Demon Hunting In a Dive Bar (19 page)

Deep in the woods, there was a strange, wavering cry, followed by another and another.

Conall’s senses sharpened. “Wolves,” he said, “coursing large game, a deer perhaps.”

“We don’t have wolves in Alabama. Those are coyotes.”

Conall processed the strange term with his translator.
Coyote: a small wolflike carnivore with slender build, large ears, and a narrow muzzle. Similar to the jackals of Algroth, only with four legs, not six.

The excited yips and howls of the coyotes mingled with the deep bay of a hound, the unmistakable growl of a large feline, and other animal sounds Conall did not recognize. The scene in the bar from the night before flashed through his mind, a strange menagerie of shape-shifters wreaking havoc before running off into the night.

“Do these coyotes run in packs with other wild creatures?”

“No,” Cassie said, frowning. “That must be the kith. From the sound of it, their blood’s up about something.”

He flung open the vehicle door and climbed out.

BOOM. BOOM.

No woodcutter, that; a behemoth moving through the woods, destroying everything in its path. The djegrali had such power. He opened his mind and caught a faint trace of demon, too faint and weak to be the cause of such havoc.

BOOM. BOOM.

“Coo-kie,” someone shouted.

Evan, the brother; headed in the same direction as the kith and seeking the same prey.

Rebekah
.

A black rage seized Conall. He clamped down on it, calling instead upon the detachment that had served him so well for centuries. He was steel and ice, relentless and unforgiving. Cloaking himself in the merciless cold, he stalked through the woods toward the sounds of battle.

T
he kith boiled out of the gulch, dozens of them in animal form. They’d divided their numbers, clever creatures. While a few sounded the chase in another part of the woods, the rest had crouched in the leaf-choked gorge, waiting to spring the trap.

Beck gave up looking for a stick and broke off a tree limb to use against them. Exhaustion and her injuries made the task more difficult than it should have been, given her kith strength, but staring a snarling posse of wild animals down the throat was sufficient motivation to get the job done.

A group of coyotes with dingy fur, black markings, and the Skinner sneaky looks led the attack. Eyes glowing red from the combined effects of blood lust, gold fever, and Charlie’s magic elixir, and they charged.

Hank met them head-on. The bear swung a great paw and a coyote went flying. He swatted another one. It yelped and hit the ground in a limp heap.

Toby went after a third. He caught the smaller canine in his jaws, slung it to the ground, and went for the belly.

The rest of the kith wised up. Making a wide circle around the dog and the bear, they swarmed Verbena.

“Go ’way,” she shrieked, batting at the snarling animals with her stick.

A raccoon with eyes the color of blood latched on to one of Verbena’s skinny legs and dug in with teeth and claws. Verbena screamed and danced around, but the animal held on. Wading into the fray, Beck pulled the coon off Verbena’s leg and flung it aside. A collie–German shepherd mix slunk forward, belly to the ground, and rushed them. Beck downed it with a kick to the head.

“Put your back to mine,” Beck told Verbena. “We’ll fight better that way.”

Verbena complied. The next few minutes went by in a blur.
Thwack.
Beck bashed a bobcat in the head.
Thwack, double thwack.
She knocked aside an oversized ferret and two gigantic possums. On top of everything else, Charlie’s moonshine had supersized some of the kith.

Creepiest of all was a jumbo bunny with burning eyes and incisors like a saber-toothed tiger. The Velveteen rabbit on Skinner crack. She punted it aside. It was soft and squishy, like kicking a teddy bear. Ugh.

Verbena was crying. Racking sobs shook her thin body, but she kept swinging her stick.

Kick, jab, bash, bonk, smack, thunk.
The fight took on a rhythm of its own.

Beck ignored the pain in her head and the leaden weight of her frozen arm and concentrated on fending off the kith with her makeshift club. Her right arm ached from use, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving, always moving, back to back with Verbena.

Sweat poured down her face and stung her eyes. She was exhausted but the kith were tiring, too. Unconscious and injured animals lay in heaps on the ground. A Doberman limped off on three legs. Other animals followed.

Beck wiped her brow and looked around. Two coyotes remained. They were baiting the bear. Hank smacked one to the ground. Growling, he chased the other one into the brush. Toby went after them.

Beck dropped the tree limb and sank to the ground. Verbena collapsed beside her.

“It’s over,” Verbena said. Her voice sounded hoarse. “We won.”

A twig snapped and Earl Skinner stepped from behind a tree. “I wouldn’t be counting your chickens just yet, baby sister.”

Verbena jumped up, her expression wary.
“Earl.”

There were half a dozen men and women with him, all with the sly, narrow-faced Skinner looks. Damn. The decoy group; Beck had forgotten about them in the excitement of the fight.

Earl slapped one of the men on the back. “Told ya if we bided our time she’d be ours for the taking.”

Beck struggled to her feet and hefted the tree limb. “Go away. There’s been enough killing for one day.”

“I want that gold.” Earl jerked his thumb at Verbena. “Git over here, shit for brains. Don’t make me come after you.”

“Leave her alone,” Beck said. “You want the gold, it’s yours. It’s back at the house.”

It was a bluff. She didn’t know squat about demon gold. For all she knew, it had dissolved in a puff of ash along with Elgdrek. She hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out.

Earl spat. “Them demons ain’t gonna give us diddley unless we do what they say.”

“The demons won’t be a problem,” Beck said. “I killed one of them and I got the other one in my pocket.”

“Hear that?” Earl nudged his nearest kinsman. “She’s got a demon in her pocket. Bet mine’s bigger.”

The Skinners laughed.

“Don’t you ever get tired of waving your dick around, Earl?” Beck said.

Earl’s amused expression vanished. “Tell you what I am tired of. I’m tired of you treating me like a dumbass. You ain’t kilt no demon and you don’t give a damn about my worthless sister. You want that gold for yourself.”

Verbena took a step back, her eyes wide. “Is it true? Are you after the gold?”

“No,” Beck said. “Don’t listen to him.”

“You think a bunch of strangers care about you more ’n your family?” Earl said. “Now, git your skinny ass over here and make yourself useful for once.”

Verbena shook her head. “I won’t. I heard what they said. You’re gonna hurt me.”

“Aw, hell, Beenie, I’m your brother. Blood takes care of blood. We got your back. Right, y’all?”

The Skinners made noises of agreement.

Verbena hesitated, fear and uncertainty plain on her face.

“Hell with this,” Earl said. “I’m done being nice.”

He lifted his arm and Beck saw the gleam of metal.

“Look out,” she cried. “He’s got a gun.”

She dropped the stick and tackled Verbena as the gun went off. The bullet thudded into the forest floor, missing them by inches.

Furious, Beck rolled to her feet. “Drop the gun.”

Earl laughed. “Or what? We got you outnumbered and you ain’t armed.”

He whirled around at a noise. “What’s that?”

A large, gray animal launched itself at Earl from the bushes.

“Toby,
no,
” Beck screamed.

Earl squeezed the trigger, and the dog crumpled at his feet.

The rage simmering inside of Beck boiled over. Watery hands plunged out of the ground and grabbed the Skinners by the legs. The gun sailed out of Earl’s hand and behind a tree as he was jerked off his feet and buried up to his waist in the dirt. Cursing and screaming, the rest of the Skinners were dragged down beside him, planted in the ground like a bunch of butt-ugly tulips.

Beck ran over to Toby. He shifted and sat up, holding his injured leg.

“You’re bleeding like a stuck pig,” Beck said, hunkering down beside him. “How bad is it?”

“Just a flesh wound.”

She handed him Verbena’s bandanna. “Tie this around your leg. We’ve got to slow the bleeding till we can get out of here.”

BOOM. BOOM.

“What’s that?” Earl’s voice was shrill. “What’s that noise?”

Evan had heard the commotion. When it rained, it poured.

“Shift back, Tobes,” Beck said. “It’ll be easier to walk on three legs.”

“Can’t. Too tired and wrung out.”

BOOM. BOOM
.

Shit. She had one nerve left, and Evan was stomping all over it.

“Cookie? Who’s Cookie?” Earl said.

“Let’s get you on your feet,” Beck said, ignoring Earl. “We need to get out of here.”

“Here, let me help.” Verbena looked at Beck and flushed. “I owe you.”

“You git your ass over here and dig us out, Beenie.” Sweating and straining, Earl tried to pull himself out of the ground. “You hear me?”

The rest of the Skinners added their two cents’ worth, which mostly consisted of a lot of cussing and name calling. It would take a sensitivity coach a month of Sundays to make a dent in the Skinners’ lack of couth.

“No,” Verbena said, shouting them down. “I’m through with you. Dig yourselves out or stay there till spring for all I care.”

Turning her back on them, she helped Beck get Toby to his feet. He draped his arms around their shoulders. Together, the three of them started for the road.

The cries of the Skinners faded behind them, and the woods became quiet but for the crunch of their feet on the leaves and the strained huff of their breath. No more taunts from Evan, no more nerve-racking booms and thumps and crashes.

Beck should have been relieved, but the unnatural silence stretched her nerves tighter and tighter. Where was Evan? He hadn’t given up. She knew better than that. He was playing with them, a cat toying with three mice.

The forest held its breath, waiting.

“Something’s coming,” Toby muttered. He paused to catch his breath in the hollow between two tree-covered slopes. “Feel it?”

Oh, yeah, she felt it. A dark, brooding force was headed their way, something cold and deadly; something single minded and tenacious.

Beck swallowed. “It’s Evan. He wants Haggy.”

“It ain’t Evan,” Toby said. “This here’s something worse.”

What could be worse than Evan and the Neanderthal twins?

The morkyn. Beck’s heart lurched into a crooked rhythm. They’d found out about Elgdrek. They were coming to avenge his death.

OhGodohGodohGod. She tried to think, but her brain was mush.

A thought trickled through her panic. Leave, she should leave, lead the demons away from Toby and Verbena.

The sound of a gunshot made her jump. She stilled, listening. Somewhere in the forest, a large animal bawled in pain. She heard the howl of a coyote, followed by a man’s startled shout.

“That sounded like Hank,” Beck said. This was her excuse to get away, to separate herself from Toby and Verbena. “I’d better go see.”

“Let me,” Verbena said, darting away.

Beck tightened her arm around Toby. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

They took a few steps and the hillside in front of them rumbled and broke away. A hulking creature rose out of the dirt and leaves. The smell of wet and rot choked the air.

“Hello, Cookie,” Evan said, looking down at them from the shoulders of the mud monster.

Beck’s stomach did a queasy flip. Evan’s skin was red and oozing, and pockmarked with blisters. She had done this to him.

“You look terrible, bro.”

Evan’s swollen, peeling wreck of a mouth curved. “Gee, I wonder why.”

The ground shifted again, and a second monster rose out of the ground. A tattered bit of blue cloth hung around the ugly creature’s muscular neck.

It was Baldy, the other guard. Evan had called in reinforcements.

“No more games, Cookie,” Evan said. “Give me the bottle or I’ll turn Ragluk and Algg loose on you. Trolls are always hungry and not very picky about what they eat.”

Wonderful; Meat Hooks and Baldy were flesh-eating trolls. This day just kept getting better and better.

Beck closed her hand around the bottle in her pocket. A long, gray tongue shot out of Baldy’s mouth, coiled around Toby’s waist, and lifted him off the ground.

Toby pounded his fists against the rubbery binding. “Let me go, you ugly sum bitch.”

“Shake the bottle again, Cookie, and it’s snack time for Algg,” Evan warned. The troll retracted his tongue and gave Toby’s wounded leg a hungry, lingering sniff. “Or you can stand there and watch your friend get eaten alive.”

“Beck?” Toby’s voice went up a couple of notches.

Beck opened her senses. There was an underground stream nearby, but it was buried deep beneath earth and stone, and she was tired, so very tired. She couldn’t use Conall’s ring. It was fused to her frozen hand. She couldn’t shift and leave Toby. Algg would make a Happy Meal out of him.

“Okay, you win.” Beck held up the hot sauce container. “Take the damn bottle. Just don’t hurt him.”

Ragluk snagged the jar from Beck with a flick of his long tongue.

“I thought you’d see it my way,” Evan said, taking the container from the troll. “You’re too soft, Cookie. That’s your problem.”

“I don’t suppose you’d give me and Toby a head start before you open that bottle?” Beck asked.

“Sorry, Cookie.” There was genuine regret and something like sorrow in Evan’s eyes. “No can do.”

He had his hand on the bottle cap, about to untwist it, when the morkyn attacked.