Wrath of the Demon Girl

by Eddie R. Hicks

  “Back home.”

  “Stay here.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? You’re already staying at one of my safe houses. Stay here with me and bring Emily too.”

  “Ah, I get it,” I said as I lifted a new pair of jeans and tank top with a cute midriff. “Jim, are you fucking scared?”

  He chuckled while I retreated to the washroom to change. “Reika, I’m in no position to fight and protect myself right now.”

  I retrieved my phone and vape from the mess of blood-soaked clothing I had been wearing. My texting app loaded while my thumbs began to type a heads-up to Emily that I won’t be making it home tonight. If the wailing shrills of police, ambulances, and fire trucks outside was any indication, word of our fighting and car chase had been reported. Besides, I needed to heal my body, and the healing spring talent only worked during the night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Early in the morning, my phone made a racket loud enough to convince my sleep-deprived body that the world was coming to an end. I rolled out of bed, literally, and crashed onto the hard floor, the frustration in me caused my body to erupt in flames. I was ready to burn the whole Goddamn place down, just to end the sound of my phone’s ringtone.

  Logic and reason kicked in and reminded me I was still at the Brighton Beach safe house where Jim and I had escaped to last night. My flames faded away as I looked at the caller display. It was Gabe, I should have known.

  “What,” I groaned as I answered the call.

  “Good morning to you too,” Gabe’s suave and calm voice said.

  “There’s fuck all good about this morning.”

  “Tell me about it, someone made a big mess of Little Odessa last night.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “By someone, I mean a demon.”

  And by mess, he was referring to the aftermath of my chaotic escape last night. This call was coming to me no matter what. The question was, did he know I was involved? Time to put my PI skills to work. “Explain,” I asked, playing dumb.

  “I’m being asked to check it out since the precinct there doesn’t have their paranormal team set up just yet.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “I could use your assistance with this one, been a while since we had a paranormal case together.”

  “Text me the address.”

  Not that I needed it, or directions on how to get there, for that matter, it was a few blocks away. But what I did need was the chance to scrub any evidence that suggested I was the one involved. If I was linked to this, then there was a chance Jim could be exposed in his vulnerable state. Jim was still a criminal at the end of the day, and Gabe was a cop. The two most important men in my life, needed to not meet each other, ever. The hospital fiasco last fall didn’t count as Gabe was convinced he was a regular patient. I guess this is what a cheating wife feels like.

  I also couldn’t risk Gabe learning of the case I was working on. I was still certain both Belyana and her mother were in the country illegally. I’d rather not have the two of them deported before I got paid, should they get exposed.

  I arrived at the streets where my Fast and the Furious-like car chase took place, with a magical touch by yours truly. The streets still had a hint of a devastating winter wonderland, frozen water mains, sheets of ice, mashed-to-shit cars that met an unfortunate and fatal end as a result of the aforementioned. The place was blocked off by the NYPD while they removed the bodies of the mobsters and towed away the cars after their investigation.

  Gabe waved me in, allowing me to slip under the strip of yellow police tape. It made me feel all important ‘n’ shit. We stood watching a massive glacier I created slowly melt under the morning June sunlight.

  “It’s almost summer, ice doesn’t just pop up like this,” Gabe said. “Looks like a water-talent user was here.”

  Wonder who that could have been? “I’d say so,” I said to him. “Any idea on who was involved?”

  “It was well after midnight, not a lot of folks were awake other than those already on the road. And those folks claimed to have seen two people in the lead car. But check this out.” Gabe led me to one of many body bags needed to haul the dead Russian mobsters away. He unzipped one, showing me the popsicle body inside. “We haven’t gotten around to IDing the bodies yet. But as you can see by the tattoos, the location we’re in, and the torched car dealership where most of these cars came from, I’m going to say Russian mafia.”

  A car dealership, that’s where we were held before our escape. “What’s so important about that?”

  “There was a suspicious fire that burned a number of display cars,” Gabe said. “There was also evidence of gunfire and a few suckers that weren’t so lucky to escape from it. The owner of the place is a man named Arkady Sokolov. He probably didn’t pay his protection money.”

  Arkady Sokolov, the name rang a bell. It was the name of Leonid’s friend, a man I was supposed to ask a few questions . . . before the mob got hold of me. My phone came into my hands while I scrolled through the rough notes I made on its note taking app.

  “You know something, Reika?” Gabe asked.

  I kept my eyes on my phone’s screen and made a high-gamble lie. “No . . . I don’t.” I had my poker face on complete with shades as my face was still buried in my phone’s contents.

  “Nothing at all?” Gabe pressed on, being the tenacious detective he was. “I know your side jobs do have a tendency to cross paths with our line of work sometimes.”

  “I got no reason to be way the fuck out here,” I said, rising my face back at him. “What do we got on Sokolov?”

  “He lives alone, no family. We got his address and phone number, apparently he’s not home.”

  “What’s his address?”

  “Like I said, he’s not home; we already tried to pay him a visit.”

  “I’d like to chat with him.”

  “For what?” My lips twisted to keep the truth from slipping out. Gabe caught on fast, like I said, he’s good. “Your face lit up when I dropped his name, what’s going on, Reika?”

  “One of my clients spoke of him, nothing more.”

  He kept his glare at me, searching for the slightest thing that would incriminate me via my body language. He wasn’t going to get any of it. “What did you get yourself into now?”

  “You sound concerned,” I snorted.

  “Sokolov pissed off the Russian mob, and so did whoever it was that fought here and then tried to flee, killing all the thugs in a car chase. If you know something speak up, I don’t care what kind of powers you got, don’t fuck with these guys, they will end you. And if they got demons in their ranks . . .”

  Demons . . . It got me thinking again about the one that possessed Leonid. His phone was making a call to Vladimir, a member of the mob, therefore he was affiliated with them. The ruthless Russian mafia with members possessed by demons in their ranks? Yeah, I probably was in over my head, if the fact they got the drop on me was any indication. The logical course of action would have been to come clean about everything and enlist the help of the police and the paranormal division to back me up. I was by no means a reliable expert at dodging bullets.

  But then there was my client, the search for her daughter, and the Jim factor, fuck. All it would take is one skilled detective to connect the dots and discover those I’m protecting, a detective like Gabe.

  It wasn’t worth the risk, not yet, at least.

  “I’ll be fine, Gabe, just the usual paranormal PI stuff.” Gabe frowned, sighing at my reply, whatever. “I’m powerful but not invincible when bullets are involved, the boys in blue can testify to that.”

  “All right then,” he said with a grimacing face.

  “So, what’s Sokolov’s address?”

  I came crawling back to my place of temporary residence, being the other safe house Jim had lent me and Emily. Returning home twelve hours or so later than planned brought back memories of my younger self, when I snuck out of the house to pa
rty, get drunk, high, and fuck the hottest stud I could find, only to wake up the next morning, in a bed that wasn’t mine in another part of town.

  My unexpected return had Emily’s face flinch as she was in the middle of some cross-legged meditation pose. She didn’t like the interruption, and I didn’t care. I needed answers before I pushed forward with my investigation.

  “How was your night?” she asked in a snarky manner.

  “Nearly died five times.”

  “I’d bet, it’s all over the news.”

  “Jim’s client, Vladimir, works for the Russian mob and tried to have us both whacked.” Emily’s face got all serious at that point, while her ears and tail straightened. “I’m going to take a stab at this and assume this Vladimir and the one you know are one in the same.”

  I gave her the best description of Vladimir I could, given the limited amount of time the two of us had to get to know each other. She got up from her mat on the floor taking a seat on the couch. My entrance and reveal must have really killed her desire to meditate.

  “Vladimir was a spetsnaz operative before he got involved with the mob,” Emily said, keeping her face away from mine. “He was also the last person to see my father.”

  My arms crossed, and my eyebrow rose. “Go on.”

  “My father got stuck in Russia after World War II broke out and spent the years after that moving from household to household, posing as a stray cat looking for a family. He ended up in the arms of a woman that ran a pawn shop. People took notice, as the years went on, that he was no normal cat, being a Cat Sith who didn’t age didn’t help.”

  “Meanwhile, the woman that owned him as a pet did.”

  “Yep, when she got old people started to think she was a witch, and he was her cat,” Emily sighed. “As you know, I enjoy taking previously owned things for my own use. The pawn shop that woman owned turned out to be a perfect place for me to dump all my previous-owned treasures, until I found a buyer for them. And with my father always being in the shop, he offered to look after it while I was gone. One day, I got lucky and broke into a mansion owned by a big-time mob boss.”

  “Vladimir’s?”

  “No, he was a small fry at the time, looking to impress the higher ups. And I gave him that chance when I got my hands on a few wares from that place and left them in the pawn shop. My father was asleep, so I never got a chance to tell him the new stuff I brought in was mine. And so, the woman found it and tried to sell it. Vladimir found out and heard rumors she was a witch and concluded she used her magic to steal it. He and his men moved in to deal with her. I’ll let you guess what happened next.”

  That explains the long face. She lost her father because of her actions, it was something I could relate to, losing someone you gave a shit about because of that one action you thought wasn’t going to be a big deal.

  I wasn’t sure if she was going to break out the waterworks, and quite frankly I’d rather she didn’t. I spent so much time with people that never cried I forgot how to comfort those that did. “Shit, that must have sucked.”

  “Oh wait,” Emily added. “There’s more.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “Vladimir got really interested in the demon world after that day. I know my father had something to do with it, which means he did survive the attack Vladimir and his thugs went to carry out.”

  “Vladimir discovers the demon world, and then suddenly years later, there’s demons working with the Russian mafia. Is that the real reason you came to America?”

  “There was a lot of demonic activity here, and way more wealthy people not watching their back pockets. I had to check it out for myself.”

  “Get dressed,” I said, going for my car keys. “I’m gonna need your help with something.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The golden dusk skies and clouds fell upon New York, turning the sweltering pre-summer heat into something more manageable. I cut the engine of my car as I pulled next to a two-story home not far from Ocean View Avenue. It was an old place, just like all the other homes in the community, sporting rust-covered A/C units, many of which hummed their groaning sounds into the air.

  Emily sat in the passenger side of my car and gave the houses surrounding us a scheming smile. She was probably sizing up what kind of valuables would be inside for her to steal, as she placed on a hat with holes cut into the top for her cat ears to slip through.

  “Let’s go,” I said, getting ready to leave. Emily, however, kept her eyes on one particular house with its lights out. “And no, you can’t rob them.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  “If you wanted to steal shit, then you should have come with me earlier. I had to remove evidence from that scene to make sure it didn’t link back to me or Jim.”

  “Crime scene evidence is useless to me, unless I can sell it.”

  Two car doors slamming shut signaled the start of our walk to the front door of Sokolov’s house. Emily licked her lips at the sight of the lock on his front door.

  “Can you get us in?” Dumb question to ask her, but I needed to fill the silence with something.

  Emily reached for a leather fanny pack, a storage place for her arsenal of thieves’ tools. She waded through the pack containing sharp picks, scissorlike objects, and lock-picking items. The items in her pack clanged together until she pulled out the ones needed for the job, sticking them into the lock, and giving it a quick wiggle. The door was pushed open seconds later. Emily had the keys to the whole fucking city in her fanny pack.

  “Does that answer your question?” she gloated as we entered.

  “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t to pay me.”

  Pocket-sized flashlights illuminated the path for us in the darkened house. As cool as it was to use a fistful of fire created by my talents, they had a tendency to burn down buildings in my experience. I already have Gabe and the paranormal team going nuts looking for a demon, which in reality was me. I don’t need to give them more evidence that I’m doing things behind their back.

  I heard Emily’s footsteps thump up the staircase as the glow from her flashlight faded, here’s hoping she stayed out of trouble. I continued to push deeper into the home. There were a number of missed phone calls on his landline phone cradled onto the wall, all from the last twelve hours. The environment inside this so-so house was muggy as the A/C had been switched off, most likely when he had left. Even the unit was cool to the touch. Gabe was right about one thing, Sokolov wasn’t here, and by the looks of things, he hadn’t been for a while.

  “Gross.” Emily’s voice from upstairs yelled.

  “What’s gross?” I called back.

  “Come see for yourself . . .”

  I made my way upstairs and followed the light from Emily’s flashlight into a bedroom. Emily stood with a disturbed cringing face and fluttering ears. Her flashlight bathed its white light upon a small garbage can next to Sokolov’s bed. I took a peek inside and regretted it. The garbage was full of used condoms and tissue paper. I could only imagine what the crusted substance on the paper was . . .

  “Ah fuck!” my voice roared, turning away from the garbage can. “You went digging through that didn’t you?”

  “One person’s junk, is another’s treasure.”

  “Well enjoy the treasures in there that came from his junk.”

  “I’ll pass . . .” Emily said, rushing off to the nearby washroom to wash her hands. “This man is boring and has nothing of value at all by the way.”

  I flashed my light onto the empty box of condoms on his nightstand. “The sex he must be having says otherwise.”

  “His wife must be boring too then,” Emily said amidst the sound of pouring water.

  “He doesn’t have one.”

  “Girlfriend then.”

  “Not that either.’

  “Boyfriend, husband, hookup partner whatever! Fuck, I don’t know!”

  The light from my flashlight searched a
round the room, unveiling what one would expect from a bedroom owned by a single man. “He was a loner with no family.”

  “And fucks daily,” Emily said, and returned to the room, wiping her hands clean with one of his towels.

  “Yeah . . .” I said, giving the room one last fleeting look. “How does a loner get lucky so often?” Meanwhile, I’m social, hot as fuck, not a loner, and nobody wants to fuck me. I don’t understand this!

  There was nothing else for us to go on. There were no signs he was a demon, affiliated with them, and he was clearly not part of the mob as he owed them protection money. Most importantly, there were and no signs of Belyana, it was a dead end within the darkened maze I found myself shifting through since I took this case.

  I went to make one final pass of the house to ensure I didn’t miss anything. Emily took it upon herself to stuff her bag with papers left lying on Sokolov’s desk. I had my flashlight shine on her thieving hands at work. “Pretty sure silverware is more valuable than that stuff,” I said to her.

  “Not so,” Emily said, lifting up one of the documents. “Bank statements, credit card invoices. Identity theft is good moolah.”

  “Just hurry up before the cops come back to see if he’s home again.”

  “Hey, like I said before, you don’t pay me to help. I got to earn my bread somehow.”

  A business card tumbled to the floor as a result of Emily’s hasty departure from the desk. It caught the attention of our two flashlights. “What’s this?”

  She swiped the card giving a quick glance to its front and back. “Strip club maybe, he does look like a lonely man.”

  The card was handed off to me. I stared down at the smooth and glossy material the card was made of. Black and neon-pink colors were dominant, amidst a collage of photos depicting women dressed in sexy lingerie and provocative outfits. The card was steamy enough to make any man blush and take interest in the company, a company called Russian Dolls.

  Sokolov, being the lonely man he was, probably paid a visit to said establishment, maybe even took some of the girls home with him. And now he’s gone, so is Belyana who was a hot little minx. I could imagine her living the secret life of a pole dancer wearing next to nothing, luring a man like Sokolov with her siren-like appeal.