Demon Song (Blood Singer #3)

Demon Song (Blood Singer #3) Page 38

I finally returned to the topic I’d started with when I’d woken them both up from a sound sleep two hours before. “So now I’ve got to find someone who knows about dimensional rifts. That’s your area, Emma. Whatcha got?”

She waved her hands in front of her. “Nope. Not me. Ask about ordinary multiple dimensions and I’m your girl. But this is metaphysical stuff. You’ll find the best records in religious texts. But for history…” She leaned back into the stack of pillows she’d piled on the couch. “Your best bet would be Aaron Sloan. He’s one of the top experts in demonology.”

That perked me right up. “Is he the same Dr. Sloan your father knows?” When she nodded, I let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve met him. He does know his stuff and he’s been looking into the death curse Stefania put on me.”

One of the best things about voice mail was it didn’t care what time it was. I left a long message and gave my cell phone number for him to call on Monday.

The girls left as I was checking my own voice mail. Dawna had been right. There were a lot of calls from people trying to hire me. It should have made me happy, but I was too tired to care. The morning was going to come far too soon, and I still had to make a list of things I had to do. I was yawning as I powered up my laptop.

It was the last thing I remembered doing.

I woke to a knock on my door and lifted my face from where it was resting on the laptop keys. Yuck! I’d drooled into the keyboard. God, I hoped it wasn’t ruined. “Who is it?”

“Dawna. Are you packed yet? Weren’t you supposed to be back in time to take your gran to church?”

My head was pounding like I was just coming off a three-day drunk, and there was a weird metallic taste in my mouth. I stumbled to my feet and caught sight of myself in the mirror above the dresser: pasty green-white skin, bloodshot eyes with dark bruising underneath, and a lovely checkerboard pattern of dents across my cheek. Terrific. I picked up my cell phone to see how many messages Gran had left, but the battery was completely dead.

I could already see this was going to be a very special morning. I decided I didn’t want anyone to see me until I looked more … human. I went to the door and looked through the peephole at Dawna’s annoyingly smiling face. I raised my voice enough to be heard through the door: “Could you call her? Please? Ask if she can take the bus. Otherwise, I can take her to evening services. I literally woke up when you knocked. I really need a shower before I can be semicoherent.”

“Sure. Happy to.” There was an edge to her voice that said she wasn’t happy at all, but she’d do it because she was my friend.

The shower was heating and I was dumping out my whole makeup kit in a search for the concealer when I heard another knock. Yea dogs, what now?

I wrapped a fluffy white robe around me and went to the door. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you moving yet, girlfriend? Am I just now hearing your shower running?” My brow furrowed, because it was Dawna. Again.

“Did you call Gran yet?”

“Why would I call your gran? Is something wrong?”

A buzzing started in my ears and my heart started pumping fast. “Did you knock on my door a few minutes ago and tell me to hurry up?”

“Hell, no. I’ve been downstairs with Emma, getting you something for breakfast.” I looked out the peephole and saw her holding up a bottle of milk and a nutrition shake. “All they had was banana, but drink it anyway. You had a long night.”

“Hang on just a second.” I raced across the room and rummaged through my bags. When I walked back to the door, I used one hand to unlatch the security hook, flip the lock, and turn the knob. The other hand held a One Shot water pistol. “C’mon in.”

She walked through the door and I fired. The water hit her right in the face and she sputtered and spit. “What is wrong with you, woman?”

My voice came out very quiet but very fast. “Dawna, you were just here—like two minutes ago. You told me we needed to go pick up Gran for church.”

She frowned. “Was not.”

“Yeah, you were.” I nodded and raced to the nightstand. Screw the phone charges. I dialed Gran’s number.

She answered on the first ring: “Hello?”

“Gran, this is Celia. Don’t say a word. Did Dawna just call you?”

I held out the phone so the real Dawna could hear the response: “Yes, she did. You want me to take the bus to service this morning because you’re running late. And I’d rather do that than wait until the evening service. I just don’t like the choir selections at night. They’re too … modern.”

Dawna’s mouth opened in shock and she raised a hand to cover her gasp as she realized the implications.

“Gran, get out of the house. Now. Go to the main office, call a cab, and go straight to church. You’re in danger.”

“Celia?” Her voice got very soft and worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Dawna’s standing right here with me and she didn’t make that call. A demon is impersonating her … it probably escaped from the prison last night. Get to holy ground and stay there until I come for you. Okay? Promise me!”

Thankfully, my grandmother’s nothing if not a pragmatist. She was there when Lilith tried to destroy Mom and when Reverend Al was killed by Eirene’s minion. “There’s a Catholic church right across the street. It’s not my church, but I can walk there faster than a cab can get here.”

“Good. Take your friends with you, in case the demon tries to coerce you.”

“Pili’s awake. She was going to go to services with me. We’ll get Ahn, too. I’ll hang up now. You stay safe, baby. Don’t worry about me. It’ll distract you.”

Another knock sounded and Dawna rushed the few feet to the door. She peered through the peephole and mouthed, Emma.

I tossed her my last One Shot. Dawna opened the door slowly, and when Emma walked in Dawna squirted her in the face.

The thing that looked like Emma screamed and lashed out at Dawna, who ducked and did a diving roll while the demon was blinded. I hung up the phone and lunged for my weapons. The handgun was closest and was loaded with silver. I fired two shots at the entity’s chest and it exploded into a million pieces. Wow. Never seen that before.

Viscous red gunk splattered across the walls and floor and even started dripping down from the ceiling. My credit card company was not going to be happy with me.

While Dawna curled into a near-fetal ball on the couch, I calmly sat down on the bed and picked up the phone again. I pressed zero twice and a chirpy voice answered, “Front desk.”

“Hi. This is room eight-oh-nine. We need … oh, we need lots of things. Probably a detective and a priest to start with, and then Housekeeping will need a whole bunch of towels.”

There’s a point at which even the best spa is taxed to the limit. “Um … I’ll see what I can do.”

“Where’s Emma?” Dawna’s voice was soft and painted with fear.

“Did you go to her room or did she come to yours?”

Dawna’s face brightened a little. “She came to mine. Do you think…?”

It was worth a try. I dialed room-to-room and a sleepy voice sounded on the other end of extension eight fourteen. “ ’Lo?”

My whole body collapsed with relief. I felt almost numb. “Em? Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay!”

Her voice sounded muffled, like it was under a pillow. “God, keep it down. I’m fine. I was asleep. My head is killing me from all that wine.”

Dawna started crying with almost hysterical intensity and Emma heard. Her voice became more alert: “What’s wrong? Celia, tell me what’s going on.”

I threw my head back against the wall and let out a long breath. “Keep the doors locked and turn on the magical barrier if you haven’t already. And keep a One Shot handy. Something was impersonating you. It’s dead now.”

Her voice got suddenly shaky as my words hit home, and her sniffling gave way to crying. “I need to get back to Birchwoods. Tell me we’re going back today.”

One crying on the phone and the other crying on the couch. My relaxing weekend with the girls had backfired big-time.

Just then there was a knock on the door and the announcement, “House detective. Ms. Graves? Could you open the door?” Great. The local law had arrived and I was wearing nothing but a robe that was covered with blood.

Yep. This day was going to suck moss-covered swamp rocks.

17

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t care what your corporate office said! I’m saying that your faulty barrier nearly got us killed.” I slammed my hand down on the front desk and then threw what used to be a snow-white towel onto the elegant marble. It landed with a moist thud, thanks to the fact that it was covered with blood and visceral chunks of what used to be a demon. “This would be me if I wasn’t a professional bodyguard who just happened to have the right tools on hand to kill this thing.”

Yes, I’d made sure the towel had been blessed before I marched off with it. But I wanted to make it crystal clear to the management that I’d nearly died … in their spa. I wasn’t a happy camper. Not only that, but my friends were suffering. Real therapeutic weekend.

The young desk clerk, whose name badge read Cyndi, turned white as a sheet and raced through the door into the office with a hand held over her mouth. The dark-skinned manager named Leonard made an expression of extreme distaste as his colleague noisily emptied her stomach behind the wall. He produced a trash can from behind the counter, grasped the towel’s one relatively clean corner, and pulled the bloody mess into the wastebasket. “Ms. Graves—that was unnecessarily vulgar. There’s no need to traumatize my staff.”

I threw up my hands and pointed to the elevator. “Why not share the love? I’ve got two traumatized friends upstairs and I want to know what you’re going to do about it. A demon should not have been able to get in this establishment. When did you really last have that barrier serviced?”