by Bonnie Vanak
Dale politely stood as the woman did. Then he and Blake started talking. The waitress brought over two plates and placed them on Keira’s table. She glanced over at Dale, but he seemed oblivious.
“You here alone? Want to join us?” Blake asked.
Dale shook his head. “No. I’m here with...a friend.”
Keira had excellent hearing, even when she wasn’t in wolf form.
He didn’t even glance her way. Keira drank more water, feeling invisible.
“Friend, right. Is that what you call them these days?” Blake laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
Dale shook his head and sipped his beer. “She works for me. Nothing more. We were buying plants for landscaping.”
“Speaking of nurseries, when are you going to start growing one of these?” He jerked a thumb at the cooing toddler.
Dale’s expression slipped. “One day.”
The baby began to cry. Blake started to get up and Dale shook his head. “I’ll get her. Sit and finish your lunch before it gets cold.”
His own lunch sat, untouched, across from Keira.
She watched as Dale picked up the little girl, then sat down with her, rubbing her back. He looked so peaceful and content, a lump rose in her throat.
What would it be like, to have a family? A real home and a husband and children?
Keira’s throat closed up. She was Dale’s employee. Nothing more. Her job was to restore his health and get him into fighting form. She inhaled the scent of her meal. Pasta wasn’t her favorite, but this had a zesty, homemade smell with a bite of oregano. Food was a real pleasure.
Under the demons’ enslavement, when they had a new victim for her to torture, she’d been given bread and water and only enough thin, stringy meat to keep her alive. The starvation diet made her wolf meaner, hungrier, more vicious.
As she picked up her fork, the door leading to the kitchen opened. A man in a chef’s hat, dressed in a white uniform stained with spaghetti sauce, stood in the doorway.
Sloppy cook, she thought absently. The sauce had splattered over the lower half of his shirt, like a large bloodstain. She looked down at her lasagna.
The bowl filled with pasta was filled with wriggling worms swimming in sauce. Her fork clattered to the table.
Heart racing, she looked at the chef again. His face bulged and changed, the nose flattening, the eyes bulging out and yellowing, the mouth a red slash.
Demon.
Chapter 13
Keira’s thoughts spun crazily in her mind as she struggled against rising panic.
My team comes here for dinner.... The owners recently started serving lunch and opening earlier....
Wildly, she signaled to Dale, who, though he had set the baby back into the high chair, was as oblivious of her as the demon chef. Of course. She was one of the few who could see through any demon’s human disguise.
She had to let Dale know without alerting the demon. Keira beckoned to the waitress, who she could see now had a long, forked tongue snaking out of her thin mouth, and beady, red eyes.
“Something wrong with your meal?” she sneered.
“It’s delicious. But I’m afraid my companion’s lunch is getting cold. Would you mind returning it to the kitchen and reheating it?” She forced a smile. “He and his buddy got to talking. You know men when they catch up. Oh, and please bring me more garlic rolls.”
The demon waitress removed Dale’s plate and went into the kitchen, followed by the demon chef. That should keep them preoccupied for a few minutes.
She slid out of the booth and approached Dale, trying to appear casual and not raise suspicion. To her relief, the food on his friend’s table all looked normal.
No, the demons saved the good stuff for me, she thought. Keira squeezed Dale’s muscled shoulder. “Time to leave. Don’t bother with a carryout box. The meal’s not all that great, after all.” She looked at Blake. “Get your wife and kids out of here. Now.”
Dale stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. Blake’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t blurt out that the special of the day was live worms and the restaurant was run by demons. For all she knew, Blake was human, not a paranorm.
“There’s a gas leak in the kitchen,” she whispered. “I overheard them talking about trying to plug it.”
Blake and Dale both pushed back their chairs at the same time and stood. But Dale, thank the gods, looked in the direction of the kitchen and his eyes narrowed. He knew. He saw.
His friend only looked concerned.
The woman and the little boy had finished looking at the fish tank. The brightly colored coral fish and bluegills were all floating at the top. A sinister air fouled the restaurant, as cloying as cheap perfume. Why hadn’t she noticed it before?
Because it wasn’t until Blake called Dale’s name, she realized. Names had power and once the demons heard the name, and saw the taint of darkness clinging to Dale’s aura, they dropped the guise.
The powerful guise.
Immobilized, she watched a demon exit the kitchen and head right for the woman and the little boy. Clutched in the demon’s hand was a meat cleaver.
Keira didn’t wait to see if the demon planned to use it. The stones in her pocket glowed hot and fierce. She removed a crystal and called to the demon.
“The food here sucks!”
The demon turned as Dale made a strangled sound. The woman gasped and clutched her son. Damn it, still too close. She couldn’t risk hurting them.
“Blake, call your wife over here. Right now,” Dale ordered.
Fortunately, Dale’s friend did so. Lifting the boy in her arms, the woman ran to join her husband.
“Get out of here, Blake. I’ll handle this. You’ve got your family,” Dale told him.
The man hesitated, as if he wanted to help Dale, but hustled his family out of the restaurant.
Keira threw the crystal. It hit the demon in the chest and sank deep. Gray blood splattered the clean granite counter.
Her focus centered on the dying demon, and the others now entering the dining room. Three, five... Oh, damn. Ten demons.
One she could defeat. But ten? Odds were not too good.
“Keira!”
She turned and caught the salt shaker Dale tossed to her. “Throw it on them!”
She pelted the first demon with the salt, watched its skin dissolve. The demon clawed at its chest and howled.
But they couldn’t vanquish them all with salt. Dale threw another salt shaker and it landed at the demon’s head. It exploded in grayish mess.
“Behind me,” he growled, and removed a pistol from his back pocket. Before she had time to tell him bullets wouldn’t kill these demons, the navy commander fired several shots.
Not at the demons, but at the bottles overhead on the shelves. Glass exploded, showering vinegar and pickled vegetables down on the demons, who clawed at the shards.
Dale shoved the pistol back into his jeans, grabbed her hand and they ran out of the restaurant, slamming the door behind them as the demons rushed forward. They leaned their weight against the heavy wood door as Blake stood by his SUV, his family secure in the car.
“Curt! You need my help?” the man called out.
“Stay where you are,” Dale yelled back. He looked at Keira. “Cell phone, right pocket. Dial pound-three and then hold the phone up to my ear. Those are ectoplasmic demons. Shape-shifters who imitate human form. Had some acquaintance with them on a mission a few years ago by the Red Sea. What the hell are they doing here?”
Dale braced his weight against the door, fighting to hold the demons back as they scratched and pounded on the door. The frame shook.
“They didn’t materialize until your friend called your name. They’re after you, and everything and everyone associated with you.”
She fumbled with his phone, pressed pound-three. When a male voice answered, she held the phone to Dale’s mouth.
“Red zone warding, Taste of Naples restaurant ASAP! Bring all you have,
” Dale barked out.
She clicked off the phone and leaned against the door. Horrified, she saw a forked tongue flick between the frame and the wall, licking her ankle.
“Oh, gross,” she cried out and stomped on it.
A car filled with men in navy uniforms pulled into the parking lot and the sailors climbed out. They stared at Dale and Keira.
“Sorry, restaurant’s closed,” Keira called out, struggling to keep the door shut. “Health-department orders. Rats inside. Big ones. Really big.”
Desperate, she looked at Dale. “Use your powers. You’re the only one who can dispatch them.”
The door kept shaking and trembling as the demons screeched and wailed. “You’ll have to hold the door.”
“I can do it. Just be quick. On the count of three, when they rush outside, hurl a ball of energy at them.”
“I don’t have enough power for all of them. One or two, yes.” Dale clenched his fists. “If only I wasn’t so damn weak.”
“Pull strength from the sun. Elemental energy for an Elemental Primary Mage. Hurry!”
Dale stepped away from the door and into the sun as she struggled to hold the door closed. Stretching his hands upward, he closed his eyes. Sunbeams streamed down toward him like the rays of a rainbow, pouring into his body. As he looked at her, his gray eyes glowing with fiery power, she felt her feet slip and skid.
The door opened a few inches and a claw lashed out. Biting her lip, she used all her strength to push it shut again.
“Keira, on three! One, two...”
“Three,” she whispered and let go, ducking and rolling to the ground.
Dale blasted the demons with energy balls. They screamed and exploded into grayish muck, splattering the sidewalk.
Keira lay on the ground.
Gray gaze steady, Dale helped her up.
The carload of sailors stared at them, their mouths hanging open, as a shiny black SUV screeched to a halt before the restaurant. On the back of the SUV was a bumper sticker that read Orgasm Donor. Doors opened and four muscled men jumped out and raced over. She recognized Ensign Sully. The other three must be Dale’s SEALs, as well. Tight-faced, they ran over to their commanding officer.
“A little late,” Dale said drily. “You missed all the fun and games.”
“Curt! You okay?” the tallest one asked.
He gave a rough nod. “We’re fine. Need a mind cleanse on the lookie-loos over there ASAP. I’ll handle Lieutenant Blake and his family. Implant the memory the restaurant was evacuated due to a propane-gas leak.”
The tall SEAL grabbed a bag from the SUV and handed a penlike instrument to Dale, then took two others. The men rounded up the bystanders and used the cylinder to flash light into their faces.
Dale did the same to Blake and his family, then shook the lieutenant’s hand before they headed to their car. He jogged back to her and scrutinized her face.
“You okay?”
She nodded, drawing in several deep breaths. “I had to figure out how to warn you without alerting your friend and his family. I knew what was going on as soon as the food was delivered.”
His jaw tightened. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. Blake and I go way back and I hadn’t seen him in months.”
“No prob. Not like we were on a date. Good thing, too, because if this were a date and you took me to a place where demons served bowls of worms disguised as spaghetti, I’d have to end our relationship. I prefer my worms dead and sautéed, not swimming in marinara.”
He smiled and touched her hand. “Live worms and demons are deal breakers, huh? I’ll remember that next time we go out.”
Her insides clenched at the power of his smile, and the simple caress of his hand against hers. She didn’t want this attraction, didn’t want to get close to Dale.
Keira pulled away. “Not necessary. Going out to eat is overrated, anyway.”
Dale gave her a speculative look as if he read her mind and knew she deliberately lowered her expectations because she didn’t want to face disappointment. So much disappointment in the past.
Changing the subject, she gestured to the four men finally approaching them. “Your team?”
Dale introduced her. The tall one with the quiet air who wore a shiny gold wedding ring was Matt Parker. Dallas and J.T. were the other two, and she already knew Sully.
“Keira Solomon. She’s a Luminaire psi therapist and healer, and I hired her as my housekeeper.”
She kept a smile firmly in place, knowing Dale didn’t want his men knowing her real purpose, though he probably wouldn’t even admit it to himself.
“Luminaire psi therapist?” Matt asked.
“Yeah, but don’t let that fool you. She makes a great chocolate cake and not all that wheat-germ organic stuff that other Luminaires love,” Sully said.
“Luminaires. New Age hippies. Peace, love and all that bullcrap. What a waste,” Dallas murmured.
He exchanged a look with J.T. Irritation gnawed at her. Why did everyone always look as if she were about to break into a chorus of “The Age of Aquarius”?
“Nice truck,” she told Dallas. “Yours?”
At his proud nod, she added, “Nice bumper sticker, too. Does your mother know about it?”
The three other SEALs laughed at Dallas’s red face. Keira cautioned herself. She treaded on dangerous turf. Shay, the SEAL in training, had seen her face, although he couldn’t remember her name, thanks to the demon spell. But she couldn’t be certain he had not told the other SEALs what little he remembered.
The best defense was a good offense. She smiled and stuck out a palm to the scowling Dallas.
“Let’s start over. I’m Keira Solomon, Luminaire, psi therapist and healer, and all-around snarky woman when I’ve been tangling with a restaurant filled with demons. Didn’t mean to poke fun at you, but when your spaghetti lunch turns into a bowl filled with worms, one does tend to get a little testy.”
As he shook her hand, his eyes still narrowed, so she added, “So glad you guys did show up. We can’t be certain there aren’t other demons lurking inside the restaurant, demons who didn’t come out.” Her smile dropped as she thought of the innocents who may already have died. “Or that they killed the real owners and staff.”
The scowl finally faded from Dallas’s handsome face. He looked at the restaurant, his expression thoughtful. J.T. cleared his throat. “They’ve been opening a new restaurant in Maine. Mark and Tina took their staff with them and turned this restaurant over to their ‘cousins’ while they are gone.”
“We didn’t think any relatives would have the same home cooking as Tina makes, so most of us shunned the place.” Matt gave Dale a steady look. “We were going to tell you, but it slipped our minds. You were in the hospital still.”
“Right,” Dale said. “Check out the rest of the restaurant. I want a full report in fifteen.”
“Yes, sir. We’re glad you’re okay,” Matt said.
“We freaked when we got your message. Not that you couldn’t handle it,” he added, as a scowl darkened Dale’s face.
“But we worried something big was going down. After I told the others about that demon gnawing on my neck, we needed to make sure you were okay, Curt,” Sully added.
J.T. and Dallas nodded.
“Don’t want to lose you, Curt. After what happened to you...” Dallas stopped.
“I’m fine,” Dale told him. “Now go do your job and I’ll feel even better. We’ll be out here.”
Keira’s chest felt hollow. Dale had people who cared about him.
She did not.
He escorted her over to an outdoor table while the SEALs investigated. Keira sat down, grateful to rest her shaky legs.
She drew circles on the tabletop with her forefinger. Gently, he clasped her wrist. “You sure you’re all right?”
“Not really. I’m a little queasy.”
“Nearly eating worms does that to you.” He stroked a thumb over her thudding pulse. “Not many women could hold
it together as well as you did back there. You’re a strong one, Keira Solomon. Not your typical New Age hippie.”
At his wink, she laughed. “Your men are like you. Very pragmatic.”
“A little. But they’re all individuals, each with their own talents and personalities. It’s what makes the team strong, like a family.”
“You’re proud of them,” she said, not wanting to hear more about teams and family and all the things she’d never have.
“They’re good men, all of them. We’ve been through a lot together.”
He frowned. “Why were the demons here? What did they want?”
You, she almost said.
“It’s the dark energy you have inside you,” she told him. “I told you, you’re a demon magnet. They must have been attracted to your energy pattern, knowing you have frequented this place.”
The SEALs emerged from the restaurant. Matt held up a large rice sack. “Not all of them are dead, Curt. Found this one in the freezer, trying to hide, but the temperature killed it.”
Icy cold slammed into her as he set down the bag and opened it. Dread curled down her spine as she peered at the creature inside. Oh gods, oh gods. It was the size of a small woman, but with pale, hairless skin, a bald head, pointed ears, long talons and the nubs of breasts. Pointed teeth showed through its parted lips.
“Jimali,” she breathed. “Oh, Jimali.”
“What’s a Jimali?” Dale demanded.
Not answering, Keira sagged onto the chair, trying to collect her reeling thoughts. Jimali was another Centurion slave she’d met while the woman was still human. Jimali started to enjoy tormenting men after doing it for decades, but as a result, lost all her inner white light, and eventually, her soul, becoming a shriveled, ugly shell of her former self.
This is what I’ll become if I don’t defeat the Centurions.
Glancing at his men, she gave a tight smile. “It’s a toy for demons. Kind of like a dog toy, without the squeak. And it’s not dead. The cold just paralyzed it. Keep it locked up tight because when it comes back to consciousness, it’s going to be in a real bad mood.”
All five men studied her with narrowed gazes. Ignoring the others, she turned to Dale. “Can I talk with you alone?”