The Devil's Daughter Complete Box Set, page 72
part #1 of The Devil's Daughter Series
The professor aimed his pen at Sere’s blood-soaked top. “Before we do anything else, we need to get Jennifer wrapped up and connected to our equipment so we can get that wound taken care of.”
64
Chapter 16
Wrapped in cloth and laid out on the worktable, Jennifer looked like a cross between Sleeping Beauty and a mummy. Sere kept hold of the woman’s hand while Doodlebug made the last of the connections between the bandage and the computer. “Last chance to back out.”
Jennifer squeezed Sere’s hand. “Not gonna happen.”
On the computer screen, Polly and Kendell were just finishing up the same preparation to Jennifer’s body. The professor checked his notepad. “Okay. So here’s the rundown of what’s going to happen. When I activate the link, Jennifer will go into a temporarily unconscious state of limbo. That will allow Sere to let go of her hand and sever their connection. Then Doodlebug will dig out the slug from Sere’s back. Since Sere is once again in hell, it will be easier for me to project the saved data regarding her flesh to heal the wound. It will still take a little time, however, so while that’s going on, Doodlebug will put on the headband to establish her connection to my equipment and join the other demons in Marjory’s bridge. In her computer-conscious state, she’ll be able to keep Jennifer calm. The instant Sere’s flesh is whole, we’ll start Jennifer’s transfer. That’s when things will really get interesting.”
Jennifer took such a deep breath that Sere thought she saw her body back in life inhale. “I’m ready.”
“See you back in the land of the living,” Sere said. Energy from the souls locked in the computer created a tingling sensation in her hand that grew into a constant electric shock, making it impossible to hang on. When Sere finally pulled her hand away, she turned to the computer screen. “Tell me you have her.”
The professor continued staring at his laptop for an uncomfortably long few seconds. “We’re all good. The connection is holding.”
“Now it’s your turn,” Doodlebug said, knife in hand.
“You don’t have to look so excited.” Sere unwrapped the makeshift tank top from her chest and leaned forward onto the desk next to the wrapped soul of Jennifer so Doodlebug could get at the wound.
As the only one with field medical experience, Bart sat alone at the computer in life. “Take the knife and cut an X over the wound. You’ll need to get at the sides of the bullet to make sure the whole thing comes out. There can’t be any pieces left inside Sere.”
Doodlebug aimed the dagger at the computer. “I am aware of the projection’s limitations. Just walk me through the surgery.” She pressed the edge of the knife firmly into Sere’s back.
Though the incision hurt, Sere had experienced far worse. “Make sure you go all the way to the slug,” she said.
Doodlebug angled the tip of the blade below the level of the bullet. “You really need to let me do this without kibitzing. No wonder doctors sedate their patients.” Her second cut was far less gentle than the first. “Now what?”
Bart leaned forward. “Push the hemostats as deep as you can alongside the bullet, grab it, and twist it out. Watch for any pieces that might break off.”
“Got it.”
The plunging metal tips reminded Sere so much of a bird pecking its beak into her flesh that she had to close her eyes and rest her head on her arms to keep from shaking. She willed herself into motionlessness until the oversized medical tweezers—and the nightmare image of a beak—pulled out of her flesh.
“Step two finished.” The sound of the professor’s pen scratching across his notepad prompted Sere to raise her head. “You can relax in the lounge chair while Doodlebug takes your seat at the table and puts on the headband.”
Free of Jennifer’s grasp, Sere settled into the professor’s Barcalounger while his equipment projected back tissue over the bullet wound. She turned the spent slug between her fingers. Even distorted from the impact with her stays and her flesh, the bullet’s copper exterior had the telltale dark red of having been cast in hell’s fires. Instead of blowing out like the hollow tip that Bart had showed her, being squeezed between the steel slats of her corset had forced the soft metal to retain some of its original shape. White plastic had squished out of a drill hole in the bottom and stuck to the edges. The replacement for the paranormal filling intended for Sere’s destruction felt like shredded coconut.
“Somebody had some munitions skills.” She bounced the slug on her palm. “Instead of expanding, this thing looks designed to collapse and lose its mass before doing any real damage.”
With everyone else preparing Jennifer for her big adventure, only Bart remained on the computer screen. He sat in the matching chair in life with his feet on the desk. “The exact opposite of what a bullet is intended to do. I think we can assume, for the moment, that Gerald Laroque is on our side.”
“Makes me almost regret locking him in the basement with his sister.”
Bart shrugged. “You probably did him a favor. If he is secretly working with us, you confirmed his cover of loyalty to Marjory.”
Happy for the distraction from her worries in hell, Sere thought about Gerald and his sister. She couldn’t believe being sealed in the basement had caused any more than an hour or two of discomfort. “Any word on what they’re up to?”
“Fisher is watching the financial waters for any ripple of movement from Marjory. So far, today, she’s been keeping a low profile. It hasn’t been that long since she had to face off against you.”
With Devlin free from the professor’s equipment, there was no way of finding out if he still existed or had eventually vaporized from the removal of the paranormal pellet. “If it weren’t for you and Fisher keeping an eye on life and Doodlebug doing the same in hell, I’d be completely blind as to what dangers I’m facing.”
His smoky-eyed smile aroused memories of lying naked beside him. “You’re being overly generous on my account. Fisher is the one pulling in the leads. Anything I can do to prepare for our next encounter with the Laroques?”
She looked around at the computer equipment in hell. Somewhere in all of the flickering screens were the lost souls of the people Marjory had imprisoned as her power cord of the damned. “We’ve got the baron’s journal, and hopefully, we’ve thwarted her latest raising of a devil. Seems like it would be a good time for her to regroup. We still need to free the spirits of the people her demons killed, but that’s more on the professor’s end of things than ours.” She couldn’t help thinking about what she’d left behind in the basement, though there was no way she could have moved the six-foot-tall iron cabinet. “It would sure be nice to get that vault out of Marjory’s hands.”
Bart leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head—a classic thinking position for the bartender. “Fisher said she’d built the bank around that vault. From the dimensions on the blueprint, I don’t think it would fit through the elevator door.”
“It might go through the baron’s old escape cave, though,” Sere said.
“Maybe. But since we’ve already used the tunnel, that secret isn’t so secret anymore. Marjory must have sealed it shut by now.”
Sere rocked side to side in her chair. “But she could only work on property the bank owns. Fisher figured out quite a lot from running his financial forensics. Maybe he can figure out how difficult it would be to break in again.”
“I’ll ask him to see what he can do.” Bart dropped his feet from the desk and scooted close to the computer camera. “If we have to go full invasion force, it would be nice to know who Joe used as his mercenaries.”
“You can check the leather satchel he left for me. It’s in my loft. But I don’t remember any folder marked Hirable Paramilitary Force.”
Bart thumped his fingers on the desk. “I figured it was too much to hope for. I’ll take a look anyway. He did have more secret contacts and hidden stashes than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Sere lifted her arms and stretched her side muscles. “I think that’s about as good as my back is likely to get. There’s still a lot to do before midnight. You can tell the professor he can start Jennifer’s transfer.”
Bart put his chin on his hands, looking like a sad puppy. “I wish I was there with you. Sounds like you two had quite the series of running battles.”
She pocketed the crushed slug in her jeans. “I don’t need a white knight coming to my rescue.”
He lifted his head as if offended. “When did I say anything about being your white knight? A soldier never likes being left behind in HQ while his squad is out on maneuvers. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a Cinderella complex?”
She stifled a snicker. Laughing hurt her side. “You would be the first.”
Sere had never felt so useless in her life. With Jennifer cocooned in cotton and hooked up to the equipment, all she could do was sit and watch. Doodlebug lay hunched over the table in her mental connection to the computers, depriving Sere of even the doppelgirl’s company.
By contrast, everyone on the computer display from life was busily monitoring and adjusting the professor’s equipment or attending to Jennifer’s body. They’d only get one shot at transferring the woman’s soul, and from the overall level of anxiety, they all seemed acutely aware of the responsibility. Like a child told to not get in the way, Sere sat quietly in the chair, wishing she could help.
“Okay, Sere, stay clear of the table,” Polly said.
She really wanted to stick her finger on Jennifer just to piss Polly off, but getting the woman home was more important than a momentary snarky response. “Yes, ma’am.” She kept watching the computer screen, hoping for some sign of either Larry or Kelly. Of all of the humans killed by demons, those two had been the ones Sere was closest to. She wanted to tell them that she was working on setting them free, to make sure they were okay, or to just have some contact with the kind souls. To her frustration, all she saw on the screen was a vortex of distorted images like the view from inside a tornado.
Behind the computer in hell, the cocoon of cotton wraps deflated until only Jennifer’s rag silhouette was left on the tabletop.
The mummy form on the screen sat bolt upright and took in a deep breath. She clawed at the coverings over her face until she could look around the room unimpeded by the cotton shroud. “Am I back?” Jennifer asked.
Everyone put their hands on her as if performing some kind of religious-cult ceremony. “You made it,” Kendell said.
Jennifer continued looking around at everyone like she didn’t quite believe it herself. “I need a phone. I need to call Henry. He’s going to be so worried.”
Bart reached into his pack and pulled out her lavender-cased cell phone. “You don’t need to be concerned. When I abducted your body, you were hunched over your phone, so I grabbed it and sent Henry a text saying you had to duck out to help a sick friend. Then first thing this morning—using your stored voiceprint on the professor’s equipment—we called to reassure him that you were coming home as soon as possible. I think he bought it.”
Jennifer snatched the phone and was quickly lost to the device.
Bart was the first to sit back in front of the computer. “Time to get moving, Sere. I’ll head out toward the swamp to meet you at the hell mouth.”
Sere grabbed onto the plan for her return. Though she was relieved to see Jennifer back among the living, the woman’s absence in hell made Sere feel all the more alone. The idea that Bart was waiting for her on the other side nearly made her forget about the dangers she still needed to face.
“Make sure you’ve got a rifle with you. I’m guessing monster-sized crawfish won’t be the only escapees. Has Chloe had any thoughts on how to contain this mess?”
“Not that she’s shared. Have you come up with anything?”
With Jenna as the knife, at least Sere had a starting point. “I can’t be sure if Jenna saw me run into these offices, but she knows I’m in hell. If her tugging on our connection is what’s widened the hell mouth, so long as she thinks I’m still here, maybe the problem will go back to just demons escaping.”
“That means you’ll have to sneak out of New Orleans. As a river bird, she’s bound to notice you riding up the Mississippi on the back of a thirty-foot alligator.”
Shit. Sere had really been looking forward to riding on Lefty’s back, where she felt safe. “I won’t be much less conspicuous fighting my way past the harvesters.”
Bart squared himself to the computer screen. “I’ve always believed in having as many options as possible. This was meant to be a surprise—on our way to finding Lefty, we picked up Joe’s motorcycle. I used the list of caches that he left for you to figure out the location. Chloe did some incantations and wrapped the bike in her magic cloth so it would make the transition between dimensions. She also put a mirror spell inside the gas tank, so as long as there’s fuel in my Ducati, the bike in hell shouldn’t need to fill up. We kind of doubted there were many gas stations where you are.”
Sere quivered at the good news. “Which bike?”
“The blackbird. It seemed the most appropriate motorcycle for hell.”
She wondered how fast she could teach her demon warrior how to ride. “Doodlebug is going to be hell on wheels with that thing when I leave.”
65
Chapter 17
Once Bart had signed off, Sere turned her attention to Doodlebug. The girl had her head down on the table and was groaning like someone coming out of a blackout. Sere reached over and shook her shoulder. “You still with me, soldier?”
“Those transfers are like having every molecule in my body separated out and shredded with radiation. Give me a minute to regroup.”
“We may not have a minute.” Sere headed to the cardboard-covered windows and peeked outside. Somewhere out there, Lefty was swimming into town. Hopefully, he had enough brains to stay underwater, but if Jenna couldn’t see him, neither could Sere. “You know these wharfs better than I do. If you were a boat captain intent on off-loading contraband without being noticed, where would you land your craft?”
Doodlebug lifted her head from the table. Her bloodshot eyes, pasted-flat hair, and drool-covered chin made it clear she wasn’t up for another mission in hell just yet. “You mean where a flock of birds wouldn’t see you? There are some spots along the Bywater where the old concrete and wood piers have sagged into the water. The area is overgrown with saplings, so the shore birds avoid it in favor of less obstructed views of the water.”
Sere suffered with the duel perception of the area as the nice, clean, modern riverside park that had been redeveloped within the last twenty years in life and the older hell version, which retained the crumbling unused docks that Agnes had copied. “Makes sense. Plus, Lefty would find that area more to his tastes than beaching close to the Quarter. Any way we can get there without being spotted by Jenna?”
Doodlebug stood up like an old woman whose joints had stiffened. “Between the standing wharfs and the fallen-in docks, we should be able to stay undercover while working downstream. The current is flowing out toward the gulf. It always is with hurricane Agnes swirling in the swamp.” Instead of heading toward the door, the girl turned down the hallway to the storage room behind the offices, and Sere hurriedly followed her. “The last time I was here, I found an old secret hatch under the peeling linoleum. From the case of empty whiskey bottles on a shelf under the building, I’m guessing this was a smuggler’s drop-off point during prohibition.” She grabbed what appeared to be a loose floorboard. When she lifted it, however, a six-foot-by-six-foot trap door opened.
“Good thing Agnes was thorough in her rendition of hell.” Sere snagged a T-shirt from the professor’s box of emergency provisions to replace the discarded bandage tank top. She then followed Doodlebug down the slimy waterlogged wooden ladder. “Which of hell’s creatures are we likely to encounter?”
“I try to stay out of the Mississippi unless it’s an emergency.” Doodlebug removed her shoes before stepping down into the river. “Keep your head above water and your sword handy. Fortunately, we won’t have to work too hard swimming, but don’t let the current bash you into a splintered wood piling. You’re sure that gator of yours is going to find us?”
“Lefty has been my protector since the day I stepped into hell. He continues to find me when I’m in trouble in life. That reptile has a way of sensing where I am and when I need him.”
Doodlebug waited until Sere was in the water next to her. “Having to rely on his extra-gator sense isn’t comforting.” She let go of the creosote-coated wooden post and started floating downstream.
Being wet and cold was pretty much a given in hell. At least the concrete deck overhead kept the rain from pelting Sere’s face. Once Doodlebug was a comfortable distance ahead, she let go to drift after the girl then watched her for any submerged dangers she might encounter. They wove between the solid-wood and concrete structures like skiers following the twists and turns of a slalom course. If there was anything under Sere, it was likely trying to save itself from plowing headfirst into a solid surface just as much as she was.
She was still struggling to maintain her position between the piers when a wave crashed against the shore behind her. The backwash flushed her out of her protective covering. Aquatic monsters not withstanding, staying above the river’s surface carried the risk of being seen by a member of Jenna’s airborne squadron. Sere dove under the swirling surface. The brackish water made it impossible to see any farther than three feet ahead, but the scaly muscular arm ending in razor-sharp claws wasn’t one she needed to inspect. She reached out and wrapped her hands around Lefty’s powerful front arm just as she’d done as a little girl playing with the gator in the swamp.
