It Happened One Doomsday (9 page)

For a moment, the glow in his eyes faded and she could see Greyson trapped somewhere inside. He looked around with growing alarm, as if trying to piece together what had just happened.

“Greyson, it's okay. It's me.” She wanted to take a step toward him, but she couldn't will her feet to move. Her knees shook too badly. Only the brick wall behind her held her up.

He shrank back away from her. “
Stay away!
” The words were doubtless Greyson's, but the bellowing inhuman voice was rough and full of anguish.

With a grunt, he leaped up onto the brick wall that separated the garden from the parking lot. He was silhouetted against the night sky like some ancient gargoyle contemplating an eternity of damnation.

Despite her fear, she stepped forward. She had to reach him, help him. While she still had a ghost of a chance. “Greyson. Look at me.”

At that moment, Nate erupted from the lily pond with a gasp and a geyser of water. “Help!” he croaked, coughing and splashing.

Without a sound, Greyson leaped off the wall, launching himself away into the night.

Instantly, he was gone, leaving Dru too overwhelmed to speak. The night air felt achingly hollow in the wake of his disappearance.

“Dru!” Coughing hard, Nate climbed out of the lily pond, water pouring out of his ruined suit. “What the hell just happened?” The look in his eyes was half disbelief, half haunted. As if he full well knew the truth but couldn't bring himself to accept it.

She didn't have time to wait for him to figure it out. She couldn't even give voice to her hurt, her anger, her panic. Because of him, Greyson was a demon now. Out there somewhere, fleeing into the night.

Alone. Tortured. Damned.

And it was up to her to save him. If she wasn't already too late.

10

MEANT TO BE BROKEN

Dru scooped her stuff back into her purse and left Nate in the garden, dripping wet and picking up pieces of his phone. She ran across the parking lot and got into the driver's seat of his new white Prius.

The horror on Greyson's face haunted her. The shock when he realized what he'd become. The real Greyson was still trapped inside that demon, his body twisted into something dark and evil. If there was any way to save him, if there was still any chance, she had to find it right now.

She started the car and pulled out onto the street. She headed north, the direction the demon had gone when he leaped out of the garden.

There were certain crystals she could use to try to track him down, but they were all miles away at The Crystal Connection.

Up ahead, a silver sedan sat parked at the curb, its lights flashing erratically, car alarm wailing. It was impossible to miss the deep depression in its roof where something had landed on it and leaped off again. Its shattered windows left a halo of broken glass sparkling on the pavement.

This was definitely the right direction.

Dru followed the street north for a few blocks, looking for anything else amiss.

Her skull throbbed with a pounding headache. An electric tingle coursed up and down her arm, strongest in the palm she'd pressed against Greyson's hand. She could still feel the ghost of his touch.

She'd never shattered a crystal like that before. In fact, she'd never cast a spell that was anything remotely of that magnitude. At most, her talents enabled her to charge up crystals, perform a few minor enchantments, and brew the occasional potion. But it was strictly low-key stuff.

Whatever her connection was to Greyson, it seemed to magnify her abilities in ways she couldn't predict. It elevated her powers into real, actual life-and-death sorcery. The thought terrified her and thrilled her at the same time.

But none of that mattered unless she could bring him back.

Ahead on the left, a geyser of water shot skyward. When she got closer, she spotted a broken fire hydrant lying on the sidewalk.

She cut left across traffic, drawing angry horn blasts and a split-second terror that she would total Nate's car. The next block looked quiet, until she found a streetlight bent at an angle.

She turned at that corner, pulse pounding. Up ahead waited another smashed car hood. Beyond that, shattered glass glittered in her headlights. She was close.

But still, no sign of the demon. Gradually, the trail of wreckage came to an end.

After a few more blocks, she circled around but found nothing. A few blocks after that, she realized she'd lost the trail.

She coasted to a stop on a residential street. Warm lights glowed in windows. Late-model cars sat safely in driveways. Swing sets and bicycles dotted smartly mowed lawns. It sent a pang of longing through her.

Part of her wanted to live here, on this street. Live a normal, safe life. No magic, no evil curses, no demons.

She could plant a garden. Trade muffin recipes with the neighbors. Have dinner parties.

But a little voice inside her insisted that she was surrounded by too much magic to fit in here. She knew firsthand that the world was full of foul creatures, ancient curses, and terrifying secrets that no human mind was meant to comprehend.

As much as she would love to put that all behind her and pretend that the world was safe and sensible, she just couldn't do it.

Like it or not, this was her calling, to fight back against the darkness.

North, she realized out of the blue. The demon kept heading north. He wasn't just fleeing randomly. He was headed toward something. But what?

Back to his source of power. Whatever cursed artifact it was that had afflicted Greyson. She kicked herself again for not checking out his place when he offered. How would she find it now?

She called Opal.

“Whatever happened, I didn't do it,” Opal said by way of answer. “And did I mention I'm off the clock?”

“It's about Greyson,” Dru said, rubbing her temples, trying to wish the headache away. “He's completely lost his marbles. Gone full-on demon.”

With a click, the TV noises behind Opal went silent. “Oh, girl, I'm sorry. That's hard. He was a nice one, that Greyson,” Opal said, sounding genuinely sad. “Anybody get hurt?”

Dru took a deep breath and let it out. “I'm a little shaken up, but I'm okay.”

“Oh, I know
you're
fine. On account of the fact that Nate's not calling me from the hospital, screaming like a little girl. What I want to know is, did anybody
else
get hurt? Anybody dead?”

“Well . . . no.”

“Anybody get their hearts ripped out? Literally, I'm talking? Dismembered, disemboweled, dis-anything?”

Dru made a face. “No! Yuck. Jeez.”

“Well, things could be a whole lot worse, then. Am I right? This is just some everyday demon making trouble. So he goes a little crazy, trashes somebody's yard, maybe gnaws on a couple garden gnomes. A week later, he wakes up like it's a bad dream, and everything's back to normal. Meantime, all we can do is wait it out. And I can get back to watching my show.”

“This isn't some garden-variety demon, Opal, trust me. This is serious trouble, the soul-devouring kind. Nobody's dead
yet
, but that could change.” Dru sorted through her purse, its contents now damp and grimy from the garden. She found her notebook. “I need to track him down and do whatever it takes to bring him back.”

“Back? Nuh-uh. I don't think so,” Opal said, indignation raising her voice. “You remember Dru's rule number one?”

“Of course I do. It's my rule. But—”

“‘Don't get involved in magic outside the shop.' First thing you told me on the very first day I came to work for you.”

“Actually, the
first
thing I told you was, ‘We opened forty-five minutes ago.'”

“Long as we're changing the subject,” Opal said, “what's Nate say about all this? Hmm?”

It hurt just to think about. “Let's just leave Nate out of this for the moment.”

“See what I mean? You know, if you want that man to put a ring on your finger and settle down, this is not gonna help make that happen.”

“Don't you think I'm painfully aware of that?”

“I don't know if you're aware of it or not. You say you want one thing, but then you turn around and want to go chasing after this demon-boy like it's some kind of a mission you're on.”

Dru held the phone out at arm's length and shook it, as if she could somehow throttle Opal. It made her screen go haywire, but it didn't do anything to calm her nerves. She brought the phone back to her ear.

“. . . told me no magic outside the shop, is all I'm saying,” Opal said. “Out on the street, you're not in control. Everything can go to pieces real fast. People can get hurt. People can get killed. Anything can happen.”

“Well,
anything
just happened,” Dru said. “Look, I know that there is practically zero chance I can fix this. But I have to try. This is my mess. It started in my shop. I have to fix it.”

“Dru, you made that rule for a reason.”

“Rules were made to be broken,” Dru snapped.

Opal paused for an excruciatingly long time before she answered. “I'm gonna quote you on that. You know I will.”

Dru flipped her notebook to a blank page. “The demon's heading north through town. Probably toward whatever's been re-afflicting Greyson. Something he's been exposed to on a daily basis.” She stared at the blank page by the dashboard lights, trying to think. “Did he ever say anything to you about where he works, or where he lives?”

“Mmm . . .” Opal didn't sound too sure. “Said he had a workshop at his place. Where he fixes up old cars, that kind of thing. I wasn't really paying attention.”

“Because you were busy picturing him naked.”

“Damn straight I was. I'm not dead.”

A workshop. That sounded like the right place to start. If Greyson had acquired some sort of cursed artifact and just set it on a shelf somewhere, it could've been re-afflicting him all along. Relentlessly breaking down his defenses. That would explain his quick transformation.

The question was, where was his workshop?

An idea struck Dru. “You didn't go to the bank today, did you?”

Opal sighed. “Let me tell you something, Dru, you don't even
know
how bad the traffic is on my way home. And don't forget you're not paying me mileage for this. It's a favor. So if you're on some kind of schedule—”

“Just
look
in the deposit bag, okay, please? If I remember right, Greyson paid with a check.”

“A paper check?” A long rustling sound came through the phone. Opal muttered something under her breath. “Okay, yeah, I got it. Greyson Carter.” Opal read off the address, and Dru wrote it down. “For real, Dru, even if he is there, what are you going to do about it?”

Dru looked over her shoulder and pulled away from the curb, speeding north. “If I can get there before he does, maybe I can find the source and break the connection.”

“What if the demon gets there first?”

“I've got some amethyst with me. And a wicked galena crystal. I can probably slow him down.”

“Slow him down?” Opal repeated, and the doubt in her voice made Dru realize she needed something much more drastic. “Slowing him down won't be enough. You know that?”

“You're right. I need something more direct. Some kind of brute force.”

“If this demon is as bad as you say, what kind of brute force do you think could take him down?” Opal said. “A shotgun? A Mack truck? A tank?”

“Worse,” Dru said, summoning up her courage. “I need Rane.”

11

HOW TO CATCH A DEMON

It took three tries to get Rane on the phone. When she finally answered, a rush of wind noise blasted through the speaker, along with the rhythmic thump of sneakers on pavement.

“D!” Rane puffed. “What's shaking?”

“Remember that customer I had, Greyson? He's turned into a serious demon. I need to stop him. If he
can
be stopped.” Dru took her eyes off the road long enough to read aloud the address from her notebook. When she looked up, she was hurtling toward the rear end of a parked UPS truck, its lights flashing. She swerved around it, heart thumping. “I need your help.”

“Demon ass kicking? Count me in,” Rane said. “You're like ten minutes from me. I'll be there in five.”

“Okay. Hurry.”

Dru could hear Rane breathing even harder. “In the meantime, stall him. But don't get, you know,
killed
.”

“How am I supposed to stall him?” Dru said.

“Cowgirl up.”

“Right.” Dru shook her head. “Wait, what does that even mean?” But Rane had already hung up.

Dru kept her sweating palms locked on the steering wheel as she careened through Greyson's neighborhood, worried some cop would pull her over and ruin everything.

But her fears were unfounded. It didn't look like a cop had set foot here in a decade. Sandwiched between the railroad tracks and a string of empty industrial buildings, the strip of brick single-family homes and one-level apartment buildings looked practically deserted.

Weeds grew along the edges of the broken sidewalks. Abandoned cars sat on dead dirt yards. Layers of graffiti covered up the boarded-up windows of empty houses.

She coasted to a stop in the middle of the road. There was no other traffic. At all.

The only sign of life was the occasional light in a window or the blue flicker of a TV.

She pulled up in front of Greyson's address, a former commercial building of some kind that looked as if it had been converted into an apartment with a small, attached warehouse or garage.

His workshop.

Afraid to get out of the car, Dru turned off the headlights and leaned across the seat to see what she could tell in the dark. It wasn't much.

Nondescript flat tan paint covered the old cinder block walls. The small windows revealed nothing, except for reflecting the caged light bulbs above the front double door and the garage-style door on the side. A simple black-and-white sign dourly advised,
No Trespassing
.