Demon Hunt (25 page)

Pearl snorted in an unladylike manner. “Do you really think a long jacket hides a five foot broad sword? The only thing the jacket does is make it easier to hide from the general public a big guy wearing several feet of steel strutting down the street. And please don’t give Hemingway any credit in the fashion sense. He couldn’t accessorize a trip to the bathroom.” She smiled, staring past them at some fond memory. After a moment, she straightened and winked at Rhi. Ignoring the cars of the other mourners, Pearl reached behind her neck and pulled out a short, jeweled sword from thin air. There was a decidedly Oriental flavor to the blade’s decorations.

“
He gave me this as a gift for my wall. I found a much better use for it than as a piece of bric-a-brac.”

It was Rhi’s turn to snort as she examined the blade with interest. The little sword was razor sharp and appeared to be well-used. “God, who
haven’t
you slept with in the past 100 years?” She took the grips of the blade Pearl offered and lifted it in her right hand, feeling the surprising weight of the museum quality artifact. “Nice. I would’ve figured you for a gunfighter-type revolver. Or maybe one of those prissy little Derringers with the pearl grips. Are demons easier to kill with a sword?”

“
Oh, the revolver is at home on my nightstand. It
did
ruin the line of my suit.” The madam took the short, curved sword back and with the effortless ease of long practice, slid the length of steel into a scabbard hidden by the curtain of her hair.

Now that Rhi knew that it was there, she was amazed that she hadn’t noticed the glittering hilt at the back of the other woman’s neck.

“
Demons are hard to kill with anything - a gun will work after about thirty shots unless it is specially prepared.” Pearl did not mention how to prepare for shooting a demon. “A good slice severing the head from the neck is best, as long as the critter takes a form where it’s easy to figure out where the head is.”

Rhi shuddered as she examined the small gold insignia on the breast pocket of the black fatigues Pearl wore under her mink trimmed cloak. “Designers make fatigues?”

“
Of course. A black outfit for every occasion, darling. Can we go to the
Saint Nicholas
now? I need a cocktail - I drank aura from a construction worker this morning and I feel polluted. I did talk him into going back to college for his doctorate, though.”

The other two women had no adequate answer for her, so they headed down the hill to their vehicle.

“
There’s a picture I didn’t need this morning,” Rhi whispered to Pam.

“
Stay away from my neck, Mistress of the Dark,” Pam replied a bit shakily.

“
Did you drive here?” She asked Pearl, ignoring Pam’s jibe.

With a toss of her head, Pearl loosened another scarf and several more gossamer strands of hair escaped. “No, I flew. But I’ll ride with you girls to the hotel, if you don’t mind. The wind is mussing my hair.”

“
It’s broad daylight! Didn’t anyone see you?”

“
Do you realize how few people look up anymore? These people live with one of the most beautiful views of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range available and they’re too busy counting how many nickels they’ve gotten out of the poker machine at the bar to notice.”

While the vehicle rattled along, Pam turned to face the creature lounging in the backseat, her sword at her side. Pearl sat at ease on the worn bench seat, not bothering with a seat belt.

“
Would you like us to drive you past the ‘Old Homestead’ for old time’s sake?” asked Pam, referring to Pearl’s original brothel from which the madam ran her girls in the days of yore. The large building still stood on Myers Avenue - a sturdy old whitewashed storefront festooned with architectural garland and filled with lavish turn of the century European furnishings. The present owners had converted it into a museum.

“
Heck, no! I’d get irritated about them not selling me back my Edison phonograph. It was the first thing I bought when I decorated the place. It’s bad enough I’m going to the Saint Nicholas. I’ve avoided the place for decades.”

“
Why?” Rhi queried.

“
The Sisters of Mercy who ran the hospital when the building was the St. Nicholas hospital knew me well. I lost count of the trips there with my clients and girls. Plus, I let my ‘dead’ body be carted there for pretend embalming.” Pearl glanced at Rhi’s pale profile. “Does the Saint Nicholas bother
you
, Rhi? Is that why you are so pasty? You need a bronzer. Rough night?”

“
What do
you
think? And why would the Saint Nicholas bother me?”

The other woman shook her head knowingly and Pam’s eyes widened. “She thinks it would bother you to, Rhi - because you died there. Didn’t she?” she asked Pearl.

The madam’s expression turned grim. “The place worked up a pretty good body count in those days. You might want keep that in mind, Rhi. This isn’t a game of chance.”

“
I have to disagree. This seems to be one big craps game and I’m the dice,” Rhi pointed out, dismissing Pearl’s words as they rounded the drive towards the pitched roof of the Victorian hospital turned hotel. “Warning me off is rather stupid, don’t you think? After all it’s not like I’ve got any choice in the matter.”

She swallowed the urge to stare back at the cemetery behind them and wonder where her past self lay in the ground, cold and rotted under a lichen covered gravestone
.

Should she order another spot for herself? Could she get a cut rate since a part of her being was already parked there? Rhi shook her head to dispel this train of thought and swore she would
never
ask where Raven’s remains lay.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The whitewashed 2-story front porch of the hotel appeared at the end of the road, framed like a postcard in the pines. A crowd had gathered, waiting to get into the post funeral festivities.

Rhi grimaced. Walking through a crowd was not something she would be comfortable with at the moment.

Pam grinned at her in sympathy in the rearview mirror.

“
Hey, we saw a dragon and a hot dude fly last night. Plus, you got laid. The day could be worse.”

Rhi parked and climbed out as Pearl chirped, “She got laid? Well, maybe Jack will be in a better mood now, thank God. Saving the world with a crab-ass is no fun at all. I’ll bet he hasn’t dated since the eighties.”

Rhi looked back at her in surprise.

“
What? Do you honestly think a guy like Jack Blackthorne has been celibate for 100 years? But I must admit that the women he’s been involved with over the years have all had one thing in common: dark hair, green eyes and a smart mouth.” Pearl rewrapped her head in her black silk scarves, her gaze coolly observing Rhi’s reaction.

Rhi shrugged, pretending that she was unaffected by the statement. She wasn’t surprised to hear Jack Blackthorne lived his life while she floated around in the afterlife, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hear about it. “That would be ridiculous, expecting a man to be true to a dead woman. No love is that strong.”

“
No love except maybe a true one,” Pearl replied with a knowing look.

“
True love doesn’t exist, Pearl,” Rhi told her. “Of all of the people I’ve met in my life, I’d figure you would know that.”

“
For a girl who has faced demons, vampires, changelings, and dragons – you’re awfully sure of what does and doesn’t exist.” Pearl replaced the expensive sunglasses over her unearthly gaze as she descended from the truck..

Rhi chose not to answer, instead concentrating on the graceful building ahead.

“
I just realized something. I thought you couldn’t go out in the daylight,” Pam said.

“
I can tolerate the sun, but I don’t like it. I never have. It ages the skin.”

Rhi snickered. She was feeling nasty towards Pearl after finding out for certain her soul mate hadn’t pined after her, celibately, for over a hundred years. “What? You’re 140 years old and worried about sun damage?”

“
One hundred and twenty nine,” Pearl replied as she posed for effect near the front of the truck. She tossed a length of scarf over her shoulder and sashayed towards the hotel, leaving the other two women to trail in her wake.

“
If I’d known we were escorting the queen, I’d have worn more bling,” Pam muttered, trudging through the slush of the parking lot. “This high drama is getting on my nerves.”

During this exchange, a shadow fell over them and Blackthorne was there, looking every bit the hero. He wore a black leather duster, designed for horseback riding in rough weather and useful to immortal knights who needed to carry a sword in public. Rhi suddenly felt better about Blackthorne’s lack of celibacy in her absence.

Houston stood nearby, attired in his best black cowboy hat, a barn jacket and jeans starched so heavily that they could have stood up on their own without the help of the man’s spindly legs. He removed his hat and ducked his head at Pearl.

“
Ma’am.”

Pearl took his arm. “Honestly, cowboy, if you don’t stop calling me ma’am, I’m going feel compelled to suck your blood and I don’t do that kind of thing. It makes me feel so …”

“
Old?” Pam supplied helpfully.

“
Shut up.” Pearl shot back at her as she pulled the hapless man along behind her.

Rhi craned her head up to meet Blackthorne’s gaze. He winked and leaned down to cover her mouth with his in a lingering kiss telling everyone within range exactly who belonged with whom.

She grinned and took his hand. “Would Pearl really kill Houston?”

“
Only if he stops worshipping her.”

Pam fell into step with the pair. “I think they’re cute.”

“
Cute like a piranha eyeballing a catfish,” Rhi muttered.

“
So does that make him a piranha?” Pam jerked her head towards Blackthorne.

“
If he bites me, I’ll just drive a stake through his heart.”

“
Do you two mind?”

They had entered the double doors of the hotel, where Batty Betty, wearing several tie-dye scarves over her coat, stood digging in her purse.

“
Gonna kill your husband, girlie?” Betty cackled. “Do it! I killed mine years ago, best thing I ever did for myself.” The old lady teetered down the steps towards the parking lot. Her jewelry rattled with each wobbly stride.

Rhi raised a questioning eyebrow. “Is everyone in this town mental? Is this what the prolonged exposure to high altitude does to your brain pan?”

“
Oh, that’s Betty. She always says that.”

“
Has Chief Boyd considered checking into her story?”

Pam shrugged. “Naw … Earl blew himself up trying to get rid of some big stumps on his property with dynamite. Even if she did it – well, Earl
was
kind of a jerk. Can we go make small talk with Marie’s family and raid the food table now? Her dad’s a rancher and I hear there’s fresh meat.”

Blackthorne narrowed his eyes. “By the way, I’m hard to kill.”

“
Don’t worry. If I decide to off you, you won’t see the stake coming. Besides, we aren’t married in
this
life. We’re just fooling around.” Rhi took his hand. “Now, did someone say fresh meat?”

Inside the hotel, Pearl examined the cheerful sounding gathering in the bar and wrinkled her nose. “Can they not bury
anyone
in this town without throwing a party? Oh, look! Martinis!” Off she went after the waiter.

Pam and Houston excused themselves to express their sympathy to Marie’s family, who gathered near the fireplace with their plates and glasses and grief. Rhi stayed in the double doorway turning about to examine the hotel like never before. Blackthorne hovered nearby, examining the crowd. Satisfied, he turned to watch as she examined every bit of plaster and molding.

The Saint Nicholas Hotel never bothered Rhi – she’d stayed in the establishment during her first days in Cripple Creek while she searched for a rental. But as she stood in the hallway in the afternoon with the comforting rays of the sun shining through the aged glass of the single paned windows, a shiver ran up her spine.

“
Are you all right?” Blackthorne took her hand, and she followed him blindly to the crowded bar. The bar patrons parted like the Red Sea for the couple, who took possession of two strangely empty barstools.

“
My old friend Jack,” a high-pitched, whiny voice caught Rhi’s attention. Manius Black’s weasel assistant swiveled to face them. He was dressed in pressed khakis, a button down and cashmere sweater but still conveyed a sense of trashiness in the insolent stare he fixed on her body. “Why, I haven’t seen you since that night a couple of years ago when you bought me drinks here at this very bar. Remember?”