Stone 02 Kato

by DB Reynolds

  “Oh, God. All right. I’m coming with you.” That last was said defiantly, as if she expected him to deny her, but she didn’t understand demons the way he did.

  “You’re definitely coming with me,” he agreed. “It’s the safest place for you. With at least two kills to feed it, the demon will be feeling much stronger by now. It will have surveyed its new hunting ground and seen its favorite prey in the millions who live here, with no one to stop it from killing at will. Except you. And now you’ve come right to its outstretched hand.”

  “Well, shit.”

  He smiled. “You’re not leaving my side.”

  “Not exactly a hardship, bud.” She went up on her toes and kissed him. It started as a light brush of their lips. He was certain it hadn’t been intended to be anything more. But the moment their mouths touched, he was filled with such an aching need that he couldn’t let her go. He wanted just a little more, and then a little more after that, until their brushing kiss became a passionate devouring, with teeth and tongues and harsh groans of hunger. He yanked her closer, crushing her breasts against his chest, feeling the sharp points of her nipples as she moaned into his mouth. He shifted one hand to the small of her back, pressing her against him, wanting to feel the length of her body, the soft stroke of her belly against his suddenly, painfully erect cock. He hadn’t had an erection in all of the millennia he’d been trapped, and this sudden arousal hurt like hell. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to bury himself in the soft heat of Grace’s body.

  And thank the gods he wasn’t alone in his desire. That would have been beyond humiliating. Women had thrown themselves at him all of his life, and not one of them had ever mattered for longer than it took to fuck their brains out. But if Grace had rejected him . . .

  He didn’t have to worry about that. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and she had one leg twined around his thigh, as if to prevent him from trying to escape. Which was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to throw her down and fuck her for hours, days, until she was sated and limp, and his cock was wrung dry.

  But there was that damn demon to deal with. Before he fucked her, he had to make her safe.

  He pulled away just enough to say her name. “Grace.”

  She hummed wordlessly and yanked his head forward, her fingers twisting in the tail of his long hair.

  The scent of her arousal hit him, and he almost succumbed, despite the demon and its threat. Almost. But at that moment, one of the vehicles down below burped a loud trill of a siren, dragging him forcefully back to his duty. Grace had been right about that much. Getting rid of these demons was his responsibility. Even if Nico or the others had been here, he was better equipped than any of them for this particular challenge.

  “Grace,” he said again, stroking a hand down her hair, kissing her cheek, her eyes, her brow, to soften the need to postpone their coupling. “We have to go, amata. You’re not safe until the demon is dead.”

  She stared up at him with eyes nearly blinded by desire, her lips swollen from his kisses, her soft skin chafed by his day-old beard, which had begun to grow again now that he was free. She licked her lips, blinking as reason returned to her gaze. “Bad timing, dude,” she whispered.

  “There will be other times, Grace.”

  “You’re damn right there will be,” she snarled, and then gave him a final, gut-wrenching kiss before unhooking her leg from his thigh and stepping back with a last, lingering stroke over his chest. She breathed deeply. “All right. How do we do this?”

  GRACE FELT A tug on her braid before Kato put enough distance between them that their bodies wouldn’t ignite and spontaneously combust right there on the Persian rug. Which was a good thing, because the rug was on loan from her grandmother, and she wouldn’t know how to explain its destruction. On the other hand, since she wouldn’t be around to explain it anyway, spontaneously combusting with Kato might just be worth it.

  The fact that she was even considering this problem told her exactly how rattled her brains were. Kato Amadi had shaken her to her core, and she couldn’t wait to let him do it all over again. She was no virgin. She’d lost that on prom night in the most clichéd of all clichés. She’d had lovers since, too, but she’d never experienced raw need like she’d felt just now with Kato. Was that what sex was supposed to be like? If so, she’d been missing out all these years.

  “Is there a basement to this building?”

  She blinked at the unexpected question. A basement. No one in California had a basement, she thought to herself, but close on that was the rejoinder that it wasn’t quite true. The garage shared by the two buildings was sort of like a basement. She concentrated, trying to remember everything she’d been told about the complex when she’d first bought the condo. Basement facilities hadn’t exactly been high on her “must have” list, but . . .

  “Yeah, I think so. I mean, not like the East Coast where basements are as big as the first floor, but there’s the garage, which is below street level, and a storage room behind that, where each unit has a big cupboard kind of thing. And I think some of the maintenance rooms are back there, too.”

  She waited for a reaction, but Kato didn’t seem to be listening. He was too busy scanning her kitchen, as if looking for something specific. Without warning, he walked over to her sink and turned on the hot water, letting it run until she could see steam in the sunlight. “Where does this come from?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I have my own hot water tank. We all do. There’s no central tank, if that’s what you mean. And we each have our own furnace, so that’s not centralized either.”

  He didn’t seem to understand what she was talking about. She doubted they’d had indoor plumping or HVAC back in the ancient mists of time.

  “When I said maintenance rooms, I meant the elevator controls. You know, the motor or whatever else makes it work. I know how to push buttons to get to the floor I want, but that’s the sum total of my elevator knowledge.”

  “The demon will seek out a hiding place that’s warm and dark. For all that it hungers for the light and life of this world, it will feel safest in a nest that speaks of home.”

  “The elevator room would probably fit. It must get hot back there.”

  He nodded. “The scent from its latest kill will be strongest. We’ll start there.”

  She shook her head. “Too many cops right now, Kato. I know you can magic everyone with your no-see-me and all, but this isn’t going to be like when you walked by them in the hall. The room will be crawling with cops and techs of all kinds.”

  He gave her a frustrated look, but there was nothing she could do about the overwhelming police presence. This was Brentwood. People expected to be safe. And if someone really had been murdered, the second someone in as many days, the police would be going all out to find the killer. If they weren’t careful, Kato with his nonexistent photo ID could be the next one arrested.

  “All right,” he said finally, apparently having decided that glowering at her wasn’t going to change the facts. “I’d hoped for a fresher scent, but the first murder will have to do.”

  SEEING THE ACTUAL crime scene brought it all home for Grace. Sure, she’d watched Kato fight a demon in her office two nights ago, but there’d been such a surreal quality to that. It had been so unexpected and damn unlikely, when you got right down to it, that her mind had relegated the whole thing to the realm of nightmares, complete with the handsome hero who saved the day.

  But this. . . . She’d guarded the door when they’d been here before, watching for unexpected visitors at Kato’s request—or, you know, order, but why quibble over words? But not today. They were in this thing together, and she wanted to know what they were dealing with. Kato must have agreed with her, because he didn’t so much as blink an eye when she followed him through the living room of the empty condo, and into the master bedroom that was right below hers.

  He paused in the doorway, his broad back and shoulders filling the open space so that she c
ouldn’t see around him. But then he moved, and the horror of what had happened in that room slammed into her with shocking force. Blood was everywhere. Not fresh, red blood, but spreading, dark stains that spoke of unimaginable violence. And the smell. Who would have thought that blood would still smell after two days? Was it still wet down underneath the carpet? Still red and sticky where it hid in the padding?

  Grace fought off a wave of nausea, determined to prove to Kato that she could handle this. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to study the room, trying to see what he did. But as she stood in that blood-soaked room, one litany pounded in her head, getting louder and louder. This had been a person, someone she’d never even met, and he’d paid the price for her mistake. It was a fifty-pound weight around her neck and getting heavier with every minute.

  “Don’t dwell on it,” Kato said, squeezing the back of her neck and bringing her back to the present. Taking her arm, he walked them both back through the condo to the hallway and closed the door behind them, shutting away the horror.

  “I’ve seen more death than you can imagine,” he said, as he pushed open the heavy fire door and directed her into the cool air of the stairwell. He paused there, putting one arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest. “There’s no logic to it, Grace. No reason why one man dies and another lives. Good men die to preserve the wealth of the corrupt. Disasters kill thousands of innocents.”

  “Yeah, but this wasn’t random,” she muttered against his chest. “I was the one the demon was looking for. I copied that scroll.”

  “Without knowing what it was, much less what it would do. There must be hundreds of condos in these buildings, hundreds more people living in them. And yet, fate decided that this one man would die.”

  “And what if you’re right, and there’s been a second murder? We don’t even know—”

  “Precisely. There’s too much we don’t know. But it’s certain we can’t change what is already done. We can only make sure it doesn’t happen again. That’s our only duty, Grace. To prevent, with foreknowledge, the disasters that may yet occur.”

  “Is that how you did it? When you fought for Nico?”

  He nodded. “It was a lesson hard-learned, but it’s the only way to remain sane in the midst of war. And believe me, this will be war, if we don’t stop it now.”

  He loosened his hold on her, then turned and started down the stairs. Grace followed, trying not to slow him down. Something told her he’d have been taking the stairs a lot faster if he’d been alone, but while she had the stamina and strength to keep up the pace, she simply didn’t have the leg length to manage more than two steps at a time.

  If Kato was impatient, it never showed, however. Mr. Zen seemed totally focused on the demon’s scent, to the exclusion of everything else. So much that Grace might have felt as if she was just along for the ride, except that Kato had taken hold of her hand and wouldn’t let go. She wanted to believe he was gaining some strength from her presence, that she rooted him in this reality somehow. But she had a feeling it was more that he feared something would jump out from behind the potted plants and snatch her away. His steady grip was reassuring, but it also reminded her that she was likely to be the demon’s number one dinner choice.

  Kato didn’t hesitate when they reached the lobby level, but just opened the door and started walking. His head was swiveling from side to side, his nostrils flaring as he searched for the demon’s scent in the crowded lobby. A few residents of the building were huddled behind plants, having quiet, urgent conversations with the police, or being reassured by EMTs. But most of the people filling the lobby were cops.

  He pulled her into a sudden embrace, as if comforting her, then put his mouth to her ear and said softly, “The creature crossed this space and exited there.” He nodded his head at the door opposite the one they’d just exited, the stairs to the second condo building. “You and I are going to explore behind that door.”

  She looked up at him in alarm, but he took her hand and started walking. “Just hold onto my hand and act like you belong,”

  She swallowed a groan and thought about belonging, trying to channel Kato and his endless supply of confidence. She pictured a flow of energy between them, traveling down his arm and through his fingers to hers. Om. She had to stifle the urge to giggle before it destroyed the purity of his illusion.

  But it worked.

  They cruised past the police guard and into the stairwell, but instead of going up to the crime scene, as she’d expected, Kato headed downward. They quickly descended two short flights, but he pulled her to a stop before taking the third.

  “What room is down there?” he asked, speaking for her ears only while indicating the closed door at the bottom of the stairs.

  Grace peered over the pipe railing, stretching to read the sign on the metal fire door. “Machine room,” she read softly. “That’s the one I told you about. I bet it’s locked, though.”

  She looked up just in time to catch him rolling his eyes. “She has learned nothing,” he muttered, and she bumped his chest with her forehead in silent protest. His chest shook with suppressed laughter, and she smiled despite their rather desperate circumstances.

  “What now?” she murmured.

  He put a hand under her chin and leaned back, until she was looking up at him. “The demon is down there.”

  Grace’s smile shriveled, and her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. “For sure?”

  He nodded. “Once we’re inside, you stay behind me and out of the way. This fight isn’t for you.”

  “I have my gun.”

  “And if the beast breaks away and attacks you directly, you should use it. But only then.”

  “In other words, don’t shoot you by accident.”

  He shrugged slightly. “The battle will be vicious and likely faster than your eye will be able to follow. Don’t worry about me, Grace. Only yourself.”

  She wasn’t crazy about that as a general philosophy, but she would do her best not to get in the way, and especially not to shoot the good guy. She gave a sharp nod. “I’m ready.”

  They took the final few stairs and paused at the closed door. Gesturing for her to stand back, Kato reached over his head and, with a single, slick move, drew the dark length of his blade. Meeting her eyes one last time, he placed his other hand on the doorknob. With a flex of muscle and the scream of twisting metal, he forced the locked knob to turn and opened the door.

  Noise and stink. That’s what greeted them on the other side. So much noise that she worried whether Kato could hear anything above the rush of hot air and the grinding sound of metal gears. And the smell. She was amazed he’d been able to track the demon this far, surprised that the stink of the motor hadn’t overwhelmed whatever trail he’d been following.

  But even as she had that thought, her senses grew sharper as they adjusted to the first overwhelming rush of input, and separated out sounds, smells, and sights. Her nose was suddenly able to distinguish individual scents from the overall stink—the heavy grease of the elevator gears, the burning dust that stung the inside of her nostrils, and something else. Something heavy with iron and rot.

  The door swung shut behind her with a loud clang. She jumped and looked over her shoulder, but Kato didn’t react at all. His attention was fixed on the dark space behind a big piece of machinery against the far wall, one with thick pipes of different sizes clustered together and running up to the ceiling where they disappeared into the shadows.

  Kato said something in a language that reminded her of the few scroll words that he’d read out loud back at the beach house.

  She didn’t have any time to ponder that, however, because, as if called forth by whatever Kato had said, a gruesome creature moved slowly into the dim light. Its skin was red and glistening wet, much like the demon in her office, but this one was at least fifty percent bigger. Its skin appeared to be scaled, but as it drew closer, she could see that they weren’t actually scales, but rather crescent-shap
ed bumps and ridges, like scarred protrusions of the skin.

  “Grace,” Kato said in a low warning voice. “The fiend spits a deadly fluid that blinds, and it can mesmerize. Don’t get too close, and don’t meet its gaze.”

  “Grace.” The demon’s voice was surprisingly melodic as it repeated her name with a lip-smacking relish. “Come closer. You and I can converse as intelligent beings, away from this tool of the Dark Witch.” It flung a dismissive hand in Kato’s direction, and then roared more in anger than pain when Kato lopped half its arm off.

  “Be careful what you take into your bed, little human,” the demon snarled. It shook the stump of its arm, flinging nearly black blood around the room. “This thing that styles itself your protector is no better than any of my brethren in hell.”

  Grace had placed her back against the closed door as soon as the demon appeared. The door’s sturdy weight lent strength to the two-handed grip she had on her Glock, and it also posed a barrier that ensured no one and nothing would be sneaking in from the outside. The thing that was already inside with them was more than awful enough, and now it was trying to manipulate her, to push her buttons, just as Kato said it would. Fortunately, it didn’t know her buttons well enough to push the right one. It thought to convince her that Kato wasn’t human? No problem there. In her experience, being human wasn’t always that much of a recommendation. She judged people by their actions, and so far, Kato was passing with flying colors. After all, he wasn’t the one going around slaughtering people.

  Kato said something else in that strange language, the syllables edged and biting, painful. The demon bared a mouth full of sharp but ragged teeth, and then, ripping off the remains of its own arm, it shook the severed limb hard and said something that might have been words in a voice that grated on her ears. And suddenly, the gruesome limb was no longer flesh, but a sword with blackened gore dripping down its edge. Ugh. What was it with demons and blades made from their own flesh?