Part 29 (1/2)

”Yeah. Thanks for shar...” About halfway through the deck, he froze. ”Holy c.r.a.p. I don't think that's possible!”

Henry leaned around Jack's shoulder for a look. ”It's possible, but the second woman has to be very flexible. And his back's going to ache afterward.”

Jack stepped away, turned, and stared at the other man. ”How the h.e.l.l old are you, anyway?”

”Older than I look.”

”Let's hope so.” If he'd been asked an hour ago, he'd have said the guy was Tony's age, early twenties, maybe a couple of years older. Now, he wasn't so sure. There was something strange about him, something more than just being a.s.s-deep into the weird s.h.i.+t that went with having a wizard for an ex. Maybe it was the whole romance writer thing-that was definitely a little creepy. Maybe he'd researched exotic positions for one of his books. More comforting a thought than the possibility he'd spent his teens as a p.o.r.nographic gymnast. Jack sighed. ”You play rummy?”

”Penny a point?”

Because he'd noticed that the queen of hearts was unnaturally worn-noticed and then refused to think why-Jack was up forty- two dollars when Henry stiffened and dropped his cards.

”What is it?” d.a.m.n if it didn't look like the guy was sniffing the air.

”Something's coming.”

”Something?” Jack tossed his cards aside and stood, pulling his weapon from his shoulder holster. ”The something we're here for?”

”Probably.”

To Jack's surprise, Henry flipped the chaise up on its side and shoved it toward the wall. ”Get behind that.”

”Up yours.”

”You'll have a place to brace your weapon as well as some small amount of protection.”

”And you'll be where?”

A loop of rope dangled from one hand. ”I'll be attempting to...”

A rain of cherries cut him off.

”What the h.e.l.l?”

Henry looked up and moved just enough to avoid being hit. ”It's our warning. The demon is through the wards.”

Jack winced as a cherry bounced off his cheek. ”You think?”

And then there was no time for thinking as all at once, tentacles and claws and spikes dangled from the light grid, filling the s.p.a.ce between the grid and the floor. It took a moment for the parts to become a whole and when it did, Jack wished it hadn't. Monsters didn't scare him-over the years he'd seen too much of what people could do-but this one gave it the old college try.

With a shriek of rending aluminum, one of the struts tore free and Jack decided that maybe being behind the fancy sofa wasn't such a bad idea. It had seemed solid. Well made. Likely to survive. He dove over the piece of furniture, rolled, and came up on his knees, ready to fire. Suddenly a line of yellow nylon rope was around the bulk of the demon's body. And then around most of the legs, snugging them in tight.

The demon screamed.

Something snarled an answer.

Jack's hindbrain sent up flares. Fight or flee! And flee seems like the better idea!

Right at the moment, denial seemed like a much better idea, but it was way, way too late for that.Jack popped off three quick rounds at the demon's... head and held back the fourth when Henry Fitzroy caught a heavily muscled arm in another loop of rope and began fighting it to the demon's side.

It seemed the not very tall man was stronger than the demon.

Stronger.

Faster.

More f.u.c.king scary.

”That's not possible.” Under the circ.u.mstances, a stupid thing to say, but Jack was having just a little trouble coping. Romance writer, my a.s.s.

The demon hit the floor with a noise somewhere between a crash and a squelch.

A writhing tentacle-like arm split the air where Henry had been seconds before, twisted around for another blow as a second clawed tentacle came straight up out of the demon's body. No way Henry could avoid both. No way Jack could get off a clear shot. Trying not to think about what he was doing, Jack went over the chaise and tackled the arm.

Pinned under the length of his body, it was warmer than he'd expected.

Warmer, and a little damp.

It took him a moment to realize why it smelled so strongly of crushed cherries.

Heavy muscles bunched up to try and throw him off and, with the right leverage, Jack was pretty sure it'd be able to toss him across the soundstage.

It s.h.i.+fted within the confining rope.

Suddenly the floor was farther away.

Oh, f.u.c.k...

Henry had faced a Demonlord and bled to keep an ancient grimoire from falling into the taloned hands of the lesser demon it commanded. In comparison, this creature seemed no more or less than it appeared. Strong. Fast. Other. But not necessarily evil.

If there are, as the Demongate supposes, a mult.i.tude of h.e.l.ls-he slid under a clawed tentacle that would have disemboweled him-then perhaps, in some of these-another loop of rope secured the limb-we name the inhabitants demon based on appearance not motivations.

As the creature hissed and writhed, he spun about in time to see Jack Elson lifted into the air on the largest of what seemed essentially its arms.

And then the arm flipped over and Constable Elson was heading back toward the concrete floor at high speed.

There were no visible joints to act as weak spots-or rather too many joints to attack in the little time he had. Racing in toward the creature, Henry grabbed the arm just under the front set of claws and kept moving, dragging it-and the constable-around until he could brace himself against the creature's own body. Teeth bared, he managed to stop the momentum of the limb and snarled, ”Let go!”

Letting go seemed like a fine idea to Jack. He dropped and rolled and crushed a little fruit, finally turning in time to see Henry drag the tentacle down to the body of the creature and secure it with another loop of the yellow rope.

No one was that fast. Or that strong.

”What the h.e.l.l are you?” he panted, pulling himself up onto his knees.

He knew when Henry looked up and smiled. He couldn't put it into words-h.e.l.l, he didn't think he could form words right at that moment-but he knew. He knew it in the way the hair rose off the back of his neck, in the way a sudden drop of sweat ran down his side under his s.h.i.+rt, in the way he couldn't seem to catch his breath or hear himself think over the pounding of his heart. He knew it in his bones.

No, in his blood.

And then he fell into dark eyes and he forgot that he knew.