by Jayne Faith
I mentally bore down, trying to shove Zarella aside. The shadows closed in, and for a moment it seemed as if the reaper and I were finally pushing in tandem against the madman. I was so focused on my internal battle I became almost completely unaware of anything happening around me.
But then there was a screech, a loud crash, and the tinkle of falling glass. I jerked in surprise. I glanced up just in time to see the gargoyle circling overhead and a large pane smashed out. It must have flown into the window at Zarella.
The distraction was enough to break his hold on my mind. The shadows receded to the edges of my vision and my head cleared. I sped across the room, snatched the demon trap, and wheeled around. But the demon was faster. It was already diving for Nathan.
“No!” I yelled. I pumped my arms, racing toward him.
He was still in an unmoving heap where I’d left him. I stopped and sucked up some earth magic and hurled a malformed wad of it at the demon. It burst weakly against one leathery wing, and the demon twisted its head to look at me but then turned back to its prey. It reared back, and I recognized the beginning of a possession dive. I reached for my magic again, but I was too drained to pull any more.
Beyond Nathan’s crumpled form, Damien was still holding his ward around the others.
Stumbling forward, I stretched out the can, irrationally hoping I could somehow intercept the demon as it plunged. I flung myself forward like a shortstop diving for a hard hit in the gap, knowing even as I did it that I wasn’t going to get there in time.
The next few seconds stretched out, happening in exquisitely painful slow motion. With a flash of multicolored magic, Damien shifted his ward to Nathan. Lynnette stirred just as I hit the floor with a grunt. She blinked and then looked up at the demon. She raised her hand and sent a small burst of fire magic from her palm. It hit the demon in the face and stopped its dive but didn’t do any real damage. She clenched her fists, trying to recharge, but I could see she was still too weak from the exorcism. But it was enough.
I scrambled forward on all fours under the demon, turned, and rose to one knee. The creature began its dive, opening it beaky mouth wide in a hellish scream. I pulled my arm back and threw the trap at its yawning maw.
Throwing the can was a last-ditch tactic, and maybe not the brightest thing to do, but the can hit its target. The demon let out a surprised squeal, and then it seemed to turn in on itself, morphing and shrinking as it appeared to get sucked into the vortex of its own mouth. There was a pop and a flash, and then the can fell to the floor with a solid thunk.
I pushed to my feet and pulled the lid from my pocket as I went to retrieve the smoking trap. I snapped the cap on. I gripped the can in my fist, coughing on the trap vapors. When I looked up through watering eyes searching for Zarella, he was no longer there.
My attention swung over to the gargoyle, which once again sat serenely in the corner. Then I swiveled around, giving the other a glance as I bent to check Nathan, who was right where I’d left him and still breathing. I lifted one of his limp hands and felt the weak tap of his pulse in his wrist.
Damien had released his magic and fallen to one knee, taking some deep breaths. Lynnette was trying to stand on shaky legs, and Johnny sprang to her side to help her up. Behind them near the wall, Mishti sat huddled in a ball with her face tucked against her knees. I started to turn back to Nathan when I caught sight of Jacob. He stood watching through the window in the door.
On a wave of anger and new adrenaline, I strode to the door, staring straight into my uncle’s eyes. Dr. Smith was behind him in the hallway, pressed up against the opposite wall. A breeze of magic whirled through the room as Lynnette removed her ward. I tried the handle, but someone had locked it from the outside.
“Let us out of here now, or I’m gonna get the gargoyle to bust us out!” I hollered, banging on the door with my fist. I didn’t know if Jacob or his researcher could hear me, but I was sure they got the gist of my demand.
He opened the door. I strode out and got in Jacob’s face, stretching to my full height. The armed guys surrounded me but didn’t approach.
“There’s an ambulance outside the front gate,” I said. “Let the medics up here immediately.” I held up the demon trap, and just then the creature knocked around against the inner walls. “You have to the count of three, or I’ll shove you in that room, uncork this can, and toss it in there with you.”
It wasn’t possible to free a demon from a trap, not with my bare hands anyway, but my threat worked. He flipped his fingers at Dr. Smith, giving her a silent signal, and she reached into her lab coat pocket and produced a phone. With wide, dazed eyes, she made a quick call.
“Were you just going to stand there while we were trapped with an arch-demon? Or were you waiting for Zarella to carry out his little cage match fantasy?” I hissed at Jacob.
Red splotches bloomed on his cheeks and anger shone in his eyes. “You created that danger for yourself, Ella. You had no right to do what you did. This was to be an inspection, not an exorcism.”
His breath was coming fast, and the truth hit me like a punch. All he cared about was his live demon trap. He was furious that I’d screwed up his experiment. I stared at him for a moment as it sank in.
“You’re a monster,” I spat and wheeled away to go to Nathan.
He was a mess—he looked like he’d been sweating nonstop the entire time he’d been trapped, and he smelled like it too. But he was breathing. He was alive. I gently rolled him over to his back. He let out a soft groan, but didn’t open his eyes.
A moment later a stretcher arrived, and the medics quickly loaded him up.
A contingent of half a dozen armed guards escorted all of us to the elevator, down, and out of the building. The ambulance was waiting right outside. Johnny and I had each taken one of Lynnette’s arms to help her walk. Damien trailed behind us with still-stricken Mishti. His face was drawn and pale, and at first I thought it was due to magical exhaustion. But I sensed it was something more than that—he seemed agitated, maybe even a little angry. But there was no opportunity to ask him about it. We all got back on the golf cart, and a few minutes later we’d retrieved our belongings from the lockers and found ourselves deposited at the front gate.
We walked through, back out to freedom.
Chapter 23
THAT NIGHT AS dusk fell, I pulled the front door open to find Johnny standing on my porch.
He had his arms pulled behind his back, and he wore a faint grin.
“I’m surprised to see you,” I said.
He brought his hands out, and he held a bottle of wine in one and a bouquet of wildflowers in the other.
“You deserve a celebration,” he said. “I’m here to help you celebrate.”
I narrowed my eyes, hesitating and remembering what Deb had said about him. About how my refusal to play into his little advances was a challenge to his inner Don Juan.
Ah, what the hell. I did deserve a celebration.
I nudged my head to one side by way of invitation, and as he slipped by me, I inhaled a nose-full of leather, aftershave, and something else that was deliciously male.
“Quiet,” he remarked, looking around. He handed me the flowers, and Loki came up to nudge his free hand. Johnny scratched the hellhound-doodle behind the ear.
I closed the door and took the flowers into the kitchen.
“Yeah,” I said over my shoulder. “Roxanne is spending the night with Nathan in the hospital.”
“What about Deb?”
I hadn’t realized Johnny had caught on to the fact that Deb had stayed with me for a couple of nights. “She’s back home.”
She’d realized she shouldn’t avoid Keith any longer, and regardless of what she decided to do long-term, she was going to have to talk to him at some point.
I found a wine bottle opener in a drawer and pulled two of my three wine glasses from a cupboard. I had no idea why I only owned three, but I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d used them. An
d the last time a man brought me flowers—the only time that I could recall—was back in Demon Patrol training. Brady had done or said something stupid and brought flowers to apologize. Apology flowers kind of sucked. Regardless of Johnny’s underlying intentions, the flowers were a nice gesture.
I rummaged around in the cabinets but couldn’t come up with a proper vase, so I filled a water glass halfway and stuck the bouquet into the glass. With the bottle opener shoved in my pocket, the wine glasses clutched between the fingers of one hand, and the makeshift vase in the other, I returned to the living room.
Johnny had taken off his jacket, and he sat forward on the edge of the sofa. I caught his face in profile for a moment before he saw me. There was a faint smile on his lips that widened when I came into his view. I set the glasses down and handed him the opener. He uncorked the bottle while I centered the flowers on the coffee table.
“This was awfully nice of you,” I said, sitting down on the sofa and curling my legs under me.
Johnny filled the two glasses with generous pours of white wine and handed me one of them. He held his up. “To a big win for the good guys.”
We clinked, and I took a long sip. I wasn’t usually a wine drinker, but I could tell it wasn’t a bargain bottle—a pinot grigio, according to the label—smooth, with the perfect balance of sweet and dry.
“How’s Nathan doing?” Johnny asked.
All of us—Damien, Johnny, Deb, Raf, Lynnette, and I—had stayed at the hospital for several hours with Roxanne until her brother regained consciousness and the doctors declared he was out of danger. They were keeping him overnight for observation and treatment for mild dehydration. I couldn’t fathom how he was trapped in that gargoyle for days without suffering much worse effects, but then I didn’t completely understand how a giant demon could fit into a trap the size of a soup can, either. Supernatural phenomena had their own set of rules.
“Roxanne texted an hour ago and said he ate some toast, which the doctors seemed pleased about. He should be able to go home tomorrow.”
“That’s great to hear. What about Raf?”
I grimaced. Raf hadn’t known that I’d basically planned to use our humanitarian entry into Gregori as a cover to free Nathan. He had pulled me aside while we were at the hospital, and our discussion had become heated.
“He’s got some explaining to do with GSHO, because we used their authority to get into the Gregori campus,” I said. I was being loose with the word “we”—I was the one who’d broken the rules. “But the Human Protection organization was actually thrilled that we came out with Nathan. So . . .”
I held out my hands and lifted each palm in turn, in a weigh-this-against-that motion.
“Is he pissed at you?” Johnny asked.
“Yeah, but it looks like the whole thing is going to generate so much more attention than he’d expected, I’m pretty sure he’ll get over it.”
I went silent for a moment, feeling my brows draw together as I recalled how withdrawn Damien had been at the hospital. I’d tried to ask him what was wrong, but he’d just muttered something about how he should have kept a low profile, and he brushed off my further attempts at getting him to explain his mood.
Johnny looked down for a moment and gave his head a slight shake. “Kind of hard to believe all that’s happened in the past few days.”
I thought back to when I’d entered Roxanne’s apartment and she’d shown me the gargoyle, and how my first instinct was to call Johnny. He’d shown up, known who to call, and he’d stuck with us every step of the way through the entire ordeal. He was a playboy, sure, but he had a good heart.
And damn, he was easy on the eyes.
He angled his body toward me, and I could feel the increased intensity of his focus.
“I’ve wanted to sit here with you like this since the first time we met,” he said.
My first instinct was to laugh at what had to be a line, but instead my heart bumped. There was sincerity behind his words, even if they were a little cheesy.
I cocked my head, narrowing my eyes and giving him a considering look. “That was, what, two years ago? By my estimation you haven’t been too lonely since then.”
He dipped his chin, a tiny acknowledgement. “Yes and no.”
“It’s just because I resisted your charms and you like the pursuit,” I said.
“Oh, so you do find me charming?” He gave a low chuckle, but then shook his head. “It’s more than that. You’ve got an edge, a rawness, that’s rare. Lots of people try to come off as edgy, but you’re the real thing.”
It was my turn to laugh. “If you want edge, you should go after Lynnette. Unless, of course, you’ve already made that conquest.”
He’d moved closer, his arm across the back of the sofa and lightly touching my shoulder blade. He set his wine glass down and then turned to me, his dark eyes drilling into mine.
“I’m not interested in Lynnette,” he said.
He was leaning in, and he was close enough for me to feel the faint heat of his skin and the gentle current of his breaths.
For a moment I wavered. It would be so easy to give in, to enjoy a couple of hours of company in my now too-quiet house. But my mind jumped ahead to the emptiness I’d feel after Johnny made his exit.
I reached up and patted his cheek. “I don’t kiss on the first date.”
He sat back a little and gave me a bemused arch of his brow. “This is a date?”
“No, this is wine on the couch,” I said. “A date would require us to, you know, actually leave the house.”
“Ah, true.” He bit his bottom lip and nodded once, then cocked his head, regarding me silently for a moment or two.
Just then, a fit of barking emanated from the kitchen. I set down my glass and jumped up. Loki had his front paws up on the back door, and he was looking through the window out into the yard. He gave a couple of high-pitched whines and scrabbled his nails against the wood.
“Whoa, Loki. Let’s not nullify my security deposit,” I said. I reached for the knob and let him out, thinking he needed to chase a squirrel out of the yard.
I watched him bound outside. It wasn’t a squirrel that caught his attention. He stood a couple of feet away from the gargoyle, bouncing back and forth and letting out little yips.
The gargoyle swiped a stony paw out at him and he jumped back and then resumed his yipping. Fed up, the gargoyle yowled and then transformed into statue form and went still. Loki fell quiet, cocked his head, and then went up to sniff it.
I gaped. “How the hell did it find me here? How did it get away from Gregori?”
Johnny made a noise of surprise behind me.
“Looks like you’ve attracted another stray,” he said. We watched the gargoyle for a few seconds, but it remained in its rigid form. “She seems pretty comfortable out there.”
I turned to him. “She?”
He nodded. “I captured some more data while we were at Gregori, and ran through it this afternoon. Definitely a she.”
I shook my head, snorting a laugh. “A hellhound-doodle and a gargoyle. What’s next, a tribe of pixies? A flock of fairies?”
I left the door cracked so Loki could come back in when he was ready. Johnny and I went back to the sofa and our wine, and I found the heat between us had mellowed a bit, which was fine by me. Enjoying another glass of wine, we chatted for a while about what had happened at Gregori Industries, and then he left.
A few minutes later my phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was Johnny.
Are you free for dinner on Friday?
A smile twitched at my lips. Yes. Pick me up at 7.
I locked up and turned off all the lights except for one table lamp and sat cross-legged on the sofa with Loki lounging on his side next to me. Stilling my thoughts, I turned my attention inward and searched out the other. The grave chill filled my core much more quickly this time, as if the reaper had been waiting for me to reach out to it. My head thumped and the shadows crowded in, sendi
ng smoky tendrils across my vision.
I unfocused my eyes, allowing myself to sink into the awareness of the soul of the reaper within me. I could feel it curling around in my mind, vying for control, but not powerful enough to take it while I was fully conscious.
Silently, I began to speak to it. I pictured the ghost house and felt the reaper take notice as the thumping in my head increased in tempo. It wanted us to return there. I pictured my brother’s face, as he had looked in the vision of the vampire feeder den.
Give me more and I’ll give you something in return, I tried to convey to it.
Again I pictured the ghost house.
The shadows danced and bled inward until my living room disappeared into darkness. I sucked in a sharp breath, disoriented. Then a scene began to take shape in the yellow and blue tones of the necro-vision. Treetops and rooftops and streets spread out below me, and the sensation of wind and unfamiliar movement caused my stomach to lurch.
I was flying through the night. The soft flapping of wings surrounded me. Minor demons. We were headed away from the residential streets toward the hills. I looked for landmarks but couldn’t be sure where we were. One of the demons pulled ahead, and the rest of us followed, angling downward to what looked like a compound—a sprawling house surrounded by a high, solid fence.
Alighting on the branches of elm trees like a murder of crows, we had a view of a courtyard below. A figure emerged from a sliding glass door—I sensed the sharp predatory danger and tang of blood that told me it was a vamp, a rogue one. A handful of humans, slow moving and clumsy, followed the vamp.
The vamp tipped his head back and peered up at the starry sky. He inhaled deeply and then turned and beckoned to the humans. “Take in the night, shadows. Stretch your legs.”
The humans—shadows, servants of vampires—looked around with dazed expressions. One of them, a young man, tilted his face up, and my breath stilled.
It was Evan.
