It Happened One Doomsday (7 page)

For the moment, their table was empty except for Nate's dad, Jack. When he stood up, he was easily the shortest man in the room, and his thick nose was accentuated by heavy glasses and a steel-gray beard. But he made up for his gnomelike stature with a tailored suit and an ever-present smile. He clapped an arm around Nate's back, then turned to kiss Dru on the cheek.

“Dru, my dear, you look younger and prettier every time I see you.”

When she smiled, Jack gave her front teeth a critical frown. It was just a momentary glance, a mere instant of disapproval that vanished just as quickly. But the effect was enough to make Dru's hand fly to her mouth in embarrassment.

“Why does he always
do
that?” she whispered to Nate, as his dad spoke briefly to the maitre d'. “There's nothing wrong with my teeth!”

“Honey, we're a family of dentists,” Nate whispered back. “He can't help it.”

But that didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

Across the dining room, Tonya the hygienist appeared, smiling with dazzlingly perfect teeth, leading two bone-thin old men with paper-white hair and three-piece suits. She sauntered through the dining room toward their table, turning heads in her slinky red dress.

“That's them,” Jack said over his shoulder to Nate. “They're brothers. Did I tell you that? Klaus and Wilhelm Zubriggen. Twins.”

As they waited for Tonya and the investors, Dru leaned close to Nate. “If there was something wrong with my teeth, you would tell me, right?”

“Dad's a perfectionist,” Nate muttered back. “He's never happy. Just focus on making nice with the Swiss twins.”

Tonya, meanwhile, seemed to charm everyone around her the moment she opened her mouth. Absolutely no one frowned at her teeth, Dru noticed.

They all shook hands. When it came time to sit, Nate held Dru's chair, which he'd never done before. It was a nice touch. She tried to focus on that instead of how frazzled she already felt.

And then he held Tonya's chair for her.

Something about that simple act sent a stab of jealousy through her. No one else at the table seemed to notice. They were all smiles and nods, eagerly getting acquainted.

Dru appeared to be the only one who wasn't utterly charmed by Tonya's incandescent smile and eager attention. It occurred to Dru that there were plenty of other women like Tonya—women who didn't seem in the least bit as weird as Dru—who would be beside themselves with happiness to be sitting at this table with Nate.

Dru shook her head. She was driving herself crazy. She had to lighten up.

“So,” one of the Swiss twins said to Dru in his thick accent, breaking her runaway train of thoughts. “You are ze wife of Jack?”

Eww.
“Um, no. I am the girlfriend of Nate.”

Klaus, or maybe it was Wilhelm, cocked his head. “Why do you say it like so?”

“Like so . . . what?”

“‘Ze girlfriend of Nate.' So very strange. You are not from America?”

“Oh, I am totally from America.” Dru smiled, then realized Nate and Jack both looked distressed, while Tonya looked slyly amused. “I was just . . . Never mind. I'm from around here. Where are you from?”

The twins traded glances before giving her a puzzled look. “We are from Switzerland. You do not know of Switzerland?”

“No, of course, I know—”

“No?” The man tsked his disapproval. “It is the finest country in Europe. You should know this fact.”

“Yes. Thank you,” she said, louder than necessary.

After a moment of awkward silence, Tonya said breathlessly, “I've never been to Switzerland. What's it like?” Which brought a new wave of enthusiastic chatter from the investors, sprinkled with occasional phrases in German.

Dru pretended to study her menu until they had ordered, then excused herself and headed for the ladies' room. As she passed by the hostess station, she heard her name.

“Dru! Over here!”

She turned. There, squared off against a broad-shouldered, sweating maitre d', was Greyson. The only person in the whole place wearing jeans and a motorcycle jacket. Here, he looked even more out of place than he had in her shop.

The look on his face told her something was terribly wrong.

She rushed over to him, peering around the bulk of the maitre d', who looked as if he was trying to body block Greyson from taking another step inside.

“Greyson, what are you
doing
here?”

“What was in that drink you gave me?” His pupils were obviously dilated. His unusually pale skin glistened with sweat. “Something feels really wrong with me.”

The maitre d' shot Dru a surprised look. “You know this . . . gentleman?”

Greyson held his hands out, staring at them as if he'd never seen them before. “I feel so funky.”

Dru pulled Greyson a safe distance away from the maitre d's deepening frown. That was when she noticed Greyson was wearing a black AC/DC cap that proudly proclaimed
Highway to Hell
.

She glanced pointedly at his cap. “What's with the hat?”

He looked over both shoulders to make sure no one was standing nearby, his motions exaggerated as if he'd been drinking heavily. Then he leaned close and growled under his breath, “Look, I don't know how to say this, but I'm getting horns.”

“Horny?” Dru nearly choked.

“
Horns
.” He lifted up his cap and pointed at his forehead. Just above each temple, a peaked lump showed through his dark hair. “I thought they were bug bites, at first. But they just kept growing. I don't believe this is happening.”

She reached up and, after a moment's hesitation, felt the inch-tall lumps jutting from his head. Smooth ridges, rounded points, and hot to the touch. “Yeah, hmm. Those definitely seem like little horns.”

“I don't care how
little
they are,” he whispered fiercely, tugging his cap back on. Another couple came in through the doors behind him. With wary glances, they circled around at a safe distance.

Dru tried to project confidence she didn't feel. “Don't worry. Everything is going to be okay.”

He shot her a dark look. “There are
horns
growing from my
head
. Nothing about this is okay!”

That potion should have done away with any sort of demonic symptoms. Or at the least, things should have leveled off, not gotten worse. She'd never seen anything like this before. What vital clue was she missing?

“There's got to be something constantly re-afflicting you, accelerating your transformation. Your connection to it is only getting stronger. It's not the potion.”

“You're sure about that?” he said.

“The potion might be helping, but not enough. Something else is getting to you. It could be a charm, an icon. A physical object that the potion can't touch. Maybe a cursed artifact of some kind.”

His eyes narrowed. “What, like a voodoo mask?”

“I don't know! That's why I was going to check out your place, see what I could find.”

“What was in that drink, anyway?” He belched suddenly, drawing another dark scowl from the maitre d'.

Dru winced and steered Greyson closer to the exit. “Well, to stabilize your spirit, I needed to
use
spirits. Like, actual spirits.”

Greyson's eyes widened. “You mean I was drinking ghosts?”

“No, no, I mean alcohol. But special alcohol. The stuff I used was distilled from berries ritually harvested under a blue moon and filtered through Herkimer diamonds. Good stuff, and it should cleanse your spirit.”

He belched again. “
Urrp
. So not ghosts?”

“Mostly vodka.” A blast of stinky breath washed over her, and she tried in vain to wave it away. “Jeez. You didn't just slam down that entire potion, did you?”

The expression on his face warred between total denial and befuddled pride. “Maybe.” He quickly added, “Tell me you wouldn't do the same thing, if you started sprouting horns.”

“Are those getting longer?” She reached beneath his hat and squeezed his stumpy horns. “Does that hurt?”

“Who cares? No. They're
horns
. Get rid of them!”

“Dru!” Nate said behind her, making her jump. She spun around, suddenly guilt-ridden, although she had no idea why. She rubbed her fingertips together, still feeling the unsettling texture of Greyson's horns against her skin.

Nate approached them with a mystified look on his face. “Hey. Aren't you the guy with the old car?”

Greyson blinked unfocused eyes at him and turned to Dru. “Who the hell is this?”

“My boyfriend. Be nice.”

“Him? Really?” Before Dru could reply, Greyson gave Nate a pained smile and held out a hand. “Hey, bud. Name's Greyson.”

Nate looked him up and down, then reluctantly shook his hand. “Dr. Nate Corbin. How do you do?”

The handshake went on longer than it needed to. Dru watched the tendons flexing in both men's hands as each one tried to out-squeeze the other.

Her stomach did a flip-flop. She had no idea how she was going to explain this to Nate. “Honey.” She took his arm and pulled him away from the testosterone-fueled squeeze contest. “Look, I hate to do this, but I need to get Greyson back to the shop. Right now. I'm so sorry.”

Nate tilted his head in the direction of the table. “Maybe after dinner? Tonight is important.”

“I know. I know. Big night for you, and I get that. So . . . how about you stay and talk shop with Hans and Franz? I'll go get Greyson cleaned up.” She held up her hands. “I wouldn't do this unless it really was an emergency.”

“Emergency? What's wrong?” Nate pulled out his phone. “Do we need an ambulance?”

“Probably not a good idea.”

Nate hesitated, and his worried look turned into a frown. “Or maybe a cab, so he can sleep it off.”

How could she explain? After a torturous moment of hand-wringing, Dru decided to come clean. A hundred percent clean. If Nate truly loved her, he would have to believe in
her
, even if he didn't believe in magic.

“Okay. So. This is going to sound a little weird, but here it is.” She took a deep breath and explained as quickly as she could. “Right now, we have a magical emergency. Greyson here is about to undergo an awful transformation, a truly dangerous one, but I don't know why. This is a huge problem because the potion I gave him today should've worked, but it didn't. So I've got to get him back to the shop and find a cure for him, pronto. Right this second.”

Nate stared at her for a few seconds, blinked, then chuckled. “I get it. You're kidding.”

Dru clenched her hands at her sides. “Even if you don't believe in magic—”

Greyson stopped her with a touch on her arm. “You're right, man. She's kidding you. There's no emergency. I'm just a,
urrp
, rock collector. Looking for a gem.”

“Oh.” Nate looked relieved, if mildly disgusted. “Well. Mystery solved. I'm sure Dru can find one for you tomorrow, when the shop is open.” Nate tried to steer Dru back toward the dining room, but she resisted.

“Think I've already found it.” The urgency had left Greyson's voice, replaced by an easy drawl that only made Dru more worried. “And I've done my fair share of digging.”

Nate hesitated. “Really? Where do you dig? Up in the mountains?”

Greyson gave Nate a lazy smile. “Wherever looks the most promising. Most digs don't pan out. But you want to know what the funny thing is?”

Nate's expression turned guarded.

Greyson leaned closer, looming over Nate just a bit. “Funny thing is, just when you think you'll never find what you're looking for . . . it turns up right in front of you. The perfect gem. When you least expect it. And no one else has claimed it yet.”

“Is that a fact,” Nate said evenly, standing his ground.

“It is.”

Dru watched the exchange between the two men, seeing something going on just beneath the surface. Something unstated and primal, like two gorillas circling each other in the jungle. Neither of them was willing to back down.

She gripped Nate's arm and pulled him away. “Honey, I'm sure Greyson doesn't have time to chat.” She shot Greyson a warning look.

“She's right,” Greyson slurred, the pitch in his voice deepening dangerously. “She needs to come back to my place and check out my mojo. Ain't that right, Dru?”

Nate glared at Greyson, then turned aside and said to Dru, “What is he talking about?”

There's no time for this
, she thought.
Greyson is transforming into a demon! Right now!

Greyson stepped up close to them with a smile that seemed ever so slightly unhinged. “Well? Let's go, magic lady.”

8

THE DEVIL INSIDE

“Why don't I buy you a drink, and we'll call it a night?” Nate said to Greyson with a forced lightness that wouldn't have fooled a kindergartner. When Greyson shook his head, Nate said, “I insist.”

“Nate,” Dru said, leaning in close. “I need to get him out of here. Fast.”

“Going anywhere with him is a terrible idea,” he replied in a low voice.

“Hey,” Greyson barked. “The lady told you. We need to
go
.”

Seeing Greyson's state deteriorating before her eyes, Dru realized there was no more time for this nonsense. She took Nate's arm and pulled him a few steps away. “Honey. This dinner is too important to mess up.” He started to object, and she cut him off. “I'm taking Greyson back to the shop, right now, before he gets any sicker. I'll call Opal to help.”

Nate put his hand over hers. “
After
dinner.”

Greyson marched after Dru, but the bullish maitre d' put out an arm to block him, like a railroad gate coming down in his path. “I'm so sorry,
monsieur
. A jacket is required.”