Dead Demon Walking

by Linda Welch

  Silence built between us as she watched me with an enquiring expression.

  “He didn’t come because he was trapped, I guess until you rescued him. He said he starved, starved but didn’t die. How could that be?”

  “We heal. It is a natural biological function. We do not die easily.”

  Gareth was suddenly between us. “Be careful what you say.”

  From her seat, Gia looked up at him. “Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do,” she said coldly. “Shan told her too much.”

  And he’s not the only one. I had not forgotten what Royal and Gareth said about Dark Cousins just before we took off to hunt Shan.

  “Knowing our Miss Banks, do you doubt she will eventually reach a conclusion, the correct conclusion?” Gia continued. “Now leave us.”

  I saw Gareth’s rage in every line of his body, but he walked from Royal’s bedside and through the infirmary’s swinging doors.

  I swung my gaze back to Gia. “So what? My body does that.”

  Her mouth twitched on one side. She leaned forward. “You know we are not human, yet you persist in seeing us as such in terms of physicality.”

  I started to mirror her posture, but a warning twinge stopped me.

  “We heal at a rate your mind cannot encompass.”

  A memory resurfaced, the shade of young Ernesto as we sat on his stoop and he told me he saw Gia take a bullet in a dark Clarion street. Ernesto thought she died, but she reappeared with Rio Borrego a week later apparently no worse for wear. At the time, I thought her wound must be minor and she passed out from shock, but did she rapidly heal from a life-threatening injury? And Daven, maybe he was in his house when it burned. Though they look human, Dark Cousins are alien. Why presume their bodies operate like ours?

  “Shan’s damaged body healed, but the process sapped him,” Gia went on. “He dragged himself through the chambers beneath Nagka, devouring the small life which dwells there, but never enough. He did indeed starve. Employing each small reserve of strength he built, his body refused to die. When he lost muscle mass and tissue, it rebuilt. When his skin cracked from severe dehydration, it repaired. His organs refused to fail. An endless cycle of renewal and depletion. He slipped into a comatose state for years at a time.”

  Yet they were not invincible. Vance killed some. He had the right idea, destroy their bodies and they can’t repair. But if I believed what Gia said about tissue and organs, apart from obliteration they could heal from just about anything.

  “He merely existed for over a century, no doubt in a great deal of pain. We do feel pain.”

  Yeah, I knew that. I recalled how she backed off when I head-butted her in the face, and again when I tried to pop her eardrums. I hurt her, all right, though that didn’t stop her like it should.

  Stunned does not describe how I felt, not only by what she told me, but that she told me at all. A year ago, she informed me very firmly not to ask about Dark Cousin’s characteristics, yet here she was, telling me in person.

  I watched her blood swim up the transparent tubing, then down to Royal’s wrist. “You told him what happened to Elizabeth as you knew it. You also told him about Hans Stadelmann, the whole story. He knew Elizabeth’s father dug her out alive and she was pregnant. He knew she carried his child. So he tried to find her, as if a century had not passed. He went to Vegas and read Stadelmann’s book, and found Janine Hulme’s book on the shelf next to it. He tracked down Janine, went to her house and found her notes, what Maureen told her. He found Maureen and killed her family. Yet he left her there? When he returned, she was gone, so he tried to find her.

  “Janine’s notes led him that far, so he tracked down Hulmes and looked for written information in everyplace he went. Why not take Maureen after he killed her parents, and why kill everyone he came across instead of plain asking them?”

  She shifted on her chair. “He can be logical one moment and an unreasoning animal the next. He left Maureen because at that moment, his obsession was that he should prepare a suitable place for her. When he returned and did not find her, when he searched for her, he knew only that she was not in those places he went to and nothing there told him where she had gone. The occupants were inconveniences who could identify him, so he destroyed them.”

  “He didn’t stop to think those people he killed could also be his descendants?”

  “Perhaps he would have realized that, perhaps not - he is insane, Miss Banks. We made a grave error in judgment when we ignored Teo-Papek’s warning.”

  “An error in judgment?” I closed my eyes. “Lady, you have a way with understatement.” My eyes popped open. “Jacob knew his father is deranged?”

  “Not to that extent. Do you not wonder why did he not release Shan from his tomb? When we insisted we go to Nagka, he tried to dissuade us. He knew Shan was there, buried alive. He told us only because he knew we would sense Shan’s presence anyway. He said we should leave Shan; he is so old, his mind was already deteriorating, he had taken to stealing the local people, seducing then killing them.”

  Yet he loved Elizabeth. I truly believed that.

  “But we could not rely on Teo-Papek’s word alone. Shan is an Ancient; we could not leave him buried beneath Nagka. There is so much he could tell us. And, at first, after we healed him, he welcomed us.”

  Yeah, I bet. Just one big happy family.

  “He was rational, until he disappeared. We could not find him. We learned of his rampage.” She fixed me with her dark gaze. “You will not believe me, but we regret the loss of life.”

  “Plus, you didn’t want anyone else to catch him. I know the odds are long, but it could have happened. We generally put our mentally deranged criminals through a battery of physical and psychological tests and I bet the results for Shan would be odd. We humans might wonder exactly what we had on our hands.”

  “Yes. We could not let that happen, could we, Miss Banks.”

  “He was still in Nebraska when Royal and I went there. He recognized Royal as Gelpha. He followed us to Vegas, then here.”

  She cocked her head on one side. “Royal? You think he followed you because Royal is Gelpha?”

  “And because we were looking into the murders.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Why did I get the feeling she knew something I didn’t? Again. But that wasn’t surprising. She knew one hell of a lot I did not.

  “What will happen to Shan?”

  For a moment I saw genuine grief on her face, there and gone in a second. “He will not harm another person.”

  “You’ll - ”

  “Just take my word the carnage is over.” Gia pulled the IV line from the catheter. She waved the end at me. “What about you, Miss Banks?”

  She offered to give me her blood? God no! The suggestion made me sick to my stomach. My lip curled. “I don’t want your blood in my veins.”

  She raised her eyes to the ceiling as her laughter pealed. She dropped her chin, the laugh cut off abruptly, her gaze pinned me. “You know so little.”

  What did that mean?

  “What is that - ?” I began, but she disappeared in a swirl of air.

  Blink. Gareth stood before me. “Now, let us see to you.”

  “Royal?”

  He offered his hand. “He will recover.”

  I ignored his hand.”How long?” I struggled out the chair, stopped to draw breath, then determinedly walked to the head of the bed.

  “In his body’s own good time,” Gareth said.

  The IV now dripped a clear fluid. I laid my palm on Royal’s cheek; it felt warm, but lacked the intensity of his demon heat. I stroked his silken copper-gold hair and my hand began to tremble. I never imagined seeing him like this. So strong, and fast, and intelligent; nothing could hurt Royal. I swallowed the lump stuck in my throat.

  “Enough!” Gareth led me from the bed to the chair and sat me down.

  Blink.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I passed out the first time I saw
a shade. I knew I’d done it again the moment I woke flat on my back. I knew where I was. You can’t mistake the feel of hospital issue plastic beneath your sheet.

  Of the many things which embarrass me, fainting is right up there. There’s the lack of physical control. Suddenly, you’re a wimp. The sense of helplessness, not knowing what you or anyone else did while you were unconscious. A hundred and one things you’ll never know about could have happened; a part of your life is gone and you will never get it back. Worse, you are wholly reliant on others.

  I didn’t dwell on any of that. As my gummy eyelids pried themselves apart, I said, “Royal?”

  “Yeah, where is the sonofabitch?” Mike Warren asked cheerfully. “I’ve had both his numbers on speed dial for the past four hours.”

  “Shame about your car, Banks,” said Detective Brad Spacer.

  The lights were set on low, which didn’t help my cloudy vision. Seconds passed until everything came into focus.

  Mike smiled sheepishly as he stood at the foot of my bed with a wilting bunch of pink and white chrysanthemums in one hand. I felt sorry for those flowers. He looked good, his brown suit jacket perfectly hugging his wide shoulders and thick chest. He’d lost a little weight.

  Brad Spacer wore off-duty black Levi’s and waffle-weave long-sleeved T-shirt in different shades of brown. He lounged against the wall, running a comb through his short salt and pepper hair. Gareth sat on a chair near the door, casual in faded blue-jeans and a pale-blue sweater.

  I was torn between smiling because Mike and Brad came to see me, and asking Mike if he thought I actually like dying flowers.

  Concentrate, Tiff. I ran my tongue over my lips and tried to work up saliva in my mouth. My voice came out hoarse. “Royal’s hunting grouse up in the Uintas. What about my car?”

  Mike hunched one big shoulder. “Totaled, I’m afraid.”

  My car is totaled? My Subaru? What the heck?

  Gareth made a face at me, obviously trying to send me a message with his eyebrows. I repeat, what the heck?

  “I don’t understand, Mike. What’s wrong with my car?” I think my eyes got a little wild.

  “You don’t remember? Not uncommon after an auto accident. Did they check you for concussion?”

  “I don’t know!”

  I’ve been in an emergency care cubicle, but this was my first time in a hospital room. I wore a white gown with a tiny blue flower print and by the feel, nothing beneath. The sheet between me and the plastic mattress protector was thin as the one covering me to my shoulders, but I felt toasty warm. I tried to get my arms clear, and yelped. “Ouch!”

  I stared in dismay at an IV in the back of my right hand.

  Mike followed my gaze. “Just fluids, Tiff. “

  “How long have I been here?”

  “They brought you in last night at eleven.” Mike checked his wristwatch. “It’s eight, Tuesday morning. You’ll be home tonight.”

  I licked my lips again. “I don’t remember anything. Fill me in.”

  “Two students heading back to campus saw your car concertinaed between two trees on Valley Drive above the canal. From the tire marks, you swerved off the road.”

  “Valley?” I tried to get my thoughts in some semblance of order. “A moose, maybe? Or some drunken asshole ran me off?”

  “I have a team up there, but I doubt we’ll find anything. Valley gets a lot of traffic.”

  I perused the small room. A blank-screened television sat on a shelf high on the facing wall above a waist-high wood bureau. A tall wardrobe fastened to the wall, two plastic chairs, a metal trolley, a bedside tray and a wastebasket left little free space for visitors. There were two doors, one an exit and the other presumably to a bathroom.

  Mike came over to lay the flowers on my sheet. “So Royal’s in a no-service zone. We could send a copter up there.”

  “No, don’t bother. You’ll rile a lot of hunters and he’ll be back soon anyway.”

  “And pissed as hell at you, me and the entire State of Utah when he finds you like this.”

  I dredged up a smile. “Aw, you can take it, Mike.”

  “How you feeling?” Brad thought to ask.

  “What do you think?” I snarled back.

  Mike grinned at Brad. “Sounds like her old chipper self to me. I think we can get back to the precinct.”

  I had a thought. “Mac!”

  “I spoke to Mrs. Crebs,” Gareth said. “She promised to look after your dog.”

  I sighed in relief, and winced. These ribs were going to give me hell for weeks.

  “You’ve met Gareth?” I said to Mike, wondering how Gareth introduced himself. As a friend, a client, the guy who pulled me from my wrecked car?

  He nodded. “We introduced ourselves.”

  Mike and Brad stood there looking out of place a minute more, then left me alone with Gareth.

  “Hey! Thanks for coming,” I remembered to say as they walked out the door.

  I felt a warm sensation under my breastbone. Mike and Spacer came to see me. Aw.

  I gave Gareth slitty snake eyes. “What is this about my car?”

  I shifted one leg and the flowers fell off the bed. He bent over his knees to pick them up and waved them at me.

  “Bin,” I told him.

  “As you refused the Cousin’s help, we had to bring you here for treatment. We, and you, needed an explanation for your injuries,” he said as he tossed the drooping chrysanthemums in the wastebasket.

  With some painful wheezing I managed to free my arms so I could use a hand for emphasis. “You smashed my car? You couldn’t concoct an explanation for my injuries which didn’t involve destroying my transportation? Did it occur to you I could have tripped and bashed my ribs on a rock or something?”

  I tried to hoist higher. Fuck!

  Gareth jumped up to press me down again. “Keep that up and the nurse will come.”

  My readings made frenzied blips on the monitor. I made my body relax. I said nothing more till the nurse I expected came in to check on me.

  “There is no point in arguing. What is done is done,” Gareth said sagely after the nurse left.

  I peered into the room. “Where are my clothes?”

  He rose and opened the wardrobe. A pair of old black jeans and a yellow sweater hung on hangers. Scuffed brown tennis shoes sat on the floor. What could be a small pile of underwear and socks perched on the shoes. I didn’t recognize any of it.

  “Those aren’t mine! Where are the things I wore?”

  He closed the door. “If you recall, your clothes were beyond the help of a washer and dryer. We destroyed them. We also bathed you before bringing you here. The blood on your skin and attire would trigger questions you would not want to answer.”

  “But - ” I started to splutter. So they stripped and washed me and put me in some clothes which no doubt looked like I wore them when I crashed. Good grief! How many demons had their hands on my body and saw me naked?

  I felt my face redden and decided this was a “don’t ask don’t tell” situation. I would rather not know. It would be too embarrassing.

  I pushed the sheet down.”I’m discharging myself.” I tentatively felt the IV in my hand. “Help me out of this. I have to get back to Royal.”

  “Royal is in good hands. You must remain here.”

  I snarled under my breath, kicked at the sheet over my knees. “I’m going to Bel-Athaer. Just you try and stop me.”

  “I don’t have to, Miss Banks. Bel-Athaer will not open to you.”

  I shot ice at him with my eyes. I should have kept the flowers. I could have shoved them up his nostrils and suffocated the bastard.

  ***

  Surrounded by strong muscles, ribs are pretty hard to break. I had two with incomplete fractures and one nondisplaced fracture, meaning it broke all the way through but stayed in place, so did not puncture anything vital. Lucky me.

  The most common complications of broken ribs are caused by not breathing deeply. If yo
u don’t breathe deeply, mucous and moisture can build up in your lungs and lead to infection. So you have to make yourself breathe, and it hurts. I lapped up the pain-killers.

  Mel and Jack were glad to see me when I whimpered myself inside the house. They demonstrated their depth of feeling by yelling in their whispering voices.

  “What happened to you, Tiff?” I muttered as I went to my old pink refrigerator for a diet soda. “We were worried sick about you. So glad to see you back.”

  “How dare you take off without a word!” Jack screeched.

  “You have absolutely no consideration for anyone apart from yourself and that damn dog!” Mel added.

  “Why are you walking funny, Tiff?” I mumbled on. “Are you hurt? Oh, you poor thing.”

  I turned from the fridge to find Jack’s finger in my face. “Move that, deadboy, or I’ll break it,” I warned inanely.

  “You will? Added beating up dead people to your resume, have you?”

  “As if,” Mel snorted.

  I headed for the table, slowly.

  “Why are you hunched over?” Mel asked.

  I got vertical, taking deep breaths like the good doctor told me to.

  Jack actually sounded concerned. “Are you hurt?”

  “Nah. What’s a few cracked ribs between friends?”

  They zoomed to the other side of the table, so close they could be joined hip to hip. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Mel moaned.

  “Maybe I would have if you’d let me get a word in.”

  I heard scratching sounds at the backdoor. Mac? Outside? I bet Wanda let him out and he refused to come back in, and she had to leave. She’d be back later. I should call her, let her know I was home.

  I got up, went to the backdoor and opened it. Mac glared up at me.

  I glared back. “Well, come in, you little horror, and stop looking at me like that. Not my fault you ignored Wanda.” Leaving the door open, I turned my back on him and returned to the chair. I closed my eyes as I sank down.

  Two weighty objects came to rest on my knees.