Demons are Forever

by Wynne Hayworth

  Evolution got an astronomical kick in the pants. Now it’s kicking back…

  Afterglow. Our world is changed. Mutated. Now home to humans who possess DNA belonging to creatures once thought to be only the stuff of legends. So what if the neighbor howls at the moon every month? No big deal as long as he mows his lawn.

  A savage killer munching on helpless victims, however, is a big deal to Detective Buck Shand.

  Buck is thinking less legend and more nightmare as he surveys the most recent in a series of brutal slayings. It’s beyond even his special talents, and he’s going to need help with this one. It arrives in the shapely form of Dr. Lian Herrick, a woman with her own form of Afterglow mutation—a demon that will shake Buck’s everyday world to its foundations and turn his brain inside out.

  Will their combined skills be enough to track and stop a savage killer? Possibly. If they can keep their minds on business and their hands off each other long enough to lure a beast who feeds on sex—then kills for pleasure.

  Warning: This book contains blood-spattered scenes of assorted body parts, gruesome murders, and humans who aren’t quite what they appear to be. Also included are episodes of mind-blowing sex and a good old-fashioned bit of detective work by a really cool detective. If you’ve ever dreamed of being a part-time faery, vampire, shapeshifter or paranormal psychic, and like kick-ass heroines with some interestingly unusual talents of their own, then read on.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Demons are Forever

  Copyright © 2009 by Wynne Hayworth

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-665-5

  Edited by Lindsey McGurk

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: September 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Demons are Forever

  Wynne Hayworth

  Dedication

  To my family…you're the best!

  To all the unsung heroes and heroines who play a role in every book on sale today—thank you. The editors, cover artists, formatting staff, publishing staff—so much more goes into the final product than just the writer’s words, and I'm very grateful to you all.

  Special thanks must go to one guy, my literary soul mate. He's always been there for me, and knows what I need almost before I do. Whether with words of encouragement or a well-placed kick in the pants, he delivers. Without him, you probably wouldn't be reading this book today.

  Thanks, babe.

  Prologue

  Science knew about them, of course—gamma ray bursts and their consequent afterglow.

  So the announcement that something, somewhere in interstellar space, was about to go nova didn’t exactly send people shrieking into the streets waiting for the sky to fall.

  Although in retrospect, it probably should have.

  Because the planet was about to change in a way that no human brain could possibly have imagined. Not even a mind belonging to the most fervent science fiction novelist or futuristic scientist.

  For all intents and purposes, it did nothing at all and merited barely a paragraph on an inner page of the newspapers, but for the blissfully ignorant residents of the tiny world they called Earth, nothing would ever be the same.

  It took two generations for the effects to be fully realized. It would take much longer for the new inhabitants of this changed world to come to terms with what it meant. To understand that creatures of fantasies and dreams were no longer simply words on a page or pictures in a book. That human DNA still contained the genetic markers for beings once considered legend.

  And that a gamma ray burst had unlocked this DNA from its sleeping state, creating a new generation that could become any and all of those fantastical creatures.

  So the shocked planet Earth stumbled forward into a new knowledge, struggling to accept that its population had changed—mutated—and that the guy next door might well howl at the full moon with teeth bared and tail wagging even though he’d brought in your garbage can for you earlier that same day.

  Magical abilities were tentatively accepted, paranormal skills were gradually infused into the education system, styles changed to accommodate things like wings and fangs, and psychic talents were no longer considered abnormal but simply part of who we are.

  It wasn’t quite the brave new world Shakespeare envisioned for Miranda, but it did indeed have such creatures in it. For they were more than human, these “afterglow” beings. On the surface they could have merged into any city or town in any time period. But within them were genetic mysteries scientists had yet to solve.

  Within them lay the secrets of ancient things. And that was a mixed blessing.

  Chapter One

  “Shit—”

  Marri Jensen reached behind her for the headboard and hung on as her body surrendered to the best fucking she’d had in quite some time. His cock was huge, slamming again and again deep into her cunt, their bodies slapping together rhythmically as the bed squeaked and moaned in protest.

  He was big all over, not just between his legs, and Marri had sensed his lust the first moment she'd laid eyes on him. It was her talent, her skill, one she shared with most of the other Pleasure Pets who serviced their clientele with enthusiasm. They all loved sex and it was quite natural for them to put their desires to good use at a Pleasure Pad. They were happy, their customers left happy—yep, smiles all around.

  And this dude—well, he surpassed any of the customers she had satisfied recently. One hand was holding her thigh high against his hips as the other squeezed her butt cheek beneath her. She was open, vulnerable and welcoming his thrusts, loving the slightly rough treatment, excited by the constant pounding of her clit and the tiny slick sounds coming from where they were joined.

  She moaned with delight, muscles tensing as her orgasm began building, the first of what she hoped would be many with this man. Her clit ached, her breasts swelled as she released one rung of her headboard and reached for her nipple, pinching it in a frenzy of need.

  The tiny pain stung, sending shivers across her nerve endings, tightening her belly and landing up right where he was hammering against her. His face was flushed, eyes wide and staring at his cock as it slipped in and out of her pussy.

  Marri whimpered, hips bucking up to meet him, thrust for thrust.

  She was coming, trembling, about to fall off the brink into magnificent ecstasy and madness…

  And he moved, burying himself to the hilt in her cunt, leaning down to touch her breast with his tongue then lick upward to her throat.

  Lost in her release, Marri simply closed her eyes and cried out at the hot touch, fuel to the fire she was traversing at that instant.

  She never saw his face lengthen, his skin change or his teeth sharpen. She was blind to the strange glitter of his skin, his dark amber eyes, blind to everything but the cock that was driving her ever higher with each rough penetration.

  Her orgasm was the last thing she experienced before a massive mouth descended on her throat and tore it into shreds.

  ———<
br />
  Detective Buck Shand stepped adroitly around the vomiting patrolman and walked to the door of the Pleasure Pad.

  “Why the hell Con gets these calls, with his stomach, I’ll never understand.” He nodded at the older officer barring his way. “Look at him. Greener than ever.”

  This was true. Officer Conrad Martin was very green. Of course, he was always slightly green, being part elf and all, but right now he was getting pretty close to the color of the grass he was throwing up all over.

  The other man shrugged. “That’s Con. And it’s our shit luck to get these damn calls. Fourth one in—what—six or seven weeks?” He passed Buck a pair of protective plastic boots. “You’ll need these.”

  “Bad, huh?” Buck lifted each foot and covered his shoes with the plastic stuff. It molded rapidly to his contours, pinching his pants against his legs.

  “Yeah.” The man swallowed. “Bad.”

  Buck’s mood sobered rapidly. If Officer Mike Shannon, a bland, with twenty or more years in the force under his belt, said it was bad, then it was really bad. With a capital B. Blands were a lot less sensitive to violence than the afterglows.

  He squared his shoulders and absently brushed the tiny blue mark on his right earlobe that marked him as an afterglow. An AG. He knew he was different, but it was a difference he shared with half the damn planet these days.

  Pushing the stray thoughts aside, he focused on his job. “Upstairs?”

  “Yep. Follow the lab boys. They’ve already started leaving a pretty good trail.”

  With that in mind, Buck pulled a pair of plastic gloves from his back pocket and slid them over his hands. “Thanks, Mike. We gonna be able to keep this quiet, you think? We don’t need any more troubles than we’ve got already.”

  “I hear you. We’ll do our best, but you know the newshounds are gonna get it sooner or later.” Mike looked somber. “And after this one, I’d say sooner.”

  Buck nodded in silent agreement, then did the thing that topped his Ten Most Disliked Activities list.

  He walked into a homicide knowing he was going to have to open a door in his mind that he really preferred to keep shut.

  The metallic scent of fresh blood seared his throat before he got to the crime scene and the soft sounds of a forensics team at work led him to the end of the upstairs hallway. There were other doors, all closed at the moment. He assumed they were empty, otherwise there’d be people working inside them, sifting through bits and pieces of stuff, the everyday detritus of a Pleasure Pad.

  A very tall man leaned against the last doorjamb, watching Buck approach. “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” Buck looked at his partner. “How’s it hanging?”

  Cheney Fisher’s mouth curved down. “In buckets. All over the place.” He nodded inside. “See for yourself.”

  Automatically blocking off his nasal passages as best he could, Buck slid past Cheney and did as he was invited—saw for himself.

  It was a scene reminiscent of the latest horror movie to hit the theaters.

  Blood, beginning to turn viscous and dark in places as it congealed, slashed a path through the room from floor to ceiling. It had spattered on the pale wallpaper, mingling with the pink and white stripes in a post-post-modern pattern of drips and globs, softly muted at the edges and solid in the middle.

  “Whoa.” Buck traced the evidence with a practiced eye. “Somebody’s artery sure blew a gasket.” He stared at the clear spurted daubs where a heart had pumped strongly, not knowing it was about to close up shop.

  “Wanna see the body, Buck?” A tech, clad in absurdly white coveralls gestured at the bed. There were smears of blood on his feet, and nasty stuff on his knees. Buck looked at the plush carpet soaked with the internal fluids belonging to whatever lumped the opaque plastic lab sheet. Yuck.

  “Guess so.” Buck carefully avoided the evidence markers and their associated gobbets of something red and nasty-looking, stepping around them as best he could. Since the whole damn carpet looked redder than it should have, he figured they’d already worked it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have gotten this close without being yelled at.

  Silently the tech drew back the sheet and Buck got his first good look at the—for lack of a better word—body.

  There had to be a better word.

  This wasn’t a body by any stretch of the imagination. It was an autopsy gone terribly wrong. Bits and pieces of what had once been a woman lay strewn haphazardly amidst a mess of blood and tissue, the ribcage standing intact above the carnage like the obscene carcass of an animal or the ribs of a wrecked ship. One breast sat neatly to the left, its nipple still hard.

  “Fuck.” He’d seen many things, a lot of them dead. But he knew this was the worst yet.

  “You said it.” The tech sighed behind his face shield.

  “ME seen this yet?”

  “On the way.”

  Somebody from the medical examiner’s office would have to sign off on the corpse before it could be collected and removed. For now, all Buck could do was observe and make some preliminary determinations.

  Female, blonde, probably in her late twenties. Her head was pretty much intact even though it was at an angle nature never intended. Her spine showed white through what was left of her neck and throat. Great ripping gashes had severed both arms, and her thighs were torn into bloody pulp.

  Incongruously, a tiny glittering toe ring adorned one perfect, untouched foot. The toenails were painted a shiny pink.

  Buck swallowed down bile and focused on the scene as a whole, knowing this was why he was doing what he did.

  It was time. Time to open that door nature had placed in his fucking brain. The door to another level of consciousness where things roamed that were best left to the darkness. He had to do it now, before things got disturbed. Before the essence of what had happened here vaporized and was lost forever.

  At moments like this, he hated his skill with every fiber of his being, but it was what he did. What he had to do.

  He stepped back into a corner as the tech replaced the sheet, covering the remains of what once had been a laughing, happy woman. Forcing that image aside, Buck closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

  Let it come. Let it fill the air.

  Look at it with eyes that saw beyond reality. Eyes that would never open on daylight or see a child smile. Eyes within eyes. Thoughts within thoughts.

  Mists swirled and Buck looked past them to the terrible roiling darkness they concealed.

  Sex.

  Lust.

  Heat…two bodies, fucking.

  Hunger.

  Not the hunger to orgasm, but another type of hunger. Pushed high by the frenzied meeting of flesh to flesh, skin to skin.

  There was a laugh, a woman’s laugh, happy and excited—she was enjoying it, relishing the rush of her climax creeping up on her.

  He fought further into his mind. He couldn’t see—there was only the woman, her hands above her head, hanging on as she did what she did best—took a man’s cock into her body and pleasured them both.

  Then it changed. Her laughter turned to gasps and one blinding second of sheer terror. Buck gasped with her, feeling the sudden agonizing rip of teeth against throat, her hot blood against her cheek, of knowing her life was about to be snuffed out.

  The mists thickened. He nearly groaned as he tried to peer past them, to see who or what was tearing her apart.

  But there was nothing. Nothing but a sharp chill, an icy cold sense of dread that froze the sweat on his spine.

  Then, just as he was about to pull away, frustrated and angry at himself for his failure, he caught a glimpse of something.

  Two somethings.

  Eyes, the color of old amber, glowing with a dark fire. The pupils slitted and black like a cat’s. Feral, powerful. Ancient.

  And staring directly at him from above the torn and bloodied flesh.

  He sucked in a quick breath and swayed, pulling himself out of the vision with a force that made him dizz
y.

  The ripples of unease continued to shiver down his body. Whatever this thing was, he’d not run across anything like it before. Ever.

  “You okay?” Cheney was at his side.

  “Yeah.” Buck ran a hand over his face. “This is bad. Real bad.”

  “You see anything?”

  “Yes and no. They were having sex. She was having a good time. Until—”

  “Until what?” Cheney kept his voice quiet, encouraging.

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him. It. Whatever it was. It was fucking cold, I can tell you that.” He shivered and rubbed his arms with his hands. “All I saw was his eyes.”

  “His eyes?”

  “Yeah. Strange eyes, Cheney. Real strange eyes. Not ones you’d forget in a hurry.”

  “Hey, lady. You can’t come in here.” The tech yelled at somebody standing at the door and both Buck and Cheney turned to see a petite figure observing the scene.

  She gestured to her badge. “County Coroner’s Office.”

  Slowly, she moved her head and her gaze found Buck and Cheney as they stood in the shadows.

  Buck froze and he barely realized he’d grabbed Cheney’s arm as dizziness swamped him.

  “What?” His partner blinked.

  “Those eyes I saw?” He stared at the woman. “She’s got them too.”

  “Dude. Snap out of it.” Cheney’s tone was sharp.

  Buck looked again.

  The woman’s eyes were black. Completely black. But as normal as pure black eyes could be.

  He shook himself free of Cheney’s arm. “Sorry. I guess I drifted there for a minute.”

  “Understandable.” His partner straightened. “C’mon. Let’s go see what the County’s sent us.”

  “Yeah. Let’s.”

  Buck schooled his features into their usual calm expression. He knew what he’d seen. And that probably no one else had noticed.

  This woman wasn’t what she seemed.

  Of course, these days, who was?