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The Babbler looked at Chase and snorted. For just a moment, his illusion wavered, and I saw his true form. He was dark and thick, with reptilian hide, and looked like a bipedal gecko with fangs curving out of his mouth like warthog tusks. His fingers were tipped with razor-sharp claws. One swipe could gut me.
"Hell. Chase, get out of here and go get Morio and Delilah. Take their place and lock the car doors." I blocked the way, inserting myself between the two men. When Chase hesitated, I said, "Now! Do as I say, or you're going to die. Trust me."
Chase turned and ran as I focused on the glowing balls of moonlight that were balanced on my fingertips. Enough talk.
"Burn!" I yelled, thrusting my palms toward the Psycho Babbler. The force shot out from my hands, striking him full in the chest. He staggered back as a swirl of smoke rose from his skin, and the illusion he'd been projecting vanished. I darted back around the doorway, hiding behind the arch that led into the living room as I summoned more power. As I drew the moonlight into my hands, I ran through my repertoire of spells, but none were as direct as the energy blasts. They were the least likely to backfire, too.
I listened, trying to pinpoint the heavy breathing of the demon, but the air was silent. That was strange. I should be able to hear him, especially with the wards I'd set up in the house. I knew better than to just peek around the corner, but I had to find out where he'd gone. If he was just on the other side of the doorway, all it would take was one swipe from around the corner. However, he might have climbed through the window out onto the porch.
Steeling my courage, I cautiously inched around the corner, peering into the empty room. The windows were closed, yet there was no sign of him. Where the hell had he gone? It shouldn't be too hard to follow his signature, but doing so would leave me vulnerable, because I couldn't keep my spell at the ready and locate him at the same time.
I reluctantly shifted focus and began looking for the auric signature of the creature. There! He'd moved toward the center of the room, the sparkles of purple and crimson were as clear as footprints in wet sand, but then they abruptly vanished. Damn it. He'd teleported or muted his trail in some other manner. He could be anywhere.
Frustrated, I dropped my guard. My first mistake. My second mistake almost killed me. I was so immersed in wondering where the Psycho Babbler had gone that I didn't notice a rustling behind me. The next thing I knew, thick hands wrapped themselves around my waist as the demon caught me up.
"Give me the man, and I won't tear you to shreds," he said, his voice raspy. But even as he spoke, I heard another sound from behind us. The Psycho Babbler let out a short scream as I fell to the floor. Catching myself, I whirled around in time to see him towering over Iris, who had stabbed him in the back with a pair of pruning shears. He took a step toward her as she backed away, a terrified look in her eyes.
* * *
CHAPTER 17
"Iris, run! Go get help!"
Before he could hit her, I dropped to the floor, rolling my full weight against the back of his legs. The Psycho Babbler wavered, then began to fall forward, cursing in the Hellanic tongue—not to be confused with Hellenic. As he thundered to the floor, I crouched, squatting as I called down the lightning. No time for a slow, steady build, I willed the crackling forks to shoot from the heavens.
The demon flicked his tongue as he staggered to his feet. His skin was like armor, scaled and leathery and a coppery shade of rust, and as he opened his mouth, I could see gleaming droplets clinging to his tusks and teeth. Great, the dude had envenomed saliva, a common trait with minor demons.
"Ugly bugger, aren't you?" I felt the niggling kiss of the lightning and opened wide to the power. As the full fury slammed through my body, I struggled to keep conscious. If I passed out, the energy would turn on me and crisp me alive.
I staggered to my feet. The Psycho Babbler did the same, and we squared off, like Jukon fighters from the island nations of Otherworld, awaiting the signal to begin. And, like Jukon fighters, we were in this to the death. Unlike the ocean warriors, I wasn't ready to die at a moment's notice.
"Give it up, girl. You know you can't win against me," the demon said, his voice thick and whistling around his big, sloppy tongue.
I ignored the taunt, narrowing my concentration as the charge built in my body. I felt myself growing tall and terrifying as forks began to flicker off my body. Inhaling, I whispered a prayer to the Moon Mother, and she answered. Strong, she was, and her quicksilver blood flowed through my body, blood to blood, breath to breath, flesh to flesh. With one last breath, I raised my hands. Demon he may be, but I was half-Faerie and a witch, and even if my powers did short-circuit on occasion, I still summoned the moon and lightning to do my bidding.
He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Witch—"
"You've got that right," I said. "And you forgot Etiquette Lesson 101. Never, ever make a witch angry." And then I loosed the lightning. Twin forks shot out of my hands, catching him square in the chest. He grunted, stumbling as the smell of burning flesh hit my nostrils. I immediately began readying for another attack.
He lurched forward, swiping at me with one of his great paws, and I nimbly dodged the attack. The demon took another swing, this time missing me by mere inches. I hastily jumped aside, trying not to lose my balance. If I didn't get somebody in here fast, I was going to end up on the bad end of the shish kebab.
I strained my ears, listening for the sound of approaching help. Nada. And then I heard something—a faint clicking from the kitchen. I shot a quick glance out the window and saw that dusk had fallen early, thanks to the heavy cloud cover.
"Yo! Demon! Come kiss my ass," a familiar voice sliced through the room. As the Psycho Babbler turned, I caught a glimpse of Menolly, her eyes glowing crimson, fangs fully extended. As she vaulted toward him, I hit him with another blast, aiming for his legs. His hide was so tough that the energy charred his skin but did little other damage.
Thunder rumbled through the room as the lightning raced through his body. Menolly grunted—the lightning wouldn't hurt her, but she didn't like it. The demon apparently liked it even less. He swung around, and his claws barely missed me, but he managed to fall on me, knocking me to the ground. I screamed as his toothy grin came within inches of my face, but then he rose in the air as if a marionette on a string, and I saw that Menolly, my slight, petite sister, had hold of him with one hand.
I made tracks, backpedaling out of the way. As I watched, Menolly reared back, mouth open. Her fangs glistened like deadly needles. Enthralled by the bloodlust, she tossed the demon to the ground and fell on him, biting deep into his neck. The Psycho Babbler struggled, but she held him down, and I could hear the sucking noise as she gorged herself on his blood.
Queasy, I stared at her in morbid fascination. I'd never seen Menolly feed before—at least not like this. I'd seen her take blood from strangers, but she always left them alive and relatively unharmed when I was with her. This time, her intent wasn't to feed but to kill. I knew vampires were strong, but I hadn't realized she was this strong. And even though it was a him-or-us situation, the sight of her thrall bothered me, but I pushed aside my distaste. There was no room for mercy here, nor compassion. The Psycho Babbler would have killed all of us if he had the chance.
Besides, I was having my own problems. I began to shake as cramps raced through my body. Calling down the lightning had its drawbacks, especially when I summoned so much in such a short amount of time. As I leaned against the doorframe, Morio raced in. He took in the situation and crossed to my side.
"Are you okay?" he asked. .
I nodded, cringing as the demon gurgled and collapsed.
Menolly leaned over him in a preternatural stance, bent almost double, on her tiptoes. Blood trickled down her chin… dark blood, almost black, but blood nonetheless. A wild look filled her eyes, and she held out her hand, warning us to keep away.
