Demon Trackers: The Anointed

part twelve

Ten minutes later they were at the closest pass-through near their father's home in Indiana, two states over from where they'd entered Karavel. Glancing at each other, they each took a breath and gathered their energy. Since the pass-through wanted to keep the Anointed in, getting out of the dimension was more a matter of using the energy of their blood to punch their way out.

As soon as they crossed the bridge back into the mortal world, both their phones started chirping. Their cell plan didn't exactly carry coverage into different dimensions.

Cal pulled his phone out. "It's Dad. Left several texts. On yours too?"

Jake's thumb scrolled down his messages. "Yep. Needs help tracking some sort of little critters in West Virginia."

Another job. After finally letting everything out about Iason, Cal felt emotionally drained. Focusing on an easy gig with their dad would be a welcome distraction before digging in and tracking down all those demons. They'd probably need the help of their Dad and his 666 Squad with that anyway since the demons would have scattered all over the place by now. He rubbed a hand over his chest as though a physical pain resided there. "We could be there in a few hours."

"Or cut back through Karavel and get there in twenty minutes."

"Nah," the brothers said in unison. While Cal called their dad, Jake scrolled to the Muse album on his iPod and sped down the open road.

~~~

“Why can’t we just go in and roast the things?”

Henry Gillant glanced at his oldest son, and placed his palm over the fidgeting hands, a warning to be quiet…and still. You know why, he hoped his look conveyed. They got one shot at this. They had to wait until dark when all the diurnal gremlins returned to the cave. It'd taken him days to find the cavern, backtracking to it from a fresh set of prints. But he needed the boys. They had to get all the little beasties together, not just the few that were already in there, because once the little nasties’s cave was compromised, any survivors would scatter and it’d be hell tracking them all again.

Henry smiled. He'd never have imagined that walking into that other cave twenty years ago with his platoon would lead him to the kind of life that would haunt most civilians, tracking the kinds of creatures even the military didn't know existed. The Rangers had gone in after terrorist weapon smugglers and found monsters of smoke and teeth and an exotic raven-haired woman already combating them. His men won that battle. He won the girl. The mission report filed was a little short on details, but the tapes and picture evidence he'd shown to his commanding officers was not. Henry immediately found himself in command of a newly formed special operations force, affectionately referred to by those in the platoon as Squad 666. His men traveled all over the world, tracking monsters and things that go bump in the night. Mostly solo jobs, occasionally together.

Henry had gained more than a new command and a woman he was crazy over—still was when he was honest with himself—he gained two sons he was monumentally proud of. Though the circumstances hadn't been ideal, in fact damn well frightening for a father, the night Celalundria placed the boys in his care was a gift. Already trained by the Anointed, Henry and his pals armed the boys with a few tricks of their own—Special Forces style. Since they were hell-bent on tracking monsters, Henry Gillant gave his kids the skills to keep them alive.