Demon Hunt (30 page)

“
They got what they came here for, Bobby Wayne,” she whispered. She knelt for a few moments beside Blackthorne, not daring to look to see if he was breathing.

After a few minutes, a moan from the knight caught her attention. Hope flared and she opened her eyes. The monstrous burns on his torso made her want to throw up.

Pam returned to crouch beside her and examine his wounds. “Houston’s dead.” The blunt words hurt.

Businesslike, Pam ran her thin hands over Blackthorne’s body, checking for broken bones and being careful not to touch the gaping burns. “So’s my cousin, Greg, and the housekeeper Rosa.” She rocked back on her heels. “Blackthorne looks worse than he is, Rhi. No major organs are in too much trouble, which I figure is about the only way to kill these guys … my parents made it to the barn when that thing hit. Dad was able to get his guns out of the rack in the back of his truck. It’s the reason they’re alive. But we didn’t make a dent in the demons. They disappeared into the ground as soon as that monster flew away with Katie.” Her voice didn’t break when saying her daughter’s name. She was strong, sure and deadly. “What do we do next?”

Another moan escaped the unconscious man as one of the more jagged cuts across one of his thigh knitted together. Hurriedly, Rhi ripped the heavy fabric of his fatigues leg to keep the cloth from being healed into the new scar.

“
We carry our wounded and dead out of here and get ready. Mourn later,” replied Rhi, her eyes fixed on Blackthorne’s slack features as she loosened the rest of his clothing. “We can’t call anyone for help and we can’t let anyone know what happened here other than a bad fire, Pam.”

“
The ‘balance’/end-of-the-world factor you mentioned?”

“
Yeah, something like that. Take care of it, okay? Get Pearl to help you. I might be out of my head for a few hours,” she replied. She sat beside Blackthorne, cross-legged, and took his head into her lap. Absently, Rhi ran her fingers through his hair, and the hideous wounds from the dragon fire slowly, miraculously healed. “Empty out Cripple Creek, except for whoever is willing and open-minded enough to fight, Pam. You have to do this for me. I won’t be able to, I will be - changing.”

Pam’s face cleared as comprehension dawned. Rhi breathed a small sigh of relief. She needed her friend to function right now.

Manius Black took Katie to force her to give him the skull. Unfortunately for the fallen knight, Rhi was now going to give it to him. But to put the fix in on this gamble, she would have to become a changeling and the Raven part of her soul knew what it could possibly cost.

Rhi hesitated for a second to say goodbye to her humanity, to having children, to living a normal life with a normal man and dying in her own time and not one in a far distant era. Would she go to Hell for this?

Screw it, she was there already.

The vein in Jack Blackthorne’s throat pulsed under her touch. His face was serene in the dim light of the smoke and cloud ridden morning. She yanked the Bible from the pocket of her jacket and handed it to Pam. “Keep an eye on this thing for me. I might not be able to watch it as closely as I’d like.”

Pam nodded, tucking the book inside what was left of her own jacket and buttoning it up. Bobby Wayne reappeared to take up a guard position between Pearl and the couple beside the battered pickup. Rhi bent over her lover’s neck and, ignoring Pearl’s sudden call of alarm, bit deeply.

“
What is she doing?”

She could hear Bobby Wayne’s shout fading and then she heard nothing but Blackthorne’s pulse in her ears. It was a strong beat that got louder as she drank. And drank. His blood was as hot as lava and as cold as permafrost. She gagged but forced herself to continue to drink, choking down as much as her stomach could hold. Her veins burned, the heat threatening to burst out of her skin.

If stealing the ‘gift’ from Blackthorne didn’t kill her, they might all live long enough to make it through the weekend.

Chapter Thirty

Katie had tired of screaming. Jaded from watching too much television, she had gotten bored with the ride in the dragon’s claws. When the roof of the farmhouse had been ripped off above her head, the little girl had been alternating between napping and watching the Wiggles on television in her upstairs bedroom. She was snatched out of her pink bed sheets before she could open her mouth or grab her stuffed elephant to cling to for comfort.

The sight of the shrieking housekeeper’s fiery fate as she stood in the doorway of the little girl’s room had been concealed from the child by the confining grip of the dragon. Katie had also missed the sacking of the ranch and the death of her cousin, Greg, a deputy from Eagle County visiting his relatives. He had died in a storm of flames while covering the escape of Colonel Douglas and his wife from the house. The wounded colonel had been busy dragging his screaming wife behind him as she tried to break free to chase after her granddaughter.

Amazingly calm, Katie now amused herself by watching the swirling shapes formed by the morning clouds. The dragon flew above the concealing mists, into the mountains from the smoking plain. As her captor descended, Katie could see the giant stone house her mother had always called The Castle, a brooding fortress right out of one of the nastier cartoons she managed to sneak a peek at when her mother wasn’t looking.

As light as a snowflake, the dragon touched down in the front courtyard of the great stone house and deposited his tiny prisoner onto her feet on the flagstones. It took to the air as a thin man emerged from one of the 10-foot-tall front doors of the house and sidled towards Katie. His walk resembled the movements of one of the snakes her mother sometimes pointed out to her on their hikes through the woods. His face held a strange mixture of anger, self-loathing and sorrow, which twisted his features into a grimace.

“
Bye, bye!” Katie turned and waved at the dragon as it swooped in the air and disappeared behind the crest of the nearest mountain. “Stinky old dragon.”

Away from the heat of the beast that carried her into the mountains, Katie felt the chill of the day. She examined the pearl buttons of her sweater, deciding if she was going to try to fasten them. Giving up on the buttons, she examined her surroundings as she waited for the strange man to get to her. She wiped at her pink corduroys and sweater, attempting to get some of the ashes off of her clothes.

“
Where’s my mommy?” she demanded, turning her rosebud face up to him as he reached her.

“
She’s on her way, young lady, you can count on that,” the man replied with a wry grin. “I’m Troy and I’ll take care of you until then, okay? Now, let’s get you some clean clothes and breakfast, shall we?”

“
But I already
had
breakfast,” the child objected. She then leaned towards him and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “And then I rode on a
dragon.”

“
I know,” he whispered back. “And dragon riding takes a lot out of little girls, I’m sure. We’ll get you some more breakfast. Then we’ll go see your room. I made up a special room for you. There are toys and TV and books. But you must be very
quiet, okay? The master needs his sleep and he’ll be a bit cranky if we wake him.”

She considered that for a moment.

“
Like my mommy after working a lot?”

“
Exactly.”

She held her arms up to the man as he reached out. “I’m Katie.”

* * * *

Troy thoughtfully looked down at the handful of pink and gold in his arms as he went into the house. The child’s velvet blue eyes got as big as dinner plates at the sight of one of the smaller demons sitting on a sideboard in the hall across from the dining salon. It was eating God-only-knew what and dropping pieces on the clean floor. The demon’s lax behavior scared Troy. It was a sign his master was losing control of them. Troy wondered for a moment if the chef was still alive in his kitchen haven.

“
Is that a monster, Mr. Troy?” She asked the question in a tiny voice, showing him the first sign of discomfort. Trust Pam Douglas to have a kid with the constitution of a NAVY Seal.

Troy considered his answer. He had to keep the child secluded from Manius, who was likely to become irritated at the slightest sound from the girl and feed on her to shut her up. And Katie Douglas was not just a hostage to lure Rhi Brennan to the Gate, but also Troy’s insurance in case things went south for his master. It was not likely that the other Blackthorne brother would forgive him for his previous bad acts unless the little girl was unspoiled and as little traumatized as he could manage under the circumstances.

“
Yes, it is a monster, Katie, and there are a bunch of them in this house,” he replied. “You can never leave your room unless you’re with me or they will eat you up.”

Fear crept into the child’s face and she clung to him as he carried her through the halls. Horrid little faces peeped out at them from behind furniture and curtains. Scurrying sounds could be heard and claws scrambling across the polished stone floors. Katie buried her face in his sweater.

“
But they can’t come in your room, okay?” he told her as he maneuvered to open the door to the room he had prepared next to his for Pam Douglas’s daughter. They were greeted by the sight of an elegant, turn of the century bedroom decorated in several shades of yellow and gold. A fire burned in the grate, cutting the lingering chill of the courtyard and the television already blared in an opened armoire in the corner. Stuffed animals and books were scattered throughout the room and a monstrous pile of little girl’s clothing lay on the bed. A silver tray, loaded with pastries and fruit, sat on the ottoman. Troy hesitated for a moment. The chef had been banished to the kitchens and his rooms for days to prevent his demise-by-hungry-demon and Troy had been delivering the foodstuffs to his master. He hadn’t brought up the tray. He deposited the child on the ground, where she stood as near to his leg as she could get. The little girl examined the room’s contents, searching for more monsters.

“
Enough food for a week and enough clothes for a year, not two days, but then, he is nothing if not a shop-a-holic,” Troy muttered.

A figure rose from the wingback facing the television. “Of course I’m a shop-a-holic, my dear boy. Now …” Manius crouched down to be eye-to-eye with his new guest. He had dressed in a velvet smoking jacket and silk pajamas embroidered with tiny gold bees on a black background. “Hello, Katie.”

Still wary, the little girl eyed him. “Hi. Do you know when my mommy is coming? She sent a dragon to get me, you know.”

“
A dragon, you say? How marvelous!” Manius cannily smiled.

Troy struggled to conceal a shudder. What was the game this time? Why was he bothering to charm the child?

“
Your mommy is delayed but I am sure we’ll see her tomorrow night, darling. Until then we will have to amuse ourselves as best we can.” Manius picked up the little girl and carried her to his chair in front of the television. “Do you like the Home Shopping Network?”

“
Nope. Cartoons?” Katie hopped out his arms to examine the tray of goodies. “And milk. No soda pop.” She pointed at the offending cans on the tray.

Troy braced himself. He was not sure he could watch Manius feed on the little girl and maintain his sanity.

Manius raised an eyebrow. “You heard her, Troy. Get her some milk.” He sat back down and picked up the remote with a sigh. “Cartoons it is.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Her own face, thinner, paler and weaker stared back.

“
Only one pure of intent can open or close the gate. And the portal must be closed from the other side.”

“
From the other side?” Rhi opened her eyes to see the familiar field of white lace topping the bed in the Pearl DeVere’s guestroom, which seemed to belong to Rhi. Maybe it always had.

“
Rhi?” His voice was within a foot of her. Crap. “What did you say?”

“
I said that it hurts inside,” she managed to reply, clutching her stomach. Technically, she wasn’t lying. It
did
hurt on the inside but she also carefully shielded her thoughts in case a stray piece of her unrelenting horror pulled free.
Closed from the inside. Uh, right.

Rhi suspected that her stomach had been ground for hamburger and her joints were on fire. She could barely turn her head to examine the man who again sat nearby, his sock feet propped on the bed. He was dressed in jeans and a heather-colored sweatshirt. The dreadful, gaping burns that marked him earlier didn’t appear to be troubling him.

“
Alive?”

“
Barely. How come I’m the one who gets to pass out every five minutes in this scenario? I think it’s your turn or Pam’s,” she retorted. Her voice sounded terrible, reduced to a painful croak. “Pam. Houston. Oh my God, Pam.” She struggled to get up but couldn’t manage to wedge an arm underneath herself to lift up her body. Ellie Mae’s head popped up over the side of the bed to nuzzle her leg, the dog’s tail wagging. Rhi tried to check the animal for wounds but gave up as her pet, satisfied that her mistress was alright, turned to trot out the bedroom door and pad down the hall on the oriental runner. Ellie Mae was right at home in Pearl’s house, Rhi decided, watching the animal go.