Daemon Persuasion

by S. K. Gregory

  “I’m, uh, I’m trying to find a relative and someone said Mr. Black might know something about them.”

  “I see,” Florence said, giving her one last calculating look. “Yeah, he lives up Creek Road. I’ll draw you a map.”

  “That’s great. Thank you.”

  Mackenzie waited while Florence painstakingly drew a crude map. She handed it to MacKenzie, then said, “I don’t know if he’ll talk to you or not. Since the fire, he don’t get out much.”

  MacKenzie wondered if the fire had anything to do with her father. The time frame fit. She hoped not though or Ed Black might not be willing to help her.

  “Stupid phone,” she heard someone mutter. She glanced up to find a young man with blonde hair, dressed in a black business suit that looked like he had slept in it. He was cursing at the cell phone in his hand, while stabbing buttons on it. He tossed it onto the counter and sighed.

  He saw her looking and blushed, “Sorry the thing has been driving me crazy all day.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. He was hot. His smile was contagious and she couldn’t help but return it. About her age, nice hair, white teeth, pleasant face. With that tan, he would have been better placed on a beach somewhere, not in a suit. His ice blue eyes seemed to look right through her.

  She reached into her pocket and handed him her own cell phone.

  “You can use mine if you like.”

  “Really? You don’t mind? I’m kind of on a deadline and I need to check something with my boss.”

  “Knock yourself out,” she said. He took the phone and moved away to make his call.

  Florence offered her a coffee and she accepted.

  “Think you can find Mr. Black from that map I drew you?”

  “I think so, thanks. Just out of curiosity you haven’t heard of a man called Sebastian King, have you?”

  Florence frowned, “The name sounds vaguely familiar but I can’t place it. Sorry.”

  Mackenzie nodded and turned back to the hottie with her phone. He finished his call and handed it back to her.

  “Thanks you’re a life saver. I’m Luke by the way.”

  “Mackenzie. No problem.” She slipped the phone into her pocket along with the map.

  “Can I buy you another coffee to say thank you?” Luke said.

  “I would love to, but I actually have an errand to run.”

  “That’s okay, if you’re around later on, say around six, maybe we could get one then?”

  “Yeah, maybe. Bye Luke.”

  She glanced back as she left and was pleased to see that he was watching her. East Falls had something to offer after all.

  She checked into a small motel and changed her clothes to jeans and a plain t-shirt, to look more approachable to Ed. She tied her hair back in a ponytail and checked her reflection. Completely non threatening. Exactly what she was going for.

  Florence’s map turned out to be easy to follow. Ed’s house was little more than a shack surrounded by an overgrown lawn, strewn with car parts. The screen door hung off its hinges and paint peeled off the walls. A red truck was up on ramps in the driveway, its wheels long gone. Ed is in need of an extreme makeover, Mackenzie thought.

  She maneuvered around the debris up to the front door and knocked. After a few minutes she tried again. Cupping her hands, she stepped close to the window, peering in, but it was too dark inside to see anything.

  When no one answered, she went around back. Sitting in a rocking chair on the back porch, was a man with a Yankees baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. He was staring out at the empty field beyond his house.

  “Mr. Black?” Mackenzie called.

  “Get lost,” he snapped, not looking up.

  “Mr. Black, I need to speak to you.”

  “Are you deaf? Get off my property.”

  “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but I really need to ask you something.”

  He leapt up out of the chair and turned to face her. Mackenzie gasped before she could stop herself. His face was badly scarred and one of his eyes was so damaged that it was completely white.

  “That’s right, take a good look,” he snapped.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

  “Get out of here.”

  “Please, I just need to know if you know where a man called Sebastian King is.”

  He narrowed his eyes, “Who’s asking?”

  “I’m his daughter.”

  “Bullshit, he never had a kid.”

  “He doesn’t know about me. Annie Murphy is my mother.”

  “She left town years ago.”

  “I know, she was pregnant with me at the time.”

  “That must have been after the fire. I don’t remember much from that time.” He turned away from her cursing under his breath.

  “Do you know where my father is?”

  “No. Stupid bastard should have been more careful,” he muttered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means there are some people put on this earth aren’t supposed to procreate and he was one of them.”

  “Do you know where he is or not?”

  “He’s dead. In the same fire that did this,” he pointed at his own grotesque face. “Now get off my property.”

  Disappointment flooded through Mackenzie. After all the years, all the daydreaming about one day finding her real dad, only to find out he was dead. She walked around town trying to clear her head.

  She had no reason to stay around now, she should keep going to San Francisco. Back at the motel she picked up her things. She was heading for her car when someone called out to her.

  Two men were standing behind her. One was short and bald with glasses; the other wasn’t much older than she was with spiked dark hair, dark eyes and a venomous look on his face. Their clothes were odd and out of place. A lot of leather for the younger one. The older one looked like some kind of urban cowboy.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, keeping her distance.

  “No, but we have someone in common—Sebastian King. We heard you were looking for him.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “We’re looking for him too. If you tell us what you know, we’ll tell you what we know.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that Sebastian King was dead, that he was wasting his time but instead she said, “You first. What do you know about him?”

  He smiled, “Not out in the open my dear, let’s go inside. We have a room.”

  She followed them at a distance and once inside stood by the open door.

  “We wish you no harm, I assure you,” the bald man said, sitting on one of the single beds. The other, who was obviously the muscle, stood watching her.

  “My name is Cray by the way, this is Taryn.”

  “Cut to the chase. What do you know about King?” Mackenzie snapped.

  “Very well. King has been off the radar for a number of years now. No one from our side can track him down. The last place anyone saw him was here, in this town. I’m surprised they would send someone so young or did they hope you would entice him into the open?”

  Mackenzie stayed silent and let him draw his own conclusions. Their side? She didn’t like the sound of that. Could he have been a career criminal, mob connected?

  “The bounty on his head is substantial, if you have any information, we could cut you in,” Cray said. He thought her interest was financial.

  “Look, I’m not about to give you anything without something in return. You want to share, you go first.”

  Cray glanced up at Taryn who tensed, as if he was ready to attack. His face seemed to be set in a permanent scowl. He had a scar above his left eyebrow, she noticed.

  “Well, if you have nothing to say, guess I’ll be going.” She turned to leave.

  “A lot of people have looked for King over the years. Every one of them gave up. I didn’t. What he did, betraying his kind—he deserves to die. I don’t care about the bounty; I want King
’s head on a platter.

  “What he did was before my time. I’ve heard stories, but it sounds like you were there,” Mackenzie said.

  “There was a time I considered him...a friend. But he always had a weakness for humans.”

  “As opposed to...” What had she gotten herself into? His kind, weakness for humans? What the hell was going on here?

  “His own kind. Demons are a dying breed and he would have happily wiped us all out,” Cray spat.

  Okay, the train has officially arrived at crazy town, Mackenzie thought. Obviously, this guy had just escaped from an asylum somewhere. Demons? Was Cray telling her that her father was a demon? Good God, she thought, what does that make me? The shadow that came when she called—was that also a demon protecting its own? She couldn’t wrap her mind around what Cray was saying. He had to be a religious nut. The kind that stood outside bus station with signs that read, ‘Repent Now.’ He could not be talking about a real live demon. And her father, no less.

  “Yeah, I should get going. I’m busy. Good luck with whatever,” she backed out of the room as quickly as possible.

  Cray looked at Taryn. Taryn vanished in a red mist before her eyes. Before she could react, someone grabbed her arms from behind. It was Taryn.

  “How the hell did you do that?” she blurted. He held her steady. This day had turned into her worse nightmare, full of terrifying monsters and tricks of magic. Because that’s the only thing that made sense.

  “It’s your turn to share, young lady,” Cray said.

  She considered screaming but it was doubtful anyone would come to her aide.

  “You know more than me. Let me go.”

  “What kind of demon are you?” Cray asked.

  Demon? Sweat trickled down her ribcage. She’d come here to find her dad and now she was being detained by men who thought she was a demon. Her mind scrambled to keep up with the weird turn of events. Play along, she thought, unable to process what was happening. “Release me or you’ll find out,” she threatened.

  “Bring her inside,” Cray said. If they got her inside, she might not come out again. She brought her head back smashing it into Taryn’s nose. He let go of her arms and she drove an elbow into his gut, sending him sprawling.

  Without waiting to see what damage she’d done, she spun and took off running across the parking lot.

  Taryn appeared in front of her and they collided with each other.

  Before she could react, he’d grabbed her arm, flinging her onto the pavement. He threw his body across hers, trying to pin her down. She dug her nails into his face. Blood from his nose, splattered her shirt, but she refused to quit. They struggled together until Cray caught up.

  “Can’t you contain one little girl?” he cried.

  Taryn grabbed her by the wrists, “Enough!” he commanded, speaking for the first time.

  She opened her mouth to call the Shadow when a guest at the motel came out of his room.

  “What’s going on out there?” he called.

  “Nothing to trouble yourself with, sir,” Cray called back, “My children had a disagreement. You know what teenagers are like.”

  The man muttered something about respect and went back inside. Mackenzie pulled her hand free and punched Taryn in the face. He fell away from her and she scrambled to her feet, making it to her car before they caught up. Her hands shook as she unlocked the car and climbed in. It took two tries to get the key in the ignition, but she made it.

  Pedal to the floor, she screeched out of the parking lot. She expected Taryn to do his magic act and appear in the car with her, but he didn’t. Hopefully he was unconscious.

  Her hand hurt from connecting with Taryn’s cheekbone. She flexed her hand and discovered an imprint on her hand. In the fight, she must have grabbed the necklace she’d noticed him wearing. She stared at her hand, the impression of an eagle bright red against her palm.

  Chapter 4

  At a truck stop a few miles outside East Falls, Mackenzie stopped, taking a minute to get her bearings. Not one thing about what just happened made any sense to her. Why would Taryn and Cray think she and her dad were demons? What the hell was a demon anyway? A real live one from the depths of hell? Or a nickname the mob or whoever he worked for used? She shook her head, unable to make sense of it.

  She had planned on driving straight back to LA and forgetting the whole thing but seeing the eagle emblem had stopped her. Taryn was the one who had set fire to the road and caused her to wreck her bike, probably on Cray’s orders, yet neither of them seemed to know who she was. Were they after her because she had asked questions about her dad?

  It didn’t make any sense and she wasn’t too eager to go up against them after Taryn’s little magic act. She had to admit he was good, but not good enough to make her believe they were actual demons. That was ludicrous. Says the girl who can summon a psychotic Shadow, she thought, dryly.

  She bought a cup of coffee and sat in the back to formulate a plan. Caffeine helped her focus although she was hyperactive enough without it. Her dad was dead, but she still wanted to know what happened to him. Why were they looking for him? And how long before they figured out that she was his daughter? Now that they knew about her, they’d be after her for answers she didn’t have. She had two choices—leave or stay.

  Either way, they knew she lived in LA. Better to deal with this now than to have to look over her shoulder at home, wondering when they’d appear.

  Back in town she parked her car behind a dumpster near the town hall, Mackenzie found a baseball cap under the back seat from whomever had the car before her. She put it on. It wasn’t much of a disguise but she had to work with what she had.

  As she walked the streets she tried to act like she belonged, stopping to look in store windows while keeping an eye out for Cray and Taryn. She checked out the local businesses. If one of them was long standing, then the owner might remember her dad and the fire. In a town this small she was sure most of the businesses were family owned. She tried a hardware store first called Brannigan’s and Son.

  The man behind the counter was balding and slightly overweight. His round cheeks were red, his deep set eyes curious. He wore a plaid shirt and an apron with the store name printed on it.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Hi, I’m a journalism student from up state.” The lie came easy to her lips. “I’m doing a paper on East Falls’ history and I was looking for information on the fire that happened here twenty years ago.”

  He raised an eyebrow, “You’re doing a paper on this town? I can’t tell you much more about the fire than what was in the papers. The owner, Ed, was in the store late one night doing inventory. Apparently, an oil lamp fell and started the fire. The store was full of old furniture so it went up pretty fast.”

  “Was Ed the only one in the store? I was speaking to someone earlier who said he had a man staying with him.”

  “That Sebastian kid? No, he left town a few days earlier. Strange kid. Didn’t say much to anyone, although he had a soft spot for Annie Murphy. She left town too but I don’t think they left together. Saw her moping around town for a while. I think he broke her heart.”

  “Have you ever seen him since?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Thanks. That will help with my paper.”

  “Shouldn’t you write it down?” he asked.

  “No, that’s okay. Photographic memory,” she tapped her head.

  Outside the store, she paused, thinking over what she’d just learned. So, her dad was gone when the fire started. Gone or dead? Lost in thought she almost didn’t see Cray heading towards her. At the last minute, she caught a glimpse and ducked into a store doorway. Cray passed on by, talking on his cell. She strained to listen to what he was saying but she only caught a few words—‘still looking, more time.’ Looking for what? Her? Something or someone else? Either way she needed to be more careful. She didn’t need another run in with those two.

  “Hey kid,
no loitering. Buy something or leave,” the owner barked. She could hear a faint Irish accent from him. He put a tray of rolls into the oven behind the counter. Wiping sweat from his brow, he stood by the cash register waiting for her to order.

  The smell made her mouth water. Stepping up to the counter she stared at the pastries on display, trying to get her head on straight. A tall woman, with short grey hair, walked out of the back. She glanced at Mackenzie, then did a double take.

  “Oh my God,” she gasped, crossing herself. Painfully thin, the woman’s face and care-worn gray eyes revealed years of worry and sadness.

  “Mary? What’s wrong?”

  “Patrick, look,” she pointed at Mackenzie, “She looks just like Annie.”

  “Annie? Annie Murphy?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Yes, how do you know Annie?” Mary asked.

  “She’s my mother.”

  Mary’s eyes widened, “Her daughter?” she looked at her husband, who had gone pale.

  “Yes. Who are you?” Well over six feet he stood ramrod straight. With his close-cropped gray hair, Mackenzie guessed a military background.

  “Annie’s parents. I guess, your grandparents,” Mary said.

  Information overload. Her mother never mentioned grandparents so she just assumed they were dead. Mary came out from behind the counter and hugged her tightly. Patrick still looked shocked.

  “Mary, can I speak to you?” he said.

  “Look at you. You’re so beautiful,” Mary cooed. Mackenzie smiled uneasily.

  “Mary. A word.” Patrick said, sternly.

  Mary did as she was told and followed him into the back, giving Mackenzie a chance to catch her breath. She had grandparents. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She and her mother had been alone for so long, no family, no connections anywhere that Mackenzie knew about. Her attention went back to the two talking heatedly, heads close together. Patrick didn’t look happy and Mary was trying to calm him down. Finally, they came back out.

  “I don’t mean to be rude but do you have any proof that you are Annie’s daughter?” Patrick said.

  “I, um, I have a driver’s license with my name on it?” She pulled it out of her jeans and handed it to him. It was all she could think of. He scrutinized it before heaving a sigh.