indistinguishable.
“So…I repeat. What is that?”
“ That is a drakni Mother, a drakia,” Sharice said. “That girl is the reason that there are all these drakni here. They’re all vanity demons, by the way. Well, almost all. Now, look around. Do you see some of the girls who should have drakni but don’t seem to?”
“Yes,” Barb said. “And their auras are dark, too. Not as dark…”
“Their drakni have settled all the way in,” Sharice said, then paused as their waitress approached the table. “There are a few who don’t have them. Call them girls who don’t have that particular hook. Stronger-willed, not self-critical and vain at the same time. But they’re rare in a place like this.”
“Welcome to Rubs,” the girl said perkily. “Our Happy Hour specials are…”
“I’d like a Coca-Cola and a plate of hot wings,” Sharice said when the girl was finished with the recitation.
Barb had been trying and failing to not notice the drakni on the girl’s shoulder. It was tiny, no bigger than a small rabbit, and seemed barely attached. But she found herself studying it, and then it noticed. It hissed at her, and she had the hardest time in the world not hissing back. Lazarus had no such reservations, letting out a soft warning yowl from the cat-bag.
“Uhm, ma’am, your cat…” the girl said.
“It’s okay,” Barb said, mentally sighing. She focused on the demon and then Displayed, releasing the mental hold on her own aura and showing just a portion of her true power.
The drakni nearly hopped out of its skin and cowered down, blinking its huge eyes in a way that was vaguely appealing, like a puppy that had been shouted at.
“Down, Laz,” Barb added as the cat released a meow that sounded vaguely like a snicker. “I’ll take the grouper burger, hold the bread.”
“They’re not ganging up on me,” Barb said quietly as the waitress left.
“They saw enough to know not to,” Sharice said, sighing. “But they’ll follow. And they are ganging up on you. You’ve just managed to learn to suppress your Ear.”
“Not really,” Barb said. “I Hear what you mean, now. But there’s so much other white noise…” Now that she paid attention, she could hear the demons cat-calling at her. They were commenting meticulously on her looks and promising that they could make her look better if she’d just take one of them…
“Concentrate on one,” Sharice said, quietly.
“Kavam,” Barb said. “The one on our waitress’s shoulder. I can name off the rest.”
“The Mother?” Sharice asked.
“Uhm…” Barb said, looking over at the waitress. “She’s not talking.”
“Concentrate,” Sharice said. “It’s going to be there anyway.”
“Long…” Barb said after a moment. “I can hear it in my head, but I’m not sure I could pronounce it.”
“And thus we get to the whole unpronounceable name thing,” Sharice said. “But it’s not necessary. Concentrate on the name and then call it over.”
“It’s in someone,” Barb said.
“Just do it and watch.”
Barb concentrated on the waitress, who was delivering a tray of beers to a table, and fixed on the name of the demon, calling it to her. The waitress finished delivering the beers, then instead of heading to one of her tables or the waitress station, came over to Barb’s table.
“Welcome to Rubs,” the girl said, smiling. “Haven’t I seen you in here before?” she added, looking at Sharice.
“I love the atmosphere,” Sharice replied. “You’ve been here a while?”
“Since I turned eighteen,” the girl said. “But I’m getting tired of it. I’m thinking about changing jobs. Don’t tell anybody.”
“Of course not,” Sharice replied, smiling. “Our secret.”
“Uhm…” the waitress said, uncomfortably.
Barb realized that on concentrating on the demon, she’d been staring at the girl’s breasts.
“Sorry,” she coughed. “I was thinking about something. Penelope, that’s a nice name.”
“Thank you,” Penelope replied. “Well, I hope you gals stop by more often.”
“She thinks we’re lesbians,” Sharice said with a chuckle.
“I wonder where she’s going to move to,” Barb replied.
“Nowhere,” Sharice said. “This place is too fertile a ground for her Mother. New girls all the time, most of them fixated on the importance of looks. She’ll end up being a manager when she’s lost the looks to be a waitress. And with that demon riding her, that’s going to be quicker than normal. Vanity demons are like that. They promise beauty and make you ugly faster than smoking.”
“There’s nothing wrong with looking good,” Barb said, frowning.
“I agree,” Sharice said. “But there’s looking good for looking good’s sake, and looking good because it’s all you consider yourself to be. When you dress well and do your makeup, it’s almost a sacrifice to your God. It is one form of worship, whether you recognize it or not. In Janea’s case, for example, it truly is a form of worship. I’ve never brought her here. I’m frankly afraid of the effects.”
“Where is Janea?” Barb asked.
The Asatru High Priestess had been Barb’s partner on her first true case. While Barb was immensely more powerful, Janea, despite giving the air of being a bubblehead, was much more educated in the occult. They’d made a most effective team.
“In Chattanooga,” Sharice said, frowning. “There’s a really strange case up there. Not one case, actually. The problem is, there have been several people who have changed from quite normal to psychotic literally in moments. The FBI’s trying to figure out if it has Special Circumstances. Most of the killers haven’t fit the normal profile. Janea’s up there checking it out. In her own inimitable way, I’m sure.”
While Barb tended to dress well and becomingly, Janea went straight from “becoming” to “scandalous” without any of the normal intervening steps. When she got teamed with FBI agents, it was…humorous.
“Any reports?” Barb asked.
“Not that have come across my desk,” Sharice said as her phone started to play Ozzie Osborne’s “Over the Mountain.” “I’ll be right back. That’s Augustus.”
Barb had just picked up a chicken wing and bitten into it when Sharice came in looking for their waitress.
“We have to go,” the witch said, her face tight. “Right now.”
“Why?” Barb asked, setting down the wing and wiping her fingers.
“Funny you should have asked about Janea at that moment,” Sharice said. “Where is that waitress?!”
Barb closed her eyes and Called.
“I hope that’s not a sin,” she said, quietly. “Lord, I’m only using this demon, and the person that it rides, in Your works. If I have done wrong, I request some sort of sign.”
“Well, it worked,” Sharice said. “Here she comes.”
“Now what about Janea?” Barb asked.
“She’s in the hospital,” the witch replied. “I need the check. Now. A friend’s been hurt.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said. The demon on her shoulder was shuddering as if in pain.
“What did you do to that thing?” Sharice asked.
“I concentrated,” Barb said. “Hard. Janea.”
“It seems she might have found what is causing the problem,” Sharice said. “Unfortunately, they don’t know if she’s going to live. Augustus has arranged a plane.”
CHAPTER THREE
“We’re not sure what is wrong with Miss Grisham,” Dr. Stewart Downing said.
The neurologist was tall and slender with a saturnine air. Barb, in fact, found him somewhat creepy.
