Dancing With Demons

by Trudi Jaye

  His device is a metal contraption with a long, thin nozzle at one end and a bulky inward section in the middle. It’s definitely a work in progress, nowhere near the final product he’s expecting. If an inanimate object could be said to give off a vibe, my device—my own invention—is giving me a bad, bad feeling. If what Freddy said yesterday is true, that demon energy isn’t stable, then even if my device works, it’s not going to achieve the lofty goals we had for it.

  I guess I’m back in that horror movie, and my invention has been possessed by the ghost of some angry long-dead psycho who was wronged. Probably by my ancestors.

  “Blade, do ghosts exist?” I ask suddenly. My hands are clammy on the broom.

  He looks up from where he’s tidying a shelf. “Not really. Demons would be about as close to ghosts as we get.”

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Demons are the remains of supernaturals who have died but are refusing to move on. They hang about in this life, trying to gather energy to stay here. If they can’t get enough energy, they fade away, and if they do get the energy they seek, they become bigger and more powerful.”

  “Do they get energy from possessing people?”

  “Humans, not really. Supernaturals, definitely.”

  My little demon bounces around in my stomach, and I put one hand over it. I don’t feel like it’s gathering power just from being inside me, but you never know. My device, however, is definitely dripping with malevolence, like the angry ghost is about to start trying to take over the city—maybe using me as its reluctant sidekick. I’m pretty sure it’s just my overactive imagination, but it feels real. A device like that in the wrong hands would be dangerous, and Connor is pretty much the definition of the wrong hands.

  I let out a wonky breath of air. I can’t do it.

  I can’t give anything to Connor. Not the device, not more information on demons. Nothing. Especially not after everything we’ve learned over the last couple of days about demons. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve known it for a while. I knew it after our date. Connor just isn’t stable.

  Something inside me shrivels up into a tight knot. As soon as Connor realizes I’m not giving him the device, my life here is over. He’s the kind of vindictive asshole who’ll make good on his threat to hand me over to the authorities. If I drag my heels too much, I’ll end up back at Ravenwood. My demon bounces in my stomach in reply, sending a fresh wave of nausea through me. I’m a little shocked at how much I’m resisting this realization.

  I don’t want to leave my job with access to the right research equipment, or my cozy apartment that’s set up just the way I like it. I glance over at Blade. I definitely don’t want to leave my new job with an… interesting… coworker who might just help me figure out what I’ve been searching for all these years.

  All my answers, all my information. It’ll all be gone if I don’t give Connor the device. Even though I’ve been telling myself that I have to leave, in this moment I realize I’ve been secretly hoping something would come along to change my situation. That Blade would come to the rescue. Or maybe Damien. I’d even take something from the Director. But none of them can help me. The SIG doesn’t get involved.

  It’s up to me.

  No way will I go back to Ravenwood. They’ll lock me up in Ward D, fill me with experimental drugs, and throw away the key. I’ll turn into a shell of a person, just like the people I had to leave behind five years ago.

  “What about this? Where should I put it?” asks Blade from one corner of the junk room. He’s holding a piece of metal in front of him, looking at me questioningly, and I blink, struggling to focus on his question. Struggling to hide the enormous revelation I’ve just had.

  The sound of heavy footsteps across the linoleum floor of the main lab makes me turn toward the door instead of answering him. It must be the Professor coming in to work after all.

  Seconds later, Connor appears at the doorway: blond-haired, blue-eyed perfection personified. His magic swirls around him, reaching out in my direction. A low-pitched growl comes from behind me. The magic pauses, as if unsure.

  “Hazel. So good of you to meet me here,” says Connor smoothly, ignoring Blade completely.

  I glance at the clock on the wall. He’s about two hours earlier than he said he would be. I doubt it’s accidental.

  “Connor, you’re early,” I say awkwardly. “We haven’t got everything organized yet.”

  Connor looks around. “I can see that. But you did promise me that you had one part of the research already completed, and I was eager to see it.”

  I glance at Blade, who’s glowering like he’s a storm cloud about to start pounding something—or someone—with rain, and then back at Connor. “We don’t have a demon,” I say. “I can’t show you anything.”

  “Then I would like to see the device you’ve created to conduct the demon energy. The one you promised me you had.”

  My mouth is suddenly tongue tied; I don’t know what to say. “I... uh...”

  “She’s discovered an anomaly in the design. She’s still working on it,” says Blade.

  I almost want to slap my hand against my head. Why didn’t I think to say that?

  “You’re still following her around?” says Connor. His voice seems pleasant on the surface, but I can hear a hundred little nuances that let me know he’s about as pleased as a cat that’s stepped on a hedgehog. My head is pounding too hard; I can’t think of a way to get him out of here before I say something that pisses him off.

  Or Blade does.

  “We haven’t been introduced properly. My name is Blade.” Blade steps forward as he speaks. Connor’s magic retreats under the advance. The tension in the room rises about ten notches.

  Connor glances at me, his eyes hard. “Why is he here?” He’s referring to the deal we made, but I just promised not to tell Blade anything about it, not that I wouldn’t have him around when I was working on the device.

  “I’m just helping out.” Blade shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I can see the muscles on his neck bunching like he’s holding himself under tight control.

  “It’s interesting timing that I’m meeting you just after the lab’s new equipment was stolen,” says Connor softly.

  “Are you suggesting there’s a connection?” Blade’s voice is a barely controlled growl. His whole body is poised like he’s about to attack. His eyes flash, uncontrolled wildness in their depths. He’s so close to the edge, and I honestly don’t understand why. I know he dislikes Connor, but he’s usually better at hiding his emotions than this. Maybe he’s actually really hungover and is just better at hiding it than I am?

  “Should I be?” Connor’s tone is silky, almost the opposite of Blade’s raw power. But it’s a slimy kind of silk, one that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, just from being around it.

  Connor is starting to seem more and more scary. It’s almost laughable to remember how I felt the first time I saw him.

  But that doesn’t explain the barely suppressed violence that Blade is giving off right now. He’s glaring at Connor like he’s planning to rip his head off. Maybe with just his jaguar teeth. Blade growls. Connor sneers.

  Wishing my head didn’t hurt so much, I huff out an annoyed breath and step between them, holding out my hands placatingly. “Don’t be stupid, both of you. Connor, Blade didn’t steal anything from us. It wouldn’t make any sense. And, Blade, I’m sure Connor is just upset about the loss of the machines. They were expensive. It’s very embarrassing for the lab.” I glare at Blade, trying to tell him to behave, without having to say the words.

  Both men glare at me, and man-chest-beating testosterone fills the air. The tension is so thick, I could cut it with a dull ax. It feels like I’m about to be in the middle of a knockdown fight to the death.

  I clamp down hard on the urge to run and hold my ground.

  26

  Blade takes a deep breath, like he’s mentally counting to ten.

  “I’m sorry,
Hazel. You’re right.” The fire in his eyes has lowered. He turns to Connor. “I understand that you’re upset by the loss of the machines,” he says blandly to Connor. He steps back, and his shoulders relax. It’s not quite an apology, but it’s close.

  “And I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything,” murmurs Connor, equally bland.

  Despite their words, both of them look equally unrepentant.

  Connor turns to me. “How will you proceed with the research without the microscopes and analyzers I provided?” he asks, glancing around the room like he’s assessing and pricing up every item in it. It’s like he’s turned off a faucet somewhere inside himself and is now all business.

  I’ll take anything over the open hostility of a moment ago. “We don’t need more machines,” I say quickly. “I can create new ones from what’s left of the ones that are here. They didn’t take everything. Some of it was just broken.” Although, just because I can, doesn’t mean I will.

  Connor raises his eyebrows at me. “You can make new machines?”

  “Yes. And they’ll be specific to what we’re doing here. They’ll be better.” I glance behind me at the microscope. “I can even make something that will help us see demons better,” I say rashly, the words skipping over themselves to get out of my mouth.

  Connor’s whole body goes still. His focus is riveted on me. I immediately wish I’d kept my mouth shut. I’m not planning on giving him the current device, why am I promising him another one?

  It’s only then that I notice his magic swirling close to me. He’s influencing my mind again. I take a step closer to Blade, trying to push away the magic without being obvious about it.

  Connor is too excited by my words to pay any attention to my movements. “We’ll be able to see the demons? Even non-supers?”

  “Yes,” I whisper. I feel a blotchy flush creeping up my face. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, he looks like he’s already planning what he’s going to do with my promised devices.

  “And you’ll make better machines than the manufacturer using the broken remains?” he adds.

  I nod slowly, trying to think how to get out of this. “They’re all made on a factory production line. Half of it is automated, done by machines. I can create something custom made. But it’ll take me a little bit of time. I can’t do everything at once.”

  “How long will it take you to create the original device you promised me?”

  “Give me a couple of weeks,” I say, trying to buy myself more time to make my getaway. “I—”

  The sound of more footsteps echoing across the lab makes me stop, and we all look to the doorway as a tall, older man with a goatee appears. He’s wearing an expensive suit and smiles at us like he knows who we are.

  I have no idea who he is.

  “Uh… hello,” I say, stepping forward, wiping my hands on my jeans. Connor moves to one side as I greet the newcomer. “May I help you?”

  “We spoke on the phone. I’m Director Holden of the SIG.” His voice is strong, dignified, if a little clipped. He gives off the impression of being dependable and solid—except for some reason, every single instinct inside my head is telling me to run.

  I glance at Blade, who gives me a look I don’t understand, then back at the Director. I reach out one hand and shake his, trying not to let my hand tremble. “I’m Hazel. Nice to meet you.” Not.

  His sharp eyes take everything in, including my new device. I can almost see him taking inventory, just like Connor did moments ago, and I have to resist the urge to stand in front of my machines, just to protect them from his view. This guy strikes me as another person who shouldn’t get his hands on my inventions.

  “Have you met Blade?” I say, trying to direct his attention away. All I really want to do is hide in the closet.

  “No, I haven’t had the pleasure,” he says. He leans over and shakes Blade’s hand. Damien must be up to his eyeballs in something serious if this guy is sniffing around. A guy like him wouldn’t stir out of the ivory tower for any old thing. At least it means that maybe the Director won’t be looking too closely at me and my background. He’s too focused on whatever the hell Damien got himself into.

  I clear my throat. “And this is Connor McKenzie, of McKenzie industries.”

  Connor reaches out and shakes the Director’s hand, a calculating expression on his face. What use could the Director of the SIG be to Connor? Did he already know of him? How small is the supernatural community?

  “Can I get you some coffee?” I ask Director Holden, desperate to get him away from Connor. Who knows what terrible things Connor is cooking up in that head of his. “Perhaps we could go to the cafe on campus?”

  “No, no. I’m fine. I just wanted to drop by and see the famous lab that Damien has been raving about.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck rise up. Damien never came to the lab—at least not that I was aware of.

  “Uh, thanks.” It’s creepy either way I think about it; in one version Damien came by when I wasn’t here to check it out, or in the other, the Director is lying about hearing about it from Damien. I glance at Blade. Perhaps he mentioned it to Damien?

  I don’t know the answer. I don’t know how I got myself into this situation. My life, previously spent well under the radar, is now suddenly in full view of two very powerful men. I prefer operating in the background, unnoticed by anyone for very good reasons. The wrong move from me in front of either of them could mean my downfall.

  I rub my forehead. My headache is digging in behind my eyes.

  “Damien mentioned you before he… disappeared,” the Director is saying.

  “Uh… great,” I say. Blade moves to stand almost directly behind me. His warmth gives me strength, and I take a deep breath, trying to force myself to think again.

  The Director glances at Connor. “I see that now is not the best time to have popped in to see you. Perhaps I can give you a call and we can arrange another time?”

  “That would be great. Thanks.”

  The Director pulls a small silver case out from his jacket pocket. He opens it to reveal flashy silver and white business cards. He hands each of us a card and shakes everyone’s hand a second time. Connor tucks his card away in his pocket, his expression pleased. I have to stomp on the urge to grab that card out of Connor’s greasy hands.

  The Director bows at us, moving back into the shadows of the doorway. It’s hard not to wonder what his supernatural abilities might be. If he has any. Didn’t Blade or Damien say SIG agents tended to be only half or quarter supers? I follow the Director through to the lab. He glances back just as he’s pushing open the lab door. He nods again and is gone.

  Back in the junk room, Connor and Blade are in the middle of another staring competition. The hairs on my arms are raised, and I don’t know if it’s a reaction to the Director, or if it’s all the testosterone in the room.

  Connor breaks it off and turns to me. It’s not a relief. “You’ve got four days. Show me your new machine, or I’m pulling the pin on the research grant.”

  “That’s not fair,” I say. “I can’t—” I’m forgetting that it doesn’t matter, either way. I’m not going to be here.

  “I would say allowing all those expensive machines to be destroyed might be considered unfair. Having no insurance is probably something I would consider unfair. Or maybe just plain stupid.”

  I swallow and nod. He’s got a point. “Okay. Yes. Sure. I can do that.” I’m nowhere near able to do that, but I have a feeling Connor isn’t going to respond well to half-hearted promises.

  “I’m giving you this chance, Hazel, because of what’s between us. But it’s the only chance you’re getting. You need to deliver a viable machine to me by Wednesday, or I’m done. It’s over.”

  Because of what’s between us? It’s like he thinks we’re in a relationship. I swallow hard, wishing I knew how to deal with Connor. “And after that? Will you see the rest of the research through? Give us the six months we were supposed to h
ave?”

  “If you prove to me that your machine works as you say it will.” He glares at Blade. “I’ll be back in four days’ time. I want to see a working device by then.” He nods curtly to me and then turns and strides out the door.

  There’s silence for a few minutes as I watch the door and wait for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs to recede.

  Then I let out a huge breath. “I’m really starting to dislike him.” I take off my glasses and rub my eyes. I’m definitely not giving Connor the device he wants. I’m not giving him anything. But if I don’t give him the machine, I have to get the hell out of here.

  And for once in my life, I really don’t want to leave.

  “I thought you went on a date with him, that he was sweet on you?” says Blade from behind me.

  “Not that sweet, apparently,” I say, making a face as I turn. I still haven’t told him exactly what happened that night.

  Blade clears his throat. “How are you going to make what he wants in that timeframe? And why would you want to?”

  “I had to say something to make him go away. I’m not giving him anything.”

  Instead, I have to start planning my escape. I believe Connor when he says he’ll tell the cops where I am, and I can’t risk that. I don’t have much time. I watch Blade, studying his face like it’s the last time I’m going to see him.

  “We have other things we’re supposed to do as well,” Blade warns. “We have demons to catch.”

  “I know, I know.” Of all the things I’m going to miss when I disappear again, it’s learning about demons from an expert. I’ve never had access to so much knowledge. It’s going to be hard to just up and leave again, despite how many times I’ve done it before.

  I should be used to leaving. I’ve had to do it so many times in the past. I’ve had to be so careful to live under the radar. The doctor at Ravenwood didn’t care that I was innocent. She didn’t care that most of the people there didn’t deserve to be.