Demon 04 - Deja Demon (34 page)

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Authors: Julie Kenner

BOOK: Demon 04 - Deja Demon
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I whipped around to find a bruised and bloodied Dukkar behind David, the sharp edge of a knife pressed right against his jugular.
“His name is Eric Crowe,” the woman continued. “And the blackness clings to him like night.”

 

Seventeen
Her words stung,
but that didn’t slow me down. I dumped Timmy on the ground, then launched myself across the tent, yanking the old lady around and getting my arm across her neck.
“Mommy!” Timmy screamed.
“It’s okay, honey. Mommy’s only playing.” To the woman, though, my words held a stronger tone. “I don’t normally kill humans,” I whispered into her ear. “But today I’ll make an exception. Let him go.”
“I would willingly die to ensure that the vile beast does not live,” the woman said, which wasn’t particularly encouraging.
Still, her companion didn’t have the same fortitude, and I saw the hesitation in his eye and saw the tension in his knife arm ease. David must have felt it, because he shifted slightly, then brought his elbow back and into his captor’s gut. It was a risky move—one that could easily have gotten him killed—and I shoved my own captive forward, hoping that by knocking her to the ground, I’d distract the man even more.
David anticipated my maneuver, and as soon as I gave the woman a shove, I saw him thrust his body backwards, knocking down his already unsteady captor. Meanwhile, I stepped in front of Timmy, protecting him in case the old lady got any ideas.
David had already burst into motion, yanking the sword hidden in his cane free and jamming the tip up against the battered man’s neck, even as his foot came down hard on the man’s rib cage.
I grabbed Timmy’s hand, tugging him along with me as I retrieved the man’s knife from the ground, and then I bent down and pressed it to his throat as David took a step back. That close, I could see even more clearly the damage David had done to this man after Dukkar had attacked him in the apartment. His face was swollen and purple, his lip split, and chunks of hair were missing.
I winced, but forced myself not to feel sympathy.
He’d
attacked David, after all.
David helped me yank the man to his feet, and we stood there together. Me with one hand holding my son and the other with a blade at the ready. David set to defend us with his cane.
“Talk,” I said, as David took Timmy’s hand and pulled him back, letting me focus entirely on my hostage and the woman with whom I was bargaining. “I haven’t got the slightest problem killing a demon’s pet.”
“Pet?” Timmy repeated, and I forced myself to tune out my toddler. Undoubtedly this entire incident would result in years of therapy down the road, but at the moment there wasn’t much I could do about that. As long as I got us all out of here alive, I’d consider the afternoon a success.
“No problem killing a demon’s pet?” the woman repeated, her eyes not on me, but on David. “Is that a fact?”
“Don’t even think about playing that game,” I said.
“You trust him?” she asked, eyes narrowed at me. “That one with the stench of evil upon him?”
“Shut up,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t about him, it’s about you. It’s about the sword. And it’s about who the hell you people are.”
“We are like you,” she said in a low, even tone. “At least, we are like what we believed you to be.”
“And what’s that?”
“A Hunter, of course. One who seeks out and destroys evil no matter where it might breed. A different method, perhaps, but the results will prove the same.”
“What method?” I demanded.
“Release Dukkar,” she said. “Release him, send that one out of the tent, and we will talk together.”
“David stays,” I countered. “And I’m not taking this knife off his neck until I like what I hear.” I shot a sideways glance to David, who nodded, but his stormy eyes never left the woman’s face.
Something was going on under the surface, and I didn’t know what. All I knew was that these freaks were my only lead on what the demons had planned, and there was no way I was backing off from my advantage.
“What method?” I asked again.
“We wait for the one,” she said. “We wait. We watch. We see.”
“The one?”
She inclined her head. “One who needs our assistance. Dukkar provided such aid at Emeralds, did he not?”
“He did,” I admitted, though grudgingly. “But he was only there in the first place because you people have been following me around. Watching me.”
“We watch you still,” she said. “And we see much.”
“What?” I demanded, surly because we were getting nowhere. “What do you see?”
“You,” she said. “You are unsure. Remorseful. It clings to you, a sour stench infiltrating your very essence. Trust your instincts, Kate. You know that you are right.”
“All I know is that you’re not telling me a damn thing,” I said. “What do you know about the Sword of Caelum?”
“I know only what I have heard and seen.”
“From me,” I said.
“From the one you killed,” she said. “Thoughts linger. They cling. And it is the way of my kind to read the essence left behind.”
“English, please.”
“She’s saying she’s psychic,” David said. And what I thought was interesting was that he didn’t say she was full of crap.
“Enough,”
I said, as irritated by the direction of my thoughts as I was with this crazy woman. “What are you talking about? Who did I kill?”
“The demon, of course. The one called Watson.”
And that was when the light dawned. “
You
took the body,” I said, even as Timmy started to hum his dead-demon “Jingle Bells” tune.
“It was necessary in order to gain the insight. They come, and the window to stop them closes with each passing moment. ”
I made a face. “Woulda been nice if you could’ve taken the hacked-up zombie, too.”
“The zombie was useless. There is no essence. No spirit force to linger and read.”
“All right,” I said. “You’ve caught my attention. What did Watson have to tell you?”
“Vengeance,” she said. “Revenge. Both against you and yours.”
“Bzzzt!”
I said, impersonating a game show buzzer and making my son laugh. “Thanks for playing, but that’s old news. Watson told me as much himself. Why don’t you try telling me
who
is coming.”
“He who destroys,” she said. “He who decimates. Once defeated, but not suppressed.”
“You’re not exactly batting a thousand today. Also old news,” I said. We’d figured out that Abaddon the Destroyer was coming days ago.
“He comes,” she said, swaying on her feet, her voice taking on an ominous singsong tone. “He comes with his brethren to strike us down. To prevail over what has been written and turn prophecy into folly.”
I opened my mouth to tell her to cut the bullshit, but then David’s hand closed on my shoulder. “No,” he whispered. “Look at her face.”
I looked, and saw that he was right. As nutty as our gypsy lady might be, she also seemed to have fallen into a full-blown trance.
“In the shadow of the Lord,” she continued, as the man to whose throat I held a knife crossed himself. “As day falls into night. The desecration of the hallowed eve when the sanctified blood has flowed. On that eve shall it flow first. And one shall augment the other and the prophecy shall be no more.” Her eyes popped open, bloodshot and swollen. She opened her mouth as if to speak, said nothing, then collapsed in a heap on the ground.
“What the—?”
“She recalled the demon’s essence,” my captive said. “It is exhausting to be defiled in such manner, the edges of her mind touching something even as minuscule as the remnants of thought. She will rest now.”
“But what about the sword?” I asked, keeping the knife point on his neck. “She has the amulet.”
His mouth curved into an ironic smile. “The design of the necklace is quite common. An ancestral symbol, yes. But also a decorative item.” He waved a hand to encompass the Bedouin-style tent, like something out of
Lawrence of Arabia
. “It is all trappings, yes? Designed to entice those who seek into the tent.”
“Seek what?”
His shoulders lifted in a deep shrug. “That depends on the person. What do you seek, Kate Connor?”
“I already told you that. I’m looking for the sword. A sword that can wipe out demons. A sword forged in ancient times by a tribe that wore that symbol.”
“I am sorry our information disappoints,” he said, bowing his head in apology despite the blade I still held (albeit with considerable lackluster) at his throat. “But I have no more help to offer you.”
He took a step back, and I let my knife hand drop. We were done here.
“Go now, and you may leave this tent without incident. Stay, and I cannot guarantee that either of you will survive.”
Big talk considering I was the one with a knife, but I wasn’t inclined to argue the point. The time for demons was over. I had a small child to comfort and a dinner to prepare.
"I don’t think
I’ve ever seen you that still,” I said to David when we were back on the road. Timmy had fallen asleep in the car seat, and though I’d started the drive in silence, I couldn’t keep it up. “For that matter, I’ve never seen you that quiet.” I wanted to say more, but the words wouldn’t come, and my own hesitancy scared me. This was David, after all. No, this was
Eric
. The man with whom I’d shared all my secrets.
Now, though, my nerves were frazzled and shot. For months, I’d feared I’d somehow tainted his soul by playing God with the Lazarus Bones. Now, it seemed, I had confirmation in the frantic ramblings of a crazy gypsy woman.
“Not too much I could say to those people,” David said. “Silence seemed the best plan.”
“You could have told them they were wrong,” I said, my voice low and my eyes on the road.
“I could have,” he said. “And I’m sure they would have believed me.” He paused, waiting for me to look at him, I’m sure, but I couldn’t do it. Not when I knew he’d see doubt in my eyes.
After a moment, he sighed. “Kate, they didn’t trust me. You needed information. I was completely out of the equation. Forcing my way into the scenario would have made things worse. Not better. At least now you know something.”
“Do I?” I said, thinking more about the woman’s accusations than her revelation of Watson’s talkative essence. “I’m not sure that’s information I want to have.”
I clenched my hands on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, hoping my thoughts didn’t show on my face. I should have known better.
“Katie,” he said, his voice so gentle I couldn’t help the tears that spilled from my eyes.
“I did something, didn’t I? I did something to you when I brought you back and you’ve been afraid to tell me. Or else you don’t know. Either way, oh God, Eric. I’m so sorry.”
I sniffled, then wiped the tears with the back of my hand.
“Pull over, Katie. Pull the van over, okay?”
I nodded, snuffling, then did as he said. As soon as I’d shifted into park, he moved from his seat toward me, lifting me easily and settling himself underneath me. I didn’t protest. Far from it, I welcomed his touch. I needed to feel him, to know that he felt strong and solid and good. To know that I hadn’t tainted him so badly that the sin rubbed off from the slightest contact.
“What have I done to you?” I whispered, my face pressed against his chest. “I was so selfish, so stupid.”
“
No
,” he said. “You didn’t do anything to me. Nothing, Kate.
Nothing
.”
“Then why—”
“How the hell do I know?” he said sharply. “Do you know that lady? Do you know Dukkar? Because I don’t, and they don’t know us, either. Yes, you used the Lazarus Bones. Yes, you were probably weak and selfish. But Kate, sweetheart, why on earth would that taint my soul?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But we’re not talking about earthly things.”
“Do you trust me?”
I pressed my lips together, hesitating only a second, but it was enough. He noticed.
“Yes,” I hurried to say. “Yes, of course I do.” I meant it, too. I truly did. But in that brief hesitation, I wondered if I’d lost some of
his
trust.
“Then believe this,” he said. “You did nothing to me. The Lazarus Bones did nothing to me. You hold no responsibility for the fate of my soul. I swear.”
“Eric . . .” I pushed back, my hands on his chest as I searched his eyes.
“I’m the same man you married, Kate. I promise.”
I let that soak in, liking the sound of it, even though I knew it wasn’t true. “You once told me you weren’t,” I reminded him.
A hint of a smile flickered over his mouth. “The shell has changed,” he admitted. “The rest is the same.” He closed his eyes, his body tense. “If you think it’s not hard . . . knowing you’ve moved on, and I’m stuck, an outsider in my wife’s life. You think you harmed me by bringing me back? You didn’t. Not any more than you harm me each day by going about your life. Because it’s hard, Katie. It’s so God-damned hard.”

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