Demon Hunt, page 13
Her captor didn’t glance at her as he answered Pam. “I’m over 800 years old. And Rhi’s older than you think she is.”
Rhi rolled her head back on the couch and moaned. “Great. I’m already sliding downhill towards my thirties and you tell me I’m older than I think? This day sucks.” She looked at Blackthorne’s mouth off to the side of her, the extra pointy teeth tucked out of sight. “Forget my last statement - okay?”
Pam sprawled in a nearby armchair. Her bright gaze greedily took in the room, especially Blackthorne. “So if you aren’t going to eat us, can we chat? And by the way, I’d find all of this a lot more believable if you could do a magic trick or something?”
“Maybe I could glow for you?”
“Yeah, glowing is good. But a macho color - not pink or yellow. You’ll look like a daisy.”
Houston, scandalized by this conversation, got up to stand by the fire. He acted no different than he did at the restaurant, his poker face in place - crawling bits of horror probably came through broken windows at him on a daily basis, Rhi decided. But he’d lived in these mountains for a while. And maybe he really had seen these bits of nightmare before. “Rhi, I believe you were about to tell us something you’d read earlier today before our little fracas?”
Rhi tried to appear as relaxed as Pam but slumping on the couch made her slide closer. She sat up, trying to maintain her dignity and lose the appearance of cuddling with a vampire. “Haven't you read Colorado Treasures, Houston? You haven’t heard the one about the crystal skull?”
Houston looked disgusted. “Do you know how many of those damned books have been written? If that much treasure was lost in this state, I couldn’t dig in my flower beds without hitting a conquistador helmet, the jewel encrusted statue of a saint and a bar of Aztec gold.”
Rhi related the entire tale to her friends, stealing glances at Blackthorne to gauge his reactions. She told her friends in detail about the slaughter he committed single-handedly several hundred years ago, and the story didn’t seem to faze the man she suspected was an honest-to-God knight of the Crusades. Pearl entered as Rhi spoke and put down a tray filled with steaming mugs and human-looking sticky buns.
Rhi paused to glance at the mass murderer who sat at ease nearby. She knew exactly who the remorseful knight in the story was. “You didn’t have to kill them, you know.”
“Yes, I did. The only one in the whole gang who would keep his word and never tell or return was the priest. And it sounds like even he told. The rest of them would never give up that kind of treasure. Or the possibility of the kind of power the Gate held. The place reeks of power and they would have sooner or later figured out the power could be harnessed. The greed of the Spaniards was unbelievable,” replied Blackthorne as he took a steaming mug from the proffered tray.
The human occupants of the room peeked at each other and shuddered. The chances of getting out of there alive were getting iffy. Hopefully, Pearl didn’t have some kind of fetish about feeding her potential victims chocolate and coffee before disemboweling them.
Taking a deep breath, Rhi plunged ahead. “Is this real? And if it is - I think you and Pearl have some more to add to it. You must want something from us or we wouldn’t be here.” There was a nasty certainty she wouldn’t like the answer.
Pearl posed in the light of the fireplace - her hourglass figure framed by the flames. “Come on Rhi, if you’ve gotten this far I think you could guess some of the rest.”
Shifting in her seat, Pam glared at Pearl. “We’re not guessing at this, guys. I have a little girl and would like to know if she’ll have a world to wake up to tomorrow - so start talking or let us go home. I have cats to feed and Rhi has a goofy dog waiting at home.”
“Rhi is the reincarnation of Raven, of course, and lived a life in the gold rush era of Colorado. She suffered from tuberculosis and lived with her mother in Manitou Springs down Ute Pass. Manitou was a Mecca for TB patients back then …”
“We know the history of the area, lady, stop treating us like greenhorns,” Pam noted coolly. “How is Rhi involved now?” The glow of the fire threw outlines of her frizzy locks onto the wall behind her, giving her the appearance of being seated in the wriggling arms of a beast.
Pearl’s glance flicked for an instant towards Blackthorne and then back to Pam, who met her stare head on. “She started this by catching the eye and then the heart of an almost immortal knight sworn to protect one of the Gates of Hell. The Brotherhood of the Gate had some archaic rules back then, including no women and a vow of chastity. Not to mention the nasty rule about not bathing - ugh. The knight - already a vow breaker because he liked soap and water - broke his vows to be with Raven, whom he met on one of his many trips to Colorado to check on the status of his assigned gate …”
“You mean he didn’t have to stand next to it at attention for eternity?”
“No. The Brotherhood has other means to transport themselves,” Pearl replied, ignoring the sarcasm in Rhi’s voice. “They’re powerful sorcerers who can appear where and when they are needed, but the act drains them. They are sworn to guard the gates and mankind against the day of the last battle, which must come in its own time. Jack left the order, giving up his place to wed. He handed his duties over to his brother, Manius, another knight recruited into the brotherhood. What he didn’t know was that Manius located one of the lost Keys of the Gates, a crystal skull that would unlock the very gate Jack handed over to him to guard. The long life of the Brotherhood jaded Manius and he wearied of his duties. The secret pursuits he took up to amuse himself would not have amused his brother or the leaders of his order who gave Jack their permission to leave. Their permission to live a normal human life and die with his wife.”
Wife. Rhi gulped.
“Another ex-husband,” said Pam dryly. “That’s all you needed, girl.”
Chapter Nineteen
Rhi gaped at her husband from an earlier life. Nausea welled up in her stomach as her mind made another connection. Manius Black said in the bar he’d had her before.
“Manius wanted to harness the power of the skull to destroy the brotherhood,” Pearl continued, not seeing Rhi’s horrified face. “But he couldn’t figure out how to use it. And his brother married one of the greatest witches of the era, who could look back into the depths of time for the instruction manual. He kidnapped Raven and tortured her for the information. She held out till we got there but died soon after we escaped. She wouldn’t take the blood Jack offered her.”
Rhi objected. “I thought he gave everything up to live and die with, er, her!”
“He couldn’t give up his powers to wed. Once a Changeling, always a Changeling. But we do sometimes weary of unending life and ‘retire’. He chose to be with Raven and would have willed himself to die to join her in the hereafter when she died. But Raven knew her body was too weak, even if Jack gave her the gift of demon blood. She cursed him and made him swear to keep watch for the day his brother returned to try to open the gate.”
Rhi slid away from Blackthorne to the other end of the couch. “Where’s the skull been all of these years?”
“The Brotherhood of the Gate’s high council decided to imprison Manius in a grave instead of killing him when he was captured. There’s a prophecy he will have something to do with destroying one of the gates. But someone dug him up a few years ago and released him - the idiot’s gotten addicted to television and led Jack around the world on several wild goose chases. Raven …” here Pearl paused again, took a breath and continued. “Raven hid the skull and didn’t live long enough to tell us where she hid it … or maybe she didn’t trust us. Manius wants you, Rhi, because you are part of this prophesy, fated to reveal the skull.”
I’ve seen it. The thought scurried like a rodent through her mind and a small, commanding voice broke into her mind. Don’t shout your thoughts - they can hear them when you do that! Rhi suppressed the image of the skull, stuffing it into a metaphysical drawer. She didn’t know for sure what side these people were on and now she heard a voice in her head. What side was it on?
“I don’t know where my spare car keys are,” she protested aloud. “How am I supposed to remember something from another life that I’m not sure is mine? Did you say a gate to Hell? Is there more than one?”
Blackthorne made a motion for Pearl to let him speak. “The skull will come to you by the appointed time,” he said. “Midnight, three nights from now. You will either be the instrument of destruction for the Cripple Creek Gate or the one who reopens a Pandora’s Box that has destroyed several civilizations. I didn’t understand at first. I thought your spirit would return somehow to reveal the skull. But you were reborn.”
“Manius will never let the skull go,” said Pearl. “If he can’t have this one, he’ll search for another. He is corrupted, with a thirst for blood beyond what the blood pollution of a demon can give. He thinks he will command the forces of Hell to do his bidding like Solomon did when he built his temple. Manius has forgotten what lives on the other side of those gates and he was never the most skillful necromancer. Also, there are many Gates and each has a different aspect. Open this one and you might open all of them - we don’t know.”
“Not to sound like a newbie at this, but if the Gate’s so hard to open, why do you guys bother to guard them at all? It seems to be a little idiotic,” Pam asked.
“If you owned a nuclear bomb you were fairly sure couldn’t be tampered with or set off, would you feel comfortable allowing anyone to play with the thing? No. You’d hide it and guard it,” Blackthorne replied. “The world was chaotic when the Brotherhood formed to guard the gates and a lot of knowledge has been lost or hidden. There could be other ways to open them and use them. We don’t know.”
Pam stared back at him, uncertain. “You mean to say someone could get the idea to, say, scribble graffiti on the gate and it might open?”
“That’s what I’m saying. The greatest monuments of the ancient world were built by the labor of demons brought through the gates by the ancients, who felt that they had power over the forces of Heaven, Earth and Hell. And being men, they got greedy.”
“But the gate must already be opened - we were just in a bar filled with creepy crawlies,” Rhi pointed out.
“The gate isn’t open,” he replied. “Manius raised his demons the hard way, out of one of the Hell Cracks that pop up around Cripple Creek every so often. It takes a great deal of power to control so many demons. Manius feeds his power by drinking blood and the fear he generates. He drinks human fear like we drink essence.”
Pam broke in. “What’s ‘demon blood’? Is that how you all got this way?”
“It’s sometimes called the Curse of the Wandering Jew but is much older than Christ.” Pearl restlessly stood, absently rubbing her neck. “There are several ways to become a vampire. The legends have it screwed up. You can become a vampire by the taking and giving of demon blood. The blood of demons corrupts all of the Brotherhood, although these days all you’ve got to do to become a Changeling is talk someone like me into giving the gift of my blood and survive the change. We are Changelings.”
Rhi stared at Pearl, aghast. “You drank demon blood?”
“No. I was bitten by one of the Princes of Hell, a big freaking demon, during the great fire. The poisoned bite was slowly killing me. I begged Jack for some of his blood to Change - I had a score to settle. We only feed off the life force of humans that surrounds their beings but we don’t drink blood. Our victims don’t miss it and regenerate it quickly,” Pearl explained.
“We need human food and drink as well, some of us more than others.” Blackthorne stared pointedly at the cup in Pearl’s hand from which the aroma of bourbon mixed with coffee rose. “We can live without it but suffer terribly.”
Pearl winked at Houston as she took a gulp from her mug. “Manius embraced the demon blood in full, feeding on human blood and fear.”
Rhi gave Pearl a wry grin. “Well, you have a much better eye color than the bad guys do.”
Pearl smiled. “Yes, there is that. It’s just as well because I look terrible in red. Manius always looks like he’s been on a bender.”
“What kind of score do you have to settle?”
An era of sadness passed through the woman's violet gaze. “Some of the girls he took to play his horrible games with during the gold rush were my friends, my sisters. In some ways, they were so innocent and I protected them. The police were useless. They hushed up the murders because they wanted Cripple Creek to be declared the new capitol of Colorado. A scandal was not what they needed. After all, the victims were just whores. I decided to go to you for help, Rhi, when you were Raven. There were mystics falling out of trees in those days, a few of them fakes. But you were the real thing. All of the witches of Manitou Springs deferred to your mother because of you. The top banana spiritualist in the world, Madame Blavatsky, was terrified of you.
“I’m not this person you think I am,” Rhi protested. “I’m a blackjack dealer - nothing special.”
The madam rose and stepped over to an ornate chest sitting nearby on a mahogany console. The heavy hinges on the box gave out a creak of protest upon being opened. She pulled out an old photo and stared at it for a moment. “If your dreams and the portrait don’t prove it to you, maybe this will.” She came to where Rhi sat, handing her the picture.
Rhi forced herself to look down at a sepia toned wedding photo of - herself. The original of the painting in the hall, the bride was dressed in full Victorian wedding finery, her dark hair gathered on her head in a precise imitation of the Gibson girls of the era. She stood proudly, one thin hand on the shoulder of the man sitting in the ornate chair beside her - a smiling and ever handsome Blackthorne in an era appropriate suit. Rhi felt the sudden urge to vomit. Darned sticky buns.
Pearl sighed and turned to face the portrait of a young girl hanging over the fireplace. “All auguries said that you and Manius would have something to do with the destruction of the gate. I shudder to think of how many pieces of chicken guts, bowls of water, piles of bones and tarot cards were looked into to come up with that brilliant idea. We stuck Manius in the Mt. Pisgah graveyard and all settled down to await Raven’s return, in one form or another. Somewhere in your mind, you know how to find the skull and erase this Gate of Hell from the Earth. The skull will turn up like a bad penny at any time. Fate is having its way with us.”
“Having its way with us, hell. Fate has risen up and bitten us on the ass,” Pam noted from the depths of her chair between dainty sips of hot chocolate.
Blackthorne stood to his full height, bones popping. “Perhaps you’ll trust me enough this time to at least let me know when the skull pops up before my brother takes you,” he told Rhi before stalking out of the room.
Pam came to Rhi’s rescue. “So all we have to do is live long enough to find the skull first and get Rhi to remember how to destroy it and the gate. Great. I hope whoever they get to play me in the movie has big boobs.”
The others gaped. She grinned. “I’ve always wanted big boobs - but I’m too chicken to get a boob job. I don’t get the whole ‘beauty is pain’ thing.”
As Pearl moved about the room, refilling coffee and cocoa mugs, Rhi realized with a start the drinks could be tainted. Too late now.
“I’d like you all to stay here tonight,” Pearl said. “This place is protected and Manius seems to be in a mood.”
“I have to get home to Ellie Mae. She’ll worry.”
Pam added, “I have my menagerie to feed. No one’s bothered us at home so far.”
Their hostess nodded. “That’s because as soon as I realized who Rhi was, I took measures. The parts of the mountain and your homes are warded, but getting there might be a problem.”
Rhi stood to stretch, trying to make herself look as tall as possible. “I’m going home to my dog and sleep in my own bed. Period.”
Silent up to this point, Houston finally spoke up. “Miss Pearl, I think these ladies have dealt with enough for the evening. I have had enough for one evening myself and I’m the one who used to fly over the Iraqi Guard and flip them off for kicks on a regular basis. We’re going home.”
Pearl nodded. “I’ll take you back to your cars, but don’t stop for anything on the way home. If something throws itself out into the middle of the road, run over it.” She addressed Rhi. “You have a role to play in this whether you want to or not … we will need to talk again.”
“If you talk to her, you talk to us all – Pearl.” Pam avoided any kind of title for the changeling as she loped over to stand beside her small friend. Rhi wondered how she ever could have thought of Pam as wishy-washy. “We can talk after the funeral we have to attend tomorrow. A funeral that wouldn’t be happening if you bothered to warn someone this was coming.”
“After several decades of fighting for Right, I’ve come to the realization I cannot save everyone. What was I supposed to do - run through the streets screaming out that an ancient knight has come to destroy us all with his minions? And by the way, I’m an undead madam from the gold rush who pops into town every fifty years or so to live for few years until people notice that I don’t get older? But, just so you know, there are folks in this town who’ve been warned and are preparing.”
“No one’s ever recognized you or realized what you are?” Houston asked in amazement as he helped Rhi on with her coat.
“Of course people have recognized me, Houston. But the locals I have been in contact with are nothing if not discreet or stark raving mad so no one takes them seriously anyway,” Pearl broke off as Blackthorne reentered the room, pulling on a fresh sheepskin coat, the other having been left on the floor of the bar after the fight. Rhi felt a stab of jealousy as she realized that he was staying at the madam’s house and considered it home.
“Are we ready for a road trip, people?” Blackthorne asked, his composure regained and the cold mask back in place over his well-cut features.
He didn’t bother to try to get us to stay, Rhi thought bitterly. Pearl was exquisite and appealing in spite of her checkered past.
