The Dark-Hunters (490 page)

He liked watching them.

Simone gave Jesse another warning stare before he seriously got her in trouble. Though she loved him, she hated when he did this. She didn’t like to ignore him, but she didn’t want anyone to think her insane, either.

Turning away from Jesse so as not to encourage him, Simone followed the woman toward the back, then paused as she saw the shoes in the middle of the store on shelves attached to the walls. Most were pretty funky, including a pair of clear stilettos with nine-inch heels. But one pair of black biker boots with skulls and crossbones for buckles caught her eye.

A slow smile curved her lips as she knew the one person who could do them justice. “Xypher?”

“Yes?”

She pointed to the boots. “Would you wear those?”

The grin that question caused was absolutely wicked. And for once, it wasn’t mocking. It was a look of pure pleasure and it warmed her all the way through. Damn, that man was gorgeous.

Clearing her throat, she called the clerk back to where they stood. “We’ll take a pair of those.”

The clerk laughed. “I just love it whenever friends of Simi come in. You guys shop like demons.”

Simone cast a sideways glance at Xypher, who passed a guilty look to her. The woman was half right.

Before long, they’d picked out clothes, underwear, and accessories for Mr. Fine But Obnoxious.

Simone had to bite back a whimper when she handed over her credit card. Even though she had a lot of money, it wasn’t like her to spend it shopping, especially for a temporary guest. But she couldn’t have him walking around for three weeks naked, either. Then again, he would be hot, but they’d both get arrested.

At least that was her thought until she caught an unguarded expression of joy on Xypher’s face as he stroked the sleeve of his new jacket. It was obvious he’d never been given anything like it before.

Yeah, that made it worth it.

Smiling, she glanced toward the wall behind the clerk’s head. A rack of scarves hung there. Her smile widened at one in particular. “Excuse me,” she said to the clerk, “let me get that scarf behind the counter, too.”

The clerk picked up the black one with a white skull and crossbones on it. “This one?”

“Yes, please.”

As soon as it was rung up, Simone took it from the counter, pulled the tag off, and wrapped it around Xypher’s neck.

“What are you doing?” The suspicion in his eyes actually burned her.

“It’ll keep your neck warm outside.”

Xypher didn’t speak as she tucked the ends of the scarf in his jacket, then zipped it closed. It was such a tender gesture of caring that it brought a foreign ache to his chest. He didn’t like the sensation of it. “I’m not a child.”

She laughed. “Trust me, babe, that has not escaped my attention.”

He frowned at her playful words. “Are you teasing me?”

“Yes.”

Teasing … no one had ever done that before. At least not playfully. He looked at Jesse.

“Teee-zeeeen,” Jesse said, elongating the word. “It means…” Scowling, he paused. “Well, hell, I don’t know what it means. It’s when someone, you know, teases you.”

Grinding his teeth, Xypher popped him on the back of his head.

“Ow! Dang, I forgot you could do that.” Jesse stepped closer to Simone.

When Xypher started to pursue him, Simone stepped between them and handed him the bags of clothes. “We’re leaving now,” she said in an exaggerated tone. “Thank the nice lady for her help.”

The clerk laughed. “You’re definitely welcome. You two have a good night.”

Before Xypher could respond, Simone lightly pushed him toward the door. He followed after her grudgingly.

Was she insane for coming between them? He couldn’t fathom anyone putting their life in danger for a ghost. Especially not a silly one like Jesse.

Simone paused outside to give them both a chiding glare. “You two are going to get me into so much trouble one day. Can you not behave?”

Jesse huffed. “He started it.”

Simone held her hand up in frustration. “Not another word!”

Xypher turned and zapped Jesse so hard, his hair started smoking.

Simone grabbed his arm to protect Jesse, who was now whimpering.

Xypher’s eyes flared as if he were about to fry her, too.

“Diplomatic immunity,” she said, holding up the bracelet to remind him that he couldn’t kill her so long as she wore it.

“You’d do well to remember that won’t last forever.”

“But it’ll last long enough to get you to leave Jesse alone.”

He growled threateningly. Luckily, though, he turned his back to Jesse and started down the sidewalk.

Relieved that she had them both quelled, Simone had barely taken a step when her phone rang again. “Hello?”

It was Tate.

“We’ve got another homicide … just like Gloria. Can you get your butt over here and take a look at it while the cops are still investigating the scene?”

“Of course. Where are you?”

She didn’t hear his answer as two police cars went screaming by, headed toward the other side of the French Market. There was an urgency about them that set off her sixth sense.

“Oh, wait, let me guess,” she said after they passed. “You’re at North Peters.”

“Heard that, huh?”

“To the depths of my now deaf soul.” She watched the cars turn. “I think I’m only about four blocks from you. Be right there.”

It didn’t take them long to cut across the street and find the police … and a small crowd that had gathered to watch and comment or speculate. Simone pulled her wallet out of her back pocket to flash the first officer she reached. Even though she carried a purse, she always put her wallet in her back pocket—a force of habit after she’d had her purse stolen several years before.

He wrinkled his nose at her ID. “Meat Division. I don’t envy you guys.”

She smiled at him. “It’s okay, I don’t envy you, either. At least the people I take into custody don’t try to kill me.”

“Good point.” He lifted the tape so that she could bend and go under it.

“He’s with me,” she said before he could stop Xypher.

“It’s okay, Ryan,” Tate shouted as he headed toward them. “We need them on this one.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.”

Simone stepped back to introduce them to each other. “Tate, this is Xypher, my current paranormal dilemma.”

Laughing, Tate offered his hand to Xypher. “I’ve never met a Dream-Hunter before.”

Xypher shook it. “Sure you have. You just don’t remember it,” he said with an evil glint in his eye.

Tate shook his head. “That’s not comforting.”

“My kind seldom are.” No missing the ominous tone in those words.

“Xypher is very much in the hair-raising scare’em crew,” Simone explained.

Tate led them toward the victim who waited under a black tarp. “I can see that. And I’ll make a note to stay on his good side. Last thing I need are any more nightmares in my sleep.”

Simone couldn’t agree more. “I think Xypher lives for nightmares.”

Tate snorted. “In that case, he’s going to feel right at home.”

“Why?”

Tate indicated the body on the ground at their feet. “Just like Gloria. Same wounds. Same MO. No blood. Drained and dropped. Only difference is this one seemed to fight back.”

“She must—”

“He,” Tate corrected.

Simone frowned. That would debunk the serial killer idea. “He?”

Tate lifted the tarp to show her a Caucasian male in his mid-twenties who was lying faceup, staring blankly at nothing at all. His face was contorted, frozen by the horror that had taken his life.

Simone winced as a wave of sympathetic pain went through her. She hated this part of her job most. That feeling of seeing someone as a killer had left them. The sick dread that clamped her stomach tight. But the worst was the firsthand knowledge of how the family would react to this tragedy.

“We have to find this asshole and stop him,” she said between clenched teeth.

“Yeah,” Tate agreed.

Xypher set his bags down before he approached the body to examine it.

“Careful,” Tate warned. “Don’t touch the body. We don’t want to destroy any evidence. We have to find the perp and bring him to justice immediately.”

Xypher leaned over to carefully study the neck wound. “That’s going to be hard.”

“How so?”

“It’s a demon kill.”

“What?” she and Tate said simultaneously.

Xypher sat back on his haunches to look up at them. “A human didn’t do this.”

That didn’t make any sense to her. “Daimons don’t—”

“Not Daimon.
Demon.
” Xypher indicated the marks on the neck that were identical to Gloria’s attack. “This is a Sumerian Dimme attack.”

“Dimme?” Tate repeated. “What the hell is a Dimme?”

Xypher rose to his feet. “That’s how I ended up here. I helped to fight them in Las Vegas. During the battle, one of the Dimme escaped and to my knowledge no one could find it. I think you just did.”

Tate appeared as ill as Simone felt. “How the hell did it get here?”

Xypher shrugged. “There has to be something that called it here. An artifact, a person. Something. Otherwise it would have stayed close to the cocoon where its sisters are still trapped.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tate asked.

“No, human. I don’t know shit about this. I’m just rattling off randomness to confuse you.”

Simone sighed. “I should have warned you about his sarcasm. It makes being around him a total joy.”

Tate ignored her statement as he glanced around the dark street. “Can you find his ghost, Sim?”

“He hasn’t popped in.”

Xypher crossed his arms over his chest. “He won’t have a ghost.”

Simone cocked her head at his deadpan words. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a Dimme kill. They usually suck everything out of a human. Lock, stock, and barrel. And, for the record, you’ll need to destroy the body since their kills reanimate a few hours after death.”

Simone exchanged a sick look with Tate.

“Gloria,” Tate whispered. “That’s why her body got up.”

Simone scowled as she thought about that. “Then why did we see Gloria’s ghost?”

Xypher shrugged. “The Dimme must not have finished eating the soul. It happens sometimes. The soul gets trapped and eventually withers and dies.”

Tate cursed. “So then how do we track and kill this thing?”

Xypher’s expression was one of pure evil. “You don’t. It tracks and kills you.”

FIVE

Tate shivered before he led them a couple of steps away from the body and from where two detectives were talking. The last thing they needed was to have one of them overhear this particular discussion.

He gave Xypher a cutting grimace. “I’m getting all warm and fuzzy inside at the prospect of these demon things roaming the street, preying on us. Just how many of them are we talking anyway?”

Xypher was completely nonchalant about the terror they were facing. “There are seven of them in existence. Only one has escaped to the human realm.”

Tate locked gazes with Simone. “I love the way he says ‘human realm.’”

Yeah, so did she. “I don’t know. I’m still stuck on the ‘they hunt and kill us’ part. And the ‘dead walking.’ I don’t think I like that.”

Tate snorted. “You and Nialls. I’m sure he’s still having a swell time over it. Poor guy. No one’s ever going to believe he’s not crazy…” By the expression on his face it was obvious he was having a there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I moment.

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Tate turned his attention back to Xypher. “What does the Dimme want? Why is it killing people?”

Xypher shrugged. “Basic demons are interesting in that they don’t usually want anything. They just are. You get in the demon’s way, you die. If it has to feed and you’re on the menu, it eats you. Simple, really. They’re not big on playing games or having ulterior motives.”

Cursing, Tate moved them even farther away from the body as a photographer came forward to take pictures. “Things don’t kill just to kill. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does,” Xypher said dryly. “Demons were created to be weapons or tools of various entities. You have the Charonte who served the Atlanteans … Actually, they were one of the few demon races that weren’t always subservient. Until they were defeated and enslaved, they were the masters of the earth. Then there are the gallu, who were created to fight the Charonte, and the Dimme, who were made so that if the Sumerian pantheon was destroyed and its gallu with it, they would essentially eat the world and avenge their dead masters. It’s what makes the solitary Dimme so dangerous. All she knows is how to kill.” Xypher cast a meaningful glance toward the dead man on the ground.

Tate didn’t appear to be digesting this news well. “Are there other demons in the world?”

Xypher nodded. “Every culture has its own set of demons. But the ones I mentioned are the ones you’re dealing with over this matter.” Xypher inclined his head toward the body. “It’s possible a gallu attacked him. But generally the gallu are a little more circumspect. They know to dispose of the body after they kill it or they keep the body to use for some purpose—like a zombie. Such as to draw out an adversary or to troll for more victims. They learned a long time ago that a zombie usually returns to its family. If they follow the zombie back, they have more food.”

Tate groaned as if that knowledge pained him. “You sure?”

“Unless they’re renegades. Or neophytes. Which is what the Dimme would be. She would be lost in the modern world and would be trying to find her own kind. The Dimme and gallu have a hive mentality. They don’t like to function independently. So whether it’s gallu or Dimme, it’s roaming the streets looking for others of its kind and food … which would be human in nature.”

Again, Tate cursed. “How long has she been out?”

“A few weeks.”

“And she’s just now feeding?”

Xypher laughed bitterly. “She had to get here from Vegas. I imagine there are other victims along the way.”

Tate exchanged a disgusted look with Simone. “So how is it you know so much about demons anyway?” he asked.

Xypher’s eyes flared to a bright, flickering red. “I am one.”