ready.
“One alone, not really. This many… They’ll kill Zane if we don’t get them off him. It’s not shock, it’s them, sucking on his life. They’re probably what’s making Oscar all pissy too. If we can scrape off the scuzzies, things will go back to some semblance of normal.”
“But… he said this was holy ground.” Oscar pointed at Cam who had finally slumped onto a bar stool again.
The possibly ex-priest looked a bit gray around the edges too. He’d way overextended himself. “The land is consecrated,” he explained. “Not the cabin floor. They were inside before the wards went up, so now they’re trapped here with us.”
“But where’d they come from in the first place? I mean, how long have they been on us?”
If I had to guess, I’d say the Yeti sicced his little greasy minions on the Quinns when Zane sold his soul. Despair is a good motivator, and if the demon could bag the whole family, so much the better. With the kid’s mom just passing, they’d have been ripe pickings. “There’s no telling. With all the stress of losing your wife, you probably never noticed the behavior changes. If Zane’s been a little more hostile than usual… If you’ve felt extra depressed. Mood swings, irritability, sudden bleakness. It was all explainable. Hell, if it wasn’t for the big doofus, I’d have never known they were here myself.” I patted Duke’s head, and he leaned into me hard enough to almost knock me over. “From now on, we watch the dog. If there’s something wrong, he’ll know before any of us.”
“All right. We know they’re here. Now how do we kill them?” Cole walked over and touched Oscar’s shoulder, the one that was currently hosting a Scrap demon. In the reflection, the demon scuttled away from Cole’s hand, climbing down the front of Oscar’s shirt, clinging to the cloth with its three-toed claws. Interesting.
“First, we need weapons.” Cole reached for his holstered handgun-when had he found time to put that on?- and I shook my head. “Bit of overkill there, little brother. Besides, we might need the bullets. Just… find stuff that will stab or smash. They’re crunchy inside. Think of them like really big, really hairy cockroaches. With huge mouths full of shark teeth. And oh yeah, they’re venomous.”
The look from the group as a whole said, “Are you out of your freaking mind?!”
9
The first thing we did was light every lantern we could find. The sun was well and truly down by now, and the last place I wanted to be hunting demons, even little ones, was in the dark. Every shadow was a potential hiding place, and we positioned the lights to eliminate as many as possible.
“Count them. We have to get them all. There aren’t any other mirrors in the house, so this is the one shot we’ll get at them.” The troops were lined up, hanging on my every word. Sort of.
We’d managed to wrangle weapons easy enough. My sword, some fireplace implements, a hatchet. Duke. It had been decided that Oscar and Zane weren’t up for helping, nor was Cameron. So it would be just me and my buddies on bug-squishing duty. The trick was going to be getting all the little buggers before they got over their fright and faded back across the veil.
“They’re going to scatter the moment the glass breaks. They’ll know they’re visible, and they’ll try to hide until they can gather their wits and slip back across. So we gotta move quick. If one gets away from you, watch Duke. He should be able to keep up with them if we can’t.” Man, I hoped I was right. Duke was more known for his cowardice than anything else. It remained to be seen if his sudden bravado would hold.
“Whatever you do, don’t get bit.”
“What happens if we get bit?”
“I… don’t actually know. Just know you’re not supposed to get bit.” I nodded toward Zane and his blackening fingers. “It’s not like that. It’s a different poison. If it gets on your skin, it’s gonna feel like battery acid, and it’ll eat through your clothes just the same too.” I was trying to cram as much information into one briefing as I could, but I just knew I was going to forget something. “When they die, they’re gonna just mist away. Try not to get too much of the black stuff on you. It won’t do any damage in small doses, but it’ll make you numb and cold temporarily. Any questions?” No one spoke up.
Somewhere deep inside, I was proud of them. Cole had dealt with demons before, but never in combat mode. Will had glued the pieces of me back together often enough after a fight, but had never seen one. Marty… well, there was a large leap between “knowing” and “seeing” and he’d just made it in the last couple of hours. And none of them seemed fazed.
It took us another fifteen minutes to get a head count on the little demons that we could all agree on. Each of us took up a position more or less surrounding the Quinns, and Cam stood ready next to the mirror.
Unfortunately, the skuzzy little vermin were not being cooperative. We had to have them all within the confines of the mirror to get them all yanked across. One of them, maybe sensing its imminent demise, crept around just at the edges of its fellows, pausing to comb through its greasy mat of fur about every third step.
“Dammit, come on… scoot over…” It would scurry almost into frame, then hesitate, backing up a few steps. It seemed reluctant to stray too far from Zane and Oscar, but at the same time it was afraid to get too close.
“Here, maybe if I…” Watching himself in the large mirror, Zane held out his hand to the creature, palm up. Though there was nothing visible in the room with us, in the reflection we could watch the parasite sniff the kid’s hand, swaying on its three-toed feet in indecision.
Finally, it seemed to come to some conclusion, and clambered its way on to Zane’s hand, spindly legs scrabbling for purchase on his narrow arm.
The kid frowned a little. “I… can’t feel anything. Just cold. My fingers are cold.” Slowly, he retracted his hand until he was holding the little Scrap demon in his lap, and then it scuttled off to join its brethren in their constant exploration of the Quinns.
“Let’s get this show on the road before any more of them get adventurous.” I found a place above one of the demons, holding my sword just above the greasy little mop. I nodded to Cam. “Do it.”
With a good hard swing of a hammer, the glass shattered, falling out of the frame to fragment all over the floor. What followed looked like the greased pig chase from Hell. Literally. All we were lacking was the Benny Hill music.
The Scrap demons screamed as they were yanked into the physical world. Now, one of them is bad enough, but eleventeen of them screeching in unison was enough to almost deafen us. Even as they sprinted in every direction, I drove my sword down with both hands, feeling the crunch as it cracked the hard carapace and stuck in the wood floor. My first victim wriggled spastically for a heartbeat, then poofed into a small black cloud that dissipated almost immediately. I wrenched the blade free and went after another.
“Get ’em, boy!” Marty called encouragement to his dog even as his hatchet split one of the parasites in two. Duke didn’t need the urging, bellowing as he barreled into the knot of them. Scrap demons went flying everywhere as the big mutt whipped his head from side to side.
One of them made a scuttle for the kitchen cabinets, and I dove after it. “Get back here, you little-” It turned to hiss at me, toothy maw gaping. The venomous mouth took up almost the entirety of its greasy little body, the mop opening up to reveal rows upon rows of sharp, serrated teeth. One good sword thrust between the dentures, and it was so much blight, drifting back to where it came from.
I could hear the sickening cracks as one by one, the Scraps were reduced to their base essence, wafting away to darker realms. Will pinned one to the wall with the fireplace poker, and another attempted to clamber up his back, fleeing in blind panic. “Don’t move, Will!” Good man, he froze and I batted the thing off with my sword, in Cole’s direction. “Get it, little brother!”
“There’s one under the coatrack!” Oscar pointed, but Duke got there first, and there was a screech as the scruffy thing met its demise in the dog’s massive jaws. The coatrack itself… well, we could use it for kindling later.
A twitch in the curtains behind Marty caught my eye. “Marty, the curtains!”
The hatchet made a solid thunk as it buried itself in the wall, thrown with deadly accuracy, and the demon gave a sad little twitch as it died. I blinked at Marty, and he shrugged. “Blacksmiths do that.”
“Little help here!” Will had one on the run, but it was making a beeline for the fireplace. If it got up the chimney, we’d lose it. My buddy launched his poker at the creature, and it clanged against the hearth, sending brick
