Demons are Forever

by Wynne Hayworth

  Chairs were scraping even as he spoke and Buck glanced at Cheney. He knew he probably wore that same look—a mix of apprehension, intensity and something that screamed cop.

  “Any of you going out into the streets, I want you to suit up. This is the Bogs, guys. Bad place to be. Two of you at all times. Nobody likes us over there. But right now we’ve got a job to do. I don’t give a shit about hurt feelings or bad tempers. I don’t want any hurt cops, okay?”

  Nods greeted the captain’s orders. They all knew the Bogs. It was the gathering place for the few remaining dregs of society. Buck grimaced inwardly at the mere thought of the gang turfs, the drug houses—it was one of the few places in the city he’d rather not go.

  Afterglow had changed so much. But there were apparently a few facets of human nature that had been left untouched. None of them particularly charming. And most of them could be found in the well-named Bogs, lurking in the grubby darkness between the empty windows and boarded up buildings.

  It was almost a self-contained society, policing itself and rarely invoking a call to outsiders. What happened in the Bogs was taken care of in the Bogs. There weren’t many occasions where law enforcement was summoned to deal with a problem.

  The Bogs took care of its own business and resented interference from anyone else. Buck knew this call had to be a doozie for it to come in to their precinct. His gut was telling him something he really didn’t want to know.

  Their killer had struck again.

  He grabbed Lian’s shoulder. “You’re with me.”

  She moved beneath his grasp, but not to pull away. Her body turned as he turned, in synch with his steps. “Yes.”

  They hurried to the door, Cheney in front, calling over his shoulder. “I’ll take my car, check the scene, then do witnesses in-house. You got the DB. Okay?”

  They were halfway to the garage already by the time Buck had chance to respond. “Got it. Meet you there.”

  It was their usual routine—Buck having the gift to read the crime scene better than Cheney and Cheney knowing how to get the most out of witnesses. Buck opened his car door and slid behind the wheel, wondering if there would be any witnesses this time around. He was so focused it was almost a surprise to realize that Lian had taken the passenger seat and even now was buckling her belt.

  He twisted his lips at her in a semblance of a smile. “You might want to cover your ears.”

  The truck hummed its way rapidly to the exit and Buck reached for the dashboard as they hit the street. He punched the little button for his siren. Technology had yet to come up with a better way to clear the road for a police vehicle, although the sound had been fine-tuned to just short of breaking glass in every window they passed.

  “Jesus Christ.” Lian cringed and covered her ears. “You weren’t kidding.”

  He couldn’t spare the time to answer. He practically flew down the city streets, his composite tires barely maintaining their grip on the asphalt. For the umpteenth time he wished for those wonderful science fiction cars that defied gravity. It hadn’t happened and probably never would.

  A siren and a lead foot on the accelerator were the best he could hope for. The engine might not use gas anymore but it was big, powerful and would get him to the crime scene as quickly as anything else out there. Right now, that was all that mattered.

  The journey took less than fifteen minutes and they were in the Bogs in record time. There was no mistaking their destination. Flashing lights and a large number of police vehicles converging on the scene were a dead giveaway.

  So was the fact that there was hardly anyone else on the street. Unlike a regular crime scene, which drew attention from the curious, the nosy and the downright sick, something like this in the Bogs had the reverse effect. It sent the residents deep undercover.

  Sometimes a good thing, sometimes a bad thing. Buck had no idea what it would prove to be in this case. He parked the truck in the nearest gap, “suited up” by pulling his laser pulse pistol from the glove compartment, made sure Lian was out and then double clicked his key lock mechanism. He’d prefer his wheels still be there when he was done, and one never knew in the Bogs…

  ———

  Lian’s ears were still ringing as she followed close behind Buck and into the derelict-looking building that was clearly the primary crime scene. Already uniformed officers were doing official-looking things, like clearing away some debris off the street to make way for the Forensics team who would need the space for their equipment. They didn’t need traffic control—there were no cars moving on the street at all. It was oddly silent, even for this hour of the morning.

  The cop at the door waved them up, his face an expressionless mask, his weapons very much in evidence. There were no exchanges, either humorous or otherwise. Not this time. She couldn’t begin to guess what he was thinking, or know if he’d seen the actual body.

  But there was a look on his face that spelled bad.

  It was a look she didn’t want to see, a look that sent a small chill dancing down her spine. As she followed Buck into the gloom, the chill grew stronger and her nostrils flared then contracted at the recognizable scent of fresh blood.

  One flight of stairs, two doorways—and they were there. Grim-faced and somber, two cops stood outside the door watching them as they approached.

  “This it?” Buck glanced at the closed door and took a pair of gloves from his pocket, indicating to Lian that she should do the same.

  One man nodded. “Yep. We took one look and left it for you guys. Nobody’s been in since.”

  The other swallowed, a harsh gulp. “Only footprints we saw are those of the girl who found—whatever it is. Was.” He corrected himself. “Best we can tell, scene’s untouched.”

  Buck took a breath. “My partner’s on the way. When he gets here, tell him about the girl. She still around?”

  “Downstairs having hysterics in one of the patrol cars, last I heard.”

  “Okay.” He glanced at Lian. “You ready?”

  She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “No.”

  With that terse comment, Buck opened the grimy door carefully and the harshly relentless smell of death washed over them.

  Hesitating, he looked down at the floor. “You got gloves? Got shoe covers with you?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  Buck paused, took a pair from his own pocket and put them on. “Use ’em.”

  She did as she was told, unfolding the little package and slipping on the transparent stuff, feeling the cool clasp as it molded to the skin of her ankles, covering her feet. The gloves followed.

  Why they needed such protection was pretty obvious from the moment he pushed the door wide. The room was large, dominated by a profusely draped four poster bed. Heavy fabric hung from the cross bars, falling behind the headboard and tied back to either side. It was almost medieval, the wood carved ornately, the fabric trimmed with a long, knotted gold fringe.

  Or it probably had been gold. Now it was all red, blood red, a virulent sunset of red falling from everything.

  The wooden floors were puddled with it, the carpet beneath the bed drenched with it. There seemed to be no pattern to it, no clearly distinguishable arterial spurts or spatters. It was everywhere, seeping, soaking, staining—

  Lian sucked in air through her mouth, trying not to gag at the stench. “Fuck.”

  “Keep to the perimeter if you can.” Buck inched his way carefully into the room, stepping on the edges of the floor, avoiding the worst of the blood pools.

  She copied his moves, heading in the opposite direction, fighting the inclination to press her back to the wall. She wanted to leave as few traces as possible that might contaminate any evidence still there.

  Her gaze went to the bed, but her brain had trouble acknowledging what she saw.

  It was simply an unrecognizable mess. Garbage that had once held life now lay strewn over rumpled linens, globs and blobs of what might be flesh mingled with shattered sl
ivers of something that was most probably bones.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, reaching for calm, for that place where she could absorb the information and process it, rather than run screaming from this chamber of horrors.

  Across the carnage, Buck made a sound of agonized disgust, a grunt deep in his throat that she could feel and understand. He was experienced at his job, but this—it was almost too much, even for him.

  Strangely enough, knowing he was equally affected, strengthened Lian’s resolve and she opened her eyes once more, this time surveying the room as a whole and trying to gather visual details.

  Something on the floor next to the bed caught her eye. “Buck? Over here…” She motioned with one hand and he retraced his steps to stand beside her at last.

  They both looked at what she had seen. A leg was sticking out from beneath the bed hangings.

  Buck grunted. “There were two of them this time.” He closed his eyes and absently reached for her hand. She grasped it willingly, knowing he would be trying to capture anything he could of this terrible act. He would be opening his mind, using his unique skills—although how he could possibly live with whatever he saw, she had no idea.

  “Two of them. Blondes. They were ready to play with him. They were looking forward to it. Lots of cash, one of them thought.” His voice was gentle—almost calm—and Lian watched him, distracted for a few moments from the chaos around them.

  “Sex. He wanted sex. Fuck both of them together. One up the ass, one with his fingers…”

  A wave of heat crashed into her, making her stagger and cling to Buck’s hand.

  Yes. Sex. Craving sex. Hunger—fuck me, feed the hunger.

  Stunned, she struggled against an arousal that licked fire from her feet through her crotch to her breasts and her lips. It was painful, like a red-hot brand against her inner sanctuary, awakening the succubus within in one powerful strike.

  She could feel it, feel the need, the desperation for this fucking, the sense that such pleasure lay ahead. That nothing would stand in the way of slaking this thirst, nothing could stop the urge to plunder, to take, to fuck—

  She ached as the need swamped into her mind, a savage desire to take sexual fulfillment, to fuck, to do whatever was necessary to ease the screaming hunger for release. Her pussy wept and throbbed between her thighs as she fought to push her succubus back into the fortress locked within her brain.

  Buck’s fingers tightened into a vise-like grip on hers and the pain helped her control her emotions. She dragged her mind into focus, sweating from the effort.

  “They didn’t know what was coming. They lay there, the two of them, laughing as they teased him. They touched themselves. Touched each other. Played with their nipples. He liked that.” His voice was hushed as he narrated the scene playing before his mind’s eye.

  “They were willing and ready. One of them sucked the other one while he watched them. It was all fun and games and sex. Then he got in on the act. He made one come.” Buck’s eyelids clamped tighter. “I can’t—shit, I can’t see him, but she’s coming. She’s screaming.” He shuddered a little. “Now the other one. He’s fucking her ass. Turning her over. She’s ready for him. Pulling at her butt cheeks. Showing him what she’s got. He goes for it …”

  Suddenly he started to shiver and his hand shook in Lian’s grasp like a leaf in a gale. “It’s cold. So fucking cold—I can’t—I can’t see—”

  Lian moved in close, holding Buck’s hand and wrapping her other arm around him as he trembled violently. “He’s ripping them, both of them. I see blood—God, so much blood. And it’s so fucking cold—”

  She continued to hold him, staring at his face as his voice trailed off. Then he opened his eyes and stared at her, his face white as a sheet. “That eye. He’s looking at me with that eye. Jesus fucking Christ, it’s like he’s looking at me. Right this goddamned minute. Oh God—”

  She clasped her arms as far around Buck as she could, clinging to him, pulling him tight against her warmth, trying to help him as he rode out the terrible shudders racking his body. He was rigid, muscles clenched—and aroused, his cock solid and pushing against the front of his pants. She couldn’t help rubbing her stomach against it, still scorched by the touch of some primeval sexual need, still tingling and ready to fuck anything and everything in sight.

  Whatever had been in that room, whatever had fucked and killed there—it had left a strong signature, a violent aftermath of power that licked frantically at the two of them.

  Her breasts were tender, her nipples hard to the point of pain beneath her bra. Holding Buck this closely wasn’t helping, since his scent mingled with the scent of death in her nostrils. She could tell them apart, the sickly sweet smell of the victims fading a little as it was replaced by the fresh salty musk of the man in her arms.

  Who was finally getting some color back into his face and some warmth into his frozen limbs. “Christ. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He rasped the words, easing himself away from her and pulling her toward the door.

  “You won’t hear me complaining.” She followed him willingly, both carefully stepping on dry wood and finally erupting out of the room to tumble against the opposite wall and pant like runners at the end of a race. The two cops stared at them, then at each other in confusion.

  Cheney appeared at the top of the stairs, hurrying to Buck. “You okay?”

  Buck nodded, then shook his head. “Yes, but not really.” He took a breath. “Two vics, Cheney. Parts intermingled. Both women. He had sex with both of them, but it’s the same perp and I’ll bet a week’s paycheck the lab boys won’t find squat.” He hissed a disgusted breath through his teeth.

  Lian nodded. “Definitely two females. There’re—” She cleared her throat. “There’re some parts under the bed.” She swallowed down the remains of her breakfast. Damned if she’d lose it and vomit in front of the law.

  Cheney looked at her with respect. “You didn’t need to see that, Doc.” He lifted an eyebrow at Buck. “Did she have to go in with you?”

  Buck met his friend’s gaze. “Yes she did, she had to see it fresh. There might have been something there—” He turned and met Lian’s eyes for the first time since they’d come out. “Was there? Did you pick up anything?”

  She stared back. “Less than you. Nowhere near the details. But…”

  “But what?”

  “I sensed the savage sexual need. A sexual hunger that needed to be fed, the same thing you felt.” She frowned as she tried to organize her thoughts. “But I didn’t sense an urge to do what that thing did.” She shook her head. “It’s odd.”

  “How?”

  Buck pressed her for an answer she wasn’t sure she had. Lian took a breath. “I don’t think that whatever was in there would have killed if it had been left alone. I think—Jesus Christ, Buck—” She grabbed the front of his jacket with her fists. “I think it’s being controlled.”

  Chapter Five

  “You’re a cognitive too, aren’t you?”

  Buck fired the question at Lian as they buckled themselves into the truck, both equally anxious to get away from the carnage. They’d left Cheney abruptly, Buck knowing he wouldn’t have to explain his need to leave.

  She swallowed then nodded briefly. “Sometimes, yes.”

  “You picked up on stuff back there. You knew I was sensing things.” He had to put this into words. There was an overwhelming desire clawing at his guts to understand this killer, to stop him, and to find out how Lian was involved—if in fact she was.

  “Yes.”

  “Goddamit it, woman. What the fuck’s going on here?” He reached for the key and turned on the engine, cranking the heat up in a vain attempt to warm up his still-chilled limbs.

  “Christ, you think I don’t want to know?” She rounded on him, eyes fiercely black. “You think I can look at—at—that and not what to know what did it?”

  “Then level with me.” Buck shifted the gears and rolled them away from the
Bogs, putting distance between them and the horror of the crime scene. “Stop hiding behind that inscrutable expression of yours. Tell me what you know, what you think and what the fuck you are.” He bit back an oath. “Because you’re driving me fucking nuts.”

  Lian was silent for a few minutes, giving him time to push his temper back down to manageable levels. He was being unfair, he knew, taking out his reaction on her. He’d run into something incomprehensible, something beyond imagining, and it made him crazy furious that he didn’t know which way to turn for answers.

  His senses were telling him things that made no sense. For once he could see, but not see. He could feel the sex, feel the fundamental urge to fuck. And he could feel the agonies that came on the heels of the orgasms. He could almost hear the mental screams as the victims died, the sweet tang of release still in their throats as their deaths overtook the shudders of completion.

  The lingering effects of the redolent sexual images rode on his shoulders like a heavy weight, stirring his cock, firing his blood even as he fought the simplistic response of his body. He was aroused and on fire deep down in his essential being, a man who had just observed a fiercely hot porn film with an ending that redefined horror.

  Buck was furious he couldn’t shut off his cock or stop his balls from aching. He was equally furious that every fiber of his manhood was screaming for the woman sitting next to him. Her scent seemed to fill the cab of his truck, washing around his senses like a soft enticing cloud of heat.

  And still she was silent.

  He risked a glance over at her to see her eyes fixed on her hands where they lay entwined in her lap. Her knuckles were white as she clenched them together.

  “Lian?”

  She didn’t move.

  “Lian, talk to me.”

  They pulled in to the underground garage of the station as he waited for her to respond. Automatically, he drove to the lowest level, parking his truck in the usual large corner space. It was one of the few spots that gave him room to turn the beast around without damaging any other vehicles, and it was also out of the way. He liked the idea of his own parking place, ignored the teasing of his peers about the correlation between truck size and penis size, and most often didn’t even think about it.