INFERNUM

  (ETHAN DRAKE BOOK 7)

  N.P MARTIN

  Ethan Drake Series

  BLACKSTAR (PREQUEL)

  INFERNAL JUSTICE

  BLOOD SUMMONED

  DEATH DEALERS

  BLACK MIRROR

  HELL PATROL

  INFERNAL VENGEANCE

  INFERNUM

  Deadson Confidential Trilogy

  INFERNAL LAISONS

  DEATH CULT

  DRAGON BLOOD

  Gods And Monsters Series

  SINISTER MAGIC

  OTHERWORLD MAGIC

  SHADOW MAGIC

  HELLFIRE MAGIC

  WILDCARD MAGIC

  ROCKSTAR MAGIC

  Wizard’s Creed Series

  CRIMSON CROW

  BLOOD MAGIC

  BLOOD DEBT

  BLOOD CULT

  BLOOD DEMON

  Nephilim Rising Series

  HUNTER’S LEGACY

  DEMON’S LEGACY

  HELL’S LEGACY

  DEVIL’S LEGACY

  Greytown Horrors Series

  DARK SOLSTICE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  N.P. Martin

  Infernum

  Ethan Drake Series Book 7

  Copyright © 2023 by N. P. MARTIN

  info@npmarin.com

  Cover design by Original Book Cover Designs

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  FREE BOOK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  MAKE A DIFFERENCE

  TEASER: INFERNAL LIAISONS (DEADSON CONFIDENTIAL BOOK 1)

  Books By N. P. Martin

  About The Author

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  Chapter

  One

  I awoke to a deathly silence; the remnants of the voices that had haunted my dreams were now nothing but a distant echo. The voice of my dead daughter, Callie, was finally at peace; her soul had moved on to where it belonged. The man who had taken her from me was gone, and I finally felt a sense of peace wash over me. At least I got to see them both one last time before they moved on to the afterlife: Callie, Angela too.

  They could have hated me for all that I had done, but they didn’t. They still loved me, even Angela. In that brief meeting, the day after I had killed Wendell Knightsbridge and put a stop to his nefarious plans, Angela and I had made our peace. All thanks to a demon who had granted me access to my angels for a short time, made possible by a serial killer whom I had put an end to. This was the crazy world I lived in, where death and redemption were intertwined and where one’s fate was determined by the actions of others.

  I didn’t get up immediately, lighting a cigarette as I lay in bed, staring as the cold morning light spilled through the window into the trailer. Today was going to be my first day back at work, my first day as a cop again. Even after everything I had done, the Fairfield Police Department still wanted me back. And I was more than happy to go back. What else was I going to do? Sit around the junkyard all day drinking beer, like Cal had done? No thanks. Being an investigator, being a cop, was all I knew. It was the only thing that kept me sane, even if the job drove me mad sometimes. I needed it. And like it or not, the FPD needed me as well. Who else was willing to dive headfirst into the darkness, to sift through the filth and detritus? No one else had the stomach for it. Routman knew that better than anyone did when he asked me to come back.

  Padding naked into the cramped bathroom, I turned on the shower and stared at myself in the cracked mirror above the sink while I waited for the water to warm up. Not bad for forty-five years old. Considering everything I had been through in my life, I should have looked a lot older. Hell, I shouldn’t even be here at all. But here I was, with a full head of hair and a face that seemed content, if not happy.

  “Good morning, Detective Drake,” I said with a smile, hardly able to believe I was soon going to be walking into my old job again. Though my smile faltered when I thought of Hannah. I still missed her. It should have been her I was going to work with today, my old partner. But she was back to being the Elohim she was always meant to be. Digging around in the dirt with me was never becoming of a celestial being, even though she had enjoyed it. It made me wonder, though, whom Routman was going to partner me up with. I hoped no one, but I also knew that wouldn’t be the case. Some poor soul would end up with me, having no idea what they were getting into. Routman had asked me back on the force for a reason, because he knew I was the only one qualified, or willing, to handle the cases none of the other cops wanted. The cases that would otherwise be buried in the archives and left unsolved. Special cases, as former Commissioner Lewellan and I used to call them when I headed up the short-lived Unit X. Special cases for a special case, so the joke went.

  Smiling once more, I stepped into the shower. As I lathered my body with soap, I still marveled at the fact that all my old scars were gone. Getting your entire body burned to a crisp in Hell before nanobots regrew your flesh and skin would do that to you. I had lost my tattoos as well. I would have to get some new ones at some point. The old ones saved my life on a regular basis. Going without them was a no-no. I just had to find the right tattooist. In this town, that shouldn’t be too difficult.

  After my shower, I got dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and a dark tie. A tan trench coat went over the shirt. Let’s see how long this one lasts before it gets torn to shreds or covered in blood, I thought with a wry grin. I’d lost count of all the coats I’d gone through on the job, as well as shirts. Which reminded me: I would have to get some spare shirts to keep in the car. Hopefully, I would make it through the day without needing a new one.

  In the kitchen, I made some coffee and poured it into a mug that had the following emblazoned on it:

  I LOVE CLEANING UP MESSES THAT I DIDN’T MAKE.

  THAT’S WHY I BECAME A COP.

  Smiling, I shook my head after reading the words on the mug. It was a present from Daisy, bought after I’d told her I was getting my old job back.

  Speaking of Daisy, I went outside my trailer when I heard her motorbike starting. She turned the engine off when she saw me coming and opened the visor on her black and red helmet.

  “You’re heading off early,” I said, my coffee steaming in the winter morning air.

  “I said I would help Vic train the new girls today,” Daisy said. “In knife work.”

  “No better girl for the job.”

  “How does it feel to be a cop again?” she asked.

  “Ask me that at the end of the day,” I said. “You’ll get a more honest answer.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” She smiled. “I’m proud of you, Ethan. You deserve this.”

  “Yeah, what did I do wrong, right?” I shook my head. “Just kidding. Thanks, Daisy.”

  She started the engine of the 750cc Honda. “Try not to kill anyone today, will you?”

  “Yeah, right back at you.”

  “I’m a Valkyrie,” she said, before flicking her visor down. “It’s what we do.” Gripping the handlebars, she put the bike in gear and sped off, disappearing into the lanes that wound through the mountains of scrap metal.

  I stood for a minute, shaking my head at the fact that Daisy was a scared twelve-year-old girl not that long ago. Back then, she always seemed so small and vulnerable. I couldn’t say the same about her now. She wasn’t even that much older, but she had grown in ways that no one, especially her, could ever have foreseen. She was strong now. Powerful. And also deadly
, thanks to the powers she channeled and all the training and experience she had received—from me and from the Valkyries. Along with them, she did what she had to do to protect this city from those who would harm the innocent. She made me prouder every damn day.

  “Good morning, Ethan,” Haedemus rasped, his rotting flesh pulling back to reveal his yellowed teeth as he grinned. “Or should I say, Detective Drake. I’m very glad you’re a cop again, Ethan. It means we can work cases together. I was thinking too that we should really be full partners. Perhaps you should get me a badge. What do you think?”

  I shook my head, trying not to gag at the stench of decay emanating from him. “I’m not getting you a badge, Haedemus. Hellicorns don’t get police badges. And since when did you work cases with me?”

  Haedemus let out a guttural laugh, his rotting flesh quivering. “Are you serious? I helped you with lots of cases.”

  “Yeah, that’s not the same as working cases with me, is it?”

  Hi shoulders shook with mild indignation. “Potatoes, potahtoes. I still helped, didn’t I?”

  I took a sip of my coffee, trying to ignore the maggots wriggling in Haedemus’ wounds. “Yeah, you did. Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll call upon you when I need you.”

  “You’d better, Ethan. Don’t leave me to rot in this stinking yard. I’m not like the Hellbastards. They are easily amused by stupid things. I am not. I need intellectual stimulation or I just, you know, wither away and die.”

  “You’re already dead, Haedemus.”

  He let out a sigh, his breath reeking of rot and decay. “Yes, thanks for pointing that out, Ethan. Nothing like a good dose of reality to start the day off right, is there?” He nudged me with his massive head, almost knocking me off balance. “Speaking of bodies, I had the strangest dream last night that I was human. Needless to say, I looked magnificent, even for a human. You should’ve seen the mane of hair I had. It was fabulous.”

  “That right?” I paused for a second before sipping my coffee, his comment making me think about the strangely lucid dreams I’d been having lately myself. Dreams of being with Vic in foreign climes, and of fighting against dragon shifters. Dreams of being shot and ending up in a wheelchair. Weirdly specific dreams.

  “It all seemed so real, Ethan.” His head dropped slightly. “I certainly wished it was.”

  I patted him on his neck, my fingers deftly avoiding the holes in his flesh. “We are who we are meant to be, buddy.”

  “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to stay hidden all the time. I feel like a leper, Ethan. Hell, I even look like one.”

  “How about later, we go for a ride along the beach? That always cheers you up, right?”

  Haedemus’ red eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Can we go to that spot on the cliffs and watch the sun go down?”

  “Yeah, if I’m home before then. I’ll try my best. If not, you’ll have to watch the moon instead. It’s full tonight.”

  “Yes, that would be awesome. Thank you, Ethan.”

  “Don’t mention it, buddy.”

  I was about to walk back into my trailer when I saw the Hellbastards come ambling out from between two mounds of scrap metal. That they were all covered in blood didn’t surprise me much. “Good morning,” I called. “Rough night, boys? Who was it this time?”

  “Some hellot guy in Bankhurst,” Scroteface, the larger of the diminutive demons, said in his reedy voice. “He deserved it, Boss. Don’t worry.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure he did. I hope you did your due diligence before killing him.”

  “Always, Boss,” Reggie said, a fat blunt stuck between his wide mouth.

  “I double-checked,” Haedemus said. “Don’t worry, Ethan.”

  The Hellbastards were picking their targets more carefully these days. No more bums or random perverts at the park. They used a computer provided by Artemus and Pan Demic, giving them access to sophisticated surveillance software and databases. They mostly went after hellots now, and pedophiles, who they would never stop hunting. At least they were putting their talents to good use, cleaning up the streets while they were at it. I would’ve preferred they didn’t hunt at all, given the risks involved, but it was in their blood. As much as it was in mine.

  “Another one bites the dust then, huh?” I said.

  “Like Freddy Mercury!” Cracka, the smallest and arguably the most viscous of the gang, said gleefully.

  Snot Skull punched Cracka on the side of the head. “You mean like Freddy Mercury said. Don’t insult Freddy like that.”

  “Fuck you!” Cracka spat. “Freddy dead! So another bites the dust just like Freddy did!”

  “Cut it out, children,” Haedemus said. “Before I go over there and stick my horn up all your asses.”

  “Pervert!” Cracka spat.

  Toast, skin blackened and crispy, eyes burning orange, laughed. “The biggest pervert!”

  “Insolent little shits!” Haedemus shouted, before galloping at them, chasing them all to the back of the yard where their trailer was, and where they would spend most of the day sleeping or watching TV.

  Shaking my head, I walked back to my trailer, wondering how I ever ended up with such a hellish family. “Fuckin’ Wednesday Addams ain’t got nuthin’ on me.”

  When I walked back into the trailer, I froze and almost dropped my coffee mug, my hand instinctively reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. “What the fuck?”

  It was Lucifer. He stood in the narrow confines of my living room, his red suit in tatters, his wings ragged and stained with blood. “Hello, Ethan,” he said, looking and sounding like he’d just come out of a one hundred year war.

  “Lucifer?” I stared at him, wondering what the hell had happened to him. “You look… fucked.”

  His eyes glowed red as he smiled without humor. “We’re all fucked, Ethan,” he said. “Every last one of us.”

  Chapter

  Two

  “What the hell is going on, Lucifer?” I set my mug down and lit a cigarette as I stared at him, disturbed by his ravaged appearance. Lucifer was one of the most powerful beings in the universe. What the hell could’ve roughed him up like this? He was actually bleeding, with cuts and bruises all over his face, which I didn’t even think was possible for someone like him.

  “Can I get one of those?” He held out a bloody hand for a cigarette, which disturbed me further, for he usually just conjured his own cigarettes. I gave him the one I had just lit and then lit up another for myself. “Thank you.”

  Lucifer stared with empty eyes at the floor for a moment while we both stood smoking in silence.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened to you?” I asked eventually. “Why are you so fucked up?”

  That humorless smile crossed his once perfect face again. “I should’ve realized this was going to happen,” he mumbled. “I should’ve known. Maybe then I could’ve stopped him before he—” He sucked on his cigarette and shook his head, looking like a madman with his disheveled hair and wild eyes.

  “Stopped who, Lucifer? You’re not making much sense.”

  “The one who runs everything now. The new warden of this prison.”

  I shook my head and sighed. “Fuck’s sake, Lucifer—”

  “My father’s twin!” His nostrils flared as he shouted, his eyes burning red. “He’s back, Ethan! He’s back!”

  What the hell?

  “All right,” I said in a level voice. “Why don’t you take a seat and calm down, Lucifer. Then you can explain to me what happened.”