Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “What?”

  “How old is Juliana? Four, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “How old were you when they turned you over to Aunt Carmen?”

  She closed her eyes. “Michael, don’t—”

  “It’s true and you know it,” I said, my voice firm but not hostile. “You see yourself in her and it’s clouding your judgment. She’s not you.”

  “Well, she’s on a pretty damn similar path,” Jordan snapped, glowering at me. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t give anything to stop her from turning into me someday?”

  “Part of me would.”

  “And the other part?”

  “Jordan, you’re a lot of things, but if the worst thing to happen to Juliana is that she turns into you, then it’s not the end of the world.”

  She bowed her head, hiding one side of her face behind a curtain of hair. “Don’t say that. If you knew who I really was, you’d never love me.”

  “You’re such an idiot,” I murmured. “I don’t love you in spite of your faults. I love you because of them.”

  She shook her head. “You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t.”

  “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t do. I shouldn’t drink alcohol. I shouldn’t eat junk food. I shouldn’t give bad tips.”

  I brushed the hair behind her ear, making her look at me. “And I shouldn’t throw you down on this bed and rip all your clothes off. But I still want to anyway.”

  “Even though you’re mad at me?”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? That’s why I want to so bad.”

  She made a hoarse sound similar to a laugh. “You’re such a guy.”

  “I choose to take that as a compliment. But I meant what I said. If you can honestly tell me that you think you can separate yourself from Juliana enough to listen to my plan, then I’ll help you.”

  “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

  “Alright.”

  She leaned her forehead against mine. The scent of her skin, of cocoa butter, made me shut my eyes. I feared I’d never be this close to her again.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I whispered. I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I shouldn’t. She didn’t understand. In my head, I felt angry, betrayed, and resentful, but my body wanted nothing more than to lay her out on this stupid cheap bed and try my best to break the headboard. Shallow, carnal, and completely true.

  The evidence arose when I noticed my other hand had somehow found its way to her thigh and was rubbing it like I did whenever I was trying to comfort her. I’d done it on reflex. Did she even know she did stuff like this to me?

  Still, she didn’t say anything when the wandering hand disappeared underneath the hem of her shirt, resting on the soft skin of her hip. Damn it. Why did it feel like years since we’d had sex?

  “We should probably call Belial back in,” she said in a vacant tone, which clued me in to the fact that she realized we were getting into dangerous territory, but didn’t have enough sense to tell me to stop touching her.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Michael…I have to tell you something…”

  “It can wait.” Somehow, my lips were now on her throat and both hands were beneath her shirt and I had no idea when that had happened. She sank back on the bed and I followed her, taking a bite at the spot between her neck and shoulder as my fingers worked at the clasp of her bra. I nearly groaned as she pulled the hem of my shirt up, palming my abs in that familiar way she always did.

  “Ahem.”

  I had to suppress a growl of annoyance when I heard the arrogant male voice of my demonic counterpart behind me.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  Jordan and I answered simultaneously. “Yes.”

  “Good. I assume you’ve made up since you’re rounding second base,” he said with no small amount of sarcasm. I noticed his eyes were fixed on what was visible of my wife’s cleavage. I stood up and she pulled her shirt down, which made me feel better and worse at the same time.

  “We came to an agreement.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Did you, now? Didn’t think you had enough time for that.”

  Jordan buried her face in one hand with an audible slap. “We’re never gonna live this down, are we?”

  “Not likely.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I know. Now let’s get going, lovebirds.”

  Chapter 32

  Michael

  BELIAL LEFT THE room first. Jordan and I stood there in truly awkward silence. She absently rubbed the spot where I’d bitten her as if it hurt, and I felt a bit guilty when I noticed. She kept her eyes on the floor as she spoke. “Should we talk about what just happened?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “But not now.”

  The words “I’m sorry” clung to the back of my throat like phlegm. I just couldn’t say them. Partly because I was still angry and partly because I didn’t really mean it. I knew the limits of my personality and at my worst, I was an arrogant, self-centered bastard who wanted to mark my territory. She probably knew that. But she wasn’t healing the hickey either. Interesting.

  “I assume we’re taking your car,” she said, changing the subject. “Belial’s driver gave us the last one and we’re pretty sure he was the mole who turned us in.”

  “An untrustworthy demon,” I said as I opened the door for her. “Who woulda thunk it?”

  She glared as she passed me. “I’d tell you to bite me, but it looks like it’s too late for that.”

  That stung. Then again, I had walked right into it. I followed her out and we headed down the hallway towards the parking lot. Just as we reached the corner, I heard the unmistakable squawk of a megaphone so I grabbed the hem of her shirt, yanking her back. I pressed us both against the wall, peeking around the corner. What I saw made the blood rush out of my face.

  “James Brennan…we have a warrant for your arrest. Put your hands up and get on your knees or we will open fire.”

  There were two police cars blocking off the lot from the main road and I spotted two more parked in spaces. Four officers stood behind the cars by the exit, their guns drawn with the other four closing in from the rear. Belial stood in the middle, the center of attention as always, his arms at his sides. We were only two floors up so I could see the unnervingly calm expression on his face. I watched as his eyes tracked the policemen. He was sizing them up, a butcher whetting his knife. Things were about to get ugly.

  “How the hell did they find us?” Jordan hissed. “I thought he was covering our tracks.”

  “Maybe people down here actually watch the news,” I said, examining the road leading out of the lot. I couldn’t see from here if there were more of them on the way or if they had blocked the intersection off to prevent an escape route. Damn it.

  “What are we gonna do?”

  I faced her. “What can we do? The guy’s got to have a lawyer who can get him out of this mess.”

  “But in less than forty-eight hours? We have three days to get to the Garden and he’s our only way of contacting Mulciber.”

  “What do you want me to do, Jordan? They’re packing way more heat than the two of us can handle.”

  “Yeah, but guess what the alternative is? We let Belial take them on. He’s no longer bound by demonic law, Michael. How do you think that’s gonna turn out?”

  I gritted my teeth, hating that she was right. Without the contract to tame him, Belial would smear the police all over the asphalt, and he’d do it with a smile. The demon always had a sore spot when it came to human authorities, mostly because he found the concept preposterous. He was a Prince of Hell. To him, they were insects.

  “Brennan, this is your last warning. Put your hands up and get on your knees or we will use deadly force.”

  Belial flashed them a toothy grin and I heard his joyful yet nefarious voice echo across the lot. “Promise?”

  He reached to the small of his back and withdrew a knife about
half the length of his forearm. He examined the way the light bounced off the brilliant silver and then spread his arms wide, as if welcoming them.

  “Have at me.”

  Belial took one step forward. The cops opened fire. Gunshots ripped through the air, but of course the demon had disappeared from view, running so fast that he looked like a white streak from here. I cursed under my breath and grabbed Jordan’s arm, tugging her to the opposite end of the hallway.

  “What the hell are you doing? The bloodbath is that way!” she shouted.

  I hauled her down the flight of stairs and onto the sidewalk. There were a few emergency vehicles closing off the road. I spotted someone coming towards us to tell us to go around. I scanned the line of parked cars on the opposite side of the street until I found what I needed.

  I let go of Jordan as we came up to the side of a large black pickup truck. All the people were crowded near the sectioned off road so there were no witnesses when I punched out the window and unlocked the doors. I’d done a lot of things, but stealing a car hadn’t been one of them recently. Luckily, Jordan grew up in New Jersey with a rough crowd and picked up a few helpful things.

  “Still remember how to hotwire a truck?”

  Jordan unbuttoned her sleeves and rolled them up, still frowning. “Yeah. Whenever you want to enlighten me on what’s going on, I’m all ears.”

  “Just do it, and quickly,” I snapped, walking around to the bed of the truck. I jumped up into it one fluid movement, examining the contents. Three shovels, a rake, four bags of fertilizer, a few empty buckets, a box of nails, and a huge bag of silt. Offhand, this stuff looked pretty useless, but I knelt and checked out the 25 pound bag of silt.

  “Jordan, you still carrying that .38?”

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that’s not gonna scare off the cops with the Glocks.”

  “It doesn’t need to. How much do you bench press?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “How much?”

  “I can take 75 pounds if I’m being macho about it. Why?”

  The truck rumbled to life beneath my sneakers and she climbed out, dusting off her hands. I withdrew my pocketknife and sliced open the top of the silt bag before hopping down.

  “Get in the back. When I signal you, you’re gonna toss the bag in the air. That should give us some cover for when we go get the demon. Right before I ram them, I want one warning shot to get their attention. It should be a quick grab. If Belial refuses to get in, shoot him and throw his ass in.”

  “My pleasure.” She jumped in the back and I climbed into the truck, revving the engine. This plan was stupid, reckless, and probably would result in adding several more crimes to my already long list of indiscretions. I closed my eyes for a second and thought of Juliana. I thought about her chubby brown cheeks, her wily hair, and the dimples that only showed up when she laughed. If I wanted to save her, I’d have to save her piece-of-shit father first. Go figure.

  I hit the gas, hard. The tires screeched and the enormous vehicle pitched forward, gaining momentum. Several cars honked at me as I swerved around them, driving over the median, and two EMTs dove out of the way as the truck smashed through the wooden barriers they’d set up. I shoved the pedal down on the gas as far as it would go and then shouted to Jordan through the open panel in the rear window.

  “Now!”

  Jordan raised her gun and shot once in the air just before the truck smashed through the two cop cars blocking off the parking lot. I spotted Belial near the hotel’s main entrance, his white dress shirt drenched in blood, one officer dangling perilously in his grip. His eyes widened as he saw me slam on the brakes. Jordan tossed the bag of silt, quickly shrouding the area in a thick, stifling mist.

  “Get in!” I heard her shout just before I rolled up the windows. She flattened herself against the bed as the police opened fire again.

  Belial dropped the cop and strode over to the passenger’s side, getting in. I turned on the windshield wipers and swerved around, keeping my head down. Bullets whizzed past, punching holes in the seat cushion between us and puncturing the glass on either side of us. I managed to maneuver the truck back through the way we came. We peeled out into the road and I headed for the nearest highway at breakneck speed.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” I spat at Belial.

  He coughed a couple times, brushing the remains of the silt off his hair and face. “I was defending myself.”

  “You could have run. You could have distracted them with hellhounds. You could have just let them take you and then get one of your fancy lawyers to get you out.”

  “And you could have left me there,” he said with a smug grin. “What’s the matter, Mikey? Did you miss me too much?”

  “No,” I growled. “I just wanted to murder you myself.”

  “How intriguing. I can’t wait.”

  Further arguing was interrupted as police sirens filled the air. We’d wrecked two of their units, but there was another pair coming in hot with their red-and-blue lights blazing. The truck was great for brute strength attacks, but with all this weight, there was a good chance they’d catch up with us.

  “Jordan!” I yelled through the window. “Got anything else back there that can stall them?”

  “Do I look like I have a utility belt?”

  “Stop arguing with me and look, woman!”

  She tossed several things aside and then came up with cardboard box full of nails. “Not sure if this’ll work, but I can try. Can you make a sharp turn soon?”

  “Yeah, hold on!”

  I shot across two lanes and made a left turn that almost flipped the truck, but through the grace of God, we just burned some rubber instead.

  Jordan tossed the nails out, making a wide path behind us. One of the cop cars’ tires punctured and it spun out, smashing into a fire hydrant nearby. The other rolled straight over the nails and kept coming.

  “You have energy shards. Why don’t you just take them out?” Belial asked as his hair whipped over his face from the wind.

  “Cop cars have cameras, genius. Do you really want evidence that demons and angels exist right now?”

  “If the Leviathan rises, that’ll be a moot point, I’d say.”

  “Not an option. Think of something else if you’re so damn smart.”

  “Tell your wife to give me the gun and I’ll shoot out the tires.”

  “Yeah, after you just massacred several people, I’m sure you’ll only shoot out the tires,” I said, making sure he heard the sarcasm over the sound of the sirens.

  I raised my voice again so Jordan could hear me. “Can you hit the tires?”

  “Not with you swerving around like this,” she said, clinging to the edge of the bed with one hand, her pistol in the other.

  I scanned the upcoming road, searching for something else to get rid of our last pigtail. “What if I give you a bigger target?”

  “Like what?”

  “That.” I pointed to the enormous gorilla balloon hovering in front of a car dealership.

  “Seriously?”

  “You got five seconds. Don’t miss.”

  She shook her head at me and then braced her knees against the edge of the bed, propping her elbows on the roof of the truck to steady her. I counted down and she timed it perfectly, shooting three times. The gorilla deflated and fell forward right behind us, covering the front end of the cop car. It veered off the road and hit a tree, completely totaled.

  Jordan climbed in through the window and sat down in the middle, tucking the gun in the small of her back. With her safe inside, I was able to do what I did best—disappear.

  Jordan

  * * *

  THERE WERE FOUR bullet wounds for me to deal with: one in Belial’s right shoulder, one in his left shoulder, and the other two were in his biceps. Apparently, the police had been instructed to take him in alive so they went for non-lethal shots.

  At this point in my life, large amounts of blo
od no longer bothered me. What did bother me was the fact that Michael had left to cover our tracks and update Gabriel, which left me and the demon alone. Bad idea. In Belial’s mind, no Michael, no excuse to behave himself.

  I had a pair of forceps in my hand as I stood over him, carefully trying to grip the bullet in his left shoulder. I kept a fully-stocked medical kit in my panic pack, as I liked to call it. Painkillers were an integral part of said emergency pack, but Belial had refused to take them at first since he liked pain quite a lot. Eventually, I’d stuffed a couple in his mouth. He’d been so impressed by my ruthlessness that he didn’t spit them out. Go figure.

  My problem wasn’t just that the third bullet was lodged in a rather tricky place. It was that the painkillers made him a bit loopy, so he wouldn’t stop touching me. With him sitting on the bed, my legs were what he focused on the most, running his long fingers up and down the back of my thighs. He knew I was ticklish there because Terrell had known that, and I tried my best not to think about it. I slapped his hands away several times until it became too much of a bother so I let him amuse himself. Besides, there were only two more slugs to pry out and then he could heal. I’d just have to deal with the temporary discomfort.

  “Have you ever thought about becoming a nurse?” he asked, trailing his fingertip over the inside of my right thigh.

  I kept my voice level and patient even though he was annoying me. “No. Medical school’s expensive as hell.”

  “Yes, but that was when you were younger. Now you’ve got the angels on your side, so to speak. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind footing the bill.”

  “It’s not just the money. It’s bad enough having the souls of the dead depending on me. I don’t need the living adding to that too,” I said, concentrating as I inched the bullet closer to the opening of the wound.

  “Of course. The ever-so-noble-and-conscientious Jordan. Still, I think it’d be a good fit on you. You have a soft touch. A rather fetching, womanly—Ow!”

  I yanked the slug out, satisfied when he got cut off mid-speech. I dropped the bullet in the trashcan beside the bed and pressed a large wad of gauze to the wound as fresh blood trickled out. “Keep pressure on this.”