Ruby Shadows, Page 2

  “Don’t be silly,” I told them. “I’ve got this.” I could tell Grams was tired and ready for bed but she can never rest completely easy when there are guests in the house. She always feels like she needs to be offering them a big glass of sweet tea or cooking them her special gumbo or something like that.

  True to form, she opened her mouth and asked if either of the girls wanted anything before they left.

  “I’ve had enough. More than enough.” Addison giggled and pointed to one of the empty wine bottles. “Corbin will probably get tipsy if he even takes a sip from me tonight.”

  “Good thing you’ve got a designated driver, then,” Taylor said. She turned to my Grams. “I don’t want anything to drink but would it be possible to get one of those delicious homemade dill pickles of yours?”

  “More than one,” Grams said smiling. She didn’t let Taylor leave until she’d packed her up with a whole bag of her homemade pickles. The mason jars she always uses for canning clinked together as she handed the bag over.

  “Oh, thank you!” Taylor was ecstatic—she can’t get enough of my Grams’ pickles. They were one of the very first things she ate after the prophesy allowed her to start consuming human food again and ever since, she’s hooked.

  I hugged both girls and we made promises to see each other again soon. But before they left, Taylor whispered in my ear,

  “All clear so far?”

  I knew what she meant. She’d overheard my last conversation with Laish. The one where he was yelling at me and warning me that if I hadn’t closed that door into the Abyss, I was going to have trouble. Taylor felt personally responsible because she was the one I’d gone to save. I’d broken all kinds of Celestial rules when I snatched her from the edge of the pit and supposedly, I was going to have to pay the price. But so far, other than the bad dreams about the thing with no head and long, yellow teeth, I was fine.

  “All clear,” I told her, not mentioning the dreams. No point in freaking her out over something that was probably just a product of my own guilty conscience, right?

  Taylor looked relieved. “Good. Let me know if that changes.”

  “I will,” I promised although there was nothing she could do if it did change. “Now you two had better get going—it smells like it’s going to rain.” I glanced anxiously at the murky black sky revealed outside Grams’ trim front door. The scent of ozone was heavy in the humid night breeze, making me shiver.

  “Not just rain—it’s about to be a monsoon.” Grams put a hand to her back. “My spine is aching like the devil’s using it for his own private xylophone. Arthritis never lies—it’s gonna go a gusher pretty soon.”

  “We’d better go for real then.” Addison gave a little wave and Taylor pulled me in for one more quick hug.

  “Be safe,” she whispered and then they hurried off into the damp Tampa night.

  I went back inside and began cleaning up the remains of our little party. But as I was picking up the living room, I found a little scrap of something dried and black hidden under the couch. It was a tiny piece of demon’s breath—the black flower with a blood red spot in its center that only grows in the Shadow Lands—Hell’s front doorstep.

  I sank down on the couch and contemplated the little scrap. Laish had given it to me the fateful night I had worked the spell to free Taylor from her blood bond with Victor. That had been a big misunderstanding and their bond was back now and stronger than ever. But it wasn’t their bond or the ceremony I had worked that I was thinking of. No, what I was thinking of was the way I had “paid” Laish for the sprig of demon’s breath he had given me.

  Remember I said that nothing is for free when it comes to demons? Well, it’s not. Laish had demanded a kiss—one single kiss—that was all. It had seemed a simple enough payment at the time. I was sure it wouldn’t affect me. And yet somehow when he had taken my face gently but possessively between his hands and pressed his mouth to mine, I felt like I was melting and burning at the same time. My body started trembling, my heart was knocking against my ribs like it was looking for a way out, and my knees got so weak I could hardly stand.

  All that from just one kiss.

  The worst thing was, Laish knew how he was affecting me. I could see it in those damn bewitching ruby eyes of his—could read it in that self-satisfied, arrogant smirk he had on his face when he finally let me go. I had wanted to wipe that smirk off his face with my fist…and at the same time I had wanted in the worst way to grab him and kiss him again. Kiss him and more, so much more…

  “It’s late, Gwendolyn. You going to turn in for the night?” Grams asked me.

  I jumped guiltily and shoved the scrap of demon’s breath into my jeans pocket. “Yeah, Grams, in a minute,” I muttered.

  Look at you, I lectured myself, getting off the couch to finish my cleaning. Getting all hot and bothered over a demon. A minor demon at that. He’s not worth it, Gwendolyn. Pretty to look at but he’s got no soul.

  Which was true. You can’t form a love bond with a soulless demon—not that you’d want to in the first place. And not that I would ever see Laish again. I’d told him to stay away from me the last time I saw him and he’d finally taken the hint. I didn’t miss him a bit—so why couldn’t I stop thinking about him?

  “Well, I’d better get these old bones to bed. Hope it’s not too damp in there,” I heard Grams murmur.

  I knew what she meant at once—outside the rain was pouring down in a solid sheet of water. Which wouldn’t be a problem except Grams’ bedroom had a small leak in the far side of the ceiling. It’s not a huge leak—more of a drip, really, and we were going to get it fixed as soon as we had a little more money. But the extra dampness in the room made Grams’ arthritis so much worse she could hardly sleep in there on rainy nights.

  “Let’s trade bedrooms for tonight,” I told her.

  She shook her head. “Oh no, Gwendolyn, honey—I don’t want to kick you out of your own bed.”

  “Don’t be silly.” I hugged her. “I don’t mind the damp and my room is snug and dry. You know you can’t sleep in that other room when it’s raining. I don’t know why you don’t just trade with me for good.”

  Grams harrumphed. “I like my room. Been sleeping there since we bought this place. I hate to let a little weather kick me out.”

  “Grams, you’re as stubborn as a mule.” I kissed her cheek affectionately. “Come on, let’s go to bed. You in my room and me in yours.”

  “You’re a good girl, Gwendolyn.” She patted my cheek gently and looked into my eyes. “You really are.”

  I had to suppress the urge to look away guiltily. If Grams knew what I had really been up to—dabbling in black magic, calling up demons from the pit, snatching souls from the very lip of the Abyss—she wouldn’t be so quick to say I was good. But I had managed to keep all that from her so far and I intended to continue to keep it a secret for as long as I could. Hopefully forever.

  “Love you, Grams,” I told her. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

  “Sounds good to me.” She sighed. “Let me just get my C-pap machine so I can sleep easy.”

  “You mean your Darth Vader mask?” I made a face. The bulky contraption helped Grams with her sleep apnea but it certainly wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at. The noise it made and the way it fit over her face really reminded me of the Star Wars baddie.

  “Very funny, young lady.” Grams shook a finger at me. “See if you can sleep without help when you get to be my age. Then we’ll talk.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” I waved off her mock severity. “Okay, get your machine and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She headed off to get it, still harrumphing, and I went to my own room to get a t-shirt to wear to bed. Some nights I preferred PJs but it had been really hot in Tampa lately and our little AC unit could only do so much. So I would be sleeping light tonight.

  I just hoped I would be sleeping sound as well. If I had another one of those freaky dreams… I shuttered and pushed th
e thought away. I’m going to be fine and get a good night’s sleep, I told myself.

  I had never been more wrong in my life.

  Chapter Two

  Gwendolyn

  A creaking sound woke me up in the middle of the night.

  I sat bolt upright in the blackness, my eyes wide open, my heart pounding. I’d been having the dream again—about the headless thing coming to get me. If I closed my eyes I could still see those gaping jaws and the long yellow teeth, hungry for my flesh.

  Or no, not my flesh—my soul—I suddenly realized. For the thing in my dream, the physical part of me—my body—would be nothing but an appetizer. It was the immortal part the headless thing was after and it would stop at nothing to get it.

  Stop this foolishness, I lectured myself uneasily. It’s just a dream and that creaking sound was probably just the house settling.

  It was a plausible enough explanation. Grams’ little bungalow had been built back in the nineteen twenties. It had been modernized with central heat and air because you can’t live in Tampa without AC—not unless you don’t mind dying of heat stroke—but it was still old and old houses make noises. Besides, I reminded myself uneasily, Grams had white magic wards all around the house, protecting every door and window. Even if the creaking sound was something awful coming for me, it would never be able to pass through her charms to get at me.

  The thought calmed my nerves somewhat and I was just settling back in the bed and pulling the covers up to my chin when I heard the creaking again. This time it was coming from right underneath the bed.

  I gasped and sat up again. Something’s not right. What’s going on? Wards around the house or no wards, my heart was suddenly pounding and I wanted to run. I was sleeping in just my t-shirt and panties and I was just about to swing my bare legs over the side of the bed and make a dash for it when I had a horrible mental image. What if the thing with no head grabbed me by the ankles and yanked me under the bed?

  I pulled my legs back up abruptly, feeling sick with fear. What was happening? Every sense I had—both physical and supernatural—was on high alert. This creaking wasn’t simply the house settling—I was under attack. But who—?

  Before I could finish the question, there was another creak—a horribly loud one this time—and the entire bed shifted.

  That was it. I was getting up out of there. I stood up on the bed, intending to take a flying leap for the door of the bedroom. But just as I was poised to jump, there was a fourth creak that was more like a roar. The bed shook violently and suddenly I found myself falling. Or rather, the entire bed was falling.

  I didn’t understand what had happened at first. All I knew was that I was suddenly flat on my back and the room had just gotten a whole lot darker.

  I scrambled to my feet and stood on my tiptoes, trying to see what had happened. From the faint light coming from behind the window shade, I could tell that everything had shifted. For some reason, the floor was now at eye-level. I could see Grams’ furry house shoes, which I had bought her last Christmas to keep her feet warm, right in front of me. They had been by the side of the bed earlier but now I would have to reach up to grab one.

  I brushed against a wall which hadn’t been there before and the smell of fresh dirt hit my nose. A clod of soil broke off and fell onto the clean white sheets, scattering filth all over.

  My first thought was that Grams would have my hide—she’s very big on cleanliness, especially when it comes to not sleeping in a dirty bed. The second thought was, how in the hell had a dirt wall suddenly grown up between me and the bedroom around me. And why had everything shifted?

  “Grams?” I shouted without much hope. “Grams, can you hear me?” The crash the bed had made would have woken anyone else but that damn C-pap machine she wore at night made so much noise it drowned out everything else. She often said the second coming could happen and she wouldn’t notice it over the sound it made.

  I called again but I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t appear. I would have to get myself out of this mess.

  The moon must have come out from behind a cloud outside because suddenly the light in the room got brighter. I looked around and finally understood. Grams’ big four poster bed with its homemade quilts and too-soft pillows had somehow sunk down through the solid oak flooring. It was like a sink hole had opened just beneath it which probably explained the wood creaking just before it happened.

  Just then I felt the bed shifting under me again. I screamed and grabbed desperately for the lip of the hole I was in. Then the bed disappeared entirely, sucked away down into the ever deepening hole. I was left hanging there by my hands with my feet swinging down into the darkness.

  Oh my God, I have to get out of here! Have to get away from this room before the hole gets bigger or something else happens.

  What that something else might be, I didn’t want to imagine. I felt sick with fear but I forced myself to get going.

  I gripped the broken boards, ignoring the pain as splinters dug into my fingertips and tried to dig into the dirt wall with the tips of my toes. It was surprisingly hard, though, and wouldn’t give much. So much for that.

  Next I tried heaving myself up with my hands but it wasn’t easy. I did my fair share of cardio at the gym but I never hit the weights the way I knew I should. Now I might pay for my poor upper body strength with my life.

  “Come…on…Gwendolyn,” I grunted to myself as I heaved upwards. “Get…your ass…moving.” Nothing like a little positive self-talk to motivate you, right?

  I was doing pretty well and had managed to haul myself up until I had my elbows on the lip of the crumbling hole. I was about to swing one leg up and out and get the hell away from the sink hole that had suddenly and magically appeared under Gram’s bed when that something else I’d been trying not to think about or imagine happened.

  Something grabbed my ankle.

  Something long and slimy—it felt like a tentacle…no, a tentacle would be cold and clammy but this was horribly hot. It was a tongue, I suddenly realized. And I could just imagine the mouth a tongue like that would come out of—it would be vast and black and full of sharp yellow teeth.

  I screamed breathlessly for Grams as I scrambled to get away. Still she didn’t come, but whatever was holding me eased its grip just a little bit—as though maybe it had been scared by my shout.

  I pulled harder, feeling the hot, slimy thing slip slowly away from my ankle. I was going to make it—I had to make it out of the pit. Grimly, I pulled upward, my heart pounding, my head spinning. I was so scared I felt lightheaded—like I might faint at any moment. But if I did that, I might as well be signing my own death warrant. I held on to conciseness as tightly as I held on to the lip of the hole.

  In the back of my panicked brain I was thinking that I ought to say a spell or work a charm but the magic I do is so much more than words. Most of it is wrapped up in ritual and incantation. It’s kind of hard to work a protection spell which requires all kinds of paraphernalia when you’re hanging on for dear life and trying not to fall into the jaws of a waiting monster. I did mutter a prayer to the Goddess for protection but I doubt she heard me. After all, I hadn’t exactly been working the whitest magic lately.

  I was making progress, feeling the thing slip away inch by inch as I clawed my way out of the hole…

  And then, as though it had just been toying with me, the slimy tongue-tentacle tightened its grip and gave a mighty heave, like a fisherman reeling in a big one.

  Oh my God! I was dragged backwards, my fingernails full of splinters as I clawed desperately to get out of the hole. No…no, no, no! I was in full panic mode now, my heart pounding out of my chest, my body locked into a flight-or-fight response. I screamed for Grams again but of course she didn’t come. She was probably still peacefully asleep and when she woke up, she’d come into her room and see a massive hole going down and down and nothing else because I’d already be digesting in the belly of the beast. First it would eat my body…and then
my soul.

  “NO!” I screamed, kicking out at the thing. Which didn’t help a damn bit—it just tightened its hold on me and pulled harder. Clearly it had just been toying with me before but now playtime was over and I was about to be lunch. Or a midnight snack—whichever.

  Your mind goes through weird thoughts at a time like this and all mine came up with was this: I can’t go now, not like this. I can’t…I can’t. I don’t want to die a virgin!

  The minute the thought popped into my head I knew exactly what I had to do—who I had to call. I had sworn never to see him again but this was definitely an extenuating circumstance. I just hoped he wasn’t too pissed at me to answer.

  “Laish!” I gasped aloud, still kicking at the ever tightening tongue-tacle. “Laish, please—I know I said to leave me alone but please—I’m in trouble. Please, hellllll…”

  The last word was a scream because the thing below me gave one last mighty yank on my ankle and I lost my tenuous grip on the lip of the hole. With a shriek, I went plummeting down into the hole, heading straight into its gaping mouth.

  Chapter Three

  Laish

  I stared in irritation out of the window of the mansion I kept as a place to stay in the Mortal Realm. It was a vast stone structure located on Siesta Key, just outside of Sarasota, Florida. There was a view of my private beach with its pristine white sands. They were some of the most beautiful this realm had to offer and I ought to know—I’d been sitting here for hours, staring at them. The sunset had been particularly breathtaking that evening—all purples and oranges and golds with a fair bit of fiery red at the end which reminded me of my other, more permanent residence.

  Which is where I ought to be now, I thought, drumming my fingers on the windowsill. I should sever all ties from this place and attend to other business. And yet, here I still was.

  The question was why? The little witch had banished me from her presence over a month ago—so why was I still here?