by AE Jones
He shrugged slightly as he walked up and down the alley, peering from side to side. “You never know when you might spot something in daylight that you missed earlier. I always come back to the scene of the crime to go over the events again. Don’t I, Sam?”
“Sam?” I grumbled. “Very funny, are you going to start calling me other guys’ names now?”
“No, he was talking to me.”
I jumped, actually did a little jig with my feet in the air, and jerked around to face the pile of rags that had now started to move. A man slowly emerged, sat up, and rubbed his face. He was ancient and wiry, but his eyes still held a spark.
Dalton walked over to him and squatted down. “How you doing, Sam?”
“Good, Joe.”
“You know why I’m here?”
“Yeah. There was a ruckus last night in the Erie.”
“As usual, you’re on the ball.”
He smiled and sat up straighter. “You know you can count on me.”
“So what did you see?”
He frowned for a minute. “At first I thought I was having the DTs. But I haven’t been drinking as much lately. I was behind the dumpster settling in for the night when the door slammed open and this thing came out.”
“What did it look like?”
He scratched his elbow before responding. “Like a cross between the devil and Barney the dinosaur.”
I chuckled to myself. The old goat had a sense of humor.
“Then what?” Dalton continued.
“A man came chasing after it.”
“Did he catch him?”
Sam shook his head. “No, the purple thing disappeared into thin air.”
“Can you describe the man?”
“Nah, he had dark brown hair and was medium-sized. I didn’t see his face.”
“What did he do?”
“He stood there for a couple of seconds mumbling to himself and then beamed up to the mother ship.”
Okay, Sam was actually eighty-five percent right. I gave him props for knowing that much.
“Was either of them carrying anything?” I interjected.
“The second guy was carrying a big-ass sword.”
“What else did you see?” Dalton prompted.
He pointed to me. “Later, I saw her and the vampire.”
I gaped at him in surprise, and he scoffed at me and continued, “I know about the beasties you hide. I see lots of things in this town. Nobody pays me any attention.”
I didn’t bother to deny it. What was the point? “Is there anything else you can tell us?”
“The bartender came out and headed for home.” He frowned. “But I think someone was following him.”
“Did you see who it was?” I persisted.
“No, but I heard footsteps.”
Dalton stood up and reached into his pocket, pulling out some bills and pushing them into Sam’s hand. “Thanks for the info, Sam.”
“Sorry I don’t know more. You can check with Peter one alley over. He might have seen something. But have the girl approach him first, Joe. He don’t like cops much.”
We walked down the alley and slowly turned the corner. At first glance I didn’t see anyone. Dalton stepped slightly in front of me.
“I’ll lead.”
“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Besides, didn’t Sam say Peter didn’t like cops?”
“We have no idea how unstable this guy is.”
Before I could argue, there was rustling from one of the doorways. Dalton tensed, laid his hand on his holster, and called out, “Peter?”
A small man darted out the door.
“Hey, hold up for a second.” When the man ran, Dalton took off after him. “Stop! Police!”
I started to run, too, and was catching up with them when the telltale whiff of sulfur hit my nose. “Dalton, wait!” But he plowed ahead. The demon spun around and screeched. Dalton jerked to a stop, and before he could pull his gun I pushed him out of the way.
The demon opened his mouth and spewed slime at me, and I don’t mean the cute green stuff you see on Nickelodeon. It was sticky, with chunks of who-knows-what in it, and God, did it stink—a combination of rotten eggs and day-old fish. I gasped for air and gagged. Luckily he missed my face, but my shirt and pants were covered. And then he took off again.
Dalton rushed toward me, but I put up my hands to stop him. There was no point in both of us wearing this gunk. I just had to remember to keep breathing through my mouth.
“Don’t touch me. I’m fine.”
He cringed. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, next time I tell you to stop, listen. You spooked him.”
“I spooked him? What the hell was that?”
“A Baltran demon.”
“How many demon types are there?”
“A lot. I’ll have Misha give you a Demon 101 course when we get back to the office. In the meantime, take off your shirt.”
His mouth fell open.
“If you think I’m getting in my car with these clothes on, you’re crazy. I’m not shy, so I’ll strip and drive naked if I have to.”
When he pulled off his shirt, I almost choked on my tongue. His body was amazing. Just enough muscles, and a light dusting of hair on his chest which ran down his belly toward his… Holy crap, I needed to get a grip. We were in an alley and I was covered with slime.
“Can you hold onto it until I get my clothes off?”
Nodding, he faced away from me. I pulled my car keys and phone from my pocket, set them on the ground, then stripped off my clothes and chucked them into the dumpster. The bra was a goner too, so off it came. Undies were mercifully un-slimed, so those remained.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
He dangled the shirt over his shoulder and I snatched it and pulled it on. Luckily it hit me mid-thigh, so I didn’t look too skanky.
“You decent?”
“Never, but you can turn around now.”
He faced me and his eyes danced. He had the nerve to smirk. “You look good in my shirt.”
I swallowed the giggle threatening to erupt. Now who was acting like a tweener?
I cleared my throat. “Let’s get going. I need to go home and change clothes before we find our witness.”
Walking back to my car, we had the pleasure of passing a road crew patching the street. Even if I had been dressed appropriately, the catcalls would have been guaranteed. Since Dalton was bare-chested and I was wearing his shirt, there was no way they would keep their testosterone-laden mouths shut. It really wouldn’t have bothered me so much if they’d at least been creative. I mean, how many men end up attracting women with “Oooo, baby,” or “Can I have some of that?” When I spun around to issue my own scathing response, I was surprised to find the men regarding me sheepishly.
I couldn’t figure out why the animals had done a one-eighty, until I turned to Dalton, who was glaring at the crew. His face was menacing, to say the least. It was a total cop look, and I found it both endearing and irritating. It was sweet he was trying to protect me, but, damn it, I could take care of myself. I shook my head to stop the ridiculous train of thought and stomped to my car, throwing open the door a little too aggressively.
As soon as I started to get in, Dalton grabbed my arm. “Stop.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Your seats are leather and it’s probably over a hundred degrees in there.” He pointed to my bare legs.
“Thanks for the save.”
I opened my back door and located a newspaper. Spreading it on the front seat, I climbed in, knowing I would have newsprint on my ass by the time I got home. Better that than blisters.
“I live in Little Italy, so it’ll take a while to get to my place.”
He nodded. “I love going there. It reminds me of my grandmother. She used to make pasta from scratch.”
“With the last name Dalton?”
“My maternal grandmother raised me. She was Italian. Came over on the boat.”
<
br /> “Misha loves Italian food. He goes there a lot for dinner.”
“Can he do what the demon in the alley did?”
“Slime you? No, the one in the alley was a lower-level demon. It’s one of his protective mechanisms. Misha doesn’t need to slime anyone to get his point across.”
“I thought you said demons don’t show their demon side to normals. So what was the deal with the slime?”
“He had to have been plenty scared to do that. We weren’t going to hurt him, so I’m not sure why he reacted that way.”
“Maybe it isn’t us he’s scared of. Maybe he saw something last night and doesn’t want to get involved.”
“I don’t blame him. This is getting freakier by the second.”
We drove in silence for the next few minutes. I took a deep breath and got a whiff of something earthy and yummy. It was coming from Dalton’s shirt and it made my toes curl a little bit. I glanced over at him and he smiled. Crap, I should have kept my slimy clothes on.
Somehow I was lucky enough to find a parking spot only a block away, but I was torn about what to do with Dalton. Part of me wanted to leave him in my car to swelter and another part wanted to bring him upstairs and jump him. The third rational, but incredibly boring, part of me won out, and I invited him up to wait in my apartment while I changed.
I unlocked the door and walked inside. Dropping my keys and phone on the table in the hallway, I faced Dalton.
He gave the living room a once-over. “You have a nice place.”
“Thanks.” I followed his gaze into the room. My couch was second-hand, but in great shape, as were the coffee table and comfy chair and ottoman I had over by the window. The only heirloom I had, if you could call it that, was my mother’s old trunk, which sat along the wall. I wasn’t much into clutter, except for piles of books stacked around the room.
“If you’re hungry, there should be some bread and lunch meat in the fridge. Help yourself while I clean up.”
“Want me to make a sandwich for you?”
Lord, how could I shake this guy if he was going to be Mr. Considerate? “I can’t think about food until I’ve had a shower. I’ll be out in a few.”
I gathered up some clean clothes and hurried to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I pulled off Dalton’s shirt, taking one more whiff of his scent before throwing it in the laundry basket.
Once under the hot water, I scrubbed my hair and body twice before shutting it off and toweling dry.
It had been a long time since I had a man in my apartment, and now a man was in the next room shirtless and I was standing here naked. Shaking my head to clear the naughty thoughts, I finished drying off and got dressed.
All fresh and clean now, I sighed and went to the hall closet to get the man’s button-down shirt I happened to have handy, and handed it to Joe. “This should do for the time being. I’ll get your shirt back to you in a couple of days.”
“No problem.”
The shirt turned out to be too big for him, but it was better than having him sit around half naked in my kitchen. Or at least it’s what I kept telling myself.
“Did you get something to eat?”
“Ah, your bread was a bit old.”
I’m sure that was his nice way of saying it was moldy. “I haven’t been to the store lately. I promised Booger this morning I would get him some food.”
“Is he the guy who owns this shirt?”
I laughed. “No, Booger’s my cat.”
“Is he gray-striped?”
“Yes.”
“He came through the window a couple of minutes ago and hissed at me before cramming himself under the couch. I don’t think I made a friend.”
“Booger doesn’t like many people, especially men.”
“Maybe he’s jealous?”
“The only thing he worries about is having his food supply cut off.”
“Where did you get him?”
“He showed up on my fire escape a couple of months ago and stared at me through the window until I let him in. He’s been squatting here ever since. The only stipulation of our agreement is he has to be able to get in and out of the apartment during the day.”
“What are you going to do in the winter?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Let’s get going. If you like pizza, we can get a slice downstairs and then go find our witness.”
“While you were in the shower, I called Misha to find out if the bartender was working today. He’s going to get back to us.”
For some reason, his take-charge attitude grated on my nerves. “How proactive of you.”
He frowned. “I’m a cop, Kyle. I have worked a case or two before.”
“Sorry. Let’s get some food.”
I had planned to drive and eat, but Dalton insisted we could spend five minutes finishing our food before putting the car in gear.
I clicked on my sync. “Call Misha.” Man, did I love technology. The car placed the call, and he picked up on the first ring.
“Yo.”
“Did you find out if our witness is working today?”
“He was supposed to, but he hasn’t shown up yet. His name is Byron Matthews and I’m sending his address to your GPS as we speak.”
“Thanks, you’re the man.”
“True dat.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mish, stop trying to talk street, it doesn’t work with your accent.”
“Sorry, I just watched an episode of Cops in celebration of our newest team member. Call me with an update.”
I glanced over at Dalton who tilted his head to the side. He hesitated before speaking as if choosing his next words carefully.
“Um, can I ask what the deal is with him?”
“What do you mean?”
“He seems a bit…”
“Strange? You aren’t a demonist, are you?”
“What’s that?”
“Similar to a racist.” I glared at him. “Do you have a problem with him being a demon?”
“No, as long as he doesn’t do anything illegal.”
“Yeah, well, Misha is a TV junkie. Don’t be surprised if he starts calling you by a nickname.”
“Too late. He called me Joe Friday earlier.”
I chuckled. “It doesn’t take him long to make the leap.”
The GPS interrupted our discussion. “Turn left at the next light.”
I glanced at the address on the screen and then shut off the GPS. I knew where we were going. Ohio City was an eclectic neighborhood. Years ago it had fallen into disrepair and was now in the process of being rehabilitated. Byron lived in an area that still needed work.
It didn’t take long to find his place. His apartment was in the basement of a large sandstone house that had been converted into multiple units years ago. We walked down the steps and knocked on the door.
I called out. “Byron? Are you there?”
No one answered. I bent down to pull back his door mat. It amazed me how many people still left their extra key under the mat. As I reached for it, I noticed a rust-colored stain on the door frame.
“It’s blood,” Dalton said calmly. He eased his gun out of its holster.
“I know what it is.” I stood up and tried the knob. The door was unlocked.
Dalton stepped in front of me. “We don’t have a warrant.”
I glared at him. “Really. Do you think whatever might be in there is something we want the police department or the coroner to see?”
Dalton did some glaring of his own. “Stay out here until I make sure it’s clear.”
He walked slowly down the hall with his weapon raised while I stood by the door. He moved out of sight and I waited like an anxious schoolgirl. Since when did I let anyone tell me what to do? I took a step into the apartment just before a loud thunk startled me.
“Dalton?” I whispered.
Nothing.
“Where are you?” I hissed. I froze and waited for a response. What the hell was he doing?
After a few more seconds, I inched farther down the hallway. My heart was thudding so loudly I was afraid I’d give myself away. Steps echoed from the back of the apartment, and I was sneaking back there when movement caught my eye.
A door in the hallway opened and something barged through it. Before I could see who or what it was, a sharp pain struck my temple. Vision blurring, I staggered backward and cried out. My attacker ran out of the apartment.
I blinked hard, trying through the haze to identify who it was. Behind me, Dalton yelled, and then I was on my knees with him beside me. I gazed up into his iridescent turquoise eyes right before I passed out.
Chapter 4
Voices interrupted my sleep and I woke up slowly. Where the hell was I? I was in bed. No, I squeezed my eyes tight and opened them again, I was on a gurney in the ER. There was a curtain drawn around my bed and I was alone.
For a moment I flashed back to my twelfth birthday, spent sitting in the ER with a broken arm waiting for my mom to show up. The longer I had waited, the more pitying the stares from the nurses. How was I supposed to know where she was? After a while, Mom breezed into the hospital with her latest boyfriend, Chuck…or maybe it was Dan…in tow and scooped me up five minutes before social services was scheduled to arrive. All I had needed was one lousy traffic light to catch her and I would have been free.
My throbbing scalp put an end to my reminiscing. I gingerly reached up to touch it. Yowza, did it hurt. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to keep from throwing up. Low voices rumbled through the curtain—first came Misha’s thick accent followed by Dalton’s response.
I cleared my throat. “Guys?”
The curtain pulled back and they both crowded in next to the bed.
Misha was grinning like an idiot. “You okay, little one?”
“Yeah, I’ll live.”
Dalton attempted to smile but failed miserably. “You’ll be fine, Kyle. The doctor should be back in a few minutes.”
I tried to nod but thought better of it when my head pounded after I barely twitched. “What happened?”
Dalton spoke up. “You got hit on the head by our perp. I came running when I heard the struggle, but I didn’t catch him.”
“Byron?”
Dalton shook his head. “I found him dead in the bedroom.”
