by Deanna Chase
I crumpled up the napkin and shoved it in my back pocket along with my vial of holy water, then I retied the drawstring on the sack. I returned it to the case, took a deep breath for courage, then headed up the stairs.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I did know that Larson wasn’t getting those bones. As soon as I got outside the cathedral and got a cell phone signal, I’d call Father Corletti. If he didn’t have Hunters to spare, that was fine. Send the Swiss Guard. But I wasn’t going to back down until those bones were safely out of San Diablo and en route to the Vatican. Eddie could help me guard them in the meantime. Father Ben, too, for that matter; if I had to, I’d even enlist his help.
I burst out of the cathedral at a dead run and ran straight into Laura. “Where’s Larson?”
She pulled herself up short, clearly surprised by the tone in my voice.
“Where is he?” I demanded.
“By the ice-cream stand, I assume,” Laura said. “What’s wrong? The kids will survive a night of really bad food.”
The kids? That didn’t make any sense. The kids? And then—
I grabbed her by the shoulder. “Where are my kids?”
“They’re with Larson.” Her brow furrowed. “Paul came by just like he promised he would, but when he told me couldn’t stay, I was so furious I almost lost it. I didn’t, though, because I was watching the kids, but I think Paul knew I was fuming.”
I made a circle motion with my hand, encouraging her to get to the point.
“That’s when Larson volunteered to take them to get ice cream.” She licked her lips, clearly worried. “He said you okayed it. You didn’t?”
“Oh, no. No, I definitely did not.” I turned in a circle, then raced toward the ice-cream stand, the Lazarus Bones all but forgotten.
Laura raced after me. “What’s going on?” I heard her heavy breathing beside me as we skidded to a stop in front of the booth.
“It’s Larson,” I said. “He’s Goramesh.”
She paled, and I caught her just as her knees gave way. “Oh, God, the kids. Mindy.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “If anything happens to them. To her—“
“It won’t,” I said, my voice like steel.
“What are you going to do?”
“Beat the shit out of him,” I said. At the moment that was the only plan I had. Frankly, I thought it was a good one.
“Mommy, Mommy, Mom.”
We both turned at the sound of the voice. “Mindy,” Laura breathed, the relief in her voice so tangible I could almost touch it.
My relief was tainted by fear for my own kids, who were conspicuously not with Mindy.
“What happened?” I said.
Her face was pressed to Laura’s chest, her arms tight around her mom. But I could see part of her tear-stained face. “He shoved me away,” Mindy said. “And Allie had to stay with him, he said, or else he’d hurt Timmy.”
I closed my eyes, too scared to even pray.
My cell phone rang.
I answered it before the echo of the first ring died out.
“Bring me the bones, Kate,” Larson said.
“Screw you.” I said the words, but my bravado was false.
“Darling Kate,” he said. “Let me put this in words you’ll understand—bring me the Lazarus Bones, or your children are dead.”
“Bastard,” I whispered, but he’d already hung up.
I lashed out, wanting to hit something and finding only Laura. I fell against her, sobbing, as she patted my back and made soothing noises that I know she didn’t really believe.
All along, Larson had been playing a role designed to fool me. But I wasn’t fooled anymore. Larson was Goramesh—a High Demon. The Decimator. And I was truly afraid.
Enough.
I pushed back and wiped my eyes.
“Kate?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I turned away and started back toward the cathedral. Tears spilled down my cheeks, but I knew what I had to do.
These were my kids, after all.
***
I clutched the cloth bag tight as I raced back up the basement stairs, my mind churning. I should have known. Should have seen the clues. They were all there. His hesitancy to enter the cathedral. His constantly chewing mint-flavored gum. His strength when we fought in the courtyard. His ability to recognize another demon—and to throw a knife so straight and true.
It had been the holy water that had won me over.
But now, as I passed the receptacles, I realized how even that illusion had been easy for him. A demon can enter holy ground even though it pains him. The pillars of holy water are a long way from the sanctuary and its sainted, impenetrable mortar. Goramesh would have simply knocked over the bowls and refilled them with tap water. I recalled the puddle on the floor before our meeting and knew I was right.
There were other clues, too. I didn’t want to research, but he’d convinced me. And I’d agreed to up the ante if there was any sign of demons infiltrating San Diablo. That night Todd Greer paid a little visit. I’d called that a sign. It was a sign, all right—I’d just read it wrong. Larson had ordered the hellhound to kill Todd Greer so a demon could move in and convince me to do Larson’s research. And then Larson killed the demon in the alley to reinforce his position as one of the good guys.
What a crock.
And then there was Eddie. Larson had been the one who’d “discovered” Eddie’s presence here. And no wonder. He’d brought Eddie here himself. I had to meet Eddie, because Eddie was the only one who knew what Goramesh wanted. I’d even bet that Larson ordered the drugs decreased so that Eddie would be able to think more clearly—all the better for him to tell me the truth once he decided he trusted me.
And why not trust me?
I was another Hunter, and even I didn’t know that I was bait.
Larson had even fueled my fears about Stuart, probably hoping that pointing me in that direction would keep my mind away from considering him too closely. It had worked, too.
With a foul-mouthed curse, I burst through the cathedral doors. The clues were academic now. All that mattered was getting my kids back.
The descending sun cast long shadows on the ground, giving the world a surreal quality that matched my mood. I shaded my eyes with my hand and scanned the grounds, but I didn’t see any sign of Laura or Eddie.
I flipped open my cell phone and started to dial Laura’s number, but the squeal of rubber against asphalt caught my attention. I leaped backward, realizing that Larson’s Lexus was barreling toward me across the nearly empty parking lot.
It fishtailed, then careened to a halt in front of me. My muscles tensed, ready to pummel him. Between the tinted windows and the distortion from the fading light, I couldn’t see Larson, but I was ready for him. I raced to the driver’s-side door and yanked it open. “Get out of there, you son of a bitch!”
“Mom!”
Not Larson. Allie.
She fumbled for the door and fell out of the car into my arms. I collapsed to the asphalt, holding her against me, crying in earnest now. “Baby, baby, oh baby,” I murmured as she cried. I lifted her chin up, then pushed her away so I could get a good look at her. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
She could barely talk through her tears, but she managed a weak “Timmy.” Ice flowed in my veins as she struggled to say, “I couldn’t get him away. Oh, Mommy, he’s still got Timmy.”
“Was he hurt? Was he okay when you left?” I wanted to lash out, to run, to fight, to do something to make it all better. Adrenaline surged through my body, and I felt a numbing coldness settle over me. A cold practicality. No emotions, Kate. Just get in, do the job, and get Timmy back safe.
“He—he was fine. But I’m scared. Oh, Mom, I’m so scared for him.”
I gritted my teeth. “Where did he take you?”
“The cemetery,” she said, her voice shaky but stronger. “He told us that you’d had to leave and he was taking us for ice cream and then home, but
then he went the other way, and when he got to the cemetery, he called you, and I got so scared.”
“I know, sweetheart. But you’re doing great.”
“He made us get out of the car, but he left the keys. And I got away, just like Cutter showed us.”
My stomach churned. She’d been lucky on that count, surprise acting in her favor. Larson could have easily caught her and snapped her neck. I tugged her toward me and hugged her close one more time, just to feel her whole and unmolested against me. “You did good, baby,” I said. I pulled her up as I climbed to my feet. The car was still idling beside us, and I looked at it grimly.
“Go find Laura and Gramps and tell them what’s going on. Stay with them, okay? Don’t leave them no matter what.”
She nodded, her chin trembling.
I slid behind the wheel. “Where in the cemetery?”
“The big statue,” she said. “The big angel.”
I nodded. I knew the place. It was one of the older corners of the cemetery, far away from the road. “Go,” I said. “Find Laura. It’ll be okay. I promise, I’ll get your brother back.”
She leaned into the car and kissed me. “I love you, Mom,” she said, then ran off across the parking lot toward the fair.
I sighed. I love you, too, baby. And then I gunned it.
***
I didn’t bother using the paved roads through the graveyard. Irreverent, I know, but I just aimed the Lexus toward the southeast corner and floored it. Most of the graves were marked with simple plaques, and I swerved around the interspersed headstones and tombs erected in an earlier age.
The angel loomed in front of me, and I swerved to a stop, the back of the car slipping on damp turf.
Larson sat calmly at the angel’s feet, my son propped on his knee. “A charming boy,” Larson said. “I’m glad you came. I wouldn’t have enjoyed killing him.” He flashed me a menacing grin. “That was a lie. I think I’d enjoy it very much.”
I stood ramrod straight, my hands fisted at my sides. “Give me my son.”
“Give me the bones.”
I hesitated.
“I’ll do it, Kate. You should know by now that I won’t even think twice. But there’s something I want more than the pleasure of drawing his blood. Give me the bones and I’ll give you the boy.”
I held out the bag.
“Smart girl.” He turned slightly, then called out, “Doug. The bag, please.”
A withered old man stepped out from behind the angel. He plodded toward me, then took the bag. I tensed, recognizing his face. The last time I’d seen Doug he’d been playing chess in the Coastal Mists Nursing Home.
I looked up at Larson. “Bastard.”
“Nonsense. Doug has gone on to the next plane. Why shouldn’t we utilize his body? It would only go to waste. So much waste there at the home,” he said, his voice almost wistful. Then he looked me in the eye, his gaze full of malice. “Don’t worry. The waste will be much less from now on. Much, much less.”
“Not if I can help it.”
“But you can’t. Poor Kate, you can’t even help yourself.”
“Give me my son.”
“But of course.” He stood, then put Timmy on the ground. “I can be generous, too,” he said as my baby ran toward me.
“You’re going to die, Goramesh,” I said. “I’m going to send you back to Hell.”
“Big talk,” he said. “And why would you do that, anyway, after all you’ve done to help me? Without you, Eddie would never have revealed the truth. Without you, I could never have breached the cathedral sacristy.”
I didn’t say a word, just hugged my baby tight.
“Will you stay, then? Stay and witness the rising of my army? I promise your end will come swiftly.”
“I’ll stay,” I said. “I’ll stay and stop you.”
“You’re out of practice, Kate. Have you forgotten that I’ve sparred with you? I know you. And I will not be defeated.”
“When did Larson die? How did you even get here?”
He laughed then, with such mirth it actually startled me out of my red hot fury. “Dead? Whoever said Larson was dead?”
“But …oh, God.”
“He has nothing to do with it. Larson is in here, with me. He has been most cooperative. He will be rewarded.”
“Why?”
“Cancer,” he said, his voice now pitched slightly higher. “Why succumb when Goramesh could offer me so much more than death. And then, when I learned about the Lazarus Bones from my Hunter in Italy, well, then I had something to bargain with. Goramesh wanted the bones. I wanted to live.”
“You’re going to die tonight.”
“No, Kate. It’s you who will die. This part of me is sorry about that. I do like you. Once upon a time, I even liked working for Forza. But it was never about the work. Not for me.”
“Black arts,” I said, remembering. “You were studying the black arts. And Father Corletti never realized—”
“Don’t blame the priest,” he said. “I can be most persuasive when I want. Now, of course, I’m both persuasive and powerful.” He drew in a breath, his chest expanding. His skin seemed to ripple, like the surface of a pond, and beneath the ripples I saw the true demon, red and black and teeming with worms, its glowing eyes burning with hate.
I blinked, and the vision faded, the acrid smell of sulphur the only clue that it had been real.
Timmy smelled it, too, and started squirming in my arms as he whimpered. “Hush, baby,” I said. “It’s almost over.”
“Indeed,” Goramesh said. “Stay, Kate. Stay and watch.”
Since I had no intention of leaving without first laying waste to Goramesh, I stayed rooted to the spot, Timmy tight in my arms.
Goramesh moved away from the angel to stand on a relatively fresh grave. He spread his arms and looked down at the earth, then began to spew out Latin and Greek, his words coming too fast and furious for me to understand.
I didn’t need to understand the words, though, to figure out what was going on. That was clear enough. And when he tugged open the bag and reached in for a handful of powder, I tensed. I was too far away to do anything yet, but I put my hand in my back pocket anyway, just so the holy water would be at the ready.
He sprinkled the powder over his body, the incantation coming faster and faster. He reached the end, spreading his arms and shouting “Resurge, mortue!” That one, I knew. He was commanding the dead to rise.
I held my breath, waiting. The graves didn’t tremble. The dead didn’t rise.
I’d known they wouldn’t, and I couldn’t help but smile as I pushed Timmy gently behind me, the vial now in my hand.
“It’s over, Goramesh,” I said. “You’re history.”
“Little fool,” he spat. “What have you done?”
I didn’t answer. I knew he’d realize soon enough exactly what I’d done.
“Bitch!” he howled, his face contorting in pain. I grinned. And so it began.
As I watched, his skin began to blister and his hair fell in clumps to the ground. He screamed, the sound coming straight from the bowels of Hell.
“What have you done? What have you done to me?”
“Not me,” I said. “The Blessed Mary Martinez, one of San Diablo’s five martyrs. May she soon reach sainthood.”
His skin bubbled and popped, and I gagged against the smell of sulphur. Mary wasn’t a saint yet, but she’d been beatified. I knew that her remains wouldn’t kill him, but he was in pain, and I hoped that gave me all the advantage I needed.
I opened the vial and lunged.
“Get her!” he cried, and Doug barreled into me. I fell to the ground with an oof, and the holy water vial went flying, shattering against a gravestone, but doing no harm to Doug or Larson. As Doug grappled for me, I lashed out with my legs, trying to pry the spry octogenarian off of me.
He clung fast, though, and I knew that Goramesh would recover soon and come help. Two against one—especially when a High Demon was
part of the equation—was not good odds.
As Timmy’s screams rang in my ears, I twisted sideways, managing to get on top of Doug. He grappled for me, his clammy fingers brushing my neck. I dodged away, scrambling to grasp a nearby twig.
My fingers closed around it just as his hands closed around my neck. But it was too late. I knew I’d won, and I drove the twig home.
Doug sagged, and that was the end of that.
I leaped off of him, ready to tackle Goramesh, my fury fueling my confidence. My victory was short-lived. When I turned, I’d expected to see the demon. Instead, I saw my baby, Larson’s arm tight around his neck. The dust had finished its work, and now he was oozy and gross, but no longer distracted by the pain of burning flesh.
“You fool!” he shouted. “You think you can best me? You think you can trick me? This boy is going to die here, Kate. Bring me the bones and maybe I’ll bring him back for you.”
He shifted and I lunged, the reaction purely instinct. “No!” I cried, my voice thick with fear.
I’d barely closed the distance between us when Larson erupted with a guttural howl. Almost simultaneously I realized what had happened.
Timmy had bitten him.
Larson jerked his arm up, releasing his hold on Tim as he struck out with his other hand, sending my baby flying. Timmy crashed to the ground, his little body going limp. I launched myself, tackling Larson with my full weight and sending us both sprawling. He managed to roll on top of me, and as he climbed to his feet, he grabbed my hair, smashing my metal hairclip against my skull as he yanked me to my feet. I winced, but my own pain evaporated when I realized Timmy still hadn’t moved. I drew in a strangled breath, fearing the worst. Larson took advantage, shoving me backward so that the small of my back slammed against the base of the angel statue. I screamed, jerking my leg up and trying to knee him as I twisted. I needed to get free, but his fingers had locked on my forearms like clamps.
He was strong. So strong. And try as I might, I couldn’t break free.
“He’s dead, Kate,” he hissed, his breath foul against my face.
“No.” I couldn’t believe that. Wouldn’t believe it.
