Guardian's Hope (38 page)

Grace stepped forward and poked him in the
chest. He glared into her eyes. She glared right back. “Take her to
the bathroom.”

Smith blinked and shook his head. “Come on.”
He grabbed Hope’s arm and pulled her toward the door. Gor
immediately took a step to follow.

“Three’s a crowd,” whispered Hope and gave
Smith another wink.

“There’s barely room for two in that
bathroom. We’ll never fit three and neither of us’ll fit through
the window. Leave the fucking door open,” Smith poked his chin at
Grace, “and you can watch her and the bathroom at the same
time.”

“Yeah, you hunk of scaly beast. We could get
to know each other better.” Grace tried to smile invitingly and ran
her tongue over her lips. Her whole body shook with fear.

It was the perfect combination for Gor. He
showed his teeth in a mockery of a grin and licked his lips.
Grace’s fear was an appetizer and Gor was hungry for more.

Hope left Grace standing in the protective
patch of sunlight and preceded Smith into the bathroom. Before the
door was closed, she grabbed the first thing she saw; a dingy
toothbrush lying in the sink.

“Hey!”

Smith made a grab for her, but she stepped
back and dropped the toothbrush between them. Instead of falling to
the ground, it began to spin faster and faster. Smith stepped back,
eyes on the toothbrush and nothing else. Hope moved her finger and
the brush stopped and slowly turned until the head pointed down.
Suddenly it shot upward. Dust and bits of plaster fell on Smith and
he shut his eyes reflexively to protect them from the debris. When
he opened them, the toothbrush was imbedded in the ceiling.

“Holy shit.” There was caution in his eyes
now, but he held his ground. He wondered why the hell she hadn’t
killed him when he first answered the door and began to imagine all
the other things she could use as weapons.

“You’re right, Mr. Smith. I could have killed
you at your own front door and you’ve given me some great ideas for
future weapons.”

Everything depended on this first step. He
had to believe she could read his mind, not just his wants. Hope
prayed she sounded convincing. By the look on Smith’s face, she
must be.

“Yeah, well, parlor tricks make you a
magician. That don’t mean you can kill somebody with your tricks.”
He wanted to know if that was how she got away from the guys in the
van.

Perfect. “Yes, Mr. Smith, that’s how I got
away from those guys in the van.”

This time his eyes popped and he took a step
back. His thoughts skittered from place to place. Could the bitch
read minds? Did Damon know? Is that why he wanted her? Would he
trade Beauty for her? Smith wanted Beauty. He wanted to see how
much it would take to make the silent bitch scream.

Hope had to convince Smith she could read
minds, but to do that she needed him to give her an image of a want
or need. When it finally came, she was so repulsed by it, her hand
twitched and the mirror cracked. Smith jumped.

“I don’t like your thoughts, Smith.” She was
done being polite. “Makes me wonder how much it would take to make
you scream.” A piece of the mirror fell into the sink.

Smith’s body language gave him away. He was
now a believer.

She spoke with more confidence. “You have two
problems. The first is your buddy across the hall. The only reason
he hasn’t killed you is because Damon owns him and Damon wants to
watch him do it. Gore’s just waiting for an excuse to disobey.”

Smith tried to interrupt, but Hope was
prepared and held her hand up.

“Stop. Listen. We’re running out of time. You
think you’re so clever making Damon come to you.” She shook her
head at his stupidity. “You won’t leave this house alive. Damon
plans to kill you, not pay you. He never planned to pay you for
bringing me in. Once he has me, he won’t need you. Why pay for what
he doesn’t need.”

“Save your snarls for someone else,” she said
in reply to curled lip. “You want to know how I know all this? The
same way I know what you’re thinking. I took it from his mind. I
don’t have to be all that close. I can read your thoughts from
across the room or across the street. Choose, Smith. Get your money
from Damon and live happily ever after or stay here and die.”

Smith wasn’t going to give in easily. “What
can you two do that I can’t?” he sneered.

“We can help you kill the demon across the
hall. You won’t be able to do it alone.”

*****

Tyn paced back and forth across the room. His
arms were flailing in every direction and his gleeful laugh sounded
similar to the squeal of a pig.

“She’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine,” he
squealed. He’d been wrong about his former boss and this proved it.
Might made right. All that time and money wasted. He should have
threatened the wormy human from the very beginning. Humans
responded so well to a direct approach. Tell them what you want and
tell them they’ll die if you don’t get it. Lesson learned.

Now all he had to do was wait for nightfall
to pick up his prize. Two prizes! It was like that Christmas he’d
heard so much about. He was so pleased, he thought Gor deserved a
reward. The next time he called in to grunt, Tyn would tell him to
enjoy his next meal on Tyn. He could have Smith! The human had his
uses, but he’d shown himself to be untrustworthy. He’d cheated his
boss and Tyn couldn’t stand a cheater. It could be weeks or months
before the body was found, if there was anything left of it to be
found.

He looked over at Beauty sitting quietly in
the corner. Her dead eyes stared at nothing. She really wasn’t much
fun anymore. Maybe one of the new ones could be her replacement.
Yes! That was it! That’s what he’d been doing all along. He’d been
looking for a replacement for Beauty.

“Go to your room,” he ordered. “Don’t come
out until I call.”

He watched her silently leave the room. He
owed her a lot. He’d give her one last night before he put her to
work with the other minionettes. Tomorrow night her name would
become number five.

Now, he only had to deal with the damned
Guardians. He could handle that. Things were looking up.

*****

Even after Hope explained it all the second
time, Smith’s response was the same; an unbelieving snort of
derision and while she despised this man, she couldn’t fault his
disbelief.

“I don’t like you, Mr. Smith. I don’t think
I’ve hid that from you. I think you’re vile, the lowest form of
humanity, yet compared with the thing in there, I’ll choose you as
an ally. That should tell you something. Now, we’re going to open
that door and you’re going to see something you never thought
possible. If you still don’t believe me, you can lock us back in
that room and nothing is lost. If you change your mind, you need to
move. Fast. Bring me something I can use. We don’t know how long
Grace can hold him.

“If he’s such a big bad demon,” Smith said it
like a schoolyard taunt, “How can she hold him at all.”

Hope sighed with impatience. “I told you,
with her eyes. Now open the door. Quietly.”

“You first.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” She pushed him aside,
almost into the bathtub. At least he remained quiet when her hand
touched the doorknob. The click sounded loud in the silence.

The bathroom door opened to a direct view of
the bedroom. Grace was out of the protective square of sunlight,
looking up into the eyes of the demon.

“Change for me, Gor,” she whispered, “Change
your face and hands so I can see the real you.”

Gor’s hand began to change, the fingers
elongating and fusing together until five became three. Smith
couldn’t see the demon’s face. The changing shape of the back of
its head was enough.

Hope saw Smith’s mouth open in horrified
protest and she pulled him past the open door. His face was pale,
his eyes wide with fear and, amazingly, with speculation. He wanted
to know how much Damon knew.

She pushed him toward the stairs. Damon,
demon,” she hissed in his ear, “He’s one of them you idiot.
Go!”

The next few minutes seemed to last forever.
Hope stood in the hall, to the right of the door, out of sight
should the demon turn. She could hear Grace’s constant murmur. How
long could she hold him? Grace didn’t have much experience and Hope
knew how exhausting using her powers could be.

Smith returned with a screwdriver sporting a
heavy, twelve inch shaft. He shrugged, hands splayed wide to say it
was the best he could do for a weapon.

She closed her eyes and signaled ‘go’ to
Grace. The message she got back was one of exhaustion.

Smith was right behind her when she entered
the room. Whether Grace’s hold was weakening or their movement
caused his doglike concentration to break, Gor as a human turned to
face them and threw himself at Hope when he saw the raised
screwdriver in her hand. He roared his rage and his massive hand
swiped back, connecting with Grace’s head in a sickening thud.

She was supposed to have time to concentrate
on her aim. She was supposed to have the broad, clear target of his
back. She wasn’t supposed to see his face or his eyes.

The screwdriver flew from Hope’s hand with
the force of her fear and the force of Gor’s lunge threw him onto
the head where it buried to the hilt. She had a fleeting glimpse of
terror and surprise in his dark feral eyes before the force of his
charge bowled her out through the door and into the hall. The wall
cracked behind her as her back was thrown against it. She thought
it was her bones. She was buried under a mountain of flesh, her
face pressed against the demon’s chest. She couldn’t breathe and
struggled to turn her head to the side. The handle of the
screwdriver pressed into the right side of her neck, preventing
escape in that direction.

Panic rose with her chest crushed beneath the
beast and the smell of his blood tainting what little air she could
gasp. Without breath for a scream she whimpered. She pushed,
wriggled and kicked beneath the body, fighting for her freedom and
when it final rolled to the side, she crawled away on hands and
knees. She didn’t collapse, but rested her forehead on the floor
and mentally took stock of her body’s possible injuries. To her
surprise, there were none.

A moan from the bedroom brought her
staggering to her feet. She stepped cautiously over Gor’s legs and
into the bedroom. Grace was propped against the wall rubbing the
red welt on her left temple that was quickly forming an egg any
goose would be proud of.

“Are you all right?” Hope asked though she
could see it for herself.

“We did it,” Grace said incredulously. She
winked at Hope and smiled. “Not that I didn’t think we could.” She
smiled.

“You’re not supposed to lie to a sister,”
Hope replied, but she felt the smile on her own face. Her hands
shook, her knees shook, her whole body felt crushed and bruised and
she started to laugh. She’d never felt more alive.

Grace held her head in her hands, “Stop!” she
said, laughing herself. “It hurts.” She looked around the room as
if someone might be hiding in the empty space. “Where’s Smith?”

Hope checked the hall, empty but for the body
of Gor, and came back to sit beside Grace, copying her position
with legs splayed and head leaning back against the wall.

“He’s gone.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes,
catching their breath, keeping their thoughts to themselves until
Hope spoke for them both.

“What do we do now?”

“Exactly what I tell you to do, ladies,
exactly what I say.” Smith stood in the doorway with a gun.

Chapter 40

“Keep your eyes off mine.” Smith pointed the
gun at Grace. “And you,” the muzzle moved to Hope, “Keep those
fingers still.”

The women were too exhausted to do anything.
“Thanks for helping out, Mr. Smith.” Hope said Mister as if it were
a dirty word.

Smith grinned triumphantly. “Hey, you’re the
one that said you could kill him with your parlor tricks. I just
gave you the chance to prove it. Now I know you can do it, you’re
going to do it again. You’re going to take out Damon and I’m going
to take over the business.”

“It’s not that simple,” Grace winced and
rubbed the swollen bruise on her forehead.

“The deal was we take care of Gor, you take
us to Damon, get your money and run. You agreed.” Hope could see
what he wanted; a house of prostitution. Then another image
supplanted the first. Horribly ill young girls were used to satisfy
the sickest of sexual desires. Was this what Faith had been forced
to do? She covered her mouth and tried to turn her choked cry into
a cough.

“Did we shake on that? So we were agreed and
now we’re not. New deal is I get it all. Oh, and you two get to
work for me.”

“No,” Hope said when she’d recovered enough
to speak. “My deal or no deal. You’ll get no help at all.”

“You’ll help,” he leveled the gun at her.

“Go ahead. See what happens when Damon shows
up here and finds me dead or maybe you plan to drag my body through
the streets and dump it on his doorstep. You need me. You can’t
kill me.”

He pointed the gun at Grace. “I don’t need
her. I can find another way to hold Damon still.” His finger
tightened on the trigger.

“Stop it!” She started to throw out her hand,
but saw his finger tighten more. “What is it you want? What is it
we get in return?” There had to be a way out of this if she only
had time to think.

“I told you what I want, the business and you
get to live to enjoy it. Isn’t that what you offered me?”

“Give him what he wants, Hope,” Grace sounded
defeated. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed with resignation.
“We don’t have a choice. He knows about my eyes and your fingers.
He has us beat.”

Hope saw a flag with Canaan’s House crest
fluttering in the breeze. Grace wasn’t giving in or giving up. She
was preparing for reinforcements. Hope followed Grace’s eyes to the
square of sunlight on the floor. It had shrunk to a wide stripe. It
wouldn’t be long before it disappeared altogether as the sun sank
behind the houses to the west. Sunset wouldn’t be far behind.