A few minutes later, Jess emerged, dazzled him with another one of her toothy, white smiles, and yelled, “Thank you and take care of her!”
“Take care of you,” he called as the door shut. He hurried to a front window and peeked out to make sure she was safely in a vehicle. A Sportage turned around in the lane with Jess sitting on the passenger side. In the driver’s seat, an African American woman in her mid-20’s caught him watching. She waved. He held up one hand in farewell as the vehicle headed back out to the township road.
He returned to the kitchen, where the Mr. Coffee was chugging out the last drops of brew into the pot. His favorite mug sat in the dish drainer. Taking the cup, he filled it up, and the aroma of dark roast wafted over his face.
“Could I have a cup?”
He glanced over his shoulder, his heart leaping at the sight of Daffodil doe-eyed from sleep, her face with more color than it had had the night before. Dressed in pink-and-red pajama shorts and a matching top, she looked like she could have just stepped out of a lingerie catalog. He handed her his mug, then reached for another in a cabinet.
“Want some food?” he asked. Now she was here with him, his brain had slipped into neutral. He didn’t know what to say, had no idea what she might need while she was staying with him. All he knew was that he wanted her there and would protect her with his life.
He paused as he poured the second cup of coffee. His life? Yes, he would protect her at all costs. But why was this woman so damn important to him? He turned and faced her. She met his gaze, her eyes wide, sincere. She seemed content, at ease. Last night she’d been so uptight that she probably would’ve rocketed to the moon if he had startled her.
“I might eat something after I’ve had a couple cups of coffee,” she replied, jarring him back to reality.
“I haven’t stayed here for a while,” he said, “so I’ll have to buy some groceries, but I have plenty of coffee, some pancake mix and syrup.”
“That’s fine.”
He set about gathering a skillet, the mix, thankful it was a just-add-water brand, and a half-full bottle of syrup. Without looking at her, he tested the waters to see if she wanted to talk. “Is this Erza dude someone who is filling in for Hudson as MC president?”
“Yes,” she replied.
Behind him, she swallowed, then the thump of the mug on the island’s countertop followed.
“What’s his last name?
“Smith,” she answered.
“Ezra Smith.” He shook mix into a bowl. “Name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“It’s a bullshit name.”
At that, he stopped what he was doing and faced her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s not human. He’s some sort of devil or demon.”
She said it so serious that it made the hair on Phil’s neck stand up. Her grave expression spoke volumes. Was Ezra somehow responsible for the deaths? He’d heard the old-timers speak of unholy things, but he’d always dismissed such stories and claims because he’d never actually witnessed anything supernatural outside of other lykoi. Maybe Daffodil was the key to solving the MC’s problem.
“And don’t tell me such things don’t exist,” she continued calmly. “I know about lycanthropes, so demons and other crazy things”—shrugging, she picked up her cup again and sipped—“are possible too. Hell, half or more of the River Rebels are werewolves.” Finally, she averted her gaze and stared into the mug. “Plus I’ve heard the guys talk about the Claiming and Maiming they attempted with the Werewolves of Rebellion. Are you a lycanthrope too, Phil?”
He gaped at her. Holy fuck!
* * *
Sunshine blazed down at an angle through the half-leafless trees. Bernadette followed the path down to the Little Muskingum River. At the bottom of the hill, she veered off to the right and walked the bottomland until she reached a jumble of boulders where the creek gathered in a deep pool before flowing around it to continue south. Although chilly, the air invigorated Bernadette. To her surprise, she found Scary Mary already sitting atop the flat rock.
“You beat me this time,” Bernadette called, waving to her.
“It won’t be much longer before we’ll have to move our weekly sessions inside,” Mary said.
“Yeah, it makes me sad.” After climbing the rocks, Bernadette settled herself across from her mentor. “I love it down here, but I don’t like the cold.”
“Worry is coming off you in big waves.” Tipping her head to one side, Mary gave Bernadette the once-over. “What’s wrong?”
She relayed what had happened the night before right down to telling Mary about how, fearful the demon-woman would enter their bedroom a second time, they’d slept in bedrolls on the living room floor next to two prospects.
“Frank’s in Rebellion now, trying to find an affordable window to replace the one that got smashed,” she finished.
Mary’s ebony gaze seemed to bore right into Bernadette, making her squirm, as usual. She met the woman’s eyes, refusing to look away. The tree limbs shook in a chilly gust that swept through the bottomland, stirring Bernadette’s hair and ruffling the edges of Mary’s heavy cloak and cowl. Bernadette shivered.
“What else, child? I know there’s something. You have the stink of bad magic clouding your aura.”
Her mentor’s words unnerved Bernadette. Instead of replying, she held out her arm, pulled her long-sleeved sweater up to her elbow, then flipped her hand, palm up, so Mary could see the fingerprint burn on the soft skin of her wrist.
“Damnation, child!” Mary leaned over and cupped Bernadette’s hand, tugging her closer. She peered down at the mark, then blew on it. The brand glowed faintly.
“How’d you do that?” Bernadette asked.
“You’ve been marked by some sort of devil. It’s reacting to my power, and your magic is most certainly why it marked you.” She brushed her thumb over the spot, and the mark flared brighter. “How did you get this?”
“A man at the courthouse, a very blond, very blue-eyed guy.” Bernadette told her about the times she’d seen him and how he’d touched her the day of the farmers market.
Mary shook her head, her locs whipping around her shoulders. “Not a man. A devil in the guise of a human.”
The unease that had been slithering around inside Bernadette transformed into a leviathan of fear. “My magic drew it?”
“Some supernatural creatures draw on power, some simply feed on the energy that each person or animal gives off, but you”—the woman reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew a silver cigarette holder and took a hand-rolled coffin nail from it—“are a blend of both magic and strong life energy, so you give off a beacon of power that it probably saw coming before you even encounter this creature.” From another pocket, Mary took out a plastic zip bag full of stick matches. She removed one and struck it on the stone where they sat. “It’s feeding from you, child.”
“I don’t want that!” She scrubbed at the mark, but it remained, mocking her with its presence. “This guy…thing…whatever he or it is…” Her fear kept growing, smothering her with its intensity. If she didn’t get a grip on it, her terror would defeat her. “This creature pops into my mind at unexpected moments.” She looked at Mary. “Even during sex.”
Realization spread over the witch’s face, and an “oh shit!” look appeared in her eyes.
“I don’t like your expression,” Bernadette stated. “You know something. What is it?”
“What you just now said…” Blowing out a lungful of clove-scented smoke, she closed her eyes as she grappled with some sort of thought, the lines around her eyes and mouth deepening.
“What?” Bernadette urged. “Tell me, Mary!”
“Based on what you’ve told me about what has happened at the MC, what happened to you and Frank last night, and this mark on your wrist”—she smoothed her fingers over Bernadette’s skin, her touch dry and warm, soothing—“and how you received it, I think I know what we’re dealing with—what the MC is
facing.”
Bernadette gulped. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear her heart was actually in her throat beating its way up to her mouth. She swallowed again in an attempt to force her growing panic into submission. “Mary? What are with dealing with?”
“Sexual demons,” Mary replied softly, as if she feared something would hear her. “Devils that feed off sexual energy as well as magic and life energy. A male is an incubus and a female is a succubus. They come to a victim in dreams or when one is disoriented and defenseless and latch on to your psyche, inspiring erotic dreams and visions.” She drew hard on her clove cigarette, its end glowing bright red, then held the smoke for a couple seconds, her dark gaze riveted on Bernadette. “They drain everything from a person,” she wheezed, white vapor twirling out of her mouth. Finally, she released a big cloud, the aroma of the spice wafting over Bernadette an instant before the cold wind whisked it up into the naked tree branches over their heads. “And when I say everything, I mean all that a person is, which is why Tony and Ass Crack were found as dried-up husks.”
These things were real? How could something like these demons exist? When had she stepped into The Exorcist? Supernatural creatures were real, she reminded herself. After all, she was mated to a lycanthrope, and she was a witch with growing powers.
“You’re struggling with this, aren’t you?” Mary asked.
She nodded. “I’m not sure why.”
“It’s because werewolves and witches are physical people that you talk to, work with, laugh with…but demons are from a different plane of existence, whether it’s hell or an alternate, dark reality.” After crushing out the butt of the fag, Mary opened the case again and removed another coffin nail. “Such creatures shouldn’t be possible in our world, but they are, and what makes it even more difficult to process is that they must have a physical body to interact on our plane, yet they can mess with you through your mind.”
Stunned, Bernadette kept staring at Mary in shock, but another gale rushed through the bottomland, its Jack Frost kiss taking her breath away and bringing her back to the here and now. She blinked several times and forced herself to settle and think clearly. “How do we fight these things?”
“We have to figure out who the leader is,” Mary answered. “It’s usually a male, but he can look like any human, therefore it can change its form to whatever person suits him.”
“If that’s the case, the females have the same power?”
“Yes.”
“Then that means that the…” She frowned.
“Succubi,” Mary stated.
“The succubi attacking the MC are probably sweetbutts, so-called women who are without mates, right? That way they’re not confined to one person,” Bernadette surmised. “The succubi wouldn’t transform into someone who is a fixture at the club, would they?”
“Probably not.” Mary struck another match and lit her cigarette, puffing on it until another cloud of smoke spiraled into the air. “These creatures want to blend, to come and go without incident so that no one is the wiser.” She flicked ashes. “Maybe we can use your mark to draw the incubus in to vanquish him.”
“What’s this ‘we’ shit?”
Mary snorted laughter and nearly spat her cig on the rock between her knees. “I’ve never had to deal with these creatures before, so let me do some research. You, however, need to stay with someone at all times. Don’t be alone. No naps by yourself in the bedroom.”
“Frank is gonna flip.”
“Research these demons on the Internet,” Mary advised as she struggled to her feet. “There are reputable witchcraft websites loaded with helpful information.”
“How would you know?” Bernadette asked, looking up at her. “You don’t even have a land line in your cabin.”
“I do go into town once in a while,” her mentor stated with a grin, “and there are these buildings called libraries.”
Unable to help herself, Bernadette laughed. “All right. I’ll see what I can find.”
“And I’ll delve into my demonology books and my grimoire.” Making her way down off the rocks, Scary Mary tugged her cloak closer to her body. At the bottom by the water, she paused. “Bernadette, once you’ve armed yourself with information, see if there’s some sort of ward or protection you can pass on to the MC when you warn them of this danger. Make sure everyone has another person with them no matter what.”
Bernadette hopped off the rock to stand next to her. “I will. You be safe too.”
Laughter burst from Mary. “This mama jamma hasn’t seen any action in years, so I might have me some fun if one of those things visits me!”
Shaking her head and giggling, Bernadette waved to her friend and set off up the long trail to the MC. However, the closer she drew to the main house, the more her worry returned.
Would they be able to defeat these creatures?
With resolve, she emerged into the field and passed the pond, determined to find something online that would help them fight this evil.
Upon reaching the house, she looked up at Frank as he positioned the new glass in their bedroom window. She didn’t want to startle him, so she headed inside where the women were cleaning up breakfast, then hurried on through the house and up the stairs. The door to their room stood half-ajar. Luella’s voice drifted out to her.
“Frank, you have to talk to Bernadette about this.”
“I will.”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks now.”
Bernadette’s worry mounted. All her insecurities rushed back. What was so important that Luella was insisting he approach her about it? What if…? No, she couldn’t let herself think the worst. Frank loved her. They’d made love in the workshop loft until she was sore the following day. Surely Luella wasn’t two-timing Beastman.
Heart hammering painfully, nausea assaulting her, she waited, unsure whether to announce herself or walk away.
Frank growled, then grunted. A thump followed. “Hold this side steady, Luella, while I find a piece of wood to wedge in this spot.”
“I’m sure Bernadette will understand your side of this,” Luella continued.
Oh, no, no, no…what has he done—they done? She gripped the doorframe, still hidden by the door, and waited for the dizziness to pass.
“I will talk to Bernadette when I’m damn well good and ready,” Frank groused, “and not before.”
“Fine.” Luella’s tone spoke volumes about her temper. “I’ll leave you be.”
“Tell Beastman I could use his help if he has a few minutes,” Frank said.
Panicked, Bernadette started to duck down the hall to the bathroom, but instead, she inhaled deeply and shoved the door open as she walked into the room. If there was going to be a confrontation about their relationship—whatever state it was in—then she’d get it over with now.
The door swung open to reveal Luella holding a broom in one hand and a dust pan in the other. She did a double take, her brow wrinkling. “Bernadette? What’s wrong? You look positively sick.”
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she confront them about their possible affair?
Frank finished what he was doing and reached her in two big strides. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “What is it, sweetheart?” He pulled her to him and held her tightly. “You learned something frightening when you met with Scary Mary, didn’t you? Tell me.”
Her worries about Luella and Frank would have to be addressed later. What she feared and what she wanted meant nothing until everyone at the MC and its community were safe. For the time being, she let him hold her, rocking her gently from side to side as she reveled in his clean male scent and the warmth he radiated. She told him about her meeting with Mary.
“I thought sex demons were myths,” Luella stated where she stood riveted at the foot of the bed.
“Until now, so did I,” Bernadette said. “I have to do some research online, see what I can learn to use to protect us. Judging by that she-devil’s reaction to salt, it’s mor
e of an irritation that momentarily distracts them instead of a protection.”
“And this leader is after you?” Frank’s voice rumbled in her ear where she had it pressed to his chest. “Why?”
“My power. My sexuality. My life energy,” she said.
“Ah, it’s getting a triple jolt from you,” Luella stated.
Bernadette moved back so she could look up at Frank. “Finish installing the new window. I’m going to start my research. Then, when I have some information we might use to protect ourselves, I’ll write out a list so you can use it when you call a meeting tonight.”
He smiled at her, prompting a thrill to wind through her. “Sounds like a good plan,” he said.
Stepping away from him, she slipped between him and Luella to get her laptop on the desk, then left the bedroom.
“I’ll see if I can find Beastman,” Luella said, her voice trailing Bernadette out to the landing. “He doesn’t work today, so he’s around here somewhere.”
“Thanks,” Frank said.
Chapter Fourteen
At the top of the stairs, Bernadette halted as Luella called out to her.
“Bernadette, a moment.”
“Yes?” She couldn’t look at her friend…if she was her friend.
“I know you heard me and Frank talking,” Luella began. “And it’s not what you think.”
With effort, Bernadette met Luella’s baby blues, but instead of seeing deceit, only compassion shone in them. “And what do I think, Luella?” Despite not wanting to sound bitchy, Bernadette failed miserably. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard the two of you whispering about something Frank should tell me but won’t.”
“We’re not fucking.”
Bernadette flinched.
“See?” Luella stated. “That is what you were thinking. I’d never screw around on Beastman. He’s my mate, my whole world. I’d give my life for him.”
“Then what is it? What’s bothering Frank?” A tear leaked from one of her eyes. She angrily blinked it away, but Luella used the pad of one thumb and wiped it free from her face. The sweet action sent remorse through Bernadette. She sensed she’d truly misjudged her friend.
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