Страница 67 из 74
I hadn’t thought of that. Which was why he was the demon hunter and I was the one being hunted by the demon.
We left the apartment, and Chavez glanced at the security camera on the wall.
“We may as well call the police,” I muttered. “They’ll be calling me soon enough.”
“I checked it when we came in. The light’s not on. Whoever was here before us disabled the camera.”
“That was nice of him. I think.”
“I doubt nice had anything to do with it.” Chavez headed for the service entrance. “This demon’s a lot smarter than most.”
“Are they usually stupid?”
“No. But they’re not exactly savvy with the ways of the world. Kind of like a bull in a china shop—flailing around, obsessed with getting whatever it is they came here for. They don’t worry about security cameras, police, or demon hunters. They think they’re invincible.”
“But they aren’t.”
“Not invincible, no, but hard to kill. Only one, maybe two, methods will work, and the trick is to figure out what before the thing kills you.”
The trill of excitement returned. Life and death. Good versus evil. The stuff of really great books—and Chavez was living it. Too bad I might be dying from it.
“You must be very good at your job,” I said.
“I’m the best.”
“How did I get so lucky?”
Chavez checked the alley, then motioned for me to follow him. “Lucky?”
“How did you find me?” I paused. “Actually, I guess you found Eric. Is there a demon hunter hotline?”
“No.”
He didn’t elaborate, just stalked off so fast I had to move double time on my short legs to catch up. His face, when I reached him, was stonelike, unwelcoming. Wrong question, I guess, so I tried another.
“Are there a lot of demon hunters? You have a club or something?”
The look he shot my way would have scared me several hours ago. Now it intrigued me. There was a whole world out here I’d never known about. No one did.
“Rogue means I don’t play well with others,” he said. “I don’t like rules.”
“There are rules?”
“I’ve heard there’s a society of monster hunters. Had a few approach me about a demon-hunting unit. I guess they’ve got government funding.”
“The U.S. government?”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?”
“After being kissed by a dead man dating, not really.”
“Fu
“I wouldn’t call it fu
“Even though getting paid would be nice—” he began.
“You don’t get paid?”
“Chica,” he said with infinite patience, “who would pay me?”
“How do you live?”
“Very carefully.” At my frown, he lifted one hand. “I do odd jobs for cash.”
Cash?
“Are you an illegal alien?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. “Wouldn’t it be easier to get paid for what you’re already doing for free?”
“The money would be nice,” he repeated, “but the government would want to know where I’m from. How I got here. What I’ve been up to for half my life. I don’t want to tell them. And I don’t like being told what to do. I ask no one’s permission. I never will. I eliminate evil from this world no matter the cost.”
“Sounds like a good policy to me.”
“I doubt you’d think so if you were part of that cost.”
I stopped and stared at him. “You’d sacrifice an i
He kept walking, but his answer drifted back on the early morning breeze.
“I’d sacrifice anything and anyone.”
6
So much for any dreams I might have had about Chavez and me. Not that I’d been having any. I wasn’t that stupid. But I had felt safe with him. Until he’d admitted he’d toss me over a cliff to rid the world of one more demon.
Well, he hadn’t actually said that but I could read between the lines pretty well. Occupational hazard.
“Mind if I use the computer again?” Chavez asked when we returned to my apartment.
The place smelled wet. I opened a window, lit a candle, turned up the heat.
“Go ahead.” I yanked the newspaper out of my mail drop.
“I want to find out who that second guy was.”
“I don’t think you need to.”
I turned the paper in his direction. The face of the man Chavez had lit on fire last night was all over the front page.
He appeared to be missing. Or at least his body was.
“Malcolm Ta
“Would you date one?”
“I didn’t date Malcolm.”
“True. You didn’t even know him. Which might be the point.”
“You lost me.”
“If he picked people you knew, sooner or later the police would be knocking on your door. But random guys? Hard to co
“Why bother setting up a date in the first place? Malcolm just popped in here, uninvited.”
“Some demons need to be invited in first.”
“Like a vampire?”
“Now you’re catching on.”
“But Malcolm—”
“—was the same demon as Eric, just a different body.”
“So since I invited Eric—”
“Malcolm could enter.”
“How do you know this stuff?” I asked. “Is there a www.demonology.com?”
“No. What I’ve learned is mostly by trial and error.” He lifted one shoulder. “A little half-assed, but all I’ve got.”
“You’ve tried salt, fire, silver. What’s next?”
“Holy water, the Hail Mary, the Lord’s Prayer, sacramental wine, the host.”
“I’m seeing a pattern.”
“Christian symbols.” He sighed. “The problem is, there are a lot of demons that aren’t Christian in origin and some that predate Christianity.”
Since I’d studied plenty of ancient civilizations, I was aware of this. Still, the idea that something could predate time as we marked it had always creeped me out. Probably an American phobia. In countries that had been around for a few gazillion mille
“How can you kill something so ancient?” I wondered aloud.
“It ain’t easy.”
My gaze was drawn to his earring. “If Christian symbols don’t work, then what’s with that?”
“I didn’t say they don’t work. They do. More than most.” He fingered the cross in his earlobe. “Every little bit helps.”
“What can I do?”
“Any good at research?”
“Actually, yes.”
Research was what had brought me to my major. I loved looking things up, finding answers to questions only I cared about.
His gaze traveled from the tip of my overly curly hair, past my black-rimmed glasses, to the ample breasts and hips ensconced in an oversized sweatshirt and equally oversized jeans.
“I’ve always had a thing for librarians,” he murmured. “They’re so…helpful.”
Considering his face, that hair, the body, I just bet they were.
“I’m not a librarian,” I said stiffly.
“We could pretend.”
I stared at him for several seconds. Was he trying to make a joke? It was hard to tell when he never cracked a smile.
Chavez turned away, and the strange, charged moment was gone. “I’m going for supplies before it gets dark.”
“What supplies?”
“Holy water, host—”
“Where do you get stuff like that? At the discount holy water and host shop?”
“A church.”
“They give it out because you ask?”
“Because I ask, yes.”
My skepticism must have shown on my face because he continued. “Priests believe in evil, Kit. If they didn’t they wouldn’t have a job. They’ve seen amazing things—great good and great bad.”
“And you? Do you ever see any good?”
His eyes met mine. “Not until just lately.”
“What’d I do?”
“You chased me out of the alley. You wouldn’t stop questioning me. You weren’t afraid to stand up to the insane man you believed had shot your date.”