Dime a Demon

by Devon Monk

  “You are way too close to the situation to see it clearly.” I sighed.

  “Not true. I’m exactly close enough. Don’t you scowl at me,” she admonished, and there was my sister who had scolded me for being too serious and stubborn for most of my life.

  “Myra, do you like Bathin?”

  I scoffed.

  “Because he likes you,” she went on like a steamroller with a fresh tank of steam. “He asks about you all the time, wants me to share stories, tell him what you like, where you are. All the time.”

  “That’s none of his business!”

  “I agree. And that’s what I tell him. All. The. Time. But that doesn’t stop him. He likes you, Myra. And the longer he’s here, the more he’s falling for you.”

  “He’s not falling for me. He’s just interested in the one thing that he can’t have.”

  She rubbed at her eyes again. “I don’t think so. I’m connected to him. There are times when I can tell he’s thinking about you.”

  The blood hit my face hard enough to tingle. I knew I was blushing tomato red.

  She chortled. The jerk.

  “Not like that,” she said. “I can’t read his mind. I just…it’s like knowing someone is drawn to a warm fire, or a blue sky, or clear water. He’s drawn to you. Has been since he first showed up in town. And…” She held up her palm to stop me reiterating that when he first came to town it was because he’d just stolen her soul and used it as his very own key to break Ordinary’s lock.

  “It confuses the hell out of him,” she finished. “He’s not used to feeling things. Really feeling them.”

  “He only feels because he has your soul.”

  “Is that in the books?”

  “No.”

  She gave my hand a little pat. “I think having my soul helps with the whole feeling thing, actually. But he’s been feeling on his own. Trust me.”

  “I do trust you. I don’t trust him. Not while he’s holding you captive. You understand that, right?”

  “Yes. Now how about the truth? Do you like him?”

  “No.” Even as I said it, my stupid heart knew otherwise. I did like him. Maybe too much. I winced and looked away.

  “Just don’t forget you’re a part of this equation too, okay, Myra?”

  “My opinions?”

  “Your feelings.” She tipped her head down to catch my gaze. “You deserve to love someone too, you know.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Someone who challenges you mentally and keeps you on your toes emotionally. It might not be Bathin, as a matter of fact, maybe it shouldn’t be Bathin, but it should be someone. You deserve love. And no matter my circumstances or Ordinary’s or the job’s or anything else that you’re carrying like you’re the only Atlas in the whole danged universe, you deserve to have love. To be loved. Okay?”

  “Sure. Fine. Whatever.”

  She slapped my shoulder. “It’s more than ‘sure, fine.’ It’s yes. You deserve a yes. Also, how about: ‘thank you for reminding me that life isn’t all about work, big sister.’”

  “Do you want that on a cake?” I asked.

  “Yep. Red velvet, butter cream frosting.” She opened the door and stood.

  “I’m all outta frosting,” I muttered. But she heard me.

  “I’ll just keep reminding you until you give in and believe it. Or bring me a cake.”

  “I got it. I deserve love.”

  “Say it like you mean it, sister. ‘Cause even I can tell you don’t.” She crossed the yard to the path that wound around the back of the nice three-story house.

  “Would it kill you to let it go?” I asked.

  “Nope. But I’m not going to.”

  And that, right there, was what I was afraid of. But I didn’t say anything, because we’d had enough honesty for the day.

  Chapter 9

  “You call this an altar?” Raven asked.

  Frigg slugged him in the arm. Hard. She was a deity and could pack a wallop.

  “Didn’t ask your opinion,” she said. “And I never said it was an altar. That was Delaney.”

  He glanced over at Delaney and tipped his head. “How does this look like an altar?”

  Delaney pointed to the five huge fir trees that surrounded us. “When you look around us, all you see is trees. But when you look to the sky?”

  Raven did just that, and so did I. The tops of the trees carved a perfect five-point star out of the sunset sky, a whorl of orange and bubble-gum pink clouds swirling through the deepening blue.

  “Not bad,” Raven said.

  Frigg made a noise of agreement. “It’s old. And strong. It will hold the powers without the complication of them being in some small containment where they can be easily stolen. Like a water bottle.” She raised an eyebrow and gave Raven the stink eye of all stink eyes.

  Raven, well, Crow, had been stupid enough to leave the god powers he was supposed to be guarding in the old furnace of his glass-blowing studio. The powers had been stuffed in a water bottle and stolen.

  It had been the beginning of a lot of trouble that had ended with the gods all leaving Ordinary.

  He leered at her. “Like you didn’t have a good time. Someone had to shake things up around here.”

  “If you’re staying,” Delaney said, “you need to release your power to me, Raven. And through me to this place of safe holding.”

  I didn’t know why this was making me so nervous. Delaney had done this many times. She was made for it, chosen. But my stomach clenched when I thought about the family gift my sister possessed.

  She, for a brief amount of time, was a conduit, a string, a road upon which the entire power of a god would travel.

  She’d told me she didn’t see power as much as she heard it. Dad had always perceived the god powers visually.

  I did too, though my sight was not as keen as Dad’s or Delaney’s.

  Jean wasn’t here, which meant she hadn’t had any bad premonitions about Delaney being soulless while handling god power.

  “Settle down,” Raven said to me. “I know what I’m doing.” He could have made that mocking or light. Instead, he sounded exactly like my uncle. Sometimes when he was serious, no, always when he was serious, it settled me.

  “I know,” I said.

  Delaney made a face at me. “For real? C’mon, you know we have this covered. It’s not the first god power I’ve bridged since I gave away my soul. Unless you think someone else should be here?”

  “Like who?” I was sincerely curious.

  “A certain hunky demon.”

  “No! Why would I invite him to the secret place where all the secret god powers in town are being kept in secret?”

  “Well, he has my soul. Maybe you think I could do this better if I had it nearby.”

  I snorted. “He can probably find this place because he has your soul, you know.”

  “Nope,” Frigg said. “It’s demon blocked. Untouchable.”

  “You can do that?” I asked.

  She gave me a smile that was absolutely wicked. “Oh, sweet winter child. The things I can do.”

  “Hot,” Raven noted. “Also, I’m starting to itch. Can we get on with this, ladies, before I hive up because I’m in Ordinary trying to vacation but am still carrying my power?”

  Delaney shook out her hands. “Okay, bring it.”

  Raven laughed. “Things have gotten a little more casual since I’ve been gone, haven’t they?”

  She cleared her throat. “Raven, god of wings, black feather, trickster, storyteller, uncle, friend. Welcome to this place of rest. Welcome to Ordinary. To remain in this place, chosen by you, by power, by the stars, you must lay your power down.

  “Do you agree to give it to the care of the goddess Frigg for the year in which she will be guarding the powers of all gods who rest here on this shore?”

  “I agree,” he said happily.

  Delaney stepped over to stand right in front of him. They were in the exact center of the
clearing, the sunset sky shifting colors above them. Frigg stood behind Delaney and put her hand on Delaney’s shoulder, ready.

  “Then rest your power upon this gentle earth,” Delaney said.

  And yeah, there was something about that, those soft words that embodied everything that she did for the gods, everything all our family had always done, that choked me up a little.

  I was proud of us, who we were. I was proud of this town and all the people—whether mortal, supernatural, or deity—within it.

  Right there, that moment, I was so proud of her.

  “With great joy,” Raven said. He winked at Delaney, then wrapped his arms around her and brought her into a hug.

  The power transfer was different from god to god. Delaney had spent time talking about it, and I’d read all of Dad’s accounts, and all of his Dad’s, and those who had bridged before them.

  Sometimes the process was very hard and painful. Sometimes it was so easy and gentle as to be nothing more than a handshake and a nod.

  But this…this was something more. Because Raven—or Crow—was someone more to us. He had a bit of our hearts. And we, I liked to think, had a bit of his.

  There in the falling twilight, his power glowed gold and black, flashes of silver, green, blue, and white shot through it like lightning hopping summer-fragrant air.

  The glow surrounded him and flowed like slow honey to wrap Delaney. For a moment, several heartbeats, they were both surrounded by power. Then it drew away, almost reluctantly, from Raven until only Delaney was glowing.

  Crow released her from the hug, and she turned to Frigg and held out both her hands.

  Frigg took her hands, and the power drained away from Delaney.

  I expected Frigg to glow, but she didn’t change at all. It was her job to give the power a place to be kept safe and undisturbed. She didn’t actually have to touch the power at all.

  The ground at Delaney’s feet pulsed with gold and all the colors of sky and night and earth and water. That pulse rushed out like a neon stream and flowed up the tree trunks.

  Bark and limb glowed for a moment, briefly. I heard a sigh of voices singing, a song so old and sweet as to be impossible.

  Then the glowing power, the distant song, the sweet fragrance of warm summer wheat was gone.

  The dusk wind stirred the firs, a softer ocean song than the one that charged at our rocky shore.

  “Good?” Delaney asked Frigg.

  “Perfect. Almost like you’ve done this before.”

  They released their handclasp, and Crow sauntered over, kicking a couple pine cones like he’d forgotten what dirt felt like under his shoes.

  “Nice job, Delaney. Now let’s go get that beer and barbecue.”

  He patted her shoulder and walked out of the circle of trees. Frigg motioned for both of us to follow him, which we did, leaving her behind to secure the holding place.

  “You okay?” Delaney asked.

  “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. You’ve been acting a little weird lately. I thought maybe you didn’t believe I could do this anymore.”

  “Wait.” I caught her arm before she could walk any farther. “I don’t doubt you. I’ve never doubted you.”

  At her look, I amended, “Not when it comes to the job or your gift. You are the one and only. I know how good you are at this. It’s just…I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. We both know Bathin owning your soul isn’t a good thing. I keep thinking, maybe this will be the moment we find out what kind of consequences we’re going to have to pay for that deal.”

  “You could ease up on the worrying a little,” she said. “It’s making me jump at shadows. We both know if something really terrible is going to happen, Jean will give us advanced warning.”

  “I know,” I said. “Sorry.”

  She smiled. “It’s good. Let’s go wish Roy a fond farewell before the party winds down or somebody calls in a report of Mrs. Yates’s penguin being kidnapped again.”

  Since at least one of those things was a very real possibility, we got to the car and the party as quickly as possible.

  ~~~

  What had started as a going-away barbecue for Roy had turned into a town-wide, multiple-bonfire, food and drink thing.

  Everyone was down on the beach. Everyone.

  With weather this nice, I wasn’t surprised. But as the sun sank into the ocean and the stars popped in a sky clear enough we’d be peering at the Milky Way soon, even more people arrived, laying out blankets, lanterns, candles, and starting fires for their family and friends to gather around.

  It was one of those spontaneous, wonderful things that didn’t happen very often.

  I found a spot on a big rock up near the rise of the shoreline where I could keep an eye on the whole event. When the restaurants had realized where all their customers were headed, they’d brought out tables and awnings and food. All that delicious food was irresistible, and I’d filled my plate. Twice.

  I was full, relaxed—well, as much as cop instincts would allow—and the laughter, crackle of fire, hushing waves and outbreak of singing, eased away the stress of the day.

  Or maybe the stress of the year.

  First, it had been Dad’s death, then everything we’d had to deal with from murder to an ancient evil using our town for target practice.

  Delaney had been shot—twice. Jean got hit by a car. Bathin had taken Delaney’s soul.

  And Death had been playing a long game. He’d come to Ordinary to vacation and take out an evil he’d been trying to get his hands on for years.

  Things had calmed down for a bit while the deities were out of town, but today’s vortex was troubling.

  “Always in the shadows,” a voice said from behind me. “Brooding. I can appreciate that.”

  I hadn’t heard him come up behind me, though that wasn’t all that unusual. He was a vampire, after all.

  “Hey, Rossi. Decided to leave the mausoleum to be seen among the living?”

  He moved, and I could finally pick him out of the slabs of darkness impenetrable to my fire-blind eyes.

  He was tall, with craggy features that were handsome even with the black patch over his left eye. His salt-and-pepper hair was long, brushed back and wavy, his prominent nose had a hook that only made him more interesting to look at.

  “I heard there was a celebration.”

  “I think everyone’s heard there’s a celebration.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Sure you don’t want to buddy up with Delaney?”

  He unerringly found her in the crowd at the fireside, his one eye steady as a hawk in a dive, then looked back to me. “I prefer the sister in the quiet and shadows tonight.”

  I scooted over so he could sit. I watched him considering it, deciding if it was worth the effort to bend that far.

  Old Rossi had very nearly been killed. He’d been shot in the head with a bullet made of the grave dirt from his making. Delaney had taken the same bullet in her chest, but she had healed much, much quicker than he had.

  For the last decade or so as the owner of a yoga studio in town, he’d pulled off the easy-going-hippy vibe. He taught there, and was known for his grace and fluid movements, and Zen thoughts and comments.

  Not so, now.

  He closed the distance to the rock and eased himself down, holding one hand, long fingers spread out below him, to better gauge the distance to the rock. It was a slow, slightly shaky process before he finally made it down and sat.

  He wore soft, dark-gray clothing, layers of shirts with a large, thick-collar sweater that covered his long throat and rested just beneath his chin.

  From his clothing, which covered every inch of his skin except for his hands and his face, I knew he was not up to full power, not fully healed. I wondered how many years it would take until he was.

  “I haven’t seen much of you, Myra,” he said after he’d sat there a while, doing the vampire equivalent to catching his breath.
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  “That’s because you haven’t left your house. How are you?”

  “Progressing. Did you notice the vortex to Hell?”

  “Yes. You too?”

  He inclined his head, his gaze drifting to the faces in the crowd. I watched as the vampires, all a part of Rossi’s family, looked over to him as if they heard or felt him. Each acknowledged his presence in some way as he acknowledged theirs.

  They weren’t actually related by bloodlines, or at least not most of them. Rossi had a way of picking up lost vampires and bringing them into his fold. Since he also policed them and made sure they followed the rules of Ordinary or faced his wrath—which included killing them, if necessary—it all worked out for us too.

  Ordinary had become a bit of a sanctuary for vampires who worked regular jobs and otherwise lived their unlives as happily as any other person here.

  It didn’t surprise me to see a couple familiar vamps, Leon and Evan, break off from the celebration and make their way up to where we sat.

  They were coming to guard Rossi, to make sure he would be safe here among the people and supernaturals.

  Old Rossi, however, had other ideas. He lifted his hand, a small motion even I could tell was a dismissal, to wave them off.

  They hesitated, debating whether or not to follow his order.

  “Wow,” I said. “When did they get so dumb?”

  He let out a sound very like a weary sigh. “My health has instilled doubt. It is, at the very least, irritating.”

  “And at the very most?”

  “At the very most, someone will decide to challenge me.”

  I let that thought settle for a moment. “And how do you think that’s going to work out for them?”

  “Poorly.” His smile was all fang, and his entire body tightened with the readiness of a hunter who had been idle too long in a cave. A hungry predator.

  “You’re not supposed to enjoy confusing your family,” I said.

  “Oh? And you’re going to give me advice on how to hold this clan of vampires together? What sorts of books have you been reading lately that make you an expert, Myra? Perhaps something I know? Perhaps something I’ve written?”

  “Okay, fine, I get it. You’re old enough you don’t need my advice. Go ahead and ignore me. Everyone else does.”