Demon 04 - Deja Demon

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Demon 04 - Deja Demon Page 31

by Julie Kenner


  I hesitated, weighing my possible answers and deciding truth was probably the best option. “I don’t know,” I said.

  She nodded, then straightened her shoulders. “Well, you have to get up now. You’re a Demon Hunter, right? And you have a job to do.”

  “Do I? They’ll be gone now. The only reason Goramesh risked being near me despite the prophecy was so that they could have the joining ceremony. Why would he stay now?”

  “Well, he’s invincible now, right? Wasn’t that the point of joining?” Allie asked. “So if he’s invincible, why not stay?”

  The kid had a point.

  “Maybe the sword still works,” I said.

  “I thought it didn’t work,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, there is that. But I can’t believe the demons went to all this trouble to keep me from wielding this sword, only to find that it doesn’t really have any powers. There’s something else going on. Maybe the time of day when the sword has to be used. Maybe the blade has to be coated in blood. Something.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” she said. “I swear.”

  I pulled her forward and kissed her forehead. “I bet you will, too.”

  “Except who cares now?” she asked. “The prophecy said you’d kill Goramesh. But he’s not around to kill anymore.”

  “Maybe he is,” I said. “Maybe it still works now that he’s joined with Abaddon.”

  “Get Gora-don with the sword and kill them both?” Allie asked. “That would be cool.”

  “Gora-don?”

  “Well, what would you call them?”

  “Touché. But, yeah, that’s pretty much what I was getting at. But, again, why stay in San Diablo?”

  She sighed, shoulders sagging. “I guess you’re right,” she said, pushing off the bed. “If there’s even a chance you could take him out, he’s going to be long gone.”

  “Unless there’s some other reason for him to stay here.” What that reason could be, though, I didn’t know.

  “I’ll go get dressed for mass,” Allie said. “Want me to check on Tim—Oh. God, Mom. I’m sorry.”

  I managed a smile. “It’s okay, baby. They’ll both be back. Stuart just needs some time.”

  The bishop didn’t mention Father Ben once during mass, which wasn’t too surprising, as no one at the cathedral would have yet realized he’d gone missing. Even so, I said my own quiet prayers for him, and also for Stuart and Timmy, pleading with God to bring my family back together. To give me the chance to make it right.

  After mass, Allie raced upstairs, ready to hit the books. As for me, I’d barely had time to make a cup of coffee when the doorbell rang. I raced for it, almost careening into Allie in the living room. “Stuart,” I cried as I ripped the door open. A guess that, in retrospect, was ridiculous because he has a key and is perfectly capable of using it.

  “Not Stuart,” David said. He looked at me, long and hard. “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

  “Oh, God, Eric.” Seeing him brought everything back, and as I tugged him inside I felt the tears well up again.

  “Should I have stayed gone?” he asked, one arm pulling Allie close.

  “No,” she answered immediately, as I echoed the sentiment.

  “I came to talk to Stuart,” he confessed. “I get the impression it’s a little late for that.”

  “He’s gone,” I said, my voice not really cooperating. “He took Timmy with him.” I wiped away a tear, hating the fact that I kept losing it in front of my teenage daughter.

  Perceptive kid that she is, she looked between the two of us, then took a step back. “I was doing some research,” she said, hooking a thumb toward the upstairs. “I’m gonna get back to it, okay?” She pointed to David. “Don’t you dare leave without saying good-bye.”

  He promised, and she disappeared, taking some of the weight of parental responsibility with her.

  I led David into the kitchen, then passed him a cup of the coffee I’d just brewed. “I’m sorry about Stuart and Timmy,” he said.

  I cocked my head. “Are you really?”

  He shrugged. “About Timmy, yes. About Stuart . . . Honestly, I’m tempted to try to move in on his territory. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’m fighting the urge to tell you it’s for the best.”

  “Keep fighting,” I said dryly. “That’s not what I need to hear. Not today.”

  “I am sorry about what this is doing to you.”

  “Ripping me apart? Yeah, that part pretty much sucks.” I drew in a breath, regarding him. “Do you really? Think it’s for the best, I mean?”

  To Eric’s credit, he seemed to genuinely consider the question. “All I know,” he finally said, “is that you’re my wife. Everything else is white noise.”

  I waited a moment, letting his words wash over me. Then I held out my hand. He took it, and we stood there, lost in the past with the present a blur and the future a mystery.

  “Kate,” Eric said, his voice husky. “I’m sorry.”

  I looked at him, instinctively knowing this was an apology, not a condolence. “About what?”

  “This,” he said. “I promised I wouldn’t do this.” He pulled me close then, holding me tight even as his mouth took mine, so gentle and yet so firm.

  I dissolved into the kiss, my head telling me to push him away and my heart craving everything that Eric had to offer. I lost myself in it, finally coming back to my senses and pushing him gently away.

  “You said you wouldn’t,” I accused.

  “What can I say? I’m human. I’m flawed.”

  “Eric . . .”

  “He walked out on you, Kate. I want you to think about that. He walked out on you.” He tilted my chin up so that I had no choice but to look at him. “I never left you willingly, never stayed away. And I’ve done everything in my power and more to come back to you. Think about that these nights when your bed is empty.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to block out his words, not wanting the emotional maelstrom right now. Not at all sure I could handle it.

  My rescue came in the form of the shrill ring of the telephone. I grabbed it up, then heard Father Corletti’s soft voice on the other line.

  “Father,” I said, my voice carrying the depth of my grief.

  “I know, child,” he said. “And I mourn with you. But I do not call now in remembrance of our friend and colleague. Something has happened.”

  I crooked a finger, urging David to come over and listen with me as Father Corletti continued.

  “The unthinkable has happened,” he began. “The Lazarus Bones have been stolen.”

  Twenty-two

  "So what does this mean for us?” Laura asked, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder even as she slipped a steaming cup of hot cocoa in front of me. I smiled up at her, grateful. I’d run her through the hell that was my life, and in true best friend mode, she’d turned the coddling up full blast.

  Father Corletti hadn’t been able to give us much information, but he did tell us that the mark of Abaddon was found in the vault that held the bones. And the priest who guarded the vaults uttered a single word—Decimator—before slipping into a coma.

  The High Demon Goramesh was known throughout heaven and hell as the Decimator.

  “For one thing,” Eddie said, “it means there’s some damned unsavory sorts in Forza.” He looked at me. “And don’t go sticking up for them,” he said. “I’m not saying every last one of them’s corrupt. But you know damn good and well that no one—not even some invincible mongo-all-in-one-super-dude demon—was getting into the Vatican vaults and pulling out the Lazarus Bones. Not without some inside help.”

  I didn’t argue, primarily because he was right.

  “How they got the bones isn’t the issue,” David said. “The question is, what do we do now?”

  “Assuming there’s even something for us to do,” I said. “Unless Gora-don is coming back to San Diablo, it’s not really our problem.”

  “We can make it our prob
lem,” he said. “Head after him. Chase him down and destroy the bastard before he does any more harm in the world. I think Ben deserves that, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” I said, starting to feel a bit battered. “But I can’t pack up and gallivant around the globe. I have a home here. A family. Roots.”

  “Still?” he asked, as Laura, Allie, and Eddie turned sharply to gape at him.

  I wanted to lash back at him, to reach out and slap this man I truly did love with all my heart. He’d crossed the line just now. Because he wasn’t the only man I loved, and he damn well knew it.

  “Kate,” Laura said, apparently reading me right. She made a motion with her hand, the kind of gesture moms use to remind their toddlers to sit down and be good.

  I sat, scowling and wondering if I’d get a cookie for behaving.

  “Daddy’s right,” Allie said. “It wouldn’t have to be like we’re leaving for good. But if we have a lead, shouldn’t we follow it? For Father Ben?” she added, with a catch in her voice.

  “Oh, baby,” I said, melting a little bit. “Believe me, I want to nail them to the wall as much as you do. But it’s a moot point, isn’t it? We don’t have a lead. We don’t have anything. ”

  “So we patrol tonight,” David said. “Might not find anything. But if we run across a demon, we may also run across some buzz about where the Big Bad has gone.”

  “Can I come?” Allie asked, looking between me and David before putting her hands together as if in prayer. “Please? I’ll be good. I’ll be careful.”

  I caught David’s eye, saw that his face was passive, regretful. This was my decision, I knew; David wasn’t going to countermand me again.

  “Yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath. “You can come.”

  “Yes!” She gave a little whoop and started dancing around the kitchen, and despite myself, I had to smile.

  “Do you really think you’ll learn anything?” Laura asked. “I mean, why come back here? There’s a whole big world of cemeteries out there. Lots of potential bodies to raise.”

  “But there must be a reason to come here,” Allie said. “This is where they came in the first place.”

  “But that’s because the Lazarus Bones were hidden here,” I said.

  “Then why didn’t he just take the bones and leave?” she asked. “Why hang out here to try to raise the dead? I mean, by that time you were pretty on to Goramesh. He knew it was going to be a battle. Why not take the easy way out?”

  Why not indeed?

  “Kid’s got a good point,” Eddie said. “Is there something about San Diablo that makes it a better place for raising the undead?”

  “I don’t know why it would be,” I said. “But with this town,” I had to admit, “anything is possible.”

  "The more I think about it, the more I think Allie’s right,” I said, later that evening as we walked along the boardwalk.

  “Yay, me!” she said, keeping up the pace between me and David. “What am I right about?”

  “That Goramesh tried to use the Lazarus Bones here for a reason. And that means that Gora-don will be back, too.”

  “What reason?” David asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But think about it. Goramesh made a big deal out of raising an army of the dead. But it’s not like we had barrels full of the Lazarus Bones. How many bodies can one little bag animate?”

  “How much did it take you to raise me?”

  “Not much,” I admitted. I frowned. “Maybe that’s it. He was planning on raising as many corpses as he could until the dust ran out. But I don’t think so. I think there’s something about our cemetery that lets the bones work exponentially. ”

  “Like a spider web,” Allie said. “One body connects to another and to another until all the dead bodies rise and do their zombie thing.”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “But we can’t prove it,” Allie said. “It’s not like we have any of the dust left.”

  “And we were in the cemetery when you raised me,” David said. “Nobody else came back to life.”

  “True. But you weren’t buried.”

  We all looked at each other and shrugged. It was a good theory—as sci-fi television plotlines go—but hard to prove out in practice.

  “So do we post a sentry at the cemetery?” Allie said. “Regular patrols?”

  “We’ll have to beef up patrols,” I said. “But it won’t be difficult for them to simply pick a time when we’re not around. We leave, Gora-don comes, and a few hours later— poof!—an army of the undead.”

  “Yuck,” Allie said. “I’m not sure I’m really liking that scenario.”

  “Me, neither,” I admitted.

  “We don’t even know if it is the scenario,” David said. “And the truth is that we’re not going find the answer tonight. For that matter, I’m not sure we’re going to find anything out tonight. As far as I can tell, the Elvis demons have left the building.”

  He grinned down at Allie, who rolled her eyes. “Dad-dy.”

  “Couldn’t resist,” he said. He moved between us and swung an arm around her shoulder. “Shall we call it a night? Say we’re officially off duty?”

  “Might as well,” I said.

  “Good.” He took my hand. “In that case, you can relax your stance, Hunter.”

  He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, feeling warm and safe and loved. And the truth was, I desperately wanted what he was offering me. A closeness. A togetherness.

  A family.

  The only problem was, we three weren’t my family. Not anymore.

  And as soon as I got home and into bed, I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried. I loved Eric desperately, but I missed Timmy. I missed Stuart.

  So help me, I missed my life.

  Saturday morning I decided to start the process to canonize Laura. I’m not entirely sure a non-Catholic could become a saint, but I intended to do everything in my power to raise her to that lofty order. After all, as I looked around our neighborhood park, filled with moonwalks, food tables, a petting zoo, and lots of game booths for the kids, I knew the true measure of friendship—taking on a horrible committee-head role when your best friend is so preoccupied by demons and husbands that she becomes more or less dysfunctional in the domestic world.

  Not that I was all that in the domestic world before the husband and demon woes, but it was nice to know Laura had my back.

  “Not a bad party, huh?” Laura said, passing me one of the ice cream sandwiches the committee had pulled together in my kitchen.

  “It’s really amazing what I can accomplish when I put my mind to it,” I said.

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  I looked up, and my heart did a little flipping number as I saw Timmy skipping and running toward me. I scooped him up, swinging him around and around as he squealed and giggled. “Hey, Big Guy! You having fun hanging with Daddy?”

  “No monkey,” he said, with a pout, a comment that didn’t make much sense until I realized that Stuart must have moved into a corporate apartment without cable. My poor guys, roughing it like that.

  Speaking of my poor guys, the elder of the two came forward clad all in gray. Fluffy gray, that is, with ears and a cotton tail.

  I pressed my hand over my mouth and made a concerted effort not to let my laughter show in my eyes.

  “If the opposition gets a picture of you in that,” I said seriously, “the election is all over.”

  “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

  I cocked my head, looking at him. “Seriously, thanks for doing this. The kids would be really disappointed without an Easter Bunny.”

  “Not a problem,” he said. He cleared his throat. “So. Any more demons? Are you still, what? On active duty?”

  “Nothing much is happening,” I admitted. “But I’m keeping my eyes open.” I hesitated, not sure this was the time or the place. “I’m not going to stop, Stuart. You understand that, right? It’s important, what I do. You saw what we’re up against.
It’s an ongoing battle, and I’m on the front lines.”

  “I know,” he said. “And believe it or not, I respect that. I’m even pretty damn impressed, even if I may not look it,” he said, indicating his bunny suit. “You’re doing an amazing thing. Unbelievable, but amazing.”

  “Thanks,” I said, more moved by his words than I would have expected. “So, um, anything new with you?”

  He laughed, a genuine laugh that brought a smile to my lips.

  “What?” I asked.

  "It’s only been a little more than twenty-four hours, Kate.”

  “Oh. Well, it feels like more.”

  “Yeah? I think I’m glad to hear that,” he said, so intently that even though he was wearing a bunny suit, I felt my face heat with a blush.

  “Actually, something has changed,” he said, as I set Timmy down to go chase Elena, who was waving at him like a wild thing.

  “Really? What?”

  “Found out more about the house.”

  “The mansion, you mean? What happened?”

  “Turns out Theophilus Monroe actually lived there for a while,” he said, referring to the famous descendant of the town’s founder.

  “He lived there?” I asked, my ears pricking up because Theophilus was famous for both his family tree and his obsession with the black arts. “In the Greatwater mansion?”

  “Apparently he dated one of the Greatwater daughters back around nineteen twenty-four. He even designed the whole back balcony. Apparently it’s an add-on after the original was cracked in an earthquake.” He grinned like a man who’s won the lottery. “With that kind of notoriety, though, the house has a unique appeal. Bernie and I both think it will be snatched up the second we put it on the market.”

  My heart started beating faster as I considered what all this could mean. “Did he design that spiral staircase?”

  “Down to the cemetery? I don’t know,” Stuart said, his brow furrowing. “Probably. It fits the stories about Theophilus. Thumbing his nose at his family’s piety.”

  “The family funded most of the original renovations on the cathedral, didn’t they?” Originally part of the mission trail, the cathedral had undergone a series of renovations over the years, the most current of which was ongoing.

 

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