As she strolled down through the bins of used clothes, she spied a grey hoody with a cool winged design on the front. She checked the price – two dollars – and held it up against her to test the size. That works. A few bins later she found a black backpack. She loved her messenger bag, but it wasn’t doing the trick as everything ended up in a jumble at the bottom of the thing. That was annoying if she was hunting for her lip gloss. It was dangerous when she was fumbling for a Holy Water sphere to lob at a demon, especially when every second counted. Like I’ll ever be able to trap again. She pushed that gloomy thought aside.
Riley checked her wallet and bartered the price down to five bucks for both items. Once outside the shop there was no sign of Peter, so she moved her belongings from one pack to the other, including her father’s research into the history of Holy Water. As she held the sheaf of papers, it made her smile. No matter if he was reanimate or not, Paul Blackthorne would always be an academic.
At the bottom of her messenger bag she found the chamois pouch her witch friend Ayden had given her. She’d forgotten about that. Ayden had said she should put items into it that mattered to her. Right now it only held a little dirt from her father’s grave. Once everything was transferred to the new backpack, she folded up the messenger bag and crammed it inside. When she left Atlanta, she’d need both to carry her stuff.
Riley scanned the street again. There were no hunter vans, but now Peter King sat on a brick wall near a tattoo parlour, studying something on his cellphone. She crossed the street and sat about ten feet away from him. He shot her a quick look and went back to texting someone on his phone.
If her best friend didn’t recognize her, this whole magic thing might work.
Peter looked different too, scruffier and less nerdy, though nothing as dramatic as her transformation, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses, which suggested he’d finally got a pair of contacts. His brown hair was spikier now, something his mother never would have let him get away with. She’d moved out of the house and back to Illinois, leaving Peter’s dad in charge, and that seemed to have been a catalyst for a few changes.
Though she was eager to talk to him, Riley scouted the area again. Once she was reasonably sure her friend hadn’t been followed, she moved closer to him. Peter gave her a longer look this time and frowned. It had to be because of all her body jewellery.
‘Hi,’ she said, lowering her voice below what was normal for her. It made her sound like she had a cold.
‘Hi,’ he replied, then returned to his phone.
Score one for Mort.
‘Peter?’ she said in her usual voice. His eyes whipped back to her. ‘What do you think of the new Riley?’ she asked, teasingly.
His eyebrows shot up. ‘Whoa! Get out of here. Have you seen yourself in a mirror?’
She stuck out her tongue, knowing what he’d do next.
‘Oh, God,’ he said, grimacing. ‘You know I hate tongue studs. I can’t believe you got one. And your hair is awful.’
Riley laughed and moved closer to him. ‘It’s all magic. I have this bracelet that does it. I take it off and I’m me again.’
‘You’re joking, right? No, you’re not. So where have you been hiding?’
She leaned over and whispered the location in his ear.
‘He’s the necro who helped you with the magic?’ She nodded. ‘Well, it works.’ Peter frowned. ‘Is that a tattoo of a vampire bat on your neck?’
‘Yup. Admit it – it’s cool.’
‘Yeah, it is,’ he said grudgingly.
She did a quick look around. ‘I found my dad. He’s at Mort’s.’
‘Go you!’ Peter said, and they executed a High Five. Then he quickly sobered at what that really meant. ‘What’s he like now?’
‘He’s sorta like when you’ve been up all night cramming for a test. There’s moments of brilliance followed by long stretches of totally zoned.’
‘That sucks.’ Peter rose, stuffing his phone into a pocket, eager to be on the move. ‘Remind me never to get reanimated.’
‘That’s two of us, dude.’
Chapter Five
Riley grinned at the role reversal. ‘I could get used to this,’ she said as Peter wove his car between two horse-drawn carriages. ‘Usually I have to drive you around.’
Her friend looked over at her, made a face at her disguise and then returned his eyes to the road. ‘Dad said I can borrow the car as long as I put gas in it. Which means I won’t be taking it too often if I want a new computer this year.’
‘Parents are devious like that,’ Riley said. ‘They give you something with one hand and then take it back with the other.’
‘Why do the hunters want you?’
‘I’ll explain later.’
Peter gave her a worried look. ‘You never stall unless it’s something really bad.’
‘That would be right.’
Belatedly, Riley realized the car was not heading towards her apartment. ‘Hey, where are we going?’
‘To the Holy Water plant we checked out the other day. We need to do a stakeout and see what’s really going on in there.’
‘What? I’m a fugitive from justice,’ she replied. ‘I do not have time to babysit some idiot building. I need to get out of this town.’ Before I lose my nerve.
Peter shook his head. ‘That’s exactly what the hunters are counting on. They have to be watching every bus and train station. The airport too. And don’t even think about going to your apartment.’
‘I have to get my money. You know I can’t keep it in the bank, not with the debt collectors swarming around.’ Her mother’s death had left behind a sizeable loan for her medical care and now that Riley’s dad was dead she was the collectors’ prime target. If she put money in a bank account, they just siphoned it off.
‘If you run, they’ll just hunt you down like a rabid dog. You need leverage with these guys, something to bargain with, and if we can bust that scam that will be your ticket to freedom.’
‘But—’
‘I’m dead serious, Riley,’ he retorted, his voice rising. ‘Since you’re in my car, you’ll just have to deal.’
She never heard Peter so intense before, and that told her he wasn’t taking her anywhere he didn’t want to go.
I shouldn’t have called him. I should have just left town on my own.
‘We’ll do what we can at the plant,’ Peter said, quieter now. ‘If we’re lucky, we’ll get a break and then you can tell the hunters you busted the Holy Water scam.’
Which would be a big clue Riley wasn’t on Hell’s payroll.
The bogus Holy Water problem was a recent development. Someone was substituting tap water for the consecrated liquid. Good Holy Water allowed the trappers to capture Hellspawn, at least some of the smaller varieties. Bad Holy Water = dead trappers.
‘You’re not giving me a choice in this, are you?’
Peter shook his head. ‘Got to keep you off the streets.’
His friendship had always been rock solid. Would it survive once he knew about her and the angel?
It took time, but Peter eventually reached the recycling plant in East Point and parked the car in what looked to be as safe a location as any.
‘If this ride gets trashed, I am so dead,’ he said.
‘We’ll keep an eye on it somehow.’
Peter studied their surroundings. ‘That building looks to be the place,’ he said, pointing at a structure across the street from the recycling plant. It was abandoned, windows broken, the inside trashed. Perfect for their purposes.
‘Let’s check out the roof,’ he suggested.
Claiming their gear, they trudged over to find the fire escape was missing. That wasn’t unexpected: metal was worth money and, with so many out of work, scavenging a sizeable piece would be like finding a bag of cash on the street.
The sun was setting as they entered the building. The place reminded Riley of Master Harper’s shop after the Geo-Fiend had trashed it. The roof was inta
ct, but some of the interior walls had tumbled into heaps of broken bricks. Graffiti marked the ones that were still intact. As expected, the building stank of mould, dust and urine.
‘Somebody needs to do some housekeeping,’ Riley grumbled, nearly falling when a brick shifted under her foot. It seemed that every few feet there was another obstruction.
‘On second thoughts, this could be a bad idea,’ Peter said. ‘You saw all the needles and stuff, didn’t you?’
Riley had seen those and tried to ignore them, though that meant the local druggies used the place to do their business. ‘It’s the best location to watch the plant.’
‘Yeah, but it’s not the safest,’ he replied, no doubt trying to be the voice of reason. ‘Maybe we can find another place.’
‘No, it’ll do.’
They’d had to work together to shift a large timber that blocked the stairway before they headed up to the roof. After they’d passed the first landing, Peter turned back. ‘Hold on.’ He began moving junk back in place. ‘We don’t want anyone to know we’re up here.’
There were three flights and all were a gauntlet of debris. Finally, her friend shoved open the rickety wooden door to the roof. The floor underneath their feet felt solid, but they inched their way to the side closest to the plant with great care.
‘Well, that’s a good sign,’ Peter said. ‘No needles. That means the junkies don’t come up here.’
‘But the birds do,’ Riley said, scooping away bird droppings with the toe of her tennis shoe.
‘Birds I’m good with. Drugged-out crazies don’t do it for me.’
It took Peter a few minutes to line up exactly where he wanted to set up camp. From experience, Riley had learned to back off and let him do what he wanted. He had this organizational gene that had to be exercised every now and then. She’d never tell him, but she suspected it came from his mother’s side of the family.
Peter announced he’d found the perfect location and began to unpack his backpack and large black bag. First out was a piece of heavy-grade plastic like you’d use for painting your house. He spread that on the asphalt roof, then placed a heavy blanket on top of it. Out came a camera and a tripod, followed by a notebook, bottles of water, beef jerky, power bars and his phone.
‘You really are scaring me, dude,’ Riley said, making sure to smile while she said it. ‘Look at all this. You’d think you were sitting vigil in the graveyard or something.’
‘I doubt any necros are going to be bothering us tonight.’ He eyed her. ‘So what did you bring? Lip gloss and a hairbrush?’
Smirking, she unpacked the sandwiches Mort’s cook had made for her, along with an ample slice of chocolate cake. ‘You owe me an apology.’
‘Ohmigod, it’s a feast! OK, you’re forgiven.’ He looked up from the food and grimaced. ‘Your disguise is making my eyes bleed.’
The bracelet also sapped her energy. When she undid the snaps and set it aside, the relief was instant. That’s better.
Once they were settled, they each ate a sandwich and divided up the slice of the cake. He shared his beef jerky. Riley found she actually liked the stuff, and according to Peter there would be a side benefit – they wouldn’t have to pee as often, not with all the salt.
As each truck rolled up to the plant, Riley recorded the times and licence plate numbers in her friend’s notebook while Peter dutifully took pictures and video. Once the truck rumbled off, he would lean back against the short concrete wall and stuff his hands in his pockets to stay warm. After the third truck, Peter pinned his gaze on Riley.
‘In case you haven’t noticed, we are now on a stakeout across from the recycling plant. Time to tell me why the demon hunters have decided you’re Public Enemy Number One.’
Riley wasn’t sure how to start. ‘They’re after me . . .’ she began.
Silence. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
‘Because of Ori. I met him at the market. He said he was a freelance demon hunter trying to kill the Five that murdered my dad. He saved my life at the Tabernacle so I believed everything he told me.’
‘Is that the dude Simi was raving about?’
It appeared Riley’s friends had been talking about her social life. That was a bit unnerving. ‘Yeah, that’s him. Last night he killed a Five at Harper’s place and –’ She paused.
Peter knew some of what she was talking about when it came to the different kinds of demons, but not all the details. Demon trappers ranked Hellspawn according to cunning and their ability to kill. Grade One demons were nuisances while Grade Fives were so ferocious they could destroy whole cities It was important her friend understand exactly why she had come to trust Ori.
‘A Five is really dangerous. It creates earthquakes and windstorms. The demon that attacked us flattened Harper’s place. If Ori hadn’t come to our rescue, we’d both be dead.’
Her companion frowned. ‘Go on.’
She had to tell someone, and Peter was more like a brother than a friend.
Riley took a deep breath. ‘I met Ori at the cemetery later and we . . .’ Her voice hitched. ‘We spent the night together.’
‘Together like . . . together?’ Peter asked, his voice rising along with both eyebrows.
She swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’
‘I thought you’d never. . . ’ His voice trailed off.
‘No, not until last night.’ Just tell him all of it. ‘There’s something else. Ori’s an angel, wings and all. Honest.’
Her friend stared at her. ‘You went horizontal with an angel in a graveyard? Isn’t that like blasphemy or something?’ he spouted.
Riley’s cheeks burned in acute embarrassment. ‘Probably. After we . . . I found out he works for Lucifer. Ori’s a Fallen angel and he’s after my soul.’
Peter’s mouth fell open in shock.
‘Oh, and I got to talk to the Prince himself. He’s one spooky guy, that’s for sure.’
Peter’s brain reengaged. ‘You got hot and heavy with a fallen angel and then you chatted up the Prince of Hell?’
‘Yeah. I owe Lucifer a favour so he doesn’t let Ori kill everyone I love.’ Like you.
‘A favour,’ Peter said flatly, then swiped a palm across his chin. ‘What about the soul part?’ he asked, quieter now.
‘It’s still mine.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘Lucifer didn’t want it. He said I was better as a free agent, whatever that means. And I owe Heaven a favour too. That’s why Hell came after me.’
Peter pushed off from the roof and stalked a few feet away, his back to her now. ‘Please tell me this is all some kind of a sick joke.’
‘It’s the truth. All of it. That’s why hunters are after me.’
‘How did they find out?’ Peter asked, swivelling towards her now.
‘I think Beck ratted me out. I went to his house this morning and told him what had happened. He was furious, Peter. I’ve never seen anyone that angry.’
‘Duh! Now there’s a surprise,’ her friend replied sarcastically. ‘I saw the way he looked at you at your dad’s funeral. Of course he’d be mad. You’re about the only one on the planet who doesn’t realize how he feels about you.’
‘He never said anything,’ she retorted.
‘Hey, we guys don’t blurt out that kind of stuff,’ he replied. ‘It’s against the man code. Beck may never have said how he felt, but everything he did for you should have been a big clue. I mean, come on, how slow are you?’
She glowered at her friend. ‘I figured he was doing it because of my dad.’
‘Maybe, but the guy is really into you, Riley.’
‘No way. If he’d liked me, he wouldn’t have blown me off and—’
‘Ancient history, girl!’ he countered. ‘You were, what, fifteen? Your dad would have torn him apart if he’d touched you. Beck had no other choice.’
‘He didn’t have to be so mean.’
‘God, will you listen to yourself?’ Peter retorted.
‘You have no idea how much he hurt m
e.’
‘Give it up, will you? You’re my best friend, but you can be a real self-centred asshat sometimes.’
Ouch. That was the equivalent of a Peter backhand.
Riley blew out a long stream of air to gain control of her temper. Other than her parents, he was only other person who could get away with talking to her like that. Peter never lied to her, he never treated her like she was stupid, but he never cut her any slack, either.
Her friend returned to the blanket, so upset he kept popping his knuckles. When he ran out of fingers, he seemed to settle down.
‘What will the hunters do to you?’ he asked, quieter now.
‘I don’t know. Probably ask me a lot of questions.’ Or worse.
‘Beck wouldn’t have called them. That’s not his style.’
‘He’s never going to forgive me for what I did with the angel.’
‘He’ll still have your back.’
Riley doubted that. ‘Are you mad at me for what I did?’ That was really important to her. She’d lost about everything else. To have her best friend turn his back on her would be a mortal wound.
‘I’m not looking to date you,’ Peter replied. ‘How I feel about this is totally different.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
He tried to pop another knuckle, but failed. ‘I’m not mad at you.’
God, I like this guy so much. It was a pity they’d never found each other dating material.
Peter peered down at the recycling plant, then back at her. ‘I’m very worried about you,’ he said, his eyes revealing that concern went heart deep. ‘Too many things are going wrong in your life, Riley. I’m afraid I’m going lose you, one way or another.’
The tears came before she could stop them, surprising her. As she wept, Peter’s arms went round her and she laid her head on his shoulder, tears coursing down her cheeks, wetting his jacket.
‘I thought he loved me. I never would have . . .’
‘I know.’
She snuffled. ‘The deal I made with Heaven was for Simon’s life. That’s why he didn’t die.’
Peter took in a sharp breath. ‘Does he know that?’ he asked coolly.