the magazine in his pocket.

"Stand down, ladies. He's using a civvie as a meatsuit," he ground out. He wouldn't let the guy get away, knowing better than anyone that it was about a million and two times better to be dead than it was to be possessed, but if they had half a chance to exorcise him properly and save him, well, it was worth it.

Lenna turned to Rome and starred shocked and unbelieving at him.

Yes I am on Rome’s side hurting the human wasn’t right and I’m the first one that shouts no guns. But that doesn’t mean you can be insane and not just lower your gun but take out the magazine. ARE YOU INSANE?

“What the hell do you want from us? Finding us will just kill you. I can exorcise you before you can make a move.”

Okay that was maybe not completely true but the demon didn’t know that.

Lenna shivered she was fumbling with the light in her pocket. This time she didn’t play of luck. She needed at least a spark to control fire and she had this spark.

“Why do you tell us what you do?”

Okay normal demons I get all they want is death and destructions, but I’m not sure what crossroad demons want except souls.

The Demon Formerly Known as Robert Johnson chuckled again.

"Everything we do in life is either to bring pleasure, or to avoid pain," he began. "Now, I can't expect you chill'un to understand...pain. Hellfire. Because that's, of course, where your soul goes if you're dumb enough to sell it on the cheap. Hell." He turned to Remington. "Now word is downstairs that Andre gave you a taste when he took you for a spin. But you understand, boy, that was just a taste."

The boy squirmed, gripped his unloaded gun, and fiddled with something around his neck.

"That ain't nothin'. Andre's a lowlife. That ain't real pain. Hell is. So, you understand, it changes people. Makes 'em...well, let's just say you'd do anything not to have to be there anymore. And," he added, with a psychotic shrug. "It brings me no small pleasure to see poor morons like those boys upstairs you're looking after, to see them fall, and fall hard, worse than me. But, it pays the bills, so to speak, and I got a boss like everybody..."

"Christ, enough with the monologuing, red-eyes, cut to the chase," the boy snapped nervously, bringing his other hand to the magazine he had in his pocket.

"My, my, I do declare someone has some manners to learn." With a flick of his wrist, he slammed the boy against the far wall. The brown-haired woman cried out and raised her gun, so he held her to the wall, too. "Now, now, boys and girls, no fighting."

He turned back to Miss Fee, and smiled hungrily at her. "You might want to tell your friends to watch themselves, when in fact I led you here to help you."

Elenna barked out a nervous laugh. "Ha! You? Help us? Help us what?"

For the first time, the demon did not smile. "Help you destroy me. I want out of this gig."

Lenna didn't have time to answer the demon, because at just that moment he staggered backward. The creature yelped in pain as water trickled down from his forehead, several more wet spots springing up across his body accompanied by the sound of sizzling skin and soft popping noises. A familiar, accented voice broke clearly through the white noise, "Enough lies, d'yavol. Leave zese children alone."

A few more wet spots sprung up, the demon reeling back with a scream. Despite the fact nobody could see him, Danila smirked satisfiedly.

It happened all so fast, Rome was pinned against the wall and the demon turned to her.

Nonononono not good.

But before Lenna could do anything, before she even could think a word of an exorcism the demon was gone. Rome pulled her behind himself, normally she would have complained but Lenna was glad that Rome tried to protect her. She didn’t felt like being the hero of any kind. This demon was no fun at all to hunt.
Lenna peeked around him into the darkness of the sewers, the flashlight did not really lighten the place. She sighed flick her lighter and mumbled.

“Feuer in meiner Hand spende Licht und brennt nicht!”

Five fireballs floated in midair around them and lighted the crossroad in the sewer.

“Danila? I never expected you down here.”



Spell translation:
Fire in my hand, give light and don’t burn!

"Yeah!" Rome cried, finally spying where Danila had crouched in the shadows, holding what looked to him very much like a paint-ball gun. "Pops! Where the hell did you come from? And where have you been?"

Then Rome frowned, realizing what had happened. "And hey! You totally interrupted a a delicate interrogation!"

Danila looked skeptical.

"Hey! I had the situation totally under control!" Rome insisted as he dejectedly returned his gun to its holster.

"I did not know," Danila said to Rome with a wry smile, "Zat your plan involved being pinned againzt a wall. My apologies for interrupting."

He paused for a moment, then continued. "As to your questions, my business is my own; and ze fact the FBI has not vound you yet is a miracle. . ."

The suddenly appearing of their old friend made Lenna nervous. First they meet a demon that asks to get killed, and then a long lost friend shows up.

Coincidence?

“We are not that easy to catch.”

Lenna took a deep breath and walked around Rome closer to Danila, it might look like she wanted to greet him but then...

SPLASH

She emptied the bottle of Holy water over him.

"You know, Lennie," Rome smirked, as the Holy Water dripped onto Danila without the slightest interaction, "it's gonna take a lot more than that to get the sewer stench off of him...and me, for that matter. I think we're done here, let's get topside."

"Oh, yes, please!" Georgie agreed, grumpily adjusting her hair. "I can't believe I followed you down here in the first place!"

Taking another step through the sludge, Rome's foot unearthed yet another container. He immediately bent down to take it up. "Hey, look, another one! Jesus, how many idiots are there down here?" He opened the box. The photo was a full ID--the kind with a hole punched in it when you get a new one--and he could read the name: "John Clayton Mayer, well ain't that peachy." He waved the ID around. "Saw this guy having a major freakout upstairs today, so I'd be willing to bet this was one thing that demon didn't lie about." That could almost be taken for granted: demon's lie. He perused the ID for a moment. "And guess who turns 28 in a few days? That's right, this guy."

"Here," Morrigan crouched in the mud: "Another." She opened the box, frowned at the picture. "I guess this is that White Stripes guy."

"Sonofab*tch," Rome grumbled. "Do we even really have to clean up after these self-serving morons? Seriously, is there anything in some Hunter Code that says we can't just let people pay the Piper themselves?"

Danila shot a glare at Lenna. "Was zat really nezezary?" he asked, pulling a kerchief from his pocket to wipe the holy water from his face.

Dan turned to Rome. "I did not come all zees vay to not keel zomething." he said, before holstering his paintball-filled 8mm airsoft pistol and looking to and from the ring of fireballs and Lenna with raised eyebrow.

Lenna grinned at Danila. “I might be a good witch, but I’m a bad girl. I just wanted to see you wet.”

“Okay so we have two more deals due. We have to safe them. They are morons that they sold their souls in the first place but we still safe them, right?” Lenna looked around daring anyone not to agree with her.

“Rome I have at the hotel a couple of books you have to have a look at to see if the hellhounds are what you saw. And we have to find a something that works as protection against hellhounds. I don’t think salt will work. But more we have to get to the two idiots that made the deals. We have to warn them and get them somewhere safe. Rome can you get us backstage somehow?”

Lenna’s flames followed her as they walk back to the exit of the sewer. In the background Georgie was whining about her shoes, which was funny. Lenna didn’t bother to thing how they could clean their clothes and shoes. She hopes they would burn everything.

Aly rubbed the back of her head and wiped the blood off her hands. It was only a minor scrape but would make showering this sh*t off all the more interesting.

"The demon wants to die, I say we oblige him--but only if he releases the er, hostages. I mean, this is a place to make deals, isn't it? Make the demon make a deal with us."

She trudged through the muck back into the clean runoff water and gave herself a temporary shower in the river water. It was cleaner than the other crap at least. Her head stung a bit though. It would have to be thoroughly disinfected. That was going to be fun.

Smelling less like an abandoned out-house, Aly stepped into low sunlight. The sparkling sunset river almost blinded her for a moment. She turned her head away to look at the others. When had Moscow joined them? Probably a slight concussion, thank you demonic son of the devil.

Aly stopped as she found herself wondering what Raime would think--not how she would spin it to him, but actually what he'd think to see her in this state. She blinked it away as the flashing lights called her attention back to the hotel.

Black SUVs now parked in a short line in front of the local PD--government issue with FBI plates.

"Sh*t guys, we've got company."

Somehow she would have to get to Raime, but now with the real Feebs crawling up his ass she doubted he'd be too pleased to see her.

Rome nodded at Elenna, grateful, and pulled her close in a one-armed hug. He wanted to unhinge her scalp just so he could kiss her brain. "Yes," he said, and "yes," he said again, for emphasis. "Backstage passes for everyone, I got 'em. Lennie, you and Mor handle the intel, okay? Figure out what stops these things, and then I want you to work with Aly and and Dan here on arming up. Holy water squirt guns, salt grenades, whatever it takes. I'm taking G and we're going to go talk to our rockstars, and hopefully we'll head over to the venue and start demon-proofing the stage before they open the gates and let people in..."

They were exiting the sewers and nearing the hotel. He managed--barely--to pull his eyes away from Aly's wet, white blouse just in time to see...

"Sh*t guys, we've got company." Aly hissed.

"Aww, hell!" Rome whined, spotting the same problem.

The black SUVs that plagued his nightmares the few times he did sleep, the vehicles that spelled life behind bars for him and probably everyone he had near and dear. He ducked back behind a dumpster, latching onto Georgie's arm to keep her from walking out in plain view.

"Umm. Okay, okay, umm. Okay. New plan." Rome licked his lips. "Everything's the same. Except, um, Aly? Any chance you can get your new boyfriend to run interference? Or are we just finding ourselves a new hotel and laying low?"

Raime took one last breath of her perfume from her pillow before getting up from his short nap. He rubbed his face in his hands, wondering just what was happening between them. His partner would never let him live it down if he dated a Feeb.

He straightened his tie and smoothed his sandy blonde hair back before putting his shoes and jacket back on. Not for the first time did he wish Agent Wesson had accompanied him to her room, but he shrugged it off, slipping her room key into his pocket and leaving the room with a small smile creasing his lips.

A sudden frown replaced it as his partner charged over to him when he reached the lobby.

"Since when are the Feebs taking over this case, Raime?!"

He looked around with his brow furled.

"They aren't. Relax Tommy, she's only consulting."

His partner turned him around to face the glass. Flashing lights almost blinded him, but it was the suits that made his jaw set. She wouldn't have...would she?

"That look like consulting, sir?"

"Stay close." Raime growled as he walked off toward the glass hotel entrance. He was immediately accosted by a particularly stick-up-his-ass Fed.

"You Raime? Special Agent in Charge Holyfield--FBI. Until further notice, we're in charge here."

"We've got it handled here. The coroner is saying ani..."

"That's nice. Have you seen any of these people?"

Who the hell did he think he was? Raime looked the Feeb over with a scowl. He was nothing like Agent Wesson--more like every other pushy, know it all, SOB Feeb he'd experienced or heard about. He was in no mood for this. The Feds just loved to show off.

The Agent flashed pictures in front of him and something dropped in his gut--Agent Wesson--ALY? No. He'd been in her room and like any detective worth his badge he'd looked through her things. Sure, there was some weird stuff, but she was no criminal. This Feeb didn't know anything--and he didn't feel right either. Raime found himself shaking his head at all the pictures.

"Agent, I have slightly more pressing concerns than some runaways. You have something to add to my case, fine--other than that--get off my jurisdiction."

"Detective, these are federal fugitives, armed, highly dangerous and intensely psychotic. We have reason to believe they are in this city, and wherever they go, they're attached to the biggest crime spree. So if you have heard anything or do hear of anything, you will not hesitate to inform me." Not a question. A fact.

Raime shrugged.

"This wasn't a crime spree--wild animal attack--one of the band members likes big cats. If I see your "highly dangerous" fugitives, I'll be sure to let you know. Until then, I have a crime scene to manage."

"If you want to survive this, detective, you will."

"Are you threatening me, Agent? I told you I'd give you information if I had it. You're not part of this crime scene. What else do you want from me? I want all the official red tape seen to, not one little shortcut--then and only then would I share information."

Holyfield, who had turned as if he was planning on going away peacefully, stopped at the door. Raime braced himself for a sh*tstorm, but the Agent only smiled, his face twisted as if it was unaccustomed to such an expression. "See. that's exactly how nervous you should be right now." The Agent left.

Raime rolled his eyes and looked to his partner.

"You believe this? Keep tabs on the Feds. I want to know if they so much as look in the direction of this hotel. This is our case and I'll be damned if they take it over."

"Sure Jack, what about the other one--the pretty one?"

"Leave her to me and make sure everyone here knows not to give the Feebs a thing."

Raime left the scene and went back into the hotel, Allison Wesson the only thing on his mind. Who was she? What was she doing here? And why did he trust her more that the Feds outside?

Lenna’s heart started racing, she looked at Rome. This was bad all their things were in the hotel.

Oh no my books.

“They aren’t looking for Morrigan. She could get all our things, and we have to keep going with the plan saving the idiots of rock stars. We can’t just let them die. We knew it was just a matter of time that the Feds show up, but as long we are careful we’ll be fine. We can’t just give up.”

Lenna peeked around the corner. Rome grabbed her arm, from stopping her to move into the view of the Feds. Lenna smiled at him. “I think I might have an idea. It is not a great one but it might work to keep them off our backs. We know where and who they are but they just think they know who we are. We just have to keep out of their reach, that all. Maybe we should get new alias? Come on let’s go we can’t stay in here forever or Georgie might get a heart attack.”

Morrigan slipped into the hotel rooms and started to pack up everyone's stuff. "Don't you worry about your stuff, Lenna. You guys do what you need to do to evade the Feds. I will go back and get our stuff. Give me a call when you are safe and I will meet up with you." She put down her phone and started to walk out with Lenna's books and a large pink suitcase belonging to Georgie.

For once she was the one ahead of the game. It was nice to be the one who didn't have to look around every corner for someone wanting to lock her up. She realized as she was packing up her Rover that she'd never had the chance to ask who the Russian that had saved there sorry butts was, or where he'd come from.

This was one of the only times Georgie couldn't agree more with Elenna. "Yes, please, can we leave? I can't stay behind this dumpster any longer, the smell makes me sick!"

Elenna rolled her eyes. "You know that there are worse things in life?"

"Yes, but-"

"Ladies!" Rome cleared his throat, and the girls knew he was right. They had other things to worry about. Morrigan had already sneaked into the hotel to get their stuff.

"By the way..." Georgie turned to Elenna. "Do you have any idea how to fight a hellhound? I doubt that it can be fought by splashing a little holy water or salt on it."

Her friend shrugged her shoulders. "Actually, that's what I still need to find out."

"And that demon from before...It was obvious that you can't kill it as easily as other demons", Georgie said.

Elenna nodded. "Yepp, there must be another way to kill it..."

Lenna waited two blocks from the hotel to meet Morrigan. Lenna was sitting in the shadow of a small building and tried not to look suspicious. After an eternity Morrigan’s car stopped in front of her.

“You look not suspicious at all.”

“Whatever. Did you get everything?”

“Yes everything. How many books do you have in your bag?”

“Um, I’m not sure I think just the most needed ones. Which are I think nine. But we have more important things. I think I found out how protect our rock stars. We have the backstage passes, we go in and start painting devils traps on the stage and to make them invisible we draw them with paint that is just visible in ultraviolet light. And I found in the internet, which may be not the best source, but we are running out of time some stuff against the hellhounds. It is some kind of hoodoo powder. No idea how effective this stuff is, it’s called Goofy dust or something like that. I wrote it down. Anyway we need graveyard dirt, salt and pepper, ash, powdered sulfur, powdered bones and powdered insects. So we better get going and get everything together.”

“I was gone for what thirty minutes and you collected all this data?”

“Well yeah I was bored while I was hiding and waiting. Sorry.”

Lenna looked a bit guilty and embarrassed at Morrigan.

“I didn’t mean to sound like as if I’m giving orders and if you want you can do the research next time.”

Rome shrugged. Everything important to him was on him at all times, and Rolex wasn't ever going to run out of watches, and it wasn't that hard to find Batman toothbrushes or Gucci luggage bags.

But that Armani suit was going to come in super handy pretty soon.

"Okay, G, follow me," Rome said, taking her hand and leaving Morrigan and Elenna with the Rover and the Russian.

He then proceeded, as if he owned the place--it wasn't difficult for either he or Georgie to behave like they owned the place--to the back stairs, where the roadies were still running things up and down. He breezed through the security with his Roadie ID from before, and with all the fat, ugly guys running around smelling like pigs, no one really noticed the sewer stench until they got to their rooms.

"So...we've got about five hours before this concert starts. That only gives us an hour to get presentable--" Rome flinched, waiting for the You don't need a whole friggen hour to shower and get dressed! onslaught, before he remembered he was with Georgie:

"Perfection takes time," she insisted.

"Okay, two hours, but you better make it worth it," he winked. "And start planning what we're gonna say to these morons, because I have no clue beyond getting our foot in the door by offering you as a, ahem 'Groupie'."

Whack! Okay, he deserved that.

"Only joking," he added with a wry smile, resisting the urge to rub his damaged sternum. Man, that girl could punch like a freight train! "Oh! And wear black, in case we end up backstage." Rome was envisioning something black and slinky and not really covering most of her body, but he hoped he could save whatever little luck he had for later this evening.

One hour and forty-five very useful minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Smith exited their rooms, clean, looking and smelling perfectly, wearing dazzling smiles that could charm the pants off a man-eating-lion from a dozen paces, armed, dangerous, and liscenced to dress to kill.

Allison slipped into her room after ducking through the hotel's maintenance entrance. She needed a real shower and didn't care if the FBI was waiting outside with cuffs, she was getting one.

She pulled off her cloths and tossed them in the hamper before stepping under the hot water, letting it cascade down her soft tanned flesh. Aly stepped out and wrapped a towel around herself once she'd cleaned the scrape on the back of her head. Her clothes were in the room so she moved into the bedroom keeping her back to the bed as she moved for her suitcase.

"So not an FBI agent. Knew you were too good to be true."

Raime's voice made her jump, holding the towel tight to her chest while backing against her open suitcase.

"I ah...I can explain. I really am FBI--was FBI--I...Jack..."

He stood and walked over to her, standing tantalizingly close to her dripping frame.

"Long story huh?"

"You could say that."

"Tell me the truth, Aly--all of it."

She nibbled at her lip as she nodded. He didn't come closer. She related the chase of Rome and the shape-shifter that killed her partner, along with finding these hunters to be trustworthy.

"I know it all sounds crazy--believe me, it is--but it's all real. I saw a demon today and he's killing your rockstars. All the music, it was all written by him--Robert Johnson, the original 27 Club. Please, Jack--please believe me."

"That why you have silver bullets and holy water in your things?"

She nodded.

He ran his finger through his hair, his eyes on her making her skin burn. She jolted at his touch on her bare shoulder.

"I must be nuts, but I believe you more than that Holyfield stooge."

She shuddered. Of course it would be him.

Aly was taken by surprise as his lips met hers. She hesitated a moment, feeling her state of undress before joining the kiss. It felt right.

"God, Aly--I think I've wanted to do that since you walked into my crime scene."

"Ummmhummm"

The towel dropped to the floor forgotten as his tongue swept into her mouth. She blushed as he pulled back to look her over. His fingers laced through her dripping brown hair and pulled her back into a deep, passion stirring kiss. She made quick work of his suit as he pushed her gently back onto her bed.

The entire FBI could listen outside her door for all she cared.

She found ecstasy in his love.

Aly curled herself around him and purred.

"Mmm, Jack."

His lips brushed her forehead.

"You can't stay here, Aly. They'll be back for you."

"I have to protect your rockstars."

"Not at your expense. Aly, please?"

He kissed all over her face which tickled making her giggle up at his piercing grey eyes. Their lips met again, rekindling their passion. It wasn't extinguished until they both lay gasping for breath in each others arms.

Morrigan and Lenna got changed, after all just their feet where in the gore of the sewers so a new pair of pans and shoes was the only necessary thing. They didn’t have a lot time to waste. It took them an hour to gather all needed things together. When they reached the concert hall, they flashed their backstage passes.

“We are here for the stage decorations there is some painting that needs to be done.”

“Yeah fine whatever, just hurry up.”

“Thank you.” Chirped Lenna.

The two girls went to the stage at both sides of it Morrigan started painting the devils traps on the floor, with the paint that was just visible in ultraviolet light, while Lenna was making the goofer dust.

“I hope Romeo and Barbie are talking to our friends and they understand that we wanna help them. How are the DT’s coming?”