Smoke and Ashes (12 page)

His blood pressure was too low to raise a decent blush. “Could you not talk about it?”

“At all?”

“Ever.”

“You know, you're weirdly prudish for someone with a Nightwalker as a lover.”

“It's not…it's having an audience.” A memory of a night in an alley off Charles Street back in Toronto surfaced. “No, it's having
you
as an audience.”

“Hey. You will never find a more appreciative audience than me. Although the audiences for this live sex show I was in back in London in…” Dark brows drew in, and the yellow toe of the sneaker in the air drew circles. “…1882 were great.”

“At the Midnight Lily?”

Tony was childishly pleased to see her jump as Henry appeared behind her.

“The what?”

“The Midnight Lily—was that the name of the club?”

“Yes…”

Henry nodded thoughtfully and walked past her to sit on the other end of the couch. “I thought you looked familiar.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony reached for the remote. “I'll just watch a little TV while you two trade flashbacks.”

Then the remote was gone. “I don't think so.” The fingers of Henry's other hand gently touched the rough bandage on his neck. “You took a chance.”

Shaking his head hurt. “Not much of one. You never really damage what you consider to be yours.” He was impressed by how nonchalant he sounded about the whole thing.

“A good thing you stopped us, then.” Fingertips lingered a moment longer then withdrew. “A good thing you saw the danger.”

“Yeah, well, wizard. We see what's there.”

“True.” Henry sat back against the sofa cushions. “And occasionally what isn't there.”

It might have been wiser to just let that go but, given what he'd already survived tonight, Tony was feeling a little reckless. He turned and faced Henry, eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you're not doing CB?”

“And are you deciding who I can and cannot feed from?”

“You have the whole damned lower mainland. CB, the studio, that's mine!”

“Your employer might argue that.”

“Are you two always such drama queens,” Leah demanded, “or is this special for me? And,” she continued before either of them could respond, “while it's painfully obvious you two are dealing with the kind of personal shit that would give Dr. Phil reason to retire, this isn't the time. Let's concentrate on the important thing here. Me. You,” she pointed at Henry, “are here for backup. Tony seems to think you'll be useful—the brawn to our brains and beauty combination although there was some mention that you might have access to information we can use. I doubt you're going to know anything about demons I don't, but, hey, better safe than sorry. Also, given what you are, and given how stupidly territorial vampires can be, I'd rather have you with us than against us. You…” Her finger moved to Tony. “…need to conserve your strength. Between that spell you threw earlier and your ex's feeding habits, you haven't got energy to spare for arguing.” She paused just long enough to ensure she had their full attention. “Now then, who has a plan?”

“I think,” Tony said slowly, “we should bring Jack Elson in on this.”

One red-gold brow lifted as Henry drawled, “Now, do I say anything about you and Constable Elson?”

“There
is
no me and Constable Elson; the man is straight!”

“You're doing it again,” Leah snapped.

“Fine.” The look Henry shot her would have caused strong men to run. Leah rolled her eyes. “Why Elson?”

Tony finished swallowing the last mouthful of liquid breakfast. “I have an arm in my trunk.”

 

“This is a human arm.”

“And he's what? Only four hundred and sixty-ish?” Leah shot an anime-sized look of wonderment in Tony's direction. “What amazing deductive powers!” And to Henry. “I have to know; how did you work it out?”

“It smells like burned pork,” Henry told her dryly, not rising to the bait. “Not to mention, it's wearing the remains of a watch. From what you said about Tony dusting a demon, I had assumed it was a demonic arm.”

“We wouldn't need Jack for that.” Tony yawned and nodded toward the arm. “This got bitten off a construction worker. Jack took me to see the body this afternoon.”

“Why?”

“Because he doesn't believe in giant raccoons and he wanted some answers.”

“I'm moderately disturbed by how much sense that makes,” Henry muttered. “And you think we should give this arm to him?”

“Sure. He can put it with the rest of the body.”

“And you don't think that would cause more questions?”

“Well, we'd…I'd…answer his questions. Mostly. He knows what's going on. I mean, he knows there's stuff going on. I told him about the Demonic Convergence.” Tony yawned again. “He's still at least one version of the script behind, but it won't take long to bring him up to speed.”

“I wasn't actually thinking of questions from Constable Elson,” Henry pointed out. “I was thinking of the coroner and the victim's relatives. It might be best if they continue to believe that the arm was bitten off by a wild animal and eaten. Another urban myth of man-eating cougars in the city would be preferable to an investigation. Modern forensics can be remarkably thorough.”

“Let me guess, you've been watching
CSI
.” This time, Tony yawned so widely his jaw cracked. “Besides, we'll need Jack to work backup in the daylight.”

“Demons don't…” Henry began and stopped.

“The last one did. Which leaves us kind of screwed if you're all we have.”

“Thank you.”

Crap. “Sorry. That was…”

“Tactless,” Leah offered. “But true.”

Henry nodded, graciously acknowledging the point. “And you think Jack Elson can stop a demon?”

“He has a gun.”

“Will a gun have any effect on these creatures?”

Forgetting the wound in his throat, Tony shrugged and ground out, “I have no idea,” through gritted teeth.

“Then perhaps we'd best not involve Constable Elson until we know more. Why don't you start by telling me
exactly
what happened this afternoon.”

“I've got it.” Leah lifted a hand to cut off Tony's protest, but he hadn't actually planned on one. Exhausted, he sagged back against the sofa cushions half listening to the immortal stuntwoman tell Henry about the demon attack but mostly thinking how
immortal stuntwoman
sounded like a cool idea for a show and wondering if he should pitch it to CB.

Hell, at some point someone had to have thought that
vampire detective
was a good idea.

“Tony?”

“I'm awake.”

“Of course you are.”

Leah's eyes were so dark a brown he could barely make out where the irises ended and the pupils began. “What?”

“Henry's going to get rid of the arm.”

Tony shot Henry, still standing by the arm, a thumb's up. “How?”

“Leave that to me,” Henry said quietly, “Leah knows a better way of returning the demons to hells, one that won't nearly kill you. She'll teach it to you. But not tonight,” he added. “Tonight you need to regain the energy you spent.”
And the blood you lost.
Tony felt his heart beat just a little faster. Henry's eyes darkened slightly, aware of Tony's response.

“You're doing it again,” Leah sighed.

“You are not totally without fault here,” Henry told her, masking the Hunger. “Your presence is provocative.”

“Why, thank you.”

“What about more construction workers?” Tony asked.

Dimples flashed as Leah turned her attention to him. “I'm very much in favor of construction workers.”

“Yeah, funny. Remember the arm. That demon that attacked you killed someone else first.”

The Vampire and the Demongate exchanged nearly identical glances.

Tony sighed. Figured that he'd be the only one who thought of the little guy. “If either of you says the words ‘collateral damage', I'm going to be really pissed.”

“Tony…”

Henry cut her off. “If we concentrate on keeping Leah alive, on keeping the gate from opening for this Demonlord, we prevent mass slaughter. With the demons focused on her, there will, hopefully, be few other lives lost.” Henry's tone suggested this was the last he was prepared to say on the matter.

Can't make an omelet without breaking eggs. God, I must be tired if I'm thinking in bad clichés.
“So tomorrow I learn a better way to return demons to hell and then I become Leah's bodyguard for the duration of the convergence. As each demon pops out and attacks, I send it home. If it attacks at night, are you willing to make sure I stay alive long enough to do the spell?”

“I am.”

“And if it attacks in the daytime…”

“It is ultimately your choice if you involve Constable Elson.”

“Sure it is.” Both Leah and Henry looked as if they wanted to respond. Tony ignored them. “Okay, I'm seeing one big problem here. I already have a job.”

Henry folded his arms. “I will talk with CB.”

“And get me some time off.”

“It seems like the best idea.”

“With pay.”

“You have a high opinion of my powers of persuasion.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No. And now, you need to sleep. Where do you keep your clean sheets?”

Tony glanced around the room at the piles of laundry. There were less of them than there had been, but that was only because they'd been unsorted over the course of the evening. “I only have one set.”

“Then we won't worry about it.” Henry crossed the apartment at close to mortal speed and knelt by the sofa. “I don't suppose one night without sheets will hurt you.”

Tony nodded. “Once I was pissed off about having no sheets, then I met a man with no blankets.” When the only response was confusion, he sighed. “It's a variation on the shoe/feet thing.” The confusion deepened. He waved a hand; hardly his fault if he was being profound and they were being dense. “Forget it.”

“I don't think that'll be hard,” Henry murmured slipping one arm under Tony's legs and the other behind his back.

“Hey, don't…”

Henry ignored him and straightened. Big surprise. Tony squirmed a bit but nothing he could do was going to change the fact that he was being held in Henry's arms like an overgrown infant. “I hate it when you do this.”

“I know. Leah, would you fold the bed out, please.”

“Sure thing. I'm good with beds.”

Too tired for innuendo, Tony let that go. Besides, it seemed to be the simple truth. In a remarkably short time, he was shoeless but still dressed and stretched out under a blanket.

“Okay, it's a long shot, but what if another demon attacks tonight?” he asked as Henry turned off the overhead lights.

“These are lesser demons, not the Demonlord himself. They may not even be able to get through your wards and, if they can, I'm sure I can at least slow them until you wake.”

“At least slow them?”

“Good night, Tony.”

 

“So…” Leah pushed a curl back off her face. “…what do we do while we're waiting for dawn?”

“I suggest you sleep.” Henry nodded toward the bed. “Tony won't even know you're there.”

“And you?”

“I'm going to get my laptop from the car and do some work.”

She slid out of her sweater. “You can do that; work with me lying right over there?”

“I am perfectly capable of maintaining control regardless of your provocation—however involuntary that provocation is most of the time.”

“Maybe together we could provoke Ryne Cyratane into making a fatal mistake.”

His lip curled, showing teeth. “Since the only person in this room likely to be a fatality is Tony, I'd have to say no, thank you.”

T
ONY WAS CHASING A PENGUIN
around the
Darkest Night
set when the phone rang. Which was when he realized he was dreaming. Given his experience in television, penguin chasing was a distinct possibility; a phone ringing on the soundstage was not. The last time it had happened, Peter had promised to castrate the next recipient of an incoming call, and he'd promised it with such sincerity that even the women on the set had been nervous.

It was almost fortunate that Arra's gate reopening had destroyed cell phone reception, downgrading the threat to a moot point.

As the penguin shuffled off past Raymond Dark's coffin, Tony dragged himself up out of sleep and groped amid the debris on the bedside table. Lukewarm liquid splashed onto his shoulder as he attempted to answer the half empty can of cola. When he finally found the handheld, he sank back against the pillows.

“What?”

“Mr. Fitzroy just explained your situation, Mr. Foster.”

None of his three functioning brain cells allowed him to mistake CB's less-than-dulcet tones. “Uh…”

“He seems to think that it will be too dangerous for you to be Ms. Burnett's bodyguard at the same time as you're being my TAD.”

“Demons…”

“Yes. Mr. Fitzroy mentioned that there may be demons and, as I'd just as soon not have demons on my soundstage disrupting my production schedule, you may have the time you need to deal with them.”

“Thanks, Boss, I…”

“Don't make a habit of this, Mr. Foster.”

“No, I…”

“And while you're sitting around waiting for something to attack Ms. Burnett, I suggest you answer your e-mail.”

“Boss, I won't exactly…”

But he was talking to the dial tone. Wondering what Henry had said, or more importantly, what CB had heard, Tony tossed the phone down onto the tangle of blankets on the bed beside him.

The tangle snorted and swore in a language he didn't recognize.

Three guesses who and the first two don't count.

He grabbed one of the tangle's rising curves and shook it. When it gave under his fingers and kept shaking on its own, he snatched his hand away. “Hey! Where's Henry?”

“He left about an hour ago…”

Tony squinted toward the entertainment unit. 6:55. Sunrise was at 6:49. He must have called CB from his car.

“…he said I should wake you, but I figured the wards would give enough warning.”

“Why didn't he wake me?”

Leah's head and shoulders emerged from beneath the covers. “Hey, you guys have issues I'm not going near.” When she stretched, Tony had an epiphany.

“You're naked!”

“I hate sleeping in my clothes.”

He was still in his jeans and T-shirt although someone had removed his socks and sweatshirt.

“Relax.” She yawned. “Although I've contaminated your space with girlie bits, your honor remains safe.”

“It's not my…” Taking a deep breath, he sat up and swung his legs out of bed. “I just think you got naked a little fast.”

Warm fingers patted his arm. “Sweetie, I've gotten naked a lot faster.”

Okay. Should've seen that one coming.

Another deep breath as he shifted his weight forward. He seemed fine. Internal fluid levels had to still be low, but he wasn't feeling faint or light-headed. In fact, he was feeling pretty good. If he had to, he could probably toast another demon.

Three. Two. One.

When something with horns and scales missed its cue to break down the apartment door, Tony stood and made his way past the piles of laundry to the bathroom.

The bite on his neck still looked like hell. A hickey of the damned. In all the years he and Henry had been together, Henry'd never lost control like that.

Issues.

Yeah. Right.

Leah was up and dressed by the time he got out of the shower. The bed had been reconverted into a sofa and she was stuffing clothing into a pillowcase. “I've got a washer and dryer. You can do some laundry at my place.”

“Your place?” Had he missed something?

“You didn't think we were staying here, did you?”

Tony shrugged.

It seemed to be the answer she'd expected because she grinned and tossed the stuffed pillowcase down beside its equally stuffed mate. “Get together everything you can't leave behind. We'll grab some breakfast on the way.”

 

“So those files your wizard mentor left you, they're cued to you, right?”

Tony resisted the urge to glance toward the laptop case in the back seat, keeping his eyes on the road instead. “You booted up after I fell asleep?”

“I was curious. All I got was spider solitaire.”

“She used it to tell the future.”

“It?”

“Games of spider solitaire.”

“Well, who hasn't used
that
excuse to justify not working? Hash brown?”

“Sure.”

Leah lived out in Sullivan Heights and the fastest way there from Tony's apartment was to get onto Lougheed and head west. When they crossed Boundary, Tony had to remind himself not to turn. It was weird driving almost right past the studio on a Thursday morning.

I should be there. They need me.

Or worse, they don't really need me and I should be there so they don't find out.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” Caught up in his concerns about remaining employed, Tony had no idea what Leah'd seen.

“There was a spot back there, by the gas station, where the rain wasn't.”

He glanced over at her, but the back of her head didn't tell him a lot. She'd twisted around in her seat and was staring out the window, back the way they'd come. “Say what?”

“I saw an interruption in the rain. Some demons don't like to get wet.”

Tony snorted. “Man, are they converging in the wrong place.” And then the program loaded. “Hang on! There's another demon through?”

“Looks that way. Drive faster,” she commanded, throwing herself back into the seat.

“What? No! I can get off Loughheed on Douglas and back on at Springer.”

Leah turned to stare at him. He could feel incredulity hit the side of his face as he changed lanes. “And do what?”

“If there's a demon back there, it might eat someone. Or part of someone. I can't let that happen.”

“So if we go back and wave me around like bait, and you Powershot it, what happens then?”

“No one gets eaten.”

“Yeah, but you're out on your ass for another twelve hours. You're too wiped to learn the new spell and you're not able to protect me. Then, during those twelve hours, another demon shows up and eats me, opening the Demongate and ending the world as we know it.”

“If it eats you, will the gate open inside it? Ow!” He rubbed his thigh where she'd smacked him.

“If you drive faster, we'll put more distance between us and it, and it'll take that much longer to find me. During that time, you can learn how to send it back to hell so that, when it finally catches up, you'll be able to save me without taking yourself out of the fight.”

They were almost at the off ramp.

“I can't just let a demon run around loose.”

“You can't just let a Demonlord into the world either.”

Valid point.

Past the ramp. Too late to go back.

“If someone else dies…”

“Better them than me.”

He fought the urge to hit the brakes and skid to a dramatic halt. It was the kind of reaction that would look great on screen and accomplish absolutely nothing in real life. He wanted to snarl,
It isn't all about you!
but, until the Demonic Convergence was over, it was. He wanted it to be about imps again. He'd kind of been looking forward to that.

“All right.” Deep breath. No option but to deal. A little more gas and they were matching speeds with the fastest car on the road. “Why won't this new thing you're going to teach me knock me on my ass?”

Her seat creaked as she shifted her weight, tucking her knees up to brace her feet against the dashboard. “You'll be manipulating energy instead of just hurling it.”

“Say what?”

She sighed impatiently. “Well, I'm no wizard, but that Powershot of yours looked like the magical equivalent of picking up the biggest rock you can find and crushing your enemies with it. Of course you're exhausted afterward; you're also looking at pulled muscles, back trouble, and probably hernias.”

“Hernias?”

“Magical equivalent of. What I'm going to teach you is more like rolling the rock to the edge of a cliff and pushing it off as your enemies pass under it. There's a lot less effort involved and result is the about the same.”

“Really?”

“No, not really.” Slouching as far as the seat belt would allow, Leah propped her yellow high-tops up on the dash. “It's actually a pretty lousy analogy and only applies to the amount of power involved. Powershot lots. My way, less.”

“Yeah, but you said you're not a wizard…”

“No, I'm not. I'm just the one who stands to be eviscerated if you don't get it right.” She gave his leg a patronizing pat, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “And then the world as we know it ends.”

Yeah. Yeah. No pressure.

Leah's condo was in a clump of high-rise concrete towers overlooking the TransCanada and a railway ravine, and it wasn't hard to understand why she objected to his beige. Her walls were shades of yellows, oranges, and reds. Her furniture was large and heavy and predominately wood and leather with cushions the same shades as the walls softening the angles. Every piece looked sturdy enough to take the weight of two moving adults.

From the sparsely furnished second bedroom on the north side of the corner unit, Tony could almost convince himself he could see Simon Fraser University high on the heights of Mount Burnaby—where
height
was a relative term given the actual peaks of the Rockies less than an hour's drive to the east.

He couldn't see any interruptions in the rain.

 

“All right.” Leah opened the bottom of the white silk shirt she'd changed into after an impressively quick shower and, pushing her black track pants dangerously lower on her hips, stepped closer to the gooseneck lamp they were using as a spotlight. “The innermost circle of runes defines the actual gate. All you have to do, because we're not talking about creating an actual gate as much as reminding reality that demons don't belong here, is burn these four into the air…” One finger, a careful distance from skin, indicated the runes in question. “…each rune more or less an equal distance from the other, with the demon in the middle of the pattern. When you finish the fourth rune, reality will reset itself and no more demon.”

With his nose so close to her skin, she smelled like soap and cinnamon. Or cinnamon soap. Which was a weird choice, but it suited her. “
All
I have to do?” Tony muttered, peering at the intricate tattoo.

Leah chose to ignore the sarcasm. “Because the demon doesn't belong here, you don't have to be specific about its name or its ultimate destination. Once you weaken the barrier, it'll snap back to where it belongs. It's a variation on what we were going to be doing before Ryne Cyratane upped the stakes—only then you'd have been pushing the runes through the weak spot to reinforce it.”

“Yeah. Okay.” The individual runes were a lot more complex up close than they were when they were just a part of the larger pattern. “What happens if I screw one of these up? Squiggle when I should spiral?”

“Probably nothing…”

The
probably
was a little worrying.

“…although if, by chance, you re-create an entirely different power definition…” She shrugged, the curve of her belly rising and falling with the motion. “Maybe death. Destruction. Perpetual reruns of
The Family Guy
.”

“Hey, that show's a classic!”

“Every now and then,” Leah muttered, flicking Tony on the top of the head with one finger, “I think, why not let him in? How much worse could things get? You'd better draw the runes on paper first.”

“Sure.” He straightened. “But what did…” Tucked into the front pocket of the laptop case, his cell phone played the
Darkest Night
theme; Zev had made a digital file available to anyone in the studio who wanted to use it. Tony suspected he was hoping it would get picked up as a download by one of the big online ring-tone sites, but so far there were no takers. Flicking the phone open, he checked the display. “It's Amy.”