Chapter 8 #2
Suburban neighborhoods like mine arc around the town, the more expensive homes located on the coast, and the more affordable neighborhoods inland and abutting the hills. We live close to, but not on the beach, on the north side of town. An easy drive to Old Town, but not close enough to walk.
Inside the perimeter of relatively new construction, the town boasts neighborhoods near Old Town with cute cottages—like where Eric and I used to live—as well as incredibly ritzy areas tucked away in the cliffs.
That’s where the Greatwater Mansion is, a rundown historic home from the Hollywood heyday that Stuart and Bernie thought they could fix up and then sell as a boutique hotel through their real estate development company.
Then, of course, a pissed off demon put a damper on those plans.
A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. It wasn’t my fault the place got destroyed—it wasn’t even Eric’s, though he was at the heart of it—but I still felt responsible.
“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s hunt them down.”
Immediately, Eric laughed.
“What?” I demanded. Turning to face him.
“You.” He didn’t say anything else, and I rolled my eyes.
I’d never been a patient Hunter. Show me a demon, and I’ll go after it.
Tell me I have to search them out, and I wonder why I even signed up for this gig.
Of course, technically I didn’t sign up for it.
The first go-round, I was orphaned and raised by Forza.
The second, the demons pulled me back in by bursting through my window and attacking me in my kitchen.
But even so, I could have walked away. I didn’t.
I made the decision to stay in to protect my family, not to mention the world.
But that doesn’t mean I like the drudgery that comes with the job.
I sighed again, then lift a foot, showing off the comfy sneakers with awesome arch support I bought before we headed to Rome. “At least I have the appropriate footwear for tonight.”
Eric grinned. “Remember that summer in Paris? You were wearing the right footwear then, too.”
I had to clap my hand over my mouth to stop from barking out a laugh as I recalled that night.
We’d taken out a nest of feral vamps and decided to celebrate our victory with an evening of dinner and dancing.
I’d worn a pair of fabulous shoes that hurt my feet—but the stiletto heel came in handy when a demon attacked us on the way back to the hotel.
“How many names are on your list?” I asked as we continued north to where the boardwalk ended, giving way to a beach area often used for volleyball and picnics. We continued across the sand, Eric’s cane making indentions as we walked along.
There’s no additional lighting in this area, so we had the beach mostly to ourselves, as everyone not coming to the dark section to make out or hunt demons was on the beach area closer to the shops and restaurants.
We moved as quickly as the rocks and uneven terrain let us, heading toward the narrow strip between the surf and the cliff base where we’d find series of small caves that provided some shelter even at high tide.
I’d nailed more than a few demons there, and I make a point to always check it for strays.
As a rule, a demon’s going to prefer a comfy house. But especially when they’re newly turned, a demon will hole up anywhere while it’s getting its bearings.
“I pulled fifteen names,” Eric said, and I paused to look at him, shocked by the number.
“Fifteen?”
“Of course, two of them are in my trunk already.”
“When we take out Henry and Esther, we’ll be below a dozen. But that’s still a lot for a town this size.” I shook my head, already exhausted from the thought of non-stop demon hunting. “We really need to make a pact to not leave town at the same time again ever.”
“You left. I was already gone, remember? And trust me when I say there were plenty of demons in Los Angeles to keep me busy before I headed over to Rome.”
“Are there?” I’ve never particularly liked LA, but that didn’t mean I wanted the place to be teeming with demons.
His shoulders rose and fell. “Actually, considering the population, no, which is a good thing because I was hardly on my A-game. I’d check the papers and do some patrolling, but not as much as I should have.
” He paused and looked at me more directly.
“Mostly, I blew off work in favor of a few mental health days.”
I snorted. Neither one of us had ever worked in corporate America and as far as demon hunting is concerned, we really don’t get enough mental health days. “Considering you had a demon inside you fighting to get out, and you lost an eye in the process, I figure you earned the downtime.”
“And now I’m not only back in action, but back in the hot zone.”
I paused outside the first cave. “It really is, isn’t it?”
His brow furrowed. “What is?”
“San Diablo. It really is a hot zone. We always believed that it was special because it repelled demons, what with the Cathedral being so chockfull of relics and whatnot. And maybe it did for a while. But something’s changed. Now this town is practically a demon magnet.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he said. “Though probably not something the chamber of commerce is going to set up as an advertising slogan.”
“Oh, that was really lame,” I said, trying not to laugh as I start walking again toward the cliff. “And, seriously, that’s what we need to get Eddie and Laura researching. Because if we can figure out what’s making San Diablo so rumbly all of a sudden, then maybe we can—hey!”
I stumbled as Eric grabbed my upper arm and tugged me back. I spun to look at him, then immediately saw what had caught his eye—an old man shuffling toward us through the sand.
More specifically, an old man who looked remarkably like the Henry we were looking for.
“He could just be a lost Coastal Mists resident.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Eric said.
“No. But we have to consider it before putting a stick through his eye.”
“Words to live by,” he said. “But we’re interrogating, remember? This is a capture mission first. If he’s human, he’ll be pissed, but he’ll be alive.”
We walked slowly toward him, and as we did, the possible demon approached us as well.
I felt my body tense, going into that familiar, heightened state of awareness.
Ready for a fight or flight. Ideally fight.
Even more ideally, interrogation. The kind that gets answers.
Solid answers. There are questions about my daughter lingering out there, and I don’t intend to rest until I know what’s going on with her.
Allie filled my mind as the elderly man trudged even closer.
He was moving slowly—appearing to be more elderly man than spry demon.
The body might be aging, but once a demon enters, even the most broken down body had remarkable strength and agility.
Still, most demons are smart and will play old and feeble in order to blend in.
Eric and I stopped in the sand as he came closer, and Eric put a hand on my back. Just a casual couple out enjoying the night. Except I noticed the way he shifted his grip on his cane, ready to use it as a weapon.
Another step toward us, then another. Then one more.
That’s when the old man looked up, his eyes going first to me and then to Eric.
I saw a hint of recognition, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that this man was a demon.
I took a step forward prepared to grab him around the neck, hold him close, and let Eric bombard him. Not with his fists, but with questions.
But before I had a chance to do that, he went down on one knee. His head dipped, and right then I could have killed him without even breaking a sweat. Honestly, I was too shocked to even try.
Then he looked back up, his glassy eyes staring straight at Eric’s face. “Sire,” he said.
Sire?
I glanced at Eric, wondering if he had a clue what that was about, but I know his face well, and there was only confusion and misery written there.
“I am not your Sire.” His voice was as hard as stone and as sharp as a blade.
“You are the consort. She does not now wish you harm.”
Eric took a step back. “She? Who?”
“The glorious one.”
Eric shook his head, and my hand went to my stiletto. There was nothing physical going on, but I could see that this was torture for him, a reminder of what he’d gone through before. And the unwelcome certainty that it hadn’t ended with the release of Odayne.
“Why?” Eric asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Why are you bowing before me? Odayne is not inside me anymore. I’ve been unbound.”
The demon tilted his head to one side then lifted his nose to the air and sniffed. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “The scent is still on you. Did you think it was only Odayne? The one she created? Do you think it is he that makes you what you are?”
“No. No.” He swallowed, his jaw tense. “Do you think I don’t understand what you’re doing? Do you think I don’t realize the mind games you’re playing?”
The demon rose, then took a step closer to Eric until they were only inches away. I stood frozen, unsure what to do, but my knife was still at the ready. If I had to, I’d use it.
But the demon spoke, and the entire world seemed to shift. “It was you, Eric Crowe,” the old man said. “You whose blood runs dark. They are in your debt, and you will be rewarded.”