by Terry Spear
She took a deep breath. Time to tell her uncle the truth. “I’m half demon.”
He swung around and gave her a look of contempt. “You might have a nasty temper at times, though I’ve never seen it, but you’re not half demon. I can’t believe your mother has filled you with that nonsense just to protect that bastard, Andy Carver.”
“A Matusa demon is after me, or at least I’m sure he will be.” She walked into the room and ran her hand over the oak headboard, noting there was not a speck of dust anywhere. “Mom wants you to teach me some stronger personal defensive spells. And you need to apply more protection around your house.”
His eyes hardened. “I won’t play into this delusion your mother is feeding you.”
“Fine, then I’ll return home. No sense in me staying here if you’re not going to help me. Mom’s powers are too weak, but I’m sure that somehow together, we’ll manage.” Though she assumed being here might keep her far enough away from the Matusa, and he might not try to locate her. She whipped around and returned to the living room.
Uncle Stephen followed her. “I’ve been saying it all along, that your mother needed to see a specialist for her fantasies.” He took his seat in the living room again and lifted his coffee cup. “I’d like to know what’s really going on. She wanted you to stay with me briefly last summer to learn more magic skills, but I can’t understand why she wants you to stay all summer this year. Have the two of you been having problems?”
“No.” Well, not that she wanted to discuss with her uncle. She still couldn’t get over being mad that her mother had a fling with a demon, that she was the result of it, and hadn’t told her.
“I wondered maybe if she’s taken Dad’s advice.” Uncle Stephen’s eyes were almost sympathetic.
Her mother hadn’t taken her grandfather’s advice since he kicked her out of the family when she became pregnant. Which meant Alana hadn’t had anything to do with her grandparents either. She frowned. Wonder what my demon grandparents would be like? She’d never even considered she had another set. “What advice did Grandfather give her?”
“That she find a warlock and settle down.”
She snorted. “That would be the day.” Yet a small niggling worry gnawed at her. What if her mother wanted to rejoin the secret magic users’ circles?
She could, once Alana was no longer at home. Was that what her mother was up to? She wanted to find a life with her own kind again? Clenching her teeth, Alana sat down, then took out her contacts. She had one more year left at high school. Couldn’t her mother wait until she went to college at least? Whose fault was it that Mom had ruined her own chances with a warlock?
Secrets, always secrets.
But… if her mother returned to the magic users’ circles, where would that leave Alana? Out in the cold? Not able to be part of the demon world or really fit into the human world… jeez, what had her mother done to her?
“What are those? Contacts? Why are you wearing them? None of us have vision problems.”
“I have red eyes when I get angry.” She tried to make her temper rise, but she couldn’t. The feelings had to arise naturally and despite how annoyed she was with her uncle, she apparently couldn’t make herself angry enough. And now she couldn’t quit wondering about the way her mother shipped her off so suddenly.
He shook his head. “She’s really taken this thing too far. Why didn’t you tell me about this last summer? I would have made sure you didn’t return to live with her.”
The way her blood boiled, Alana was certain her eyes glowed with fire, but her uncle didn’t seem to notice anything different. Ignoring his question, Alana figured she’d better get to the point of the matter. “I saw a Matusa demon summoned in Baltimore, then murder a woman. I’m sure the other two who had helped summon him were next on his agenda. He saw me watching him, but I wasn’t really physically there. I could sense everything in the darkened alley, the breeze, the odors, hear the words spoken, everything. It was some kind of an astral dream-walking experience. You know? Like being sleep paralyzed? Except I’m wide awake. So it’s not exactly like the out-of-body-experience, OBE, that scientists have studied. How could I be in two places at once if I wasn’t part demon? No witches or warlocks you know can do that, can they?”
“Hallucination? You’re not eating some of those mushrooms your grandmother was getting into last year, are you? She saw some of the most bizarre things until we realized what she was eating for a midnight snack.”
“I don’t do drugs, Uncle Stephen.”
Her uncle’s face turned stormy. “You haven’t had a near death experience, have you? If your mother didn’t tell me…”
“No, Uncle Stephen. I’ve never been clinically dead, or nearly dead.” Though if the Baltimore Matusa got hold of her…
He took a ragged breath. “That’s good to hear. If you’re done with your coffee, we’ll go back to work.”
So that was it? No death experiences, no using drugs, dismiss the issue? She growled inwardly. “Defensive spells?”
“Levitation, until you get your mind centered where it needs to be.”
Now, aren’t my eyes glowing red?
***
A half hour later, as the sun’s fiery orange glow sank beneath the earth, Alana was levitating two coffee cups. Concentrating was proving to be more difficult by the second, but she knew focusing had a great deal to do with successfully casting any spell.
She squinted, trying to make out the title on the book Uncle Stephen was reading. Barbecue recipes? He looked up at her, making sure the cups hadn’t moved.
Relaxing New Age music played overhead. The fragrance of the coffee lingered in the air. She licked her lips and could still taste the sweetened decaf. Outside, a light rain pattered on the cement walk, and she smelled the shower-cleaned air, totally attuned to her surroundings.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the cups. But before she knew what was happening, her eyes focused on a vision—a sign, Hayworth Motel, rusted, swinging loosely in the Texas breeze. Then her gaze shifted. The yawning portal filled with light drew her forth.
The wind whipped at her hair and clothes, and the garbage odor from a nearby dumpster permeated the warm, humid air, a slight rain drizzling.
A man moved into her vision, not from the portal, but from a few feet away. A Matusa demon with long, dark hair, but not the same as the one in Baltimore. Her breath caught. He didn’t see her yet, and she wanted to slip out before he did, but then she saw another. Much younger, maybe her age or a little older, he was tall like her Uncle Stephen, his blond spiked hair cut short, his blue eyes sharp and wary.
He was like the other, but not. She couldn’t pinpoint what made him different, besides being younger, but he was also a Matusa. She’d never seen two of them together. Was this something new? A gathering of the Dark Ones before they plotted to conquer the human race?
But where was the summoner?
Both the older man and the younger one turned to look at her, their eyes widening. Ohmigod. She took a step back. Leave, leave, leave!
The older one’s lips turned up and his eyes reflected his sinister delight. “She’s mine.”
Chapter 4
The golden-haired vision near the portal suddenly vanished into the dark. Hunter didn’t need any distraction when it came to dispatching a Dark One, but the girl who appeared, then disappeared, couldn’t help but shake him. She wasn’t just any girl, either.
Luckily, the older Matusa appeared as astonished. More importantly, he didn’t believe Hunter planned to send him back to his world. That was the only good reason for being one of the Matusa’s kind. Well, that and the fact they were some of the strongest in existence.
“Did you get a fix on the girl?” the Dark One asked, his long jaw barely moving when he spoke.
Even though Hunter was six-one, the Matusa towered over him. The guy played with a ruby encrusted gold cross hanging around his neck. It looked ancient and Hunter wondered just how old he was
and who he’d killed for the cross. It wasn’t a symbol used in the demon world.
“Kubiteron, right?”
The demon’s black eyes sparkled with humor and his lips curved up cruelly. “Yes. Easily enslaved. She’s mine,” he said again.
No Matusa was enslaving any lesser demon in Earth world. Time to make his move. Hunter gave a powerful side kick, slamming his size eleven sneaker into the demon’s chest. He grunted and fell back. A look of surprise crossed his face, but before his eyes glowed red, Hunter swung his hand like a knife at the Matusa’s throat.
Every move was meant to push the Dark One back through the portal before he could use his evil powers.
Choking and trying to catch his breath, the demon clutched his throat, his head dropped forward. Hunter kneed him in the nose, breaking the cartilage with a crunch. Blood splattered the pavement. The Matusa howled.
Feeling invincible, Hunter followed up with another kick in the chest. One more shove, and the bastard would be through the portal. Score another point for the good guys.
Hunter lunged for the final push. The demon smiled maliciously, the look in his dark eyes chillingly sinister. His trim fingernails extended into daggers. Before Hunter could dodge them, the demon swiped his claws at Hunter’s arm. Like knives, the claws ripped through Hunter’s sleeve and dug deep into the skin and muscle.
With the gouges burning like fire, Hunter did a jump kick and knocked the Matusa back a few more inches. But not far enough.
“You will die,” the demon promised. He slashed at Hunter’s belly.
Hunter fell back, his movements turning sluggish, his strength dwindling. His vision blurred and the Matusa’s face wavered. He struck at Hunter again. Hunter feinted diving one way, then jumped the other and avoided the sharp claws aimed at striking his throat.
With a last kick, Hunter propelled the demon back to his world. Pain streaked up his bloodied arm, paralyzing it. Cradling his injured arm, Hunter said the spell to close the portal. He headed for his pickup, cursing himself for his ineptness. Never had he let one get the best of him. Stupid. Just plain stupid. He didn’t even feel any elation over returning the demon to his world like he usually did.
Jumping into the cab of his pickup, he yanked his phone off his belt and called Jared.
“Hunter? How’d it go?” Jared asked, his voice strained.
It should have pleased him that Jared was concerned, but he didn’t like being fussed over. His mother did enough of that. “I’ve sent the Matusa to his home world, but there’s another demon I have to locate and send back. Not tonight though. I’ve had enough of a workout for one evening.” Hunter drove in the direction of the library, his skin overheated and sweating from the workout.
“Wow, Dallas is starting to have a real problem with this. But I didn’t see a signature for another Matusa.”
“She’s a Kubiteron.” Hunter gritted his teeth against a new wave of stabbing pain trailing down his arm all the way to his fingertips. Even his fingernails hurt.
“She? Someone’s love slave?”
“How do I know?”
“Her summoner must have been nearby.”
“Didn’t see anyone. Hey, you got your first aid kit with you?” Hunter knew by morning his wound would heal, thanks to demons’ remarkably advanced healing powers. But he couldn’t let his mother see the mess.
“How bad is it?”
Red streaks ran up his arm from the bloodied gouges in the skin—signs of an infection. “A few scratches, but Mom’s going to have a conniption if she sees my torn shirt. Looks like I tangled with a mountain lion at the Dallas zoo and lost.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. Kubiteron, eh? Don’t see any signature for her.”
“What are they capable of? Can you look it up for me? I’m not sure what to think. One minute she was there, then the next—”
Jared swore under his breath.
“What’s the matter?”
“A truck nearly hit me. Got to concentrate on my driving. Be there in a few.”
Hunter drove into the parking lot of the brightly lit library and cut his engine. It was open until ten, and luckily they had another hour to spare. Glancing into the backseat of his truck, he realized next time he’d have to be better prepared: bring a change of clothes, first aid kit, and anything else he might need after tangling with a Dark One.
Totally wiped out as if he’d had a rigorous ju jitsu workout while suffering from a horrible bout with the flu, he slumped in his seat. Pain, like a hot poker, shot up the nerve endings closest to the wound and worked its way into his chest.
Trying to get his mind off the throbbing wound, he attempted to sort out how to locate the source of the demon summonings. Neither Jared nor he had come up with much of anything except for a summoning book in the possession of one of the summoners, which they had promptly destroyed.
A few minutes later, Jared’s yellow Jeep roared into the parking space beside Hunter’s pickup. Once Jared arrived, Hunter normally would be out of his truck and halfway up the steps to the library. But he couldn’t call upon the strength to move a muscle.
Jared’s mouth gaped as he bolted around to Hunter’s door. “Got an extra sweatshirt you can wear.” Looking at the damage to Hunter’s arm, he cursed. “Man, you really did tangle with a wild cat.”
“Yeah, but by morning it should be well healed.”
Jared wrapped Hunter’s arm with a bandage, then helped him into the sweatshirt. “You look like hell. Are you going to be all right?”
“Yeah.” Though he’d never been clawed like that before, and the burning sensation wasn’t letting up.
“Did you want to go inside?”
“Got to get some books for Dara. Here, can you help me with this?”
Jared took the list and shook his head. “She won’t ever be able to read all of these in time, unless they’re all picture books.”
His head swimming, Hunter grabbed the hood of his truck, which sent more pain darting through his system.
“Hey, dude, you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Fine,” he grouched. He was half Matusa and demons like him didn’t show weakness, especially to a lesser demon like Jared. Not that he really consciously thought of Jared as a lesser demon, but the pecking order seemed to be in their genes.
Somehow, Hunter made it to the library, though Jared grabbed his arm when he faltered like a drunken man. Again, Hunter felt the urge to scowl at Jared, hating that he looked too puny to do anything on his own.
When they walked inside the library, he couldn’t smell the mold or dust like he normally could. His vision blurred slightly, and Jared helped him to a long wooden table. “Sit here. I’ll get the books and be right back.”
Hunter tried to ignore how bad he felt. As usual after a fight, a broken movie reel replayed the confrontation with the demon in his mind. Hit, kick, chop. Everything was perfect, until Hunter gave the demon enough time to extend his claws and get a swipe at him. Faster. Every move had to flow into the next, fluidly with a deadly punch, no hesitation. Taking care of the other at the Holiday Excursions Inn, then this Matusa at the Hayworth Motel in one night, had probably been too much for him to handle. Yet, the sooner he sent the demons back, the less of a chance they had to harm anyone. He still couldn’t get over the fact there were two Matusas in Dallas, which meant things were bound to go from bad to worse in a hurry.
The pounding in Hunter’s head grew, and he shut his eyes.
The image of the Kubiteron demon appeared in his mind. She stood near the portal, the breeze sweeping her blonde hair into her jade eyes, her lips parted. Her gaze had shifted from the Matusa demon to him, surprise reflecting in them. Petite, dressed in hot denim shorts that showed a lot of tanned leg and a tank shirt that revealed even more skin, she stirred his blood. Why had she appeared before them and how? And where had she disappeared to?
An icy hand clapped over his forehead. Hunter jumped and cursed under his breath at Jared. “Don’t sne
ak up on me!”
“Jeez,” Jared said, “you’re burning up. I checked out your sister’s books, but I’ve got to get you home. Can you drive?”
His vision glazed, Hunter stared at his friend.
“I didn’t think so. Your parents are going to throw a fit. How are you going to explain this to them?”
Hunter shook his head and grabbed Jared’s arm, then pulled himself up and reeled. “I’m driving home. I’ll sneak in, leave the books for my sister, and go to bed. I’ll be all right in the morning.”
“If you die on me, your parents are going to be pissed. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”
“No, I’ll be fine, Jared,” he growled, not liking that he had to waste what little strength he had arguing with him.
“I’ll follow close behind.” Jared helped Hunter to the truck. They both stood the same height but Jared was a little stockier built. And right now, his strength came in handy. “I don’t know, Hunter. Maybe you should go to the hospital.”
“And what? Tell them a demon did this?” Hunter closed his eyes against the torment.
“You might need an antibiotic.”
“I’m fine.” Scowling, he climbed into his truck and leaned against the steering wheel, his mind drifting. All his senses seemed to be fading, except for the excruciating sense of touch, which was the only thing keeping him from passing out completely.
“Home, Hunter. I’ll follow you.”
Home. Hunter backed out of the parking area, felt a jolt to the truck that he’d never experienced before and headed to his house. The center stripe along the route disappeared, and he didn’t remember seeing any signals or stop signs on the way home. Which was just as well, as wiped out as he felt. An angry car horn blasted somewhere in the distance a couple of times. The trip seemed to take hours instead of the usual fifteen minutes. When he parked the truck curbside at his home, the vehicle tilted to one side, and he struggled to open his door.