The Wayward Shepard

Prologue

It was hot. Only in south Louisiana can it be hot at 3 o'clock in the morning. That sticky, nasty weather that will make you sweat just sitting on a park bench. The only saving grace was a gentle breeze coming off of the Mississippi River behind me. There's nothing like New Orleans in August, the  only city where even at three in the morning the streets are full and the party is still jumping if you know where to look.

Although it was hot, it was still a pretty night. I was currently leaning against a post in front of St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square watching people enjoy their beignets and café au lait. None of them were aware of the true dangers around them. They did not realize the threats that lingered in a city like this. You see, many demons are attracted to a city like this, where there is temptation on every corner and in every bar.

Of course there's always Vegas. I went there once tracking down a particular demon and there isn't enough money in the world to convince me to go back. If New Orleans is where they go to hunt, Las Vegas is where they live. I can't even watch CSI without you getting chills up my spine.

I pulled up the sleeve of my black leather jacket to check the time. Three o'clock is the hunting time for demons. That time when the world of the living and the world of the dead are closest to one another. That hour after closing time when people stagger home from the bar and make mistakes that they think will make great stories some day.

I ruffled my jacket to allow some air to get under it and cool me. I hate having to wear it in the summer but even in a city like this people tend to notice the big guy casually walking around loaded for bear.

It didn't take long before I spotted him. He looked like any other high school jock that had been handed everything he ever wanted. Polo shirt, designer jeans, and shoes that probably cost more than most people made in a week.He had an olive complexion with dark hair and eyes, and of course his hair was gelled and spiked. He stood six foot four to an inch and looked like he could bench press one of the mules pulling the carriages up and down the street.

On his arm was a petite little blonde. She had the classic blue eyes and straw blonde hair with a pouty little mouth. She was five feet five and beautiful, with curves that would impress a rally car driver. She had herself plastered to his side, and his every move and word said he was there for one reason and one reason only.

I followed them as they left Café Du Monde and made their way down St. Peter Street. They turned off at Royal Street and continued to Toulouse Street and made their way to the Maison De Ville Hotel. I waited until they entered their room before posting myself outside the door to wait for the screaming to start. I didn't have to wait long. To my surprise I heard the guy cry out in alarm and begin to yell and curse in a high pitched voice. I shrugged off my jacket to better access my weapons and made my move.

I pulled my Stoeger double barrel shotgun from the leather harness attached to my back and blew the entire door knob off of the door. I kicked the ruined door into the room and before the roar of the shotgun died, I had dropped the Stoeger and pulled the two Ruger Vaqueros from the small of my back and leveled the revolvers at the demon standing before me.

I had been mistaken. I had thought the male was the demon, tempting the young girl back to his hotel room. I wasn't prepared when I came face to face with a full blown succubus from the Abyss.

This close to her, her powerful veil washed over me and it seemed as if I was looking at the most beautiful woman in the world. She was no longer the petite little blonde I had watched eat at the Café. I now realized that she had only seemed so ordinary due to the distance at which I had been viewing her before. Now here she was all sensual curves and dark lashes positively radiating sex. She was beautiful in a way I would never be able to explain. It wasn't merely her looks or body, although those were certainly exquisite. It was something primal. Something in her reached into me and touched the basic instincts that all animals possessed and turned the libido up to eleven. But all it took was a little concentration and I was able to see her for what she really was.

         She stood there in all her horrible glory, and thanks to the power given to me I was able to pierce her veil and see the monster that she really was. She stood there with her emaciated frame and sagging breasts. Her skin was the color of fresh blood and her head was bald. Inside her gash of a mouth were more teeth than had any right to be in such a small space. They were horrible teeth, like those found in a shark. But the worst part was the eyes. It's always the eyes.

         Where her eye balls and eye lids should have been were nothing buy deep black pits. And in those pits burned a fire, a horrible fire that spoke of fever, suffering, and despair.

Upon seeing her true self, I calmly thumbed back the hammers on my Rugers and moved between it and the innocent young man. I could hear him whimpering pitifully behind me as I stared down the demon.

Seeing that she could not sway me with her veil, she dropped it and the young man behind me began to cry. She continued to stare at me and I watched as she tilted her head to the side like a dog who had found something interesting in the back yard.

        "I know who you are, Padre", hissed the demon, in a voice that reeked of suffering.

"You are well known to us of the Abyss. You are the man who made a deal with the devil and was surprised when there were strings attached. You are the man who sacrificed his world to save one soul. Do you think you can harm me with your mortal weapon? I am a High Priestess of the......"

       "Silence", I said with all the weight of the Holy behind my voice and smiled silently as the demon was struck dumb.

"I don't care if you were Elvis' private call girl. This is my city demon, and as many of your kind have found to their displeasure no demon hunts in my city for long. As for my 'mortal weapons', I doubt seriously that you would even flinch if you were shot by a tank. But tell me demon, what do you think a .357 Magnum round dipped in holy water blessed by the Pope himself will do to your sunny disposition? Well? Speak hellspawn!"

        "I cannot be harmed!" screeched the succubus, "I am....."

        I never learned who she was. The Ruger in my right hand bucked and as the 158 grain hollow point blew through the wench's misshapen head the dark magics that held her in this world blew away and she dissolved before she could hit the ground.

        "Go to Hell skank", I said grimly before turning to check on the young man crying on the floor behind me. The poor bastard was shaking and crying like a three year old who had finally realized that there really was something living in the closet.

       I called 911 and had them en route to the Hotel for the young man as I walked out of the room. I retrieved my shotgun and duster and made my way down Toulouse Street, whistling show tunes as I walked. Another demon down, another innocent saved.

       Another good night for a damned man.