Dweller on the Threshold

by Rinda Elliott

  “Okay,” I said, my voice coming out strangled. “We’ll find someone else.”

  “The council hired him because he’s the real deal. Not a poser and well, they wanted to summon Bael.”

  Even I knew who that was. The biggest and the baddest of the bad in demon society. I rubbed my hands over my arms to calm the goose bumps that had immediately flared. “Then he is the best and I want him. Skip the email. We’ll go to his house and persuade him.”

  She shook her head, curls bouncing around her eyes. “He won’t help.”

  “I can be damned persuasive when I want. We’ll make him go with us to… you didn’t say where you thought the host was located.”

  Her reluctance to open that minimized window was obvious. I was confused until she popped it up and I found myself looking at a very familiar picture. My stomach fell somewhere near my feet and everything in my body froze.

  “It’s the place, isn’t it?” she whispered. “The one you told me about in my shop?”

  I wanted to nod but suddenly spots flashed before my eyes. I braced one hand on the desk.

  Nikolos had gone completely still. “Do you know this place, Beri?”

  I finally got my muscles to cooperate. My nod was jerky. I put my hand over my stomach—like that would stop me from being sick. “Yeah,” I finally got out, voice scratchy. “It’s Big Cypress Swamp. It’s the place I was found.”

  He sighed, rubbed a palm over his face before sweeping his hair off his forehead with both hands. It shifted, shimmered, and settled around his shoulders as he shook his head. “There is more happening here. More I don’t know. Did you see the last killer on my walls at the shop?”

  “I didn’t get that far.”

  “Victor VonBrahm.”

  My knees shook. “Then he’s, he was—”

  “The last incarnation of the Dweller.”

  Blythe stood up and pushed her seat behind me. I slumped into it, dizzy. This was a killer I had studied. I’d even tried to find the place he’d been killed by one of his victim’s fathers. Twice. Both times I’d stepped into that forest, I’d felt the worst sort of terror and both times, I’d ended up lost. That had never happened to me before. I’d been found as a toddler in that swamp before VonBrahm was killed, so I’d always kind of assumed I was an escaped victim.

  Or the child of one of his victims. One who never escaped.

  I was going to have to go back. I sat up and looked around, meeting the gaze of every being in that room. Taking a deep breath, I nodded—more for myself than them. I could do this.

  “I feel like persuading someone. Let’s start with this Dooby guy.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nikolos—a man who had lived longer than any man, a man who must have seen many decadent societies throughout history, a man who should have known better—stepped close to me and whispered in my ear. “I think it’s a woman.”

  I kept a fixed expression, though it was damned hard. Laughing in this kid’s face would be the worst sort of insult. But Nikolos had reason to be confused.

  Mr. Dubious—Dooby—Silo was the most beautiful, androgynous person I’d ever seen. He could pass for either female or male easily. Around five-foot-ten, he had one of those long, sinewy and graceful forms that made women green with envy. He’d pulled his auburn hair into a tight ponytail that left his pointed features stark. Features so perfectly put together, he looked unreal—like something created in art or the imagination.

  Plus, he had the softest looking, full lips I’d ever seen on anyone.

  Baby blue eyes—the exact color of Blythe’s—had stared at me with shock before he’d narrowed them to glare at the witch. He’d then stuck out one, long-fingered pale hand to slam the door. I wedged my foot in the way before slowly pushing the door back open. I stepped over the threshold to make sure he understood we had no intention of leaving. And I kept going. Crowding him into the wall.

  He looked nervous for the space of a second before a confident, nearly feral grin made his face even prettier. Which was just wrong. “It’s not often the ultimate fantasy woman steps through my doorway.” He swept his hand out in a graceful arc and I squinted in that direction to make sure he hadn’t just conjured some kind of baddie. You never know with a necromancer—show-offs, all of them.

  “Welcome to my humble abode.”

  When I looked back, his grin had faded into a knowing smile and he’d tilted his head a bit to the left, his blue eyes hardening to ice. It was an obvious, practiced move that sent his long ponytail sliding around to caress his throat. Damn. No wonder Blythe had slept with him, demon-raiser or not. She’d explained in the car on the way that she didn’t normally go for anyone who worked in dark magic. Dooby had been her only exception.

  “Fantasy woman?” I repeated, amused.

  “Honey, you’re like the geek’s ultimate cover model.” He reached out to touch.

  I stepped back. “Hey!”

  “My apologies,” he offered. He had a deeper voice than one would expect from such a feminine face… and from one so young. He barely looked eighteen. And he’d had apprentices?

  “You are welcome in my home as is the stunner behind you.” He slid that sly grin toward Nikolos before snarling at Blythe. “The witch can wait in the car. I can even summon her a little company.”

  I could tell by Nikolos’s expression that he’d rather wait in the car, too—especially after that stunner remark. I couldn’t stop a smirk from briefly touching my lips. The temperature in the room seemed to be dropping fast. “Everyone is coming inside.”

  Dooby sighed dramatically and motioned Nikolos and Blythe through the door with a much less graceful hand movement.

  I heard Blythe take a noisy breath, saw her reach out for Nikolos’s hand and had to swallow a chuckle when he curled his much-longer fingers around hers. He actually stepped through first and had to duck his head. He pulled her behind him. She stayed there once they were both inside. Nikolos held the wrapped book in his other arm. None of us felt safe leaving it in the car.

  “My, aren’t you a tall one.” Dooby smiled, seductive as hell, and poked Nikolos in the chest with one finger. Then his lip curled, which didn’t detract from his prettiness in the least. He pointed at Blythe. “One fire and I’ll summon a flesh-eating zombie on your ass.”

  Blythe came around Nikolos and jauntily thumped her hands on her hips. “I can aim my fire so much better these days. Wanna see?”

  I popped her on the arm. “Stop making me like you.” I looked at Dooby. “Is there somewhere we can all sit and talk?”

  He was silent for a long minute before that obviously well-practiced alluring expression came back to his face. He ran his finger down my upper arm, smooched the air near my face and turned. “Follow me.”

  I wrestled with the desire to either smack the shit out of him for touching me or test something out. People who flirted as heavily as he did usually didn’t like it when the tables were turned.

  Nikolos gently touched my shoulder and I turned to find his dark, dark eyes sparkling with amusement. And I’d thought the boy was pretty. He had nothing on the giant. “What?” I whispered.

  “I’m completely fascinated by the ornery expression on your face but now is probably not the time.”

  I almost felt like squirming in embarrassment. Almost. Messing with the kid still carried quite a bit of appeal. I flashed him a saucy grin. “I know. Can’t hurt to think about it, though.”

  This time he frowned. “Maybe I misunderstood. You were thinking to return his seduction instead?”

  I opened my mouth with the words “get real” snapping on the end of my tongue but something in his eyes made me stop and swallow them. My heart picked up speed, and once again I felt that odd tension snap between us.

  Phro cleared her throat. “You two need a room.”

  “They had one earlier,” Fred said. “It didn’t do any good.”

  I held up a hand. “Not now. Goddess!”

  Dooby had
stepped into a sunken living room and stopped to watch our byplay. I noticed that he glanced at Blythe a couple of times. “Would you all like something to drink? I must apologize for my earlier lack of manners. I’m not often surprised. I usually know ahead of time when I’m going to receive visitors.”

  “How?” I glanced around for a crystal ball.

  “Nothing you can see here, I assure you. I have what you could call an inside track to bigger and better things.”

  “You mean worse,” Blythe muttered.

  He ignored her and pointed to the oddly-shaped colorful chairs on the far side of his glass coffee table. They were striped in bold, primary colors. A bright blue couch rested on this side of the table. Modern, expensive furniture for his modern, expensive house. A massive theater system stretched across one wall with speakers dotting the room. Summoning demons paid well, it seemed.

  Nikolos set the book next to Blythe on the couch, then he and I each took one of the weird chairs. I watched Blythe stare at Dooby, looking for any signs of an old attraction and finding none. Guess it was obvious who did the dumping in that relationship. Now she sat on the very edge of the sleek, uncomfortable-looking couch—her hands curving around her arms, rubbing up and down to warm herself. Out of nowhere, a huge fuzzy orange cat jumped onto her lap.

  “Beezy! Oh, Beezy, I’ve missed you so much. How is my lovely kitty?” She held the thing up to her face to nuzzle its whiskers. The bottom half of the cat was still drooped over the sides of her lap like it would have to be gathered up in sections. I had never seen a tabby that size—like a small bobcat, albeit an unhealthy one—and it had the strangest, extra fuzzy, black stripe down its back.

  “Beelzebub is my cat, witch.” Dooby stomped around the couch to snatch the feline into his arms. Its long body swung heavily for a second before it screeched, scratched his arm, and took off.

  Guess it knew whose cat it was.

  “Who were you talking to before?” he asked me.

  I shivered again. He kept his house just this side of freezing. I blew out a breath to see if it was visible. Thing is, I could lie to him, but as a necromancer it was possible he could see my guides and didn’t want me to know it. Lying right now wouldn’t get him to come with us, so I went with honesty. “I can see my spirit guides, talk to them.”

  He stared at me a minute, then grabbed a tissue from a box on the coffee table. He blotted the fresh scratch. “I knew you were something. A medium, huh? I’m cool with that.” He sat in the only other chair in the room—a huge purple recliner with a gold footrest. He propped his bare feet up, crossed his ankles and kind of slunk into the back of the chair. “So, what’s up?”

  Before answering, I did a little dimensional surgery and found no spirit guide around him, which didn’t really prove anything. He could be very powerful and not have one or he could have sent his on an errand. The only other necromancer I’d met with a spirit guide had treated his like some kind of executive assistant. Or slave. I tightened my lips and decided to just get to the point. “We need to summon a demon spirit and fast. We’d like to hire you.”

  “I’m very, very exclusive. Also expensive.”

  Nikolos sat forward, pulling the boy’s eyes to him. “I can pay whatever you ask.”

  “Oh.” He sat up on the edge of his seat. His feet slapped the floor as he leaned his elbows on his knees and propped his chin in his palms. “That accent! I’ve never heard it before. Where are you from?”

  “Everywhere,” I snapped, earning myself a frown from the man in question. “And nowhere. It’s not important. Are you free?”

  “Right now? Of course I can’t take off like that.” He snapped his fingers. They were heavy with colorful rings. “I’m a very sought after man. My schedule is full for months.”

  I met his calculating stare. “Clear your schedule.”

  He sniffed, grinned again, and leaned back in that hideous chair. “Normally, I would kick you out for such rudeness but I’m curious.”

  I lifted an eyebrow before eyeing his lean form in one slow down-and-up movement. “You could try.”

  He laughed and there was an odd, forced seduction to it. I was sure it was another of those practiced things meant to make me fall at his feet. Instead, my hand tightened into a fist as I again fought the urge to hit him.

  He shifted in his chair, draped one long leg over the other and wiggled his bare toes. “Oh, I’m sure you’re stronger than I am. In fact, I’m sure you’re stronger than most people. Same for the big guy. But I can make you leave anytime I want.”

  Confused, I looked at Blythe who merely nodded. And it wasn’t my imagination that the room’s temperature was still falling rapidly. I could now see the breath of everyone in the room. Everyone except the Doob. “So show me.”

  He slowly stood and walked around the back of his chair.

  Fred moved to stand near him. “Beri, there’s a symbol carved into the floor behind this chair. Looks pagan.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course it would look pagan. Dooby was a being of magic—a necromancer. I really wasn’t worried about anything he conjured, raised or whatever it was he did. Dweller Demons would easily trump anything he pulled out of his ass. I smirked and made sure he saw. “Bring it on.”

  Dooby was so freaking flamboyant, I expected a show. Smoke, spooky music or maybe even fireworks. Instead, all he did was move the chair aside and prick his finger to let blood drop to the floor.

  Dooby watched me, frank appreciation in his gaze. He used his sexuality to play games. Maybe even the bait and switch kind to fool an audience. So I didn’t take my gaze off him to look at the symbol as he obviously wanted.

  Anger boiled low in my gut. People who used their looks to manipulate pissed me off. When Nikolos placed a hand on my back, I nearly jumped. I hadn’t even heard him stand up and come to my chair. I lifted my chin and met the gaze of a man who could have used his looks yet didn’t. I wasn’t sure why he felt the need to calm me but for some reason, it worked. I nodded slightly and turned back to the idiot necromancer.

  “We don’t have time for this crap—”

  A crash sounded near the front door.

  I jumped to my feet.

  Slow, shuffling sounds came from that direction. There was a soft grunt, and then a dead thing lurched around the corner. Long dead, from the looks of it. A man—maybe about five feet, ten inches tall, with threads of a black, burial suit embedded in what was left of his skin. Looked like it had been melted into him. He staggered into the room, bringing with him a wave of heat and a stale, foul smell—like the inside of an old refrigerator that had sat outside in the sun too long.

  He tripped on the step down, and hit his skull on the hard, marble floor. Harsh rumbles spilled from what was left of his throat as he pushed up on all fours.

  The bottom part of his jaw fell off and clattered across the tile floor, a cloud of dust following in its wake.

  I had already pulled my knife, but for the life of me, I had no idea where to stick it. Besides, this was nothing more than a power show. This thing couldn’t hurt any of us. It couldn’t even stay in one piece.

  “Now, now,” the necromancer soothed in a back-scraping, smarmy voice. “It won’t hurt you unless I tell it to.”

  I snorted. “Like it could. That’s the most pathetic zombie I’ve ever seen. Send it back, Doob.”

  “It’s Dooby, and I’ll send it back when I like.”

  I took a step toward him and made sure he saw my eyes go from the knife to his ponytail. I had a feeling his loved his hair. A lot. Couldn’t stab him—not when we needed him. Pissing him off would be fun, though.

  Blythe suddenly stood. “You haven’t changed at all. Always the showy magician, always the drama queen. Put that silly ghoul back—”

  “It’s not a ghoul, it’s a zombie,” Dooby muttered between clenched teeth. “I’ve told you that before.”

  “Whatever! Just put it back. It isn’t even a good one!” She stomped her foot, turning to me
. “He doesn’t need the money and he won’t care that a lot of people will die. He’s too selfish for such things. But you can easily get him to agree.”

  The zombie was just kind of hunched there. Pitiful really. I could feel Nikolos standing tense beside me—knew he watched the thing in case it did something more interesting, so I glared at Blythe. “I’m sure your methods were—uh—inspired, but I’m not into cradle robbing, Blythe.”

  “I’m twenty-two years old.” Dooby flicked his wrist and the zombie changed direction, crawled toward Blythe.

  She jumped up on the couch. “This is ridiculous. Just promise him fame, Beri. Let him take all the credit. He’ll follow us like the desperate puppy he is.”

  Wow. I blinked at Blythe before looking at Phro. Her smile said she remembered the earlier comparison between Blythe and puppies.

  Dooby moved toward Blythe with murder in his expression and the next thing I knew, Frida stepped in front of him, and held up his palms. I could actually see the glimmer of a tiny shield go up as it stopped him. Dooby’s eyes flared wide for an instant before he quickly shifted and turned. He tried to make it look like a natural movement, a choice of his own making.

  That was strange.

  He acted as if he couldn’t see Frida—yet as one who dealt in the magic of the dead, he should have been inclined to see all the guides.

  “That’s enough.” I pointed to his chair. “Sit your skinny ass down and listen to me. I promise you’ll receive full credit for summoning this thing. You’ll be the most famous necromancer in this world. We can pay any fee you ask. But you are going to help us. The one person who has ever meant anything to me is in danger of housing a kind of demon you’ve never seen—”

  He held up a hand. “Hate to break it to you, but there isn’t a demon I don’t know. I’ve been studying goetic magic since I started reading. I raised my first corpse before my parents brought me home from the hospital.”

  Nikolos stalked to the purple chair and looked down at the insolent, cocky asshole. “You have not seen this kind because the last time it walked the earth, there were no scribes to write its description down. It is not in the books—I too, have read them and more than once.”