Demon Song bs-3

by Cat Adams

  When I turned back around, fully armed and wearing jeans, a black sweater, and socks and sneakers, he was on his knees on his seat, digging for something in the back compartment. As I slid into the passenger seat, he settled back in the driver’s seat and tossed a small, gift-wrapped box into my lap. “Merry Christmas.”

  He’d bought me a Christmas gift? Before what had just happened? Crap. If we survived what we were about to do, I would have shopping to do.

  “Thanks. I’ll put it under my tree when we’re done.”

  He shook his head and slammed the car into first gear; the tires spun briefly on the gravel before they caught the road and the Ferrari leapt forward. “Open it now. You might need them.”

  Them? Okay, that got my curiosity up. I had the package open before he reached fourth gear. Inside the small box were five ceramic disks on a bed of gauze. The letters TBB were stamped in tiny letters around the rim. Ooh, weapons. A man after my heart. “What are they?”

  “You wanted a total body-binding spell, you got one. It was a hell of a complicated spell, so don’t waste them. These aren’t simple immobilization charms. I mean total body binding. A person could die of thirst if the spell isn’t released in a day or two.”

  “Are there release disks somewhere?”

  He pursed his lips and shook his head, which made me wince. “Nope, so be careful with these. I haven’t had time to do a matching deactivation charm.”

  Well. That complicated things a little. “Thanks, John. Really.” He let out that little tough-guy growl that said I wasn’t supposed to thank him. “What’s your favorite color?”

  His brow furrowed as we zoomed onto the interstate. “Green. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  But he knew. After all, he’s a telepath, and while he didn’t say anything, I saw the flash of his teeth by the light of the instrument panel.

  “Shame we don’t have the fly to give us some idea of what’s happening inside the facility.”

  He twitched his thumb toward the rear seat. “It’s back there. But I haven’t had time to correct the problems you reported yet.”

  I unhooked my seat belt at just the wrong time—as he cranked the wheel hard to go around a slow-moving car—and I nearly fell into his lap. I threw up a hand to stabilize on the door and wound up doing a face plant on his chest. He brushed my hair out of his eyes without a word. If it weren’t for the crisis, I’d swear he swerved intentionally.

  It took a little digging among the accumulated junk in the backseat, including a number of candy bar wrappers, to find the familiar box with the fly. It was sort of nice that he wasn’t a health fanatic. It’s hard to go out to dinner with someone who’s always criticizing the menu. And that might solve the gift issue. “Got it.”

  “Not a box of chocolates. Please. It would feel weird.”

  I raised my brows as I latched my seat belt again. “You know, it’s considered rude to intrude in a person’s thoughts.”

  He tipped his head to the side and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not like turning off the radio, you know. I have to concentrate not to hear. When I’m stressed, it’s harder to shut off.”

  It was hard to argue with that. I remembered Ivy having more problems with ghosts and zombies when she was angry or afraid. “Then could you at least not comment on what you hear?”

  “I’ll try. Sometimes it just slips out.”

  That was likely the best I’d get. “By the way, what did the report say didn’t work on the fly?”

  He flicked his eyes my way and they were narrowed in suspicion. “You say that like you didn’t write it.”

  I shook my head as I opened the box. Everything looked the same, but all of a sudden I didn’t really trust myself to use it. “I didn’t. Have you ever heard of the Company? They track down supernatural hard targets.”

  “Tough to be in this business for very long without hearing about them. Are you saying they got hold of my fly?” He didn’t sound happy about that. “Shit. Well, there goes that patent.”

  Ouch. I hadn’t even thought about that. “Sorry about that. There was a Company man on the job I was doing. Calls himself John Jones.”

  The harsh breath that came from Creede told me he knew Jones all too well. “Oh yeah. I know Jones. What sword did he hang over your head to get you to help? There’s always at least one and usually two. I’ve been there.”

  “My friend Kevin Landingham was in danger. But I have to give Jones credit. He got us out of there pretty much intact. And, he did get someone to get the bullet out of my shoulder.” I automatically touched the spot. It was still amazing to me it wasn’t hurting.

  Instead of growling as I expected, Creede reached across and squeezed my hand. There was real concern in his voice. “Try not to get shot tonight. Okay? Your luck is incredible, but it won’t hold out forever.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I knew someday the other boot was going to drop, but the best I could do was not think about it. “So tell me about the report you got.”

  * * *

  I’ve never actually tailgated a cop car with flashing lights in a speeding Ferrari and had the cop give way. About the only time that happens is in video games. But the bright orange glow on the horizon that had been making my stomach do flip-flops for miles was finally upon us. A trip that normally takes seven-plus hours on the interstate that most locals call the 5 only took four and a quarter. Wow. It was amazing just being in that car. According to Creede, his license plate was magically flashing with a green light that was tied to the A&C designation. The odd color behind drivers apparently makes them change lanes quickly. Nobody knows why.

  As he pulled up next to a Highway Patrolman who was guiding traffic to the site, Creede glanced over at me. “You’re not going to be sensible about this, are you?”

  I was already unhooking my seat belt. “Pfft. What do you think?”

  He rolled down the window and flashed his glowing green card when the cop turned the flashlight in our direction. “Who’s the mage in charge?” Creede said, sounding like he’d asked that question before. I just kept my mouth shut.

  “Special Agent Thomas Branch, sir. Take the main staked path and turn left.” He motioned at me with the light and I stretched my upper lip down over my fang tips. “Where’s your card?”

  Creede started to speak: “She’s with m—”

  “Detective Heather Alexander asked me to report in.” I flashed my state license after carefully putting a finger over the word “bodyguard.” It was nearly an identical card to the ones the freelance consultants to the police used. I’d done that trick a few times, and if the patrolman had never been punked by it before this would be a valuable lesson. “Where is she?”

  Creede didn’t say a word, but there was humor on his face as he struggled not to smile.

  “Down the main aisle and take the second right, ma’am.” The officer moved the light away and I put the license back in my front pocket. I’d have to do that trick more than once before I reached Alex—if I could find her at all. I really did want to talk to her and find out what in the hell had gone wrong.

  Because it was hell on earth. When we got out of the car, the true extent of the situation became dreadfully clear. The fervent chanting of priests in Latin couldn’t quite block out the growls and unearthly screams that made my skin want to crawl off my bones. The ground was rumbling with an eerie intensity like the beginning of an earthquake but worse. I felt my muscles seize, and though I struggled to move, I couldn’t. Creede took my arm and pulled me forward a few feet and I suddenly felt better. “Outer barrier to keep the curious away. You going to be okay? Sure you don’t want to take the car back? I won’t think any less of you.”

  I opened my mouth to reply when I heard a voice to my left: “Celia? What in the name of everything holy are you doing here?”

  Creede and I both turned to see Father Matteo DeLuca, Bruno’s younger brother, storming our way. “Good to see you, Father,” Creede said with an ou
tstretched hand.

  Matty shook it absently, because his whole focus was on me. “It took me five hours to remove the taint of demon from your soul, Celia Graves. And this is how you repay me? By throwing yourself right back into the path of evil?”

  If he thought guilt was going to work on me … well, he’d known me long enough to know better. “If I remember right, it took four hours to clean your soul after a certain vampire bite, Father. And yet here you are.”

  Creede was struggling not to smile. “As much as I’d love to see who wins this tug-of-war, I’d better report in.”

  He hadn’t walked two feet before he nearly ran straight into Bruno. Oh no. I could fight vampires, I could battle demons, but I didn’t want to face both Creede and Bruno in front of a priest.

  My former fiancé’s face lit up when he saw me and he broke into a run. He nearly tackled me and swept me into his arms. The scent of him, the power that flowed over my skin, felt good and right. He was as handsome as ever, and having him near me made my heart beat an extra thump. “Thank heavens you’re safe, Celie! I’ve been worried sick. You didn’t call and the house was empty.”

  He’d gone to my house? While I’d been off at the spa and … the winery? I couldn’t help but flick my eyes over his shoulder to where a somber and serious John Creede was standing with arms crossed over his broad chest. He was watching every move I made. Was I going to have to decide between them right here and now?

  No. First things first. “The flowers were gorgeous, Bruno. Really. They arrived just before I went out of town.”

  “Out of town? Working?” He was fishing, but I had no duty to check in with him and would not be bullied or guilted into being embarrassed.

  “No, actually, I was at a spa in Napa Valley with Dawna and Emma. It was an early Christmas gift.”

  A tremendous howl of inhuman rage and pain filled the air. Bruno abruptly released me and I dropped nearly a foot to the ground. Matty turned and we all watched a flare of fire shoot up nearly a hundred feet. Heat hit us in a wave, so strong that I was surprised my hair didn’t catch on fire. I pushed Bruno away. “Do your job and I’ll do mine. We’ll deal with things later.”

  He nodded once sharply and gave me a fierce press of lips against mine that sent tingles all the way down my spine. He put a hand on my arm and we started down the path.

  John gave way, but only slightly. I was both shocked and terrified when his arm went around my waist, pulling me away from Bruno. John’s passionate magic-laden kiss added shivers to the tingles. He pressed his car keys into my hand. “Be careful. Get out if you need to.” He didn’t look at either Bruno or Matty, just stalked away with intense determination and quickly blended into the crowd of magicians and witches.

  Matty’s brows rose. Bruno was literally speechless, his face completely blank, and I took full advantage of his shock by running away, racing down the pathway past him toward the second right turn, where Alex would be. I needed an armed policeman close by right about now. I tucked the car keys into my back pocket as I went.

  In a sea of black jackets lit with red flashing lights and the fires of hell, it wasn’t too difficult to find one small blonde woman in the uniform of our local finest. “Alex!” I shouted, but she didn’t hear me above the noise of chaos. I pushed my way past both uniformed officers and detectives I’d seen on the street and caught up with her before she disappeared underneath a line of yellow tape. The heat underfoot felt like it was going to melt my shoes any minute. I pulled on her sleeve and she turned.

  “Jesus, Graves. It’s about damned time you got here.” Oh good. I had been hoping her response wasn’t going to be, Someone get her out of here.

  Alex is surprisingly strong for her size. She grabbed me by the arm and pulled me away. It was only when we were safely in a car with the doors locked and windows up that she spoke again, her forehead resting against the steering wheel: “I had no idea how bad this was going to go. They must have known we were coming and waited until we had all of our people positioned around the wall. Then they blew the place using car bombs on the other side of the wall. The press thinks we lost five people. It’s probably closer to fifty. Then the rift opened and … heaven help us, Celia. I don’t know how we’re going to close this thing up.”

  “What have you tried so far?” It’s not like I had any better answers than the experts they’d probably already consulted, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

  She lifted her head and shook it wearily. “We’ve got a ring of warrior priests around the facility, coordinating exorcism rituals. Mages are at work to create a spell that can be simultaneously cast to put a wall around the breech. That will at least keep the demons inside. A few imps have already wormed their way through gaps in the temporary barrier, but sharpshooters armed with silvered holy-water bullets are keeping anything from getting past the second perimeter. If they don’t die of heat prostration first, that is.”

  Wow. I couldn’t think of anything really useful to add. There were already more mages and witches here than I’d ever seen in one place. “What about escapees? Any idea how many got out?”

  She grimaced. “A bunch. We don’t really know how many yet. We might never know because of the blast and the lava. It’ll be nine-eleven all over again, trying to identify fragments by DNA.”

  There was a tap on the driver’s side window and Alex turned. A man I recognized, wearing an FBI jacket, was motioning for her to lower the window. She reached for the handle and started to crank it down. The problem was that I only knew one FBI guy—Rizzoli—and this wasn’t him. It was one of the guards who had been inside the prison, and why he didn’t recognize me I didn’t know. Or maybe he did and was going to get to me through Alex. The police car must be magically spelled so that he couldn’t get inside. But if she opened the window—

  “Alex! Down!” I pulled her by the hair down to the bench seat just as the man reached into the car. I pulled one of my knives and lunged forward over Alex, effectively shielding her with my body. I thrust the knife into his stomach and he screamed. Heads turned at the sound and a dozen people headed our way. But it was too late. If he had been a normal human, he would have fallen to the ground with a horrible gut wound … which could have been treated by the EMTs. And I would have gone to jail.

  But as it was, the lead policeman threw out his arms to stop those behind him when he saw flames lick out of the wound and eat the man alive, leaving only a few tatters of black nylon to float away on the breeze.

  I crawled off Alex and she sat up, one hand to her nose. Blood was running between her fingers and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She didn’t look at me or thank me before she was out of the car. “Davis, go find one of the priests. I want everyone at this site to pass a holy-water test. Barnes, clean up this mess before it infects anyone. I want people in full magical armor from now on. We’ve got rogues among us. LaFuente, find the FBI SitCom and get him over here to see this before we bag it up.” She turned to me and let out a sigh. “Graves, go … just go do whatever you’re going to do. I don’t even want to know how you did that.”

  “No creds,” I said as I got out of the car and stopped, resting my hands on the roof. “I’ll get hauled out of here by my teeth. I need to stick with you. At least you know me.”

  “I know you, too, and trouble isn’t ever far away.” I smiled at the familiar voice. Rizzoli was walking up behind the man Alex had called LaFuente. He stepped lightly over the pile of still-smoldering ash and handed me a piece of plastic over the hood. “Put this on and start ferreting out more of the bad guys. You’ve got talents we don’t. Use them.”

  I looked at the tag he gave me. On one side it bore the seal of the FBI. On the other, underneath the plastic laminate, it said: Celia Graves, Special Consultant.

  “How cool is this!?” I put the little clip on my shirt, unsure which side should show out. “Thanks, Rizzoli.”

  “No,” he said very seriously. “Thank you. There’s a boat captain at Smallmouth
Harbor who was very grateful we showed up last night.”

  My jaw dropped. I’d completely forgotten Maria’s problem with the drug lord. “Did you get him?”

  Rizzoli smiled and it had a satisfying dark edge. “Red-handed. He’ll be behind bars for a very long time. The judge agreed he was a flight risk. No bail.”

  Awesome! “You rule, Rizzoli. So you got promoted to situation commander?”

  Now his expression wasn’t so pleased. The muscles in his cheeks and forehead tightened. “Field promotion … to replace the two guys above me who are in pieces. Now I’m the lucky guy in the line of fire.”

  Ouch. “Sorry. Anything I can do?”

  “Yeah. There is.” He stepped out of the way as a hazmat-suited team came up behind him with a body bag. “You have the strangest group of contacts I’ve ever seen. Call them. See them. Find out why this is happening. I don’t want to know how to seal the rift. There are a thousand people behind me who can do that. I want to know why it’s here—in this place, at this time. There’s never been a problem before at this prison and the area got a seal of approval from the MPRC after a five-year white-paper study. I want to know that when we close the rift it won’t show up somewhere else next week.”

  That was surprisingly forward thinking and I was flattered that he’d asked it of me. Of course, I might be one along with 999 other people whom he’d also asked. But it still felt nice. “You’ve got it. Do you want me to start right now? Because I’d have to leave.” And I didn’t know if I wanted to. There were people here I cared about. Alex and Rizzoli, Matty, Bruno, and, yes, John.

  Wait. When had I started calling him John? I thought back and realized it was right after the grotto. No wonder he’d been smiling in the car. Shit. Still, there were demons afoot, plus vampires and werewolves who might well be lurking in the shadows, waiting to pick off stray cops who wandered off to take a leak.