by Lexi George
Dooley wagged her tail and gave the woman a black-lipped grin. “Dooley not chase goose. Dooley chase squirrel.”
“You scared me half to death,” the woman scolded. “How could I face Addy if I lost you?”
Dooley’s ears perked. “Addy? Addy here . . . and Brand Man?”
“No, Dooley. They’re still gone.”
“Gone?” The dog flumped to the wooden floor. “Dooley hate gone. Want Addy and Brand Man home.”
“They’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“Go-oon-ne,” Dooley repeated with a mournful yowl, laying her head on her paws.
“She misses her owner,” the woman said. “I’m Cassie, by the way. I’m dog-sitting for my friend Addy while she’s on her honeymoon.”
“Adara Corwin?”
She smiled at him, her eyes brightening. “Yes, although she’s Addy Dalvahni now. You know her?”
“I am Conall, Brand’s brother.”
Her smile faded. “Oh. You’re a demon hunter.”
“You do not care for my brother?”
“Brand? I hardly know him.” She got to her feet. “I came to see Beck. Since she’s not here, I’ll be on my way.”
“Hold,” Conall said. “You are kith. Why are you not at the meeting?”
“What’s a demon hunter doing in a demonoid bar?”
“That is my affair.”
“Ditto.”
He processed the strange term. Ditto, meaning the same. He clamped down on his impatience. She knew something, something that might affect Rebekah. He felt it in his gut. Something fluttered in his chest, an odd sensation that made his heart race and his thoughts scatter.
Panic, the hateful voice whispered. You fear for the demon wench.
He took a deep breath and willed his galloping pulse to slow. “You came to warn Rebekah of something? If so, you must tell me.”
She hesitated, her dislike and distrust of him plain on her face.
“Please,” he said, pushing the word past his unwilling tongue.
She straightened her shoulders and gave him a challenging look. “I see things sometimes, okay?”
“You are a seer?”
“That’s one word for it,” she said. “I found the invitation this morning in a pile of junk mail. I opened it and this awful smell hit me, like rotting meat. I caught a glimpse of woods and dark shapes and then I went cold. It was like every good thing had been sucked out of the world.” She shivered. “I didn’t want any part of it. I came to warn Beck, but Dooley ran off. Looks like I’m too late.”
Too late. Too late. The words rang in Conall’s head.
His desire to smash things returned in full measure. He drew another deep breath into his lungs. There was something he should remember. Something important . . .
The ring—of course! By the sword, how could he have forgotten? The ring would lead him to her.
Opening his mind, he sought the ring and found it. It showed him a jumble of images—a thick stand of trees, a curl of smoke against the evening sky, a crowd of drunken people. A man and woman shuffled out of the woods, ghoulish and loathsome in appearance.
Demons; and he had sent her among them. Rebekah had the heart of a warrior. She would challenge the fiends and be hurt or killed.
“This meeting,” he said. Calm; he must remain calm. He could not help Rebekah if he gave in to the killing rage. “Can you tell me where it is?”
“I can do better than that. Let me drop Dooley off at the house, and I’ll take you there.”
Dooley sat up and wagged her tail. “Dooley ride? Dooley like ride.”
“Not this time, girl,” Cassie said. “It may not be safe. You’ll have to stay, I’m afraid.”
Dooley flumped back to the floor. “Dooley HATE stay. Stay make Dooley sad.”
“Be a good girl and I’ll cook you a cheese omelet for supper.”
Dooley’s ears lifted. “Dooley like cheese.”
“I know,” Cassie said. “Come on. Let’s get in the truck.”
Seething with impatience and a gnawing sense of urgency, Conall exited the building with them. “Your abode is not far?”
“It’s a little out of the way,” Cassie said. “But I’m not taking D-o-o-l-e-y. If something happened to her, Addy would never forgive me.”
“Addy?” The canine launched into a panting ecstasy about her owner. “Addy, Addy, Addy?”
Conall clamped his jaws together to keep from roaring in frustration. Each passing moment was an agony of worry. Where was Rebekah? What was happening to her? Would he reach her in time?
Was she already dead? His mind recoiled.
“I thank you,” he forced himself to say. He was Dalvahni, an unemotional creature of logic. “I am in your debt.”
“Forget it. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Beck.”
Conall wondered briefly who or what had made this woman so bitter, and pushed the thought aside.
It mattered not. All that mattered was Rebekah.
“Your parents?” Beck shook her head in confusion. “No way.”
The creatures crossing the lawn were thin and wasted, with filthy bodies and clothes, matted hair, and sunken cheeks. Demon-possessed humans, gross caricatures of the people they’d once been, before the fiends twisted and consumed them.
“Not a pretty sight, are they?” Evan spoke without emotion, as though he were commenting on the weather. “They get this way at the end of a cycle. They’ll shed soon, and then it’s not so bad. For a few months, anyway. The morkyn go through bodies pretty quickly, because they’re so powerful.”
“Morkyn?”
He gave her an odd look. “You don’t know much, do you? There are different castes of demons. The morkyn are at the top of the food chain.”
“I know enough to stay away from them, which is more than I can say for you.”
“You think I wanted this?” Evan’s mouth tightened. “They found me in a flop house where our bitch of a mother dumped me. I didn’t have a daddy like you, princess.”
“Princess, my ass,” Beck said. “I was raised in a bar by a man who could hardly stand to look at me.”
Evan laughed. “Please. You had a home and plenty to eat. I’ll bet your mean old daddy never broke your arms and legs or burned you with cigarettes until you begged him to stop. I’ll bet you got to go to school and learn to read and write, instead of running from place to place to avoid the police.” His eyes glittered feverishly in his white face. “I’ll bet he never took you to a crack house and locked you in a room with a dead man for three days while he got high. Did he?” His voice rose. “Did he?”
“No.” Beck wanted to weep for the young Evan, abandoned, unloved, and abused. “He never did anything like that.”
Clasping her trembling hands together, she felt something hard rub against her finger. Conall’s ring; his stern, implacable face rose before her, steadying her.
“H-how old were you?” she asked.
Evan slammed his fist into a porch column. “Six. The guy was already dead when they threw me in with him. He was my first zombie. I was so scared. I just wanted someone to talk to. Instead, he tried to eat me.”
“What did you do?”
Evan laughed. “I learned how to control a zombie in one hell of a hurry, that’s what. I used him to break down the door and I ran. Almost got away, but they caught me. That’s when they—”
He stopped.
“When they what?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“You could have left,” Beck said. “You didn’t have to stay with them all these years. You had a choice.”
“Did I, Cookie?” The rage seemed to leave Evan in a rush, leaving him deflated. Rubbing his bruised knuckles against his thigh, he watched the gruesome twosome approach. “Like I said, you don’t know much.”
Chapter Seventeen
The sun was setting behind the trees, and the temperature had dropped. In spite of the chill, the creepy couple crossing t
he lawn wore summer clothing. The man’s stained, sleeveless shirt hung open to the waist, exposing his emaciated chest and sunken belly. Grimy cargo shorts flapped around his bony knees. The female was dressed in a faded cotton shift. Both of them were barefoot. Bruises and scabs covered their arms and legs, and their hair was greasy and matted. Patches of crusted scalp showed through the woman’s thinning locks, and she dragged one blackened, swollen foot as she walked.
Just like Latrisse, Beck thought with a shudder. All used up.
The drunken kith shouted and followed the hideous creatures like a herd of eager paparazzi at a red carpet event. As if in response to some unspoken command, the crowd halted at a respectful distance as the two demons neared the house.
The couple paused at the foot of the steps and grinned up at Evan with blackened teeth. They were even more horrifying up close, with wobbly, liquid eyes like dark pitch. The odor of spoiled meat assaulted Beck’s nose. Demon-possessed humans stink like a butcher shop Dempsey Dumpster in July, and these two were no exception.
The smell was so awful that Beck had to breathe through her mouth to keep from throwing up. Evan didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he was used to it.
“All is prepared?” The man’s raspy whisper sent a shiver up Beck’s spine.
“Yes, Elgdrek,” Evan said.
Elgdrek’s ghoulfriend was in particularly bad shape. She was no doctor, but Beck suspected the woman’s foot was gangrenous. This pathetic wreck had once been somebody, a teacher maybe; someone’s wife or mother. A beloved daughter, perhaps.
How old had she been when she was taken? No telling; the body was too far gone. Young, though, Beck guessed. In her experience, demons were attracted to youth and vigor. Not much point in possessing an aging body. Why take a used clunker for a joyride when you could steal a brand-new sports car?
What if there was still a spark of human consciousness trapped inside that prison of decaying flesh? Beck didn’t want to think about it.
Charlie Skinner pushed his way out of the horde and swaggered up to the female cadaver. “Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned at the she-monster. “Where you been all my life?”
Gorgeous? Charlie’s words were slurred and he was unsteady on his feet. Drunk or not, there wasn’t enough alcohol on the planet to make this gal passable, much less gorgeous. Charlie’s moonshine wasn’t joy juice, it was psychotropic.
Her theory was confirmed when the female thing grabbed Charlie and gave him a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. Skinner threw himself into the caress to the accompaniment of hoots and catcalls from the onlookers.
Kissing this chick would be like licking a toilet. Charlie was drunk on Crazy Kool-Aid, no doubt about it.
Releasing Charlie, the woman smiled up at him and stroked his big belly. “I am Hagilth,” she said. “Later, we will have sex.”
Charlie flung his arms in the air like he’d won the lottery. “Yee-hah.”
Beck didn’t much like Charlie—okay, she didn’t like him at all—but she felt bad for him. Sex with Old Haggy would be like screwing a maggoty corpse.
Hagilth’s oozing gaze fastened on Beck. “This one is young and pleasing to the eye,” she said with a sickly grin. “You have done well, servant.”
Holy smokes, Haggy thought she was her new ride. Beck’s brain went fuzzy at the thought. Thank heavens she was kith and couldn’t be possessed.
Evan shook his head. “She’s not for you.”
“What?” Hagilth’s face stretched and her mouth widened to the size of a washtub. “You dare refuse me, you insolent pile of rat droppings?”
Evan collapsed to the floor, his body twitching. The tattoos on his throat and hands squirmed and tightened, cutting into his skin like wire. Blood welled from the wounds.
Not tattoos, Beck thought with a ripple of shock. Bindings. He’s their prisoner.
“Not human,” he gasped, clawing at the inky garrote around his throat with a bloody hand. “Can’t h-have . . . not . . . human.”
Hagilth sucked on a lock of her slimy hair. “I see. She is part demon, like you?”
“Yes,” Evan croaked.
“Disappointing,” Hagilth said, releasing him. “I hope you have others, for your sake.”
Evan rolled to his knees, coughing, and staggered to his feet. Blood dripped from his hands and throat, staining the front of his silk shirt. He reeled across the porch and rapped on the door.
“Bring them out, Peterson,” he said. Reaching up, he rubbed his throat with shaking hands. “It’s time.”
“You okay?” Beck asked.
Evan’s mouth twisted. “Feeling sorry for me, Cookie?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t.” He snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the oozing cuts on his hands. “I can take care of myself.”
He sounded just like her, a chip on his shoulder big as Montana. The realization made her squirm.
The door opened and Trey stepped onto the porch. Two young teenagers, a boy and a girl, accompanied him.
The boy was good looking in a high school heartthrob kind of way, with shiny brown hair and long, thick bangs that swept across his brow at a precise angle. The girl was attractive, too, round-faced and smooth-skinned, the girl-next-door type. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pale gold, with the silky texture that didn’t need a flat iron to achieve uniform straightness.
“Where’s the music and the DJ?” The girl looked at Trey with wide, green eyes. “You said this was a rave.”
Hagilth made a horrible snuffling noise. “Juicy,” she said. “Bring them.”
Beck’s stomach clenched. Oh, God, those poor kids. She knew what was coming next.
The girl took one look at Hagilth and started screaming, and the boy bolted. Trey shoved the girl at Evan and went after him.
This was her chance, maybe her only chance, while they were distracted.
Beck leaped over the porch rail and hit the ground in a crouch. Evan shouted something, but Beck’s attention was on the demons. She sprang at Hagilth. Beck was sure she could take her. The bitch couldn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. She’d snap her neck like a twig.
A pair of hard hands closed around her waist and yanked her back. She caught a flash of pink; Meat Hooks. The guard tucked her under one arm like so much baggage, and resumed his frozen stance at the foot of the steps.
“Let me go,” Beck said, kicking.
Meat Hooks’ arm tightened and Beck cried out in pain. Much more, and the son of a bitch would crack her ribs. Demon stink coated the back of her throat, and the overpowering smell of the guard’s aftershave made it hard to breathe.
Lifting her head, she saw Evan and Trey shove the teens off the porch and into the waiting arms of the demons.
“Leave them alone,” she shouted. “Dammit, they’re just kids.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass, Cookie.” Evan shoved the bloody handkerchief back in his pocket. “You can’t help them. It’s too late.”
Smoke poured from the ghouls’ gaping, broken-toothed maws and into the mouths of the helpless boy and girl. The teens stiffened and arched their backs, their limbs twitching and convulsing. When they straightened, their eyes were puddles of goo.
The bodies the demons had abandoned collapsed to the ground in a rubbery heap, as limp and formless as a deboned chicken. Evan barked an order, and the bald guard shuffled forward, scooped up the gelatinous remains, and threw them into the bonfire. The husks went up like tissue paper. Baldy trudged back to his place at the bottom of the steps.
The boy turned on the girl with a snarl. “I wanted the girl. You always get the tender ones.”
“Stop whining, Elgdrek.” The girl tossed her silky hair. “The boy is stronger and will last longer.” Turning, she gave Beck a gooey-eyed appraisal. “What ails this one? She seems excitable.”
“She’s drunk. Skinner put something in the moonshine, remember?” Evan said. “I’ll deal with her.”
He motioned, and the guard trudged up
the steps and dumped Beck on a porch bench.
“I don’t like her,” Hagilth said. “If she gives you any more trouble, kill her.” She gave a voluptuous stretch and crooked a finger at Charlie. “Come here, you.”
Charlie’s face lit up. “Hot damn.”
“Not yet.” Elgdrek halted Charlie in his tracks with a look. “Business first.”
Hagilth pouted. “I suppose you’re right. But let us hurry. I want to play.” She threw back her head and laughed. “Ah, the bloom of youth is sweet.”
Youth’s sweet all right, you parasitic bitch. Beck sat up and pushed her long hair out of her face. For a few weeks, a couple months, maybe, a year at most, and then you’ll toss this poor girl aside like an old sock.
Not if I can help it, Beck thought. She could see the demons pulsing inside the teenagers like malignant tumors. The right tool and the right opportunity, and she’d pull the bastards like a couple of bad teeth.
She got to her feet and looked around for something, anything, to use. There, sitting on a table next to a pitcher of fruit juice and several bottles of Skinner moonshine, a bottle of liqueur with a bartender’s metal tip. Perfect.
Hagilth and Elgdrek pranced across the lawn, and Charlie and the rest of the crowd followed.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Evan said. “You pull a stunt like that again and I won’t save your ass.”
“Fine by me.” Beck started down the steps. “Don’t do me any favors.”
She paused as the guards moved to block her, staring up at her with dull, unblinking eyes. She flapped a hand in Meat Hooks’ face; nobody home.
Looking over her shoulder, she found Evan watching her from the porch, one shoulder propped against a wooden post. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“To get a drink, if Dumb and Dumber will let me by. I’m thirsty.”
The kith cheered as the two demons climbed onto the bed of a pickup truck and started to speak.
“No more shenanigans, Cookie. I mean it,” Evan said.
“Don’t worry. I know when I’m licked.”
“Good. I’m in no mood for heroics.”
