“Henry Blankenship and Esther Waters,” Eric said, pointing up toward Coastal Mists. “Henry had a stroke four days ago, but survived. Esther, a heart attack just yesterday morning. The staff doctor was able to revive her.”
“I bet he was,” I said, tilting my head to look up at the nursing home that had once been a prison for Eddie, who’d been stashed there by a band of determined demons set on discovering a secret he held.
When I’d first found Eddie there, I’d also discovered that many of the employees were demon “pets”—humans who know the score and are willing to take on tasks for demons in order to gain something. Usually money, but sometimes thedemons promised magic, invisibility, immortality, all those shiny goodies.
Most of the time, the promises were lies and the pets just ended up dead.
Humans, I’ve learned, can be pretty damn gullible.
“Shall we go up and have a chat with Esther and Henry?”
Eric shook his head. “I called Coastal Mists on the way to your place. Both of them have wandered away,” he said, adding air quotes around the last because, of course, we both knew that they hadn’t wandered at all, but deliberately left.
“That means family and the Coastal Mists staff will be looking for them, too,” I said.
“Staff, yes in theory, but we both know that place doesn’t have the manpower. It’ll fall to the local cops. And neither of them have family.”
“Which means we need to make sure no cop is around when we find them.” I shrugged. “That’s pretty much par for the course.” After all, when your primary weapon is a sharp stick through the eye, and your efforts to save mankind from the scourge of hell leave evidence that most people would think points to murder, avoiding the local cops ranks high on the mission plan.
“If they both skipped out on the nursing home, they’re probably holed up in town somewhere.” I glanced around, considering our options. “Let’s check the caves, then we can do a few passes in Old Town.” San Diablo doesn’t really have a downtown. A few miles inland, there are office buildings and shopping areas, and the tourist-friendly area near the beach is Old Town, with it’s classic-style theater, cute shops, and popular restaurants.
Suburban neighborhoods like mine arc around the town, the more expensive homes located on the coast, and the more affordable neighborhoods inland and abutting the hills. We liveclose to, but not on the beach, on the north side of town. An easy drive to Old Town, but not close enough to walk.
Inside the perimeter of relatively new construction, the town boasts neighborhoods near Old Town with cute cottages—like where Eric and I used to live—as well as incredibly ritzy areas tucked away in the cliffs. That’s where the Greatwater Mansion is, a rundown historic home from the Hollywood heyday that Stuart and Bernie thought they could fix up and then sell as a boutique hotel through their real estate development company.
Then, of course, a pissed off demon put a damper on those plans.
A fresh wave of guilt washed over me. It wasn’t my fault the place got destroyed—it wasn’t even Eric’s, though he was at the heart of it—but I still felt responsible.
“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s hunt them down.”
Immediately, Eric laughed.
“What?” I demanded. Turning to face him.
“You.” He didn’t say anything else, and I rolled my eyes. I’d never been a patient Hunter. Show me a demon, and I’ll go after it. Tell me I have to search them out, and I wonder why I even signed up for this gig. Of course, technically Ididn’tsign up for it. The first go-round, I was orphaned and raised byForza. The second, the demons pulled me back in by bursting through my window and attacking me in my kitchen. But even so, I could have walked away. I didn’t. I made the decision to stay in to protect my family, not to mention the world.
But that doesn’t mean I like the drudgery that comes with the job.
I sighed again, then lift a foot, showing off the comfy sneakers with awesome arch support I bought before we headed to Rome. “At least I have the appropriate footwear for tonight.”
Eric grinned. “Remember that summer in Paris? You were wearing the right footwear then, too.”
I had to clap my hand over my mouth to stop from barking out a laugh as I recalled that night. We’d taken out a nest of feral vamps and decided to celebrate our victory with an evening of dinner and dancing. I’d worn a pair of fabulous shoes that hurt my feet—but the stiletto heel came in handy when a demon attacked us on the way back to the hotel.
“How many names are on your list?” I asked as we continued north to where the boardwalk ended, giving way to a beach area often used for volleyball and picnics. We continued across the sand, Eric’s cane making indentions as we walked along.
There’s no additional lighting in this area, so we had the beach mostly to ourselves, as everyone not coming to the dark section to make out or hunt demons was on the beach area closer to the shops and restaurants. We moved as quickly as the rocks and uneven terrain let us, heading toward the narrow strip between the surf and the cliff base where we’d find series of small caves that provided some shelter even at high tide. I’d nailed more than a few demons there, and I make a point to always check it for strays.
As a rule, a demon’s going to prefer a comfy house. But especially when they’re newly turned, a demon will hole up anywhere while it’s getting its bearings.
“I pulled fifteen names,” Eric said, and I paused to look at him, shocked by the number.
“Fifteen?”
“Of course, two of them are in my trunk already.”
“When we take out Henry and Esther, we’ll be below a dozen. But that’s still a lot for a town this size.” I shook my head, already exhausted from the thought of non-stop demon hunting. “We really need to make a pact to not leave town at the same time again ever.”
