Page 90 of Dead Beat

She had known not to trust this man, but hope had made her slow. Hope and shame, the wanting of something you should be strong enough not to want. And now there was a knife inside her.

The tea set crashed to the parlor floor. Alex heard Dawes scream, heard Darlington shout. Dimly she realized he was the demon again, his golden horns shining. The light of the room had turned blue and Alex knew she must be ablaze with hellfire.

Her father. Her father was shoved against the parlor wall, Darlington’s massive clawed hand at his throat.

Dawes was beside her, clutching her bleeding fingers. She’d tried to stop the blade, Alex realized. Dawes had tried to block Huilca’s strike.

“Thank you,” Alex whispered.

Dawes nodded. She looked shocked, frightened, her eyes wide and wet with tears.

“Call an ambulance,” Darlington rumbled.

“Don’t,” Alex said. Her voice didn’t sound quite right. She could do better. “Don’t,” she repeated. “I’m okay.”

The knife was sticking out of the meat of her left shoulder. It felt like a spear of fire. She was a moth pinned to the page. Someone would come to press her between the covers of a book and leave her there to wither.

She blinked, forced her eyes to focus.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Are you okay, Dawes?”

Dawes nodded, but she had started to cry. “It’s not that bad.”

“This is the second time you saved my life.”

Dawes frowned. “Did I?”

She had reached out to block the blade, as if she could stop it with her hand. She had forced its momentum away from Alex’s heart.

“The tea set,” Alex said. She knew it wasn’t important, but there was something awful about the shards of cups and saucers spread like fallen petals on the floor. “Shit.”

“It’s not the good set,” Dawes said, wrapping a linen napkin around her hand. “He doesn’t get the good dishes.”

Luis Huilca’s eyes pinged back and forth between his daughter and the demon about to choke him, his expression caught between terror and disbelief.

“Don’t kill him,” Alex said.

“You’re sure?” Darlington asked, giving her father’s body a light shake. She liked the growl in his voice.

“For now.”

He eased his grip.

Huilca sucked in air, still trying to shove Darlington’s arm away. “What are you? What have you done?”

Alex tried to laugh, but it hurt too much. She made herself rise. She pulled the knife from her shoulder.

“Alex!” Dawes cried.

Blood spurted over her T-shirt.

“Fuck,” Alex gasped. “That may have been a mistake.” She felt her gorge rise, swallowed hard.

“You opened a portal,” her father was saying. “You trafficked with demons. You … What did you do?”

Alex felt a surge of anger rush through her, clearing her thoughts, bringing her body back to life with a live-wire jolt, a much-needed jump in an empty parking lot.

She made herself focus on the man before her.