Demon Hunting In a Dive Bar (16 page)

T
he sun was setting behind the trees, and the temperature had dropped. In spite of the chill, the creepy couple crossing the lawn wore summer clothing. The man’s stained, sleeveless shirt hung open to the waist, exposing his emaciated chest and sunken belly. Grimy cargo shorts flapped around his bony knees. The female was dressed in a faded cotton shift. Both of them were barefoot. Bruises and scabs covered their arms and legs, and their hair was greasy and matted. Patches of crusted scalp showed through the woman’s thinning locks, and she dragged one blackened, swollen foot as she walked.

Just like Latrisse, Beck thought with a shudder. All used up.

The drunken kith shouted and followed the hideous creatures like a herd of eager paparazzi at a red carpet event. As if in response to some unspoken command, the crowd halted at a respectful distance as the two demons neared the house.

The couple paused at the foot of the steps and grinned up at Evan with blackened teeth. They were even more horrifying up close, with wobbly, liquid eyes like dark pitch. The odor of spoiled meat assaulted Beck’s nose. Demon-possessed humans stink like a butcher shop Dempsey Dumpster in July, and these two were no exception.

The smell was so awful that Beck had to breathe through her mouth to keep from throwing up. Evan didn’t seem to mind. Maybe he was used to it.

“All is prepared?” The man’s raspy whisper sent a shiver up Beck’s spine.

“Yes, Elgdrek,” Evan said.

Elgdrek’s ghoulfriend was in particularly bad shape. She was no doctor, but Beck suspected the woman’s foot was gangrenous. This pathetic wreck had once been somebody, a teacher maybe; someone’s wife or mother. A beloved daughter, perhaps.

How old had she been when she was taken? No telling; the body was too far gone. Young, though, Beck guessed. In her experience, demons were attracted to youth and vigor. Not much point in possessing an aging body. Why take a used clunker for a joyride when you could steal a brand-new sports car?

What if there was still a spark of human consciousness trapped inside that prison of decaying flesh? Beck didn’t want to think about it.

Charlie Skinner pushed his way out of the horde and swaggered up to the female cadaver. “Hey, gorgeous.” He grinned at the she-monster. “Where you been all my life?”

Gorgeous? Charlie’s words were slurred and he was unsteady on his feet. Drunk or not, there wasn’t enough alcohol on the planet to make this gal passable, much less gorgeous. Charlie’s moonshine wasn’t joy juice, it was psychotropic.

Her theory was confirmed when the female thing grabbed Charlie and gave him a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. Skinner threw himself into the caress to the accompaniment of hoots and catcalls from the onlookers.

Kissing this chick would be like licking a toilet. Charlie was drunk on Crazy Kool-Aid, no doubt about it.

Releasing Charlie, the woman smiled up at him and stroked his big belly. “I am Hagilth,” she said. “Later, we will have sex.”

Charlie flung his arms in the air like he’d won the lottery. “Yee-hah.”

Beck didn’t much like Charlie—okay, she didn’t like him at
all—
but she felt bad for him. Sex with Old Haggy would be like screwing a maggoty corpse.

Hagilth’s oozing gaze fastened on Beck. “This one is young and pleasing to the eye,” she said with a sickly grin. “You have done well, servant.”

Holy smokes, Haggy thought she was her new ride. Beck’s brain went fuzzy at the thought. Thank heavens she was kith and couldn’t be possessed.

Evan shook his head. “She’s not for you.”

“What?”
Hagilth’s face stretched and her mouth widened to the size of a washtub. “You dare refuse me, you insolent pile of rat droppings?”

Evan collapsed to the floor, his body twitching. The tattoos on his throat and hands squirmed and tightened, cutting into his skin like wire. Blood welled from the wounds.

Not tattoos, Beck thought with a ripple of shock.
Bindings. He’s their prisoner.

“Not human,” he gasped, clawing at the inky garrote around his throat with a bloody hand. “Can’t h-have . . . not . . . human.”

Hagilth sucked on a lock of her slimy hair. “I see. She is part demon, like you?”

“Yes,” Evan croaked.

“Disappointing,” Hagilth said, releasing him. “I hope you have others, for your sake.”

Evan rolled to his knees, coughing, and staggered to his feet. Blood dripped from his hands and throat, staining the front of his silk shirt. He reeled across the porch and rapped on the door.

“Bring them out, Peterson,” he said. Reaching up, he rubbed his throat with shaking hands. “It’s time.”

“You okay?” Beck asked.

Evan’s mouth twisted. “Feeling sorry for me, Cookie?”

“Maybe.”

“Don’t.” He snatched a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the oozing cuts on his hands. “I can take care of myself.”

He sounded just like her, a chip on his shoulder big as Montana. The realization made her squirm.

The door opened and Trey stepped onto the porch. Two young teenagers, a boy and a girl, accompanied him.

The boy was good looking in a high school heartthrob kind of way, with shiny brown hair and long, thick bangs that swept across his brow at a precise angle. The girl was attractive, too, round-faced and smooth-skinned, the girl-next-door type. Her shoulder-length blond hair was pale gold, with the silky texture that didn’t need a flat iron to achieve uniform straightness.

“Where’s the music and the DJ?” The girl looked at Trey with wide, green eyes. “You said this was a rave.”

Hagilth made a horrible snuffling noise. “Juicy,” she said. “Bring them.”

Beck’s stomach clenched. Oh, God, those poor kids. She knew what was coming next.

The girl took one look at Hagilth and started screaming, and the boy bolted. Trey shoved the girl at Evan and went after him.

This was her chance, maybe her only chance, while they were distracted.

Beck leaped over the porch rail and hit the ground in a crouch. Evan shouted something, but Beck’s attention was on the demons. She sprang at Hagilth. Beck was sure she could take her. The bitch couldn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. She’d snap her neck like a twig.

A pair of hard hands closed around her waist and yanked her back. She caught a flash of pink; Meat Hooks. The guard tucked her under one arm like so much baggage, and resumed his frozen stance at the foot of the steps.

“Let me go,” Beck said, kicking.

Meat Hooks’ arm tightened and Beck cried out in pain. Much more, and the son of a bitch would crack her ribs. Demon stink coated the back of her throat, and the overpowering smell of the guard’s aftershave made it hard to breathe.

Lifting her head, she saw Evan and Trey shove the teens off the porch and into the waiting arms of the demons.

“Leave them alone,” she shouted. “Dammit, they’re just kids.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass, Cookie.” Evan shoved the bloody handkerchief back in his pocket. “You can’t help them. It’s too late.”

Smoke poured from the ghouls’ gaping, broken-toothed maws and into the mouths of the helpless boy and girl. The teens stiffened and arched their backs, their limbs twitching and convulsing. When they straightened, their eyes were puddles of goo.

The bodies the demons had abandoned collapsed to the ground in a rubbery heap, as limp and formless as a deboned chicken. Evan barked an order, and the bald guard shuffled forward, scooped up the gelatinous remains, and threw them into the bonfire. The husks went up like tissue paper. Baldy trudged back to his place at the bottom of the steps.

The boy turned on the girl with a snarl. “I wanted the girl. You always get the tender ones.”

“Stop whining, Elgdrek.” The girl tossed her silky hair. “The boy is stronger and will last longer.” Turning, she gave Beck a gooey-eyed appraisal. “What ails this one? She seems excitable.”

“She’s drunk. Skinner put something in the moonshine, remember?” Evan said. “I’ll deal with her.”

He motioned, and the guard trudged up the steps and dumped Beck on a porch bench.

“I don’t like her,” Hagilth said. “If she gives you any more trouble, kill her.” She gave a voluptuous stretch and crooked a finger at Charlie. “Come here, you.”

Charlie’s face lit up. “Hot damn.”

“Not yet.” Elgdrek halted Charlie in his tracks with a look. “Business first.”

Hagilth pouted. “I suppose you’re right. But let us hurry. I want to play.” She threw back her head and laughed. “Ah, the bloom of youth is sweet.”

Youth’s sweet all right, you parasitic bitch.
Beck sat up and pushed her long hair out of her face.
For a few weeks, a couple months, maybe, a year at most, and then you’ll toss this poor girl aside like an old sock.

Not if I can help it, Beck thought. She could see the demons pulsing inside the teenagers like malignant tumors. The right tool and the right opportunity, and she’d pull the bastards like a couple of bad teeth.

She got to her feet and looked around for something, anything, to use. There, sitting on a table next to a pitcher of fruit juice and several bottles of Skinner moonshine, a bottle of liqueur with a bartender’s metal tip. Perfect.

Hagilth and Elgdrek pranced across the lawn, and Charlie and the rest of the crowd followed.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Evan said. “You pull a stunt like that again and I won’t save your ass.”

“Fine by me.” Beck started down the steps. “Don’t do me any favors.”

She paused as the guards moved to block her, staring up at her with dull, unblinking eyes. She flapped a hand in Meat Hooks’ face; nobody home.

Looking over her shoulder, she found Evan watching her from the porch, one shoulder propped against a wooden post. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

“To get a drink, if Dumb and Dumber will let me by. I’m thirsty.”

The kith cheered as the two demons climbed onto the bed of a pickup truck and started to speak.

“No more shenanigans, Cookie. I mean it,” Evan said.

“Don’t worry. I know when I’m licked.”

“Good. I’m in no mood for heroics.”

She patted her back pocket. “Yep, left my cape in my other jeans.”

“I’m glad you’ve decided to cooperate.” Evan slunk down the steps with loose-limbed grace. “Let’s have a drink together, to celebrate.”

Shit, shit, shit.
She did
not
want to play auld lang syne with Evan, especially with that poison Skinner had concocted. Nothing to do but be cool and fake it.

“Why not?” she said, tossing him a bright smile.

She sailed past the two loutish guards and sauntered over to the drink table. Evan followed.

Elgdrek was speaking to the kith in his slithery voice.

“—no longer have to be ashamed of what you are,” he said. “Join us and be rulers of this world. Oppose us and be destroyed. . .”

“Resistance is futile.” Beck turned her back on the drunken revelry, sickened by how easily swayed the kith were. Crowd mentality, she thought. “Guess this is where we get assimilated into the hive. Happy day.”

She grabbed two glasses, poured two fingers of moonshine into one, added ice, orange juice and peach schnapps, topped it off with an orange slice, and handed the drink to Evan.

“It won’t be like that,” he said, taking a sip. “The kith will be running things.”

“You mean, like you’re running things now?” She cocked her brows. “No thanks. I saw what they did to you.”

He stared at the tattoos on his hands. “It’s not so bad, so long as you keep them happy.”

“And if you don’t, look out,” Beck said. “They can do whatever they want to with you, ’cause you’re their slave.”

“I’m
not
their slave.” His eyes flared with heat. “I’m their partner. When things go down, I’ll be at the top of the heap. Play your cards right and you could wind up at the top of the heap, too.”

At the top of a heap of
bodies,
maybe. Given their way, the demons would turn Earth into their own personal theme park.

“You give Charlie this same speech?” she said. “’Cause it sounds familiar.”

“Skinner’s a tool. He’s greedy and conniving, but not very bright. I need someone smart, like you.” He frowned at her empty glass. “You’re not drinking.”

Damn. She’d hoped he wouldn’t notice.

She splashed a little moonshine into her glass for show, but he put his hand on the bottle and tipped it. Glug glug, the liquor poured into the tumbler. Crap; so much for keeping her wits about her.

“What about Peterson?” she asked, dumping some OJ on top of the booze. “Why’s he in this? It’s not like he needs the money.”

Evan shrugged. “He wants to get rid of his wife. She’s a raving bitch. The poor bastard can’t take a leak without her giving him hell.”

Beck stirred her drink to buy time. “How do you get rid of a ghost?”

Evan waved his hand in the direction of the truck. The demons had finished their “we are the world” speech and were knocking back a tray of drinks while the kith danced around in celebration of the new order.

“He’s made a deal with Hagilth and Elgdrek,” he said. “He gives them what they want, and they take care of Meredith.”

That made Beck’s antennas go up. “What’s Peterson got that would interest a couple of demons?”

Evan shook his head. “Not going there with you. Not yet.”

“What’s the matter, bro? Don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t trust anybody.”

Beck’s brain whirled. Trey wanted to get rid of Meredith badly enough to make a deal with the demons, but what did he have to offer the demons in return? Did he know something about this secret weapon the djegrali wanted? A streak of excitement shot through her. She was onto something. She could feel it.