by G A Chase
Sere leaned forward as well. “Can you blame them?”
“Hey, now. Before I met you, I lived a very respectable life—father, husband, and upstanding member of the business community.”
“Before you met me, you were practically a hobbit.”
His laugh had a way of easing her heart’s worries. “Maybe so. Being the sidekick to a superhero does have its moments. Not that anyone would believe the stories even if I could tell them.”
He did need protection. If Sere thought they could handle it, she would give everyone she knew a box of supernatural shotgun shells. “I’ve got a single-barrel blaster in my office as backup. You can use that. I’ll throw in a box of hell’s shells and a box of paranormal half loads. After your run-in with Thomas, it seemed prudent to prepare some ammunition that would equally affect the living and the demonic.”
A copy of the Times Picayune lay open on Sere’s desk. She sat back in her chair, feeling like a real businesswoman, as she opened the paper. The story she both searched for and dreaded was on page three: “Mother Finds Lost Child in Jackson Park.”
“Fuck.” Sere looked across her desk to make sure she hadn’t once again depressed the intercom button by mistake. Then she laid the paper flat on the desk and began reading.
“Mrs. Jennifer Cranston of Kenner first heard of her missing son at 9:00 p.m. last night when she returned home to find a police cruiser parked in front of her house. The boy had been reported missing by the school authorities after the bus he was riding in returned to the yard without a record of him disembarking. In a state of panic, Mrs. Cranston ran from her house, yelling for her son.”
Sensationalist, irresponsible bullshit reporting. Sere read on, trying not to let her disgust with the news profession get the better of her.
“Her motherly instinct paid off. Bobby Cranston had snuck out of the bus on a whim and nearly drowned while playing hooky.”
He wasn’t playing hooky, and he didn’t almost drown, you asswipe reporter.
“Mrs. Cranston was still in a state of shock when this reporter was finally able to get a few words. ‘I never understood what people meant about having an out-of-body experience. I sure do now. It was like I was watching my actions from some observation room. I didn’t even know I had that level of bravery in me. I guess it’s true—a mother’s love can make a woman do all kinds of things she didn’t think were possible.’”
Sere folded the paper and stashed it in the bottom drawer of the desk. It was fucking real. Goddamn that loa asshole. But of greater concern than the dream’s basis in reality was whatever had tempted Bobby off the bus. A guy with a gun who ran off and a rabbit that transformed into a man… these were not normal occurrences. Either the loas or the damned had tricked Bobby.
But maybe it had just been to test her. Sere felt the familiar raised hair on the back of the neck that told her she was missing something important.
25
Chapter 13
Each time the brittle speaker on Sere’s desk crackled to life, she cringed. At least Linda is toying with the button first instead of making me jump out of my skin.
“Miss Sere, there’s a man here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment.”
One of your cardinal sins, Sere thought. Having the receptionist ask his name or get any pertinent information would just drag out the inevitable meeting. “Go ahead and send him in.”
The bartender of Bubba’s Bar and Grill filled the small doorway with his broad shoulders. “Rampart Thibodaux.” He extended his hand as if this were their first meeting. Sere wasn’t sure if Bart was just being overly obnoxious or if he thought he was saving her from the nosy receptionist’s prying questions.
She shook his hand, unsure of what else to do. “That’s a mouthful.”
His dreamy-eyed smile and raised eyebrow made her realize she’d stepped into a double-entendre trap. “You have no idea.”
She wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand so easily. She let her gaze fall from his eyes to directly on the bulge in his tight leather riding pants. “I don’t know about that. You don’t leave much to a woman’s imagination.”
He wasn’t coy in allowing himself the same visual caress along her body. In any case, he already knew what she looked like naked. “Fortunately for me, I have a remarkably good memory,” he said.
Sere knew when she was outmatched in terms of sexual innuendo. She stood aside so he could enter and get out of Linda’s not-so-subtle inspection of his backside. Dirty old woman—though I can hardly blame you.
Sere turned her attention back to Bart. “So you’ve finally decided saving the world is more important than popping open beer bottles for a bunch of lazy drunks?” she asked as she shut the door.
He sat in the guest chair and kicked his leather boots up onto her desk. “Not the whole world—just your scrawny ass.”
There it is. Now we’re back to the snarky banter. She sat behind her desk like the professional she was supposed to be. “I’m fully aware that I’m in hell’s crosshairs. Tell me something I don’t know.”
He stretched out on the chair and clasped his hands behind his head as if he owned the place. “I had four new customers at the bar last night. Those demons hold their alcohol about as well as freshman girls at a frat party. From their loud conversations, I gathered it’s not really you they’re after.” In spite of his casual stance, the even tone of his voice conveyed the grave importance of his words, even though she missed his point.
“Come again?”
“Actually, I guess it is the real you. I overheard them talking about Jennifer Ellen—”
“Fucking Cranston!” The colors in Sere’s office faded to shades of red. “So that’s what those assgängers are up to.” She looked at Bart out of the corner of her eye. “How did you know about my connection to Jennifer?”
“You did tell me you were a doppelgänger. That meant you had to have a real person around here somewhere.”
Though it involved trusting Bart with even more personal information, she couldn’t let the half-truth stand. I need him to know. “Only my body is doppelgänger. Unlike these demonic marionettes from hell, I have a soul as well.”
He stared at her as if she’d just opened her shirt and flashed him her breasts. “Sounds like an intriguing story for another time. When those demonic idiots kept fixating on the same person, it wasn’t hard to figure out the connection. After all, who’s a bigger threat to them than you? But just to make sure, I stopped by Joe’s cabin on my way down here. From the worried look he failed to hide, I knew this was important.”
“So they want to kill Jennifer,” Sere said.
She really wished it was Joe sitting across the desk, delivering the bad news, but he was probably doing his thing behind the scenes. But the ramifications, though bad, weren’t as disastrous as Bart might think. Professor Yates had already indicated that he had enough data on the woman to keep Sere going indefinitely, even if her physical options might be a bit limited. I would be free of her, but healing would take a lot longer. Though the logical and tactical assessment eased Sere’s personal worries, she couldn’t shake the look in Bobby’s big brown eyes when he saw her running to his rescue. I can’t have that boy grow up without a mother because of me.
“I never heard the word kill,” Bart said, interrupting her thoughts. “They just wanted to find her.”
Shit. Having demons abduct Jennifer could be worse than having them kill her.
“What did Joe say when you told him what you’d heard?” she asked.
“To get my ass down here as soon as possible. Mind telling me why this woman is in so much danger?”
“Because she’s an idiot.” Sere’s assessment was based less on emotion than practicality. “When I told Fisher that he had a double that was out to kill him, the man took the information in stride. We were able to formulate a plan, no thanks to your interference.” She could tell from Bart’s tensed muscles he was about to debate her conclusion so she hurr
ied on without giving him an opening. “If we tell Jennifer someone’s out to harm her, the woman will go running to the cops or tell her husband and end up in the insane asylum or do some other dumb-ass move I can’t anticipate. She’s like a little bunny. Tell her the big bad wolf is after her, and she’ll hop around screaming the news to everyone she sees.”
Bart unclasped his hands from behind his head and rubbed the Navy SEAL tattoo on his arm, a sure sign that his military training was kicking in—Joe had the same unconscious tic when stressed. “So we have to covertly protect her. Anything else I need to know?”
Sere wondered how long it would be before she divulged all of her personal secrets. Fuck it. I have to trust someone.
“I can’t be in the same place with her,” she said. “The dangers to both of us aren’t fully known, but they’re bad.”
With his feet still on her desk, he rocked the chair back and forth on its back legs. “I was there when you decapitated Monty. I saw what it did to Fisher. So that’s the challenge: protect your real without her knowing about it. What are our resources?”
His confidence, though naïve, gave her a little spark of hope, but she couldn’t put him in direct danger. Plus, he knew enough about her already and didn’t need to poke around the woman who gave her substance just to gain information. Since she looked like Sere, he would probably flirt with her out of habit, and Jennifer was just cock hungry enough to fall for him.
“You seem to think this is a we operation.”
He bent his knees as if about to bolt for the door and dropped the chair’s front feet to the floor with a loud crash. “This is not the time for you to pull your I can do it on my own attitude. Tell me to leave, and I’m gone.”
She needed help, and there weren’t many who had the skill set to face combat. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” The words nearly made her choke, but she got them out.
The harsh lines around his deep-set brown eyes softened. “I’m on your side, Sere. You don’t have to push everyone who cares about you away.”
Now you’re sounding like Baron Samedi.
“Just don’t try to take the lead,” she said. “You don’t know what we’re facing.”
“Fair enough, so long as you realize that my military skills surpass yours. That’s not a cut against Joe’s training. Honestly, that man has experienced more combat than I ever will. But what you know is based on computer simulations, one-on-one training, and fooling around in the swamp like a river otter. My skills have been forged in battle. That’s not something that can be replicated.”
The long-winded defense of his abilities almost made her smile. He’s trying so hard to convince me of his value.
“This may come as a surprise, but I never doubted your abilities.” She resisted the temptation to compare him to Joe. Other than that aging commando, she couldn’t think of anyone she’d rather have on her side, but Bart didn’t need any more of an ego boost. “Have you had any update from the bikers or hunters?”
Please tell me your bar was those demonic fuckers’ first stop.
“You mean in the twenty-four hours since my cousin stopped by?”
She couldn’t believe it had only been a day since the cop had introduced himself. “Things happen fast with those demons, in case you’ve forgotten,” she said.
“You’re not wrong there.” He finally put his feet on the floor and leaned over the desk, looking ready to get to work. “According to the questionable information exchange, yesterday was a fucking bloodbath in the swamp. I was hoping to enlist Joe to come down here so I could confirm the swamp rumors, but he said I was better off seeing you in person.”
Fuck you, Joe. Paramilitary matchmaking meddler.
Bart continued on, not being privy to her inner tirade. “I didn’t want to show up with gossip, but it sounds like only half of the hunters made it back to the dock last night. Whether the others encountered some mysterious boogeymen, got eaten by revenge-seeking gators, or simply drifted off toward the deep swamp to see things for themselves is anyone’s guess. Riley’s is closed out of respect for the dead. First time that’s ever happened.”
“That explains why the demons hit your bar instead of Riley’s. Is there any way you could prevail on your cousin to find out what really happened out there?”
Bart gave her the same laser-sharp stare Joe used when he knew Sere was leaving out some vital bit of information. “Why?”
Do they teach you guys that stare in the military or something? Jeez. “Like your rumor,” she said, “it’s not a threat that I have well identified at this point. Until I do, I’d rather keep it to myself, but any demon-on-human killing might be important to know about.”
He sat upright like a military commander awaiting orders. “So where do we start?”
The man wasn’t all talk. Sere felt instantly gratefully. “If the demons are clear of the swamp, they’ll be headed this way as quickly as possible. Since you met the doppelgängers at your bar and Joe hasn’t checked in, I have to believe they’re somewhere between the two locations. I’m going after them. I’m done playing defense. I just hope I’m not too late.”
“You don’t think they just took the boats back out to the swamp? It’d be a whole lot easier to escape detection out on the water.”
“I don’t for two reasons. First, we’re talking serial killers here, not a military strike force. They’ll be looking to create as much carnage as possible on their way to the city. And second, each of those demons’ reals would be city folk. Their natural inclination will be to look at those maps to parallel the closest roads. Even in their boats, they’ll stay close to shore.”
He got out of the chair and hitched his tight leather pants up snug to his hips, making the bulge in the middle all the more prominent. “I’m going with you.”
Part of her wanted to protect the big brute, but the tactician in her knew he was her best bet in a fight. Fuck it. My track record against these demons on my own isn’t the best.
“I’d appreciate the company,” she said.
“What do you want to do about Jennifer? You must have someone down here who can play babysitter.”
Sere grabbed the single-barrel shotgun from the corner of her office. “Fisher is about as kindly and nonthreatening a person as I’ve met. Plus, he has the ability to detect the demons when they’re present, and he’s more than proven his bravery.”
Ann’s going to kill me.
Bart responded slowly. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “I thought you didn’t trust Jennifer with the truth. Even with that scattergun, Fisher’s not going to be a match for four demons.”
“I’ll tell him to keep his distance. This gun will just be for protection. If the demons get past us, then he can approach Jennifer. Between Kendell, her crew, and the homeless population in New Orleans, Jennifer should be safe until one of us reaches her.”
Assuming the demons haven’t killed us both.
“That secures our asset and gives us our hunting grounds,” Bart said. “Where does Joe fit in?”
She wondered if the question was strategic or personal. You want us to face this danger together—just the two of us? That might be the most romantic innuendo you’ve made to me.
“He has hidden caches all along the swamp highway,” she said. “Many of them double as backup command centers. He can provide coordination and, if need be, a first line of defense should we fail.”
As she holstered her four-barrel shotgun, Bart checked his weapons. “Guess it’s time to ride. You do remember our agreement?”
“When it comes to military action,” she said, “you’re in charge.”
26
Chapter 14
Out on the freeway, Sere—on her Triton café racer—settled in behind Bart’s Ducati Monster. Though following was never her preferred position, even at full throttle, her little motorcycle was no match for the high-performance beast. This isn’t a race. She consoled her slightly bruised ego by staring at his mus
cular ass. Like a poker player’s tell, he broadcast every movement of the bike by first flexing the corresponding butt cheek.
By the time they’d left the crowded freeway for the rural highway, she had each of his motorcycle moves figured out. On a long, gentle curve, she cut tight inside his line and gave her little Triton all it could handle. Her smaller, lighter bike shot past his larger one like a fighter jet buzzing a cargo plane. The sound of his Ducati revving up in frustration was music to her ears. Let’s see how you like following my ass for a change.
The game of motorcycle superiority kept Sere from obsessing about the demons that lay ahead, but when she swung her bike onto the dirt road leading to Joe’s cabin, she realized she should have stayed focused on the mission. A set of BSA tire tracks cut through the dust straight at her like a warning signal. She veered off the road into the grassy field and waved at Bart to follow.
He pulled up beside her and yanked off his black helmet. “What the hell?”
She nodded toward the road. “Those tracks are from Joe’s motorcycle. Something’s wrong.”
“Maybe he just went out to get some smokes.”
Sere got off her bike and crept toward the road to avoid disturbing the evidence. “Joe doesn’t smoke.”
“You know what I mean.” Bart got off, too, but stayed behind her.
She pointed at the deep groove the bike had made when hitting a right-hand turn at high speed. “He’s not that reckless. Either someone was chasing him, or he was in pursuit.”
Bart tossed his helmet onto the seat of his bike and pulled the gun from the back of his pants. “Only one way to find out.”
She pulled her shotgun and checked the chambered shells. Two half-and-half loads and two full paranormal rounds. “Joe’s cabin is practically my second home. You take the road approach, and I’ll sneak around from the back. If you see anyone but Joe, don’t hesitate to shoot. You won’t get many chances. That peashooter of yours will only slow a demon down. You’re going to need one of those lovely knives of yours to finish it off.”