Demons and Druids

by James Patterson

  No problem: I FIGHTING ALIENS.

  Chapter 17

  THE CREEP must have recognized me, because he choked on his motor oil in mid-swig and started spluttering. Once he regained his composure he squinted his eyes and gave me a steely glare.

  “So yah spoh’ed me earlier, eh? Won’t say Oi’m surproised.” His voice came clearly through the cracks in the window, a perfect cockney accent. Joe definitely needed to take diction lessons from this guy. “’E said yah were one to watch out for.”

  “’E? You mean he?”

  “The livin’ foire. Yah know, Betah!”

  “Beta… he knows I’m here?” It wasn’t actually a question. The way things had been going lately, I wasn’t surprised in the least.

  “’E knows lotsa things. Like he knows Oi’m gonna kill yah. ’E told me so ’imself.”

  “Why would you work for an evil maniac like him?” I asked, stalling. You’d be amazed how well this tactic works with dumb criminals. They really love to talk about themselves.

  “Well, lemme put it this way for yah, mate. ’E gives me certain… benefits.”

  He put a hand up to his face, and I noticed he was gritting his teeth, hard. Then he raised his sunglasses. His left eye was yellowed and watery. Where his right eye should have been, there was only an empty socket.

  I barely had time to register this, when the right side of his face began to swell, and his mouth opened in a primal scream. “Loike this one, f’rinstance!”

  Before I could react, a glowing, flaming ball of lava burst from his eye socket, shattered the window, and exploded like a lightning bolt against my chest.

  And in case you’re wondering, yeah, that hurts even an alien.

  I flew backward into the flimsy safety railing. Actually, safety railing was a misnomer—peanut brittle would have done a better job at keeping me safe. The rail buckled instantly, and I went over the side in a cloud of broken glass and rusty metal, flailing my arms in a poor imitation of the backstroke as I fell.

  I might have morphed myself into a bird if I hadn’t been in excruciating pain from the burn of the flaming eyeball strike. Not to mention that a three-story fall goes extremely fast. There was no way to focus.

  I clutched my chest and braced myself for a hard, painful, possibly fatal landing on the cobblestones below. The cobblestones of London’s streets had been handpicked to withstand cart wheels, horses’ hooves, wheelbarrows. They’d lasted hundreds of years. In a contest with my spine, they were probably going to win.

  I gulped, maybe the last thing I would ever do.

  Of course, I’d forgotten all about Emma. She hadn’t forgotten about me, though. “DANIEL!”

  Smackdown.

  Not many people would let themselves be clobbered to save a friend. Em was brave, I’ll give her that. I ended up on top of her, facedown. She wheezed like she’d been punched in the gut fifty times.

  “You okay?” I asked her, feeling awful. I didn’t mean to use her as a cushion. I’d only been joking earlier.

  “I might be better if you’d eaten less fish and chips in the past few days,” she razzed me. “A few pounds less g-force would have been nice.”

  I disentangled myself and stood up, pulling Em to her feet as I did.

  “I’m guessing your meeting didn’t go so well,” she said.

  “Well, actually, it was a blast.”

  I could feel blood running down my face where a shard of glass had cut my forehead. A circular singe mark was smack-dab in the middle of my chest. My whole body felt like a giant blister.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” I whispered urgently. “You good to run?”

  “Run, no. Stumble, okay. Good thing you’re not any heavier or I would have been a rut in the pavement.”

  As the two of us lurched away as best we could, I heard a demented voice echoing down the alley behind us.

  “Don’ go, Alien Hunter! Oi just put dinner on! Didn’ Oi tell yah, OI HEART GRILLIN’?”

  Chapter 18

  WHEN WE GOT BACK to the town house that evening, Dana, Joe, and Willy immediately dropped their jaws.

  “Wow! What happened?” asked Joe. “Wait, let me guess. Accidentally shot out of a cannon?”

  “Almost,” Emma said wryly. Dana rushed out of the room to get either first-aid supplies or holy oils for the last rites.

  “You both look like mega-crap,” contributed Willy. “Are you all right, Em?” He enveloped her in a tight hug. The two of them are so different that sometimes I forget they’re brother and sister.

  I tried to fake a war-hero pose. “Nothing a few months of R and R wouldn’t cure,” I said, not wanting to let on how I’d dumped—literally—on Emma. Willy’d never let me live that down. “Em was great. She’s due for some vacation time.”

  “He got blasted off a third-story balcony,” said Emma matter-of-factly. “I caught him.” Way to blow my plan, Emma.

  Joe slapped his hands to the sides of his face. “Great balls of fire!”

  “More like eyeballs of fire,” I said with a grimace.

  Dana came back with a damp towel, sat down beside me, and started to clean the dried blood from my face.

  “Did you find Beta?” she asked, wincing in sympathy. “Kind of looks like maybe you did.”

  “No, not exactly Beta.” I fingered the burns in my shirt and furrowed my eyebrows. “You guys have any luck?”

  Willy rolled his eyes. “We followed a guy halfway across London because Joe thought he looked ‘suspicious.’ Turned out he ran a fish-and-chips shop.”

  “You forgot to mention that his fish-and-chips were spectacular,” said Joe.

  Dana stared daggers at him. “I swear, Joe, next time one of your ‘hunches’ leads us to a restaurant, I’m going to put you on the menu.”

  Even though I was exhausted, I joined in their laughter. The happy chorus of their voices reminded me why I put up with the beatings, the kidnappings, all the pain and suffering that came with the territory of hunting outlaw aliens.

  My friends reminded me of what I had to lose, what we all had to lose.

  Chapter 19

  JOE FINALLY FOUND a first-aid kit in the downstairs bathroom, which gave me an excuse for another twenty minutes or so of medical treatment.

  Eventually, though, the exhaustion was overwhelming, and I had to say good night to my friends. As I started to climb the stairs, I paused and turned. They were all staring at me. “Uh… guys? Did you—”

  We had all heard it. A fluttering sound at the back of the town house, like a giant moth beating itself against a porch light. A humongous alien moth. Maybe a fire-breathing one?

  “Daniel, you weren’t followed, were you?” Dana’s expression was serious, and a little scared. I was still aching all over, but I remembered my promise: I would never let anything hurt her, or the others. Anything.

  Including a flying dragon, if that’s what it was.

  I shook my head and motioned for them to keep quiet. Then I crept over to the window at the rear of the room. There was absolutely no movement outside.

  The window creaked just a little as I slid it open. I cautiously stuck my head out into the night air.

  Still nothing. So where’s Big Bird at?

  There was a nervous knot in my stomach that wouldn’t go away, but I was hurting and tired. I couldn’t chase every sound I heard, even though there were monsters outside the window sometimes, in my closet, occasionally under my bed, inside the toilet once, even in a toothpaste tube, believe it or not.

  I finally left my friends on watch and continued upstairs, this time for real. I fell asleep almost at once.

  It couldn’t have been much later that a loud sound jarred me awake. I was instantly alert and on my feet. In my life, a few seconds of disorientation can make the difference between being alive and seeing an alien’s lower intestine in extreme close-up.

  Then I heard the noise again: a knocking coming from inside the massive wardrobe.

  I didn’
t think I’d been followed. We’d been careful. Beta might know I was in town, but he didn’t know where I was living… or we’d be dead already.

  Steeling myself, I crept over to the wardrobe and took one carved knob in each hand. In one fluid motion, I threw open the doors.

  The wardrobe was empty.

  But before I could even breathe a sigh of relief, I felt inhumanly strong hands grabbing me, pinning my arms. Not good.

  At the same time a wiry arm encircled my neck in a sleeper hold. Very, very not good.

  I felt hot breath in the hair on the back of my neck. Then an oily, aristocratic voice spoke softly beside my ear, in almost a whisper.

  “Well, well, well. Look, lads. I’ve caught me an Alien Hunter.”

  Chapter 20

  I TURNED to face my captor. The voice matched its owner’s face: as smooth as silk, as taut as a piano wire. Kind of handsome, actually. Like a young George Clooney—with spiky hair, dyed blond, if you can imagine that. Not, as Emma would say, very “alienesque.”

  “Well, at last! Snow White’s awakened from her slumber!”

  I didn’t recognize this one from The List. But if he knew about aliens, he was at least in cahoots with one or more. Not with Beta, though—there’s no way he could’ve stayed so clean. A tailored white suit was buttoned onto his slender frame, and I recognized the shoes as designer Ferragamos. And he was short, like thirteen-and-just-hit-his-growth-spurt short. He looked like he’d never needed a shave in his life.

  But his dark eyes, in which no pupils were visible, had the depth of an oil well. Looking into them was like staring into a black hole.

  Maybe one that descended all the way to the everlasting fires.

  Chapter 21

  “WHO ARE THEY, DANIEL?” Dana asked. I looked around, startled. She and the rest of my friends, who must have come upstairs to investigate, were being held in a semicircle by four thuggish, tattooed men. The panic in Dana’s voice brought back unpleasant memories of nearly seeing the life crushed out of her by alien tentacles.

  Another male meathead was holding my arms behind me in a grip of iron. Make that titanium. This guy was practically wrenching my sturdy Alparian arms out of their sockets. It hurt, and I could barely concentrate on what their sleazebag leader was saying, let alone try to make a move on him.

  “Who are we? Well, that’s an interesting question, darling.”

  Darling? Dana and I both glared at him. The anger helped me focus through the pain. “You better stop right there, before you say anything you’re going to regret later.”

  “Now, now, Daniel.” The words slithered off his tongue. “First, let us get straight who’s entitled to be angry here. We’ve been roosting in this lovely abode for the past month or so, and I daresay it was rather rude of you to invite yourselves to our little party.”

  “I don’t do manners with hooligans,” I spat.

  “Hooligans! Heavens, Daniel. I’m just trying to have a civil conversation, so let’s not get overheated and do anything rash, like, say, trying to use your creative powers.”

  I blinked. How did he—

  “Oh yes, I know all about you. If you so much as think about making anything, other than making nice, of course, your friends here will suffer a very nasty, very permanent accident. I move quickly, and I cut deep.”

  I seethed silently. He didn’t seem to know that I’d been trying desperately to use my powers ever since the moment I’d gained consciousness. The simple fact was that I couldn’t. My injuries from the fall plus the ache in my arms were making it impossible. I kept trying to concentrate, to summon a baseball bat, a rope, a rock—anything—but the physical pain kept sweeping in and disrupting things.

  “Now, as to the delicious young lady’s question,” our captor continued. “Who are we? I bet Daniel here knows us. And if he doesn’t, he should. After all, we know an awful lot about him.”

  He let out a long, loud laugh—more like a cackle—and I saw into his mouth for the first time.

  I’m no dentist, but, well… I know when something is off, and this guy had a problem that would have driven any orthodontist into early retirement. I could see his canines. They extended a good two inches below the gum line.

  And suddenly I knew the answer to Dana’s question.

  “Great. We’ve been caught by vampires,” I said. I heard Emma gasp.

  “Please,” said the man in the white suit in an immensely pleased tone. “We prefer to be known as the ‘dentally challenged.’ You can call me Vlad. And no—I’m not trying to be funny.”

  Chapter 22

  “VLAD? As in, Dracula?” I said incredulously. “And I guess Frankenstein’s monster and the Wolf Man are waiting outside?”

  “Oh, Daniel, you should know that all those stories are just… just… romanticized versions of the truth. Now,” he continued, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Your dossier was right when it said you had quite a brain. And we’ll be seeing that brain up close and personal soon enough. Or tasting it.”

  Ah, now I remembered. This was something I had seen mentioned in The List. “You’re part of the species Vampirus sapiens. And as I recall, it’s not blood you’re after. You subsist off the cerebral fluids of other creatures. You’re brain suckers. I guess Phosphorius Beta sent you to finish us off.”

  “Beta? That nutter? Never!” For the first time, irritation crossed his features. “I should think he sent you here to finish me off. After all, we go back centuries, Mr. Beta and I…”

  “Wait a minute. Beta’s been around for centuries?” I asked. As long as I was in this freak’s capture, I was going to get some information from him.

  “Longer than me, in fact. Unfortunately for the old bloke, I’m one of the few who are impervious to his barbaric hunting method. Drives him quite mad indeed, and he knows how to hold quite a grudge, that one. He would need to hire a mercenary such as you, Mr. X, to see me gone. You have quite unique methods at your disposal, and I shouldn’t like to take the risk of having you employ them.”

  “I gather from your expensive tastes that it’s more likely you’re after the bounty on my head.” I faked a yawn.

  “Not the bounty, my friend—just your head. Your delectable brain, to be exact.”

  Chapter 23

  I WOULD HAVE LAUGHED at this guy if I hadn’t seen this part as plain as day: his fangs were growing longer, right before my very eyes.

  “Wow,” Joe remarked with a low whistle, typically unfazed by it all. “Those babies must be good for skull busting.”

  “Human brain is quite common and fatty,” Vlad explained to us. “Alparian cerebellum, however, is quite the delicacy. I’ve been seeking it for quite some time.”

  He slowly started taking his jacket off, as if it were part of his fine-dining ritual. Then he began unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and folding them up. I was expecting a giant lobster bib to come out next.

  I could take this nutbag, I knew I could. But I couldn’t risk my friends again. I had to make them disappear. Why wasn’t it working?

  “Well, this has been great, great fun,” Vlad went on. “But I’ve worked up quite an appetite. I’m famished and so is my motley crew.”

  As I watched, two more fangs sprouted from his gums, then two more. And suddenly his suit darkened to gray, his whole body drew together like a crumpled Kleenex, and his feet came right off the floor.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  Faster than fire spreading across the surface of a puddle of oil, Vlad morphed from a diminutive creep in a white suit into a giant bat, hovering on wings at least six feet across. His mouth was now bristling with three-inch fangs, fifteen to twenty of them, enough to take a good chunk out of my skull. Diaemus youngi, I thought. A white-winged vampire bat. Only this one was about twice as big as it should be.

  “Neat,” I said bleakly. “I’m impressed.”

  Generally speaking, bats squeak. After all, they’re basically flying rats. But the voice that emerged through Vlad’s three-
inch fangs was deeper and raspier than before. Think Darth Vader with a head cold.

  “Enough chitchat. It’s time for dinner now. Renfield, if you’d do the honors.”

  The brain-sucking hulk behind me forced me down to my knees as my friends looked on, horrified. They’d never seen me so powerless. Suddenly the top of my head felt way too exposed.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer a low-cal smoothie, Vlad?” I said.

  His resonant voice became a little less self-satisfied. “That was so humorous, I thought I’d never start laughing.”

  I recalled the words from The List’s information on vampires: crosses, garlic, holy water, wooden stakes, sunlight.

  Wood, I thought. Wood is easy. Wood, I can do.

  I blocked the pain out of my mind and unleashed all my energies toward the center of the room. In a flash, a giant wooden cross appeared, planted firmly in the floor like some kind of weird tree.

  Vlad-Bat reeled backward… and then began laughing hysterically.

  Oh, right. Now I remembered the rest of it. Crosses, garlic, holy water, wooden stakes, sunlight. None of these “fictional solutions” are considered effective against Vampirus sapiens. The only consistently reliable tactic when dealing with this cruel and deadly species of vampire is to avoid them at all costs.

  Great. Thanks a lot, List.

  But then I realized that the thug twisting my arms behind me was laughing too. Laughing so hard that his grip had loosened just a bit.

  Just enough?

  Chapter 24

  YES. I’d played stupid long enough for Hulky to let down his guard. I threw one of my elbows backward as powerfully as I could. There was a startled “oof!” from behind. Before he could take firm hold again, I was already busy carving changes in reality.

  I jumped high in the air and, almost instantly, felt myself transform. Yahoo! Before the giant bat or his henchmen could make a move, I had spread eight-foot wings of my own. I was hovering, too.