Chapter 8
“At the risk of pissing off your husband,” Eric said, “you and I need to go patrolling tonight.”
“Why do I not believe that you care about pissing off Stuart?”
I’d invited him in and now we were sitting at the kitchen table. Timmy, who had given his “uncle” one big hug, was back on the couch with his puppies.
To his credit, Eric chuckled. “Good point. I don’t. But I do care about you and about seeing you happy. And I know that it will make you unhappy to go behind Stuart’s back.”
“It will. Especially since it’s our first night home.”
“True. But I have two demons in my trunk, remember? And there’s another one running around out there who attacked the girls.”
“I know.” And, honestly, it’s not like Stuart was home anyway. I sat back, meeting Eric’s eyes. “About these attacks today—Eddie and Allie both think that the demon population probably expanded significantly while we were in Rome. They have a point.”
“Makes sense. You and I weren’t here keeping the beasties at bay.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, pulling out my phone. “I’ll send Stuart an FYI text, and then one to Laura to please come play babysitter until we get back or Eddie comes home.”
I concentrated on my phone, grateful for the temporary distraction. Once the messages whooshed away, I looked up at him again. “It really would be easier if you’d just go back to Los Angeles,” I said. “But even so, you should know that I’m glad you still have my back.”
He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Always.”
I pushed back from the table and stood. “I need to change. You keep Timmy company, okay? And one more thing,” I added, pausing as I walked away. “Tonight can’t just be about hunting. We need to capture and interrogate.”
“Already thought of that,” Eric assured me. He pulled a folded sheet of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. “I went through a few old issues of the newspaper before Allie called about dead demon duty. Looking for those miraculous recoveries and survived accidents, you know?”
He knew very well I understood. “You found some likely candidates.”
“Oh, yeah. Lot of death and dying going on last month.”
“And to think I thought that coming home would be relaxing after Rome.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” He tapped the paper.
“I pulled as many addresses I could find, along with the locations where they died. Well, didn’t die,” he amended with a small shrug.
“We’ll start there and maybe we can decrease the local demon population by one or two tonight.
And you’re right,” he hurried to continue before I could get a word in.
“Interrogation first. As far as I’m concerned, the goal is to end this night with a better understanding of what’s going on with our daughter. ”
Our daughter.
The words seemed to hang in the air between us until, finally, I cleared my throat and mumbled something about changing clothes.
“Just one a sec,” I said, then scurried upstairs.
Honestly, it was a relief to step away. I needed to get my head straight.
As much as I intellectually knew that we needed to do this—and as much as I emotionally wanted Eric nearby—I couldn’t get past the reality that the whole situation was beyond awkward.
And my deep, dark secret? I’d been harboring the unlikely fantasy that somewhere down the line, he and Stuart would become friends. That this would all become easier.
But the truth is, even if they became best buds, it would only be easier for them. Because I was really and truly in love with both those men, and that reality had no easy outcome for me.
I changed into jeans, sensible shoes, and a long sleeve tee to combat the nighttime chill from the ocean, even in late summer.
I also slipped on my hunter’s vest, a Forza-issued addition to my wardrobe that looked a bit like something a photographer might wear.
I’d stocked it with pointy things and holy water, just like any good Hunter, and headed back downstairs ready to rumble.
By that time, Laura was settled on the couch with Timmy, who was thrilled to see her, especially when she promised him that he could stay up late so that they could build a city out of his Duplo collection.
Then—once I’d gotten hugs and kisses and promises to come kiss him good night even if he’s already asleep, and once I’d called Allie and told her and Eliza and Mindy to be vigilant—Eric and I set out.
We took separate cars to his old apartment, me following him. He’d moved to Los Angeles before the lease had expired, so coming back to San Diablo wasn’t going to be a hassle. The apartment came with an assigned garage, and we stowed his car there.
“I’ll deal with the bodies later,” he said as he slid into my Odyssey.
“How do you get them upstairs with out anyone noticing?” I asked.
He’d been handling demon disposal for a while now, but this was the first time I’d actually thought about the details of that particular workflow.
I wrinkled my nose as I pondered the question.
“I mean, you don’t hack them up and then schlep a demon-filled duffel up the stairs, do you? ”
He tilted his head to the side, then said, very simply, “No.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. But…?”
“Kate, do you really want to know?”
“No … but kinda?” What can I say? It was like picking a scab. I was certain there’d be something weirdly satisfying about hearing the details of how this business of ours worked on the practical, behind the scenes side of things.
“Let’s just say that there are a lot of chemicals stored in the high school basement, and I managed to wrangle a commitment out of Forza to send a disposal team every other month. They pretend to be a supply company coming up from LA monthly to pick up the barrels and drop off fresh lab supplies.”
“Oh. Right. I get it. Melted demon goo. At the high school. Where our daughter goes.” I wrinkled my nose.
“Sorry you asked?”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But melted demons are probably better than cadavers in the Cathedral. And it’s not like we can let the bodies pile up. Eventually, someone would notice.”
That’s a constant worry, actually. When Eric and I were young, we might have been based in Rome, but we were sent all over the world. Leaving a few demon corpses strewn about wasn’t that big a deal, even though the poke in the eye made it look like foul play.
For one, the odds of tracing it back to us were slim.
For another, most of the time a Forza disposal team would take care of the problem before the body was discovered.
But a few bodies here and there are different than dozens of kills in a single city.
Disposal is necessary if we want to avoid the human world noticing.
And we really want to avoid that. Not only would it be incredibly inconvenient, but Stuart is still friends with the District Attorney. And how awkward would that be?
We parked at the beach, starting our search at the boardwalk. San Diablo is famous for its riptides, but there’s also a very low mortality rate. As far as the public knows, anyway.
That’s because most of the people who get sucked out into a riptide and drown come back again with a demon inside them—like the four who so miraculously survived while we were off saving the world in Rome.
Since demons tend to return to the place where they became enfleshed, it’s a rare patrol when I don’t encounter a demon near the boardwalk.
For that matter, the largest local nursing home, Coastal Mists, sits on a cliff that rises just past the north end of the boardwalk.
And, surprise, surprise, Coastal Mists is also a popular demon spawning location.
And quite a few make a home there, too. At least until we discover them.
“Henry Blankenship and Esther Waters,” Eric said, pointing up toward Coastal Mists. “Henry had a stroke four days ago, but survived. Esther, a heart attack just yesterday morning. The staff doctor was able to revive her.”
“I bet he was,” I said, tilting my head to look up at the nursing home that had once been a prison for Eddie, who’d been stashed there by a band of determined demons set on discovering a secret he held.
When I’d first found Eddie there, I’d also discovered that many of the employees were demon “pets”—humans who know the score and are willing to take on tasks for demons in order to gain something.
Usually money, but sometimes the demons promised magic, invisibility, immortality, all those shiny goodies.
Most of the time, the promises were lies and the pets just ended up dead.
Humans, I’ve learned, can be pretty damn gullible.
“Shall we go up and have a chat with Esther and Henry?”
Eric shook his head. “I called Coastal Mists on the way to your place. Both of them have wandered away,” he said, adding air quotes around the last because, of course, we both knew that they hadn’t wandered at all, but deliberately left.
“That means family and the Coastal Mists staff will be looking for them, too,” I said.
“Staff, yes in theory, but we both know that place doesn’t have the manpower. It’ll fall to the local cops. And neither of them have family.”
“Which means we need to make sure no cop is around when we find them.” I shrugged.
“That’s pretty much par for the course.” After all, when your primary weapon is a sharp stick through the eye, and your efforts to save mankind from the scourge of hell leave evidence that most people would think points to murder, avoiding the local cops ranks high on the mission plan.
“If they both skipped out on the nursing home, they’re probably holed up in town somewhere.
” I glanced around, considering our options.
“Let’s check the caves, then we can do a few passes in Old Town.
” San Diablo doesn’t really have a downtown.
A few miles inland, there are office buildings and shopping areas, and the tourist-friendly area near the beach is Old Town, with it’s classic-style theater, cute shops, and popular restaurants.