Unearthed (27 page)

“Yes, madam,” was all he said. Then he shut the doors, and she put her head down again and went to work on that shit.

“The butler,” Hendricks said, looking across the room. He saw the guy emerge from that same hallway again, but this time something was different. He was different, somehow. Back straighter, maybe? He had his hands folded behind his back, then he brought them to the front, clapping them together once, so sharply that the sound rang out over the entire room like a thunderclap, prompting immediate silence.

“If I may have your attention please, ladies and gentlemen,” the butler called in that Chicago accent, that street-mook-sounding motherfucker. “I am afraid that the party is going to have to come to an earlier than anticipated end.”

“Why?” someone called over the crowd. Hendricks didn’t see who said it, but they sounded half in the bag. Maybe all the way in the bag, given how muffled they were. Other voices followed.

The butler clapped again. “My mistress bids me to inform you that the party must end early for circumstances beyond her control … namely that we have three uninvited guests—an OOC and two demon hunters.” Hendricks felt his stomach drop, watched the heads start to swivel. “And they are right … there.” The butler pointed directly at them, and what felt like a thousand demon eyes went straight to them.

“Shit,” Hendricks said, and didn’t even hesitate. He drew his sword out of the cane and started hacking his way toward the butler as hell broke loose.

“Something’s definitely going on in there,” Belzer said. “The valets are turning toward the house, and—what the fuck?”

Lauren watched with him, though she got the unmagnified view. The people just looked small to her, the valets’ expressions not visible at this distance and with this poor lighting. She saw them turning, that was obvious, but it wasn’t until the doors burst open that she got an inkling of what they might have been turning toward. And the doors did burst open, there was no other descriptor that fit; a whole flood of people—demons, she corrected herself—came rushing out the doors, down the steps, knocking over valets and causing general chaos. Some of them went for the valet keybox; others just ran off into the night, sweeping into the parking lot with a complete lack of care for their next move. Two of them ran by at a speed just under that of a car on a freeway. Lauren felt the vehicle rock in their wake like she’d just gotten passed by a semi truck.

“What the actual fuck?” Lauren just sat there, stunned, and watched the mass exodus unfold.

“Bill, what’s going on?” Arch could feel the alarm bells ringing in the back of his head, panic causing a subtle reverb through his body as he lay there, prone, staring through the scope as the party was emptying. It wasn’t emptying calmly, either; it was a natural disaster turned loose. It was panic in the cornfields, demon people running out into the night. Cars were starting, lights flashing on and illuminating the front of the Venus Plantation, a shining white beacon in the night.

“Looks like chaos from here,” Bill said. “I see Hendricks, he’s got his sword out, making his way through the crowd. Duncan’s got his baton up, Alison has a gun in her hand. It’s gone FUBAR in there, Arch.”

Arch gritted his teeth; he knew what FUBAR meant, even if he didn’t acknowledge it. “Time to start drawing targets, then.”

“I’d be careful about that,” Bill said. “Some of these people might not be demons, a whole mess of them are running, and you ain’t that practiced with a rifle.”

Arch knew the truth in his father-in-law’s words. He choked on it, in fact, like something caught in the back of his throat, keeping him from breathing. He just sat there and watched as the havoc spilled out, and cars started to tear out of there like they were trying to escape the end of the world.

Hendricks advanced through the crowd, discarding the sheath part of his cane and letting the blade fly free. He jabbed, stabbed, sliced and generally made a nuisance of himself. He was surprised at the lack of resistance. A few demons went poof after he made his opening moves, and most of the rest just parted like the Red Sea, running toward the door with screams on their lips.

“What a bunch of pussies,” he said as he advanced on the butler, who was slowly backing down the hallway, watching him all the while. He lashed out. The point of his blade found someone’s shoulder, and he watched the ebony fire eat through them and their fancy clothing, consuming them whole.

“You like pussy, don’t you?” the butler asked, grinning as he kept backing up.

“It depends on how much I enjoy fucking each particular one,” Hendricks said, returning the grin. “You, I don’t think I’d enjoy very much, so I don’t really like you.” He stood at the mouth of the hallway and the butler had his back against a set of double doors. That was where the royals had gone with the other bodyguards. All sorts of trouble behind that door. Hendricks let his left hand fall to his hip, wished he had his gun. It would have been a nice way to slow the fucker down.

“Aren’t you worried about your friends?” the butler asked, leering at him.

Hendricks swung his head ninety degrees, enough to let him see that Alison and Duncan were in some kind of fight on the other side of the room, a few demons all around them. Most of the ballroom was clear except for the stragglers—and that fucking gourmand hitting the buffet table, scooping shit up into his pockets. Hendricks found himself wishing he actually had killed that guy first.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and spun back to see the demon butler opening the door and slipping in. “Fucker!” he called and charged it, slamming a shoulder into the door and knocking it open before the butler could close it. He tilted, a little off balance, in the middle of the room as he heard the door slam behind him now.

There wasn’t much in the way of demon royalty in the room; that was the first thing he noticed. Only one, actually. Sort of.

Kitty Elizabeth had her head down in the big, white bowl that he’d seen the butler carry in earlier, the top of her platinum blond hair visible over the edge. Her face came up with what looked like Harley-Quinn-style makeup. It took him a moment to realize it was a mask of cocaine. She was giggling, the powder was belching forth with each little laugh like a subtle storm cloud rolling across a summer sky. Her eyebrows were so white with the stuff that she looked almost comical, and she just would not stop giggling.

“Where’s the other guy?” Hendricks asked, looking around like the dude would come jumping out from behind the couch with his entire bodyguard force in tow.

Kitty Elizabeth laughed loudly, and another billow of white powder wafted through the air toward him. Hendricks held his breath. “You didn’t know they were dead?” She folded at the midsection, carefully holding the bowl, taking care not to let it drop. She was Gollum with the ring, hoarding the bowl and keeping it away from him. As if he gave a fuck.

Hendricks looked back at the butler, who blocked the door with his body. “No,” he said. “I didn’t know they were dead.”

“And you came charging in here anyway?” She stood up straight, now holding the big bowl against her side like it was a baby on her hip. “You’ve got balls, guys.” She snickered and a layer of cocaine sloughed off her face. “I kinda wanna … like, cut your scrote open just to see if they really are abnormally large.”

Hendricks didn’t look back, just thrust his sword to where he knew the butler had been standing a moment earlier. He heard a grunt that told him he’d struck the bastard and pulled his sword back while Kitty Elizabeth stared at him, blinking in surprise. “They are abnormally large,” Hendricks said. “They are mighty.”

Kitty Elizabeth’s amusement faded and a knife appeared in her hand, an ornate piece of shiny steel with a wicked-looking blade. “Show me.” She dropped the bowl of coke, and it exploded in a powdered storm.

“Uh, no,” Hendricks said and slung his sword forward. “Unfortunately for you, I’m not so cavalier about walking around and flashing my stuff to just anyone …” His voice trailed off as he stared at the tip of his blade. It was darkened, something running down the shining steel, a steady drip of red that looked an awful lot like—

The butler slammed into Hendricks from behind, knocking him off balance and sending a tearing pain through his back. His knees buckled from the hit, and then he slammed into the floor. He heard a crack of bone on tile, hard surface meeting his jaw as the world flashed in front of him. He picked his head up as soon as he could feel his thoughts coming back to himself, and he saw a pair of shiny leather boots right in front of his nose. One of them kicked him in the face. He heard a crack and blood came pouring down, spattering on the tile below him.

Just like the blood he’d seen on the tip of his sword.

“Human,” Hendricks muttered. The taste of blood was in his mouth as it ran down the back of his throat, steely and metallic. He could feel it flooding his sinuses, threatening to choke him. “Your butler’s a fucking human.”

The boot lanced out again and kicked him, causing his eyes to flash. “I hire lots of humans,” Kitty Elizabeth said from above him. He couldn’t lift his head high enough to see her. His arm was pinned, his sword was gone. “I like human men for their disposable qualities. They make the best slaves.”

He tried to look up at her, but couldn’t see any farther than her knees. “Don’t expect me to call you master anytime soon,” he said and spit some blood on her boots.

She kicked him in the collarbone and he heard something break. She pushed her toe against him, drawing the pain out, making his arm scream at him, making it shout, like she’d thrust a knife in there. “Don’t spit that shit on me,” she said, and he felt the weight leave his back. A strong hand grabbed him by the shoulder, fingers squeezing tight into his flesh and causing the bone to scream, scream bloody murder and pain. He almost passed out, and she pulled him right up to look her straight in the clown-white face, her eyes a flaming red. “You’re an idiot.” She grinned. “I like that in a slave. It means if I can teach you how to listen, you’ll be exactly what I want.”

Hendricks could taste his own blood, could still feel the warmth dripping down his upper lip and settling there in the half-assed mustache and beard he’d been growing. “Don’t … fucking count on it.”

She grabbed him by the crotch and he felt a new sensation of aching, vomit-worthy pain as she grabbed his boys and squeezed them hard enough to jerk a tear out of his eye. “Do you count on these? Because I count two right now, and if you want to keep even one of them, you’ll learn to listen.” Her voice perked up. “But what am I saying? We have all the time in the world to get acquainted, to get used to our new working relationship. You call me ‘mistress,’ and I call you ‘slave,’ okay?” She nodded, staring into his eyes, like she expected him to do the same.

Hendricks had to struggle to get words out. “Fuc—”

“Nope.” She smashed something against the side of his head and the world went white. Hendricks’s eyes squeezed shut involuntarily, and when he opened them the world was alive with white clouds, like a summer-day sky floating by. “It’s okay, though. You’ll learn.” Hendricks felt numbness and something pressing against his cheek like a hard fingernail, but dulled. He looked down to see a knife resting on his cheekbone. “We’re going to have lots of fun together, you and me.” Her eyes were lively, with that red shining through. “Or at least I’m gonna have fun, one way or another.” He felt a sharp stab as the knife sank down and jabbed him somewhere below the waist. “Count on
that
.”

“Alison and Duncan have about ten guys on ’em,” Bill said into Arch’s ear. He could hear the man talking over the ruckus down in front of the house, but only barely. Car alarms were blaring now, too, adding to the general uproar. The grand parting of the demon company had slowed, the spillage out of the front door having subsided to a trickle at this point. “They look big and mean.”

“You gonna shoot ’em?” Arch asked, and then a thundering boom came from down the line, where Bill was perched.

“Where I’m able,” Bill said, louder than a whisper. “I’d rather not shoot my daughter.”

It took a second for Arch to realize what Bill hadn’t said. “But you’re okay with shooting Duncan?”

There was a pause before the answer came. “He can take it.” Another shot followed, summer thunder without the lighting.

Lauren damned near shit herself when the first loud shot ripped through the night. She thought she’d heard shooting before, inside, a steady series of crackling pops that weren’t unlike milk on cereal, the sound muffled by the walls between them. This shot, though, it came like a bolt out of the sky, loud as hell and a lot closer. It came from the woods to her right, and it hastened the departure of a few of the demon people that had been lingering in the lighted parking lot, sending them sprinting away into the dark of night.

She saw a man stagger toward them then veer off as he ran past, sprinting at a speed a normal man just couldn’t go. It was physically impossible, what she was seeing, but it happened, and the guy illustrated the point by jumping over a car as it screeched by, a big SUV with its tires squealing as it burned out of the parking lot and onto the road leading out of there.

“Whoa!” Belzer called, and he was out of the car, standing up like an idiot, hanging on his door watching the leaping guy head off into the night. “Did you see that?”

“What are you doing out of the car?” Lauren asked, that panicked feeling rising. “They can see you!”

“I gotta get some pictures!” Belzer said, leaning down. “The coast is clear; I’m heading inside to take a snap or two with my phone.”

Lauren swiveled her head to look at the entry to the Venus Plantation house. Yes, it did look clear. Yes, there were no demons hanging around immediately outside. But hadn’t there just been a whole fucking lot of them coming out of those very doors? Lauren had seen what those things could do; it wasn’t pretty. She didn’t have a whole lot of desire to see their work again up close.