The Covert Wolf

He started searching the bedrooms, opening drawers quietly, checking every corner. Upstairs in a small rose-colored bedroom, he ground to a halt, catching the scent of fear.

It rose over him in a wave, crashing into his senses and making his eyes water. Matt rubbed the heel of one palm into his chest, trying to ease the crushing weight.

Stronger by the closet. He opened the door and peered inside. A miasma of terror screamed into his mind.

Methodically, he searched the closet. Sorting through layers of clothing awash with the smell of mothballs and cedar, he lifted boxes and set them aside.

A hidden recess in the closet revealed a locked file box shielded with a pentagram. He pulled it out and broke the spell locking it with a simple incantation his C.O. had taught all the team.

He combed through the files, his gorge rising as he scanned them. Then he found a business ledger. His instincts were right. No Draicon had stolen the Orb.

Yet another reason not to trust any Fae. He pocketed the ledger and replaced the files.

As he went into the room, he caught sight of himself in the dressing table mirror. His form shimmered.

The glamour was fading. Fast.

He had to sneak out. Racing over options, he started for the bedroom door and heard pounding footsteps. Matt withdrew his Sig Sauer 9 mm pistol, cupping it with one hand. Sienna burst into the room and ground to a halt, staring at the gun’s barrel.

He sheathed the weapon as she gulped down a breath, eyes huge in her face. “We’ve got to leave, right now. I was talking with one of the cops when one of them suddenly … It was horrible. His form, it just … I don’t know …”

“Wobbled?”

She nodded. “Like when you throw a stone in water.”

He glanced at the window. “Where?”

“Downstairs. But I think he knew I could see through him. He may be another Fae. Or something else. The daughter, they were leading her out, she was screaming that a demon tortured her mother for information, and went too far, then set the daughter up to make it look like—”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “You did good. Where’s the rest of the police?”

“They’re all outside, since they’re done wrapping up the crime scene.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

The stench of sulfur grew stronger. Matt herded Sienna out of the room, grinding to a halt. He slid an arm around her waist and yanked her against him, away from the specter blocking the way at the hallway’s end.

The specter shimmered, losing the glamour of a police uniform.

They were screwed.

“Draicon. You have something I need,” the demon hissed. Then it smiled and held up a hand, tipped with long, gray talons.

Flames burned at the tip of each finger. Matt’s throat went drier than sand.

No way out past the pyrokinetic demon.

He and Sienna were going to fry.

Pulling his sidearm free, Matt screwed on the long barreled silencer, knowing gunfire would bring the cops running. He fired at the creature, hoping to slow it. But as the bullets whizzed at the demon, flames burst from its fingers.

The steel and silver-tinged bullets melted in midair. Sienna gasped. Damn it, the new ammo was specially designed to withstand the demons’ defenses. No dice.

They needed CO2. “You don’t happen to have a fire extinguisher handy in your bag of Fae tricks?” Matt unscrewed the silencer, and pocketed it with his service pistol. He pulled Sienna behind him.

“There’s a bathroom behind us. Let’s go, we need water, have to have water.”

“Water doesn’t kill them. Only puts out the fire and you need a lot of it. CO2 smothers their oxygen, keeps them from breathing.”

The ragged sound of her panting filled his ears. Panic radiated from her as Sienna stared at the demon. He could feel her pulse pounding, smell her fear. Knew the demon scented it, as well. They dined on terror.

“He’s going to burn us. We have to get out of here.”

“Stay calm,” he urged, backing her away from the demon.

Flames burst out of the demon’s fingers in a hiss, scorching the walls. A framed photo of the witch and her daughter began to burn. Then the demon turned and sprayed fire down the stairs, cutting off their exit.

Sienna whimpered, turning pale as milk. Matt gripped her hand. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You need to stay calm and don’t panic. We’ll get out of this.”

Smoke began filling the hallway. She coughed, and laughed. “We will? Okay, super lupus, guess it’s time for a weenie roast. Except I doubt you like having your weenie roasted.”

Putting up a brave front. Knew all about that. Had done it a time or two. His admiration kicked up a notch.

“Depends on who’s doing the roasting. Definitely not him.”

Matt turned, searching the hallway. At the end sat a cherrywood bookcase with leather-bound volumes. No good, but the covering …

The Indian weave table runner.

“Create a distraction. Talk to it. Feed its ego. Demons love having their ego stroked.”

“As long as you don’t ask me to stroke anything else,” she muttered.

“If something happens to me, get into that back bedroom and escape out the window. Drive as fast as you can to a place where you feel safe, and call that number on the card you got earlier.”

She coughed, nodded. “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” she whispered.

Sienna faced the demon as Matt backed up to the bookcase. “Hey, Officer Hot Stuff. That was some glamour you pulled. Never guessed you were a demon. Fooled the cops, too.”

Matt removed the runner, folded it behind his back. The demon smirked. “You’re a pretty one. You’ll look even nicer when I melt your face.” Sienna blanched.

“Enough. You found the witch’s ledger, Draicon? Give it to me and the girl lives. Perhaps.”

“These?” Matt pulled the book from his back jeans pocket. He ripped out a few pages, tossed them into the flames licking the walls. “Go get them.”

Screaming, the demon dove for the papers burning out of control. Matt pushed her to the side and whispered, “Get ready. On my word, conjure a fire extinguisher in my hands and run into the east side back bedroom.”

The demon raised its hands toward Matt, its slit of a mouth yawning open, showing daggerlike teeth. Timing was everything. If Sienna dropped the illusion, his ass would be cooked.