by D. G. Swank
The little boy made a face.
“Let’s go try it, okay?”
“Okay,” he said with a huff.
We got up, and I held his hand as we walked down the stairs. Once we reached the kitchen, he went out his back door and I went out mine. We were reunited outside, and he grabbed my hand without saying a word and walked to the tire swing.
I pushed him for several minutes before the rain came again.
“Why is it raining?” I asked.
He gave me a confused look.
“The last time I visited, it was nice when we came outside but then it started to rain. Just like today. Why?”
His confusion deepened. “Because it’s raining.”
“Did it rain the day you—” I cut myself off before I said ‘died’. “Before you got hit by the car?”
He nodded but refused to meet my eyes.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Rain makes the flowers grow.”
That perked him up. “Mommy likes flowers.”
I smiled, but it was a struggle. We were getting somewhere, but I wasn’t sure it was fast enough.
“Tommy, sometimes when people get hit by a car, it’s really, really bad,” I pressed.
He nodded, giving me a solemn look. “I was hurted really bad.”
“Sometimes people who get hurt really bad die.”
He gave me a blank look.
“Sometimes they get hurt so bad the doctors can’t fix them.”
“That’s sad,” he said, pumping his little legs.
“Yes, it is.”
“Too bad they couldn’t come home like me.”
“Sometimes people die and come home anyway,” I said softly.
He stared at me in horror. “How could they come home and be dead?”
“Because they’re ghosts.”
His mouth dropped open and he started to cry.
Had I made a breakthrough? I stopped the swing and knelt on the ground in front of him, holding his hand. “Why are you crying, sweet boy?”
“Ghosts scare me,” he whispered. Then he disappeared.
Great.
I tromped back into the house and up the stairs. This time I found him crying under the bed—well, it was a bed in his world, but a craft desk in mine.
I slid in next to him. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“The monster said I had to tell you something.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Monster?” He’d mentioned a monster earlier, but I’d presumed he meant Beth.
“It’s scary and ugly, and it wants to meet you.”
Oh. Fuck.
That’s when my hand began to burn.
“We have to get out.” I dropped my hold on him and scrambled out from under the desk, but he stayed underneath, squinting his eyes closed and shaking. “Tommy,” I said, trying to stay calm. “Is the monster here now?”
“He’s watching you.”
I held out my hand to him. “Come out.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m scared.”
“Tommy,” I said, starting to tear up. “Please come out. I won’t let the monster get you.” But even as I made the promise, I knew I was a fool. My daggers were in the trunk of my car. There was nothing I could do to protect either of us.
He remained still.
“Tommy.” I reached for him, but he disappeared again.
“Dammit!”
I heard a laugh.
Bolting down the stairs, I dug my car keys out of my pocket. Once I hit the front step, I repeatedly pressed the button to pop the trunk lid as I sprinted toward the car. I briefly considered calling Jack, but there was no way he’d gotten his stitches yet. There was also no way I was leaving Tommy alone with a demon.
I slipped my bag over my head and across my body, grabbed the daggers, then ran for the front door. If the neighbors were watching, I had no doubt they thought I was a lunatic, but at the moment, I didn’t really care.
“Tommy!” I shouted as I crossed the threshold of the front door. The burning in my hand was stronger than before, but I was more concerned about the icy chill that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. That was usually reserved for ghosts. “Tommy!” I sounded slightly hysterical, but I didn’t really care. I needed to get Tommy out of this unscathed.
I heard him whimper, the sound coming from upstairs.
I transferred Ivy to my left hand with St. Michael, freeing my right hand to pull out a container of salt and pour it across the threshold of the front door.
“Why did you pick this house?” I asked as I stepped sideways into the kitchen.
“Because of the boy,” a guttural voice called out from upstairs.
Where Tommy was.
Why had I been so stupid? A demon had already used Tommy to get to me. He was a natural target for another one. I should have salted all the openings in the house and instructed Beth on how to maintain them.
“Well, it worked,” I said. “I’m here. Leave him alone, and you and I can have a chat.”
“I’ve grown fond of him,” it said, and Tommy whimpered again.
My breath was coming in rapid pants as I dropped the salt back into the bag and gripped both blades in my fists. Maybe I hadn’t planned to slay a demon, but I was open to the idea.
I climbed the steps, the temperature dropping with each step until I could see my breath by the time I reached the top of the stairs.
Get it together, Piper. Tommy needs you.
“Tommy?” I called out, grateful I sounded calmer. His bedroom door was closed, and the wood floor outside of it was covered in frost. That must explain the chill I felt downstairs.
Was I really going to face this thing alone? Jack and Olivia had been at Mrs. O’Keefe’s house with me, and I’d barely come out in one piece.
Tommy whimpered again.
Hell yes, I was. I briefly realized that was what the demon wanted—for me to attack out of my emotional need to save a child—but so be it.
I gave the door a slight push and then kicked it open.
The demon stood in the center of the room, holding Tommy against its chest with one arm. The little boy’s legs were kicking frantically, and the fear on his face was nearly my undoing.
The demon looked almost identical to the one I’d fought in the garage—tall, fat, bald, and dark gray, only it didn’t have a blue flame in its hand. Instead, it held what looked like a giant floating snowflake.
“I met your ugly brother earlier,” I said, walking into the room and meeting a blast of freezing air that burned my lungs.
“We are neither male nor female. I can have no brother.”
“Well, your buddy then,” I said in exasperation. “It liked to play with fire.”
“My wombmate,” it said. “Bartholis.”
Wombmate or roommate? If the former… These things had been birthed?
“Bartholis.” I moved a step closer, my daggers positioned to attack. “And what’s your name?”
“Euclides.”
“Y’all really need to work on the names,” I said. “Modern times and all that.”
It gave me a confused look.
“Tommy said you wanted to meet me.” I held my hands out to my sides, the daggers extended. “Well, here I am. Put him down and we can get to business.”
The demon ran a hand over Tommy’s head. “I like the boy. His energy is unlike that of most ghosts. His innocence is delicious.” Then it leaned in and licked Tommy’s cheek.
Tommy cringed and tears rolled down his cheeks.
I nearly jumped out of my skin with panic. “Why do you want a ghost at all?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you be sucking the energy out of cats like your friends?”
“I like the boy.”
The words made me cringe. I had to get Tommy away from it. Something completely reckless came to mind, but it was the only idea I had.
“What if I give you something else?”
It made a disgusted face. “I don’t want a cat.”
&nb
sp; “Not a cat.” I took a breath. “A taste of me.”
The demon’s eyes widened, and a smile played on its lips. “Go on.”
“Put the boy down and let him walk out of the room, and I’ll let you have a taste of my blood.”
It tilted its head sideways, giving me a puzzled look. “You will willingly give me your blood?”
“I’m not stupid enough to let you drink directly from me, but I’ll give you some of my blood to taste.”
“And if I let the boy go, how do I know you’ll follow through on your offer?”
“Because I’m giving you my word. You fulfill your part of the deal, and I’ll do the same.”
Euclides dropped the boy. Tommy fell to his feet, then ran to me and wrapped his arms around my legs.
“Go downstairs and wait by the front door,” I said in a stern voice.
He looked up at me in surprise.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
His glance shifted to the demon and then back again. “But the monster will hurt you.”
“No,” I said firmly even though I was terrified. “It won’t. But I need you to go downstairs.”
He gave me one last squeeze, his arms so tight it was hard to remember he was a spectral being, and left the room.
The demon’s face lit up with a grotesque smile. “Time for you to give me your blood, demon slayer.”
“I’ll put it on something for you to lick it off of.”
Its eyes narrowed. “I want to drink your blood. Unless I lick it off your skin.”
“The last demon that tasted my blood would have sold its soul for more.” Okay, Abel wasn’t a demon (probably), and I’d slightly exaggerated what he’d said, but I wasn’t going to beat myself up for lying to a demon. “You’ll be thankful for every drop you can get.”
“If it’s that good, why would I be happy with a few drops?”
“I never said the other demon was happy to stop.”
“A few drops won’t do.”
“You never negotiated the amount. Only that you get a taste.”
The temperature in the room suddenly plunged, dropping rapidly enough to make the glass on the window completely frost over. Frost crystals filled the air like miniature but immobile snowflakes.
“Don’t toy with me, slayer,” the demon sneered as it took a step toward me. “I am in charge here.”
“Actually,” I said, holding my ground, daggers at the ready. “I’m in charge.” I transferred Ivy to my left hand again, then jabbed both dagger tips into the flesh of my palm. I expected to feel sharp pain, but there was only a twinge when I pulled them out. Blood quickly pooled on the surface of my skin, and I turned my hand over and let it drip onto the floor.
The demon growled and started to lunge for me, then stopped with a strange look on its face. Its expression turned to something resembling lust. “That smell.”
“I’m not usually one to say I told you so, but…”
The demon dropped to the ground and cleaned the blood off the floor with two licks. It stared up at me with glowing pale blue eyes. “More.”
“I only promised a taste.”
Its face lit up. “And I promised to let the boy go. Our agreement has been fulfilled. Time to renegotiate.”
I must have cut myself more deeply than I’d intended, because there was a nice pool of blood in my cupped palm. “Why would I negotiate with you? I got what I wanted.”
“Yet you’re still here.” It licked its bottom lip. “Your blood tastes so pure, like raw power. You are a witness to creation.”
“So I’ve been told.”
It looked surprised. “Been told? You haven’t seen it for yourself?”
What was it talking about? “No.”
“The others will come find you. They will track you down and want you for their own.”
“Sorry,” I said while I backed out of the room, trying not to slip on the frost-covered floor. “I don’t share well with others.”
Its eyes glowed again. “Neither do I.”
I had to make a split-second decision—try to kill this demon, or distract it so Tommy and I could escape. The sound of Tommy crying downstairs made up my mind for me. I wasn’t sure I was making the right decision, but so be it.
“I’ll give you blood,” I said. “And since I’m so generous, I’ll give it to you for free.”
The demon’s eyes narrowed. “What trick is this?”
“No trick.” I held out my cupped palm and its nose twitched. “You said you wanted to lick it from my flesh. Come, drink up.”
It took a wary step toward me, then glanced down at the blades in my hand. “Put down the weapons.”
“Sure, I’ll put down my daggers as soon as you remove your teeth.”
It grinned again, showing its sharp incisors this time. “You make a good point.” Then its grin spread wider. “I accept.”
“Catch.” I flung my hand, spraying blood droplets all over the floor and the wall.
The demon growled and started to lunge for me, but just as I’d hoped, the smell of my blood seemed to overpower its anger. It fell to the floor, licking my blood from the wood like a kid would attack an ice cream bowl.
Part of me took perverse pleasure from watching it lick the floor, but I told myself to stop gloating and finish what I’d started.
The demon had scooted along the floor, licking up my blood quicker than I’d expected. Without warning, I jumped onto its back and plunged my daggers, both of them still clutched in my left hand, into its back, shoving with all my might. I needed to reach the glowing orb I knew was buried deep within the demon, and it quickly became apparent the daggers were too short.
Dammit.
The demon howled and flung me off its back, flipping onto its butt. Its eyes glowed a bright blue as it released a low growl. The floor became icy and frost raced up the walls to the ceiling. It was like we’d been plunged into the Arctic Circle.
I could feel my body becoming sluggish, so I pushed my new power to the surface of my skin. It warmed me enough to melt the flash-frozen blood on my palm. I flung my arm toward the wall, splattering it with more blood, but the demon wasn’t so easily distracted this time. I tossed Ivy toward my right hand and caught it—a trick Davis had made me practice until I’d been sick to death of it.
Lunging toward the demon, I stabbed St. Michael into its gut and then drew the blade up through its flesh. The demon roared and bent down to bite my neck or shoulder, but I leaned back and shoved Ivy into its eye with enough force that the blade got stuck in bone.
The demon screamed and reached up to claw my arm, but I dropped to a squat. Screaming again, this time in apparent frustration, it grabbed the blade in its eye and used both hands to pry it out, leaving its chest exposed.
That was all the invitation I needed. Raising St. Michael, my arm perpendicular to my chest, I threw all my weight into plunging the dagger into the demon’s chest.
Euclides shrieked, then collapsed onto its back and disintegrated into a pile of ash. A small, glowing orb began to rise from the soot, and I pierced it with St. Michael. Several dozen tiny lights began to float away. As I watched them go, I lowered my butt to the floor, trying to catch my breath.
One more demon dead and who knew how many more to go.
The thought exhausted me, but I had other things to worry about—like the little boy sobbing in the living room downstairs.
I picked up Ivy, then got to my feet and stared at the mess. If I kept this up, I was going to have to create a contract stating that I wouldn’t be held liable for messes and destruction. I had a feeling Beth wouldn’t be nearly as understanding as Mrs. O’Keefe had been.
“Pip—per,” Tommy hiccupped with a sob.
“I’m okay. I’m coming.” I hurried down the stairs and found him waiting by the front door, just like I’d told him to do. Falling to my knees, I dropped the blades to the floor and scooped him into my arms.
“I was so scared the monster would hurt
you,” he said as he wrapped his arms around my neck.
“I’m okay,” I said into his hair. “It didn’t hurt me and it’s gone.”
“Where did it go?”
“Somewhere it can’t hurt you anymore, but we have to go.” I pulled back to look into his face. “I need you to trust me. I need you to come with me.”
His eyes flew wide. “Where?”
I only knew one place to take him. “Home.”
Chapter 16
“This is my home,” he said in a soft whine.
“Not anymore, Tommy. Beth doesn’t want you here, so I want you to come live with me.”
His mouth dropped open.
“Do you want to come live with me?”
He hesitated, and for a moment I feared he was going to say no, but then he slowly nodded.
“Have you ever gone into the front yard?” I asked.
Tears filled his eyes again. “Mommy says I can’t go out front. Or I’ll get runned over.”
“That’s only if you’re alone,” I said. “I won’t let that happen.”
He looked uncertain, but he finally said, “Okay.”
I pushed out a sigh of relief. “We’re going to go out front and get in my car.”
I hoped this worked. I knew ghosts could move to different places, often by attaching themselves to objects, but it was also possible for them to attach themselves to people. Hopefully he could do that with me, and hopefully it wouldn’t have long-term, detrimental consequences.
Taking his hand in mine, I walked out the front door. He hesitated on the porch.
“You okay?” I asked, trying to hide my concern.
He nodded, but tears filled his eyes again. “I’m scared.”
I squatted next to him so we were eye level. “Don’t be scared. I’m going to take care of you. Okay? You’re not alone anymore.” I stood and saw two women walking down the sidewalk behind two small children. The women were gaping at me with a mixture of curiosity and horror.
“It’s okay,” I called out to them. “I’m just dealing with a ghost.”
They broke eye contact and hurried forward to shepherd their children away, walking twice as quickly as before.
“Come on, Tommy.” I gently tugged him down the steps toward the car. I wondered how this would work. When I held his hand, I was usually in his world, which overlapped my own, but that had changed now that we’d left the house. We were holding hands, yet we were firmly rooted in the present.