A Girl's Guide to Demon Hunting (4 page)

Chapter 6

"Less talking, more punching."
                                 -Allie

    The sound of the bullet hitting the brick behind the Demon’s head reached me, bringing me back. What had felt like hours to me hadn’t even taken a second. I opened my eyes and watched as the Demon fell to the floor, sending little puffs of dirt into the air. The human fell next to him in a moaning heap of blood and limbs. His trauma was only from the fear and the fight; Shooter doesn’t miss.
    I stayed kneeling on the ground as the fifteen or so humans screaming in panic and shock scrambled to their feet and ran from the building. I wasn’t worried they’d tell anyone about what had happened. Not that we’d leave any evidence behind should someone happen to believe their crazy story. Lying back on the dirty floor, I gave myself a moment to catch my breath.
    I heard Pancake’s heavy breathing in the darkness behind me. She’d be in a similar state as me, juiced up on power and looking a little rough around the edges. I wanted to go to her, to make sure she was okay but I knew better; not until I was sure her eyes would no longer glow red would I bring her into the light.
    Slowly I got to my feet and went to the Demon I knocked out earlier. Bending down, I placed my thumb directly over its marker and gently pushed. There was a small snap and the Demon disappeared. One good thing about taking in Demon power, I was freaky strong right afterwards. While Ace got the still-shaken human in the van I walked to the other two Demons and sent them to meet their hell-bound buddy. Collecting Ace’s arrows and all the markers I went to Pancake and after ensuring she was okay I carried her to the van. She seemed fine, if a little frayed; I knew how she felt. Shock is shock; being used to it doesn’t change it much.
    Normally I would help with the cleanup but I couldn’t bring myself to be near anyone right now, not with all the darkness swirling inside me. Pancake curled into a little warm ball on my lap and I absently scratched her as I watched Shooter join Ace in the cleanup effort.
  
    It had been awhile since I’d felt this way. Physically I felt great; strong, full of energy, like I could take on every Demon in Vegas and win. Not that it would last; I’d crash in an hour or two. A little rush I could handle, it was the other side effect I didn’t like.
    It had originally started small, just surges of power that would come out of nowhere which I found difficult to control. I didn’t even know it was the same darkness my mother told me about, so different was her description from how I felt. I hadn’t thought it was such a big deal but as I took in more of the darkness, the changes grew. It began to take me less and less effort to access my power; in fact there were some times I had to concentrate on not using it. Even after I realized what it was, I thought I had a handle on the changes. I didn’t believe it would get any worse. Up until about a year ago. That was the night I caught on fire.
    I’d been walking home after dealing with a nest of Lust Demons. I’d accidentally killed one of them and its darkness still swirled thick inside me. It was Spring Break and The Strip was packed. Drunk college students crowded the sidewalk and as much as I’m not into that, I just wanted to fade into the crowd for awhile, let some of the darkness burn off. It was a sound plan, until I tried to cut through a slow moving pack of guys and one of them decided to grope me.
    I lived in Vegas and dealt with Demons daily, having my ass pinched was pretty far down on my “bad” list. But not that night.
Really?? I spent my nights in brutal battle to keep dimwits like him from being slaughtered and this was the respect I got?
Feeling that guy’s hand on me set something off inside.
    Moving faster than any human could track (certainly not a drunken imbecile) I spun around and pushed him to the ground, pinning him with my foot before he even registered the move. Standing over him, my boot planted on his sternum, I knew in that moment I would kill him. It would take no effort at all, just a quick push of my heel and his heart would be crushed. I felt my muscles bunch in anticipation of the kill and then something happened: I felt my power pulling at the darkness, like it was absorbing it and in its wake there was a burning.
    Consumed by what was happening inside of me, I completely forgot about the guy I had been about to murder. That is, I forgot until his friends’ drunken senses finally caught up with what had happened. Their shouts filled the air and I was pulled off of him. My mind still focused on what was happening; I stumbled away, pushing through the crowd. I hadn’t made it twenty feet when I was suddenly grabbed from behind.
    I felt thick arms wrapped tight against my chest and I was dragged into an alley. Even in my daze I must have sensed the danger and my mind snapped back into the moment. Fighting to get free, I clawed, kicked and even tried to bite. All to no use. It wasn’t until I unleashed my power that my attacker released the vise-like grip on me. Spinning around I went right on the attack but my fist froze in mid-punch when I saw the Lust Demon Lord standing in front of me, a very worried look on his beautiful face. Following his line of sight, I saw a warm blue flame dancing around my clenched fist.
    His name was Peter and he took me to a safe place; that night I learned what the flame was and more importantly what had happened inside of me. According to Peter, my power wasn’t fighting the darkness anymore, it was adapting; changing, absorbing it. The blue flame or Hell Fire, as he called it, was a result.
    When I killed that lust Demon, I crossed a line. Maybe that’s why Peter helped me; I still don’t know. I was no longer a Guardian and not quite a Demon, I was something else, something neither Demon nor Guardian could
 
classify. Which makes the whole Hell Fire/consorting with the enemy thing a major problem. If the Guardian Council ever got wind of my actions, I’d be in trouble. That is if they took mercy on me; other Guardians who’ve intentionally embraced the darkness of Demon power have simply been killed.
    None of us spoke as we drove to the hospital; there’s something about seeing someone shot, even a Demon, that tends to chase away the fun. Not that I was in the mood to talk anyway. Parking near the employee entrance of the hospital, Ace and Shooter helped the human out and handed him off to a waiting attendant.
Sometimes it was nice to have friends
, I thought as we pulled away. Had I been alone, there would have been a million questions and the cops would have been involved but Shooter was a paramedic in a former life and still kept in contact with some of his friends.
    It took us longer to get to Father Henry’s than normal since we had to take the scenic route through a bunch of neighborhoods. Not that it wouldn’t be interesting to have a cop pull us over and see a Demon in the back but tonight was not the night for it. As we turned down Father Henry’s street I rolled my window down, letting the cold night air swirl around me, chasing away the stench of blood.
    Shooter parked the van along the street and got out, walked to the front door and knocked. It’s a nice neighborhood, small houses, well kept yards. St. Mary’s sat just a block away. I felt myself shudder as I looked down the road where the street was bathed in the reds, golds and greens of
 
the school chapel’s stained glass windows.
    I always wondered what would happen if I stepped inside. Would I die on the steps? My body burning from the inside out like a Demon’s, nothing left but a pile of ash? I’d thought about it, especially in the early days struggling to live with the darkness. Maybe I should and just be done with it; there was no telling what tonight’s little influx of pure evil would do to me.
    Sitting back I turned my attention to where Shooter was walking with Father H out the front door. Shooter ran back to the van while Father H went to his car. I was happy he wasn’t riding with us; I felt enough shame without having to be in an enclosed space with someone as truly good as Father H this soon after the darkness.
    Shooter led the way as we left town and drove into the desert. Our headlights flashed on mile marker 167 and Shooter turned the van off the quiet two lane highway and down a dirt road. It was pitch black here, nothing but our lights as we bounced down the road. I wondered what this place looked like in the day time. I’d guess like every other patch of desert; dirt, random brush or cactus, pretty much a whole lot of nothing.
 
This was Demon dumping ground; Peaches had bought a two-acre plot out here years ago when there was a Demon-on-Demon killing spree.
    Those were the longest two weeks of my life; the Demons ended up with a pile of dead bodies and I had to go into hiding, afraid of the growing darkness. Two good things came of it though; first, we now had a place to dump Demons. Second; less Demons, which always made me happy.
    There wasn’t much to getting rid of the body; dig, dump, finish it off with lye so nothing would grow and ta-da! One dead and buried Demon. Ace, Shooter and I could do that; it was the other stuff we needed Father H for, to speak the words we couldn’t. Words like forgiveness, love and grace. I couldn’t even link them and Demon in a sentence, let alone in a prayer over its dead body. Still it was a thing once born of Heaven and we respected Father H’s feelings on the matter.
    Driving back into the city, I felt my stomach begin to twist into knots as I thought of going home. As tired as my body was, I didn’t want to sleep, to face the dreams I knew waited for me.
    “Jenny’s?” I suggested breaking the silence.
    “I’m buying,” Shooter said and merged into the turn lane.

Chapter 7

Tip 17:  Crank calling a Demon Lord is not funny. No matter what Ace and Shooter may say.

    Studio House Café was at the corner of Main and Second in the business district, far enough from The Strip, it was mainly a “locals only” hangout. It was the perfect place to get away from all the noise and lights of Vegas and just chill. Plus it was a sort of no-Demon zone; evidently they weren’t too keen on coming to a place where three Demon hunters hung out.
    Jenny’s dad bought the café a year before he was sent to prison for forgery. He’s
 
currently serving the second year of a five year sentence. Jenny followed in the family business and is now considered the best forger this side of the Mississippi; keep in mind the Mississippi is really far away on this side. The café is a front to hide the money she makes illegally but she still runs it like a real business. I don’t really understand how it all works, just that it does.
    The café had big comfy chairs arranged around low wooden coffee tables, along with dim lighting and acoustic music. It was the perfect place for romantic interludes or in my case relaxing with friends.
    I waved to Amy, Jenny’s only full time employee, as we all walked in. She stood on a little step ladder filling the giant coffee grinder with fresh beans. Her bright pink hair in pigtails, eyes lined with heavy black eyeliner, her pale skin glowed in the light. Wearing a
 
black t-shirt, bright pink tutu, and combat boots, she looked like a Goth ballerina. Ace went back behind the counter to lend her a hand while Shooter, Pancake and I went to our favorite dark corner. Falling into the soft chair, I felt myself finally relaxing.
    The door in the back marked employees only opened and Pancake leapt from my lap. Without a backwards glance at me, she took off running straight for Jenny. I didn’t both trying to stop her; I learned a long time ago there was no keeping Pancake and Jenny apart. She was like the favorite aunt, fun and always ready with some sugary treat. Tonight was no exception, as Pancake danced on her hind legs while Jenny pulled a cookie out of her pocket. She was going to spoil her rotten.
    There was no denying that Jenny was gorgeous; tall, skin the color of one of her many coffees, long black hair hung loose down her back.
Tonight she wore an emerald green sweater dress that matched her eyes perfectly and tall black boots. As she walked across the café to where we sat I felt the energy in the room change as all the guys (not counting Ace and Shooter) and even some of the girls stopped what they were doing and watched her.
    She pretended to be oblivious to the stares but we both knew she wasn’t. The clothes, makeup and flirty smiles were an investment in her freedom. She’d rather be in her art studio barefoot, covered in paint but she needs this business to succeed; otherwise she’d have to answer a lot of questions from people with badges.
    “Hey.” She said, sitting in the chair next to me.
Beneath the makeup she looked as tired as I felt.
    “You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, between exams and this place I’m beat. If it wasn’t for Amy I think I’d lose my mind.”
    Oh yeah, she’s also a part-time freshman in community college. Before I could ask her if there was anything else, Ace appeared carrying four coffees. Jenny and I sat a long time sipping our coffee, only half listening to Ace and Shooter rehash tonight’s activities.
    I watched the customers in the café; talking, flirting, completely oblivious of what was waiting for them outside those doors. Every once in a while someone would look towards us, their eyes skimming right past Ace, Shooter and me to stare at Jenny. Would they be so quick to dismiss us three if they knew what we did for them? What we sacrificed for them? Okay, I admit it: sometimes I get a little cranky. I had to remind myself these people had no idea what was out there in the dark.
    Ace’s laugh cut through my thoughts and I turned to watch him. His scar was healing nicely.  It always hurt a little to think there were things about Ace that would never heal, not completely. Which was exactly the way he wanted it. He made a huge mistake a long time ago and trusted the wrong person; among other things, it led him to who he was now.
 
And Shooter, he just kind of fell into this, too smart for his own good. Working the graveyard shift as a paramedic, he started to pay attention to the stranger injuries and deaths. He had it pretty much figured out by the time Father Henry found him. Once he met Ace it was a done deal. 
    Jenny’s story was almost as bad as mine. Born in Trinidad, she had a great childhood until the day she came home from school and found her mom dead, overdosed on pills. Unable to stay in the place that reminded them so much of her mom, her dad moved her here where they tried to make a new start. The only problem was Jenny couldn’t let it go; she never understood how someone who didn’t even like to take cold medicine could suddenly overdose. Shortly after enrolling at St. Mary’s, her search for answers eventually brought her to the attention of Father H and through him, to us. Like me, she’s never stopped searching for the Demon who destroyed her family.
   
    Lost in my own thoughts, it took me a minute to realize Jenny was speaking to me.
    “Hey, you in there?” She asked, a wrinkle of worry on her forehead.
    “Yeah, sorry. What’s up?” I replied pushing my dark thoughts away.
    “I was wondering if you had any plans next Saturday.”
    “Not that I know of; why?”
    Giving me a guilty smile, she said. “Because I kinda was hoping that…well, maybe you wanted to go out with me and a friend.”
    
Oh no, I’d fallen for this before
; Jenny the hopeless romantic was trying to set me up.  
    “No way. Do you remember last time?”
    “How was I supposed to know that his friend was a Demon? It’s not like they wear signs. Although if they did...”
    “Did you forget the clean-up that took? We had to drug your date so he’d blame it on a bad trip. It was dangerous and…well…awful.”
    “But he’s hot and I went to school with the friend; no way he’s a Demon. Please...” she begged, giving me her sad puppy look.
    “Fine, but make it clear to his friend it’s not a date and I’m not looking.”
    “Okay, but you may like him. It wouldn’t be so bad if you did.”
    “Right, ‘cause that’ll work. Could you imagine the questions...‘So where do you go to school?’   ‘I don’t, had Jenny forge me a diploma and school records.’ Or even better. ‘What do you do for work?’ ‘Oh, I work for a secret society, killing Demons. Wanna watch?’”
    “Okay,” She said, sounding defeated, “but you can still go out and have a good time, it’s just a movie after all, there shouldn’t be much talking.”