“HOLY SHIT, it’s freezing out here!” I bounced on my toes trying to keep the blood from icing up. My earlier excitement about going out was history as I pressed myself against the brick wall of a flower shop. It was closed and the security lights were on. I squinted at Mickey and rubbed my hands together. It was almost time to get moving. Damn, it’s cold! Still bouncing, I monitored the opposite corner and tried to spot our targets. I was watching for someone who looked like a dangerous criminal. Alex said they would look suspicious, and I would recognize them. Well, that wasn’t too helpful. Based on the general appearance of almost every man in my line of sight, I was surrounded. I peered more closely at two loitering closest to us.
“It’s in the eyes. Look at their eyes,” Dec advised quietly. He was supposed to be my instructor, and I was glad he was here. I leaned closer until I could feel his body heat. At least I wouldn’t freeze to death, though I could lose several important digits.
He was dressed in faded jeans and a heavy jacket, but I knew he didn’t really need it. He was trying to blend in. With his California blond hair and perpetual tan, he looked more like a tourist than I did. He was all business tonight though. He was in pure soldier-mode and wasn’t joking around at all. I missed his sunny smile. I sighed and checked my watch again.
“It’s time,” I announced.
He nodded and took my hand. We were meeting the others at Dump but had detoured to check out a lead. As far as I could tell, the lead was a dead end. I didn’t see anyone suspicious here. Dec’s eyes were constantly moving as he led us down one street and then another. As we rounded the last corner, I pinched his arm and nudged him to the left. A man stood in the shadow of a dumpster. He eased back out of the dim glow of the streetlight. He made no move to bother us, though. We kept walking like we knew where we were going. Just two people hitting the bar on the way home from work . . . Don’t mind us.
There were three more men standing in the shadows ahead of us. All of them were positioned so they could see a clear view of the alley and the bar. Sentries? That seemed likely. I forced my face to stay blank. I was starting to get a bad feeling about this. As we walked directly in front of one man, he followed us with dark eyes. I had a sudden urge to run into the bar, slamming the door behind me. The sharp pang of adrenaline made me clench my jaw.
Dec whispered, “Easy, darlin’. We’re okay.” He helped me down the icy steps into the stuffy warmth of Dump.
Sean and Killian were nowhere to be seen. It was pretty crowded so I did a second walk around to be sure. RockHard! was playing again, and Missy waved at me with a gorgeous smile. The crowd was helping with the chorus of an old Billy Idol song. Singing along too, I made my way to the wall opposite the door and found a clean-ish place to wait. Dec took his time wandering around the room as if he was looking for someone. Eventually he made it to my spot and pretended to watch the band.
“Was it this crowded last week? Do you recognize anyone?”
I considered the random groups of customers and answered, “Yeah, I recognize a lot of them. But the two young guys by the door and the skinhead by the bathroom are new.”
The door flew open, and two more men strode inside. Alarm bells clanged in my head. These two were definitely dangerous. They scanned the crowd with the intensity of a couple of predators. The taller of the two had a big crooked nose and deep set eyes that radiated impatience as he looked around. His thick black hair was slicked back. He reminded me of a mob enforcer from the movies. The shorter one had greasy red hair that he desperately combed across his head. He had mean piggy eyes that coldly assessed the room. Killers? Possibly. The redhead looked like a psychopath too.
The steady beat of drums brought me back to reality, and I smiled up at Dec as Missy spoke for women everywhere with her cover of Adele’s Rolling in the Deep. Under her spell, I sang along under my breath. I squawked in alarm a few minutes later when something hard pressed against my kidney and a familiar voice hissed in my ear.
“I could have killed you just now.” Sean spun me around, dragging me closer so he could lecture without everyone hearing. I was off balance and struggled to get my feet back on the floor. He pinned me with one arm, and I went rigid. Whispering furiously, he read me the riot act. Didn’t we just talk about danger? What was I thinking? I needed to focus on why we’re here. I needed to be aware of my front and my back; especially my back.
“I came right up to you and you didn’t even sense me. Any of these guys could slide a blade in you without anyone seeing a thing. You’d be dead in seconds. You’re not here to enjoy the band tonight, sweetheart!” He pressed his nose against mine during this last comment.
Furious, I aimed a knee at his crotch just as Dec intervened. He stopped my leg in mid-swing and plastered a smile on his face.
Between his teeth he asked, “Do you two idiots want to attract any more attention?” After playfully shoving our heads together, he ordered, “Kiss and make up. And you better make it convincing or we’re going to have more company than we can handle. Do it!”
To the general audience he shrugged, and said loudly, “My brother’s an asshole sometimes.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the skinhead watching us with a gleam in his eye. He nodded and started to get up. Self-preservation overrode my anger, and I threw my arms around Sean’s neck and pasted my mouth against his. Startled, he nearly dropped me so I wrapped my legs around his waist. I kissed him with such passion that he finally dragged his mouth away to breathe.
“Good God, woman! Are you trying to kill me?” The pain on his face was funny.
I forced a sappy smile and pressed my cheek against his pounding heart. It was satisfying to feel the effects of my efforts. I hoped he was suffering.
“I hope you enjoyed that. It might be the last one you get for a while.” I unwrapped myself and made a show of sliding down his body as I put my feet on the floor.
Killian chose that exact moment to spot us. Even from across the room, I could see the tightening of his mouth and the angry crease between his eyes. Maybe someone could just shoot me now?
“Is it not what I think this time?” he ground out as he glared at the two of us. To my surprise, Sean turned pink. Dec snickered before reminding us that we had work to do.
I scoped out my Mickey Mouse watch again. It was 10:00 pm—surely things should be happening by now? We’d been here for two hours and nothing. I was so tense my neck hurt again. The skinhead kept looking in our direction, and it was making me nervous. Worse, he kept staring at Sean. Something was wrong. I strained to hear the voices around us. I thought I’d heard something . . . There was something . . . strange. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was different. There was a new tension in the air. That dark sense of foreboding was back and skittering across every one of my nerve endings. I leaned up to tell Sean, but his attention was focused on something I couldn’t see.
Finally he hissed, “Fuck,” and uncoiled himself from his chair. “Stay put.”
I was left alone again. That strange feeling wouldn’t go away, and I wasn’t able to make sense of it. Instead, I got more tense and twitchy with nerves. I fondled my locket and chewed on my lip. Thankful for the gun hidden inside, I played with my purse strap.
What if this was all wrong? What if we didn’t have the right information? We could be sitting in a trap. We could all get killed. Why can’t I see anything? What good were psychic abilities if I couldn’t help anyone with them? I wish I knew more. As if on cue, the band started to play my absolutely least favorite song in the entire universe: Don’t Stop Believin’. I hate this song. Could things get any worse? As Missy belted out the first lines, I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. Really?
Just then a commotion by the bar drew my attention. Several men were arguing with Mob Guy and Red Hair. There were three against two. The music was too loud to hear words, but Mob Guy’s expression clearly said, “Bring it!”
Skinhead was halfway out of his seat as the two young guys I’d
seen earlier hustled over to join Mob Guy. Sean and Killian were on the opposite side, watching the fight start. Like the rest of the men, they kept out of it. Where’s Dec? I searched for him but didn’t see him. No one else seemed too interested in the fight, and the band kept playing. But the atmosphere changed when another man came through the door. Flanked by a creepy entourage, he projected an air of evil that stopped everyone’s conversations. That earlier feeling of dread smashed into me again. Oh, shit.
I hadn’t seen him come over, but Dec was now standing in front of me. Like Sean and Killian, he’d switched into full combat mode. Waves of heat flowed from him. I was afraid to look at his eyes. I started to take a step forward.
Stay back! It’s Xarchi. Killian’s warning slammed into my mind.
What about these people?
Stay out of it. His eyes locked to mine from across the room, and I backed up again.
The brawl started in earnest then. I tried to stay out of the way and watched from my wall. I wanted to see everything at once, but it was impossible. Mob Guy was punching some little black-haired thug in the face, while Red Hair was thrown over the flimsy bar. The impact shattered the top of the bar, and he fell to the floor in a crash of plywood. People scrambled to get out of the way and several people pushed out the doors. Beer bottles were flying everywhere. One woman ran screaming into the bathroom. The sentries came running in as soon as the screaming people made it outside. There was even more confusion now. One of the thugs pulled out a knife and was stalking Mob Guy. Another guy was getting his butt kicked by the bartender who hit him across the back with a glass beer pitcher and slammed his face into a table. Blood spurted out his nose. Gross.
As several more men, and a few women, joined in on both sides, the violence got worse. More knives glinted in the dim light as the bloodlust escalated. Blood splatters made the floor slippery, and a woman fell hard as she tried to run out the door. One of the demons grabbed her and tore off her arm. He grinned evilly at Sean as he tossed her arm aside like trash.
Oh, my God! Did he just rip that woman’s arm off? Everything I’d eaten today made a mad dash for an exit and I barely missed my shoes. The carnage continued.
Sean flashed his own feral smile and palmed a silver blade in his right hand. With his left, he gestured for the demon to come closer. The demon’s grin widened, and he lunged into Sean. With lightning fast reflexes, Sean sidestepped the lunge and whipped around with the knife extended. With a triumphant snarl, he buried the blade in the demon’s back. The high-pitched scream raised every hair on my body. With a final vicious shove, Sean jammed the blade up to its hilt. As the demon arced backwards, he pressed his boot against its back and shoved it off of the blade. The demon twitched for a second before turning to ash.
The band finally stopped playing and the grunts of pain and crash of chairs breaking echoed loudly in the silence. The fighting was spreading across the entire room now, and I had to duck a chair that someone threw. The chair landed in the middle of the drum set with a huge crash. Cymbals went flying. Barely missing Missy’s head, another chair tore a hole through one of the big speakers. Missy jumped up and ran over to me. She carried a small knife and palmed it. I loaded the Sig, and we waited, my heart threatening to burst through my chest. Two big bodies tumbled across a table and knocked Aiden and Jimmy, the bass player, onto the ground. That was the last straw.
Aiden swore, “Fuck it, I’m in!” The rest of the guys dove in too.
It was pure chaos. The humans were joyfully trying to kill each other with anything they could get their hands on. The demons were another story altogether. They knew exactly who the Primani were. They weren’t afraid but they warily approached Killian and Sean. Judging by their expressions, they knew what they were up against. Xarchi must be the meanest looking demon. His human facade was crumbling with his rage and his real features were showing through. The human skin seemed to melt away. He was covered with bloody red scales and had yellow reptilian eyes. He grinned at the screaming people and several sets of filthy fangs were clearly visible. My knees buckled. Holy shit!
He was the biggest and strongest, so Killian and Sean were both trying to stop him. They stood side by side with silver blades lifted. Dec was facing one of the lesser demons. The demon was trying to hit Dec with an arc of flames, but he kept missing. He didn’t realize Dec kept teleporting out of the way. Roaring with frustration, he began shooting fireballs everywhere. As a result, several people were burned, and the carpet was smoldering in one corner. Acrid white smoke started to fill the room.
I looked up to see one of the losers threatening me with a wicked-looking switchblade. I dodged behind a table and shoved it at his stomach. He feinted around to the other side and grabbed my arm. Reaching for anything, I broke a guitar over his face. Letting go of my arm, he fell back. Missy shouted a warning, and I looked up just in time to see him coming at me again. His face was dripping blood from several cuts and probably a broken nose. His eyes were murderous as he stalked me with the knife. I was backed into the corner. I wasn’t sure I could kick the knife out of his hands. I looked around wildly for a different weapon, but there was nothing. Resigned, I pointed the Sig and pulled the trigger. Several people stopped to look. Most didn’t. My attacker fell to his knees with an expression of surprise on his face. A bloody hand reached down and plucked a guitar pick out of his cheek.
“I can still use that,” Jimmy grunted. He jammed it into his pocket and went to help Aiden.
I gasped for some oxygen and looked for Sean. He was still battling Xarchi with Killian. I grimaced as I saw the burns. Both had been hit but were ignoring the pain. They were concentrating fiercely on their prey. They had him backed into a corner. What were they doing though? Xarchi was missing an arm and dripping black fluid all over the floor. He bellowed with rage and threw another fireball. Killian dove to the side and rolled to his feet. His back was to me so I couldn’t see what he did next, but he lifted his hand and a blinding light hit Xarchi in the chest. He doubled over with a roar. I strained to get a better view, when suddenly a body sent me flying into a speaker. That hurt—a lot. Groaning, I gingerly pulled myself up. The speaker was history. The body that hit me belonged to the bass player. He sat up and shook his head. He was bleeding from a deep gash above one eye, but the rest of his face was okay. He grinned at me, showing a missing front tooth. Oops, my bad, not completely okay.
A lot of the action was dying down now. Most of the human thugs had either killed each other or knocked each other senseless. There were bodies sprawled all over the place. A few people were still fighting though. I took a quick inventory. Dec had evidently destroyed his demon because it was gone and Dec was covered in ash. How did I miss that? He stood ready to jump in if Killian or Sean needed him.
Bleeding heavily from his nose, one of the guitarists swung the last usable pool stick across Skinhead’s head with a crack. The stick broke off and flew in two directions, and Skinhead fell over like a tree. Aiden staggered over to the wall and collapsed against it. He’d just ended his fight by slamming the guy’s head into the nearest wall. He was breathing hard but still amped up on adrenaline. He gave me an unfocused sort of happy nod. Geez, men were stupid! He sagged to his knees. That’s when I saw the blood. His black t-shirt was soaked, and it was dripping down his leg.
“I’m fine,” he protested.
“Oh, right.” I peeled up the sticky shirt to find a nice big gash in his side. It must’ve been some knife. He hadn’t even felt it. I hoped the other guy looked worse. I dragged my sweater over my head and used my t-shirt as a bandage. It was clean at least.
“Jimmy? Help me!” Maybe he could keep pressure on this for Aiden.
“Mica! Look out!” Dec yelled.
Startled, I looked up just in time to see the third demon getting ready to throw a fireball at me. I threw myself to the side just as it landed. The reek of sulfur hit me, but I wasn’t on fire. I took a look at my patient. He wasn’t on fire either. Good for
him. He had enough problems.
The demon wasn’t doing too well, though. While focused on me, he didn’t notice the drummer and Missy sneaking up on him. When he released the fireball, the drummer jammed a drumstick into his eye. Enraged, the demon bellowed, the sound echoing above the chaos. His nasty eye was dripping yellow fluid down his face. He spotted Missy just as she jumped up and kicked him in the back with a pretty impressive move. Both feet hit him, and he toppled onto his face. The drumstick went through the back of his head with a crunch. At the same time Missy kicked him, Dec jumped in and hit him with a fine blue light between the eyes. A split second after hitting the floor, the demon exploded in a cloud of ash.
Stunned, no one moved for a minute. Dec took charge. “Let’s move! Cops are on the way.”
“Dec, what about the band? Everything they own is trashed!” I felt really bad about the guitar I smashed.
“Don’t worry about that now. They’ll be okay. I’m going to see if there are any survivors. We need intel.”
I’d almost forgotten our original mission. We still needed to know what was going on with the demons and who was working with them. I hurried over to talk to what was left of RockHard!
They looked like combat survivors but were happy enough. Nothing like a good brawl to get the blood flowing . . . Aiden was awake but finally lying down. Jimmy was keeping pressure on the bandage. He probably had a broken nose, but the rest of him looked untouched. The drummer had a split lip and both hands were bloodied. I think one of his pinky fingers was broken. It stuck out at a right angle. Missy, like me, didn’t get hit in the face tonight. This was a new experience for me since I always get hit in the face. She was limping and had a couple of huge bruises on her arms. She was also liberally dusted with demon ash and it was already starting to burn. She was scratching at it.
“Go wash that shit off before it hurts you.”
Finally, I looked around for the Scottish dude. What happened to him? I didn’t see him and started to worry.
“Where’s kilt guy?” I asked Missy.
With a sigh, she gestured to the right. What on earth?
“Dude, what are you wearing?” He seemed to be wearing a . . . napkin? No—a tablecloth?
Moving stiffly, he joined the rest of us. I stifled a laugh. Missy snorted. I bit my lip. He was wrapped in a tablecloth, and he cradled something dark in his hand.
“What’s that?” I asked.
Instead of answering, he sadly held up the remains of his kilt. There weren’t a lot of remains. It was a very small kilt with lots of burned edges.
Chapter 23: An Assortment of Vows