Vengeance of the Demon (Kara Gillian 7)

He burst out the front door and leaped from porch to ground without a break in stride. I snagged my gun and holster from the table by the door then ran down the steps as Bryce dove behind the wheel of the Malibu. I barely managed to get into the passenger side before he gunned it down the driveway, and I braced myself as he screamed around the curves.

He hit the remote to open the gate when we were fifty yards away then slammed on the brakes. He knew better than to drive right smack into a potentially bad scene. I already had my door open and jumped out before the car stopped moving. Bryce threw it into park and bailed out on his side. Together we approached the end of the driveway in a low run and with guns at the ready.

Jill’s car remained cocked at an angle with its front fender against a tree. No sign of the black van I’d seen on the video or anyone else. My pulse thudded loud in my ears, and I took deep and slow breaths to control my reaction to the gallons of adrenaline in my system.

“See anything?” I asked, staying low. I didn’t bother to keep my voice down. If anyone was out here, they’d see us.

Bryce hadn’t stopped scanning for threats. “Clear so far,” he finally said, expression intense. Together we moved forward until we could see inside the car. Glass fragments glittered on the dash and interior. Jill’s purse and the case file lay on the floor on the passenger side. No sign of Steeev or Jill. An icy fist clutched at my gut.

“She’s not here,” I said, unable to keep my voice steady. I yanked the driver’s side door open, and my heart dropped as the distinct odor of sulfur and ozone poured out. “They killed Steeev.” Killed him on Earth, at least. As soon as he’d died here his body had discorporeated, but it remained to be seen whether he made it back home to the demon realm. My hand tightened on the butt of my gun. “And they have Jill. They got Jill.”

Bryce remained silent, demeanor dark and scary. He scrutinized the hole in the windshield and the cracks that radiated from it, then leaned close to peer at the hole in the driver’s seat.

“High-powered rifle,” he said, voice so cold it could freeze lava. “Round went through the windshield, through Steeev, and into the backseat.” He pulled the back door open, snapped a knife out, and slashed the cushion. After a couple of seconds of digging, he held up a deformed copper projectile that looked more like a flower than a bullet.

“Three-oh-eight,” Bryce said, tightening his hand around it. “I’ll bet anything it came from a Bergara tactical rifle with a Schmidt and Bender scope.” He swept an expert gaze at the surrounding woods. “Leo Carter. He has extensive sniper training. That’s the rifle he uses, and this was no amateur shot.” Bryce gestured toward a stand of trees by the curve in the road. “He most likely set up there. Clear view, and five hundred yards would be easy for Carter.”

I didn’t fucking care what kind of round or gun he’d used to kill Steeev. I wanted to scream that, but I knew focusing on these details was how Bryce kept himself from breaking apart. Throat tight, I gave him a nod. “We’ll check it out,” I said. “We’ll check everything out. Good work.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and my heart leaped when I yanked it out and saw Jill’s name. Yet in the next instant it crashed again. It meant they had her and were going to make their demands. Rage burned through me as I jammed the answer button. “You goddamn motherfucking pieces of shit fuckstains,” I yelled into the phone. “If you touch one hair on her head I’ll—”

“Kara! Shut up!”

Jill. That was Jill’s voice. She sounded upset, which was understandable. “Jill, don’t be afraid!” I frantically beckoned Bryce over. “Those assholes won’t dare hurt you, and I won’t stop until I find you!”

“Yeah, finding me would be nice,” she said. “I’m in the middle of the woods. What happened?”

I didn’t want to tell her about Steeev, not over the phone. “They took you, but we’re going to get you back. Can you describe anything around you?” Weird that they were letting her talk so freely. Maybe they didn’t realize she had her phone?

“Took me? What are you talking about? Oh! I think I’m on your property. I see the high wall for the obstacle course. And I hear Sammy barking. At least I think it’s Sammy.”

It took me a stupid moment to comprehend, then I started jumping up and down like a third grader who’d won a trip to Disney. “She’s here!” I screeched to Bryce, but he was already fishing the keys from his pocket.

“Go,” he said, his voice thick with worry. “Send Pellini out here when you get to the house.”

I snatched the keys from his hand and sprinted to the Malibu. Pellini was on the porch as I pulled up, a shotgun in his hands. Idris jogged from the backyard toward me.

“They shot Steeev,” I shouted to them as I jumped out. “Jill’s okay and in the woods. Pellini, go help Bryce. Idris, help me find Jill.”

Neither questioned my orders. Pellini hopped in his truck and raced up front. With the help of Sammy, Idris and I soon located a very perplexed Jill. Idris helped me get her back to the house then joined the other two at the gate.

I settled Jill on the sofa then sat close by and peered at her with worry. She appeared completely unharmed other than a thin streak of blood on her cheek, likely from flying glass.

“Would you please stop looking at me like I’m some kind of alien,” she snapped.

I winced. “Sorry. I’m trying to figure out what happened.” As much as I tried to come up with other possibilities, I kept returning to the same conclusion. She’d been in the car one moment and in the woods the next. A few days earlier, she’d been on the porch then traveled instantaneously to the pond valve.

As if in response to my growing suspicion, she put her hand on her belly and shifted in discomfort. “The bean is wiggling hard. All elbows again.”

“She knows you’re upset,” I said absently. The demahnk could teleport, so maybe the child of one could as well? It boggled my mind that an unborn baby could have enough awareness of the world outside its cozy swimming pool to consciously teleport and bring mommy with her.

Survival reflex? That was a little easier to handle. I snorted to myself. Right. I was fine with the concept of a teleporting demon baby but not with how aware it might be? I’d been dealing with this weird shit for FAR too long.

I dismissed all thoughts of instantaneous-hyper-aware-fetus transport. “What do you remember?” I asked.

Her brow creased. “Steeev was driving, and we headed out the gate. I told him he had biscuit crumbs on his shirt. He smiled and—” She stopped, blinked.

“And what?”