The Trouble with Demons Read online

  But so far so good. Starting the car’s engine without a key was no problem. Would her uncle hear the garage door going up though? She didn’t know how light a sleeper he was, or if he could even hear the garage door from his bedroom on the other side of the house. She could, but that was because of her demon hearing.

  Taking a deep breath, she pushed the garage door button. The door rolled up, grinding all the way, shattering her nerves. She jumped into the car and stared at the stick shift. It wasn’t an automatic? She groaned. The only time she’d attempted to drive a stick shift, she nearly drove it into another car on a used car lot. Chill bumps trailed her arms from the memory.

  Then she spied a bicycle. Growling, she left the car and grabbed the bicycle. Some rescue job, and she still had no idea where the hospital was. Then she remembered how she’d talked to Hunter telepathically. Could he communicate the same way with her?

  "Hunter, I’m having trouble getting transportation."

  Silence ensued.

  She got onto the bicycle and rode down the quiet residential street. "Hunter, if you can hear me, I’m riding a bicycle and, well, I have no idea where the stupid hospital is."

  She cleared her throat. Normally resourceful, she wasn’t familiar with Dallas, and she feared any minute her uncle would wake and find her missing. It wouldn’t take long to find her, either, while she made her escape on a bicycle.

  "Hunter, can you communicate with me?"

  She guessed demons couldn’t communicate telepathically, that her witch’s genes gave her that gift. Yet, she assumed since he opened the portal when she called to him the first time, he could understand her, but couldn’t figure out how to speak to her in the same way. Or he was asleep or too sick to respond. The latter thought made her stomach clench.

  She rode the bicycle to the nearest service station a mile away and asked for directions. The attendant gave her a goofy grin. His long-spiked, blue streaked hair made him look as though he’d fallen out on the wrong side of bed and bruised his hair. “Sorry,” he said, “I just moved here and I don’t know the area.”

  “Do you have a local map?”

  He rummaged around in the map stand. “Nah, not one of the city. Got one of Texas though.”

  “I need a city map,” she ground out. "Hunter, I’m at…" She turned to the attendant. “Where is this service station located?”

  “Three-ten Garland Road.”

  She took a deep breath, hoping the next thing she said wouldn’t be the stupidest thing she’d ever done.

  ***

  Jared hovered over Hunter’s hospital bed. “Well, what did she say?”

  “She’s riding a bike and doesn’t know how to get here. Why doesn’t she have a phone?” Hunter had to acknowledge that she had escaped her summoners and was attempting to come to his aid. But on a bicycle? He growled under his breath. Why didn’t she just take Jared’s advice and ride with him?

  “Maybe she does have a cell phone, but you didn’t give her either of our cell numbers.” Jared shook his head. “So she’s lost in the city of Dallas on a bike. Really smart move. Should I add that to the data on Kubiteron demons? Not very bright?”

  “Shh, I’m still trying to tell her we’ll try to help her. But we don’t know all the roads to the hospital, nor how to guide her here without a map.” Kubiteron… He mentally chastised himself. At the very least he could have learned her name. Kubiteron, where is your present location? Can I have Jared meet you somewhere and pick you up?

  “Is it working? What are you saying?”

  “I asked her where she is and offered to have you pick her up. If we don’t get to her soon, I’m afraid her summoner will discover her missing.”

  “And?” Jared fisted his hands on his hips. “Any response?”

  “None. I think she doesn’t hear me. I don’t know how to communicate back to her.”

  "Hunter, tell Jared to pick me up at a service station at 310 Garland Road. Pronto. If he’s not here in twenty minutes, I’ll assume you can’t hear me, and we’ll have to make some other arrangements later."

  Immediately, Hunter’s whole being lifted despite being riddled with pain. “That’s it! She wants you to go to the service station at 310 Garland Road. You have twenty minutes. Hurry or she’ll leave.”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  “Virtually no traffic at this hour.”

  “Easy for you to say. Be right back.” Jared bolted out of the room. A nurse screamed, then scolded him for being here after visiting hours.

  Dressed in scrubs decorated in teddy bears, the nurse rushed in to see Hunter. He hoped he wasn’t in the pediatric ward.

  “I was afraid the boy had done something bad to you, the way he tore out of here.”

  Hunter feigned a yawn. “He fell asleep and when he woke, he realized his mother would be worried about him.”

  Not. They were on a world cruise and figured Jared was old enough, capable and responsible enough to take care of himself. Though sometimes Jared wished they’d be more concerned about him. Hunter shook his head. If they knew what he was really up to…

  The nurse checked Hunter’s pulse. “Way past visiting hours. I don’t remember him being in here.”

  “Probably took a bathroom break. I’ve been sleeping most of the time.”

  "Hunter, I hope you got my message. Seventeen minutes left on the stopwatch."

  Stopwatch? Since when did a lesser demon time him? He let his breath out in exasperation. Since he needed her help so badly.

  The nurse left him alone with his morbid thoughts. If the girl didn’t help him, he wouldn’t be responsible for how angry he could get. If he lived long enough.

  ***

  Pacing down the convenience store aisle, the combination of chocolate and brewing coffee scenting the air, Alana finally walked to one of the big glass windows and stared out at the dead street. She’d never felt so overwhelmingly frustrated in her life. Glancing at her watch, she found fifteen minutes had passed. Sixteen, sixteen and a half, sixteen and three-quarters. Any minute her uncle could arrive! She was only a mile from his house.

  The clerk turned up his hip-hop music and bounced around on his stool, giving her a lopsided grin.

  "Three minutes left, Hunter."

  A misty haze cloaked the area in a foggy gloom, overhead lights making the vapor even ghostlier. A rusted pickup pulled up to the station, and the clerk immediately lowered his music and sat alert.

  A dirty-looking guy with oily, long hair filled up the pump, while a slightly younger man with a chin full of whiskers sauntered into the store, real cool like. He looked her up and down like she was something on display. Curbing her annoyance, she reminded herself she’d taken her contacts out and didn’t want to show her real self to this clown.

  The guy leaned over the counter. “How’s about a pack of cigarettes.”

  The clerk sat up straighter. “Got some I.D.?”

  The greasy teen gave him a long, searing look, then one lip lifted, but his brown eyes remained flat. “You want to see some I.D.?”

  Alana didn’t like the tone of the guy’s voice, menacing, taunting, trouble.

  “He asked for I.D. You’re obviously too young to buy cigarettes,” Alana said, though she knew she should have let things go. No sense in stirring up trouble when she needed to get out of her pronto and help Hunter. Yet, she’d faced her share of bullies in school, and she knew the best way to deal with one, was to deal with him and never let him walk all over her.

  “Why don’t you just mind your own business?” he asked, whipping around. He reached underneath his jeans jacket. “Better yet, why don’t you come with us for a little ride?”

  “I have better things to do with my life, thank you very much.”

  “Okay, done being nice. I ain’t asking. I’m telling ya.” He jerked out a gun, and she didn’t hesitate to react.

  With a spell, she sent the weapon flying across the store. His mouth gaped wide.

  The clerk must hav
e hit a silent alarm because the sound of a siren headed their way. She had to get out of here now!

  The guy with the truck honked his horn, and the one in the store raced across the floor to get his gun. But when he reached where he thought it was, he couldn’t see it. Courtesy of a mind illusion spell. “Where did my gun go?”

  The truck honked several more times.

  The guy suddenly ran toward Alana and grabbed for her wrist, but she quickly put up her aggressive barrier, and he flew backwards into a rack of chips, hit his head, and slid to the floor dazed.

  “Wow, martial arts. Cool,” the clerk said.

  Yeah. Thank goodness she was so quick, he couldn’t see that she hadn’t used her hands and legs as death-defying weapons.

  The man from the pickup slammed his door and dashed for the store.

  “Lock the door. Hurry!” she said. But then she spied Jared pulling into the brightly lit service station in a neon yellow Jeep. “Wait! I see my ride.”

  “But the guy has a gun,” the clerk warned.

  “Can’t wait. Got to go.”

  She rushed to the door and bolted outside, but the man from the pickup seized her arm, his dirty nails digging into the skin. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she cast her propel spell and hurtled him all the way to his truck. He slammed his back into the pickup with an oof, and it made her back hurt just thinking about it. He landed on his butt and cursed.

  Jared pulled his Jeep into a parking space. His mouth hung wide, his eyes shifting from her to the pickup driver.

  Great, just great. No way did she want Jared to see her using any of her witch’s powers. Her attention shifted to her uncle’s bike. No place for it in the Jeep. Why couldn’t he have had more of a demon-sized vehicle? She figured Hunter would.

  She seized the door to the convenience store and jerked it open. “Can I leave my bicycle here for a few hours?”

  The clerk grinned. “Yeah, sure, lady. I’ll watch out for it. You bet.” He turned his music on louder and began dancing to the beat.

  Alana jumped into the Jeep and wrinkled her nose at the smell, like something was burning.

  “Leaking heater core,” he said, when he saw the expression on her face. “No time to fix it.”

  “Get a move on. You’re five minutes late.”

  Jared gave a short laugh. “Like you would notice when you were so busy beating up a guy.”

  “Yeah, well, if you’d been on time, you could have handled them for me like a good male demon should.”

  “Them?”

  She gave him a superior look, though deep inside she was chastising herself for making the slip. “The other’s taking a nap inside.”

  “I’m rethinking your demon type. I’m not at all sure you’re a Kubiteron.”

  Her heart took a dive. “Why not?” She hated hearing the doubt in his voice. Finally glad she might learn more about her demon side, the thought Jared didn’t truly know what she was gave her a fit of depression.

  He whipped out of the service station parking lot and headed down the street, passing the two police cars, their lights flashing, illuminating the night like a disco club. The lightweight Jeep didn’t have a lot of power but it felt like it was moving fast at least. But the way it was burning, she had serious doubts they’d make it.

  “Truthfully?” he asked.

  She took a deep breath. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t think there’s a name for your kind.”

  She glowered at him. If he hadn’t been driving, she would have slugged him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, except you don’t fit the pattern for any of the demons I have data on.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Maybe you’ve stereotyped us too much?”

  His mouth turned up a hair. “I should say I know of no demon that can do what you can. It has nothing to do with stereotyping. Who knows? Next, you could sprout wings.”

  “Like an angel.” She glanced out the window and was glad Jared seemed to know his way to the hospital.

  “More like a fire-breathing dragon. That would make you different from every demon also, which would have nothing to do with stereotyping.” Jared grew quiet, then finally let out his breath. “Can you save Hunter?”

  “You really like him, don’t you?” She couldn’t believe it. No lesser demon liked a Matusa. Unless he said so because he was too afraid Hunter would find out how he really felt.

  “What’s not to like?”

  She stole a look at the Elantus. “He’s a Matusa.”

  “He’s one of the good guys.”

  “Ha! Matusa come in all shades of bad. Not one of them is good.”

  “Well, I like him. So, can you save him?” His tone of voice came out more of a threat than a question.

  “Are you his slave?”

  “For the hundredth time, no!”

  Alana took a deep breath. If Hunter was truly some kind of oddity and had a good side, would he fight the Matusa from Baltimore if he came after her? He’d probably be the only one strong enough to fight a demon of his kind. But the idea of asking him rankled her. She never asked a stranger for help. And a Matusa? She hmpfed under her breath.

  “Will you?”

  “Why do you think I’ve tried to get to the hospital?”

  “To kill him.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Why would I kill him?”

  “You’re afraid of him.”

  “If we don’t fear them, we’re stupid.”

  “You’re right about the other Dark Ones.” He pulled into the hospital parking lot. “But know this, Kubiteron, if you try to hurt him, I will terminate you myself.”

  She smiled what she was sure looked pure evil. “You can try.” Climbing out of the Jeep, she added, “I thought the Elantus didn’t kill anyone.”

  “I lied.”

  ***

  As soon as Hunter heard her voice, he knew it was the Kubiteron. Though her voice had a sweet allure no matter the state of aggravation she was in, he could tell she was arguing with Jared. He’d hoped his friend would put her in a better mood, and she’d be more agreeable to help. But from the words the Kubiteron and Jared were having, they dashed any hope Hunter had that she’d be, well, gentle with him.

  When the girl stalked into the room, her green eyes were dagger sharp. She had no smile for him, and she appeared to be there strictly for business sake. Good, he had no desire to do anything more than get well, free her from her summoner enslavement, and send her packing to the demon world.

  “What about the nurses at the nurses’ station?” Hunter asked, worried they’d call security because no visitors were allowed at such an ungodly hour.

  Jared gave the girl a scathing glance. “The Kubiteron took care of it.”

  “Can we know your name?” Hunter asked, realizing how degrading it sounded to continue to call her by her demon type and not her given name.

  “No.” She moved in closer to the bed, her attention focused on his injury.

  Jared gave him a shrug. “She’s hostile? What can I say?”

  Hunter scowled at the impudence of the girl, then Jared’s earlier comment registered in his fever-fogged brain. “How did she take care of the nurses?”

  “Ask her. She does things no demon should. I’m rethinking that she might not be a Kubiteron after all, and she doesn’t like it.”

  “That she’s not a Kubiteron?”

  “No, that I’m having doubts she’s one.”

  Hunter frowned at Jared. Did he have to upset her before she tried to heal him?

  She ran her hand over Hunter’s arm, never touching, her lips moving, her words silent.

  Watching the care she took, her eyes glowing brighter green, her brow furrowed, he thought she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. “I have no doubt she’s one of them.”

  She stopped chanting and looked at him. “Why?”

  Jeez, now he had done it. Get back to the healing process, he wanted to comman
d her. But he figured it would have the opposite result. Demons worked that way.

  He cleared his throat. What could he say? The truth? That Kubiteron females were known for both their inner and outer beauty, more so than any other demon? Matusa demons often wanted to enslave them. He felt the same strong pull even though he fought it, but he couldn’t reveal this to her.

  Jared folded his arms and grinned at him. Yeah, Jared had told him the reason. So why was he now thinking she wasn’t a Kubiteron? Because she and he didn’t get along?

  “The other Matusa recognized you were one right away. So did I. So did Jared when he first saw you. We go by our first instincts. Everything else is a delusion. You’re a Kubiteron, but I’d still like to know your name.”

  She studied Hunter, then seemed to accept his word and went back to her chanting. She worked on his arm, moving up to his head. But she would not tell him her name! The fever seemed to abate some, though his blood was sizzling with annoyance that she would defy him. But once she went to work again on his arm, the fever raged out of control. He tried to calm his tension by tightening and loosening his muscles so that he could let her do her healing work, though he couldn’t help glowering at her through most of it. She was supposed to be a healer. Why couldn’t she heal him?

  After two hours, her eyes misted. “I’m sorry.”

  Sorry was not what he wanted to hear. He’d never seen a demon grow tearful, except the time he’d torn the one away from the summoner, and she’d wept real tears. “You can’t heal me.”

  He realized he was going to die. Not that he was afraid of death, but he feared leaving the humans alone to face Matusa demons on their own, especially his human family and Jared’s. They’d never survive.

  Slapping his fist into the palm of his hand, Jared paced across the floor. “We have to do something.”

  “Take her home.”

  Jared spun around and faced him. “No. She’s a healer. Some of what she did helped.”