Shadow Demon

by Judith Post

  A growl rumbled in Andre’s throat. His nails began to grow. His eyes turned yellow. “He ate everything but her face. He wanted us to know how much she suffered.”

  Hecate took his hand to calm him. “Not the demon’s idea. Nen’s. He’s taunting us.”

  Reece couldn’t shift her gaze from the girl’s face. Young, probably not twenty. An olive complexion with a mane of rich, black hair. Blue eyes. An oval face. Lovely. Or she would have been. Before.

  Hecate grew unnaturally calm. She crossed the front room, stepped over the girl’s clothes, and entered the bedroom. The rest of them followed.

  “Nen was lying in bed, waiting for her,” Hecate said. “See the indentation of the pillow where his head rested?” She pointed toward the closet where round, burn marks formed lines in the carpet. “The demon’s cage. The girl couldn’t see it until she stepped through the door. Then Nen released him.”

  Reece understood now how people could say their skin crawled. Hers tensed with revulsion. Her insides didn’t fare much better.

  Damian asked, “Why didn’t the demon attack Nen? If he was free, and Nen was right there, why not go for his tormentor?”

  “He was too weak. Nen’s only feeding him enough to keep him healthy. This time, instead of letting him hunt, Nen ordered in food for him.” She walked to the far side of the bed and froze.

  Andre took one look at her face and hurried to her side. “What is it?”

  A fragile, blue flower lay on the sheet. “Banafrit grew those in her lotus pool. Nen picked one for me when he told me to wait for him, to save myself until he was a full fledged warlock.”

  Andre’s lips curled back in a snarl. “He told you to wait for him?”

  “It’s Nen’s way. He’s used to getting what he wants.”

  Damian scowled at the offending flower.

  “He left a lotus on my doorstep the last time he found me.” Hecate’s voice was flat, emotionless. “I sent it back with a reversal spell. Then he summoned the fire demon.”

  “To punish you?” Damian asked.

  “To torment me. Nen knew I’d feel responsible for the suffering I’d brought on the village.”

  “And now?” Reece asked.

  “He decided to start with the suffering. If he kills enough people, he thinks I’ll be willing to go with him to spare whoever’s left.”

  The growl in Andre’s throat deepened. “You can’t trust him. Once he has you, he can do whatever he wants.”

  “I know that. He’d get tired of me and then use people I love to torment me by torturing them.”

  “Remember that.” Reece didn’t mean to sound so stern. She softened her tone. “This isn’t about you. It’s about Nen.”

  “You can’t sacrifice yourself to save others,” Damian added. “He’ll eventually hurt them anyway.”

  “You don’t have to lecture me. I understand Nen all too well.” Hecate grimaced and circled the bed to leave the room. “I’ll do everyone more good if I don’t give in to him.”

  Damian’s expression softened. “Our best place to start is the demon. Is there anything here that can help us catch him?”

  “No, we’ve learned all we can for now.” Hecate stalked to the front door.

  Reece and Damian joined her. Damian flipped open his cell phone to call Petersen. When he finished talking to him, he called Doogie. When that conversation ended, he snapped the phone shut and jammed it deep inside his jeans pocket. “Mr. Do Good By My Girls wants us to make sure Pete knows none of this was his fault.”

  “That’s all?” Reece asked. “Did he ask how she died? If he should contact her friends or family?”

  “Mostly he was worried that this wouldn’t affect his business.”

  Reece sighed. She slipped an arm through Damian’s and gave him a gentle hug. Mortals often disappointed him.

  Andre took a minute before he left the bedroom.

  “Did you notice something?” Damian asked.

  “No, I stayed to say a prayer for her. A Catholic thing. I wanted to show my respect.”

  Tears misted Reece’s eyes, and she blinked them away. Every once in a while, Andre could surprise her. The girl’s death bothered her as much as Nen had meant it to. She was glad Andre dignified it instead of just being horrified by it, like she was.

  It was a short wait before Pete and Hud showed up.

  “The techs are right behind us. We’d better make this quick,” Pete said. His face went grim when he glanced to the bedroom and saw the girl’s skeleton.

  “Anything new?” he asked.

  Hecate explained about the burn marks in the carpet.

  “A cage for the demon?” Pete glanced at Hud. His partner looked stunned.

  Hecate told them what she thought happened, how Nen had waited for the girl before unleashing the demon.

  The detectives shifted from one foot to the other while they listened. They both glanced back and forth from Hecate to the grisly skeleton.

  “Here.” Reece dug in her sweater pocket and handed them each a vial. “Holy water. The priest thinks this might help against a demon.”

  “Do we bless the thing?” Hud asked.

  Pete grinned at his friend’s stab at dark humor. Reece understood the need for it. They needed something to blow off steam.

  “You toss it on its skin…fog…whatever,” Andre said. “And hope for the best. No one’s sure it will work.”

  “If the demon’s that close, it’s better than nothing.” Pete stepped out of the way of a cop, one of his team.

  “You’d better get out of here,” the cop told Damian. He was younger than Pete and Hud, maybe in his late twenties, and looked Hispanic. His walk had a swagger. “Techs pulled into the parking lot and will be here soon.”

  Only Pete’s team knew Damian and the others. It was better that way.

  “Could you guys keep people back till I make it inside our car?” Damian asked.

  Pete gave a curt nod. “Will do. Jimmerson, do your thing.”

  “Jimmerson?” Reece felt a blush climb her neck and tinge her cheeks. How rude. When would her thoughts not pop out of her lips? Just because he looked Latino didn’t mean he had to have a name like Garcia.

  The young man smiled. “My mother’s from Columbia, my dad’s an American mutt.”

  Reece liked that term. The old melting pot was what made America great. “Sorry.”

  “Understandable.” His grin widened, a cocky kid.

  “If you two are done chatting….” Pete motioned to the door and soon Jimmerson and three more cops were stringing up yellow tape outside, creating a temporary barrier from prying eyes.

  Reece trailed Damian as he hurried down the stairs. On the drive home, she could hardly sit still. She felt as though she’d had too many pots of coffee—jumpy and wired and overloaded all at the same time. She fought back frustration and the fear of defeat. How could they stop Nen from hurting more people?

  Damian laid a hand on her thigh. “When we’re up against something this big, we can’t save everyone. We’re going to lose a few battles. It’s awful, but it’s realistic.”

  Reece sighed. How did he always read her so well? Thoughts of if’s had been running through her mind. If we’d done this…if we’d tried that. None of them worth much. “What do we do now? Wait for another attack?” That idea didn’t appeal to her at all.

  “Could you summon your own demon?” Andre asked. “Is one kind stronger than another? Can a fire demon beat a fog demon?”

  “Shadow demon,” Hecate said, correcting him. “It’s a bad idea. How would we call it? Whose blood should we use? And how about feeding it? Do you want that chore?”

  “Okay, okay!” Andre threw his hands in the air in surrender.

  Reece gasped. “Watch it! You’re driving!”

  “Sorry. It’s a French thing. We talk with our hands. I was thinking out loud, that’s all.” Andre glanced sideways at Hecate. “From now on, I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”

  �
��At least you have ideas. I don’t at the moment.”

  Andre turned onto Madison and went to the condo’s parking garage. They took the elevator to the thirteenth floor and trudged into the condo silently. A nervous laugh escaped Hecate when she saw an owl patiently waiting on Reece’s balcony. “Luna’s going old-school,” she said. “She knows we’re in trouble.”

  Reece hurried to open the French doors, and the owl flapped inside. It opened its beak to drop two chains, holding old-fashioned, blood-red pendants at Reece and Hecate's feet. Then it turned and flew away.

  Reece bent to touch one of the gems, and the bracelet tingled. Her moonstone glowed. She clamped her fingers to the opaque circle and understood. A conduit opened. She could feel it.

  “Our pendants are links, permanent connections between us and my great-grandmother.”

  With shaking fingers, Hecate scooped up her chain. Eyes gleaming, she smiled—the first smile Reece had seen from her for a long time. “Luna can help us now. We’ll work as a trio, three witches united.”

  Energy pulsed through Reece, unblocked. It connected her to Hecate…and to her great-grandmother. Their battle seemed less doomed to defeat. There was hope—at last.

  Chapter 9

  While Reece and Hecate piled ice cream into bowls and drizzled them with hot fudge to celebrate, Damian stewed. Finally, Reece couldn’t stand it any more. “What is it? You have that look.”

  “I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

  “You already have.” Who could miss a hulking gargoyle? “You’re making me wonder what we missed. You’ve thought of something, haven’t you? Something about the pendants?”

  “I’m thinking that if Nen could block Luna’s messages, he can tell Luna’s found a way to bypass his spell, that she’s found a way to communicate with you.”

  Reece turned to Hecate. “Can Nen do that?”

  “Probably.”

  No wonder Damian was worried. “Will it make him mad? Will he come for us sooner, before she can help us?”

  Hecate shrugged. “Nen doesn’t like to be rushed. He has a game plan in mind. He won’t change it. Besides, he knows it will take Luna a while to realize what’s going on. We just made the connection.”

  “So what do we do now?” Andre asked.

  “We wait for her to get back to us.”

  Andre cocked an eyebrow. “You, the woman with no patience, is all right with waiting?”

  Damian raised an eyebrow, too. “It must be a witch thing. It’s not Reece’s strong point either.”

  Hecate ignored them and went to the cupboards. “I need more chocolate.” She scanned shelves full of canned vegetables, herbs, and oils before he sagged with disappointment. “You only buy the essentials, don’t you?”

  Reece stalked to the refrigerator and reached into its farthest recesses. She moved aside jars of jams and mustards to pull out her hidden stash of chocolate chips and baking squares. “This is all I have.”

  Damian shook his head. “You hide them?”

  “The kids,” Reece said. “Joseph and Jenny will eat a whole bag when they spend the night and watch cartoons on Saturday morning.” Mentioning her little brother and sister made a knot twist in her stomach. They usually spent a few days at her place over spring vacation. They hit the zoo, took a day trip together, whatever struck their fancy.

  "You miss them. I understand." Andre was about to elaborate when his cell rang. He frowned at the caller I.D. “Dad. There must be a problem at one of the restaurants.” He listened briefly, then said, “I can cover it. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “Is everything okay?” Hecate studied his face. He looked worried.

  “Half our staff called in sick today. Stomach flu. We don’t have enough servers.”

  “We can help.” Hecate glanced at Reece and Damian. “Can’t we?”

  Reece blinked. “With a demon wandering around Bay City? You want us to fill in at Andre’s restaurant?”

  “Nen just fed it. He won’t let it loose again until it’s weaker. He left the lotus to make me stew. I don’t want to sit around with nothing to do but think. I’d rather work.”

  Reece wasn’t good at sitting either. She’d rather keep busy, too. “I’ve never done waitressing.”

  “This is a private party in the upstairs room,” Andre assured her. “All you have to do is put plates in front of people and then take them away. You can do that.”

  “And me?” Damian asked. "What can I do?”

  Andre looked him up and down. “You’ll have to stay in the kitchen. You can help me cook and dish up.”

  They left in a rush. On the drive to the restaurant, Reece looked at herself. Jeans. Scuffed gym shoes. An old T-shirt. Her usual. “Do your workers wear uniforms? I’m thinking I don’t suit a French restaurant.”

  Andre cussed. “I forgot. We usually wear white shirts and black pants. We’ll have to think of something when we get there.”

  There was work to do first. When they got to the kitchen, Andre led Damian straight to the stove. “We’re buried in chicken. We can start browning it. Nearly one hundred people are coming and they expect chicken chasseur.”

  “What the hell's that?” Reece asked.

  Damian carried a deep, metal bin of chicken parts to a steel work table. He ticked things off on his fingers. “Meat, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, wine.”

  Her gargoyle would know that. He’d learned to cook in each and every country he’d lived in, protecting mortals, over his many centuries.

  Andre dredged breasts, thighs, and legs as he spoke. “It’s a dish we can make ahead. Convenient.”

  “What can I do?” Hecate asked.

  "Get the tables ready." Andre gave them all simple instructions, and they set to work.

  While Damian and Andre cooked, Reece and Hecate prepped.

  “We don’t have to do dessert.” Andre’s relief was obvious. “Mom and my brother are bringing truffles.”

  When they arrived, they brought black skirts and white shirts for Hecate and her to wear. Thank God, the skirts were long. Reece hadn’t shaved her legs for a few days. What was the point? Damian was too busy to notice. Her dirty gym shoes didn’t quite complete the outfit, but they were comfortable, and she had a feeling she was going to do a lot of running tonight.

  She was hoping Andre’s mom and brother would stay, but they had to get back to their other restaurant. His mom tossed them a thumbs-up. “Good luck.” And left them to it.

  Reece fidgeted. She couldn’t believe it, but she was nervous about waiting tables. What if she dropped a plate on someone? What if she knocked over a wine glass?

  Damian came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He bent and whispered, so that only she could hear, “You can do this. You teach martial arts. You fight rogues. This is a cinch.”

  Her hand went to her hair, tucked into its low ponytail. “I don’t have on any makeup.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “You always say that.”

  “Just stating a fact.”

  She turned and gave his cheek a quick kiss. “There are days I scare small children.”

  He laughed. “This isn’t one of them. Go get ‘em.” He went to join Andre to ladle shrimp bisque into white tureens. That finished, they began tossing romaine salads.

  When the guests settled at their tables, Reece grabbed a tray and followed Hecate into the dining room. Two other girls had made it to work, and they motioned to where Reece should start. Thankfully, Andre had done everything possible to make their jobs easy. They'd already put two thermoses of coffee on each table, along with a bottle of white wine and a bottle of red. Water glasses were filled. All they had to do was deliver food.

  It all seemed simple, but by the time Reece returned to the kitchen, she never wanted to be a waitress. Too much work.

  Andre blew out a sigh of relief. “We’ll clean as much as we can, and if we need to, we can call in help to finish up tomorrow morning. But we did it. The pa
rty wasn’t cancelled.”

  When they finished, Andre tugged them together in a group hug, waitresses included. “You guys are the best! We rocked this, and we'll be even better tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Reece started to shake her head.

  “We have another party, bigger than tonight’s. I don’t know how long my staff will be sick.” Before Reece could argue, he gave a wicked grin. “But I’ll hire temporary help if I need to.”

  Reece glared. He was messing with her.

  They were finishing up when a waiter, who'd been working in the restaurant downstairs, came to see him. "Can we talk?"

  “Tomorrow. It’s been a long day.”

  "But I heard that half the staff is sick. I worked last night, saw a man leave the downstairs kitchen. I asked if he needed anything and he told me he was looking for you. When I said I'd try to find you, he said he'd try some other time."

  They all went still.

  "What did he look like?" Andre asked.

  "Short, friendly, going bald. Said he was happy to help you out."

  Reece frowned. Not Nen. But then, Nen couldn't enter the restaurant. No enemy could.

  "Help me out?" Andre shook his head, confused. "Thank you, Francois. I appreciate your telling me this."

  The waiter gave a satisfied nod and turned to leave. Andre took a deep breath. He looked at the rest of them. "What do you think?"

  Damian answered. "Nen sent someone to tamper with your food. But no customers were affected, were they?"

  "Once a week, after we finish serving, we all gather around a table for our family meal. We eat together and bounce ideas around."

  "And you did that last night?" Damian asked.

  Andre nodded.

  "But Francois was fine."