Daemon Persuasion

by S. K. Gregory

  Mackenzie didn’t know whether to move or not. She sat up waiting for any sign of trouble. When Taryn didn’t return right away she went looking for him. He was standing by a window in the back.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Nothing, just a few drunks.”

  She looked out the window to see three men stagger by, talking loudly to each other.

  “Is it always going to be like this?”

  “Not if you kill Lucien. Once it’s done, you can go back to your life.”

  “You’re forgetting the police.”

  “I told you, the body will disappear, there won’t be any evidence. They can’t touch you.”

  “You’re always so absolute aren’t you? There’s never any room for doubt. Well I have serious doubts about everything.”

  She turned away from him and he shoved her in the back. She swung a right hook at his head. He raised an arm and blocked her.

  “Where do you think that fighter’s instinct comes from? You say you can’t do it, that you’re not strong enough but you took down a Greco today. You’re not helpless.”

  “What the hell is a Greco?” And I never said I was helpless,” she argued.

  “The demon you fought is called a Greco. Big and dumb, they are mostly used for their brute strength.” He paused waiting for her say something.

  “Trust me I know what I am capable of. My last boyfriend, Ramone, found that out the hard way. One night we were drunk, got into an argument and I accidentally summoned the Shadow. It threw Ramone from a second story window. He ended up with a piece of glass embedded in his leg and he nearly bled to death. Needless to say our relationship was over. But despite that, even now when I’m in trouble my first instinct is to call the Shadow for help. What does that make me?”

  “Resourceful. And it’s Shadows not Shadow. You wouldn’t call the same one every time.”

  “Doesn’t matter, the end result is the same.”

  He sighed, “We should get some sleep.”

  They stretched out on the cardboard. Mackenzie curled up under his coat. She wondered if her mom was okay and when she would be able to see her again. Surely, they wouldn’t put her back in prison now. Not after a suicide attempt. They would probably put her in a psychiatric hospital for a while first. A hospital wouldn’t have as much security as a prison.

  “Taryn?”

  “What?” he muttered.

  “I’ll do it. I’ll stop Lucien, but I want something from you in return.”

  “Like what? My undying gratitude?”

  “I was thinking of something more along the lines of you helping me break my mother out so we can leave the country together. She won‘t survive prison much longer.”

  He was silent while he considered it. She expected him to argue, to say it couldn’t be done.

  “Okay.”

  “That’s it? Just okay?”

  “Kill Lucien, I’ll help your mother. It’s a deal.”

  Mackenzie stood outside Klaus’ Garage while Taryn picked up the rest of the things Klaus was to get for him. He refused to let her come inside in case she said anything to upset the old man. She had plenty of things she would love to say.

  Being at the garage made her remember her bike. The last she heard it was going to cost her close to a grand to get it fixed. Maybe she could go down to the local maternity ward, snatch a couple of newborns and Klaus would do it for free, she thought bitterly.

  Taryn walked out with a duffel bag over his shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Can we stop somewhere and get some food? And maybe some clean clothes, although I don’t know from where since I have no money on me.”

  “I don’t use money, demons usually want paid in something else.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. “But Cray said it was better to carry some just in case.”

  Mackenzie took the money and counted it, “Some? Taryn there’s three thousand dollars here.” A couple walking by gave her a surprised look. She quickly hid the money in her pocket. It wasn’t a good idea to wave it about.

  He shrugged, “Cray has more hidden all over the place. Knock yourself out.”

  “I can have it?”

  “If you want.”

  “Great, then meet me back here in an hour,” she walked off.

  “Kenzie?” Taryn called after her. It was the first time he had said her name or rather a nickname. Most people called her Mac, but she could live with Kenzie.

  “Yeah?”

  “Try to keep a low profile,” he warned.

  She grinned at him.

  Ninety minutes later, she drove up on her bike with a new leather jacket and fresh clothes. She tossed Taryn the spare helmet, “Hop on.”

  “I’m not getting on that with you driving.”

  “I’m a good driver.”

  “Didn’t you total it?”

  “No, your asshole brother did. I’m not walking everywhere, so get on.”

  He relented, “Head west.” He climbed on the back.

  “You better hold on,” she called. He put his hands on her waist. With back tire squealing, she took off, causing him to grab her waist tighter. She weaved in and out of traffic opening up the throttle, finally feeling some of the tension leave her body.

  They left the city. Mackenzie followed Taryn’s directions wondering where they would end up this time. After driving for a couple of hours, Mackenzie stopped at a gas station. A silver Porsche was driving away as they pulled in. The gas station, surrounded by dense woods, reminded her of postcard pictures she’d seen of gas stations along Route 66. It wasn’t in bad shape now, just had the look of something old.

  “Where exactly are we headed?” Mackenzie asked, climbing off the bike. She unscrewed the cap on the tank and filled it up.

  “I know someone who is willing to let us stay with them until Friday. An old...friend.”

  “Okay, do they know what’s going on?”

  “No, and they don’t need to.”

  She finished filling the tank and went in to pay for it, grabbing some drinks for the both of them along the way. The gas station was quiet. The attendant, a man in his early thirties wore a navy shirt with the gas station logo on the left breast pocket, was slumped over the counter, probably hung over.

  She set the drinks in front of him, “Gas on pump three.”

  He didn’t respond. His head was leaning on his hand and his eyes were closed. A thin trail of saliva was running down his stubble-covered chin.

  “Hello? Dude, customer service,” she said loudly. Still no response.

  “What is wrong with you?” she snapped.

  She leaned in close. He wasn’t moving at all. He wasn’t even breathing. She pushed his shoulder with two fingers. He slumped forward onto the counter, his head hit it with a thump and then slid onto the floor.

  Breathing hard, Mackenzie backed away from the counter. She was aware of how silent this place was. Deathly silent. She looked around waiting for an attack. Moving slowly away from the counter, her foot bumped into a shelving unit and she spun around to defend herself. There was no one there.

  She hurried outside, “Taryn, come quick,” she cried.

  He was leaning against the bike and his head whipped up when she called. “What is it?” he said as he ran towards her.

  “He’s dead. The gas station attendant, he’s just dead.”

  Taryn went inside the store to look.

  I am not going back in there, she thought. No way. For the first time she noticed the crows, silent sentinels, soulless black beady eyes watching her every move. Without warning, they rose into the air, the flurry of black wings loud in the silence. In spite of her determination, being inside with Taryn and a dead man was better than being out here alone.

  “Well?” she called to Taryn. He was bent down examining the body.

  Stepping up to the counter, she forced herself to look over. When Taryn stood up something crunched under his foot.
He picked up a crushed lipstick from the floor.

  “Is that yours?” Mackenzie quipped. Now she wasn’t alone, she felt stupid for freaking out.

  “Shut up.”

  She snatched the lipstick out of his hand for a closer look. “Mystique,” she said reading the name. She pulled off the lid to find a dark purple lipstick.

  “I take it our killer is a woman because it doesn‘t seem like his color,” she commented.

  Taryn looked worried.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. We should go.”

  Mackenzie pocketed the lipstick as she followed him out. She felt bad for the gas attendant but they couldn’t exactly call the police about it. Someone would find him eventually. As they crossed the forecourt to the bike she stopped walking.

  “Wait. What about fingerprints?”

  “What about them? I’m not in any database,” Taryn said.

  “I am. Wait here.” She ran back inside and using her sleeve began wiping down the counter and anywhere else she had touched. Better safe than sorry, especially with O’Donnelly on her trail. Once she was satisfied she left, flipping the closed sign on the way out.

  Another twenty miles took them to a set of wrought iron gates with carved gargoyle heads mounted on them. Mackenzie stopped the bike and Taryn got off to press the intercom button.

  She couldn’t even see a house. The driveway, which curved around to the right, was lined with tall pine trees.

  Taryn announced himself and the heavy gate creaked open. Mackenzie walked the bike up the driveway. When they rounded the corner, she found a huge cabin built into the side of the hill. Windows surrounded the front, providing an excellent view of the driveway and the hills beyond. At any other time, the wrap-around front porch would have been cozy and inviting. There were two cars parked in the driveway. One was a black Range Rover and the other a silver Porsche.

  A woman in her fifties with a heavily made up face was waiting at the front door for them. Her brown hair was pulled tightly in a bun, making the corners of her eyes turn up.

  “Aunt Frances,” Taryn said.

  “I thought you were dead, boy,” she said coldly.

  “Apparently not.”

  “I suppose you had better come inside.”

  A young woman walked out of the house. She looked like a supermodel with olive skin, long dark hair and an impossibly tight green dress.

  “Oh yes, your cousin is here,” Frances said.

  The model stalked up to Taryn and slapped him in the face.

  “Nice to see you too, Nadine.”

  Chapter 18

  Mackenzie sat in the living room sipping tea that the housekeeper had offered her. She could hear arguing from the other side of the house between Taryn, Frances and Nadine. Their family reunion wasn’t going as planned. Maybe she was better off without one.

  She finished her tea. Bored, she looked around the room. The furniture was pricey, there was a fifty-inch plasma on the wall and the bookshelves were filled with foreign titles. Apparently none of the demons had to worry about money. This woman was obviously loaded.

  She wondered what the slap had been about. Putting her ear to the door, she tried to hear what they were saying. She leapt back as the door opened. Nadine smirked at her with her dark purple lips.

  “And who are you?” she drawled.

  “An acquaintance of Taryn’s,” she replied.

  Taryn appeared in the hallway, “Come on Kenzie, I’ll show you your room.”

  Mackenzie brushed past her, “I think this belongs to you.” She tossed her the lipstick. Nadine caught it, an evil grin on her face.

  “She killed the gas attendant didn’t she?” she asked, when they were out of earshot.

  “More than likely.” He opened a door to a large bedroom which contained a four poster bed and an en- suite bathroom.

  “What is she?”

  “Not someone you want to mess with. Stay out of her way.”

  “But what is she?” She sat down on the bed.

  “Dangerous. In fact, I think you should stay in this room for now.”

  She started to protest but he had already left. She opened a sliding door that led out onto a balcony. There wasn’t much of a view, mostly trees, but it was good to breathe fresh air after being in the city. Looking down over the driveway, she could see Nadine’s Porsche and for a second, she was tempted to drop something heavy on it.

  At dinnertime, the housekeeper brought her a tray of food but Nadine popped her head around the door.

  “Don’t be silly, our guest can eat downstairs with us. Won’t you?” she tilted her head smiling broadly. Mackenzie got the feeling she was being mocked.

  “Of course.”

  Nadine took her arm and led her out of the room. She had changed out of her green dress into a slinky red one.

  I bet she doesn’t even own sweats. Mackenzie followed her downstairs. Nadine led the way to the dining room. A table large enough to seat sixteen graced the room, a crystal chandelier hung overhead. Frances and Taryn were already seated, deep in discussion.

  “Did I miss anything?” Nadine asked, taking a seat beside Taryn. He looked uncomfortable with her choice and leaned away from her.

  “I hope it’s okay, Nadine said I could join you for dinner,” Mackenzie said.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Take a seat,” Taryn said.

  Frances didn’t speak but her face spoke volumes. She didn’t want Mackenzie in her home.

  The housekeeper served dinner of smoked salmon, salad and a vegetable Mackenzie had trouble identifying. They ate in awkward silence for a while.

  “And what is it that you do, Mackenzie?” Frances asked.

  “I work in a bar,” she replied, knowing that any answer she gave would be met with distain.

  “Yes, but what do you plan to do?”

  Mackenzie shrugged, “I studied law at college but I had to drop out. I couldn’t afford to stay.”

  Frances’ raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

  “We can’t all be as lucky as you when it comes to money,” Mackenzie said.

  Frances’ jaw tightened.

  “So, how did you and Taryn meet?” Nadine interrupted.

  Mackenzie glanced at Taryn unsure of how to answer.

  “We’re working on a project together,” Taryn said.

  Nadine stared Mackenzie down, her eyes taking in everything, making her feel like a fly caught in a web. She tried to ignore her.

  Finally, Nadine broke her death stare and draped herself over Taryn, whispering something in his ear. Mackenzie’s stomach turned over. At first, she thought it was anger but there was something else there as well. Jealousy? That was ridiculous. She dismissed it immediately.

  She picked at her food, wishing dinner was over. It reminded her of meal times with her foster families, feeling like an outcast with small talk over the pot roast, discussing subjects she knew nothing about, and counting the minutes until she could retreat to her room away from them all.

  Taryn shrugged Nadine off.

  As if reading her thoughts, Taryn said, “It’s getting late, maybe we should all call it a night,” He got up from the table.

  “Thanks for an incredibly awkward dinner,” Mackenzie said, getting up as well. She followed Taryn out into the hallway.

  “I told you to stay in your room,” he hissed.

  “I wish I had now. How long do we have to stay here?”

  “Not long, just stay away from them.”

  Mackenzie returned to her room. She had barely touched her meal and now she was starving. The housekeeper came in to turn down her bed.

  “Would it be possible to get a sandwich or something to eat?” she asked.

  “I’ll bring you something up,” she replied.

  “Thanks. I didn’t get your name?”

  The woman looked surprised to be asked, “Marta.”

  “Thanks, Marta.”

  While she waited for her food, Mackenzie checked the r
oom for a phone. She wanted to call the hospital and check on her mother. There wasn’t a phone, but she knew Taryn had his cell phone. She had left her own in her apartment.

  Marta returned with a sandwich.

  “Is Taryn around?” she asked.

  “He and Miss Nadine are ‘talking,’” she said.

  By talking, Mackenzie assumed she meant arguing. The turkey sandwich was delicious but she had trouble enjoying it. She couldn’t sit still. She didn’t know what it was but since she arrived, she had been getting more and more restless. More than usual. She paced the room feeling hot, yet she’d heard no furnace click on.

  Maybe Taryn knew what was going on. She wondered where he was now. It was after eleven, he might be in bed. She didn’t even know which room was his. The urge to go and find him though was overpowering. She opened the bedroom door and froze.

  Across the hall, Nadine and Taryn were kissing passionately. Nadine had her arms wrapped around his neck. His shirt had been ripped open revealing his muscled torso. Soft moans filled the air. Nadine ran her long red nails down his back. She saw Mackenzie watching and grinned at her.

  Mackenzie felt her stomach knot. She stepped back into the room and slammed the door.

  Breathing hard, she went back to pacing. She could feel anger coursing through her but she didn’t know why.

  So what if Taryn was kissing Nadine? Wasn’t she his cousin? Ew. That wasn’t the point. He could kiss whomever he liked. She had absolutely no interest in him, that way. But if that was true then why did she feel like this?

  A cold shower was what she needed. The housekeeper had left a pair of flannel pajamas for her to sleep in. She picked them up and headed for the bathroom.

  I bet Nadine doesn’t wear flannel pajamas. Stop it. I don’t care what she wears or does. Or who for that matter.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Come in.” It was Taryn.

  “Get out,” she replied.

  “That wasn’t what it looked like, before with Nadine,” he protested.

  “It kind of looked like you were making out with your cousin.”

  “Cousin by marriage. Trust me I have no interest in her.”

  “Really? Because it seemed like your tongue was taking a real interest in her throat,” she turned away from him in disgust.