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“Which demon is it?”
He ran a hand over his head. “No clue. Not yet. He talks like a Brit.”
“Lots of demons do, Dexx.”
“I know, Leslie.”
She sighed, not adding anything for a long moment. “If only she had stayed. I could have helped her.”
“Except that when she was still there, you and Alma had to reapply the memory wipe on a daily basis because everything reminded her of Leah.”
“A mother’s love.”
“Yeah.” Not that he knew much about that. His mother had been good at supporting him and his brother, but he hadn’t paid much attention. His father had left, and he’d taken it out on her. It hadn’t left them with much of a relationship, though she had tried.
Dexx let the silence linger until he finished the sigil on Paige’s wrist. “Any more thoughts? Like, uh, I don’t know, how I’m supposed to keep your protections in place?”
“I don’t know. Just—hold on a sec.”
Dexx knew what was coming, but his hands were busy so he couldn’t pull the phone away from his ear. He did as far as he could without dropping the phone.
“Grandma!” Leslie’s voice shrilled through his ear.
“You could have moved the phone away from your mouth.” He bit his lip, surveying the temporary tattoo. Not a real tattoo, just an ink drawing. If this worked, he’d talk Paige into making it permanent.
“I did, you dolt.”
“Again with the language.”
“Shh. Grandma, I’ve got Dexx.”
He could hear Alma in the background. Things clanked and clambered. She was either in the kitchen or her workroom.
“Dexx?” her voice crackled over the speaker. “What happened?”
“I already told Leslie. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“You’re a pain in my ass, boy.”
“I do what I can, ma’am.”
“Do you need me there?”
If her gift really did awaken, he could handle himself. He was a tried-and-true demon hunter. Well-practiced even. But with her? She’d been a friend for a good part of his life, had pulled him out of more than a few scrapes. Not to mention the little fact she was a Whiskey witch, and a demon summoner, who would be really, really pissed if the thing awoke her memories.
“I hear your silence.”
“Alma, I could reall—”
“Don’t go anywhere,” Leslie interrupted. “Whatever you do, don’t let her go back to any crime scenes. We’re on our way.”
“But the kids—”
“What do you think my husband is for? You have protections up?”
“How stupid do you think I am?” he asked. “But how good are they going to be if it’s using the backdoor to get in?”
“You tested her, right? You said she wasn’t possessed.”
“Yes, I tested her and, no, she’s not possessed,” he said tightly. “But how do I test for a bond? Will it show up with holy water?”
“I’ll ask Grandma. Maybe she can come up with something.”
“We can hope so.” He hung up the phone, and looked at the sleeping woman. “I told you I’d kill you if you lost control of your gift.” He blinked and rose from the bed. “I just don’t know if I can.”
Her bags were tossed in the corner, moved, from where the cop put them, neatly on the bed. He checked her computer bag to see if she had any files. It was heavy enough to have a massive laptop, but what he found instead was a tablet and three inches of paperwork.
The papers had nothing to do with this case. To be honest, he didn’t know why she had them, though, he didn’t invest much time in deciphering them.
The tablet was password protected. After three failed guesses, the screen locked up for thirty seconds. He sighed, wracking his brain for something. This was Paige. She wouldn’t choose her family’s names, or birthdates, or even random numbers attached to names. Her pet wasn’t an option because she wasn’t an animal person.
She was, however, a huge fan of Queen, and her favorite song just happened to be Bicycle Race. He replaced a couple of the letters with the numbers he knew her logical mind was likely to use. Still blocked.
Holding his breath, he did it again but added Leah’s age.
He was in.
He closed his eyes, expelling a heavy breath. Shit.
Paige startled violently enough to shake the bed and emitted a gut-wrenching cry. He looked over at her, trying to pry his heart from his throat.
Her eyes were open. White-knuckled hands gripped the comforter beneath her.
Dexx scrambled to the bed, grabbing his flask of holy water on the way. “Pea?”
“He’s here,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, her whole body relaxing as if she suddenly fell asleep.
He unscrewed the cap and sprinkled a bit of water over her. It lay against her cheek, on her bared arms, on her exposed belly. Nothing. Hollywood made it look so easy. Throw some holy water, spout some words in Latin and presto, instant dead demon. If only it always worked that way.
“Pea, you’re dreaming,” he said, setting the water on the table next to the bed. He grabbed her shoulders and shook lightly. “Come on. Wake up.”
“Leah,” she sobbed. Her clawed hand raked at her heart, tugging the V-neck of her tank down. Blood welled in the trails her nails left.
“Oh, shit.” Dexx slapped her face. Nothing.
She convulsed. Her body twisted in pain. Grief ravaged her face.
“Not good. Not good. Very pissed off woman with the ability to call demons. Not freakin’ good.” He reached up to slap her a bit harder, but stopped at the sight of the sigil on her wrist glowing a fiery red.
“Oh, God.” He grabbed the holy water off the table and glared into the flask. “Richard, if you shysted me, I am so gonna kick your ass.” He poured the rest of the flask on her arm where the rune burned. It sizzled and evaporated instantly. “Oh…shit.”
His mind scrambled, coming up blank. Trained demon hunter.
Honed instincts.
Scared shitless.
Her eyes shot open. The chocolate brown was gone. Only black remained.
“Paige!” He jumped on the bed and straddled her, taking her shoulders in his hands.
Her lips twisted as she grabbed hold of his wrists. “Hunter.” The voice that came out of her resonated with a thousand different tones.
Demon. Not Paige.
“Let her go.”
The thing just smiled with her lips. “I will protect the key at all costs.”
“Paige?” Dexx had to get through to her. “Pea. Wake up!”
The demon raised itself onto an elbow. “Look what you did. See.” It pressed the burning rune to Dexx’s arm.
Power from the rune surged up his arm, up his neck, into his head. It burned so hot he swore he could smell his flesh burning.
“Paige,” Dexx roared.
The fire stopped. Or maybe he disconnected from his body. Visions came to Dexx along with emotions that didn’t belong to him. He stared at Alma’s kitchen table. He knew that table. But he stared at Paige’s hands.
He was numb. He felt nothing. No love. No hurt. No anger. Just numb.
Concern shone in Leslie’s brown eyes. Why would Leslie ever look at him like that? “How about you call Leah early today?”
Leah? Wait. Was he reliving Paige’s memories?
Oh no, he was. What was going on? “Paige.” Dexx fought to get his real hand to push away, to break away from the rune. That had to be where the bond was, why he was seeing her memories. “Paige. You’ve gotta wake up. Fight this.”
She seemed to ignore him. Maybe, she couldn’t hear him. Maybe, the memories that had been banished for so long were too loud. He didn't know. He could only listen and watch.
She walked over to the phone with doom blooming in her heart. It was the same every time. She knew what to expect. She knew what she would hear, what would happen. She knew the pain she would go to bed with. She bit her lip as she dialed her mother’s number, and choked down the rising tears of desperate frustration. She wouldn’t stop. She would let Leah know she loved her now and forever.
“Hello?” Rachel’s cheerful voice said as she answered the phone.
“Rachel,” Paige said, her tone devoid of emotion.
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