Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld

by Christine Pope

  They had won, but James couldn’t help but feel they had lost something much worse than their lives. She sagged against his side. “Never again,” he murmured into her hair. “Never again.”

  Part Six: Sacrifice

  Chapter 14

  “James!”

  Elise burst through the apartment door. The air inside was stale having the windows and doors closed all day. Nothing had changed since she left—paper spells were strewn across the kitchen table, and a rug was rolled neatly against the wall. There were even vacuum lines on the carpet from the last time James cleaned.

  “I could use you at Motion and Dance, Betty,” Anthony was saying into his cell phone, trailing behind Elise. “There’s something going down. Elise is messed up and I’m confused and I need someone sane. Yes, you’re sane. What? God, shut up. Just get over here, okay?”

  Elise jiggled the handle on James’s door, and it didn’t open. She found the key on top of the molding for the bathroom door. The tumblers fell into place with an audible click.

  James’s bed was empty. She cut her gaze to the window—open—to the mess of papers and books on the floor. The sheets on his bed were a mess. Stephanie sat at his desk. She gazed blankly at the window.

  Anthony came up beside Elise and peered over her shoulder. “Was there a fight?” he asked.

  Elise gazed at the exposed mattress. Red drops blotted its surface. She ran her fingertips along one of the spots, and rubbed it between her finger and thumb. She didn’t need a forensic expert to know whose blood it was.

  “Stephanie,” she said. The doctor didn’t look at her. “Stephanie. Dr. Whyte.”

  Slowly, so slowly, she looked over to Elise. “They took him,” she said. Her voice was the kind of calm that came from having reached a point of such hysteria that she didn’t have any emotion left. “Those…things. They came through the window. I cracked it to get some air.”

  Elise hauled Stephanie out of the chair and slammed her into the wall by the door. Anthony gave a startled cry and stepped forward, but she shot him a look that froze him mid-step.

  “Are you working with her? Did you let Ann in? What the fuck did you do to him?”

  Stephanie’s face crumbled. “I didn’t do anything. James was resting peacefully. I got a phone call and after I hung up, they came in. They knocked me out. I woke up and…” She wouldn’t look at the bed.

  “Who called you?” Elise demanded.

  “Ann. She said she had a question for James.”

  “Did you tell her to come in? Did you tell her to take him?” She pulled back a fist, but Anthony caught it.

  “Elise!”

  He peeled her off Stephanie. Elise jerked her arm out of his grasp, but she didn’t move to attack again.

  The doctor adjusted her shirt, neatened her hair, and broke down into tears.

  “I don’t understand,” she cried. “What was that?”

  Stephanie sobbed for a good long minute, and Elise waited, drumming her fingers against her thigh. When the doctor showed no sign of letting up, she made a disgusted noise.

  “This isn’t helpful. Where did they take James?”

  Stephanie sucked in a hard breath, straightening and grabbing a tissue to blow her nose. The tears stopped as suddenly as they began. Long breath in, long breath out. When she spoke, her tone was measured and even. She enunciated each word with great care. “I have no clue. I was unconscious.”

  “What were you doing all day?”

  “I woke up a few hours ago and waited for you. I didn’t know what to do,” she said. “I think—I might go home.”

  “She’s in shock,” Anthony whispered.

  “Fine. Get out of here. Have a drink and lay down or something. You’re not doing any good,” Elise said. Stephanie left without saying another word.

  Elise stared at the spot of blood on the bed, her gaze narrowing until she saw nothing else.

  James was gone. Ann had him, and Elise had been right there the whole time.

  “I’m going to fucking kill her,” she said.

  Daylight waned. Clouds darkened what little sun remained. One moment, the air had grown still, and the next, rain poured out of the thunderheads. Lighting sparked over the mountains in the distance. Rain filled the streets and the people of the city took shelter inside.

  Inside Motion and Dance, a storm also began to break within Elise.

  “He’s not here,” she said.

  “Who?” Betty asked. Her friend Cassandra had given her a ride as soon as Anthony called, but Elise’s attitude made her wish she had taken a minute to put on full body armor first.

  Her roommate paced the dance hall like a caged animal, limping on every other step. Her eyes were darkened pits of fury. She had become the spirit of vengeance itself, barely contained by human flesh.

  Anthony cradled his forehead in his hands as he leaned against one of the mirrors in the main dance hall. He had stopped trying to talk when Elise almost punched him for it.

  “Who’s not here?” Betty repeated.

  “James. She took him.” She struck the palm of her hand with a fist. “I shouldn’t have left so fast. I should have searched the house. I should have…”

  “Hey, calm down,” Betty said, touching Elise’s shoulder. Her skin was hot. “Talk to me, girl. What’s happened?”

  “Ann has kidnapped my aspis for ritual sacrifice to a demon goddess of death.”

  Betty shook her head. “Yesterday, I would have said you were crazy. Today—well, you’re still crazy, but it’s contagious. What’s an aspis? Demons? Is that what that gargoyle thing was?”

  “That was a fiend.” She flung herself into the chair, shredding her jeans along the hole to turn them into half-shorts. Betty leaned in to examine the gashes on Elise’s legs. The blood had smeared, and the wounds were raw.

  “I hate to state the obvious, but…”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t look good,” Elise said. She pressed a towel emblazoned with the “Motion & Dance” logo against her injury. They were intended to be used by sweaty dancers. Elise’s blood soaked through the cloth quickly, obscuring the logo of the ballet man wrapped around the ampersand.

  “So what’s this about zombies?” Betty asked.

  “They’re not zombies,” Elise replied impatiently. “They’re the dead, possessed by a demon called Death’s Hand, and reanimated to do her evil bidding.”

  Betty began laughing again. When she saw that nobody joined her, she stopped. Elise’s eyes were cold. She was serious. Deadly serious. Betty deflated. “Oh, jeeze,” she said. “I can’t believe Ann’s evil. I mean, lazy Ann? ‘Let’s eat ice cream after working out’ Ann?”

  Elise dropped the towel in the trash can. “The one and only.” She moved her leg experimentally, watching the gashes.

  Betty spun on Anthony. “Why aren’t you as shocked as I am?”

  “We were attacked by some kind of mutant this morning, and then a dead body with bleeding eyes attack my windshield,” he said dully. “My ability to get shocked has eloped with my sanity and run away to Africa.”

  “I think I need the Reader’s Digest version of what’s going on,” Betty said.

  “I don’t have time for this. I need weapons and I need to bring all kinds of pain down on Ann.” She snapped her fingers at Anthony. “You’re taking me in the Jeep. Now.”

  “Fine.”

  Betty hurried after them as they went for the front doors. Elise spoke as she limped along.

  “So here’s what I told Anthony: I’m James’s exorcist friend. When working with Lucinde, I stumbled across a demonic plot to ascend to Earth from Hell. Ann is a powerful necromancer and she’s on his side. Now they’re planning to sacrifice James. Good enough for you?”

  “Wow. Uh. Okay. If Ann’s got James, why can’t we just walk in and take him? I mean, we’ve worked out with Ann. She’s not exactly formidable.”

  “She has a small army. We can’t ‘just walk in’ unless we deal with them first.”


  “Oh,” Betty said.

  Anthony opened the front door, letting in a wash of the moist air.

  A small figure stood silhouetted against the rain. She wore a slicker too big for her tiny body, and she stepped inside without being invited. The girl pushed back her hood, revealing a face with white eyes and cheeks tracked by blood tears. Her skin was pale, almost papery.

  Betty took a step back, covering her mouth with a hand. The little girl had a black symbol on her forehead, and her veins pulsed visibly beneath the skin.

  Elise sucked in a hard breath. “Lucinde.”

  “It’s like that zombie I saw earlier,” Anthony muttered. “But…it’s a kid.”

  The child’s blank eyes focused on Elise. Her mouth dropped open.

  “I have James,” she said. Her mouth didn’t move, and the woman’s voice that came out sounded like a recording. “You have the artifact of vedae som matis. Let’s be adults about this. I’ll cure James of the poison, return him to you, and leave the area. You won’t hear from us again. Just give back the staff.”

  Betty glanced at Elise. She was watching the girl with her lips set in a hard line.

  She went on. “I’ll take everything with me. You can return to living a normal life. I’m sorry we ever had to fight like this, Elise. I wouldn’t have chosen it. I want to meet at Our Mother of Sorrows at ten o’clock tonight. Send your response with my servant.” Her mouth clapped shut, and she stood, immobile, with her hand extended.

  Anthony shuddered. “That’s freaky.”

  “She looks like a demented doll,” Betty agreed.

  “Do you have that notepad in your purse?” Elise asked. She sounded calm, but tense.

  Betty gave her a piece of Hello Kitty stationary and a green pen. Elise scrawled out a message and stuffed it into the girl’s hand, which closed on the paper. She hid it inside her rain slicker.

  Her mouth dropped open once more. “Thank you.”

  Lucinde walked out with a mechanical gait. Elise lingered in the doorway to watch her go. “Ann’s actually willing to trade?” Anthony asked. “The way you were talking earlier, it seemed like James is too important for her to let go.”

  “He is too important,” Elise said. “She’s not going to let go of James now that she has him. I’m not going to return the artifact either.”

  “But you said…”

  “I lied.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m going to have to meet Ann, exorcise her servants, kill all the demons, and take James back,” Elise said. She laughed harshly. “No big deal. I don’t even think it’s possible to perform a mass exorcism. It’s never been done before.”

  Betty’s eyes lit up. “We could do some exorcisms.”

  “You wouldn’t have any idea what to do. There has to be another way.”

  “We could clone you,” Anthony said in a “you’re all crazy” tone of voice as he stalked away. “It’s no more insane than everything else that’s happening!”

  Elise took something out of her pocket, and Betty recognized it as an MP3 recorder. “That’s not a bad idea, Anthony,” she said. “But first, I have some business with a lawyer and his wife.”

  When Elise reached the Ramirez house, Marisa was loading her car, sheltered from the rain by a blue poncho. Her face was red, but her eyes were dry now, and she carried two suitcases under each arm. She flung them into the back of her Hummer.

  “Can I help you?” Elise asked.

  Marisa jumped. “Oh—Elise. I didn’t see you there.”

  She took a step toward the garage, but Elise moved in her way. “What’s the rush?”

  “I can’t stay here,” she said. “Augustin’s…angry. Throwing things. I’m going to go live with my mother.” Marisa took a deep breath. “We discussed divorce even before what happened to Lucinde. My bags have been packed in the garage for weeks now. But with what’s happened recently…”

  “Your daughter has gone missing,” Elise asked. “Somehow, she got possessed again. I don’t see how that could have happened unless someone surrendered Lucinde to the bad guy.”

  A look of panic shot across Marisa’s face. “What?” Her hand fluttered at her breast, and it was only then that Elise noticed the bruise from her collarbone to her shoulder. “Are you—are you saying that Augustin let someone hurt our baby? Madre de dios…it makes sense. He’s so angry!”

  Elise frowned. “Has he been beating you?”

  She jerked the poncho closed over her chest. “Yes.” Marisa swallowed hard. “Yes, he has. He’s gone crazy.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Augustin is inside. Don’t make me go back.”

  “Okay. Stay with your mom for now. I’ll find Lucinde, and I promise she will be safe,” Elise said.

  Marisa gripped her arm. “I never meant for James to find out we were having problems with our daughter. Do you understand? I always meant to keep things private. Your involvement—his involvement—was an accident. I’m so sorry.”

  “Go. I’ll take care of Augustin.”

  She bit her lip. Nodded again. “Thank you. My mother’s phone number is on the refrigerator. When you have found Lucinde—if you have saved her—call me. Please.” Marisa got into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

  She pulled out of the driveway as church bells tolled.

  Elise went inside without knocking. She held her breath to listen for sound—something like the pattering of feet or an accidental brush of leathery arm against the wall. The living room was empty and silent. She glanced into the kitchen, but there was nothing there, either.

  Elise made her way up the stairs, fists raised in the anticipation of an ambush. One of the family photos on the wall was askew, and another was missing entirely, making a gap in the long row of family history leading to the second floor.

  There had been a scuffle upstairs. A decorative pot that had once filled a wall cubby was now in shards on the floor. Lucinde’s door was cracked open. Elise pressed her back to the wall beside it, easing her fingers around the frame to push it open another inch and peek inside.

  There were no fiends inside, no possessed ones, and no Lucinde. Only Augustin—sitting on his daughter’s tiny bed and staring at the photo missing from the wall. He looked up at Elise and his eyes were full of hope. “Did you find her?” he asked. “Our daughter…”

  “No, Augustin,” Elise said. Her knife emerged from beneath her jacket, and she held it at her side. “I know what you did. Did Ann offer you money? Power?”

  “What? Who is Ann?”

  “You sold your daughter out. Your own blood.”

  He set the photo down on the bedside table. “Listen here. You may think you have some sort of—some right to come in and boss me around—but don’t be mistaken. I’m still the man of the house, and—”

  “I already got some of the story from your wife. Let me see if I can fill in the blanks.” Elise shut the door behind her and stepped forward to stand over Augustin. “Ann gave you money. It wasn’t a problem for you to betray your family; you don’t like your daughter anyway. You couldn’t even be bothered to be with her when I exorcised her. You get off on beating women, and—”

  Augustin stood. He towered over her, and his face was dark. “What did Marisa say?”

  “She told me that she’s leaving you. Marisa loves her daughter very much, which is more than you’ve shown.”

  “I love my daughter, just as I love Marisa. I could never hurt either of them,” Augustin said. He laughed bitterly. “I’m surrounded by crazy women. I thought Marisa would be different from my first wife, but then she started throwing things at me, just like Louisa did. And now you!”

  Elise opened her mouth to yell, but a thought stopped her. “Wait. Marisa’s not your first wife?”

  “Now I think I should have let Louisa have custody of Lucinde,” he said. He sat back down again with a moan. “Marisa’s leaving me. I should have known…”

  “If you didn’t beat her, then why is she b
ruised?”

  “Our daughter was possessed by a demon! Where the hell do you think it came from?”

  “You’re going to have to make something clear for me,” she said. “Is there any reason Marisa would sell your daughter out?”

  “She wouldn’t,” he said dismissively.

  “Your story doesn’t match hers. She told me that you’ve been angry and beating her and that you gave Lucinde up to the demon. Now you’re telling me neither of you did it?”

  “There’s no reason for you to think we’ve hurt Lucinde. Yes, Marisa and I have fought. This isn’t even the first time she’s left. But we do not abuse our daughter.”

  “If you’re lying to me…”

  Augustin took the picture off the bedside table again, cradling it in his hands. “Leave me alone.” His eyes burned through Elise.

  She stomped downstairs to the refrigerator to look for the phone number Marisa left.

  A single magnetic clip held a folded up paper that said Give to Elise Kavanagh. She unfolded it. The handwriting was loose and messy, and she jumped to the bottom—signed by Marisa—before going back to read it more carefully.

  I never meant for things to get so out of control. I love Lucinde. Ann told me this would cure her heart defect and make her powerful, but instead she died and now I’ve caused too much pain. This isn’t how I meant to get away from Augustin.

  Several lines were scribbled out and illegible. The next readable line said, She keeps everything in the attic. Tell him I’m sorry. Her name was scrawled hastily beneath that, and the pen had torn through the paper on the last letter.

  Elise’s fist tightened around the note. Her hand shook. “You should have asked for help,” she muttered. Marisa would never make it to her mother’s house—demons didn’t appreciate people who betrayed them.

  She dropped the note on the kitchen table and left.

  Chapter 15

  Elise took James’s car back to the studio feeling like she was in someone else’s nightmare. The only thing that warmed her was the thought of those six words—she keeps everything in the attic. She knew where James was. Now all she needed was a miracle so she could get into Ann’s place again.