Blood Price

clutching the AK-47
    with enough force to turn his fingers white. " I called your name! I AM THE MASTER! YOU
    WILL NOT IGNORE ME! YOU WON'T! YOU WON'T! YOU WON'T!"

    The short burst sprayed across the pentagram, almost cutting the Demon Lord in half.
    Howling with rage, it lost control of its form, becoming again the maelstrom Of darkness it had been at the beginning.

    Firearm violation, Vicki though muzzily, as the slugs tore up the kitchen cabinets behind her.

    The noise startled Coreen into full consciousness. With panicked strength she began to fight against her bonds, throwing herself violently from side to side, bouncing the chair legs inches off the floor at a time.

    Like night falling in on itself, the Demon Lord reformed and the temperature in the apartment plunged. It smiled, showing great curved teeth it hadn't had before. Once again, Norman began jerking toward it.

    The lights came on, throwing the scene into sharp relief, and a voice yelled, "Freeze!
    Police!"

    The first instant of frozen expressions was almost funny, then Henry raised a hand to shield his eyes, the Demon Lord spun about to face a new adversary, and Norman raced toward the door, screaming, "No, it's mine! You can't stop me! It's mine!"

    Coreen's leg came free of the socks at last. As Norman passed, she kicked out.

    He fought for balance, arms flailing. The grimoire dropped to the floor. A second later, Norman fell into the pentagram.

    Then Norman wasn't anymore, but his scream lingered for a heartbeat or two.

    Mike Celluci stood at the light switch, his .38 in one hand, the other, under no conscious volition, making the sign of the cross. "Jesus H. Christ," he breathed into the sudden silence.
    "What the hell is going on in here?"

    The Demon Lord turned to face him. "But that's it exactly, Detective. Hell is going on in here."

    This was worse than anything Celluci could have imagined. He hadn't seen the punk with the assault rifle disappear into thin air. He didn't see the thing standing in the middle of the room smiling.

    But he had. And he did.

    Then he caught sight of Yield and all the strangeness became of secondary importance.

    "Who did this?" he demanded, moving to her side and dropping to one knee. "What is going on in here!" The question came out sounding more than a bit desperate the second time around.
    While he felt her throat for a pulse, he kept the Demon Lord covered-the direction of the threat obvious after what he'd seen as he came in.

    "Pretty much exactly what it looks like," Henry told him. Clearly the stalwart officer of the law was a friend of Vicki's. What he thought he was doing here could be settled later. "That is a Demon Lord. He just destroyed the . . . person who called him and we're in a great deal of trouble."

    "Trouble?" Celluci asked, not bothering at the moment with whether he believed all this or not.

    "Yes," said the Demon Lord, and stepped out of the pentagram. It effortlessly pulled the gun from Celluci's hand and tossed it out the window.

    Celluci watched it go, there being nothing else he could do, then with lips a thin, pale line he bent over Vicki, ignoring the cold sweat that beaded his entire body, ignoring the terror that held his heart in an icy fist, ignoring everything but the one thing he could change. Fighting the knots out of the ties, he bound up her wrist with the first one he got free.

    "It won't do any good," the Demon Lord observed. With all attention focused on Vicki, it sidled sideways, whirled around, and dove for the grimoire.

    Henry got there first, scooped up the book, and backed away with it. To his surprise, the Demon Lord snarled but let him go. "You have no power," he realized. "You're in this world without power."

    "The invocation is not finished," the Demon Lord admitted, its eyes still on the book, "until the woman dies."

    "Then the invocation will never be finished." Brute strength forced the bindings off her legs and Celluci threw the ties across the room with unnecessary force.

    "It will be finished very soon." the Demon Lord pointed out. "She is dying,"

    "No she isn't," Celluci growled, easing Vicki's limp body over onto her back.

    Yes, I am. Vicki wished she could feel the hand cupping her face, but she hadn't been able to feel anything for some time. Her eyes itched, but she didn't have the strength to blink. She wished it wasn't happening this way. But she'd given it her best shot. Time to rest.

    Then the Demon Lord raised its head and