The Demon Hunters (15 page)

A shiver ran over me, but I clenched
my teeth on it. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

I heard a brief, mumbled conversation
in the background, then Royal said, “Get here as soon as you
can.”

“
Half an hour,” I
reiterated and put the phone down.

I closed Elizabeth’s diary and stood
over it, staring at the cover. Was any of it supposed to mean
something to me, give me a message which so far I couldn’t
decipher? A young girl traveled to Burma with an archeological
expedition. They went to some old city, which one of the party
discovered a few years prior. Elizabeth spotted a stranger in one
of the buildings, but he disappeared. Elizabeth fell in a trap. The
message, if one existed, must be further on in the book, because I
didn’t see it so far. It could be anything: the people, the events,
the location. The book must have come to Banks and Mortensen for a
reason. People don’t choose names at random from a phone directory
or mailing list, stuff Victorian journals in envelopes and send
them off.

Or maybe it came to me by mistake; the
sender muddled up the name of the agency for which it was intended.
If they’d bothered to put their return address on the envelope, I
could have contacted them.

I went back to the phone and dialed
Lynn’s number. She picked up almost immediately.

“
Hi, Lynn. I need your take
on something,” I said without preamble.

Lynn is used to my abrupt telephone
manner. “Go ahead.”

How should I go about this? “Suppose
you meet two people who look kind of like demons minus the glittery
bits and sharp teeth. They have superlative hearing, like demons,
and they can get inside your mind and twist your thoughts without
you knowing.”

A brief silence, then, “Anything
else?”

“
Isn’t that
enough?”

“
You told me demons can
make us see them as human.”

“
Um. Yeah.”

“
Then I think you know what
they are, Tiffany.”

Gee, thanks.
And she had to call me Tiffany to boot.

Her tone came across as tight. “Are
they in Clarion? Whatever they are, you should stay away from
them.”

“
Yeah, well they’re
clients.”

More silence. Then, “Tiffany, you be
very, very, careful.”

“
Always,” I said, and hung
up before she could call me out on that.

I tucked the journal among the
telephone directories and stood at the table, gnawing on my lower
lip, thinking. Gia and Daven had to be Gelpha who made me see them
as human. No other explanation.

“
At times like this, I
regret being dead,” Jack said. “What I wouldn’t give to go with
you.”

“
What
I
wouldn’t give to go anywhere!” from
Mel. “And I always regret being dead.”

I paused on my way out the kitchen.
“You must do. I’m sorry.”

“
Aw, don’t feel bad, honey.
It’s not your fault. We’re lucky to be here with you. I can’t
imagine what it’s like for all the ones who are alone.”

“
Still. . . .” I peered
into her eyes. “Why don’t you and Jack go on your way, Mel? Your
killer is long dead, there’s nothing to keep you here.”

“
The same reason you didn’t
sell the house and move on when you found us,” Jack
said.

“
This is our home. You’re
our family. We belong,” Mel said. “And. . . . And we don’t know
what waits on the other side.”

***

I eyed Gia Sabato and Daven Clare
across the leather trunk. Royal sat on the couch facing them. He
gestured at the space next to him, expecting me to join
him.

“
Would you like to make
yourself comfortable?” Gia asked.

“
I’m fine right here.” I
glared down at the exquisite black-haired woman in her pale
turquoise silks and matching diamond and turquoise jewelry. I bet
every one of those stones was real.

She gave a long-suffering sigh. “As
you wish.”

I pulled my Ruger.

I rehearsed this driving over. Except,
now I faced them and they gave me their full attention, staring at
me through narrowed eyes, it no longer seemed like a good idea. I
forced out the words, trying not to sound like I strangled on them.
“I know Royal is fast and I get the feeling you have a few tricks
up your sleeve, but I have a firm grasp of my weapon, and I don’t
think anyone can take it away from me.”

“
Tiff, you - ”

“
Shut up,
Royal.”

Gia now looked totally at ease, not as
if an angry woman pointed a gun at her. She arched one delicate
eyebrow. “I don’t like threats, Miss Banks, and I suggest you
explain yourself before you get hurt.”

Hurt? Gulp.
Sweat trickled from my hairline down my
neck.
“Whatever you did to Royal, you undo
it right now.”

I settled into my stance and steadied
my aim. If she came at me, I’d try for a disabling wound, but a
person is nothing like a target at a shooting range and your own
humanity knows. Leastways, mine does. The last time I shot someone,
I aimed for the shoulder and hit him just above the
clavicle.

Gia and Daven stared at me, and maybe
I imagined something inhuman in their gaze. My palms started to
slick over. “I want to know what’s going on, what’s really going
on.” I shifted my gaze to Daven. “Where did you and Royal go, and
why? And what did you do to him?”

“
Do to him?” he drawled,
looking relaxed and amused.

I made an annoyed noise in my throat
as I looked over at Gia. “I’m not stupid. I know you did something
to make me agree to see you at my house. I know you did something
to keep Royal quiet.”

Gia glanced over at Royal. “You’re
right, she is smart.”

Daven and Gia exchanged meaningful
looks. The sweat dribbling down my spine made my back itch
something awful.

“
Miss Banks,” Daven began.
“May I call you Tiffany?”

“
Only if you want my foot
up your ass.”

Gia’s eyes narrowed like an angry cat,
or like Mac in one of his moods.

“
It’s Tiff,” Royal said
quickly with a hint of desperation in his voice. “She prefers
Tiff.”

Gia stared up at me. “Look at me,
Tiff.”

I looked all right, but not in her
eyes. You don’t look directly in a demon’s eyes unless you want to
fall under their spell. I already made that mistake
once.

But then she stood right in front of
me, her face just inches from mine. I didn’t have time to wonder
how she got there, or remind myself demons can move real fast. The
gun went from my hand, I didn’t feel it leave. Gia shoved my
shoulder. My feet left the floor, I flew backwards. The backs of my
knees hit the back of the couch and the rest of me went over. My
head swung down and hit the floor, and I followed it
down.

Dazed and disoriented, I fixated on a
dust bunny which had escaped Royal’s cleaning regime and hid out
under the couch. So he wasn’t Mr. Perfect Housekeeper after
all.

But a pair of fashionably clad feet
distracted me as they tapped over the floor and stopped inches from
my face. “I told you, I don’t like threats,” Gia said. Her voice
sounded muffled, like she spoke underwater. Her hand clamped on my
braid.

I grabbed her ankles and bit one,
though I didn’t break the skin. Not an elegant fighting technique,
but I don’t have a technique. I use what’s available, kind of like
an inept Jackie Chan.

Gia yelped and let me go. She yelled
something unintelligible. I couldn’t hear properly, like I wore a
muffler around my head. Had my eardrums burst? Fingers like talons
dug in my shoulders and hoisted me up. I opened my mouth so I
didn’t take a piece of Gia with me.

I dangled from her hands with my toes
off the floor. Gia didn’t look attractive now, she looked ugly, her
face twisted, her eyes black pools too close to mine.

I took hold of her upper arms and
head-butted her in the face.

I don’t remember flying across the
room to the far wall. I must have flown, because I hit the
medium-size Christmas tree a foot or so above the floor. At least
the tree broke my fall. I lay still, wheezing, tangled in merrily
blinking, multicolored lights with the silvery ultra-thin shards of
shattered glass ornaments glittering all over me. Gia stalked over.
My head should have broken her nose, but I couldn’t see I did more
than make her madder.

I gulped in air and tried to pull
myself together, literally and figuratively. I struggled to break
free and almost succeeded in bringing the tree down on top of
me.

“
Oops!” I ground out
through my teeth. “Clumsy ol’ me.”

I guess Gia didn’t appreciate my
humor. She bent, snarling, her mouth twisted. Her hands fastened on
the neck of my T-shirt and hauled me upright. The lights and tree
came with me, the tree toppling to lie along my back, artificial
branches digging through my shirt into my skin.

Royal had not moved, he still sat on
the couch, hunched over, hands fisted, shaking from head to toe.
Daven was on his feet, obviously yelling, but I couldn’t hear him
either. Gia tugged me to her, her face so close I felt her breath
on me.

My own muted hearing gave me an idea,
but first I punched her in the chest. Only a woman knows how
painful a blow to the breast is. That took her back a step. Then I
swung my arms up, elbows bent, and clapped my palms over her ears,
jerked them away hard and fast. Do it right and you can rupture the
eardrums. I practiced on a dummy in self-defense classes, but never
on a person, so didn’t trust its effectiveness. But it must have
caused her some discomfort because she gasped, let go of me and
backpedalled.

I stood, swaying, and I didn’t know
what to do except wait for her next move. She had the advantage of
incredible speed and strength. I’m a big girl, yet she tossed me
like I weighed nothing. She was going to kill me.

Gia launched off the ground and soared
at me, like she flew - and Daven caught her out the air and held
her tight to him with her hands pinned to her sides. She struggled
and spat and he held on, gritting his teeth, swayed by the violence
of her writhing.

My ears popped.

“
Gia, listen to me,” Daven
growled at Gia. But she wasn’t listening, and when she broke free
she’d be at me again.

I played my only card. I think I
shouted, but my voice sounded distant. “Don’t you want to know what
happened to Rio Borrego?”

Gia’s face smoothed out. Daven’s arms
relaxed around her. “I doubt you know anything about Rio,” she
snarled, but she sounded uncertain.

I drew in a careful breath. It didn’t
hurt too much. “I have information which may lead us to him, if you
let me and Royal do our job instead of trying to control
us.”

Gia frowned. “What do you
know?”

I pulled a string of lights from
across my chest and moved out the way. The tree slid off my back,
hit the ground, and more lights shattered, tiny silvered shards
spraying the wood floor. I felt like hell, but Gia looked fine. No
blood, no bruising, her hair in place and shining like black onyx.
“Not until you undo whatever you did to Royal.”

“
If you are lying, I
promise I won’t hold back.” She wrenched free of Daven’s arms. “And
you won’t stop me,” she told him.

“
Gia,” he chided
softly.

Concentrating on breathing,
I hobbled over to Royal. Nothing felt broken, but I hurt just about
every place on my body. She wouldn’t hold back, she said?
If that was holding back, I would not survive an
unrestrained attack.

Royal looked ready to explode. Anger,
anguish and fear shook him. His emotions raced over his face and
turned his eyes stormy. Right then I hated our clients for pinning
him down while Gia tossed me across the room, not for my sake, but
for his. It must have been hell for him. Tears shone in his
eyes.

Gia and Daven settled on
the facing couch. “I need to look into Royal’s eyes to remove
the
geis
,” Gia
said.

Royal got to his feet. “Royal, do not
get between us. Go around the back of the couch,” I managed to
croak.

I swayed a little as he walked behind
the couch, and back around so he stood at Gia’s side, but I
absolutely refused to fall. She stared at me a good long time as I
sweated some more, then turned her head to him.

I had a horrible thought: she could
hex him so he’d attack me.

Royal sagged and grabbed the arm of
the couch. I wanted to go over and help him, but he got himself
upright and came to me, and anyway, I didn’t have the strength. His
arm came around my shoulders and hugged me fiercely, which hurt,
and I flinched. He eased the pressure, but I thought he might bite
through his lip. I prayed that now Gia had freed him, his barely
restrained anger would not make him do something rash.

But who was I to talk?