A Wolf at the Door

Bobby watched me for all of two minutes before he came and shoved me out of the way. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re gonna take all night.” With the speed of military efficiency, he had my shirt ironed and tossed at me in a matter of moments. “Damn civilians.”

When I stripped off my T-shirt to change, Tai whistled lowly. “Damn, man! What’d you do, dance with a lawn mower?”

I looked down at my bare chest, eyeing the interesting collection of scars that dotted my pale skin. Burn splatters down one forearm. Some quarter-sized horseshoe-looking marks on my shoulders. And my crowning achievement, the vicious claw marks raking my left side from armpit to hip. All presents from demons I’d faced, some more formidable than others. “Pretty sure that’s one of those questions you’re happier not knowing the answer to, Tai.”

Even Bobby looked impressed. “That one had to puncture a lung there,” he mused, pointing to my Yeti scars.

I ran my fingers over them, feeling the rough ridges along my ribs. “Lung, stomach, intestines, nicked the liver, broke almost every rib on that side, and just barely missed my kidney and my heart.” Yeah, Jesse had been a tore-up boy after that one. Sometimes, I wondered why I lived.

“Jesus Christ!” Gretchen’s exclamation startled us all, followed by Dante’s almost whispered, “Wow.” None of us had heard them return.

Suddenly self-conscious, I shrugged into my new shirt. “It’s no big deal. I lived.”

“Were all those from demon fights?” Gretchen tried to get another look as I buttoned up my shirt, and I frowned and turned away to block her view. Of course, she immediately followed me in a circle until I batted her hands away from my collar with an annoyed growl.

“Yes.”

“And you keep doing it?” There was no mistaking the awe in her blue eyes. “Are you nuts?”

“Like I said. Not too bright.”

She looked at me like I’d suddenly grown two heads until Dante cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go, Boo, if that’s okay. You look great, you don’t need me.”

“Oh yeah, Dante, thanks.” She walked him to the door, kissing his cheek as he left.

He was right, though. She was stunning. I couldn’t even tell you what he did to her hair, except it was all piled up on top of her head and falling down in these little wispy tendril thingies. Her dress was a dark teal that brought out a hint of green in her eyes, draping to bare her back and reveal her shimmery soul tattoos again. Her shoes, of course, were high enough to require a building permit.

She turned to face us, giving us a critical once-over. “Well, as soon as Jesse tucks his shirt in, we’re ready to go.” All eyes in the room looked at me expectantly until I’d done as instructed, but before we could head out the door, I stopped them.

“Wait just a sec.” In the pack that contained my armor were my leather bracers. I slid them on, using my teeth to fasten the buckles, then rolled my cuffs down over them. The shirt sleeves would hide them, and at least I felt like I had a bit more defense with them on. Invisible snowflakes peppered my skin as the spells on them settled into place. Joint work, that, Mira’s carved symbols combined with Cameron’s prayer.

My demon mace went on my belt loop, with Mira’s pentacle and Cam’s danger disk. I patted my pockets down, trying to think if I could carry anything else inconspicuously, but that really was the sum total of my concealable gear. Demon fighting isn’t really what you’d call subtle. I didn’t offer an explanation of my actions, and no one else asked, so when I was done, we were off.

I had no idea where we went, exactly, but the street was lined with huge house after mansion after castle. They all had high walls and gated drives, most with little guardhouses to the sides. Some of those had people in them. Most did not.

The sprawling house we pulled up to was designed with a Spanish flavor, and the only reason I knew that was because I worked in an open-air mall with the same decorator. Terra-cotta slate roof, stucco walls, fancy mosaic tiles under our feet. Fountains. That kinda stuff.

I spent more time scoping out the security than the architecture, though. They were easy to spot. First, we had the security force that belonged to the house. You could tell them because they were all wearing identical gray sport coats with a teeny little logo emblazoned on the left breast. They had earpieces and radios clipped to their belts. I counted six before we turned the car over to the valet.

The cops, of course, were outside directing traffic. Two cars, one officer apiece. Probably there to keep the neighbors from calling in complaints.