Medium Rare: (Intermix)

by Meg Benjamin

  She shook her head. “That’s not the kind of fairy tales my mom read to me. It looks more like a feasting hall. Maybe Sleeping Beauty.”

  “You’d know better than I would. Here’s hoping they don’t plan to feast on us.”

  She peered at the walls again. The tapestries showed nymphs and satyrs and the occasional goat, but no dragons. “Seems harmless.”

  He sighed. “Don’t start feeling safe. That’s when he’ll come after us.”

  “Can we at least take a minute to breathe?” She pulled back one of the chairs at the nearest table. “Just sit down and rest for a minute. It’ll give us a chance to try to figure out what to do next.”

  He looked like he might protest, but then he settled somewhat heavily into the chair beside her.

  She studied the hall again. She still didn’t see anything moving. On the other hand, she also couldn’t see any doors except the one they’d just walked through. Shit. Going back was absolutely not an option. “Do you think you killed the demon’s vessel back there? Are we done now?”

  He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “I don’t know. Maybe. On the other hand, it didn’t look like I killed it. It just went poof.”

  “Poof as in it exploded?”

  “More like poof as in it made a strategic retreat. Of course, it was never real to begin with. I think the whole idea was to scare me into leaving you so that he could grab you for himself.”

  Rose shivered. “So it wasn’t entirely an illusion.”

  He shook his head. “They’re all real when it comes to hurting us. The calling-ghost part of it was definitely real. But I think he didn’t want to take the chance of me getting in a lucky shot in a fight and doing some real damage. He may be running out of vessels, and once the last vessel is destroyed, he’s history.”

  “My hero,” she murmured and brushed her lips across his cheek.

  Somewhere in the depths of the room, there was a faint creaking. Like long-closed hinges opening again. They pushed themselves to their feet quickly.

  As Rose turned to stare, a square of light appeared on the far wall, dazzling her for a moment. Then she saw a man’s silhouette.

  “Evan?” a voice called, hesitantly.

  Rose grabbed Evan’s shoulders, turning his back to the shape in the door. “Don’t look.”

  “Don’t worry.” He grasped her hands, his gaze fastened on her face.

  She peered over his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the figure in the doorway. It was muffled in what looked like a long black cloak of some kind, with a hood that covered the head completely. The face was lost in darkness. Sort of like Alana, but . . . not.

  “Who is it?” Evan asked. She could feel the tension in his arms.

  “I think it’s a man, based on the voice, but I can’t see his face. He’s got a long black cape on, with a hood over his face.”

  Evan’s eyes widened. “A cape? With a hood?”

  “Evan?” the man called again. “Is that you?”

  Evan sucked in a breath, his face rigid. “Christ.”

  The man stepped farther into the room. His cape swirled around his black shoes.

  “Evan!” He pushed back his hood. “My God, Evan. I didn’t believe it when they told me you were here.”

  He was shorter than she’d thought at first, shorter than Evan, anyway. His dark hair had receded slightly, leaving a broad forehead, and she could see the faint suggestion of a paunch underneath the cape. He smiled at her, looking about as threatening as Santa Claus. The nose, at least, was unmistakable.

  “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’d shake hands, but of course I can’t since I’m dead and all.” His smile turned a little sheepish. “Excuse the outfit—it was my stage getup. I’m Owen Delwin, the Great Dell.”

  ***

  Evan closed his eyes, his jaw taut. “Christ,” he whispered again. But he knew who it was, or anyway who it was supposed to be. The voice, the phrasing, everything. His father. Dead for twenty-plus years, and now back again. Or a close facsimile.

  “Evan?” He heard a rustling behind him, maybe the Great Dell flipping back the cape as he’d always done at the beginning of the act. He’d have a tuxedo on underneath, along with a crisp white pleated shirt with the onyx cuff links. “It’s okay, son. You’re out of it now. You’re safe. He’s gone. Nice work with that spider, by the way. I don’t think I could have done that even when I was your age.”

  Rose’s hands tensed. “A spider,” she whispered. “Oh, Evan.”

  He heard footsteps behind his back. The Great Dell was apparently moving toward them.

  “Stay back!” Rose snapped. “Don’t touch him!”

  “How can you think I’d hurt my son? I raised him. From the time he was eight.” The Great Dell sounded slightly miffed.

  A flicker of doubt crossed her face, but Evan shook his head. “Vessel,” he whispered. “Just a vessel.”

  There was a smile in his father’s voice. “I would never hurt Evan. He’s all I had.”

  “Just stay where you are.” Rose tightened her hold on his hands.

  “You don’t understand,” the Great Dell was back to being aggrieved again. “Nobody ever understood, did they, son? We were everything to each other, Evan and me. He was like my shadow. My other half.”

  “Until you got careless,” Evan muttered in spite of himself. Talking to his father’s doppelgänger was not a good idea.

  The Great Dell sighed. “Yes, until I got careless. Not entirely my fault, though, Evan. I wasn’t a young man anymore. I should have been smart enough to know I couldn’t pull off the bullet catch the way they wanted to set it up. But I really thought I had the safety measures worked out so it couldn’t fail.” He sighed again. “And the money was too good to turn down. It would have taken care of us. I wouldn’t have had to travel so much.”

  Evan grimaced. “The bullet catch. The world’s most dangerous magic trick. But you were going to be different. You were going to do it right. So you added your name to the list of people who died doing the same idiotic gag.”

  “It was a freak accident, Evan. Not my fault. The squib that exploded the glass had too much powder. I got hit by a shard. There was no way I could have foreseen that. At least it was quick.”

  Evan closed his eyes tight, his hands trembling against Rose’s. Too much. Hurts too much. Make it stop.

  “It’s the demon, Evan,” she whispered. “It’s not your dad.”

  “You’re wrong about that.” The Great Dell sounded infinitely reasonable. “He’s gone. Evan won. All of that’s over now. I’ve come to guide you out of here.”

  “Can you afford to take that chance, Evan? Can you afford to believe him?” Rose kept her gaze on his face, staring into his eyes.

  “Oh, I like her, Evan. She’s someone who really cares about you.”

  Evan took a shaky breath, then gritted his teeth again. “Go away, whoever you are. Whatever you are. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  He heard the Great Dell take a couple of steps closer. “I . . . I guess I can understand why you feel that way. I guess you think I left you.”

  “You did leave me,” Evan snarled.

  “I know.” He blew out a breath. “I loved you, son. You were my whole life. Why do you think I took that last job? The money was so we could have a future, you and me, the two of us. And then it went bad.”

  Evan closed his eyes again. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  “Evan, son, I’m sorry.” The voice trembled. “I just wanted to say that. I’m sorry I left you. I never meant for you to be alone.”

  Evan swallowed hard. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. Every muscle in his body was flexed tight. “Stop it.”

  “All these years.” The Great Dell’s voice rose. “All these years I’ve thought about you, tried to reach you. Thos
e mediums, Evan, I tried to get them to tell you how much I missed you.”

  Evan could feel the tears spilling down his cheeks now. His chest felt too tight to breathe. Shut up, shut up, shut up! “Don’t,” he whispered.

  “Please,” the Great Dell pleaded. “Please, Evan. Please look at me.”

  “Get back!” Rose snapped. “Leave him alone.”

  “I never . . .” The Great Dell’s voice came closer. “I never got the chance to say goodbye, Evan. Your face was the last thought I had before it all went dark, but I couldn’t . . . I just want to say it now. Please, son. Let me say it. Look at me, Evan. Let me tell you goodbye this time.”

  Evan’s body trembled with the effort not to look, not to turn toward that gently cajoling voice. That voice that carried death beneath it.

  “Evan,” Rose murmured, “if you turn around now, it will kill us both. He’ll come after me after he’s taken your soul. You know who that really is. Please, Evan.”

  “Please, son.”

  Evan closed his eyes. Oh God, what do I do now?

  ***

  Rose stared up at the Great Dell. Deep in his eyes she saw a glittering malevolent light. Demon. Whatever else the Great Dell might be, a demon lived in his soul.

  Evan’s jaw clenched convulsively, his hands grasping hers so tightly it was painful.

  “Don’t let him do this to you,” she pleaded. “He’s not your father—I can see the demon in his eyes. Don’t look back, Evan, just don’t look back.”

  “Just goodbye, Evan. That’s all. Just what I wanted to say before and couldn’t.” The Great Dell raised his clenched fists in front of his chest. “Please, Evan.”

  She moved her hands to the sides of Evan’s face, forcing him to look down at her. “I don’t want to die, Evan. And I don’t want you to die. I want to live. I want to be with you. The future, not the past. I love you, Evan.”

  She reached up on tiptoe, brushing her lips across his. “Let me love you. Please. Don’t let him take that away from us. Don’t let him separate us now.”

  “Son? Evan?” The Great Dell’s voice broke. He took another staggering step forward.

  Evan closed his eyes again, his hands trembling against hers. “Do it,” he whispered. “You’ve got to do it. I can’t.”

  Rose stared at his face. Do it? Do what?

  “Do it now, Rosie, please.” He opened his eyes again, staring down at her, anguish twisting his face. “Please. I can’t take much more.”

  Rose dropped his hands, fumbling along her waistband. Behind Evan, the Great Dell’s face warped suddenly, like an interrupted transmission, flickering like Skag on a bad night. His eyes narrowed as his mouth twisted with hatred. Then the mask snapped back in place, false tears glittering on his cheeks.

  Her hand closed over the gun. She pulled it from her waistband, resting it on Evan’s shoulder. Holy crap, I’m going to have to shoot this thing!

  “Is she more important than I am?” The man in the tuxedo and cape—whatever he was—bared jagged yellow teeth at her, the demon showing through again. “Does she matter more than your father? The only person who ever cared about you?”

  Evan took a great shuddering breath, placing his hands on Rose’s shoulders. She felt the warmth of his fingers, the rough surface of his palms, still trembling. “Yes,” he said. “She does. She matters more than anything. Do it now, Rose.”

  “No, Evan,” the Great Dell screamed. “No, no, not again. Don’t let her shoot me again. That’s how I died. Please don’t! Help me! Save me!” He extended his hands in front of him, palms up, as if he were trying to ward her off.

  Evan’s body jerked beneath her hands. “Please, Rose. Hurry!”

  She took a deep breath and trying to aim and to remember everything she’d ever heard about firing a gun. Did you aim straight or up or down or what? Should she try for the chest or aim lower? Her hands shook almost as much as Evan’s. Get a grip, Rose, get a grip. You may only have one chance at this.

  The demon raised his head, yellow fangs gleaming, and leaped forward. Rose yelped and squeezed the trigger almost automatically.

  The recoil of the pistol drove her back so that she staggered away from Evan. She watched his shoulders start to turn, as if they were pulled by some kind of magnetic force. “No, don’t!” she screamed, grasping his hand again.

  Behind him, the Great Dell’s eyes widened as a red blossom seemed to bloom on his starched white shirt front. One hand clawed at his chest as he stared down in disbelief. Then he looked back up at her again, his eyes burning with malice.

  “Damn you. Damn you both,” the whispering voice echoed through the hall as the demon shuddered and flickered again. His face became fuller, darker, long hair pulled back, moustache and goatee. Augie Garcia stared back at her. Then it changed again, longer, narrower, pronounced jaw. William Bradford. And then something out of a nightmare—a corona of eyes, bright green, fangs dripping venom, horns. Rose bit her lip to keep from screaming, holding tight to Evan’s hand.

  Then slowly, slowly, the thing began to dissolve, his feet disappearing first, then legs, then chest, leaving his burning eyes until the end, and then they, too, were gone in the darkness.

  Just like Skag used to do—without the eyes, of course. The eyes sort of reminded her of Helen. Rose closed her own eyes tight. “He’s gone.”

  “He’s not the only thing that’s gone.”

  She opened her eyes, staring around the room. The room that was no longer there.

  They stood on the front porch, between the two graceful columns. She could see lights on the hillside below them, houses, streets. The reflected glow of San Antonio glimmered on the horizon. She stepped back, staring over her shoulder, then turning slowly. Evan’s car still sat in the driveway.

  “What the hell?”

  Evan shook his head. “The whole place was an illusion. That was one powerful demon.”

  “Was any of it real?”

  “Hard to say.” He flexed his fingers. “If either of us had turned around when the ghost called our names, the death would have been very real for both of us. Like Brenda. And Alana.”

  She shuddered. “It was real enough for Bradford. But the demon’s gone now, right?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go back to town and see what we can find out.”

  He started back toward his car, pulling her along behind him. A dull buzzing noise was coming from inside.

  Evan paused, frowning. “What’s that?”

  Rose blew out a breath. “It’s okay. It’s my phone. We probably need to answer it.”

  She pulled the phone from her purse as soon as Evan unlocked the car doors. “Dad?”

  “She’s awake.” Her father was almost shouting. “She’s okay, Rosie. Come back here quick.”

  Rosie closed her eyes for a moment, then tossed her phone back in her purse. “Mission accomplished. And I need to get to the hospital.”

  “Okay, let’s do it.”

  As he started to open his door, she leaned forward to brush her lips across his cheek. “Thank you, Evan. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  He paused, turning to look at her. Then he pulled her into his arms, his lips soft against hers, the hard ridges of his body fitting against her softness. “Likewise, ma’am,” he whispered. “Absolutely, likewise.”

  Chapter 29

  Evan sat in his car, staring at Rose’s front porch. He knew she was inside. He could see light through the front curtains.

  He’d dropped her at the hospital yesterday without going in himself. He figured the last thing the Ramos family needed was a stranger in the middle of their celebrations. Since then he’d texted her a couple of times and gotten brief, happy replies. Apparently, her mother was fine.

  He blew out a breath. He knew Rose was all right. Of course, she was all right. They’d both come thro
ugh. He shuddered slightly, remembering. She was perfectly all right, just like he was.

  Except, of course, for the nightmares. The spider. His father. Sometimes both of them together. Logically, they belonged together since they were both the demon. But dreams didn’t work on logic. His sleep hadn’t been restful.

  And he’d missed Rose.

  He looked at the front door again.

  She’d said she loved him.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tight. They’d both been under duress. She was trying to save his miserable life. There was every chance she’d regret having said it now that the threat was gone.

  It sounded real at the time.

  He blew out a breath. Nothing made sense the way it used to. He hated it when his worldview underwent a three-sixty. It made life more complicated.

  He needed to get back to work. He hadn’t written anything during the time he’d been chasing demons with Rose. He needed a new project. Maybe he could still figure out some way to write about Bradford.

  Go up to the door and knock. He closed his eyes. He really should do that. Really.

  Someone rapped on his window. “Mr. Delwin?”

  Evan’s eyes flew open, and he jerked in surprise. A woman stood next to the car, a very familiar– looking woman. He rolled down his window. “Mrs. Ramos?”

  “Oh, call me Deirdre. I understand you saved my life. That puts us on a first-name basis.”

  Evan reached over and opened the passenger door, then watched her slide into the front seat beside him.

  “Are you on a stakeout?” Her lips quirked up slightly at the ends. She was, Evan realized, as much of a knockout as Rose.

  He blew out a sigh. “No ma’am, I just . . . well, I wondered . . . Are you okay?”

  Mrs. Ramos—Deirdre—shrugged. “I’m fine. They wanted to keep me at the hospital and run all kinds of tests, but I insisted on leaving. My husband’s not pleased.”

  Evan could see how he wouldn’t be. On the other hand, he could understand why she wanted to go. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. So I guess I’ll just be on my way.” He reached for the ignition key.