Gran’s eyes opened as Lyn closed the door behind her, and she struggled to sit up. “Mandolin. I didn’t think you’d come by today.
“Let me help,” said Lyn.
“I can manage.”
Lyn rolled her eyes and held Gran’s elbow steady while she pulled her weight towards the headboard. Re-arranging the pillows, she helped ease her great-grandmother against the soft down feathers.
Gran hadn’t changed out of her pajamas yet, and the thin silk blouse she wore sported a cowl neckline with short sleeves. Lyn’s gaze gravitated to the veins along her great-grandmother’s chest and upper arms. They were black.
No.
She snatched the lower portion of Gran’s blouse and yanked it over the old woman’s head, exposing her chest.
“Evelyn Conway!” Lolly smacked her great-granddaughter’s hands away and lowered her shirt, but she was too late. Lyn saw the demon curled beneath her sternum. It looked like a fat salamander with red-tipped spikes. Hair-like appendages extended from spikes and pierced her arteries. They went deep, tunneling through her heart and tangling with her ventricles in a mess of black bands.
Lyn’s throat thickened and tears welled in her vision. “Oh, Gran …”
Lolly lowered her gaze. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
She pulled her lips between her teeth and shook her head. Lyn blinked against the tears, but it didn’t help. They rolled down her cheeks, as unbridled and unwelcome as the demon in her gran’s chest. “When? How?”
“A few days ago. As for how, well, I assume the sonofabitch latched on while I was sleeping.”
“A few days ago? But I was here yesterday. That’s why you wore a turtleneck sweater?”
Lolly chuckled. “Please. I’m not psychic. I didn’t know you were coming by. I really did feel a tickle in my throat and the air conditioning in this place is always too low.”
Lyn arched her brow, but she decided not to challenge her great-grandmother. Instead, she dried her tears and lowered onto the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry. Angie and I will find the book and perform an exorcism. You’ll be as good as new.”
Gran snorted. “It won’t work.”
“Of course it will,” said Lyn. “We’re older this time. We’ll get it right.”
“Sweetie,” Gran squeezed her hands, “I’m ninety-two years old. I don’t have the strength to survive an exorcism.”
“You do,” Lyn insisted. “You will.”
“Evelyn—”
“We’re doing an exorcism and that’s that.”
Gran scowled. “Sweetheart, listen to me. I’m an old lady. I’ve lived my life. Even if it wasn’t a demon, it would’ve been something.”
“No.” Lyn shook her head. She felt as though she were dreaming, watching the events happen to someone else. There was a sense of déjà vu as Lyn recalled watching her mother laying on her deathbed. A terrible Sephet demon wrapped Felicity Conway’s spinal cord, sucking her body dry from the inside out while defecating cancer into her marrow. Lyn had been too young and inexperienced to save her mother, but she’d be damned if she didn’t save Gran. “No, you’re not allowed to give up. You’ll make it through this, Gran. You have to. You’re all I have left.”
Lolly sighed. She met Lyn’s gaze with soulful green eyes and smiled gently. “Why don’t you tell me what brought you out here today?”
Lyn scoffed. She had meant to tell Gran about the Duke and possibly even about Sam, but all that seemed trivial now. “I came because I knew you were in trouble. When you asked me to write to you in code, I thought maybe …” Lyn paused, not sure how to continue. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it; Gran—the renowned greatest Daughter of Eve—was possessed. Gran was dying.
Lyn winced. She couldn’t help feeling a little cheated. Why didn’t Gran tell her about this as soon as it happened?
Something tickled her check. She swiped at it and her hand came back wet with fresh tears.
“Mandolin, look at me.”
She didn’t want to. She was upset and embarrassed. But she didn’t have the heart to disobey her great-grandmother right now. She could only imagine the pain Lolly must be going through. Lyn rubbed her eyes and then blinked in Gran’s direction.
Gran touched her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere right now, love. I’ll stay in this world as long as I can. Now come on. Tell me what you really came to see me about.”
Lyn looked at her lap and drew a shaky breath. To be honest, she didn’t even know where to start. Gran knew about the Emerson case, but … it just didn’t seem fair to burden her with everything else. If Gran, a Daughter of Eve—the only Daughter of Eve that mattered in Lyn’s opinion—knew her great-granddaughter was possibly being hunted by a Duke of Hell—and heck, Lyn still had a hard time admitting it to herself …
“Is it about a boy?” asked Gran.
“What?” Lyn scowled at her great-grandmother. “No.”
“Are you sure? Because I never did give you the talk.”
The left side of her lips tugged upward. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re a few years too late.”
“Hmm. Too bad it didn’t take.”
Lyn arched her eyebrows.
“Okay,” said Gran. “If it’s not about a boy, then it’s about a demon. And I don’t mean the sonofabitch in my chest.”
“It’s not.” Lyn lowered her gaze and swallowed.
“Sweetie, don’t ever play poker. You’re a terrible liar.”
Lyn rolled her eyes, but she smiled too. She couldn’t help it. “Scoot over.” She climbed across the tiny twin mattress and lay beside her great-grandmother, shoulder to shoulder. The quilt smelled of baby powder and lavender. Lyn drew courage from the homey scent. “Okay, this is strictly a hypothetical question.”
“The best kind of question,” said Gran.
Lyn stared at the white hospital ceiling and drew a breath. “If I ever run into a Greater demon … what should I do?” Lyn expected her great-grandmother to laugh and say, Kill it. Duh.
But Gran was silent.
“Gran? It’s just hypothetical. I mean, I only asked because—”
“Honey, if you ever—and I mean ever—see a Greater demon, I want you to get into your car and leave Paradise.”
“What?”
“I mean it. Don’t pack. Don’t come here. Don’t even think. Just get in your car and drive away. You can call Angela once you’re safe.”
Lyn wrinkled her brow and looked at Gran. “You’ve thought about this before?”
“Don’t sass me, Evelyn Conway, just promise you’ll do it. Promise me!”
“Okay, I promise.” Lyn pushed away from the bed and stood. “Jesus, Gran, got anything else you want to tell me?”
“Do you have any more hypothetical questions?”
Lyn rolled her eyes. “I got to go. I have an exorcism ritual to find.”
She opened the door and came face to face with Sam. Lyn nearly jumped out of her skin—again—but managed to collect herself before she could scream. Lyn shut the door behind her.
Sam leaned against the opposite wall with his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched. His brow furrowed as he peered down the length of the hallway, his mouth twisted into a tight scowl. Whatever his beef was, Lyn decided it could wait. She grabbed the sleeve of his T-shirt and pulled him along the corridor, away from Lolly’s room.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “How did you get past Gracie?”
“Who?”
“The woman at the front desk.”
“There’s a front desk?”
Lyn stopped in her tracks, put her hands on her hips, and pivoted to face him. “Look, I am not in the mood right now. Why aren’t you waiting in the car like I told you to?”
Sam’s gaze slid past her, to the hallway they’d just left. “I’m sorry about your great-grandmother.”
“You knew about that?”
“No.” Sam looked at her. “I overheard.”
“W
ait.” Lyn pointed at him. “You can cure her. You can scare the demon right out.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“The Gressil demon at the cemetery,” said Lyn. “It saw you and ran away. You can scare away the demon in Gran’s chest too.”
“The Gressil didn’t have a host. Whatever is inside your great-grandmother won’t come out again until it’s done with her.”
“So, what, you won’t even try? Nice theme you have.”
Sam turned to the side and grunted. “Look, technically I can rip it out of her, but she’d bleed to death before an ambulance arrived and I’m assuming that’s not the effect you’re going for.”
“Can’t you coax it out gently with a cupcake or something?”
Sam side-eyed her.
“Whatever.” Lyn went to the lobby and then exited the hospital. She didn’t need his help. She’d find Gran’s book and perform an exorcism with Angie. Simple as that. She’d also figure out what to do about the Duke.
Somehow.
Sam sat silently through the drive, one hand resting over his chest, his breath slow and deliberate. Lyn’s reaction to her great-grandmother’s condition had been a physical blow to his chest; the shock swift and sharp. The stinging pain had been enough to throw him against the backrest of the car, gasping. He’d gone to her in the hospital without thinking, but at least he had the sense—as her turmoil settled over his nerves—to wait in the hall. He could have appeared in the room with her and the elderly Daughter. In fact, he almost had. The utter chaos of her whole world changing at the drop of a hat ignited a part of him that had spent two centuries burning in Hellfire. Human grief was too potent a drug for any demon to resist. Or so he tried to tell himself as he licked his lips and tasted the ghost of her guilt. Sam didn’t know why, but Lyn blamed herself for the possession. It made her such an easy target …
Sam squashed that last thought into submission while Lyn parked the vehicle parallel to the double doors of a large gray building. He leaned forward to squint through the windshield, grateful for the distraction, but couldn’t make out the letters on the overhead sign. Nor did he recognize the building or the surrounding area.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“The police station.” Lyn nodded as a human in dark clothing exited the building and strolled past them.
“Lyn,” he growled.
“You said you could quantum leap, right? I’m guessing that’s how you got past security in the psych ward. So here’s the plan; you’re going to leap into the station and steal the Paradise suicides file.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because,” said Lyn. “You’re right about one thing. We don’t know who the Duke is. There’s bound to be more clues in the file. You said we could handle this if we knew what we were dealing with.”
“I never said that.”
“Sure you did,” said Lyn.
Sam scowled. “No, I really didn’t.”
“Fine, you implied it. Now are you going to go in there or are you going to continue to be completely useless?”
Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. “Let me see if I understand. You want me to appear out of thin air in the middle of an unfamiliar building surrounded by armed police officers, and …,” he shrugged for emphasis, “… ask nicely where the file is? Or am I supposed to blindly search the building while the cops wait patiently? Oh wait, I know; I’m supposed to consume all their souls in cold blood and then search the building, right?”
The pink dash of her mouth curved downward as Lyn made a face. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t tell what kind of face exactly; her agitation made itself known in the pool of heat pressing against his sternum. Her emotions infringed on his like a pestilence his blood couldn’t dispel. It was a constant ache in his chest. She leaned toward him and Sam tensed.
“You’re an immortal, dumbass. They can shoot you with every bullet they have, and you’d be fine. But that’s not the point. You don’t have to find the file right away. Just walk in there, get arrested for something minor, and wait in jail until the cops go home for the night. Then you can quantum leap your way out of the cell, find the file, and leap back to the apartment. Easy peasy.”
Sam narrowed his gaze. She wasn’t wrong; he could do it. But the plan was stupid. If he got arrested then escaped, he’d be a fugitive and their problems would multiply. She’d know that if she stopped to think more than two minutes ahead.
“It doesn’t matter who the Duke is,” said Sam. “It’s a Duke. We don’t stand a chance. I told you we should lay low.”
“Yeah, see, that’s the problem.” Lyn removed her seat belt. “I don’t listen to demons.”
She got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and then disappeared into the building.
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and huffed against the backrest. I am not going in there. He wasn’t some lap dog she could order around. If she wants to get arrested, that’s her problem.
Except prisons were like revolving doors for demons and the demon-possessed. If Lyn ended up locked in a cell with one, she would be helpless, and it would be the end of him.
Though Sam wouldn’t say so to Lyn, he didn’t think the possession of her great-grandmother was a coincidence. Someone was using Lyn to bait him, and they were losing patience. The slow painful death of Lyn’s last living relative was one Hell of a warning. Whoever sent the Duke didn’t just know Lyn’s physical appearance; they knew exactly who she was.
It was only a matter of time before the Princes or Lucifer or whoever was after him lost their patience and ordered the Duke to kill Lyn to make an example of Sam. He had to do something.
Fortunately, the etchings of a plan brewed in his mind. One he had gotten from Lyn’s great-grandmother.
9
Have a Hart
L yn approached the front counter of the Paradise Police Department and marveled at how much it looked just like the DMV. The only real difference was the employees’ matching uniforms and visible firearms. That last detail made Lyn nervous.
“Can I help you?” said a brunette woman sitting behind the counter. Lyn thought she looked young for a cop and slightly overweight. Weren’t they supposed to be athletic so they could catch the bad guys? Seriously, where were her hard-earned tax dollars going?
Wait. I don’t pay taxes.
“Well?” The woman raised her eyebrows.
Lyn read the nametag on her uniform and smiled. “Hello, Officer Hart. I’m Evelyn Conway, private investigator. I was wondering if I could see the Paradise suicides file. I’m looking into a few details for the parents of one of the victims, Violet Emerson.”
That sounded professional, right?
“Do you have clearance?”
“Sure do,” said Lyn.
What the heck is clearance?
Hart scanned her and narrowed her gaze. She seemed to be waiting for something. After an awkward moment, Lyn brightened her smile. Hart rolled her eyes. “I need to see your clearance card and I.D.”
“Oh, right. Duh. You ever have one of those days when it’s like … not enough caffeine in the world. Know what I mean? Ha-ha.” Lyn cleared her throat and reached into her back pocket. She opened her wallet and quickly flashed her P.I. certification card. “See? Got it right here.”
Angie had laughed when Lyn downloaded and printed the certificate a year ago, saying it wasn’t legit just because she had it laminated—but who was laughing now?
Hart snatched the card from Lyn’s hand and took a closer look. The officer chuckled. “Paranormal investigator?”
Oh sure—the one time somebody pays attention to the letters that come after the P.
Lyn leaned her elbows on the counter a leveled a stern gaze at the police officer, woman to woman. “Look, I know there’s a symbol carved into each of the victims’ bodies. It could be a clue.”
Hart laughed louder, drawing the attention of her co-workers. “You don’t say?”
Lyn’s che
eks burned. Even she knew she sounded stupid. She was about to give up when the main entrance opened and Sam took a careful step into the lobby. He clung to the door handle and stared vacantly across room, looking for all the world like the helpless blind man he pretended to be.
“Can I help you, sir?” Officer Party-Pooper scanned the demon. Her brow lifted and her mouth puckered in a silent whistle. Lyn resisted the urge to smack her palm against her forehead. She could practically see the wonton thoughts running through Hart’s mind. Damn demon. But maybe she could use him to her advantage?
“That’s my cousin, Sam.” Lyn went to his side and hooked her arm around his. “I thought I told you to wait in the car, Cousin Sam, who is totally related to me through my mother’s side twice removed. Isn’t that right, Cousin Sam?”
Sam looked at her and his steely gaze narrowed.
She turned her back to the officer and whispered. “Are you going to help me out or not?”
Sam grunted—was that a yes or a no— then aimed a sweet panty-melting smile in Hart’s direction. “Er, ma’am? Please excuse my cousin. She’s been through a recent trauma.”
Lyn’s jaw fell open. How dare he bring up Gran!
“You see,” Sam continued without hesitation, “we think she had a run-in with the perpetrator causing the Paradise suicides. She was accosted by a man in an alley on the south side of Main Street. He mentioned something about a cult. Thank goodness my cousin is a black belt martial artist. She was able to defend herself, but we thought we should tell someone.” Sam’s gaze—despite its clouded vacant appearance—locked with Hart’s, and he flashed another flirtatious smile. “Don’t you agree?”
Officer McClearance-Card turned a rosy shade of pink as her mouth curved into a grin. She must’ve had experience with beautiful men, though, because she didn’t completely melt into a puddle.
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