Past Due

by Catherine Winchester

  “You thirsty?” Brad asked her, brandishing a bottle of water. His left arm was tied across his chest with a scarf but he seemed to have the use of his hand.

  Frankie considered telling him to go to hell but finally nodded when she saw that the seal on the bottle was unbroken. And she was thirsty; maybe it was the blood loss.

  He opened the bottle, hissing in pain as he jolted his shoulder, then he held the bottle to her lips while she drank. He then turned to Mark. “You?” he asked.

  Mark nodded as well and Brad repeated the procedure. He then took a small box from his pocket and sprinkled its ashy contents over Mark.

  “What’s that?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. “Why are you being nice to us?” she asked him bluntly. She had shot him, after all. “Why haven’t you killed us?”

  Brad flashed her a grin that showed the true depths of his insanity. It was like looking into evil and Frankie shuddered, then wondered when she’d become so melodramatic. Probably when her life became seriously endangered, she thought.

  “Well he’s the vessel,” Brad pointed to Mark.

  “Vessel?” Frankie had a bad feeling she knew what that was already.

  “My Masters host body. I thought I’d have to order a pizza and use the delivery boy or something but he’ll be much more impressed with a shape shifter.”

  “And us?” Frankie was almost afraid to hear the answer.

  He grinned again, his eyes roaming over her body. “You’re for me,” he explained, as though she’d find the idea appealing. “And my Master will give me the vampire’s life force so I can live for eternity. It can be my reward.”

  “So how long,” she asked, “until all hell breaks loose?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  Frankie shrugged. “Just want to know how much freedom I have left. It’s human nature to want a countdown.”

  He continued to contemplate her for a few more moments, then obviously decided there was no danger in telling. “About an hour. I’ve nearly finished the preparations and then I can begin the ritual.”

  “An hour!” Frankie’s mind was reeling; there was no way it could be so soon, unless… “I thought everything was three days,” she told him. “That you had only a few hours leeway on the timing.”

  He grinned, obviously pleased that she had miscalculated. “For the sacrifices, yeah, but once they were done I just had to give it sixty six hours for the power to build before I can summon him.”

  Frankie’s mind was frantically trying to absorb this information and find a solution. They had one hour.

  Brad laughed and sauntered out of the room. “Later peeps.” He called back to them as the zombie trailed after him.

  They were silent for a few moments, all processing the new timescale.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Could you vamp him?” Frankie asked Josh, though she suspected she knew the answer.

  “No, his mind has been too warped by the demon.”

  “Are you strong enough to change?” Mark asked.

  Josh nodded. “I believe so.”

  Before Frankie could interpret the question, she saw Josh’s body glow faintly before it began to fold in on itself, as though he were shrinking. A few seconds later his clothes were piled where he had sat before.

  Frankie was just wondering if he’d teleported when a black furry head nudged its way out from the neck of his T-shirt.

  Frankie gasped in shock. “You!” she accused.

  The green eyed cat winked at her as it extracted itself from the clothes.

  “You’re a shapeshifter and a vampire?”

  Needless to say the cat didn’t answer, merely turned its back on her and Frankie saw the process in reverse. The tail shortened, the body grew, the fur disappeared and slowly Josh’s human-like form took shape.

  And he might have turned away from her but Frankie was still getting an eyeful. He really was quite beautiful, she admitted to herself as he began pulling his clothes back on.

  Thankfully she was distracted then as she noticed Mark was also changing. His change was taking longer and looked more painful but slowly a very large Newfoundland dog stood before her, dressed in Mark’s clothes.

  During the change the wrist cuffs had fallen off and now he shook its hind legs and the leg shackles slipped off.

  Frankie was still watching as he began to change back but was quickly hauled to her feet by Josh, spun around, and the tape that had held her wrists together was quickly pulled off. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as a few layers of skin went with it.

  “I was a shapeshifter before I became a vampire,” Josh answered her earlier question.

  “Okay.” She had forgotten asking it, in all honesty. “Wait, shapeshifters can’t change their body mass so how can you shrink into a cat?”

  That was where the werewolf myth had sprung from, because so many shifters preferred taking the form of a large wolf or dog. Taking the form of most 200 pound animals, like a panther for example, would cause a panic, but even large dogs were seen as friendly.

  “Like everything else, my shapeshifting ability was improved after I was turned. It’s faster, easier and I can change body mass as well as shape.”

  Mark joined them and Frankie was distracted from her mental detour. They had bigger fish to fry right now. She turned her back to the men, pulled the phone from her bra cup and handed it to Josh.”

  “Well done.” He sounded impressed. She had forgotten that he’d been unconscious when she hid it.

  While Josh called Adam, Frankie and Mark slipped quietly from the room and down the hallway. They paused at the door at the end of the corridor and listened through the peeling wood.

  Their eyes met when they both recognised chanting coming from the other side of the door. This was not good.

  Frankie stepped back from the door and looked around the hallway. It was pretty barren; the walls painted with gloss paint and a few pipes running along the ceiling. She carefully opened the other door off the hallway and looked inside. This looked more hopeful since it was literally crammed with stuff.

  There were boxes lining one wall marked “bibles,” “hymn sheets” and “kitchen.” Looking more closely now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark she could see that this was the kitchen, though the middle of the room was full of stacked chairs and tables.

  Frankie looked for anything that might be used as a weapon. The weedkiller she found would hurt, but not incapacitate. The legs on the tables and chairs were all too firm for her to rip one off. She began opening boxes marked “kitchen” hoping to find a knife. After one box of plates and two of cups and saucers she finally found some utensils and with them, a bread knife. It was better than nothing she supposed, though she would have preferred a meat cleaver.

  She headed back into the hall and saw that Mark had disappeared from the doorway. She was about to panic, thinking they had been discovered when his head popped out of the next room. He looked as relieved to see her as she felt to see him. He gestured for her to come back.

  “What’s happening?” she asked, seeing that Josh was no longer on the phone.

  “The others are coming. They have a coven who believe they can break the traps on the doors and they’ll give us a call when everything’s ready.”

  “Do they have enough time?”

  Josh hesitated. “They will be cutting it close.” He took her hands and pulled them in front of her. She tried to tug away but he held firm. “I just want to look at your wrists,” he assured her.

  Frankie stopped struggling but didn’t really see the point. She couldn’t help looking though. The skin had been ripped off like a blister and small dots of blood and fluid were seeping to the surface of the skin.

  She tried to pull her hands away again since focusing on the injury was making it hurt more but Josh wouldn’t let go.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” she insisted. “I forgot my first aid kit.” She knew he was trying to help but couldn’t resist
the little bit of sarcasm that crept in there. She tried pulling out of his grasp again and this time he let her go.

  “I could heal them for you,” he offered. She looked questioningly at him and saw him jab a finger onto his fangs as they extended from his gums. He held the finger towards her.

  Frankie shook her head. “We need you strong, my wrists will wait.”

  Josh hesitated for a moment then said “Later then,” and popped the finger in his mouth before the pooling blood could drip on the floor.

  Frankie watched, fascinated at the strangely erotic gesture until she realised she was staring and turned away.

  “I’m coming!” Alex insisted.

  “You’ll burn up,” Adam argued.

  “Not if I stay in the shade.” He began rummaging through the hall cupboard and Adam left him to it; he didn’t have time to argue. The witches were meeting them there and he was already running late.

  He ran back into the kitchen, grabbed his keys and headed out of the house. Alex was waiting by the front door, dressed in a heavy overcoat, scarf, gloves, and carrying an umbrella.

  Adam grunted. “Well that’s not conspicuous,”

  Alex ignored him and followed to the car, getting in the back seat and lying down, as far from the sun as he could get.

  After the phone call to say the spell on the doors should be broken in another five minutes, Frankie, Mark and Alex had moved out into the hallway, ready to rush the interior door.

  The chanting was still going strong and Frankie began to hope that this could be finished before any serious damage was done. She checked her watch and estimated they had another three minutes until the others could join them.

  Then the chanting stopped and the silence that followed felt oppressive.

  “He’s coming,” Mark hissed, and both he and Josh prepared to pounce. Frankie gripped the bread knife so hard her hand ached. The second the door opened Mark pounced on Brad while Josh took the zombie. When they cleared the doorway Frankie headed past them into the room to try and stop the spell.

  What she saw brought her up short though. In the centre of the room was what she guessed was an altar and above it was a glowing, pulsing ball of… something. It was a mottled black and green colour and it was growing. The smell it gave off was awful - sulphur and other things she didn’t want to think about.

  Bradley’s voice caught her attention as he spoke from the floor, where he’d landed. “You’re too late, he’s already coming.”

  As Mark picked him up again Frankie prayed that wasn’t true and began to destroy the altar, throwing the candles, bowls and their ingredients against the walls.

  But the pulsing ball continued to grow and almost hum now as she saw it vibrating.

  She heard voices outside, no doubt drawn by the commotion inside but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Just as she was about to try and open the doors the pulsating mass burst with an ear splitting shriek and the front door burst open of its own accord.

  When Frankie turned back, all evidence of the thing above the altar was gone and she hoped for a split second that it was over, that they had won.

  Then Mark screamed and dropped to his knees, holding his head. Frankie realised that whatever had come through was now inside of him, possessing him. She wondered if his soul would survive it.

  She saw Adam and Alex charge into the room but the witches stayed at the door, safely out of the fray. Rightly so, they were only human after all.

  Mark screamed again and Frankie had an idea. A human couldn’t possess another human because the soul fought back. A demon was presumably stronger than a human and could overpower the resident soul, but could it overpower three?

  She glanced around the room and saw that Josh was still fighting the zombie with Alex’s help. Brad lay badly injured in the corner with Adam standing over him.

  Suddenly Alex was hurled into the wall and she called to him before he could be distracted again.

  “Alex” she shouted, dragging him by the arm towards Mark. “Vamp him, try and shore up his strength, help him fight the demon off.”

  Alex understood and stood behind him where he crouched on the floor, placing his hands either side of Mark’s head. Frankie knelt in front and cupped his cheeks. She had never tried anything like this before and had no idea if she would succeed but she had to try.

  She pictured herself inside his mind and physically fighting off the demon with swords. Why, she didn’t know, but that was the mental image she used.

  She didn’t think it was working until suddenly Alex and Mark were fighting beside her.

  The demon, which her mind had cast as a black dragon, fought back, lashing out at them with its teeth, tail and claws. After only a few minutes, Frankie felt like they’d been fighting it for hours. She wondered how long they could keep this up.

  As long as necessary, she told herself. Whatever it took, they couldn’t let this demon win. They wouldn’t.

  She wanted to know what was going on back in the room; was anyone reversing the spell? Was everyone still alive?

  Frankie noticed that both Mark and Alex looked as exhausted as she felt; they were all failing and if this didn’t end soon they would lose.

  That thought gave her another small burst of strength and she lunged at the demon, where she thought its heart might be but her sword struck nothing. The beast was gone.

  The next thing she knew she was flying across the room; landing roughly on the concrete floor. Exhausted, she wanted nothing more than to sleep but she forced her eyes open as she looked at the chaos around her.

  The zombie was broken, literally unable to stand. Frankie hoped the man he had been was well and truly gone, that he wasn’t having to suffer through any of this. Adam was lying on the ground, facing away from her. Alex and Mark were behind her so she couldn’t see them.

  Josh crawled over to Mark and murmured softly to him. Frankie then saw Josh rise slowly to his feet and limp past a man who was kneeling in the middle of the room. Frankie didn’t recognise the man. Maybe he was one of the witches.

  She refocused on Josh as he came towards her and noticed how hurt he was. As well as limping, he was favouring one of his arms and was covered in blood. Her gaze continued up and she flinched when she saw his expression. If vengeance had a face, this is how it would look, she thought.

  Josh’s gaze drifted over her and Mark and his eyes turned so dark she’d almost swear they were black.

  He stepped past them but Frankie didn’t have the energy to turn and watch. She didn’t have to, though, because the next instant he was dragging Brad back with him.

  Frankie watched as Josh hauled Brad to his feet. Battered and bruised as he was, Brad still had enough energy to be terrified and trembled violently as he looked into Josh’s face. Frankie couldn’t blame him since Josh looked completely inhuman in his rage.

  Josh slowly pulled his fist back, enjoying the fear he was creating in Brad but only when Brad finally wet himself did Josh strike him. Frankie heard his neck snap and watched as he fell to the floor, his lifeless eyes looking right at her.

  For Frankie that was the final straw and she closed her eyes and allowed exhaustion to overtake her.

  Frankie woke up alone in Alex’s bed. She felt sore and battered but basically okay. She was also fully dressed which probably meant she hadn't been asleep long.

  Though anxious to find out how the others had fared in the battle, she needed some time to process things.

  It was over, finally. She felt as if this case had been her whole life for months, though in reality it had barely been a week. She felt as though everything should be different somehow and the idea that the world would just carry on as normal around her made her feel lonely.

  Frankie had spent most of her young life wanting to be alone and most of her adult life alone, but she had never felt lonely until now.

  She supposed she would adjust.

  Josh had looked fine. Beaten and badly wounded, but alive. She had st
arted to trust him, to like him even, but the face she had looked into when he killed Brad had been totally alien. The mask had slipped and the monster was showing through.

  He had also watched her shower and seen her naked whilst disguised as a cat. Frankie didn’t know how she felt about any of that, or him, so for the moment she pushed those thought aside.

  She didn’t know how Adam or Mark had fared but she hoped they were both okay.

  Had the demon actually been defeated? Or had it taken over Mark’s mind and expelled her and Alex from it? Maybe this wasn’t over!

  Despite vehement protests from her muscles she flew out of bed and rushed to the living room to see that everyone was there.

  “Frankie,” Josh smiled and got to his feet to greet her. He reached out and ran the back of his fingers down her cheek.

  Alex looked almost apoplectic but he calmed when he saw her flinch.

  Josh stepped back. He looked hurt.

  “How are you?” he asked, formally.

  “I’m fine.” She bushed his concern aside and focused on Mark. “Are you okay?”

  He flashed her a tired version of his trademark easy-going smile and Frankie wondered how he would recover. Having a demon invade your mind couldn’t be very pleasant. “I had a thumping headache for a couple of hours but now I’m fine,” he reassured her.

  Frankie flopped onto the sofa, next to Alex. “What happened?” she asked.

  Alex took her hand.

  “It’s over,” Adam told her. He was seated on the arm next to his brother. Frankie was glad Mark had someone to help him through this.

  “But how is it over, what did I miss?”

  “One of the witches knew a blocking spell,” Adam explained. “When we got there we thought we were too late but when he saw what you and Alex were doing he realised the demon hadn't taken hold yet and closed the portal before the demon completely came through.”

  “And the police?”

  “Dad and Alex altered the memory of the first two officers and the passersby so they remember Brad shouting about killing those women and threatening people until a large nondescript man punched him in the face and broke his neck before running away, scared. With all the satanic crap in there, not to mention another corpse, they’ll close the case and probably try and pin a medal on the imaginary hero.”