Personal Demons

by Phoebe Ravencraft

  Hope lit Felicia’s face. Holy shit. There was a chance to find Sassy after all. Wherever she had gone, Sassy had to sleep. And if she dreamed, then maybe …

  “So how are you going to find him?” she asked.

  “I detected dream magic occurring over the last few days,” Ash said. “It caught my eye, because it’s a very rare ability. And it was happening on an Amtrak train heading from Cincinnati to Chicago. When I expanded my search, I found the same pattern on a westbound train from Chicago.

  “I think Sassy is taking the train to California, Felicia. I don’t know why. My guess is, she is trying to get as far away from here as she can without being detected. You can get on a train with no ID, and you can buy a ticket with cash.”

  Felicia studied the tabletop and nodded.

  “That would be just like her,” she said. “She used to talk about disappearing. It was fantasy talk, you know? She’d say things like, ‘Wouldn’t it be great if we could just get away? Go somewhere no one could find us?’ I never thought she had an actual plan, though.”

  “She’s a smart woman, Felicia,” Ash said. “And she would know that if The Order or Ephraim were looking for her, it would be even more difficult to stay hidden. So she would be trying to travel as untraceably as possible.”

  “But how could she manage that, Ash? She didn’t have any money. She spent a portion of The Order’s down payment on clothes and bills, and then she gave the rest to me. She couldn’t get very far.”

  Ash dropped his eyes to the table. Guilt raced across his face. Oh, no.

  “What?” Felicia said. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  He swallowed hard and met her gaze.

  “The day after she killed Dulac, I went to see her,” he confessed. “I told her that Ephraim had disappeared. I figured she should know he was out there and would be looking for her.

  “And I paid her the rest of her bounty.”

  “What?” Felicia whispered, covering word in cold fury.

  “I figured we owed her,” he said. “She’d nearly been killed, put you at incredible risk, and all because Ephraim wanted revenge on her. It had all been a trap, and I’d let it happen.

  “So I paid her the balance on her account. I gave her twenty-five thousand dollars, Felicia. Cash.”

  God damn him. That moron had given Sassy everything she’d needed to make a colossally stupid decision. He’d practically walked her down to the station and bought her the ticket himself.

  “Well, that’s great, Ash,” Felicia said, shaking her head. “She’s got plenty of money to disappear. She’s got it in cash, so she can spend it without it being traceable. She’s got the means to become completely invisible and never be found!”

  “But ça could not have known li pére was haunting li mind,” Aurelia said. “Ça would not realize li pére presence in li dreams was not de product of li own subconscious toughts.”

  “Exactly,” Ash said, pleading with his eyes for Felicia to have some faith in him. “Because he’s dead, Aurelia can locate Eli. And because he is haunting Sassy’s mind instead of a place, he’ll go where she goes.”

  “So if mo find le pére,” Aurelia said, “mo find de child.”

  “Jesus,” Felicia said.

  She stewed silently for several seconds. Then she sighed.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let me run back to my apartment and pack a bag. I just need a couple outfits and my toiletries. Then I’ll text Ron and tell him I need time off for a family emergency.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Ash said, waving his hands and looking panicked. “You’re not coming.”

  “What!”

  “Felicia, it’s too dangerous,” he said.

  “Fuck dangerous!” she replied.

  She was no fighter – that was Sassy’s specialty. If Felicia were to punch someone, she’d be just as likely to break her hand as injure the target. But she was fully prepared to belt Ash in the mouth if he tried to stop her from going with him.

  “Felicia, Sassy specifically left town to protect you,” Ash said. “She doesn’t want you to find her. She told you not to. If we can track her, it’s entirely possible Ephraim or anyone else can. She will not want you at risk.”

  Her mind went black before turning red. Who the hell did this sanctimonious, condescending sex-demon think he was?

  She hit him with her iciest stare. Her eyes sliced into his soul, her jaw clenched tight enough to crush his thoughts.

  “Have you ever been in love, Ash?” she said.

  He struggled to meet her gaze. His eyes misted over. His lip quivered.

  God damn it. He was every bit as in love with Sassy as Felicia had suspected.

  “Yes,” he said at last. “Yes, I’ve been in love.”

  She leaned forward and set her jaw in an angry scowl. She was determined he would not mistake her intentions.

  “Then you know exactly why I’m coming,” she said. “I’m in love with her and she is with me. I am not going to sit on my ass in Cincinnati waiting for you to bring her home. I’m going after her. I’m coming with you. Do you understand?”

  He had to swallow three times before he could answer her. She refused to even blink until he did.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I understand.”

  “All right then,” she said. “Let’s go. I want to be on the road in an hour or less.”

  Ash nodded. He rose.

  “She’s mine, Ash,” Felicia said as she stood. “I’m not giving her up without a fight.”

  He nodded and averted his eyes. She waited to make sure he was sufficiently cowed.

  “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  Nine

  Devlin and I walked towards town as the sun set the horizon ablaze. With no buildings in the way, you could see halfway to the end of the Earth out here, and the sun was this red semi-circle sitting on the edge of the ground. Around it, the sky had turned orange and pink. I’ll say this for Iowa: We don’t get sunsets like that in the city.

  We hadn’t gone far when we found a vehicle. Some farmer dude had a white Ford F150 sitting on his front lawn right in front of the road. The sign in the windshield read, “4 Sale: $2500”.

  “That’ll do,” I said.

  We went up the long, gravel drive. It terminated at a farmhouse with faded and peeling white paint. It looked like it was at least eighty years old and hadn’t been maintained at all in that time. A storm door with a torn screen stood outside an interior door that had clearly once been red but had faded into a sickly shade of pink. A kiddie-sized Jeep sat decomposing in the yard, and a frayed, plastic, drop cloth covered a flowerbed and was held down by crumbling bricks. Whoever lived here was just getting by.

  I opened the storm door and knocked. I let it fall back shut. Then we waited.

  Several seconds later, the interior door opened. A big, well-muscled man with a goatee and at least three days’ growth on his cheeks gazed out on us with suspicion in his eyes. I could hardly blame him. Between my leather jacket and pants, Devlin’s trench coat and long hair, and both of us carrying weapons like we were refuges from a comic book convention, we might as well have screamed, “We’re not from around here!” at him.

  “Can I help you?” he said, his voice suggesting we needed to move along.

  “Is that your truck for sale?” I asked.

  Farmer Dude crossed his red-plaid-shirted arms over his black, fleece vest. He stared at us from under the brim of a black ball cap with the Cat logo on it.

  “Yeah,” he said. “What of it?”

  “We’d like to buy it,” I replied, trying to sound friendly.

  He put a hand to his chin and rubbed his beard for several seconds. His brown eyes shifted back and forth from me to Devlin.

  “You got cash?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, trying to butter him up with an unearned honorific.

  He stared at me for a couple more seconds.

  “Let’s see it,” he said at last.

/>   I’d anticipated this. I’d counted out three thousand dollars and put it in my coat pocket before we went up to the door. I didn’t want him to see me digging through the large stash in my backpack. He might decide he wanted to steal it, or he might think I was some sort of drug dealer and called the cops on us. Here in the middle of rural America, I was keenly aware that my skin was darker than his.

  I pulled the money out of my pocket and counted out twenty-five hundred bucks. He watched, his eyes glinting dangerously. Shit. Please tell me this asshole did not think he was gonna go all Redneck Warrior on me.

  “Wait here,” he said. “I’ll get the key and the title.”

  “Sure thing,” I said, trying not to sound scared.

  He went inside, leaving the main door open. I breathed deeply and tried not to worry.

  “Is anything wrong?” Devlin said.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I hope not.”

  I could think of a hundred things that might be wrong, starting with the fact that a Black girl he didn’t know showed up on Farmer Dude’s doorstep with a samurai sword on her back and flashing a lot of cash around. Was he afraid of me? He’d said he’d done to get the key and title. Maybe he was getting his gun instead?

  I tapped my foot and tried not to believe this guy hadn’t assumed I was a gang banger he needed to off. Maybe he thought he was a Good Guy with a Gun, and I was a crime about to happen. Damn it. I should have put the sword back in the guitar case. What was I thinking?

  After what seemed like enough time to call the cops and fetch his AR-15, Farmer Dude returned with a key and a piece of paper. He came outside and walked towards the truck wordlessly. Unsure what else to do, I followed him back down the drive.

  “The remote lock is broken,” he said, as I got close. “You’ll have to unlock it the old-fashioned way.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Farmer Dude slipped the key into the door and turned. The button inside popped up, and he opened the truck. It smelled vaguely of cigarettes and scorched engine oil.

  “It burns oil, so make sure you check your levels every time you fuel up,” he continued. “It’s been sitting out here for three months without moving, so you’ll want to stop at the QuikTrip and put some air in the tires. I don’t know how far you’re going, but there’s only about a quarter tank of gas in it, which won’t you get you that far. It’s got a V8 engine, so it has plenty of power, but it gets shit for gas mileage. Might want to tank up while you’re at the QuikTrip.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and signed the title over. I took it and signed as well. He glanced over my shoulder.

  “Sarah Connor, huh?” he said. “Like in The Terminator?”

  “You know it,” I said with a grin.

  I passed him the cash, and he handed me the key. Then he offered his hand. I shook it.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Sarah.”

  “You too . . .”

  “Curt.”

  “Nice meeting you, Curt.” I passed Devlin the key. “Here, you drive.”

  “Thank you,” Devlin said to Curt.

  “You’re welcome. Take care of her.”

  Devlin snorted.

  “She hardly needs me to do that,” he said.

  Curt grinned broadly. He looked me up and down.

  “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he said. “Watch out for terminators, Sarah.”

  “If I see Arnold Schwarzenegger, we’re running like hell in the other direction,” I said.

  I pushed the button on the door handle to unlock the passenger-side door. Then I walked around the front to get in. I could feel Curt’s eyes on me as I went. The leather pants I wore did great things for my ass. Based on the weight of his stare, Curt liked the view.

  Pulling the door open, I climbed up into the cab. I felt kinda stupid for mistaking this guy’s laconic manner for racism or hillbilly danger. He was cool enough. I shouldn’t have been so suspicious. I pulled the door shut, feeling chagrined.

  Devlin got in and turned the key. The engine complained.

  “It’s fuel-injected, but you may need to give it a little gas,” Curt offered. “Like I said, it’s been sitting there awhile.”

  Devlin turned the key again and gunned the accelerator. The truck coughed twice, wheezed once, then roared to life. It sounded like a tired dragon.

  “That should do you,” Curt said. “Once you get her going, she’ll warm up nicely.”

  He shut Devlin’s door.

  “Don’t forget to put air in the tires,” he said.

  Devlin nodded at him. Then he stared at the controls.

  “Where’s the stick shift?” he asked.

  “It’s an automatic,” I said. “It doesn’t have one. There should be a shifter or something. Put it in ‘D’ and let’s go.”

  Devlin grabbed the lever on the steering column. He played with it until it moved downward. A second later, we were rolling forward. Devlin looked confused.

  “I can’t find the clutch,” he said.

  “I don’t know what that is,” I said. “But it’s an automatic. You step on the gas to go faster and the brake to stop. That’s all I know.”

  He nodded as if he understood. A few seconds later, he managed to get the big beast under control, and we pulled onto the road. With a turn of the steering wheel he pointed us towards town.

  We were headed west again.

  Ten

  We drove northwest for about an hour and a half on twisting, country highways until we reached the Interstate. Minutes later, we hit Des Moines.

  My snarky brain couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was because I’d grown up in Cincinnati, had left Chicago this afternoon, and was on my way to Denver, but I just couldn’t take Des Moines seriously as a city. I don’t know what else you would call it. It’s obviously too big to be a town, but to me, cities have skylines and big businesses. As far as I could tell, Des Moines was pretty much a large population center but not actually a city.

  Call me a snob, if you want. I’m sure people in New York and LA look at Cincinnati and laugh. But it was just weird to me. This was more like a giant suburb than a city.

  On the other hand, for the first time since we’d left the Chicago metro, there were a lot of people around. That comforted me in unexpected ways. I’d never thought of myself as afraid of or condescending towards the country. But if my prejudices while buying the truck told me anything, it was that I had certain preconceived notions about what rural people and life were like, and they weren’t good. Here I was expecting Curt to hate on me because I was a Black girl in leather pants, but I was disrespecting him for being White and owning a farm. Clearly, I had a lot of learning to do about getting along with people. I spose that goes for all of us.

  That said, being in an urban center, such as it was, made me feel safer. The life I understood – surrounded by lots of people, late-night food, coffee shops, public transportation – was here.

  I yawned, and my stomach growled. I checked the clock on the dash. It was nearly eight PM.

  “We should stop and get some food,” I said.

  “As you wish,” Devlin replied.

  “In fact, maybe we should stop for the night. I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too. We’re more likely to find a hotel here than the middle of nowhere.”

  “That seems wise,” he said.

  We pulled off the road near Ankeny. There was a QuikTrip off the highway, where we could resupply, and a couple hotels nearby. After I got us checked in, we found an Applebee’s. I ordered a cheeseburger and a beer. I knew I shouldn’t be drinking, since we could be attacked at any time. But I needed to relax, and booze sounded like a good way to do it.

  Devlin got a steak and baked potato. But despite being three-hundred-seventy-some years old, he refused to order any alcohol. The man’s Puritan habits hadn’t died after three centuries of change.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Where did you get all this money?
You’ve bought us train tickets, a vehicle, several meals, and now a hotel room. For someone on the run, you’re well-funded.”

  I took a long draught of my beer, and then hit him with a tight smile.

  “I was paid very well to kill that vampire,” I said. “When I skipped town, I took my reward with me.”

  He nodded and cut into his steak.

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “So you’re a bounty hunter.”

  “I ain’t no fuckin’ bounty hunter,” I snapped. “I have an ability. Someone wanted to take advantage of it. I negotiated a fee and did the job. I didn’t charge enough. If I’d known what was involved, I might not have done it all.”

  My mood blackened at the thought of how Ephraim had tricked me into working for him, how the whole thing had been designed for him to kill me. Big Brother Asshole was a true dick.

  “Besides,” I said. “The whole thing was a setup.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they didn’t actually want me to kill the vampire. He was supposed to kill me.”

  Devlin cocked his head. His blue eyes blazed with curiosity.

  “Why would they do that?” he asked.

  “This guy who sent the demons after me? He hates me a lot. Like I told you back at the train station: He’ll do anything to kill me. Including pretend to hire me to kill an out-of-control vampire, when he really means for me to become the undead bastard’s lunch.”

  “But then how did you get the money, if this was a setup?”

  “Because I did the job, and someone else felt like paying me for it. Look, let it drop, Devlin. I don’t like talking about it. I don’t like thinking about it. It makes me mad.”

  I drained the last of my beer. Our server must have been hovering, because she immediately swooped in and offered to bring me another.

  “That’d be great,” I heard myself say before the rest of my brain could object.

  “I’m sorry,” Devlin said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I waved his apology away. I knew he hadn’t meant anything by it. I was just still pissed off, you know? I was sitting in an Applebee’s in Des Moines with a guy I barely knew instead of curled up with Felicia at my place in Cincinnati. And it was all Ephraim’s fault.