Night of Demons - 02 (38 page)

Forget everything that had happened to her in the past few days? The more Lauren tried to get her head around that concept, then the more it seemed ridiculous. She’d never been in such incredible peril. Never seen such startling, nightmarish events, or been so terrified in her whole life. She could no more lose those memories than replace her own head.

Still, she had come through it. That was a huge relief, and quite surprised her. But it was behind her now, just like the town was, physically. She’d gone past the final intersection a couple of minutes back.

It was turning out to be a very bright and pleasant morning, one of those last gasps of summer that were commonplace in this part of the world. No other cars were on this road. The sun shone through the foliage. Her window was still partly down, and she could smell the leafy odors.

A grackle sprang up from the road in front of her and soared away, a flapping dart of black and sapphire blue, rapidly diminishing against the sky. And was that some kind of good omen? Frankly, it didn’t really seem to matter. Getting out in one piece was enough good luck for an entire lifetime.

She glanced in her rearview mirror. Raine’s Landing had become merely a narrow strip of rooftops, glimpsed between a gap in the trees.

Forget it? Hardly likely. She’d recall it until her dying day. The only genuine problem was…would she ever dare tell anyone else about it?

She went around a bend in the road. And when she glanced up at the mirror again, the town was completely lost from sight.

It started fading from her thoughts immediately. She could no longer remember what the place looked like. There’d been a square, and a big hill near the center, hadn’t there? Or maybe not.

She’d had some difficulties there. She remained pretty sure of that. But of what nature…? Strange, unworldly figures flashed before her inner eye for half a second, then were swiftly gone. And just as well, since things like that did not—could not—exist.

Other faces started to appear. A black man. A short guy in spectacles. An attractive redhead, and a huge, bald cop. They hung in her memory for the briefest instant, and then faded too.

Who exactly had they been?

What was the place where she had met them even called?

Met who? she wondered finally.

One last face was hanging in her mind’s eye, longer than the others had. A man’s face, somewhat gaunt but handsome, blond hair thinning slightly at the front. Steel gray eyes peered at her. And there was concern in them.

His lips moved.

“Not welcome here? That’s not in the least bit true.”

Lauren pulled over abruptly to the ditch at the side of the road.

Who was that? She glanced back across her shoulder, but could see only the trees. But she had some kind of connection with this guy, a bond. She was positive of that. And she struggled to recall his name.

It came to her. She breathed out a soft syllable.

“Ross.”

Yes, that was it.
Ross Devries.
And suddenly, the rest of it came flooding back. She remembered every moment, every footstep, every street. The whole of it. Raine’s Landing.

In a lot of ways, it was an awful place. But there was an upside. In her few days there, she’d found herself among some of the hardiest, most resilient, bravest people she had ever known. And was that because they had no choice in the matter?

No, Lauren thought. You can fight, or you can fold. Everyone has that choice.

She’d started to perspire faintly, but was surprising herself now, thinking of the townspeople with fondness. Saul? Would he recover? And would Ross ever get his family back?

God knew, they had problems. But they’d protected her when they were able, in the time that she’d been there. And, once they’d gotten used to her, they’d treated her with kindness.

Raine’s Landing. Lord, what a place. And—who knew?—some day she might even come back. Just to see how everyone was getting along.

That old saying was true, wasn’t it? That which didn’t kill you really did make you stronger.

A pensive smile flitted across her lips, then spread up to her eyes. Lauren put the car back into drive, and headed for the freeway.

On the way back home, I stopped and bought some cigarettes. I’d given up the habit a while back, but to hell with it. Just one more pack, then I’d be done. My thoughts were in a total blur.

I had to stop again for a row of flatbed trucks, at the intersection just before my street. They were local, rather than from out of town. And they were loaded up with cinderblocks, shingles, scaffolding, and lumber. Reconstruction was already underway, all over the Landing.

A soft, warm breeze was blowing in from the west when I finally got home. This might turn out to be one of the last genuinely hot days before the fall set in. There was hammering and the loud noise of a drill a couple of blocks away. Maybe they were rebuilding Evan Cope’s house, which I knew had been partway flattened.

A few doors down from my place, some kids were playing on the sidewalk with a Frisbee. And somebody’s old lawn mower was setting up a whirring chatter on the gently moving air.

I sat down on the edge of my front porch and lit a smoke. But it didn’t go exactly as I’d planned. I wheezed fiercely after the first pull, and my eyes began to water. So I threw it down and stamped on it, then tossed the pack away.

“You okay, mister?” came a small high voice.

The kids had stopped playing and were watching me. But I wasn’t sure how to answer them. So I simply got up and went inside, their inquiring gazes still following me.

They were gone when I emerged again. It was late afternoon. What had I been doing all day? I wasn’t even sure myself. Just hanging around. Thinking. And sometimes trying not to.

The memories came back to me, replaying for the thousandth time. All of those occasions Cass and I had fought against the worst effects of magic, shoulder to shoulder, side by side. The times that I had saved her skin, and the numerous times that she’d saved mine.

On the rooftop of my office building, not so very long ago, the thing called Saruak had lunged at me, trying to spear me through the gut. And Cass had aimed her shotgun and then stopped him in his tracks.

Her words, once she’d done that, kept repeating through my head.

“It’s what I do. I watch your back.”

And who was left to do that now?

More time passed, largely unnoticed. The light faded around me, and the west horizon turned progressively redder. Some denser clouds had started blowing in. We would be heading into winter before we even knew it. My mind was merely wandering, picking up on any vagrant thought.

Then the cell phone went off in my pocket. My heart leapt, and I fumbled to answer it.

“Cassie?”

“Huh?”

It was Vallencourt. He sounded harassed, and there was shouting in the background.

“I’m in West Meadow, Devries, on Parson’s Avenue,” he told me. “And I’ve got this situation here. Wondered if you might be able to help out?”

I listened to the problem, told him I was on my way, then headed for my car. But climbing into it, I glanced behind me. Purely out of instinct.

It felt unfamiliar—and pretty damned unsettling—setting off into possible danger with nobody to watch my back.

But it sounded like they needed me out there. So I went anyway.

Cover art by Don Sipley