Two lawn chairs leaned against the side of the house, and there was a brand-new grill tucked under a shiny black cover. The one thing that bugged her were the bare flower beds. Two long raised beds, one to the left, the other in front of her. Not one flower. Even in the corner where a statue of the Virgin Mary had just been added. Maybe she could help him with that.

  Katia had just made it back into the house when she heard a noise at the front door. It sounded as if someone was trying to unlock it. The noise ceased and someone swore under their breath.

  Swinging open the front door revealed a young woman a few years older than her, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Her eyes were the same bright blue as Simon’s and she had the same cheekbones. It was a good bet she was in one of the family photos on the dining room wall.

  “You’re not Simon,” the woman exclaimed, her surprise registering more as indignation than anything.

  Katia resisted the temptation to be a smartass. “I am not. Can I help you?”

  “I’m Deanna. Simon’s eldest sister.”

  Katia didn’t know the personal dynamics of the Adler clan, but she’d heard Simon mutter this sister’s name a time or two. There always seemed to be an edge to it when he did.

  “Hi. I’m Katia.”

  That earned her a frown. “I couldn’t open the door. Is something wrong with the lock?”

  “No, it worked fine for me.”

  “Is Simon here?”

  “No, sorry he isn’t. I’m housesitting for him.”

  The lady didn’t seem to know what to do with that statement. “He’s not here? Where is he? Why didn’t he tell me he was going somewhere?”

  Because he didn’t think you needed to know?

  “He’s on sabbatical. He’ll be back in a few days.”

  “But what if I need to talk to him?” the woman demanded.

  “Your mother has his contact information,” Katia said, hoping that would defuse the situation before it got ugly.

  “But why are you here?”

  “Because he asked me to watch his house?”

  Like I already said?

  “But who are you? Are you dating my brother?”

  This was the Spanish Inquisition, Atlanta style.

  “No, we’re not dating. I work with Simon and that’s why he asked me to housesit.”

  “You can’t work with him. The Vatican doesn’t allow women to do that.”

  Katia’s patience was fading, fast.

  “Yes, but a demon trapper can watch your brother’s back during an exorcism, which is what I do. If there’s nothing more, I need to get back at it.” Or in this case, food and a long nap.

  Deanna seemed utterly confused, as if this wasn’t something she’d ever encountered before. Every family had that one busybody, as her grandmother called them, someone who’d designated themselves as the center of that familial universe, and upon whom all others must depend. She guessed that was this lady’s role and probably why Simon muttered under his breath when her name was mentioned.

  “Well, I’ll call him,” his sister announced. “That way he can verify you’re supposed to be here. You could be anyone, you know?”

  “He probably won’t answer since he’s on sabbatical. Call your mom. She’ll straighten it out for you.”

  “You better be who you say you are.”

  “Luckily, I am.”

  And then Katia shut the door because she’d had more than enough.

  There was another swear word, followed by a “Why didn’t he tell me?” A short time later a car door slammed and the sister departed.

  “Well, that was special,” she said, shaking her head.

  Tempting as it was to email Simon about the visit, Katia held off. He was on vacation, one he desperately needed, and she would do everything in her power not to ruin it. Besides, she bet she’d be seeing the Annoying Sister again. People like that just didn’t know when to back off.

  THREE

  After a few hours’ nap, Katia made her way to the trapping office, and then promptly volunteered to help Riley with her apprentices during their trip into Demon Central. For Katia, it was always fun to watch her boss in training mode. From what she’d heard, both of Riley’s parents had been teachers so she was hardwired for this.

  “Grade Three Hellspawn, especially Gastro-Fiends, are totally disgusting,” her master said. “They will rip you up in a heartbeat if you’re not paying attention. If you doubt me, both Katia and I have scars to show you.”

  The apprentices, Tim and Mickey, were riveted on what their master was saying, not blowing her off like some might. Always a good thing when the Hellspawn you were trapping could make a meal of you in minutes.

  Katia really liked these guys, though they were nothing alike. Tim wore black, round-rimmed glasses and was anything but athletic. Mickey could have been playing pro football for a living. And yet the two of them riffed off each other like they’d been friends for years. Sort of like her and Simon.

  Thinking of him always made her smile, which meant she wasn’t paying attention to their surroundings.

  “Any special tips, Journeyman?” Riley asked.

  Of course, her boss had noticed that Katia had spaced off.

  “The things have one track minds—food is what they live for. Doesn’t matter what it is, if they think they can eat it they’ll give it a chomp. The trick is not to be their next meal. They don’t seem to be that bright, but they’re devious and that gives them an edge.”

  The two apprentices nodded, then each looked around as if a Three was about to pounce on them.

  “Let’s see if we can scare up one of these monsters. You two will watch as Katia and I trap it. Next time around we’ll have one of you give it a go,” Riley explained.

  “It’ll be fun,” Katia added, just for devilment.

  “Yeah, fun,” Tim said, eyeing the scars on her arms.

  In the past she’d hidden them, but not now. As Riley had said, the marks were something to be proud of. It’d just taken her a while to realize that.

  They went at least three blocks into the center of Atlanta and didn’t see one Gastro-Fiend. A rat scurried by, then another, each intent on its own ratty business.

  “If the rodents are doing their thing, there isn’t a Three nearby,” Riley said, shaking her head.

  “Master Jackson said there’s been fewer demons in the last couple of days,” Tim said.

  “Looks like he’s right.”

  A strange pop came from the alley they’d just passed, followed by an unearthly chuckle.

  “What was that?” Mickey asked, looking around.

  Katia had heard that sound before. It’d been in an apartment building where she and Simon had exorcised a fiend out of a bestselling author.

  She gave Riley a look. “That sounded a lot like a Big Mouth.”

  Her master’s eyes widened. “You sure?”

  The eerie chuckle came again, this time louder.

  “Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

  Riley immediately sobered. “Okay, change of plans. If Katia is right, this is a new Grade Four demon, so not at all something you want to tackle. The National Guild is still working on the official name for the monster because it’s just so freakin’ strange.”

  “I’ll check it out. Maybe I’m wrong,” Katia offered, making her way into the alley. Behind her Riley began moving her apprentices out of harm’s way.

  The scar on her arm twitched. Then a Hellspawn slowly trundled her way.

  “Oh, shit,” she said under her breath. “It’s a Big Mouth,” she called out. “And it’s about to start cloning itself.”

  “You think it’s a trap?” Riley asked, at her side now.

  That was a good question. “Maybe.”

  No matter how you looked at it, Lucifer’s latest creation was just bizarre even by his Hellish standards. Taller than Katia, well over six feet, it really did resemble a big lime green beach ball with spindly flamingo-style legs. Then there were the tentacles, three on each side, which had flesh-ripping teeth along their entire length. At least its eyes were amber, not the fiery red like most demons.

  It was as if the Prince had been really bored one day and decided to create a new Hellspawn based on whatever spare parts he had left over. The bizzarro result was the abomination waddling down the alley toward them.

  “What the . . . ?” Mickey exclaimed.

  The demon kept moving closer, its mouth widening as its body started to glow an unearthly red. The thing was about to reproduce.

  Katia extracted a Holy Water sphere, then gave Riley a quick look. “Toss and run?”

  “No,” her master said, shaking her head. “I’ve got an idea.” She grabbed onto the sphere and trotted back to where Mickey stood, and then whispered something to him.

  The apprentice grinned. “You got it!” he said, adjusting the sphere in his hands.

  He took a few steps forward, almost even with Katia now, then tossed that sphere at the fiend in an impressive overhead arc.

  “No way,” she murmured.

  As he had no doubt planned, the sphere dipped down just at the right moment, then ploughed directly into the fiend’s huge mouth. A crunch, a choking sound, and then before Katia could yell a warning there was a muted explosion.

  The last time this happened the sphere triggered the same response and had fountained bits of demon all over a building’s lobby. And Katia. This time something contained all that, a clear bubble that seemed to glow from within.

  It took a moment to realize that her exceptionally talented boss had created the magical equivalent of a snow globe. Except now the interior of that globe quickly became obscured with severed tentacles, stringy pieces of gnarled fiend, and whatever gawd awful stuff lived inside that beast. Katia swallowed, twice, to keep from hurling.

  The magical bubble slowly shrank as the interior’s contents flamed and turned to ash. Then it vanished and the ashes landed on the alley’s grimy pavement in a neat little mound.

  “That was damned impressive,” Katia said as she shot a thumbs-up at Mickey. “Dude! Wow!”

  “I agree,” Riley said, grinning. Then she turned back to her apprentices. “This is the second one of these things we’ve seen so far. We haven’t figured out a way to trap them yet. That may not be possible, like with the Geo-Fiends.”

  “So that’s all it does?” Mickey asked.

  As Riley explained the birthing process, how it cloned small ravenous versions of itself in a matter of minutes, Katia wandered down the alley. The ashes were all they had to prove there’d been a demon, so collecting a trapping fee wasn’t going to happen. Still, it’d been a great learning experience for the newbies and no one had gotten hurt.

  “Ah, that was cool and all that, but what if you’re not with us when one of those obscenities shows up?” Tim quizzed.

  As the master explained the “slam dunk” method, Katia noticed movement further down the alley. A familiar figure stepped out of the dingy brick wall; a figure that could only be described as otherworldly.

  The first time she’d seen her was at the TrapperCon convention. The Lady, as Katia called her, had brilliant red hair adorned with green ferns and alabaster skin. She was Katia’s height and of slight build. Now she looked weathered, the ferns dying, her face no longer pure white but a sickly gray. As if she’d been ill.

  “Are you okay?” Katia asked, stepping forward.

  The Lady hesitated for a moment, opening her mouth as if to say something, then shook her head. A few seconds later she vanished into the wall beyond.

  Since the others were engaged in a lively discussion of alternative tactics to take down a Big Mouth, Katia made her way along the narrow passage to examine where The Lady had entered and exited. Both were solid brick walls. And yet on the ground between them was a single fern. As she watched, it rapidly wilted, then turned to dust.

  She is real.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  The Vatican didn’t consider skills with a bladed weapon important for an exorcist, but Simon had quickly learned otherwise. Often he found himself up against incredibly lethal Hellspawn, so anything that evened his chances of survival were vital. He figured if Rome’s Demon Hunters used melee weapons, so would he. He’d fought with a sword before, had even killed an Archfiend, but he knew he needed to up his game. The last few days’ private training sessions had shown him just how much more he needed to learn.

  Now, despite a long hot shower and the over-the-counter pain meds, he still ached. Given the intense workout he’d received, this was expected. The other thing he’d learned was the dojo had an instructor who was proficient with a bō, a staff used in Japanese martial arts training. And that the instructor had a class tonight.

  For the second time today Simon entered the training center. To him, it smelled of hope and sweat. As he walked through the building he passed a Tai Chi class in one of the rooms, slowly shifting positions in concert with their instructor. More hunting brought him to the room where the bōjitsu class was just beginning. With a nod toward the instructor, he took a seat on the floor, leaning against the wall. Then shifted around until he found a way for his sword arm not to cramp.

  The class lasted for an hour and at no time was Simon bored. This martial art fascinated him because it was something that Katia loved. He only knew about that because Riley had told him that the trapper’s birthday was coming up, and then she’d sent him a video of Katia working out with her staff. It’d been filmed while she was still in Kansas, well before events had taken so much of a toll. Back then she’d looked healthy, not skinny like now, her hair shoulder length.

  Katia had mentioned that she’d had to pawn some of her belongings so she’d have money for food and a place to stay. Since it hadn’t come on the bus with her from Lawrence, he bet the bō was history. But maybe he could change that.

  As Simon observed the class he’d learned a few things: Not only could the weapon be lethal, but Katia was more advanced than these intermediate level students. Yet another surprise.

  After the class ended and all the students had cleared out, he made his way to the instructor. She was putting away the practice staves. She was an Asian lady, probably in her forties, and had an intensity about her that reminded him of Katia.

  “Excuse me. I have a few questions about using a bō. Do you have time right now?”

  The instructor smiled. “I do have time. I’m Himari. And you are Simon from Atlanta. I heard you did well in sword practice today.”

  He groaned, gingerly moving his right arm, and trying not to wince when it complained. “I think I overdid it.”

  “We all do that from time to time. It’s how we learn. What do you want to know about the bō?”

  He pulled out his phone and showed her the picture of Katia with her staff. “My friend had to sell hers because of, well, financial problems. I want to buy her one just like it. Is that possible?”

  Himari studied the image. “Yes, it is possible. Is she a new student or does she have some experience?”

  “I’ll show you.”

  Simon pulled up the video while sincerely hoping Katia wouldn’t mind him sharing it. Then tried not to fidget as he waited for the instructor’s verdict.

  Himari watched the video, twice, then nodded. “This young woman is skilled. She has spent many hours in training.”

  Did Katia know how good she was? Maybe not.

  “Are there ones that are shorter? Katia’s a demon trapper, so carrying around a long staff isn’t always an option.”

  The instructor handed back his phone. “Let’s go to the weapons room and I’ll show you what your choices might be.”

  “That would be great. Thank you.”

  A short time later, Simon had been shown all the various options, along with a spirited demonstration of each by the instructor. The lady was very good, and he resisted asking just how many years she’d been perfecting her skills.

  “Trappers sometimes use a steel pipe to stop a demon.” He pointed at an expandable metal staff. “Do you think that would be strong enough?”

  “It can be, depending on which type of Hellspawn,” the instructor replied, giving the bō a test spin. “Some do not like these because they feel the balance is off. Yet I know a trapper in Chicago who uses one. He says he likes it better than a steel pipe. More versatile in terms of attack points.”

  Which made sense. If you could drop a demon to its knees or on the ground, you gained the upper hand.

  “But it is also more flexible and that can be an issue. It all depends on who is wielding it.”

  He had no doubt Katia would work around any limitations. “Okay, then I’d like one of those.”

  “Which color?”

  “Ah, blue.” Katia loved that color and the accents on the pipe would make it stand out. “And I’d like to have one of the traditional wooden ones, too.”

  The instructor raised an eyebrow. “This must be a very good friend of yours.”

  The trapper from Kansas was more than a friend, Simon knew that now. It was one of the revelations he’d had during his retreat.

  “Katia has saved my life more than once. I’ll never be able to repay her, no matter the cost.”

  “Then you are a trapper, too?”

  “Yes.” Among other things.

  “Ah, but perhaps it is your friendship that is the repayment, not the material items?” the woman asked.

  It was an incredibly insightful comment, and Simon took it to heart.

  “Perhaps you are right.”

  “How tall is she? That matters in terms of the length of the staff.”

  “Almost as tall as I am. The top of her head reaches my nose.”