“That’s true,” Ari admitted. “But in case she is in her car, I’m really worried what would happen if unsuspecting cops pull her over.”
“I asked for a locate only and warned them she’s armed and dangerous. Can’t tell them we’re looking for a demon. What would I say? Wanted: evil demon, who might look like your grandma or your uncle? This is too complicated. What do we do now? Wait until it kills again, somewhere else in the world?”
Ari could count on Ryan to get down to basics.
“I do not think it will go far from Riverdale,” Andreas said. “Not until the job is finished. Whatever his ultimate goal, I have been targeted twice. He will try again. Perhaps we can draw the creature to us at a time of our choosing, if I make myself available.”
“Set you up as bait?” Ari demanded. “I don’t think so.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Yeah. Anything else.”
“If we’re lucky, she’ll turn up,” Ryan said. “Let’s sit tight for a few hours before we start talking about luring this creature to anyone. Maybe we’ll come up with a better idea.”
“I’ll think of something,” she said. Anything would be better than making Andreas a target. She’d try scrying again. Ari could use something that belonged to Binderman, like the letter opener. If the demon thought it was safe in a new hidey-hole or with a new disguise, it might get over-confident, allowing her to locate it.
“Suits me,” Andreas said. “If she is not found before tomorrow, we can talk again as soon as I wake. The demon will surface again. Assuming Sebastian or someone like him is its employer, even a demon would be wise not to back out on his deal. Arianna, I will see you in an hour or two, after I have dispensed with a small favor.”
* * *
An hour had gone by, and Ari had not heard from Andreas. She had finished straightening her apartment and completed the potion, dividing it into two vials. She considered taking a nap, but if she fell asleep, Andreas would probably leave again. Besides, she was too tense for a nap. Her witch senses were in a flap, aided and abetted by the enormous amount of caffeine she’d consumed. Her skin shimmered with raw energy.
She flopped on the couch, wondering how long Andreas would be. Since he hadn’t actually told her what he was doing for Shale, the “small favor” might take longer than he thought, or he could be caught up in club business. His hour or two might be any time before dawn.
She stretched her arms, unable to shake off her unease, that looming sense of doom, generated by the demon. Andreas had to be right, the creature wasn’t far away. More than that, she had a gut feeling, a cop instinct, that something was wrong with their conclusions. How could she have liked Amelia Binderman so much? Had the demon messed with her mind? Shale or Stanley would have been acceptable suspects. She didn’t like either of them, but Binderman? Her witch senses hadn’t picked up any power from the woman. When this was over, she’d have a talk with Moriana. Ari had to get better at detecting demonic beings. Even on a human level, none of the woman’s actions had been overly suspicious, until she’d run. She appeared to be just a nice lady who loved her job and enjoyed Fourth of July picnics.
And then it hit her, just as the phone rang. “Thank the goddess you called,” she blurted. “It isn’t Binderman.”
“How’d you know?”
Wrong voice. “Ryan. I thought you were Andreas. Amelia Binderman isn’t the demon.”
“Yeah, I know that. State cops stopped her along the interstate to Chicago. She was going home because she lied about her prior employment on her resume. How did you know?”
“I didn’t know anything about that, but it was the picnic. Binderman was with Amy when they went to the restroom. She was never alone. That means she couldn’t have killed Jules. I’m calling Andreas on the other phone. He was talking about some meeting with Shale. Not a good idea, until we know who the demon really is.”
“Holy shit, Ari. Stop him,” Ryan said sharply. “I just got Shale’s death certificate from California. He died eighteen months ago. Shale is the demon!”
Ari’s gut clenched as Andreas’s cell went to phone mail. “He’s not answering. Maybe he’s still at the club and can’t hear with all the noise.” She punched speed dial and waited, holding a phone at each ear. Her heart pounded, witch senses brought to full alert by a sudden rush of fear. She urged someone to pick up, all the while thinking Andreas would be blind-sided by the demon. He was walking into an ambush.
Marcus’s voice came on the line. “Club Dintero. How may I—”
“Where’s Andreas?”
“Ari? He’s not here. What’s wrong?”
“Is he meeting Shale? Where?”
“At the agency, I think. About some newbie. Do you need help with the demon?” Marcus sounded puzzled over the panic in Ari’s voice.
“Shale is the demon. He’ll kill Andreas!” She broke the connection. “Shale’s office,” she yelled into the other phone. “I’m on my way.”
Ari grabbed the vials of potion and her silver dagger as she raced out the door. The next five blocks took a million years.
Chapter Eighteen
Ari banged on the door. The agency appeared deserted. Blinds drawn, lights off. Where the hell was the night staff? A closed sign on the door hung unevenly on its string support. Breaking the front window to gain entrance, she charged across the waiting area and into the large main room. All the office doors were closed, but a light glowed under the door to Shale’s conference room. A thud shook the floor, followed by a clatter of breaking furniture, and Ari sprinted toward the sound, vaulting over a couch. Otherworld magic sizzled in the air. The sounds of a battle were distinct now. She grabbed the conference room door and tore it open.
Raw, unleashed power nearly knocked her to her knees. The stench of evil hit her, as nauseating as rotten eggs. Snarling, clawing, fangs and pointed teeth flashing, the vampire and the demon were locked in combat. Ari edged in and flattened against the wall, throwing her arms out to steady herself against the swirling winds of energy. The combatants spun in dizzying motion, each grasping for the advantage and desperate to shake the hold of the other. Blood splashed the walls and floor. Ari’s nostrils flared.
As she stared at the battle, her face contorted in dismay. She’d spent two days preparing to confront this thing in human form. Wasted days. For the creature was in full demon glory, seven feet of fiery red evil. Her heart plummeted. The binding spell was useless. If they weren’t moving so fast, the banishing potion might do the trick. She would have to cover the demon with as much magical liquid as possible. A direct hit. Impossible as they spun around the room.
When Andreas yanked free of the creatures’ claws for a brief instant, Ari cringed at the amount of blood dripping from a deep sword slash across his back. An ambush injury. The weapon lay on the floor.
She started toward the demon, but Andreas charged in and re-engaged, continuing their deadly dance at lightning speeds, no more than spiraling blurs. Inseparably locked, the combatants offered no opportunity for her to intervene. Nor could she physically compete in the horror occurring before her. She dodged around the room, staying out of contact, peering, crouching, thinking frantically, uncertain how to tip the scales. When she darted in to kick the demon sword out of reach, blood splashed across her face, but at least the Shale creature wouldn’t be using the sword again.
She’d have to use the potion. Even if she made a lucky toss, she’d get them both, and what would the potion do to Andreas? Were vampires demonic creatures? She once thought so. Now she believed differently—but was she willing to bet Andreas’s life on that belief? Dammit, this was no time for a theological dispute. If she was wrong, Andreas would die from her actions. Ari wasn’t sure she could live with that.
In the second or two she debated, a change in fortune sent Andreas hurtling across the room. His body crashed against the wall, shattered debris in every direction, and fell among the rubble. Ari swallowed a scream. As the devil’s sp
awn whipped its head toward her, its eyes glowing with the fires of hell, she sent crimson witch fire arcing across the room. The demon blinked out of reach, throwing its head back and laughing. She fired another bolt with a similar result. The potion was her only chance, but not from this distance. She must lure the creature to her side.
The demon continued to laugh, a screeching, grating noise like crunching bones. It crossed its arms over its chest and looked down its long, spiny nose. It was a very arrogant, human-like stance for a hellborn son of Satan. The creature grinned, exposing sharp spikes dripping with Andreas’s blood. She closed her mind against the sight.
“How unworthy, Ariaaaanna.” The demon drew out her name, tasting it, a predator smelling its prey. “Surely a guardian witch can do better. You shouldn’t have come here. I might have been willing to let you live, for a while. But, here you are. I can crush you with one finger, you know, but perhaps you’d prefer a demonstration of real magical fire. No? I agree, something more inventive is needed. Mmm, I think you will earn me a nice bonus. If a little chaos and a few undead exterminations are worth so much, what do you think Prince Sebastian would pay to be rid of a troublesome Guardian?”
While the demon contemplated her fate, Ari’s mind raced, some of her jumbled thoughts inconsequential. Like Sebastian’s name. What did it matter now? The demon wouldn’t be gloating if it thought she’d survive to use the information. It was odd that this thing talked as if it knew her. It bore no resemblance to the form she knew as Harold Shale. It was the material of nightmares. If her witch fire was useless, how did she alone fight a nightmare?
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement that gave her a sliver of hope. Andreas stirred. An arm, then a leg. If she could keep the demon’s attention on her…
“If you think I’m so easily defeated,” she said, “come and try. Hand to hand, your strength against mine.” She moved to her right so the creature’s line of sight would follow her. She hoped to buy Andreas time to recover—if he could. And, if the demon was unwise enough to come close, she would drench him with her little vials of surprise.
“You’re much too eager,” it said. “What do you have in your hand, witch? A weapon? Holy water? Nothing will work. You are no match for Chzebar. Yes, I freely give you my name,” the demon bragged with another laugh. “Behold, your destroyer. Your vampire lover lies dead, and you will soon follow. That was your mistake, you know. Love makes you weak, vulnerable. It delivered you into my hands without my trying.”
Stifling a chill, Ari took another step to her right to keep his focus. Andreas’s leg moved. “Is that how you chose the others? Lovers bother you? Or is it jealousy?” Ari didn’t care what she said, she was only talking to keep his attention. Anything that would annoy him was preferable. “Are you upset that no one loves you? Or even likes you?”
“Why the chatter, Guardian? Hoping for rescue?”
“If I’m going to die, I’d like to know what this was all about. Why you hate vampires so much.”
Chzebar was disdainful. “I don’t hate them any more or any less than other beings.”
Andreas was on one knee. His head came up.
“Then what’s the point of all this?” Ari demanded, lifting her empty hand in an all-encompassing wave. She edged farther from Andreas, the demon turning to keep her in sight.
“You know the answer. Money, dear Arianna, and all that lovely violence. A pity there was so little shedding of blood.” The demon frowned, or at least that’s what she thought it was doing with the eye scrunching and the odd twist of its nose. “Daron’s vampires have become too tame. War would have been such fun.” Chzebar’s eye sockets flared with a brighter, burning red. “It can’t be helped. I’m afraid that was your last question.”
As Chzebar spoke, Andreas charged, catching him by surprise. The demon roared with fury. The sound rattled the building, as they went down in a tangle of arms and legs and a lashing demon tail. Andreas barely missed an attempt to sink his fangs in the demon’s neck. As he flipped over the creature's head, he was crushed in a bear hug, and their clenched bodies crashed into the conference table, chairs, and walls. Each fought to land the killing blow. Ari darted around the edge of combat, following their movements, waiting for an opportunity to do something. Anything.
Andreas’s strength quickly began to fade. His movements slowed, the demons’ claws more frequently caught him on a shoulder or arm. He was bleeding freely. Ari couldn’t afford to wait. There was no guarantee of the potion’s benign effects on Andreas, but if she didn’t act soon, he’d be dead anyway. The floor was slick with his blood. Time had run out. She made a decision and asked Andreas to do the one thing he said he wouldn’t. And she risked his life by asking. “Hold him!” she yelled.
With all the noise of battle, he gave no sign of hearing her. She slipped in the blood, nearly falling, endangering the precious bottles. With one hand supporting her against the wall, she threw months of fear to the wind. She lowered her mental defenses and projected her thoughts and an image of the demon pinned to the floor. Her magic reached out to his. If the link was real, Andreas would know what to do. Then, she’d find out if trust went both ways.
An instant later, Andreas used the last of his strength to wrap his legs around the demon’s legs, and they crashed to the floor in a heap. Ari leaped forward and hurled the potion, both vials, at the tangled forms.
“Begone, Chzebar!”
A loud explosion and hissing erupted on impact. The room flashed a brilliant red. The force threw Ari off her feet. She landed hard, sliding across the floor, wet with blood, until she smacked against the wall. A pungent, smoky steam filled the air. Batting the fumes away, she peered through the mist. A lone form lay on the floor.
“Andreas.” The word was more a prayer than a certainty. Unable to regain footing on the slippery surface, she struggled to her knees and crawled toward the still figure. She reached out her hand, confirming his identity, and pulled Andreas’s head into her lap. For one awful moment of déjà vu from Yana’s death, she waited, searching for a spark of his magical energy.
This time she found it, and his eyes fluttered open. “Am I still alive?” he asked.
“As alive as you’re going to be.”
Ryan burst through the door, gun in hand, followed by Lilith, Russell and Marcus. Grim-faced, they were ready for action. Ryan looked around in confusion. “What a mess! Is everybody all right? Where’s Shale?”
Ari gave a short laugh. “We’re just peachy.” She jerked her chin toward the vampire in her arms. “He’s lost a lot of blood, but the demon is gone.”
Russell was already on his knees next to his boss, examining the injuries.
“Gone? He’s escaped? You should have waited for backup,” Ryan said. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“Not a scratch. I’m afraid the demon wasn’t in a waiting mood, but he’s gone for good. The potion worked.”
“Thank God.” Ryan squatted beside Andreas. “What can we do for him?”
“He needs blood. The wounds are slowly closing, but he’s already lost too much blood.” Ari felt how low his energy was. He was too weak to block her out, and he was fading.
Andreas surprised her by asking, “Are you volunteering as a donor, little witch?” A faint smile touched his lips, but his lashes had fallen closed. He needed an infusion soon. Ari might have to consider a donation.
“I was thinking more along the lines of the blood bank,” was what she said.
“Hmm. That would be my second choice.”
“So, do we call the paramedics or what?” Ryan asked, getting back to his feet. He looked uncomfortable with their conversation.
“Not necessary,” Marcus said. “Got it covered. Help is on the way.”
As if on cue, two vampires hurried in the door carrying bags of blood and a rather large IV. Ari was relieved to see them. Andreas had fallen silent. She shifted her arms, so they could hook him up, but didn’t move his head. As soon as the bl
ood began to flow, her witch senses detected a difference.
Ari looked up and nodded to reassure the would-be rescuers, and then the questions started. She brought them up to speed on the events of the last hours, while keeping one eye on the vampire, waiting for a clear sign he was out of danger. She kept the information about Sebastian to herself until Andreas was aware enough to hear the damaging admission. Ten minutes and two bags of blood later, she knew he was faking the weakness that kept his head pillowed in her lap.
“Okay, sleeping beauty, time to wake up.” She nudged his shoulder.
“You must have the wrong fairy tale,” he murmured. “I am sure that one required a kiss.”
“You are clearly delirious.”
His eyes snapped open, and his hand caught her wrist. “I do not think so. Your magic spoke to me, showed me what you needed.”
“I was shouting at you.”
“Inside my head,” he insisted. “This is the second time.”
Ari sighed, giving up the pretense. “Yeah, I guess it happened again. We need to talk sometime. In private.”
“For so many reasons,” he murmured, watching her face.
She gave him a cheeky grin and slid out from under his head. As she scrambled to her feet, she realized their private words had been the center of group interest. Lilith in particular had an interested smirk on her face.
“Well, are you just going to stand there?” Ari asked.
Since no one had anything to say, it was fortunate Andreas chose that moment to sit up. To Ari’s relief, it diverted their attention.
“You can really recover that quickly?” Ryan demanded. When the vampire nodded, the cop muttered, “That must come in handy.” Then he got back to business. “So, what happened before Ari arrived?”