Monster in My Closet

by R. L. Naquin

  I could hear her breathing in big gulps of air as if she were trying to calm herself. “She’s…Mandy’s gone.” Her breath hitched and she was quiet again for a moment, gathering herself together. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. “We found her two days ago. My girl is gone.”

  Two days ago? The bastard waited two days to taunt me with it. For a second, I imagined spiking him through the heart with a wooden stake. But of course, that was vampires. I hadn’t figured out yet what to do about an incubus. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Talbot. She was a wonderful girl. If there’s anything I can do…” I didn’t know how to end that sentence. There was nothing anyone could ever do. This poor woman’s daughter was dead. I couldn’t cancel arrangements for her because we hadn’t made it that far into the planning stages. And let’s not forget, it was my fault.

  “You’ve already done more than you know,” she said. “She was different after we saw you. I don’t know what you said, but I had my little girl back for a few days. At least,” she paused as her voice cracked, “at least I knew before she left me that she didn’t hate me.”

  She cried for a while. I cried with her. I was never so grateful to have my walls up and strong as I was during that conversation. I shared my tears with her. I wasn’t mirroring her emotions back at her. I was beginning to understand how regular people interacted with each other. It was possible to share emotions between people by expressing them instead of psychically exchanging them.

  I was exhausted when I hung up the phone. Apparently, dealing with my own emotions was as much work as dealing with the ones that used to leak in from other people. I had so much to learn about my gifts, as well as how others functioned without them. It was all so new, and time was so short.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The day had begun sunny, but like any other Bay Area day, had gone from cheery to overcast when I wasn’t looking—much like my mood.

  I made my way down the sidewalk, anxious and toying with my amulet. Every dark-haired man who passed, every splotch of red, made me catch my breath and clutch my necklace tighter. It remained warm in my palm. If I didn’t walk out in front of a bus or get struck by lightning, I was safe. Considering my luck lately, that was a pretty big if.

  The only weapon I had against Sebastian was knowledge. The few hours I’d spent with Aggie had given me a few insights, but I needed more. I had a load of books in my magic bag that I hadn’t yet plumbed. If anyone could help me dig out the wisdom they might offer, it was Andrew.

  I pulled the door open and stepped inside Andrew’s shop. He was in a corner talking in a low voice with a customer. He glanced over and smiled at me before returning his attention to the woman next to him. I took a step forward and was nearly sent sprawling by a ball of fluff flinging itself against my legs.

  “Hey, Milo. Come on up here, sweetheart.” I scooped up the little fox and took him to settle with me on the couch at the back of the room. He was excited and raced up and down from the floor to my lap and back again, his tongue flapping in a foxy grin. I pulled him up and pinned him so he’d hold still for affection. When I rubbed his ears, he flopped on his belly and gazed up at me with adoring eyes.

  I heard the door swing open and shut, then Andrew stood over me, grinning.

  “I was going to tell you we missed you,” he said, “but I guess Milo beat me to it.”

  “It’s appreciated from both of you,” I said.

  Andrew plopped into the overstuffed chair near me. “I have had the weirdest day. Three different people came in here today asking for marijuana. Seriously. Two of them actually argued with me that I was holding out on them.”

  “Well, it is an herb shop.”

  “Funny girl. ’Cause I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Did you look them right in the eye and ask them if they were police officers?”

  “I did not. Cop or no, I’m not selling weed out of my store to anybody. I’d very much like to keep my business and not go to jail.”

  I wondered if he sold it outside his store and decided I didn’t want to know.

  “Bruce is gone,” I said to change the subject.

  He leaned forward. “Gone gone or dead gone?”

  “Sorry. He went home, I guess. He left me this.” I slipped the chain over my head and handed Andrew the amulet.

  He examined it and gave a low whistle. “That is some serious blingage.”

  I nodded. “It freezes when I’m in trouble, too. Sort of an early warning system.”

  He handed it over and I put it on, tucking it under my shirt. “Doesn’t exactly match every outfit, but when did that ever stop me from wearing something?”

  He looked me up and down with a critical eye. “Nice skirt. Thinking of switching jobs to magician’s assistant?”

  I grimaced. “Don’t you start on me, too.”

  He spotted the purse sitting on the floor. “Do my eyes lie? This is not the handbag of a homeless person. Somebody went shopping.”

  “Nope. Somebody lives with a houseful of brownies and left her sample book on the kitchen counter.”

  “No!” He picked it up to examine it closer.

  I smiled. “Oh, yes. Go ahead. Get something out.”

  He reached in and pulled out my phone. “You have a text,” he said.

  I took the phone. “Keep digging.”

  He pulled out my wallet. “It’s roomier than it looks.”

  “Don’t stop.”

  He reached in again and pulled out a banana, then my small toolkit. “This is freaky.”

  I motioned for him to hand me the purse and he passed it over. “Watch this.”

  I stuck my hand in, felt around, then pulled a big book out of the tiny opening. It landed on the table in a cloud of dust.

  “All right, show-off. I’m impressed. Please, no elephants. I’m not zoned for large animals.”

  I snorted. “One more thing.” I made fancy motions with my hands, like a magician over a top hat. I reached in and pulled out a plastic container. “Ta da!” I said with a flourish. “Muffins!”

  “Much better than an elephant.”

  “I like elephants.”

  We ate while I told him everything that happened since seeing him on Saturday, and what I planned to do about it.

  “You know you’re insane,” he said, taking a bite. “You should be huddling underground in a bunker, and you want to go looking for him.”

  I bobbed my head and grinned. “Uh huh. Insane. Will you help me?”

  “Of course I’ll help you. Although I should tie you up and take you back to Maurice.”

  “Kinky.”

  “You wish.”

  I pulled out two more books from Aggie and propped the first one open. “Help me figure out how to find a demon that’s running around downtown. He has to go somewhere when he’s not stalking me or killing people I know.”

  We flipped through the book, grimacing at some of the gruesome pictures.

  He tapped his finger on a page. “How about this? ‘Demons of the third tier are bidden to return each fortnight to the location of their causing.’ What’s that—’causing’?”

  I shrugged. “What’s a third-tier demon?” I turned the page. “‘Demons of sensuous nature are restricted to one prime victim or sub-victims of the original.’ I’d say that’s a big yes on being a demon of a sensuous nature. He’s the biggest pervert I’ve ever met.” I shuddered.

  Andrew frowned. “What the hell is this book?”

  I closed it and looked at the cover. The letters swam around in curlicues and didn’t form any words I could recognize. “Aggie handed me the pile of books and said they might help. I have no idea where they came from. This one reads like a Demon Handbook.”

  “‘Restricted to one prime victim or sub-victims.’” He look
ed thoughtful. “I think that’s you, Zoey. You’re the prime. Sub-victims are people you’ve been in contact with, people who contain some of your energy.”

  “That’s cheery. At least we know he can’t go after just anybody.”

  Andrew fanned through the pages and stopped at a page with a faded color picture of a good-looking man and a beautiful woman. They both looked arrogant and cruel. “Ha! Found you, you bastard.”

  I leaned forward. The heading at the top of the page said Incubi and Succubi.

  The print was faded and difficult to read, but I could still make it out.

  “‘The incubus and succubus are second-tier demons. As such, they have no clearance to move outside of a three-kilometer radius of their point of arrival in the human world.’” I flipped to the cover and frowned. Kilometers? Clearance? When was this book written? There was no copyright mark, so it was impossible to tell. The cover was ancient, but the writing was more modern. There was no fathoming the ways of the demon world. I returned my attention to the article and continued reading.

  “‘Any distinguishing marks left on victims that put the demon community in jeopardy will not be tolerated.

  “‘Feeding outside the prime victim’s circle is prohibited.

  “‘Violation of any and all rules will be punished immediately, and license to travel in the human world will be revoked.’”

  I turned the page. A full-page picture of a demonic bunny stared up at me. I slammed the book shut. “Looks like that’s it.”

  “Not much to go on.”

  “Nope. So, he can’t leave the city, he can’t leave any suspicious marks, and he can’t have anyone but me and those I’ve come in contact with.”

  “It’s good to know he’s got some rules, at least.”

  “It didn’t tell me how to find him, though. I can’t exactly stand out on the street all day as bait, hoping he’ll come along.”

  “No, and I can think of several of us who wouldn’t allow it.” He went still and quiet, staring at me. He’d done it once before, so I knew what he was up to. He was reading my aura.

  I stayed quiet so he could concentrate. It made me self-conscious and a little twitchy. After a few minutes, he relaxed.

  “Honey, I think there might be another way to get to him.”

  “You read his cell phone number from my aura?”

  “No, but almost as good. The dreams you’ve been having—he’s been sending them to you, right?”

  “As far as I can tell.”

  “If he can get to you that way, maybe it goes both ways.”

  “You want me to hunt him down in my dreams.”

  “Sort of, yeah. Your aura looks so much better than when I met you. But you have this dark spot, and it trails behind you like a dirty piece of twine.”

  “He tagged me.”

  “I guess. It doesn’t look healthy, and I’ve never seen anything like it. So to my mind, you have three choices. One, ignore it, two, try to hack through it, or three, follow it and see where it goes.”

  “You’re hoping I’ll go for option two, aren’t you.”

  “Hoping, yes. Expecting? Not on your life.”

  “Good call. I have no intention of ignoring it or letting the son of a bitch go before I’m done with him.”

  “What can you do in your dreams? You already said you locked him in a coffin. Can’t you just leave him there to rot? Cut the cord and be done with him.”

  I shook my head and ran my fingers through Milo’s soft fur. “I suppose I could. But that doesn’t lock him up in real life. As long as he’s still connected to me, he’s out there in reality, stealing lives. If he doesn’t know I’m coming for him, maybe I can find out where he spends his waking hours. And once I do, I’m pulling the plug. If I can’t keep him locked up, and I can’t kill him, maybe I can at least take away his food supply. And then, maybe we can figure out how the hell to send him back home.”

  Andrew picked at a loose thread on the arm of his chair. “What if you can’t find him?”

  “I can still cut him off. One problem at a time.”

  “God, Zoey. Be careful.”

  I shrugged, but my nonchalance was fake. “I’m being as careful as I can. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll wear steel-toed boots in case I get another whack at his family jewels.”

  “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  * * *

  Maurice was adamantly set against my plan.

  “Why would you intentionally engage with him, Zoey? No good can come of it.”

  He puttered around the kitchen, compulsively cleaning counters that were already spotless. Molly sat on the table, folding a pile of tiny shirts and socks. I was relieved that some unknown rule of brownie etiquette hadn’t forced her to leave after gifting me with my new purse.

  “I can’t sit here and wait until he’s ready for the main course,” I said. “And I can’t let anybody else die in my place.”

  Maurice wasn’t happy. For that matter, I could tell by her silence that Molly wasn’t very happy either.

  “He can’t hurt me in my dreams. I have to do this. Hell, there’s an excellent chance I won’t be able to do it. But I have to try.”

  The two of them exchanged a look I didn’t like. Maurice opened his mouth to object.

  I was saved by “The Wedding March” chiming on my phone.

  Thanks to my new purse, I reached right in and pulled it out. No searching, digging or swearing necessary.

  I didn’t recognize the number, but it didn’t show that it was a forwarded call. I hoped like hell it wasn’t more bad news. I’d pretty much reached my limit. I flipped it open.

  “This is Zoey.”

  “Zoey. Hi. This is Riley.”

  I swallowed. It was the last voice I’d expected to hear.

  “EMT guy?”

  He laughed. The sound was warm and made my toes curl. “Yeah, the EMT guy. Though ‘paramedic guy’ is preferable. Nick gave me your number.”

  “Nick?” I sounded like an idiot. Again.

  “The officer you spoke to the other day.”

  I nodded my head, knowing full well as I did it that he couldn’t see me.

  “Listen,” he said. “The universe keeps throwing us together. I was thinking maybe we could get a jump on it and do it ourselves next time.”

  “Uh huh.” Sheer intellectual genius. Keep it up.

  “Do you like sushi?”

  “Sushi?”

  “There’s this place I really like. I’d love to take you there. How about Saturday night?”

  “Sure. Saturday.”

  “I can come pick you up or we can meet there.”

  My brain snapped out of its fog. There was no way he was coming out here to get me. If he got past the fairies and the skunk-ape, Maurice was sure to give him the big brother treatment. “I’ll meet you. It’s kind of a drive to my place.”

  He gave me directions to the restaurant and we agreed to meet at seven-thirty. By the time I hung up, I was grinning like an idiot, and Maurice and Molly were staring at me.

  “What?” I felt guilty for some reason.

  “Nothing,” Maurice said. “You’re just acting goofy is all.”

  “I have a date. On Friday. With the hot EMT. No. The hot paramedic!” I did a little dance around the kitchen table. I stopped in mid-step, stricken. “Oh my God.”

  “What?”

  “I hate sushi.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Despite my insistence that I knew what I was doing and that I wouldn’t be able to get hurt, I was sure of neither of these things. Being occasionally aware that you’re asleep by no stretch grants the ability to chase after a bad guy in your dreams. This posed another question: Did demons dream? Did it matt
er?

  I took a long, hot bath and settled into bed. I knew once I was asleep Maurice would be hovering around me, watching. Rather than make me nervous, this gave me a measure of calm. In theory, even if I could get hurt in my dreams, the danger would be gone the minute I woke up. Maurice wouldn’t let Sebastian pull a Freddy Krueger on me.

  I shuddered. Thinking about Freddy Krueger right before going to sleep is never a good idea. It’s especially bad when you’re going into dreamland to hunt down your enemy.

  I lay in the dark trying to stay focused enough to retain control of my thoughts, yet relaxed enough to drift off to sleep. Not an easy trick.

  I thought about Riley’s eyes and the way his laugh gave me goose bumps. I could eat sushi for him. What’s a little raw fish and seaweed? No, focus. Think about the rope that connects you to Sebastian so you can follow it. Come on, Zoey. Build a mousetrap now, romance and googly eyes later.

  I knew I was getting drowsy. My thoughts were wandering loose. I tried to follow them and rein them in, but it was like herding cats.

  I remembered the game Mousetrap from my childhood. Daddy and I used to play it together. All those pieces were so complicated. We didn’t always get the mouse. Maybe if we’d used Gruyère. Maybe the mouse was snooty. I tried to pluck the mouse out of a tiny jail cell, but the tweezers I was using brushed the bars and set off an alarm. I jumped and woke up.

  Way to concentrate, Zoey. Pull your head out and try again.

  I concentrated on the line Andrew had said that, in theory, tethered me to the incubus. In the dark behind my eyelids, I imagined a thread tied around my ankle and winding out the window. I followed it, pulling the length through my hands. I climbed out the window into my garden. Grass brushed against my legs. When did my lawn get so long?

  The moon was overhead, spinning like a windmill and singing a wordless tune. The thread in my hands bit my fingers and I dropped it.

  I bent to pick it up and found a wet, flopping fish at my feet. It went still and stared up at me with one glassy eye.

  “The problem is,” the fish said, “you have to have movie-time attitude.”