by G A Chase
“A truce between us doesn’t do me much good if all of your asshole gator-hunting customers are out to get me. Last I heard, most of the Northshore is forming lynch mobs to go after the alligators that took out dozens of hunters, and I’m just sure everyone holds me responsible for organizing the attack. They probably got that idea from you.”
Riley leaned against the wall. Blood covered her stomach, turning the waist of her skimpy white shorts dark red. “Can you blame them? You did come riding in from the swamp on that thirty-foot monster with a dozen of his prize-sized friends tailing you.”
The woman had a point. All that Sere had accomplished by revealing the existence of Lefty, her gator friend from hell, was confirming to the hunters that there was something worth pursuing in the deep swamp.
“I was trying to warn them against hunting close to the hell mouth. In spite of the human casualties, the alligators were never the real problem. All those greedy bastards managed to do was provide their boats as transportation for the demons back to town. And you expect me to step back into that war zone? Bart’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Riley wrapped what little there was of her cropped vintage-punk T-shirt around her arm. Her braless boobs pressed even harder against the stretched fabric. The faded image of Sid Vicious didn’t look very dangerous as he stared at Riley’s projecting nipple—more like a nerdy kid ogling his first breast.
“You’re not fooling me,” Riley said. “I know you’ve got a thing for that hot heroic hunk of man meat. The only thing you’d like better than being swept up into his arms is to be the one doing the rescuing.”
Sere wondered if she was going to have to reevaluate Riley. The woman clearly understood her better than she’d realized. “Other than not filling me full of lead next time we meet, do you have any intention of helping?”
“I suppose I could run a commemorative-drink special for the gator hunters’ fallen comrades. It wouldn’t take a lot to get that posse so wasted they forget their mission. Of course, if you make it known you’re up there, you’re on your own.”
“I’ll take what I can get.” Sere finally wiped her knife clean on her jeans and returned it to her boot. “I’ve got a med kit around here somewhere for our wounds.”
Riley shook her head. “I’ll be fine, and from what I’ve heard and seen firsthand, a couple of shotgun pellets in your ass aren’t going to slow you down either. Mind telling your pets to let me have my gun back?”
One rattler coiled his body under the barrel like a spring. His head rested over the top like he was taking aim. His companion wound under the trigger guard like he was about to fire the weapon.
“They’re free agents,” Sere said, “and it looks like they want to hang onto your weapon. A snake never knows when he’s going to need a little firepower.”
It wasn’t until the entry door downstairs slammed shut that Sere’s two snakes slithered off of Riley’s rifle.
“What the hell?” Sere yelled at them. “You two getting so fat and lazy hanging around Frenchmen Street eating big old rats every day you can’t keep a scrawny barmaid out of my loft? If a girl can’t trust her cold-blooded companions, who can she trust?”
They slinked toward the motorcycle bags on the bed as if the earlier shotgun blast had been the call to a new adventure. Sere grabbed her gun from the corner and tossed the saddlebags containing her reptilian friends over her shoulder. “I can’t ride with these pellets in my ass, and wandering the streets, bleeding, is going to be a little conspicuous. But there’s no point in wasting time making another trip to the loft.” She checked her analogue wristwatch. “A little before four in the morning—Myles and Kendell should still be cleaning up downstairs. I suppose I should let them in on the latest disaster.”
She hobbled down the two stories to the street. Adrenaline could carry her through the most intense battle, but without the natural drug, her body registered every ache and pain more than ever. I really don’t want to see Professor Yates again and have him confirm that there’s something wrong with me.
She kept her bleeding hip to the wall as she left her entrance and scooched open the door to the closed Scratchy Dog nightclub.
Kendell looked up from wiping down the bar. “Again? Please tell me this latest injury was just from you cleaning your gun.” Kendell had stopped trying to offer sympathy for Sere’s injuries, and Sere didn’t understand that kind of talk anyway.
“I had a surprise visitor upstairs.”
The club owner lifted the hinged section of counter. “Do I need to have Myles pull out the bleach and tarps?”
The couple hadn’t yet needed to dispose of any doppelgänger bodies, since so far, no one had run across any of Sere’s defeated opponents. “We settled our differences amicably this time. I just need a lift to the professor’s lab for a quick body repair.”
“You make it sound like you were in a fender bender.” Kendell pulled at the side of Sere’s jeans. “I’ll have Myles bring the VW to the front. I swear, girl, you must never have to do laundry. Each time you get a new outfit, it invariably ends up shot full of holes, covered in blood, or stinking of swamp water.”
Sere shrugged. “At least I don’t have to worry about my wardrobe going out of style.”
“Feel like telling me about your latest trouble, or are Myles and I just supposed to wait until all hell breaks loose again?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.”
At least explaining her situation to the couple meant Sere didn’t have to face the new physical limitations that really worried her. She’d really hoped to put off meeting with the professor and Polly for a little while longer. But maybe with the others present, the scientist and his assistant would stick to healing Sere’s latest injury and not get into the bigger problem of what was happening to her body.
30
Chapter 2
Sere knew Polly was pissed from the way the woman locked eyes with her and didn’t even glance at her damaged hip. “I’m guessing you’re not angry at me because I woke you up at this ungodly hour,” Sere said. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop by earlier, but I haven’t had a lot of time.”
The former bandleader glanced around the professor’s office. “I just thought you might prefer to deal with this in private.”
Sere half sat on the end of the table to take the pressure off her hip. “I already know what you’re going to tell me, so the only ones in the room who don’t know are Myles and Kendell. Let me save you the trouble. Bart gave me a blood transfusion. He didn’t have a choice as I’d lost a lot of blood and Jennifer was still in danger. I needed to heal as quickly as possible. So now I have a part of him in my doppelgänger body. I’ve been shot enough times to know the drill. You have to remove the foreign material before you can hook me up to Jennifer so I can draw on her energy. Blood, though, isn’t something that can just be siphoned out of me. How am I doing so far?”
The professor nodded. His downcast eyes and tented fingers indicated the grave nature of her condition. “His blood contains human DNA.”
“Right.” Sere knew what was coming next—it was time to rip off the emotional bandage. “So I’m no longer immortal, but it’s not that big a deal. If I’d lived a thousand years and now had to face a new mortality, I might be more freaked out. I just want to know if I’ll live a normal amount of time or if there’s some paranormal calculation based on the amount of his blood that’s in me.”
“What are you talking about?” Polly asked. Sere had expected the question, just not from the professor’s assistant.
“Isn’t that the big dark secret you wanted to tell me in private?” Sere asked. “Human DNA degrades, and Bart’s is now a part of me. Ever since the transfusion, I’ve felt hunger, sleepiness, and increased pain. I never had to deal with these human conditions while purely Jennifer’s projected doppelgänger.”
The professor leaned back in his Barcalounger. “Polly, make a note: drama queen is apparently another side effect of human blood.�
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The woman glared at the old scientist. “Be nice. Can’t you see how this has been eating at her?” She turned back to Sere. “Like it or not, you are still immortal. As you’ve noticed, however, the foreign body matter inside you has created some changes when it comes to projecting your real onto you. You’re no longer strictly based on her existence. That was what I wanted to talk to you about before you leapt to conclusions. With the DNA as a guide for our projections, you’ll be feeling more what it is to be human. You still don’t need to eat or sleep. Naturally, our projection of Jennifer’s body into hell and then through the gate to you will continue. You’re still at least ninety percent doppelgänger. Having human blood in you isn’t going to automatically give you a living body.”
Sere wasn’t sure how to feel. She considered being immortal the way a celebrity might think of being famous—it was a curse most people thought they wanted until it was actually theirs. If having Bart’s blood inside her had somehow made her susceptible to his charms, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to face him, which would be a problem when it came to his rescue.
“So other than having cravings, what can I expect?”
The professor brought up Sere’s projection screen on his computer. “With your soul, you already experience a sense of identity independent of Jennifer Cranston. This latest development will probably create a similar distinction with her body.” He turned away from his computer and pointed at her bleeding hip. “Which brings us to today. Since you’re here, I assume you’re on another save-all-humanity mission and can’t wait to heal normally. Once we dig out the pellets, we’ll hook you up as usual. The repair sequence shouldn’t change, though it might take a little longer. However, what you experience inside Jennifer might.”
“What about my situation with Bart?” Sere hated asking the question, but if she was going to save the muscular bartender, she needed to be aware of any new vulnerabilities. To her relief, no one laughed at her or treated her like a teenager with a crush.
“Transferring bodily fluid isn’t like sharing emotional energy,” Professor Yates said. “It’s not like he was psychically hooked up to you.”
No, she thought, but he did have his shirt around my neck with the technological bandage wrapped around it when he hooked me up to Jennifer. Combined with his blood in my veins, that had to have some effect.
However, she didn’t really want to argue that such a union was possible. With so much of her existence known and analyzed by the people in the room, having something personal was a rarity she chose to cherish rather than dig into. “Well, let’s get this over with. I’ve got a bartender to save and some demons to kill.”
Sere kept silent and tried to focus on nothing at all. Unfortunately, Jennifer was doing the same. The spatula in the woman’s hand tilted, threatening to lose its grip on the hot chocolate-chip cookie.
Fuck. What new threat is this woman facing? Sere thought.
“I know you’re there. I can feel you,” Jennifer said in the empty kitchen.
Sere thought back over their last connection. So long as I’m just thinking, she can’t hear me.
“Not talking? That’s okay.” Jennifer finished placing the freshly baked cookie on the tray. “I’m not crazy. I know you were the one who saved Bobby, just like I knew you were the one who talked me through my rescue. How are those two sweet sticks of man candy, by the way?”
She’s being way too calm about this. Damn it. How long does it take to heal a couple of shotgun holes, anyway?
“I’m just saying, you can talk to me. I won’t freak out if that’s what’s worrying you. Bobby and Henry won’t be up for another hour. I forgot I had to bake these for my son’s class last night.” She picked up one of the hot cookies and breathed in the smell of melted chocolate, butter, and nuts. “Tell me that doesn’t smell good. I’ll pour us some coffee so we can enjoy it together. All you have to do is say yes.”
When did you become so damn good at manipulation? God, I hope some of me didn’t transfer to you. Professor Yates had made it clear that if Sere kept messing around with his equipment while ignoring his fail-safes, such a possibility could happen, and nothing good would come of it. Fuck it. This isn’t going to be our last connection. I might as well get it over with.
“Yes.”
Jennifer’s hand shook as she ran the spatula under the next cookie, crumbling it in half. “So you are there. I’m sorry about trying to trap you last time we met. That was unfair of me, but then, I guess we’re both guilty of using each other.”
Shit, woman, how much do you know? Sere didn’t dare pursue her suspicions. She chose her words carefully. “We’ve helped each other out of some tough spots.”
“That we have.” Jennifer took a bite of the cookie and let the melted chocolate coat her mouth.
I’ll have to reassess my opinion of your cooking. That’s a damn fine cookie. Sere checked the corners of Jennifer’s eyes to make sure there wasn’t a package of frozen dough somewhere on the counter. “I never meant for this connection to happen.”
Now, there was an understatement. If Sere’s father hadn’t yanked her out of Guinee and dumped her soul into the first little-girl doppelgänger he found, Jennifer would have had a perfectly normal life. The swig of coffee perfectly dissolved the chocolate in the woman’s mouth into a rich, heady concoction that Sere wanted to take her time savoring, but it was gone before she could express her appreciation.
“Ever since I was a little girl,” Jennifer said, “I’ve had an invisible playmate. I guess every child does at some point, but the feeling that there was someone else I could call on never went away.”
I am not at your beck and call, Sere thought. “I hate to disappoint you, but sometimes—most of the time—the voices are just your imagination.”
“But not always. That’s good enough for me.”
The tug indicating it was time to return to her body pulled at Sere’s stomach. “Until next time. And thanks for the cookie.”
31
Chapter 3
The day was half-gone by the time Sere was back to fighting strength. “Where to next, demon huntress?” Myles asked as he opened the sliding door of the VW bus.
After a night of people and revelations, Sere was eager to get back on her Triton motorcycle, where she could think in peace. “Take me to Fisher’s offices. I need to check in before grabbing my bike and heading out.”
“And what can we do to help?” Kendell asked.
Kendell and Myles were as close to parents as anyone in Sere’s life. She had left them out of the nightmare as long as she could—too long, Kendell would say. She needed to bring them back in.
“There has to be a way to close hell’s gate to the demons without cutting off the connection that gives me this body,” Sere said. “Since we can’t get hold of Sanguine to find out what’s happening on that side, we’ll need to figure out how to slam the door on this side. I can hunt down these doppelbastards and behead them, but figuring out how they’re getting through the gate is beyond me.”
“What about your theory of one dead person killed by the existing doppelgängers equaling one new demon escaping hell?” Kendell asked from the passenger’s seat.
“It’s just an idea. Monty killed seven, then seven demons showed up three months later. I thought maybe there was some incubation period, but I must have been wrong on that point.” She worried about what else she might have been wrong about. Being on the front line between life and hell meant everyone was relying on her for information and ideas. “From the police reports, those seven killed twelve gator hunters, so I’m working under the assumption that I’ll be chasing twelve newly escaped demons.”
“That’s nineteen souls that could be trapped in hell,” Myles said as he fired up the old bus. “We’ll need to get them out before we seal the gate shut.”
Kendell reached across the gearshift and touched Myles’s arm. “Don’t forget about Sanguine. I’m not just leaving her there to rot for all time
.”
Sere couldn’t face leaving her guardian angel to hell’s doppelgängers, but there were bigger considerations at the moment. “One other thing. The demons who abducted Jennifer were headed for the hell mouth. I’m worried they might have been trying to cast my real into hell.”
“That’s a lot of complicated,” Myles said as he wove the VW into the early-morning traffic of the French Quarter.
For Sere, focusing on the specifics of how hell operated was a bit like being a kindergartener staring at a calculus formula. “You were the ones who asked for something to do.”
“What about Joe?” Kendell asked.
Joe—Sere’s mentor, trainer, and operations outfitter—would be her first stop after leaving the city. “Get word to him that I’m on my way. Don’t leave anything out, including my new human DNA weaknesses. I’m not going to have many friends north of the city, so I’ll need more than his advice this time. He might want to round up every paranormal shotgun shell he can find and grab a gun capable of firing them.”
Sere blew right past Linda, the receptionist, and into Montgomery Fisher’s office. “We’ve got a problem.”
The kindly CPA and superhero sidekick looked up from his stack of papers. “For the love of God, what now?”
She scribbled the address of Bubba’s Bar and Grill on a scrap of paper. “Bart’s been abducted by demons. They were waiting for him when he returned to Jackson’s Bluff. Those doppelgängers can’t resist a beer or two once they’ve escaped hell, so I’m guessing they rung up a healthy bar tab.”
“You honestly believe they hung around to pay the bill once they abducted the bar owner?” Fisher asked.