A Wolf at the Door

by Stewart, K. A.

  A few minutes went by with no response, and I tried one last time, yelling as loud as I could. “AXEL!!” On a nearby roof, some birds took off, squawking in protest, but that was all I got. No blond demon. Not even a possessed squirrel. I guess he meant it when he said he couldn’t be caught here.

  “Dammit.” Then I felt stupid for expecting otherwise. He was a demon, after all. He’d protect his own ass before anything else.

  When my phone rang, I almost jumped out of my skin and part of me wondered what the area code was in Hell. But no, it was just Ivan. “Dawson.”

  “Mornin’, Ivan. How goes it?” I found a seat on one of the benches bordering the stream, just letting the sun soak into me.

  “This contract is to being very interesting.”

  “You were able to read it, then?”

  “Ni.” Not one for small talk, our Ivan.

  I sighed. “Great. So we’re no closer to finding out what the hell is going on.”

  “Hm. Ni. But do not to be despairing. I am to be knowing a few people who may be able to help. I will make phone calls.” We were both quiet for a few moments. “Will you to be challenging for this, once it is translated?”

  Would I? That was a good question. “I asked her. She doesn’t want me to. And I wouldn’t feel right, challenging for her soul against her will, y’know? That’s a kinda personal thing to do.”

  “Perhaps if I was to be speaking to her, I could convince her to accept our aid.” That thought made me smile. I wondered what the Hollywood starlet would think of my gruff Ukrainian mentor.

  “You can try, I guess. She’s still sleeping, though.”

  “That is all right. I will speak to her when I arrive.”

  “Um…you really don’t have to do that, Ivan. I have this under control.” I had nothing under control.

  “Regardless. I will arrive tomorrow. Where are you to be staying?” I told him. There was no point in arguing once he’d made up his mind. “Until tomorrow.” He hung up on me.

  “Do you often talk about people when they’re not around?” Gretchen’s voice might have startled me, if I hadn’t caught a whiff of her perfume a couple of minutes before. She stepped out of the little alcove where she’d been hiding—poorly—wearing yoga pants and a tight T-shirt, her feet bare on the river stone path.

  “Well, yeah.” I spun around on the bench, flipping my feet to the other side so I could face her. “They tend to get upset when I talk about them to their faces.”

  “I told you, I don’t want out of my contract.” She frowned at me, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked very much like her mother at that moment.

  “I know. And I won’t do anything without your say-so. I’m just trying to get the damn thing translated for you.” I stood up. Having her look down at me was too much like being scolded by my mom.

  “Who were you talking to? You sent my contract to him.”

  “His name is Ivan. He’s another champion, like me.” He was more than that, but…need to know basis, and she didn’t need to know. “He can’t read it either, but he might know some people. He’s gonna call back.” I tilted my head at her. “You know, your demon was the weakest one I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t want to jinx myself and call the fight a sure thing, but…if you wanted it…”

  “Don’t you dare.” She advanced on me, poking one finger into my chest, and I held my hands up defensively. “I told you, I hold up my end.”

  “Hey, whatever you say. Just pointing out your options is all.” I glanced around. “Where’s Tai? He let you come up here alone?”

  “I told him I was coming up to work out with you.” She shrugged. “I wanted to see what you were doing. And I find you poking your nose in my business where it isn’t wanted.” Once more, she jabbed her finger into my chest, which was one more time than I intended to tolerate.

  Her eyes went wide when I snatched her wrist away, and but she recovered quickly and struggled against my grip. “Let go, asshole!” When that didn’t work, she tried to kick me in the shin, which was gonna hurt her way more than it was me, with her feet bare.

  “Bobby and Tai never taught you how to get out of this hold? Seriously?” As short as she was, I may have even been able to pick her up and dangle her from that delicate little arm, were I so inclined. “Here, quit tugging, you’ll never get loose that way.”

  Her eyes wary, she stopped fighting against me, and watched as I explained. “Look at how I have you here. When someone has you like this, the weakest part of the grip is the thumb, okay?”

  “Okay…”

  “So all you have to do is give your arm a quick twist, toward the thumb, and you’ll come right out of it.” I released her, and offered my own wrist. “Grab me, I’ll show you.”

  After a moment of hesitation, she did as instructed, squeezing my wrist as hard as she could. With a quick yank, I was free. “Well, yeah, you can get away. You’re stronger than I am.”

  “Has nothing to do with strength. My six-year-old daughter can break away from me like this. You try it.” This time, I simply offered my open hand, waiting for her to place her wrist in it. When she did, I gripped as hard as I could without bruising. “Now, turn toward the thumb.” She did, and I clamped down harder, preventing her escape.

  She frowned. “See? You’re too strong.”

  “You grab me now.”

  “What?”

  “Grab me in return, then yank against the thumb. Double the force, see? I promise you, you will come loose.”

  “I feel stupid.”

  “If I were some crazed stalker, and you had to use this, at the end of the day you’d just feel glad to be alive. Do it.”

  Her brow creased in concentration as she jerked against my grasp just like I’d instructed. Her look of amazement was priceless as she freed herself. “I did it!” Then she looked at me suspiciously. “You let me go. It can’t be that easy. Hold tighter this time.”

  We practiced a few more times, with me holding her as tightly as I dared. Even then, I could feel the tiny bones in her wrist grinding, and I hoped I wasn’t going to leave a mark. Once she felt she’d mastered that, I showed her a few more. How to get out of a two-handed grab. How to get free from a choke hold from behind. How to get loose from a hold on her hair. She picked it up pretty fast, really. I was kinda impressed if I did say so myself.

  “Okay, so…I get loose, then what do I do?” She bounced a little on her toes, grinning at me. “Can you show me how to kick some ass?”

  I snorted. “If it comes to you using this to get away from an attacker, you scream your head off and run like hell. That’s the best thing you can do.”

  Gretchen pouted, turning on the full force of those deep blue eyes and full lips. “Oh, come on, show me something. Just one punch. Anything.”

  I sighed as I debated with myself. When confronted with an attacker, most people are just going to get themselves hurt if they try to fight back. The best thing to do is get away, run to a safe place. Your garden-variety street mugger isn’t going to chase.

  Still…I couldn’t deny any woman the right to defend herself. I’d taught Mira. I was slowly teaching Annabelle. First person to lay a hand on one of my girls was gonna be damn sorry.

  “Okay. Make a fist for me.” She did, bringing her hands up in a really bad boxer’s stance. “No…thumb on the outside. You punch someone like that, you’ll break your thumb.” Automatically, she corrected herself.

  I grabbed her by both wrists, like we’d been rehearsing. “You have choices here. Your best choice is to break the hold and run, like I said. But, you can also do the last thing he expects. You will only get one chance to surprise a man, so you have to make it count. From this position, you can yank him into a head butt.” I demonstrated, slowly. “I advise against this, mostly because you’re gonna knock yourself senseless if you don’t do it right. Still, as a last resort, it’s an option. Aim for the bridge of the nose. Broken and bloody makes it damn hard for a guy to see.

&nb
sp; “You can also break the hold”—I slowly walked her through what we’d been practicing—“and then punch. I’d advise going for the throat if you can, or the eyes.” I showed her how to jab with stiff fingers. “If you do it, mean it. Put your shoulder behind it, roll your hips, try to punch through the back of his head. You’re only going to get one shot.”

  She watched me intently as I demonstrated, then carefully followed through, copying my motions. Damn, I wished I had more time to really teach her.

  “What about kicking him in the nuts?”

  I shook my head. “Every man in the world expects a woman to do that. He’ll be ready. If you wanna go that route, you wait until he’s yanked you close in, then grab him where it counts. You have those long fingernails, put them to use. Dig in, twist, turn, try to yank them off. Even through jeans, that’s gonna hurt like a bitch.” Even the idea of it made me wanna cringe and hold myself. “If you have to kick, go for the side of the knee, or rake your shoe down the bony part of his shin. Or even better with the heels you wear, stomp on his foot. It’d be just like stabbing him. Unless he wears steel-toed boots.”

  “And then?”

  “And then you run, Gretchen. You’re not a superhero, you’re just a woman who wants to live to see the next sunrise. You run like hell and you make as much noise as you can. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” She sulked a little, mostly for show, then brightened. “Okay, let’s do it again.”

  I wasn’t sure how long we worked up there in the roof garden, but it was long enough that Tai came looking for us to see what was up. With a bemused smile, he joined in as a target dummy, and even added a few moves of his own, proving that the big man was more than talk. While we were evenly matched in height, he outweighed me by a good chunk, and he was almost as fast. I didn’t like to think what a fight between the two of us would be like. I’d be pretty unhappy running into him in a dark alley, that’s for sure.

  Finally, Gretchen declared that she was starving and called a halt to our impromptu class. Despite my late dinner the night before, I was pretty damn hungry myself, but as we rode the elevator down, I had to admit I also felt pretty damn satisfied. Hopefully Tai and Bobby could keep teaching her after I left, and then Gretchen would be able to take care of herself. Somehow, that made me feel better.

  14

  Later, I didn’t feel so much better. “But I don’t understand why.”

  Gretchen raised a brow at me as Dante zipped up the back of her teeny tiny little dress. I had to wonder if she got a discount, since they used so little fabric. “Would you hide in a hole, if someone was after you?”

  “Well, no, but I’m well known for not being too bright.” That got a laugh out of her, at least. “Seriously, going to a party is important?”

  “Like I said, this is how I pay my rent. There will be people at this party. Important people that I need to keep connections with.”

  I looked at Tai and Bobby and got zero support. Dante was no help either. He just shrugged and patted her on the shoulder when her dress was zipped. “There you go, Boo.”

  “Come help me with my hair.” Taking him by the hand, they disappeared back into her room.

  Once again, I looked at the two bodyguards. “This is nuts.”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Tai insisted. “We’ll be at someone’s private home. They have their own security, plus probably some extra for the party. There’ll be a whole herd of other bodyguards there, just like us. The groupies were disinvited, so it’ll just be celebs and their dates. Even Dante isn’t coming. If she has to go out, the only place safer would be the White House.”

  I eyed Bobby, sitting in dour silence. “And you? You’re okay with this?”

  He shrugged. “I do what I’m told. I don’t have to like it.” Privately, I thought Bobby was only encouraging this so he could get a shot at whatever this thing was.

  Tai looked me over and shook his head, tsking. “If you’re going, you need to change. She’ll totally leave you behind if you’re not up to snuff.”

  I failed to see what was wrong with what I was wearing, but apparently an I SEE STUPID PEOPLE shirt wasn’t elegant enough. Bobby and Tai were already dressed in black slacks and white button-up shirts. I was pretty sure that if either of them stretched too much, both shirts were going to rip right down the back. Big men were just not meant to wear stuff like that.

  I had a plain white dress shirt too, stuffed in the bottom of my suitcase. It was, of course, wrinkled all to hell, and I grumbled as I set up the ironing board. Okay, yes, I know how to iron. Doesn’t mean I like it.

  “No!” We all jumped as Gretchen poked her head out of her room, her hair half done and Dante clucking behind her like a mother hen. “No, you wear the one I got you, the blue silk.” And then she was gone again.

  Both bodyguards gave me amused smirks and zero help. With a sigh, I traded out shirts and set about ironing the blue silk.

  Bobby watched me for all of two minutes before he came and shoved me out of the way. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re gonna take all night.” With the speed of military efficiency, he had my shirt ironed and tossed at me in a matter of moments. “Damn civilians.”

  When I stripped off my T-shirt to change, Tai whistled lowly. “Damn, man! What’d you do, dance with a lawn mower?”

  I looked down at my bare chest, eyeing the interesting collection of scars that dotted my pale skin. Burn splatters down one forearm. Some quarter-sized horseshoe-looking marks on my shoulders. And my crowning achievement, the vicious claw marks raking my left side from armpit to hip. All presents from demons I’d faced, some more formidable than others. “Pretty sure that’s one of those questions you’re happier not knowing the answer to, Tai.”

  Even Bobby looked impressed. “That one had to puncture a lung there,” he mused, pointing to my Yeti scars.

  I ran my fingers over them, feeling the rough ridges along my ribs. “Lung, stomach, intestines, nicked the liver, broke almost every rib on that side, and just barely missed my kidney and my heart.” Yeah, Jesse had been a tore-up boy after that one. Sometimes, I wondered why I lived.

  “Jesus Christ!” Gretchen’s exclamation startled us all, followed by Dante’s almost whispered, “Wow.” None of us had heard them return.

  Suddenly self-conscious, I shrugged into my new shirt. “It’s no big deal. I lived.”

  “Were all those from demon fights?” Gretchen tried to get another look as I buttoned up my shirt, and I frowned and turned away to block her view. Of course, she immediately followed me in a circle until I batted her hands away from my collar with an annoyed growl.

  “Yes.”

  “And you keep doing it?” There was no mistaking the awe in her blue eyes. “Are you nuts?”

  “Like I said. Not too bright.”

  She looked at me like I’d suddenly grown two heads until Dante cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go, Boo, if that’s okay. You look great, you don’t need me.”

  “Oh yeah, Dante, thanks.” She walked him to the door, kissing his cheek as he left.

  He was right, though. She was stunning. I couldn’t even tell you what he did to her hair, except it was all piled up on top of her head and falling down in these little wispy tendril thingies. Her dress was a dark teal that brought out a hint of green in her eyes, draping to bare her back and reveal her shimmery soul tattoos again. Her shoes, of course, were high enough to require a building permit.

  She turned to face us, giving us a critical once-over. “Well, as soon as Jesse tucks his shirt in, we’re ready to go.” All eyes in the room looked at me expectantly until I’d done as instructed, but before we could head out the door, I stopped them.

  “Wait just a sec.” In the pack that contained my armor were my leather bracers. I slid them on, using my teeth to fasten the buckles, then rolled my cuffs down over them. The shirt sleeves would hide them, and at least I felt like I had a bit more defense with them on. Invisible snowflakes peppered my skin as
the spells on them settled into place. Joint work, that, Mira’s carved symbols combined with Cameron’s prayer.

  My demon mace went on my belt loop, with Mira’s pentacle and Cam’s danger disk. I patted my pockets down, trying to think if I could carry anything else inconspicuously, but that really was the sum total of my concealable gear. Demon fighting isn’t really what you’d call subtle. I didn’t offer an explanation of my actions, and no one else asked, so when I was done, we were off.

  I had no idea where we went, exactly, but the street was lined with huge house after mansion after castle. They all had high walls and gated drives, most with little guardhouses to the sides. Some of those had people in them. Most did not.

  The sprawling house we pulled up to was designed with a Spanish flavor, and the only reason I knew that was because I worked in an open-air mall with the same decorator. Terra-cotta slate roof, stucco walls, fancy mosaic tiles under our feet. Fountains. That kinda stuff.

  I spent more time scoping out the security than the architecture, though. They were easy to spot. First, we had the security force that belonged to the house. You could tell them because they were all wearing identical gray sport coats with a teeny little logo emblazoned on the left breast. They had earpieces and radios clipped to their belts. I counted six before we turned the car over to the valet.

  The cops, of course, were outside directing traffic. Two cars, one officer apiece. Probably there to keep the neighbors from calling in complaints.

  And then we had the bodyguards, dressed in black slacks and white shirts just like Bobby and Tai. Some of them had jackets on, hiding shoulder rigs just like Gretchen’s two bodyguards, but most of them were just big, bulky thugs, so muscle-bound they couldn’t have touched their hands behind their backs. Sure, they looked impressive, but when it came down to it, they’d be worse than useless. Mostly because they didn’t know they were useless. I spotted fifteen I was sure of, and another four or five who were “maybes.” Given the size of the crowd, it was obvious that very few people came with personal muscle.