California Demon (39 page)

As David yanked the door handle and cursed, I looked around, trying to keep my focus and find another way in. I’d spent half of my life learning to keep calm. To control my emotions. To rein in my fear and use it against my enemies. Those were good lessons, and I dug deep to find that same strength again. Because I couldn’t lose control. Not now. Not when Allie needed me.

With sudden decision, I whipped around to David and held out my hand. “Give me your keys.”

“What are you—?”

But I’d already taken the keys and was running down the stairs to the parking lot. I jumped into his Jeep, shifted into gear, and gunned the thing. It shot forward, rattling up the stairs just as easily as climbing over a pile of rocks.

On the marble patio, I paused just long enough to fasten my seat belt. David caught my eye, his nod quick and determined. I clutched, shifted, gunned it—then smashed through the front door of the Danvers Museum, sending shards of glass flying and exploding an airbag into my face.

I expected the shrill shriek of an alarm system to pierce the air, but there was nothing, just the oddly hollow sound of the airbag hitting my body and the crunch of glass under David’s feet as he raced to me. He threw open the door and took my hand, pulling me out even as I unfastened the seat belt.

We raced into the heart of the museum, me leading the way to where I’d seen the Macedonian display. I hoped it was still there. More, I hoped Allie was.

The second we rounded the corner into the darkened special exhibits room, I saw her, and my heart flooded with relief even as I wanted to scream in terror. There she was, my beautiful daughter, on her knees in front of the open book, her hands tied behind her back. Troy Myerson stood behind her, his expression determined, her ponytail tight in his hand. And beside them both were JoAnn and Brent, similarly positioned as captor and captive.

David grabbed me by the collar and pulled me back to him, hiding both of us in the relative safety of the black drapes that still covered the walls. “Wait,” he whispered.

I wanted to struggle, to burst out and rescue my girl, but I knew he was right. We were outnumbered here, and if we went rushing in without a plan, someone might get killed. Someone who wasn’t a demon.

Cool loomed large, Creasley at attention beside him. Cool’s skin shimmered, the rotting flesh of the demon Asmodeus revealing itself with each beat of his human heart.

He stood directly across from Allie and JoAnn. Both girls were shaking, silent tears streaming down their cheeks.

I wanted to strangle the bastard, to send him back to Hell with my bare hands. It took every ounce of willpower in my body to wait. David’s hand closed on my shoulder, a silent reminder that I couldn’t jump the gun here. I couldn’t let my emotions rule my actions. Not if I wanted to win.

Asmodeus’s arms were raised, a stone tablet tight in both hands. Across the room I saw the display case, now a jumble of metal and shattered glass.

The room was still done up in the black velvet drapes, black lights providing the dim illumination that made the whole scenario seem that much eerier and caused the patterns on the tablets to glow.

The demon closed his eyes and started muttering in Latin, words and phrases I didn’t understand, but which clearly were working, because the pages on the book suddenly started to flip, as if stirred by a strong breeze.

“Out of time,” I whispered. My stiletto was already snug at my wrist, but now I slid it out, engaged the blade, then carefully replaced it in the wrist holster. With the two knives on my belt, that made three. I just needed one more thing.

I slid the backpack from my shoulder, then tugged the drawstring silently open. I took out two pistols and handed one to David, smiling despite the circumstances at the look on his face when he saw the SpongeBob image stamped on the grip.

“Shoot straight,” I whispered. Then I burst into the room, gun blazing, a stream of holy water hitting Cool in the face and knocking him backwards. More important, it silenced him.

Beside me, David did the same, nailing Creasley with his steady spray.

The stench of burning demon flesh filled the room, the putrid odor of sulfur and filth almost overpowering.

I raced toward Allie, her cry of
“Mother!”
echoing around me, the hysteria in her voice ripping at my heart.

“I’m coming, baby,” I yelled. “Hang on.”

JoAnn saw me and started screaming, crying out for me and Mr. Long to save her.

As I watched, Troy jerked Allie’s ponytail, pulling her to her feet. At the same time, his free hand whipped around, and I saw the flash of metal as he pressed the blade of a knife against her throat. She looked at me, her eyes wide with fear.

“Stay back!” he yelled. “Hands up, or I swear I’ll kill her.”

“It’s you who’s going to die, Troy,” I said, keeping my hands up, my wrists toward me so that he couldn’t see my stiletto. “Whatever they promised you, they’re lying. You’re not getting power or immortality or any of that. You’re being sacrificed, Troy.” I forced my voice to stay level and calm. I kept my eyes on the boy, trusting David to take care of everything else. “You’re the sacrificial lamb, and you don’t even know it.”

“Liar!”
he screamed.

Off to my left, I heard Creasley scream in pain as David got him with another stream of holy water. I saw a flash in the queer purple light as Creasley pulled a knife of his own, then rushed David. I stiffened, but I never took my eyes off my daughter. “David?”

The breathless reply came back almost instantly. “Don’t mind me.”

I exhaled in relief. I had no intention of leaving Allie. As far as I was concerned, David needed to take care of himself.

JoAnn was screaming hysterically for me, and Troy was yelling for Cool to get up. To do something. To shut me up. Allie, bless her, stayed straight and silent, her chin high and her eyes focused. I’d never been more proud or more terrified. Or, for that matter, more impotent. Because Troy could slice her throat with one quick move, and I didn’t have a clue how to keep that from happening.

So I stood there thinking as David battled Creasley and as Cool climbed to his feet. From within the chalk outline of a triangle I could now see on the floor, he seemed to loom over all of us. He looked at me, his piggy eyes blood red. “If she drops her hands,” he said, his words like ice, “kill the girl.”

Troy nodded shakily, and even from several yards away, I could hear his shallow breathing. “But she’s lying, right? I’m mean, like, she’s a total liar, isn’t she?”

The demon’s response was low and harsh. “You doubt my word?”

“No! I . . . I mean, I . . .”

“Silence!”
And then the demon began the Latin chant again. I caught only a smattering of recognizable words— Hell, prison, a demand to come forth. I didn’t need to hear the words to know what was happening, though. The tablet pulsated, the patterns glowing bright even as the book seemed to come alive. Once again, the pages flipped wildly, and the horrific cries of the damned escaped the pages to echo throughout the room.

Troy gasped, staring at the spectacle even as he tightened his grip on the knife. I could see Allie cringe as the blade pressed against her flesh, and I forced myself to remain still, afraid that even the slightest misstep would push the boy over the edge.

With me stuck like a statue, David stepped into the gap, emptying his pistol onto Asmodeus. But now the demon ignored the pain, barely even flinching when the water cut a path down the oozing red flesh.

A trancelike state had overcome the demon, and as he muttered the incantation, the book began to release the first Tartarus prisoner.

JoAnn saw it first, her high-pitched scream piercing the air. “A claw! Oh, God,
what is going on?
”

Sure enough, a grotesque hand formed of burned and oozing flesh, and with wolflike claws had emerged from the book and was grappling for purchase. Troy saw it, too, and as revulsion registered on his face, I saw his arm go slack.

We might not have a better chance. And we were damn sure running out of time.
“Now!”
I screamed to Allie, and she reacted like a pro, shooting her arm up and out, getting Troy at the wrist and forcing the knife away from her throat. She timed the move perfectly with a backwards head butt. Surprised, Troy spun backwards, but he recovered quickly, leading with his knife as he lunged back toward her.

My little girl had played it smart, though, and the instant she was free, she’d dropped and rolled. And that gave me the opportunity I needed. I shifted the gun to my left hand, then pulled the stiletto out with my right.

Then I sent it flying, hoping what little practice I’d gotten in over the last few months would suffice. The knife plunged into his thigh, and Troy flinched, screaming in pain as he dropped to the ground.

“Bitch!” he cried.

“Go!” I screamed to Allie.

She went, but instead of racing out of the room like I’d hoped, she tackled Brent, knocking the surf captain to the ground. JoAnn screamed and I raced that direction, but by the time I got there, it was all over. Allie had grabbed Brent’s head and smashed it back hard against the stone floor. The boy was out.

So, for that matter, was JoAnn, having released one final ear-splitting scream and then dropping into a dead faint.

In front of us, the cause of her scream protruded from the book. A slime-covered head, like something emerging at birth, materialized from the pages, the two hands that had already been released grasping for purchase on the stone floor as the demon struggled for freedom.

“Go!” I said to Allie. I pointed to JoAnn. “Get her out of here, and
stay out!
”

“
What’s happening?
What’s going—”

“Dammit, Allie! Just
go!
”

She hesitated, the uncertainty on her face almost masking the terror. Then she went, dragging JoAnn by the underarms toward the exit as I emptied the water pistol on the emerging Tartarus demon. The flesh popped and sizzled, but didn’t even slow the demon down.

Worse, my pistol was empty. I tossed the useless thing aside, pulled another knife from my belt, and rushed in to do battle with Cool.

He’d retreated into the far corner, and his incantations were louder and faster. If he finished—if he drew out the Tartarus demons—David and I would be dead meat. So, I figured, would most of San Diablo.

His legs were thick and powerful, like an animal’s, and while he held the tablet aloft, he kicked at me, the powerful thrusts forcing me backwards toward the book and the Tartarus demons.

I lashed out with the knife, managing to inflict a deep wound, but paying the price when he kicked the knife out of my hand, then landed a solid kick to my ribs, sending me flying.

I landed a few feet from the book, near where Allie and JoAnn had been. Troy, I saw, was gone, having slipped through the far exit. I imagined he was out of the museum right now, running as fast as he could away from this place.

I forced myself not to go after him and punish him for the hell he’d put my daughter through. The threat was still here, and powerful. And if I didn’t stop it, Allie would be living a far worse hell very soon.

A few feet away, the Tartarus demon continued to fight his way out. My entire body ached as I crawled toward it, then tried to slam the book shut. I couldn’t make it budge.

The claw reached for me, and I jerked back. The demon was still partially in Hell. If he caught hold of me, could he suck me back in with him?

“Kate!”

David’s sharp yell cut through the cacophony and had my blood running cold. I rolled over to see David on the floor. The marble tiles were slick with holy water, and as he tried to find purchase to push himself up, Creasley was coming at him, knife at the ready.

“Cane!”

I searched, found it beside me, then slid it across the floor toward David even as Creasley leaped for his attack.

He caught it just in time, running his hand down to knock off the rubber tap at the bottom to reveal a steel point. As Creasley’s knife descended, David slammed the cane up, that lethal point sinking deep into Creasley’s eye.

The demon escaped to the ether, and the body sagged to the ground. With only one demon left, only one Tartarus demon could escape. That, however, was one too many.

I didn’t bother waiting for David; I clambered to my feet and raced back toward Asmodeus. The Tartarus demon’s shoulders were out of the book now, and a puddle of slime was forming on the floor around where he emerged. Soon, he’d be out. And the only foolproof way to stop him was to stop the incantation.

To do that, we needed to kill Asmodeus.

The demon loomed before us, having gained height and bulk as he shed his human form. Open sores oozed with greenish pus and the stench he emanated was almost unbearable. I told myself this was a good thing. A revealed demon is a vulnerable demon. Never mind that he’s also a damn strong demon. So long as he stayed outside the human shell, he could be killed. And somehow, David and I were going to do just that.

I rushed in, knowing the move was risky, but needing to land a blow. More, needing the demon to shut up—to stop the incantation. I didn’t bother with fancy moves. Instead, I just lunged, burying my last knife in his midsection.

He screamed in pain, one thick leg shooting out to knock me backwards, even as his arms continued to hold the tablets aloft. I landed near Brent’s unconscious form, breathless, my knife still stuck in the demon’s thick hide.

I’d stopped the incantation, though. For at least a few seconds, I’d slowed the release of Hell upon the earth.

David bought us a few more seconds, rushing into the fray even as I climbed to my feet. I’d lost all three of my knives, and now I looked around for something to use as a weapon. I saw my stiletto shining on the far side of the room, no longer buried in Troy’s flesh. I started to dive for it, but stopped when I heard the familiar voice call my name.