Demon's Delight - An Urban Fantasy Christmas Collection by Kate Baray Dan Thompson Linda L. Davis

Author:Kate Baray, Dan Thompson, Linda L. Davis [Kate Baray, Dan Thompson, Linda L. Davis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Demon's Delight - An Urban Fantasy Christmas Collection
Publisher: Kate Baray, Dan Thompson, Linda L. Davis
Published: 2015-12-20T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

In a motel on the outskirts of Rosedale, Nebraska, a brown pickup sits in front of a dingy green door with the number “5” painted in white across the top. Inside the room, a double bed with a red and green spread sits next to the east wall, where a faded copy of the Mona Lisa hangs off-center. Elisha Short floats three inches off the floor, leafing through some pictures he was given at the desk. The manager was more than pleased to loan the photos of the city. Not that Short needs pictures to remember the town; he has been here before. Problem is, after all his years, places run together and look alike. A few reminders are all he needs to put the right memory with the right location.

He moves toward the overhang outside the room and watches the redness continue creeping up in the west. Should have been dark long ago, but it isn’t. Short speaks to the Creator, who assures him the red sky is not His doing. “There are goblins in your part of the world, Elisha. They are a precursor to worse things to come.”

Short nods, respectful as always. “Any suggestions, sir?”

“No,” is the answer that comes back through eternity.

“Yes, sir,” Short says after a bit, “I will do my best.”

He yearns for an appetite as in old times, when by day he rode hard on a buckskin horse, then settled around a fire at night. But food is not part of Elisha Short’s agenda anymore. Instead, he will study the routes in and out of town, meet some of the people. He must find the demon bringing chaos into the world. That is why he is back, the reason he left Paradise.

Wendy has two vodka martinis, and as she grows tipsy, the memory of the dogs fades, and she is no longer frightened. Surely she imagined the blood and the determined stance of the big mastiff. Her friends laugh and talk her down from worrying, pointing out how an active imagination, which Wendy has, can make a person see things in the wrong light. But now, when she is alone in the bathroom, she feels panic, wondering if Mr. Kyle made it home without similar visions. Her cell phone is close by, on the paper roll, and she lifts it to call him as she sits. She decides to use the excuse that the last-minute contract signature has her concerned.

The phone at his home rings several times before voice mail picks up.

“This is Chuck Kyle. Leave a message and I’ll call you back.” She disconnects the phone, once again feeling foolish.

Wendy washes her hands and frowns into the mirror; worrying over what she knows was out there. She weaves to the front of the bar, intent on leaving, and sees others standing there, remarking on the red sky that has chased away darkness. The city looks aflame, for reflections from the tall glass-front buildings are colored dark red from above. Streetlights are

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