Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom (33 page)

I puttered around making tea, trying to figure out the best way to start the conversation.

“Earl Grey,” Eddie said. “None of that sissy herbal tea for me.”

“No problem.”

“Don’t know why anyone drinks that stuff,” he said, muttering to the tabletop. “Damn pansy-ass drink.” He looked up at me. “What are you drinking?”

“Nothing pansy-assed, that’s for sure.”

“Hmmph.” His eyes narrowed, the bushy eyebrows drawing down to form a V over his nose. “No pansy drink, but you got a pansy-ass life.”

I started. “Excuse me?”

“You told me you were a Hunter. You’re no Hunter. Family. House. All the trappings.” He spoke as if that were a bad thing. “I thought it all might be a façade—that you might be training the girl—but no, you’re out of the game.”

“I’m retired, thank you very much.”

He snorted. “Like I said. Pansy-ass.”

“Watch it, Lohmann,” I said. “I can drive you back to Coastal Mists just as fast as I got you out of there.”

He snorted. “You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, but there wasn’t a lot of force behind my words.

“So why’s a retired Hunter looking for me?” He waggled his eyebrows shamelessly. “A little noogie?”

I laughed, my irritation with him fading. “You’re a lot of things, Eddie, but boring, you’re not.”

He adjusted his glasses on his nose, then leaned back in his chair. “Story time, girlie. What are you doing back in the game?”

As openings went, I couldn’t really expect much better, and I gave him the rundown, starting with Wal-Mart and moving more or less chronologically to the present. “Any ideas?” I asked after I finished. Above us, the shower had stopped. I’d talked fast, but not that fast. Any minute Allie might magically appear beside us. I hoped he had some answers. Even more, I hoped they were quick.

“Ideas . . .” He trailed off, smacking his lips. “Nope. Not a single idea.”

I deflated a bit. I’d been hoping so hard. But at least that answer was quick. “That’s okay. It was worth a shot.”

He snorted again. “Got ants in your pants, girl? I’m not finished. I said I don’t have an idea, but I don’t need one, either. Nope. I don’t need ideas because I already know exactly what that damn demon wants.”

He shut up, then, and took a sip of his tea.

I wanted to smack the china cup right out of his hand. “What?” I hissed, frantic for answers. “If you know, for God’s sake, tell me!”

“The Lazarus Bones,” he said, as if that were the only possible answer.

I just looked at him and blinked. What the hell were the Lazarus Bones?

 

 

Naturally I didn’t have time
to ask before Laura and Mindy reappeared. I considered steering Eddie into Stuart’s study, closing the door, and demanding answers. But that would have left me open to severe bodily harm by the girls, who were desperate to get to the mall before they missed Stan’s break.

Fine. Whatever.

I left a note for Stuart (who was working late on what I no longer necessarily assumed was legal or political stuff), and then we all piled into the van. Because Allie insisted, I parked near the food court and we headed there first. Since I’d had nothing to eat all day except for one overly iced cupcake, the food court sounded pretty darn appealing.

Not that I was going to be allowed food. I soon learned that Timmy, Eddie, Laura, and I were supposed to sit at a faraway table, trying our best not to look toward the girls’ table in case Stan realized we were checking him out. “Look casual,” Allie said. “Just some shoppers who aren’t in the least bit related to us.”

“Right,” Mindy added. “We don’t want him to know we came with our
moms
.”

“Perish the thought,” Laura said dryly.

“Exactly,” Mindy answered, completely serious.

And so we waited. And waited. And waited some more. I wanted to get up to get some French fries, but I was under strict instructions from my daughter to stay where I could keep her and Mindy in view for when Stan came by. I might lack a coolness factor of my own, but she still wanted to show the boy off to me.

I was both bemused and flattered. Mostly, though, I was hungry.

My curiosity, however, was even stronger than my hunger, and since Mindy and Allie were a good five tables away, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to get some answers from Eddie. So far, of course, he hadn’t said another word. (Correction, he’d said plenty of words, commenting randomly about anything and everything as we drove from my house to the mall. He had not, however, said another word about the Lazarus Bones.)

Now Eddie was just sitting there, his cane leaning against his thigh, his spritzer bottle of holy water on the table in front of him. Since I wasn’t into this coy bullshit, I asked him point blank. “What are the Lazarus Bones?”

Laura looked at me with curiosity, but she didn’t interrupt.

“The bones of Lazarus,” Eddie said. His face was deadly serious, but I thought I saw a twinkle in his eyes. He might be amused, but I wasn’t. I’d long passed the point of finding humor in the situation; I just wanted it over. And fast. And without anyone else (well, anyone human) getting hurt.

“That much I gathered,” I said. “Why does Goramesh want them?”

“He told you that,” Eddie said. He rested his palm on the top of his cane as he leaned forward. “The real question is for you, girl. Why are
you
looking for it?”

I leaned back, surprised by the question. “Well, to find it before Goramesh does, obviously. And then we’ll get it to the Vatican. It’ll be safe there.”

He nodded, his head bobbing and bobbing until I wasn’t quite sure he was going to stop. Then he smacked his lips. “Seems to me it’s pretty safe where it is.”

“Maybe now, but not for long. Look what Goramesh did to the monastery and that Mexican cathedral.”

“Eh.” This was accompanied by a very Gallic lifting of the shoulders.

“Eh, nothing,” I said. “This is my town. That’s my church. I’m not going to stand back and let it—”

“He can’t,” Eddie said.

“What?”

“If he could, he already would have.”

“Goramesh can’t attack the cathedral,” Laura said. Her voice held a bit of awe, and she was looking at Eddie with new respect. “That makes sense,” she said, this time to me. “The saints in the mortar. That’s got to be bad news for demons.”

She definitely had a point. “But that doesn’t mean Goramesh won’t find this thing, the Lazarus Bones.” It felt strange giving a name to the item. Before it had just been
it
or
the bones.
“He has human minions. We’re sure of it.” I didn’t tell him I feared that my husband might be a minion.

“If it’s been hidden, it will stay hidden,” he said stubbornly. “Don’t go messing with things you know nothing about.”

I decided to switch gears. “At least tell me why a High Demon wants the bones.”

“I already told you,” Eddie said. “What, you need to clean your ears out?”

“Right, right. The army rising up. What’s that got to do with Lazarus? Other than that he rose from the dead?”

Eddie reached into his mouth and removed his teeth, then sat them on the table next to the holy water spritzer. “Damn things cut into my gums,” he said, his voice now lispish and soft.

“Eddie,”
I hissed. “Tell me.”

“I’m telling,” he said. “Don’t get your knickers in a snit.”

I held out my hands, twirling one in a
come on already
motion.

“Raising the dead,” he said. “The Lazarus Bones can raise the dead.”

The answer made sense, and I probably should have guessed it, but to hear it spoken out loud. . . . I drew in a sharp breath.

“That’s not all,” Eddie said. “The bones regenerate the flesh, too.”

“My master’s army . . .”
I trailed off, thinking of the first demon.

“You mean, like
dead
dead?” This from Laura. “Six feet under for God knows how long? Bugs and creepy crawlies? Formaldehyde?”

“Yup,” Eddie said. “Fixes ’em right up. Soul’s long gone, so the bodies won’t put up a fight. And once the body rejuvenates, who’s going to know?”

“Holy
shit
,” Laura said, which summed up my sentiments nicely.

“But . . . but . . .” I floundered for something to say. This was bad. (How’s that for an understatement?) If Goramesh got his hands on the bones, he could become corporeal. His demonic minions could become corporeal. And suddenly they’d be able to do that without waiting for humans to die. Without fighting exiting souls. They just slip inside.

Not good. Not good at all.

“But . . .” I tried again. “But how can you be so sure? Larson never mentioned any Lazarus Bones. And neither did Father Corletti. And I sure as hell have never heard of them.”

“No reason you would’ve,” Eddie said. Something shifted in his features, a sadness that washed through him and added another ten years to his face. “I’m the only one alive who knows.”

Laura leaned in. “How can that be?”

Eddie looked over at the girls (I admit, I’d pretty much forgotten about Stan). “The boy’s still a no-show,” he said. “Looks like I’ve got time to fill you in.

“Back in the fifties,” Eddie began, “
Forza
sent me to help pack up relics in a cathedral in New Mexico before the government started atomic testing. Just in case. Typical duty.” He nodded at me. “You know.”

“Sure.” Hunters often do that kind of work. Because demons like to get their hands on relics to use in twisted demonic ceremonies, the Church will send a Hunter whenever a collection is being moved off site.

“I was working out of a cathedral in Mexico when I got assigned to that job. The rest of the team came to Mexico for briefing. Me, a priest, an art historian, and an archivist. We left Mexico for the States, and we were at the New Mexico site for over a month. First week we struck pay dirt. Hidden behind a loose stone in the cathedral sacristy we found a wooden crate and a papyrus note. Took forever for Zachary to translate it, but he did.”

“The Lazarus Bones,” I said.

He nodded. “Actual bones of Lazarus. I did my research later, found out how Lazarus was buried at Larnaca, then moved to Constantinople. After that, folks lost track. Somehow, the bones made it to the New World.”

Laura’s eyes were wide. “What happened?”

“Betrayal,” Eddie said. He closed his eyes and I saw his chest rise and fall as he composed himself. “I still don’t know who or why. All I know is we were attacked. The papyrus was destroyed. Our historian and archivist were killed. Damn bloody battle. Damn bloody demons—”

“But you and the priest? You survived.”

“And we had the crate.” He shook his head, as if warding off memories. “We were injured, close to dying, but I knew where we had to go. Far away, and someplace secure. Someplace they couldn’t get in.”

“San Diablo,” I said. “The sainted mortar.”

He nodded. “I couldn’t make it, though. Father Michael took it the rest of the way.”

“
Brother
Michael,” I whispered. “He revealed San Diablo, but he died rather than tell them exactly where the urn is.”

“So where is it?” Laura asked, voicing the question of the hour. “Let’s just go get it and get Larson and get it out of this town.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said. “I never saw or spoke to Michael again. He made it here. But that’s all I know.”

I frowned, wanting to argue with him, to tell him he
had
to know because I had no clues.

“Leave it be, Kate. It’s not meant to be disturbed. And you have other responsibilities.” As he spoke, he nodded toward the far side of the food court, and I realized that the elusive Stan had finally joined Allie and Mindy.

I twisted around, wanting to get a good look at this mysterious hunk. And when I did, my breath caught in my throat and fear licked over me like a flame.

There, at the table with my daughter and her best friend, sat my Richie Cunningham demon. Todd Stanton Greer, recently deceased, and looking none the worse for wear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I leaped to my feet, ready to pummel the fiend, then immediately sat down again. It was a long way across the food court, and if Greer saw me coming, he might just kill my daughter. I needed a better plan, and I needed one that didn’t involve Greer recognizing me.

I shifted my chair, putting my back toward the demon. My insides were trembling, and I’m sure I was sweating.

“Kate?” Laura looked at me, concern in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“That’s him. That’s the demon who attacked me by my trash cans,” I said, my voice a low whisper.

Laura took another look, and I sneaked a peek, too—just as Stan sprayed a burst of Binaca into his mouth. “Holy shit,” Laura said.

“No kidding.”

“Holey sheet!” Timmy banged a little fist down onto the table. “You got holey sheets, Momma?”

“Something like that, kid,” I said, then to Laura and Eddie, “I need to get him away from her. But I can’t let him see me. Dammit, dammit,
dammit
.”

“Dammit,” Timmy mimicked, but this time I barely even noticed.

“Should I go?” Laura said. “Maybe tell her there’s a fifteen-minute-only sale at the Gap? That Tim’s sick and we have to go home? What? What should I do?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” I glanced at Eddie, but he’d been completely silent during the whole exchange. For all I knew, he’d drifted back into his own little world. I stifled a sigh and focused on Laura again. “What’s he doing now?”

She shifted slightly, peering over my shoulder for a better view. “Still talking to Allie,” she said. “But Mindy’s on her way over here.”