Demons Shemons

by K. B. Draper

  Smiling, I said, “You never know, Danny; it could be the other way around this time. You could be nursing me back to health from a broken heart.”

  Danny snorted.

  “Hey, it could happen,” I replied, shoving him off-balance and into an oncoming tree.

  He caught himself. “Yeah, okay. Anyway …”

  I thought of the ranger and the way she challenged me at the sheriff’s department, the way she stood to look me in the eye, and the way the campfire had danced across her face … yeah, it could happen.

  Contrary to what I had told Ashlyn, Danny and I didn’t head directly back to our campsite. Typically, demons don’t attack a mass of gun-carrying humans, but I didn’t know what we were dealing with. I also didn’t know there was a model of demon that came equipped with wings. For that reason, and maybe one other cute ranger reason, Danny and I stayed on the fringes of the crime scene. We watched as the cops marked, photographed, and collected potential evidence.

  Ashlyn eventually made her way back to the bushes where Danny had found the severed hand. The team photographed and completed their Crime Scene 101 protocols; they prepared to remove it from the bushes. I watched. The hand had been severed just below the wrist. The few fingertips Danny and I had seen now showed the black oily remains of the once green demon blood. It was a right hand, clear of rings, well-manicured, with the nails painted a pale, conservative pink. As I first assessed, it was a woman’s hand or I guess it could be a drag queen’s; the job of victim was equal opportunity.

  They did a thorough ground search, taking nearly two hours before they cleared the scene, but they did not detect, or at least didn’t show any interest in, the gouges in the tree. A significant oversight, as I thought the marks could be directly connected to whatever caused this. It was not a big loss for them because, like the oily demon blood, their crime labs wouldn’t be able to identify the supernatural. They’d simply have another big fat checkmark in the “unknown” box.

  When the crime scene guys started to pack up, Danny came up next to me. “The ranger’s truck is back at the campsite. I should get headed that way so I’ll be there before she gets there.”

  “Yeah, go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I watched him for a second, then went back to watching Ashlyn and the others. They were taking one final assessment of the area, walking around, making sure they hadn’t missed anything. The guy with the camera began disassembling it, taking his time packing it away in its hard, black case. As the others wandered back to their cars, Ashlyn and the photographer dropped the cop talk and began communicating with the ease of longtime acquaintances.

  With his camera packed and the other officers out of sight, he stood, his posture now softened from hardened professional to caring … friend? He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. “Ash, don’t go there.”

  Ash? All night, Ashlyn had been called Ranger or Parker, but never once by her first name. Now, Ash? There was definitely an intimate relationship between the two of them. Ashlyn turned into him and he embraced her fully as he began to whisper into her hair. Though I couldn’t catch all of what he said, I did catch “we can’t go there again, we just can’t.” To say I was disappointed would have been an understatement. I’d thought my ranger was tougher than this, not the type that would be breaking down in the middle of a crime scene over an apparent past relationship. Okay, so “breaking down” was a bit of a stretch; she’d stiffened once and hugged a guy, a flippin’ cute guy, and, whatever, sue me, I tend to exaggerate when I’m irritated and, yes, fine … jealous.

  I left Ashlyn and Mr. Huggy to have their babies in the woods. Yes, they were still just hugging but irritation equals exaggeration, which I think is much better than strangulation, mutilation, and ten other painful “-ations” I could think of at the moment.

  I caught up to Danny, a growl vibrating in my throat.

  “Oh, whoa ... What the heck is wrong with you?” Danny asked, checking out my grimace as he jogged.

  “Nothing,” I replied as I leapt over a downed branch.

  “Your mouth says nothing, but your …” Danny vaulted the branch two steps behind me, “face is saying something,” he finished when he landed on both feet.

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “That an old Indian saying or just something from yesterday’s Dr. Phil episode?”

  Danny answered by kicking up the pace of our run, knowing the best cure for my frown was a good physical workout.

  We made it back to camp in just over five minutes, giving us plenty of time to cool down, change our sweat-soaked clothes, and get settled around the campfire with a sandwich and a beer before Ashlyn and her touchy-feely taxi driver came pulling up to our site.

  I knew I was being ridiculous. Ashlyn and I didn’t have a thing. I didn’t even know her. I had no right to be jealous, or to be anything for that matter. The bright side to these irrational girl emotions was that my pouty lower lip served as an excellent resting place for the rim of my beer. I would also like to take this time to reiterate that Aunt Flo is a needy little bitch. I took a long swig as Ashlyn and “tall, blond, and huggy” made their way to our fire.

  “I see you two made it back okay,” Ashlyn stated as she approached.

  Danny stood and held out a hand to the man with Ashlyn. “I’m Danny.”

  “Whitefang,” Ashlyn added with a look to the man.

  “Oh … oh,” he glanced at Ashlyn, then back to Danny as he reached out to shake. “Hey,” the man replied.

  The odd exchange had me looking up from my beer. “This is Josh Parker,” Ashlyn introduced.

  Peachy. Husband? Ex-husband? I groaned. I didn’t do complicated no matter how intelligent, snarky, and beautiful they were.

  “Josh is a freelance photographer, but when he’s in town he doubles as a crime scene tech,” Ashlyn elaborated.

  Geez, brag much? I thought as I went back to the very crucial task of peeling the beer label off the bottle without ripping it.

  “Nice … Well, not really nice about the crime scene, but nice to meet you anyway,” Danny stumbled.

  Josh laughed. “Back at ya. Sorry that you had to see all that.”

  Deep, sexy voice … super, super swell. Feeling psychotic, I stood before Aunt Flo could take me any further down the insane, irrational bitch path. The good news was that my favorite of all my gifts was that I also healed fast. Which meant said gift bitch-slapped my monthly curse down from a week to a day or two. So by tomorrow, the next day tops, I would be back to my normal charming self. In the meantime, however, I forced a grin, extended a hand, and looked directly into Ashlyn’s eyes, which were pleasantly placed on Josh’s face. I smiled. “You’re Ashlyn’s brother.”

  Josh’s perfect smile widened in pride. “Yeah, she’s told you about me?”

  I laughed. “No sorry, we have more of a cop – murder suspect relationship going on at the moment but I’m sure after the where were yous and the did you do its, she totally would’ve gotten around to it,” I replied, shaking his hand.

  Josh’s smile faltered as he took in my face and then Ashlyn’s. “Oh, okay. I think it’s nice to meet you? Unless you’re going to kill me. Then meeting you would kind of totally blow.”

  “I’m AJ and, no, you’re good.” I couldn’t help glancing at Ashlyn who had a look of pure amusement on her face. Releasing his hand, I offered, “You guys want to sit and have a beer?” There were a couple of reasons I wanted to extend the invite. One: I was so back to crushing on Ashlyn. Two: I wanted to see if I could get a feel for what Ashlyn was thinking about the investigation now that the crime scene had been processed.

  “I appreciate the invitation, but my night isn’t over. I have to head into the station, start on the reports, and make sure all the evidence gets logged in,” Ashlyn explained. “I just needed to get my truck.”

  I nodded. I understood the massive amount of field and office time required when you got a new case; I had spent many sleepless nights on the job
. Still did.

  “I’ll need to get statements from both of you. Since I was here with you I at least know the gist, so I think we can wait until tomorrow.” She paused, calculating something in her mind, and turned to Danny. “Where were you before you arrived?”

  Danny straightened. “I drove in from McCall Creek.”

  “What highway? Did you make any stops?” Ashlyn asked as she openly assessed Danny.

  Ashlyn was smart; she’d realized that although I was here with her, at least for this second murder, Danny hadn’t been here for either. He’d come screaming in, if you can scream in a used Prius, just as we had heard the cries from the forest. But she didn’t know if the sounds were actually associated with the hand and gut removal. Danny could have done that, came to the camp, screaming ensued for some other reason, etc. I guessed the medical examiner, or likely the coroner, who often acted as both in small towns, hadn’t been able to give Ashlyn or her team a specific time of death yet. However, he should have been able to tell by the blood, which was still wet and tacky, that the death had likely occurred in the last hour. Which didn’t really help to clear Danny.

  As Danny offered the route he’d taken and a gas receipt for roughly thirty minutes prior to when he’d pulled up, the stiffness in Ashlyn’s shoulders started to ease. I hoped this meant Ashlyn was moving Danny and me down a few notches on her suspect list. I hated that we were on it at all, but I couldn’t blame her. I would actually be disappointed if she didn’t still consider us possibilities.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” Ashlyn offered, “I would,” she focused on me, “like the two of you to reconsider the motel room. If it’s a matter of mone-”

  I spoke over her. “We’re good. We’ll be here if you need to speak to us again.”

  She opened her mouth with a protest, but must have realized her efforts were futile. “Okay, then I hope you’ll be extremely cautious until we can put an end to all this.”

  Josh reached out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Danny. AJ.”

  Danny and I both shook and returned his pleasantries.

  Ashlyn had already started for her truck. I followed. “Ranger,” I called out when she reached for her door.

  She stopped and turned back to me. “Yeah?”

  I ran a hand through my hair, uncomfortable with what I was about to say. “I, ah …” I had nearly lost the last cop partner I worked with, and I needed to be on the inside of this one. I needed to protect the cops and Ashlyn, who I knew now were going to be drawn into the middle of the demon’s little playground. “I may have left my job in Seattle, but I’m still a cop. And yeah, maybe I’m running from …” I trailed off, not sure so I diverted altogether, offering a weak grin, “or maybe it’s more that I’m running toward something else. Either way, I’m here now, and I would like to help if I could.”

  Ashlyn draped a hand through the open window of her truck, looking at me with sincere curiosity playing over her face. “Who are you, AJ Mattox?” she finally asked.

  I shrugged and kicked a boot at the grass clump in front of me. “I’m just a girl, standing in front of a girl, asking her to let me help solve a couple of murders?” I tried.

  Ashlyn laughed at that. “Cute. Very cute.”

  “Sooo …?”

  “Why don’t we start with statements tomorrow, see if you move a little further down the suspect list, and then we’ll see?”

  “Deal. How about Danny and I come to the station tomorrow around …?”

  “Ten,” she supplied.

  “Ten. It’s a date,” I agreed.

  “It’s an interview,” she corrected with a grin.

  “Right. Interview. What pairs well with an old-fashioned interview, white wine or red?”

  “Handcuffs,” she answered with a smirk.

  I couldn’t stop the wolfish grin that rose to my lips. “I can work with that.”

  Ashlyn gave me a long-suffering sigh before she simply gave up on formulating a reply, opting for a headshake instead. She hopped up into the driver’s seat and put a hand on the door, but I already was there shutting it for her. “Good night, Ranger Parker.”

  “Good night, AJ Mattox.”

  Chapter 3

  I had actually slept fairly well considering there could be some flying demon circling over my head ready to go all Land of the Lost condor on our asses. Dawn was just breaking, but Danny was already up and cooking breakfast. By the smell of it, he was working on his specialty, campfire breakfast burritos, my very most favorite. “If you weren’t you and I wasn’t me, I would totally reward you with sexual favors right now,” I said, sitting up, stretching right, then left, working out the kinks from sleeping on the hard ground.

  “I figured if we are going to be arrested for murder today that we should at least have a decent breakfast,” Danny replied as he stirred a little more salsa into the skillet of eggs.

  “Good plan.” I twirled a finger toward the sky. “You hear anything overnight?”

  “Nope. All quiet. You?”

  “Nothing,” I answered as I wiggled out of my sleeping bag. “Anything new?”

  “Got a message from Grandfather.”

  “And?”

  “Didn’t really say much, just that we need to be extra-careful. That we’re not to engage the demon unless it’s to protect ourselves and that he’d get back to us soon.”

  I paused from digging in my bag for my toothbrush. “Not to engage? You mean he wants us to stand by while this thing keeps killing people?”

  “That’s what he said.” Danny flipped the tortillas that were warming on the rack near the base of the fire.

  “What the hell are we up against?”

  “I’m still going with something super sucky. Get washed up. These are almost done,” Danny instructed.

  I didn’t do “standby” well. I did “jump straight into the middle of shit” well. They should really know this about me by now.

  Danny handed me a plate when I returned from washing my face and hands. “I know that standby is not what you want to do, but at least promise me that we’ll be a bit cautious.”

  “A tad,” I agreed over a mouthful of amazing.

  “Thank you,” Danny said, taking a seat across from me. “Run, shower, then head into town and see who may be missing a hand this morning?”

  “Works, but we have to be at the ranger station at ten to give our statements.”

  Danny groaned.

  “Don’t like being a murder suspect?”

  “Not so much,” Danny replied.

  I gave a half-hearted chuckle before letting my mind wander off to the real killer. We were facing a demon that has claws, wings, likes to gut people and then take their bodies … yeah, I didn’t get too far down that line of thought before hitting Suckville. “You haven’t found anything out about what we might be up against?” I asked before I stuffed the last bite of burrito in my mouth.

  “Not yet. I was going to start that search this morning. I spent last night creating that email and setting up our alibi.”

  “And now you’re talking like a real murder suspect,” I teased, standing to collect our dishes. “You start on that while I get this cleaned up and then we’ll take a run.”

  “On it.” Danny headed off to get his tablet.

  Norm and I were feeling itchy knowing that there was a demon nearby and we weren’t supposed to do anything about it. Or maybe it was just me.

  The dishes were done and I needed to run, but Danny was nose down into his research so I went off to collect more firewood.

  When I returned, arms full, Danny’s clicking and swiping had stopped; I hoped that meant he’d found something.

  “Something interesting?” I asked, stacking the wood in a neat pile off to the side of the fire ring.

  “Legends mostly,” he said, powering down his tablet, “nothing real substantial yet.”

  I nodded, no need to press Danny, I knew he would share when he found information he thought was helpful. “Run
to the clearing in case we missed something?” I didn’t think we had, but it never hurts to double check.

  “Works,” Danny agreed, stretching out his quads, then his calves.

  I mimicked him, though I didn’t really need to warm up. My body was already humming with the thought of a run.

  Danny and I made quick work of the ground. We were there in just over five minutes. I could have been there in less time but I was sticking close to Danny. We were still a good hundred yards away when I had started to smell the coppery smell of blood. I could also tell that several animals had visited the site as well. They too had been drawn by the scent of death in the air.

  We slowed, as we got close to the clearing. Danny’s eyes were already searching our surroundings for any traces of the demon. I started my own search, focusing my senses to locate an all too familiar scent. I smelled the damp rot of a fallen tree, the wild musk of a wolf pack that had passed through the area, the smell of fish and algae from the nearby lake, the blood and death of last night, but there beneath all those scents was what I was looking for, the familiar perfume of O’la Dem’on. The scent was one of sour sweat, decaying earth, burnt flesh mixed with the strange overlay of lavender. It was faint now, but still unmistakable. I stepped into the clearing and slowly turned around. The scent was more concentrated here, most likely because the demon had spent the most time here. It takes a few extra seconds to remove someone’s insides I guessed. “What are you thinking?” I asked Danny.

  “I think the demon snatched the woman from somewhere. I can’t imagine a woman was out here by herself, and I didn’t hear the cops say anything about a car.”

  “Could have been a second person and they took the car.”

  Danny conceded that point with a nod. “Or that. Either way, she ended up here, got a swipe in, and for her efforts,” Danny looked at the large spot of dark brown dirt where the pool of blood had soaked into the earth, “it took off her hand and gutted her.”