Beg Me to Slay

by Lisa Kessler

  The dream was the same: it was Tegan’s face, but the scene was from his past—Laura, his parents. Only Tegan’s face was new, and the dream kept repeating..

  The same… That was it. It had to be either magic or a curse. Someone didn’t want him to sleep. They wanted him off his game, punchy.

  Shit. Why hadn’t it occurred to him before? Because I haven’t slept in days.

  If he could find Lago again, he might have a lead, but… He didn’t want to admit to Tegan that his snitch usually visited him a few times a week for a blood snack in trade for information. Maybe another demon discovered their arrangement. Without Lago’s rumors and intel, keeping Tegan safe just got monumentally tougher.

  He shut down the playlist and pressed the button to call his office.

  “Office of Gabriel V.H. Smith. Can I help you?” Hearing Martie’s no-nonsense voice helped settle the herd of butterflies swarming his gut.

  “Martie, it’s Gabe.”

  Her all-business persona faded a few notches. “Hey, Gabe. Where have you been? Didn’t you get my messages?”

  He frowned. “What messages?” He pulled his phone back and pressed the “voice mail” button. Nothing new. He put the phone back to his ear. “I don’t have any new voice mails.”

  She sighed. “I’ve been trying to find you since we last spoke. The office was robbed.”

  “What? That’s impossible. Demons can’t cross the wards I have up.”

  “You’re right.” He could hear her nail file in the background. “It wasn’t demons.”

  “Then who?” His pulse thrummed.

  “Police got fingerprints and caught the kid.”

  Gabe glanced at the stairs up to Tegan’s studio. “What’d he take?”

  “That’s why I was trying to find you.” The nail filing stopped and Martie’s voice softened. “He took your spare brush and the creased picture of Laura you kept in the top drawer of your desk, and…” He waited. Martie cleared her throat. “And the necklace.”

  “But it was in the wall safe.” Rage burned through his bloodstream. He took a slow breath. “You’re serious? He took Laura’s necklace?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, Gabe.”

  “Someone told him what to take.”

  Pity colored her voice. “Looks that way. Anything I can do?”

  “Stay safe. I’ve got wards on the office and your house. You should be fine there.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. How’s Tegan?”

  “She’s all right…for now.” He hung up and rubbed his hand down his face.

  The demons had the necklace he’d given Laura, the one he’d taken off of her lifeless body the night he found her. A piece of jewelry that contained crystals was like a storage unit for latent emotions. Wear it on happy occasions, and they were charged with joy. During a murder they contain all fear and terror.

  Combine the emotion-charged jewelry with the DNA in his hairbrush and the photo, and someone could concoct a nightmare charm that would see to it that he never slept again.

  “I’m fucked.” His voice sounded strained in the empty room. He needed to hold it together. Tegan’s life depended on him being stronger than the asshole hell-spawn who tormented him.

  …

  Gabe was having nightmares. Why hadn’t he told her before? What else was he keeping from her?

  She went to the sink and finished the dishes. Anything to keep busy. After she put the last glass in the cupboard, the front door opened.

  “Hey.” The deep timbre of Gabe’s voice warmed her in spite of the tension tying her up in knots.

  She turned to face him, folding the dish towel. “Hey.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to unload on you like that.”

  “You’re not the only one who’s scared.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m the slayer. I don’t do fear.”

  Tegan moved toward him, fighting the urge to poke him in the chest with her finger. “Welcome to being human. Fear doesn’t make you weak. It makes you alert. Big difference.”

  “Sounds great on paper, but I’m much better off when I’m not jumping at every shadow in the corner.” His hand caressed her cheek, his rough thumb brushing her skin. “I’m in too deep. This is personal now. I’m not thinking clearly where you’re concerned.”

  She covered his hand with hers, her eyes holding his gaze. “I’m not asking you to save me. I’m asking you to help me. Martial arts brings it home that you’re stronger with someone fighting at your back. Let me cover you. Whatever comes we’ll take it together.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but a scratching noise, like nails on a chalkboard, interrupted. Gabe jogged back down the stairs, Tegan following close behind.

  “Gabriel,” a voice breathed outside the door to the dojo.

  Gabe pulled open the door. Lago crumbled to the ground, beaten and bloody. Gabe didn’t hesitate; he scooped up the battered demon and brought him inside. Tegan scanned the area for any sign of other demons before closing the door and throwing the dead bolt.

  Lago lay on the matted floor of the dojo, air wheezing from his lips. “The dragon…” His eyes rolled in his head. “He needs her blood to unleash the dragon.”

  “Did you see him? Tell me who he is.” Gabe glanced her way.

  Tegan jogged to her supply closet and returned with a couple of towels. She knelt beside the portly demon, dabbing some of the green demon blood from his forehead. His wings were shredded and oozing beneath him.

  Lago coughed and winced. “Don’t know who. Hingo demon. Builds army. Never saw him.”

  The mention of the demon sent a chill down her spine. Gabe pressed his wrist to the demon’s lips. “Have some, Lago. Heal up.”

  The demon pressed his lips together shaking his head. Gabe frowned.

  “They smelled slayer blood in me.”

  Gabe’s brow furrowed. “Who did this to you?”

  “Eden Club. I listened at the Eden Club.” Lago’s breath gurgled out; his eyes drifted closed.

  “Is he dead?” Tegan whispered.

  Gabe rolled the body over and shook his head. “No. Whoever did this to him didn’t know how to kill a Trollock demon.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Sure it does. It’s self-defense.” Gabe laid one of the towels out flat on the floor. “I’ve researched old texts for years. It’s not like you can Google a list of ways to kill different demons, and they’re not out there sharing their secrets either. Demons understand how to kill their own kind, but not others.”

  He laid Lago on one end of the towel and then rolled him up in it like a demon taquito. “You’ve got to sever a Trollock’s wings to lift his immortality long enough to kill him.” He used the other towel to clean the mats. “They beat the crap out of him, but he’ll recover.”

  “How do you kill a Hingo demon?”

  “They’re tough to slay.” Gabe met her eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  Tegan almost laughed. Would anyone ever be ready to hear about killing a demon who wants to use him or her as a human suit?

  She shook her head, fighting off the hysteria. “I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to get.”

  Gabe nodded, resting his elbows on his knees. “Hingo demons are ageless, different from being immortal. You can kill them, but it’s tough. Under their human facade, they have thick, leathery skin, and puncture wounds only piss them off.”

  “Beheading?” Another bout of hysterical laughter threatened to bubble up her throat at the surreal chat about beheadings. She swallowed it, for now.

  “That’ll slow him down, but it won’t stop him. For a Hingo you need fire, but the oil in their skin is a natural fire retardant.”

  She stared at him for a second and frowned. “Only fire can kill him, but he’s impervious to it? That sounds pretty immortal to me.”

  “You have to open a wound first. Pierce his skin and then the fire can consume him, sending him back to
hell.”

  “Complicated. How many slayers died before you figured that out?”

  “I don’t ask those questions.” Gabe took her hand. His gaze wandered over her face. His concerned expression made her wonder if she looked as sick as she felt. “Are you all right?”

  Tegan shrugged. “Not really, but I’d rather have an idea what we’re up against.”

  Gabe picked up the limp demon, glancing over at her. “Do you mind if I put him in your closet upstairs?”

  “The closet?” She tried not to cringe.

  “He’s going to need a few days in the dark to recover from his wounds.”

  She nodded. “All right. I’ll clear out my shoes, and he can rest on the floor.”

  He brought Lago up, laying him on the kitchen table while Tegan cleared the floor of her closet. Gabe carried the demon over and laid him gently on the floor. Watching how careful he was with the creature touched her. Under the no-nonsense, loner facade, there was a guy who had compassion.

  Closing the closet door, Gabe sighed. “He went to the Eden Club.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Gabe walked back to the table and pulled out a chair. “That’s because it’s a demon club.”

  “Oh.” Tegan sat across from him trying to figure out how much prodding he could handle. Now that she understood that his fuse was shortened by the lack of sleep, she walked a tightrope. Tip too much either way and Gabe would shut down. “Do we need to pay them a visit?”

  “Yes.” He nodded and then shook his head. “No.” He rocked the chair back on two legs. “First we need to lift the hex on my dreams. I’m not sharp enough to face the number of demons who hang out in the club.”

  “Hex? You think someone’s giving you nightmares on purpose?” She frowned, trying to stay clear of Gabe’s short fuse. “Maybe we should try some sleeping pills or something. You’re not the first person who can’t sleep.”

  “Oh, that’d be a big help.” Gabe groaned and sat at the table. “A sleeping pill will just trap me with the nightmare, no escape.” He sat the chair down on all four legs again. “Can I use your computer?”

  “Yeah.” She went to the easy chair and waited for her laptop to boot up. “Fill me in. How can someone give you nightmares?”

  He sat on the arm of the easy chair, his scent surrounded her, and she pulled it deep into her lungs, grounding herself while the world around her seemed in constant flux.

  “I talked to Martie. My office was robbed. I have wards to keep demons out, but they hired some human kid to grab my comb, a picture of Laura, and the necklace she was wearing when they attacked her.”

  “You kept that in your office?” She typed in her password and waited for the desktop to come alive.

  “I had the necklace in a wall safe. I move a lot. People start noticing how beat up I am at night, and then I’m healed up the next day. Leads to questions.” His fingers slid through the back of her hair. “I thought it was safer in the office where I always have wards in place.”

  She passed him the laptop. “Why take those things?”

  “To work a hex on a person’s dreams, you need a piece of them and a piece of something that upsets them. I’m guessing the comb had hair in it, and Laura’s picture and necklace would have plenty of negative energy to generate nightmares.” His fingers flew across the keyboard while he spoke. “But demons can’t wield that kind of magic.”

  She frowned. “Then how are they managing it?”

  He turned the laptop around, showing her the website for a psychic shop. “They keep a witch in their pocket.”

  “I thought Wiccans had a ‘harm no one’ rule.”

  Gabe shook his head. “This one’s not Wiccan. She’s a white witch with a long family history of black magic.”

  Tegan frowned, silencing the zillion questions that came to mind. If demons were real, why not witches, right? Maybe werewolves and vampires were real, too. She cringed inwardly. This was enough for now. She didn’t want to know what else was out there in the world. Not today.

  “How can you tell all that from her website?” She stared at the white stucco building with a neon hand glowing in the window.

  “I don’t think she’s the witch the demons are using, but I know her, and she can probably help us find the spell-caster we need.”

  “Oh, I see.” Tegan stared at the website again with new interest. “She’s a friend of yours then?”

  He shrugged and closed the laptop. “Something like that.” He stood up. “Let me change, and we can get to her place before she closes.”

  She ground her teeth together, fighting a pang of…jealousy? She wasn’t sure. But she definitely wanted to know how Gabe knew the witch.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gabe drove through a Jack in the Box for some caffeine and then got back on the freeway. He hadn’t seen Tina in a couple of years. He’d met her while working a PI case in San Diego. A husband had hired him to check up on his wife. It had seemed she was pulling plenty of cash from the ATM each week with no receipts for the expenses.

  Since his client was an accountant with a passionate love for receipts, the lack of them had made him concerned enough to hire Gabe to look into it. He’d thought his wife might be hiding her money trail while seeing another man.

  He loathed the cheating spouse cases. Too often he had to deliver bad news, and the times he delivered good news, it still ended badly when the other party discovered they’d been followed.

  But bills had to be paid, and he took the cases when they walked through the door.

  The wife had actually been one of Tina’s clients. Too embarrassed to tell her husband she was seeing a psychic, she’d paid for each reading in cash. After an evening of snapping photos outside the psychic’s, he’d stopped in a coffee shop nearby. In walked Tina to introduce herself.

  “Hello. I’m the psychic whose client you’ve been taking pictures of,” she’d said.

  “Who says I was photographing your client and not you?”

  Tina had just raised her eyebrow. She was the real deal.

  “Did you call this woman and tell her we were coming?” Tegan’s voice yanked him back to reality. “This is a long way to drive to find out she’s closed.”

  “She never leaves her shop early.” He checked the time on his phone and set it back on the seat. “She’ll be there.”

  “Are you surprising her with our visit on purpose?”

  He glanced at Tegan. “It’s hard to surprise Tina. She used to tell me that she could feel when people were thinking about her. I’m pretty sure she knows I’m on my way.”

  Tegan settled back in her seat, staring out the window.

  He also went out with Tina a couple of times, but that was ancient history. No point in digging it up now.

  When he pulled into the tiny asphalt parking lot, loose bits of gravel popped against the Mustang’s undercarriage, making him wince. He forgot how much his car hated this lot.

  The neon palm glowed in the window. Tina was inside.

  He got out of the car and went around to open Tegan’s door, but she’d climbed out before he got there.

  “It’s just like the picture on the website.”

  He nodded and took her hand. “Come on. Let’s see what she can tell us.”

  A bell clanged when he opened the door. He followed Tegan into the dimly lit waiting area. The scent of sage and some kind of sandalwood incense assaulted his keen sense of smell.

  “I’ll be right out,” a voice called from the back reading room. “Please have a seat.”

  Tegan sat stiffly in a chair. He took the spot beside her and watched a candle burning in the center of the coffee table. The flame danced and flickered, enticing him closer. Gabe reached out, sliding his finger through the fire. Back and forth. Warmth and cold. Light and dark. Life and death.

  Tegan’s hand slid up his back, her touch pulling him out of the trance that threatened to devour him.

  “Are you okay?” Her v
oice was hushed.

  He wasn’t sure how to answer. Something was definitely…off. It was more than exhaustion. His mind was foggy…susceptible. Weak. “I’m fine.”

  He settled into the chair, withdrawing from the hypnotic flame. Far from fine.

  …

  Tegan tried to watch Gabe without watching him. As soon as they walked through the door, he’d seemed distant, universes away. Now, an elderly woman came down the hall toward them. She gave Tegan a polite smile but avoided direct eye contact before tottering out the door.

  Gabe rubbed his hands down his face and tipped his head. A vertebra snapped, but he didn’t look any more alert.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting. I—” Tina saw Gabe and her voice died away. “Gabriel?”

  Tegan tried not to hate the tall blonde on sight, but hearing her call Gabe by his full name tipped the scales. It didn’t help that she had flawless, tanned skin, or that her blue eyes lit up when Gabe stood, making Tegan want to punch her.

  She’d never been jealous in her entire life.

  So far it sucked.

  Tina crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you. How have you been?”

  At least Gabe didn’t hug her back. He cleared his throat and put a little space between them. “Not great, actually.”

  Tegan stuck her hand into the cloud of awkwardness. “Hi, I’m Tegan.”

  Tina almost flinched. Her fifty-megawatt smile dimmed, then returned in an instant, and she shook Tegan’s hand in a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Tegan.” Tina glanced at Gabe, then back to Tegan. “Did you hire Gabriel?”

  “I did…but…uh.” While her brain stuttered, Gabe finally came to life.

  “This isn’t a business thing.” His hand rested at the back of Tegan’s waist.

  “Oh.” Tina’s smile looked forced. “Well, what brings you here? Do you need a reading or something?”

  “I need to know if there’s another witch in town that could pull off a dream hex.”

  Tina glanced at the front door and then gestured to the hallway. “Why don’t you two come into the reading room? We’ll have more privacy.”

  Tegan followed them back to a candlelit room. Scents clustered together into something wistful, calming. Throw rugs detailing mythical beings covered the floor and the walls, deadening the sounds around them, and a thin trail of smoke snaked up toward the ceiling from an incense burner in the corner.