Page 41
Story: Graveyard Dog
It didn’t take long. “What do you want, demon hunter?” It was Emma’s voice, but hoarser and a bit gravelly. Yet it was still her voice, even though it wasn’t her talking. Her lids remained shut, hands folded on her chest.
“You’ve heard of me,” he said.
“We all have. You are not welcome in this girl’s life.”
“Well, sucks to be you, then. If I don’t make it back, keep her safe.”
She scoffed. “There is no need to waste your breath on such obvious certainties.”
“Just sayin’. I would hate to send the daughter of light to evict you, especially after you went to all the trouble of finding such a nice, warm home.”
Emma’s breathing quickened, and a sheen of sweat formed on her upper lip. She’d clearly heard of hisgood friend.Elwyn’s mother, Charley Davidson. Most of those who lived in the veil had. That happens when you are a god known for taking down all manner of supernatural beings—even other gods if the situation called for it. She’d amassed a wicked reputation. Justly earned.
“Relax, intruder,” he said. “If you aren’t a demon, you have nothing to worry about.”
“I am a sentry. A wardress. She had the sight long before I stepped in. I will protect her as much as I am able.”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
Emma opened her eyes and turned to him. “And what happens when we are not, demon hunter?”
“Have you ever heard the termhasta la vista, baby?”
She closed her eyes again. “Go. Take care of this threat to my charge.”
“Did Izzy tell you anything before she left?”
“She called me old and cranky.”
“How old?” he asked.
A smile slid sweetly across Emma’s face…because that wasn’t creepy at all.
“This is all eerily similar to a movie you may be familiar with calledThe Exorcist.”
Michael could see Emma’s eyes roll beneath her closed lids. “In my day, we gave lobotomies to people like you.”
“That explains a lot.”
“Now, they use therapy and medication.”
“Bastards.”
“You should consider both.”
She wasn’t wrong.
He’d hoped Izzy had left him some kind of message. A clue. But it looked like he was wrong. He took the stairs six at a time and stopped short in the parking lot, realizing he didn’t have a vehicle.
“You can ride with me,” Carson said, pointing to her unmarked black SUV while her partner followed Donovan to his truck.
They tore out of the parking lot just as Michael got a call from Donovan. He put him on speaker.
“Milton is checking the website. He said the bank closed at five.”
“Who the hell is Milton?”
“My partner,” Carson said.
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