Demon Retribution (Shadow Quest Book 3)

by Kiersten Fay

  Kyra switched to another news station, only to find that there was a new pill to balance the effects of some other antidepressant drug. She gave up on the news and headed toward the bathroom.

  The water felt nice, relaxing. Zoey’s shampoo was overly fragrant, but did the job. While she worked it into her hair, she let her mind drift. It was obvious Zo was very upset, which was to be expected, but she was holding it inside, and probably, after today, wouldn’t let it out again. At least not in front of anyone.

  Cradling emotions was never healthy. Keeping them caged, locked away, they fester and grow. Mutate. And somewhere, nestled snugly in the dark backdrop of every mind, was a seedy black corner where a gnarled troll throws them steroids like Mardi Gras beads.

  Then, without fail, after there’s no more space inside, they find a crack in the foundation. Claw their way out through muscle and bone.

  It was a safe bet, however, that Zo’s emotions, if left unchecked, wouldn’t cause a minor catastrophe. Not in the way Kyra’s would.

  When it was Zoey’s turn in the shower, Kyra once again switched through the news channels, until the stories started to repeat. Guess no one found a body yet. Or possibly he’d made it to a hospital before bleeding out. Maybe her shots had been off. She shuddered at the intruding thought. She had to admit, she’d been pretty drunk. And it was hard not to consider that she’d imagined him dropping five stories from her balcony.

  A fall like that should have opened him like a tomato.

  Still, a whole day had passed, and no news.

  Okay, she thought. Maybe this is a good thing. No body meant no authorities. No investigation. No reason for her to run. Right? Except, if he wasn’t dead, he might come back. Try again. Worse, find a new target. She grimaced, remembering the athletic shape of his arms and the strong build of his shoulders. At least she knew she could deal with him, but others weren’t blessed with her heightened senses or strength. If she left now and found that he’d lived to hurt another, the guilt would follow her for years. At the same time, staying was a risk.

  She deluded herself into believing she was actually pondering the decision, the whole time knowing her choice. It really didn’t take a lot of convincing.

  So, she’d stay and wait it out. Just a little longer. Keeping an eye on the news, of course, in case someone stumbled upon a body. That way she wouldn’t have to abandon Zoey...for the moment.

  When Zo left for Little Jitters, Kyra headed back to her apartment. But instead of going right home, she took a stroll through Central Park, stopping at her favorite spots—areas where the greenery grew so thick she could hardly see past it to the sky, and where the floral smells almost overpowered the diesel filled air.

  The earth crunched under her feet as she went off path to a hidden rocky stairway. Next to it lay a small, mossy pond surrounded by tall trees and a colorful arrangement of flowers. The view was like something out of Alice in Wonderland, only without all the giant mushrooms and death threats.

  Her apartment came into view as she continued on, enjoying her surroundings. It wasn’t too late in the season. Still warm, yet no longer scorching. But hints of an early autumn were already beginning to paint the leaves.

  At the door of her apartment, she experienced a split second of hesitation, and then went inside. It was just as she left it. Suitcase, still half full, on the bed. The bloody evidence of her intruder marked her floor and part of the sofa. And her shirt from the night before, apparently. She picked up the delicate fabric that she now recalled drunkenly flinging off her body while staggering to bed.

  “Dammit!” She really liked that shirt.

  Red-brown splotches marked one arm and part of the front. With a frown, she balled it up and tossed it in the trash, then flicked on the news, putting the volume just high enough so she could listen.

  Rummaging under her sink, she found some half used carpet and fabric cleaner, then set in to scrubbing the mess.

  Hours later she relented, and was left with a broken pattern of wet dark spots. She would need to replace the carpet.

  Before she resigned to sleep, she checked the locks on the balcony and main door. Then she slid the golden chain into place for the first time since she’d moved in. After hours of jerking awake at every little noise, she finally fell into a deep sleep.

  In the days that followed, Kyra began to relax. Nothing popped up on the news, no one came knocking, and there were no surprise visitors at four in the morning. She remained hopeful that the man had perished on a hospital bed, and it just wasn’t newsworthy information.

  But it didn’t change the fact that she had been in New York far too long. Maybe not now, but soon, she would have to leave. Every time she thought about it, she’d push it from her mind.

  She’d started the process of “Operation Uncle” and had already placed twenty grand in a series of safety deposit boxes. On top of that, there would be stocks, bonds, and an IRA. Kyra would make it so that Zoey’s great-great grandchildren would be set for life.

  She couldn’t really explain why she felt so compelled to help Zoey, or why she’d allowed the friendship to blossom to the point that it had. There had been a connection between them that had been almost instant.

  Kyra had attached herself to people before, but not to this degree. Usually, an acquaintance, neighbor, or partner in business would turn into a friend. For the most part, it had been for show. The convenience of looking normal. Unlike Zoey, the others had been easy to leave. There had been no thought of their well-being or futures.

  The only excuse she could provide was that Zoey just felt like…family.

  Kyra dressed for work and, as if she were developing OCD, once again checked the locks before she left.

  As she crossed the street, she couldn’t shake a sense of unease, though there was no indication that anything was off.

  She had no idea that tonight, everything would change.

  Chapter 4

  Kyra arrived at Little Jitters before Zo, who needed to run an errand. Joe had volunteered to cover for her.

  For some, in the city that never sleeps, dinnertime was breakfast time, so Kyra and Joe were kept busy enough that there was little conversation between them.

  Joe was already three hours into Zo’s shift, but he didn’t complain. His eagerness to see her was evident, and his crush was obvious to everyone…except Zo. Unfortunately for him, he was a nice guy, and Zo just didn’t do nice guys.

  When the dinner crowd died down, Kyra suggested, “Joe, you should take off already. You’re scheduled to open tomorrow.” At his head shake, she added, “I’m sure Zo will show up soon. And even if she doesn’t, I can handle it from here.”

  “Ky, you’re nuts if you think I’m going to leave you here alone.”

  Kyra shrugged. “Fine, if you want to be zombified in the morning, I won’t stop you.”

  Ten minutes later, the door chimed as Zoey squeezed through, carrying a heavy tin object. The shape of it was distinct.

  Kyra straightened. “Is that…?”

  Zoey grimaced, then said in a mock sweet tone, “Mom, you remember Ky. Ky, Mom.”

  She eyed the urn warily. “Zo, you’re not going weird on me, are you?”

  “No more than usual,” Zoey replied, then set the urn on the counter and entered her employee number into the computer. “I had to pick her up today. I would have taken her home first, but traffic was a bitch. Did Joe leave already?”

  “Nah, he’s in the back doing inventory.”

  “Jojo!” Zoey hollered.

  He appeared moments later. “Hey, Zoey! How are you?” The urn drew his eye like a magnet. “What’s…uh?”

  She grabbed the container and stored it under the register. “Mom just wanted to see what I do for a living,” she joked, but her expression became a sad impression of a smile. “Thanks for staying so late, Joe. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Any time. If you wanted me to work the rest of your shift, it’s really not a problem.�
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  “That’s okay. But, thanks. I’m already here anyway, may as well get in a few hours.”

  Reluctantly, Joe clocked out. “Alright, I’ll see you girls later then.”

  “Yeah, thanks again, Joe.”

  He waved from the door before ducking out.

  With an analytical eye on Zoey, Kyra asked, “So, how are you, really?”

  Zoey released a breath. “I’m okay. Just feeling a little drained, is all.”

  “Well, you have the day off tomorrow. You should rent, like, five or six funny movies and just veg out.”

  “No, I took Marco’s shift tomorrow.”

  “Why?” she said slowly.

  Zoey brought one of the coffee pots to her nose, sniffed, then tossed it and began a new brew. “I need to save up for a trip.”

  Sighing, Kyra refrained from arguing, deciding instead to change the subject. “Do you know where you’re going to take her?”

  “Not yet. I’ve never been anywhere, so I really don’t know of any exotic tropical places. Maybe Hawaii?”

  They spent the next few hours, when they weren’t serving customers, discussing the world’s most beautiful destinations. Zo wanted a place that wasn’t too touristy. Something secluded and quiet with mountains and trees, and a small river or stream nearby. But nothing too far away. She wanted to be able to re-visit the area without going into debt.

  Kyra offered many suggestions, but thirty minutes from closing time they were still debating. Zo’s list of criteria just kept growing till they were both at a loss. “Okay, Zo,” she said, giving up for the moment. “Do you want to do anything tonight?”

  Zoey went rigid and averted her gaze. “I sort of agreed to go over to Kevin’s later.”

  Kyra groaned.

  “Just to talk. And I’m not staying.”

  An outraged protest stuck in Kyra’s throat. “I’m going to take out the trash.” Hiding her irritation, she drifted through the café, gathering all the garbage bags and shoving them into one large bundle. Zoey proceeded to wipe down the already spotless counter.

  Outside, Kyra took a heavy breath of crisp cool air and trudged to the community bins. One of the tall buildings stole most of the moonlight, making her rely on the dim, artificial lighting.

  The usual rotting smells were particularly defined tonight. Holding her breath, she lifted the heavy lid and added to the already stuffed bin, then let it crash back in place, backing away quickly for a hit of fresh air. As she did, she bumped into something that hadn’t previously been behind her.

  Stunned, she twirled around and bit back a horrified scream.

  The monstrous being stood on two feet, but could in no way could pass for human. A bulbous forehead cast its deeply concaved eye sockets in shadow, and behind the darkness, where the eyes should be, were cloudy white balls threaded with veins.

  Sharply angled jowls, tethered to the neck by thick rope-like muscles, added to the harsh planes of its hideous face. The skin, if it could be called that, clung tightly to bones that all looked painfully out of place. A long, dark robe covered the rest of its body, and she thanked every divine entity she could think of for that.

  Her jaw froze open, and she choked on a silent scream.

  Her feet were stuck, glued to the spot, and her mind wasn’t working correctly. It seemed her heart was the only thing running on high alert. But she could feel herself pulling it together. Any second now she would act. A step back was all she could manage before a series of abrupt clicks drew her eyes to a second beast.

  Low to the ground, its four legs jutted out like some kind of spider. It had a long jaw and terrifyingly sharp teeth that dripped with sticky saliva. Its eyes were black and cold.

  Another scream bubbled, along with the burning sensation of bile, in her throat.

  The tall one spoke then. His voice too even for what she was seeing—deceivingly smooth, nearly sensual. “Good evening, Princess.”

  She stumbled back into the metal bin and pressed against it as if she could force herself through to the other side. Her heart rate reached a painful speed. When the creature before her smiled, she was vaguely aware that she’d never seen anything so frightening.

  “W-Who are you?” Her words were barely audible.

  “I’ve been sent to find you,” he replied coolly. “I wish to take you home.”

  “Home?”

  “Yes, to Evlon.”

  Her eyes went wide. “D-Did my father send you?”

  His hesitation was so minute, she almost missed it. “Yes.”

  Her eyes darted between the small spider-thing and the humanoid. The sense of danger turned thick. She could practically taste it on the back of her tongue.

  From a stairwell behind them, a dark figure descended, landing with soft thud. Both creatures turned to look. The spider-thing snarled.

  The man crouched on his haunches, his face familiar. She instantly recognized the hat, but he dressed differently today: a simple white button-down shirt and dark jeans.

  His features were twisted in a menacing rage that looked out of place on him. His gaze fixed on the taller of the two beings.

  Seemingly unalarmed by the newcomer, the humanoid asked, “And who are you?”

  “Vengeance,” the man spat in a tone that made her shudder, her pulse hammering anew.

  In a single breath, he tore across the alley and slammed his fist into the humanoid’s face.

  The small creature bared its fangs and leapt to protect its master. Without thinking, Kyra reached out and closed her fist around one of its stringy legs. Using the creature’s own momentum, she whipped its body around like a tetherball, bringing the creature down hard onto the black pavement.

  The creature screeched in pain and then fixed its eyes on her. It pushed against the ground and launched at her, hooking its clawed limbs around her torso.

  She lifted her forearm to restrain its body and struggled to hold back the snapping jaw. A gust of wind lifted her hair and the creature caught hold of it, ripping a few strands free in its frenzy to snatch off her face.

  She lost her footing and fell back against the pavement, inadvertently bringing the creature on top of her. Slick strings of saliva dripped over her face, while the disgusting sounds of gurgled snarls and repetitive clicking filled her ears.

  The dark body of the humanoid flew over her, slamming with a loud bang into the face of the trash bin. He pulled to a stand before shouting to the creature in a dialect she’d never heard. The spider-thing instantly stopped trying to gouge her with its teeth and backed away, refocusing on hat-man.

  She gasped for air, her heart pounding painfully, and scooted backwards while trying to quell her panic. In the span of a second, she assessed the situation. The spider-thing pounced at hat-man while the humanoid loomed over her. His face twisted in rage, making him look even more monstrous.

  Finally her mind snapped into place and instinct linked with every coiled muscle.

  As the humanoid’s bony hand reached for her, she rolled on her back, grabbed his wrist, and brought her knee up hard into his forearm. She heard a crack. The monster howled and stumbled back as he gripped just above the spot where bone split the skin. His hand dangled limp and useless.

  She expected to see some kind of evidence in the blood that would prove these things had been conjured straight from hell, but it ran red, like any other living creature.

  The other fight was in full swing, and the man seemed to be holding his own against the spider-creature. She tried to ignore them to focus on her own struggle, but then something happened that was impossible not to watch. The man gripped the animal’s front legs near the shoulders and it screeched so loud she had to cover her ears. The sound cut off as the creature’s body ripped down some invisible line. Gore spewed everywhere.

  Suddenly, long fingers threaded through her hair and the humanoid’s claws dug into her scalp. She gripped his wrist as he yanked her backward, causing her heels and butt to scrape along the dirty pavement.
Ignoring the pain, she swiped her leg up and planted the tip of her boot into his chest. He bellowed, but didn’t release his hold as he continued to drag her away by her hair. Pain radiated over her scalp.

  Abruptly, the movement ceased as hat-man approached like a stalking beast, eyeing her captor. The reflection of dim light off his irises made them look red. With unimaginable force, the humanoid heaved her to the side. Her neck screamed from the abuse. Tender skin scraped asphalt as she rolled to a stop.

  Glancing back, she saw the two going at each other like some titan clash. The man had lost his hat. His blond spikes glistened in the low light as he knocked an object away from the humanoid. It skidded to a stop in front of her.

  A gun? It looked like no weapon she had ever seen. She didn’t see a trigger, or any indication of how to work it.

  She swallowed a painful lump, tasting the metallic tang of blood.

  Attention back on the battle, she watched the man flip the humanoid over his back, bringing him hard to the ground. Then, using his entire body, his fist crashed down into his adversary’s skull.

  Crunch.

  The monster went limp.

  But that wasn’t enough. He brought his fist back and another sickening crunch had her forcing back a gag. And then again.

  Her chest heaved, her body hurt, and her pulse raced faster than it ever had. But this was her chance to escape, while the man was still distracted.

  She managed three steps.

  His head snapped up at her movement, and she paused. A dark shadow hid his expression. The air left her as the pounding in her chest went into hyper-drive. Then she dove for the backdoor of Little Jitters, slamming it shut and snapping the lock into place.

  Her heavy gasps sounded like a broken motor in the silence that surrounded her. She forced her shock-frozen eyes to blink. They felt like sandpaper.

  The front door chimed.

  Her heart stopped just as Zoey’s scream rang out.