Demon Dance

by Brian Freyermuth

  I shook my head. “Not yet. Give them some space to get into a deep sleep. Besides, the rain’s lightened and the clouds are keeping the warmth in. What more could you ask out of Washington?”

  “Sunshine,” Thelma said with a chuckle.

  “You wouldn’t live here if you wanted that,” I said back.

  “No, but it doesn’t mean I can’t dream.”

  “How is the circle?” Adam asked.

  “Undisturbed,” I answered between mouthfuls. “As long as one of us doesn’t blunder into it, they should be safe.”

  “That’s good,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s all so strange.”

  “There is more to life than can be dreamed of in our philosophies,” I said to him. “I’m happy you’ve decided to accept it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Most people would rather deny the evidence of their own eyes. A woman once told the police she was attacked by bikers.”

  “She wasn’t?” Adam asked.

  “Not many ogres wear leather and ride a Harley.”

  He paused for a moment, his eye twitching. When he spoke, his voice was distant. “I’ve seen odd incidents over the years, but not like this.”

  “It’s rarer than you think. Trouble just seems to follow me around.” I sipped the coffee and shuddered at the bitter taste.

  “So you’ve fought other creatures similar to that demon?”

  I shrugged. “Never one that tough. Mostly pit demons, some imps, and an Effreet one time. He was a nasty piece of work, but nothing like our guy. It takes some serious mojo to summon a captain of Hell.”

  Adam looked worried. “Are we safe? You simply left that demon in the gallery.”

  “This isn’t like the movies. As long as someone doesn’t disturb our friend, he isn’t going anywhere. He’s probably coming up with all sorts of nasty revenge scenarios, but he’s stuck. With the place all locked up we should be OK.”

  “Should be?”

  I shrugged. “Beth’s brother worries me. He ran, and he probably won’t stop until he hits Vegas, but I don’t like unknowns. I hope he has enough sense to stay away from the circle.”

  “What if they send another one?”

  “We’re safe from that too, at least for tonight. Summoning a heavy hitter isn’t like buying a T-bone from the local grocery store. It’s more like saving up enough plutonium to nuke an entire herd of cattle. I don’t know how they’re pulling it off, but summoning these things usually means one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Lots of screaming.”

  “Why would anyone want to hurt Beth?” Adam asked, his voice trembling. “If this demon is as powerful as you say, why send him after a woman and her child?”

  I sipped my coffee and winced again at the bitterness. I debated telling him my theory, but I knew the consequences if I was wrong. I wanted to talk to Beth first. So I did the next best thing and gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’m not sure. I also don’t know why they sent the demon after me first. Too many questions and not enough answers.”

  “They were afraid you’d get involved?” Thelma asked.

  “Not likely. I’m retired, remember? And besides, no one knows I’m here.”

  “Your friend knew. The woman.”

  I could feel the defensive anger coming up and was about to protest. This was Cate she was talking about, after all, but then I thought about it. If Cate could find out, others could too. And if this person was as powerful as I thought, then he could’ve tried to level the playing field before going after Beth.

  “Either way, it’s not something we’ll figure out tonight. But there are a few mysteries I’d like to bring into the open.” I turned back to Adam. “With everyone here, you’re the only mystery, my friend. What’s your story?”

  His hands twitched. “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone has a story,” I told him. “Me? I used to be a detective down in Southern California. I came up to the peaceful Northwest to get away from all this, and yet here I am. I like to know who I’m working with, so what’s your tale?”

  Adam held my gaze for a moment before looking away into the night. The crags in his face grew deeper as his eyebrows drew together. When he spoke he kept his voice soft, as if he was afraid the night might hear him.

  “I do not know my story.”

  I waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. “What do you mean?” I finally prompted.

  Adam sighed. “Two years ago I awoke in a strange alley, the knowledge of who I was taken from my mind. I had no ID and nothing in my pockets to give me an inkling of the life I had lived before waking. What I did have was a bruise here,” he pointed to his right temple, “and my eye would not open. I panicked and stumbled into the nearest place I could find.”

  “The Arms of St. Padre Pio,” I finished for him.

  He nodded. “I was half crazy from the pain, and Beth took care of me, but it was more than a mere head trauma. Shakes and nausea tormented me. Beth knew that I had no identity and no insurance, so she didn’t call the hospital. Instead she took care of me during the worst two days of my life. At least, the worst days of my new life.”

  “What was wrong?” I asked.

  “Withdrawal,” Thelma answered for him. I glanced at her and saw her eyes hooded in shadows. “Am I right?”

  Adam nodded. “I never did find out what drugs I had in my system. I simply knew how bad it was. Beth brought me back and gave me a home.”

  “But you never told her how you feel about her?” I asked.

  He turned his head and stared angrily at me, but he must have seen something in my face that softened his defensive response. His anger died and he looked away once more. “No. She has a life and a child, and I am nothing but a shadow. I can feel the past like a tiger lurking in the bushes. My past needs to stay buried, so I cannot give her what she needs. I cannot give her a life.”

  As he spoke, a small spark of anger ignited in my chest. I don’t know if it was my injuries or all the memories that I had thought buried, but something snapped.

  “It seems to me,” I said, my voice a little too harsh, “that you’ve decided for her. You’ve made up this whole white knight vision of how you’re protecting her, treating her with respect, blah blah blah. And it’s all bull. You’re scared. Scared of what she’ll say, scared of how she sees you. You can’t deal with her answers, either good or bad.”

  He glared at me. “You do not know me…”

  “Oh, I know you,” I said. “I am you. You’re afraid of other people, so you stay in your little shell and think about how you’re protecting the woman you love. I did that once, and it cost me everything.

  “We could all die tomorrow and you’re deciding what would make Beth happy? I’ve seen how she looks at you, man, and yet you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself. Sound about right?”

  Adam’s face had settled into a stone mask. He stood up without another word and stalked into the house. He didn’t slam the door, didn’t yell. He left nothing but silence behind.

  “You’re not a people person, are you?” Thelma asked.

  “Hearing him talk…it hit too close to home.”

  “Your friend’s death wasn’t your fault.”

  “I’m not just talking about Cate.”

  She put a hand on my arm. “Then who?”

  I was tempted to give her a wisecrack or a quip. Thelma would smile and the wall would stay intact. Everything would stay as it was. I would be doing exactly what Adam was doing. Hiding in my little shell.

  That sure was a mammoth high horse I found myself riding.

  I looked away from her. Picking up one of the croquet balls, I turned it over in my hands. I stared at the red wooden ball and my thoughts went back. “I told you about the accident with Ann, after that crazy incident in Boston. Well, ‘crazy’ is too light a word. We’re talking bad enough that the Watchers had to spend a few days cleaning up the mess I made.” I smiled without humor. “Pissed
them off good, too. But the reason why it went so bad was because I tried to protect her.”

  “Ann?”

  I nodded. “A good friend of hers from high school was deep in a relationship with a man by the name of Peter Carpathian, who had some pretty nasty ties to the underworld.

  “She wanted out. I was the one who got the message, and like an idiot I thought I could protect Ann from it. I knew she would head off to Boston on the first flight, and I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t lose her, and the more I did research on this Carpathian guy, the more he scared me.

  “So I told Ann that a client wanted to meet with me on the East Coast and that I’d be back in a few days. I lied to her for the first and only time in our whole relationship.” I turned the croquet ball in my hands, trying to press the memories down into the cracks in the wood.

  “I was protecting her. At least that’s what I told myself. I patted myself on the back and flew off without her, with every intention of getting her friend out of Boston and back before the week was over.” I closed my eyes and clutched the croquet ball with hands that felt like ice.

  “I didn’t even consider that the friend would call back. And that Ann would answer and do exactly what I thought she would. Things pretty much went south from there.”

  “It doesn’t sound like your fault,” Thelma said softly.

  “It was. Ann and I were a team. I could’ve prepared her. I could’ve gone with her, instead of making the decision for her. I could’ve treated her with respect. Instead she went alone, and Carpathian kidnapped her.” I shook my head.

  “Oh Nick.”

  “I managed to get her out, but I never knew what happened to her out there. She wasn’t the same after Boston. The night of the accident she couldn’t sleep, so we went to a midnight showing at a local theater. You know the rest.”

  “Nick‒”

  I interrupted her. “Somehow I keep thinking that if Boston had gone better, we would’ve been asleep that night. That instead of lying with her broken in my arms, I could’ve been holding her while she slept.” Bitter tears came to my eyes. I stared down at the wooden ball in my hands.

  “Nick, stop.” Thelma leaned forward and put a hand on my arm. “We all have things we regret. Things we did wrong. But what happened that night was not your fault. The driver was drunk, right? You could’ve been driving home from a gas station and the same thing could’ve happened. It was her time.”

  “It doesn’t make the blame any less,” I said bitterly. “I have all these gifts, and in the end they’re worthless. They couldn’t save Ann, and they won’t be enough to save Beth and Amanda.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “You saw what that thing did to me today. You were right before. I’ve been lucky, but how long will it last? Cate was lucky too, until her luck dried up.

  “The ones trying to kill Beth aren’t amateurs. To call up a captain of Hell and a Native American demon all in one day…it’s Boston all over again. My failures will get us all killed.”

  “But you’re not failing,” Thelma said, her hand still on my arm. “They’re still alive because of you. Call it luck, call it whatever you want, but they’re still alive because of you.”

  I smiled thinly. “I just hope it stays that way.”

  “Hey, Jake’s on his way over. You have help this time. This isn’t Boston.”

  I patted her hand and put the croquet ball down on the table. The cheerful red paint mocked me. “I know. We’re the three Ghostbusters, except the marshmallow man’s from Hell.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Thelma laughed.

  I sighed and glanced at the glass doors leading into the house. “You think I should apologize?”

  She shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt. We all need to trust each other if we’re going to make it.”

  “Yeah,” I said softly, “I thought I had left all this bad mojo behind in my old life.” I sighed. “I’m sorry I got you into this one.”

  “If I wasn’t here I’d be sitting in an empty coffee shop, doing my taxes and worrying about paying rent.”

  “At least taxes won’t get you killed.”

  “You’ve never run a business in Seattle, have you?”

  I smiled at that and stood up. My body felt old. Hell, my spirit felt old. The whole reason I came up here was to get away from the screaming and the bloodshed, and here I was with stains up to my elbows. This wasn’t as bad as Boston, but the night was young. I shook my head to clear the dark clouds and headed toward the glass doors leading into the house.

  At the doors I stopped. A dark television sat in shadows, and the books were nestled in their resting spots. The dim lights showed a scene as normal as when I had walked out onto the porch.

  It was normal, except for the man inside the living room. A dark SWAT helmet obscured his face, while various belts and pouches hung from black fatigues. The moment lay suspended; me with my hand on the door handle and the man crouched by the bookcase.

  Just me, the soldier, and his combat shotgun as it swung up and leveled at my chest.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Instinct saved me again. I spun away from the glass, grabbing Thelma in the process. I slammed both of us against the outer wall of the house as the world erupted into chaos. Thunder shattered the door, and I turned my face away as shards flew in deadly arcs. Thelma yelled out and buried her face in the crook of my neck.

  Adrenaline flooded my veins and all the pain disappeared. After a moment of silence, I gently pushed Thelma away from the door and ducked my head around the frame. Two more soldiers, both dressed in the same dark fatigues as the first, hurried from the bedroom. They carried two unconscious forms, one small and one big. I caught a glimpse of golden hair before the third man opened up the shotgun again. I slammed back, and the pellets slashed across my cheek.

  Blood washed over my chin and I regained my bearings. The man inside wouldn’t come out through such a small opening. They would come from elsewhere. I needed a weapon.

  I didn’t have to wait long. I heard a man approaching from around the side of the house before the tip of his gun poked out from the shadows. Using the only weapon within reach, I picked up the innocent-looking croquet ball and used all of my enhanced strength to pitch it at the soldier as he crept around the side. The ball actually made a whistling sound before it took him directly in the helmet, with a crack like a tree being split open. He flew against the fence, his helmet shattered, and he slumped to the dirt. He didn’t get up.

  I didn’t wait to see if anyone followed. Thelma stood stunned, so I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the opposite side of the yard. Logic told me the soldiers, or whatever the hell they were, had come in through a gate, and logic also told me that most people didn’t need two gates into their yard.

  It sounds strange, but I thanked whatever gods were listening when I rounded the corner of the house and saw the dead end. I pulled Thelma around the side just as the rattling of gunfire shattered the night. Bullets pockmarked the fence where we were standing. In the distance, the putt-putt-putt sound of a helicopter added to the chaos.

  Damn it all. Was Beth’s last name Bin Laden?

  “What?” Thelma yelled. I realized I had spoken out loud.

  I also realized there was silence from the backyard. The attackers were obviously being cautious, not surprising considering what I had done to their teammate. I shuddered at the thought of the dead man back there, but then remembered that they had Beth and Amanda. And they wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in my head.

  “They have Beth,” I told her. “I need to go back.”

  “Like hell you do!” Thelma yelled. She grabbed me as I started to head back. “Hold on.”

  She moved forward, which blocked me from getting past her in the small space. It also gave her enough room to give the fence a vicious straight kick. The wood was as old as the house, which was good because she could’ve broken her foot otherwise. Instead the board snapped. She grabbed the wood
on either side of the opening.

  “Help me!” she yelled.

  The rhythmic thumping of the helicopter closed in on us. I shook my head at Thelma and tried to move past her. In desperation she grabbed me again.

  I snarled, and her dark skin paled, but she didn’t let go. “You can’t help them,” she said softly. “You can’t help them if you’re dead.”

  “I don't care.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  I closed my eyes. I concentrated and heard the soft whisper of cloth from the backyard. They weren’t moving in yet, but I could make out dozens of soldiers. I couldn’t tell how many, but it was more than I could handle. Plus I’d be leaving a whole lot of dead bodies behind. Images of Boston came to me.

  Damn, I hate logic.

  It took a few seconds to rip open a hole in the fence that was big enough for Thelma and me. It was fortuitous timing as well, because the helicopter came to rest above the house and drenched the yard in stark white light. The light spurred the soldiers forward.

  I heard them coming as Thelma and I ducked into the neighbor’s yard. Lights burned in the neighbor’s house, but no one came yelling, which meant this operation was a lot more organized than I had hoped.

  I waved Thelma past and waited by the hole in the fence. A thick canopy of evergreens lined the outer edge. The helicopter swept the spotlight back and forth, but only a few shafts penetrated the thick cover.

  The tip of a gun poked through the hole in the fence. I didn’t give the soldier enough time to follow. Most soldiers and policemen hold their guns firm because they can’t afford to let the weapon fall from their hands.

  I was counting on it. I struck unexpectedly, grabbing the barrel of the gun and viciously jerking it through the hole. With my strength in overdrive I almost put the man’s head through the fence. There was a loud crack and the gun came loose in my hands.

  I held onto the rifle and hoped I wouldn’t have to use it. The breath rattled in my lungs when I turned to Thelma. I couldn’t see her eyes, but she backed up a step. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the soldiers or because of the look on my face. Without a further thought, I grabbed her arm again and crouched low.