Wrath of the Demon Girl Read online

  I groaned. “One girl, I told her to get lost.”

  “Shit.” Jim reached for his pistol. “I don’t like loose ends.”

  “Jim!”

  “Reika, you’re paying me to clean up, that means witnesses.”

  “No!”

  “My reputation—”

  “I’ll handle it, just clean this shit up.” I went for the door again, this time for good. “And don’t get any of that blood on you for the love of God.”

  The club beats vibrated off my body while I pushed my way past the ocean of hot guys grooving their hips to the rhythm of the music and hotter girls shaking their asses. They were oblivious to the fixer in the women’s washroom covering up my handiwork, made possible by my magical talents, and oblivious to the invisible war I’ve been waging the past seven months against the remnants of Lucifer’s failed demonic invasion. Jim included.

  As far as Jim was concerned, I was offing people for revenge. I was once a Yakuza member after all. Jim was smart enough to not ask too many questions, he was a fixer, and I paid him to help make dead demon bodies vanish. Jim likes money, and Jim knows the best way to get it is to keep his mouth shut and accept jobs I offer him.

  I might tell him the truth one day, but for the time being it was safer if fewer people knew of my special powers. In some strange fucked-up way, I became a crime-fighting, vigilante superhero. Most demons stuck to the criminal underworld, even if they possessed bodies of people that lived honest lives, like the man I just whacked. Demons avoided living the nice simple life, like a person with a peanut allergy without an epinephrine pen avoids the peanut butter factory. I never understood why they acted this way. Perhaps it was the natural and chaotic nature of demons that lured them to it, or maybe it was something else I didn’t understand, I hoped it was the former.

  I searched the dance floor for the blonde girl that ran away, turning down at least six drunk guys that wanted me to grind with them. I couldn’t see her, and honestly, I had my doubts she would return to dancing and drinking after an experience like that. The fact that the bouncers stayed put at their posts meant she left without saying anything. That, or the bouncers were just bad at their jobs, a man did enter the women’s washroom behind a young, lone girl after all, one who was two or three years too young to be clubbing to start with.

  I shrugged and left, still keeping my arms close to my body as I made my exit past the lineup of partygoers waiting to be let in. What became of the girl was out of my hands for the time being. My primary concern was creating as much distance from the club as possible before someone discovered the dead body. Homicide will no doubt be called in, I needed to not be linked with it. I did, after all, kind of work for the NYPD as a side gig. Paranormal specialist by day with a detective as my partner, paranormal PI and vigilante demon hunter by night with a fixer to cover up my work, two jobs that needed to be kept separate as much as possible.

  I made my way across Midtown Manhattan, better known as Hell’s Kitchen, arriving at a decent luxury apartment. It reminded me of the one Lexi used to live in, pretentious interior, and full of people who make way too much money. I got buzzed in and rode the elevator up to one of the central suites. An attractive brunette in her mid-thirties let me into her place, Ms. Miroslava Ivanov, my client. She paid no mind to the blood on my sleeves as I entered, glancing at the glorious adjacent high-rise buildings and their lights from the curtain-less floor to ceiling windows in the living room.

  From my purse I took the wedding ring I snatched from the demon, cleaned of course, not that there’d been any blood on it. “Ask and ye shall receive.”

  She took the ring from me, giving it an emotional stare. “Thank you so much.” Her Russian accent was pleasing to hear.

  Miroslava went for her purse on the kitchen countertop and produced a big-ass stack of green notes handing it off to me. I counted it twice and smiled, despite the fee I had to pay Jim, I still came out with profit. “It won’t bring my husband back, but it’s nice to know I have this ring to remember him.”

  “Thanks,” I said, holding up the cash.

  “I’ll recommend your services.”

  My payment plopped into the bottom of my purse. “Eh, I like to keep things on the down-low.”

  Her lips curled. “There are people out there that need you for stuff like this.”

  With my phone in hand and my purse over my shoulder, I went for the front door. “There’s the paranormal division with the NYPD.”

  “They weren’t convinced this was paranormal related.” I knew all about that.

  I first discovered her case from Gabe upon learning he deemed it not worth the paranormal team’s attention. Truth was, the field team of the paranormal investigation division consisted of Gabe, a half-dozen other officers, and from time to time, me, as a consultant. There’s only so much they could do, and more often than not, the cases brought before them were small-time demons or their worshippers. It wasn’t worth the effort, when there were bigger threats to suppress.

  When Gabe says no, I say yes in secret when the sun sets, especially if clients contact me over the paranormal team. Every demon tracked puts lots of money in pockets, I like money. It also takes out a demon the paranormal team failed to deal with because of a bad call.

  “Did he . . . suffer?” she added.

  I stopped before the front door, keeping my face away from her. “Your husband, or the demon that killed him to take his body?”

  “Perhaps I shouldn’t know.”

  “I got the ring back for you like you asked, let’s leave it at that.”

  I departed from the Ivanov residence. My face was glowing with happiness that another job was finished, and more cash made its way into my hands. Rather than taking the elevator down to the lobby, I made my way upward, way up, to the rooftop.

  Once up top, I leaned my body against a rooftop exhaust unit almost the size of me. I took in the sights of Manhattan’s splendorous view, the sounds of roaring planes in the skies, the usual mess in the streets below, and the warm air the early June weather provided, summer was coming. I could see Lexi’s place across town, the penthouse suite where she taught me how to develop my powers further. Where we frolicked around with sinful lust on the couch, when she controlled my mind with her succubus powers. It was a fact I was still struggling to accept.

  I began to conjure a list of things I’d give away in a heartbeat for the chance to travel back in time to that day. I never finished the list though as my cell phone buzzed, interrupting me. Checking the screen, I saw Emily’s caller identification appear, yeah, I probably should have been home by now.

  I picked up the call. “What’s up?”

  “I should be asking you that.”

  “I’ll be home right now.”

  “Good, I’m hungry.”

  I waved my hand in a circular motion around me as I ended the call. I tapped into the force of the spirit element and watched a rectangular-shaped doorway materialize from nowhere. Within the doorway was my living room, Emily was lying on the couch with the TV on. It was the return-home talent, the number one reason why I leave the car in the parking garage.

  I stepped through the magical doorway and returned to my home on the other side of the city. The doorway disintegrated into a plume of Umbral energy by my command.

  Home sweet home.

  Chapter Three

  “Reika,” a voice called out to me as I slept.

  It was a voice I hadn’t heard in ages, it sounded like Lexi’s. It sounded like incentive to wake up and figure out how, and why, she was in my room. That’s when my brain made the switch back into the realm of reality, the realm of living, paying bills, and wondering if the day was going to be good or shit, and the reality that Lexi was gone. I tried to lift my body from my bed. I didn’t get very far since the source of the last person that called my name was sitting on me, lightly slapping my cheeks.

  It was Emily, my roommate-slash-demon-cat. “Wake up.”

  I push
ed her off and watched as her cat ears and tail attached to her human body reacted. “Emily, what the fuck.”

  “We’re out of cereal.”

  “We have bacon and eggs in the fridge.” I shrouded my body back into the cocoon of blankets I had slept in. Forgot to turn the A/C on low for the night, it was cold as fuck.

  “I can’t cook, you can.” Emily wasn’t having it and yanked the blankets away, exposing my blue nightgown and Yakuza-tattooed body. “Feed me, damn it!”

  I gave her my response with my finger, the middle one of course. Emily made a sound that sounded like an angry meow and left my room. I exhaled with happiness that Emily had clothes on this time, which meant she had been in her human form for some time. She may have been a Bakeneko, but still possessed typical cat habits, like wanting to be fed early as fuck in the morning.

  She had a tendency to sleep as a cat, pounce on me, then shift into her human form when I didn’t wake up, in which case she’d be naked. That was a damn near daily occurrence unless we had leftovers lying around.

  I heard traditional Japanese music play from our laptop in the living room as Emily entered. She was performing her morning exercise, which explained why she was clothed. It was that discovery that paved the way for me to sneak in a few more minutes of snooze time.

  It lasted a whole five minutes when a voice told me. “You need to get up, sleepyhead.” It sounded like Lexi’s voice, but I knew better. I must have been dreaming when I heard her voice earlier, and—

  Then, I felt the soft touch of Lexi’s hand stroke my face.

  I leaped out of my bed faster than a cheating housewife who realized her husband came home early. Two seconds later, my dagger was in my hands searching for an intruder. I shared this apartment with Emily who was in the living room, who the fuck else was here?

  The answer? Nobody, at least not from what my eyes could see as I scanned the layout of my simplistic bedroom. I didn’t bother to check under the bed since it was a low profile one, my closet turned up no results, other than my wide array of attire consisting of hipster stuff, hoodies, dresses, sexy dresses, business wear, and wigs, lots and lots of wigs. With my line of work, one could never be sure what type of situation you’d run into.

  Shutting the closet door, I looked at myself in the full-length mirror mounted onto it. I kept the short, dyed blonde hair, trying to make it my signature when I approached demons and their devoted followers with the intent to make them regret ever being born. After confirming there were no intruders, I placed my weapon away and forced my barefooted self into the kitchen. I was up and about now, may as well.

  I still wasn’t sure what the hell touched and spoke to me back there. I’d say it was stress, if only I had been doing any sort of work. The downside of working as an informant for the NYPD’s paranormal team; they only call if there’s weird shit going on they need help with. As for my PI stuff? No clients, meant no work, the case I finished last night officially cleared my backlog and it was by no means a stressful task.

  The apartment Emily and I shared was located in Upper East Side New York. It was open concept, which was why I was able to hear the music so clearly. It was a nice upgrade for the two of us, kindly lent to us by Jim, as it was one of many safe houses he owned in the city. Central Park’s glory was visible from the living room windows as morning sunlight began to shine through. The sun was rising earlier and earlier as the days went on, classic early June mornings.

  Emily stood center stage, engaged in a martial arts stance, swinging her arms and hands around to the sound of traditional Japanese music, practicing her moves and sharpening her skills with ninjutsu katas. Every morning I watched her do this, and asked myself, how long will it be before she trips over her tail?

  “I don’t smell breakfast yet,” Emily heckled.

  “I’m working on it . . .”

  “Work faster, I’m hungry.”

  I entered the kitchen, only to be drawn away by subtle vibrations of my phone rattling on the counter. Jim’s name and number appeared on its screen, breakfast could wait.

  Putting the phone to my ear, I answered, hearing Jim’s cheerful voice. “Hey, Reika.”

  “What is it, Jim? You know I’m not a morning person.”

  “I’ll cut right to the chase then! Last night kept me awake all night.”

  “Sorry, didn’t realize the clean-up job was going to be that bad.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t the clean-up job. I managed to slip out with the body long before anyone realized what happened.”

  “With all those people in the club?”

  “I did it when they were shutting down, people were too fucking drunk and tired to notice me do my thing. What’s keeping me awake, is the loose ends, though. Reika, it’s buggin’ me.”

  “I said I’ll handle it.”

  “Here’s the thing. Personally, I don’t give a shit about that girl, she never saw me.”

  “Then you got nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh, but I do, that phone call . . .”

  “I’m alive and so are you, we’re good.”

  “I’m meeting with a new client soon.”

  “And I care because?”

  “He’s Russian, as was the man you whacked whose phone was listening to us talk.”

  “Like I said, why do I care?” Jim really needed to stop beating around the bush and get to the point. I had a demon cat to feed.

  “Because, Wayne hasn’t gotten back to me.”

  And then came the bombshell, Wayne is a weapons dealer we frequently used. He had good deals on small arms and bullets, all illegal, and all of it saved my life a dozen times when my magical talents weren’t cutting it. Demons and their human worshipers didn’t fuck around, especially the ones that were part of Lucifer’s faction, as a few of them still rocked automatic weapons they somehow acquired last fall.

  “I see,” I replied slowly after a long pause.

  “Have you heard from him?” Jim eagerly asked. “I’d really hate for him to get targeted because of us.”

  “I’m planning to meet up with him today.”

  “Let me know if he’s okay. Last I heard he was going to see a hooker, been radio silence since.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Let’s not forget that call—”

  “Jim, stop worrying.”

  “All right, whatever you say. By the way, if you need to get a hold of me, I’ll be busy with my client near the beach. If you don’t hear from me again, well.”

  The call ended and I spent the next two minutes convincing myself everything was going to be fine, and that Wayne was going to get back to my text messages.

  “All I hear is a quiet kitchen,” Emily heckled. I threw an empty plastic water bottle at her. It was aimed at her head. Her ninja reflexes made her body pivot and grab it, no sounds were made.

  “What did you do for food before me?” I asked as I went for the fridge.

  “Brianna always kept my dish full.”

  Emily had a tendency to pose as a normal cat before she met me. Her previous owner had been some demon hunter named Brianna who entered the country from Europe illegally thanks to the Irish mob. I kind of burned her house down last fall, which probably sent Brianna into hiding, leaving Emily with no place to stay. Five hundred year old Bakenekos don’t normally get approved for apartment rentals.

  I honestly didn’t care that she was mooching off me, it meant less things went missing in the homes throughout the city. Pretty easy to rob people blind when they take you in, thinking you’re a stray cat. Then they leave you alone in the house for the day, only to return and discover stuff missing. I’m speaking from experience, of course.

  I threw down a half-full pack of bacon on the counter top next to an egg carton. “I’m gonna get you cat food after this.”

  Emily’s tail straightened while her fists clenched. “That requires me to be a cat to eat it!”

  “So?”

  She stormed into the kitchen, taking a seat at a cha
ir next to the counter top. “I haven’t been able to get this much practice in years. I’m always stuck as a feline when indoors.”

  “Can’t have those pesky humans know what you are.”

  Emily’s cat sights shifted down to my resting dagger I had brought out with me. “So, what’s with the dagger?”

  I winced. “Wish I could say . . .”

  “I heard you get all jumpy, I’m going to guess you had that with you.”

  “I thought I heard a voice that shouldn’t be here.”

  “Was it Lexi?”

  “No—”

  “Don’t lie to me.” Emily’s hand smacked into my forehead and rested there for some time. “That love spell Lexi put on you still has some lingering effects.”

  I swatted her arm away. “Whatever.”

  “Reika, you’ve been making great progress ridding yourself of the charm Lexi put on you with our meditations. Even got you to admit you did things you normally wouldn’t do.”

  Such as asking Jim to horde demonic blood and keep it in storage. On that note, I should probably tell him to destroy it before it ends up in the wrong hands, while I’m sane enough to bring myself to ask him to do so.

  “I’m fine, Emily; I was just looking at her place last night. It brought back some memories.”

  “What kind of memories?” I flushed at her question when dirty thoughts of Lexi and I flashed before my eyes. Emily grimaced. “Boomshakalaka memories, huh? That’s not good, you’re relapsing.”

  “I’m over that mind fuck, trust me. I just wanna pay bills and not worry about demons.”

  “Meditate with me more or you’ll never recover. Most women recover from an incubus encounter in a few weeks, men recover from a succubus in roughly the same time. A succubus using their magic on a woman is something I’ve never seen in the five hundred years I’ve been around. It’s been months, and you haven’t completely recovered, I’m worried.”