“You don’t owe me anything?” I spluttered. “You tried to kill me!”
“You’re still riding that old bike?” Kermit waved as if clearing the air. “That’s old news. Water under the bridge. A bone picked clean and sucked dry of marrow.”
“Something like that, Kermy, something that threatens my very existence, tends to stick around.”
“Oh, like being possessed by the Demon King and doing who knows what while he’s frolicking around in his borrowed ghoul body might stick around, huh? Like that, do you think?”
I held up my hands. “Okay, you got me. You’ve been used and abused by these arseholes. I get it. But all I’m asking is a couple of minutes to talk to this thing, then it’s over. I banish it, you go free and it won’t be walking off with you, I promise.”
Kermit narrowed his big eyes. “What will you give me for it? And just so you know, I don’t want a date, or any of that other shit you mentioned.”
“What do you want then?” If he said flat screen TV the deal was off.
He thought about it for, oh, maybe two seconds.
“I want to see a movie.”
“Sure. Merce has a big collection, if you’re into Norse gods.”
“No. In a cinema. With popcorn and those ice creams with the chocolate on top.”
“Deal.” Had absolutely no freaking idea how I would manage it, but the ugly bastard was actually twanging on something that might be attached to my pity.
With a big sigh, he heaved himself up and stalked past me. “Let’s get this done, then.”
I made him put on some pants. Contrary to popular belief, he actually had some. At the bike, I offered him Mercy’s helmet. Kermit was pretty savvy with his techno talk these days, but he didn’t understand that most male beings shouldn’t be so happy to get the hot pink helmet. Why all the protective gear for something that, if he fell off the bike at top speed, would probably survive? Because I didn’t want to be seen riding around with what could be mistaken for a half decayed corpse. Visually, he could be covered up fairly well, but the smell... All I can say is, thankfully he was behind me. Going so fast his stench didn’t have time to reach my nose was the only way I made it to Rocklea without passing out. Though we did nearly crash several times. Despite my warning about riding on the bike, he got too excited about pointing out things that caught his fancy along the way and nearly capsized us as he leaned toward them.
By the time we’d reached the new estate, Kermit had had his fill of the world beyond his cemetery and he disappeared into the warren of skeletal houses with a vague promise to come back when I needed him. Inside the house where I’d hidden the bike the night before, I went about my preparations.
My circle was nowhere near as perfect as Gerry’s but it was pretty darn close, even if I do say so myself. I’d just finished inscribing the symbols between the points of the hexagram when Roberts’ big four wheel drive rumbled into the driveway. As I was leaving the garage to help him unpack, a familiar sensation took my breath away.
Roberts hopped down from the 4WD and from the passenger side, Mercy appeared, glaring at me.
“I’m hungry.”
I faced Roberts, who stood there looking far too un-guilty. “Why is she here? You were supposed to take her home once she’d done her part.”
“Have you tried telling her no lately?” He stepped back. “Discuss it with her. I’m going to unload my car before any of those things wakes up.”
“He wouldn’t give me any blood,” Mercy complained as she stamped up to me. Tonight’s wardrobe choice was sensible jeans, boots and a t-shirt that read ‘What if the HOKEY POKEY really is what it’s all about?’. “I had to run around catching all those stupid imps and now I’m hungry and he said I had to stay home but he wouldn’t give me anything to eat and I’m hungry, Matt.”
I could feel it zinging down the private line. She was hungry and probably did require a feed. Things had been too hectic for me to check her haemoglobin this morning so I had no idea how low she might be.
Roberts trooped past, carrying two cat carriers full of snoring imps.
“Look, Merce,” I began, fishing in my pocket for my keys.
Mercy watched Roberts put the carriers down and go back for more. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing that interests you.” I held up the keys to the Moto Guzzi. “If I give you the key to the blood fridge, will you promise to go home, have one bag and…”
She wandered into the garage, leaving me talking to myself.
“I may as well not even be here,” I muttered. “Come on, Mercy. You have to go home and eat. Get back here.”
“What’s this?” she asked, pointing to the circle.
“Matt’s latest madness,” Roberts said.
“Will it hurt him?” she asked Roberts.
“We can only hope.”
“Shut up. You’re not helping,” I said to him as he went back past. “Mercy, enough. Please, if you’re so hungry, just go home. Two bags.”
That caught her attention. “Two whole bags?”
“Two whole bags.”
She looked between the keys dangling from my hand and the circle.
“Why can’t she stay?” Roberts asked in a low voice as he came back with a small, portable stereo. “Wouldn’t it be best to keep her around in case things go wrong? Hey, who am I kidding. I mean, when things go wrong.”
“If she sticks around, things will go wrong quicker than usual.”
For the first time he seemed to really look at me. “What’s with the face thing?”
“That was things going wrong last night.”
“Oh.” Then after a moment’s thought. “Ooh.” He marched into the garage. “Hey, kiddo. Better get on your bike, hey? Wouldn’t want to miss the main course of yummy blood.”
That seemed to decide Mercy’s mind. She skipped out of the garage and swiped the keys from my hand in a blur of moonlight. As she got on the bike and picked up her helmet, her little nose wrinkled.
“Ew! Smells like ghoul.”
“Wear mine, then.”
“And smell like you?” She hooked the helmet on the back and started the bike with a rev to wake the dead.
“Put a helmet on,” I yelled as she backed out of the driveway. “And don’t just drop the bike when you get home. Put the kickstand down this time!”
Helmetless, she waved, popped a wheelie and was gone. Roberts and I watched her go.
“What a charming drive it was out here with her,” Roberts said dryly. “Tell me, are you really trying to starve the poor thing?”
I glared at him. “Did she look underfed to you?”
“Hmm, let me see. Rosy cheeks, red lips, a lovely shine to her hair. Not particularly, but the complaining says otherwise.”
“Learn to ignore it. Makes your life much calmer.” I kept watch on the road, to make sure she didn’t come back. Behind us, Bach played on the stereo and soft mewling from the cages said it was doing its duty. “How many did you get?”
“About two dozen. Some are pretty small though.” Roberts showed me a couple of tears in his black jacket. “Nasty little blighters, ain’t they?”
“They’re not pleasant, that’s for sure.”
“What are they for? Matter of fact, what is any of this for? And why did her helmet smell like ghoul?” He sniffed. “Why do you smell like ghoul?”
Grimacing, I said, “Don’t ask.”
“Oh, please do.”
Both of us spun around.
Erin stood in the garage, hands on hips, looking at the circle.
Suffice to say she looked much as she had last night. Tired, a bit sore, but tonight had the added bonus of angry. My stomach ended up somewhere around my knees.
“So, Lila came through with the goods, did she?”
The question was so rhetorical I thought it best to not even acknowledge it. “How did you get here?”
She glanced at me, at Roberts, then back at me. “It’s called investigating.”
I
hit Roberts on the arm. “She followed you.”
“Don’t blame me for this,” he snapped. “You never said to look out for tails.”
“I didn’t think it needed…” And right there, my brain caught up to my mouth, slightly out of breath, but with an actual clue.
It was only when the hard butt of my gun settled into my hand that I realised I’d reached for it. Still, my fingers closed around it and pulled it from the back of my pants before I could think twice.
My arm snapped up at the same moment Erin’s did.
Gulp.
A Glock barrel looked like a fucking cannon when it’s that close to your face.
Chapter 31
“What the fuck?” Roberts threw himself out of the line of fire.
“What are you doing, Hawkins?” Erin demanded, her gun not wavering.
“Things aren’t always what they seem. I never told you Lila’s name.”
“No. She did, when she came to see me in the hospital today.” She titled her head the bare minimum needed to indicate the circle. “She came to see if you were trustworthy enough to summon a demon.”
I swallowed my confusion. “She came to see you? But I never told her your name either. And why aren’t you still in hospital?”
“I got better.”
“You got better? So, no broken ribs? No broken arm? What about your face? Still cut up, I see.”
She ground her teeth so hard I heard it clearly. “If you’d just put your gun down I could tell you what’s happened.”
I smiled grimly. “Nice try. Show me.”
This time her gun did waver, but she got it steady in quick order. “What?”
“Show me your ribs.”
Erin turned side on, presenting a smaller target. “I’m not showing you anything.”
Roberts came a little closer. “Matt, what’s the deal?”
“Last night I was ambushed by a demon wearing Erin’s body.”
“What?” Stereo sound from Erin and Roberts.
“I’m not a demon,” Erin stated as Roberts asked, “A demon?”
“Look.” Erin moved to face me front on again and very slowly, she lowered her gun. “If I was the demon, would I do this?”
“Probably. Bullets have little effect on her.”
“Then put your gun away,” she said as she handed her Glock to Roberts. He took it and then hightailed it back to my side. Erin sighed.
“I said little effect, not no effect.”
“Fine.” Ignoring my weapon, Erin moved so she could lean against a wall. “I’m too tired to bother with this argument. What can I do to prove to you who I am?”
“Tell me about the ribs.”
She laughed wearily. “She healed my ribs, probably out of a sense of guilt for breaking them in the first place.”
“The demon?”
“Yes, the demon.”
“I’m not exactly sure on why she would do that, but I’m open the fact she might.” I didn’t lower the Cougar. “Still not convinced though. I called her on the rib thing last night so perhaps this tale is a handy way of bypassing that matter this time.”
“Whatever. Anything else I can do?”
“Kiss me.”
Erin gaped at me. Roberts too, but I didn’t care about his reaction.
“Kiss you?” Erin shook her head. “Why?”
“Humans have an aura demons can’t replicate.” I took a step toward her. “It would prove things one way or the other.”
“And put you right in my arms if I am the demon,” Erin offered. “Easy squishing position.”
“There is that,” I conceded and took another step toward Erin. “Come on, babe. Lay one on me.” I leaned forward. “You might not get another free offer.”
Erin knocked my gun hand aside, grabbed my face and kissed me.
It wasn’t a sweet, sensual kiss like last night. It wasn’t a greedy tongues and all thing either. She just pushed her lips to mine brutally hard, so I could feel the shape of her teeth.
And then it all changed. Though I’m willing to bet it was all one sided. In an instant the hard kiss became desperate, scared and reckless. The emotions rocked into me on a wave of Erin’s unique flavour. The desperation was in the sweetness of the honeydew melon, the fear in the sharp tartness of the Moscato and the recklessness was bathed in all the rich, deep dark bitterness of chocolate and coffee.
The sensation swamped me, damn near knocked my feet out from under me. When Erin let me go I had to grab onto her to keep upright, though she nearly crashed under the added strain.
“Well?” she asked when we were stable.
I cleared my throat, trying to wash down the lingering taste of Erin. “You’re you.”
“Told you.”
Then she sagged against the wall. I caught her before she could fall and helped her to the floor.
“I had to make sure,” I said. “Tonight’s the deadline for the demon. She has to take me out.”
Erin nodded, though she made a big effort to look anywhere but at me. “I understand. You’re prepared for her?”
“As best I can be. I should start pretty soon, so I’m not ambushed again. Roberts, can you go call Kermit?”
Roberts grunted and left the room.
“Kermit?” Erin asked.
“A ghoul. Nasty piece of work but he’s agreed to help me out. So, it’s true the demon came to you and healed your ribs?”
“This morning. Matt, how well do you know Lila Reyes?”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”
Erin dug in a pocket on her jacket. She pulled out a printed photo. “Nick Carson sent you this photo of himself and his girlfriend, whom I’m presuming is your poltergeist.”
Wondering where Erin was going with this, I took the picture, looked at it and fell on my arse.
“How well do you know Lila Reyes?” Erin repeated. “Or should we call her Amaya?”
My brain blanked out. All I could do was stare at the photo. The guy I guessed was Nick Carson. The woman, no doubt about it, was Lila. The same white skin, the same black hair, the faintly tilted eyes.
“She visited me this morning.” Erin’s words entered my ears and I recognised them but it was hard to make sense of them. “She said she wanted to know if I trusted you because she didn’t know if she should help you summon a demon. Why would she even consider helping you, Matt? You’d only be using what she told you to capture her.”
I shook my head. “Lila is Amaya, or looks extremely like her. Why jump to the conclusion that she’s the demon?”
“She healed my ribs and arm. And Jacob knows nothing about her. He didn’t give her your number.”
I wanted to deny Erin’s words. I really did but my mind was gearing back up and running through every moment of every meeting with Lila. She had called out of the blue, I’d been the one to mention Jacob and she’d agreed. She’d met with me in a public place and then tried to take me somewhere private—to screw me or kill me? Or both? All the expertly seductive things she’d performed for my pleasure. A succubus indeed.
“Oh God,” I whispered. “She even told me. Or tried to tell me.”
“What?”
“Last night. She came here, looking like you and… and when I worked out who she was she pretty much told me she was linked to my other job. Of course, she couldn’t say it plainly but she dropped a giant hint and I forgot to pick it up. I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“Not an idiot,” Erin said soothingly. “Just… a bit slow.”
I managed a bitter chuckle.
“And yet she’s helped you work out how to summon her.” Erin leaned against the wall, eyes narrowed in thought. “Why is that?”
“That part, I think I know.” I tucked my hands into my arm pits, worried they’d tremble and reveal my complete and utter shock. “She doesn’t like what she’s being made to do. Hurting you, hunting me, killing people. I think she’s different to your average demon.”
“Know a lot of d
emons, do you?”
“One or two. Either way, she’s done her best, as both herself and as Lila to give me what I need to break the other summoner’s control over her. She even gave me her name.”
“Which is? Lila or Amaya?”
“Amaya. I think she’s not only bound to this summoner here, but also to Nick.”
“But if Nick had summoned her, wouldn’t he know she was a demon? Wouldn’t he have told you that?”
“And he wouldn’t have worried about her being eaten by sharks if he knew she was a demon. He doesn’t know. Perhaps he summoned her accidentally.”
Erin snorted. “Is that possible?” She waved at my circle. “Hard to mistakenly draw that.”
“I don’t know, but it would explain why Amaya ‘haunted’ him after being summoned away. If she was bound to be with him, she would have had to return to him once her job here was done.”
“And when you poked your nose into Gerry’s death, the summoner found out and called her back to finish you off before you could solve the mystery.”
“Exactly, Watson.”
“I’m no man’s Watson,” Erin mumbled.
“That’s right. You’re Batgirl.”
Tactfully, Erin ignored that. “So, you’re going to summon her tonight, before she can come, intent on killing you.”
“Not exactly. When I concocted this half-arsed plan, I didn’t know her name. Didn’t have my trusty Girl Friday to put the puzzle pieces together for me.” I looked at the picture again, trying to reconcile this deliriously happy woman with the Amaya who was bitter about her relationship with Nick. It didn’t quite mesh. “I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about that. Ninety-nine percent of men are. If you’re not summoning her, then who?”
“Hey!”
A gentle waft of ghoul proceeded Kermit’s entrance. Erin grimaced but I was used to the stench.
“Are we getting this show on the road or what? Who’s the saucy wench?”
Forgetting the smell, Erin gapped at Kermit. She pointed at him and turned to stare at me. “That… that’s the thing that shot at me in May at your place.”
“No,” I muttered, “that was a different ghoul. He’s dead.”
“Darn tasty too,” Kermit added not so helpfully. “Had him for dinner couple months back, actually. Nicely tender he was.”
Night Call (Book 2): Demon Dei Page 28