Adelaide Upset (32 page)

“
Impossible,” it hissed,
seeming to twitch with irritation? Maybe anticipation? Who knew.
“Unless the body is yours...”

“No,” I said firmly. “But all you need to
possess someone is their permission, right? I can get you that. Now
tell me why you want Demidov’s diary.”

“
Answers don’t come
cheap,” the creature said, drawling out the words. “And although
your terms are acceptable, you don’t have the means to carry them
out. Were you a religious zealot, with your own faithful servants,
you could command one to lend me their body. Were you a queen, a
princess, a warrior woman, then you could coerce a supplicant. But
you are not. You do not wield that kind of power. You offer me
nothing,” it hissed.

“
As I said, we don’t have
time for this. As of—” I glanced at the wall clock. “—an hour ago
the diary was taken by Lars Hurst. I’m not sure how your ability to
watch us through the veil works, but incase you haven’t seen him, I
can assure you, he’s a brute. And while demons seem to get off on
world domination, something tells me you aren’t interested in
sharing your secrets, considering you went to all that trouble
possessing a dead man to get them back. So I’ll ask again, why do
you want the diary?”

“
Some secrets aren’t meant
for man,” was the creature’s oblique reply.

I let him think I didn’t
know what he was talking about, knowing not to bring up the black
covenant. “So you told Anastas some secrets because you really,
really wanted to borrow his body and now you’re what? Scared the
other demons will be mad at you?”

The creature said nothing,
swaying in place. It was probably my imagination, but it seemed to
leave an oily film behind, contaminating the very air it passed
through. Dealing with ghosts had not prepared me in the least. I
was extremely uncomfortable, and doing my best to hide
it.

“
How did you manage to
find the diary before?” I asked, changing tactics. “Your last
words, they hinted at a connection.”

“The diary is a piece of myself, my essence,
my—”

“Aura,” I offered, familiar with the concept
because of Raina.

“
No,” the demon uttered.
“The diary is of my essence, it carries my knowledge and secrets,
much like a demon soul. Anastas Demidov poured out his creativity
and feeling, it is his aura that lingers...”

I guess there was some
distinction between the two that I was missing, but it didn’t
matter. “I just need to know if you can find the book,” because I
sure as hell didn’t know where Lars had snatched it off
to.

“
The summoner Demidov and
I reached many agreements. I am attuned to his aura,” the creature
shifted, slinking in place. “How do you think I reached your
dreams? You invited me, my peach. Every time you read his words,
his essence was a film on your fingers and mind.”

I’d forgotten, like most
do, about my dreams and the ‘endearment’ he’d used in them. I was
not a fan, in fact, it curdled my stomach, but since we were
finally making headway I let it slide. “So because of your essence,
and Demidov’s aura, you can find the book?” I asked. He’d been
vague, intentionally so, and I knew better than to assume
anything.

“Yesss.”

“
Alright, then,” I said,
thinking fast. “I’ll get you a body, which you may only possess as
long as it takes us to find the diary, destroy it and return. You
cannot harm the body, or linger in it,” I said, thinking of how
he’d somehow tricked Anastas, stealing into his corpse. “Do you
agree?”

“Yesss.”

Suddenly my heart burned, and I had to bite
back the creeping taste of acid. I rubbed my chest, unsure of what
was happening.

“
It is sealed,” the
creature observed, flitting around the room. I suppose he could
move more freely now that we’d reached an agreement, but he wasn’t
going anywhere, not if he wanted a body. The demon’s inhuman voice
sliced through the space between us, settling in my brain and
making me edgy as he asked, “How does she propose to keep up her
side of the bargain?”

That was the real question, wasn’t it?

Bill Shrader was easy
enough to find, the police officer standing outside his room was
something of a tip-off. You would think getting past a guard was a
legitimate obstacle. That I’d have to create a diversion, pull the
fire alarm, something to that effect. The problem with that was
that they’d check on Bill first thing after everything was sorted.
I needed to get in and out without raising red flags.

Thing was, I’d been
planning how to get the diary back before I’d even given it to
Lars. As a result I had Raina’s syringe stuffed down in my pocket,
taken from my house before I’d driven off with Lucas. If it was a
duplicate of her last dose, then it was capable of putting a person
to sleep, and I knew from firsthand experience that it was
fast-acting.

With every moment that
passed Lars Hurst could be reading his way through the diary.
Knowing that my sense of urgency pushed me along, forcing me to
act. I crumpled a Styrofoam cup, bits of white falling to the floor
as I squeezed it into a ball. I glanced down the hall casually,
seeing the officer no more than ten feet off. It was a woman, a
conveniently short woman, and she wasn’t paying attention to me.
Feeling tired and bored, her mind and emotions were listless and
inactive. I tossed the crumpled cup, watching it bounce by her feet
and roll on down the hall. The second it caught her attention I
moved, closing the distance as she turned away. Her uniform and
vest gave me no choice; I pressed the needle into her neck, with no
other soft bit of skin available to puncture.

She gasped, trying to
turn, hand falling to the holster on her hip. I flattened her
against the wall with my body, pressing my palm over her grasp on
the butt of the gun, not letting her lift it. She began to slip
along the wall, her body going pliant. I followed her down until
she was a heap on the floor. Then I grabbed her by the collar and
dragged her into Bill’s room.

I saw him sit up in bed, eyes wide. “What
are—”

“
Shut up,” I commanded my
voice firm and unforgiving. He responded, doing as I
said.

Capping the empty syringe,
I slipped it back into my pocket. No need for bolt cutters now. I
extracted the keys off the lady officer before hauling her into a
chair by the door, making sure to move her arms and legs into a
more natural position, preparing should someone walk by.

After that I gave Bill my
full attention, feeling a fear that wasn’t mine. “Do you think I’m
here to finish you off?” I asked, secretly amused.

That he was pathetic was
disarming. A bandaged head, gauze wrapped and white, with nothing
else but a flimsy garment on, little bows holding it closed. I
could still see his paunchy flesh, the curly chest hairs and red,
ruddy skin. This was how he’d tricked me, with his appearance,
especially those ugly sneakers. I’d written him off, seeing only
the dorky accountant and not the killer within.
He should be dead
, I thought, hating him.

“You must know I never meant it,” he
insisted, grunting as he sat up. The handcuffs clinked, securing
his right wrist to the bed frame. “I just wanted to scare you a
bit, that’s all.”

“I can see why you would want me to believe
that,” I said, pacing around his bed. I could tell it unnerved him.
“It would mean a reduced sentence for you, the whole... attempted
murder thing brushed right under the rug.”

He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, today’s your lucky day. I won’t go to
the police, but only on one condition.”

He eyed me shrewdly, his true colors
showing. “What?”

“
You have to say the
following words: Raulriechmydl, I give you dominion over my
body.”

His face twisted unpleasantly. “Why?” he
asked. “Is this some sort of—”

“
Just say it,” I told him.
“If not we’ll wait together until the nice lady cop wakes up. Then
I can tell her how you strangled me, beat me over the head with a
shovel, and... what was that other thing?”

I could feel him relent. “What was that
first part again?”

“Raulriechmydl,” I said, sounding it out
again slowly. “Rawl-rick-meedle.”

He lay back in bed, having
relaxed. “Raulriechmydl,” he said curtly. “I give you dominion over
my body. There, I did it, now leave.”

I’d made the demon wait
where I’d first summoned him, knowing that every second we were
together he was learning me, my habits and weaknesses. He hadn’t
disagreed with the order, and I figured that when he got the
permission he needed, he would know, much like I felt our bargain
in my body. Could he now feel Bill’s aura? Were they linked
together somehow, now or for forever? I guess I should’ve felt bad,
tricking Bill like that, but I didn’t. Just then I didn’t care at
all. In some ways I was the worst sort of empath.

The shadow came, slipping into the room,
oozing through the door’s open gap. The haze seemed to swallow up
light, filmy and unpleasant. Bill noticed, gaping as he gripped the
sheets.

“What is th—” His words cut off, dying in a
wheeze as the demon dug into him, blackness sinking under the
skin.

The sight repelled me, and
unconsciously I stepped back, the wall stopping my back. For a
moment Bill Shrader didn’t move, looking almost dead, eyes open and
unseeing. But then, very slowly, he blinked. It was a reptilian
gesture, inhuman and deeply disturbing.

“I can feel it,” the demon said, his voice
all Bill’s. “Demidov’s diary. It’s close.”

I made myself turn away,
casually flinging the keys at his chest. They bounced off, falling
into his new lap. I guess demons didn’t have that whole catch
reflex. “Good,” I said, flipping through Bill’s chart, it had been
hanging at the end of his bed. “Because we have less than an hour
before the next nurse does rounds.”

It was uber-creepy having
a demon in my passenger seat. It didn’t say or do anything unless
it was directing me. Every time we came to an intersection the
creature would point, following some internal guide. We were headed
back towards St. Simons, and I was curious to find out where Lars
had holed up. I would’ve expected him to have left already, but
according to the demon the book wasn’t far, and so must he
be.

It was nearing midnight
when we rolled through town, the sky a murky blue-black. When the
demon gestured toward the Crowne I was skeptical, saying, “Are you
sure?”

I glanced over, catching
Bill’s chubby fingers massaging the plastic door handle. “Yesss, my
peach.”

I couldn’t take it
anymore, gritting, “Don’t call me that.” I instantly regretted it,
knowing I shouldn’t have said anything. It was just a crumb of
insight, but ants made mountains out of crumbs... and the demon was
a bug for sure.

Movement caught my eye, a
head of dark hair escaping through the front entrance, the lights
on either side giving her a silhouette. Francesca. She must have
just finished up a late shift, unusual hours, but not the first
time.

“
Stay here,” I said,
hurrying to park and shut off the car. “Don’t move until I come
back.”

I lurched from my seat,
running to catch her. She’d marched around the building,
disappearing into the employee’s parking lot out back. There was a
scattering of oak trees, gnarled and looming in the dark, so unlike
the crisp new palms that were planted with precision. I breezed
between trunks, catching her just in time.

She was just opening her
car door when I called out, “Francesca!” She whipped around
squealing. “Shut up,” I complained, jogging to meet her. “It’s just
me.”

“You scared the shit out of me!” she
hollered. “What are you even doing here?”

“Listen,” I said, my breath a little heavy
from the run. “I need to know if someone is staying here. Hurst.
His name is Larson Hurst.”

“
Oh, yum,” she said, a bit
giddy. “He’s staying in the green suite, has a bunch of guys with
him. Rough type, but definitely loaded.”

“
Will you do me a favor?”
Best not give her a chance to think about it, I plowed on. “On your
way home, call the front desk and tell them that Mr. Hurst has a— a
friend waiting out front. Say it’s a woman, and she didn’t want to
come in. Imply something sordid.”

“
Are you trying to lure
him out of the hotel?” she asked, intrigued and suspicious in equal
measure.

“Will you do it?” I said, shifting
impatiently.

“
Yes, alright fine,” she
agreed. “I’ll say she looked like a hooker—blonde wig, revealing
blue and white dress, oh, and mustn’t forget the thigh-high black
boots.”

“
Whoever’s working the
front desk won’t pass the message along if they’ve ever
watched
Pretty
Woman
. I need them to take you
seriously.”

“
It was just a joke, you
know I can be convincing. But, Adelaide,” she said while getting
into her car. “I’ll scratch your eyes out if you get me
fired.”

“
What does it matter?” I
asked. “Soon you’ll be riding off into the sunset with your rich
prince Conner.”

I was being facetious, but
for some reason the comment distracted her, and not in a good way.
She waved and left, feeling a little sad. Jeez, it was obvious she
hadn’t come to terms with marrying him, so why was she pushing
forward?