bedeviled & beyond 02 - bedeviled & bedazzled (18 page)

That was just plain scary.

And unacceptable.

I decided it was time to take the offensive.

Springing back onto my feet, I pulled a knife from my boot and stuck it between my teeth. I flung myself onto my hands and launched myself over his head, twisting in the air so that I landed facing the back of the demon. As soon as my feet hit the brick floor I plunged the knife into his broad back, right between the shoulder blades.

The demon threw back his head and screeched and it was all I could do not to drop the knife and cover my poor ears. I closed my eyes and poured a jolt of power through the knife that I’d managed to bury up to the hilt right in the center of his back. If demons had hearts he would have been dead.

As it was he was basically just pissed off.

I leapt backward away from him before he could turn and grab me.

He threw his head back and bellowed his frustration into the cavernous space. For a moment his form shivered and flexed and I saw beyond the pretty shell a monster more horrible than I’d ever seen before. That was when I realized he’d fooled me with his mask like a regular demon could fool a human. Well shit!

I shifted again and landed chest to chest with the enraged critter. Before he could reach out and grab me I plunged the knife into his neck.

I’d pulled the knife back out and was across the room again before he could react.

He clawed at his neck but with a hole in his throat he couldn’t screech.

Point for me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cheets returning from another part of the nightclub with a woman in tow. I recognized Margaret from her husband’s description. Cheets gave me the thumbs up and I jerked my head toward the front door, praying she could get out before the demon saw her and Margaret.

Taking advantage of my moment of inattention, the enraged demon slammed into me and both of us flew across the room to smack hard against a stone wall. He must have weighed the better part of two hundred fifty pounds to my one hundred ten pounds.

I felt like a six legged bidjie bug splayed on the windshield of the Viper.

The impact knocked all of the air out of my lungs and I fought nausea as I struggled to regain my breath. Unfortunately, the demon wasn’t about to let me reconnoiter. His mouth opened and those huge, white teeth started to descend toward my throat.

I lifted my knife and tried to slam it into his side but he brought a brick-like fist down on my wrist and the knife went flying as I cried out in pain.

Those deadly looking teeth found my throat and bit down. I screamed as he worked at my flesh, tearing at the flesh like a rabid dog.

One moment he was ripping away at me and the next he was airborne, hanging above me on the end of a spear of power that felt as if it originated from my daemon hickey.

I focused and brought the power under my control, sending it from my hands to the demon and causing him to jerk even harder as if the power had grown. I guessed that it probably had grown, since I’d added my own meager stores to Dialle’s hickey stockpile.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hate that hickey.

I wasn’t sure which of us was more surprised by the turn of events. But it quickly became apparent that the superdemon couldn’t draw from the power that currently encompassed him.

It was an obliterating power.

I watched the demon struggle on the end of the power spear like a bug on a pin, his eyes wide with horror. And then slowly, oh so slowly his image started to waver and fade. I saw the ugliness of his true form hanging there for a moment before he completely winked out.

As soon as he disappeared the power disappeared too, as if it had only existed for the single purpose of vanquishing that demon and since the demon was gone so was the power.

I leaned back against the hard rock wall, panting. Feeling a trickle of moisture running down my neck I reached up, dreading what I would find there.

Amazingly, my neck was flawless...except for a trickle of well-earned sweat.

I’d healed myself again. I had to find out how I was doing that.

I blinked in the sulfurous air the demon left behind and pushed myself away from the wall. I would go and find Cheets and my client and get the Hades out of there.

I didn’t get far. A pile of clothing mounded in the center of the huge room caught my eye.

Shit!

The young female chattel was lying in a heap on the floor. It occurred to me that chattel often don’t survive the death of their masters.

Sighing, I ran to the girl and scooped her into my arms. If Cheets and I hurried, we might get her to the unplanned care unit before she died.

~SC~

The unplanned care unit was super-terra, meaning it hung above the Earth on a mind numbing construction of floating type devices that gained their power from the Sun.

Due to the fact that we had flown high above the legal flight stratum, the Viper had made excellent time and the girl had still been alive, if barely, when we’d arrived. Cheets and I sat in the hard, metal chairs in Waiting and my client huddled in a dim corner speaking on her miniature televisual to someone. I assumed it was her husband.

I was fascinated by the woman’s body language, it was definitely not what I would have expected having just been rescued from a superdemon. She didn’t appear to be happy and she didn’t appear to be relieved. What she did appear to be was pissed off.

After we’d been waiting for about an hour, a cranky, overworked unplanned care assistant stomped into the room and stopped in front of us, peering down at me accusingly. I looked up at her and tried to look meek and harmless.

She only scowled harder.

Not a surprise. I don’t do meek well. “Hey sis.”

Darma shook her head in disgust, dislodging a long, blonde curl from the formidable cylinder she’d tortured it into that morning. “Everywhere you go death and destruction ensue, Astra.”

My eyes widened. “Is the girl dead?”

Darma whipped an impatient hand at me. “No. She’s still hanging on by a thread. But I’m sure that’s no thanks to you.”

As usual, when my first feeble attempts to placate my sister didn’t work I resorted to teasing her. I’m not sure why I think teasing will be successful when dealing with someone whose sense of humor could easily be dropped from the tip of a pin into the center of an atom with lots of room left over. What can I say? I guess I ain’t too smart.

“Well I could have healed her myself but I’m always conscious of your need to stay busy and feel needed, so I brought her to you instead.”

I didn’t think it was possible for my sister’s scowl to go any darker but somehow she achieved new levels of pissed off.

“Astra Q Phelps!”

Oh-oh, the full name thing.

“You are quite possibly the most careless, reckless, inconsiderate creature I’ve ever had the bad luck to encounter. Why is it that all my years of struggling to rear you to be a decent individual have wrought me this!” She flung a hand toward me as if I were so disgusting I was beyond mere words.

I opened my mouth to stop her before she could break into a new rant but Cheets stood up and pulled her little woman persona out of the box where she keeps it for easy access when she needs it. She stepped right into Darma’s space and pulled herself up to her full five-foot-four-inch height, then raised her chin and pinned my sister with her fierce, cop’s gaze. She looked so fierce that when her hand shot up to show Darma her badge my sister jumped and winced.

“Mx. Phelps. I am PC Cheets and I was with your sister on the raid that saved that woman,” she pointed a short, square finger at the still huddled Margaret in the corner, “and the woman who is now in your care from a particularly nasty demon. I have no idea why you are blaming your sister for that poor girl’s condition but I can assure you that she not only had nothing to do with it but she vanquished the demon who did.”

Oops! One sentence too many there. Hades! She’d been on such a roll too. Darma had even shown signs of backing down.

With that last piece of information my sister’s spine reengaged and she pushed her weight back onto her toes, jabbing a long, elegant finger in PC Cheets’ face. “And that is exactly why she is entirely to blame Officer Cheets!”

With that she turned on her heel and stomped back the way she had come.

Cheets turned to me with perplexity written all over her face.

I shrugged. “She hates magic and refuses to acknowledge that things like demons even exist.”

Cheets pulled her mouth shut and shook her head. “
Damn
girl.”

I nodded. “Yup.”

~SC~

I returned to the office and, as I walked in and ordered the door to shut behind me, my gaze swung automatically to Emo’s desk. A jolt of pain hit me and my pulse picked up as I realized, not for the first time, what I’d done.

What if he never came back?

Forcing myself to shake it off I headed for my office. Throwing my long, leather coat onto its usual chair by the door, I walked over to my desk.

I didn’t sit down.

Once again I found myself standing in front of the large window behind my desk. Looking down at the street below. Life looked so normal down there. So calm and ordered. Not like my life, which always seemed to be fraught with complexity and altercation. I sighed, suddenly weary.

The air changed and when I turned around Myra was sitting in my client chair on the other side of the desk.

“Hello angel.”

As usual she wasted no time on pleasantries. “The demons have killed another hostage.”

I dropped my butt wearily into my chair, scrubbing a palm over my face. “I thought they were in the middle of a truce with the royals.”

Myra’s clear blue gaze locked onto mine. “They were. They figure since a demon was attacked today the truce is off.”

My eyes widened. “Shit!” It had never occurred to me that, by simply doing my job, I’d create a chasm in the fragile truce. “But the royals had nothing to do with me killing that superdemon at Castle Gregg.”

Myra continued to stare at me for a long moment and then nodded slightly. “You and I know that but Alcott has a hair trigger temper and he doesn’t see it that way.

I blew out my frustration on a breath. “Well frunk me to Hades and back again!”

Myra stood up. “Shall we?”

I looked up at her, glaring at the outstretched hand. “Must we?”

Her response was a slight raising of one eyebrow.

Sighing again, I stood and touched her hand.

We landed in a small, glass and chrome building filled with long, light colored benches carved in the simplest of styles. I looked around the space trying to get a bead on where we were but didn’t recognize it.

Myra dropped my hand and followed my gaze around the room.

Near the front of the building, at the end of a long aisle that ended where a low-slung chrome altar filled the center third of the room, were Raoul and his death detectives.

The room looked like the sanctuary in a church. But somehow not. The tall, arched windows that ran the length of the building on both sides were stained glass like a traditional church but there were no recognizable religious symbols or figures in the etchings. They were all about flowers and trees and scenes of nature.

My eyes found Myra’s and my eyebrows rose in question.

“It’s one of the new churches. Creative religion. They worship the earth and trees and grass and stuff. They call themselves the Church of Mother Earth.”

I scrunched my face, noticing the lack of crosses anywhere in the building. “They worship dirt?”

Myra’s narrow shoulders jerked toward her ears and then she said, “I’ll come back for you when you’re done.

I watched her shimmer away and then, taking a deep breath, turned to look down the aisle.

I so did not want to walk down that aisle.

Raoul’s head lifted at the sound of my footsteps on the wooden floor of the small church and he stood up as I approached.

We shook hands in a very businesslike fashion, despite the fact that his eyes on mine were hostile. “Raoul. I understand the demons have killed again?”

The hostility went up another notch and he turned away, motioning for me to follow. “Well someone certainly has.”

It was a young woman. The condition of the body was exactly the same as the last one, right down to the cheap imitation ring clutched in her hand.

I held the ring up to Raoul. “King Dialle the First must have a room full of these things huh?”

His response was a scowl.

When I’d finished my examination of the body, Raoul put a hand on my arm and led me down the aisle a ways, out of hearing of the rest of his detectives.

“I think you and I need to have a long talk.”

I stared into his eyes for a beat. They’d gone from hostile to determined and maybe even a little sad.

Finally I said, “I agree. We need to talk. But I’m not sure this is the right time.”

He shook his dark head. “It’s exactly the right time for what I have to tell you.”

I lifted my eyebrows at him.

“Let me take you to lunch.”

My gaze slid to the body at the front of the church and lingered there. For whatever reason I was reluctant to hear what he had to say. Our friendship had been important to me over the years, peripheral as it had been to my life, and I didn’t want to see it go away completely.

Thoughts of Emo flitted through my mind and my jaw tensed.

Raoul took this the wrong way. “Astra, you have to hear me out. It’s important.”

Making a sudden decision, I turned to him and gave him a slight nod. “Okay but if I don’t like what you tell me I reserve the right to kick your ass.”

He stiffened visibly but when I grinned he instantly relaxed. Finally he chuckled softly. “Deal.”

~SC~

The restaurant I selected was one of the more expensive restaurants in Angel City. Raoul accused me of trying to get even with him through his wallet. I just smiled and reminded him the place had state of the art privacy booths along with kickass food.

Raoul asked the elegant young woman who seated us for the most private booth available and slid something into her hand as we sat down.