Blood of the Demon

“Shoot it!” he yelled over the shrieking of the waitress. I didn’t need the encouragement. I squeezed off three quick rounds, the sound of the shots slamming through the restaurant, setting my ears ringing. The dog-thing jerked and shrieked as at least two of the shots found their mark, but a heartbeat later it was back on its feet, snarling at the two of us. Now I could get a better look at it, but it didn’t help. It was still vaguely doglike and really fucking scary-looking.

Ryan was breathing hard. “Did you hit it?”

“Yes! Shoot it some more!”

We both lifted our guns and started shooting, but this time the demon dog was ready, twisting to evade with u

“Sonofabitch! Is it a demon?” Ryan demanded, as it appeared to shake off the effects of being shot as easily as shaking off a mosquito bite.

“Not one of the kinds I know,” I shouted, probably louder than necessary, but my ears were ringing from the shooting. “But it’s definitely other-planar.” I could see the telltale light instead of blood streaming from the wounds. I tried to remember how many rounds I’d fired. I didn’t have a spare magazine on me. I’d been going to lunch, damn it!

It launched itself at us again, in a blur of red eyes and white teeth. We both dove in opposite directions, as if we’d rehearsed it, but the dog-thing had apparently missed that particular rehearsal and twisted in midair to rake its claws at Ryan.

Ryan let out an explosive curse, then, in an act that was either incredibly courageous or incredibly stupid, grabbed the dog by its lower jaw and jammed his gun into the creature’s side, angling down and squeezing the trigger repeatedly until the slide of his gun locked back on his empty magazine. The dog-thing let out a howl of pain and rage, but a gut full of lead still didn’t seem to slow it down much. It snarled and twisted its head free of Ryan’s grasp, and I could see it poised to snap those deadly jaws onto something vital. I let out a yell and copied Ryan’s technique, jamming my gun against the creature and firing until the gun was empty. It had the desired result—at least partially. It screamed and lost interest in Ryan, turning that crimson gaze on me.

Okay, this is bad, the thought flashed through my head. I was out of bullets, and even with what had to be more than a dozen rounds in it, the thing wasn’t dead. Or, rather, it wasn’t dead enough. White light streamed from it in several places, but it didn’t look as if it would be discorporeating in the less than a second I probably had before the jaws clamped down on me. Given more time, I could possibly dismiss it back to whatever sphere it was from. But, then again, I didn’t think I’d be able to open a portal in the very short amount of time I had to work with.

Before I had a chance to enjoy the last split second of life as a whole person, another shot slammed through the room. The dog-thing’s head exploded in a burst of blue light, and then the body dropped heavily to the floor. I crabbed back, struggling to catch my breath as sparkles began to crawl over the body. A few seconds later the sparkles had completely consumed it, leaving behind nothing but a foul-smelling stain on the floor.

I looked up, past the arcane stain, then smiled weakly in relief.

“Good to see you, Agent Garner,” I said, voice only a little shaky. “That was some mighty fine shootin’, Tex.”

Zack gri

I managed a wheezing chuckle, then got to my feet and looked to Ryan. “Are you all right?”

Ryan scowled and lifted his shirt, revealing a set of rippled abs that would have been incredibly nice to gaze at for a while if not for the four parallel scores across them that were just begi

“Barely got me,” he said, tugging the shirt back down. “I’ll be fine.”

I gave him a small smile of relief, then stepped over to crouch by the stain on the floor. I stayed there for a few heartbeats, absorbing the feel of the lingering residue, then straightened.

“That’s what we felt the other day by your office,” I said to both of them.

“So it’s been stalking us for a few days,” Ryan said, expression grim.

“I think so,” I said, then looked back to Zack. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because your timing was fantastic, but what are you doing here?”

A slight smile touched his lips. “I, uh, get ‘feelings’ sometimes. I’ve learned to listen to them. And I had a feeling I needed to see what Ryan was up to.”

So Zack had a touch of clairvoyance? I had a hard time being surprised, especially since I knew that he was sensitive to the arcane. “Well, I’m quite grateful to your feelings right now.” My gaze shifted higher. “And even more grateful that your hair is no longer orange.”

He laughed and ran a hand over his head. “Yep, surfer blond again.”

Ryan’s gaze swept the restaurant, taking in the waitress cowering under a table. “We have bigger problems right now.” He jerked his head toward the back door. “Zack, check the back. There’s a busboy out there, possibly hurt.”

Zack met his eyes, a strange expression on his face. “You’ll take care of the rest?”

Ryan’s face went stony and bleak, and he gave a stiff nod. Zack slipped out the back door.

What the hell was that about?

Ryan stepped over to the table the waitress was hiding under and crouched in front of her. He placed a hand on hers and I thought he was going to help her out from under the table, but instead she went very still and quiet when her eyes met his. I watched the bizarre tableau, perplexed, as Ryan continued to hold the woman’s hand, eyes fixed on hers while a strange and terrible smile curved his lips.

After perhaps half a minute, he took a breath and looked away. The waitress blinked, then gave Ryan a smile as he gripped her hand more firmly and helped her out from under the table.

“Here you go, ma’am,” Ryan said. “The dogs are all gone now.”

The woman let out a normal chuckle that completely u

“It was no trouble,” Ryan replied, giving her a charming smile. His eyes flicked to me and he gave a slight motion of his head toward the door. I glanced over to see Zack coming back inside.

“Ryan, the boy was bitten, but he’ll be all right.” He gave Ryan the strange look again. “You’ll see to him?”

Ryan’s face could have been carved from iron. He didn’t nod, just stepped past Zack and walked outside, returning less than a minute later supporting a limping Tommy. “Ya gotta be careful of those feral dogs, kid. You never know when one might take a snap at you.” He eased the boy down to a chair. “You go

The boy bit his lip, clearly doing everything he could to be manly and not cry about the wound in his leg. It wasn’t gaping or anything, but it was big, and I knew that the kid was going to need some serious stitching. How anyone could think that a stray dog with a normal-size jaw had made that injury was beyond me.

But at the moment there were many things that I felt I wasn’t quite grasping.

“Ryan—” I began.

He jerked his hand up in a keep quiet gesture, eyes unfocused. I wanted to shriek, but I forced myself to hold it in. About a dozen heartbeats later, he blinked and looked back at Zack.

“Okay, the cook is the only other one in the place, and he wears an iPod turned up loud enough to drown out a nuclear explosion.” He scrubbed at his face, hand shaking slightly, then his eyes met mine. “Some stray dogs got in the back door and caused a big mess. That’s … that’s what they remember.”

I could only stare at him for several heartbeats. “What did you just do?” It came out much more calmly than I had expected.