Drop Dead Demons

by Kirk, A

  Rose spread his hands. “I bequeathed you the night to think it over, alone, when we could have been together doing much more…pleasurable things.” He winked. “What say you to my proposal?”

  I grimaced. “Down boy.”

  I had thought it over. And talked it over with the Hex Boys who were supposed to keep watch so they could catch Rose next time he showed up and interrogate him. I glanced at Tristan’s house, but no nervous gervous appeared. Glad that plan was working out so well.

  “Oh, come now,” Rose sounded bored. “Do you want me to kill you or not?”

  I was really sick of his cocky attitude, but keeping him talking and buying time seemed my only option. I shoved my nest of curls off my face.

  “Well, when you put it like that.” I bowed slightly. “I’m at your service.”

  “Excellent.” Rose snapped his fingers. “You won’t regret our dalliance. No woman ever does. And once you find the treasure we’ll both have everything we need to be safe. Our loved ones as well.” He waved at my dad.

  “Her aunt’s loading the tranq gun!” Dad called from the front porch. “She doesn’t miss.”

  “Dad, I got this!” I gave him a thumbs-up. “You can go inside.”

  Dad stayed put. Even grabbed the hose and started watering Mom’s flowers while squinting at Rose with disapproval.

  “There must be something wrong with your family. People usually find me irresisti— Ow!” Rose flinched and turned to grab the back of his leg.

  He was wearing shorts, and we could see a thin, shallow gash dripping beads of blood across the back of his calf. We could also see Helsing, feather in his mouth, run off in a blur to disappear behind the garage.

  “Did that feline just bite me?” Rose was thoroughly affronted.

  I stifled a smile. Sometimes I thought my cat knew more about this supernatural stuff than I did.

  “Can we focus?” I said. “What treasure?”

  With a dark look at Helsing’s last location, Rose frowned and started rifling through his mailbag.

  I held up a hand. “Never mind. First, you have to meet with the Hex Boys.”

  Rose looked dubious. “The boys who kidnapped you last night?”

  “Right before you threatened to kill me then left me for dead. What can I say? I keep a misshapen social circle. How’d you get out of the trunk?”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “I’m a Joat.”

  “The outfit’s definitely a joke. You rob the post office?” Although, if anyone could make the frumpy blue postal service shirt and shorts look good, it was Rose.

  He gave me a sultry look. “I was told women love a man in uniform.”

  “Don’t think they were talking about this one,” I smirked.

  “Pity,” he sighed. “My intelligence must be faulty. And it’s not joke, it’s Joat. J-O-A-T. It stands for Jack-of-all-trades. You probably haven’t heard of us. We tend to be considered the Mandatum’s low man on the totem pole. Not much respect.”

  Then like Mary Poppins yanking a floor lamp from her way too small carpet bag, Rose pulled out a large cardboard box, the size of a file drawer, from his small blue mail satchel. I blocked Dad’s view.

  “Taking awfully long to deliver a package!” Dad said.

  “Because you make him nervous!” I motioned for him to go inside.

  “That should make him faster,” Dad pointed out. “What is it anyway?”

  “Uh.”

  Rose whispered, “Tell him it’s the Kama Sutra book you ordered.”

  I yelled over my shoulder, “It’s the Kama Su—” I turned to Rose. “Wait. Isn’t that the—”

  “Ancient text of sexual pleasure?” he nodded. “Yes. Quite riveting. I’d be happy demonstrate. My skills are legendary.”

  “Oh, thanks very much.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “No!” I glared at the impish Rose. “Dad, it’s just some more mythology books!”

  “Admittedly less hedonistically pleasurable, but still an excellent choice of literature.” Rose rested the box in my arms. “Now, I’m not quite as trusting of those boys as you are, but since I know you’re going to show the contents to them anyway, might I suggest not letting them find this.”

  He slapped a piece of parchment on top of the box just under my chin.

  I struggled to get a good grip. Wouldn’t have been surprised if he had stashed an anchor in this thing. “What is it?”

  “Where you must begin your hunt. I’d advise you to get there first. Alone. Because the paper and circumstances could possibly, well, most likely…” he looked pained, “reveal to the Hex Boys that you are the Divinicus.”

  The box slipped through my fingers.

  Rose caught the ridiculously heavy thing one-handed and set it at my feet. “Worry not. As long as you help, I promise to keep your secret. You and your boys get to work. The faster you get through the files, the faster my sister is out of hell, the sooner I don’t have to kill you. Once you have the treasure, I’ll explain our next move. So be quick. I do have a deadline to keep.”

  “What deadline?”

  “Did I not mention it? Details are such a bore.” At my look of irritation, he sighed. “In addition to the deadline I’ve been given for your death, there might be a few — maybe a horde — of demons on their way here for…various purposes.”

  “What purposes?”

  “None good, that I can tell you,” he chuckled then waved a dismissive hand. “But that’s not for a week.”

  “A week!” I struggled to keep my voice low so Dad didn’t come running.

  “Give or take. More take than give. But I have taken precautionary measures.”

  “What pre—”

  “Hide this quickly. They’re coming.” He shoved the parchment into my hand and pointed over my shoulder.

  I stashed it in my pocket and turned, half-scared that the demon horde had already arrived. But Tristan’s front door opened and out came a pack of Hex Boys. About time.

  I whirled back to Rose.

  He was nowhere in sight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I can’t believe you said yes!” Ayden said.

  “Death was my only other option since you guys weren’t around.” I bit my lip. “And if there really is some girl in hell because of me, we should help get her out.” That thought had plagued me during my sleepless night. Sure, I’d always worried about my family being collateral damage from my Divinicus drama, but strangers?

  “If there is a sister,” Ayden growled. “And the killing-you part loses him some sympathy points.”

  “I know but…” I looked around. “None of you saw him?”

  “Not a good look.” Ayden grabbed my hand looking worried. “I woke up, saw you outside talking to a mailman and came running, but he was gone.”

  “I’ll traverse through the security footage.” Jayden jogged back inside the house.

  “We spent the night at Tristan’s to keep an eye on you,” Logan said.

  I frowned. “Where is Tristan?”

  Ayden was scanning the street. “Left at three a.m. to take his grandparents to the airport. They’re headed to Nepal.”

  “On a mission to shut down a mass demon escape.” Blake yawned. “Mandatum got some anonymous tip, so could turn out to be nothing, but they love to volunteer for this kind of stuff. Thought Tristan would never stop yelling at them.”

  So they were hunters.

  “What are their powers?” Guessing it wasn’t being awesome at shuffleboard.

  “Just don’t make them mad.” Blake patted my shoulder. “We wouldn’t have had this problem with Rose if you guys had just let me sleep in babe’s—”

  “Shut up, Blake!”

  The four of us stood around Rose’s stupid box on my lawn. Van Helsing had come back featherless in the boys’ wake. Currently, purring vigorously as he alternated between rubbing his face against my legs and the box. The grind and scream of power tools signaled my aunt was back to
work on whatever in our garage. Dad had gone in to explain — yet again — why she couldn’t start working until she’d given the chance for at least one rooster to crow.

  Ayden rubbed his eyes. “I set the alarm. And we were all taking shifts but…none of us could keep awake.”

  Blake stretched. “I was having some awesome dreams. Taking hula lessons with a flock of half-naked beauties in grass skirts and coconut on their coconuts, if you know what I mean.” He cupped both hands on his chest and wiggled his hips.

  “Please stop.” Ayden put up his arms to block Blake’s gyrations. “Could Rose have drugged us?”

  “No way,” Logan said, but he looked concerned.

  “He said he was a Joat,” I said. “Can they do that?”

  The guys shared a look, but Ayden shook his head.

  “That would take someone powerful, and Joats aren’t that good at anything,” Ayden said.

  Helsing sprung on top of the box and gnawed on a corner.

  I shooed him off. “Go do normal cat things.”

  Which in feline vernacular must have meant sit down and stare at the box. I’d get him a non-supernatural related cardboard plaything later.

  “Let’s see what we can get out of this,” I said.

  Logan knelt and opened the box. Inside was an antique, weathered wooden trunk trimmed with straps of black metal and worn leather.

  Blake grinned. “A treasure chest?”

  Logan pointed to the stylistic letter M burned into the top. “The Mandatum symbol. This can’t be good.”

  When was it ever?

  With a nervous look around, he opened the squeaky, hinged lid.

  No gems or gold, just a mess of files and paperwork.

  Logan plucked out a folder and read, “Flint?”

  “Nathan Flint?” Ayden snatched it and swore under his breath.

  “The European duke who built our high school?” I flinched under their intense looks. “What? I do pay attention in History.”

  Ayden knocked Logan aside and dug into the contents. “This can’t be them. No! Not the Flint files. Logan, call Matthias.”

  Logan walked toward the house and pulled out his phone.

  Something banged in the garage then silence finally blessed the dawn. Until M started yelling at my dad.

  Blake raised his brows. “What exactly is your aunt up to in there?”

  “Some surprise present we can’t see yet.” I started to pick out a folder from the box, but Ayden pushed me away.

  “Blake, get this out of here.” Ayden slapped his folder back into the chest. “Now!”

  “Why are we scared of a file?” I said.

  Ayden hauled the box up with a grunt and dumped it in Blake’s arms. “The less you know, the better. Trust me.”

  “I do.” I put a hand on the box and gave Blake a warning look. “But since it’s my life on the line, let’s take this to my bedroom.”

  “That’s exactly what you said in my dreams last night.”

  “Shut up, Blake.” Ayden shoved him toward the street. “Put them in my car.”

  “Wait.” I slammed a hand into Blake’s abs — ow—and glared at Ayden. “When has you keeping secrets not ended in a huge miscommunication where I wind up chased and nearly killed by demons?”

  Ayden clenched his jaw. “My meeting with Bancroft last night had to do with the Flint files, these files.”

  He slapped a hand on the box and flames erupted, scorching the cardboard and startling Blake into dropping the package which dumped out the trunk and spilled a mess of paperwork onto the lawn. Van Helsing immediately dived into action, pouncing on papers with kitten-like glee.

  “Blake!” Ayden looked stricken and knelt on one knee, dumping aside Helsing, who let out a meow of protest, and gathering papers at a frantic pace.

  Blake started to help. “That’s your fault, dude. Lately you light up at any little thing. What is with you? ”

  “Nothing!” Ayden snapped, then paused and leaned a forearm on his knee. “Well, right now what’s wrong is that these files were stolen from Sophina Cacciatori and by giving them to us, Rose just put us in her crosshairs.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I jumped back from the box like it was grenade and we’d just pulled the pin.

  “Blake, get them out of here!” I ran around to pick up papers blown away by the wind. Wrestled a few from Helsing. They wilted, already damp and flimsy from the dew on the grass. “Why is Cacciatori interested in the long dead Flint?”

  “Because he was Mandatum.” Ayden flipped one file closed and shoved it in the trunk.

  I handed him more papers, noticing some of the ink was smudging, causing words to run together. “A hunter?”

  “Yes and no.” Ayden’s lips thinned. “He was a mechanic.”

  I gasped. “An assassin? Like the guy in the movie?”

  Ayden sighed. “No, a Mandatum mechanic has the ability to invent and put together mechanical…contraptions. And in Flint’s case he could create machines way beyond what was available in the late 1800s.”

  Blake squished more papers into the box. “His old house — the high school — is rigged with all sorts of hidden doors and secret passageways. And some weird gizmos that even the Mandatum can’t figure out.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ayden said. “The Mandatum shut all that stuff down a long time ago.”

  Blake deepened his voice to an ominous tone. “But you should worry that Flint was an evil man who practiced the dark arts, did weird experiments, and was known to,” he hissed the next words, “raise the dead.”

  “Blake, those were stupid rumors,” Ayden said, then stood and gave my shoulders a comforting rub. “The truth is that when they found the hell portal here in Gossamer Falls, Flint was the guy they sent to watch over it and manage the hunters who came through to guard it. Basically, what Father Bancroft does now.”

  Blake said, “He built cool machines to clear the passageways to the portal and maintain security.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “The portal that’s behind the waterfall? The portal that you won’t let me see?”

  Ayden gave me a tired look. “It’s safer that way.”

  “True, babe. Portals are dangerous. Can suck you right into the bowels of hell if you’re not careful.”

  Yeah. Not good.

  “But Flint died over a hundred years ago,” I said. “Why is the file important now?”

  Ayden rubbed his jaw. “Remember I mentioned the school had a dark history?”

  I raised my brows. “I believe you said ‘insane asylum.’”

  Ayden smoothed back his hair with both hands. “When Flint ran things, hunters from everywhere passed through his estate all the time. Everything ran perfectly until the Mandatum found out Flint was a serial killer.”

  “Told ya,” Blake nodded. “Dead were raised. Zombies roamed.”

  “There were no zombies,” Ayden said, giving Blake an irritated glance. “But at some point Flint started quietly killing off hunters and stealing their Mandatum artifacts. No record of exactly what, but probably jewelry, books, weapons, art. Whatever the psycho could get his hands on.”

  “Priceless and powerful stuff for sure, babe.”

  I hugged myself. “Anything that would help Rose get his sister?”

  “Don’t know.” Ayden shrugged. “Mandatum couldn’t find it. Flint went insane before they could get him to talk.”

  Blake was trying to stuff way too many pages into a thin file folder. “Then, so they could spend years looking for it, they turned the house into an insane asylum.”

  “It was a good cover,” Ayden said. “Became a prestigious facility which made a healthy profit, and if anyone saw anything weird, they were crazy. Right?”

  “Clever,” I said. And creepy. “But they never found it?”

  “The legend of Flint’s lost treasure lives on,” Blake grinned.

  Ayden blew out air. “Every now and then someone living out their Indiana Jones fantasy com
es looking for it. Like—”

  “Rose,” I murmured remembering Rose’s attire from last night.

  “With the files stolen,” Ayden said, “the Mandatum assumes another treasure hunter is on the way, and we’re supposed to stop that because if there is a treasure, the society wants it. If we admit we have the files they’ll demand to know how we got them, probably send a team.” Ayden punched the air and growled, wisps of smoke trailed from his fist making curly designs in the air. “Ugh! Rose. I hate this guy. Let’s just kill him. He already threatened Aurora so we just lure him—”

  The ground underneath Ayden bucked hard enough to almost knock him off his feet. He steadied himself and made a face at Blake.

  The big guy shrugged. “Gotta chill, dude. We can’t kill a fellow hunter in cold blood. We need a council directive termination order classified as extreme prejudice. Besides, babe is fine.”

  Sure. For now.

  “Why is Cacciatori so interested?” I asked in what I hoped was a casual voice. “Is there a Divinicus connection?”

  “Not that I know of.” Ayden wiped a hand down his face.

  Lucian poked his head out of the front door. “Aurora, you should get Ayden out of here. Remember Aunt M’s breakfast conversation?”

  “Lucian, don’t even!” I warned, just as Aunt M pushed past Lucian onto the front porch.

  She saw us and ordered, “You two hurry up. Your boyfriend is giving me a ride to the church.”

  Ayden raised a brow. “I am?”

  “Since when?” I said.

  “Since I told your father you were no nun.” She ducked back inside.

  “That would do it.” My sigh came out a growl.

  Ayden looked me up and down, then grinned and headed for my brother. “Hey, Lucian, I’m thinking I need more details about this breakfast conversation.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dad decided that Aunt M’s big belly was too tight a squeeze to be safe in Ayden’s small sport’s car, so we’d dodged that bullet, and before he changed his mind, headed to school with a screech of rubber.

  The Gothic wonderland that Flint built, and what we now called high school, was a monolith of carved stone, with lofty archways, spires that pierced the heavens, soaring turrets protected by grim gargoyles, towers awaiting their damsels, and miles of twisted hallways for a girl to get lost in. It belonged on the misty moors of medieval England with bustle-skirted beauties, waistcoated gentlemen, and Gothic romance lovers stealing secret kisses in dark alcoves.