Demon's Doorway (8 page)

"You'll have to forgive my mood. I haven't slept in two hundred years. It always keeps me on edge. And I'm in an especially bad mood. You see…yesterday I got this phone call from my daughter's school, telling me I have to drive to D.C., to the Smithsonian. Apparently, something terrible happened on a school field trip she was on."

Stan's eyes lit up. "Oh, shit—"

"That's what I said. So, I drove down there, and women are crying everywhere. I swear, it was like I was at the premiere of
Gone With The Wind
all over again. I pushed through these—" Jack cringed at the fresh memory. "Wet women, and found my daughter. She was crying her eyes out, but not for herself. No, that's not the kind of person she is. She's crying over her boyfriend. Can you believe that shit? A nine-year-old with a boyfriend? Anyway, it turns out her boyfriend was the boy who was kidnapped."

"Listen—"

"I did what any good father would do. I kissed her on the forehead, and told her I'd take care of it. I told myself I'd find every single person responsible for making my daughter cry, and kill them." He paused, letting his words sink in. "You made my daughter cry."

"There's more going on here than just a kidnapping."

"Oh? Do tell?"

"I
work
for Reigns, the kid's father. He's the one in charge. He hired me to kidnap his own kid. It's a scam, you see. All he's trying to do is make his wife look bad. They're getting a divorce, and she's taking everything. She was at that field trip yesterday. It's all designed just to hurt her."

"Ah, see, now I know you can be honest when you want to." Jack leaned down. "I already know."

"What?"

"How do you think I found you? Did you see him at the press conference last night? I've seen better acting from the mouth-breathers in my daughter's class. So, we had a little talk."

Stan let out a quiet laugh. "There's no way you got near Reigns. He has fifteen bodyguards."

"Eighteen, but there were a few you could count twice. I decapitated the last one in front of him, to show him the extent of my bad mood. He actually didn't know where his son was, but told me the man who worked for him did. Now, here we are, on this beautiful, fine day."

Stan couldn't speak. The horror was evident in his eyes. All his carefully laid plans, gone.

Jack twirled the shovel in his hand.

"Have the victim dig his own grave. From now on, Stan, I'm gonna call you Captain Cliche. But you can't deny the imagery, the state of mind it puts the victim in. So—" He pushed the shovel into the ground and gestured for Stan to approach. "Have at it. But I'm gonna need a
big
grave. Lots of bodies to bury."

Stan tentatively grabbed the shovel and started digging. Jack could see the mortal thinking, searching around him, looking for any possible way to escape. A large tree branch, a handful of leaves, the crowbar sitting not far away. Mortals were so predictable.

"How much did he pay you?"

Stan looked up. "What?"

"How much? To kidnap a defenseless boy?"

"Five hundred thousand. Half up front, half when done."

Jack shook his head, laughing. "I make that legally in eight hours. Pathetic. So many other ways to get custody of a child from an ex-wife."

"Like what?"

"Kill the ex-wife. No ex-wife, no custody hearing."

Stan paused for a moment, studying the psychotic man leaning against a tree. He knew now that Jack had done more terrible things than he could ever dream of. Jack's attitude wasn't a tough-guy act.

And bullets didn't bother him.

"While we're hunting for oil, tell me, where's the boy? Tommy? Bobby? Ah, Robbie. Where's Robbie?"

"You don't even know the kid's name?"

"Nope. Don't care, really. I don't know Robbie, don't give a shit about him. But my daughter wants him home, safe, so they can play. I'll kill anyone that gets in my way from making that happen. Now, if I have to repeat myself again, I'll maim you. Where's—?"

The phone in Jack's pocket started ringing. Stan made the mistake in thinking that Jack was momentarily distracted. He dropped the shovel and tried to run. Jack casually kicked Stan in the knee as he ran for the car, knocking one foot into the other. Stan fell to the ground. Jack grabbed the crowbar and pounded Stan's leg. He screamed with every strike, trying to crawl away. Jack spun the crowbar and buried the claw end into Stan's calf.

The kidnapper's eyes shot out of his head as he howled in pain. He looked up at Jack, tears forming. The angle reminded him once again of when he was a child, cowering from his father in the dining room.

The caller ID brought a smile to Jack's face.

"I searched you…" Stan muttered. "For a phone."

Jack smirked. Mortals were easy to fool.

He held the phone to his ear.

"Victoria, hi. Is this important? I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Help! Please, help!" Stan shouted.

Jack lowered the phone and drew his leg back. He kicked Stan in the temple, and the woods were once again filled with relative quiet as he moaned.

"What the hell is going on over there?" Victoria asked.

"Not much. I'm just getting ready to kill someone."

"Does he deserve it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then. Yes, this is important."

"What's up?"

"What are your plans for tomorrow?"

"That depends on how the rest of my day goes." He looked down at Stan as he held his head. "Doesn't it, Captain?"

"There's a wedding tomorrow I'd like you to come to."

"A wedding? Tomorrow? What dickhead gets married on a Thursday?"

"A friend of mine. It's the anniversary of when they met when they were kids."

Jack frowned. "That might be the dumbest thing I've heard in my life."

"I think it's sweet."

"Whatever. Why do you want me there? You have someone you want killed?"

"Christ, Jack, no. It's time you met him."

He gripped the phone tighter. "The witch? He'll be there?"

"Yeah. He'll be staying with me."

"I don't know if I'm ready yet."

"I'm not saying anything has to happen. Magic can stay off the table. Just bring Tiffany and Erica. Have a good time."

"Erica won't be able to get away from work. I could bring Tiffany, show her the city."

"Do they know yet? About you?"

"Tiffany knows bits and pieces, even if she doesn't see the whole picture. Erica, I've been able to keep in the dark so far. They're both smart, though. So, you're right, this meeting has to happen eventually."

"Okay, you'll be there?"

Jack let out a sigh. Plans started floating through his mind.

"Yeah. I'm in West Virginia right now. I'll catch a short flight, and have Erica put Tiffany on a plane."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow, then. And Jack…behave, okay?"

"Tiffany will be with me. I always behave around her."

"No, you don't."

Victoria hung up, and Jack let the phone hang at his side. Stan was almost an afterthought now, bleeding on the grass. Jack still had a job to finish. He hated leaving things undone.

"Okay, Captain," Jack said, hovering over him. "I've got some business I have to do, and then it's travel, travel, travel. I thought I had all day to have fun with you, but I've got less time than I thought. Funny, isn't it? A two-hundred-year-old guy that doesn't sleep, suddenly pressed for time. Anyway, I need to find Robbie, and I need to find him now. Tell me where he is, or I'll torture you. The things your father did to you? It'll look like recess."

"I'll…take you to him."

"Very smart choice."

CHAPTER 4

Kevin didn't know what the noise was that pulled him from his dream. Taylor Swift asking for a dance was interrupted by a screeching sound. He awoke in what felt like a sea of strangeness. Unfamiliar bed, rock-like pillow, confined room, completely dark. His thoughts finally cleared enough to remember he was in a hotel room.

The phone was ringing next to him.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Mishnar? Miss Victoria is on the phone for you."

"Uh, okay."

There was a brief pause before an unnaturally chipper voice greeted him.

"Kevin? Are you awake?"

"I am now. What time is it?"

"Six a.m."

He made an incomprehensible grumble and ran a hand through his hair. "Why couldn't I stay at your place again?"

"I told you. It's a surprise."

"Great. How are you even awake this early?"

"I've got some things with the reception I have to do. And, to be honest…I'm excited. It's a wedding, and I'm a woman."

Things happened so fast in packing and riding with Victoria to Baltimore. He'd been in town less than a day, and it dawned on him he really had no idea of what the plan was. It was a surprise Victoria even put him up in a hotel.

"Uh, so, you're coming to pick me up?"

"No. I'm so sorry, but I won't have time. A limo will come get you at ten."

"A limousine?"

"Yeah. You've ridden in one before, right? For Prom?"

"Nope."

"Oh, wow. It's gonna be new for you right off the bat. You don't have to worry about a thing. He'll take you right to the church, and you and I will drive together back to my house for the reception."

Kevin felt a lump in his throat. The gravity of what he agreed to landed right on his head. He'd have to dress in awkward, uncomfortable clothes, try to blend in with a crowd of people he didn't know. He only knew two people, Victoria and Alex, and he'd only met Alex one time. He'd have to try not to look like an out-of-place witch, something he'd been having trouble with lately.

He tried to think about something besides the wedding.

"This guy you want me to meet, he'll be there today?"

"We'll run into him sometime, yeah. I have to warn you about him. He's a little…off."

He laughed. "Aren't we all?"

"Him more than most. But don't worry, we'll have fun today."

"If you say so."

"Bring all your stuff to the limo. You won't be going back to the hotel tonight. And stop at the front desk on the way out. There's something there for you."

Kevin felt like he should be taking notes. "Holy crap. Is there anything else?"

"That will do it. I'll see you at the church."

They hung up. Kevin once again looked at the strange surroundings. He never traveled anywhere, never stayed at a hotel. His family never went on vacations growing up. After his adopted parents died in a plane crash it was all he and his sister could do just to get by. Traveling was out of the question.

So why was he in Baltimore, out of his element?

Boredom, plain and simple. Kevin knew he had no friends. He didn't know what to do with his life. What could a witch do? According to Victoria, anything. That's why everyone was so scared of them. That's why Victoria herself tried to kill him when they first met.

If they were so powerful, why did he feel so pathetic?

He pushed open the curtains and took in downtown Baltimore. It was certainly large, intimidating. The streets weren't too crowded, but he imagined they'd be full in a few hours. It was nothing like Walton. Traffic lights as far as the eye could see, one-way streets, buildings upon buildings.

"What did you get yourself in to?" he muttered aloud.

He wondered if he read his spell-book, and thought of Alex's wings, maybe some kind of spell would pop in his head that would let him get back to Walton. That's how his magic worked. He'd learned about many spells and potions from his family's history, but there were still plenty more out there. Inspiration would come at the weirdest times. Taking a shower, sitting at work, watching TV. Sometimes, the spell came to him all at once. Other times, it came in chunks. An ingredient here, and ingredient there.

He pulled his spell-book out of his travel bag and sat at the desk near the window. It comforted him simply to have the book nearby. It was old, weathered, looked like it belonged in a museum. The tome brought a smile to his face. Family that he'd never met read it,
wrote
in it. He even added new spells himself, in the language that only a witch could understand. Not only did the spell-book offer magical concoctions, but
history
. His biological grandfather once killed two werewolves by himself. His grand-uncle was the first witch to create an invisibility potion in under ten ingredients. His great-great-grandmother was witness to one of the first spells done outside a cauldron.

"What do you say?" he said, running a finger along the cover of the book. "Can you get me back home?"