Demon 04 - Deja Demon

by Julie Kenner

  “Was,” he said in a hushed tone. “Now I’m watching our mysterious stranger.”

  “What mysterious stranger?” Laura asked, her voice normal.

  “Hush, woman! Don’t you know they sometimes got extra-keen hearing?”

  Laura’s mouth curved into a little frown. “Actually, I didn’t know that.”

  “Who?” I asked, before we could get off on a tangent. The question, though, wasn’t necessary. A simple glance across the street, and I knew exactly who Eddie was talking about. A tall, lanky man in ill-fitting clothes, with dark hair and an olive complexion.

  “Demon?” I asked.

  “Could be. Noticed him when I was leaving,” Eddie said. “Kinda creeping around. Don’t live on this street or yours,” he said, pointing to Laura. “Got a nose for these things. Can’t stay alive long as I have without being able to sniff out trouble. ”

  “So you’ve stayed here watching him?” I prompted.

  “Hell, no,” Eddie said. “I went to the library. Told you I thought Tammy was working.”

  “But I thought you said you knew he was trouble,” Laura said.

  “That’s what you got this one for,” Eddie said, hooking a thumb at me.

  I caught Laura’s eye and gave the slightest shake of my head. With Eddie, it was best not to pursue these things.

  “So what brought you back?” I asked.

  “Schedule got changed, so Tammy’s not on today after all. Talked to Imogene for a bit, but she’s a fruity old bat, and I couldn’t see much use to hang around the library, so I headed on back—”

  “—and our friend is still here,” I finished.

  “Like I said. Suspicious.”

  “So what do we do?” Laura asked.

  “Oh, that one’s easy,” Eddie said. “We kill the bastard.”

  Nine

  I grabbed hold of Eddie’s elbow, tugging him back. Our interloper might be a demon, sure. He might also be lost, visiting friends, or just plain nosy. Irritating and rude, maybe, but not necessarily demonic. “How about we try something a little less dramatic,” I suggested.

  “Eh? Like what?”

  “Something radical and unexpected,” I said. “Like asking him what he’s doing.”

  He snorted. “Well, sure. If you’re gonna be all pansy-ass about it.”

  I caught Laura’s eye, and for a moment I feared for her safety. She was laughing so hard, I was certain she would fall to the ground and bang her head on the cement.

  “Wait here,” I said to both of them.

  The mysterious stranger glanced toward us once while we were talking, but when I turned my head in his direction, he was studiously looking everywhere but at my house. And the instant I stepped into the street, he started walking down the sidewalk. Definitely suspicious. I crossed at a diagonal, reaching into my purse for the pump bottle of hair spray I’d cleaned out and filled with holy water. I sprayed a bit on both palms, then replaced the bottle and closed my hand around my knife, keeping the blade concealed inside my bag.

  Mystery man walked faster, and I hurried to catch up, finally intercepting him in front of Wanda Abernathy’s house.

  “Hi,” I said, sticking my hand out and trying to look like a friendly—if pushy—suburban mom. “I noticed you looked a little lost, and I thought maybe I could help.”

  “I . . . oh. Yes.” He took my hand, and there was no sizzling, popping, or burning. In the demon-hunting world, that’s a good thing. I still didn’t know who the stranger was, but at least I knew he wasn’t a demon.

  “You are most kind,” he said with a hint of Eastern European accent. Prague, maybe? I couldn’t be sure. “But I am not lost.”

  “Deidre? Is that you, honey?”

  I turned and found Mrs. Abernathy standing in her doorway holding an umbrella and a can of Lysol. “It’s me, Kate. From across the street. Sorry if we’re bothering you.”

  “Is he a friend of yours, dear? Because I was just about to call the police. I can’t abide loitering. Too many people loitering in my yard lately. Hiding in the bushes. Creeping up the steps. Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable!”

  “He’s not a friend, and I was just explaining that to him.”

  “Yes, I am not loitering,” he said. He turned to Mrs. Abernathy. “I am not bad man.”

  She squinted at him through Coke-bottle glasses, then lifted her chin and turned her inspection toward me. “How is your committee coming, dear? Deidre is bringing the grand-babies, you know. Tucker is so excited about the Easter Bunny.”

  “Um,” I said, not as easily convinced as Mrs. Abernathy that our neighborhood stranger wasn’t a bad man. “It’s going great, but right now . . .” I trailed off, indicating the stranger.

  “Oh, yes, of course. You take care of it, Carla, dear.” She waggled a finger at me. “Always a pleasure to see you again.”

  “You better get on inside now,” I said gently. I pointed toward her umbrella. “It’s going to rain, and you don’t want to get wet.”

  “Oh yes. Yes.” She closed the umbrella, then shuffled backwards. I took a deep breath, hating how helpless I always felt after talking with Wanda, and irritated with her daughter for not pushing harder to get the elderly woman into Coastal Mists or some other assisted-living facility.

  At the moment, though, Mrs. Abernathy wasn’t my prime concern. In front of me, the stranger was rummaging in a battered leather messenger bag. I tensed, my hand tightening around my knife in anticipation of an attack.

  None came. Instead, he handed me a colorful flyer with CARNIVAL written across the top in beautifully skilled calligraphy. “We are near the boardwalk. Much fun for the family. You will come, yes?”

  “Ah,” I said. “Well, it certainly looks—”

  “You will come.” He gave a firm nod of his head, as if that were the end of that.

  Since I wasn’t inclined to argue the point, I shifted gears. “So you’ve been passing out flyers? How come you’ve been so long in this spot?”

  “I eat my lunch,” he said, then rummaged again, this time coming up with a crumpled paper bag. He held it open to me, revealing a banana peel, an empty bottle of water, and the crust of a sandwich of dubious innards. “Is okay?” he asked.

  “Sure thing,” I said, with what I hoped was a cheery smile. “You go right on delivering your flyers.”

  “Thank you, miss. Thank you.” He backed a few steps away, first yanking off his hat to hold it at his chest, as if he were a poor peasant and I the generous landowner who’d just granted him a new cow. After a few yards, during which I feared he’d topple backwards, he turned and hurried down the block, this time with his nose in the direction he was traveling.

  I watched him go, then went back across the street to my driveway. I handed the flyer to Eddie and watched while he read it.

  “Damn demons come up with cleverer and cleverer cover stories every day,” he said.

  “He wasn’t a demon. I had holy water on my hand. And his breath smelled perfectly fine.”

  Eddie snorted, looked at me, then shook his head as if I’d failed him utterly. “Got the cojones, maybe. But you’re still a damn sight naïve.”

  "Slow down around this curve!” Laura said, her voice a little frantic. Eddie had volunteered to stay with the kids—a miracle as far as I was concerned—and although he wasn’t my top choice of a sitter for Timmy, the kids had survived the morning without injury or a total nervous breakdown, so I figured we were safe.

  Now, Laura was clutching the handhold above the passenger door, her body twisted so she could look toward the back of the van.

  “I’m only going twenty-five,” I said. “What’s with you and the speed today?” Earlier, she’d warned me I was going far too fast over a speed bump. I’d been going just shy of seven miles an hour.

  “That,” she said, pointing to the back of the van where the tub was sliding around. “What if the lid pops off? What if we’re trapped in the van with those parts?”

  I hid my sm
ile. “For one, I don’t think we’d be trapped. This thing’s got a remarkable number of doors. And two, I hacked all the fingers off the hands. At worst, we’d have ten little worms squirming around the van. Gross, but not really a threat.”

  She scrunched her face up. “I’m overreacting, aren’t I?”

  “Not to the situation,” I said. “I don’t think it’s possible to overreact to zombies in the backyard. Teeny-tiny zombie parts trapped in a tub, though . . .”

  “Overreaction,” she said. “I get it.” She tilted her head to the side. “Okay, here’s something I don’t get. The Lazarus Bones.”

  Cold, guilty fingers scurried up my spine. “Oh,” I said, stupidly. I hadn’t told her about what happened with David, and the only other people who knew were Allie, Eddie, and David himself. And though Eddie was the wild card of the bunch, I still didn’t believe any of them had shared my secret.

  I’m honestly not sure why I hadn’t told Laura what happened with David. I’d told her right away, after I’d learned that David was really Eric, but the fact that I’d raised David from the dead hadn’t been as easy to reveal. I’m not sure why. She’s my best friend, and I’d told her about broken rules before, but this rule . . .

  This rule was different. It wasn’t like running a red light, or even like telling her what I did for Forza despite my secrecy oath. No, by bringing David back from the dead, I’d broken God’s rules. Worse, I’d played God. And I feared that my selfishness had scarred not only my own soul, but David’s, too. And that kind of fear I held close to my heart, hiding it behind an emotional wall of regret and desperation.

  Even so, I think that under other circumstances, I would have finally broken down and told Laura the truth. She was, after all, my best friend, and keeping secrets from her ripped me in a way that caused almost physical pain. But Laura had lost her husband. Her high school sweetheart. The man she’d believed she would grow old with.

  I, however . . .

  I was now both cursed and blessed with the two men in my life whom I loved more than anything. And to tell that to Laura now seemed too much like twisting the knife deeper into her already broken heart.

  I swallowed. “So, um, what about the Lazarus Bones?”

  “Not them so much as Goramesh,” Laura continued, oblivious to my internal meanderings. “You know, when he came here to find the bones? He wanted to raise a whole army of the undead, right? I mean, wasn’t that the point of all that?”

  “Absolutely.” The High Demon Goramesh had come to San Diablo at the end of last summer, shattering forever my illusion that my hometown was a demon-free zone and jump-starting my return to active duty with Forza. “So what don’t you get?”

  “But why did he bother? I mean, if they can make zombies any old time.”

  “Not any time,” I clarified. “It’s a big deal.”

  “But so was stealing the Lazarus Bones,” she countered. “So what was the advantage?”

  “Camouflage,” I said. “Remember back when Eddie told us how the Lazarus Bones worked? The bones restore the body back to its physical state at the time of death.”

  “Right, right,” she said, obviously remembering the key points from last summer. “So the army of the undead would look like you or me instead of something out of Night of the Living Dead.”

  “Exactly. And since the bodies would have a demon in them—and not merely animated flesh—they’d blend in easily. Unless someone notices their really gross breath or happens to spill a vial of holy water on them.”

  “Oh, wow,” Laura said. “That’s something I never really thought of before.”

  “What?” I asked, taking my eyes off the road to look at her.

  “How much they blend in,” she explained. “I pretty much picture you fighting them, getting rid of them, and that being that. But what about the ones you don’t know about? I mean, he could be one,” she said, pointing out the window at a well-hued pedestrian. “Or they could be my waiter. Or my doctor.” Her lip curled. “It’s really not one of my happier thoughts.”

  “Especially since you’re dating your doctor,” I added.

  “I can assure you his breath is perfectly fine,” she said, her expression prim. “But you know what I mean, right?”

  I nodded; I did know. I’d learned that lesson a long, long time ago. “There’s always been evil in the world, Laura,” I said. “All that’s changed is that you know about one more package.”

  “Somehow,” she retorted, “that doesn’t make me feel better.”

  I had forgotten that this was the Saturday before Palm Sunday, and we found Father Ben with the bishop in a flurry of preparations, surrounded by a half dozen deacons, liturgical ministers, and church volunteers.

  Father Ben was head to head with Delores, the volunteer coordinator, going over something on a clipboard. He glanced up, and I managed a friendly little wave that I hope conveyed that we hadn’t dropped by merely for a social call.

  He finished up, then hurried to us. “Kate, is this an official visit? This isn’t a very good time.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But yeah. It’s a business call.”

  He cast a glance over his shoulder toward the bishop, confirming that the other man was busy with two of the deacons. Then Father Ben pressed a hand on my shoulder and eased me out into the foyer, Laura tagging along behind. “What’s happened?” he asked in a low whisper.

  I gave him the quick rundown, skimming over the fact that I had circumvented his authority to go to Father Corletti at the outset. It was a point that Father Ben picked up on right away—and about which he didn’t seem to care. There’s another reason I really like that man.

  “Hopefully Forza will be able to provide more information, ” he said when I was done. “The Sword of Caelum certainly isn’t anything within my expertise.” He tilted his head and lifted one shoulder, the effect mildly self-deprecating. “Not too unusual, though. I’m still new at this.”

  “But getting more knowledgeable by the day. And how better to become even more of an expert than by cross-referencing all of my old reports. Maybe somewhere along the line some demon made a reference to this prophecy. I wouldn’t have understood it at the time, but I reported everything every demon said word for word.”

  “That’s a really good idea,” Laura said.

  “It’s worth a shot, anyway. Right?” I asked Ben. It was a long shot, but it was also the only thing I could think of. Considering the information from Father Corletti, I had a feeling only a limited few within the demon population knew about the prophecy. So the odds that a demon had relayed a clue to me were slim. Still, we had to look. And it probably made more sense than plugging “Kate Connor prophecy Sword Caelum” into Google. That really was a long shot.

  Beside me, Laura shifted. “I guess that means I’m out of a job?”

  “You have tenure,” I promised.

  “And I can certainly use assistance,” Ben said. “Particularly this week.” He looked solemnly at me. “Kate, I’m sorry, but finding time is going to be difficult.”

  “I know,” I said. “But—”

  “I will do everything I can,” Father Ben assured me. “And Laura will assist me, I’m certain.”

  “Absolutely,” Laura agreed. “It will be a relief to know what I’m looking at rather than slogging blindly through cyberspace. Do you already have Kate’s old reports?”

  “Most of them have been shipped here,” Father said. “As her new alimentatore, it is one of my duties to review and analyze past reports, and to summarize and index them if that hasn’t already been done.”

  “Lucky you,” Laura said. “But it does sound like that’s the way to go. I’m totally your girl for helping.”

  “Wonderful,” Father Ben said. “Now if you’ll—”

  “Hang on a second,” I cut in. “I’m not sure that Larua going through those reports is the best idea. There are things in those files—”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, picking up on my concern
. “Nothing will surprise me. Truly.”

  I considered arguing but held my tongue. She’d be surprised, I knew. Even after all the things she’d seen, when she read the reports of my youth, I knew that she’d be very, very surprised.

  “Father Ben!” Delores’s shrill voice carried all the way to our far corner of the foyer. “Yoo-hoo! The bishop needs you again.”

  “Of course,” he said, turning. “Tell him I’ll only be a moment. Ladies,” he said, turning back to us. “I’ll be in touch shortly.”

  He took a step away, and I instinctively reached for him even as Laura called out, “Wait!”

  He stopped and faced us, and I saw the panic on his face. “There’s more?”

  “Um, yeah.” I licked my lips. “We need to get a package into the crypts. Can we go around back without being noticed? ”

  “The demon’s body?” His forehead creased. “I thought you said it was missing.”

  “Not the demon. The zombie.”

  “Animated body parts?” His voice echoed through the foyer, and he looked around, making sure no one had overheard. He leaned close and lowered his voice again. “Kate, you can’t be serious.”

  I goggled at him because, of course, I was completely serious. When he didn’t immediately break into a smile and assure me he was teasing, I got a little concerned. For months now, we’d been hiding the bodies of dead demons in the crypts below the cathedral. It wasn’t the best solution, but it was better than leaving San Diablo strewn with the bodies of newly vacated demon hosts. Especially since local law enforcement tended to get antsy when they stumbled across dead bodies.

  “Kate,” Father Ben said, filling the gap left by my extremely loud silence. “A dead body is one thing. But animated body parts? What if someone heard them scratching around in there? What if those fingers managed to scrape away some mortar and get out?”

  “But . . . but . . .” That was all I could come up with, because Father Ben had raised some valid concerns.

  “But that means Kate will still have a tub of body parts in the back of her car,” Laura volunteered.

  “Yes!” I said, jumping all over that. “What if Stuart opens it?”