Demon Hunt (3 page)

A stop to vomit was not an option. She needed to concentrate. “Please tell me you mean her love and not the pulsing thing in the center of her chest.”

“
Sorry. And yes, I’m freaked out too. Want to come over? We’ll have a sleep over and eat lots of popcorn and make stupidly fattening cocktails.”

“
I’ve gotta go get my dog and I want my own bed.” Rhi sighed. “I just hope if he’s out here, he comes to your house first. If he does show up, give me a call. Because a friend will help you move, but a good friend will help you move a body.”

“
And don’t think I’m going to forget!” Pam hesitated. “Rhi, are you alright? You sound a bit weird.”

“
Uh, you just told me about a kinda gross murder in the town and I was maybe the last person to speak to the victim. I didn’t like Marie very much but …” Rhi trailed off, thinking of the shadow outside of the casino earlier. “You
do
realize I just walked alone to my truck right in downtown Cripple Creek? You’d sound weird too.” She set her jaw. Freaking out would have to wait. “I can see the lights from here, I’m almost there anyway.”

“
Call me when you get inside, okay?” The other woman ordered, her voice booming again.

“
Yes, Ma’am!” Rhi flipped the phone shut. Lights blazed ahead as she pushed the switch to engage the four-wheel drive and gunned the engine to take the slope of her driveway. The SUV burst through the new powder to arrive at her small A-frame perched on the side of a hill off of Horse Thief Gulch, snow frothing to the sides of the drive. Rhi sat in the driveway for a moment to scan the gray shadows between the pines.

The feeling of menace from the road hadn’t followed her up the slope. Relieved, she examined the picture postcard scene of her home and the clearing.

Strategic timers lit the house, inside and out. The lights made her comfortable coming home to an empty house a quarter of a mile from any neighbor.

The nights in her new home thrilled Rhi when she arrived in Colorado. A stunning, solitary spot, the little house in Horse Thief Gulch possessed an unobscured view of banks of clear stars marking the night sky, unblemished by the pollution of city lights. The night sounds of the mountains hypnotic in any season, civilized noises were prohibited.

She spent the warmer evenings on the deck beside her fire pit, a glass of cabernet in hand, admiring the sky. But as the snow formed falling patterns of Battenburg lace in front of her headlights, the mountains that once offered solace felt menacing.

Rhi’s huge bloodhound, Ellie Mae, stuck her head out of the heated doghouse when the trucks lights hit the clearing. The fortress-like dog pen surrounding the doghouse had been caged on all sides and the roof to keep wayward, hungry mountain lions out. The dog could not be left inside the house for the duration of a double shift because of her size. The 20-foot long dog pen offered enough room for Ellie Mae to stretch her legs and enjoy the sights and smells of the mountains.

The dog’s deep baying could be heard inside the vehicle. Rhi grabbed a leash and large cardboard box from the passenger seat before stepping out of the truck to make a run for the kennel. She allowed the dog two minutes of enthusiastic tail wagging and slobbery kisses before picking her way through the snow to the front door with the dog at her side and the cardboard box balanced on one hip.

She unlocked the deadbolt and threw open the door to allow the dog to check out the premises.

“
Pity the fool hiding in our house, huh, girl?” Rhi grinned and locked the door. She turned to observe as the animal prowl
ed
through the entire house, inspecting every room. Finished, Ellie Mae returned to nuzzle her mistress’s hand and stroll to the overstuffed couch to stretch out full length across the plump cushions.

“
I’m glad someone’s comfy,” Rhi muttered. She placed the heavy box on the kitchen table, stripped her outer clothes off and dropped them on the bench by the door. Heading upstairs to the loft bedroom, she pulled an oversized sweatshirt, leggings and wool socks over her chilled skin.

Rhi’s long black hair fell over her face for a moment, the smell almost suffocating. Too tired to shower and wash the mess, Rhi sprinkled her offending mane with baby powder and ran a brush through the strands as she headed downstairs.

After making hot chocolate in the kitchen, she carried her cup and hairbrush to the living room. Ellie Mae sat up on the couch and gave her a reproachful glance.

Rhi flipped a light switch to turn on the cheery flames of the gas fireplace and picked up the remote. She spared a wry smirk for Ellie Mae, whose tail eagerly thumped against the couch cushions.

The dog’s mournful brown eyes met hers.

“
I’m sorry I didn’t turn the idiot box on, okay?” Rhi apologized. “I’m a bad pet mommy! How about Animal Planet tonight? Maybe
Emergency Vets
is on.”

She switched on the set for her media addicted dog and glanced through the entrance to the kitchen. A new goodie box of used books and interesting bits of junk from the antique store in Victor sat on the battered kitchen table, beckoning. She contemplated delving into its depths to escape the mental picture of Marie Collier’s fate.

No.

Instead, she seated herself in her easy chair with the cocoa and propped her aching legs up on the ottoman. She was home and safe. She would not allow herself to believe otherwise.

A half a cup of cocoa later, she slept.

* * * *

In the kitchen, a soft red glow rose from the box of books on the worn table. A low humming sound flowed through the house. Ellie Mae cracked opened an eye to observe the radiance rising from the adjacent room. Hackles rising, the dog growled as the light and sound hastily retreated.

Chapter Three

The town burned. The weathered, gray wooden buildings belched orange and red flames. The cracked wood, dry from years of exposure to the arid Colorado climate, caught the sparks and held them until they grew to adulthood in seconds.

Black smoke rolled out of doorways, carrying the reek of rotten eggs and stinging Rhi’s eyes.

A red-haired woman half-carried, half-dragged Rhi, ignoring the crowded boardwalk. Instead, she steered them through the filthy center of Meyers Avenue.

Ash fell on the fleeing crowd as thunder shook the hillsides. Most assumed the fires reached a cache of dynamite in one of the mines. Rhi knew better. Monsters and men wrestled beneath the mountains, beings of such power there would be little protection if they burst free.

What was the name of the woman who dragged her along unmercifully? Oh yes, Pearl DeVere. The most famous madam west of St. Louis.

Rhi gritted her teeth, trying to not to scream. Her unforgivably damaged body made each step Pearl forced her to take pure agony.

A detached part of her mind dully watched the skirts of her dress dragged through manure, rotting garbage, and pools of urine. Pearl struggled along with Rhi’s arm over a shoulder. Rhi did her best to keep up but her wounds hampered her, and she couldn’t catch more than a tablespoon of air in her lungs at a time.

Pearl’s cupid bow lips moved but Rhi heard silence. She made an effort to speak but coughed instead, and felt the blood run down her chin.

They fought through crowds of fleeing miners and dance hall girls until a man barred their way, holding a broadsword in one bloody hand. He spoke and Pearl shook her head several times before relenting, reluctantly handing Rhi over. The newcomer looked as if he had crawled through a ditch filled with mud and glass, and his clothes were covered in blood and filth.

He took Rhi in his arms after tucking the sword into a scabbard at his side. Pearl gathered up her skirts to do an unladylike trot behind him. They made an odd group and should have gotten a bit of attention. Pearl, dressed in her tenderloin district finest, had her more obvious charms on partial display. But the citizens of Cripple Creek were busy, salvaging possessions and fleeing the fire, looking nowhere but at their feet, the better to avoid slipping in raw sewage.

The man with longish black hair thundered along with Rhi clutched to his chest. She glanced down and realized her dress had been on fire at some point, the fabric ripped and scorched in places. She was marked by strange, oozing wounds and noticed they covered her benefactor and Pearl as well. A nasty bite oozed near Pearl’s slender neck. Deep bites and scratches covered the trio and their clothing was in tatters.

The man whispered and Rhi tensed. He wanted something but she couldn’t hear. Pain creased his features as he spoke.

Another massive explosion rang through the mountains and the ground rolled beneath them. A geyser of ash and dirt spewed into the air from the hillside behind Meyers Avenue.

Losing consciousness, Rhi’s eyes closed on the sight of the burning gold rush town and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains shining in the distance. She curled against the man’s shirt, listening to his heartbeat. Sangre de Cristo, ‘The Blood of Christ’ mountains. Blood – she’d seen enough blood today.

* * * *

Ellie Mae remained on guard as Rhi struggled in her sleep. The dog crept nearer to nuzzle the woman’s hand and the blanket covering Rhi fell to the floor. Then the animal lay down nearby, ever watchful, glancing occasionally towards the kitchen doorway. But the sound and the glow knew better than to approach Rhi’s guardian again.

The woods surrounding the house should have been silent. Instead the trees whispered and moaned. Down the gulch, the falling snow obliterated small prints resembling those of barefoot children. Hundreds of tracks in circular patterns cut off abruptly at the foot of the hill. The tracks milled and paced, their makers an impatient bunch, stopping next to an invisible barrier bordering the land near the house.

The prints’ makers wanted her. Badly. The girl was close enough to taste.

Chapter Four

The ring of the phone shattered the dream into a thousand mirrored pieces. Each bit reflected the mountains named for the blood of a messiah.

Rhi clutched her head. A railroad spike pounded through her skull. She rolled out of the chair and climbed to her feet. A drowsy Ellie Mae eyed her from the floor.

The phone continued to ring as Rhi stumbled about the room.

Where had the damned thing gone? There.

The noise stopped before the answering machine kicked on. She stood for a moment with the phone in her hand before she dropped the receiver and made her way to the bathroom to dig in the cabinet for her migraine prescription.

She slid to the floor with the bottle in one hand and a cup of water in the other.

The dreams were misty scenes in the muted tones of old-fashioned daguerreotypes. The stink of late 1800’s Meyers Avenue still clung to her skin.

As she wiped something wet from her chin and gaped at the red stain on her fingertips, the phone rang again. She staggered to her feet and made her way back to the living room.

Only one person would call at four-thirty in the morning on New Year’s Day.

“
Rhi! Why the
hell
haven’t you called me?”

As usual, Pam’s shrill voice hurt a bit.

“
I fell asleep … until the phone ringing scared the crap out of me! What are you doing still prissing about at this hour?” Rhi’s voice came out as a croak.

Pam lived with her small daughter across the mountain in a second A-frame and it suddenly occurred to Rhi that she had forgotten to call her friend after she had locked herself inside her house. She shuddered - shocked Pam had bothered to phone to see that she was alive instead of calling in several neighbors to form up a lifelong dream: a real posse, guns and all.

“
God! I’m
so
sorry that I didn’t call!” Rhi bit her lip to keep down a moan. A box of tissue sat nearby and she grabbed a handful to swab the blood off of her chin, upper lip and nose. A quick glance at her arms and the front of her shirt eased the fear that there might be hideous little bloody bites all over her body.

“
Do you have any idea how close you were to having half of the Cripple Creek police force along with the fire department in your house?” Pam lectured. “And turn some of those lights off, your place looks like a disco from over here.”

“
I forgot.”

“
Just come over to stay and I’ll shoot anything that wakes you. Or we can have hot toddies and watch our favorite movie again, for the four hundred and eighty sixth time. My sitter braved the snow to go home so it’s just us girls.”

Rhi glanced at the bolted door and the dog dozing on the couch. “Ellie Mae’ll grumble if I take her back out in this weather,” she replied. “Anyway, I’ve got to get up and unpack some more. These last few weeks have been so busy and I’ve still got moving boxes everywhere. And I keep adding stuff. I’ve got to stay out of thrift shops in Victor.”