Sekhet

  Lily, disinterested in whatever else was going on in the room, remembering how she had stood over her own body not that long ago, in total shock that she had ended up lying on a slab at thirty-four, thanked Victor. Her voice trailed after Victor, out into the air, along with Frankie Davis’s shouting; he still seemed to think it possible to punch and shove people, even in his state.

  If Budrow hadn’t been there, Victor would have already told Frankie exactly what was in store for him, but for now, he would bite his tongue and wait until the overly testy chief left him in peace.

  The only thing that was worse than a small-town chief of police was one who was smarter than most detectives he had come across, forcing Victor to remember that Budrow was not simply what he appeared to be.

  The man had seen things that Victor had yet to witness. All Victor had to do now was get rid of him so he could deal with Frankie, get back to Dot’s, figure out what their visiting Hell Demon really wanted, and then, maybe, attempt to mend his partnership.

  Victor felt so betrayed by Sarah, but he understood her lashing out, given the circumstances. He left Budrow at the scene. Driving Sarah’s car, since Joe had abandoned him, he found the town both foreign and strangely familiar. It reminded Victor of the last time he had visited Twisp, where his parents now lived again, and the ten feet he had to race to get into his car before his father caught up with him. It had been a discussion that ended with no communication between the two of them for over a year, with his mother shouting, ‘He doesn’t mean it!’ in the background. Little did she know; Victor had meant every word. Or maybe she did know.

  The year Victor spent not dealing with his father, he had to admit, was problematic. He had botched over twenty pass-overs, with only Molly to help him. Not that Joe couldn’t have aided him in the easiest situations, but Joe didn’t have Molly’s skill set. And blinding spells came in extremely conveniently when they were in a cramped room with a manifestation hanging from the ceiling fan over their heads, as they downed champagne in celebration of some milestone.

  ***

  Putting the key in his front door lock, Budrow stopped abruptly when he felt a familiar hot breath on his neck.

  “So this is home?” Sekhet said in a sarcastic voice. “I have to say, I love what you’ve done with the place.”

  “What are you doing here?” replied Scurlock in a hushed whisper, turning fast toward the house, ensuring no one was coming to investigate why he still hadn’t entered.

  “I was … curious.”

  “You are never just curious! I will ask again, what are you doing here?” Cut off by the sound of his wife’s voice floating through the thick air between them, the chief was forced to change his darkened eyes back to the deep blue she was so used to, to answer his wife. “Nothing, sweetie. Lucy just wanted to thank me for helping out earlier.”

  “She does?”

  “Yes.” He laughed uneasily. “Remember?” His eyes flashed dangerously, but Sekhet’s full attention was on the woman standing before her. So this is what you gave up everything for, she thought, allowing him the courtesy of hearing her thoughts.

  I will destroy you if you ruin this for me, he growled inwardly, all the while showing a smiling face to the woman he adored.

  Ha, like the time you destroyed me for Ella? I did you a favor, getting rid of that woman.

  Fine. I will give you that one, he agreed.

  Damn straight! What do you see in this one? She is hardly on my scale.

  “Exactly!” Once the word crossed his mind, he regretted it. He could see past the face of Lucy, into the eyes and anger of his past lover. Someone who had been his better half, if that was at all possible, considering whom he was speaking of. For over a thousand years, she had ignored his inability to refrain from disappearing into this realm, feeding his own desires, laughing off the number of spawn he had managed to produce, but all in all, her willingness to forgive was interesting to him. This time was different. She was not here to forgive. And he knew it.

  “Lucy, hello. Would you like to join us?” his wife asked politely. “I just put on the coffee pot.”

  “She has things to do, I’m sure,” Budrow jumped in with a smile before an answer could come from Sekhet.

  “Of course I would; thank you for the offer.” As Sekhet pushed past him, Scurlock could feel the heat emanating from her, prickling his skin. Grabbing her arm as she took the lead into his house, he hissed a warning through his teeth that she had better take heed.

  Pulling herself free and snapping her teeth at him like a rabid animal, Sekhet took her first step through the welcoming door of his home.

  ***

  Getting off the phone with his father, Victor sat on a stool by himself at the far end of the bar as the glass of whiskey touched his lips. The smells in the bar were the norm. Stale beer. Smokers. People who would brave any weather to feed their addictions. And the barman, who, to get tips, wanted to force a conversation. Thankfully, he hadn’t bothered tonight, leaving Victor alone to wrestle with his thoughts.

  He hadn’t bothered to do anything about Frankie Davis, deciding Daniel might have a better way of dealing with the soul of a man who had given no sign of having one in the living world. Victor struggled with this on a daily basis. How could he help a murderer pass over in the same way he did the victim? It seemed so unfair.

  Victor wanted to send them somewhere where a jury of the dead, and not him, would come to a decision concerning the choice. The desire to make them suffer for the things they had done was overwhelming, but it was not Victor’s place to decide this. He got rid of them, leaving whoever was on the other side to deal with them, once they passed over.

  Victor had discovered that the young woman at the park, the one who had helped him with Emily Watson following her murder, had been missing for almost fifty years before her body was discovered. Now she was not just a nameless ghost, roaming around with nowhere else to go. She had a name: Jessica; she had been reported missing in 1973 by her parents, who had both sung her praises. She was sweet, well-liked by all who met her, and had never reported being abused in or outside of the home. One day she was there, the next she was gone, never to be seen again. Five decades trapped with nowhere to go but wait for someone like Victor.

  He knew he needed to contact Olivia before she took it upon herself to follow him here to Twisp, just to make sure he wasn’t shacked up with Molly. He would lie and tell her he was staying in a local hotel; if she knew they were under the same roof, she would cut his balls clean off.

  Again, he was faced with the reality of his situation. Molly had always been part of his life, the sister he never had, except for that one time, which was now biting him hard in the ass, and Olivia, although not the one he could see as his forever sweetheart, was important to him. Downing his liquor, he lifted his glass as a blast of hot summer air rushed in through the door opening wide behind him.

  “The same,” Daniel said to the bartender, indicating Victor’s glass, catching Victor off guard. His voice was soft as he took a seat beside his son. “Where’s Joe?’

  “Plotting my death,” Victor replied dryly.

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  “You realize there is a pissed-off ghost here?” Daniel added, turning slightly to his left.

  “Yep! And I need him to answer some questions.”

  “And has he?”

  “I got what I needed.”

  Daniel laughed. The usual ‘You’re irresponsible,’ speech never came, and Victor’s shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Is he just following you, or are you well acquainted?”

  “He is Frankie Davis.” Taking a sip, Victor listened to Davis tell Daniel what had happened to him at the hands of Sarah Sinclair.

  “I will be back in just a moment,” Daniel said, motioning for Davis to follow him. Ten minutes later, he was back, downed his drink, and requested another.

  “I take it he’s gone,” Victor replied.

  “Against his will.
So your mother would like to see you before you leave for Seattle.”

  “Sure. Sorry I haven’t been by yet; it’s just been…”

  “Hectic?”

  “Strange.” His answer so focused it grabbed Daniel’s attention immediately.

  “How so?” Daniel asked, taking in his son’s appearance. “There is strange like when you were a child and witnessed things your mother did in the kitchen, or there is strange like the things you refuse to acknowledge.”

  “Witches I can handle.” Victor lowered his voice. “Hell Demons, however, are a different story.”

  “Well, yes, Sekhet is an interesting character. Very interesting.”

  “You’ve dealt with her before? What do you think I should do?” Victor was suddenly opening up to his father. “Too many things have happened that can’t be explained away, or ignored. First the girl, now Frankie Davis, and only in the past couple of days. We don’t need the attention.”

  “We? As in the police?” Daniel was confused, “You are the police, Victor.”

  “No, as in the Supernatural Council jumping in and making things worse. This is not just us or the Witches’ Council; this is the half-demons who, as we both know, have very little control, or want to have any. We might as well open Hell’s gates and welcome them all in.”

  “Keeping them contained would be for the benefit of all involved.” Daniel agreed.

  “No shit.”

  “I have to admit, son, things are very different this time.”

  If Daniel thought it different now, were they going to be overrun by everything to come out of Hell? Victor couldn’t not ask his father, since it was Daniel who had dealt with Sekhet before. “How?”

  “When she refused to leave before, it was to teach Molly a lesson. A cruel one, to be sure. To break her, if you will. But Molly was not broken. This time, I am assuming there has been no request to quench her thirst in hunting the less fortunate. Right.” This was said as more of a statement than a question, leaving Victor struggling with his own thoughts as he waited for his father to continue.

  “The fact of the matter, son, is that she is here for her own purpose, and there is very little we can do until we can figure out what that purpose is. If we can stop her, that will be a victory.”

  “You said she is an interesting character. What do you mean, Dad?”

  Victor’s interest in Sekhet was evident – and necessary – but Daniel couldn’t help but feel the need to protect his son against the demon who took what she wanted. “When you hear of a person being a lover, not a fighter,” he explained, “you think of a kindhearted soul who just wants happiness, less stress in this thing we all call life. Sekhet, however, is a fighter, a famous, impressive individual within her own world – merciless, if the truth be told. But as time has passed, her thirst for companionship has begun to outweigh everything else.”

  “So you’re saying you think she is here for companionship?”

  “I’m afraid that is something only she can answer,” Daniel admitted. “But be careful in your questioning. Remember, she demands respect and will take it out of your hide if it is not given.”

  Slapping his hand down on the bar top, Victor cursed loud enough to draw the attention of the four other patrons at the bar, who cast a fleeting look his way, though paying little or no attention to the reasons behind his outburst. Those who were acquainted with the father-son duo put it down to a regular conversation between the two, since such things never ended well with the two of them.

  “So, basically, I am back to where I started?”

  “Don’t you think you should be worrying about the man I just got rid of for you?” Daniel countered.

  “I have already figured that one out. Breaking and entering, attacked the homeowner. She defended herself. Turns out he was out for revenge against his deceased wife’s family over her inheritance and her life insurance payout.”

  “That easy, that simple, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll tell your mother you’ll come by tomorrow.” Grinning, Daniel stood, finished off his glass, patted Victor on the back, handed him the box and walked out.

  “Dammit!” Throwing money on the counter, Victor grabbed the box and followed close behind his father, although he didn’t look for him once he was outside. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed the number he’d been avoiding. It rang twice before an out-of-breath Joe answered.

  “Are you out running?” Victor laughed, trying to keep it light.

  “Yeah, but I knew you were about to call, so I thought I might as well answer since it was already in my hand.”

  “Look, Joe…we need…”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I already know what you are going to say.”

  “But …”

  “Again, I have seen this conversation, Partner, and I don’t want any part of it,” Joe said, slowing down so he could talk. “Right now I’d like to think that’s how Molly feels as well, since you have made up your minds about where you both stand.” Coming to a complete halt, Joe couldn’t help his blood level rising to boiling point. The urge to punch Victor in the face was so overwhelming his fist automatically clenched his fist.

  “Look Joe, I can say it’s all in your head, but I respect you too much to try to make you think Sarah was lying. We were young. It was just one night, a night where sense played no part. I was having a rough time in Seattle, she was having a worse time living here and dealing with Lucy and her bullshit. It just happened. I can’t take it back, neither of us can. But rest assured, it isn’t something I think about, even when we are around each other. It has never been like that with us. We are friends and always will be, no matter our past history. Please believe me that I never told you because there was nothing to tell.”

  And at that moment, Victor came to realize that he could never tell Joe the whole truth. That there were days he woke up and thought about how the light in her bedroom hit Molly’s face softly against the night sky while she sat by the window. But it was not love, it had never been passion – it had been a friend’s tenderness that helped in what seemed to be his own pitiful existence at that time.

  “You suck, Victor!”

  “So we’re still partners?”

  “What do you think?”

  ***

  Perched on the seat opposite the woman who had been chosen in place of her, Sekhet watched how Jess moved, how her hands spoke for her in so many ways, and how she looked at the man she knew only as Jack Budrow. Jess was in love with this man, although knowing nothing about what was driving him from day to day.

  She knew nothing of what the child hanging on her hip might one day become. Girls, Sekhet knew, were so different from boys born from a joining with a demon such as Scurlock. They were beautiful, flawless, powerful. and always with their sights on poor unfortunate unsuspecting fools.

  A humming came from the hallway as a young blond-haired woman wandered in, listening to whatever crap young people listened to these days. Sekhet couldn’t help but follow her with her eyes. Almost drifting through the room with a presence that demanded adoration, the girl was breathtaking. You fool, Sekhet thought as their eyes met. Dark irises glowed with humor as the girl winked in her direction before exiting the same way she entered.

  “She’s your oldest, is she?” the woman whom Jess assumed to be Lucy asked.

  “No. Our son Jason is the oldest. He doesn’t live here but visits when he can.” As if slapping herself for her stupidity, his wife chuckled. “But of course, you already know that, Lucy.” Forcing a smile, she continued, “Yes obviously. Sorry it’s been a long day. She’s a handful.”

  “But aren’t they all, at that age?” Sekhet tried to keep it light-hearted, recalling that she was in possession of Lucy’s body, all the while looking at Scurlock with disdain. She is a succubus! You are a fool to still be here.

  “Yep, that is Aileen,” Budrow said, smiling in the direction the girl had disappeared. “She enjoys her night
s out.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Sekhet whispered under her breath, as a burning grew in the pit of her stomach.

  Jess shook her head as a memory had obviously crept in, but brushed it off as their youngest child, in her lap, began to fuss.

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is…” Sekhet was pointing at the child, “…this child your grandchild? I know we live in the same town and you may deem my question odd, and I don’t tend to interfere with other people’s business. It is just,” a small giggle, “the age gap.”

  “Yes, well a surprise for sure.” Jess was smiling, much to Sekhet’s irritation, “Let’s just say getting pregnant while on the ‘change’ wasn’t exactly what we had in mind. But as the priests say, the last child is always the best!”

  Sekhet actually thought she was going to kill Jess where she stood. She could see it all in her mind, the delight on her face as the woman before her took her last breath. The need to hunt welled up inside her, growing more insistent. She ached to tear through flesh, rend limb from limb, and hear her victims cry out in pain, begging for mercy, before finally ending their lives.

  “On the change? ON THE CHANGE!” Sekhet roared in her own mind as she looked from the woman who had kept the attention of Scurlock for so long, to the man who to the town of Twisp was the best thing since the Internet? Sekhet wanted to kill them all.

  “I should be getting back.” Sliding from the chair, she uttered her good nights and allowed the chief to walk her out.

  Spinning around to face him as soon as they were alone, Sekhet’s voice was rigid with the need for vengeance as her mouth began to froth. “Are you really telling me that you cannot return where you belong because of that?” Pointing her finger towards the house in both anger and mockery, Sekhet could hear her blood pounding in her ears.

  “She needs me,” was all Scurlock replied.

  “I’m sure she does,” Sekhet whispered under her breath, as the burning grew worse in the pit of her stomach. “Is your shallowness so severe that you would remain to watch it firsthand? I’ve been through this with you too many times! This is not our way, and you know it!”