Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom (38 page)

“You’re going to die tonight.”

“No, Kate. It’s you who will die. This part of me is sorry about that. I do like you. Once upon a time, I even liked working for
Forza
. But it was never about the work. Not for me.”

“Black arts,” I said, remembering. “You were studying the black arts. And Father Corletti never realized—”

“Don’t blame the priest,” he said. “I can be most persuasive when I want. Now, of course, I’m both persuasive and powerful.” He drew in a breath, his chest expanding. His skin seemed to ripple, like the surface of a pond, and beneath the ripples I saw the true demon, red and black and teeming with worms, its glowing eyes burning with hate.

I blinked, and the vision faded, the acrid smell of sulphur the only clue that it had been real.

Timmy smelled it, too, and started squirming in my arms as he whimpered. “Hush, baby,” I said. “It’s almost over.”

“Indeed,” Goramesh said. “Stay, Kate. Stay and watch.”

Since I had no intention of leaving without first laying waste to Goramesh, I stayed rooted to the spot, Timmy tight in my arms.

Goramesh moved away from the angel to stand on a relatively fresh grave. He spread his arms and looked down at the earth, then began to spew out Latin and Greek, his words coming too fast and furious for me to understand.

I didn’t need to understand the words, though, to figure out what was going on. That was clear enough. And when he tugged open the bag and reached in for a handful of powder, I tensed. I was too far away to do anything yet, but I put my hand in my back pocket anyway, just so the holy water would be at the ready.

He sprinkled the powder over his body, the incantation coming faster and faster. He reached the end, spreading his arms and shouting
“Resurge, mortue!”
That one, I knew. He was commanding the dead to rise.

I held my breath, waiting. The graves didn’t tremble. The dead didn’t rise.

I’d known they wouldn’t, and I couldn’t help but smile as I pushed Timmy gently behind me, the vial now in my hand.

“It’s over, Goramesh,” I said. “You’re history.”

“Little fool,” he spat. “What have you done?”

I didn’t answer. I knew he’d realize soon enough exactly what I’d done.

“Bitch!”
he howled, his face contorting in pain. I grinned. And so it began.

As I watched, his skin began to blister and his hair fell in clumps to the ground. He screamed, the sound coming straight from the bowels of Hell.

“What have you done?
What have you done to me?
”

“Not me,” I said. “The Blessed Mary Martinez, one of San Diablo’s five martyrs. May she soon reach sainthood.”

His skin bubbled and popped, and I gagged against the smell of sulphur. Mary wasn’t a saint yet, but she’d been beatified. I knew that her remains wouldn’t kill him, but he was in pain, and I hoped that gave me all the advantage I needed.

I opened the vial and lunged.

“Get her!” he cried, and Doug barreled into me. I fell to the ground with an
oof
, and the holy water vial went flying, shattering against a gravestone, but doing no harm to Doug or Larson. As Doug grappled for me, I lashed out with my legs, trying to pry the spry octogenarian off of me.

He clung fast, though, and I knew that Goramesh would recover soon and come help. Two against one—especially when a High Demon was part of the equation—was not good odds.

As Timmy’s screams rang in my ears, I twisted sideways, managing to get on top of Doug. He grappled for me, his clammy fingers brushing my neck. I dodged away, scrambling to grasp a nearby twig.

My fingers closed around it just as his hands closed around my neck. But it was too late. I knew I’d won, and I drove the twig home.

Doug sagged, and that was the end of that.

I leaped off of him, ready to tackle Goramesh, my fury fueling my confidence. My victory was short-lived. When I turned, I’d expected to see the demon. Instead, I saw my baby, Larson’s arm tight around his neck. The dust had finished its work, and now he was oozy and gross, but no longer distracted by the pain of burning flesh.

“You
fool
!” he shouted. “You think you can best me? You think you can
trick
me? This boy is going to die here, Kate. Bring me the bones and maybe I’ll bring him back for you.”

He shifted and I lunged, the reaction purely instinct. “No!” I cried, my voice thick with fear.

I’d barely closed the distance between us when Larson erupted with a guttural howl. Almost simultaneously I realized what had happened.

Timmy had bitten him
.

Larson jerked his arm up, releasing his hold on Tim as he struck out with his other hand, sending my baby flying. Timmy crashed to the ground, his little body going limp. I launched myself, tackling Larson with my full weight and sending us both sprawling. He managed to roll on top of me, and as he climbed to his feet, he grabbed my hair, smashing my metal hairclip against my skull as he yanked me to my feet. I winced, but my own pain evaporated when I realized Timmy still hadn’t moved. I drew in a strangled breath, fearing the worst. Larson took advantage, shoving me backward so that the small of my back slammed against the base of the angel statue. I screamed, jerking my leg up and trying to knee him as I twisted. I needed to get free, but his fingers had locked on my forearms like clamps.

He was strong. So strong. And try as I might, I couldn’t break free.

“He’s dead, Kate,” he hissed, his breath foul against my face.

“No.” I couldn’t believe that.
Wouldn’t
believe it.

He moved even closer. “Give me the bones, and I’ll bring him back for you.” His voice was calm, almost soothing. “You can have your baby back, Katie. You can have him alive again. Just bring me the bones.”

I was light-headed, unable to draw breath. He held on to my arms, but he might as well have been crushing my windpipe. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. Was my baby truly dead? And if so, did I have the strength to use the bones to bring him back? More important, did I have the strength
not
to?

I closed my eyes briefly, seeking strength.
“Never,”
I whispered. “I’ll never bring you the bones.”

His nostrils flared and rage filled his eyes. “Bitch! I’ll snap your neck and leave you here!” He leaned in closer, his mouth pressed against my ear. “And know this as life leaves you—I
will
raise the boy. And he will become one of mine. It’s over, Kate. And my victory will be even sweeter than I’d imagined.”

I struggled as my fear ratcheted up, but he held on, his grip unyielding. Terror clutched me just as tight, and I choked back a sob as fear and regret mixed together. I’d sworn I wouldn’t lose, but now I feared I’d made a promise I just couldn’t keep.

I sucked in air, trying to fill my lungs as my heart thrummed in my chest. Through the roaring in my ears, I heard the high-pitched wails of sirens.

Would Laura have called the police? Would Eddie have let her?

Goramesh heard them, too. “Time to end this, Hunter,” he said. “Wouldn’t want the police to discover my little secret, would we?”

He let go of my arm, then started to twist me around. I knew well enough what he was doing; he planned to break my neck.

“NO!” I screamed. I didn’t have any weapon, nothing with which I could take him out. So I did the only thing I could. I lashed upward, knocking his arm away from my neck. It worked. And in that split second I yanked the hair clip out of my hair, then thrust it forward.

It hit home, slipping through the demon’s eye like a hot knife through butter. He trembled, the air rippling over him and me, and then a sonic burst, like a jet breaking the sound barrier. The body fell, and I was thrown free, landing on my rump on top of the nearest grave, right next to Timmy.

The sirens were closer now, and I rolled over, breathing hard, terrified of finding the worst. I rolled my baby over and patted his little cheek. His eyelids fluttered. “Momma?” he said. I couldn’t answer. I could only hold him and cry.

It was over.

I was tired. So tired.

But I’d won. Goramesh was gone. Larson was dead.

And as my boy curled up next to me, I hugged him tight and closed my eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As it turns out,
Allie had called the cops. She hadn’t been able to find Eddie and Laura right away, so she’d dialed 911 (using the cell phone for exactly the purpose I’d told her she could) and then Stuart. By then, Laura and Eddie had found her, and they raced to the graveyard in Laura’s car, arriving just seconds after the police, with Stuart not far behind.

The paramedics took Timmy to the emergency room right away, where he received a clean bill of health. He had bad dreams the first few nights, but the hospital counselor says those will fade in time. Already, he’s sleeping through the night again, so I think my baby’s going to be just fine.

I spent the next few days nursing my wounds and talking with the police. I’d killed Larson and Doug, no doubt about that, but I was cleared quickly enough. Allie and Laura’s statements confirmed my story that Larson had kidnapped my kids and then he and Doug had tried to kill me. And when the police examined Larson’s car and found hair and other trace evidence in the trunk tying him to the disappearance of another Coastal Mists resident, that pretty much sealed Larson’s fate as a criminal.

After that, life returned pretty much to normal. There were a few changes, of course. Eddie was a permanent fixture at my house now, his bond with Allie having strengthened to the point of unbreakable. One day I’d tell her the truth. But not now. Not yet.

Laura and the girls are still taking self-defense classes with me. Laura swears it’s only to work off the calories from the desserts I keep feeding her as payment for services rendered, but I have a secret belief that she actually enjoys the exercise. Either that, or she likes watching Cutter move.

On the home front, Stuart is currently the most pampered husband on the planet. Guilt will do that. And when the guilt stems from having held the particularly vile belief that your husband is in cahoots with demons . . . well, the groveling and pampering can go on pretty much indefinitely.

As for me, I was still keeping secrets from my family, but what else could I do? I knew Goramesh would be back. His disappearance was only temporary, and that was a reality I had to learn to live with. There were still other demons in San Diablo, too. They’d infiltrated the nursing home, for one thing, and as much as I itched to tell Father Corletti to send another Hunter, I knew I wouldn’t make that call.

The truth? I’d taken on a responsibility when I’d become a Hunter so many years ago, and I couldn’t walk away from it now. Not when so many of the creatures were out walking the streets.

San Diablo needed a Hunter, and I was here. Out of practice, true, but I had Cutter and Eddie to help me. Besides, a hidden little part of me really does love the work.

And, when you get right down to it, what family doesn’t have one or two little secrets . . . ?