Dead-End Demons

By Jeff Beesler

Not every Demon is a monster. Not every person is a human. Either one could kill Dylan Weaverson.

Five years have passed since Dylan’s brother, Chase, died in an explosion at Gus Peddle’s gas station in Helensview. Since then, Dylan has vowed revenge on the Demon nation, starting with a dark alley slaying of a gambler Demon.

Before the cops catch him, Dylan begins to drive back to his farm outside Grain’s Plains, rescuing gas station owner Gus Peddle along the way.

But the past will not die. It isn’t long before the gambler Demon’s corpse turns up on Dylan’s farm under bizarre circumstances. After he buries the body, a group of Demons then kidnap Dylan and drag him back to their farm near Helensview.

With everyone holding secrets from him, Dylan must figure out who’s a friend, and who’s not. And just when he thinks he knows for sure, the truth may very well kill him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Beesler
• Release date: Apr 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370622962

Jeff Beesler

Jeffrey Beesler has had an overactive imagination since as far back as he can remember. Growing up underneath a deluge of fantasy, science fiction, and occasionally a horrifying tale, he's diverting his interests to these genres. He has a particular fondness for the humor styles of Weird Al and the Simpsons.

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DEAD-END DEMONS

(Horrors of Helensview: Book #2)

By Jeff Beesler

Dead-End Demons

Horrors of Helensview #2

Copyright © 2017 by Jeff Beesler

Published by Jeff Beesler

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated. Re-selling this eBook without permission is punishable by law.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

For Sam Hunt and Sean Sweeney, my two best author friends who’ve been there for me since the beginning. And for Kim Huther, for reminding me that I have a job to do. Thanks, Kim!

CHAPTER 1

LUCK BE A LADY DEMON

Hedon City

7:30 PM

Friday, September 25

Neon lights lit up the main bar of the Golden Beaver Casino as Dylan Weaverson exchanged dollar bills for beer at the bar. Cigar and cigarette smoke filled the air, putting a squeeze play on his lungs. He kept from gagging, long enough for the frothy beverage to coat his throat and soothe his worries. He stared ahead at the shelf lined with liquor bottles and sighed. Too pricey for him, considering how empty his wallet was after he’d paid for his motel room.

He guzzled down a gulp of beer, his mind nowhere near comforted yet. The beer went down just fine, bathing his insides with a slight burning sensation he didn’t seem to mind much. Every drop invited him to savor the drink, which he did. He wouldn’t push his luck with a second beer; he needed to be alert for what he had to do. Yes, he had come to relax, but he also had business to tend to, an affair about which he spoke with no one, a rendezvous with revenge.

He looked around. Nothing caught his eye. Everyone seemed to smile a lot these days. Of course, it helped that they were in a place where it was easy to win big money. He spied an elderly couple rolling dice at a craps table, then throwing their hands up in the air and kissing each other madly after each roll. They beamed at him and he beamed back. They weren’t what he was after. He’d leave them alone.

After watching people for a while, he wandered around for a bit, stopping at a blackjack table. A man in a polyester suit asked for a card. Dylan watched as the eight of hearts flipped up against the ten of clubs and four of diamonds, making the guy lose. Dylan smirked a little bit.

Better luck next time, fella.

Something bumped against Dylan’s arm as he was about to place a bet, hoping to get in on that blackjack action. He looked up and found a brunette with mocha-hued skin smiling at him.

Excuse me, she offered in a rather sultry voice.

No harm done, he said, tipping his head to her and letting her play in his place. He watched her win a few rounds, the last of his beer leaving his cup to fill his belly. God; how she struck him as incredibly ravishing, especially her curves. That strapless black dress, her thin legs, and her scent ignited a fire in his groin. He closed his eyes and dreamed of doing a horizontal dance with her.

He snapped back to attention at once. He was here on business. Every last bit of his emotions needed to be kept in check. His focus shifted toward her cards rather than her ample breasts.

Blackjack, the woman said. She flashed him a subtle smile, her hands drawing a stack of black casino chips toward her. Dylan narrowly stopped himself from staring and drooling profusely at the cash pile before her.

You’re good, Dylan said, adjusting his ass on the casino cushion that felt more like concrete than fabric. He made it a point not to wriggle about too much in his seat in front of her. Something in her eyes just commanded authority.

The woman sorted through her chips, sliding a few back towards the dealer before her. The dealer set down a pair of cards, one face down, the up card revealed to be the five of clubs.

Hit me, she said. The seven of diamonds appeared. Hit me.

Dylan raised an eyebrow at this. Uh, don’t you think you should stop while you’re ahead?

The woman huffed through her nose. My money, my wager.

You’re right. I’m sorry, he said, throwing up a hand in a gesture of surrender.

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye as the dealer put down the next card. The four of hearts appeared to the right of the seven.

Stay, she said with a nod.

The dealer turned over the down card to reveal the five of spades.

I win, she announced in a tone that made Dylan check the immediate area for frost.

Congratulations. He tipped his head to her a second later while standing to leave.

You don’t sound particularly happy for me, she said at once, arms crossed.

Dylan cast a shrug and a smile her way, his gaze toward the nearest exit.

Oh, don’t tell me you’re already bored of me? She stepped to invade his front field of vision.

I’m not. I’m expecting someone, he said, pausing to glance at his wristwatch. Work never ends for me, I’m afraid.

What line of work are you in?

He weighed her words carefully, sensing slight interest in them. It seemed to be fleeting, however, as she collected all her chips on the table. The pile appeared to have absorbed many more markers than what Dylan had first seen at his arrival.

Property management, he said, releasing the breath he didn’t realize his lungs had clutched this whole time.

Oh, so you’re a landlord?

In a manner of speaking, yes, he said, putting his right foot forward.

You wouldn’t happen to be renting out your place right now, would you? she asked, casting a sideways glance.

I’m not sure, Dylan confessed as he drew closer toward the exit.

You’re a landlord who’s unsure whether he’s renting? The woman sounded so disappointed by that.

Sorry. I’m sure I’m not renting. Forgive me if I’ve misled you, Dylan apologized, slipping his cowboy hat back over his head. He tugged at the rim until it shielded his eyes from the neon signs and chandelier lighting.

You did no such thing. She slurred every syllable. Whether it was because of alcoholic consumption, or simply because she may have been annoyed with him, Dylan couldn’t tell.

He got to the exit before she snatched his arm.

But I might lose my cool with you if you walk away from me. I didn’t even catch your name. Who are you?

Dylan wasn’t sure how to take that. She must have been hitting on him or something. Damn. How long had it been since he last dated?

Not since Helensview, he thought.

I’m not your type. Really, he said.

How do you figure that?

Because I don’t gamble anymore.

Her eyes seemed to scan him for any weakness in his façade. He returned her stare with direct eye contact. He wasn’t about to back down from a woman who probably spent most of her life sitting at the card tables.

Really? Then what are you doing here in a casino? Her hand glided up and down the slope of his arm. Even through the fabric of his flannel shirt, he could feel her heat reaching him as though he wasn’t wearing a layer. The space inside the front of his pants shrank as his dick hardened. Damn that one beer. It’d been enough to lower his inhibitions. He had to keep his mind on business rather than pleasure.

He looked in her eyes again, and saw nothing of a human spark. Instead he discovered cold design, primal yet familiar. He had seen it once before in another woman he had shown interest in, back in the end days of Helensview. Brittany. She was the last woman he had ever fooled around with before Chase died. She also had become a nasty demon who then helped to bring death and destruction to the town.

Seeing that same evil here in the casino told him what needed to be done.

Force of habit, he finally admitted to her.

Perhaps leaving the casino now might not be such a bad idea. What’s that expression, quitting while you’re ahead?

Dylan nodded. Now’s as good a time as any. I think I’d better get going before it gets too late. Have a long drive ahead of me and all, you see.

Her fingers drifted away from his arm. Oh? I thought you lived here in Hedon City.

You assumed I lived in the city from what I said about being a property manager, he said with realization.

Her cheeks flared up, and Dylan couldn’t tell whether it was from anger or embarrassment. Either way, he had gotten under her skin, just not in the head-over-heels way he used to make women swoon. Only his groin seemed to miss those fun times. The rest of him still grappled with the knowledge of how shallow his life used to be.

Never again.

He stepped back out on the boardwalk outside the Golden Beaver, the woman still next to him as people strode on by.

This isn’t the best place for what I need to do.

So what’s wrong now? she demanded.

I’m sorry?

I thought you said you needed to get out of here.

I do. I’m just trying to remember where I parked my sedan.

Impatience whistled out of her nostrils and she crossed her arms. Don’t tell me you drive a junk heap.

Why would you let what I drive bother you?

The woman reached into her purse and yanked out her phone. After tapping the touchscreen a few times, she hurled it in his face.

She rolled her eyes and stepped away from him. Guess it’d be too much to hope for that you could help me out. Now where the hell am I supposed to spend the night?

How about hell itself? Dylan thought.

You’re a resourceful woman. I’m sure there’s a hotel somewhere along the strip, he said.

She looked at him as though he had uttered pure horseshit.

I’m not stripping to earn a place to stay, she told him.

Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. Not what I meant at all.

Well then what did you mean? she asked him.

It’s not important. Have a good night.

He watched as she stormed off, heading toward wherever she had decided to go. He looked at his wristwatch, cast a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure no one was looking, and then followed his intended target.

The Demon had won her final game of chance ever.

CHAPTER 2

HUNTER AND PREY

Hedon City

Boardwalk Strip

9:32 PM

Friday, September 25

Dylan stalked after the Demon gambler in the backless dress, recalling how he saw nothing of a soul in her eyes nearly an hour ago. He tried not to be obvious about it, especially since he was after the very breed of creature that had robbed him of his brother. These fiends weren’t dumb.

Except perhaps in who they choose to help them out, thought Dylan as he crept into an alley he thought he had seen the Demon gambler wander down. I wonder how dear Gus Peddle is doing these days, if he even survived his gas station exploding that is.

He felt down in his pocket for the sort of protection he had brought with him, a Glock. How had the Golden Beaver never even thought to install metal detectors? Perhaps they were so convinced that their security was top notch that they simply laughed in the face of the criminal element.

Foolish move on their part if that’s the case.

As he moved further into the darkness, he cleared his head of all distraction. One slip-up on his part and he would surely taste his own blood dripping off the talons of the Demon gambler in her supernatural form.

He withdrew his Glock and held it ready. His aim had improved in the past few year with all the time he’d spent