Drop Dead Demons

by Kirk, A

I made a face. “Bet it made it easy to kidnap and transport his murder victims without anyone ever seeing him.”

  “Chick-a-dee, that’s not even the creepiest part. Look.” Blake gave a dramatic shiver as he poked at two tunnel intersections, his touch turning them bright yellow. “Almost all the tunnels eventually meet at two locations. The high school and the portal.”

  “Why would he build so many secret tunnels to the portal?” Tristan said.

  Logan shrugged and leaned closer to squint at the map. “They never found the bodies of Flint’s victims.”

  Silence saturated the room because…

  I cringed, “Ew, he threw the bodies into the portal?”

  “Sick and efficient,” Ayden said.

  Logan walked slowly around the hologram. “You didn’t find the rooms?”

  Blake frowned. “What rooms?”

  “The treasure he stole.” Logan loosened his tie. “The Mandatum says it could fill three cargo trains. But other than the portal cave there aren’t any open spaces. Where could he store it?”

  “I think some stuff is still hidden from my ability.” Blake enlarged an area underneath the school. “Here seems to be part of an open space. Has a bunch of mechanical stuff.”

  Logan shook his head. “It’s not big enough.”

  Blake expanded the hologram around the mountains. “There are some gaps and dead-ends here. I could try mapping the ones that head out of town.”

  “How does Rose expect us to search through all this?” Tristan flung a hand at the map, then paced frantically, arms flapping. “There’s a hoard of demons coming. And Cacciatori. And tactical teams. We don’t have that kind of time!”

  “You can’t search it anyway.” I met their quizzical looks with a steadiness I did not feel. “It has to be me.”

  Ayden shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

  I wasn’t crazy about it either, but…

  “When Logan and I were in the tunnels, the security system tried to kill him, but not me.” I lifted one shoulder. “I don’t know why, but I’ll be safe.” I hoped.

  “Forget it. Flint was a serial killer.” Ayden’s look was dark. “With his super nerd ability he could invent crap way ahead of his time. Like Da Vinci. But a big difference is that Flint actually had the means to build the stuff. Those little flaming spiked things are probably the least of our problems.”

  Matthias nodded. “Agreed. Until we know more and have a plan, nobody,” he raised his brows at me, “goes anywhere near the tunnels. We need to go over the Flint files right now to see what we can find that can help us with the search.”

  “The risk is too prodigious.” Jayden arrived carrying a plate of fresh-baked cookies. “We must give the documentations at least another night in the alloy to further mute the tracker’s efficacy.”

  Tristan groaned. “More delays?”

  “Fan-bloody-tastic.” Matthias blew out a frustrated breath. “Fine. We could use a good night’s sleep.” He pointed at the map. “Tristan, print out copies of that so we can all get familiar.”

  “I’ll put the image on everyone’s cell phone.” Tristan sniffed the air. “Are those chocolate oatmeal bars?”

  “Your favorite.” After slapping Blake’s hand away, Jayden presented the treats to Tristan. “A laudatory jubilation to venerate your father’s reclamation. And further proof that I am propagating more emotional frivolity in my endeavors.”

  Because that sounded so frivolous.

  A doorbell blared over and over, like some kid was poking away with relentless intent.

  “Who the bloody hell is that?”

  Tristan brought up a security feed of the Ishida’s front door. The uninvited guest had a baseball cap pulled low to hide their face, but nothing could disguise the huge belly.

  “Aurora!” Aunt M screeched in stereo, echoing from the computer speakers and through the front door and up the stairway. She jabbed the bell a few dozen more times.

  I checked the time and pushed through the crowd of boys. “Crap. I’m late for dinner.”

  Logan gave Jayden a troubled look. “Didn’t you tell her family we were at Blake’s?”

  “Confirmatory.” Jayden said.

  I paused my rush out of the room. “How the heck did she know I was here?”

  “I told you there’s something weird about M,” Tristan said. “Now do you believe me?”

  Matthias wiped a hand down his face. “Weird that a woman who specializes in security was able to track her nitwit niece? No, mate. I think that’s the most normal thing going on around here.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Darkness blurs, lightens to green shadows, then solidifies into trees. Oak and pine. Moonlight filtered by lacy wisps of clouds dips through breaks in the branches.

  Blood-tipped fangs snap at the mists slithering through the night. Enormous pupil-less silver eyes stare though me. They belong to one of the almost-hellhound demons as it stands feral and wolfish on long thin legs. A thick layer of fur mottled with dirty shades of rotting wood and dried mushrooms spew out in a wiry mass, matted against the curved, spiral horns that spike out along its spine and tail.

  It lowers into a crouch, tongue lapping across bared teeth.

  “Oh, excellent,” Rose steps out from behind a tree. “Now you’re on high alert. Where was this ferocity last night?”

  More silver-eyed hounds slink out from the forest to encircle Rose, growls slobbering the air. With a graceful leap, Rose grabs a low tree branch and swings himself up, out of reach of shredding teeth.

  “Where is my stone?” A woman’s voice, flat and emotionless, carries down from above.

  Her human form sits poised on a tree branch, too high in the cloaking shadows of night for me to see her as much more than a blur.

  “Safe.” Rose snaps. “Unlike the Nex. Where were you? A demon got past your hounds and almost killed her!”

  “The rogue was getting too close,” she says, unconcerned with Rose’s angst. “I was compelled to lay a false trail in order to distract him. But time is short.”

  Rose climbs to stand on a thick branch and leans against the trunk. “The Nex found the tunnels.”

  “But the hunters prohibit her from entering.” Her voice grinds artic cold. “Once again men prevent a woman from reaching her true potential.”

  Rose scoffs, “They act to keep her alive.”

  “Fools. Flint’s tunnels are designed to protect her. The girl requires fewer champions and more incentive.” Her voice takes a dangerous edge. “A circumstance I am happy to facilitate.”

  “No!” Rose seethes. “Your bloodlust ruins everything. I will handle it.”

  “You had better, or bloodlust will prevail.” She shrugs, “Regardless, I can search for the treasure on my own.”

  “Now who plays the fool? Neither of us can enter.”

  The woman laughs and stands, the silhouette of a bow pulled taut in her hands. “Are you concerned that I no longer have use for the Nex?”

  Rose gives a bored look to the arrow aimed at his head. “Harm her without my consent, and I will assure delivery of your stone to the Mandatum. Or worse. Let’s not forget who has the power in this relationship.”

  The hounds snarl.

  “Yes,” the woman lowers the weapon. “There are many vipers in this pit.”

  Rose scowls with dark intensity. “I swear I will end them all once I get my beloved back. I just need to open—”

  I woke to darkness. And a weight pressing my chest. My hands lashed out. Fur slid between my fingers. Silver eyes glinted and a low growl rumbled the room. A creature of death.

  Or not.

  “Helsing!” I held my cat high. “Sleep on your own bed!”

  He meowed and squirmed out of my hands, bounding into the shadows.

  “Spaz.”

  On the ride home with Aunt M, I’d had to endure a Dump The Hex Boys lecture. Other than firmly declining an invitation to have Father Bancroft give me an “earful” about staying awa
y from them, I didn’t engage in the conversation. I was too worried about the plan the boys were trying to come up with to infiltrate the tunnels without getting themselves killed.

  After dinner, I’d excused myself and gone to my room, using Jayden’s meditation techniques to induce a Divinicus vision. I’d tried for hours, but after zero luck, I’d fallen into a fitful sleep, frustrated at my failure. Or maybe not. Because I’d like to think that after I’d tumbled into slumber, my efforts had kicked-in this dream-vision thing. Either way, I’d had one of these before, and ignoring it had almost cost Jocelyn her life.

  Not this time. I’d convinced myself that these visions were clues that my kooky Divinicus ability managed to fetter out of my subconscious, or whatever, and I needed to act. We were running out of time.

  The numbers on my digital clock glared in the darkness, confirming the hour at a little before one in the way-too-early morning. But despite my groggy state, I rolled out of bed and changed into dark street clothes and Luna’s hoodie. Then, after a brief sneak into her room for a final essential, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed downstairs. By the time I hit the kitchen, I had a plan in my mind, but when I went to open the door to the garage, it was locked.

  “No.” I thumped my forehead against the doorframe.

  Aunt M had put on a deadbolt so no one could enter until she was finished with her stupid project. It was probably booby trapped with alarms too if I were to try and break in.

  “Told you not to go in there.”

  I yelped at the voice. “Aunt M!”

  “Too many live wires. It’s dangerous.” M shuffled over in her robe and dumped Helsing in my arms. “Your stupid cat was scratching at my door. If you think you’re sneaking out under my watch, think again.”

  “I’m not sneaking.” I was so sneaking. “Everyone knows I leave early for workouts.”

  “Not this early.”

  “Couldn’t sleep.” At least that part was true. “I’m taking your advice and going on my own.”

  “No Hex Boys?” M’s mouth twisted with suspicion.

  “I’m Hexless. But I do need my bike.” I set Helsing down. “Or I’ll have to call one of them for a ride.”

  She wagged a warning finger. “Don’t you dare. Wait here.” She pulled a key from her pocket.

  “What about the wires? Getting zapped would hurt you and the baby.”

  “I’m immune.” She unlocked the door, slipping into the darkened garage. Moments later she squeezed out with my bike. As I wheeled it to the front door, M waddled beside me.

  “Glad you’re doing more without those boys. You need to join a club like you did before. Make new friends.”

  “I’ll look into it,” I lied. A normal student routine hadn’t entered my mind for…I don’t know, forever?

  “How about that trip you were planning? Where was it? Austria? Spain?”

  “No, it was…never mind.” That all seemed a lifetime ago. I missed those carefree days of utter ignorance.

  “Tell me where then,” Aunt M said. “I’ve got offices worldwide, and if I don’t have one where you want to go, I’ll get one.” When I smiled and shook my head, she rushed on. “London, Rome, Athens. Or Paris! Even I like that one. ”

  Sure. Great plan, dumped into the waiting arms of Madame Cacciatori.

  “Thanks, but no.” I opened the front door and poked my head out. The lights were off at Tristan’s. Good. I sidestepped out. “I’m not interested in traveling anymore.”

  Aunt M followed me onto the porch, wrapping her robe tighter against the bitter chill. “But wasn’t that the point of becoming fluent? I’d set you up to intern for a semester. And the summer. Or all year!”

  “You never wanted me to go anyway,” I whispered, gesturing for her to keep her voice down as I pulled on a knit cap and gloves. It was way colder than I expected. “See? I’m taking your advice left and right. Besides, I’ve found a new hobby. Staying healthy.”

  More like staying alive, but close enough. And it was more of a full-time job.

  “Wish you’d make homework your hobby,” Aunt M said. “I could tutor you. Or Bancroft. He’s actually quite knowledgeable. And more patient. I can take you to see him when you get back.”

  “No thanks.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “See you after school. Oh, and, if that mailman comes back, shoot him with your tranq gun. A lot.”

  She grinned. “That’s my girl.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  In the middle of the night, murderer’s mansions-turned-insane-asylums-turned-high schools were creepy. Go figure.

  Aunt M had dropped us off at our Gothic manor of a school only once so she could check their security. She had been…unimpressed, to say the least. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t gone on a very loud rant in the office about all the security flaws. Embarrassing at the time. Super handy when I decided to go all cat burglar.

  Although, the beginnings of my journey were less than pleasant.

  Slogging my bike through fog thick as slime was bad enough, but halfway through my ride a light snow had started falling. The flurry seemed to deaden sound, adding an eerie edge. A damp freeze eked through my clothes and stung my face. I skidded on slushy puddles on the slick asphalt and blinked frozen condensation off my lashes, the headlight on my bike struggling for enough visibility in the filtered moonlight to keep me from crashing.

  Fun times.

  But at least the air smelled fresh, and after nearly hurtling into the fifteen foot tall iron high school gates, because my paranoia of being followed had me looking over my shoulder way too often, I’d stashed my bike in the shrubs lining the stone wall. Then before my fingers made official popsicle status, I pulled out the lock pick set Aunt M had given me for my twelfth birthday and popped open the padlock on the chain holding the gates closed. Since Ayden’s handcuff routine in the storage room under the concert hall, I’d been practicing. Nice to see it pay off.

  Hands tucked underneath my armpits for warmth, I raced down the driveway, snow crunching underfoot, breath puffing out in pale bursts.

  I only went down twice going up the slippery stairs before making short work of the pins and tumblers on the front door lock, then shoved through. I cringed at the loud squeak and thud as it closed, but the place seemed empty. And was oh-so warm. I pulled off my gloves to alternately blow on my hands and rub them together.

  The three-story entrance foyer had an expanse of marble that spread to the grand staircase. To my right and left the room disappeared into shadows, but through the massive round window above the doors, moonlight flickered from behind ghostly tendrils of clouds and cast a bright circle of silver on the stairs. The place smelled of disinfectant, like the floor had been washed after the grunge of high-schoolers had left for the day. Now it was just me and a heavy silence echoing off the walls and high ceiling.

  Something cut through the moonbeams. A dark shadow flying outside landed on the bottom ledge of the window, forming a predatory silhouette. I flattened my body against the door.

  The shadow moved. A gargoyle? There were tons of them located along the upper perimeters of the school, and I always thought of them as protective. But perhaps tonight I was the enemy and one of the grotesque sculptures had come to life to strike me down. An unwelcome intruder to be slayed without mercy.

  The gargoyle made a sound. “Hooo-hooo.”

  I sagged with relief.

  On further study, the “gargoyle” might have been an owl. Two more shadows banked in and landed next to the first, the forms melding together as a trio of eerie hoots floated through the night. Then something with an impressive wingspan glided across the light and let out a shrill screech.

  Every one of my hairs stood on end. Time to go.

  I kept the flashlight flickering over the walls and floors, and when no goblins fell into the spotlight, I headed up the stairs, feeling the weight of the owls’ stares on my back as I climbed through the silver shadow of the moon. Navigating th
rough the endless hallways, I wondered if any of Flint’s victims managed to escape his torture only to get lost in this labyrinth and recaptured again. What a psycho. How many more secret doors were hidden?

  The illumination from my light kept a constant vigil, but any threat could burst without warning from the surrounding darkness. For an empty building, it made a lot of creaks, squeaks, groans, and moans.

  Nerves on hyper-alert, I jumped and twitched so often I looked like a Mexican jumping bean. Which would mean I had some sort of squiggly worm trying to pop out. Not a great analogy. Especially since it reminded me of that sci-fi movie that made me scream every time when the wormy alien pops out of the guy’s stomach and then the wormy alien thing grows into a giant slime alien thing with a hundred-and-one mouths full of a million-and-one pointy fangs and—

  Oookay. I was way more freaked out now. Didn’t think that was possible.

  Heart pounding like it was ready to crack a rib, I picked up the pace. As I passed by the alcove where the walls inside had turned metallic and attempted to cage me in, I tried the door. Just for kicks. The handle resisted, was locked, and I moved away, figuring I didn’t have time for side trips.

  Behind me, something clicked. I whirled. And watched in rising horror. With a long, grumbling creak, the door to the alcove opened. All by itself.

  It was dark inside. And silent. I froze, shaking with anticipation of some imminent attack. Blood pounded in my ears. My flashlight’s trembling beam washed over the room. It was empty. But was it? Something opened the door. Could be hiding behind it.

  I backed up, step by freaked-out step. When I was almost running, I turned and booked it to the library, pulling off my backpack and digging out the library door key I’d taken from Luna’s room. Hands shaking, it took several rattling attempts to insert the shiny skeleton key and turn the lock so I could burst in and slam it shut with a thundering thud that shook the floor beneath my feet.

  I raced around flipping on desk lamps because I’d had enough of the scary dark, then I headed toward the back and almost made it to the Flint section when something darted in my peripheral.