StrangeDays

by Rebecca Royce

  Christian grinned at the sight. He hadn’t seen that one before. The toys were half the fun of doing the job.

  “Well now, Christian,” Jonah responded. “I figured this was your town and all. Maybe you might like to help me behead these doggies.”

  “Sure thing.” He moved forward, pulling his own disguised weapon out of his pocket. The whip felt right in his hands. He practiced with it so much. Other weapons could be more lethal but the leather whip always got the job done.

  He struck out, smacking the Hell hound hard in the neck. The creature surged forward, saliva dripping out of its mouth onto the ground. It growled, teeth bared, and its eyes told Christian it meant for his death. A second smack with the leather made the Hell hound hit the ground. Normally, he would show the dog mercy. It hadn’t been given a choice as to its master. But with five of them in the vicinity and Jonah swiping at two at the same time, he knew the people behind him still had three dogs to contend with.

  Screams, curses and growling filled the area of the stage.

  Christian’s dog wouldn’t get the option of going back to Hell. It had to die. He wrapped the leather whip around the dog’s neck and he tugged until it snapped. The Hell beast hit the ground with a thud. When someone came to clean up this mess later they’d call it a rabid. Everything could be justified as in the realm of normal. Nice and tidy.

  A shout at the bar made his heart stop. He whirled around. Mindy had jumped up on top of the bar and seemed to be trying to strangle one of the dogs with the beer tap. It growled and Christian could see she didn’t possess the strength to keep the action up. Any second, it would lunge…

  He rushed forward just as the dog did what he thought it would do. It went right for her face. She screamed, falling backward on the bar and then slipping even farther to the back of the bar.

  Christian leapt upward and snapped the dog’s neck as soon as he landed. Mindy groaned, now in Dodie’s arms. Blood flowed freely from the bite. It gushed down Mindy’s face and all over Dodie who tried to stem the flow.

  He pulled his shirt over his head and handed it to Dodie. “Push this down on the wound. We need to get her to the hospital.”

  Hell hound bites bled profusely. Their teeth, sharper than a regular dog’s, tore the skin from the body in large chunks. They’d be lucky if she didn’t bleed out. Suddenly, Jonah was there and before Christian could even move had Mindy in his arms.

  “I’m taking your car.”

  Christian handed him his keys and Jonah rushed out the door with Mindy. He glanced around the room. The dogs were all dead. Several people cowered near the stage, including one of his fellow dancers who called himself Ace.

  Ace raised his head. “Are they gone?” He stuttered the last word.

  Christian nodded. “They’re gone, man. You can come out.”

  Dodie launched herself at him and he caught her mid-jump. “Is she going to die?” She whispered the words, her head pressed against his neck.

  “I don’t know.” He’d never lie to her. “If anyone can save her, it’s Jonah.”

  She nodded. “You and Mindy are all I have in the world.”

  There was simply nothing to say to that. Platitudes would not bring Mindy back to Dodie fully healed. She knew it and whispering nonsense about everything being fine would only make her upset.

  “Let’s go back to my apartment. I want to show you how to use a sword.”

  “I’m the coward.” She sniffed. “Mindy keeps fighting them and I keep freezing. She watched her boyfriend die and can find the wherewithal to keep going. What is the matter with me?”

  “Dodie, my love.” He kissed her nose. “Not everyone should be fighting them. Very brave, strong, talented people cannot fight demons. I don’t want this for you but I am sure with enough time you could do it too because I see in your eyes that there is nothing you can’t manage. You’re not a coward. Let’s go home.”

  The clown was going to die. Painfully.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dodie froze as she came into her hallway. They’d avoided the stairwell so she hadn’t needed to see where BoBo had almost killed her. But standing outside her apartment nausea hit her hard. The spiders. She still had to face the creepy-crawlies again.

  Christian turned to face her. “You okay?”

  “No.” She knew they were going into his home, not hers, but being that close to the arachnids did nothing but remind her of the whole experience, from start to finish.

  His phone rang and he answered it. Her heart sped up. It had to be Jonah calling about Mindy. The spiders could wait. She wanted to know how her friend had fared.

  “Right. Thanks.” Christian disconnected the line. “They took her into surgery. A plastic surgeon is going to do the best he can since it’s her face but it’s likely she’s going to live with a reminder pasted on her face for the rest of her days.”

  “I don’t care about that. She’s going to live?”

  He grinned. “She is.”

  Dodie let out a big breath. Her friend had been through so much. Whatever happened next she could only hope Mindy got left out of it. Somehow she had to see to it that happened.

  “Thank goodness.” She nodded. “What are we going to do about the spiders?”

  Christian fell quiet. “I hate to tell you this.”

  Not something else. “Just spit it out.”

  She’d reached her saturation point on bad news. Whatever he had to say would just swirl around with the rest of it taking residence in her brain.

  “There were probably not ever really any spiders.”

  “That’s impossible.” No. She shook her head. “I saw them and so did Mindy.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.” He stepped forward toward her door. “Don’t you think we’d see them out there? Do you think some of the spiders wouldn’t have found cracks in the wood somewhere and traveled out here by now?”

  His words made sense. Still, she didn’t like the idea that she might have imagined the whole thing. “Maybe my apartment is really sealed up well.”

  Christian nodded, his blond hair bobbing up and down on his shoulders. “Maybe. Should we have a look?”

  “No.” She shouted her response and then covered up her mouth. There were elderly neighbors who might be sleeping. The thought startled her. “Do you think BoBo got to anyone else in the building?”

  “It’s a possibility but not one I’m willing to investigate until the morning. I can’t wake everyone up to see if they’re okay. They’ll think I’m nuts.”

  “Okay.” She knew he was right. Just because she would never sleep again didn’t mean everyone had to be driven insane by the night’s events.

  Christian approached her door. “Go wait in my apartment.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t mean to be dramatic about this but every time I separate from you for even a minute over, say, the last thirty hours—even to sleep—that clown attacks me in some way. Until I have a sword or something I’m not staying by myself.”

  If he thought less of her because she vocalized that fear there was nothing she could do about that. She certainly liked herself less for feeling that way. Mindy had rushed a Hell hound and attacked the clown. Dodie had become her least favorite type of woman. The kind who needed a guy to look after her. Yet having been in two standoffs with the demon, she knew she would not react well if he came at her again.

  “Then stand back so you don’t have to see any spiders if there happen to be any in there.”

  Christian poked open her door, sticking his head through a small crack to look around. He straightened back up to look at her. “Other than the toppled-over furniture, there’s nothing in there.”

  “I’m not crazy.” Why did it feel so important to state that?

  “I know.” He took her in his arms. “The demon made you see the whole thing. He’s a powerful son of a bitch and you’ve had no preparation.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes. “Can we stay at your place?” />
  “Yep.” He stepped away from her and opened the door. She waited for him to flip on the light and then followed him inside.

  “Funny.” She ran her hands through her hair. Her whole body ached. “It doesn’t look like the home of a demon hunter.”

  Christian cocked his head to the side. “Come with me.”

  He held out his hand and she took it, following him into the back of the apartment. As she watched, he undid his closet, revealing a bunch of hidden panels that had inside them the biggest collection of weapons she’d ever seen. Swords of all different kinds, guns, knives, a machete. Dodie stuck her head in farther to take a better look. There were some devices she’d never seen before and could not put a name to.

  “There are three hidden places in the apartment. This one for weapons. Two more for costumes and books. One of those hidden places is behind the fireplace, which doesn’t work by the way, does yours?”

  The sudden shift in his conversation threw her for a second. “No. I think it’s illegal for them to really work. Something about insurance.”

  “Right.” He nodded. “I guess that makes sense. And the other one is in the linen closet in the bathroom.”

  “Did you build that all yourself?”

  He smiled. “I did. I guess you could say I’m handy.”

  “Why do you carry the whip and not one of those things?”

  Christian pulled out the weapon she’d watched him wield in the club. He stroked it with one of his fingers before he put it back in his pocket.

  “Because it rolls up and doesn’t take much space. I can hide it almost anywhere and if it does somehow get discovered I have a whole speech I give about horses. Don’t ask. Anyway, it gets the job done.” He pulled one of the swords out of the closet. “I think something like this will work better on BoBo.”

  He handed it to her. She took it and almost dropped it. The sword, long and thin, had looked lighter than it actually turned out to be. “I feel like a pirate holding this.”

  Christian brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Do you really want me to show you how to use it?”

  “Does a sword work better than a gun at killing a demon?”

  “Depends on the demon.” He shrugged. “My guess would be, and it can only be a guess because I have yet to kill him, is that BoBo will die better by the blade than the bullet. That’s just my opinion based on other demons I’ve killed and the ones I’ve studied.”

  She handed him back his sword and rubbed her wrist. “I want you to teach me how to use it.”

  “Okay.” He paused for a second. “Now? Or would you like to take a nap first?”

  “Now.” She’d likely never sleep again. “I’m not falling asleep until I know how to kill it. Okay?”

  “Deal.” He nodded, handing the weapon back to her. “Should we start then?”

  * * * * *

  Hours later she knew how to hold it semi-properly—two-handed—how to stand, and the right way to jerk her shoulder when she wanted to plunge the Estoc into the clown should it arrive.

  “It’s a very old weapon.” He took it from her. She’d never managed to make contact with Christian’s body, which was a good thing considering she didn’t want to hurt him but it made her doubt whether or not she actually could.

  “Really? Where did you get it?”

  “Master Foy gave it to me when I graduated. We all got something. That was my gift. He said it would come in handy one day. Now I know it will bring about the end of BoBo.”

  The lights in the room flashed and Dodie yawned. Suddenly, she was so tired she couldn’t see straight.

  Christian took her hand. “It’s dropped about ten degrees in here.”

  “I hadn’t noticed, but now that you mention it, yes—it’s much colder,” Dodie agreed. “We need to speak to the landlord about all of these temperature shifts.”

  “No. Dodie, I think it would be great to go see Mindy. What do you say? Sound like a good idea?”

  Her head swam and she felt as if she suddenly looked at him from under water. “I’m not feeling very well. I think I’m going to go lie down.”

  He shook his head and yanked her against him. When he spoke, it wasn’t to her but to the room in general. “You want to fuck around, asshole? You take it out on me. Not her. Come in here and fight me. You leave her alone.”

  “But it’s so fun to play with you, Chaser. Hee hee.” BoBo’s voice sounded through the room and Dodie’s knees buckled.

  Oh god. How could she ever have believed she could fight him? She couldn’t even stand properly when he was around.

  “Here.” Christian hauled her into his arms and set her down on the couch. Before turning around, he handed her the sword. “You hold on to this. Okay, beautiful?”

  How could his voice sound so soft and gentle when he had to do battle with a demon?

  “Christian.” Her voice squeaked. “Please be careful.”

  BoBo appeared behind him and he turned around slowly.

  “Well hello, Clown.”

  Dodie gripped the sword more tightly in her hands. Her palms sweat. Everything would be okay. If she said it enough perhaps she’d believe it.

  * * * * *

  Christian forced his heartbeat to slow down. This would be a fight like any other fight. He had taken out many demons before and this one could be killed just as the others had.

  A surge of anticipation filled him. It would feel fantastic to be rid of this nastiness once and for all.

  Without letting the demon speak another word, he swung out with his whip. It smacked into the side of BoBo with a loud snap. The beast hissed and backed up two steps.

  “You see that’s the deal, Dodie.” He spoke to her because he knew she had to be freaking out. Hearing his voice would keep her calm. “They take on these forms, these strange, grotesque, sometimes ridiculous forms and then they have to keep them. I’ve never understood it, really. Why bother forming a body if it can cause you so much pain?”

  “Because this is how we get to play with you.”

  BoBo’s hands turned to claws and he lunged for Christian. Behind him, Dodie hissed in her breath while Christian darted out of the way. The demon’s eyes had turned so red they looked neon in the way they glowed.

  He lunged again and Christian dodged. The clown could conduct this strange dance as long as he wanted, Christian could play just as well as the demon.

  The temperature in the room fell another ten degrees and goose bumps covered Christian’s skin. That couldn’t be good. Icicles appeared on the ceiling and a large one flung down onto the floor. Christian jumped to avoid being sliced by the newly formed weapon.

  “Tricky.”

  The clown turned around and Christian braced for another attack, knowing he himself would soon take over the fight. Three more moves and the clown wouldn’t see its beheading coming.

  But the clown spun away from Christian. “Listen, I know how to do this. I’ve been watching you, Chaser. Observing you for years. I’m not going to play with you alone. I’ve brought some friends.”

  “What?” Dodie’s voice squeaked and one second later he dove for her. Damn it. He should have seen it coming.

  With a loud bang the windows to his apartment shattered and the room filled up with bats. They dove, spun and assaulted his room. Dodie screamed below him as he attempted to shield her with his body. This wasn’t going to be good. He knew he’d been made vulnerable and the clown knew it too.

  “Dodie,” he shouted over the roar of wings. “Listen to me. Something is going to happen now.” He didn’t want to terrify her but he needed her to be ready. “I want you to run when it does. Don’t look, baby. I know you love me. Got it?”

  “What?” Her eyes were huge and he gave himself one moment to stroke the side of her face.

  “Run, fast and hard. Don’t ever look back.”

  He really would have thought he’d be more terrified when it came to his own death.

  The clown yanked him off Dodie. He look
ed one more time at her while the demon plunged his knife into Christian’s gut. “Dodie. I said run.”

  Then there was nothing but pain and the sound of BoBo laughing hysterically. He supposed he should feel grateful for the blackness but he would have preferred his last moments to have been him watching Dodie flee the demon.

  * * * * *

  A white haze floated around his body. Christian stared down at his hands, amazed at how fluid they seemed. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there.

  He could hear screaming but he couldn’t see from where and right at that moment he felt…nothing.

  “Walk with me, Christian.” Master Foy walked up to him, placing his hand around his shoulder.

  “Okay.” Where had Foy come from?

  The white fog around him started to thin and he could make out figures around him. Faceless people he couldn’t identify. They all seemed to be strewn on the ground in different ways. One on his knees, another flat on his back.

  “What is going on here?” His pulse quickened. The earlier peace he’d felt fled quickly the more he realized how completely confused he had become.

  “Give it a second, it will clear.”

  Images passed in front of his face. He’d been in his apartment. Dodie. The clown. Death. She hadn’t run and even if she had…

  “Foy. I have to go. Dodie is in trouble. I’ve left her alone with the demon. Wait.” His head throbbed. “Why would I do that? I would never leave Dodie alone with a creature of evil.”

  “Yes. You would not.” Foy nodded. The man had been the closest thing to a father Christian had after his own had perished. Yet, as Christian observed him standing quietly, not uttering a word, it occurred to Christian just how young Foy himself had to be. Maybe forty? How had the man accomplished so much at such a young age?

  His Master didn’t like to talk about his own life and his students had speculated often.

  “So if you would never in a million years abandon an innocent to a demon then why would you leave the woman you love with one?”

  He swallowed away the tears that threatened to spill. Christian had never been a coward, not even when he’d gone from being the beloved son in a two-parent household to spending his nights fighting off kids twice his size in juvenile hall. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—become one now.