Demon 04 - Deja Demon

by Julie Kenner

  “Good call,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

  “It’s been a hell of a week for you, hasn’t it?”

  “The roughest in memory,” I admitted.

  “In that case, I think we should uncork a bottle of merlot. We deserve it.” She looked at the tabletop littered with confetti, tissue, and hollowed-out eggshells. “We definitely deserve it.”

  She got up and grabbed a bottle from our wine rack. “I’ll uncork it, since you’re at a disadvantage with your grievous injury.”

  “Actually, it’s kind of handy,” I admitted, waggling the splinted finger. “I could imbed a small knife in there and it could be part of my standard patrol kit. Maybe even fix a hose with a bottle of water strapped under my arm. Squeeze my armpit and squirt holy water on my victim.”

  From there, we elaborated on practical demon-hunting gear. Water balloons filled with holy water. Stilettos hidden in Victoria’s Secret underwires. The possibilities were endless.

  By the time Stuart came home we’d filled four dozen egg cartons and discussed everything from the impending demise of San Diablo to how the fashionable Demon Hunter dresses for success.

  I looked up, smiling at my husband, and realizing that my mood was better than it had been in days.

  “You look chipper.”

  “Hanging out with my best friend and my little boy,” I said. “What’s not to love?”

  As Laura said good-bye and headed out, Timmy ran in and gave his Daddy a hug, decked out only in his underpants. Stuart swung him around, then clutched him tight, these two men who shared the bond of family. Of blood.

  I smiled, still feeling a little sappy and sentimental.

  “Shouldn’t he be dressed by now?” Stuart asked, bursting my bubble of sentimentality. “For that matter, shouldn’t you?”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “Mass,” he said. He tapped his watch. “In less than thirty minutes. It’s already past five.” I looked up and realized how dark the sky was getting.

  “Today? But it’s Wednesday.”

  “It’s Thursday, Kate. Holy Thursday.”

  Even as he spoke the words, I realized. When the sanctified blood has flowed.

  Christ. The eve of the crucifixion.

  Today.

  Whatever the demons had planned, it was happening at nightfall today.

  I shoved back my chair, toppling it over. “Oh, God, Stuart. I’m so sorry. I can’t stay. I have to hurry. I have to go.”

  “Dammit, David! Pick up the phone!” I raced through the San Diablo streets, my cell phone clutched to my ear. “Dammit, where could he be?” I drew in a breath. “I’m on my way. I’ve already left a message on your cell. Put Allie in a taxi. Wait for me outside. I’ll explain when I get there.”

  I hoped he got the message, because I needed his help.

  Prophecy or not, I wasn’t keen on facing either Goramesh or Abaddon. Worse, I still didn’t know where to go.

  I called Laura and filled her in.

  “Good God,” she said, “what did Stuart say?”

  Stuart had gaped at me, particularly when I’d raced up to Allie’s room and come down with a sword and some bullshit story about how I had to return it to the museum as part of some committee program I’d forgotten about. Now, however, wasn’t the time to relay all that to Laura.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said. “Right now, I have to figure out where to go. In the shadow of the Lord. That’s what the gypsy lady said. Can you see what you can figure out? If I’m right, whatever’s going down is happening at sunset.”

  “I’m on it,” she said, then clicked off.

  My phone beeped, signaling an incoming voice mail. I pressed the button, put the phone on speaker, and listened as I whipped the car through a red light and stomped on the gas.

  “Got your message,” David said. “Taxi’s on the way, and I’ll wait for you on the front step.”

  Good.

  One less logistical nightmare to worry about. Now all I had to do was figure out where to go once David piled into the car.

  I had to wait at a light before I could turn onto David’s street, and I kept one foot on the brake and one on the gas, revving the engine impatiently until traffic slowed and I could jump the light, almost getting sideswiped in the process.

  I whipped into a no-parking zone even as Allie and David were climbing down the steps. Sure enough, a taxi was waiting, and I opened my door, planning to jump out of the car to hug my daughter and hurry David along.

  I watched as David brushed her hair out of her eyes, and even from here, I could see the love on his face, along with a sadness that could only stem from the years he’d missed watching her grow up. She leaned in, taking the duffel he passed to her and then planting an affectionate kiss on his cheek.

  That’s when all hell broke loose. And I don’t mean the demonic kind.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you son of a bitch?” a familiar voice screamed. And then—as my fuzzy brain processed reality—Stuart burst out of the Infiniti and raced forward. I could see Timmy strapped in his car seat in the back, watching the spectacle as his daddy rushed forward and landed such a solid punch to David’s jaw that he knocked him backwards.

  I sprinted from the car, even as Allie bent down, grabbing Stuart’s arms from behind before he could launch himself at David, who was back on his feet, his face a mask of pure rage.

  “Calm down, calm down,” I said, grabbing David before he could pummel my husband. “Think about how it looked from Stuart’s perspective.”

  “Kate?” Stuart looked at me with total disbelief. “What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

  “Trust me. It’s not what you think.”

  “Not what I think? I think I saw the high school chemistry teacher behaving inappropriately with a minor. That’s what I think.” He shook Allie off him, then put his arm protectively around her, stepping in front of her as if afraid David were going to reach out, grab her, and run like hell.

  I kept a tight hold on David’s arms, fearing he’d turn Stuart into a replica of Dukkar. At the same time, I couldn’t seem to stop moving. The sun was rapidly descending, and we needed to get moving if we had any chance of stopping Abaddon. I might not know exactly what he was up to, but I knew it had to be bad.

  “Please. Stuart, you deserve the full explanation. And I’m going to give it to you. I swear. But the sun is about to set, and we really have to go.”

  “You’re leaving? With him?”

  “Not now. Stuart. Please. Take Allie home and we’ll talk about it later.”

  “Kate—”

  “Dammit, Stuart. Do you trust me or not?”

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Then he turned and steered Allie by the elbow to his car. “This isn’t over,” he said, not to me but to David.

  “I know,” David said. “Believe me, I know.”

  "The Key is augment,” David said as I pulled out of his neighborhood and got back on PCH. “Allie figured it out right before you called. One shall augment the other and the prophecy shall be no more,” he quoted.

  “Not understanding it any more than I did the first time,” I admitted.

  “The first time, we only knew about Abaddon,” David explained. “Now that we know Goramesh is poking around here, too, it started to make sense.”

  “Augment,” I said. “They’re making each other better?”

  “Joining together,” he said. “At least, that’s our best guess.” I took my eyes off the road long enough to look incredulously at him. “They can do that?”

  “Apparently. Allie found some references in an ancient text,” he added, his voice full of paternal pride.

  “But, why? What’s the point?”

  "Didn’t get that far,” he admitted. “You called, and here we are.”

  “Right,” I said grimly. “But where do we need to be?”

  “That’s the big question,” he said. “Could be anywhere.”


  My cell phone rang, and David reached down, pushing the button to answer in speaker mode.

  “No luck,” Laura said. “I’m not finding anything. All I can figure is that with all the religious references, whatever’s going to happen will happen near a church.”

  “In the shadow of the Lord,” David said.

  “We go to the cathedral, then.”

  “It’s not the only church in town,” Laura said.

  “No,” I agreed. “But it is the oldest. And we know it’s been the focal point of demon activity before.”

  Since no one else had a better idea, that’s where I headed. Laura promised to keep looking, and David clicked off as I kept my hands firmly on the wheel and drove like a maniac.

  “Will Allie be okay?” David asked. “With Stuart, I mean.”

  I shot him a sideways glance. “She’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ve got some serious explaining to do, though. Things I should have said a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I never meant for—”

  “Not now,” I said, more sharply than I intended. I took a breath, softening. “I can’t worry about it right now. Not if we’re going to figure this out. Not if we’re going to stop these demons from joining—or whatever the hell they’re doing.”

  Perched on the top of one of San Diablo’s cliffs, the cathedral was reached by climbing a narrow, winding road that the city was forever promising to widen. I took it at a dangerous pace, the engine in the rental straining as I gunned it around a slow-moving truck and David held on tight.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” he said. “Just get us there.”

  I floored it, and we raced the rest of the way up the hill. The parking lot was full—parishioners attending mass on Holy Thursday—so I swung into a handicapped spot and we both jumped out of the car.

  “Where?” I said, reaching back in for the Sword of Caelum. I wasn’t exactly going to blend in at the church, but at the moment, subtlety wasn’t my priority.

  “Check the church,” David ordered. “I’ll look around the grounds.”

  I peered inside, but mass seemed to be progressing as mass always did. The bishop was reading his homily, and I shut the door quietly before anyone could notice me.

  I met David back outside. “No luck,” he said, and I relayed the same message.

  “It wouldn’t be in the church anyway,” I said. “Unless part of the ritual requires the demon to suffer.” A demon can’t walk on holy ground, not without suffering intense, unbearable pain. But though that might rule out a church as the ritual location, that also meant we had no good ideas left.

  “Near the church, though,” David said. “That has to be what the ’in the shadow of’ language means.”

  I tended to agree. Right then, though, there were no shadows. The sun had already set, and the day had been overcast anyway.

  “That’s west,” I said. “Which means if this is happening at sunset”—I shot him a grim look, as we were at least ten minutes past that marker—“then the shadows would be falling to the east.”

  We both turned, looking past the parking lot at the tree-tops, visible as the hill curved down.

  “The park,” I said, flashing on my conversation with the bishop on Sunday.

  “What park?” he asked, following me because I was already heading in that direction, the sword tight in my hands.

  “There’s a clearing down there,” I explained, my voice low in case anyone was listening to our approach. “An old park where some of the kids play after church. But it doesn’t belong to the church. There’s nothing holy about the ground.”

  “Sounds promising,” he said, reaching out to grab a tree root for balance.

  “We have to be right,” I said. “The bishop told me it’s an archaeological site now. Apparently some animal remains were found, and the initial hypothesis is that the animals were used in rituals.”

  “A sacrifice to the demon,” David said.

  “Might tie in to the ‘sanctified blood’ part of the gypsy’s message.”

  “It better,” David said grimly. “We’re out of time.”

  The path curved sharply and bent down the hill, and we tried to move quietly and quickly, hoping not to advertise our approach. Didn’t matter. Because when we finally burst through the clearing it was clear that there were no demons present.

  Instead, we saw Father Ben, nailed to a portion of the wooden playscape with his arms spread wide and blood dripping from his hands, his feet, and the multiple stab wounds in his chest.

  Twenty-one

  "Ben!” I rushed forward, David at my side, desperate to get him down.

  “Kate.” His voice was low, singsong. “They are still . . . here.”

  “Hold on, Father,” I said. “I’m going to get you off this.” He’d been crucified, nails through the wrists and ankles. Giant, railroad-style nails that were now embedded deep and refusing to budge.

  “Dammit!” I cried, my eyes swimming as I tried to pry one up using the blade of the sword and David worked on another with a much smaller knife.

  “Too . . . late,” Ben said. “The joining. Will make them stronger. Invincible. That is . . .” He swallowed, his eyes rolling up into his head as he fought for strength.

  No, no, no!

  “Stick with me, Father. We’ll get you down. You’ll be okay.” I said the words, but I didn’t believe them. Not really. The life was slipping from him, and I was hollow inside.

  “The reason,” he said. “The joining. Don’t let it happen. Would be . . . the beginning . . . of the . . . end.”

  His head lolled forward, and I clapped my hand over my mouth, looking frantically at David, even though there was nothing he could do, anymore than I could.

  Ben was dead, and the demons who’d done this to him were nowhere to be found.

  “David—” I stumbled over my words, unable to get my head around the situation. I’d lost friends before, but this was different. This was now. And so far, I’d managed to keep my corner of the world safe. The demons had moved in, but I’d always gotten there in the nick of time.

  I looked at David through tear-filled eyes and realized that wasn’t entirely true. The demons had won with David, killing him in a cemetery mere miles from here. He was only standing with me because I hadn’t played by the rules.

  Today, though, there was nothing I could do.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”

  “We’ll avenge him,” David said, picking up a rock and hurling it. It crashed through the thick brush in front of us at the same time a sharp scream rang out behind us.

  “Nooooooooo.”

  I turned to find Allie racing toward me, Stuart at her heels with Timmy on his hip.

  “My God, Kate,” Stuart said, even as the ground beneath Ben started to shake, the blood-soaked earth bubbling and rising.

  I looked at David. This wasn’t over. In fact, it was just beginning.

  “Get out of here,” I shouted to Stuart. “Do you want to get killed?”

  “Monster!” Timmy screamed as a scaly, clawed hand shot out of the blood-soaked muck. I lashed around, leading with the sword, but it was no use. The demon shot out of the ground at superhuman speed, then crouched at the top of the playscape, scales cracking and wings trembling with delight as it looked down at Father Ben.

  “Just like your little friend Cami,” the demon said, its voice low and croaky. “How I have longed for this day. For my revenge.”

  “Abaddon,” I said, holding the sword at the ready and moving slowly toward my daughter.

  The demon hissed, then smiled, its parched skin cracking with the effort.

  “Allie,” I said, my voice low and urgent. “Get out of here. Get you and Stuart and Timmy out of here right now, or I swear you’re grounded for life.”

  “Kate,” Stuart said, his voice shaky with fear. “What the fu—”

  “Now,” I screamed. “Do you want to die? Do you want Timmy t
o die? Get out of here now!”

  “Come on, come on,” Allie said, ushering them up the hill as the demon cackled.

  “Don’t even think about it,” David said. “Your battle is with us.”

  “Battle?” Abaddon said. “You mean massacre.” He turned to sneer at David. “I have waited a long time for my revenge. You brought cardinal fire into my lair and thrust me back into hell. Eviscerated my followers. Destroyed my plans. I have much to avenge.”

  “Good luck with that,” David said, his voice hard.

  “You burned in the fire, too, did you not?” the demon continued. “Burned, burned, even as your walls came tumbling down. So dangerous,” he sneered, “for children to play with fire.”

  As if to illustrate the point, the blood-soaked soil burst into flame, then burped forth another demon, this one to land naked on two feet in front of me, his scaly body an amalgamation of goat and man, his arms webbed as if to form wings.

  A long, thin claw reached out to me. “You,” he said. “You foiled my army once. You will not defeat me again.”

  “Goramesh,” I said, the word as heavy on my lips as the sword in my hand. I lashed out, aiming to drive the blade through the bastard’s heart, but getting him only in the gut. Shouldn’t matter, though. I had the sword, and this was all over.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” I sneered. “Or didn’t you hear the prophecy?”

  He crumpled to the ground, wings covering his back like an injured insect.

  “I think I like this sword,” I said, to nobody in particular. “Your turn,” I said then to Abaddon as David and I moved in tandem to attack the demon.

  “No,” he said, wings stretched wide as he soared into the sky. “I don’t think so.”

  A rumble sounded behind us and I turned to find Goramesh rising, his cackling laughter echoing through the trees and filling the night sky with cawing crows.

  I stared, dumbfounded, my hand clenched tight around the apparently useless Sword of Caelum.

  “Fool,” the demon hissed, then rose into the air. The two demons circled each other, and then, as David and I watched helplessly, they each nose-dived toward the playscape, colliding with and being sucked into the body of Father Ben.