Blood of the Demon (Kara Gillian 2)

Ryan’s expression mirrored my own as he swallowed his first bite. “I’m not sure I want to know what kind of animal was put into this burger.”

I took a long swig of my diet soda to wash it down, then tried the fries to see if they were any better. Overly greasy, with too much salt. I sighed and blotted at them with my napkin. “Anyway, the reyza was able to remove the wards, so now I can get into my aunt’s library.” I made a face that had nothing to do with the quality of the food or lack thereof. “Now my only challenge is finding the right book or paper or scroll. If she has a system in there, it’s way beyond me.”

He was quiet for a moment as he continued to work on his burger. “Have you been to see her?”

“My aunt?” I sighed and shrugged. “I’ve been a few times. But it’s not her. I mean, she’s not there, and it feels really weird sitting in a room visiting the empty shell. It’s like visiting a chair.” I toyed with a limp fry, dragging it through the ketchup. “But I know it’s expected of me, so I go every now and then, enough to keep people from saying I’m a lousy niece.”

He surprised me then by reaching across the table and gripping my hand. I looked down at his hand on mine and then up at him. “Not everyone’s against you,” he said. “Give it time. Like you said, stuff blows over.”

I forced a smile. “I know. It’s cool.” A busboy entered through the back door, and I had to breathe shallowly as the smell of rotting garbage from the alley wafted in with him. “Okay, I’m officially blaming you for choosing this place.”

“It’s pretty vile,” Ryan agreed.

I looked up as the busboy came over to the table, and I pushed the barely eaten burger away from me. “You can take that,” I said, gesturing to the plate. “I’m finished.”

The busboy scooped up the plate but nearly dropped it again as a din of barking and snarling erupted from beyond the back door.

The waitress looked up from her lethargic table-wiping. “Tommy, go chase those damn dogs away. I told you to stop feeding them scraps.”

Tommy dumped my plate into a plastic bin, then set the bin on a table near our booth, casting a black glare at the oblivious waitress as he slumped out the back door.

“Next time you can take me to someplace really classy,” I murmured to Ryan. “Like maybe the fried-chicken stand at the gas station.”

Ryan laughed and opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden nauseating roil of potency swept past us, momentarily robbing us both of breath before it was gone, leaving what felt like a taint of sewage in the arcane. “What the fuck was that?” Ryan gasped, gripping the edge of the table.

“The parking lot … by your office,” I managed to say, fighting back the taste of bile. “Feels the same.” A heartbeat later, a shrill scream of pain and terror came from the alley.

“That’s the kid,” Ryan said, already out of the booth and moving to the door. I wasn’t as fast but managed to stumble after him, only a few steps behind. It was hard to move quickly when you were trying hard not to throw up. Obviously Ryan hadn’t felt that awful surge of yuck as intensely as I had.

Ryan yanked the door open—not bursting through like an idiot but taking an instant to assess the situation in the back alley.

Not that it made a difference. In the split second that it took Ryan to finish pulling the door open, a sleek black shape hurtled through the door, striking Ryan square in the chest and knocking him flat. I caught a flash of teeth and claws as Ryan twisted as he landed, throwing off the … dog? That was the closest analogy I could come up with in those rushed seconds. Caninelike head and snout, lots of teeth, four legs, but with a slick, reptilian way of moving.

I yanked my gun from its holster as the thing launched itself at Ryan again. But Ryan reacted with a speed that impressed me, getting his legs up in time to catch the creature in the chest, shoving it away.

“Shoot it!” he yelled over the shrieking of the waitress. I didn’t need the encouragement. I squeezed off three quick rounds, the sound of the shots slamming through the restaurant, setting my ears ringing. The dog-thing jerked and shrieked as at least two of the shots found their mark, but a heartbeat later it was back on its feet, snarling at the two of us. Now I could get a better look at it, but it didn’t help. It was still vaguely doglike and really fucking scary-looking.

Ryan was breathing hard. “Did you hit it?”

“Yes! Shoot it some more!”

We both lifted our guns and started shooting, but this time the demon dog was ready, twisting to evade with unnatural speed that allowed only a few of the rounds to find their mark.

“Sonofabitch! Is it a demon?” Ryan demanded, as it appeared to shake off the effects of being shot as easily as shaking off a mosquito bite.

“Not one of the kinds I know,” I shouted, probably louder than necessary, but my ears were ringing from the shooting. “But it’s definitely other-planar.” I could see the telltale light instead of blood streaming from the wounds. I tried to remember how many rounds I’d fired. I didn’t have a spare magazine on me. I’d been going to lunch, damn it!

It launched itself at us again, in a blur of red eyes and white teeth. We both dove in opposite directions, as if we’d rehearsed it, but the dog-thing had apparently missed that particular rehearsal and twisted in midair to rake its claws at Ryan.

Ryan let out an explosive curse, then, in an act that was either incredibly courageous or incredibly stupid, grabbed the dog by its lower jaw and jammed his gun into the creature’s side, angling down and squeezing the trigger repeatedly until the slide of his gun locked back on his empty magazine. The dog-thing let out a howl of pain and rage, but a gut full of lead still didn’t seem to slow it down much. It snarled and twisted its head free of Ryan’s grasp, and I could see it poised to snap those deadly jaws onto something vital. I let out a yell and copied Ryan’s technique, jamming my gun against the creature and firing until the gun was empty. It had the desired result—at least partially. It screamed and lost interest in Ryan, turning that crimson gaze on me.

Okay, this is bad, the thought flashed through my head. I was out of bullets, and even with what had to be more than a dozen rounds in it, the thing wasn’t dead. Or, rather, it wasn’t dead enough. White light streamed from it in several places, but it didn’t look as if it would be discorporeating in the less than a second I probably had before the jaws clamped down on me. Given more time, I could possibly dismiss it back to whatever sphere it was from. But, then again, I didn’t think I’d be able to open a portal in the very short amount of time I had to work with.

Before I had a chance to enjoy the last split second of life as a whole person, another shot slammed through the room. The dog-thing’s head exploded in a burst of blue light, and then the body dropped heavily to the floor. I crabbed back, struggling to catch my breath as sparkles began to crawl over the body. A few seconds later the sparkles had completely consumed it, leaving behind nothing but a foul-smelling stain on the floor.

I looked up, past the arcane stain, then smiled weakly in relief.

“Good to see you, Agent Garner,” I said, voice only a little shaky. “That was some mighty fine shootin’, Tex.”