Private Dicks

by Samantha M. Derr

  "But how can I be a demon? How is one created?"

  "The same as any other creature I suspect." Sebastian sounded on the verge of laughter. "When a man and woman love each other very much—"

  "I know where children come from!" Quinn retorted, his cheeks hot.

  Sebastian laughed, before stating matter-of-factly, "I bet you were adopted."

  "My mother found me on the stoop one day. But it was the stoop of a church!" That had to prove something. And he had gone to the church for his schooling; he could not be any part of a demon. Quinn had learned that demons could not stand the power of religion. But then again, he had also met a bishop that was more like a demon than anyone he had ever met.

  "Church propaganda states that creatures of darkness cannot darken the doorway of a church. Personally, I've always found a sermon or two soothing."

  Quinn's eyes widened. "Are you a demon as well?"

  "Not exactly. But this is not about me. The reason you are constantly in pain is because you keep shoving the demon away."

  "Demons cause destruction, do they not?" It seemed like an easy decision. "It seems like it would be smarter to fight the demon."

  "Have you always denied yourself with such veracity? Perhaps if you accepted what you are, you could protect the ones you love, rather than become a burden." At Quinn's stricken look, Sebastian sighed. "A demon is not inherently evil. I have seen demons that can be as good as humans. I have seen humans evil enough to be considered demons. You must decide who you wish to be." He paused as if listening for something. "And you will have to decide quickly if you plan to stop your killer." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch.

  While he was distracted, Quinn considered his words. When he thought about being a burden to everyone, he winced, but it was true—Oz had gotten hurt because Quinn had told him that he was afraid. As a result, Oz had tried to protect him. His father kept trying to protect him, as well; did he know about Quinn being a demon? And Francis, he had said as much when Quinn had run into him.

  He could not change the fact that he was a demon, but if he stopped pushing it away … "Why is it happening now? Why not before?"

  "Because your demon is responding to another demon in the vicinity."

  "The day I first came here, I heard someone cry out to me. They told me to turn back. Do you think—"

  "You heard them?" Sebastian asked. His frown deepened, "That was not the demon. Those voices were those of the demon's victims." He tilted his head to the side. "I wonder why they chose to warn you?"

  "The demon is in this house, then." Quinn thought it over. The demon could be anybody really; the church taught that demons could hide anywhere at any time—that was why a good man had to be on his guard. But Sebastian had just challenged him that the church was wrong. Then it clicked. "Lady Covington?"

  It didn't make any sense at first, but when he thought about it, Lady Covington as the demon fit. After all, she would be the last person one would believe to be a demon—she was sweet, kind, and ultimately powerless. But was she truly powerless? Everyone had heard the stories of how, after Lord Covington's death, Lady Covington had resisted all marriage offers and taken over her husband's business; how all those who had spoken against her had either changed their tune or fallen. To be honest, the Lady Covington of rumor was rather vicious, regardless of how harmless she seemed in person. "But why?"

  "Perhaps you had best hear that from her." With one final look at his clock, Sebastian closed it with an audible click. "It is time for us to go."

  "Go?"

  "Yes. I do so hate being late." Sebastian led the way, while Quinn followed behind him, confused. There was a loud screech from upstairs that sent shivers down his spine, and Quinn glanced around warily.

  "Where is everyone?" He had noticed it when he first arrived: the estate seemed empty, but for whatever was upstairs and Sebastian.

  "I dismissed them for the day." Sebastian looked back and chuckled at Quinn's baffled look. "It was not yet their time. "What was Sebastian talking about, and what was with the strange watch? Quinn had the horrifying feeling that he was about to find out. "Where are we going?" Quinn asked, as they approached the steps.

  "To talk to Lady Covington of course."

  "Of course?" Of course. Like Quinn should have known that. "Lady Covington is the demon that is killing people, but we are going to walk up there and have a conversation with her?" It was beyond absurd.

  "Is that not suitably dramatic for you?" Sebastian paused and turned back to face him. "Would you prefer we grab our swords, so that as we pull the weapon from the scabbard, she swoops in to kill us?"

  Quinn frowned. "There's no need to make fun of me."

  Sebastian rolled his eyes. "A weapon will do you no good—her demon has grown far too powerful."

  "Then why do you want me there?" Sebastian had just implied that Quinn was basically powerless. Wanting desperately to help would not make Quinn any less of a nuisance if something went wrong.

  "Perhaps as a shield." He laughed at Quinn's offended look and leaned down to drop a kiss on his forehead. "There are some things, Quinton, that you need to hear and understand for yourself before you choose your path. You need to see how easy it is to fall into darkness."

  "What are you supposed to be?" Quinn asked crossly. "My conscious?" But he was curious to see what Sebastian meant. Had Lady Covington been born a demon, then?

  "She was not born a demon like you were, but became one. There is no difference really. Morality can always become warped by power. But enough talking; there is not enough time." Quinn followed quietly behind him.

  Off to battle with naught a weapon in sight. It felt as if he was asking for death. But then he thought of Oz, who had gone into this fight for his sake. He had not known Lawrence, and while his heart had bled for the two men that had died before him, Oz would have never have become involved in this were it not for Quinn. He owed it to Oz to find the person behind it.

  And if it meant vengeance, Oz would never have to know.

  When they reached the top of the steps, Quinn could smell it: brimstone and rosemary, an off-putting combination. The pang in his chest began again, but instead of pushing it away, Oz tried to let it be. Unlike Sebastian had claimed, however, it was no less painful; he could feel it stretch tentatively through his body. Sebastian was right about one thing, though: it didn't feel evil. In fact, it felt warm, and for a moment, Quinn was reminded of Oz. What had Sebastian called him? An angel.

  It suited Oz and made Quinn smile as he let the warmth spread through him. When he opened his eyes, Sebastian stared at him with an inscrutable expression on his face. "Done communing with the house?"

  Quinn nearly told him what had happened, but then chose not to; chances were that Sebastian already knew. Instead, he nodded, and they started toward the room furthest down the hall. The closer they got, the stronger the scent became. When they passed the first door, Quinn heard a screech, the same as before.

  The sounds made his fingers clench into the banister as he paused. "What is that?"

  Sebastian paused as well, but did not turn. "Lady Covington has been fighting the demon for years. She has weakened, though; the demon will soon win."

  "What will the demon win?" Quinn was afraid that he already knew the answer to that question, for what else would a demon desire?

  "Her soul."

  Quinn chose not to speak after that, instead following Sebastian sedately down the hallway, the sound of Sebastian's clock and their footsteps echoing as they went. It seemed that all too quickly, they were standing in front of the door. Sebastian pushed it open and Lady Covington turned, her mouth open in surprise. "Sebastian! What are you doing here? It cannot be time, yet." The desperation in her tone saddened Quinn, for it confirmed Sebastian's words.

  Lady Convington looked beyond Sebastian and saw Quinn. "Quinton? What are you doing here?" She looked between the two of them, confused.

  "I have not brought you food." Sebastia
n clarified, and Quinn wondered if he had done that for her in the past. "I have told you before that I am not a personal dining service."

  Lady Covington pouted for a moment. "Then why have you brought him?"

  "When I first came to you, you asked me for twenty years; I granted your wish. But your time is up."

  "And what does that have to do with him?" Lady Covington gestured to Quinn.

  "Despite what you may think of me, Abigail, I am still a compassionate man."

  "You have no heart!" she accused.

  Sebastian laughed. "If I truly had no heart, I would have been done with you on that first day, when you pleaded with me to let you correct your mistake."

  "And I have not, yet. I need to apologize to my son."

  "And how many lives will you take? Do you think he will be more likely to forgive you with every murder?"

  Lady Covington screamed in frustration. "No—but— Everything has gone wrong! Since that day." She seemed dejected and Quinn was reminded of the woman he had bonded with in the library.

  "I thought your son had died, milady," Quinn spoke up tentatively. If Sebastian would not tell him what was happening, he would figure the answer himself.

  Lady Covington met his eyes, then, her gaze filled with unbearable sorrow. "When I saw what had come from me, I wanted to kill him. But I was weak, so weak. And I hoped that someone else might do it for me."

  "Perhaps the beginning might be best, Abigail."

  The Lady looked at him, and then wiped her eyes. "It was not my fault. I was so lonely with Father gone all the time and the shadow offered me companionship. Parties. Friends. They call them evil, but the shadow seemed so kind and you do not understand what it was like then in the country. When my husband grew ill, I asked the shadow to cure him and it granted my wish. And then I had my child and life seemed perfect. But the minute I gave birth to my child, the demon asked for payment. It wanted my soul.

  "I fought it, but it took its price. When I awoke, the midwife and my husband had been slaughtered. I sat in a room filled with blood, my squalling infant, and me. When I picked up the child, I knew then that the demon inside of me had passed to him. So I tried to get rid of him."

  "But he did not die," Quinn realized.

  "I felt guilty afterward. It was not the child's fault that he had been born so, so I went back. But he was not there. The last piece I had of my husband and I had given him away. I cannot die." She tried at first to appeal to Sebastian, but seeing his heartless look, she turned instead to Quinn. "I have to see my son. I have to know that he is all right. I cannot die, yet."

  All those people dead because Lady Covington could not let go. Even in the end, she could not take responsibility. Quinn's heart ached for her. Then he thought of Lawrence, whom she had mourned, "As you search for your child, you kill other people's children. How is that any better?" Lady Covington looked as though he had hit her. He felt sorry for her, he truly did; and perhaps it was that fact that made him a little angry with himself. Lady Covington had killed people; had killed his friend. He should not pity her. And still.

  "I did not want to kill! The demon made me."

  Quinn shook his head. "You could have stopped yourself. You could have gone to the hunters and asked to be destroyed."

  "Do you know what the hunters do to people?" Lady Covington asked, aghast. "You would have me tortured?"

  "What do you think you did to those people you killed?" Quinn asked in return. "I thought when I met you that you were different. You were not at all like the nobles I had met before, the ones who care more about themselves and their fortune than about the lives of other people. But you are no better. Do you think your son will consider all the lives you have taken and welcome you into his arms with forgiveness? Would you want a son that would do so?"

  Lady Covington cried a little and turned to Sebastian. "I apologize. The lives I have taken. I can only hope my son does not follow down his foolish mother's path."

  "Your son is a bit foolhardy," Sebastian said, and Quinn could hear the softness in his tone. Quinn was not the only one filled with pity at the creature Lady Covington had become. "But I see good things in his future."

  Lady Covington's smile was faint. "I thought you could not see the future." And her eyes closed. Maybe Oz was right about vengeance—watching Lady Covington die did not make him feel much better. Lawrence was still dead, as were the two men before him. And Oz, Oz might die still.

  Quinn wondered what Sebastian might do now. Had he been a hunter all along after Lady Covington? And if so, why had he allowed her to kill so many? As he watched, Sebastian flicked open the pocket watch. Quinn watched as the second-hand moved. What was so special about the watch? Then he looked up.

  A thread of light connected Lady Covington's body to the watch, and as he watched, it pulsed. After a minute, the thread broke, pulling itself back into the watch.

  "What are you?" Quinn asked again.

  Sebastian smiled grimly at him. "Not enough time right now for a proper answer."

  Quinn's eyes widened and he looked back to Lady Covington's body. It twitched. "The demon?"

  "Yes. And I suspect he is feeling a bit peckish." Sebastian watched with hooded eyes as the thing in Lady Covington's body stood up.

  "Wait. This is what you wanted a shield against?" Quinn asked, his voice rising in horror.

  Sebastian gave him a disbelieving look. "Did you think I wanted you to stand guard against Abigail?"

  "What sort of guard do you expect me to stand?"

  Sebastian shrugged. "I thought at the very least I could outrun you."

  Before Quinn could fully verbalize his outrage at Sebastian's statement, the demon spoke. "Have you come to challenge me at last?" Quinn thought at first that the demon referred to him, but when he looked up, he saw that the demon was looking at Sebastian.

  "Death comes for all creatures in the end. Even you, demon." Sebastian smiled and Quinn hoped that Sebastian never smiled at him like that.

  The demon stretched. "We shall see. Years of being inside of that woman has strengthened me. I am eager to see how my abilities have grown."

  "Oh, I will not fight you. I cannot."

  "Bound by your contract are you?" The demon sneered. "Then you are helpless to do much more than watch me as I feed."

  "Ah, but I cannot allow that either."

  The demon looked baffled. Then he turned to face Quinn. "A child?"

  "Wait, you expect me to fight him?" Quinn could feel how powerful the demon was. In contrast, all Quinn could feel of his own power was a slight tingling in his fingers. For all he knew, his arm had fallen asleep. "You must be joking."

  "Do you not wonder, Quinn, why your friend's body was dumped on your stoop?"

  Quinn had wondered. "I assumed she felt some remorse and intended to return his body to his mother."

  "Demons can sometimes be like mother birds, feeding their children until they come into their power." Feeding their children … But that would mean that Quinn was the demon's child. He gave a pained groan as it hit him, why Sebastian would know he was adopted: because Sebastian had known his mother—and that was how Quinn had come to inherit a demon's power. When he looked up at the demon, Quinn could see nothing of the woman who had birthed him—only black eyes filled with hunger.

  "What do they do after their child has come into power?" Quinn asked, taking a careful step back. He wanted to run, but he was sure that if he did, the demon would simply leap onto his back and devour him.

  Sebastian stated the words he least wanted to hear. "They devour them and make their children's power their own."

  "I am very happy to see you are well, Quinton," the demon stated politely. Before Quinn could even think of a response, a wave of power came at him as the demon attempted to crush him. Instinctively, Quinn put his hands in front of him. His fingers tingled as he barely managed to hold the wave of power back.

  When the demon saw the small effect of his attack, he grew irritated. "So the
child has some small skill. That means nothing."

  "Oh, but I believe it does," Sebastian remarked. Quinn noted angrily that he had moved off to the side, that damned pocket watch in hand. Faith or not, Sebastian's nonchalance at Quinn's impending death was rather aggravating.

  Quinn's attention was drawn from the demon's retort by the tingling in his hands intensifying. What was going on? Another wave of power came at him again and he put his hands up again, but this time, he could see, could watch as the excess seeped into his skin and tingled up his arm.

  When the demon saw that he had not managed to hurt Quinn, he howled in frustration and charged, raising Lady Covington's surprisingly muscular arm in a punch. When he was younger, Quinn's father had taught him how to fight dirty. It had been a painful lesson, but Matthew had believed Quinn was a little too delicate not to learn it. As a result, the local bullies had quickly realized to stay away from him. Quinn put some of that lesson to use now, nimbly ducking away and swinging out with a hit of his own.

  He connected, but the demon remained unfazed, although it was obvious that he was growing angrier with each missed attack. Quinn felt the tingling in his hands growing stronger still and an idea came to him; he tried visualizing the power wrapped around his hand as a physical force. This time when he hit the demon, he felt the impact and heard the demon grunt. The demon did not pull back immediately, but after a few more of those hits, the demon finally stumbled back, clutching his chest.

  "What are you?"

  Quinn had no idea how to answer his question, but he could feel the power thrumming through him. His pulse had jumped, his heart beating faster. He felt like he might explode if he could not expel his power somehow. It threatened to overwhelm him—whispered to him all the things that he could do. Why, he could stop Francis and his threats against Oz. He could hunt down his father's creditors and make sure they stopped harassing him forever. Quinn could do good; so much good. All this power at his fingertips.