Pandora's Box (3 page)

Chapter Five

Madison wondered what thoughts ran through Phoenix’s head while he stared at her. He looked at her differently than any man ever had, including Micah, her deadbeat, low-life ex-husband. A businessman in the guise of a hunky model, Micah had fulfilled every one of her teenage dreams. He knew all the right things to say at exactly the right moment. Perfection right down to his pedicured toenails. He’d doted on her, been a wonderful father. She’d worshiped him like he was a god and had been not only shocked, but devastated when he walked out on her without so much as a goodbye.

She considered James, seated with confidence, his arms resting on her kitchen table, watching her as closely as Phoenix. Did they both expect her to fall apart? They would learn it took a lot for her to break down. She’d survived when Micah left, and she would survive now. Her biggest dilemma was buying all this mumbo-jumbo. Demons? Seriously? She didn’t even believe in God. So, shouldn’t a person need to believe in supernatural entities before…before what?

Whether or not you believe in God, He believes in you, Madison
. The sound of her pious father’s lecture swam in her head. A Baptist pastor, overly strict and hard on her; he’d expected more from her than she could give. Picking Micah as her mate had thrust more friction between their already strained relationship. She’d never understood his hatred of her husband, and since her father couldn’t explain his emotions with anything more solid than,
a father just knows what’s best for his little girl
, she’d done as she damn well pleased and married Micah despite his admonitions.

“I think I should tell you both I don’t believe in demons.”

Phoenix sent his uncle a sidelong glance.

“Or God,” she said.

Phoenix cleared his throat. “Doesn’t mean—”

“If you say it doesn’t mean God isn’t real, I’ll strangle you.” His eyebrows rose in surprise. “For the record, I don’t believe in ghosts, psychics, or anything else supernatural.” Except she couldn’t totally discount prophets not since Amos had divined more than one future event with a hundred percent accuracy.

“I was going to say, your lack of belief in demons doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”

“Why are we here, if you don’t believe in all this?” James asked, spreading his fingers wide.

Madison rubbed Amos’s back, taking comfort in his little body seeking reassurance from her. She met James’s gaze. “Honestly, you’re my last hope. Doctors just want to drug him and lock him up in an institution.”

Phoenix shot her a weird look. “How do you know that’s not the right choice?”

“Nix,” James said, his voice rough with censure.

“It’s a valid question, James.” She stared at Phoenix. “The only way I know to answer that is mother’s intuition tells me it’s wrong.” She cleared her throat. “You’re not the first supernatural intervention I’ve tried. An exorcism failed, a witch doctor made my house stink to high heaven. I almost didn’t get the stench out. An herbalist gave us both sinus infections. None of them could provide me with guesses, much less answers, and they sure as heck didn’t help. I consulted at least a dozen psychics before I located Georgie by an accidental transposition of telephone numbers, and when she said she’d send help, I didn’t believe her. So, yeah, I imagine you can understand why I’m more than a little jaded.”

“Madison—may I call you that?” James asked.

“Of course.”

“Madison, I promise you when we leave, you’ll have answers, and hopefully a resolution.”

She nodded. What could she say to his promise? Almost all of them had promised help in the beginning, only to disappoint her in the end. Relying on her last hope…she couldn’t do it, not without losing a part of herself in the process. Besides, trust must be earned, and even then, it was only as good as the person she put her faith in.

The doorbell rang, saving her from saying something she’d regret or have to apologize for later. “Excuse me, gentlemen.”

James stood. “I’ll take him if you like.”

Madison smiled. Gentlemen were rare, even in the South. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

She stood and adjusted Amos in her arms, leaving the two men in her kitchen. “Hi.” She greeted the stranger with a smile as she opened the door. “May I help you?” Brown eyes, dark hair, and so tall she felt short next to him, when she normally felt like a giant alongside other women.

“Hello.” He returned her smile. His warm expression should have warmed his eyes. It failed. “I’m Gage Birmingham.”

“Ah. You must belong with the other Birminghams.” Compared to them, he seemed less friendly, and yet she couldn’t figure out the reason for her unease.

“James and Nix? Yeah. Father and cousin,” he said.

She shifted Amos a little higher. “Come in.” She stepped back and waited for him to follow.

“He looks heavy.” He nodded at Amos. “I’ll be happy to carry him for you.”

“How sweet, but I got him.” She couldn’t explain why she felt such apprehension toward Gage Birmingham. She knew one thing with clarity. Regardless of her unfair attitude, she wouldn’t allow him to touch her child. Even if he’d come all this way to help her, she preferred to keep Amos in her protection.

Madison led Gage to the kitchen to join his family.

“I expected you sooner,” James said, rising to his feet.

“I got tied up.”

“There’s coffee if you want some. Or iced tea in the fridge. Cups are in the cabinet. Help yourself. I’m going to go put the little guy down.” She caressed Amos’s forehead with her lips. “You guys probably want to talk anyway.”

The doorbell rang again.

“You expecting more people?” she asked, and James shook his head. “Will you hold him, Phoenix?”

“Of course,” he agreed, taking Amos into his arms like a professional father. Heck, for all she knew he had a wife and kids back home, wherever that was.

Madison shook out the ache in her arm as she weaved back toward the door. Tall for five, and heavy, too. She opened the door, her mouth dropped open, and her heart slammed into her lungs.

“You—” She frowned, rubbed her temples, and swayed as blackness threatened to invade and conquer.

He caught her arm, steadying her. “Don’t faint, although you wouldn’t be the first if you did,” he said, teasing, as a smile spread across his face. The smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and forced her to instantly like him.

“You’re already in the kitchen,” she whispered. “You don’t by any chance have a twin, do you?”

“No.”

Madison bolted toward her son.

Chapter Six

Gage Birmingham caught her before she burst into the kitchen. He pushed her against the wall with enough force she knew he was serious. He leaned forward, and she grew nervous of his intentions, but he simply placed his lips against her ear and whispered, “You likely invited a Mimicker into your home. And if you did, you can’t go in there half-cocked and panicked or we’ll lose all of them.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she shook her head hard enough that strands of hair struck her face.

“I can take it out, but you need to follow my instructions precisely. Understand?”

Unable to force any words past the static heartbeat thrumming in her throat, she nodded.

“Good. Is this the only way into your kitchen?”

“There’s a door from the backyard.”

“Okay.” He pulled away from her and met her gaze. “You think you can go in there and pretend a salesman was at the door?”

She straightened to her full height against the wall, holding his stare. “Whatever I gotta do to save my son.” She thought her voice shook and hated how weak it made her sound.

“Madison Wescott?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so.” He smiled. “I like your spirit.”

Spirit wasn’t what gave her nerve, rather concern for her son. Without replying, she turned and walked back into the kitchen.

“Sorry about the interruption,” she said, forcing herself to sound perky as she sailed into the room. “It was just a salesman. I sent him on his way.”

***

Nix watched her, thinking something a little off. Maybe the strained singsong lilt to her voice added to her oddness. A bad feeling lanced down his spine. And he’d been putting his life in danger long enough to follow his instincts.

“You okay,” he asked as she practically snatched Amos out of his arms, hugging the boy to her tall, willowy frame. He’d never paid much attention to mothers before, thinking them off limits because they tended to be too burdened with complications. When he looked at Madison Wescott, he failed to think ‘off limits’. His lower brain desperately wanted to see her naked and find out if those legs were as long as they appeared. He had no trouble visualizing the two of them in a multitude of sexual positions either. Could he pick a more inappropriate time to notice a mother?

“Fine.” Her eyes verified the lie of that word, proving something amiss, causing the hair on his nape to stand at attention. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but she gave him a small shake of her head.

“I’m tired. I’m going to leave you three to catch up while I nap with Amos.”

Nix watched her face the door.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Gage.”

“Likewise.” Just as she reached the door, his cousin halted her progress with, “Micah sends his love.”

“Who’s Micah?” Nix asked.

She whipped around, hugged Amos tighter and glared at Gage. His cousin schmoozed everyone with his carefree attitude. Strange how Madison resisted his boy next door routine. “My ex-husband,” she told Nix. “Gage, how do you know Micah?”

“Your ex-husband? Wait…Gage, you don’t know—who the fuck are you?” Nix whipped out his gun and leveled it on the look-alike Gage’s forehead.

He glanced at James, who edged cautiously around the kitchen table, a knife in hand. The creature before him could be Gage’s twin, which meant they probably were dealing with a Mimicker. And this particular creature must be invited into one’s home. He’d either been in her home before as someone else or she’d likely invited him in thinking him part of the Birmingham family.

“I’m your cousin, Nix.” The mirror image of Gage flashed eyes glowing preternatural yellow. “Don’t you recognize me?”

“Where’s Gage?” James asked, his voice icy.

“Tied up.” He grinned, a sick, twisted kind of smile displaying the overlong teeth of one of his kind. They were flesh-eating monsters, and those teeth weren’t for show. “For the moment.” He smacked his lips. “He’ll make a tasty snack later. Zoe should prove scrumptious, too.”

“What do you want?” Madison demanded, and Nix found himself impressed by her backbone.

“Shouldn’t you be asking about Micah, and why he sent me?” The Mimicker rubbed his hands together as if he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into the human meat surrounding him.

She arched a single eyebrow at the creature, a question narrowing the edges of her blue eyes. A long moment lapsed as she and the creature stared at one another; Nix never doubted the Mimicker remained conscious of his and James’s positions in the room.

“Okay,” she said slowly, as if she’d bite and play his game. She glanced at James, but her gaze fixated over his shoulder. Nix shot a glance in that direction and thought he saw a flash of blue material. “Why did Micah send you? More importantly, what does he want?”

“I’m here to protect you—”

Madison snorted, a delicate sound Nix deemed charming. “If he worried about our protection, the bastard wouldn’t have left us.”

“—and ready you both for his return.”

“Tell him to save the airfare and go to Hell instead because he isn’t welcome here.”

Amos twisted in her arms to look at the Mimicker. She tried to turn his head away, but the boy refused to be deterred.

“Go away. Now.” He rubbed at a sleepy eye with a curled up fist.

The Mimicker screamed as a hole seamed open beneath his feet, a wave of black rippling outward and swallowing him whole.

“Christ!” Nix jumped back away from the edge of the sudden, gaping fissure. “Christ!” he screeched when the void grew bigger before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

He’d never seen that happen before. Unsure what exactly had happened, he couldn’t guess what type of creature could produce such power without any effort. The hardwood remained unmarred by the hole to Hell. Nix forced his eyes off the floor and stared at the five-year-old boy in her arms, an uncomfortable suspicion turning him wary. Didn’t he say “Go now,” and the dark hole suddenly loomed? Nix wasn’t sure what to think. Or if he wanted to think for that matter.

The door burst open and Gage pounced into the room a few seconds too late to help.

The child popped his thumb in his mouth, sucking loudly, reminding him of Linus in a Charlie Brown cartoon. His pale lashes fell drowsily over light blue eyes, rimmed in a deep shade of sapphire. Victims often recounted demons coming to them as humans with milky white skin, pale hair, and blue eyes. All features of the boy—and his mother—but they’d already ruled out him being a demon.

So what type of creature did that make him? Because he wasn’t wholly human either, couldn’t be, and send the Mimicker down the creepy-brick-hole.

Nix and James traded speaking glances, while Gage wore an expression detailing the level of his confusion. Obviously the mother in Madison could read their silent speak. “Amos did not do that, so don’t even think about blaming him.” Conviction darkened her sexy Southern twang.

Nix rubbed his bottom lip and considered her. “You can’t discount the Mimicker left when he told him to.”

Had he thought her pretty with her pale features and blue eyes? He’d been dead wrong. She fairly sparkled when angered. Her gaze spitting mad, a rosy blush coloring her cheeks. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of her body would flush when aroused with desire. He shook his head. Those were not thoughts he should be considering. Most especially not at a time like this.

“You can go—” She seemed to check herself, glanced at her son’s blond head and quashed the remainder of her sentence, but Nix got the idea of what he could go do, and figured the word rhymed with ‘duck’ and the sentence ended with yourself. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d inspired such sentiments from the fairer sex. He wasn’t there to be her best friend. He’d like to be her lover, the man-whore inside him pointed out. He hit the imaginary mute button. His mission was to figure out what stalked this family and how he could resolve the supernatural forces harassing them, not fantasize about all the things he wanted to do to the mother.

Always the mediator, his uncle attempted to mollify her. “We’re all a bit shaken. Never seen holes to Hell open up before.” He shook his head, rubbed his nape, and looked more rattled than a bag of popcorn. “Pointing fingers isn’t going to help.” He glared at Nix, but he offered no apology to his uncle’s silent reprimand. “We got work to do. I’ll call Georgie. She needs to know things are worse than originally thought.”

The comment turned Madison a nice hue of white, totally uncomplimentary to her features. “Worse?” Tears brimmed, threatening to fall from her red eyes.

God, the glitter of those unshed tears magnified her sky-blue irises—truly one of her best features. She blinked and the action proved too much for the moisture to remain unsettled; the tears fell on her cheeks. The undesirable urge to comfort her rose in him, but he consoled as well as Mother Theresa kicked ass.

Gage’s girlfriend, Zoe, saved the awkward moment, bursting in the kitchen door, the hilt of her knife clutched in her palm, murderous intent blazing in her brown eyes. Ah…Zoe Hart. A woman neither as sweet nor as frilly as her name sounded. Zo, as he fondly called her, was Gage’s bristly, ex-military, black belt in judo and three other forms of martial arts, girlfriend. She could kick butt while smiling and not break a hard sweat, much less a labored pant. Nix adored her like a sister and argued with her like one, too. A damn embarrassing shame she could kick his ass, which was completely unfair as far as sibling rivalry went.

“Where’s the Mimicker? “ Zo demanded, adjusting the blade in her hand as her gaze flicked over them all before coming to rest on Madison and Amos.

Narrow-eyed Madison honed in on Zo. “Who the heck are you?”

A hushed pause descended, and Nix stifled the urge to grin at Madison’s bravado. In the face of fear, she was one gutsy woman, and he admired her strength. Unfortunately, evil bastards like demons were attracted to the same trait.

Zo arched an eyebrow at the sound of hostility threaded through Madison’s voice.

Madison shot an over-exaggerated, sarcastic look in Nix’s direction. “You’re too late. Apparently it’s already been handled by a five-year-old.” She adjusted Amos. “I really wish you would all show up at once. Or at least do something!”

She abruptly turned on her heels—a military about-face to make any Marine proud—before exiting the kitchen with a small huff.