by G A Chase
He patted the Buck knife at his hip. “You don’t have to remind me. Seeing you cut Monty’s head off isn’t something I’m likely to forget. I’ll work my way along the opposite side of the road and take a position across from the front door. Once I hear you enter the cabin, I’ll make my assault.”
Once Bart was safely across the road, Sere started investigating the grass field. No tracks. Not even a snake on patrol. I wonder what Joe would have to say about that.
Instead of taking the direct path toward the cabin, she used the trees for cover and angled down to the river. If there had been a battle, the demons would have used a water approach, and Joe would have disabled every boat he could.
Nothing. Not even a muddy boot print. If they came this way, they were trying to surprise him. Something must have provoked Joe, though, or he would have gotten word to me that the demons had crossed his path before trying to engage them.
She snuck up under the raised deck that projected from the cabin out over the river. The pine-needle-covered yard beside the building looked messy, as though someone had been rolling around in the dirt. They never made it into your house. She got down on her knees to read the signs of battle.
Before she could get close to the first body-sized imprint, a hand gripped her hair and yanked her head back hard. Not leaving her time to react, a knife slashed across her throat. How could I be so stupid? She only hoped that wouldn’t be her final thought.
A gunshot from the corner of the house hit her shoulder, corkscrewing her away from the blade as it came in for a second pass. The momentum ripped her hair out of assailant’s hand. Instinctively, she grasped her neck to stem the bleeding and grabbed her knife out of her boot to counterattack.
The demon came at her from the front, slashing at her throat, but armed and ready this time, she drove her blade straight up under his chin, catching the edge of his knife on her forearm. His sharp edge cut through her muscles clear to the bone.
“You’re not going to win,” she rasped past the cut to her throat. She needed to keep pressing her advantage. Sere extended her damaged arm to shove her combat knife through the roof of his mouth and as deep into his brain as she could go. That still won’t kill him.
The thick curved blade of Bart’s Buck knife, coated in blood, cleaved through the demon’s neck, leaving it impaled on Sere’s knife like a candy apple on a stick.
As the doppelgänger’s body crumpled to the ground, she saw Bart standing behind it, sweaty and blood splattered. The muscular bartender yanked off his riding jacket and ripped his shirt to ribbons like a shifter about to change into his animal double. “Don’t panic. I’ve got you.” He grasped her hand and pulled it away from her throat while wrapping the strips of his shirt around the wound. “I need to get you into the cabin. Joe has a med kit for you in the bedroom.”
I’ll bet he told you all of his secret locations. Fucker wouldn’t even tell me, but he tells you? The anger energized her enough to accept Bart’s arms around her body. Blood from her arm and shoulder soaked into the bustier. I am not going to die.
He jostled her in his arms as he ran for the front door. “You’re losing a lot of blood. Even with what Joe told me about your anatomy, we’re going to have to get you stable before hooking you up to Jennifer.”
She tried to focus on what he was saying, but forming a response would have been beyond her mental ability even if she’d been able vocalize it past her severed larynx. He laid her on the bed before pulling out the steamer trunk from underneath. She reached for the technology-laced bandage that he’d so casually tossed beside her. Dummy. That’s what you wrap around my neck. What do you think you’re doing?
He stood up with a section of plastic hose wrapped tightly around his bicep. “Fortunately for you, I’m a universal blood donor.”
You’re a universal idiot, she wanted to say, but all that came out of her throat was a gurgling sound.
With his knife, he cut a notch in his arm then pushed another section of tubing into the incision. He fed the other end into the open gash on her forearm. With enough bandage to wrap a mummy, he finally stopped the blood that was rushing out of her like a river’s open spillway.
“With all the blood that you’ve lost, it shouldn’t be too hard for me to pump you back up.” He flexed his arm hard, forcing the thick red liquid into her.
She couldn’t turn away from his face. Between his lifeblood being forced into her, his heaving muscles, and most of all, his intense look of satisfaction, she could well imagine what he looked like during sex. You’re enjoying saving my life far too much. Her heart returned to its normal beat as blood again filled the arteries.
He kept pumping while looking into her eyes. “There’s the angry glare I’ve been waiting for. How about we give this technology stuff a go?” Without leaning over and disrupting the flow of blood, he pulled the connecting wires out from the trunk. “I know you can’t talk, and I can’t risk you deepening that cut along your neck by you moving your head, so just blink once for yes and two for no.” He held up the wires. “The bandage at your throat is wrapped on top of my shirt. I don’t want to undo it as you’ll start bleeding out again, and I don’t know how long you need to be connected to heal. Can I leave the cloth the way it is and just plug you in?”
How the hell am I supposed to know? She blinked once. Anything beat not being able to tell him off. At the very least, her arm would heal so she could punch him in the gut.
“Right. Joe said his computer communicates over old telephone cables down to New Orleans. I need to run these wires to the next room. Just lie still for a moment.”
Sere didn’t even get a second to adjust to being inside Jennifer’s body. The woman was completely out of breath. Her legs were pumping like she was sprinting the final leg of a marathon. Stumbling on the uneven terrain in the dark, she kept turning her head as if unsure of where to go.
“Why are you chasing me?” Jennifer screamed.
Shit. I’m too late to stop those fucking demons, Sere thought. Look around, woman. I need to make my assessment. But Jennifer just kept running like some dimwit in a cheesy horror story. How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know for sure who you’re running from?
Nothing Sere thought seemed to matter. Fuck Professor Yates and his equipment! The check valves were doing their job of ensuring that Sere siphoned off the energy she needed without taking over the woman’s life.
“Jennifer, stop,” a voice yelled from behind her. “We’re trying to help you.”
That sounds like Joe. For the love of God, woman, let me get a look at what’s going on around you.
Jennifer turned at the waist to see if her pursuer was gaining on her. The movement wasted a great deal of her momentum. Joe! That’s Joe, you fool. He’s here to help you. Just stop. You’re going to be okay.
Even with the not-so-quick look behind her, Sere was able to make out the man in a white seersucker suit far behind the dude dressed in black military garb chasing Jennifer. Of course, Fisher would be trying to help. Damn it, you’re not in danger.
But Sere’s assessment of Jennifer’s safety was only based on who was following her. The woman wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and tripped over the same tree root Bobby had used as protection. Instead of splashing into the river, however, she tumbled into the swamp boat.
The sound of the outboard firing up drowned out the yelling of the men trying to save her. She edged toward the front of the boat to get as far away as possible from the men in pursuit.
“Thank you so much. I don’t know what’s going on. Can you take me to the police?” She looked up at the faces of the three men in the boat. Each had blood flowing from knife wounds to their faces and necks. Jennifer screamed so loudly that Sere felt as if she were being expelled from the woman’s mouth.
Sere opened her eyes to see Bart sitting, covered in blood and half-naked, on the bed next to her with the wires in his hand. “You were screaming. That didn’t seem like the best i
dea with that cut around your throat.”
She put her hand to her neck and carefully moved her head from side to side. The wound had healed, but from just the gentle movement, she could tell talking wasn’t going to be much fun. “They have her.”
He dropped the cables and helped her up to the sitting position. “What did you see?”
“The fool fell right into their boat.” Sere said, though she was in no position to judge. After all, she had just run straight into the doppelgängers’ trap herself.
He unwrapped the cloth from her arm and eased the transfusion tube out of the sealed gash. “You’re still in rough shape, but at least the flesh has closed up.”
She pointed at his muscular arm with the tube still in place. “Why?”
He held up the line, which was still coated red on the inside. “When Joe was teaching me about your situation, he was very clear on one point: if you were facing immediate death, you would be too weak for the psychic link. You’d have to heal the slow way, and right now, we don’t have that kind of time. I took a calculated risk.”
She was still too weak to stand, and between Bart’s blood and Jennifer’s energy, she was a little mentally wobbly as well. “What happened?”
“Looks like they left one of their members behind as an assassin in case you happened to show up.”
With each breath, she felt her strength and sense of identity return. “I saw the other three. They weren’t in very good shape. Joe must have done considerable damage in the fight. The guy outside might have been hurt badly enough that the others would have considered him a liability.” The words taxed her throat, but giving in to her physical limitation wasn’t in her nature.
“Would he have had enough time to heal before we got here?”
“Apparently.” Sere felt along the scar on her arm. Bart’s blood was like vodka mixed into a Bloody Mary: only detectable as a lightheaded realization that things were about to get dangerous. “We need to help save Jennifer.”
“How do you propose doing that? You’re too weak to ride, let alone fight. I know you heal fast, but getting back to fighting strength is a different story. Do you even know where she is?”
Sere really wanted to get up and kick his ass, but unfortunately, he was right. Fuck, Joe. Did you have to tell him about all of my vulnerabilities? “They were in a johnboat headed back toward the swamp. Joe and Fisher were in pursuit, but they were on foot.”
Bart stopped filling the steamer trunk and stared out toward the water. “They could be headed back this way. You said you and Jennifer couldn’t be in the same place at the same time. How bad would it be if that did happen?”
“Best case, Jennifer ends up thinking she has a twin sister no one told her about. Worst case, we open the hellmouth for all the demons to escape.”
Bart turned to her with wide eyes. “That would be bad.”
“I’m joking. Even if Professor Yates didn’t have security features in place regarding his projections, me meeting Jennifer wouldn’t bring about the apocalypse.”
“That’s not funny.”
Watching your reaction was, she thought. But she could see that from his perspective, all hell being set loose probably wouldn’t be a laughing matter. “I’ll try to be more understanding of your mortal sensitivities.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that our enemies are probably barreling down on us as we speak, and we’re kind of on our own out here.”
She ran over the list of potential allies and known foes. “Even if I could bribe the gator hunters to be on my side, they aren’t going to risk the swamp after losing so many of their comrades. I can’t trust your biker friends to be of much help, plus they’re too far away. We don’t have the time or transportation to call in Lefty’s alligator navy. That pretty much just leaves Joe and whoever he was able to round up. He’s like a bloodhound—he won’t stop until he’s found his prey—but the demons have a pretty big head start and maps of the swamp.”
Bart turned back to the water as if he expected to see the doppelgängers’ boat far out on the horizon. “And you’re in no condition to hunt for them even if we did have a way out there.” He flexed his ass as if getting ready to sprint toward the end of the dock.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “and the answer is no. I’m not letting you go out there alone. I know I said you were in charge of all things militarily tactical, but going out there without backup is just foolish, even for a Navy SEAL.”
He nodded. “I know.” He finally turned to her. “What kind of hairbrained scheme have you come up with?”
She rubbed the sides of her arms to increase her circulation. “We can’t be positive this is where they’re headed. Just because it makes sense to me doesn’t mean the doppelgängers will follow my logic. They don’t even know for certain this is where we are. You’re really going to hate this a lot, but do you think you could give me a ride out to the closest of Joe’s hidden caches?”
“Beats sitting around here on the sidelines, waiting to be attacked.”
“You’re really not going to tell me your plan?” Bart asked as he straddled his Ducati.
Sere climbed on the miniature back seat behind him, pressed her legs to his, and wrapped her arms around his blood-soaked leather jacket. “Just get me to the cache. Once we’re safe, I’ll lay it out, but you’re not going to like it.”
“Each time you say that, I reconsider blindly going along with whatever you have in mind. I’m only taking you out there because I’m convinced the demons are coming for you, and Joe’s is the logical place for them to start.” He fired up the Monster and let the clutch out. The tire under Sere’s ass spewed rocks into the trees with more violence than her shotgun.
As far as she was concerned, straddling her motorcycle and tearing off down the winding country roads was about the best experience life had to offer. Being at the mercy of another rider, however, was one of the worst. At least Bart knows what he’s doing. She leaned forward and cuddled her cheek to the back of his broad shoulders in an attempt at making the best of the situation. Pressing her crotch against his muscular ass while straddling the intensely vibrating engine had its advantages.
Like the man himself, the bike required plenty of room to maneuver. Though it wasn’t how she handled her more agile Triton, the way he took the corners in wide sweeping curves exhibited a gentle, understated command. She could easily envision falling asleep nestled in his strength.
He took a tight turn onto a dirt road and craned his head around to her. “Joe said the cache was off this unmarked road. He made me memorize the Google image. Any idea what we’re looking for?”
She lifted her head off his back like a child waking up from a nap. She had to arch her body up along his to look over his shoulder at the road ahead. “Look for something abandoned. He’s a big fan of old shipping containers, but don’t get too hung up on size.”
Bart took his hand off the handlebar and pointed toward the far end of a lagoon. “Like an old half-submerged school bus?”
Sere had hoped for a less challenging approach. “Yeah, that would be something Joe would pick.”
Bart pulled the Ducati behind a briar patch and shut down the engine. “Guess we’re going to have to swim for it.”
She hopped off the back of the bike, rejuvenated from the ride. “Wish I’d brought my saddlebags.” She unbuckled her holster and bullet belt. Get my clothes wet, or let Bart see me naked again? She waited for his lead.
He stretched his legs and lifted his crotch from the metal gas tank. Having a passenger, even one as small as Sere, meant he’d been forced hard against the unyielding vibration. She bit her lip as she checked out how large the bulge in his pants had grown. That has to hurt.
As if oblivious to her stare, he pulled off his already-ruined leather jacket and tossed it onto the motorcycle seat. With one lascivious look into her eyes, he unzipped his leather pants. “I’m game if you are.”
Fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen m
e naked before. She unfastened the front metal clasps of her leather bustier and exposed her small breasts to the warm night air—and to Bart’s gaze. “I’m not doing a striptease for you. We have demons to kill.” Even as she said that, she kind of hoped he’d take his time. I’ve got a right to enjoy seeing him strip for the first time.
He didn’t even try being discreet as he stared at her. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, there’s no point in denying life’s little pleasures when they present themselves.” He pulled the front of his skintight pants out beyond the bulge and yanked them to the ground. The powerhouse muscles of his legs put his arms to shame.
She found it hard to simultaneously breathe and control the saliva that filled her mouth. Okay, that’s one tight body. I can be forgiven for leering a little. She was so mesmerized by his physique, and by the throbbing cock in his shorts, that she barely noticed her hands pulling off her tights. She waited to see how far he’d take the dangerous game. His removal of the pair of expensive leather riding pants was necessary, but dropping the black mesh briefs would be an act of pure vanity. That thing looks downright disposable.
He nearly tore the underwear down his legs. She stood stone-still, staring at his Adonis-like body. The doppelgängers she’d chosen for sexual exploits in hell had nothing on Rampart Thibodaux.
“Wow.” The word just escaped her mouth as if she’d exhaled it.
“I’m glad you approve. Now, as you said, we’ve got demons to kill.”
And you’d do a damn fine job of it with that shaft.
Feeling self-conscious about being the straggler, she shimmied her panties off and laid them over the rest of her clothing on the motorcycle seat. “Time to get to work. Joe likes rigging his caches with booby traps, so watch what you touch.” To Sere’s ears, every word that came out of her mouth sounded suggestive.