A Wolf at the Door: A Jesse James Dawson Novel
Page 16
“Until ten. And this time of year, there shouldn’t be too many people here. I hope.”
It seemed like we drove uphill forever. And while my brain knew that this wasn’t technically “the mountains,” little me, born and bred around Missouri’s river bluffs, thought it looked pretty damn impressive. Below us, I could see Los Angeles spread out like a Christmas tree, the lights of the city gradually taking the place of the light of day. I was forced to admit, if only to myself, that Kansas City looked nothing like this.
“If we were here during the day, you can see the Hollywood sign from certain places along here,” Gretchen supplied, perhaps tired of the silence. She even sounded a tiny bit apologetic. “But they don’t light it at night.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine without seeing it.” Sightseeing was so not the top priority on my list right now, but it was nice of her to think of it. I think.
At the top of the hill sat the observatory building, pristinely white against the darkening sky like a reversed silhouette. A few evening sky watchers were trundling in and out as we parked, but all in all I was satisfied with our “innocent bystander” quotient. I held Gretchen’s door as she slid out of the car, then gathered up my plastic bag of supplies. Bobby moved up behind us like a big, menacing shadow, and I was suddenly glad he was on our side.
“Where to now?”
“Just out on the lawn. Reggie said the city spread out below us lends power. Something about all the hopes and dreams gathering in one spot.” Gretchen stopped to slip off her heels as she left the asphalt lot and started picking her way gingerly over the lawn. “He said it would be better to do it at the Hollywood sign, but the cops come too quick up there.”
I put my hand on Bobby’s chest when he would have followed Gretchen across the grass. “Have you seen this before? A real demon?”
He shook his head. “No. But how bad can it be, right?”
I shook my head in return. “You’re staying here.”
That got me a serious frown. “I’ve seen actual combat, man, I think I can handle a little hocus-pocus in the dark.”
“Look.” I lowered my voice, mindful that there were civilians nearby. “Once you hear a demon name, you can’t unhear it. It winds through your brain in a way I can’t even describe, and it will sit there in your skull, festering for the rest of your life. Ask me how many I have in my head.”
The scarred marine hesitated a moment before asking. “How many?”
“Thirteen. Thirteen of those nasty, slithery things swimming around up here.” I tapped my temple. “And I’d give anything in the world to be able to scrub them out. So take what I’m offering. Stay here, make sure we’re not disturbed. ’Kay?”
After a few moments, he nodded. “All right. You want my weapon?” He shifted his coat aside, displaying his holstered gun.
“Nah, I’m set.” I shook my plastic bag with a rustle. “Guns are usually no use anyway.” For fighting a demon, which had no vital organs to disable, a bullet just didn’t cause enough damage. And the bullets that would, well, those were too dangerous to the bystanders. Better to stick with the tried and true. To that end, I popped the trunk of the car and fished out the tire iron. Trust me, I could beat the crap outta a whole lotta demon with a good piece of metal.
Armed and supplied, I trotted to catch up to Gretchen, and she gave me a faint smile. “Thank you for that, by the way. I don’t think Bobby would have stayed behind for me. He respects you.”
I gave her some noncommittal man noise. I wasn’t sure Bobby respected me. I was just glad he’d listened to me.
We found a place far enough away from the building to be deemed “out of sight” but close enough that the faint light still provided some clarity. Gretchen turned to look at me expectantly. “What next?”
“Well, first we’re going to make sure you’re safe during all of this.” Out of my little shopping bag, I produced a box of salt. “Find a place to stand where you’ll be comfortable. I don’t want you moving after this.”
She obeyed, and I took great care in pouring a solid line of salt in the grass around her bare feet. No doubt, I was going to kill this section of lawn here, but better that than risk Gretchen’s soul.
I’d seen what demons could do to the people they’d bargained souls from. The handless, armless zombie creature flashed through my mind again, and the skin down my back crawled even though I knew she was far away. If a demon owned your soul, he didn’t have to wait for you to finish with it before he came to collect. Yank a soul out of a living body, and poof…instant zombie. I wasn’t taking that chance with Gretchen.
“No matter what happens, you stay in this circle, understand? If it comes down to it, you stay in this circle until the sun comes up, and then you run for the car.”
The starlet frowned at me. “You talk like this is going to turn into something bad.”
“It never turns into something good.” Next out of the bag was a plain bottle of water with a wide mouth. From my collection of key chains, I took the plastic carnival token and dropped it into the bottle, giving it a good shake. Voilà, instant holy water. “Hang on to this for me. Don’t drink it.”
“I thought you said you don’t have any magic.”
“I don’t. But I have a lot of friends who do. They hook me up.” Last but not least, I unhooked my mace canister from my belt loop. I thumbed the cap off and sprayed a bit off to the side, just to be sure it was working. The odor of cayenne and cumin cut through the chilly night air.
Now that the sun was down, California remembered that it was late December. I spared a small moment to wish I had one of my jackets with me, but I was also pretty sure my goose bumps weren’t entirely from the cold. We were about to do something colossally stupid, and my danger sense wanted to make damn sure I knew it. Sure enough, Cam’s little warning system was also swirling, the color a muted blue-green.
“All right. Let’s do this thing.” I picked up the tire iron and rolled my head on my shoulders to loosen up the muscles. Ready as I’d ever be.
My starlet companion took a few deep breaths before attempting the call, which I couldn’t fault her for at all. The one and only time I’d said a demon name aloud, I’d choked and puked my guts up, all at once. That she could do it at all told me what kind of tough cookie she was. “_____________________!”
My vision swam, and the hillside we stood on tilted at alarming angles. My ears felt like I’d flossed them with razor wire, and my stomach did dangerous flip-flops before the world righted itself. Five years, I’d been hearing such things, and it never got any better. Such is the power of the demonic language. There are just some things humans aren’t meant to hear, much less say.
And then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Though I kept my senses open, waiting for that faint hint of sulfur to betray its location, the demon failed to show itself. I’d seen some wait to make grand entrances, sure, but as the minutes ticked on, it was going from fashionably late to totally gauche. “I don’t get it. Why isn’t it coming?”
“Should I call it again?”
“No! Do not do that.”
“I told you. I haven’t seen him in a couple of years now.”
“No. No, something’s wrong. It has to be here.” Careful not to get too far from Gretchen, I started walking a spiral in the grass, edging my way outward in a search for…something.
When I found it, it was not what I expected.
13
I nearly stepped on it, and only a faint mewling sound kept me from planting my heavy boot right in the middle of it. In the darkness, in the damp grass, it was easily mistaken for a lump of mud, or a great oversized slug, about the size of a football. “What the hell…? Gretchen, come look at this.”
“You said not to leave the circle.”
“I think it’s safe.” Against my better judgment, I crouched down to get a better look, poking at the strange blob with the end of the tire iron. It shrunk from the touch of metal, curling in on itself, so
I poked it again, this time with my finger. It bleated like a tiny goat, and wriggled at my touch. Warmth spread from my fingertip, spreading up to my wrist, then faded away. Mira’s protection spell, barely triggered.
“Ew, what is that?” Gretchen leaned over my shoulder to look, careful to keep me between her and the slimy thing.
“I think this may be your demon.” I poked it again, and it squirmed, helplessly trying to flee my harassment.
“No. No, this can’t be. My demon looked like a man. Tall, handsome. He had red hair.” She scooted closer, and the puling thing in the grass thrashed as best it was able. One end of it—I’ll assume it was the head—reached up toward her, almost begging. “God, do you really think it is?” She reached out to poke it as well, and I caught her wrist. Yes, I was pretty sure it was safe for her to leave the salt circle, but why push our luck?
“Demon strength is measured by how many souls they own. Maybe someone got to him. Took all his souls away. Drained his power, knocked him down a peg.” Or fifty. I’d never seen a demon so weak, but even as we examined its pathetic little form, I knew that’s what it was. A demon that had lost almost every trace of power. It was barely existing.
“How does that happen?”
“Don’t know. Maybe it ran afoul of a champion, like me. Maybe someone fought it, beat it.” There was a part of me that felt some satisfaction at that thought. Maybe this is what happened to the demons I’d fought. Maybe right now, the Yeti was in Hell, oozing through some other demon’s summer garden or something.
Because part of me is still a little boy, I poked it again, just to hear it whine. It curled up in a little hurt ball, making piteous whimpering noises. “It’s so weak, it can’t even speak. We’re not going to find out anything from it.”
“What do we do now?”
I glanced around, then back at Gretchen, shrugging. “This is your chance, you know. If you want your soul back. If I can get it to negotiate somehow, pretty sure I could take it out in this condition. This would all be over.” Hell, I was pretty sure I could stomp it flat with one boot. Squish. Or better yet, dump that bottle of holy water over it and watch it sizzle.
She thought about it for long quiet moments, before shaking her head. “No. No, this is what I chose. If we undo this, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for. It’s all I have to give to my mom and sister. I can’t let that happen.”
Quite frankly, that was not the answer I’d expected. From my crouched position, I looked at her for a while, trying to solve the puzzle she’d become in the short time I’d known her. Finally, I stood, brushing my hands off on my jeans. “Whatever the lady wants. Let’s go then.”
“You’re just going to leave it here?”
“You have a better idea? The odds of it hurting anyone are fairly slim I’d say. It’ll either find its way back across, or it’ll fry when the sun comes up. Either way, it won’t break my heart.”
“It’s suffering.” Even in the dark, her blue eyes were accusing, reminding me that I was supposed to be a better person than this. Dammit. Why do women do this to me?
“Step back. You don’t want this in your eyes.” When she had removed herself to a safe distance, I crouched down again, shaking my mace canister a little as I spoke to the tiny blob in the grass. “Understand that if I had my way, I’d be dumping holy water on you right now. As it is, you get a reprieve. If you ever get a chance, thank the lady.” I gave a small spritz of the spiced-up water, holding my breath and leaning back to keep my own concoction from choking me. The slug-demon gave a small “meep!” noise and vanished. It didn’t even have enough oomph to leave a sulfur smell behind.
I stood again, offering my arm to Gretchen. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Back at the hotel, we briefed a now-conscious Tai on the events of the day, and both bodyguards took their try at reading the demonic contract. I had some brief hope that Tai’s innate abilities would allow him to miraculously translate it, but no such luck.
Given that his protégé had spent most of the day unconscious, Bobby declared it was his turn for a nap, and retired to the spare bedroom. Gretchen followed suit, disappearing into her own room shortly thereafter, leaving me alone with the Maori masher.
He didn’t seem to be any the worse for wear, despite his earlier exertions. His eyes were bright, his color good. Definitely better than Mira looked after some of her spell castings gone wrong. “I’m freakin’ starving. I’m gonna order some Chinese takeout. You want?”
It occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten all freaking day. “Oh, hell yes. Order one of everything.” I was starving!
He chuckled, and after he ordered he went downstairs to wait for the delivery, leaving me alone for the first time in days.
The suite felt strange with everyone asleep. I’d never heard dead silence in this place that usually seemed so full of drama and noise. Though you’d think a little peace and quiet would be a relief, I actually found myself wishing for Tai’s return, just so I wasn’t all alone with my reading.
While I’d have preferred to be reading something with explosions and riveting action, instead I pulled out the much-crumpled copy of Gretchen’s contract. I didn’t have the foggiest idea how to read it, of course, but that didn’t stop me from trying.
It occurred to me that I’d never actually seen a written demon contract. Tattooed into my skin, yeah, but never on paper. A small part of me wondered if my wife, language whiz that she was, could pick up Demonic. Would these wavering black scribbles mean anything to her, if I could find her a teacher? Do they advertise for that on Craigslist?
Half an hour, a huge carton of General Tso’s chicken and a raging freakin’ headache later, I was forced to admit that there was nothing on that paper I was going to be able to interpret. I could think of only one person who might be able to, and man I didn’t want to call him.
He picked up on the third ring and there was no trace of sleepiness in his gravelly voice at all. God only knew where he was, or what time of day it was there. “Dawson.” No hello, no hey, just “Dawson.” Ivan was pissed at me.
“Hey, Ivan, how’s it going?” That too went unacknowledged.
“Is there to being a reason you are not following protocol? A reason that your student is to be calling me, instead of you?”
I knew I was gonna have to take my ass-chewing before I could get to the real reason I’d called him, so I sighed and took it like a man. “I’m not out here for a soul challenge, Ivan. I’m just…repaying a favor I owe.”
“And this favor is to being more important than your safety? This favor must to being very important indeed.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and the part of me that would always be a teenage boy standing before the judge wanted to curl up and die of shame. It wasn’t that he was mad, it was that he was disappointed. I guess we never outgrow that particular aversion.
“It was a favor I couldn’t refuse to pay back. And that’s all I really feel like saying on the subject.” He snorted, obviously not satisfied with my answer. “Listen, I called you for a reason. I’m looking at a contract here in front of me, and I’m having some trouble reading it. Do you think you could look it over?”
“What language is it to being in?”
“Um…Demonic.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “You have…a written copy?”
“Yeah. It’s a long story. Do you have time?”
“Tak, I can to be looking at it. I could to be arriving in two days.”
“I need it sooner. You have a fax machine handy?”
“Tak.” He gave me the number and I jotted it down on the back of my hand. “I am not certain if I can to be reading this, but I will to be trying. Regardless, you and I must to be talking, Dawson. Much is to being unsaid between us.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll quit dodging your calls if you’ll quit dodging mine.” Again, he snorted, but he didn’t deny it. “I’ll fax this now. Gimme a call back when you’ve had a chance to look at it.�
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With Gretchen’s contract flying through the ether to Ivan, there was nothing left for me to do but sleep.
As comfortable as that leather couch was to sit on, sleeping on it is not advisable. I woke with aches and pains in places usually reserved only for post-combat injuries, and my face plastered against the slick leather with my own sweat. I peeled myself off the sofa to find Tai sitting at the bar, still wearing sweats and a T-shirt. “Morning, sunshine.” I flipped him the bird and he laughed. “Breakfast is on its way up. Tread softly though, I just woke Bobby up and he’s cranky in the mornings.” When was Bobby not cranky?
I suppose I should have been disturbed that I’d slept so deeply, but I’d come to rely on my early warning system so much. If I wasn’t all cold and goose bumpy, I was safe. Even in my sleep.
There were no messages on my phone, and a part of me was disappointed. Somehow, I thought I’d wake up and Ivan would have this all figured out for me. What else was I supposed to do now, besides hobble around like a broke-down horse?
“There’s a garden on the roof, right?” I asked Tai, who nodded. “I’m gonna go up, do some exercises and stuff. Holler if you need me.”
A few katas should work the rust out of my muscles. That was my first excuse for riding the elevator up to the roof. The second was that I needed a little bit of privacy for the next call I was going to make. A call that didn’t require my phone.
The garden on the roof was stunning. It was easy to believe I’d suddenly stepped back in time to feudal Japan, walking through some shogun’s carefully sculpted courtyard.
A path had been formed of white river stones, carefully sealed down so they wouldn’t scatter underfoot. The trail was bordered by large bonsai-style shrubs and low bamboo posts containing solar-powered lights. There were small alcoves carved out, with benches for sitting, and if you followed the path far enough, it opened up into a large gathering area. Already, there were tables and chairs set up, paper lanterns hanging, preparing for the New Year’s festivities to come. A small stream wove in and out through everything, adding a soothing music to the morning air, ending in the reflecting pool at the center of the roof. I peered over, looking through the rippling water all the way down into the hotel lobby.