“Why is it that everyone’s always calling me a nut? I’m so disappointed with the impression I’ve given you all. I prefer evil genius, thank you kindly, and what a drag you all showed up. It’s my anniversary, for goodness’ sake. Don’t any of you have a romantic bone? I can’t properly celebrate with my mate if you’re all here, now can I? Or do you girls swing that way?”
Each of them stood rooted in place, but Casey felt the tense tug of both Nina’s and Wanda’s hands, keeping her close. They could all apparently see Hildegard. Casey’s eyes just didn’t have that ability—not yet anyway.
Until a snap of Hildegard’s fingers switched on the lights, that is.
Hildegard, dressed in jeans and a boob- hugging sweater, held Archibald by the scruff of his neck. He dangled like a rag doll, but his eyes, though they should have been frantic, sought hers with warm reassurance—one Casey didn’t understand, and promptly dismissed. Nothing was going to be all right. Everyone would die because of her.
“Put him the fuck down, you ozone suck,” Nina ordered. “Or I’ll snatch every hair off your blindingly blond head with my teeth while I smash your face in.” Nina bared her fangs with a hiss, balling a threatening fist.
Hildegard strolled toward Nina, each step a sway of confident hips. Archibald wafted to and fro, but his eyes stayed on Casey, riveted. “You are the most vile-mouthed creature. Uneducated, uncultured. I would have expected Casey to have more worldly friends—as boring as she is.”
Boring this, you pissy bitch. Yet, Casey refrained from screaming her panicked wish. Maybe this could be solved calmly—so no one would get hurt. The struggle to keep her temper in check was on. “Put him down, Hildegard. Please. He has nothing to do with this.”
Her eyes flashed to Casey while her free hand created a ball of fire she played with between her fingers much like magicians do with quarters. “Now why would I do that, darling? We were supposed to have a deal. Imagine my surprise when I showed up and found all of you. I have a sinking feeling you all aren’t here with cake and champagne. Pity, too. I so love cake.”
“Where are the damn men?” Wanda muttered under her breath, looking in Nina’s direction.
“Who gives a shit?” Nina muttered back. “We can take her. She’s just one floozy demon.”
Marty sighed, her eyes looking beyond Hildegard’s shoulder. “Weeeelll, not so much. And damn it all. I just know I’m going to lose a perfectly good pair of shoes in this. These are one of a kind. I can’t believe I didn’t think to change them before we rushed out the door to demon bang.”
Each pair of eyes assessed the situation.
Oh.
Wow.
Casey tried to remember if there was something in her catechism class that expressed what she was seeing. A word that meant a lot and was associated with demons.
Legions.
Yeah, that was it.
A legion of demons.
That described it.
To. A. Tee.
“Look, Wanda. The Jolly Green Blonde brought friends,” Nina crowed, her sarcasm echoing around them.
Casey looked at Nina and whisper- yelled out of the side of her mouth, “Yeah, she brought friends. And she has way more friends than we do. Jesus! Aren’t you afraid of anything? They’ll mutilate us. Don’t provoke her.” Swarms of demons in every scaly shape and size flocked toward Hildegard’s side. Oh, this was bad. Where the hell was everyone? More important, where was Clay? He was the one they had to keep Hildegard from getting to. They’d never be able to take on so many—it was like four against four million as far as Casey was concerned.
Hildegard draped Archibald over her shoulder like a coat, and he offered no resistance whatsoever. “So who’s going to be the first to apologize for ruining what was to be a lovely evening with my mate?” Her eyebrow cocked and her toe tapped with impatience.
“Fuck you,” Nina seethed.
“Is it me, or do you feel a little outnumbered, Nina?” Hildegard drawled, looking around her at the forces she’d gathered. Forces comprised of hissing, horned, slimy demons, all just waiting to do Hildegard’s bidding. They climbed the pizzeria’s walls, breathing as one mass, the low thrum of their hatred vibrating in every corner. Webbed fingers clung to the ceiling above them, their bodies pulsing, waiting.
That flaming fireball Hildegard had been holding turned into a bolt of lightning she hurled at Nina’s feet, cracking the ground open and leaving a sizzling line of charred pavement, making Nina jump back. Casey fought a scream as a demon latched onto Nina’s leg, swirling around it like a lithe snake. It opened its mouth wide and snapped it shut around her leg so fast there was nothing but a blur of flashing teeth. She roared her fury, reaching down and snatching the creature up with a fist, and threw him to the ground. Marty was at her side instantly, stomping a heeled foot into its protruding belly as it screamed.
Wanda shoved Casey behind her protectively.
But Casey pulled from Wanda, taking caution as she approached Hildegard. Fear drove her footsteps. Prudence drove her words. “Okay, so I jumped the gun. Went all cocky on you. I’m sorry. What was I thinking? Let’s just do this the way we planned. I’ll take your place in Hell, and you feed from Clay. Nothing changes. Naomi’s safe. Same dealio.” She stuck her hand in Hildegard’s direction, offering it to her to shake on it.
Nina yanked at Casey’s sweater, and Wanda made a move to stop her, but Casey shrugged them off.
Her smile, red and glossed, was sly. “Nah. I like the new deal much better. Clay’s mine. Not just sort of mine, but mine. In every way. The way he should have been before my sister came along and stole him from me. She knew I wanted Clay, and that didn’t stop her. So instead, I stopped her. Now I can have what was rightfully mine centuries ago. So forgetaboutit.” Then she laughed. Kinda crazy.
A shiver of terror spread from Casey’s toes to her skull, filled with disgust for this woman. Filled with distaste at the idea that she’d be able to touch Clay with her filthy, jealous paws.
Nina rocked from foot to foot, her leg healing before Casey’s eyes while Wanda cracked her neck and Marty rolled her shoulders, but Casey held up a hand to them. Maybe she could reason her way out of this. Use her people skills. “But think of all the things you’ll miss in Hell. You can’t shop in Hell. Oh, and you can’t play with Bendy Bob. . . .”
“Bendy Bob?” her sister and her friends repeated in sync.
Hildegard drew a polished red nail over Casey’s chin, then flicked her lips. “What will I need Bendy Bob for when I have Clay? You’ve tapped that, right? So you know exactly what I mean. It’s finger-lickin’ good.” She popped the very finger she’d so arrogantly drawn over Casey’s chin into her mouth and sucked it with a wet slurp.
Okay, people skills now officially could be considered an epic fail.
Casey’s head spun with angry swirls of light and sound while Nina jammed her face in Hildegard’s, letting her fangs elongate. She grabbed a fistful of Hildegard’s sweater and yanked, jarring poor Arch. “Back off, sistah. Back off now or you and this Bendy Bob are gonna be more than just strange bedfellows, you freak.”
Wanda stood behind Nina, and Marty moved around to the other side, forming a protective circle around Casey.
And the mob of demons moved closer. Slithering, crawling, crowding the women until she almost couldn’t breathe from the surge of raw fury. Nina growled, feral, sending out a warning signal. Archibald still hung from Hildegard’s shoulder, unmoving to the point that Casey began to fear he wouldn’t ever move again.
Casey’s heart crashed, her adrenaline pumped, her pulse erratically punched her skin from the inside out. No matter how strong, no matter how paranormally skilled, her sister, her friends, Archibald would all be killed if she didn’t act.
Oh, but they were fucked, well and good. Hildegard didn’t need Casey’s deal because Clay had given her exactly what she’d wanted. Hildegard would have what would never be hers without having to put the screws to Clay, and Naomi wou
ld suffer because her father would be miserable.
For eternity.
And Hildegard knew it. It was written all over her fantastical features as she arrogantly gazed at Casey.
And that made Casey want to throw her ass to the ground and stomp all over her smug, self-assured face.
Something protective, innate, wild, and furious swelled in her. At all costs, what Clay had been so against had to happen, and it had to happen now, before Hildegard could find him. Wherever the fuck he was.
And if it was the last thing she did—she’d stop the crazy bitch.
Unfortunately, from the looks of things—it probably would be the last thing she did.
But it’d be hella memorable.
Casey let out a sigh of boredom, pausing the tension as they stared each other down. “You know what, Hildegard? I think you’re right. The deal thing? It’s just not gonna work. But there’s one thing you’re wrong about. . . .”
She winked her long lashes. “Don’t be silly. I’m never wrong.”
“But you are. You said it was your anniversary. But you forgot to include me, and that leaves me soooo hurt. I mean, technically, Clay’s my mate, too. What if I told you I don’t much like to share?”
Her chiseled chin lifted upward in defiance. “I’d tell you you’d better be prepared to die for that statement.”
Casey took a step closer, ignoring Archibald’s wild, frantic eyes and bumping chests with Hildegard. “Okay. Well, what if I told you that you’re a crazy bitch, and you’ll have Clay when Hell is an ice rink in Antarctica?”
“I’ll kill you,” she whispered between thin lips.
“Not if I kill you first,” Casey singsonged, gritting her teeth before grabbing the long strand of Hildegard’s hair and yanking it, making her lose her grip on Archibald, who slumped to the floor before Wanda or Marty could stop it.
Casey watched him slither to the ground in a helpless lump.
Fuck it all if that didn’t really hack her off.
And so, yeah.
More madness erupted—but she’d adjusted to this sort of thing now. It seemed it was the only way these demons liked to settle things.
She was down with that.
CHAPTER 19
Launching herself at Hildegard, Casey paid no heed to the demons that jumped from the ceiling, latching onto every available surface of her body and screeching their rage, ripping at her flesh, sinking their talons into her skin so deep she felt blood ooze from various places on her body her in a hot rush.
She didn’t hear Nina, Wanda, and Marty when they roared, shifting, turning, doing whatever their supernatural bent was in order to protect her. She didn’t see them taking out demons like they were dominos only to have more appear.
All she could see was Hildegard’s face. The face of a woman who wanted her man—even if he was hers by proxy. He was still hers.The face of a woman who would take a father away from his little girl.
Casey, fueled by her uncontainable rage, clawed at Hildegard, shoving her fingers into her mouth and jamming them downward until she screamed her anger, tearing her jaw free. “I’ll kill you, you bitch!”
Like Casey was nothing more than a feather, Hildegard flung her, sending her with a harsh crack into a pizza oven. Her neck snapped back on contact, knocking her eyeballs sideways when she slid to the ground.
That incessant niggle of rage that began as a slow, steady climb didn’t waste any time today. Instead, it roared through her, jolting her body so hard, she was launched upward until she was airborne.
The carnage below her left Casey seething.Archibald lay in the corner of the pizzeria, out cold. Wanda and Marty’s clothes were shredded, scattered across the floor, their shoes discarded haphazardly.
Wanda and Marty—omigod, they really could turn into werewolves. Two hairy, multicolored beasts rose on their hind legs, shooting like bullets at a group of writhing demons, canines dripping with saliva. They tore into three of them at once with bone-chilling howls.
Nina held two demons in either fist, raising her arms high and flinging them across the room only for them to crash together, then turn into one gelatinous entity. Each demon the girls attacked regenerated into something more horrifying than it originally was. They were like tribbles, multiplying by the dozens, cackling, giggling their maniacal joy at the game.
Fear turned to a hopelessness that seared Casey’s quivering gut. What had they been thinking when they thought they could take on this mass from Hell? No matter how strong they were as a group, you couldn’t thwart what kept regenerating and coming back in droves.
She read books all the time. Her nose had always been buried in a book. Why hadn’t she researched how to kill a demon?
From the corner of her eye, Casey caught skulking shadows. Prepared to pin them to the far wall with her fireballs, she stopped just in time to realize the men had finally arrived.
A dark man, tall, imposing, hauled a long, black hose.
Which would be great if flogging these fuckers about the head and neck had any effect. Darnell was close behind in a yellow rain slicker, galoshes, and hat, with a frilly pink umbrella shadowing his head. “Fry the mooootherfuuuuuckers!” he screamed at the man, pointing his finger forward as though he were about to lead a charge.
“Casey, Nina, Wanda—get the hell out of the way!” tall, dark, and as yet unnamed roared, releasing the spigot and spraying the room, washing it with gushes of water.
Casey dove for the bathrooms, soaring through the air to crash into the men’s room, splintering the door as she did. Scurrying to her feet, she crawled out of the bathroom sheltered by a short hallway, where she watched this man with Heath and Greg behind him wield the black hose like he was wielding a weapon.
Piteous screeching ricocheted off the walls of the pizzeria when the water sprayed them. One by one scaled, horned demons turned to trembling Jell-O like globs, plopping to the floor in gooey masses, sinking into the floorboards.
But another group cropped up by the large, boarded front window, swirling around Nina. Her mouth opened wide, her fangs gleaming under the light, she howled, charging them. And then Greg was by her side, peeling each demon off and casting them behind him with a mere flick of his wrist, to Heath, who scooped them up and chucked them toward the unknown man. “Keegan!” His bark was gruff. “Hose the assholes!” he bellowed.
She knew that name. It was Marty’s husband, and whatever he was wielding rocketh.
Marty and Wanda began to pluck demons from the walls with their doglike jaws, shaking their heads with violent shudders when they threw them toward Keegan, who sprayed them until they sizzled with crackling pops.
It was like watching a sick game of Asteroids, picking off demons one shot at a time.
And then she saw Archibald, still lying in the corner, crushed between the chairs and a table. Droplets of water from the shower of the hose fell on her, setting her exposed skin on fire. Crawling toward him, shoving her way with care through the toppled chairs and tables, she latched onto his pant leg and tugged him to her, moving him with a slow pull so as not to jar his crooked ankle. Tears streamed down her face—he would never survive being tossed about like this. He was at least eighty years old, for Christ’s sake.
His head lolled at an awkward angle, but his eyes opened, warm and solemn. “Miss Casey?”
“Oh, thank God,” she sobbed, pushing her matted hair from her face to see him more clearly. She cradled his limp body against her shaking one.
“Thank Him later,” he replied, muffled against her chest.
“What?”
“Trust me when I tell you, Miss, all is well. I’m playing possum. Now leave me be. Please. Go, help the others!” His face was distraught with panic, his jowls quaking when he urged her to leave him on the floor.
“Possum . . . but you’re hurt! Your ankle . . .”
“I’m fine, and I’ve located Master Clay,” he panted.
“Where the hell is he?”
Archibald
gasped for air. “In the refrigerator, Miss. He sleeps the sleep of the innocent.”
Or the dead, for all the howling and raging going on. “Does Hildegard know where he is?”
“No! But you must hurry if you’re to drink from him. Now you must go help the others!”
She ran a hand over his face, fear for him coursing through her veins. “I can’t just leave you here. Let me pull you somewhere safer.”
“Miss?”
“What?”
“Look—behind—youuuuu!” he yelled.
It was never good when someone said that because it usually meant there was some bad shit back yonder. It was just like when you watched a horror flick and while the too-stupid-to-live heroine went down in the basement to see what the noise was, you screamed, “Dumb ass! Don’t go down there!” at the movie screen.
Yep.
That was exactly what it was like, Casey reflected.
But only briefly.
It was all she had time for before Hildegard slugged her so hard with a fist of iron, she heard bones crunch in her face.
Casey’s head flew back on impact, snapping like a twig while Hildegard attacked with a rebel cry, tearing at fistfuls of hair, hauling her upward and dragging her across the floor while everyone else was distracted with the business of demon whacking.
Casey reared up against Hildegard, slapping against her long body, digging her nails into her hip, but her grip was like steel. The first tingle of her fingertips was a welcome burst of heat. Rolling her wrist, she shot upward, aiming it at Hildegard’s gloriously blond, Pantene hair.
Her screech of pain didn’t just bring a satisfied smile to Casey’s lips, but allowed her the leverage to squirm free. Dropping to the ground with a hard thud, Casey fought for balance, rising up and steamrolling her flaming menace. With one hand, she sent Hildegard screeching into the nearest wall, holding her fingers as though she actually had them around her neck.
The wall collapsed behind her from the force of Casey’s blow, and there lay Clay. Doing the narcoleptic vampire thing. Sound asleep, like the world hadn’t gone mad around him.
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