by J. K. Coi
* * * * *
Thwack. Baron spun around as his opponent’s meaty fist caught him upside the head. He tasted blood where his teeth had cut the inside of his lip.
Ignoring it, he countered with a smooth roundhouse dead center to the demon’s chest. For the moment, the true nature of the monster was still hidden beneath human skin. But once this guy changed, the claws would really come out, and that was no figure of speech.
He glanced over to see Rhys dispatching the bastard’s cohort to the Abyss with a long blade through the heart and a spark of nasty green light. The demon Baron had knocked on his ass quickly realized he was now outnumbered and set off at a dead run. Rhys and Baron gave chase through the seedy back streets of the hoody neighborhood.
“Baron, keep up and follow the blood trail,” Rhys shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted ahead.
Baron looked down and sure enough the demon was gushing its sick, glowing blood all over the street, which meant it wasn’t going to be able to hold onto its glamor for more than a few more minutes.
“Right behind you.” What the hell have I gotten myself into? This wasn’t the first time he’d asked himself that question in the last few weeks.
The past month hadn’t been boring. And he’d definitely learned some things from Rhys, as promised. Baron had spent countless hours in the gym training, in the library reading and on the streets, in order to become familiar with and prepare himself for the world that Rhys inhabited—a world that thankfully remained hidden from most humans due to the efforts of Rhys and others like him.
Immortals.
At first, Baron had found it impossible to digest all that Rhys tried to tell him—until he’d seen firsthand the demons the Immortal had been fighting for hundreds of years.
One of the most common types of demon—watchers—liked to masquerade in human form, and though they tried, Baron didn’t think the effect was entirely believable. There was a plastic, kewpie doll look to them, like a freak-show carnival mask, and if you paid close enough attention, the eyes gave them away every time, with their red glassy tinge.
And they smelled like death. They tried covering it up with perfumes, but that just made it worse. It reminded him a little bit of the first time he went to a funeral. He’d been thirteen. It had been August, and when he walked into that room to pay his respects to Uncle Bob, the scents had assaulted him. Flowers and powders and air fresheners. The mingling perfumes and colognes wafting from the mourners crowded into the pews. The smell of sweat and tears. And underneath it all had been that dead smell. The stink of formaldehyde and embalming fluids and rapidly decaying flesh. It had gotten stronger as he’d gotten closer to the body.
This was the same but worse. Much worse.
Baron was still lagging behind. He picked up the pace as he saw Rhys deftly maneuvering the demon off the street and into an alleyway. Good, this was going to go down much easier if they didn’t have to worry about the public getting an eyeful.
Baron was surprised they’d caught this pair of demons hanging out in such a public place. But lately the demon population had been getting bolder. Rhys said there were more of the bastards venturing out among the public than ever before. Baron thought it was highly possible that whatever had killed Rhys’ partner Duncan was feeling pretty cocky right about now, and just maybe the other demons had decided the Immortals weren’t so dangerous after all.
That would be their downfall.
While these assholes were patting themselves on the back for taking out an Immortal, Rhys was hunting. They were in for quite a fight. The warrior was hazardous, and Baron was soaking it all in. Learning as much as he could as quickly as he could.
Baron had seen enough in these past weeks to dispel any doubts he might still have harbored about Rhys’ sanity. The dude was demented, but he was also right most of the time, and he’d kept Baron alive often enough this month to have earned his loyalty and respect.
They’d been tracking this particular pair of demons for two nights. Human bodies had been strewn in their path like bloody red flags, and they’d doggedly followed the evidence until finally coming to this dank part of town.
* * * * *
About ten blocks from her apartment, Amy started to panic. She scanned the shadows for anything sinister looking, but of course everything seemed sinister at this time of night.
Startled by a muffled scuffling noise as she walked past a particularly dark alley, she quickened her step. She was almost past when the unmistakable sound of something hard striking flesh reached her from the dark depths. A harsh groan had her stopping abruptly in her tracks.
Damn.
Squinting into the inky darkness, she tried to assess the situation, but couldn’t see a damn thing. Looking around she knew she would have no help. No one else was going to stick their neck out for the poor soul in there getting his ass kicked and probably being mugged too.
She flipped open her purse and reached inside for her cell phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed 911.
“Come on, come on.” It was taking a ridiculously long time for someone to answer what was supposed to be an emergency line. Three rings. Four rings.
Finally she was connected. She hurriedly recited the situation to the operator and was advised that there was an officer not far from the area who was already being radioed and dispatched to provide assistance.
“Could you ask him to hurry? I think someone’s been hurt.”
“The officer is on his way, ma’am, but it may be a few more minutes. Stay clear of the area and don’t put yourself in any further danger,” replied the operator in a practiced voice.
Amy was content to wait for the police officer to come and take care of things, until she heard the loud crack of a gunshot. The thunderous sound resonated out of the alley and off the dank walls of the rundown building. She recoiled as if she herself had been shot, her mind sending warning pulses through her body. Run.
Oh God.
She tamped down the flight reflex and looked around, but no one rushed outside to see what was happening, and she couldn’t blame them. It might not have shown a lot of compassion for their fellow man, but they were smart to stay tucked inside their homes.
Run!
But how could she go now when someone in there needed a doctor’s help?
In what was surely going to be the single dumbest thing she’d ever do, especially if she managed to get herself killed in the process—
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God…” Amy took a deep breath and entered the alley.
Damn. She just had to leave the car at home tonight.
Damn. She just had to miss the last bus home.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Though it was much too late, she tried for a modicum of self-preservation and kept her body flat against the wall of the building as she moved forward.
Obviously there was at least one gun in play, but she was hoping whoever pulled the trigger had already taken off down the back end of the alley, maybe worried about the shot attracting the police.
Unless there was no escape from that direction…in which case she was going to be royally screwed when he ran for the street entrance and barreled straight into her.
That fear caused a heavy bead of sweat to dribble from her forehead into her eyes. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she ignored them. The thought of someone bleeding to death here in this dank dark place was enough incentive to keep her moving forward.
She cautiously neared the scene, fingers scraping the rough brick as she continued to repeat her mantra of curses. She approached a dumpster overflowing with trash from the adjoining Chinese take-out place. Crouching behind it, she prayed she was hidden from sight.
Taking a breath and trying not to gag on the rank smell of garbage, she peered around the edge. Slapping a shaking hand to her mouth, she tried not to let out a sound but the urge to scream was hard to stifle. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, especially given the shocking scene playing out
in front of her.
Two fearsome-looking men faced each other, one of them holding a gun. A third was crouched on the ground. He grabbed something from under his pants leg, seemingly unconcerned about the blood streaming from a wound in his shoulder. As she watched he pulled a long knife and threw it end over end right at the man with the gun.
She couldn’t tell who the bad guys were.
The knife struck its target, the sound a thick, echoing wallop. A horrible shriek ripped through the air. Hysteria bubbled up in her throat. Oh my God. The screeching howl echoed like nails raking over a chalkboard.
That sound couldn’t possibly be coming from a human set of vocal cords. She fisted her hand to her mouth, choking back her scream.
The gun fell to the ground and the man reached to pull the knife from his stomach. He was still wailing horribly and she silently begged to wake up, for the nightmare to end, but her pleas went unheard.
A moment later the screaming man started tearing at his eyes, raking his cheeks with long, talon-like fingernails, almost as if he were trying to peel offhis own face. And as impossible as it seemed, that’s exactly what was happening. Amy felt her gorge rise and fought to tamp it down.
In a blinding green flash of light, the howling man…distorted. Her brain couldn’t process what she was seeing. He seemed to turn from a flesh and blood person to a growling, roaring monster.
The thing standing there now was about the size of a large bear on its hind legs, but there were scales all over its body, shimmering green. The color you expect slime to be. Its snout was longer than a bear’s and pointed, with wicked jagged teeth protruding from its mouth, like a…a dragon?
What the hell was in the air? Could she have inhaled some kind of drugged smoke?
One of the men—neither dragon-shaped nor injured—was now desperately fighting the monstrous one. As soon as it changed, it had lunged for the guy’s throat with unbelievably long teeth, making scary chomping noises as it attempted to tear him to tiny bloody bits.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
This was definitely not what she thought she was going to find when she came down this alley.
Gang members, yes.
Muggers, probably.
Crazy shrieking man-monsters, definitely not.
From her position behind the dumpster, she tried to see where the gun had fallen. Maybe if she could get to it…ah, there it was, right at the feet of the hideous dragon-like creature.
She watched the fight rage. Any minute now, someone was going to spot her. Her fingers clenched tightly in the folds of her coat and her head had begun to pound. Stupid. She was so stupid.
She should have listened to Neil when he tried talking her into getting a gun if she was going to be walking home from the hospital late at night. But just the thought of having such a thing in her possession had given her chills. She didn’t believe in guns. As a doctor, she knew only too well what devastation they caused, knew that owning one was like bringing a ticking time bomb into the home.
This was a classic case of “never say never”. At the moment she was seriously considering changing her perspective on the issue.
The injured man was still crouched on the ground, one hand grasping his arm, which was steadily dripping blood. That got her attention. Here was something she could do.
Pulling herself together, she rushed over and whipped off her jacket. She knelt before him in the slimy gutter, and pulled his arm to her. She noted the entry and exit wounds from the scorched holes in his leather coat.
“What the—?” He started to pull back but she held on firmly. She kept her head lowered, her gaze on her task.
“I heard the gunshot outside the alley and I’ve called the cops. They’re already on their way.” She forced her voice into a tone similar to that of the calm 911 operator earlier, even though she was the most terrified that she’d ever been. Turning to glance behind her, she added, “Hopefully very soon.”
He tried jerking away again and muttered a pained curse at the effort. “Serves you right.” She pulled him back, efficiently twisting her lightweight jacket into a temporary dressing over the bleeding holes in his arm then tying it off. Hopefully it would stem the blood until they could get out of here.
“We need to get you to a hospital. I think the bullet passed all the way through, but you’ll need some serious stitches.”
He frowned up at her like she was speaking a foreign language.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, or what the hell that thing is.” She shook her head. “Don’t tell me because I’m going to chalk this whole thing up as a nightmare if I manage to get out with my life. But you know, I really don’t think the cops are going to be prepared for this.”
“Get out of here, lady, unless you’re looking to get killed.” Rhys kept one eye on Baron, who was still hacking away at the demon.
What idiocy would compel a woman to run into a dangerous alley in the dead of night, after hearing a gunshot? She was either tremendously brave or incredibly brainless…most likely a bit of both.
”Hey! Give me a hand over here would you!” Baron was trying to stab the thing with a long-bladed knife.
The demon took a long swipe with its sharp claws and Baron ducked, avoiding getting his throat sliced open by less than an inch.
Rhys spared a quick glance at the woman, who had turned her attention to the spectacle Baron was making of the situation. He stood and firmly pushed her behind him, against the wall of the alley.
“Hey—!” She tried slipping out from behind him but he pressed back, using his body to make her stay put. She pummeled his back and pushed at his waist but he ignored her and pulled his Glock from the holster under his arm. He could feel her every curve squirming against him. It would have been an interesting position if he wasn’t currently distracted by more pressing concerns.
Rhys calmly took aim. “Baron, get out of the way.”
As soon as Baron jumped back far enough, Rhys pulled the trigger. A clean shot that sent a slug right into the demon’s black heart. In the next instant it dematerialized and the alley was quiet once again.
Rhys sighed and pulled back his heavy leather jacket to replace the gun.
Baron swiped a hand across his forehead. “Since when do those bastards pack heat? I thought they were all about the personal touch.”
Rhys shrugged in response.
“Bad?” Baron nodded toward Rhys’ arm.
“No. The cops have been called.” He motioned to the bundle still crowded behind him. “They’ll be here any minute, so we’ve got to move.”
Baron glanced at the woman, then back at Rhys. “What are we going to do about that?” He nodded in her direction. She gasped and renewed her struggles.
At least if she’d gotten herself killed he wouldn’t have had to worry about what he was going to do with her now. He turned toward her with a groan.
Holy shit.
It was his first real look and he knew immediately who she was. Hell, how could he not? She’d been moonlighting in his dreams for weeks.
“Shit,” he said, “Amy—”
The sound of her name on his lips startled Amy and she tripped backward over her own feet, falling ass-first into a puddle of rank, murky sludge.
She didn’t notice. Too busy staring up at him.
He and his partner were complete opposites. Day and night. Sunshine and rain. Heaven and hell. The blond looked like a Greek god, with his golden hair and boyish features. Whereas there was nothing boyish about him. He was dark, dangerous, lethal.
He was built like a freakin’ brick wall, which she had noticed, having been pressed up against him. He had been hard, immovable and so strong.
Damn. There wasn’t anything soft about him anywhere—and there wasn’t anything friendly about him either. She could see his face clearly for the first time, and that frightened her even more. This man didn’t look for trouble—he was the very definition of trouble. His expression was grim and severe and it prob
ably hurt for him to smile—that jaw would crack right apart if he tried.
And yet she also found him stunning. In a harsh, wild, supremely masculine kind of way. You wouldn’t find him on the cover of a magazine, that was for sure. If anything his face would be on a wanted poster.
Chiseled cheekbones gave way to a firm square jaw and his nose looked like it had been broken more than once, but it was his eyes that were truly remarkable. There was something very compelling about them. She had to fight the impulse to let them draw her in, to drift in their depths. Her mouth went dry and her chest felt tight—too tight for her to breathe.
How did he know my name? Amy was sure she’d never seen him before in her life.
She forced herself to breathe normally. She needed to get out of here, to put some distance between her and these men before they could decide witnesses were expendable. But her arm was gripped tightly before she’d gone more than two paces.
“You’re going to have to come with us.” The breathing brick wall pulled her along behind him as he moved toward the mouth of the alley. The blond had gone ahead and was already out of sight.
Amy struggled. She got in a few solid kicks. She scratched, she bit—anything to get him to loosen his grip, but nothing worked. With a firm hold on his wrist she twisted, maneuvering out of his grasp, twisting his arm behind his back and bending it high.
Repositioning herself to add leverage to her hold, she yanked his arm up farther, forcing him to pitch forward or suffer a broken arm. Amy had learned from her sensei that much of self-defense was taking your opponent by surprise, which she had accomplished with her Aikido move. But she wouldn’t get another chance.
