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Nathan studied the book. “It says here they can only be killed with silver and Holy water…to the heart.” His eyes widened. “How do we manage that?”
Before Case could answer, Jordan said, “Silver, hypodermic darts.”
Her uncle nodded.
Quinn motioned for the journal and Nathan passed it over. He frowned as he read over the entry. “Will any other weapons slow it down, Case? I have to say I’m not too crazy about going up against this thing with only a dart gun and a prayer.”
Case looked thoughtful. “If I remember correctly, silver bullets will stun ‘em, but won’t stop ‘em for long. We got plenty of the darts and Holy water, but I’ll need to cast some more bullets tonight.”
Quinn reached for the whiskey. “I’ll help.” He carried the bottle out of the room, no doubt heading for the basement where they kept weapons and supplies.
Uncle Case got up to follow. “You two,” he nodded to Jordan and Nathan, “get your bags packed. Nathan, take inventory of two of the cars; make sure we have everything we need. Jordan, pack two coolers with provisions and grab some cash. We’ll leave by ten in the morning.”
Jordan was heading up to bed when she heard Uncle Case and Quinn’s voices coming from the study. The door was cracked and when she heard her name, she stopped outside to listen.
“…just don’t understand why Jordan has to come with us. It’s a two-day trip, and that’s with us hauling ass. Nathan and I are used to it and we work better when we don’t have to babysit.”
“It’s too dangerous for you boys to do this one alone. There could be more than one of those bastards and I’ve got the experience.”
Someone, Quinn most likely, slammed his hand on the desk. “Then you come with us and she can stay here! Dammit, Case; these hunts are my only time away from her.”
Jordan flinched at the anger in his voice. She knew her brother hated her, but she had no idea he went on jobs to escape her presence. She wondered how many of the hunts he and Nathan went on actually lasted weeks on end and how many Quinn dragged out as a mini vacation from her.
“Quinn, your sister is a damn good Slayer and you know it. We don’t have time for a Drama-Queen episode right now, so put on your big-boy panties. We’ve got other problems.”
There was the tinkling sound of glass against glass. Someone was pouring another shot of whiskey.
“Problems – you mean other than the f-ugly giant bat we have to dispose of?”
“Yes. Michael told me about a situation today that needs researching. It’s something they’ve never seen before.”
Jordan waited with Quinn for Uncle Case to continue.
“Seems a member of the Circle may be possessed, but this is no ordinary demon possession. The member was conversing with an angel when their eyes turned pearl-white. We all know that’s a sign of a high-level demon.”
“What’s so strange about that? Demon possession happens all the time. Most of the Circle members aren’t in danger, but it’s been known to happen. Do an exorcism, expel the demon. If that doesn’t work… well…we know what has to be done.”
Yes, they all knew. If an exorcism didn’t work, the only way to get rid of a demon was a stab through the possessed’s heart with silver. That would send the demon back to Hell. Unfortunately, it also killed the innocent person the demon was inside of.
Quinn continued, “What I don’t understand is if the angel detected possession, why didn’t he, or she, just zap the damn thing out? They’re the only ones who can actually kill demons.”
Good question, Jordan thought.
Uncle Case cleared his throat. She could hear him pacing the room. Whatever was going on, it had him on edge. Usually, Case was as cool as ice when it came to situations like this.
“Because the angel couldn’t detect any demon, that’s why.”
Now that was strange. Angels and demons were each other’s counterparts in a way. They could always sense each other. The only being who could kill a demon was an angel. However, demons couldn’t kill angels. The whole thing made Jordan’s head hurt, so she tried not to think about it too much.
“So, this person’s eyes turned white, but they weren’t possessed by a demon? How can that be?”
“That’s what we need to figure out.”
“Who’s the person?”
Uncle Case’s heavy tread stopped outside the door. Jordan prepared to move. If he’d wanted her to know about this, he’d have told her. Thankfully, he stopped before opening the door the rest of the way.
“Michael wouldn’t say. He just asked that we look into it -- see if there’s any record of something like this happening before. Fill your brother in, would ya? Don’t say anything to Jordan, though…not yet.”
It was time to make a quick departure. Jordan turned to go and ran smack into Nathan. She would have yelped if he hadn’t used his quick reflexes to slap a hand over her mouth. He pulled her from the hallway and didn’t let go until they reached her bedroom on the second floor.
“Eavesdropping, little sis?” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
She punched his arm and then flopped on her bed, exhausted.
“Did you hear all that?” she asked.
Nathan sat beside her. He picked up her stuffed bear, twirling it around in his huge hands.
“Enough of it, yeah.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that happening before. Have you?”
Nathan shook his head, brown hair falling in his eyes. He pushed it away. “Something doesn’t add up. In all my years of doing this, I’ve never read anything about a person’s eyes changing like that without a demon involved.”
Jordan curled up next to him, laying her head in his lap. “Nathan, this trip’s gonna be about as tolerable as the measles. Not only do we have that nightmare to kill, but Quinn and I…” She trailed off, remembering something her brother said to Case.
“Nathan, if I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
He pulled on her hair. “Shoot.”
“Quinn told Uncle Case the jobs y’all go on are his only break from me. Has he ever extended your trips on purpose, you know – so he could stay away longer?”
Nathan was silent. It was all the answer she needed.
“Jordan, he’ll change one day. I don’t think it’s just you or Mom’s death – it’s what we do. Killing things all the time can turn you into a hurtful douche if you let it. Quinn has a difficult time dealing. We cope better than he does. He doesn’t want to seem weak, so he builds a fortress around himself and only opens the door to a few.”
Jordan yawned. The day was catching up with her fast. “He doesn’t treat you or Uncle Case that way.”
Nathan looked down at her, smiling – but sadness filled his eyes. She loved how honest he was with her, but oh God, sometimes it hurt.
“Jordy,” he said, using his pet name for her. “Quinn’s biggest fear is that he’ll have to relive the pain he went through when we lost Mom. With Slayers, you never know how much time you have, but Quinn has this chauvinistic perception that men should protect women, no matter how proficient they are with weapons. I think he keeps his distance from you because he’s scared to get too close.”
Jordan chewed on that for a minute. “But he couldn’t have saved Mom. Surely he must know that.”
“Very true, and that’s where the problem lies. There’s no way to get revenge for what happened to her. A demon killed Dad. We don’t have proof, but really – what else could have happened? Don’t you see? Quinn takes his anger over Dad’s disappearance and focuses it killing every evil thing he can find. With Mom, there was no adversary – no demon or monster to go after. There’s nowhere for the anger to go. He pushes it deep down inside where it eats at him like a cancer. Every once in a while, when the pain becomes too much, he lashes out at you.” Nathan wiped a hand over his weary eyes. “In all honesty, Jordan, I think he’s afraid he’ll lose you, too. Family means more to Quinn than anything in
this world and he’s fighting the only way he knows how to keep us together and alive.”
Nathan helped her sit up. He stretched, popping his back and neck in a way that made Jordan cringe.
“Get some sleep,” he ordered, tossing the stuffed bear playfully at her head. “We’ll ride together in my car tomorrow, roll the windows down, and rock out to some tunes.” He reached over, enveloping her in a hug. “Don’t worry about Quinn. It’ll be okay.”
Jordan felt like she’d just closed her eyes when she heard someone say her name. The bedroom was dark, but a sliver of moonlight through sheer curtains cast a soft glow over part of the room. She peered through tangled eyelashes, didn’t see anyone, and snuggled back under her comforter.
“Jordan.”
This time, she sat straight up, reaching for the silver knife under her pillow. Crap! Hers was the largest bedroom in the house – a perk for being the only girl. She stared into the part of the room that was still cloaked in night. There was a slight whisper, like paper rustling in a breeze. She wasn’t alone.
In movements as swift and precise as a panther, she rolled off the bed, dropping the knife beside her on the floor, and grabbing the pump-action shotgun loaded with silver shot from beneath the bed. Racking a shell into the chamber, she stood up, pointing it at shadows.
“Jordan, I only want to talk.”
That voice -- it sounded so familiar. However, she’d always been the type to shoot first and ask questions later. Taking aim, her finger found the trigger but before she could depress it, the gun flew from her hands, skittering across the hardwood floor.
“You won’t need that. I only want to talk.”
Jordan dropped back to the floor, scooping up the knife in a death grip. She barely got to her feet when a force drove her back against the wall. She couldn’t move. From across the room, the blackness shifted.
“Must you be so unpleasant? I won’t hurt you, but be warned: there are more of us stationed inside your house. One scream for your brothers or uncle, and things might get…messy. Do you understand?”
Jordan nodded once. “What do you want?”
Pearl-white eyes pierced the darkness. Jordan strained against the power keeping her immobile. Demons sucked worse than a pay-toilet. They were smart and cunning. Many things repelled them, including Holy water and silver, but because they possessed humans, they were hard to detect. Only their glowing eyes gave them away, and they could disguise them at will.
“Jordan, I only wanted to see you. I’ve been kept away for too long. Even now, my time here is short.”
“Who are you?”
“You may call me Aamon for now.”
Jordan knew that name. According to lore, Aamon’s specialty was reproduction and life. It was his responsibility to make sure the demon population stayed off the endangered species list.
Some demons are made. When evil people die, their souls go to Hell. If they fit the bill, they’re recruited into the fold. Other demons are born, and that’s where Aamon came into play. He possessed humans in order to spread his seed, impregnating women with his children to be collected when they were old enough. Just what she needed – a horny demon.
“Well, Aamon, I usually don’t give it up to demons unless they buy me dinner first. I guess you’re S-O-L.”
“S-O-L?”
“Shit outta luck.”
He laughed. Memories of her father swept over her like desert sand, leaving her soul parched, longing for something it couldn’t have.
“Show your face!”
The laughter subsided. “Not just yet but soon, I promise. Right now, I have more pressing matters to attend to. Come to me, child.”
As if being pulled by a magnet, her body gravitated to him, toes dragging across the cold floor. She wanted to scream for help, but to do so could mean death for her family. No, she’d have to ride this one out alone.
When she reached the shadows, he embraced her from the back, his powerful arms trapping her as securely as a strait jacket. She was facing the full-length mirror in the corner, but his features were obscured. She could barely discern their shapes in the murky light.
He whispered in her ear – a sing-song voice that saturated her mind like a drug. She didn’t want to listen, but was helpless to stop.
“Soon, very soon, you will find out who you really are, Jordan. Even now, you can feel the power coursing through your veins.”
The minute he spoke the words, a slow burn snaked through her body, pulsing with every beat of her heart.
“Do you feel it?”
“Y-yes,” she gasped.
“How does it make you feel?”
“Strong…powerful.” Waves of heat washed over her, through her. Jordan felt as if parts of her were burning away, leaving something unclean and destructive behind.
The demon held her closer. “That’s because you are strong and powerful, just like me. You’re the perfect predator.”
Her eyes began to burn. She closed them, gritting her teeth, fighting against the raw power flowing through her. “I’m nothing like you,” she snarled.
“Aren’t you? Open your eyes, Jordan. See what you really are.”
Taking a deep breath, she looked into the mirror. Her eyes glowed pearl-white.
“Flesh of my flesh, sweetheart.” The demon laughed.
Jordan screamed.
Chapter Five
“Wanna talk about it?”
Jordan was throwing a duffle bag into the back of Quinn’s Charger when he snuck up behind her, causing a small squeak to escape before she realized who it was.
“Dammit, Quinn, give me a heart attack why don’t you?”
He studied her face like some sort of lab specimen. She turned away, embarrassed. After the previous night’s excitement, she knew she looked like something from Dawn of the Dead. She certainly didn’t need him confirming it.
After her “nightmare” (yeah, that’s what everyone was calling it), she couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, she made coffee and waited for the sun to rise. A little after eight, she took Archer half a mile down the road to their neighbor, Ms. Reeves. She always looked after him and their cows when they went on jobs. She was one of only two people in town who knew about the Circle and what they did. Sheriff Briggs was the other. It was always good to have local law enforcement on your side when you break down the door of a stranger’s house in pursuit of a monster.
“Jordan?” Quinn’s voice cut through the cool morning air.
“No, I don’t want to talk about it. I already told Nathan everything.”
That wasn’t exactly true. She’d left out the part about her eyes glowing and most of what the demon said. Basically, she didn’t tell them anything, other than she thought a demon was in her room. Nathan was the first to reach her, followed closely by Quinn. Both of them burst through her bedroom door in varying degrees of undress and armed with guns. Jordan was still standing in front of the mirror, tears streaming, clutching her head as the pain in her eyes grew unbearable.
Nathan grabbed her arms, looking for injuries while Quinn secured the room. Uncle Case came puffing up the stairs shortly after.
A thin, keening sound was all she could manage for about five minutes. Nathan eventually stopped asking what was wrong and pulled her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. She kept her eyes closed the entire time.
After the pain in her eyes subsided and she was sure it was safe to let the others see them, Jordan took a tentative look around the room. Her shotgun was on the floor not far from where she was standing; proof (to her) that the whole thing hadn’t been a dream. Quinn, however wasn’t so sure.
“There’s no smell or sign of sulfur in here, Jordan. Demons always leave it behind – you know that.”
She sipped a glass of water while he rambled on. Finally, she got a word in, asking “How do you explain my gun being way over here and not under my bed? What about my knife? I keep it under my pillow every night, and you know that, Quinn!” She sto
od up, pleading with him now. “He was here. He even told me his name – Aamon.” It did no good. No matter what she said, he wouldn’t budge.
“We need to get some sleep,” Uncle Case told them. He gave Jordan a hug. “Will you be okay?”
No, she thought. She’d never be okay again.
Nathan stayed with her for a while after the others went back to bed. She told him most of what happened. Not once did he ever say he didn’t believe her. He offered to stay in her room and sleep on the floor; she refused. As exhausted as he was from the previous hunt paired with the twelve-hour drive they had ahead of them, he needed all the rest he could get.
Quinn slammed the trunk closed. “You told Nathan everything. You didn’t tell me jack-squat.”
She rounded on him. “Does it matter? You’re just disappointed it didn’t rip my head off!” She blinked tears from her eyes. “Slayers live on borrowed time. I pray to God I go before you and you’re there to see it. Maybe that will bring you some peace.”
The ride through Nebraska wasn’t too bad. Uncle Case rode shotgun with Quinn while she and Nathan cruised behind them in his Camaro. The purr of the engine and tunes blasting from the radio lifted Jordan’s spirits. They sang at the top of their lungs to Blue Oyster Cult, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Bad Company, and her favorite, Daughtry. Gabe showed up for a few minutes and joined in. Nathan had a hard time keeping the car on his side of the road when Gabe belted out Losing My Mind, especially the part about being one part angel and one part danger. Yeah, not all angels were stiff shirts.
Even stopping for gas and food, they made good time. However, the next day wasn’t near as cheerful. Quinn and Uncle Case needed a break from each other. It started the day before. Quinn complained about Case’s choice of music (“I swear, that whiny country crap’s gonna cause me to slit my own wrists!”) while Case complained about Quinn’s driving (“You won’t get a chance to slit your wrists because you’re gonna kill us both! I want to be buried in a pine box, not fused with a piece of metal sporting a 426 hemi!”), and on it went. In the end, Uncle Case jumped ship to ride with Nathan and Jordan ended up sitting as close to the door inside Quinn’s Charger as she could get. If Nathan’s back seat weren’t filled with their stuff, she would have happily listened to hours of singers lamenting about lost wives, drinking problems, and hunting dogs.