Pale Demon th-9

by Kim Harrison

  Groaning, the man collapsed, but it had been the curse breaking, not the man’s spine, and he lay on the floor, gasping for breath.

  “Maybe you should leave now,” I suggested, and he rolled to his hands and knees. Reaching for the sink, he pulled himself up. Grime from the bottoms of a thousand shoes coated his back, and sweat glistened on his neck. Panting, he looked to the door as it creaked open, becoming even more frightened.

  I looked as well, and a heavy spike of fear slid through my ribs and into my lungs. Ku’Sox. “Damn it, Trent,” I said as I edged over to stand by him. “I told you I have this. I do not need any help!”

  Ku’Sox stood before the closed door in a blue-gray, trendy suit, his pale eyes gleaming as he adjusted his silver tie. He had upgraded, it seemed—eaten an executive on Hollywood Boulevard, maybe. With one hand, he opened the door. Music drifted in, along with muffled conversation and kitchen clatter. The assassin didn’t need to be asked twice. Soft shoes squeaking, he fled.

  “You’ll never make it in time,” he said to Trent as he slipped past Ku’Sox.

  “Oh yeah?” I shouted as the door started to close. “You don’t know nothing!”

  Silence fell as the door clicked shut. Crap.

  “As compared with you, who thinks she knows everything?” Ku’Sox said, smiling.

  My thoughts flashed to him as an ugly stork, in his beak a pixy fighting for life even as the demented demon tossed his head to shift him headfirst down his throat. Stifling a shudder, I nudged Trent’s bubble to get him to take it down, but he didn’t, his face set in grim determination. No fear, though. Stupid man.

  “Hey, hi, Ku’Sox,” I said, mouth dry. “Uh, no hard feelings, okay? Al had you beat before I got there.”

  Instead of the expected threats, the demon nodded as if I’d answered a question. “I thought it was you Al had slipped into,” he said, blue eyes slitted. “If it had been Newt, I might have been hurt. You are full of unexpected talents…Rachel. I can call you Rachel, can I not?”

  He came in another step, and I backed up, hitting Trent’s bubble and slipping backward when Trent took it down. There was a new caution in Ku’Sox, and that gave me hope, even as my palms started to sweat. Damn it, Jenks, where are you?

  “I should have guessed,” Ku’Sox said, sniffing as he took in his image in the mirror and his nose grew a shade narrower and his tan deepened. “Even Al knows better than to let Newt hold his energy field. She might have snuffed him for the fun of it.” Blue eyes meeting mine, he frowned. “This alliance with Al doesn’t bode well for your future. I will take drastic measures if you persist in it. It’s all in the early training. I should know, having been…trained. Get us young enough, and we can do anything. Wait too long, and we never break our bad habits.”

  I took another step backward, teeth clenched. I was going the wrong way, but this guy scared the peas out of me. “I’m not being trained, and Trent’s not in any danger,” I said, proud of the way my voice didn’t crack. “You can go now. He’s safe.”

  I had held Al’s energy field? I thought even as I looked for a way out of this. I’d assumed it had been the other way around, but maybe not.

  “Go?” Ku’Sox shifted his shoulders, watching his reflection as his suit broadened and he became wider across the shoulders. The scent of carrion seemed to tickle my nose. “Going is an excellent idea. We shall start your rehabilitation right away.”

  “No, wait!” I said, my hands raised to fend him off, but it was too late and he wrapped an arm around my waist and tucked me under his arm. “Watch it!” I cried out when my head almost hit a urinal as he spun. I was still connected to a line, and I smacked him with it.

  Ku’Sox trembled, shuddering in what could have been pain but what I was betting was pleasure. Maybe it was both. “More than adequate to get started,” he said as he headed for the door. Trent stood at the sink, helpless as Ku’Sox picked me up like a kitten and walked away. Maybe he’d get it now. It only looked like I was safe around demons.

  Fingers scrabbling for the edge of the stall, I managed to stop us for a half second. “Still think you can find a way to control this? Then tell him to stop,” I said to Trent, then yelped when my fingers burned as Ku’Sox yanked me off the stall. My butt hit the door, and the music got loud as we left the men’s room. Three steps later, Ku’Sox swung me up, putting me over his shoulder. I was helpless. If I threw anything at him, I’d get it back in spades.

  “I won’t let you jump me,” I said, his shoulder cutting into my lungs and making it hard to breathe.

  He slowed as we entered the restaurant, seeming to enjoy the music and high spirits. “To the ever-after? Why would I want to go there when we have the sun here?” he said, adjusting my weight to make my breath huff out. “There must be a boat somewhere in a sea of salt. I’m going to pick you apart, find out how much of a pain in the ass a natural-spawned demon is going to be to raise properly, or if I’d be better off destroying you all in the womb, so to speak.”

  Oh, that didn’t sound good. “I’m not a demon,” I said, jamming my elbow into his back, wondering if I grabbed a knife off a passing tray and hit his kidney hard enough, he might drop me. The blood was pooling in my head, hurting.

  “I’ve tasted you,” Ku’Sox said softly. “You’re like me, only natural born. With a mother and a father.”

  Even over the noise, I could detect his jealousy. And why was no one saying anything? Maybe men toting women out of the back was normal here. I hit his back harder, and he tightened his grip.

  “You might be strong enough to give me pain,” he said, heading for the door. “You might not be. I want to know before more of you show up.”

  “Let me go, you freak!” I shouted, feet kicking as we started to pass tables, but everyone thought it was part of the show and only clapped. Where is Trent? Washing his hands?

  “I’m not a freak,” he hissed, pinching my middle until I gasped in pain.

  Extending my arms to his back, I pushed myself up, looking wildly for Ivy. Jenks. Hell, even Vivian would be a help. Orienting myself, I sent my gaze to our table. “Pierce!” I shouted, and the man turned from where he’d been watching the two vamps in the corner. Beside him, Vivian’s eyes widened. “A little help here, maybe?” Jeez, did I have to sing it for them?

  Pierce stood, his face ashen. “Rachel!” he called, cutting through the music and catching everyone’s attention. Without missing a beat, the band shifted to “Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong” and the crowd exploded into cheers. I could understand their confusion. Ku’Sox looked like an especially attractive billionaire, rescuing his woman of the week from a lifetime of minimum wage.

  Tight over my head came a clatter of pixy wings, and I looked up to get a face full of pixy dust. “Jenks, get Ivy!” I shouted between coughs, the image of a pixy and a bird flashing through my mind—terrifying me more than Ku’Sox carrying me away. My head dropped as I wiped my eyes, and I glimpsed Trent at the top of the kitchen corridor. Focus blurry, I felt more than saw Ivy at the front of the restaurant in a puddle of light by the register, hands on her hips and looking svelte and refreshed.

  Finally I could see again, and I let out a little shriek, ducking when a black ball of ever-after arched toward us. Pierce. He’d thrown something.

  It struck Ku’Sox right in the head, little pinpricks of his aura hitting me like sleet. Ku’Sox stumbled as if shocked, and I scrabbled for a grip as he began to fall. The curse flashed through Ku’Sox, jerking his muscles stiff, but then it was me screaming when the son of a bitch shoved Pierce’s curse into me instead.

  I howled as the arc of electricity jumped from neuron to neuron, burning. I caught a glimpse of Pierce, horrified, and then the pain was gone and I was panting, trying to breathe as I hung limp over Ku’Sox’s shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” Vivian shouted from a thousand years away.

  “You think your white charms are going to do anything against that?” Pierce yelled back, and the band
started to falter—except for the drummer, lost in the throes of his passion.

  “Please don’t do that again,” I slurred, head hanging. Conversation hummed in my stunned ears, and I caught a few uneasy whispers. We passed another table, and I started to rally. It was up to Ivy. Magic wouldn’t do it—it had to be physical.

  “Thank you, God,” I said as I heard her scream at him. The world spun, and I hit the floor, sprawling and hip bruised. I looked up to see Ivy and Ku’Sox in a tangle on a table. Shouts of protest rose high as glasses and plates hit the floor. My phone was humming, the buzz in my back pocket almost lost in the vertigo that was hitting me. Dizzy, I rolled to get out of the way. People were starting to scatter. We had to do this fast, or the freak would start eating people.

  “Jenks!” I shouted, ducking under the table when a chair Ivy had thrown shattered near my elbow. “Get Trent out of here!” I shouted again, thinking that maybe if Trent was gone, the demon might be constrained to follow.

  Jenks hesitated in midair, hovering between Ivy and me, clearly torn.

  “Tell him to get the car!” I yelled, a little ding from my back pocket telling me whoever it was had left a voice message. “Bring it here!” The demon would follow him or not. Either way, we’d have a quick way out of here when the shit quit hitting the fan.

  Leaving a burst of frustrated dust, Jenks darted from Ivy to me, his long hair swinging. His sharply angled face twisted up in indecision, but before he could say anything, Ivy yelled in pain. We both looked to see her slide across the floor on her back until slamming into the bottom of the stage. Blinking, she shook her head, trying to focus. The drummer finally stopped, and in the sudden hush, she slurred, “I’m okay. Get the freak of a demon.”

  That did it, and even as Ku’Sox dramatically turned, people surged to the doors in a panic. In seconds, the emergency door began screaming, and the people trying to get out of the jam-packed front surged to the rear. Ku’Sox seemed to be enjoying the chaos, raising his arms in benediction and soaking it all in as the fear rose and the noise grew louder.

  I jumped when Jenks landed on my shoulder. Beside me was Trent, and I grabbed his arm and started dragging him to the kitchen. There had to be a back door. Vivian and Pierce could take care of themselves. My phone was ringing again, and I ignored it.

  “Nice going, Trent,” I said as I yanked us to a halt to avoid a panicked waitress, her eyes black in fear. “I had this under control until you called in Ku’Sox.”

  “Yeah, you stupid cookie maker,” Jenks snarled, resting on my shoulder. “Quit trying to help, okay?”

  “I didn’t call him. He just showed up,” Trent said indignantly, and I would have laughed but it sounded too familiar. “Why don’t you just hit him with some magic?” he said, and I stopped in the hallway, just outside the kitchen doors. People were screaming, trying to get out, but no one was coming this way.

  “What, and end up dead?” I said, not having a problem admitting that there were people stronger than me. “Ku’Sox almost killed Al,” I said, my pointing arm dropping when I realized Ku’Sox was eying the frantic people as if mentally culling the herd. “I can’t beat that! You freed a serial killer!”

  Trent flinched, but I think it was from the explosion behind me more than from what I’d said. I spun to the wave of heat at my back, and by the familiar green tint to the fading aura, I’d guess that Ku’Sox had deflected one of Pierce’s curses. A table was burning with a green flame, and the fire licking the nets was beginning to crawl along the ceiling. A drop of it fell to the floor, and I felt myself pale when someone collapsed with an ugly scream, writhing in pain and clutching his leg. In three seconds, the man was engulfed, creating a second panic as people trampled one another to get away.

  Okay. Safety note. Don’t step in the green fire.

  “Pierce!” I shouted. The choking air smelling like burned limes. “You’re hurting people!”

  His long coat furling, he spun to me. My face went cold. There was no remorse in him, no softness. Only the demands of the fight. “He needs to die in flame!” Pierce shouted angrily. “Demons die in flame!”

  True, but so do people.

  I strengthened my hold on the ley line when Ku’Sox started for Ivy, but the shrill sound of the man burning pulled Ku’Sox’s attention like a siren’s song. He shifted his focus and started for the screaming man instead, flinging people aside if they didn’t move fast enough. Standing before the writhing man, Ku’Sox hesitated for a blissful second, soaking in the sound of the alarm and the fleeing people as the man gurgled his last. The demon’s eyes widened in anticipation, and he flushed before plunging his hands into the slumped, still-burning form. Ku’Sox shuddered in pleasure, his expression one of gleeful enthusiasm. Pulling back, his two-handed grip was holding something hazed with a soft glow. Holding it over his head, Ku’Sox squeezed his hands and a black, viscous substance oozed from his fingers to fall into his mouth. His soul? Was it the man’s soul, burnt and burning?

  “Holy crap,” I whispered, scared to death. I looked across the restaurant to Pierce, seeing that he was as horrified as I was. Beside him, Vivian shook, utterly terrified—she had nothing to stop a soul-eating demon. I hadn’t even known you could pull someone’s soul out like that.

  Both Vivian and I jumped when a rifle shot exploded through the sound of alarms and terrified people.

  Only the ringing door alarm broke the sudden silence as everyone turned to the front where a huge bear of a man, a Were by the look of it, stood in a sifting of ceiling dust. There was a rifle as big as he was in his thick hands. “All right!” he said, and I nudged Trent to get the hell out of here. “The cops are coming. You just clear out, and we’ll have no more trouble!”

  It was a nice thought, but he clearly didn’t know this wasn’t your average brawl, supernatural or not. “Get the car!” I all but hissed at Trent, and finally the man started to drift back toward the kitchen. Under the ringing alarm, I could hear a woman crying. Ivy stood slowly, able to focus again apparently. She had a hand to the back of her head, and I hoped she was okay. I didn’t dare move yet. Ku’Sox seemed to have forgotten me, and I was too chicken to remind him; maybe we could all just slink out of here real quiet like…

  “Stay with Trent, Jenks,” I said, unable to look away from Ku’Sox, and the pixy dropped to hover in front of me.

  “Don’t make me leave,” he said, his fear obvious.

  “What is that marvelous creation!” Ku’Sox exclaimed, looking across the restaurant at the rifle, and when he moved, people started for the door again. At least the alarm to the back door had gone quiet, and it was only people screaming this time.

  My gaze flicked to Jenks, and I felt a stab of shared fear. “I don’t trust Trent. We need the car. Do this for me.” My palms were sweaty, and I wiped them on my jeans. “You’ve got my back, Jenks,” I said as he hesitated in frustration. “Make sure Trent brings the car. I’m counting on you.”

  “Damn it back to the Turn,” Jenks swore, looking both pissed and scared as he darted through the swinging kitchen doors to follow Trent. A silver sparkle dripped from his path, and I prayed Trent wouldn’t cross us. Jenks would kill him.

  Shaking, I turned back to the restaurant. Maybe I could salvage something.

  “I don’t want no trouble,” the Were manager said as he cocked the rifle again.

  Maybe not.

  My shoulders slumped and I held my middle as I exchanged a look with Ivy across the tables, knowing what was going to happen next. We could do nothing but watch as Ku’Sox strode forward, his hand outstretched. The Were shook his head in warning, grimaced, lowered the weapon, pointed, and pulled the trigger. I jerked as the bullet exploded the wall behind the demon, people screaming as the splinters of wood and plaster went everywhere.

  The manager’s mouth opened, and Ku’Sox yanked the gun from him, not angry at all, but curious. “Please make it fast, God,” I whispered. I couldn’t stop this. I couldn’t stop it!

&nbs
p; “It works like this?” Ku’Sox said, turning the gun around and blowing a hole in the man’s chest.

  I couldn’t tell if the noise or the color came first: the blood and tiny bits of bone coating the register in a speckled red wash of thunderous noise. People screamed, and the Were looked down at the hole in his chest in shock. Red bubbles frothed from his lips as he tried to speak. Then he dropped to his knees and fell forward into a puddle of his own broken insides.

  It was ugly, and I leaned against the wall as the rising fear hit me along with the stench of gunpowder and hot metal. I wished this had never happened, that I’d never agreed to help Trent, that I’d never, ever gone to the library two years ago looking for a way to do whatever it was I’d been hoping to do.

  I didn’t even remember anymore. Whatever it was, it had been a mistake.

  Shutting my eyes wasn’t making it go away, though, and I opened them to find Pierce standing resolutely on a table, his moving fingers wreathed in blackness as his whispered Latin buzzed through my brain, an echo of his rising curse. I turned to the exits, seeing that everyone had gotten out but the few collapsed in fear. “Vivian!” I shouted, seeing her not panicking, but not knowing what to do, either. “Get them out of here!”

  Thank God Jenks is gone. I don’t want him to see what I do next.

  “What a waste,” Ku’Sox said as he looked at the rifle in his hands, then tossed it from him to clatter across a table. “It killed you far too quickly.” Scanning the nearby tables, he found a woman in white, sobbing, curled into a ball and spending her five minutes in hell.

  “You’re still alive, though,” he said, and the woman shrieked as he plucked her from under the table. “I’ll eat you instead,” he said, and the woman came to life as he held her up, ignoring her clawing hands as he pulled her closer, his jaw opening to fix on her throat.

  It was like a demented kiss, and the woman had one breath to scream—a terrifying shriek of pain and fear—of shock at what was happening. And then he pulled her from him with a sudden jerk, his face bloody and a two- pound gap of flesh in the woman’s neck. She still struggled though her head flopped at an impossible angle, bits of bloody froth spraying from her torn throat as she tried to scream, her lungs still working though her voice box was now inside Ku’Sox.