Read Demon Hunt Online

Authors: A. W. Hart

Tags: #the phantom, #Romance, #Literature & Fiction, #Suspense, #Romantic Suspense, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Mystery & Suspense, #Demons & Devils, #demon hunt

Demon Hunt (8 page)

BOOK: Demon Hunt
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Both men strolled together from the room, the prudent servant one step behind the master. The curtains rustled when they passed and Manius frowned at the small, greenish claw that clung to the decorative tassels. Mud dripped down the curtain to puddle in the floor.


Troy, something has entered the house without cleansing itself. Dispose of it, will you?”

Troy pulled a pistol, loaded with silver tipped bullets dipped in holy water, from a holster hidden beneath his sport coat. He aimed the weapon at the curtain and pulled the trigger. A squeal rang through the room as a pool of slimy green liquid ran out from under the curtain to mix with the mud.


Damn it, Troy,
look
what you’ve done to my drapes!” Manius complained, watching the puddle begin to smoke. Emotionless, Troy pulled the curtain down and wrapped the offending creature in the fabric. He stuffed the bundle under one arm and faced his master.


You were changing these draperies, sir. Remember? You wanted black and gold instead of royal blue and gold?”

Manius nodded. “Of course, how could I forget? Get rid of this thing so we can entertain ourselves, my boy. We need to take a few minutes to relax, because I’ve got an exciting evening planned.”

Troy had been with his master for a few years - after the boy and his girlfriend, Cassie, dug Manius up from his grave in Mt Pisgah Cemetery in a bizarre satanic ritual. The couple was attracted to his gravesite because of the mystical symbols on the headstone holding Manius prisoner.

A patron at the bar where Cassie worked as a waitress pointed the grave out to them one evening, noting that the ornate carvings on the tombstone could signal more plunder.

In the 1800’s and early 1900’s, the dead were buried wearing their valuables, a fact Troy put to good use many times over his high school career. He’d plundered several other graves in the secluded corner of the graveyard, far from the watch of the local police.

The teens were fascinated by the appearance of a fresh corpse in the coffin they had pried open after hours of digging. The body had been impaled with a large wooden stake. Ignoring the rules of every vampire movie ever made, the teens jerked the stake out of its chest and watched with excitement as the body began to smoke and then heal itself.

Manius awoke to find the pair standing over his coffin, chirping about somebody named Lestat. He hadn’t been impressed with Troy’s methods but had to admit that the boy was enthusiastic. Plus, he had a delicious girlfriend. Manius slaked his thirst by ripping open the girl’s throat where she stood.

Instead of running away like any sensible person, Troy observed in fascination when the vampire fed. Thinking that a pet human might be useful, Manius spared the promising lad to train as a servant.

The pair was on the run for a few years. The moment he awoke, Manius realized that Blackthorne and Pearl were probably aware of his rebirth. Blackthorne tracked him all over the globe; always arriving too late to catch Manius but always in time to pick up the pieces of whatever mayhem Manius had involved himself in. Annoying his brother and causing chaos while he waited for the girl to rediscover his prize pleased Manius for a while. Until he got bored.

Pearl, being a realist, ignored the brothers and sat back to wait until fate dragged them all back together. She chose her side battles to get involved in, some of which amused Manius more than his brother’s pathetic flailing around. Neither changed one iota while he lay in a state of half-death. Their masters waited in silence for the two to succeed or fail - he wondered if even they cared anymore. Eternity could be quite the numbing agent.

Chapter Eight

 

The smoke of a prior group of dealers’ last cigarettes clogged the air in the casino dressing locker room. Pam hovered near Rhi as the smaller girl sat on the cold wooden benches in front of her locker, trying to dress for the ride home.

Rhi’s hands shook as she tied her boot laces, staring at the floor instead of the lockers. One had been sealed with yellow police tape.

As usual, the temperature in basement resembled the Antarctic. The casino owners kept the heat in their employee section as low as they legally could get away with.

She finally exclaimed in exasperation, “Pam, you’re going to knock me over if you get any closer! The medics checked me out, I swear. And where in blazes are you going in those?”

Momentarily distracted, Pam struck a dramatic pose in her form-fitting leather pants. “Mom picked up Katie to keep at the farm for a few days so I figured I’d hit the town. I need a drink; I think we all need a drink.” She caught her friend’s hands. “Go with me! We’ll burn this place down!”


I think someone already did that in 1896, according to the book I’m reading. But these jeans,” Rhi indicated her worn Levi’s, “are no match for your ensemble.”

Pam wrinkled her nose. “You could show up in a paper bag and everyone would still gawk at you, girlfriend. We need to blow off some steam!”


What about Ellie Mae?”


Let’s call Bobby Wayne. We don’t have time to go get the dog to barhop with us and I think Bobby’s a bit in love with her already.”

Pam wasn’t kidding about taking Ellie Mae barhopping, a Colorado peculiarity Rhi enjoyed tremendously. Many of the more rustic bars in the area welcomed canine companions. The custom was probably a good thing because from what Rhi had observed, everyone in the state owned at least one Labrador retriever.

Rhi tried to smile as she pulled her turtleneck high to cover the bruises and blisters on her neck. Maybe her head would clear after a few shots of top shelf
tequila. Or maybe a few gallons. If Bobby Wayne took care of Ellie Mae, they could get rooms in the town for the night if they over did it on the tequila.

Outside, a black and silver crystalline night lay on the other side of the double doors of the casino. The hulk of the surrounding Rockies cut through the starry heavens like stone blade.

They stood on the sidewalk admiring the view, and Pam drew in a lungful of air. “The air tonight is as pure as a virgin from Kansas at a Christian rock concert!” She gave a little impudent grin as Rhi rolled her eyes.


I want to know how
you
have any idea what a virgin is,” Rhi demanded before joining her friend in laughter. They strolled arm and arm into the night, the feminine sound ringing down the street like silver bells.

Along Bennett Avenue the casinos were almost empty in spite of the holiday. Most of the vacationers and retirees had scattered down Ute Pass to Colorado Springs earlier in the day and news of the murder cleared out all but the most diehard gamblers. The dinner hour left the brick walkways empty, the lights of the gas lamps and casinos coloring the street a deep blood red. A wild burro ambled past, taking a sniff of air. The animal’s eyes rolled in its head and the beast shot down the street, fleeing the shadows and startling both women.


Damned burros. They should’ve sent them to winter pasture by now,” Pam snarled. Her love of animals didn’t extend to the descendants of the boomtown’s original pack animals. The town’s burros were notorious for leaving ‘presents’ in the street and begging for food by sticking their heads into open car windows. Visitors considered them colorful but locals considered them a nuisance.


I think they keep them close to town now. The tourists want them around, even in winter. Part of the ambiance - especially the smell of their excrement,” Rhi pointed out, nodding at a pile of manure nearby.


Excrement? Can’t you call the stuff crap like the rest of us?”

They headed down a side street towards a local watering hole, the
Dancing Elk.
A couple in full period dress strolled past, the gentleman tipping his hat in their direction. The woman’s costume was perfection, down to the tiny mink stole wrapped around her shoulders and the outrageous hat pinned to the top of her pyramid of curls.


Those outfits are amazing!” Rhi glanced back to examine the couple but they were gone. “Where’d they go? They were just here.”

Pam shrugged but her expression was wary. “Rhi, if I were you, I’d not look too close at people wandering the streets or buildings in this town with costumes like those.”


Oh, Pam. Come on! Those people weren’t ghosts! I think you’ve been at high altitude too long.”


All I know is the residents of this town sometimes see dead people and I prefer not to know too much about it.” Pam squirmed and shifted her giant purse to the side so she could dig at the back of her leather pants.


If those are dead people then I want to talk to them. Wouldn’t that be the coolest?” Rhi turned to head in the general direction of where the couple might have gone.

Pam grabbed her by the arm and yanked, turning Rhi around to face the direction of the bar.

Rhi glared at her friend.


You get attacked by some kind of entity in the casino and you’re going to trot off after a few more? Let this go, Rhi. I’m changing the subject! Did you know the state with the most microbreweries per capita is Colorado? It makes a girl proud …” Pam broke off her praise of homemade beer with a gasp as Rhi stepped off the curb.

A large panel truck appeared around the corner going too fast for the autobahn, let alone a side street in Cripple Creek. A big, scarred hand grasped Rhi by the collar of her barn jacket, jerking her out of the way.

He had shoved Pam out of the way as well. She fell against a worn brick wall nearby, stunned. “He jumped out of nowhere as fast as the truck!”

Shocked, Rhi dropped onto one of the benches that lined the sidewalks and put her head between her knees, in an effort to control her breathing. Beside her stood the dream man, who watched as the truck continued on its way, the driver oblivious to the damage he almost caused.

Rhi glared up at him, meeting his sullen stare with her own. She took a moment to study his appearance as she collected herself.

The man was dressed in typical mountain garb: jeans, hiking boots, sweater, and a heavy suede bomber jacket. The clothes were expensive and the man who filled them built like a linebacker – or a panther, Rhi couldn’t decide which. With the blazing blue eyes and roughhewn features of a warrior, he could wear a kilt and carry a sword for the cover of one of the romance novels Rhi indulged in once in a while on her days off.

But at that moment he could have been a Greek god with a dozen roses for all she cared. She struggled to her feet, her face blood red.


I’m beginning get a bit paranoid when you’re around, whoever you are.” She bit off the words, her arm still burning from his touch. The flame spread to other parts of her anatomy in seconds. “Who in the hell
are
you?”


Hope to God you never find out,” he replied. The deep smooth tone of his voice set off her alarms as the sound wound its way through her thoughts to curl up to stay in a deserted corner of her subconscious. He stood close and the feel of his breath on her cheek made her heart bounce an extra beat.

He spun to stalk away from them. “You and Miss Douglas might want to stay at home for a few days. It would save me some trouble,” he shot over his shoulder before vanishing around the corner.

Pam gaped at her, speechless for the first time since Rhi met her.

So was she, Rhi decided while trying to catch her breath after her second close call of the day. The worst part hadn’t been the reappearance of her guy
,
but the eerie laughter in the air as she was hauled out of danger.


Did you hear someone laughing,” she asked Pam, who still gazed in awe at the corner around which the stranger had disappeared.


Was that guy hot or is it just me? Did you see the testosterone oozing out of his body? I wonder if he thinks he has too much – because I could volunteer to lick it off.”

Rhi shrugged. She refused to put the word ‘licking’ and the image of Jack Blackthorne together in her mind. It had been too long since she had gotten laid and her head might explode. But Pam - someone should get something out of all of this. She eyeballed
her friend, who held a hand up in denial.


Don’t, I was kidding … he’s too pretty for me. And if you didn’t make men feel like they opened up an industrial-sized freezer when you meet them, you might find something besides your dog to keep you warm – like him.”


You should go get him if you think he’s all that,” Rhi replied, trying not to stare at the corner longingly as well, hoping he’d reappear and carry her away.


He’s too young for me.” Her face was serious.

Rhi snorted. “I’m pretty sure he’s at least ten years older than you.”


I figure all men are twenty to thirty years younger mind wise than their bodies are. So he’s just past puberty.”


So you need a fifty year old man.”

Pam cackled. “Lord no! I’d kill the poor guy, being at my sexual peak and all.”

BOOK: Demon Hunt
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