Demon Night

Jane sat up, wiped at her face. “Why don’t we pull off here?”
    Woodland. A small town, but it was right off the highway, so there’d probably be something open.
    “Okay,” Charlie said. “Are you hungry?”
    “No. Are you?”
    “Yes.” Charlie bared her fangs, clicked her teeth lightly together a few times, but couldn’t quite hide the truth behind it. “We should pick up a few things first. Food for you tomorrow. A book, because there won’t be any TV.”
    “What will you do?”
    Ethan had said something about daysleep. “I think I’ll sleep. But I don’t know what that means.”
    “If you’re hungry, will you attack me while you’re unconscious?”
    “I don’t know.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Maybe I’ll lock myself in the bathroom.”
    Jane was silent for a tense moment. “Why don’t you just take some of my blood—”
    “No.”
    “I don’t care. And if you can heal me, it’s no big deal—”
    It burst from her. “Except I’ll end up screwing you!”
    They stared at each other, until Jane clapped her hands over her eyes and bent forward. “Oh, Jesus, Charlie!” Her amusement was light and sweet, like the trill of a piccolo; her laughter was much heavier, deep and rolling.
    Charlie grinned, turned back to the road. “Shut up.”
    “I guess I don’t love you that much!”
    “Fuck you. Yes, you do.”
    That only made Jane laugh harder, but by then Charlie was having a difficult time controlling her laughter, too.
    Yet a sour note lay beneath it, and not until they’d shielded themselves in the little motel room did Charlie realize what it was: desperation. They’d needed the laugh, but the edge of hysteria lingered longer than the amusement did.
    The bed frame sat on the floor, with no room beneath it. The small closet had no door. If she locked herself in the bathroom, Jane wouldn’t be able to use it.
    And Charlie wanted nothing more than to sit down and cry.
    Nothing more than to suck someone dry.
    At least Ethan had called. His message had been brief; he hadn’t said how he was doing.
    But he was alive. Her phone hadn’t recorded the incoming number to return the call, but she thought if she hadn’t heard from him, she probably would be sobbing by now, not just feeling like it.
    “Take the bed, Charlie,” Jane said, closing the drapes. She’d had four messages from Sammael on Charlie’s phone; Charlie had had to convince her not to listen to them. Now resignation and grief hung around Jane, tinged by uncertainty and fear. “I won’t be able to sleep, anyway. And it’s almost dawn.”
    “But what if—”
    “Do you think that flimsy little door will stop you?” Jane waved at the bathroom.
    Charlie shook her head, and shoved her hands into her sweatshirt pouch. Ethan’s feather slid between her fingers.
    A tingling began at the back of her neck. Instinct drove her to the bed, and she dug under the blankets, making certain she was covered. The sun. She had felt the sun coming up, and now it was dragging her down.
    Clutching the feather to her chest, hunger burning in her fangs and cramping in her stomach, she fell into sleep.
    And kept falling, into dreams that were stained with crimson: Jane’s blood, Ethan’s blood, and a demon’s red, red eyes.

CHAPTER 16
    Just about everyone at SI was watching him careful, talking gently as if they expected him to start bawling at the least little upset. After Becca rolled up her usual snarky tone and asked him quiet-like if he was doing all right, and she’d heard about his brother, and was there anything they could do to help him locate Charlie, Ethan began to look forward to the bite Lilith’s dog was sure to take out of his hindquarters.
    Except when he walked into Castleford and Lilith’s office, both she and Sir Pup grinned at him. Her three-headed hellhound had just as many sets of wickedly sharp teeth, but it was Lilith’s gleaming smile that had him pausing, suddenly wary.
    Ethan caught Castleford’s eyes. “Should I turn tail?”
    “That will depend on what you have to tell us.” Castleford closed the book he’d been holding and dropped it to his desk. “But as of this moment, no.”
    Lilith slung her leg over the arm of her chair and leaned back, still grinning. “A winged man landing on top of a moving vehicle on a busy street. A man in a duster crawling around the top of said vehicle, shooting at the tires. A man sliding down the front of the hood, disappearing