Were We Belong Page 10

  He was full on Demon—horns and everything. His skin glowed an otherworldly silver. He’d grown at least a foot and now stood over seven feet tall. The claws protruding from his hands and his sharp fangs were positively nightmare inducing. Zeernebooch’s golden eyes flashed in the moonlight and narrowed dangerously. It was pretty freakin’ cool and also terrifying. The drawn weapons and expressions of fear and shock on the Werewolves’ faces now made sense.

  I shook my head and sighed. “You might want to tamp that shit down. I’m pretty sure they’ve never seen a Demon before. I’d really like to live long enough to solve the crime, dude.”

  “My bad,” Zeernebooch said with a wide smile and morphed right back to the far more beautiful version of himself.

  “That was kind of hot,” Granny observed casually as if what the Demon had just done was no big deal.

  “Did I earn my point back?” Zeernebooch asked hopefully.

  Granny nodded her head, grinned and flipped him off. “You did.”

  “Excellent,” Zeernebooch bellowed with delight, sending the guards running for cover. “Then putting everyone’s life at risk was well worth it.”

  “This is gonna be so much fun,” I muttered sarcastically.

  “Define fun,” Hank shot back with a chuckle.

  With an eye roll and a quick grab of his butt, I raised my head high, threw my shoulders back and became Essie McGee Wilson, the WTF Council member… otherwise known as Scarier than Hell Essie.

  The walk across the parking lot felt like a movie. Hank and I led our deadly crew through the dark deserted area. The moon was high in a cloudless sky and the air was strangely still. As we advanced, the guards moved to block. All we needed was a soundtrack and Bruce Willis.

  “Move, Clark,” I said through clenched teeth as he and his team obstructed the entrance to the warehouse.

  “You don’t have clearance,” Clark informed me condescendingly, standing his ground.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted as my eyes began to glow and my fangs dropped.

  “Impressive,” I heard Zeernebooch whisper.

  “Just wait,” Granny whispered back. “My girl is just gettin’ started. Essie can tear up some major ass.”

  She was correct, but I really didn’t need a running commentary.

  “You might want to check that out,” Hank said, smiling at an increasingly nervous Clark and Jones.

  Jones moved forward. “Essie McGee and Hank Wilson have clearance. No one else here does.”

  “That’s a problem for me, boys,” I replied flatly. “You really want me to call the Bobs on this? I hear they’re fond peeling the skin off of people that don’t follow orders.”

  “Wait,” Zeernebooch whispered again. “I thought Essie and Hank were part of the WTF Council. Why would she have to call the dumbass Bobs?”

  The play by play had been annoying, but now it was infuriating. Mostly because the Demon was correct. Hank and I were on the WTF Council. My word should be as good as the Bobs. Actually… even better, considering that I’d never been involved in a scandal.

  Hank took his phone out. I quickly put my hand up to stop him from calling the idiots who Clark and Jones clearly believed were our superiors.

  “I will give you until the count of three to clear the pathway to the door,” I explained calmly. “If by that time any of you are standing in my way, I will maim you.”

  “And it will hurt like a mother humper. My Essie is a crazed killer,” Granny chimed in with pride.

  “Thank you,” I told her. As a Southerner, I never ignored a compliment.

  “Welcome,” Granny replied.

  “Council orders are Council orders,” Clark said, glaring at me.

  “Well, I’m Council and I say move,” I told the idiot. “These people are with me. You do not want to fuck with me, Clark, and you seriously do not want to screw with the people on my team. One.”

  All twenty-eight guards stepped down and bowed their heads to me in respect. That left Clark and Jones as the only deterrents to getting into the warehouse.

  “Two. Three.”

  Clark and Jones refused to move. Too bad. So sad. I never made idle threats. Their memories clearly weren’t serving them well. Had they already forgotten our pleasant—for me, not them—exchange in the Bobs’ office the other day?

  “You guys are gluttons,” I said right before I cartwheeled and kicked both of their heads so hard they flipped over and landed on top of each other.

  Disarming them and tossing the weapons to Hank, I used their own belts to secure them to each other.

  “Here’s the deal,” I hissed in their ears. “I consider this strike two against you imbeciles. One more strike and you’re out. I may have been your team member at one time, but that is no longer the situation. You feel me?”

  Neither spoke. They were pissed. But so was I.

  “Zeernebooch. Can you transport people without going with them?” I asked.

  “I can,” he said grinning from ear to ear. “I simply need an address.”

  “Not. A. Problem,” I said, as I pulled a marker out of my pocket and printed the address and suite number on Jones’ forehead. Clark got a lovely little message to the Bobs written on his face—Bobs… your asses are mine. Hide the cheese, buttholes. Love Essie. I was careful to send the bastards right to the Bobs’ office suite. They could explain themselves to the men they assumed were in charge. I was just sorry I wouldn’t be there to witness it. “Zeernebooch, I was hoping Clark and Jones could take a small-ish detour on the way.”

  “What exactly did you have in mind, granddaughter?” the Demon asked with an evil little smirk.

  “Duuuuuude,” I said with an eye roll. “I’m not your granddaughter.”

  “Yet,” Zeernebooch said with a grin. “Your wish is my command. Where would you like to send your delightful friends?”

  The Demon was every kind of insane, but I was beginning to like him. Belphegor was a no- brainer because I already adored Dwayne’s true love. Zeernebooch was a bit tougher, but he was growing on me… and he was definitely earning points with Granny.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I replied, feigning deep thought as Clark and Jones began to sweat. “How about the top of the Eiffel Tower, then the North Pole, and then maybe a quick stop in Tokyo.”

  “It would be tragic if they didn’t see Stonehenge—it’s a must-see,” Hank pointed out with a laugh.

  “This is true,” I replied, nodding my head.

  “And Alcatraz,” Granny added with a wicked giggle.

  “And the Mall of the Americas in Minneapolis!” Belphegor said. “I love shopping.”

  “This man is perfect for me,” Dwayne announced with pride.

  “Wait,” I said, remembering the doozy that Zeernebooch had mentioned. “I want Clark and Jones to live. Can they survive it?”

  “Of course,” Zeernebooch replied with a shrug. “I was shitting you earlier.”

  “Are you serious?” I shouted at the grinning Demon.

  “Lost your point, jackhole” Granny grunted as she head butted an unprepared Zeernebooch.

  “Sweet Hell on fire,” Zeernebooch choked out as he flew forward. “The rules here are wildly unclear.”

  “Pappy,” Belphegor said with a barely disguised smile, helping his father back to his feet. “Try being nice—for real.”

  “Nice is not in my wheelhouse,” he complained rubbing his backside as all the guards watched in fascination. “Wooing is very dangerous.”

  “Only gonna get more dangerous if you keep that shit up,” Granny told him with a cackle of glee.

  Zeernebooch eyed her with great appreciation. “I LOVE IT,” he bellowed, causing all present to slap their hands over their ears. “For every time I’m naughty, I will attempt a try at something nice.”

  “Go ahead,” Granny demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting.

  Zeernebooch scratched his head and wracked his evil brain. “Okay. I can do this.”


  The Demon was so clearly uncomfortable coming up with a pleasantry, I almost laughed. However, he was so earnest in his attempt I bit it back.

  “I’ve got it,” Zeernebooch announced. “Bobbie Sue, you must be a beaver… because damn.”

  The silence was loaded. I was pretty sure there were a few groans from the guards.

  “What?” Zeernebooch demanded. “I thought that was clever.”

  “It was gross,” I told him. “You just called Granny a vagina.”

  “I did?” he inquired, appalled.

  “You did,” Belphegor said with a sigh. “Try again.”

  The elder Demon paced back and forth while he tried to come up with something better. However, anything would be better than calling Granny a hoo-ha.

  “Bobbie Sue,” Zeernebooch bellowed, looking slightly unsure of himself. “Are you a cake? Cause I want a piece of that.”

  Again, there was silence.

  Again, there were a few groaning chuckles.

  “No?” Zeernebooch inquired.

  “Nope,” I told him.

  “Bobbie Sue, is your body from McDonald’s? Because I’m lovin’ it!” he tried another.

  “Umm… definitely a nope,” I told him, trying not to smile. He was pathetic.

  “Shit,” he muttered, glancing over at an amused Bobbie Sue. “If you were a fruit, you would be a fineapple.”

  “Holy hell, you suck at this,” Dwayne said with a groan. “Try wooing her with your manly virtues.”

  “I’m not exactly virtuous,” Zeernebooch pointed out. “However, I do have some excellent characteristics.”

  “Let’s hear ‘em, jackhole,” Granny said with a grin. “Time’s tickin’.”

  “My pleasure, you sexy little hellion,” he said as he puffed out his chest and prepared to wow her. “My man tool is so impressive it has its own zip code.”

  “NO,” Belphegor said, choking on a laugh.

  “Okay. Umm… how about… my package is so big, I entered it in a mammoth rod contest and it came in first, second and third,” Zeernebooch announced, starting to sweat as he observed our open-mouthed reactions. “Or… my member is so enormous I could wear it as a tie if I wasn’t so afraid that looking at Bobbie Sue would give me an erection that would cause my pecker to choke me to death.”

  “You should stop,” I wheezed out, giving up on trying to hold my hysterics back. “That was horrifying.”

  “But it’s true,” Zeernebooch said, perplexed at the muffled laughter.

  “I liked it,” Granny announced to gasps from everyone present. “You get half a point back, jackhole. But if you ever call me a va-jay-jay again, you’re gonna lose that award-winning pecker.”

  “Sounds fair to me,” Zeernebooch replied with a relieved expression. “And just because I’m on a roll, I’d like to add that my schlong is so tremendous, it has an agent.”

  Belphegor shook his head and closed his eyes. “Pappy?”

  “Yes, son?”

  “Zip it.”

  With a curt nod and a gallant bow to Granny, Zeernebooch zipped it.

  Thank God… or Satan in this case.

  “I do believe that Clark and Jones are ready for a ride,” I said.

  “Fuck you,” Clark muttered under his breath.

  “That’s my job. And I’m very good at it,” Hank snarled as his magic ramped up to a point that Jones and Clark began to whimper. “And if you ever speak to my mate again like that, it will be the last words that pass your lips. Zeernebooch, can you add a quick stop in Hell for these boys?”

  “With pleasure,” the Demon replied with a chuckle so evil even I blanched a bit.

  Raising his arms to the sky and speaking Demon in low rumbling tone, Zeernebooch slashed his hands through the air. Clark and Jones disappeared with a scream in a blast of black glitter.

  “How long will it take before they arrive in the Bobs’ office?” I asked, staring at the spot where the idiots had been only moments ago.

  “An hour, give or take a few minutes,” Zeernebooch replied. “Is that satisfactory to you?”

  “It is.” I nodded to him and then turned to the remaining guards. “I’m in charge here. You will remain at your posts. However, I want you in the shadows. We’re drawing too much attention. Am I clear?”

  A chorus of yesses came from the team as the men jumped to their feet and obeyed immediately.

  “Can I add something?” Zeernebooch inquired.

  It was very polite of him to ask. At least someone respected my authority. The fact that it was a Demon was bizarre.

  “Is it about your dick?” I asked with a wince.

  “No, but I can also expound on my manhood if you’d like.”

  “I would not like,” I said. “Add what you want, but if it even remotely refers to your thingie, I will take your half point away.”

  “Can she do that?” a shocked Zeernebooch asked Granny.

  “Yep,” Granny told him with a raised brow. “Essie and Hank are the bosses here. My baby can do what she wants.”

  “Roger that,” he said, winking at my smiling Granny. “If any of you on patrol do not follow the orders of your fearless and somewhat insane leader, I will do to you what I did to Clark and Jones. And I’ll enjoy it.”

  “Thank you,” I told the crazy Demon.

  “You’re welcome, and I do feel that I deserve another half point for that one,” he said, side-eyeing Granny.

  She paused and eyed the nutbag right back. “Fine. You have one whole point, Weiner Hooch.”

  “How many do I need to get into your pants?” he asked, completely serious.

  “Nope,” Belphegor said to his father. “Just nope.”

  “Sorry. My bad,” Zeernebooch said quickly, not wanting to risk losing the point he’d gained.

  “Are we done?” I asked.

  “We are,” he replied.

  “Good. Let’s do this.”

  And that’s when the next level of Hell began.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Feels like a fridge in here,” Granny said as we entered the chilly warehouse.

  Not a thing had been changed or moved as far as I could tell. Blood and guts still spattered the walls and body parts lay in mangled heaps on the cement floor of the cavernous space. The scene was as gruesome and sickening as the first time I’d witnessed it. It was just a heck of a lot colder.

  “Magic was used,” Zeernebooch commented as he began to circle the travesty. “A chill spell has been cast to preserve the bodies.”

  “Who did it?” I wondered aloud as I glanced around for clues we might have missed.

  Zeernebooch halted his pacing and placed his hands on his hips. “My guess is the Bobs. Seems like your boys might be practicing a little voodoo.”

  “That’s possible?” I demanded. If it was, the Bobs had a whole lot of explaining to do.

  “If they’re in cahoots with Witches, it is,” the Demon said as he examined the blood covered wall on the far side of the warehouse.

  “Witches don’t deal with Shifters. Ever,” I said.

  “Normally, no,” Belphegor agreed as he too carefully made his way to the far wall and stared at it. “However, blackmail works wonders with the Witches. Well, blackmail or gift cards to Red Lobster.”

  “Wait. What?” I asked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “Red Lobster?”

  “Yep,” Belphegor confirmed. “Witches love buttery seafood.”

  That was a head-scratcher that I didn’t have the time to pursue. We had a shit show in front of us. My curiosity about Witches’ dining preferences would have to wait for another time.

  “You think the Bobs are blackmailing Witches?” I asked, ignoring my need to discuss shrimp three ways.

  Zeernebooch shrugged. “I think the Bobs would do anything to keep the Weres from being discovered by the humans. And personally, I’m quite pleased they had the foresight to chill the crime scene. Otherwise, it would have smelled like Hell.”

  “Holy shit,
Hell smells like rotting cadavers?” I asked with a shudder.

  “Only Hell’s Cave in Slovenia,” Belphegor enlightened us. “Hell, Michigan is a bit iffy. But the worst is Hell, Norway.”

  “I’d have to disagree,” Zeernebooch countered. “Hell Creek, Montana is quite pungent. Although the most eye-watering stinky of all time is Satan’s Kingdom, Massachusetts.”

  “What about Hooker, Oklahoma?” Belphegor reminded his pappy. “I find it extremely rank.”

  “Fine point, well made, son.”

  “Hang on a second. What about the real Hell?” I asked, forgetting for a moment we were here for an actual reason. “You know, the fire and brimstone one—with Demons and Satan and really bad dudes burning in fiery pits.”

  “Wouldn’t know. Never been there,” Zeernebooch replied.

  I paused and realized my mouth was hanging open. “I am so confused.”

  “I second that,” Hank said. “Exactly which Hell did you send Clark and Jones to?”

  Zeernebooch eyed us for a long moment. Twice he began to speak and then stopped himself. It wasn’t until Belphegor nodded his encouragement did the elder Demon talk. “Hell is more of a state of mind than an actual place,” he explained.

  “I don’t get it,” I said, wondering if the finer points of Hell had been taught on a day I skipped in high school. Skipping class was seriously kicking my ass.

  “What is your worst nightmare, Essie?” the Demon inquired, staring at the ceiling.

  The question was loaded. I wasn’t sure if he was looking up to avoid the carnage or me. Whatever it was, it was unnerving.

  “Are you screwing with me?” I asked, a little worried to share what scared me the most with a Demon—even one that was growing on me.

  “Not at all.”

  “Losing the people I love,” I told him truthfully.

  “There you go,” he replied with no emotion. “Multiply that feeling times a million. Relive it for eternity and you have your Hell.”

  I mulled that over and wondered if he was shitting me again. But I didn’t think he was.

  “So Hell is a state of mind?” Hank asked, trying to pin down the definition.

  Belphegor nodded slowly. “To a certain degree, it is. Do not underestimate the power of the mind.”