No Rest for the Wicca (2 page)

I stopped waving as the shape suddenly disappeared. Off to my left I heard a loud thumping noise. I snapped my neck around, but saw nothing. Suddenly something grabbed my arm, jerked it back. The gourd went flying across the room.

Stupid Bitch.

I reached inside my breast pocket for my silver dagger, but the shape moved faster than I anticipated. It swept my feet out from under me in a single motion, dropping me to the floor. I rolled off to my left, avoiding the swift kick it aimed at my head.

“So you want to play dirty, do you?” I scooped my black bangs out of my eyes with a quick flick, thrust both arms straight out in front of me. “Me-ali, Ku-ali, Insuholi,” I said. Off to one side I caught a glimmer of a dark shadow.

Ah. I may have been wrong about you. Your brand of Wicca is eclectic, it seems.

“You bet your ass it is,” I murmured. “Ehabi. Er-aba, al-anon!”

Another whoosh of fetid air.
That’s not a Wiccan chant?

“No?” I shrugged. “Well, you recite one chant, you recite them all. They tend to blur together after a while. Eno-robi. Awara! Awara!”

You play dirty, bitch.
That’s Voo--

The dark energy in the room pulsed, and I knew the daemon had to be gathering all his strength. I’d caught him off guard, and the little bugger was M A D. The voodoo chant I’d uttered was one which would temporarily weaken him, but unless I acted fast, he’d gather up all his strength and strike at me. Even from the plane he was on, his energy might prove to be too much, unless I could catch him off-guard again.

The solution to the problem was simple. The daemon had found a portal enabling him to remain in this plane. I had to find it and shut it, the ideal scenario being him trapped on the other side when I did so.

My eyes scanned the study, searching for what I knew had to be here, in this room. Suddenly I felt a pricking at the back of my neck. I lashed out with my arm, sending sparks of energy flowing out of my fingertips. The dark shape materialized, folded itself into a compact ball, but not before I felt icy fingertips give a soft tug on my left breast.

“Pervert,” I muttered.

Hey, can’t blame a
daemon
for trying.
You’re a tasty dish.
How about spending eternity with a real man?

I moved around the room, searching the walls intently as I spoke. Suddenly I saw it. Hardly bigger than a pinhead and definitely not visible to the naked human eye, it rested just a quarter inch above the bay window’s drapery and glowed with a thin film of gray energy. Now, if I could only keep him distracted long enough to…

I whirled around, and in one swift motion shucked my jacket open and raised my blouse just enough to display an expanse of creamy white flesh.

“You sound inviting,” I purred. “Let’s see just what you’ve got, lover.”

The dark shadow materialized just off to my left. I could see his pocked and purpled face, the satisfied leer suffusing it.

Baby.
Come to Papa.

The shadow shifted and I felt him at my rear. Two huge, scale covered hands wound themselves around my middle, fumbled with my lacy
Victoria
’s Secret bra.

I let my body go just limp enough to give the impression his little seduction was working. “Ooh, Phenor,” I murmured. “You’ve got the moves, all right.”

You think that’s good.
Just wait
.

While the daemon fiddled with my bra hooks, I reached into my jacket pocket and removed three spikes. As his flabby lips closed over one nipple, I pirouetted away. Before he could realize what had happened, I sprang upward, where I gripped the curtain rod just below the portal’s mouth. I swung myself onto the cornice right next to the drapery. Thank God I worked out daily. It kept my weight steady, so the small ledge would support me. Another thrust into my jacket pocket, and I held my gilt-edged hammer aloft. I positioned the spike off to the left of the portal, and swung.

Clink! The point tapped neatly into place.

“By all I hold holy, I chasten you, Daemon. Enter your eternal plane. Begone from this place.”

You little tart, you tricked me
, he snarled.

“Yeah, it’s all part of the full-service. No extra charge.”

His lips cut back from black gums, teeth shaped like mini-razors.
You
play dirty. I like it. We’d make a good team. Come with me, temptress.

“What a kind offer, but I kind of like this realm, Phenor.”

Ah, you
don’t know what you’
d be missing.

“Oh, I think I do.
And I’ll pass.”

Are you sure? Take a chance, come with me, temptress. If you stay here—let’s just say you have no idea what’s in store for you.

For some strange reason those words sent a tingle slithering along my spine, but I shrugged it off. 
“Hey, I didn’t realize
daemon
s had the gift of prophecy
. Don’t take this personally, but I’ll take my chances here, thanks.”

As you wish, beauteous one
.
But if you should change your mind…

The daemon leapt upward, and just as his icy fingers brushed against my cheek, I hammered in the second spike.

“Begone from this plane. Leave this place in peace, and never return.”

I felt the daemon’s hand brush against my breast, and I whirled, hammer held high. “Definitely a pervert,” I muttered, and held out the third spike. “Now, you know what happens if I hammer this in, dontcha? Your spirit will be caught between two worlds. And according to daemon law…”

A
daemon
spirit caught between two worlds is subjugated to the one who destroyed it.
I would be his slave forever…no thank you!

I felt a hiss of air, a sharp burn at the back of my neck, and I saw the black shadow fold itself into a ball. It slid through the gray portal with a soft whoosh of air. I brought the hammer down hard, pounding the third spike into the wall. I lifted my head, sniffing the air.

The black energy faded. The daemon was contained inside the portal.

I gripped the rod and swung myself back down to the floor. A profound sense of relief suffused me, and I knew my mission had been successful. I slipped my hammer back inside my jacket, went back through the study into the foyer and over to the front door.

On the porch, Zandor paced back and forth. He looked up anxiously at me.

“Is it over?”

I nodded. “Feel free to move the family in, now. This place is daemon-free. Present company excluded, of course.”

His scaly face lit up with relief. “Oh, thank you, Ms. Hawkes. What a relief. You’ve no idea—“

I held up my hand. “I do, but save it. It’s all in a day’s work for me. But if you really want to thank me, a nice letter to my supervisor wouldn’t hurt.”

“I really want to show my appreciation.”

“Thanks, but it’s not necessary. All part of the job.”

“You went far above and beyond your duties just being in the same room as Phenor.”

“Yeah, I know. You didn’t warn me he was a letch. Bastard propositioned me.”

“All the more reason you should take a reward. How about some eye of newt and some sprigs of thyme?” Zandor insisted.

“No, really…”

He pulled open his jacket, revealing green and orange striped lining so bright it could blind a bat. From an inner pocket he withdrew a beautiful silver blade, clean, shiny. He waved it enticingly in front of me. “What respectable ghost hunter couldn’t use a new, shiny athame?”

Who indeed? I patted my jacket pocket, where my own dull, well-worn dagger rested. My fingers reached toward the blade. I pulled my hand back and shook my head. “I appreciate your generosity and your desire to show your appreciation, but the Department frowns upon accepting any tokens from clients. The letter will do just fine, thanks.”

Zandor shrugged, replaced the blade, and bowed. “Whatever you say, Morgan Hawkes, just know you have my undying gratitude. If you should ever need a favor, you have only to ask.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. Enjoy your home.”

I turned and walked away without a backward glance. Damn. Sometimes sticking to the rules really bit.

PIS Headquarters sat tucked away in the basement of Police Headquarters, a tall building in the middle of Central City’s business district. They said we shouldn’t take it personally, but I always believed in the old adage – location, location, location. Our location meant we were regarded as the lowest form of law enforcement, and I had no doubt it was true. The City felt its tax dollars were better spent on maintaining a force whose prime objective was to jail murderers and rapists, not dispense with ghouls who for some reason or another, refused to exit this plane of existence.

A helluva job, but someone had to do it.

I exited the elevator, gave the password to the guard on duty at the desk. I proceeded down the long corridor to my little cubbyhole located all the way at the end of the hall. I slipped inside, shrugged off my jacket, locked the door, and slumped behind my tiny desk. Pushed sideways into a corner, it held just enough space for my computer, cracked coffee mug, and a framed photograph of Xia and me on our High School graduation, smiling like nerds into the camera in our caps and gowns.

Better days? Possibly.

I put my feet up on its scarred top, leaned back in my threadbare chair and laced my hands behind my head. I eyed the mountain of papers sitting off to one side with trepidation.

When I’d worked Homicide, I’d had an admin to do my paperwork. Now, as a paranormal investigator (I liked the term so much better than Ghostbusters) I had to do it all on my own—plus, they’d thrown in several new reports just for the hell of it. And I couldn’t even score a shiny new dagger for my trouble. Bitch. Life could be so unfair.

My door inched open. I saw a shaggy, sandy cap of hair, a pair of cornflower blue eyes twinkling above a snub of a nose. A hand appeared, waving a white handkerchief.

“Very funny. You can come all the way in, Danny.”

“Whew.” Danny Robillard’s wide mouth slashed in a grin as he eased his slender frame into my cubbyhole.  “So does this mean you’re not mad over yesterday?”

I snorted. “It’s not the first time I’ve had my stapler and notebook glued to the blotter. The seat cushion’s a first, though.”

He chuckled, tapped the newspaper he held against his side. “Made you smile, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Especially after I got done wiping the Stick-Um off my brand new two hundred dollar leather pants. My sides ached from the laughter.” I shook my finger at him. “If you want my opinion, your latest pranks have been kinda lame. They lack originality. Frankly, we’ve all come to expect better from you.” I swung my feet off the desk, turned to boot up my computer. “So, how bad?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Whatever bet you made on how I’d react? You lost, right? You bet someone I’d lose my temper and start screaming up and down the hall, right?”

He blew out a sigh. “You’re an enigma, Hawkes. You never react the way anyone expects. At times you can be so calm, and others…”

“Yeah, a complete psycho. So, how bad did you lose?”

“Fifty bucks.” He put a finger against his lips. “Although the expression on your face when you realized you couldn’t jump up and run after me—wow! Priceless—almost worth the money.”

“I’m so glad I contribute to the amusement around here. Makes me feel like my life is worthwhile.  Besides, where else would I work where the captain’s right hand turns out to be an overgrown juvie?”

He grinned. “Nowhere else in Central City, for sure. So, how’d your day go?  Have a tough morning?”

“Not any more than usual. You vanquish one daemon, you vanquish them all. How’s about here? Everything quiet?”

His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Same old, same old. Nothing much changes in the day to day routine.”

My gaze flicked to the newspaper he held in one hand. The headline screamed out at me. I raised my eyes to his.

“Another one?”

“Yep.” He passed the paper to me. I took it and started reading. “This latest attack makes three women in the last two weeks.”

I nodded absently, my concentration centered on the article. “Um-hm.”

He jerked the paper out of my hand and rolled it into something resembling a baseball bat. “You can read later.” He smacked the rolled paper on the edge of my desk for emphasis. “Gilley wants to see you.”

My eyes narrowed into slits. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

He clucked his tongue against his cheek, crossed his arms.  “Such a positive attitude. Relax.”

“Where Gilley’s concerned, I never relax.” I studied him a moment. “You know what it’s about, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

I took a step toward him. “If you know, you’d better tell. Right now.”

He laughed. “I can’t, you know I can’t. But it’s something you’ll like. I think.”