Demigod Down (15 page)

“No, my job is to execute rouge
supernaturals. If I kill people I tend to get into trouble,” I
clarified for him my eyes dancing with mischief.

He nodded, apparently put slightly at ease by
that statement as we moved to get into his SUV.

Closing the doors solidly, he asked, “How do
you define rouge supernaturals?”

“Usually they kill supernaturals or humans
without cause, occasionally they violate the Councils more severe
laws,” I answered with a shrug.

“But the Council doesn’t use any jails?” He
drove us over to the park, singling as we left the police station
parking lot.

“Nope. We fine people extraordinary amounts
of money when they irritate me or undermine the natural order of
things, but usually when they go off the deep end, they really go
off.”

O’Conner rolled down this window resting his
arm on the frame, “That seems harsh.”

“Yet highly effective.” We pulled up to the
abandoned park and we both swept the scene in front of us before
getting out of the vehicle.

“I suppose.” Satisfied , we both got out.

“You prepared?” I watched his shoulders tense
up as we both continued to scan the area.

“Always, just not a fan of snakes, or bugs,
or creepy crawling things in general.” He shivered.

I patted him on the back as we made our way
to the same table I had sat on earlier, “Don’t worry big boy, I’ll
protect you.”

His shoulders relaxed as his mischievous
smile made an appearance. “I plan to take you up on that.” We slid
onto the bench, each of us facing opposite directions.

“Think Roslyn will show up?”

“I hope not, last thing I need is a civilian
getting in the way.” He leaned back, hands braced behind him. “If
this giant snake actually exists.”

“You doubt the picture?” I scanned the
shadows.

“I doubt anything I can’t see with my own
eyes,” he replied warily. “And I have seen a lot.”

“It’s draining,” I confirmed.

“It can be,” he agreed shrugging, “I like to
surround myself with beautiful women and whisky to drown my
sorrows.”

I laughed fully. “This gig must be cramping
your style,” I informed him.

“Eh, it’s not without its perks, for example
I get to speed as often as I like,” O’Conner stated, scanning the
area ahead of him. “It’s going to be awhile, if at all, the
bewitching hour according to Rosalyn is after midnight.”

“Of course it is.” I groaned, rubbing the
back of my neck.

A few drunk stragglers wondered through the
park at an early hour, hooting and hollering. Casting a look back,
O’Conner lit another cigarette, unconcerned with their antics.

“I should probably warn you I am terrible at
stake outs.” I warned O’Conner.

He barked a short laugh. “Not a fan of
staring alert for hours on end with the possibility of seeing
nothing.”

I groaned. “So painfully accurate.”

O’Conner was far better at staying alert than
I was, tracking shadows and listening intently for usual noises. It
was also possible he was scared. I was annoyed and bored. My mind
kept wandering back to Franks and the disaster that was the police
department of St Ann. I couldn’t kill them all I realized with a
huff.

Since the vampires and shifters had revealed
their presence to the human public, the government had pressed
their noses into business that did not belong to them. Thankfully,
I had kept control of the enforcement, mainly due to threatening,
fear, and Gram’s superb manipulation. I wasn’t a fool though, I
knew eventually they would try to expand their control in order to
give themselves some sense of safety.

The simple, pure, undiluted truth was that it
didn’t take a supernatural to inflict widespread pain. Humans had
plenty of evidence in their history of cruelty and suffering
inflicted by humans on humans. I like to think that in the
Supernatural community, we were more effective at eliminating those
threats.

I would like to think that it happened less,
given the extreme consequences, but it also made it harder to
track.

I was so engrossed in my own musing that I
didn’t even register the slithering creature approaching from my
left, the light from the street lamps reflecting off its green and
blue stripped hide until it was close enough to pounce.

O’Conner had grown eerily still and I assumed
that he had also noticed it.

“She is beautiful,” he whispered and without
thinking, I turned to see what he was looking at.

Another snake was in front of him, an arm’s
length away, standing just as in the picture with creamy belly
scales reflecting the moonlight. The hood extended as it swayed
back and forth rhythmically.

“O’Conner it’s a-“ my words ended in a yelp
as the snake I had taken my eyes off pounced on me. I slid off the
table with its momentum. Landing heavily on my back, I got my hands
up just in time to keep the razor sharp fangs from piercing my
jugular.

“You fuckers are heavier than you look!” I
groaned, feeling the slapping of the tail against my ankle. The
muscles in my arms strained with the effort of keeping its fangs
off of me. As enjoyable as this workout was, I couldn’t keep this
up forever. With one final shove of strength, I pushed its head to
the right thankful it kept the same pressure as its fangs buried
into the soft grass and dirt at my shoulder.

Not wasting a golden opportunity, I rolled
off the knife strapped at my back, my legs still pinned by the
snakes lower body, pulling it from the sheath in one swift move
before slicing out into the thick scaled skin. The fucker was fast
and what I had hoped would be a debilitating stab to the back of
the head was a small nick to the side of its neck.

Dammit.

Silently, it coiled, its yellow eyes not
leaving my own.

“Thought you fuckers could speak?” I rasped
out, balancing on the balls of my feet.

The snake hissed as O’Conner’s voice reached
me. “I understand,” he whispered. I took a risky glance in his
direction, finding the snake far too close to him for my
liking.

Dammit.

Changing the direction of my launch, I
tackled O’Conner off the table, our shoulders taking the impact as
we hit the ground and I forced us to roll away not listening to his
soft cries of being ripped away from his ‘one true love’ in highly
accented Irish.

Scrambling into a crouch, I stowed my blade
in favor of the dual guns keeping O’Conner’s dazed form behind me
as the snake that had attacked me moved onto the table while
O’Conner’s ‘beauty’ stood up again, revealing its pale cream belly
to the moonlight.

“Oh me bloody head,” O’Conner whined behind
me.

Blowing out a breath, I trained both guns on
the closest snake squeezing off rounds into its mouth, hoping that
the two clips I had would be enough for both of them.

It went down with an awful howl, thrashing
and slapping the ground with its tail, its face a mess of shredded
green slim.

Turning my attention to the other slithering
beast, I hardly got the first shot out into its mouth when its body
slammed into me, pressing me flat against the grass and O’Conner.
Gritting my teeth, I tried to ignore the pain from razor fang
imbedded into my wrist. Screaming, I pulled the triggers blowing
out the back its head as green slime flew out to coat my face and
hands.

“O’Conner?” I hissed, trying to keep the
green goop from getting into my mouth.

He groaned a response.

“O’CONNER!” I screamed.

“Not so loud lass,” He groaned, moving out
from underneath me.

So he was totally worthless. I groaned
releasing my guns still in the mangled snake’s mouth as I used my
uninjured hand to pull the fang out of my wrist.

“Fucker,” I hissed as green slime coated my
hands and previously clean guns.

Pulling my feet underneath me, I stood
storing my guns before kicking the hopefully lifeless corps of the
giant and not talking snake.

Was it wrong I was slightly disappointed they
hadn’t actually talked? Although they did seem to have some
hypnotic power given O’Conner’s response. Why it didn’t work on me
was anyone’s guess.

Neither beast moved, although O’Conner was
rolling around clutching his head, I wish I had my own vehicle
right now.

My wrist dripped bright red blood into the
crisp green grass. Sighing, I turned to O’Conner and hauled him up
by the back of his shirt.

“Let’s go, handsome,” I grunted under his
weight as we made our shaky way back to his SUV. Leaning him
against the passenger side, I used my good hand to search him for
the keys.

His head rolled back as he muttered nonsense.
I hit pay dirt in his front jean pocket and he slid down to the
asphalt when my injured wrist would no longer support him, landing
with a thump.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, I used his
keys to unlock the door, securing them safely in my pocket before I
hoisted him back up, tossing his ass ungracefully into his
vehicle.

Checking the snakes, I found their bodies in
the same place I had shot them in. I was uneasy, leaving before I
knew for absolutely certain if they were dead, but O’Conner needed
medical attention and I needed my wrist bandaged up before it
caused me massive blood loss. Not to mention who knew what the
green slime would do.

Flipping the keys in my hand, I turned away
getting into the SUV. He was going to have a hell of a time getting
the green slime stain out, I thought wickedly.

A few blocks away from the park, O’Conner
made a miraculous improvement, pushing up in the seat looking
groggily around.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, taking in
my bloody wrist and slimed clothing.

“The good news is we got the snakes, the bad
news is your SUV is probably going to stink for awhile,” I teased
him, winching as I made the turn and my wrist pounded
painfully.

“The last thing I remember is a beautiful
woman in white walking towards me. She spoke to me too,” he said
shocked as he pulled out his cell phone.

“Apparently they could put their victims into
some sort of trance,” I agreed with him. “But trust me, the corpses
are of giant snakes. No one talked to me though.”

O’Conner gave me a small, shaky smile before
putting his phone to his ear relaying the events as we pulled into
the precinct and next to my car.

Pushing open the door, I went to the back of
my SUV pulling out the first aid kit bathing my wrist in painful
antiseptic before wrapping it up with a groan.

Dead snakes fucking suck, what an awful slimy
mess I thought to myself as I pulled off my boots while my phone
began ringing. I gave thought to letting it just go to voicemail as
I rested against the open tailgate of the SUV, but something made
me pull it out with slimy fingers from my jacket pocket answering
on speaker phone.

“You need to get to Centennial House
immediately,” an unknown voice stated. “Blake is in trouble,”
before the line went dead.

I looked down at the black screen, fear
swirling in my gut. This did not bode well.

Turning to O’Conner, I threw him the towel
from the back of the SUV.

“Trouble?” he asked using the towel to wipe
green slime from his face.

“Yeah, I gotta head back,” I answered,
pulling off my shirt and pants making quick work with the baby
wipes as I pulled as much slime off as possible before pulling on a
clean tank top and jeans. Throwing my dirty clothing into a plastic
bag along with my shoes.

I went around to the driver’s side of my
ride, throwing open the door. “Thanks for your help!” O’Conner
called.

Starting the SUV, I sped away. Oklahoma
wasn’t done with me, of that I was certain. I had more pressing
problems to deal with at the moment.

Hitting the call button on the steering
wheel, I dialed Grams.

“What?” she answered groggily.

“I need you to send someone to check on Blake
at the Centennial House. Someone just called me that he is in
trouble at the house,” I ordered her.

“But you are okay?” she asked, waking up
slightly.

“Yes,” I growled, “But Blake might not
be.”

“Alright,” she said groaning as I heard the
sheets move around her. “When will you be back?”

“Three hours.” I groaned, pressing the
accelerator down. It had taken me five hours to get down here.
Nothing would stop me from returning as quickly as I could.

I ended the call, trusting Grams to keep
Blake safe until I could get there and hating that in his moment of
need I was busy hunting down overgrown snakes to satisfy my thirst
for blood.

The drive back was a white knuckle event,
keeping my eyes peeled open for any other vehicles in my way. I had
a few narrow misses that kept my adrenaline pumping when my energy
threatened to fail. Back in the city, I drove as though the police
were pursuing me, which thankfully they weren’t and I arrived at
the Centennial House in two hours and forty-six minutes.

Slamming the SUV into park before throwing
myself out at a run, I had a brief moment of hesitation when I
realized I was completely weaponless and shoeless, but I didn’t go
back. I needed to make sure Blake was alright.

The front doors of the House hung open, with
no guards present or receptionist to stop me. I barreled through
the doors and into a terrified Mal.

“Olie,” she whispered, pink tears threading
down her cheeks, a mix of blood and water. “I tried to stop them, I
tried, please, I don’t –“

“Where is he?” I asked icily.

She gulped terror at the situation and fear
of what I would do warring within her. I stepped closer to her, “If
you delay me here and any lasting damage is done to Blake, I
promise I will hunt down everyone you have ever loved while you
watch me bleed them.”

Her eyes wide, I knew I had created a rift
between us that one day I might regret, but at this moment I
couldn’t bring myself to care. Turning slowly she moved quickly
though the house, taking turns and hallways until we arrived at a
growing crowd.