Vengeance of the Demon: Demon Novels, Book Seven (Kara Gillian 7) (38 page)

For a horrifying instant I thought the people would scurry into the parking lot and onto the valve, but I’d underestimated Cory. An officer I didn’t recognize stepped in front of the crowd, directed them away from Idris and Pellini and to the lot on the far side of the building. I remained halfway between the building and the valve and scanned for the zhurn and other threats. Fortunately, with all the commotion, I only racked up a dozen or so curious looks.

As the PD emptied, officers ran to nearby buildings to facilitate evacuation. I shifted from foot to foot, uneasy as tremors continued in a slow cycle, yet grateful for them at the same time. No way would we be able to convince people to get the hell outside in the middle of July otherwise.
But the danger isn’t truly earthquakes,
I thought with worry. Were they safer out in the open?

A wave of shrieks and shouts rolled from the street. Officers drew their guns, attention riveted on the roof of the PD.
The zhurn?
I held my gun at the ready and watched the edge of the roof, poised to fire at the first hint of a moving shadow.

No, not the zhurn. A big ass reyza.
Son of a fucking bitch.
To the bystanders he surely looked like a true demon from hell—manlike in form with skin the color of bronze, huge bat-like wings, and wicked clawed hands. He leaped off the roof and took flight. I yelped out a curse and got two quick shots off, missing with both. “Pellini!” I yelled, pivoting as the demon flew over me and swooped toward the valve. “Idris! Watch out!” I didn’t dare fire again for fear of hitting one of them.

In a flash Pellini drew, aimed, and fired three shots at the rapidly approaching reyza. Clearly he hadn’t been blowing smoke up our asses about weekly firearms practice. The reyza bellowed as blood sprayed from his left bicep, but the injury didn’t slow him. Pellini grabbed Idris by his collar to pull him back, but the demon seized Idris by the wrist and delivered a kick to Pellini’s chest that sent him sprawling.

“
Kel gor mraz
, Alavik!” Idris yelled as the reyza vaulted into the air and climbed with heavy beats of his wings. Though I didn’t know a lot of demon words, I was pretty sure
kel gor mraz
meant
You’re a fucking piece of shit assface
or a similar sentiment. Alavik was no doubt a reyza Idris had spent time with during his months as a captive of the Mraztur.

I had no clear shot, but I kept my gun trained on the reyza in case an opening appeared. Idris kept his head even as he dangled in Alavik’s grip. Before he was more than a half dozen feet from the ground, Idris yanked his folding knife off his belt, flicked it open, and slashed the razor sharp blade across the demon’s forearm.

Alavik keened in pain as blood sprayed and tendons parted. His clawed hand spasmed, and Idris dropped to the asphalt and rolled, teeth bared in defiance. With Idris clear, I opened fire, and Pellini did the same while still on his back. At least two bullets pierced Alavik’s wings, but even when other officers joined the shoot-the-demon game, he remained aloft. Unburdened, the reyza rose quickly then veered away over buildings and out of sight.

Idris scrambled up and ran back to the valve. “He has arcane shielding on his head and torso,” he called out to us. Pellini climbed to his feet and staggered toward Idris. I dropped my empty magazine, yanked a fresh one from my pocket and slapped it in.

“What the fuck was that thing?” a familiar voice said from behind me. I spun to see my favorite road sergeant, Scott Glassman, gun drawn and ready. Beside him, a wide-eyed Asian woman—likely his trainee—held her weapon in a death grip. Bet she hadn’t counted on anything like this when she signed up.

“Long story!” I shouted back over the rising din of people pouring into the street from nearby buildings. “But if you see it again, shoot it. Aim for the wings.” Shit. And the zhurn was still around somewhere. And who knew how many other demons had been stationed to keep us from undoing Katashi’s work. Out in the street, people milled or watched the sky or peered at cell phones and tablets. Videos of Alavik’s dramatic attack on Idris were about to go viral.
The times they are a-changin’.
But no sense worrying about what I couldn’t control.

“Get those people as far away from here as you can,” I told Scott. With any luck that would ensure he and his trainee were also far away if the worst happened. He gave me a sharp nod, and the two turned and yelled at people to move down the street. The woman had an impressive set of lungs and a commanding presence, both of which had everyone cowering and scurrying to obey her.

Alert and ready, I continued a survey of the area as Idris and Pellini worked furiously. Movement grabbed my attention. “Pellini! Behind you!” I yelled. “Under the red car!”

I expected the zhurn to go still and hide again, but to my dismay it streaked from the shadow and darted straight for the valve. Pellini shot at it one-handed, while I squeezed my trigger as fast as I could until the slide locked back. The demon squealed as bits of shadow flew from it, but kept moving. A dozen feet from the caution tape it launched itself toward the valve, wings and tail and body elongating as it dove into the dead center of the circle of cones and disappeared as if the asphalt had sucked it in.

A heavy tremor rocked the parking lot. Idris fell back with a cry of horror. “No. No!”

I ran toward him. “What? What happened?”

He scrambled to his feet then stared down at the asphalt, aghast. “The zhurn. It activated the charges.”

I yanked my gaze to the ground as if I could miraculously see what he meant. “That’s bad, right?”

Idris swallowed, paling. “The countdown started.”

Yeah, bad. “How long do we have?”

“Five minutes.” Sweat beaded on his upper lip. “Maybe ten if I can slow it.” He hauled his gaze up. “You two. Go, get clear.”

Pellini spoke up before I could tell Idris to get stuffed. “Can you stop it?” he asked.

Idris wiped sweat from his face. “Maybe. It’ll be a lot harder now.” For the first time, doubt and fear flickered in his eyes. “I . . . I don’t know. I might make it worse, or set it off sooner—”

I seized his shoulders. “You’re the son of a demonic lord!” I yelled and gave him a hard shake.

“A horrible one!” He shoved my hands away. To my dismay his uncertainty deepened. “I don’t want to be like him! He’s a manipulative asshole, and maybe that’s the reason my own mother never wanted me!”

My breath caught as his agony poured out, and I realized why his confidence had locked up. “Idris, you’re
not
him, and—”

“How do you know?” he demanded in what was perilously close to a sob. “I have the blood of one of the Mraztur, and I’ll be just as bad as them if I mess up this valve, and I—”

A
crack
echoed through the parking lot as I backhanded him hard enough to send him staggering. Hell, in the past year I’d punched and slapped enough demonic lords that a mere
son
of one didn’t stand a chance. And, best of all, his look of bewildered outrage told me I’d succeeded in shocking him out of his death spiral of irrational angsty crap. And I knew all about irrational angsty crap.

I seized the front of his shirt with both hands and pulled him close so only a few inches separated our faces. “Listen to me. You are the most amazing and gifted summoner I’ve ever known. You’re NOT Rhyzkahl, and I’m an authority on that subject. I’m cool as shit, and you’re my cousin.
That’s
the bloodline you need to be concerned about. Now straighten up, be the brilliant and kind and awesome cousin I love, and Fix. That. Valve.”

I released his shirt and stepped back. He blinked, then squared his shoulders and turned to the valve while I trembled in relief. We were probably still going to eat it, but at least we’d go down fighting. Pellini gave me a nod of approval that warmed me to my toes then settled in to work next to Idris.

“I’ll watch your backs,” I announced then let out a yelp as Jill appeared beside me out of nowhere. She swayed, eyes unfocused, and I threw my arms around her. “Jill! Fucking hell, woman!” My heart slammed. She’d teleported here. Or rather, the bean had. But why would the bean bring her
here
when our community fortune cookie read
You will be blown to bits in the near future
?

I steadied her and discarded the notion of finding a safe place to stash her. No such thing at the moment. On to the next wild idea. I bent close to Jill’s belly. “Hey! Listen up! It’s not safe! You got her here, you can get her out! Do it! NOW!”

“Kara?” Jill mumbled. “What are you doing?”

Damn. She was still here talking to me, which meant the bean wasn’t listening. Or was being willfully disobedient. Brat. “Um. Nothing important.” I straightened. “Let’s find a place for you to sit.”

She put a hand to her temple. “Yeah. I don’t feel so hot.”

“You can sit in Pellini’s truck. That’ll be nice and safe.” What a nightmare. The only way this could be any worse would be if—

“Kara?” Jill lifted her head and gave me a woozy smile. “I think my water just broke.”

“What do you mean your water just broke?” I demanded in horror. I looked down at the growing pool of I-did-not-want-to-know-what-kind-of-liquid on the asphalt between her feet.

She shook off the dazed look and scalded me with a glare. “It means my kiddie pool has a crack,” she snapped, but she couldn’t hide the shaking in her voice.

“I’ve only been to one class,” I said and would have gone on in that vein, but her fear finally penetrated my thick skull. “Aaand it was more than enough!” I finished gamely.

She clutched my arm. “Why am I at the station?” she asked, confusion making her words shrill. “Goddammit, it happened again!” She swung her gaze around while I groped for a reassuring answer. I had a feeling the truth would
not
suffice.

My phone buzzed on my belt with Bryce’s ringtone. Shit, he had to be freaking out. I hit the answer button, but he spoke over me in a rush before I could say word one. “She’s gone! Disappeared from right in front of me,” he gabbled in the closest to outright panic I’d ever heard in him. “I saw it this time. Kara, I swear to God I—”

“She’s here,” I yelled to make sure he heard me. “Jill’s right here beside me,” I said at a more normal volume.

“Tell me,” he ordered, all trace of panic gone.

“We’re in the PD parking lot. The valve is going to blow at any minute.” That pretty much covered it. He wanted a situation report, not story time.

“On my way.” The line went dead.

The ground swayed in a tremor. Across the street a window ledge detached from City Hall and crashed to the sidewalk.

Jill let out a little moan, and her grip tightened on my arm. “Let’s get you into Pellini’s truck,” I said. That was the best option at the moment. I slung an arm around her waist, force-marched her to the truck and managed to shove her up into the backseat. She flopped onto her left side while I half-knelt on the floor and steadied myself with one foot on the running board.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said in a combination of fear and annoyance.

“You just wanted to be the center of attention,” I said with a shaky laugh to cover my own fear. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deliver your kid!”

Jill managed to hold a brave face for approximately two seconds before she writhed and bit down on a squeal. “You’d better have learned something in that class!”

“First, we’d better get your pants off.” That wasn’t from class—that was basic logistics. I reached for her waistband then gulped as her belly did a weird lurch and ripple that looked
nothing
like the instructional videos.

Jill seized my hand in a crushing grip. “Something’s not right!” she cried out, eyes wide in panic. “This . . . this isn’t right!” She let out a howl of pain as her tummy rippled weirdly again.

“Uh. Shit. Breathe!” I wasn’t going to tell her I agreed. This was
not
normal labor. “One and two and three—”

“You breathe!” she snarled and even balled her free hand into a fist right before her head lolled and her hand went limp.

Terror spasmed. “Jill!” I checked her pulse. Still strong, and she was breathing, but—

I yelped as a clawed hand grabbed my ankle, and I instinctively shook my leg in an effort to get free of whatever demon had me. I scrabbled for my gun and twisted around, shocked to see a grotesque scaly frog-thing no bigger than Fuzzykins dangling from my ankle by one long-fingered hand.

I let out a strangled cry of disgust, gave it a solid shove with my free foot and ripped my gun from its holster. It gave a piercing shriek but dug its claws harder into my ankle. It writhed into the form of a blue-furred crocodile then a dragon-ish thing with pearly white scales and wet wobbly wings. The shit? I brought my gun to bear on it then registered the blob that dangled from it by a cord of flesh—a blob that dripped blood and had remained constant during the shapeshifting.

Aghast, I gaped at the creature, then snapped my gaze to Jill—and her not-pregnant belly—then back to the creature. As I stared, it caught up its umbilical cord, bit through it then let the placenta splat to the asphalt. No, not a creature. The
bean.
Blinking up at me with huge violet eyes. Hanging onto my ankle. After biting off her cord. Which wasn’t bleeding.

“Kara?” Jill, out of it. “What . . . I don’t—”

“Hey, Jill! Just relax, okay?” I said, super brightly and
super
freaked. “Everything’s
great!
” Nope, wasn’t going to say,
Oh, by the way, your baby just
teleported
out of you.

Instinct surfaced and pushed my gibbering what-the-fuck shock out of the way. I holstered my gun and reached for the bean where she clung to my leg. “You can’t
do
that!” I sputtered to her in horror. What if she lost her grip and fell on the hard asphalt? “Come here!” I needed to get her into the truck where she’d be safe, right? Nothing else made sense, but taking care of a newborn had certain inviolate rules.

Apparently the bean didn’t give squat about rules for babies. She ducked away from my grab and dropped neatly to the ground then swiveled her head toward the valve.
Like a miniature dragon.
Holy shit.

“Jill I’ll be right back everything’s fine you stay put okay?” I babbled then climbed out of the truck and crouched by the bean. “Is that why you brought your mama here?” I asked. “So you could get to the valve?”

She focused her luminescent eyes on me. A nictitating membrane flicked over them, then she hop-climbed onto my knee. I thought maybe she wanted to be held, but before I could move to do so she clambered awkwardly around to my back, clung to my shoulders, hooked her back claws onto my bra and wound her sinuous tail around my waist.

Gulping, I stood with caution. In our reflection in the truck window I saw her extend and wave wings that still dripped with baby-ooze. “You do know this is really creepy weird, right?” I muttered then started toward the valve. A shower. If I didn’t die in this crap, I was going to get a shower if I had to use a garden hose in the middle of town.

I heard Jill call my name from the truck, questioning at first then with more urgency. Yep, she’d just seen the dragon-demon thing clinging to my back.
Please please please,
I silently prayed,
don’t let her realize it’s her baby yet!
“Jill, it’s okay!” I called back to her. “I promise!” I gave the bean the side-eye. “Can’t you make her take a nap or something?” I muttered.

The bean extended her neck until her wickedly horned head was jaw to jaw with mine. She tick-growled softly, gaze riveted on the valve as we approached. Idris and Pellini continued to work feverishly. I had no idea how much progress they’d made, but their expressions told me things were bad.

“Um, guys?” I said. “I brought help.”

Pellini flicked a quick glance up then did a double-take, eyes widening. Idris kept his attention glued to the patch of asphalt. Katashi’s arm lay beside him, mostly covered by the cloth with only the fingers sticking out.

“Can’t defuse it,” Idris said voice strained. “People need to get clear. We’re holding as best we can.”

“No, seriously,” I said. “We got a ringer.” Damn, but this was surreal. I glanced to the bean and let out a weak laugh. “Okay, kid. Do your thing.”

Her claws tightened on my shoulders as she told me to get closer. Not in words, spoken or otherwise, but there was no mistaking her desire. Much closer. On the valve itself.

“Shit.” Heart pounding, I stepped cautiously forward. Eyes still on the ground, Idris sucked in a breath, probably because of the reaction of the flows to the bean’s presence. He jerked his gaze up at me.

“Kara! No! You need to get back—” The rest of his sentence died away as he stared at my piggyback passenger.

A strangled laugh escaped me. “Hey, guys. Meet the bean.” Then I took a hurried step forward as the bean gave me a clear
Get your butt on the valve before I have to do it for you!
nudge. Pushy kid.

Pellini stood, eyes on the not-a-baby, then flicked a glance at his truck. The bean’s back claws strained my bra band as she shifted her weight and flapped her wings. Her grip on my shoulders tightened, and she brought her wings in close as I stepped into position on the center of the valve. A vibration ran through her, all the way down to the tip of her tail. I startled as she let out a long, piercing wail.

The arcane blazed into life around me, and I gasped. The valve appeared as a bottomless shaft of coruscating blue beneath us, unlike any view of a valve I’d experienced before. I saw the charges attached near the lip—eleven grey, egg-shaped lumps embedded in the blue, like tumors.

Concepts flowed through my thoughts. “Green. Stripes?” I asked the bean, trying to understand her instructions. An image flashed in my mind. “Green stripes. Got it.” Too weird. “Pellini. There’s going to be some green potency spewing out in a minute. Catch it and shape it into strands. Idris. You connect each strand to an egg-thing, then run it straight down the shaft. Uh . . . straight into the valve. Like candy striping the walls.”

Pellini remained silent, acknowledged with a nod.

Idris looked up in grief and dismay. “Kara, it’s going to blow! I can’t hold it.”

“I know,” I said calmly. “It’s all right. Just do what I tell you, okay?”

The bean shifted, and her tail snaked under the waistband of my jeans and over my lower back. The twelfth sigil ignited in a blaze of peacock blue that dominated my senses as if someone had shoved a blue filter in front of the sun. Gooseflesh raced over my skin in waves of hot and cold. “Be careful, kid,” I said under my breath. “That thing is dangerous.”

Emerald green potency fountained from the valve. Pellini seized it, worked it into strands which he passed to Idris. Jaw set, Idris gingerly attached the strands to eggs and ran them down the shaft as directed, fluorescent green stripes against the blue.
To dampen the blast through the valve system.
This was one brilliant baby. Dragon. Demon. Whatever she was.

“This isn’t going to work,” Idris said. His expression showed exasperation, but aching fear shone from his eyes. He swallowed. “I should’ve tried dis—”

“It’s not going to stop the blast, but it will dampen it,” I insisted. “It
will
. Just finish the last one and trust me.”

Idris flicked his eyes to the demon-dragon-baby on my shoulder then back to the ugly eggs. He pulled a trembling hand over his mouth, hesitating as doubt flared, in himself, in the plan. It was up to him, one way or another. Up to him to save everyone.

He took the last strand from Pellini and brought it to the last egg, but before he could attach it another tremor shook the valve. The strand slipped from his grasp, flailed like a time-lapse of ivy seeking purchase and slapped against the egg.

Cracks fissured over the egg’s surface, and black light spewed forth while the other ten egg things radiated soft green.

The impending explosion of the one egg built as pressure in my chest until I was certain my heart would stop beating. “Stay close,” I called out to anyone within earshot. “Everyone. Get close. And stay that way.”

Idris sat back on his heels. Shock and disbelief radiated from him.
I failed everyone.
His thoughts flowed through me like water.
I’m not supposed to die this way! It’s too soon.

The pressure in my chest squeezed my breath away. Blue-green snakes of potency whipped outward from beneath my feet like wriggling spokes from a hub.

Pellini put his hands to his head.
Fuck. Bryce’ll take care of Sammy, right? God, I hope so. Shit. At least Boudreaux’s clear.
More thoughts that I couldn’t shut out.

The twelfth sigil cooled. The blue-green spokes of potency continued to lengthen. Twenty feet. Icy. Fifty feet. Burning cold. Another foot. No more.

Silent words and impressions tumbled over me from people farther away.
It’s probably that damn fracking. The prisoners. Gotta do something. Jesus, I’m sweating my ass off. Ugh, I left my cigarettes in my desk
. How could the lords stand the constant barrage?

The bean shrieked by my ear, a terrible sound of frustration. The spokes melted into a blue-green carpet and a sensation like being submerged in water closed in.

A protective cocoon. It was all the bean could do.

I’m so sorry, Amber. I couldn’t avenge you.

Will I go to hell?

And then silence. A flash of ruddy light beneath me. Tame, then not. Beyond the perimeter of the blue-green sanctuary, everything blurred, vibrated. The cocoon dissolved, and with it my arcane sense. Surroundings snapped into sharp focus. Sound crashed in. Screams. The crack of concrete. The shriek of twisting steel. The crash of glass. Horror clawed within me as a portion of the station collapsed in upon itself. The entire front half of City Hall disintegrated into rubble. And then buildings beyond it. Trembling, crumbling. And more beyond those. Like a five minute earthquake compressed into the span of a heartbeat. Nightmare. Impossible. And real.