Demon's Grace Ch. 28-31

I blinked and slowly walked back into the house. I didn't look at them as I passed. Automatically I cleaned up the kitchen and walked into my bedroom. From there I picked up my weapons and proceeded outside to train. Neither of them came out and I was glad for their absence. I continually had to refocused myself when I thought about the implications of what Ezra said.

Finally I stopped. The heat was too much and my thoughts were getting to me. I frantically rushed into the house and showered. My only option was to get out of the house and away from them. I couldn't sense Taurin anywhere, but Ezra was in the summoning room talking with someone. I didn't want to see who. I hopped into the jeep with my suitcase and left my cabin behind without leaving a word or note. I laughed at the thought, they were demons, what did they care.

When I got to Seattle I booked a hotel room for three nights. Evening was approaching and I felt like I was in the midsts of an identity crisis. I sat in a family restaurant close to the hotel and decided that I was going to have fun for two nights. At the hotel I changed into the sexiest clothes I had and, I thought, did a damn good job on the sultry look with my makeup. I sheathed all my weapons on me but the biggest blade and flew out of the hotel to hail a cab. Through the window I watched the city lights go by until the cab stopped and I saw the partially hidden sign for the club Zanzibar. It was named after the owner, although not his legal one, no one had figured that out yet. There was a running bet that never ended.

He was a demon hunter who didn't hunt demons. His club was populated by hunters and demons. Demons were tolerated because those were Zanzibar's rules. Trouble, in any form, was not tolerated. Demons were usually out numbered at the bar and I didn't quite understand why they would come. Lately though, I was starting to truly understand a demon's idea of fun, their lust for unpredictability. I walked into the barely lit alley and through the steel door. A bouncer sat on a stool as I walked through the torn curtains. He checked my ID and weapons' permit and waved me on. I wasn't a regular and it showed by the looks from the patrons.

I weaved myself through the people to get to one of the bars at the back. Tables were scattered around and candlelight flickered everywhere. Glowing neon seemed to drip down the black walls and music played at a non screaming level. Televisions were scattered on the walls and a B- movie was playing on mute with closed caption. I glanced at the screen momentarily and saw a girl get killed by an eggplant. The woman behind the bar brought me my drink and I drank it slowly, diverting my attention between people and the movie. By the time I was done more patrons had entered and walked past me down the stairs. I swung off the bar stool and followed their lead.

The light on the stairway was better and the music was louder. This was the basement dance floor. Just before the opening of the floor there was a huge, blackened cork board on both sides of the arched entrance. One side dealt with the dead, the other for the living. Notes, pictures, and mementos decorated both sides. I stopped and scanned the names. Reflecting on the life of demon hunters. Then I entered my haven.

People swayed, pounded, and stomped to loud music. There were less tables and more people standing against walls and pillars or leaning over rail ledges. Glass spheres were scattered and anyone could dance in them. Raised platforms where others sat. Lights flashed and writing was illuminated on walls from black lights. Tarot cards were stapled haphazardly on supports.

I went to the bar and ordered another drink. This time I leaned against the bar and watched people dancing. I was on my third drink of the night and feeling better when a man sided up to me. He wore glasses and had a few gray touches threaded through his brown hair. His smile was genuine and friendly. He placed his drink behind him and leaned his elbows on the bar.

"Hi."

"Hi," I replied without looking at him.

"I haven't seen you around here." His

voice held a slight southern accent that warmed.

"I haven't been around here a lot." I took a sip from my drink.

"New to Seattle?" He inquired innocently.

"Not really, you?"

He looked at me from the sides of his eyes and smiled, "No."

"Oh." The music filled the silence between us.

"Are you a demon hunter," he finally asked as he reached for his drink.

I watched him drink and waited until he was done before speaking. "Why do you ask?

"

He gave me a huge smile. "Do you know where you are?"

"Do I look like a demon hunter?" I was beginning to feel insecure with my profession, the whole incident with the hell hound came flooding back to me and I felt my eyes get watery.

"Jesus, how much have you had to drink? Are you about to cry?"

I took a deep breath and shook my hands in front of him. "No, no. It's been a long couple days, weeks...months."

He smiled at me again and placed his arm around me. He gave me a side hug. It felt like being hugged by a tree. I angled my chin at him. "Are you a demon hunter?"

"You first."

"Yes I am. I can kill any demon I see." I was trying to reassure myself in a drunken sort of way.

He gave me an amused look. "Are you sure? Because if you're not it's ok. You don't have to have anything to do with demons to be in this bar."

I frowned and my eyes filled up with water again. My mouth opened to say something.

The man interrupted me. "No. Stop. No more, I can't stand to see a woman cry. To me your a demon hunter, and even if you're not, you are tonight. You carry enough weapons to be one anyway." He smiled at me and rubbed his knuckles under my chin. He pulled me closer and, being in a drunken state, I let him comfort me.

"Let me tell you about the bar." He scanned the bar as if it was a familiar woman. He moved his head to indicate a huge black man moving to the beat of the music. His combat boots stomped on the floor and his shaved head moved back and forth.

"That's Luke. He comes here as often as he can. If dancing was on the second floor he'd shake the ceiling. If he's in the mosh pit," He looked at me and shook his head, "stay away. His attitude is as mean as his dancing." He pointed with the hand around my shoulder. "That's Patrick."

I watched the man he pointed to swagger around the edges of the dance floor. He was tall and lithe, but muscular with orange spiked hair, a red flannel wrapped around his waist.

"We call him Punk." He gave me a pointed look, "Because he is. He does contract work and odd jobs."

I reached for my drink and found it full again. "What do you mean, contract work?"

The man pursed his lips and looked at me. "Tell me again who you are?"

"Dove. Who are you?" I took a swallow and enjoyed the burn down my throat.

"I'm Zanzibar."

"No shit! You're the owner of the bar. The demon hunter who doesn't hunt demons! How do you keep them from coming after you?!"

Zanzibar smiled wide, "Years of practice. So, Dove, you really a demon hunter?"

I weaved a little in his warm embrace. "Yeah."

"Well, if you want to hold your weapons behind the bar or at the coat check you can. Many do and many don't. I suppose it depends on who's gunnin' for you, but I don't like to have fights in my bar. Bad for business. Anyone looking for you?" He gave me serious eyes.

I cocked my head at him, "Aren't they always?"

He laughed heartily, "Sure are. Anyway, Punk. He does contract work on demons so if you're too squeamish to do illegal hunts he'll do it for you." We both looked to the left at the table Punk was now sitting at.

"That's his girl, Bri. She's a demon hunter from Ireland. If her accent goes down like smooth whiskey his fake one goes down like cough syrup." He looked at me again. "We all wonder why she's with him. We think it has something to do with his shillelagh," he chuckled.

I gave Zanzibar a questioning look. He waved behind the bar at a black walking stick leaning against the mirrored wall. "It's a weapon. He likes that fact that it has something to do with Ireland. He's got an obsession. His weapons of choice are guns though."

"That doesn't get you close enough to the demon."

Zanzibar gave a grim smile, "He likes living on the edge. He'll tell you how exciting it is to get close to a demon when you don't know if it's out or not so you can give the final chant."

I grimaced.

"Like I said, he's a young punk," Zanzibar continued.

I looked at my glass and saw that it was empty.

"You driving tonight?" He drawled.

"Taxi."

"Want another?"

"No, just water."

He nodded and signaled to the bartender. The tour of the bar went on. I found myself feeling better than I had in awhile. "Now, tell me about you."

"There's nothing to tell. I'm boring."

Zanzibar laughed around his drink, "There is no such thing as a boring hunter. If that's what you are."

"Hmph. What do you want to know?"

"Why are you drowning your sorrows in my bar?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You know the saying, 'Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me'?"

"Yeah."

I straightened up and smiled wryly at him, "Well, shame on me." I walked to the dance floor and stomped to the music with the rest of the crowd. I spotted Regina through the weaving of the sweaty bodies and decided to say hi. I made my unsteady way to the platform she was sitting on. She was swaying to the beat while sitting and swinging her feet back and forth. "It looks like you had as much to drink as I have."

"Dove," she slurred happily. "Are you drunk too?"

I laughed, "I think so." I sat next to her. "How long have you been here?"

"Umm... A lonngg time. Vi's here," She looked around distractedly, "somewhere. Who cares though, maybe he won't come home with me tonight. Where are your keepers?"

My face frowned at her choice of words, "They're not my keepers and I have no fucking idea where they are. And, I could care less about them."

"Yeah!" She pushed into me and then gave me a sober look. "I think they sent him to watch me. He's always watching me."

I looked at her lithe, black leather clad body pointedly.

"No, no, no, not like that. They sent him to watch me," she said in a conspirator whisper.

I leaned into her, "Who sent him?"

"The demons on the Affairs'," she said adamantly.

"You think they ordered him to bind with you? Why?" My brain worked through the haze of alcohol slowly. I had a feeling she was telling me something important.

She cleared her throat and drank from her glass. "Because I'm saving their souls."

I squinted my eyes at her, "Whose souls?"

Her eyes widened and she took another drink, "The demons! They all need saving!" She gave me scary fanatic look, "Do you need saving? Because I know there's something different about you now."

I was speechless so it was a good thing she continued.

"My angel showed me how to save souls." Her face and eyes shined with adoration at her words.

My jaw dropped and I looked at her in amazement. "Holy shit," I whispered. "How are you doing that?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not doing anything now because Vi is always watching me. They sent him! Oh crap, here he comes." She looked up at the ceiling in exasperation.

I looked in front of us and watched him move forward with two drinks in his hand. He smiled politely and handed a drink to each of us. Regina swallowed half of hers while I sipped cautiously. His white hair was bound back in a french braid and his tanned skin was framed all in white. White boots went up to his knees and his collar was open at the neck. His eyes shone like emeralds in the darkened room.

"Vi," I said for a greeting.

He continued to smile, "Dove."

"Trying to get your date drunk so she'll profess her love to you and give you some," I said blandly.

Regina protested in drunken astonishment, "Dove!"

He smiled and said nothing.

I eyed him wearily.

"Hey, you two szzhould dance. You, all in white, Dove, all in black. It will be like ying and yang."

I sipped my drink and looked at Regina, "Regina, over half of the club is in black and it's yin, not ying."

"So." She pushed at me in a 'go' gesture that caused me to roll my eyes. Vi placed his hand palm up in front of me. I gave him a suspicious look and Regina took my hand and placed it in his. I acquiesced with an annoyed sigh and let Vi pull me to the dance floor. We ended up by one of the walls and Vi moved in enough so that he was chest to chest with me.

"You wouldn't be thinking about desecrating the neutral ground of Zanzibar would you?" I asked.

Vi surrounded me with his arms and maneuvered me against the wall, one leg between mine. "Are you?" He asked.

"No." I responded.

"Good." He ground his thigh lightly into the junction of my legs.

I sneered and pushed at him. "What are your intentions?"

He shrugged. "To get Regina drunk and have sex with her. I believe that is what you said."

"You're a fucking liar."

He gave me an 'of course' look. "Dance with me and worry about tomorrow when it comes." He started to move slightly.

"How poetic," I responded.

He twirled me around and guided my body into the music. "Where are your keepers?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "Now I see where Regina got that bullshit term. What do you care?"

His hands started to move over me and I stepped back. "I would hate to see you drunk and at someone's mercy that you're not familiar with."

"Like you give a shit, Vi. If you kill Regina I will hunt you down." We had both stopped dancing and were looking daggers at each other.

"With what warrant, Dove? Because there will never be one. Then what will you do?"

I shook my head at him and turned. He grabbed my arm and pulled me harshly into his body. My back was held in close to the wall of his chest. He leaned in close to my neck. I determinedly stopped a shudder from showing itself.

"You better look out for yourself. My brothers are asking questions and watching. You have your own problems to deal with. Do you think that you can take on someone else's?"

I hissed, giving my anger precedence. "Is that because you can't keep your damn mouth shut?"

"Is there a problem here?" asked a southern drawl behind us.

Vi answered first, "No, Zanzibar. We were just dancing." His hands moved from the tops of my shoulders and caressed down my arms. I hastily stepped away from him and turned around. Zanzibar met my eyes. Vi looked down at me and raised my hand. As he brought it up to his mouth I pulled my hand away so all his lips touched were the tips of my fingers. He smiled and sauntered his way back to Regina.

Zanzibar took my elbow and directed me to the bar at the other side of the club. "If I didn't believe that you were a demon hunter when I first saw you then I most certainly do now."

I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand. "And what's even scarier. I've had more demons walk into my bar at one time since you've been here then since I first opened. I ask again, someone gunnin' for you? Because they're all watching you."

"Shit."

"How about one reason for now," he demanded.

"I don't know. Really. Why don't you ask them?"

Zanzibar laughed good natured, "Honey, you're drunk if you think that I'm going to get a straight answer out of a demon."

I placed my chin on my palm and leaned over the bar. I sighed heavily and focused on the constant movement of the air. Zanzibar waved his hand in front of my face.

"Honey, you even listening to me?"

"Hmm. I guess not," I responded distractedly.

He shook his head and looked at me through the sides of his eyes.

"Zanzibar, I think I've been made into a demon servant." The words slipped out of my mouth and I grimaced at what I just drunkenly revealed.

He rattled the ice in his glass, seemingly unperturbed. "Those are heavy words and heavy deeds. I'm not surprised that you're getting drunk in my bar."

I studied his face.

"Come with me," he said. He led me to a door that was securely locked. After he put in a code the door unlocked itself and we walked up two sets of stairs. One more secured door and we ended up in his office. A window looked out over the outside alley of the bar. He gave me a searching look as he half sat on his scarred and well used desk. I listened to his boot heel as it rapped on the back of the desk. I finally moved my gaze from his swinging leg to his face.

"If you are a demon's servant you would have their mark. Do you?"

"I don't think so." I walked over the plush green carpet and sagged into one of his chairs.

He smiled gamely, "You don't know? Why do you think that you're a servant? It's not likely that a demon would mark a demon hunter as a servant. That's a voluntary position made by retards and hunters don't do something that stupid. We don't need their power like a servant does, we have are own and we can take theirs."

I pulled my shirt to the side and showed him the shiny, metallic scales on my skin.

Zanzibar whistled and placed his hand on them.

"Don't rub up or they'll cut."

"Servant marks are actually demon language. Was that voluntary?"

"Not really. But I have another something from the other demon."

He stared down at me. "You have two demon brands! Where's the other mark?"

"My eyes."

I watched Zanzibar's brown eyes move in closer to my face, then back away, "I don't wanna know." He sighed heavily. "What you have is a genuine 'stay the fuck away' sign. Demons always covet what their other brothers have. And, as far as I know, demons only covet power. Now I know why they're in my bar."

"How can they know?!"

"Most don't. They're coming here to find out what's true and what's not. Since you seem to be on familiar terms with Vi it has to be him fueling the rumor mill."

"No one knows about the marks. He only knows that they're with me because of the law. How do you know about all this?" I asked in wonder.

"Well, I've been around for awhile." Then he grinned, "Also, until I met you I thought I was the only hunter to have one of those."

I gave him a look of confusion as he untucked his shirt and lifted it. He had an irregular mark that shimmered and looked like gasoline on water, the colors constantly shifting. I tentatively touched his lower right side and it felt like I was skimming my hand on the surface of warm water. When I pulled away he dropped his shirt. "You asked, how can I be a demon hunter and keep them away from me. You are the only person I have showed that too. Let's keep it that way."

I nodded. "So they just leave you alone?"

"Mess with the horns and eventually they get the whole bull."

"Do they ever try?"

"In the beginning, but I searched out the biggest and baddest demons I knew." He gave me a level look.

I gaped at him, "You did that on purpose?!"

"Shure," he drawled out. "I didn't want that life style. So I researched for a way out of it besides death and made a deal. I ended up with something our kind had no idea existed and a great idea for a bar. He ended up with an income and information."

"Where is he now?"

"Wherever he wants to be."

"Mother fucker," I swore.

He gave a nonchalant shrug and continued. "I'll tell you this, they claimed you as theirs and that means that if anyone messes with you they are messing with them. But two demons is a bit over the top. I think you're in more trouble with them then outsiders. I don't want to know the details, just be careful with the young ones. They're always trying to prove to their elders that they're bigger and badder than them."

"That would be Vi."

He nodded in agreement, "That would be Vi."

I was quiet for a moment. I looked down, then back at his concerned face, "A hell hound rejected me."

He laughed, "Yeah, they do that. I imagine that two demons would definitely get their wires crossed. It goes with the territory, Dove, it doesn't make you less of a demon hunter, just different." He stood up, "Come on, I'll call you a cab."