Night Call (Book 2): Demon Dei (37 page)

“Thank you,” he said.

In his head, Karl was a bit taller than he really was, a bit beefier. He had a full head of hair with no grey. Other than that, he had no real delusions about himself.

“My pleasure,” I replied. “Though I have to thank you for the final save. I was at the end of my plan and really just wasting time.”

Karl smiled sadly. “Beatrice. She always knows how to reach me, even when I’m so lost in my own head I can’t find the way out.”

“She misses you very much. You should go back to her.”

“I will. Soon. I think I might stay here for a bit longer though. It’s nice and quiet, now that he’s gone. It will give me some time to think and come to terms with what we did, Gerry and me. So arrogant,” he murmured to himself.

“It’s over now,” I said, unable to tell him about Gerry. That news might be better off coming from his wife. “At least, your part is over. I still have to finish kicking demon arse.”

“Asmodeus kept me very well subdued,” Karl said frankly. “It was almost as if I was in a small room, locked away from everything. There was nothing I could do against him while I was in that room, but there were gaps so I could see and hear things.” He gripped my a
rm with desperate insistence. “He wasn’t here just to help us with our research.”

“We figured that out. He’s here to be king.”

Karl swallowed hard. “Not just king. He wants to be God. And he didn’t just want us to create a doorway for him, but one large enough to bring an army through.”

As all incorporeal as I was, my mouth went dry and I had a sudden need for some Mylanta. It didn’t take a large or particularly active imagination to extrapolate the chaos caused by one, bound demon and guess the results of lots of unbound demons unleashed on the world.

“I hope knowing that helps you.” Karl offered me his hand. “Good luck.”

“I’ll need it.”

“Now go. Leave me to my peace and quiet.”

I opened my eyes. Karl was still on the bed before me, but his eyes were closed and his face was very relaxed.

Across from me, Angelshire pulled out a stethoscope and listened to Karl’s chest. A few more checks and the doctor looked at me, eyes wide.

“He’s in a deep sleep.”

I smiled, realised how tired I was and slumped back in the chair.

“You mean he’s going to be okay?” Erin asked from just over my shoulder.

Angelshire nodded. “Against all odds, yes.”

“He’s a tough customer,” I said. “Let him sleep. He’s had a trying day.”

“I shall let him sleep a week if it means he will awake,” Angelshire said firmly. “You, however, look like you should also be asleep.”

“At least I didn’t faint this time.”

“There is that. I trust you’re taking him home now?” he asked Erin.

“I wish I could say I was,” she said.

“I just wish someone would tell me what the hell is going on,” Nick said.

I hauled my arse out of the chair. “I tried to tell you in the car.”

“That? That wasn’t an explanation. That was a fairy-tale. A movie of the week. A badly written airport paperback!”

“Enough!”
Angelshire had an ability to shout in a whisper. “I have a sick patient here, no matter how well he may be doing now. If you insist on bickering, then you will take it outside. All of you.”

So we did. Erin, a long suffering expression on her face, herded us outside, but once there, Nick seemed reluctant to carry on. He crossed his arms and sulked while I basked in the beautiful morning sunlight.

“Did you find anything out?” Erin asked.

“Found out that the British really love the Beatles.”

She waited patiently for the real answer.

I sat down on the steps, weary from more than lack of sleep. “We were right. Asmodeus is pissed he’ll never rule Hell, or whatever they call their realm. He wants to be king, even if it’s not in his own realm.”

“That’s what he wanted Gerry and Karl for. To make a bridge to allow him to come through in his physical form and not be beholden to a summoner. So he can rule here.”

“Basically. But replace ‘king’ with ‘god’ and ‘him’ with ‘him and his army’.”

Erin shuddered.

“Holy fucking crap!”

I shot to my feet and Erin spun, the Glock that had made it past Angelshire’s scrutiny coming to bear. Nick back-pedalled toward us, pointing a shaky finger upwards.

Amaya dropped out of the sky in glorious, sun-bathed angelic form. In her hand was a sword. Oh yes. A sword of glowing blue light. She slashed the air with it and I swear I heard atoms splitting.

“What the hell is that?” Nick demanded, scrambling past us for the doors to the building.

“That’s what you’re here to protect me from.”

I grabbed his collar and used his own momentum to spin him around and all but throw him back down the stairs. He stumbled right into the furious demon’s path.

“This’ll work, won’t it,” Erin said, breathless, gun not wavering from Amaya.

“Fingers crossed.”

She sighed and flexed her fingers around the grip of the
Glock.

Amaya skidded to a stop before she could run into the man. The sword crafted of her spirit and anger lifted high to miss taking off an arm or two. She’d learned her lesson. Hawkins was her target, no one else. Did he really think he could deflect her by throwing innocents in her path?

The man caught his balance and straightened.

Her anger vanished. The sword dissolved. Wings fluttered once, twice, and then their weight disappeared from her back. Her hair shortened, turned black and the red demon-leather kilt expanded into a sensible pair of jeans and t-shirt.

“Nick?”

He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. After a second, he wobbled.

“What’s wrong?” She rushed forward to catch him.
“Is it your hand? Has it got worse?”

Nick shook his head and pushed her away. Turning, he stalked up the stairs to the man and woman waiting at the top. The woman had a gun, but it was lowering as Nick approached.

“What is going on?” Nick demanded.

Stairs?

Amaya looked around. Driveway, parked cars. Trees and manicured gardens across the road. A building of pristine glass reflecting a city above her.

Where was the Renata Rose? Where was she?

Her legs were weak. She sank to the cement. What the hell was going on?

“Amaya?” The woman with the gun crouched in front of her. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. Where am I? Who are you?”

“You’re in Brisbane and my name’s Erin. Don’t you remember how you got here?”

She shook her head. “The last thing I remember I was on the Rose. Nick had hurt his hand and Tom had to go fix him up, so I was baiting the sharks.” A deep ache flared in her belly. “Then I was…”

“Summoned.”

Amaya jerked. “You know?”

Erin nodded. “Yes. We know.”

“Even Nick?”

At the top of the stairs, Nick was arguing with the other man, who looked tired and familiar.

“He does now,” Erin said dryly.

“How? He has absolutely no idea what he did to me. It was a mistake. How could he find out?”

“Stay! No, just stay there.” The tired man held a hand up to Nick like he was training a dog. “Just stand there and don’t do anything.”

Nick’s mouth opened but the other man glared at him and his mouth closed. Scowling, Nick slumped down to sit on the top step. Satisfied, the other man trotted down the stairs. He crouched by Erin.

“She doesn’t remember much of the last week or so,” she told him.

“A week?” Amaya put her head between her knees. This wasn’t happening. The last time she’d been this confused, Nick had just bound her and she couldn’t comprehend why she was following him around like a love sick imp.

“I didn’t think that would happen,” the man said. “My main hope was that Nick could reassert his control. This is completely unexpected.”

Erin snorted. “Really? Are you that dense?”

The man spluttered and Erin sighed.

“If you were in Nick’s shoes, what would you want?”

“Um, my girlfriend back. But he tried that already and it didn’t work.”

“Exactly, so don’t you think that, unconsciously, he might want for the last week or so to never have happened?”

The man was quiet for a moment, then he swore softly.

“Men,” Erin muttered.

“Hear, hear,” Amaya said, her voice muffled by her knees.

“I’ll go tell Nick,” the man muttered.

“You do that.”

He left and Erin motioned after him.
              “That was Matt. We know what you are, and what Nick’s done to you. The short version is you were summoned away from Nick, made to do some things you didn’t want to do and the only way we could get you to stop was by bringing Nick here to—”

“To bind me again.” Amaya looked at the reflected city. “I hate this.”

“I can appreciate that. It’s not nice being forced to do things against your better judgement.” There was true understanding in Erin’s tone.

“Best tell me now,” Amaya said. “I don’t want to spend time imagining all the nasty things I might have done. What did I do?”

Erin gave her a frank look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You strangled a woman to death; threw my car, with me in it, off an overpass; pretended to be a demonologist to get close to Matt so you could kill him; beat up his vampire several times; healed my broken ribs; tried to get Matt to summon you so he could free you and you also destroyed a building’s lobby.”

“All in a week?”

“Or ten, eleven days.”

“Okay. Not the worst I’ve been made to do. Matt has a vampire?”

“Long story. At the moment, your summoner is very keen on you killing Matt. We’re very keen on you not killing him. Hence, Nick.”

“Excuse me,” Matt said politely.

They looked up. Matt and Nick had finished their argument and now stood at a respectful distance.

“If you ladies would care to take your conversation to the car, I think it’s time we left.” Matt nodded to the top of the stairs. “Before we get a right old bum rush.”

A doctor—going by his stethoscope and confident bearing—stood just outside the doors. Arms crossed, he frowned at them, foot tapping.

“Right.” Erin stood and offered Amaya a hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Everyone got into a white BMW. Erin and Matt in front, leaving Amaya in the backseat with Nick.

“Where to now?” Erin asked Matt as she started the car.

“Rocklea. We still have to find our errant boy summoner and his demonically possessed father.”

Amaya glanced at Nick. He looked back, just as confused. That lock of nuisance hair fell in his eyes. Her hand reached out to push it back. He flinched.

“Sorry,” she whispered, putting her hand in her lap.

In front, Matt and Erin were having a quiet argument, though they probably called it a discussion. Amaya ignored them. They knew what she was and how to control her. That made them suspect, especially while she had no idea of the full extent of what was happening.

“I’m sorry too.” Nick’s admission was soft, hesitant. “If I’d known what I was doing… What you were, I would never have—”

“Wanted me? You would have tried to have me exorcised?”

“I thought you were ghost! And I didn’t really want you exorcised. I just wanted—”

“You mean you tried to exorcise me?”

“No. Not really. I mean, we didn’t actually get to the point of priests and Latin. You disappeared again before I could organise anything.” He punched the leather seat between them. “Damn it, I thought you were dead. I wasn’t in my right mind, and you were the worst ghost ever. You broke my nose.”

“It doesn’t look broken.”

“You should have seen it last week. In fact, you did see it last week, when you broke it.”

“Hey.” Matt peered at them from between the front seats. “No more broken noses back there. This is a new car, even if it does smell like ghoul.”

Nick wrinkled his fine looking nose. “I thought a dog had puked in here.”

“It’s ghoul,” Amaya muttered. “Though it is a little more tolerable than most ghoul stench.”

“Kermit’s keen on personal hygiene,” Matt said. “Bathes at least once a year.”

Nick was staring at her. “You know about ghouls?”

“Filthy, smelly scavengers without a soul,” Amaya said. “The demon summoners’ favourite host for whoever they’re calling.”

“What else do you know about?”

“What else is there? Vampires, were-creatures, faeries, trolls, several types of demon, kraken, yeti—”

“Stop.” Nick held up his hands. “I can’t take that much in. I’m still trying to deal with the whole my-girlfriend-is-a-demon part.”

“Try dealing with my side of it. I’ve just realised I was happily playing the part of sex slave for two years.”

“Sex slave? How can you say that? I—”

“All right!”

Erin swerved the car onto the side of the road and applied the brakes with more than necessary force. The back of the car fishtailed slightly but she controlled it well and they came to a hasty but safe stop.

“I’ve had it up to here—” She jabbed a hand as high as she could in the car. “—with all these arguments. I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, I have yet to work out how I’m going to live with a debt to a Demon Lord hanging over my head, I had to watch a friend nearly die last night and I haven’t washed my hair in three days! I have a headache and a gun. I will shoot the next person who picks a fight with someone else.” She glared at Matt. “And that includes you and any demons we might cross paths with, okay?”

It wasn’t really a question but everyone answered with hasty nods and mumbles of agreement.

“Good.”

Erin put the car back in gear and calmly pulled back onto the road. The rest of the drive was silent, broken only by Matt’s directions to their destination.

They all got out of the car and stood in front of a normal looking house on a normal looking street. There were kids playing in front yards, cars pulling out of driveways and dogs barking.

“Who lives here?” Nick asked, risking Erin’s wrath.

“Chris and Rufus Davis,” Erin said, not shooting anyone.

“And Asmodeus,” Matt added.

Amaya shivered. “Asmodeus is here?”

“Yup. Remembering anything?”

She shook her head.

“Nick? Care to help out with that?”

Nick looked between them all. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Amaya’s bound to you. It’s her job to give you anything you want. Before, you wanted the last week to have not happened, and now she can’t remember it. All you have to do is want her to remember it.”

“How do I want something that I don’t even understand?”

Amaya turned around. This street. It was familiar.

Cloaking herself in light, she changed into her true form and sprang into the air.

Leaving behind the confused exclamations of Nick and the others, she soared into the sky. It was a warm day, gloriously so, and bright. She found a current of warmer air rising over the black street. It lifted her higher and, resisting the urge to coast along on it in lazy sweeps, she scanned the street below. It was more familiar from this vantage point. She’d flown over it before.

Banking, she searched the surrounding area, felt a faint tug on her spirit and followed it.

She touched down in front of an empty house a couple of streets over. Resuming her human shape, she let the reflecting light go and walked up to the house.

“Who are you?” a voice asked.

A boy sat on the fence of the neighbouring yard. He wore torn jeans and a hoodie so it covered his face in shadows. A smouldering cigarette dangled between the fingers of his right hand.

“My name’s Amaya. Who are you? Do you live here?” She knew he didn’t. No one lived here.

He slipped off the fence, came a bit closer. “Amaya? That’s a… strange name.”

“Strange or not, it is my name. What’s yours?”

“Hey, do you want to see something really cool?” he asked instead of answering. Tossing aside the cigarette, he headed for the house. “It’s in here.”

Amaya hesitated.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing dangerous. The house is empty. Come on, it’s really cool.”

She followed him in, not quite sure why.

He lead her into the family room, a large area bare of any furniture or decoration. The floor was tiled and on them was marked a summoning circle.

“Get in the circle, Amaymon.”

Amaya shook her head, willing her legs not to move even as every bone in her body tried to do as he said.

“Amaymon.” He threw back the hood. “I command you to get into the circle.”

The façade of her human shape faltered. Her wings struggled through and fell heavily from her back.

Her summoner lifted his mutilated left hand and pointed to the circle, his burned face stern. “Get in there.”

Amaya slunk into the circle and crumpled to her knees, the final elements of her disguise disappearing.

He walked around the circle, dropping blood from a cut on his arm onto the six points. Power was wrenched from her spirit and the circle snapped closed.

“What happened to you?” he demanded. “Did you get Hawkins or not?”

Hawkins. Matt. Everything Erin had said about her missing memories was suddenly all there, fresh and bright in her head.

“Answer your master!”

“No. I didn’t get him. He had protection.”

The young man growled. “How hard could it have been? My God,
Amaymon, you’re a demon. He’s just a man—”

“A man with more knowledge than you! Don’t you get it yet? You’re not some mighty demon summoner. You got lucky, that’s all. No, not lucky. You got very unlucky. Do you know who gave you my name? Lucifer. Demon King of Hell. You’re being used. You’re not in charge here. You’re the child who found a gun and thinks it’s a toy. You think you’ve got power when all you’ve got is a complex and a grudge.”