Cat Adams - Demon Song

It made me smile to know he was thinking about Beverly’s feelings. I wished I could have had a dad like him. “No problem. I hope it works out. We’ll talk more next week.”

I hung up just as Dawna reached the car. I leaned across the front seat, struggling against the seat belt to push open the door. She caught it with an elbow and swung it wide enough to hold it with her hip. She stuck out her tongue. “You could have helped, you know. It’s a long way across the parking lot.”

Oops. “Sorry. I was on the phone with Mr. Murphy, the mystery heir.”

“S’okay. I didn’t notice you were on the phone. But damn, these things are heavy!” She put down the front seat and started to stack the books on the floor of the backseat.

Anna had reached her car, a little silver sedan that suited her personality—dependable and sturdy. She met my eyes for a brief moment and bowed her head once in what I assumed was a gesture of thanks.

Three things happened at once: Anna turned to get into her seat, Dawna finished stowing the books and sat down, and I noticed a shadow moving toward the silver sedan. The shadow was fast … too quick to be human. I had my seat belt unfastened and the door open before I even realized I was moving. My leg muscles tensed and I sprang forward. My hands planted on the roof of Anna’s car hard enough to make dents and then my hips swiveled, spinning my legs around in a circle as my right arm rose to make way.

The kick caught the vampire who’d been about to grab Anna across the side of the head. He fell back and down. “Shut the door!” I yelled at Anna as I slid down onto the asphalt. “Lock yourself in!”

She did as commanded as the bat got to his feet. He’d been no more than twenty when he died. He had the awkwardness of the newly dead, so he should be no trouble. He bared fully extended fangs and hissed at me. I hissed right back and it startled him for a moment. I guess he’d expected me to be just a brave human.

“Leave now and you don’t have to die.” I pulled both of my knives in a cross draw as I spoke. “You’re out of your league, kid.”

“Or maybe you’re out of yours … Celia. ”

Oh, fuck a duck.

Although I didn’t recognize the face, I sure recognized that voice … and the evil chuckle straight out of hell that followed.

Note the word “hell” in there, because that’s just what he was. While I’d never heard of a vampire hosting a greater demon, it’s not that big of a jump. There’s a reason why holy objects are a primary defense against both.

There’s a time when bantering with the bad guys is a good idea—it gives you a chance to think and plan. But the demon had a voice that could make my body react sexually and make my mind turn off. I’d barely escaped with my life and soul the last time.

“Come to me, Celia.” He turned on the voice and I felt it pulling at my stomach, right through my clothes and skin. But so no. Oh, I’d go forward all right, but not like he wanted.

I lunged forward, making sure to lower my head so he couldn’t get those fangs anywhere near my neck. I had no idea what would happen if I got bit again, and I couldn’t imagine that a demon inside the bat at the time would be a good thing.

I head-butted him in the stomach with every ounce of strength I could muster and simultaneously stabbed one knife toward his heart. He grabbed my arm and tried to pull the knife away. But I’d anticipated that. My goal was to put him off-balance and off-guard so that when he jerked away from my head butt he backed straight into the second knife waiting between his shoulder blades.

His eyes went wide and his mouth open in a soundless scream as the enchanted metal slid effortlessly into his heart. “Go back to hell, asshole.” I threw myself away, making sure to yank my second knife with me. “And stay there this time.”

The vamp slid bonelessly to the ground, unable to speak past the blue and gold flames that licked at him from the inside out. When Lilith had burned up from within, I’d thought it was a fluke. Apparently not, because this guy did the same. But while the vampire was burned to ash, it wouldn’t kill the demon. You can’t actually kill a greater demon. All I’d done was remove another link between him and this world. He’d have to find another portal. He’d made a mistake by choosing a new turn. I’d be watching now that I realized the demon was still trying to get to me. Especially for the next few days.

Because come hell, high water, or bats in the night … I was going to that wine debut.

13

The amazementin Dawna’s voice could be heard over the music and road noise: “I cannot believe you slammed the door on Jeffy Benson. He’s the hottest thing on the Billboard charts since Michael Jackson.”

My eyes flicked sideways just long enough to see the shocked expression that matched the voice before returning them to the road. “I told you I was serious about our vacation. I canceled two other jobs. Why is Benson any more special?”

Even Emma’s face became a study in amazement in the rearview mirror. “He’s … Jeffy Benson .”

“He already had four other bodyguards and two of them were former Raiders starters. Marlon Braverton was a Pro Bowl linebacker. I was staring him in the belly button. What did Benson need me for?”

“All that press has been doing you proud, girlfriend. You’re the bodyguard to have right now. Wait until you see all the appointments on your calendar when you get back.”

I struggled against the sudden tension that appeared between my shoulder blades. “That’s not exactly going to help me relax, Dawna.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point. So … what do you think about the flowers from Bruno?” There was both coyness and challenge in that question. She was digging for dirt.

I sighed, but a small part of me wanted to smile. As we were leaving for the resort, a deliveryman had arrived, holding a vase of what must have been two dozen red roses. They were beautiful. No, more than that—spectacular. But they also wouldn’t fit in the rental SUV, what with all our bags and my work trunk. I was bringing along a selection of weapons, sturdy boots, and a change of clothes. Because despite the best of plans, my life often sucked. The trunk was heavy steel with three kinds of locks. It would take at least two strong men to move it—or one petite woman with vampire strength. Dawna had tried to insist I leave it home.

In turn, I insisted she leave behind at least one of her three makeup cases. Emma broke the deadlock by suggesting I take the flowers to Gran’s to save them from the wear and tear of the long trip to the spa. It was a good solution except that now, as we drove to Gran’s, Emma was spitting leaves, because the arrangement really did take up about half of the backseat.

The Glades retirement center on Parker Road wasn’t a typical apartment complex. It was a combination of a high-rise nursing home and clustered groups of elegant assisted-living bungalows. There was the requisite golf course, site of an even higher-priced retirement community. There were pools, fountains, and gardens everywhere.

Gran was in the assisted-living cluster … not because she needed that much help but because she wanted to live among women she knew. Ahn Long, Dawna’s bá nôi , or paternal grandmother, lived there, and so did several members of Gran’s church group. Each of the connected single-story townhomes had two bedrooms and a small kitchen. Everything in the apartments could be easily navigated or reached by those using walkers or wheelchairs. Gran’s unit was much smaller than the house she’d lived in for so long, but she seemed happy there. As we walked up the smooth concrete sidewalks that snaked among the greenery, she greeted us with a smile.