Demon's Dance

by Keri Arthur

  “Morning,” he said, all too cheerfully. “Lovely day for it, isn’t it?”

  “That depends entirely on what you mean by ‘it.’” My voice was dry.

  He absently waved a hand. “You know, witch stuff.”

  I snorted. “By witch stuff, do you mean you’re sitting here enjoying cake while you scroll through Canberra’s libraries, or are you simply spying on Belle and me?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What, I can't just drop in to see my long-lost cousin without said cousin becoming suspicious?”

  “No. Give, Monty—what are you up to?”

  His lips twitched. “Thought you'd like an update.”

  “I would indeed, but on what, exactly?”

  “I had a look at the body of the first victim—the one with bite marks everywhere. I believe this skin walker could actually be a soucouyant—”

  “Except for the fact that while they leave their skins in a safe spot to go hunting at night, they always return for them. They're not skin walkers as such, and they certainly don't steal the skin off their victim's backs.”

  “I know, but—” He stopped and blinked. “How the hell do you know what a soucouyant is? Do you know how deep I had to go down the information rabbit hole to find anything concrete about them?”

  I smiled. “Belle and I aren't just pretty faces, you know.”

  “Yes, but I spent hours talking to the head of the Occult Studies department at the uni last night, and even he struggled to find anything more concrete than the usual myth disinformation.”

  Which was just more confirmation that the library Belle had been gifted was very precious indeed.

  “Did he find out how to kill them? Because the only suggestion we uncovered was salting their skin to prevent them reclaiming it. The problem with that, of course, is finding the skin in the first place.”

  “Indeed.” He frowned. “We didn't get anything else, but I suspect the usual methods of dealing with a fire spirit would work for a soucouyant.”

  I had no idea whether the “usual methods” were the ones Belle had found or totally different but I wasn't about to admit that. I leaned forward and crossed my arms on the table. “What about skin walkers? Did you find any information about them?”

  “Not really.” He scooped up a big chunk of cake smothered in cream cheese frosting and munched on it contemplatively. “But we've put an urgent request in with the US Witch Archive, and we'll see what they come up with.”

  “Which doesn't help us if this thing attacks again in the meantime.”

  “I know, but baby steps and all that.” He paused as his phone rang and pulled it out of his pocket. After a quick look at the screen, he hit the answer button and said, “What can I do for you, Aiden?”

  I clenched my fingers against the need to grab the phone out of Monty's hand and find out what was going on—or rather, who or what had been murdered. I doubted Aiden would be ringing him for any other reason.

  I listened to the very one-sided conversation for several minutes, but didn't really learn anything more than another body had been uncovered in Greenhill, a small town on the reservation's border.

  “Skin walker or soucouyant?” I asked, the minute he hung up.

  Monty shrugged. “Unknown at this stage. Apparently the woman who called it in was pretty hysterical, and they barely even got the address.” He scooped up the last bits of cake then downed his coffee in several gulps and rose. “I'd better go and grab my gear. Aiden said he'd pick me up in five.”

  With a sharp nod, he strode out the door. I couldn't help the wisp of envy that followed him. I should have been glad that the weight of looking after this reservation was no longer mine to bear, and yet... it just didn't feel right sitting here doing nothing. Not after everything we'd been through since our arrival here.

  Which was a seriously stupid way to be thinking given everything we’d been through had resulted in several hospital stays and near death. I rose, gathered Monty’s plate and the cup, and dropped them off in the kitchen before returning to help Penny clearing and serving.

  But as the evening drew closer and no word came from either Aiden or Monty, worry stirred. And with it came an odd sense of restlessness.

  “If anything had happened to Aiden, Katie would have come running for you,” Belle said. “So whatever you're feeling, I doubt it stems from any danger to him.”

  “I know.” I leaned a shoulder against the sliding door that led out onto our small balcony area—the only bit of private outside space we had—and watched the gathering twinkle of lights as another sunset faded into night. “But something is happening out there, Belle. I can feel it.”

  “Is that a 'my internal radar is twitching and evil is on the move' something? Or is it an ‘I hate not knowing what is going on’ something?”

  My lips twitched. “The former, I'm afraid.”

  “And you're sure it's not your psychic self being totally pissed about being left out of the action and wanting something to do?”

  “Totally—though it is indeed a fact that I really don't like being kept out of the loop like this.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.” She pushed to her feet. “Given we have no other plans tonight, why don't we just jump in the car—oh. Fuck.”

  “Yeah. And it's far too late to hire one.”

  “There are times when living in a small country town is a right royal pain.” She slumped back onto the sofa. “It leaves us with two choices—we contact the rangers, or we ring up Ashworth.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Why Ashworth?”

  “Because the man has a truck he can't drive, and because he came into the café last week and stated he was bored out of his mind.”

  “I thought he and Eli would be enjoying the time together?” Especially given Ashworth's job at the RWA generally had him working at all hours and away from home for days—or even weeks—at a time.

  “According to Eli, a bored and restless Ashworth is not a pleasant one to be around.” She smiled. “He all but begged me to give them a call the next time your radar went off.”

  “Why me? Why not Monty?”

  “I asked the exact same thing. Ashworth promptly told me that if we thought this reservation was going to let us off the hook so easily, we had rocks in our heads.”

  I snorted. Ashworth had never been backward when it came to stating an opinion, and it was one of the reasons why I liked him. That and the fact he very much reminded me of my grandfather.

  As I continued to stare into the gathering darkness, the nebulous feeling that evil stirred strengthened, and my gaze went to the green and purple glow coming from Émigré.

  Whatever I was sensing, it was at the club, hunting.

  “Which suggests that whatever this evil is, it's not very bright.” Belle pushed upright again. “I'll get the backpack ready—do you want to call a cab?”

  “Yes, and I'll also call Maelle, just to give her a heads-up.” She might have said she had no capacity to feel the presence of spirits or even demons, but she was still a very old vampire and one capable of magic. Even if she had no overt awareness when it came to the supernatural, there were certainly spells that could temporarily provide that ability.

  I unplugged the phone from the charger, quickly called for a cab, and then dialed Roger. I didn’t have Maelle's direct number, but given the intimate connection between vampire and thrall, calling him was basically the same thing.

  “Lizzie Grace,” he said, cool tones edged with surprise. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

  “An undefined but growing certainty that evil currently lurks in Émigré, waiting to pounce.”

  “If you're referring to my mistress, I can assure you she is well fed and of no danger to anyone.”

  Although there was no change in the tone or timbre of his voice, it was rather obvious he was making a joke. If he'd believed, in any way, that his mistress was the evil I’d referred to, then Maelle would have taken him over and refuted the statement direc
tly. And it would have also ended any future hopes I had of remaining unbitten.

  “News I'm ecstatic to hear,” I replied, voice dry, “but not the point I was trying to make.”

  “Indeed.” He suddenly sounded more serious, even if his tone remained the same. “And what evil do you think visits our establishment?”

  His use of “our” suggested Maelle was now listening in on the conversation.

  “At this stage, I'm not really sure. I'm just ringing to give you a heads-up, and to inform you that Belle and I will be over there in ten minutes.”

  “We'll be waiting,” he said. Or she. His voice was a strange mix of both. “In the meantime, we'll do a sweep of the venue and see if anything can be sensed. Thank you for the warning, young Elizabeth.”

  That last bit had been pure Maelle.

  I hung up, ran into my room to grab a jacket and my purse, and then clattered down the stairs. Belle was just coming out of the reading room, the backpack slung over her shoulder.

  “I packed everything I could think of, and every bottle of holy water we have in stock,” she said. “I figure if we are dealing with a fire spirit, it couldn't hurt.”

  The cab pulled up just as I slammed the café’s front door closed. Thankfully, Émigré wasn’t that far away and it didn't take long to get there. Security hustled us straight in without asking any questions.

  Maelle was waiting in the main room, but Roger was nowhere to be seen. She was wearing a deep blue aviator outfit this evening, and her hair had been swept up into a tightly bound topknot. Her appearance was as immaculate as ever, and yet there was something less than controlled emanating from her. Something that could, at any moment, unravel and create chaos.

  That something was the vampire.

  Someone—something—was hunting in her territory, and she was not pleased.

  “We've done a circuit of this entire area, but I cannot feel anything untoward.”

  “We may not find anything either,” I admitted. “But it's always better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Indeed,” she agreed evenly. “What do you wish to do?”

  I hesitated, and briefly scanned the room. The club only opened at sunset, but it was already half-full. There were plenty of clubs in Melbourne that didn't get this type of turnout on a Friday or Saturday night let alone a Wednesday. The colorful lights that swept the lower dance floor didn't stay long on any particular face but, even so, my psychic radar remained mute. Whatever I was sensing wasn't currently amongst those on the dance floor.

  “I think Belle and I need to do a circuit. If I sense anything, I'll let you know.”

  “I’ll be accompanying you,” Maelle said. “I can react against an attack far faster than you can throw a spell.”

  The thought of having Maelle at my back sent a chill down my spine. But I wasn't about to admit that, even if—as a vampire—she would have noticed the sudden jump in my pulse rate.

  “That's probably not the best idea,” I said carefully. “Please don't take this the wrong way, but your closeness will dilute my ability to sense the evil stalking this venue.”

  A small smile touched her lips but didn't do much to lift the coolness from her eyes. “Then I will allow Roger to shadow you. His presence has not affected your skills in the past.”

  Because he wasn't a scary old vampire—just the servant of one.

  I nodded and glanced at Belle. “Ready?”

  “I'll go right, you go left.” She opened the bag and handed me a small bottle of holy water. “Just in case we are dealing with a fire spirit and the damn thing attacks.”

  I tucked the bottle into my pocket and, as I resolutely went left, reached out to Belle’s thoughts and lightly linked our minds. This time, it was at a deeper level than our usual telepathic connection. All witches and familiars could mesh thoughts and share energy—in fact, one of the reasons familiars existed was to provide a last-ditch well of energy their witch could draw on in a worst-case scenario. Few witches ever went that far, as it was absolutely possible to drain a familiar to death—and while a witch could survive the loss of their familiar, they were always left far less than they had been.

  But the fact that Belle was also a witch meant that we could, under certain circumstances, share abilities as well as energy. While I couldn't use her telepathic skills, we could share others—as we had yesterday, when she'd remotely talked to Alice through me. So while she had no radar for evil, our current connection allowed her to borrow mine.

  I walked into the deeper shadows haunting this portion of the main room. The upper tier was divided into two distinct sections—the alien-themed bar lay to the right of the main door, and a series of seating “pods” on the left. Each pod seated between four and twelve guests around a metallic table, and offered some degree of privacy for those who wished it. The only lighting in each one came in the form of tea candles housed in grotesquely shaped lanterns, and while they didn’t throw off a huge amount of light, they did at least provide enough to see the faces of those within.

  Not that I actually needed to see anyone. Not when my “radar” was scanning each and every person and almost instantly rejecting them. The thing that had set it off wasn't in any of these booths—it was somewhere up ahead.

  And on the move.

  Roger appeared out of the gloom, but this time there was no welcoming smile. His expression was as blank as his eyes. He might be physically here, but Maelle was in charge.

  “Anything?” Though it was softly said, it carried easily across the pounding beat of the music and the underlying babble of multiple nearby conversations. I rather suspected it was a subtle form of magic, just as his ability to have the crowd part before him was.

  “Not yet.”

  I stepped around him and continued on. He silently followed, but the weight of his stare had my shoulder blades twitching. Even though there was no threat in that weight, the stirring uneasiness got stronger.

  One day, there would be.

  I shivered and forced myself to concentrate. The pods became more crowded—and far noisier—the farther around the room and the closer to the bar we got. A strobe of bright light briefly gave me a glimpse of Belle, but someone else almost immediately caught my attention.

  She was blonde, statuesque, and absolutely, mind-blowingly stunning. And a man who looked rather star-struck accompanied her.

  Our hunter, and her next meal.

  Belle, are you close enough to get any sense of her?

  Not really. There’re too many damn people in the way. She paused. But I caught a brief glimpse of her aura, and it had a really strange glow.

  Auras were one of those things Belle normally couldn’t see, and it spoke of just how well this connection of ours was now working. I couldn’t help wondering if the wild magic—or rather, the changes it had made to both me and my magic—had something to do with that.

  Define strange.

  She hesitated. It’s a weird dark purple-red, and didn’t surround her as such—it looked more like streams of heat trailing after her. It sort of reminded me of a comet and its tail.

  Suggesting it isn’t so much her aura but rather something to do with her energy output.

  Possibly. Belle hesitated. They just disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

  I swore and started pushing toward it, but very quickly realized there was a better way. I swung around. “Roger, I need a path cleared.”

  He glided past me, a small smile touching his lips. The throng of people standing between the dance floor and us parted as easily as Moses had parted the sea and, in very little time, we were standing at the top of the steps that led down to the lower level.

  My gaze swept the ever-moving mass of dancers, but I couldn’t immediately see the blonde or her victim.

  “Who are we looking for?” he asked.

  “A tall, absolutely gorgeous blonde.” Belle, can you see her?

  No. She paused. Oh wait, there she is—in the middle, right underneath Maelle
’s glass lair.

  My gaze briefly jumped up to Maelle’s office in the roof to get the right position and, after a moment, I found her. “I think she’s heading for the exit.”

  “Point her out,” Roger said. “So that my mistress can stop her.”

  “Middle of the dance floor—tall blonde in a red dress.”

  He studied the area and his frown deepened. “I cannot see her.”

  Confusion swept me. Aside from the fact she was a good six inches taller than everyone currently around her, her hair shone like a beacon in the multicolored lights sweeping the floor. “Seriously? She’s right there.” I pointed. “Just passing that guy in the gold lurex shirt.”

  “I see the shirt, but I cannot see the woman.”

  “Fuck,” Belle said, as she came to a halt beside me. “She must be using some form of concealment spell.”

  “I can’t feel any magic, though, so maybe it’s an innate part of her nature.” I glanced at Roger. “Is it possible to lock down the main doors temporarily?”

  He was shaking his head before I’d finished. “The health and safety people are here this evening—shutting the doors will not be viewed favorably unless there’s a very good reason.”

  “What about stationing a couple of security guys near the door, and getting them to pull aside any tall blonde that attempts to leave. Tell them they’ve won free drinks next visit or something.”

  “A good idea except for one flaw—if I cannot see her, it’s possible that no one else can.”

  “Her victim certainly can,” Belle commented. “He wouldn’t have the boner he has if he couldn’t.”

  Roger raised an eyebrow, amusement lurking briefly in his eyes. “I find the things you ladies notice very interesting indeed.”

  The woman and her star-struck companion were now moving toward the stairs leading up to the main exit. “We need to get over there, and fast.”

  “Then follow me.”

  Roger spun and strode around the top tier, moving quickly and easily through the mass of people. As we followed in his wake, my gaze went to the stairs and the two people unhurriedly climbing them. Halfway up she paused briefly and looked over her shoulder.