The Demon Trappers: Foretold (31 page)

‘Hey!’ she said. ‘Are you nuts? This is a Grand Master’s house.’

The little Magpie paused, then shrugged like it was no big deal.

‘Try not to steal anything he’ll miss, OK? I don’t want him to kick me out.’

A series of high-pitched noises returned, probably the Hellspawn version of ‘Whatever.’ With a sudden blur of motion, her perpetual roomie was gone.

Now the place felt like home.

The swirling Chicago snowstorm nearly blinded Riley, but it seemed to have no effect on the angel standing beside her.

‘I can’t see a thing,’ she complained. Or feel much for that matter as the chill seemed to drill right into her bones.

‘Use your senses,’ Ori retorted.

‘My senses can’t see anything, either, OK? What kind of demon is out in this kind of weather anyway?’

‘The kind that we need to kill,’ Ori replied. ‘It is a traitor to the Prince.’

A second later a shrill shriek ripped through the storm, a high-pitched scream of mortal terror.

‘Where is it?’ she demanded.

The angel didn’t reply, but let her fumble through the swirling flakes like an idiot. Another shriek rent the air, one that tore through her skull. Panicking now, Riley closed her eyes and
trusted those senses Ori was always talking about.

Very quickly the strong stench of demon filled her nose, nearly making her gag. Opening her eyes, she hurried forward. Then she saw it, a four-foot-tall lumbering form covered in snow and ice.
Chicago’s version of the abominable snowman.

The Gastro-Fiend had two teens cornered. The terrified boy had positioned himself in front of the girl, trying to hold the demon back with his computer bag. That made her think of Peter. The
girl was crying into a cellphone, begging for someone to help them.

Riley moved closer and let her sword erupt from her hand. She had to admit it looked really badass.

‘Hey, demon!’ she called out. ‘Yeah, you.’

The fiend whirled, its twin glowing eyes piercing the snow veil. It howled her name.

Remember what I taught you
, Ori whispered in her mind.

The Three charged immediately, moving with a speed she’d not expected. She slashed at it, wounding its arm as it surged past. In response, it bellowed and swiped at her with one of its
razor claws, gashing her cheek. Riley bit back the cry of pain, trying to keep her balance on the slippery ground.

With a roar, the demon launched itself at her again. This time she managed to do exactly as Ori had taught her: step to the side at the last minute and catch the demon full on in its chest.

The blinding blade cut true and the Three went down into the snow, blood steaming like a cauldron. As she struggled to catch her breath, the boy called out his thanks. She waved them off and the
pair of them fled into the night.

‘Did they see you?’ she asked, straightening up.

‘No. They won’t remember what you look like if anyone asks,’ Ori replied.

He gestured and the demon burst into flames, a grisly bonfire for a bitterly cold winter night.

Once her sword had vanished, Riley touched her face where the demon had cut her. It stung and her jaw was sore.

‘Hold still,’ her demi-lord instructed. His hand brushed her face, causing the wound to heal. In that instant she remembered that night in the mausoleum, how he’d made love to
her.

‘What happened to you, Ori? Why are you different now?’

‘It does not matter,’ he said, but the angel’s eyes grew sad, as if he too remembered that night and what they’d once had.

It does to me.

Then she was in her room, but the cold and the feeling of loss were hard to shake.

It was nearly noon and the parking lot outside the old Starbucks was crowded with students, all in their little cliques, chattering away. Riley stifled a yawn, not quite ready
to take on the noise yet. With each one of these nocturnal hunts, the guilt within her grew. She had to tell Beck what was going on, but what if he lost it? Decided not to take her to the prom?

I’ll wait until after the dance and tell him. Yeah, that will work
.

Ahead of her were four hours of class to make up for the time the schools had been closed during the zombie-demon crisis. No one wanted to be here, not with the prom tonight. Even those who were
blowing off the dance were talking about it.

That included Riley, whose mind was still racing with all the things she had to complete by the time Beck picked her up at seven. Her hair and nail appointment was at five thirty, then she had
to rush home and begin the process of transforming from a scruffy girl demon trapper to the princess that her date imagined her to be. She had all her clothes laid out, but still it was going to be
tight.

To curb her rampaging nerves, Riley made her rounds of the parking lot, handing out the collection of autographs, photos and whatnot from the
Demonland
cast. The reactions were instant:
when she received the personalized photograph from Jess Storm, Brandy went ballistic with one of her supersonic whoops. As Riley distributed the other goodies to Brandy’s friends, they
celebrated their good fortune, comparing photos and signatures.

‘You rock, Riley,’ one of the girls said.

I do.
She’d come through as promised.

‘Is Blaze as smouldering in the flesh as on TV?’ Peter asked, studying the glossy photograph in his hand. The actress had added a lipstick kiss in the lower left corner next to his
name.

‘Sort of. She’s pretty nice. Not a ditzy airhead like I figured.’

‘I’ll ignore that you dissed my fave actress.’

‘Probably best.’

‘Alan’s back,’ he said. ‘The Neanderthal overheard me talking to Brandy, so he knows you’re going to the prom.’

Before she could tell him how much that sucked, her cell rang. It was Beck and she needed to hear his voice. ‘Hey, guy. You getting ready for our night together?’

‘Ah,’ he said, his voice strained. ‘It’s just . . .’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘We got a pack of Threes in Little Five Points, near Mort’s house. They don’t usually go there so this is somethin’ new. Jackson, Reynolds and me are to take them down.
Tonight.
’

You wouldn’t dare bail on me.
‘Tonight? Can’t they do it?’

‘Not without back-up and no one else is free. I promise, I’ll be there at the dance, but our fancy supper is history.’

Peter was staring at her now, probably because of her darkening expression.

‘Tell them you have a date,’ she said through clenched teeth.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll be there for the dance. I’ll not leave ya hangin’. I gotta go now. See ya soon, girl. I can’t wait.’ Then Beck hung up, as if he knew
any longer on the phone might be life threatening.

‘Ah . . . I think I’ll go inside now,’ Peter said, edging away.

‘He’s going trapping,’ Riley snarled. ‘The one night we’re supposed to be together and . . .’ She jammed her phone into her backpack. ‘He’s going
to meet me at the dance. Won’t that look special?’

‘You need a ride?’

She nodded, feeling the sting of tears. ‘I swear I’m going to kill him. I’ll wear my new dress to the trial and no jury would convict me. They’d probably give me a medal
or something.’

Alan came out of nowhere. She knew what would happen next, just like it was scripted or something.

‘I’ll take you, Riley,’ he offered. ‘I won’t ditch you like that hick did.’

As she began to walk away, he caught her arm.

‘Come on, get real,’ Alan said. ‘Stop being an idiot. He’s not your kind of guy.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you? I want
nothing
to do with you. Leave me alone!’

‘Riley—’

She got into his face, which was always dangerous. ‘Back off, Alan. I swear I’ll tear you apart if you keep messing with me.’

She felt the familiar tingle in her right hand. With little effort her right palm would ignite into a fiery sword and slice this miserable excuse for humanity into sushi. Riley forced herself to
take a deep breath in an effort to calm down. Hanging with Ori was starting to affect her in ways she didn’t like.

Peter gave a low whistle and headed for the door, sensing retreat was the best option. Muttering choice Hellspeak curse words, Riley followed him. Fortunately Alan held back, her anger having
stunned him into silence.

Her special night was a ship foundering on the rocks in a heavy gale.

Why am I surprised?

With his romantic dinner plans trashed, Beck fell into a foul mood. He’d planned it so carefully and a damned trio of Gastro-Fiends had screwed it all up. There was no
need to check the time on his phone: he was way late and Riley would be furious at him.

He’d had no choice. This pack had gone after a couple of senior citizens and only luck had kept them from becoming a meal. Now those same rampaging demons were all lined up in steel bags,
howling like the world was coming to an end. One of them was bleeding and Beck took credit for that.

‘Ah, shut the hell up!’ he shouted.

‘Man, did you go medieval on that thing or what?’ Reynolds asked, pointing at the Three with the busted arm. ‘Something bothering you, Den?’

Though he knew it wasn’t the others’ fault, Beck spewed out his frustration at the screwed-up plans, what the evening was supposed to be like.

Reynolds and Jackson traded looks.

‘The prom? That’s cool,’ Reynolds replied.

‘No, it’s not. I’m late and she’s gonna be totally pissed.’

‘Then get your butt out of here,’ Jackson said. ‘We’ll take care of these things.’

‘You sure about that?’ Beck asked.

‘Take off!’ Reynolds said, giving him a playful shove. ‘Go have a life, dude. You can buy us a beer down the line for our trouble.’

‘Thanks, guys. I owe you!’

Despite his sore foot, Beck took off at a run.

As she dressed, Riley’s emotions boiled like a pool of lava. It was silly, but she’d dreamed of floating down the long staircase at Stewart’s house as her
handsome beau waited for her. She’d even made a test trip down the stairs to judge how much the dress would be a problem with her heels. When no one else was around, of course.

Now there was no Beck.

‘Damn!’ she swore, tugging her tights in place.

The dinner would have been so cool, but the dance was the big event. How stupid would she look if he didn’t show up? It was a good bet Alan would certainly notice and he’d be all
over her about it. He wouldn’t back off no matter what she said.

Why did Beck have to go trapping tonight? Why couldn’t he have refused?

Once home, Beck raced through his shower, did a quick shave, threw on his suit, hastily knotted his new tie and fled out the door. It was pure torment not to exceed the speed
limit, but with his luck a cop would pull him over and he’d get into an argument and end up in jail.

I’m like some kid on his first date.

He felt like one too. Riley made everything new and shiny, and he wanted that feeling to last, but his first big chance to make a good impression was falling apart before his eyes. He hoped this
wasn’t a harbinger of their future together.

Riley had been so caught up in her own misery that she hadn’t noticed the car had come to a stop in the hotel parking lot. Simi and Peter looked over the front seat in
unison, concerned.

Riley sighed.
I have a gorgeous dress and a ticket to the dance. Suck it up.

She followed her friends towards the hotel’s entrance, trailing beside them. As Riley drew near, Peter took her hand. Then he ran his arm round Simi’s waist.

‘Hey, look at me. I’ve got two hot girls with me tonight.’

When Riley didn’t smile, he sighed. ‘Beck will be here. That guy would walk through fire to spend time with you.’

‘What he said,’ Simi added.

‘I hope you’re right,’ Riley replied. ‘I only want to see his face. Know he’s safe. I’m mad at him but . . .’

God, I have it bad.

Riley shuffled through the line and checked in, then followed her friends into the hotel’s courtyard. It was an open area with skylights that offered a magnificent view of the clear night
sky. Real trees sat in huge containers, decorated with miniature white lights. Flagstones paved the ground among the trees with benches interspersed here and there. Couples wandered down the paths,
the girls clad in a rainbow of colours, like a flower garden in motion.

‘This is so neat,’ she said. ‘It’s like a fairyland.’

Come on, Den. Don’t miss this. We both deserve a night just for us.

Her eyes drifted from couple to couple. Some fitted well together and others . . . not so much. When she checked out her friends with the same critical eye, she knew they were right for each
other. Simi laughed at something Peter said and it wasn’t forced. They were genuinely enjoying each other’s company. If Peter’s mom had still been in town, this night probably
wouldn’t have happened.

As usual, Simi was her own person when it came to clothes, clad in a short harlequin print dress and hot pink tights that made her look like an escapee from a punk rock band. Her hair was a
mishmash of black, silver and pink, but when put all together it looked great. Peter was in a black suit and a tie that matched Simi’s tights. His hair was spiked at the ends and he looked
really sharp, despite the slight bruising from his brush-up with Alan’s fist.