Demon Child

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Demon Child Page 3

by Kat Cotton


  “Find him for me. Find the monster who did this.”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “Destroy him. Please, Clem. I’ve got no one else to turn to.” She reached over my desk and grabbed my hand. “People think I’m losing my mind. They want me to go to grief counseling or a shrink. But I’m not crazy. I know what I saw. You know it too. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. All I can do is think about that monster. I have nightmares about him, this gross creature, all hideous skin and demonic face, doing that to Cassie.”

  I tried to wrench my hand away without being too obvious about it. “I’m not sure…”

  “Please.”

  I picked up one of the bundles and flicked through the notes.

  “It’s the money I had saved for my wedding. This is more important, though.”

  Even though I loved money, it seemed wrong to take all Portia’s savings when she was so bereft. On the other hand, I knew her fiancé, and I’d be doing her a favor. He was a total butthole. He’d been a year ahead of us at school, and one time he’d cornered me behind the bike shed and flashed his cock at me. She’d so be better off not marrying a guy like that.

  “You could pay me by bank transfer,” I said. “It’s not safe to have all this cash.”

  She blinked like the idea hadn’t occurred to her.

  “You’ll take on the case?”

  It seemed I was destined to destroy the Demon Child no matter what. There was absolutely no reason why I couldn’t take this on. Paying client. Cold, hard cash. All the pieces fit.

  I nodded.

  With that, Portia picked up the cash and put it back in her bag.

  “Hey?”

  “Payment on delivery,” she said.

  I guess the Manchellis hadn’t made all their money by letting emotion get in the way of a business deal, but it did seem like she’d changed from grief-stricken to hardheaded very quickly.

  “Half now, half on completion of the job. Those are my usual terms.”

  She threw one of the bundles back on my desk. “A thousand now, the rest on completion. And I want daily status reports. Also, evidence of this monster’s defeat.”

  “He’ll be a pile of dust.”

  “Okay, I want the dust.”

  That seemed a bit macabre to me, but if that’s what she wanted, then she could have it and I’d have the cash.

  She sat back down.

  “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m putting a team together. There’s Professor Henty, who is the leading expert on this kind of thing…”

  I didn’t want to interrupt, but he so wasn’t. The leading expert would be me. Henty was some crackpot academic. I’d read his work and laughed. He’d never actually seen a demon in his life, he just researched them.

  “He’ll be heading the team.”

  “Whoa, hold up there a minute. Heading the team?”

  “We have experts from around the world joining us for this project.”

  Wow, she’d really turned from distressed to businesslike. And she used words I didn’t like. “Team,” for example.

  “So how do I fit into this ‘team’?”

  “Well, we need people on the ground. Henty and the other experts will put together a proposal—”

  I twisted the ring on my left hand. What the hell was she thinking? That kind of thing seemed like a total disaster. Who puts together a freakin’ proposal for hunting vampires? They’d be sitting in their office discussing this while the entire city came under attack.

  Portia kept talking, and I kept thinking about that pretty money in her bag. That money was lovely and all, but I would not spend my life in meetings, and I would not work with a bunch of fusty old academics.

  “I work alone,” I told her.

  “Of course you do.” She smiled. “But you don’t have to. Not now, not on this project.”

  Portia really didn’t understand.

  “I work alone because I prefer it that way. You think you have a crack team, but all you have is a crackpot team.”

  “Really, Clem, I don’t think you understand Professor Henty’s reputation.”

  I twisted my ring so hard, it pinched the skin on my finger.

  “I understand. Ask him how many demons he’s actually offed. Ask him how many he’s seen.”

  “The thing is, if you can’t work on the team, we can’t work with you.”

  It broke my heart to kiss that money goodbye, but teamwork and me was just not a thing.

  Chapter 5: Bar

  I’m not a social person, but sometimes a girl just needs a drink. It’d been a tough week, and to top it off, I’d come home to hear my housemate, Chris, bonking a girl in his room. Give me small talk with random strangers over his sex noises any day. Hopefully, a drink would wash the taste out of my mouth.

  Sam’s Bar down the street fit my mood. The carpet stuck to your feet, the clock on the wall permanently said it was 9:45, and half the lights had stopped working about a decade ago, the bulbs never replaced. Crappy and run-down and dark. Just like me.

  I sat at the bar, nursing a single beer because of budget cuts. I’d cut other stuff from my life too. Like Netflix. That’d been a killer. I hadn’t even eaten cake in a week.

  I’d made budget projections that counted on a major part of my income coming from the city. My pie chart had become a much smaller pie now. Like one of those mini pies that just give you an unsatisfying mouthful.

  Even though the mayor had said he didn’t want the incident covered up, I’d gotten in touch with my contact on the police force. We’d met for coffee.

  “The new mayor’s cut the budget. Cut it completely. Says there’s no point in any paranormal cover-up. Bring the vampires into the light, that kind of thing.” Mitch had shrugged. That shrug held a heavy weight of resignation and disapproval. It said he was just one cop, and the mayor was the mayor.

  That was pretty much what the mayor had told me, but I’d been hoping the cops still had some funds.

  “There’s no one in this city who’ll pay to have that vampire stopped, and he’s going to kill again.”

  No one but Portia Manchelli and her team of stupid stupidheads.

  “Not much I can do about that,” Mitch said. “I’ve just got to follow orders.”

  Fuck the mayor. Fuck him in his motherfucking blowhole. Everyone thought he was a wonderful guy, but he’d royally screwed up my life. I hated being poor more than anything. This frugality killed me inside. Soon I’d be as soulless as the creatures I hunted. His promises of future income meant nothing when I had no money right now.

  I toyed with the almost empty glass in my hand, wondering if I could stretch to another beer. The dregs had gone warm.

  Why would he want the underworld uncovered? It was called the underworld for a reason. People didn’t want to have that shit shoved in their faces. Even my clients, the kind of people who willingly sought out a demon hunter and paid good money for destroying that demon, kidded themselves. After I’d rid them of that pest, all the justifications and self-deception started. That’s why I asked for fifty percent upfront. It wasn’t really a demon, I’m sure it was just a trick of the light. All that baloney. So long as I got my money, I didn’t care what lies they told themselves if it helped them sleep at night. Did make it a killer for getting word-of-mouth business, though.

  My phone beeped. I picked it up, hoping it was work. Some plum job that’d bring in a ton of money. Then I’d order another beer. One of those fancy craft beers too.

  I didn’t recognize the number.

  We need to talk. What time can I see you tomorrow? Nic.

  I slammed my phone down on the counter.

  I’d never met the guy. Ever. But he thought he could send me a message signed just Nic and I’d know who he was. What a tool. The worst kind of tool. The most annoying thing was that I did know exactly who he was. And there was no way in hell I’d meet with him. Stupid motivational speaker vampire. I didn’t care how successful he was, I had no need to speak to him.


  I picked my phone back up, hoping I hadn’t broken it. The last thing I needed was to have to replace it. Budget cuts. Why would that guy want to talk to me anyway?

  “Hear about that massacre downtown?” the guy beside me said to his friend.

  I pricked up my ears. If it was about my work, then I needed to know what the average joe thought. These joes sitting beside me were as average as you got, too. The one talking wore a red plaid shirt with the fabric straining where it buttoned across his belly. His friend in the blue plaid shirt had his finger buried in his ear, digging around.

  “Terrible thing, that. People been saying it’s vampires.”

  Red shirt guy laughed. “People will say anything these days. Vampires! What next?”

  “Funny how they had their blood drained, though.” Blue Shirt pulled his finger out of his ear and rubbed the wax on his chest.

  “Yeah. More like it was a bunch of kids whacked out on pills or something. You know what kids are like nowadays. They’ll take all these drugs, then who knows what happens?” He took a swig of his drink and scratched his nuts. “Or it could be terrorists.”

  “You’re probably right. Mayor says there’s dangers lurking in the city that most of us aren’t aware of. Must be terrorists. He’s talking about a curfew.”

  I hadn’t heard that. A curfew. That could be a further hit to my income. Or not. I could slip through the shadows of the night undetected, and it’d be easier with no one else in the streets. Still, nothing like a curfew to get people’s defenses up. Nice work, Mayor.

  “Wouldn’t bother me. Might stop the boss from giving me overtime.” Red Shirt grunted and swilled his beer. “Anyway, if the mayor says it, it’s got to be good for the city. The mayor, he’s such a swell guy.”

  Was everyone in this city a fanboy of the mayor? At least Red Shirt got overtime, and at least he had beer. Some people didn’t know how good they had it.

  The bartender came over to them. “This about the curfew? That’s going to screw things up for business.”

  “Yeah, what do you think, Sam? People think it’s vampires.” Red shirt guy laughed again.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me. You see some weird things in this job. Vampires would be the least of it.” The bartender shook his head as he wiped down the bar.

  “You don’t really believe that?”

  “I’m not saying it’s true or not. Just saying it’s possible.”

  “Ha, better stock up on garlic,” said Red Shirt.

  “Yeah, and crosses,” Blue Shirt added.

  Garlic wouldn’t actually work unless you ate a ton of it. I didn’t want to speak up. These guys wouldn’t believe me anyway. They’d be safe, though, because they didn’t exactly look like appetizing vampire food. Too fatty and too tough. I didn’t know much about the dietary requirements of vampires, but I assumed they liked their food young and fresh.

  No one had conclusive proof about crosses or crucifixes or other religious symbols. Some experts thought it depended on the vamps’ religious beliefs before they turned. Some people thought it depended on the person holding them. I guess a hard-core Catholic school education isn’t eradicated that easily.

  I never mentioned any of this because it’d be a waste of my time.

  Since I couldn’t really afford another drink, I figured I might as well go home. Housemate Chris surely couldn’t last more than an hour or so. The chick should be gone by now and Chris curled up well away from the wet spot, snoring his head off.

  “Hey, girlie, watch out for vamps,” one of the men called as I left the bar.

  I shot him a grin. I was the one the vampires had nightmares about.

  Chapter 6: Attack

  Someone followed me. You didn’t last long in this business if you didn’t sense stuff like that. Trouble was, I couldn’t tell if it was demon or human. Normally, I can tell straight off. The hairs on the back of my neck stick up in a different direction, and the pounding in my belly has a different beat. If it was demon, I’d go full voltage on the sex thing, but human, you don’t want to do that.

  I wasn’t in the mood for this kind of shit. The main thing I wanted right now was to fall into my bed and into a coma-like sleep. If I was going to be attacked, that bastard attacker could at least try scheduling it for a better time. Being followed didn’t scare me. I could handle myself, and I itched for a fight. I hated the anticipation, though. If someone planned to jump me, they could be quick about it.

  People’s thrown-out crap littered the alleyway. Not just recent dumpings, either. Some of that stuff had been there for as long as I could remember. Old sofas with the springs sticking out, pieces of car bodies, boxes of books. It wasn’t the best spot for a fight because of that. It’d be pretty damn ironic if I fought off a demon but died of tetanus or some gross disease you picked up in a rat-infested alleyway.

  Yeah, I walked home down a dark back alley. Some people would say I deserved to get attacked for that, but hell, I wasn’t about to walk ten minutes out of my way when there was a handy shortcut home. I’d walked this alleyway a thousand times, and sure, I’d been jumped a few times. I think there were still marks on the ground from where I’d offed some demon a couple of years ago. He burned slow.

  Ahead, the glow of a streetlight marked where I’d be back in public view. I walked fast, hoping to get the well-lit public street before the beast jumped me. That way I could save my energy.

  A light drizzle started to fall and the wind whistled down the alley, so I zipped up my leather jacket and dug my hands into the pockets. The stake in my inside pocket pressed reassuringly against my boobs. My silver blade was in its usual spot, tucked into the waistband of my skirt. I fingered it through the fabric of my pocket. The stake would only cause minimal damage to a human predator, but the blade would be enough. Always prepared, like a damn demon-destroying boy scout.

  The footsteps behind me played around the edges of my hearing. Too loud for a demon, too soft for a human.

  If they were going to jump me, I wished they’d hurry. No need to stalk like a cat waiting to pounce. Just strike and get your butt kicked, then I could get home to bed.

  The footsteps crept closer, then a tin can rattled across the alleyway. Jeez, was it amateur hour?

  “Come and get me, then,” I said. I didn’t have all night.

  Something moved in the shadows. I spun around.

  Rat.

  Damn rat.

  Was that a yelp?

  It couldn’t be a demon lurking in the shadows. Demons weren’t scared of rats. Demons loved rats. Personally, I wasn’t so fond of them. I could fight demons, but rats freaked me the fuck out. Another reason to get out of this alley.

  The footsteps came closer.

  I prepared to fight. Fists up, legs wide.

  I swung.

  My fist connected with something, but that something was in the shadows and I couldn’t see a damn thing. He shuffled around, then I lost any sense of where he was.

  I froze. He’d do something to reveal himself, then I’d attack again.

  Too late.

  Arms clasped around me.

  He’d come at me from the opposite direction than I’d expected. How had he done that?

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I’d let myself get trapped.

  That close, I should’ve been able to determine if he was human or demon.

  The arms holding me like steel bars couldn’t be human. Too strong. Too impenetrable. No smell of sulfur. Nothing to mark him as a vamp or a demon or an incubus.

  Actually, he smelled like cake. Delicious cake.

  That threw me. I wanted cake. It’d been so long since I’d had high-quality sugar in my life. Damn attacker could’ve shared his cake with me if he was going to get this intimate.

  Regular human: that meant I could go into full warrior mode.

  I tried to pry his arms off me. Solid arms, like tree branches. They didn’t move easily. My teeth gritted. How stupid was I to let him get me like this?
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br />   That stake in my pocket, that would cause a world of damage even if this thing was human. If I could get to it. With my arms pinned, my inside pocket wasn’t easy to access. The knife in my waistband had become impossible. I should’ve slipped it out when I’d first heard him.

  Instead, I kicked back. My foot struck his shin. Hard. He flinched, but not enough to loosen his grip. I kicked again. Nothing. He was definitely not human. That kick would’ve floored him otherwise.

  In this position, any hope of using my sexual thrall was severely diminished. I couldn’t use my eyes and I couldn’t use my body. I could grind my hips against him, I guess, but without the eye contact, that just became creepy.

  Before I could kick again, he pulled me closer to his body. Metal studs pressed into my back; the strong arms tightened. The cake smell got stronger. Not just cake, but chocolate cake. Man, chocolate was the exact cake I needed right now.

  He taunted me with his chocolate cake breath. Bastard.

  I had to loosen his arms. This whole capture thing had gone on too long.

  I stomped and kicked.

  Then squirmed.

  I tried to grab at him.

  I could get out of this. I had to.

  I bit into his arm, sinking my teeth into his flesh.

  Nothing.

  He was as strong than any vamp I’d ever met. Stronger than a lot of demons too. But warm? His skin had been as warm as any human’s. And soft.

  I’d tried everything I could think of but couldn’t get free. Instead, I made my body relax. Conserving my strength for a second attempt made sense.

  Then his arm tightened and he began moving backwards. My feet scraped on the gravel. His chocolate cake breath panted on my neck.

  Where was he taking me?

  Not off to a chocolate-cake-eating party, I bet.

  This was a potentially bad situation, being dragged into the shadows by a beast I couldn’t identify. Since I couldn’t free myself from his arms, I let my body become a dead weight. Not much of a dead weight, since I was too tiny to have much impact like that, but his dragging technique totally sucked. He’d never drag me far like this. He was obviously an inexperienced dragger. I’d have flung me over my shoulder. That would’ve worked so much better.

 

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