[Charlie Rhodes 06.0] The Incubus Impasse

by Amanda M. Lee

  I craned my neck in an attempt to hear what they were saying, but they were too far away. It was possible they were having a friendly conversation about the weather ... but I knew that was wrong. When Brock looked like he was about to lead the woman away, I made up my mind and hopped to my feet. I had to stop this from happening.

  “Hey, Brock!” I yelled his name and vigorously waved my hand to get his attention.

  He narrowed his eyes when he glanced in my direction and I didn’t miss the look of absolute disgust that crossed his face. He was surprised to see me ... and less than happy.

  “I thought that was you.” I took two strides in his direction to let him know this wasn’t a drive-by “how are you” conversation. I had a purpose and I wouldn’t break from it. “I didn’t realize you spent time out here, what with working at the aquarium and everything. I would’ve thought you would live closer to your place of business. The traffic must be murder for you during rush hour.”

  I was babbling. That was a regular occurrence for me, though, so I went with it.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked finally.

  “Actually, I was hoping to talk to you.” That wasn’t true until he showed up out of the blue, but I didn’t want to give him the chance to escape. “I have a few questions.”

  He nodded, as if in acquiescence, took a large step toward me and then veered to his left ... hard. Before I could even register what was happening he’d broken into a run and was racing away from me. More importantly, he was running away from the blonde.

  She looked annoyed.. “What did you do?”

  I ignored her and remained rooted to my spot for a moment. Then, like a total idiot, I gave chase. It seemed the thing to do. When a murder suspect — okay, possible demon — runs from you, it’s necessary to give chase. Those are the rules.

  Yeah. Jack wasn’t going to buy it either.

  Eighteen

  I could run. It was a habit I got into in middle school when my father drilled me about what I should do if someone unsavory approached me. He often couched the lessons with, “Look out for random perverts on the street,” but I knew what he was really worried about. His fear was that someone would come looking for me, whether family or random evil doer. He was terrified of both and transferred that mindset to me.

  So I started running track in middle school, made the varsity team as a freshman, and continued running throughout college. I didn’t win any medals, but I could put on a good burst when I needed to ... and I clearly needed to today.

  Brock had the benefit of knowing the area, but I had magic. I used it now, illuminating a trail to follow. All I had to do was keep my head down and run — the magical footfalls would guide me.

  Brock didn’t make it far. He cut down an alley, and I could see clearly where the footsteps ended. There was a large dumpster in that exact spot and I knew he was crouching behind it. I remained rooted where I was, debating, and then I whipped out my phone. I didn’t want to be the idiot who got herself killed because she was chasing a lead and didn’t tell anyone.

  No way was that going to be me.

  Brock showed no signs of moving — he probably thought I was confused and would turn around and leave — so I put a little thought into my text. I typed it three times, erasing each version before landing on something that I hoped would keep Jack if not calm, at least together.

  I found Brock. He ran from me. He’s hiding behind a dumpster in the alley behind Rita’s. I’m waiting for you.

  It probably wasn’t my best literary effort, but it was better than my first try ... and the second. The third was arguably better, but it was a wall of text and I would’ve already taken down Brock by the time he’d finished reading it. At least this way he would be on his way before I beat the incubus to within an inch of his life.

  I sent the message and pocketed my phone, sucking in a calming breath before speaking. “I know you’re behind the dumpster.”

  He didn’t respond, but I didn’t miss the light shuffling of feet. He thought he’d outsmarted me. Obviously I wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

  “I texted Jack. He’s on his way.”

  That did it. I knew it would. I might not be a formidable opponent — at least on the surface — but Jack was all alpha jock and it was obvious he could take down a full-grown man without breaking a sweat.

  Brock poked his head out and glared at me, his distaste with the scenario evident. “Oh, hello.”

  “Seriously? Are you going to pretend that you were just hanging around behind that dumpster and I just happened to stumble across you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He squared his shoulders and adopted a haughty tone. “I’m walking for exercise.”

  “Behind a dumpster?”

  “I ... you ... I only came here because I was afraid for my life.”

  “You were afraid for your life?” This guy. Geez. “From who?”

  “You. You were chasing me like a madwoman, waving a gun around and threatening my life.”

  I glanced down at my empty hands. “What gun?”

  “That one over there.” He pointed toward a spot behind my shoulder and started running again in the opposite direction.

  I wasn’t stupid enough to look — I hadn’t fallen for that trick since I was seven, for crying out loud — and gave chase. This time he didn’t have as much of a lead on me as before and I caught him at the end of the alley. Without thinking, I heaved myself at him and tackled him hard to the pavement. He absorbed the bulk of the blow, letting loose an unearthly screech that reminded me of an angry fourteen-year-old girl and then started whimpering.

  “Get off me!” He tried to buck me off but I had him pinned with my weight. Jack had been teaching me self-defense moves for more than a month because he wanted to make sure I could take care of myself. He started before he learned the truth about me and then switched tactics when he realized I had magic at my disposal. It was the magic that came in handy now.

  “I don’t think so.” I charged my elbow with a powerful magical bomb and slammed it into his back, causing him to yelp as I pressed him harder into the pavement. All of the fight went out of him when I pinned him. “I feel like a professional wrestler.”

  I was feeling proud of myself ... right up until the moment Jack arrived.

  It took him only four minutes, which was fairly impressive. His hair was windblown, his eyes wild, his cheeks flushed with color, and there was mayhem etched across his handsome face. He pulled up short when he saw us ... and then took an involuntary step back.

  “What ... ?” He didn’t finish the sentence. There was no need.

  “I caught him.” I beamed at my boyfriend. “He tried to run and I tackled him. I used that elbow move you showed me and now he’s crying. It was awesome.”

  Jack worked his jaw, clearly struggling with a bit of inner turmoil. Finally, he strode forward and nudged me away with his hip as he grabbed Brock under the arms and flipped him over.

  It wasn’t a pretty sight. Brock’s cheek was marred from the pavement, his eyes wide and unfocused, and he was muttering something that I couldn’t quite make out. It sounded a lot like, “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “What did you do to him?” Jack asked finally, pushing his hair back from his eyes.

  “Just what you told me. I tackled him, and when he tried to dislodge me I put my elbow in his back and pile-drived him to the pavement.”

  Jack’s lips twitched and I realized he was trying not to laugh. “Did you do anything else to him?”

  “Nothing worth noting.” Even though Brock was clearly out of it I knew better than talking about magic in front of him. “I thought he would be harder to take down.”

  Jack was clearly thinking the same thing, because he nudged Brock’s foot with his shoe and then focused his full attention on me. “Can you do me a favor and buy a bottle of water and maybe get some napkins so we can clean him up?”

  “Sure.” I started to m
ove toward the street, but he stopped me by calling out.

  “By the way, baby, excellent job.” He flashed an enthusiastic thumbs-up, which caused the giddy feeling that had been washing over me earlier in the day to return.

  “It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?”

  “Definitely.”

  BY THE TIME I RETURNED, BROCK was sitting on a bench and glaring at Jack. He at least seemed somewhat aware of his surroundings, which was a bummer because I wanted to preen a bit longer for Jack’s benefit without an audience.

  Ah, well. I’d already had one heckuva day.

  “Here.” I handed the bottle of water and stack of napkins to Jack. “I stole the napkins because they said I had to buy food if I wanted them, but I’m not hungry.”

  “I should think not.” Jack cracked open the bottle and wet some of the napkins before moving closer to Brock, who had the good sense to cringe and turn away. “I’m not going to hurt you unless you make me.”

  “Oh, really?” Brock drawled. “That one tackled me like a rugby player on steroids. She’s a menace.” He jabbed his finger in my direction. “I’m going to report this assault to the police. You’re going to be locked up.”

  “You were the one running,” I reminded him.

  “Because you were chasing me!”

  “Nuh-uh.” Now it was my turn to wag a finger. “You knew I saw you preying on that woman and that’s why you ran. Admit it.”

  Brock shook his head. “Preying? You make me sound like a killer, which is why I ran. I knew what you were doing, hiding in the shadows like that. You were looking for someone to pin these murders on and you decided on me. That’s why you ended up on the same tour as me yesterday and that’s why you followed me today.”

  I planted my hands on my hips, incensed. “I have news for you, buddy, I wasn’t following you. I just happened to stumble upon you when you were hunting. Admit it.”

  “Whatever.”

  I adopted the expression my mother had used throughout my entire childhood to get me to fess up to a wrong even though I knew I would be punished in the aftermath. “Admit it.”

  Jack did a double-take and then quickly looked away. I had the distinct impression that he was trying not to laugh.

  Brock, thankfully, had the opposite reaction. He jutted out his lower lip and burst into tears.

  “Oh, man.” Jack made a face and lifted his eyes to the sky. “Why are you crying? Dude, you’re embarrassing all of us.”

  “She’s mean,” Brock complained, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. “I thought she was cool, energetic and fun when she was at the aquarium. I was even going to ask her out until I realized she was with you. She’s the sort of girl I dream about ... one who doesn’t spend all her time looking in the mirror and trying to tear down others.”

  I flashed a small smile. “Oh, that’s kind of nice.”

  His eyes darkened. “I’m starting to think the other type of woman is better.”

  “Whatever.” I flopped on the bench next to him, internally laughing at the way he cringed from me. He wasn’t exactly stalwart for a demon. I expected more. “Why did you switch up your hunting method? I would’ve thought for sure that the brunette with that group was more your speed.”

  “I wasn’t hunting. Stop saying that.”

  “Oh, come on.” I’d had enough of his denials. “You followed us yesterday because you wanted to know what we were doing, if we were close to catching you. Today you went hunting and I just happened to see you.

  “I mean ... I watched you,” I continued, warming to the topic. “Those women thought you were the dullest blade in the drawer. Then you fixated on the blonde. The rest tuned you out and rolled their eyes whenever they thought you weren’t looking, but all of a sudden the blonde was all warm for your form.

  “You’re a demon and I know it.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Just admit it.”

  Instead of owning up to his misdeeds, Brock’s mouth dropped open. “A demon? I’m a ... demon?” He flicked his eyes to Jack. “Is she crazy? Is that why you keep her so close? It’s because she’s crazy, right?”

  Jack looked hesitant to answer.

  “I’m not crazy,” I snapped. “You cast a spell on that woman today. I know it.”

  “I didn’t cast a spell. Although ... I guess I kind of did. It was with words, not magic. I mean ... magic isn’t real, you moron. It’s make-believe. What I did today was skill.”

  I was about to land the insult to end all insults when Jack raised his hand to still me. “What was skill?” he asked.

  “What I did with the woman. Her name was Jennifer, by the way, and she was totally hot for me. Do you want to know why? Because I lied about owning the aquarium.

  “Look, I know I don’t have game,” he continued. “I’m not ugly, but I’m not handsome like you. I can’t land women just by taking off my shirt and flexing. I have to use other means. That’s why I tell them I own the aquarium. I wait until they’re already bored with the conversation to slip that in.

  “Then, like magic, all of a sudden they’re interested in me,” he explained. “That’s when I mention I can get them in to feed the rays. Women go freaking crazy for the rays.”

  Uh-oh. A sense of dread pooled in the pit of my stomach. I was starting to suspect I’d made a grave mistake. “But ... what about the jail yesterday?” I wasn’t quite ready to let it go. “You were following us.”

  “No, I was there because it’s easy to pick up tourists on that particular tour. The type of women who want to see ghosts at the jail are the same ones who want to feed the rays. I know it sounds unlikely, but I get a lot of action because of this story. I mean ... we’re talking two to three women a week. They practically fall into my lap.”

  I looked to Jack and found him watching me with amused eyes. “I think I might’ve jumped the gun.”

  “I think so. Still ... you handled yourself well and nobody was hurt.”

  Brock gestured toward his face. “Nobody was hurt? Um ... hello!”

  “Nothing important was hurt,” Jack corrected, extending his hand for me. “As for you, Brock, go ahead and file a complaint with the police. When you do, Charlie will explain how the missing girls have gotten her worked up and she saw you acting oddly. The cops won’t do anything in that scenario.”

  “Really? What about when I mention the demons?”

  “What demons? I never heard mention of demons until you brought up the topic.”

  Brock’s lips curved down. “You guys are kind of jerks.”

  “You’re better off letting this go. Trust me.”

  JACK WAS QUIET FOR THE WALK back to the villa. I expected him to unload when we strode through the front door, but instead he returned to his computer.

  “If you’re going back to the beach, you should put some sunscreen on,” he noted. “Your cheeks are a little pink.”

  I was stunned. “That’s it? You’re not going to yell?”

  “Do you want me to yell?”

  “No, but usually you can’t seem to help yourself. I think it’s part of your genetic makeup.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m not going to yell because, in this particular case, I think you handled yourself well. I wish you had texted me earlier, but you took care of yourself and that’s the most important thing. I’m proud of you.”

  Well, that was just a kick in the keister. “Huh.” I threw myself in the chair at the edge of the room and watched as he went back to typing. “I can’t believe you’re just going to let it go like that.”

  “I like to think I’m growing.”

  “I guess so.” I watched him for a full two minutes before I spoke again. “Have you found anything?”

  “A few things actually.” His smile was firmly in place when he lifted his chin. “I’ve found three similar patterns, in Boston, Atlantic City and Virginia Beach.”

  I straightened. “Boston. How can that be? We would’ve heard about it.”

  “It was
months ago, right around the time you joined the team, and in a city the size of Boston things like that get swept aside relatively quickly. It’s not as big of a deal in a city with a denser population.”

  “But ... .” I ran the idea through my head. “Was that the order? Boston to Atlantic City to Virginia Beach?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, he’s moving south.”

  “Yes. They’re all coastal towns. I think the idea that our guy might work in the shipping industry is dead on.”

  “What about names?”

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet. It’s going to take a lot of time to cross-reference people who were in those cities at the time of the murders and who are now in Charleston. We’re not going to have change-of-address forms. This is a migratory individual.”

  “Right.” It seemed daunting to think about. “Are you going to run Brock?”

  “I am, but I’m guessing what he told us today is true. He’s not a murderer. He’s a tool.”

  “I’m not sorry I tackled him.” Truthfully, I was a little sorry. He was going to be sore for days. “He shouldn’t have run. Everybody knows that only the guilty run like that. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “Of course not.”

  I pinned him with a glare. “You’re laughing at me. Maybe not on the outside, but you’re laughing.”

  “I happen to think you’re adorable. What you did today ... it’s a great story. I would prefer you not do it with the actual incubus, though. I’m glad you got it out of your system.”

  “You’re still laughing.”

  “Only because you’re adorable.”

  “Go ahead and stick to your story.”

  “I plan to.”

  We lapsed into amiable silence and then something occurred to me. “What about the ghosts? You said there were similar murders, but are ghosts anchored in the water there?”