by T. F. Walsh
Cary stared ahead for the longest moment and sniffled. “Crazy hellhound.” Her voice broke, and she swiped at a tear streaming down her cheek. “Told you he liked you.”
Levi reached over and placed a hand on Cary’s thigh, squeezing.
Silence accompanied them along the dirt road. Shards of sunlight pierced the dense woods around them and lit up the narrow path meant for one car.
“You sure this is the place?” he asked.
She scanned the property. “Kind of looks familiar, but the trees were smaller back then.”
Another few minutes lumbering on the bumpy dirt road and the front porch of a dilapidated house came into view. The wooden railing around the porch had rotted away and a few planks had fallen into the super-sized grass. Paint chipped off the two-story wooden house and plywood boarded several windows.
“Can’t see a number for the house.” He came to a stop directly in front and switched the engine off.
Cary climbed out and shut the door behind her. She trampled toward the porch through the knee-high grass and weeds. Levi followed, scanning the area. Abandoned was a good word to describe it, especially with the tree growing so close to the house that its branches had somehow penetrated the wall and grown through the roof.
The porch groaned beneath his steps. Dried leaves rustled in the wind.
A hiss came from beside him.
He jerked around.
A ginger cat curled up on the torn sofa sitting on the porch, lips peeled back, mouth open in a threat.
Cary knocked on the door. No one answered.
Levi approached the window, ignoring the cat. The closed blinds made it impossible to see anything inside.
“Not sure anyone’s in there,” Cary said.
The cat hopped off its chair and raced round the back.
Cary trailed the cat, and Levi followed her. Around the side of the house was a camouflage-green Dodge Rampage pickup, still in decent condition, give or take a few dents and scratches. The tires had plenty of tread.
In the backyard, Levi spotted an old shed. The woods and weeds had claimed the building so that only its door, slightly ajar, was not completely consumed by vegetation. Not yet anyway.
“Hello? Thomas?” Cary called out. “Are you home?”
A clank came from inside the shed. Levi stepped forward to stand next to Cary, uncertain of what to expect.
The door to the shed swung open, and a white-bearded man with a severe side part in his white hair stepped out. He gripped a machete, and his gaze slammed into Cary, then Levi.
“Get off my property.” He raised his weapon.
“Whoa, relax man.” Levi raised his hands in a peace offering. “We’re just searching for someone. No one needs to get hurt. Put the knife down.” He resisted grabbing his blade to avoid appearing hostile, plus his was ten times smaller than the machete.
Cary placed a hand to her chest. “Thomas, it’s me.”
The old man’s head tilted, studying her with squinted eyes, his bushy eyebrows merging into one long line.
“Last time you saw me, I was about twelve or thirteen. My dad and I came here once. I swung on your tire swing.” She pointed to a monster oak, but no tire hung from it now.
His brow furrowed, but his eyes glistened. “Cary Stone?”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”
A smile slid across his mouth. “You’ve grown. I didn’t recognize you, but I should have known. You have your father’s chin. And his eyes.” He leaned back and stashed the machete back in the shed, a clank sounding. “Come here, girl.”
Moving closer, he took her into his embrace, and Cary hugged him, burying her head into his chest. Neither moved for a while, lost in a hug Levi suspected held a lot of memories.
Levi stood there, the sun beating down on his shoulders. The ginger cat prowled out from behind a shrub, hissing in his direction. Good to know he wasn’t the only one on edge.
Chapter 29
Everything about Thomas reminded Cary of her father. The smell of spicy aftershave embedded in his perspiration, the way he hugged her, his hand patting her back. Shutting her eyes for a few seconds, she shoved aside all the crap from her life and just enjoyed the embrace.
Thomas broke their hug, his gaze shifting to Levi. “So, what brings you kids to Missoula?”
Cary faced Levi. “This is a… my friend, Levi.”
Levi raised an eyebrow, the rest of his face carefully blank.
“Nice to meet you.” Levi stuck out a hand to Thomas, who shook it longer than usual before pulling back.
Thomas’s gaze dipped to Levi’s neck. “Interesting tattoo.” His attention slid to Levi’s collarbone. Curved, black lines from Levi’s protection ink peeked out from under his black shirt. “Protection rune?”
Levi peeled down the fabric, revealing the Celtic knot encasing a flame. “Yep.”
“Got a similar one.” Thomas pushed up his shirt’s sleeve and on his upper arm was a simple circle surrounding a flame.
Levi smirked and nodded in a way one might exchange a secret handshake.
Thomas ambled toward the house and pulled open the screen door for them. “Let’s talk.”
Sunlight lit the kitchen that made Cary feel as if she’d just walked into a new age store. Earthy and nutty smells filled her nostrils, but beneath it lay undertones of citrus—sweet and fruity.
Taking a seat at the round table in the center of the room with Levi across from her, she scanned the lines of shelves across one wall, filled with a variety of stones, most had runes painted on them. The kitchen counter had a dozen bottles filled with a tea-colored solution, probably home brewed beer. A chipped mortar and pestle sat nearby along with a bowl brimming with sliced oranges.
The place reminded her of Tasha’s kitchen, except Tasha had herbs everywhere.
Thomas retrieved three cups from the drawer and set them on the counter.
Cary’s mind swirled with questions about her father, but those weren’t the words that poured past her lips. “What do you do with all the stones?”
“I use them for healing,” he said, not bothering to turn around. “I’m a medicine man.”
Levi rolled his eyes. She kicked him and shook her head at him. The sides of his mouth creased as he reclined in his chair, hands folded over his chest.
Thomas poured the honey-colored liquid from a bottle into three cups. “I’m guessing you’ve found out about your father?” Thomas glanced over his shoulder in her direction, one bushy eyebrow arched higher than the other. “I heard on the grapevine he’d gone missing after some family trouble.”
All these years, she assumed Thomas had no clue about her demon side. Family trouble, he’d said. Obviously, he’d known more than she’d first thought.
Cary’s mouth opened with a response, but Levi’s voice steamrolled over hers. “You don’t have to talk in code. I know she’s a cambion and it was demons who took her father.” A dark tone underlined his words as if admitting the truth killed him.
“That’s why we’re here. A hit was put on me in Hell, something about me being overlooked, and now I’m on a wanted list. And in the process of chasing me down, one of the demons marked Levi as well.” She glanced at Levi who was studying the table’s surface with way too much interest. “And we need to get him unmarked.”
Thomas’s forehead scrunched up. “Okay, start over and tell me everything. In minute detail.” He served his brew and sat at the end of the table.
Cary dove right in, blurting out the incident at the nightclub, the attacks from demons, and the antique store episode. She even mentioned the recent attack where Levi nearly got dragged into a portal hole, including losing Blinkie. By the end, her body shook and her breaths quickened. She’d retract all the bad things that happened this past week if it was possible, or at least exclude Levi from getting caught in her mess. But there was no way back. No way to make it right. The remorse would chew her up for eternity.
Levi didn’t say a word, b
ut the look in his eyes intrigued her. Was that compassion?
“Anything else?” Thomas leaned forward, his hands knotted.
She shook her head, figuring it was no use bringing up the whole Argos mess. It had nothing to do with her mark or removing it. That was a completely different pile of crap she planned to avoid for as long as possible.
Thomas tugged on his beard. “If either of you get caught and dragged into Hell, there’s no way of getting you out. So, the first thing we have to do is make sure you don’t end up like your father—trapped.”
“But if demons can slip out of hell, then surely Cary’s dad can find a way out?”
“It’s not the demon part of Cary’s father that keeps him locked in Hell. It’s his human side. And if Cary gets caught, it will be that human side that keeps her trapped there as well.”
Thomas wiped his mouth and exhaled loudly as his attention focused to Levi. “Meanwhile, it’s simpler for you—if even more of a shit show. If you’re caught, you’ll die and your soul will be forever claimed by demons. So, as far as I can see it, you’ve both got yourselves into horrendous trouble.”
Dread pushed down on Cary’s shoulders, seeping into her bones. “We’re hoping you can help us find a way to remove our marks.” The notion of forever sat in her gut like a boulder.
He sighed. “The idea is relatively simple, but nothing is ever easy when it comes to dealing with Hell.”
“What do you need?” Levi wiped his palms on his jeans and squared his shoulders.
“For both of you to summon the demon who marked you, trap it, and kill it. But to do that, first you have to know its name.”
Cary leaned forward, her lungs squeezed by an invisible hand. “We don’t know its name.”
“Then it’s not so easy.” Thomas’ frame slumped forward slightly, and his expression gave away his fear. The same one that now leeched onto Cary, digging its claws into her flesh.
“How do you know so much about demons?” Levi asked.
Thomas ran a hand through his hair, his gaze dipping momentarily as if it the memory pained him. “I worked closely with Cary’s dad, trapping demons and reading everything I could get my hands on about them. But I’m a coward, I admit it. When I discovered he was a cambion, I got scared and pulled away.”
“I’m sure Dad understands,” Cary piped in, her hand reaching across the table, patting Thomas’ arm.
“Thanks. I want to help you anyway I can. Usually when someone summons a demon without a name, any beast can come through. Think of it as answering a phone call in Hell. Whoever gets there first, jumps through.” Thomas stood from the table. “Hold on.” He hobbled across the kitchen and down a hallway, vanishing into another room.
Cary faced Levi, noting the shadow darkening his square jaw. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
Levi shook his head. His silence stabbed into her. She could deal with words because then she knew where she stood, but facing silence left her isolated and confused.
“Please, Levi. Tell me you’re angry, how much you hate me, just say something.”
“I’ll kill that demon son of a bitch. That’s all I care about right now.”
His gaze dipped to his cup.
Her every part yearned to reach across the table and shake some sense into him. Make him… How would she make him do anything? She couldn’t stand the distance between them or the guilt eating her on the inside.
“If anything happens to you…” Her words faded into the abyss of her muddled brain, the ones about how she’d never be able to go on if he died. She wasn’t sure how to fix the situation, or how to eradicate Levi from the circumstances.
A frown line appeared between his brows. “Nothing will happen to me. I’m worried about keeping you alive. Don’t give the demon any ammunition against us.” He sat with his hands on his thighs, legs wide, and tightness pulling the corners of his mouth downward.
As tempted as she was to push down his chestnut, windswept hair, loving how it fell over his shoulders, she suspected Levi wouldn’t appreciate her touching him. No matter what, she couldn’t deny her attraction to Levi, the way her heart pumped uncontrollably near him, or acknowledged to herself that deep inside lay an amazing guy any woman would be lucky to have. Except, she’d lost that opportunity, or rather, she never stood a chance.
“I’m sorry I never told you what I was. What else can I say to make you forgive me?”
“Let’s not talk about this now, okay?”
Thomas returned with an armful of books. Levi jumped up and helped set them on the table.
“Be right back,” Thomas said.
“I’ll help,” Levi added and followed Thomas.
The pair disappeared into the hallway, leaving Cary alone with a pile of dusty, leather-bound books.
She slumped in her seat, gritted her teeth. They were so deep in crap that she couldn’t let fear into her thoughts. Levi was right. She had to keep her thoughts focused and positive, and ensure Levi didn’t end up in Hell.
Chapter 30
Levi skimmed over another page in the book and found a three-legged crow next to a cauldron. The fancy Latin calligraphy made no sense. Either this was a spell for giving birds a third leg, or he was skimming through a witch’s cook book. Flipping through several more pages revealed other deformed birds near cauldrons. Not even starvation would tempt him into trying two-headed vulture soup. Nope. He slammed the book shut and set it on the floor near the foot of the table in Thomas’s kitchen, catching Cary’s attention.
“Where did you say you got these books from?” Levi grabbed another one with a brown leather cover from the reducing pile. No demon spell, and after several cups of what Thomas called Kombucha, a fermented and lightly effervescent tea, he wanted to pee more than any man ever should.
“They were a gift from my grandfather.” Thomas gripped a book to his chest, his mouth twisted into an awkward smile. “My dad is a proud Norwegian, and very old fashioned. No son of his would be dabbling in magic or working with Norse runes for healing. He wanted his sons to go to college and become accountants or lawyers. But that wasn’t the worst of it. My father hadn’t spoken to my grandpa for over twenty-years for practicing witchcraft. He kept me away from my pops too, and I was young, not understanding the drama, so I listened to my dad. A mistake I’ll take to my grave.” He paused for a moment, his cheeks reddening. “Anyway, after my grandfather died, I received these books as part of his will.” He placed one back on the table and took a deep intake of air.
“I guess not everyone is open-minded to things they don’t understand.” Cary coughed, probably from the dust in the air. “Your grandpa must have loved you to have given you his amazing collection.”
Levi chimed in. “I bet any collector would pay a truckload for them.” Except the bird soup book. No one should ever buy that book.
“I’d never sell them.” Thomas’s voice climbed.
“Of course not, just saying.” Levi glanced at Cary.
She pushed loose strands of hair off her face and returned her attention to researching.
Levi shifted in his seat, his gut tightening with each passing second as he thought about regret. Thomas had bailed on Cary’s father after discovering he was a cambion. Levi wondered: Was he going to end up living with regrets, too? He already wore it as a straitjacket for killing his best friend. He took another gulp of the Kombucha but regretted it immediately, because the bitterness clung to his throat.
Just like regret.
His head told him to back away from Cary, but his heart pounded in protest. This was ridiculous. All of it—his dread, his hatred, his affection. How could he loath and desire a person at the same time?
For the next hour, no one said a word as they poured over Thomas’s books. Levi’s eyelids were growing heavy. It was the dull reading material, or the tea. Need to stay awake.
He caught Cary glancing his way, saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, the way her downturned lips were screaming he
r unspoken dread. He’d do what it took to protect her, he knew, and with their fucked up situation, that was all the emotion he could handle right now. Everything else could wait.
If they survived.
A loud slap resonated against the table. Levi’s head jerked up to find Thomas slamming his palm onto the table. Was he killing a cockroach?
Levi wiped his mouth and touched a piece of paper stuck to his cheek. When had he fallen asleep?
“Yes.” Thomas pointed to the book, grinning. “This is it. Summoning the spawn of Satan.” His finger slid down a page, and Cary leaned in for a closer look. “There’s a note on summoning a specific demon without a name. I think I’ve got the ingredients. For this to work, someone needs to have a taint or mark from the specific demon. Check. And the person marked must use their blood in the spell.”
“I’ll do it,” Levi said immediately. “The demon is mine.”
“No,” Cary said. “I should do it because the mark was intended for me. The spell might be stronger with my blood, too.” She looked at Thomas, though the pain in her words was obvious.
“Only the person offering blood will be able to fight the demon. So, maybe we use blood from both of you,” Thomas suggested. Levi and Cary both nodded.
“Okay, so we have a summoning spell.” A slight smile touched the corners of Cary’s lips. “Is there one for killing the bastard? I hadn’t seen one in the book I went gone through.”
“Me neither.” Levi frantically flipped pages to see if he could have somehow missed it.
Thomas shook his head. “There’s no way to completely kill a demon. You can bind it to an object though, trapping it forever, after you get it to remove your marks.”
“Of course, there’s no easy way out,” Levi groaned. “That would make too much sense.” He sighed. “That’s fine. I’ve got my hunter gear with me.” He glanced over to Cary who was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “We’ll do this like any ordinary hunt,” he told her. “Together, we’ll make this work.”
