The Devil's Daughter Box Set

by G A Chase

  “The demon only forced me to swallow one pellet. Now that I’ve adjusted to it, I can feel the current that flows between this box and life. Bart’s on the other side. Our connection is stronger than that demon suspects. If I focus on that union, I should be able to pull myself out like I was hauling on a lifeline.”

  Sanguine’s raised eyebrows suggested that she wanted to ask about this unexpected love development, but she only said, “Play your cards close to your chest.”

  Sere wanted to comfort her beloved angel. “I know how to find you now. Once I stop this demon uprising, I’ll be back to save you.”

  Sere’s awareness of being in the cabin in the swamp returned as someone slapped her in the face. “You back?” The demon bent over her like a schoolyard bully.

  She leaned hard against Bart. “What’d I miss?”

  “He got pretty woozy,” Bart said. “His skin glistened transparent.”

  “That’s enough,” the demon said. “We tried turning the dial down. What say we ramp things up and see what happens?” He held up a technological bandage.

  Sere strained against the ropes. “Where the hell did you get that?”

  “If you wanted to keep your healing technology a secret, you shouldn’t have left it sitting in that abandoned school bus. We might not understand how it works yet, but when your soul was powered up into another human, my brothers received the hyped energy. Tracing the source to the bus in the swamp wasn’t really that difficult.”

  Sere considered the explanation pretty thin and too well rehearsed. If she couldn’t detect the demons, she strongly doubted any of them could feel her either. With Myles standing on the roof of the bus to establish the remote connection to the professor’s equipment, anyone could have seen what the gang was up to. So many people had been present when Sere came out of Jennifer, after saving her from the demons, that it had been damn near a hell-guardian reunion in Joe’s school bus cache. Sanguine must have been right. There had to be someone working with the demons.

  “First, we need a reason for you to draw on your real’s energy.” The demon pulled her combat knife out from the back of his pants. The blade gleamed in the swamp moonlight. He lifted it to his shoulder and made a backhanded downward slash toward her chest.

  Before the blade could make contact, however, Bart jumped up from the floor, grabbed the demon’s extended arm, and flipped the doppelfucker to the ground. With a firm karate kick, he crushed the larynx in the sickly-looking neck and kept the demon from crying out. Bart nearly pulled the transparent hand off the wrist as he took the knife. Then with one savage swing, he sliced the demon’s neck to the bone. Finally, Bart lifted his foot from the demon’s chin and slammed his heel into the exposed vertebrae as if stomping the life out of a partially decapitated rat in a trap. With a backward kick, he sent the head flying halfway into the room.

  Instead of coming over to free Sere, Bart rushed to the shotgun in the corner of the cabin. He motioned for her to stay silent.

  “Russ, you in here?” a voice yelled from outside. “The mosquitoes out here are eating me to death. There’s no one coming.”

  Bart took aim at the side of the closed door.

  “I hope you’re about done with your test. She made me all woozy. I’m coming in to get something to drink.” Doppelidiot number two stumbled into the cabin like a drunk while holding Bart’s handgun at his side.

  With one clean shot, Bart filled the demon’s head with paranormal pellets. He then gave the pump-action shotgun a firm pull and let a second round follow the first. The denizen of hell disintegrated completely without ever lifting the handgun.

  “Interesting,” Bart said. “I’ve never seen one completely evaporate before. Even out in the swamp, the gators got to them before I could finish the job.”

  “Yeah,” Sere said. “If the connection is fully severed, there’s nothing left of them in this realm. Now, if you don’t mind, being tied up naked isn’t my idea of sexy. I’m more the tie-others-up kind of girl.”

  He kept the hold of the shotgun and grabbed the knife from the floor. “I can see that about you.”

  Sere rolled to her side so he could cut her loose. “That was a pretty impressive rescue. I assume you used the nail head to loosen your bonds. How long did you have to wait after you were free of your ropes?”

  Once her bonds were cut, he handed her the knife as if she might feel less naked and vulnerable while holding the weapon. “Too long. I didn’t want to attack until I knew you were back in your body. When I saw him holding the bandage, I knew he’d be coming in close and that would be my best shot.”

  She got to her feet. Everything hurt. “It’s a good thing you did. If he’d wrapped that cloth around me and turned it on, the shotgun pellet could have bounced around inside me like a pinball before exiting my body. With its disruptive energy, I could have been left with a permanent hole in me.”

  “Don’t fancy a whole-body piercing?” Bart joked. “I doubt he even knew how to use that bandage.” He snuck back to the door and peered out the crack. “We need to get out of here. How are you feeling?”

  Resisting the pull toward hell was like standing in a river, holding firm against the current, and Bart was the rock she was using for stability. “Just stick close to me.”

  “We’d better hurry. Grab the handgun. There were only those two when they dropped you off, which means there’s seven more demons out there somewhere. Joe is good, but even he can’t keep them distracted forever.”

  And three more in New Orleans testing out immortality, she thought. One nightmare at a time. Sere kept close behind Bart as he opened the cabin door and snuck outside holding the shotgun.

  “Mind watching where you stick that knife?” he said.

  “Sorry.” She lifted the sharp blade from beside his butt cheek to her chest. “Any idea where the road is?”

  “Can’t be far. My best guess is it was about twenty minutes between the explosion and when they had you stripped, tied, and dumped in the cabin. But their legs were wet from fishing you out of the swamp, and I didn’t hear a motorboat, so there has to be a trail around here somewhere.”

  She pointed to the piles of clothing where their second guard had been keeping watch. “First things first.”

  36

  Chapter 8

  The Kevlar suit was trash, but it had done its job well. Sere’s leather pants, cropped leather top, and holster were unscathed. Once again clothed, with her weapons where they belonged, she followed Bart along the path that led away from the cabin.

  “Where do you think Joe is?” she asked.

  “I can just make out a faint glow through the trees. Must be what’s left of the BMW. If I were him, I’d work my way into the dark of the swamp and keep the demons between me and the light. That would give him the best advantage for seeing the bastards.”

  Bart had stashed his gun in the back of his pants and carried one of his many knives. With only demons to fight, a conventional bullet would only slow them down, but cutting off their heads would be a permanent solution. Sere fondled the butt of the pump-action shotgun, which barely fit in her thigh holster. The paranormal shells in it were their best weapon against the demons, even though carrying the rifle as they hunted through the swamp interfered with her maneuverability.

  “So we work around the shoreline, searching for him?” Sere knew fighting well, but she left military tactics to the expert.

  Bart hunkered down beside a tree stump. “We can do more damage to the enemy if we remain separate. Joe and I have similar training, so he’ll be expecting me to create a second offensive. Once he knows you’re free from the demons, the fun will really start.”

  “Sounds like a lot of assumptions. Why wouldn’t he just keep riding after the crash to spread out the doppelfuckers?”

  Bart looked at her as if she were a stupid little girl. “For starters, he’d want to make sure you weren’t killed. That means stopping somewhere. Riding up to the crash scene would have put him in
the enemy’s crosshairs. The instant he heard the explosion, he probably pulled off the road in order to stay hidden and check that you weren’t followed. With any luck, the demons didn't realize he was with you, though a squad with any training at all would conduct a search to be sure you were alone. Between your abduction after the crash and your time as their guinea pig, Joe has had an hour or so to play sniper games with the demons. We already figured something distracted them from showing up at the cabin. Since we escaped without running into another contingent, I think it’s safe to say Joe is out here somewhere.”

  Sere looked back toward the road. “So which way do we go?”

  Bart pointed down river. “Toward where he would have left his motorcycle.”

  An ugly thought crossed Sere’s mind. “I hope you’re not proposing that I make a run for it while you two play commandos with the demons.”

  “That’s not what I’m suggesting, but it probably is the escape Joe set up for you. I don’t think he would expect you to take it unless you had to. We can use the bike as a distraction to give him the upper hand with whoever he might be chasing. Even if they don’t want you dead, when the demons see you standing on the highway, they’ll come after you. Our elevated position with Joe out in the swamp should put the demons in a good kill zone—assuming they haven’t captured him. Stay sharp. Our enemy will have stationed lookouts between the road and the river in case we broke free.”

  She desperately wanted to take the lead. The swamp was her home. Doppelgängers from hell would be completely out of their comfort zone, making them easy to spot. All she had to do was watch how the animals responded. But if something happened to Bart without her knowing, her soul might get swept back to hell.

  “You take point,” she said. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  He gave her a quizzical smile. “You sure?”

  Knowing that she couldn’t hide their connection forever, Sere decided to fill him in. “When you gave me that blood transfusion, we established a bond. Then when you powered me up with your shirt under the bandage, you made it more than just physical. With this pellet in me, I need your soul to hang onto so I don’t slip back to hell. Sorry to lay this on you, big boy, but for now, you’re my rock.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be honored, apologetic, or turned on. Clearly, though, this is a conversation for another time.” He looked out at the dark vegetation. “We can’t wander through the swamp joined at the hip. Hang back as many paces as you dare, and give me a nightingale whistle if you need me.” He headed down to the riverbank and snuck along the bushes, knife at the ready.

  Sere considered tossing some shotgun pellets into the river in order to call in some aquatic help, but Bart was moving with the swiftness of his SEAL training. We have the upper hand, but only so long as we stay ahead. I don’t even know what a school of catfish could do for us.

  Bart moved with the rhythms of the swamp: stepping in time to the crickets to mask the sound of his footsteps, dancing between the brush and the river with the changing shadows, and hunkering down as silent and invisible as a black cat at the slightest unexpected sound. Even with Sere’s training and knowledge of the swamp, she found it hard to keep up. When he darted into the trees, she lost him.

  Damn it. She wanted to whistle for him, but whatever danger had caused him to slip in among the brush would also likely prevent him from answering. Instead, she nestled against the folds of a cypress trunk and tried to blend in with the roots. The vantage point wasn’t the best, but there were only so many places he could have gone. She relied on the tree’s protection while focusing beyond Bart’s potential location to what had attracted his attention. Without worrying about keeping up, she was free to devote all of her awareness to the section of wetland. There’s an alligator sleeping in the tall grass, an owl keeping lookout overhead, and a family of nutrias feeding in the brush. None of them seem disturbed. What the hell did you see, Bart? And where the fuck are you?

  The alligator adjusted his position, no doubt attracted by the grazing river rats. Instead of scampering toward the brush, however, it lunged upright. Bart! The Navy SEAL slashed backhanded at a tree trunk with his all-black combat knife. He struck with such force that Sere thought he was trying to chop it down in one swoop, but instead of the light-tan color of freshly exposed wood, dark-red blood oozed from under his blade.

  “You can come out now, Sere,” Bart said while keeping the knife firmly in place.

  “How the hell did you know where I was—or where he was?”

  “Years of training and even more years of covert actions.”

  She approached the tree to see the result of Bart’s mission. The knife impaled the demon through the neck and into the tree behind him. The location of the blow had missed his vocal cords.

  “Why didn’t you cut off his head?” she asked.

  “I thought you might have some questions for their leader. Based on his skills at evasion, this puppet isn’t your average doppelgänger. This is also the demon that led my abduction.”

  She tried to see the squad from Bart’s perspective. The guard at the cabin had been there merely to assist the inquisitor. From his lack of skills, that had to be the lowliest position of the group. As for her interrogator, even he admitted he was little more than a lab flunky. The attack force Joe was dealing with had to be made up of nothing more than foot shoulders. A leader wouldn’t be so easily distracted as to chase after a lone commando.

  She walked up to the snarling demon. “Who are you working for?”

  “Like I’m going to tell you. Cut off my head and get it over with.”

  “Not the worst idea.” Bart twisted the blade.

  From the hatred in the demon’s eyes, Sere could tell he wasn’t going to talk simply because of threats. “You’re not afraid of being decapitated?”

  “Why should I be?” the demon demanded in defiance. “I’ll simply be regenerated in hell. You’re losing, little girl.”

  Deep down, she feared he was right. Each time a gang made its escape, the doppelgängers learned something new. “Maybe, but you’ll be nothing more than a mindless drone.”

  “Not me.”

  His two words sent a shiver to her bones. She had heard that arrogant self-confidence before. Even in his contorted expression of anger, she made out the high cheekbones, aristocratic forehead, and deep-set beady eyes of their once-shared heritage.

  “Kill him. I’ve seen what I need to.” She leaned in to the demon’s ear before Bart completed the cut. “I may not know exactly who you are, but I’ve got a pretty good idea of where to look. And I guarantee you will not be coming back even if I have to kill your real myself.”

  Only a red glow remained in the demon’s eyes after Bart swung his knife to the side like a paper cutter. Once the body had slumped to the ground, the Navy SEAL allowed the head to roll off his blade. “Mind explaining that last interaction?”

  “Later,” Sere said. “We’ve got to find Joe, finish off these doppelfuckers, and get our tails back to New Orleans as fast as possible.”

  Sere nearly tripped over Joe’s Honda Blackbird covered in leaves. “Found it.”

  Without the threat of a demon rear guard, she and Bart had quickly made their way back along the highway to the stashed motorcycle.

  Bart knelt down and grabbed the handlebars. “Give me a hand getting this thing out of the muck. We need to roll it to some solid ground before firing it up.”

  She turned around and put her butt to the seat so she could push it up with her legs. “For a lightweight bike, this thing is a handful.”

  Once it was upright, Bart admired its lines. He let out a low whistle. “She is pretty. Must be killer fast too.”

  “You have no idea.” Sere got behind the rear tire so she could push as Bart pulled on the handlebars. In less than a hundred feet, they had both tires clear of the waterlogged soil. “Want to take the controls?”

  He looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. “Second time
in one day that you’re letting me take the lead. That must be some kind of record.”

  “I’m still a little woozy from the demon’s experiment, and this thing requires complete attention. Just don’t gun it and drop me off the back.”

  He swung his leg over the seat and hit the starter. “Purrs like a kitten. I’m guessing Joe made a few refinements.”

  “Yeah, and he’s going to be pissed that I totaled the machine he built for me.” She climbed on after Bart and wrapped her arms around his abs. The memory of seeing him naked—and fucking Edie—made Sere glad her body didn’t betray any outward signals of her lust.

  Though meant for road use, Bart scooted the Honda through the leaves and twigs and back onto the highway like he was playing with a dirt bike. Once he stopped power sliding it through the mud, he lined it up on the asphalt and laid into the throttle as if he’d owned the bike all his life. He hadn’t.

  Sere hung on for dear life as the Blackbird tried living up to its name by lifting the front tire three feet off the ground. “Would you mind not killing us both?”

  “Aren’t you the one who likes making a grand entrance? Just hang on while I get the feel of this thing.”

  Usually Sere resented the need for a helmet, but for the first time, she kind of missed the technologically paranormal head protection Joe had worked up. It was probably buried in the swamp’s silt by now, being played with by catfish.

  Bart put the front tire back on the road just before carving into the first curve. Trying to distract herself from the blur of asphalt that threatened to reach up and graze her knee, Sere focused on the differences between Joe’s bike and the one she’d crashed. Heavier and meaner, this one didn’t seem to care about the will of the rider—though the impression could have easily been due to Bart being at the controls. When he straightened the bike out of the curve, it again shot forward like a bullet out of a gun. Even in third gear, the rear wheel squealed against the road. The front tire lifted again but in a way that felt like a more controlled liftoff.