Demon's Doorway (2 page)

They stopped side by side at the front door.

"Okay. This should be fun."

*****

Don Summers stole a look at Sara's legs as she kicked off her shoes in the foyer in front of him. Smiling, he removed his tie and took satisfaction in the fact that he didn't have to
steal
looks anymore, although it would be a hard habit to break. Laura was gone, and Sara was his. He would make her his in the bedroom, very soon. She was supposed to have a meeting, but that got moved, and the night was theirs. Dinner, wine, and sex, possibly not in that order.

He placed his coat on the back of the chair, not taking an eye off her. Sara stood in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, holding onto the arch for balance. With her other hand she massaged the back of her calves, and Don could feel the heat under his belt.

He couldn't stop looking at her. He couldn't stop looking at her that late night at the office, when Laura was with her sick mother in the hospital. He couldn't stop looking at her before work, when they would meet up early. He couldn't stop looking at her that fateful day when Laura finally pushed him into a corner, and he had no choice but to fight his way out.

Sara turned the TV on before stepping into the kitchen. The news was on, and gave yet another update on the boy that had gone missing from the Smithsonian during a school field trip. It was merely background noise as he watched his Sara in the kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine.

"How hungry are you?" Sara asked. "Something light? Maybe order out?"

"I'm actually very hungry." His intention was clear in his tone.

She looked at him, having no trouble picking up his meaning. Giving him a flirty wink, she turned her back to him, making sure he had a good view of her from behind.

"I know what's on your mind," she said.

"Well, it's kind of hard to think about anything else, when you look the way you do."

Sara turned and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, but didn't give him a show. She was a tease, and knew it drove Don crazy.

"So, do you like what you see?"

"I would if you opened that blouse up a little."

"Come over here and make me."

Don took a step forward. He stopped in his tracks as soon as his foot left the foyer and touched the carpet. Sara had distracted him, but all at once the feeling of dread flooded back.

Sara was immediately forgotten as he studied the house around him. Everything was right where he left it before he went to work that morning. The chairs, the couch, the miscellaneous junk on the coffee table. Sara didn't visit enough to notice, but that wasn't always the case. The night before, while taking a shower, the toilet flushed by itself. He would hear whispers in his ear while trying to sleep. The back door would mysteriously be open when he went into the kitchen. More often than he cared to admit, he constantly thought he was seeing things. Shadows, movement out of the corner of his eye. He'd turn to look, and nothing was there. He'd jolted awake from many dreams, certain something was in the room with him.

"Hey," Sara said, running a hand along his cheek. "Are you okay?"

Don jumped at her closeness. He didn't even see her move across the room to approach him. Sara was an excellent distraction. An excellent, sexy distraction. But over the last few months, the fear of his own home grew more and more, even with her present.

"I'm fine. Sorry. Just daydreaming there, about what I'm gonna do to you."

Sara didn't smile. She wasn't buying it. Her look was of genuine concern.

"I'm fine," he repeated, more forcefully. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her into him, and she let out a startled cry. He pulled her skirt up, feeling her bare legs. "All mine."

His lips met hers. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she moaned into his. She was reaching for his belt when a knock came at the door. Don jumped, and his face turned red from embarrassment. He'd heard enough strange noises in the house to put him on edge.

"Shit," he muttered.

Sara laughed, pushing him away and straightening her clothes. Don frowned when she buttoned her blouse.

"You expecting company?" she asked.

"No. But…would you be up for some company?"

"You can barely please me half the time, Don. Let's not make it harder than it already is."

Don regained his composure as he approached the door. "Bitch."

He swung open the door to see a man, probably in his mid-twenties. Don didn't recognize him, and had no idea why the stranger was standing at his doorstep. It looked like he spent time at the gym. Not overly muscular, but a tone, lean build. Short brown hair, boring blue eyes.

"Hi. Are you Don? Don Summers?"

"I am. What's this about?"

"I need to speak to you."

"Well, speak to me tomorrow. I'm kind of in the middle of something."

Don went to shut the door, but the man shoved his foot in the jamb just in time. Don narrowed his eyes in rage as he looked through the gap in the door at the asshole interrupting his sex.

"Who the hell do you—?"

"Don, I
need
to talk to you. My name's Alex. I know your house is haunted."

*****

Alex studied what he could of the house as Don closed the door behind him. He could see clear through the dining room into the kitchen, with the living room to his right. One of those
open concept
homes that Cindy was always talking about. A set of stairs in front of him led to the second floor. The house was neat and clean, with no pictures of Laura in sight. The fake mourning period must have passed.

He waved politely to Sara as she poked her head from the kitchen. She waved back, and crossed the dining room to make herself known.

"I'm Alex," he said. "I won't take up too much of your time. I just have to talk to Don here for a few minutes."

Sara smiled. "Certainly. Is this a private thing?"

"Yes," Don said quickly. "It's work."

She was confused, but simply shrugged. "Okay. I'll be in the kitchen, getting us some take-out."

Alex and Don both watched her leave, for different reasons. Don simply had lust in his eyes, his eyes traveling her body. Alex had to wonder about Sara. From the many conversations Laura and he had, Sara was completely oblivious to what happened in the house she now walked through. He simply couldn't wrap his head around that. What could Don have possibly told her to make her believe that their affair was okay? Or was it something they told themselves? Was she truly in love, and it was blinding her? Alex had a dark side, but Cindy brought out the best in him, not the worst.

They moved to the living room. Don grabbed the remote to mute the TV, but had second thoughts, and simply turned it down a few notches. He sat on the couch and gestured for Alex to sit in the chair across from him. They stared at each other over the coffee table. Alex could see Don was sizing him up, forming an opinion. Alex had done the same thing weeks ago.

Don kept his voice low. "You don't look like one of those people you see on TV. Those
sensitive
people, or whatever they call themselves."

"Well, I have to admit, I am a little bit different." He nodded to the kitchen. "She doesn't know?"

"No. I haven't told her. How can I? We spend most of our time at her place. She doesn't see the bullshit that goes on here."

Alex leaned back. "The whispers? The shadows? The things moving by themselves?"

Don looked liked he was about to cry, like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. "Yes. How do you know?"

"I can sense ghosts. I can actually do a lot of things."

"And there
are
ghosts? In this house?"

"Of course there are. How could there not be?"

"What do you mean?" Don immediately went on the defensive. "What are you talking about?"

Alex rested his elbows on his knees, trying his best to hide his contempt for Don. "Look, if you want the hauntings to stop, you have to go to the police, and admit what you did."

"Admit what, Don?"

They both looked in the direction of the voice. Sara stood in the archway, holding a Chinese take-out menu and the phone. All she wanted to do was tell Don dinner was on the way, but heard Alex's last few words.

"Nothing, Sara," Don said, rising to his feet. "This asshole was just leaving."

"Don, you can't run from this anymore."

"Get out of my fucking house!"

Sara took a cautious step back into the dining room. "What's going on?"

Alex looked at the front door. "She came home two hours early." He walked to the foyer and faced the stairs leading to the second floor, more than happy to recreate the scene for them. "You two were upstairs screwing in the bed she slept in every night, that she made every day. You didn't hear the car in time, and were both on the steps, half naked, when she opened the door. I don't even want to try to imagine the pain she must have felt."

Sara's knees shook, and she leaned against the archway for support. "Don?" she said weakly.

Don marched across the living room and angrily snatched the phone from Sara's hand.

"I'm calling the police," he announced.

"Good. That's what you need to do. It's the only way to stop what's going on here."

Don hesitated, and Alex let out a half smile. He dropped the phone to the floor and pulled out a set of keys as he walked past Sara into the dining room, heading straight for the gun cabinet. Sara was right behind, trying to reach for his shoulder.

"Don? What's going on? What's he talking about?"

Alex heard the first strains of guilt in her voice, of uncertainty. Perhaps the married man she was baring her skin and soul to wasn't who she thought he was. Laura had found this out, and paid the steepest price of all.

Don was nearly to the cabinet, his hand outstretched.

Alex felt the familiar quick, sharp pain in his back as his wings sprouted from his shoulder-blades. If he extended them fully, he could come close to touching both sides of the dining room. Don and Sara both noticed the wild shadows thrown in front of them, but didn't have time to turn around. Alex beat his wings a single time. That's all that was needed. The sheer wind he created knocked over two of the dining room chairs. The table slid a few inches. The curtains billowed, and Don and Sara both lost their balance. He stumbled into the cabinet, Sara into his back. They huddled on the ground and turned to face Alex. His wings were already gone, disappeared into his back once again, or wherever it was they truly came from.

He tried not to laugh as he spun a chair and sat down, resting his arms on the back. He'd torn through many shirts since discovering his wings. A simple fashion change saved a lot of frustration. He loved tank-tops.

"You missed the rest of it, Sara," Alex said, continuing the story. "You had already left out the back door while Don was fighting with his wife. There was some shouting, some pushing. She was walking through this very dining room, to try to chase you. Her back was to him. He hit her on the head with this." He grabbed a candlestick-holder from the table, turned on its side.

Sara looked at Don, scooting a few inches away from him across the floor. "Don, is this true—?"

"Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!"

"He wasn't done yet, though. He grabbed a knife, and stabbed her three times. She died right in there on the kitchen floor."

Sara began to cry, looking back and forth between Alex and Don, trying to read their faces. "You said Laura left. You said she moved out and went to stay with her father up in Maine."

"That's what happened, baby, I swear. This asshole, he's out of his mind. Please, stop looking at me like that. Laura and I, yeah, we fell apart. But she's fine."

"Oh, I'm fine, am I?"

Alex craned his neck to look at Laura. She'd been seething the entire time, watching the conversation from the living room, always a step behind Alex. The quiet rage was building within her.

The dining room slowly started to shake, like a train was passing by. Slight vibrations through the table and chairs, the gun cabinet, the windows. Those vibrations grew into something more. The table bounced up and down at an unnatural speed, followed by the chairs. A chair bounced across the room and hugged the wall.

"Don, this can all stop. Your mistress is afraid. Go to the police."

He said nothing. Don and Sara were too focused on the furniture bouncing and moving around them.

"Here. Talk to her yourself."

Alex reached forward and grabbed Don and Sara by the wrist. His hands tingled, and from the sheer panic on their faces, he could tell one of his many demonic powers was working. The living and spirit realms were so very close. That closeness was the reason ghosts could sometimes move objects, or psychics could sense spirits. Alex, with no effort at all, could bridge those two realms, allowing the living to see the dead.