Dead Reaper Walking (5 page)

“Let’s get her out of here,” Reilly shouted, already reaching down to grab Mary-Beth under the shoulders.

Troy shook his head, and looked down. Her eyes were closed and her lips were curved into a small smile. He’d felt her slip away when Laney’s chill had hit. She was gone. Poor girl.

Laney’s voice rose and he realized she was chanting. Had been all along. The demon screamed again, the sound rising until, with a pop, it disappeared completely, leaving the three of them alone in a charred room, with three bodies.

Talk about a smoking gun.

The hellfire snapped off and I blinked the bright spots from my vision. It took me a few seconds to realize that the demon had teleported out. I looked around the room, noting the charred wallpaper and the fact that no amount of shampooing was going to rescue the carpet on the other side of the room.

Well, crap. They weren’t supposed to do that.

Hissing between my teeth, I pulled the Grimm back within. The ‘promotion’ to Special Operations had brought a boatload of knowledge, all of it exploding through my brain the same time I battled with the demon. Perfect timing there. I’m trying
not
to get my ass kicked into next week, stop the demon from toasting Troy and Reilly, and the Grimm decides to damn-well info-dump me.

Everything from how to bewitch a Fae through the best way to kill a dragon (there’s a soft spot behind the ear if you’re interested. Never know when that kind of information will come in handy.) wanted equal billing in my head. It was only years of practice with focusing on lifelines that had allowed me to block most of it and access just the part I needed.

Like how to cast a holding spell to trap a demon so I could slice its freaking head off. Demons are tricky fuckers. Unlike other creatures, even the weird and wonderful ones, demons have no soul to reap, as I’d naively thought. Oh no, they don’t make it that easy. They have to be pinned down with magic, a holding spell or a demon trap, and you take the head. End of it. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, go right to the pit of hell. Express elevator.

Yeah, yeah… I know all the paranormal-type shows have exorcisms and the possessed body being returned to the original owner. No harm, no foul. It’s all bullshit. My knowledge ‘upgrade’ laid it all out for me in neat little lines. Possession by a demon is permanent and nearly always fatal. The presence of something so black within a human body eats at the soul, and destroys it utterly.

“Crap. That was intense,” Troy muttered behind me, as he and Reilly got to their feet. The girl they’d been trying to protect was dead. I could’ve told them that before we got in here. Turning, I slid my blades, normal-sized now, back into their sheaths with a small snick.

“Yeah, you could say that,” I commented, a quick flick of my vision to the shade showing the souls waiting to be dispatched.

Two were huddled into small balls, their arms wrapped around them as they rocked back and forward. Shock. Trauma, call it what you will. We reapers call it death-shock, when a soul can’t cope with the transition from life to death. Happens more often than not with violent deaths. The third though, lay prone, in the same position as the body, even down to the intestines spilling out of her shredded abdomen. Black lines of corruption wormed through the soul construct.

Grimacing, I searched through my new knowledge, I was fairly sure it had to do with the demon. Within a few seconds I’d found what I needed. I was right. The touch of the demon had shattered her soul, the black lines like acid from its touch.

Her heart would be gone as well, even though at first glance there was no way to tell in the bloody mess of her stomach. First stage to possession was taking the heart and eating it, another reason possession is always fatal. Nothing natural functions well without a heart. I checked the other two. Both souls were intact. The demon hadn’t gotten that far.

My frown deepened as I moved closer. I’d never seen anything like this before. The demon must have been new to this realm. They didn’t need to claw their way through the abdomen to get anyone’s heart, they can simply pluck it from the chest through the ribs if they can get close enough. I knew that without the advantage of my ‘upgrade.’

“What happened?” Reilly looked at me in expectation, not bothering with looking at the scene.

Was he serious? I gave him my best blank look. “Killer clowns. From outer space.”

Troy snorted, then rapidly turned it into a cough. “Sorry, sir. Should have mentioned she’s got a unique sense of humor.”

I rolled my eyes.

“No, I was insulting him. What do you
think
happened?” That was leveled at Troy’s boss, along with my best stare. The one that’ll give a mirror a headache. Let’s just say nothing, not even a rattlesnake, wants to get into a staring contest with me. Some punk kid a few cities back had tried it, trying to psych me out in a bar. I’d let him stare right into the Grimm behind my eyes. I don’t think he stopped running until he reached the city limits. Three states over.

Reilly put the Glock away, as his pale gaze swept the room. I didn’t miss the ease in the movement. I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept with the gun under his pillow.

“No signs of forced entry and they didn’t have time to run.” He walked between the bodies, not flinching from the sight, even when he knelt next to the girl without a face. It didn’t bother me that much what the body looked like, it was after all, only a vessel for the soul. By the time I got involved, there’s really no need for it. But normal humans could get a little squeamish.

Not this one. He looked right at the damage, not seeing the soul of the girl curled up in a little ball next to the body. He moved her hand, opening the fingers to reveal something hidden within. Picking it up, he held it out. Some sort of charm. I narrowed my eyes. The symbols on it seemed familiar.

“Looks like some sort of ritual. Here…” Troy eased the body of the last girl to die to the side. There, under the blood was something. “Looks like salt in some sort of design.”

“It was a summoning.” I stepped over the nearest body and looked around. The Grimm picked up what was left of the salt and overlaid possible designs over my vision, one after the other until we found something that nearly matched. “Crap. This is serious stuff. They were trying to reach the third hell. Some real nasty fuckers in there.”

“Third hell?” Troy’s expression was all sorts of curious. “What do you mean third hell?”

I walked around the edges of the design. “Just that. They were trying to call something from the third hell. There are seven but the third is like…Alcatraz. That’s where they put the ones even the king can’t control.”

“King…” Troy sat back on his heels. “They have a damn king?”

“Seven hells, one king.” I nodded, for once not inclined to poke fun. To say they were being brought up to speed rapidly was an understatement. “Nasty piece of work from what I hear.”

“Got something else here.” Reilly held up a book. Small and nondescript, bad vibes rolled off it in waves. My lips curled back.

“Yeah, spell book. Doesn’t surprise me. Three high-schoolers stumbling across a way to summon something from a hell-prison? Not happening. Someone put them up to this. And,” I nodded toward the book, “I’d hazard a guess that isn’t the only copy around. I suggest we find the others, before someone manages to organize a full-scale breakout.”

The two guys nodded, but expectation still hung in the air, like they expected me to pull the answers out of a hat like some damn magician.

Detection isn’t my strong point. In fact, it’s a skill notably absent from my skill-set. As I’ve said before, by the time I get to any given situation, it’s all cut and dry.

“And by we,” I added, “I mean you guys. I’m just the clean-up crew.”

Reilly nodded, his lips compressed a little but he didn’t argue. Smart guy. Ducking down, he parted the blinds to look through.

“Speaking of clean up. Looks like Mr. and Mrs. Kaufman are home.” His words dampened the mood in the room. Owners meant one thing. Two people were about to find out their child had died. He cut a look at Troy. “The less anyone knows at the moment, the better. Take her out the back. I’ll call you with updates.”

***

Troy got me out of there so quickly that my eyes practically rattled in my head. One moment we were standing in the same room as Reilly and the next, Troy was tucking me into his car. I started to argue, then realized that the space I’d parked my bike was empty. Just like last night when Troy had to take me home. Bastard thing was making a habit of leaving me high and dry. I grumbled under my breath while Troy drove. We were going to be having words when it showed up again. Lots of bikers talked to their bikes, not just me, and those were normal bikes, not the semi-sentient pain in the ass mine was.

Troy slowed and I looked out the window, realizing with a start where we were. And it wasn’t my motel.

“Your place?” I arched an eyebrow at him. Like most girls, I’d spent hours in my teens in front of the mirror trying to master the perfect pout. I’d only managed to look like an angry trout, so I’d given it up as a bad job. “Hoping for a replay of last night, eh, stud?”

“Only if we can skip the fight in the kitchen part.” He gave me a sidelong glance, the hint of a grin curving those oh-so-clever lips. That lip-lock on the picnic table felt like an eon ago.

I didn’t give him time to get around to my side of the car to open the door for me. I’m a big girl, I can open my own doors. “Sure, skip the fight. How about we just fuck in the kitchen instead?”

Our gazes locked, the tension in the air between us ramping to super-nova in less than a nanosecond. I knew my crude words did it for him, and the dark desire in his eyes sent a shiver through me, anticipation stroking delicate fingers down my spine before heading lower. My clit ached, pussy clenching as memories of last night came rushing to the fore. I needed,
ached,
to feel him within me again. Feel that long, thick cock filling me to the hilt.

To say he hurried me into the house was an understatement. A strong hand wrapped around my upper arm, he unlocked the door and all but hauled me inside. The door slammed, the sound barely faded before he shoved me back against it.

His lips crashed down over mine in a torrid kiss. The moan escaped before I could stop it, a soft breathy sound of need that matched the desperation swirling within. Parting my lips, I gave him the access he sought. His tongue drove deep, seeking mine to tangle with. To stroke and tease even as he pushed against me, his body hard and urgent.

I broke away to gasp, my head slamming against the wood with a small thud. He drove his hand into my hair, holding my head back in a little display of dominance that stoked the fires within. I wanted this, wanted him. Needed him with an intensity I’d never felt, and frankly, that scared the hell out of me.

His lips trailed a line of caresses down my exposed throat. Bending, he slid strong fingers behind my knee and hauled it up, over his hip, trapping it there with his arm. His hand stroked up the thigh to cup my ass and haul me against him. He was hard, rock solid, the iron bar of his erection pressing where I needed him most.

“Ohhh, yeah…” I wriggled but his hold was firm. I was pinned, captured…and I loved it. He moved up, planting a biting kiss on my chin before he rolled his hips. The pressure of his cock at the same time his teeth scraped gently over my skin made my eyes roll back in my head, pleasure the likes of which I’d never felt exploding like small supernovas in my veins. I managed an incoherent groan, a sound lost as he claimed my lips again.

There was no preamble. He parted my lips with a hard swipe of his tongue and drove within. This time there was no doubt who was in charge.

He was utterly dominant. Utterly delicious. Utterly mine.

He broke away, his whisper rough. “Too many clothes.”

Hell yeah, I had to agree with that. Less clothes was better. My hands joined his to shuck my jacket, and he yanked my top from my pants so quickly the sound of tearing cloth filled the air. I laughed, but the sound turned into a gasp as his hand slid underneath. He didn’t bother going up, even though the girls ached for a little attention. Instead he shoved his hand down, fingertips under the leather of my pants as he fought with the button fly.

“In a rush, lover-boy?” I teased between kisses, shoving his jacket off his shoulders. It caught on his biceps, deceptively heavy muscle there, and his hand in my pants foiling my plan to get to his skin.

“Rush? You have no idea, baby.” He pulled back to look me in the eye and the expression almost made me come on the spot. “I’ve been dying to get inside you since this morning. When I thought you were gone…”

He tore my fly open with a growl, hand leaving my pants for a movement to shrug his jacket off. Anger added spice to the lust in his eyes. “You’re mine, Laney. The moment I saw you, you were mine.”

Normally proclamations of ownership from a guy get one reaction from me. Namely my boot in their ass. There’s the door, asshole, don’t let it hit you on the way out. But this was different. The rough words made me melt rather than mad and I had to hold back an honest to god whimper.

“You getting me, Laney?” His demand was harsh as he spun me to face the door. The wood was cool against my cheek, a delicious contrast to his hands as he yanked down my leather pants. “You’re mine and I’m going to prove it. Over and over.”

Hot, rough hands stroked over the curve of my ass and scattered my ability to think. The calluses on his palms abraded the sensitive skin of my legs, shoving the pants down further. They caught at my knees, too tight to step out of but that didn’t stop him. Instead he hooked strong fingers around my hips and pulled me a step from the door. His hand a fist in my hair, he bent me over and kicked my feet as far apart as they could go.

His belt clicked, the sound punctuated by our heavy breathing and a second later the thick length of his cock slapped against my ass. I bit my lip, waiting for him to slide down and press home. My body tightened in anticipation, pussy ready for his invasion.