The Captivator

Chapter 4

Stepping out into the now midday heat of Chicago, I squint through half lidded eyes at what seems to be a jeep. Well, not exactly, but if I had to compare it to anything, a jeep is the only thing that could possibly be considered close. With enormous, white hot, puffed out tires, the vehicle also could be similar to a monster truck. “Well, are you coming?” inquires Jared as he strolls toward the…thing.

“Umm...” I begin, and then shrug. “Of course.” I’ve never been in a vehicle like this before, and by the looks of it, neither has Vyn. She stares incredulously at the gigantic tires and lightly skims her fingertips on one. Jerking her hand back with a low hiss, she cradles her now sizzling hand with her other one. I can smell singed flesh, along with the fetid scent of demon blood.

“What is this?” Vyn snarls in a low, intimidating voice. Most injuries inflicted on demons heal and vanish at rapid rates, but her fingers still look blistered and seared, trickling beads of cherry red demon blood. I think about how Vyn earlier joked about the idea of angel craft igniting her like holy fire and am shocked to discover that this must be a war machine of some kind. This sets me on a warrior-like alertness, considering that the equivalent of a human war tank had been sent to pick up and deliver me to the Authority.  

Confirming my suspicions, Jared says without emotion, “This vehicle is one of few in existence and was intended to remain inconspicuous to humans while eradicating any demons in its path.” Belatedly, Jared casually comments as he swings himself into the driver’s seat, “The tires will burn you like the flames of hell.”

I feel a slight pang of bitterness towards Jared’s attitude towards Vyn, but immediately push that thought aside. It’s not as if she’s human. I clamber into the back of the car, Vyn warily joining me.

“You should probably summon Jeremiah now,” Jared calls back to me as he revs the engine.

“No.” Vyn responds, her voice like sharp tipped icicles, “I don’t want him anywhere near this car.”  The car lurches forward, Vyn and I banging heads. I subtly glare at her as I rub my throbbing skull.

“Why not?” My protest is met by an even more vehement look. Then I roll my eyes and nod in concession. Vyn isn’t worth angering and I know how protective she is over her brother. Seeming pleased, Vyn visibly relaxes, reassuming her cocky stance.

I groan inwardly--are all demons this infuriating?--and turn my head away from her, glancing out the window. I feel my face cloud over in shock, then disbelief as I see our massive car roll over the inner city traffic, completely unnoticed by the humans. I see a bored man yawn while staring directly at us in complete obliviousness in the car to the right of our monster vehicle. This elicits a grin from me but I stop immediately as soon as I see Vyn doing the same. I inexplicably hope she didn’t notice. Then, our angel-mobile takes a sharp turn to the left, heading straight for an enormous skyscraper. Jared expression seems unperturbed as we near the building, and then begin to roll upwards, parallel to the building. Both mine and Vyn’s eyes widen, awestruck expressions on our faces that neither of us tries to conceal.

Jared glances back at us and grins, “Did you guys seriously think I was going to wait in that rush hour traffic?” He laughs as we ascend the soaring skyscraper. I needlessly grip the bottom of my seat even though I feel no gravity pulling me downwards.

“How…” murmurs Vyn.

I smile ridiculously and simply state, “Angel-craft.”

I see Jared nod in confirmation. “The tires were infused with ground up animus, that would be the white crystal material that also makes our rods.”

But Vyn doesn’t seem to be listening, instead her eyes are glued to the view. Traveling vertically creates an interesting spectrum, the bright blue afternoon sky dominating the frame of view. Again, we seem to tumble forward as we regain our horizontal surroundings on the top of the building.

We hop out of the angel-mobile onto the roof of this twenty-something story high building. The wind is wild, whipping our hair in arbitrary directions. After a quick glance around, all I see are some sun bleached lawn chairs and a maintenance shed, presumably with an elevator inside. What are we doing here? I wonder. Jared stalks over to the shed and unlocks the padlocked door with a key that appeared from his pocket. “Summon him,” Jared orders as he slips inside and closes the door behind him.