Devil May Ride

by Roberts, Wendy

  “I’m scared?” Maeva chuckled. “You should see your own face. You’re ten shades of pale and your hands are shaking like crazy.”

  “Maeva . . . ,” Sadie whimpered. “Behind you . . .”

  Maeva turned slowly to look in the direction Sadie was pointing to with the beam from her flashlight.

  “What?”

  “Can’t you see her?” Sadie asked, her voice trembling with fear. “It’s Penny Torrez.”

  Penny Torrez’s spirit wore the same blood-soaked blue sundress and the same casually demented facial expression. She was standing, almost floating, in the grassy field and moving slowly toward them.

  Sadie swallowed thickly as the apparition stopped and pinned Sadie with dead eyes.

  “My master told me you’d be back. I thought he was wrong. I told him you were too smart for that.”

  Her voice was a low growl that made the hairs on Sadie’s arms prick up with fear.

  “Are you okay?” Maeva asked Sadie, concern cutting her tone.

  “She’s talking. Can’t you see or hear her?” Sadie asked.

  “Only those of metaphysical talent can actually see me,” Penny said, sounding bored.

  “I see a small swirl of mist or smoke right here,” Maeva said.

  She took a step forward and waved her arm right through the apparition of Penny. Briefly, the ghost’s eyes sparked red as she shot Maeva a look of impatience.

  “Knock it off,” Penny hissed.

  “She—she doesn’t like you doing that,” Sadie shrieked.

  “If my master were here, I’d ask him to get rid of your friends. Then you and I would have ourselves a nice little chat.” She threw back her head and laughed maniacally.

  “Who is your master?” Sadie demanded, fighting to keep her voice calm. “Is it Satan? The devil?”

  “The devil is a figure invented by Christians,” she said, chuckling lightly. “We are so much more than that ridiculous imagery. See? No horns.” She bent her head and took a step closer. Sadie jumped back.

  “Louise, hurry up!” Maeva shouted across the field.

  Penny glanced at Maeva like she was a pesky bug. “Let’s cut to the chase,” Penny said. Her dead eyes felt like they were drilling into Sadie’s. “You. Took. What. Was. His.” Each word was punctuated with the spirit’s finger stabbing the air in Sadie’s direction.

  “The money?” Sadie asked in a small voice.

  “I’m talking about the child!” Penny snarled viciously. “He was mine to give to the Alliance. He was going to be great. You ruined everything!”

  “Oh my God.” Maeva jumped back. “Smoke. Lots of smoke.”

  “That baby was my gift to Witigo. He would’ve been raised in the order. It was a privilege I gave my life for.”

  “But what about Jake?” Sadie asked, taking a step backward. “Didn’t he have any say about your child?”

  She flicked that away with a snap of her wrist.

  “Snake was nothing. Less than nothing. He was only good for his sperm and even that took too many tries for me to count. Good news, I have been told that one newborn can replace another, and one with an inherited power would be even better. With my own son in your arms you talked about your sister’s pregnancy. My master was very pleased to hear about it. A baby born in a family of your power would make him richer still. It’s what he always wanted anyway.”

  Sadie balled her hands into fists as potent fury boiled inside her gut.

  “You and your so-called master stay away from my sister! If you touch Dawn or her baby, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” she challenged.

  A rustle of hurried footsteps sounded behind them.

  “I got the smudge burning,” Louise announced breathlessly from a few feet away.

  Penny raised her hands high above her head and smiled wickedly.

  “You and your little pals thought the smoke from a few herbs was stronger than me? More powerful than Witigo?” She laughed loudly and the sound of it was vile and dark.

  Suddenly the spirit of Penny Torrez was directly in front of Sadie, and she reached and embraced Sadie in a tight hug.

  The pain was excruciating. Sadie felt like her arms were on fire and she could smell the acrid scent of her own burning flesh. In the distance, she could dimly make out her friends’ shouts, but the world around her swirled to black and the ground rushed up to meet her.

  When Sadie came to, Maeva and Louise were screaming for her to get up as Penny Torrez stalked angrily toward them. Maeva seemed to hold her off with sprays of the holy water. Sadie got unsteadily to her feet. She had an idea.

  “Brutus!” she screamed as loudly as she could.

  Penny Torrez inched closer. Maeva’s holy water had slowed but not stopped the spirit. Penny Torrez no longer had fingers, only long flames that snaked out from her palms.

  “Who the hell’s Brutus?” Louise shrieked.

  “She’s delirious,” Maeva responded. “Sadie, we’ve got to get the hell out of here!”

  Just then an angry Rottweiler came charging through the tall grass. Brutus was snarling, his big powerful jaws snapping at the image of Penny Torrez. The spirit of Penny shrank away from the dog before her image began to dissipate. Before she totally dispersed, Penny flung a long drop of liquid blue fire toward Brutus. The dog yelped in pain, then disappeared. Penny’s image vanished too, leaving real flames licking at the tinder-dry field at the spot where she’d stood.

  “We have to hurry!” Maeva shouted.

  The three fled the field for the car.

  Sadie glanced back over her shoulder and was horrified to see flames six feet high devouring the tall grass. By the time they reached Sadie’s car, the entire acreage was engulfed with a blaze that lit the night into day.

  Sadie barely recalled the ride back to Maeva’s home. She was afraid to speak until they were all sitting around Maeva’s kitchen table.

  “I need to call Dawn,” Sadie said, getting to her feet. “I don’t know how to explain what just happened, but she needs to be warned.”

  “Sit down. We need to figure things out first,” Maeva insisted.

  Reluctantly, Sadie sat back down.

  “Maeva’s right,” Terry said, handing Sadie a hot cup of decaf with a shot of some kind of liquor in it. “Try to relax a moment.”

  “My sister’s in danger!” Sadie cried. “How can I relax?”

  “We don’t know that Dawn is in any real danger,” Maeva pointed out. “The dark force that is Penny Torrez spoke with you at that location both times, correct? It’s not like she’s wandering Seattle looking for your sister. We have to be realistic.”

  “An evil ghost fueled a five-alarm blaze after threatening my sister’s unborn baby. I think being afraid is very realistic. Besides, she may not be wandering Seattle, but other Witigo crazies are and they’re very much alive!” Sadie’s hands flew in the air animatedly. “The guy she called her master will be whoever cut open her belly to take her baby.”

  Sadie wrapped her hands around the coffee cup for warmth. Even though it was probably eighty degrees in the kitchen, Sadie felt chilled.

  “Maeva’s right. You’re overreacting,” Louise said, scraping a chair closer to the table.

  “I didn’t say she’s overreacting,” Maeva said. “I doubt when Penny Torrez was alive, she could talk to spirits. So Sadie’s right that it’s a real live person who convinced her to donate the baby to a satanic cult. Besides, you’re just annoyed that your smudging didn’t work,” Maeva stated, smiling a little. “You did your best. Don’t sulk.”

  “I’m not sulking,” Louise said, but she folded her arms like a young child when she said it.

  “You three never should’ve gone there without telling me,” Terry grumbled.

  “I’m sorry,” Maeva said, taking his hand in hers. “I know you have no supernatural powers, but your macho presence would’ve been enough to protect us.”

  “Damn straight.” He lifted her hand and pressed his lips
to her palm.

  They talked in circles for over an hour but were not able to formulate a plan on how to handle the dark force that was Penny Torrez or how to protect Dawn, if protection was needed.

  “I think I need to call it a night,” Louise said.

  Good-byes were said. Ever the good host, Terry walked Louise to the door. When he came back into the kitchen, he paused between Sadie’s chair and Maeva’s.

  “Well, tonight sounded scary. I’m just glad everyone’s okay.”

  Terry patted Sadie and Maeva on the back affectionately. Sadie flinched as though she’d been struck.

  “What’s wrong?” Maeva asked, getting to her feet and coming around the table. “Are you hurt?”

  “My back stings a little,” Sadie said.

  It stung a lot, but she’d been too worried about Dawn to give her physical pain much thought.

  Terry peeled up Sadie’s shirt and sucked in a breath. Maeva muttered a loud curse.

  “What is it?” Sadie asked. She craned her head to see over her shoulder but couldn’t see what they were looking at.

  “Baphomet,” Maeva whispered.

  “Bapho who?” Sadie asked. She got abruptly to her feet and ran out of the kitchen and down the hall, almost stepping on Hairy in the process.

  Maeva and Terry followed her into the main-floor bathroom. Sadie stripped off her T-shirt, beyond caring what Terry could possibly think of seeing her in her plain cotton bra. She turned her back to the large wall mirror and Maeva handed her a hand mirror.

  “What the hell?” Sadie cried.

  Her eyes grew wide at the angry welt on her left shoulder blade. A five-inch diameter circlular shape had bubbled with painful blisters. Sadie squinted as she got a closer look. There was a shape singed into the center of the circle.

  “Is that . . . is that the shape of a goat’s head burnt into my back?” Her jaw dropped.

  “Yes, that’s Baphomet,” Terry said seriously.

  “A goat’s head in an upside-down pentagram,” Maeva explained. “It’s a satanic symbol.”

  “How the hell . . . ?” Sadie searched for words, but none came.

  Maeva looked her in the eye.

  “You’ve been branded. They think they own you.”

  13

  Despite Maeva’s and Terry’s protests Sadie left their house and drove back to Dawn’s. She let herself into the house using her spare key. It took two trips to carry in her overnight bag, Hairy in his carrier, and all his food and his litter box. Sadie checked on Dawn, who looked like a beached whale taking up her whole queen-sized bed. Then Sadie fell into a fitful sleep on the futon in the nursery.

  Sadie was woken by Hairy’s fuzzy butt against her face. He had decided to make himself comfortable and had no trouble hopping onto the low futon bed.

  “Get lost,” Sadie mumbled, pushing the rabbit to the floor.

  She tried to pinch her eyes shut, but it was pointless. She swung her legs out of bed and reached for her cell phone. The glowing display announced that it was five thirty in the morning and she had five missed calls. She checked her voice mail and discovered the first message was from Scott Reed.

  “Hey, Sweets, call me.”

  The next four voice mails were from Zack. One, just checking in. Number two, did she get to Dawn’s house safe, because he’d tried Dawn’s house at eleven and she wasn’t there? Number three was a rambling message about a fire in Kenmore and instructing Sadie to call him back right now. She didn’t listen to his fourth message.

  Sometimes it sucked having an ex-cop as an employee. He had too many connections willing to fill him in on such trivial things as an inferno at a house where she’d helped uncover a couple bodies and one baby with a goat.

  Sadie got to her feet and stretched. Her T-shirt pulled against her shoulder blade and she winced.

  You’ve been branded. They think they own you.

  Maeva’s words rang in her ears. Terry had gently covered the burn with antibiotic ointment and a strip of gauze, but Sadie could tell that the wound had already fused to the bandage. She didn’t want a scar. Especially not one in the shape of a goat head in a pentagram, thank you very much.

  Suddenly the room she was in and Dawn’s entire house felt too confining. She wanted to be home. To set her shambled house to rights again and to try to regain control of her life. But she didn’t want to leave her sister.

  She heard the flush of a toilet down the hall and realized she wasn’t the only one awake. Sadie dug into her overnight bag for clean clothes. Once she was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, she headed down the hall toward the kitchen and the smell of coffee. Hairy caught up with her, his nails click-clacking on the hardwood as he hurried along, probably hoping for some kind of treat.

  She was surprised to find Aunt Lynn at the kitchen table with the newspaper. She looked up and smiled.

  “Coffee’s made,” she said.

  Sadie took a mug from the cupboard and filled it.

  “I didn’t know you were staying here,” Sadie said, grabbing a seat across from her.

  “When I called to chat with your sister last night, she mentioned John was out of town and you had house trouble. I didn’t like the idea of her being home alone so big and pregnant, so I came for the night.”

  “My mother’s driving you crazy, isn’t she?”

  “Just a little,” Aunt Lynn admitted.

  “Sorry to hear about your place getting broken into. That’s terrible. I should count myself lucky that rarely happens in my town.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Dawn said it looked like a hurricane hit your place.”

  A hurricane of assholes, Sadie thought, but she didn’t know exactly what Dawn had told her, so she didn’t offer details.

  “Well, if you’re not busy today, I’m sure Dawn would love to have you keep her company,” Sadie said.

  You can make sure no satanic fiends try and cut her baby from her belly. Sadie’s hands shook a little at the thought.

  “I’ve got work to do, but I’d like to go home first and start the cleanup process,” Sadie said.

  “We could help if you want,” Aunt Lynn offered.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got it under control. I’d much rather have you taking care of Dawn, helping her relax.”

  “Oh, there won’t be much relaxing going on,” she said. “I’m sure Dawn will have me folding baby clothes or out shopping for baby stuff. She’s got the nesting bug big-time.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Sadie finished her mug of coffee and washed it out. Then she fed and watered Hairy before making sure she showed him where she’d placed his litter box.

  Before she left the house, she went to say good-bye to Aunt Lynn.

  “I’ll see you two later. Could you do me a favor and keep Dawn’s alarm activated, even when you’re home?”

  “Well, sure, but you’ll have to show me how. I don’t have one of those darn things myself.”

  Sadie showed her aunt over and over how to activate and deactivate the alarm, and then she wrote out the step-by-step process on a large sheet of paper and pinned it to the wall next to the keypad.

  Twenty minutes later she steered her Honda up her driveway and parked inside her garage. Before she opened the door, she steeled herself for the carnage inside. Her plan was to make a pot of coffee and drink her way through it as she methodically picked up all that had been dumped from drawers and cupboards.

  When she walked into the house, the first thing that hit her was the smell of coffee. She froze where she stood in the mudroom until she gathered the courage to open the door leading to the rest of the house. Definitely coffee smells. Then the sound of a closet opening and Sadie wished her gun was in her hand instead of on the top shelf of her closet.

  “Are you just going to stand there or what?” a male voice called from the kitchen.

  “Zack?” Sadie let out a whoosh of a relieved breath and hurried toward his voice. As she walked into the kitchen, her feeling of relief was followed
quickly by annoyance.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you too,” he grumbled. He took the drawer he’d been filling and slid it effortlessly back into the gaping hole in the counter.

  She looked around and realized the kitchen had already been cleaned. All the cutlery on the floor and the broken dishes had been tidied.

  “Guess you didn’t listen to my message? I said I’d be here to help you clean in the morning.” His hair was mussed, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his chin was in need of a shave.

  “It’s six thirty,” she said drily. “In my world it’s not officially morning yet.” She pointed to her coffeepot. “A couple cups of coffee might help. Oh and I did listen to your other messages. I just must’ve missed that last one.”

  He sat down at her kitchen table and sipped coffee from her “I ♥ Seattle” mug.

  “Thanks for helping out.” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee. When she walked past him, she noted the faint smell of booze. It gave her pause. With her back to him she said, “I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful.”

  “You sure as hell don’t sound grateful,” he drawled. “You sound pissed.”

  “And you sound like you’re hungover.” She sniffed the air. “Or maybe you’re still drunk.”

  “I’m fine, but, yeah, I had a few last night.”

  “And yet here you are at the crack of dawn cleaning up my place. I’d say that’s above and beyond the call of duty.”

  “We’re friends, right?” She heard him get up and walk behind her. “Why wouldn’t I help out a friend if her place gets trashed?”

  He stood only inches away and she turned to face him. “About when you kissed me. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

  He nodded and placed his hands on either side of her on the kitchen counter, pinning her in.

  “So that means I can’t help you out in a crisis? Help you tidy your house after you’ve had a break-in?” he asked, his voice low, and his sexy dark gaze sank into hers.

  She ducked under his arm and grabbed her coffee mug.

  “I got lots on my mind,” she said.

  “Like setting fire to the Kenmore crime scene?”