hand of hate 01 - destiny blues (16 page)

BOOK: hand of hate 01 - destiny blues
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Yikes. Adrenaline pounded through me. I took a deep breath and flung myself on top of the thing, trapping it mostly between the towel and my hands. Two-inch claws and serrated teeth tried to reach me.  If I let go, no doubt I’d be slashed to ribbons.  The tail whipped around frantically, as the body squirmed beneath the towel. With one hand, I gripped the thing across the back, just in front of the front legs, and with my other, I grabbed it just above the tail at the haunches. It was so thin, I had no problem holding it securely. The feverish heat of its rage soaked through the towel.  
 

“I’ve got him.”
 

“You ready?”
 

“Yeah.”
 

He lifted the thing up by its head with the pole, and I followed his movements, holding the writhing body over the open carrier door.  
 

“Tail first,” he said.  
 

Stiff-armed, I forced the lower half of the thing into the plastic crate. I let go, and Rhys pushed the rest of the creature inside, holding it down with the snake stick. I closed the wire door against the catch pole.  
 

“Okay, be ready to slam it, I’m going to loosen the noose.”  
 

“I got it.”
 

I kept the pressure on the door, and Rhys released the noose and drew the pole out of the box. I slammed the door and turned the lock mechanism. We both stepped back as the thing continued to fight and scream.
 

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Whew, I’m glad that’s over.” My arms stung where the naked tail slapped welts across my bare skin.  
 

Rhys picked up the towel that had fallen to the floor and draped it over the opening to the carrier. The opossum-thing quieted down right away.  
 

“Bollocks.” Rhys stared at a spot over my head. An identical opossum creature glared at us from on top of one of the file cabinets, two rows away.  
 

I flinched. “Look, there’s two of them.” I pointed to another one, peering out at us from end of the row.  “We’re going to need more, um stuff.”
 

Rhys swore and picked up the cat carrier, being careful to keep the towel over the front. I followed, carrying the snake pole and the rest of our gear. We stopped by Terry’s office on the way out, and Rhys told him that we’d be back to set more traps. Terry paled, and nodded.  
 

“I suggest you keep people out of the records room  for a while,” Rhys said.
 

“Shouldn’t be a problem. What are they?” Terry’s question echoed my own.  
 

“Rats,” Rhys answered. “A non-native species from Micronesia. Don’t know how they got here, but maybe somebody’s pet, or escaped from the zoo.”
 

“You’re saying they’re somebody’s pets?”
 

“Oh sure. People are crazy for these exotics. Then they get tired of them, and let them loose. Don’t worry, we’ll get ‘em taken care of for you, no problem.” Rhys headed toward the elevator, and I scurried along behind, not wanting to stay a minute longer. The sounds of machinery drowned out Terry’s protests.  
 

We rode the elevator in silence, ignoring the stares of the curious as we headed through the reception area and out to the truck. Rhys put the cat carrier on the bench seat between us. I waited until we exited the parking lot before I said anything.  
 

“That is not a rat.”
 

“And we have a winner,” he said, grinning at me. “Care to try for double Jeopardy, where the prizes are even bigger?”
 

“It’s a materialized djemon, right?”
 

“Yep.”   
 

“So this thing has a name? Could it hurt someone? Could it kill?”  
 

Rhys didn’t answer right away. “Well, they’re quick and stealthy; they have unnatural strength for their size. This one and the others we saw are still pretty small, but I think a sedated person in a hospital bed wouldn’t have much of a chance.”
 

The thought gave me the shivers. “Remind me to never wind up at St. Agrippa’s. Why did they call you?”
 

“Mystic Properties has a contract with the hospital for vermin control. You did a good job back there, Mattie. Thanks.”  
 

I basked in the compliment. “This isn’t the first one you’ve caught.”
 

“Nope.” Rhys turned right at 6
th
Street, which rimmed the lower edge of Sentinel Hill.  The road rose before us, the pavement eventually giving way to packed dirt. We bounced along, and the caged demon hissed with each jolt. Rhys stopped the truck in front of a locked gate stretching across the road. He got out and pulled a large ring of keys from his pocket, selected a key, and unlocked the gate. We drove through and continued our drive up the hill, after he locked the gate behind us.  
 

“I’m asking for an explanation here, Rhys. At least two more of those things are running loose in the basement of St. Agrippa’s. How did that happen? Does the FBI know? Wait a second.” The hairs on my scalp prickled. “Could a djemon made flesh be the serial killer?”  
 

“That’s what I think, although the djemon would have to be much larger than the one we caught today.  If the killer is a demon master, he’s had that djemon a long time. It takes decades for one to get big enough to do any real damage. My guess is that the big one has gotten too powerful to control. In that case, the master may have started naming new demons.”
 

I felt sick.  “Have you told Porter?”
 

“Of course. He was with me when I caught the first one. Let’s just say the local field office doesn’t think much of Frank Porter or his theories.”
 

I sat back in my seat, stunned. We’d stopped at another gate, this one merely a locked chain across the track. Rhys unlocked this one too, and we drove through, and again, he locked the chain back into place behind us.  
 

“One of the first victims found was a registered demon master. So was the most recent, Joanne Reynolds. But all the most recent victims were individuals known in the AI community to have unregistered demons. All the paranormals and supernaturals want this guy caught, but they dare not expose themselves to federal scrutiny, so as far as the FBI is concerned, the two demon master deaths aren’t significant. But I think the Night Shark is using a demon to kill demon masters.”
 

“I thought the FBI kept track of all the demon masters.”
 

Rhys smirked. “The FBI doesn’t know everything Mattie, and the anomalous community here in Shore Haven wants to keep it that way. Most demon masters keep their identity, as well as their demons, a secret. Law enforcement in this town is particularly suspicious and antagonistic toward the supernatural, and the AIs cannot afford to risk exposure.”
 

“Didn’t you show them the djemons?”
 

“Sure. They said the same thing you did. How can something so small be dangerous? And to be honest, the first one we caught was about half the size of this one here. None of the injuries on any of the victims found so far match up with the bite radius of any known djemons. If the killer is a djemon, it’s big. The FBI insists the marks on the victims are man-made, but they can’t identify the tool yet, and so far, no DNA has been found. But djemons don’t have DNA.  They’re animated, but not alive. There are no skin cells, saliva, or hairs shed.”
 

Goosebumps rolled up my arms.  
 

Rhys stopped the truck and turned off the engine.  “From here we walk. Come on, I’ve got coveralls and gear in the back.” He grabbed the cat carrier and I stepped out into the sultry wilderness on Sentinel Hill.  The forest dripped with moisture, a mist of sweat flies surrounded us.  
 

Rhys handed me a set of white coveralls, a pair of scuffed leather gloves, and kneepads. “These belong to a friend of mine.  She’s about your size.”
 

They were clean, at least. I tried to get them on over my jeans, but they wouldn’t button. I told Rhys not to look, and hid on the other side of the truck, while I took off my pants and put on the coveralls.  They were still snug on the bottom, and way too big on the top. I had to roll the pant legs up four times. The giant cavewoman must be built like Barbie. Great.  
 

Rhys passed me a miner’s hardhat and showed me how to work the headlight, then slung his daypack over one shoulder, and grabbed the cat carrier.  
 

“Come on, it’s not far.”
 

I followed him through wet woods toward the entrance of the cave, a million questions poised on the tip of my tongue.  
 

“Do you know where you’re going?”
 

“Been here a few times.”
 

“Shouldn’t Agent Porter be with us?”
 

“Frank’s a big guy. He can’t fit through the entrance. That’s why he gave me the keys.”
 

Sweat trickled from my hair into the collar of my coveralls. Rhys set a brisk pace, and I had to trot to keep up with him. Ten minutes later, we emerged into a rocky clearing.  
 

“Here we are.” Rhys rummaged around in his pack until he came out with a couple of small flashlights and handed one to me.
 

“You ready?”
 

I looked around, but didn’t see anything. “Where is the entrance?”
 

Rhys pointed to our feet.  
 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 19
 

“You have got to be kidding.”  
 

The half-hidden entrance wasn’t much more than a crack in the ground between two rough granite boulders. I’d imagined something grander; more along the lines of an Open Sesame kind of entrance. Anchored to the surrounding rocks, a sturdy grate covered the aperture and must have been in place for a long time. The lock looked shiny new.  
 

Rhys grinned like an idiot as he unlocked the gate and turned on his headlamp. I did the same, my discomfort growing every second.  
 

“Take it slow, mind your head.” He sat down at the fissure opening, dangled his legs, eased the cat carrier through, then lowered his body feet first and disappeared from sight.  
 

I took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. What was I doing here, anyway? Crawling into a hole in the ground with a guy I barely knew? Sure, he’s a great kisser and all, but what if I got lost and couldn’t find my way out? What if something happened? Mina would be left at school again, and no one would even know where to look for me. Hell, I could be dead.  
 

“Mattie?” Rhys scraped his way back to the entrance. Things sounded pretty tight inside. I bet Agent Porter wasn’t the only person who couldn’t fit through the entrance. I bet Cavewoman Barbie didn’t fit either.  
 

Rhys’s face popped into view from beneath me. “I thought you weren’t afraid of the dark?”
 

“I’m not.”
 

“What’s the problem?”  
 

I didn’t answer.
 

He hoisted himself out of the entrance with a grunt, and approached me with a small coil of blue nylon cord in his hand.  
 

Instinctively, I backed away. For a half-minute of eternity, I wondered if Rhys could be the Night Shark.  
 

He froze, his green eyes twinkling.  
 

I pointed at him. “Don’t you laugh at me. I just remembered, I need to make a phone call, that’s all. You know, in case I’m late.”  
 

“Cell phone service doesn’t work up here, Mattie. I should have said something earlier. Don’t worry.  We’ll be back in time for you to pick up Mina.”
 

Panic flooded through me. “What’s the rope for?” I thought about running back to the truck, but Rhys had the keys. No one would ever find me.  
 

“Come ‘ere.” He grabbed me by the baggy front of the coveralls, pulled me toward him, and wrapped a length of the nylon cord around my waist before I could react. He tied a fancy knot and gave a it a tug.  
 

“There.  Now you can’t get lost or separated from me.” He tied the other end around his own waist, using the same knot. “Better?”
 

Oh. Good thing I hadn’t made a total fool of myself. What a ninny. “I’m not scared.”
 

“Most people get scared the first time.” He grinned that bad boy grin again. “This part of the country is riddled with caves. I wish I could take you someplace special for your first time, but as caves go, this one’s not bad. Once we get inside, you’ll be fine. You okay?”
 

I’d met Rhys less than twenty-four hours ago. I chewed the inside of my lip. “Yeah.”
 

BOOK: hand of hate 01 - destiny blues
5.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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