Mother of Demons (18 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

As they left the London streets behind, the landscape changed around them. Rows of shops and terraced houses gave way to deep golden swathes of harvested wheat fields and lush green expanses of grazing land.

McKinley drove, chewing his gum and tapping the wheel in time to a tune playing in his head. Harry could feel the anticipation emanating from him. He was tense, as Harry was himself, at the prospect of what was to come. The likelihood of failure was very real. If he were being honest with himself, he’d put their chance of success at about fifty-fifty. So he was under no illusions about the difficulty of the task ahead of them.

They crossed the border into Hertfordshire, and Harry felt his instincts sharpening, his mind clearing of pretty much everything apart from the task in hand. “Take the next turnoff,” he said.

McKinley nodded and indicated they were leaving the motorway. Soon they were driving along narrow lanes with high hedges of beech and hawthorn, and blind bends where McKinley had to reduce their speed to a cautious crawl.

Eventually Harry pointed to a lay-by in the road ahead. “Pull in there,” he said. “We’ll walk through the wood from here.” McKinley looked around at the dense growths of alder, ash and beech, some of them dwarfed by massive oaks and horse chestnut trees.

They got out of the car and picked their way up the bank, their feet slipping on the mud left after the overnight rain. Once they reached the top of the bank, they headed north, finally locating a path overgrown by thorn-rich brambles and thick clumps of gorse. As McKinley struggled with the thorns tearing at his trouser legs, he turned back to Harry. “Why do I feel I should have dressed for the occasion? Do you know how much I paid for these shoes, for these pants? Look at them now, ruined.”

“Charge them to expenses,” Harry said grimly. “Not far now.”

Up ahead of them, they could see where the tree growth thinned. There was a barbed-wire fence with rotting posts and rusting wire. There was a gap in the fence, a gatepost standing sentinel each side of it, what was left of the gate lying on the ground, half-covered by bindweed and thick couch grass. Affixed to one of the gateposts was a rectangular sign made from distressed plywood, the corners of the plies curled and browning. The fading black letters read
Jackman House
.
In the distance they could see the house itself.

Built during the mid-Victorian Gothic period, the house had once been grand, with high, mullioned windows and a turreted roof. A few ornamental waterspouts remained, but others had fallen to the ground and lay there cracked and broken, the cast-iron gutters long rusted through and hanging from the roof.

Most of the windows had been boarded up and the doorways covered by sheets of green-painted corrugated iron.

They approached along what once had been a gravel drive, but dandelion, plantains and thistle had superseded the gravel, and there were shallow potholes in the drive, filled with brackish rainwater.

“What a dump,” McKinley said as they stopped on the drive fifteen yards from the front door. “Do we go inside?”

Harry held up his hand. “Not just yet. Let’s get our bearings first.”

He looked to his left and right. The woodland had encroached so that it had taken over the drive. “If it was left long enough, nature would reclaim this place for itself.” He looked up at the roof. Where the gutters still clung to it, buddleia had taken root, and long, arched branches of the stuff had curled down to touch the walls.

“Alice!” he called out suddenly, making McKinley start. “Alice? We know you’re in there.”

A few seconds passed and then Tim Logan called out. “Go away! Go away and leave us alone.”

“We’re here to help her, Tim. Let us help your sister. Let us help Alice.”

There was no response, and they glanced up at one of the windows where the boards had been torn away. Something white flitted into and out of their view.

“Alice? Is that you? You must be cold in there. Let us take you home. You don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Go away,” Tim yelled again. “She doesn’t want to hurt you, but she will if she has to.”

“Pull back to the trees,” Harry said. “He means it.”

The two men turned and jogged back to the cover of the trees. “So. What’s plan B?” McKinley said. Harry said nothing, but stood in the shadow of a large chestnut, rubbing his chin and staring back at the house.

As they watched and tried to figure out what their next move should be, the corrugated iron sheet was pulled away from the doorway and Alice Logan stepped out into the light.

Dressed in a short white tunic, her blonde hair dirty and matted with cobwebs and twigs, the girl looked feral.

She spread her arms wide and stared at the trees. “Come, my child, come,” she called.

From the right of them, Harry heard rustling as something moved through the undergrowth and trees. he and Mckinley both turned to look but all they got were impressions. A pair of red eyes looking at them from out of the shadows, glimpses of brown fur, and an undercurrent of sound made up of low growls, snapping branches and constant rustling.

Harry turned to McKinley. “Run, John, run! Back to the car!”

As they ran, the rustling became crashing, and the low growl became a deep-throated roar. McKinley glanced back and cried out as he saw a huge, dark brown bear on all fours, bounding through the bracken, gaining on him.

They found the gap in the barbed-wire fence and barreled on through, reaching the muddy bank and sliding down it to the road. They got to the car at the same time and yanked open the doors, hurling themselves inside and pulling the doors shut behind them. They looked back to the wood, but it looked calm, peaceful. The trees and undergrowth were still. Nothing moved. No bear.

It was raining, and water dripped down from the trees to splash on the woodland floor below.

“Shit!” McKinley said. “A bear. Huge.”

“It’s not a bear,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“It looked like a bear to me,” McKinley said, breathing just as heavily as Harry and sweating profusely.

“You can’t just summon up bears out of thin air,” Harry said.

“So if not a bear, then what?”

“A demon,” Harry said. “A minor demon maybe, taking on the form of a bear, but a demon just the same. That’s how it’s able to move around unseen. She calls it up when she needs it. She can empathize with it, see what it sees. Experiences the kills as if she’s doing them herself. But we’ve dealt with demons in the past, John. We can deal with this one.” He stared back at the trees. “I told you she was powerful,” he said thoughtfully.

“I believed you then; I believe you now. The question is what the hell are we going to do about her?”

“I’m thinking about it,” Harry said.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Ready for round two?” Harry said and pushed open the car door. He stepped out and McKinley came around the car to join him.

“So, what’s the plan?” he said.

“I haven’t got one,” Harry said. “We’re just going to have to play this by ear.”

“I was worried you were going to say that.”

“Just stay vigilant,” Harry said. “Remember, it’s not a bear. We can defeat it.”

Together they made their way back into the wood.

The rain was starting to lash down, the full force of it deflected by the branches overhead, but they were soaked within minutes. They reached the fence and passed through the gate, finding themselves again on the weed-strewn drive.

They stood there on the gravel, staring up at the house, their gazes searching the building, looking for any sign of Alice or Tim. They heard a noise behind them, something crunching over the gravel. Harry turned to see Violet Bulmer, in a wheelchair, emerging from the trees, being pushed towards them by Jason West. They stopped a yard behind them.

“Vi?” Harry said, but she put a finger to her lips to hush him.

“This started with me,” she said, her voice strong, like iron. “It will end with me. Now stand back. All of you.”

She put her hands on the arms of the chair and pushed herself upright. She stood there as the rain poured down, flattening her copper-gray hair to her head.

“Alice! Tim! Show yourselves, this instant.”

The three men held back as gradually the undergrowth behind them began to rustle. All three turned to face the trees.

The bear broke from the undergrowth and started loping towards them, savage teeth bared, a growl rising in volume to a baritone roar. Each of the three men raised their hands in front of them and made passes through the air.

When it was within twelve feet of them, the bear stopped running and reared up on its hind legs, the roar becoming deafening. McKinley made another pass with his hands, air-drawing the sign of a pentagram, and then stabbed his hand forward, index finger pointing. The bear staggered and dropped back to all fours, shaking its huge, shaggy head as if stunned.

As the rain continued to fall, it appeared to be washing the dark brown fur from the creature’s body. The fur slipped from its haunches, dripping to the ground like brown sludge, leaving behind grayish, dirty pink, translucent skin, threaded with blue veins and pulsating red arteries. The head was the last thing to be denuded of fur. The eyes turned from red to dull gray, and the mouth opened once more to roar but could only manage a watery croak.

The head had shrunk to little more than a misshapen skull covered by thin gray skin. The demon lifted a sinewy arm and held it out as if to ward off a blow, as Harry and Jason, following McKinley’s lead, moved the air in front of them and sent another wave of energy at the demon. It stood there for a few more seconds, until the skin along the length of its spine split open and the flesh began to slough off its bones.

Finally, it collapsed, falling to one side, where it lay as the pounding rain slowly dissolved it, turning the body into nothing more than a muddy pool that soaked into the gravel drive.

They looked to the woods but nothing moved, nothing came rushing towards them, and all they could see were the trees.

“It’s over, Alice,” Violet called out. “Show yourself. Come out into the light and finish this now.”

Silence settled over the house and woodland, broken only by the sound of the rain splashing on the drive and lashing the walls of the house.

As they watched, the corrugated iron sheet was still pulled to one side and Alice Logan stepped through the doorway and stood there on the porch, the diaphanous material of her short robe soaking up the rain, becoming transparent. Tim hovered in the doorway behind her, whey-faced, his whole body trembling.

“Let’s end this, Alice,” Violet said steadily.

“Not Alice. I’m
Artemis
,” the girl said in a strong, commanding voice.

As Alice stood there in the rain, she raised her left arm, her fist aiming at Violet. Violet crossed her arms in front of her chest. Slowly Alice brought her other arm up behind her, arched, taut as if drawing on a bowstring.

Tim seemed to come from nowhere. He dashed from the doorway and stood, putting his body between Alice and Violet. “No. Ally! This has to stop!”

The girl stared as if challenging him, and then her fingers twitched and Tim cried out, staggering backwards as a red hole appeared in his forehead and the back of his skull blew outwards. His legs folded under him and he crumpled to the ground.

Alice stared at his twisted, fallen body dispassionately. “You did this,” she hissed at Violet, and then raised her arm again, cocking her head to the left, taking aim.

She drew her arm back behind her, but as the fingers of her right hand splayed, Violet threw her arms open wide. There was the sound of something whistling through the air, followed by a dull thud.

Alice looked down at the crimson stain blossoming on the front of her dress, and then she looked at Violet with a surprised expression on her face.

Vi stared back at her steadily, but the tears were already falling down her cheeks.

Alice’s mouth opened in a small
O
and she toppled backwards, hitting the ground, her dead eyes staring at the rain as if looking searchingly up to the heavens.

Violet turned away and started to walk back to the three men.

“Are you okay?” Harry said.

Violet nodded, took another step and then threw her hands to her head and cried out.

“You killed my baby!’

Harry turned in the direction of the voice. Through the rain, he saw Stephanie Logan walking out from the trees. Hair plastered flat to her head, her eyes wild, she approached Alice’s fallen body. Tears were pouring from her eyes, mingling with the rain spattering her cheeks

Violet was still clutching her head.

Stephanie crouched down beside Alice and gently closed her eyes. “Sleep now,” she said, and then got to her feet, turned to face Violet and raised her hand. Violet cried out and staggered backwards,

“You knew she was here, Stephanie,” Harry said. “You knew all along.”

Stephanie looked at him, contempt on her face. “Of course I knew,” she said.

“But why did you say nothing?”

“My beloved Artemis…I loved her so much. We were happy once…until that bastard…that scum, Strasser, came into her life and took her away from me.”

“You encouraged the fantasy,” Harry said. “You bought the books, made Alice believe she was Artemis.”

“
She was Artemis
!” Stephanie screamed at him. “She was always special.”

“You used me,” Violet said. “Used me to bring Alice back to you.”

Stephanie spun towards her, venom in her eyes, raised her hand again, and Violet screamed.

“Yes, sister, I used you. I knew you’d find her. Because you’re the one with the power, aren’t you? You’re the one Mother would praise and lavish all her attention on, because you had your
gifts
, the powers that made you so much like her. But what about me? I was special too, but she never saw me, because your shadow was too long and I could never get out from under it.”

“I had no idea—” Violet started, but Stephanie’s brow creased, and something flashed in her expression Violet reeled backwards as if struck.

“Well, now you know, Violet. I have powers. I’ve always had powers, greater than yours. When Alice was born, I swore then that she would never grow up in anyone’s shadow as I had done. Yes, I helped her realize the greatness she was destined for. I fed her imagination, helped her take control of the gifts that had been passed down to her, because
my
blood was flowing through her veins.”

“You created a monster,” Harry said.

“No, Mr. Bailey. I created a
goddess
.
I created Artemis
!” Stephanie said coldly.

She raised her arm again, but before she could deliver another psychic jolt, both Jason and McKinley stepped forward, hands raised to create a psychic barrier that enveloped Harry and Violet.

Stephanie staggered backwards.

Violet looked up at her sister bleakly. “You must really hate me,” she said.

Stephanie laughed harshly. “I’ve despised you since we were children. Always playing second fiddle, always second best. But I did something you can only dream about. I became a mother… and
I gave birth to a goddess
.”

“And you’ve lived your sad, pathetic life through your daughter,” Violet said. “And in living your life, you destroyed your precious daughter and, in turn, your son. I feel sorry for you, Stephanie. I really do.”

“And now I will destroy you and the lives of the pathetic people who care about you.” Stephanie stretched her arms wide, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Thunder crashed overhead and the rain came down in torrents, the wind gusting, whipping the rain into a maelstrom that knocked Jason and McKinley off their feet and sent them sprawling into the mud.

Harry grabbed Violet’s hand. “Together!” he yelled at her over the noise of the storm and gripped her hand tightly.

And they were one. One entity, one mind emitting wave after wave of psychic energy.

For an instant Stephanie was lifted from the ground, rising ten feet into the air. From the center of the vortex she screamed, a thin, piercing wail that rose above the noise of the tumult, to be sucked away in the gale. And as abruptly as it had started, the storm died, and she fell to the ground, landing in a crumpled heap at their feet, her head lying at an impossible angle, neck broken.

“Vi, I…” Harry said.

She shook her head. “Not now, Harry. Not now.”

“How’s Vi doing?” Susan said.

Harry shifted in the bed and took his cup of tea from the bedside cabinet. “The last I heard, she’s doing okay. Jason’s moved into her house in Chelsea. She’s given him three rooms upstairs to convert into his own flat. Although she won’t admit it, she needs someone in her life. She lost her family.”

“Has she spoken about what happened that day?”

“Not to me, and I doubt that she ever will. She’s in mourning, and will be for many years to come.” He sipped his tea and changed the subject. “So what are you going to do, now you’ve quit the force?”

“Take a holiday, I suppose. I haven’t had one in ten years.”

“Where do you fancy?”

“Somewhere hot. Not Greece,” she said firmly. “Definitely not Greece. The Algarve perhaps. Maybe I’ll go out there and search for locations where I can open a bar.”

“Sounds good,” Harry said.

“I heard they had problems out there finding bar staff who won’t drink the profits. Got any suggestions?”

Harry put his cup down again and took her in his arms. “I might be able to come up with a name,” he said, and kissed her. “I just might.”