by Susan Stec
His statement hung in the air like an undisturbed early morning fog nearly an hour before Chick tried to whisk it away. "We're down to just under a half a tank of gas; this mother sure sucks it down." When Christopher didn't say a word, she went on, "You wanna top it off? I just saw a sign for a truck stop that had some dancing girls. I can get this taste out of my mouth and you can… Maybe you can find some O negative, or… Hey, I won't say a word to Dorius if you see a chick you want to, um… you know."
A smile spread slowly across Christopher's face. "I'm in."
She smiled, eyes on the road. "Watch for another sign. The last one said fifteen miles."
~~~~
Chapter Ten
~~~~
"The phone is missing!" I screamed at Marcus from the dining room.
"I'm sure it's there somewhere, dear," he answered, stepping into the kitchen. "Have you checked the…?"
I tuned him out and stomped into the living room, snatching the house phone out of the charger on the end table by the couch. I knew where the damn pink cell was, and I was livid.
I hit "menu," scrolled down, and hammered the "call" button as soon as Christopher's name came up on the screen. I thumbed the volume, pushed the "speaker" key, and loud ringing erupted from the phone.
On the third ring, Christopher answered, "Hey, Susan. How's it going?"
I was off and running. "You know how it's going, you little shit. Where the hell is the pink phone? And don't you dare tell me you don't have it!"
There was a long pause. I stood rigid, tapping my foot against the oak floor. Finally, my mother's voice brayed from the speaker. "I have it. I talked to JoAnn—she's out shopping with Raphael and the kid. She wanted to talk…"
"You absolutely did not talk to her!" I screamed, pumping the receiver two inches from my mouth. "You can't touch the Earth-to-Abyss phone. So why the hell did you take it?" I sucked in a breath and waited for an answer.
"That's the thing," Mom said, all snarky-like. "I went to Lowe's, picked up an asbestos glove, the kind you use when you're playing with fire in a…"
"Son-of-a-bitch!" I spat. "How the hell are we supposed to rescue JoAnn if we can't find out when she's alone with Lily? And damn it all to hell, you better not say you're gonna call me and let me know when, because…"
"I won't be calling you," Mom said calmly. "I told JoAnn to have the demon whip you up another phone. Look, gotta keep my eyes on the road, so deal with it."
"Don't you dare hang up on me! I'm not finished with you, damn…"
A grating dial tone cut me off mid-sentence.
I slammed the phone back in the charger. "She frigging hung up on me!"
"I just had a thought, love," Marcus said, one side of his mouth reaching for his cheek.
Pacing the living room, I said, "It better not have anything to do with us going upstairs, or taking off any of our clothes! We can't call JoAnn! If we can't contact my sister, we can't get them home! Were you not listening?" I headed toward the fridge to get a blood bag, mumbling something about stupid men and their stupid priorities, even though my body was arguing that a little romp might ease some of the tension.
Marcus grabbed my arm as I walked by. "Not sex this time, darling. I was wondering if you could pull up two portals," he said calmly, "one to hold the demon here in the living room—the other to gain entrance to the Abyss."
I whipped around to face him, my mind warring with a mild disappointment about the whole "not sex this time" thing, and a good share of enthusiasm for his idea. "That might work, and while I go get JoAnn, Lily, and Tootles, you can keep the demon entertained."
"I think not," Marcus firmly said. "It will be I who retrieves your family. You, with as much help as I can muster from the others, will stay right here and mind the demon."
I waved my hand at him. "Hold it! We have to make sure Lily is with JoAnn when we go into the other portal. How do we do that without the damn phone?"
"We don't need it," Marcus said. "If Raphael is here, I see no reason why your sister wouldn't be with…"
I threw up both hands. "You heard Mom! Raphael is staying close—and shit!—what if he's holding Lily when I summon him? Would she come through too? Or worse yet, what if the first part of the plan goes well—we can pull his ass from anywhere in Hell—but when we get there, JoAnn and Lily are not at the house? We won't know where to go to find them."
Marcus ran a hand through his long, dark hair. "You make a very valid point. We should first obtain another communication device."
* * * *
Zaire parked the Cuda in an asphalt lot in front of a massive five-story, redbrick building that stretched out in front of her like a shopping mall. "BAMVC of Miami," was painted impressively across the building's face, black over gold, gleaming in the artificial light dappling the tiled letters.
Opening the trunk, she pulled out her duffel bag and slammed it shut, sprinting up the front steps and through the double glass doors into the lobby.
A long, spiral staircase dominated the room, winding from floor to ceiling, touching briefly at each landing. An onyx banister with translucent posts appeared to be suspended over floating stairs of fourteen carat gold with a runner of lush, black carpet held in place by thin, gold rods. The whole circular room gleamed in gold-mirrored walls, showing the stairs multiple times and from different angles.
Not a picture anywhere—the walls were rich and shiny, with small twinkling lights that wrapped around the floors, marking each level. Above each ring of lights, a solid black, circular wall was peppered with gold doorknobs every fifteen feet, but it wasn't evident where each door was cut, making it appear as one, solid ebony circle, dotted with gold.
The black marble floor in the lobby looked like it was Windexed every time someone stepped on it. Zaire climbed the stairs looking up through the glass-domed ceiling at the dark sky and sparkling stars, as she mumbled, "Damn it, Dorius better not give me any shit. I'm fuckin' tired of existing in everyone else's shadow."
She headed right for Dorius' office as she'd been there before. On the third floor, not bothering to knock, she pulled open a door flush with the wall, and stepped inside.
Dorius looked up from his mahogany desk, his phone attached to his ear, and pointed to the couch on her left. She dropped her duffel bag, walked over to a refrigerator built into an entertainment center, and pulled out two blood bags. Slapping one onto her fangs, she slid into the leather couch, resting her black boots on the coffee table in front of her.
Dorius glared at her feet, and spoke into the receiver. "Did they say where Christopher and Chick went?" He listened as he fanned his hand at her boots and motioned for Zaire to immediately remove them from his furniture. Zaire huffed and dropped her feet to the carpet. "You may have to secure Betty in the vehicle," Dorius told whoever was on the other end of the line.
Zaire smiled. At least, the Betty and Christopher thing was taking some of the heat off her for the moment.
Dorius picked up a file folder from his desk and slid it in Zaire's direction. "And how long before you arrive?" he asked the phone as Zaire got up, swaggered over to the desk, picked up the file, and dropped the empty plastic bag into a ceramic trash can by the couch on her way back. Dorius loudly cleared his throat, and she turned around and shot him questioning eyes. He pointed to the white ceramic container, then to a large opening in the entertainment center, with a white sign sporting a redcross labeled, "Trash."
Zaire mouthed, "Fuck you," and fell onto the couch, slamming the second bag of blood to her mouth.
His fangs dropped, and he hissed into the receiver. "Bring her directly to the… guest room—the one that locks from the outside—I will have an attendant meet you there."
Dorius placed the phone in the receiver and turned his angry, black eyes on Zaire. "Take that empty container out of the pottery on my floor and place it where it belongs." He flicked a finger at the trash bin. "If you continue to have a… attitude, you will be getting straight back into that ob
noxious automobile of yours, and returning to where you came from. Do I make myself clear?"
Zaire's silver eyes shot daggers at him for a heartbeat; but she did as she was told, and took a seat in a leather chair on the other side of Dorius' desk, the file folder in her lap. "So when do I join the team in the field?"
Dorius pointed to the file. "You will be bringing yourself up to speed with these murderers first by reading that file. Then you will be training Betty after her testing. And if she has half the strength you have, she'll be joining you on the hunt to further her education. I don't have the time to train her properly. I trust you can handle that?"
They locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and then Zaire said, "Son-of-a-fuckin'-bitch!" and slapped open the case file.
~~~~
Chapter Eleven
~~~~
"Well, for the last hour, Monty hasn't touched the raccoon I put in his cage," Resi announced as she walked into the kitchen. "But it's hard to tell if it's because of my mind push—or if he’s just not hungry. I planted the message that he's not to go near the animal; now I just have to wait until tomorrow and see if it's still there. Then I can reverse the mind push and suggest he…" She abruptly stopped by the breakfast bar, meeting my "I could care less" gaze, and scrunched her brows as she whipped a hand over her chest. "What's wrong? Is Zaire okay?"
"I haven't heard a word from Zaire," I said. "Mom and Christopher left and took JoAnn's little pink phone with them."
Resi's hand dropped to her hip. "Go on! It burns like hell when anyone but you–"
"Asbestos glove." I cut in, waving my arm. "Lowe's."
"Damn! I wish I’d thought of that!" Resi ran a finger under the edge of her perfectly lined and glossed lower lip. She looked at the pink smudge on the tip and wiped it on the palm of her other hand, saying, "So, what the hell do we do now?"
Marcus swaggered over to the breakfast bar. "Oh, Chick made a suggestion."
"And that would be?" Resi sang.
"We have to summon Raphael again," I said from the living room.
"Why are we summoning the demon?" Jake wheezed, as he walked through the sliding glass doors from the back porch with Paul close behind.
"Because we need another phone to contact JoAnn," I answered. I moved around to the other side of the dining room table, because Jake had his hand over his mouth, holding back a burp.
As a shape-shifter dragon, whenever Jake gets nervous, he belches, passes noxious gas, or emits flames from his nose, and often, all three. A real pain, that, especially in an enclosed car at seventy-five miles an hour. We have the singed headliner to prove it.
Gibbie, a two-inch fairy, stood on Paul's shoulder, a fist full of Paul's long, black hair in his hand. With a high-pitched squeaky voice, he instructed, "You guys better run that by Chick before…"
"She's the one that told us to call Raphael!" I cut him off with a nasty grin. "She left on some stupid mission to save JoAnn and took the pink Hell phone and Christopher with her."
Paul, the resident werewolf, ran a hand over the stubble on his chin, grinning. "Where's Jeni? I heard she was stationed here again."
His attraction to my mortal daughter always pissed me off. I wasn't up for paper-training a litter of pups. "Already in bed, alone, and she's staying that way," I snapped.
Paul's blue eyes sparkled. "I think Jeni is old enough to decide whom she sleeps with."
I looked at him from under angry eyelids. "You're a wolf and she's…"
"A little piece of heaven?" Paul feigned adoration.
I decided to ignore him. "Resi, get the spell book."
"Yoa-kay," she said, heading over to the basket in the living room by the couch where we kept our fantasy books.
The fairy zipped up to the ceiling fan over the dining room table and hovered like a hummingbird in front of the moving blades, his head jerking with each blade. Then he hopped on one and sat down, his bare feet dangling over the edge. He looked like he was on a merry-go-round as he orbited and asked, "How was Chick able to pick up the phone?"
"Asbestos glove," Resi and I said over our shoulders, as she pulled the spell book out of the basket. I rolled back the carpet in the living room, revealing the pentagram etched on the oak floor.
Paul opened a kitchen drawer and pulled out three candles.
Jake bolted across the living room, stuck his head into the fireplace, and puffed a trail of flames from his nostrils, igniting the neatly stacked pile of wood inside. It was ninety degrees outside—we didn't need the damn fire. He turned to us, farted loudly, and sheepishly said, "I'm sorry. Summoning always makes me anxious."
Everyone backed up a few feet.
"I thought you guys were out hunting the rogues responsible for the murders," I said, waving my hand in front of my nose. I was thinking if I watered down the damn flames, it would make one hell of a mess.
"We did, and we couldn't find a trail," Paul said, handing me the candles. "Dorius told us to head back here for a couple of days. There's some wildlife out by Tavares Marina wreaking havoc with the children in the play area by the restrooms. And since Betty might have been turned by a vamp-animal… Well, suffice to say, Dorius wants us on it."
The Marina in question was where I became a vampire. Christopher bit me in the restroom there almost a year ago. "Do we all have to go?" I hadn't returned there since.
"Nope," Paul answered. "Dorius evidently doesn't know about Chick's side trip, because he wanted her to go with us, but–"
"No, he doesn't," Marcus said. "And they'll probably be indisposed for a few days."
Jake burped, eyed the fireplace, squeezed his butt cheeks together, and squeaked, "A few days? Dorius isn't going to be happy about that."
"No shit!" Gibbie said in a shrill voice that had me reaching to cover my ears.
Paul locked eyes with Marcus. "Does Chick intend to call Dorius about her little trip, or are we playing cover-up again?"
The room became quiet.
Jake and Gibbie exchanged looks of trepidation.
Paul said, "Cover-up, it is."
"I have the spell, Mommy dearest," Resi sang.
Jake farted again, shoving his face in the fireplace, as he hiccupped another short burst of fire.
"Swell!" I headed for the kitchen and the fire extinguisher.
Marcus pushed, Darling, I'd leave the fire; he will only ignite it again.
I turned back into the room, cranked down the air conditioner to fifty degrees, and wished I'd worn a short-sleeved blouse.
Gibbie dropped from the blade of the fan, hanging on with one hand as he spun around in circles. "Man, it's good to be back!"
"So, shall we summon the demon?" Marcus asked.
"Oooh, this is such a bad idea," Jake whimpered, scooting closer to the fireplace. "What are you going to offer him this time?"
As I placed the candles around the pentagram on the floor, I answered, "I don't think we have to offer him anything. My sister wants to talk to me. I'm sure he'll gladly give us another phone, if only to shut her up."
"We can only hope," Marcus said, flopping on the couch next to Resi.
"Read me the chant, Resi," I said, lighting the last candle and biting my wrist so I could drop some blood by each one.
"One would think by now, you'd know this by heart." Resi pulled the red ribbon that marked the page.
Gibbie flew over and landed on Paul's shoulder as he sat in the leather recliner by the couch. Jake plopped down in front of the fireplace, looking extremely uncomfortable.
"Just read it," I snapped, standing in the center of the pentagram, both hands on my hips. "This book's different than Gran's. I just wanna make sure I don't screw up." Resi read the chant:
From the otherworld, I summon you here
My anointed circle protects; harm brings no fear
Only an exchange of words do I seek
Come, demon Raphael; to me you must speak
I repeated it and the room crackled, smelling of burnt ambe
r as a portal opened in the ceiling. I threw up my shield, encompassing all of us for protection about the same time Raphael fell through the portal and onto the floor, right in front of the shield. The demon had Lily and Tootles in his arms. The dog wiggled free, scrambled for the shield, leapt at us, ricocheted off, and landed in a little, matted, white fur ball against the far wall. Tootles got up, shook froth from her muzzle, snorted, backed into the corner by the television and lay down, her paws wrapped over her maw.
Raphael righted himself as Lily wiggled in a lacy, lavender dress. Kicking her feet, now encased in black patent leather shoes and white ankle socks, she smiled at me. "You must be Auntie Susan, the catcher in the rye, a twinkle in your eye, standing on a precipice, pondering the world's release."
I scowled. What the hell? "Uh, well, yes, I'm your aunt. What are you doing here, sweetie?"
Raphael put a finger over Lily's cute, little pout, with a warning as their eyes met for a second. He adjusted the yellow feathers atop his red cowboy hat with one hand, and hiked Lily higher on his hip. "Isn't she quite clever?" he asked, running a hand down his billowing, silk shirt, stopping to touch each silver button.
The shirt matched the purple boots he wore that were trimmed in silver with bright red flowers embossed on the toes. Baggy pantaloons added a splash of yellow between the shirt and boots. He looked like a five-year-old had colored him with a box of Crayola crayons.
"I just can't seem to go anywhere without her," Raphael said. "My daughter so amuses me." He tilted his head, his black and red snake eyes twinkling.
I shot a look at Marcus as he pushed, He's making a statement, Susan. I'm sure he knows we're interested in getting JoAnn and Lily back home. Just be pleasant. Ask for the phone.
Raphael cleared his throat. "So to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"
