Mind Games (Demon Trappers Book 5) Read online

  “In one piece.” A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face. “Jackson, you good?”

  Master Trapper Chris Jackson joined them now, his face and ponytail covered in brick dust. “Sure am. Damned that was a big mother.”

  “Where the hell are the others?” Reynolds demanded.

  “I have no idea,” Jackson said. “I was at Georgia Tech. I figured I’d be the last to get here.”

  If he could make it all the way down to Demon Central, there was no good reason the rest of the trappers weren’t here.

  “We just got hung out to dry,” Riley said. “And I’m willing to bet it’s because I was the one who sent out the call.”

  The two men traded looks, but didn’t argue. That only made her angrier.

  “I owe you guys,” she said. “Really.”

  “No, you don’t. But you do owe the others some serious pain,” Reynolds said.

  She nodded grimly. And I’m the girl to deliver it.

  Chapter Three

  Riley’s two apprentices had waited for her, doing just as she’d asked: keeping the curious out of harm’s way. Tonight it was only a small knot of bystanders. One of them was filming her on his cell phone.

  Every. Blasted. Time.

  By tomorrow she’d be on YouTube. Again. It was a sure bet that Beck would see the video, and then she’d get a worried phone call from Scotland.

  When she reached her apprentices, she gave them a pleased smile. “Thanks, guys, you did good.”

  Kurt shook his head, his eyes still wide. “My God, that thing was huge!”

  “Yeah, they are just that,” she said, trying not to show how much she was shaking inside. “But we took it down.”

  “I thought there’d be more trappers here to help you,” Richard said.

  Now was not the time to tell them why she thought that hadn’t happened.

  “You guys go on home. We’ll trap a Three another night.”

  They looked relieved and she knew why: The sight of the Five had filled them with terror. She wasn’t much different. Only two other of Hell’s killers scared her more: Fallen angels and Archfiends.

  “See you tomorrow at nine at Harper’s,” she added.

  If her gut was right, they’d be there. If not, one or both of them would have phoned in their resignations. And she wouldn’t blame them. Sensible people did not trap Hellspawn for a living.

  “Good night, Riley,” Kurt called out.

  Richard seconded it and they headed out of Demon Central, talking back and forth animatedly.

  She looked over at Jackson, who was just getting off his phone. “You called Harper?”

  He nodded. “He wants you to head up to Stewart’s house. He’ll meet you there. They want a report. I already gave them mine.”

  Oh boy. “Who was on duty tonight, besides you and Reynolds?”

  “McGuire, Stanfield, and Machen.”

  Riley snorted. “Why am I surprised? Those guys have never wanted me in the Guild.”

  “There are only a few,” Reynolds said. “Most are fine with you being a trapper. After what you did for us last spring, everybody oughta be worshipping at your feet.”

  “Not likely,” she said. Lowering her voice so none of the bystanders could hear her, she added, “Some think the only reason Heaven and Hell almost went to war was because of me.”

  “Then they’re stupid,” Jackson said. He walked to where the small knot of locals was clustered. “Time to go home, folks. The demon is gone.”

  To Riley’s amusement, a young lady offered him a scrap of paper and asked for his autograph.

  “Groupies,” Reynolds murmured. “Gotta love ’em.”

  A few more cell phones flashed, capturing Riley in her post-Five-whirlwind glory. Just once, she wished they’d see her looking good. Unfortunately, for a trapper, this was the norm.

  She hadn’t mentioned the necromancer to either Jackson or Reynolds, saving that newsflash for the two senior masters. Because if anyone knew how to handle that problem, it would be them.

  *~*~*

  Grand Master Angus Stewart lived in Riley’s dream home, a multi-story, blue Victorian, complete with a turret and a ballroom. Because it had once been the Vatican’s requirement that Stewart keep an eye on her, she’d lived with the grand master since earlier in the year. Now that Beck was away in Scotland, she split her time between here and his place across town. Once Beck was back home for good, there’d be a wedding to plan and . . .

  Not yet. There was just too much going on to think about all that.

  Her own master’s truck was already in the driveway, which meant Harper had headed over here the moment he’d gotten off the phone with Jackson.

  He and Stewart are going to be furious.

  The scent of aromatic pipe tobacco greeted her as she entered Stewart’s favorite room in the huge house. The stone fireplace currently hosted a warming blaze. Her eyes automatically tracked to the Scottish flag above the mantel, the white St. Andrew’s cross on a blue background. Family pictures adorned the walls, and a couple new photographs of grandchildren had been added.

  Stewart sat in his usual chair, one of his legs propped up on an ottoman. Unlike usual, he didn’t have a glass of whisky at his elbow, no doubt in deference to Harper’s battle with alcoholism.

  Harper gave her a quick look, then shook his head at her appearance. “Yeah, it was a Five alright,” he said.

  “That’s for damn sure,” Stewart said.

  “I look that bad?”

  “A lot like Dorothy after the tornado blew her ta Oz,” Stewart said, his light accent a reminder of his homeland.

  He was in his sixties, had spent the last decade in Atlanta, and was a member of the International Demon Trappers Guild. Though as a grand master he technically outranked Harper, it was Harper who ran the local Guild. When she’d asked why, Stewart had explained that Harper deserved to be the head of Atlanta’s trappers, that he’d paid a very high personal price for that job.

  Her master, on the other hand, was in his fifties, but looked older. Part of the reason was the wicked scar on Harper’s face. His years of living in a bottle hadn’t helped, but now that he’d joined Alcoholics Anonymous, Riley’d had the opportunity to see the real Harper. Still a tough old bastard, he had a heart buried down under all the attitude, something she hadn’t always thought possible.

  Riley chose her favorite chair in the room. Fortunately, it was leather, so she wouldn’t leave too much of a mess behind. It was also close to the fire.

  “Sorry. I was going to clean up, but I wanted to talk to you guys right away.”

  “Not a problem. If ya need somethin’ ta drink, help yerself,” their host said.

  “No, I’m good.” She pulled out a water bottle from her backpack and took a sip. The silence filled in around them.

  This was familiar territory. More than once, she’d been here with these two men after one momentous event or another. Back then, Harper had been the enemy, but now they had a truce in place. From the fire in his eyes, she could tell he was mad. At least it wasn’t at her.

  “Give us your report,” her master ordered.

  Riley did as he asked, laying it all out, including the necromancer who had summoned the Five and how it seemed as if he’d been waiting just for her.

  “Shite,” Stewart muttered. “Lord Ozymandias has killed enough of the fools, ya’d think they’d learned their lesson.”

  “Apparently not.”

  Harper fumed. “So we’ve got two separate problems here: the necro calling up a demon, and the fact that three of our trappers didn’t back you up tonight. Is that right?”

  She nodded. “If Jackson hadn’t shown up, Reynolds and I would have been in big trouble.”

  “Dead, you mean. And I do not want to be the one who has to call Beck to tell h
im his squeeze is history because no one was there for her,” Harper said.

  Squeeze?

  “Trappers’ meetin’ tomorrow night?” Stewart asked.

  Harper nodded in response. “The sooner the better.”

  “Telling them they have to treat me like any other trapper isn’t going to work,” Riley said. “Some of them are always going to hate me.”

  “It depends on how they get told, lass,” Stewart said. He looked over at Harper, and her master gave a nod. “Get some rest. Ya did a fine job tonight.”

  She knew that, but it felt good to hear it.

  Harper cleared his throat. “I agree.”

  A compliment from her master? That was rare too. “Thank you. I’ll be staying at Beck’s tonight,” she said.

  “Keep yerself safe, lass.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  As Riley reached the front door, they began to talk back and forth. She couldn’t hear the exact words, but she caught the undercurrent of righteous anger. Once again, she was unwillingly causing hassles within the demon trappers’ ranks.

  This crap has to stop.

  Chapter Four

  Rolling out of bed the next morning, Riley felt like she hadn’t slept at all. Fortunately, her job didn’t require fancy clothes or makeup, so she washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair, and called it good.

  Forcing herself to do a quick drive through at one of the fast-food restaurants, she ate a breakfast sandwich destined to sit in her stomach for hours. She arrived at Harper’s place a little before nine. Whereas Stewart had a home, her master was into auto-repair shops. Though some might frown at his choice of living arrangements, this one was nice compared to his previous home.

  With both a personal space upstairs and an area downstairs to confine Hellspawn before they were sold to the demon traffickers, it worked pretty well. Riley had come to appreciate it after learning this was Harper’s way of commemorating his dead father, who’d been both a trapper and an auto mechanic.

  Her master was still cranky this morning, so Riley collected the trapping orders and shooed her two newbies out before he barked at them.

  She was used to his temper now, but there was no reason to encounter it more than needed. She was also thankful that both of her apprentices were still willing to continue their training. It could have easily gone the other way.

  Once they were in her car, headed toward one of the private colleges in East Point, Kurt finally spoke.

  “What’s up? Master Harper was a bear this morning, at least more than usual, and you’re looking as if you want to beat someone into the ground.”

  Oops. She hadn’t wanted these guys to worry, but apparently she wasn’t doing a good job hiding her anger. “It’s complicated.”

  “It’s because only two trappers showed up last night, right?” Kurt asked.

  “Ah . . . yeah. Like I said, it’s complicated.”

  “Not really,” Richard replied. “You’re a trapper. You were up against a Geo-Fiend. The others should have gotten their asses there to back you up. Any other action on their part is totally wrong.”

  “What he said,” Kurt added.

  These guys were going to be just fine. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

  “This is happening because of last spring, isn’t it? I mean, I don’t know much about all that, but I’ve heard some of the trappers talking about it,” Richard said.

  “Yeah, a lot went down and I always seemed to be in the middle of it. There are some who can’t handle women in the Guild. There always will be.”

  “That’s bullshit. So how are you going to fix this?”

  “I’m not,” she replied. “Stewart and Harper will.”

  Kurt issued a low whistle. “This, I gotta see.”

  “You’ll see it tonight. Wear your body armor. It’s not going to be pretty. Nothing is more impressive than Angus Stewart on the warpath, and Harper’s just scary any old time,” Riley warned.

  Once she finally found a place to park, they were out and headed toward the administration building.

  “Let me guess—another Geeker to trap,” Richard said.

  “Yup. Techno-Fiends love college campuses. Why is that?”

  “Lots of computers.”

  “What else makes this particular location a good choice for a fiend?”

  Kurt pointed at a sign as they passed it. “Christian school. A chance to turn electronics to putty and flip off the church at the same time. Every fiend’s dream.”

  “There you go,” she replied.

  “Have you heard anything from Jaye?” Richard asked.

  “She texted me this morning and said she’s hoping to be at the meeting. Her mom’s lots better,” Riley replied.

  “Good. It’ll be nice to have her back with us. She’s cool.” He nudged his fellow apprentice. “You should ask her out.”

  “Ah, I did. She turned me down,” Kurt replied. “I like to think it was because her mom is ill. My ego can’t handle flat-out rejection.”

  “I thought you were already dating someone,” Riley said.

  “We kinda broke up. My ex didn’t like me being a trapper very much. Her family had ‘objections,’” he said, using air quotes.

  “Welcome to the wonderful world of trapping,” she replied. “People adore you when you’re hauling a demon out of their home or business, but they never want their daughter or son to date you.”

  “After last night, I can see why,” Richard murmured. “And that Five wasn’t even at the top of the demonic food chain. I can’t imagine what an Archfiend looks like.”

  “Nearly your worst nightmare.”

  “And the worst is?”

  “A Fallen angel. Because not only can they kill you, but they can seriously mess with your head.”

  Riley and her apprentices slowed their pace as they reached the front door of the administration building.

  “You’ve really killed two Archfiends?” Richard asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Then why aren’t they making you a master?”

  Before she could answer, Kurt cut in. “Let me guess. It’s complicated.”

  “Very complicated.”

  And not likely to change anytime soon.

  *~*~*

  After taking care of the necessary paperwork, Riley and her charges were escorted to the computer lab by a young woman, probably an administrative assistant.

  “Which computer?” Riley asked, looking at a roomful of desktop monitors.

  The woman shrugged. “All of them.”

  Riley blinked. “It’s not usually this bad. How long has this been going on?”

  “A week. It took a while to get the okay to have you guys come fix them.”

  “That would be why,” Riley muttered. “What kinds of things have been happening?”

  “It started with weird blackouts, then the computers would come back on and all the icons would be changed to something different. Then it got really bad.”

  “Like how?”

  “Twenty-four seven political ads. No way we could get rid of them.”

  “That is hardcore,” Richard said, smirking.

  “No, then it did get hardcore, as in pornography,” the lady explained. “That really flipped out the administration.”

  That’s why they finally called us. Riley looked back at the administrative assistant. “This’ll take some time.”

  “Really? Can I watch?”

  “No. It’s safer if you don’t. We’ll let you know if we need anything.”

  Though the lady looked crestfallen, Riley shooed her out the door and shut it behind her.

  “Always make sure the nosy civilians are out of the way,” she said. “It’s as important as getting all the right paperwork signed.” Pointing down at the door’s threshold,
she added, “I need a line of Holy Water here to keep the Geeker from taking off.”

  “Have you ever seen one?” Kurt asked.

  “Barely. They’re only about a quarter of an inch tall. Personally, I prefer Magpies to these guys.”

  “Why?” Kurt asked, as he knelt and ran the line of sacred liquid where she’d indicated.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” she said, smiling over at Richard, who nodded in agreement. He’d been in on a Techno-Fiend trapping before, and it’d been wild.

  “Done,” Kurt said, recapping the bottle of Holy Water.

  Riley scoped out the room. There was one door, a few windows, which were currently closed, and a ventilation register in the ceiling. Riley pointed at the register. “Put some on that thing,” she said. “Richard, do the honors for the windows, will you?”

  As her apprentices did her bidding, she stared at the sixteen computers. Where to start? She turned them on and fidgeted as each one fired up.

  Their tasks completed, the guys joined her.

  “What are we waiting for?” Kurt asked.

  “We’re waiting for the demon to say hello.”

  “Do they usually do that?”

  “They do if she’s around,” Richard said.

  As if in agreement, one of the computer monitors lit up.

  BLACKTHORNE’S DAUGHTER

  “Here we go,” she said.

  Chapter Five

  More of the monitors came to life, each with the same “Blackthorne’s Daughter” message. Then it changed.

  HELL MISSES YOU

  The message remained for a few seconds, then vanished in a sea of flames, blood-red and boiling like the center of a firestorm. Voices came out of the speakers now, the howls of the damned. She’d heard them before. Seen their faces. Feared she’d become one of them.

  “Riley?” Richard nudged her. “You okay?”

  She shook off the still-too-vivid memories and frowned at the monitors.

  “Okay, this is war,” she said. “Time to nail this little jerk.” She beckoned the two apprentices away from the computers, then whispered her plan.

  “Just give me some time to get it set up,” she said.