Chapter Forty-Two
Vicki scrambled to her feet and pulled the gun from her pants pocket. Holding the weapon in her hands brought a sense of security, but she backed away from River’s partner a few steps for good measure. Even if the circle of salt worked, there was no sense remaining within arm’s reach.
River removed a folded paper from the backpack.
She shifted in his direction. “What’s that?”
“Another gift from Lenny.”
“And the next symbol from my vision.”
He looked at the white paper in his hand and frowned. “Yeah, well….” After tucking the item into his jacket pocket, he moved to join her, but his sharp intake of breath indicated the severe pain the simple act of standing induced. With a swipe of his hand, he erased the beads of sweat dotting his brow.
In the distance, thunder growled, growing ever closer. The bright moonlight dimmed as a strand of clouds drifted across the bottom of the glowing orb. Vicki shook her head. This was not the time to lose what little light was available.
“Weather could be a problem where the salt is concerned.” River looked toward Dauscher. “Rain hits and the circle will be gone.”
She stared at the white granules ringing the large detective. Such a fragile defense. A gust of air, a splash of rain, and the evil being they’d trapped would be free. Memories of how Kent had lifted her from the floor by her hair and hurled her against the wall like some child’s rag doll swept through her mind. Fear and doubt ate at her confidence. Great. Our lives depend on a line of salt. “He takes a step toward us, and I’m pulling the trigger.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.” He removed the bulky black gun from his shoulder holster and released the magazine. “I’d rather we get Kent out, send him to Hell where he belongs, and save Dauscher. I’m just not sure it’s possible.” He shoved the magazine back into the weapon, the metal catch emitting a sharp click as it locked into place. “After what happened the last time? If it comes to it, don’t hesitate. Take him down.”
“Right.” She looked at Dauscher, noting that even with his initial movements, he hadn’t touched the ring. Good.
“So.” River lowered the gun to his side, the barrel pointing toward the ground. “Why do you think he didn’t just grab us up, throw us around the beach like he did at the house?”
“You’re asking me?” She turned toward him, her eyebrow arched.
“Hey, you’re the one having visions. Not me.”
“And that makes me an expert?”
“More than me.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t see things in my head about other people.”
“So, you believe me.” She tilted her head. Is he being sincere or trying to distract me so I won’t be afraid? “When did you change your mind exactly?”
“Darlin’,” he said, his Texan drawl pulling at the word. “With all that’s happened since the moment we met, how could I not believe you?”
She nodded. He gave credence to her visions. Wow, talk about taking a step on the wild side. If we manage to survive this crazy ordeal, we might just have a shot at a something special—even if he hasn’t told me he loves me. Yet. She shifted her focus back to the killer. “Well, while I was patching you up, I was thinking about why he didn’t just kill us when he had the chance.”
“Really?” Surprise flashed across his face.
“Only thing I can come up with is that your dead ex-partner, Kent, hasn’t been in Dauscher’s body long enough. He hasn’t killed anyone yet. Could be the more sacrifices he makes, the stronger he gets.” A shiver rippled down her back. “It’s just speculation, though. Lenny’s the real expert when it comes to demons.”
“That might be true. But your theory makes sense.” His gaze shifted to the woods beyond her. “When Kent was in Jamie, he’d killed three women by the time we came across him in the waitress’ house.”
Vicki swallowed. “And those are just the ones we know about.”
“True.” Worry and guilt flooded his face, and he looked at the ground. When he raised his head, his brow had drawn down and determination pervaded his features.
Vicki’s breath caught at movement from within the ring. Pivoting, she found Dauscher in a sitting position…staring up at her. A hint of black, oily substance swirled in the corner of his left eye, but when he blinked, it disappeared.
Her mouth went dry. She’d glimpsed the evil that possessed Detective Dauscher. The thing calling itself Kent Rowton, the Valentine Killer.
Kent rose to his feet, and she stumbled back a step. Her encounter with Jamie had been straight from a nightmare. And he’d been thin, wiry then. But this guy, the one with demon hellfire blazing in his eyes? He was freaking huge.
Vicki raised the gun, pointing it at the demon. Fingers clamped around the pistol’s grip, she gave River a quick glance. What now?
He trained his gun on his partner.
A smirk on his face, Kent lumbered forward two steps and stopped. He looked down, his gaze briefly following the salt line. A low growl rumbled in his throat.
Hope and amazement fluttered within Vicki’s chest. Was Lenny right? Did the salt circle trap the demon?
Lifting his head, Kent focused on River this time. Amusement danced in his eyes. “So, that’s twice you’ve sucker punched me.”
“Yep.” River shifted his weight.
The killer lunged toward him, his foot stopping short of the circle.
River jerked but held his ground, and Vicki’s heart jackhammered against her sternum.
“You can’t keep me here forever.” The maniac’s mouth twisted into a self-righteous smirk, and he turned to stalk the circle like a caged panther. The feral glimmer in his eyes engendered Vicki’s skin to crawl.
River leaned toward her. “He’s got a point.”
“Of course I do.” He strode to the edge of the circle and threw his arms wide. “So, go ahead. Kill me. Put me and your pussy partner out of our collective misery. The way he goes on and on, pissing about everything. I have no idea how you deal with such a whiny bitch. So, do everyone a favor and just pull the trigger, River.”
Vicki’s stomach boiled with fury. The bastard wants River to kill Dauscher. “I’d pull the trigger myself, you evil sonovabitch. But you’d just slither into someone else.”
Kent turned his attention on her, and icy spikes hammered down her spine. Oh, crap. Talk about waking a sleeping dragon.
“Ah. Blondie’s smarter than she looks.” His gaze raked her body from head to toe, and he licked his lips. “Mmm. I could slither into you, sweet cheeks. You and I could have a real good time.”
Disgust rolled over her, cold and slimy. “You wish.”
“Leave her out of this.” River drew the demon’s attention. “This is between you and me.”
Kent eyed him. “You don’t like the idea of me and your prissy girlfriend hanging out together, swapping stories? Just think, we could have one hell of a threesome.”
Murder glinted in River’s eyes. But instead of pulling the trigger, he reached inside his jacket pocket and extracted the piece of paper.
Lightning flashed on the horizon. Thunder rumbled over the marsh.
“What’s that?” Kent snorted. “You write me a love letter?”
River unfolded the paper and read aloud, the words coming slow and jerky. Vicki stared at the second symbol she’d seen in her vision. She opened her mouth to warn him but stopped. He knows what he’s doing.
Kent’s eyes rolled up into their sockets, his mouth warped into a grimace. He threw his head back and screamed, a piercing preternatural shriek of pain.
The wicked sound drove into her core. Hot fear grabbed her throat, choked the breath from her. Prickles shot down her arms, across her back, followed by a bone-rattling shudder. Every ounce of her being screamed for her to run, to escape, but she remained immobile, fought the panic threatening to overwhelm her. I can’t bail. If I do, the demon will track me down, and the nightmare will start over again. No. We need to finish this. Seizing what determination she had left, she forced her feet to root her to the ground.
Undaunted, River continued to read. He’d found a cadence to the words, and his voice rang clear and strong on the cool air.
Kent clutched his abdomen, doubled over. A growl of agony came from the demon, and the body he possessed shook. He gasped for breath. Moaned and twitched. Uttered unintelligible sounds.
Laughed.
River stopped reading. Through narrowed eyes, he stared at the form cringing half a dozen feet away. The hunched-over body quaked with laughter.
Straightening, Kent wiped away a mirthful tear with the back of his hand. Insidious glee danced across his face, his eyes dark and ominous. “Really, River?”
“What?” He raised his gun, pointing it at Kent’s head.
“You’ve sunk to exorcism to get rid of me?” He lifted his hands to his chest in a mock gesture of insult.
“Yeah.”
“A circle of salt, an exorcism. I’m guessing you have some holy water in your bag of tricks as well?”
“Maybe.” His jaw clenched, but he kept his eyes focused on Kent. “Why? You thirsty?”
The asshole chuckled, shook his head. “It won’t work. None of it. Your information’s bad.”
Anger flamed in his gut. The son of a bitch is lying. Another trick. River took a step forward, tilted his head, and lined up the Glock’s sights, drawing a tighter bead on the man before him. “What do you mean? Why won’t it work?”
Kent rolled a shoulder, the act resembling the dismissal of a fly. “I’m not a demon.”
“What?”
“I know. As powerful and amazing as I am, it’s difficult to believe I’m not demonic. But, Riv, seriously, you need to get your facts straight. Thurisaz, the god I make all these sacrifices to? He’s a demon. Me?” He gestured toward himself and grinned. “I’m a soul.”
Well, hell.
“Invincible and god-like but with none of the messy strings attached.” Kent looked up and to the left. “Really more like a soul-traveler to be more exact.”
“More like a soul-parasite.” Vicki’s lips curled in disgust. “To be more exact.”
Kent shifted his focus, his eyes filled with fury and lust. “I’ll get to you soon enough, Blondie.”
The implication of his words triggered a round of dread to ricochet through River. He moved to her side. “Gotta deal with me first, Kent. I’m at the head of the line.”
With a shrug, the guy sauntered to the edge of the circle, held his arms out to the sides. “Fine with me.”
River touched Vicki’s arm, urged her behind him.
“That’s not going to save her. She can’t run, can’t hide.” He grinned, his features suffused with malevolent delight. “I’m going to rip you apart, partner. Drink your blood. Bathe in it. Then I’ll find your little blonde sex toy. Yeah. The fun we’ll have. I’ll take my time—”
“Shut up!” Rage rolled through River, filled him up, consumed him from the inside out. The images Kent described assaulted his mind. He could see it—imagine every repulsive detail in vivid color—and it all but drove him over the edge. He pressed his finger against the smooth, metal trigger, every ounce of his being demanding he do whatever it took to stop the bastard from fulfilling his threat.
“Oh my God,” Vicki said, her breathy words filled with horror. “River, look down.”
He glanced at the circle, and air jammed in his throat.
Kent had stepped across the line of salt.
She tugged River backward over the sand. “I thought Lenny said he couldn't cross a line of salt.”
“He did. One of us must have kicked it and broken the ring.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “Or….”
“What?”
“We are in a salt marsh.”
With a murderous growl, Kent lunged and drove his shoulder into River’s gut. The evil bastard might not have been at full potential, but he sure as hell moved faster than River could react. Caught off guard, he jolted, pulled the trigger. The explosive report hammered his eardrums as the weapon recoiled in his grip, the shot flying wild.
He fell back, his elbow connecting with Vicki on the way down. A strangled yelp erupted from her throat as she skidded headlong to the ground.
River slammed onto the sand, Kent crashing on top of him, meaty fingers clawing for his throat. The weight of his assailant knocked the breath from his lungs, and the impact dislodged the gun from his hand. His pistol flew into the air, tumbled over the sand, and came to rest well out of reach.
Kent’s full weight pressed down, and River struggled to breathe. His efforts produced a wet, gurgling noise and minimal air to his lungs. He shoved his ex-partner, pounded his fists into his ribs, but the man’s thumbs bore down on his windpipe with crushing intensity. The edges of his vision darkened.
His legs seemed to fill with lead, becoming too heavy to move. His arms weakened, and he could no longer ball his hands into fists. With sheer determination, he continued to pummel Kent, his palms slapping against him with no effect.
Panic spiraled through him. Icy tendrils of dread curled into his brain and sent the world spinning. He focused on the madman’s eyes. Son of a bitch. How did the man who was my partner and best friend become a demon-worshipping psychotic killer? Who makes a choice like that?
River’s body convulsed, a last struggle for the oxygen it required. Just a second or two left. I’m dead. Vicki’s alone with this maniac.
A high-pitched keening filled the air. He blinked, his lids drifting closed. When he opened his eyes, stars twinkled in a black velvet sky…and cold air rushed over his bruised larynx and into his lungs.
Oh, shit! He gulped down the sweet, life-giving oxygen, choked, and inhaled again. But Kent? He glanced to his left, his terror renewed.
Kent and Vicki wrestled in the sand.
“You bastard!” She clawed at his face, caught his cheek. Four long gashes welled with blood.
Kent laughed. The full moon glittered in his eyes, revealing his utter enjoyment. “You think you really knocked me off your lover boy?” He grabbed her tight then rolled over, pinning her beneath him. “Sweetie, I’ve been waiting all night to get you under me.” He ground his hips against her pelvis.
“No!” She screamed and slapped at him, her nails slashing at his arms and hands.
“That’s it, bitch. Fight me.” He yanked open her jacket. With a triumphant growl, he clutched her breasts, dug his fingers into them. Vicki’s pain-filled wails echoed through the small alcove, and he grinned, his face awash in malevolent pleasure. Kent yanked his belt off, unzipped his pants. “I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”
River shoved himself to his knees, each breath of air renewing him. He scanned the area in search of his weapon. A single shot can end this.
A glint of metal caught his eye, and he scrambled on all fours across the sand. When he curled his fingers around the cool metal, satisfaction filled his veins. Rising to his feet, he stumbled toward Kent and Vicki.
“Get off!” She kicked, struggled against the bastard, but he outweighed her by a good hundred pounds.
“Let’s see what you have to offer.” He reached down and ripped her shirt open, leaving her creamy skin exposed to the frigid night air. Clutching her hands above her head, he leaned over, inhaling her scent. When he ran his tongue down her neck, she let out an anguished whimper.
River raised the gun.
“I’ve been thinking.” Kent gazed down at Vicki. “When River kills me—because he will kill me—I’ll take his body. You’d like it. His stiff cock, pumping you hard and fast. Wouldn’t you?”
Shit. River lowered the gun, shoved it into his shoulder holster. Tugging his belt off, he twisted the ends around his hands. Timing is everything.
He crept up behind Kent. The bastard knows I’m here. Expects it. Wants me to kill him.
And the rage pumping through River’s veins demanded exactly that. He leaned forward, the belt taut in his grasp. He just wouldn’t commit the act of violence Kent hoped for.
Looping the belt around his partner’s neck, he yanked. “Polo, you sonovabitch.”