Demon Hunt (16 page)

Houston sighed. “Her name is Pearl DeVere and she’s got to be about one hundred and thirty years old.”

Chapter Sixteen

“
I spent the morning staring at old photos of her,” Houston told them as he finally climbed out of the truck. “Along with photos of a girl who could be Rhi’s twin sister. The witch from Manitou Springs: Raven Blackthorne.”

Blackthorne.
Rhi’s mind numbed Houston’s words. She twisted her hands together and concentrated about things that made her happy. Hot coca, flannel sheets on a snowy night, the softness of Ellie Mae’s fur, good books, Jack Blackthorne’s gaze with the little crinkles in the corner that were deeper when he smiled at her – now where had that
idea come from?

“
I’m one hundred and twenty-
nine
, flyboy,” Pearl corrected. She tossed her curtain of auburn hair over one shoulder - a motion that had probably taken decades to perfect. “I’ve been in and out of this town forever and no one but a few well-chosen friends had the slightest clue who I am - until now.”

Houston looked abashed for a moment. “And I would have thought that you just had a stunning resemblance to Pearl DeVere, but the pointy teeth are a dead giveaway. I can’t figure out one thing, though. If you’re a vampire, how can you hold a cross?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m one of the good undead, sweetie. Things that maim the bad guys only annoy me. And, of course, I wore gloves. I also get chilly, so can we go inside before my undead toes fall off?”

“
Shouldn’t we be worried about those beasties showing up?” Pam nodded towards the quiet street.

Pearl looked offended. “Of course I’ve taken certain safeguards for my home, for goodness sake! Besides, Manius is done playing for the night. At least, he’s done playing with
us
.”

“
Well that’s good to know,” Pam muttered and made a face at Pearl’s retreating back.

The group filed after the vampire woman except for Rhi and Blackthorne. Pam glanced over her shoulder at the couple, grinned and shook her head at Houston. His expression said plainly that he was mentally debating about his chances if he tried to retrieve Rhi from Blackthorne’s clutches.

Traitor
,
does she want to see my sucked dry carcass?

“
You aren’t a modern day descendent of the knight I read about, are you?” Rhi asked Blackthorne the question in what she hoped were steady tones, staring at the large hand that held her arm in an unbreakable grip.

He moved close and she could feel the heat of his body. In the dimly lit garage, he was a predator towering above her, waiting for her to fall. “No.”

“
Are you going to eat me? I drink a lot of tequila and chocolate soda. I’ll bet I taste awful.”

He reached for her, pulling her body against his. Why was he so warm? If he were a vampire, shouldn’t he be cold?

Leaning towards her face, Blackthorne hesitated and then kissed her, crushing her mouth with his lips. His hands spanned the arch of her back, pulling her close.

Rhi couldn’t breathe or think. Her body moved on its own against the length of him, starting another fire. There were no thoughts of self-preservation or fear of the future. One other person in the world existed at that moment. An indescribable need forced its way through her veins.

A voice shrieked in the back of her brain to break free and run for the door. The voice got louder when she realized she could feel his sharper-than-a-human’s incisors rub her mouth every other movement. She tasted the blood on his lips from the earlier battle. The only reason she hadn’t tumbled to the floor was his arm holding her up.

He suddenly broke off the kiss and shoved her away. Rhi flopped to the concrete floor beside the truck to sit for a moment, stunned and gasping.

“
You taste okay to me.” Blackthorne yanked her up to hustle her towards the house, which was more brilliantly lighted than Rhi’s own mountain retreat. She put a hand to her swollen lips and wiped the single tear rolling down her cheek.

Then she got angry. “Yeah? Well, the next time you might think about retracting those fangs first.” She glared at him. “If I want to kiss an animal, I have a hundred and ten pound bloodhound at home that worships me.” She eyed the front of his jeans. Nope, he was too tall for her to get a good kick into his crotch. Her legs would have to be four feet long.

A moment later, she faced the glass-paneled front door with both a sense of wonder and fear. The ornate stained glass formed a large, stylized ‘P’ in each panel. A holly wreath entwined with grapevine encircled the initials. A quick glance told her every visible window on the house was still garlanded with holly and pine even though Christmas was well over. A deterrent? Maybe a visit to the local florist was in order.

A big hand reached around her to open the door and shoved her into the inner sanctum of the 130-year-old most famous madam west of the Mississippi. Rhi managed another glance back as Blackthorne pushed her in, picturing Ellie Mae’s anxious face waiting for her in her little fortress. For a split second, she gave up a silent prayer that Bobby Wayne would take care of her dog if she didn’t get home. Then Blackthorne shut the door behind them, closing out the night.

The group in the magnificent foyer stood silently as Rhi joined them. Pam’s face was as white as snow and her cheerful expression replaced with something resembling awe.

Rhi glanced about to see what had dismayed her friend. A huge portrait of a gold rush era couple dominated the wall beside the polished staircase. She registered the white wedding gown of the thin girl who stood proudly by the Victorian wing chair where her groom had been seated. Rhi squinted for a moment, her sight adjusting to the subdued lighting of the period Tiffany chandelier hanging near Blackthorne’s head. His handsome features looked even better as the painter had portrayed them in his nearby wedding portrait. The Blackthorne in the outsized picture wore a black suit of a bygone era, smiling beside the tiny bride who wore Rhi’s face, eyes and hair. Rhi managed a fleeting thought before the visions took over:
The next person who shows up in this town with supernatural powers is gonna get their ass kicked.

And then her sight was filled with blood, fountains of blood in the snow and the reek of a charnel house mixed with the scents of pine and gasoline. Shrieks of agony that held notes of death and damnation, sounded in the forest.

Rhi hit the floor with a thud, where she lay listening to her own babbling voice. “Dying, they’re dying in the woods, all of them are dying.” Blackthorne’s hands cradled her head and she could hear Pam’s frantic voice, then she saw nothing but blissful darkness.

Chapter Seventeen

Melon Evans pulled his beat up truck up behind the several other vehicles in an open area off of Four Mile Road. He maneuvered the snowmobile trailer attached to the hitch to an advantageous spot, where he unloaded his sparkling new toy. The top of the line snowmobile was his pride and joy - for the moment.

The party had begun without him since a small crowd stood off in the clearing near a roaring bonfire, passing around several bottles of generic peppermint schnapps. The growl of several snowmobiles could be heard in the background, the clearing crisscrossed with the track marks of some of the most righteous sleds in the Pikes Peak region.

After unloading the sleek black sled, he sauntered to the group near the fire, adjusting the various mismatched layers of fleece and down adorning his lanky body. He tucked a flask of bourbon into one of the pockets on his heavy camouflage pants, the makeshift snow gear sprayed with a fresh coat of waterproofing earlier in the day, pulled on over two pairs of thermal long johns. Melon was nothing if not innovative.

The visitation at the funeral home to pay his respects to Marie had been a spirit killer. But a few drinks and a spin on the fastest ride in town would put his soul to rights.

Dan Brown raised his chin at Melon’s approach in both challenge and greeting. Melon smirked and pulled out his flask for a swig. Dan ate his own liver in jealousy every night over the new sled parked behind them. “So, Dan - ready for a little action?”

Dan handed the bottle of bourbon he’d been sipping on to his girlfriend, Kim, and stalked towards his machine. As he walked, he pulled on the expensive gloves that coordinated with his black ski ensemble. Better suited for the slopes of Vail, his outfit did not fit into the scene of the backwoods of Teller County. “Let’s go, redneck,” he shot back over his shoulder. “Let’s see if you can do anything with that machine besides keep the thing clean and shiny. It’s a shame you couldn’t make the same effort with your clothes.”

Melon ignored the jibe meant to showcase Dan’s sophistication and winked at one of the better-looking girls in the group as he followed. She had some definite possibilities for the evening, if her skintight black ski pants told the right story. The pants weren’t heavy enough to keep the night air from making the girl’s legs numb. She’d need someone to warm those lean thighs up later.

The rest of the group busied themselves calling out encouragement and advice, plus two or three of them were making bets on the outcome of the race. Two others headed for their machines to take part in the race.

Melon mounted up, buttoning and fastening his clothing as tightly as possible against the cold. “We’ll go out to the five mile marker and back, Dan. Good enough for you?”

Dan grunted and gunned the two-cycle engine of his machine in reply. The only starting signal was the crunch of the endless treads into the snow and the flicker of the bonfire as they sped past the partying group, into the curtain of darkness running down the trail into the woods.

Melon felt the bite of the air around the edges of his goggles and strained to see outside the edges of the light cast onto the path by the headlights of the snowmobile. The trail was well-packed and the white glow of the snow in between the trees gave the landscape an eerie blue glow in the light of the stars. He zipped around the first of several sharp turns with Dan trying to take him on the inside and the others bringing up the rear. The adrenaline sang in his blood as Melon took the trail not by nibbles but by gulps. He flew but remained earthbound, leaning into the snowmobile, keeping his weight as low as possible for top speed, concentrating on the trail.

He didn’t notice the snow showed the outlines of moving forms, darting from bush to tree.

Large, bulging eyes glowing with red fire observed the lights of the retreating snowmobiles and turned towards the light of the bonfire and the shadows surrounding the clearing. Oversized nostrils took a brief sniff of the pungent scent of peppermint schnapps mixed with pot that floated in the air along with the sound of laughter.

* * * *

Back at the fire, Kim turned her back towards the heat and glanced out at the surrounding trees, brush and stones of the land. She gave her eyes a moment to adjust from the light of the fire to the glow of the snow. The shadowy form of a tall man stood in the snow watching her.

The long overcoat and turtleneck he wore marked him as an outsider. She caught the scent of expensive cologne the same moment she saw the flash of his white teeth against the backdrop of the night forest. He emanated an intense sexual vibe that sent chills down her back until she caught the first whiff of death in the air.
Damn it! Someone interesting shows up and something stinks around here!

Then she saw the first demon. The thing stood on a large, flat boulder beside the newcomer, outside of the circle of light. Long knifelike claws dangled from the smaller creature’s impossibly jointed hands. She froze as she questioned her sanity and wondered what kind of extras were added to the drugs and drink of the evening. The glowing red eyes of the naked winged creature stared back. Then it rose into the air beside its master, whose eyes now also glowed with blood red light. The demon floated towards her, suspended by its membranous wings and some unseen wind. The man started to laugh.

Trapped in a stupor of alcohol and smoke, Kim stood on the edge of the light and stared at the apparition as it approached. The creature’s slash of a mouth stretched into a grotesque grin, exposing huge pointed and stained teeth. One of the other women strolled out to where she stood to take up a place beside her.

“
What are you staring at so hard out there? Bigfoot?” Cathy stared over Kim’s shoulder into the woods. “Is that an escaped pit boss out there in the snow? Where did he come from? And what …”

Kim gave a short bark of hysterical laughter. “What I think is what I’m hallucinating is too little for Bigfoot. What did those freaks put in the pot?”

Cathy’s eyes adjusted enough for her to focus on what Kim stared at so intently. She managed a shrill squeak when the demon closed in and swung its claws at both women. Both headless bodies thudded to the ground with a wet crunch of snow. One of the heads, trailing long blonde hair, rolled into the larger group near the fire.

The snowmobiler closest to the head leaned down to examine the sodden lump. The sightless gaze and the scarlet stain in the snow told him too much and he leaped to his feet. A nightscape of glowing eyes surrounded them. Yells and shrieks filled the clearing when the eyes moved into the light. The bonfire grew to massive proportions and the screams for mercy rang out unanswered.