Demonfire, or, Charm of the Killing Cousin: Sunspinners, #4

By Phoebe Matthews

Demonfire, or, Charm of the Killing Cousin, is Sunspinners novel 4. As though Elaine doesn't have enough relatives at home, a cousin arrives who is willing to sell out to anyone, including demons.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LostLoves Books
• Release date: Mar 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386820093

Phoebe Matthews

Phoebe Matthews is currently writing three urban fantasy series. Her novels have been published by Avon, Dark Quest, Dell, Holt, LostLoves, Putnam, Silhouette, and Scholastic.

Book preview

DEMONFIRE

Somebody’s blood splashed on my jacket and across my hair and face. I curled back against the wall and tried to draw myself into such a small shape, no one would see me. We were on a downtown side street far from First Ave or passersby with cell phones. The demons did not want to attract attention.

In the dark I crawled on hands and knees, wincing every time my scraped knee hit the pavement, carefully edging along the wall. I crept past a tangle of polished shoes and long-toed feet. They were too busy tearing at each other to notice.

Anyone can crawl. It has to be the slowest form of locomotion. Clinging to the brick wall, I hauled myself upright. Something slimy and hard grabbed my arm. When I swung toward it, all I could see in the darkness were flat round eyes reflecting my face. It opened its mouth and hesitated. I looked into that yawning gap and saw the bottom of hell.

Bite me! I shrieked. Dare ya!

The head wove on the skinny neck and the saucer eyes stared. The mouth opened wider and the worst breath in the universe nearly asphyxiated me. I reached into my shoulder bag for my weapon because, by god, I wasn’t going to die from getting hit by bad breath without taking the bastard with me.

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CHAPTER 1

My family was recently threatened by demons. The demons withdrew but no, I didn't count the score settled. They'd be back. We would not be prepared to do much about them other than stall. At least we would not be surprised.

The surprise came from within. A cousin, that's what changed the balance in the household. A wiser woman would have ignored the doorbell altogether. Instead, when it rang, I sat at my desk listening to it while I rummaged through the travel brochures Charley had begun leaving there to tempt me, and waited for him to show up and tell me who was outside. Or rather, to touch my shoulder. He wouldn't show.

With sunlight streaming in the window Charley would be invisible, the light spinning through his cells and reflecting in a way that makes him seem to disappear. He would be there in the flesh, literally, because his choices are to wear jeans in the daytime or go around naked. In the summer he prefers naked. I don't prefer either solution. The idea of a naked invisible fortyish male wandering around my house is a bit unnerving. So is the sight of a pair of jeans walking themselves through the house.

Are you here, Charley?

No answer. Possibly he was in the backyard or on the upstairs porch and hadn't heard the bell. I clicked save on the job on my computer before hurrying into the front hall and there I stopped and waited. Absolutely I did not look up the staircase.

If any of my five relatives were on the upper landing, I did not want to see their visible clothes moving around in the shapes of invisible people. I was fairly sure they must be outside because if they had heard the bell and looked out an upstairs window and identified the caller, they would be hanging over the bannister to tell me in loud whispers who it was.

No one said anything.

And that is what screen doors are for in Seattle, not for bugs. Seattle isn't a city plagued by lots of flying insects. The locked screen door allows me to open the front door and be in a position to close it quickly if the caller is someone who tries to force its way in. You noticed the it. Yes. Not an error. Things that tend to turn up on my door step unwanted are demons. They have come into my life in two different flavors. One flavor never approaches my house. The other flavor does.

I ran my fingers through my short hair to fluff it up a bit, in case it was my current man friend at the door. I use the word current whenever thinking about my romances. After two failed marriages, I have stopped making long range plans.

The man on the doorstep wasn't a demon. He also wasn't anyone I recognized.

He leaned so close to the screen, squinting through the mesh, his face almost touched it. Elaine Royal? Of course you are! You're Elaine! I'd know you anywhere! You look a lot like my sister. Anybody ever tell you that you have your grandmother Tessa's nose or that you resemble Lucy Fairchild? That's my sister. Lucy.

I knew I had relatives named Fairchild. I had never seen any of them and for good reason. The predecessors had built up a fairly large fortune over the years. A firm of excellent lawyers makes it part of their job to answer all queries and claims while insuring we are never approached. The problem, of course, is the sunspinners. Neither the relatives nor the lawyers know I am the one normal representative of a household of people who are immortal and at times invisible. All they know is that my family has strange requirements and the money to insure our wishes.

I stood there staring back at the stranger, mouth open, mind empty.

His smile widened. I'm Jack Fairchild. In Seattle on business. Sorry I didn't phone ahead but you know how it is, straight off the plane and into meetings.

When I still couldn't think of a sound worth making, he added, Mind if I come in?

Yes, I minded very much. However, he was correct in saying my grandmother was a Fairchild. Although she died before I was born, I did know her name. My conscience battled my common sense. I am rude from a lifetime of practice. It isn't how I want to be. It is how I have to be. And possibly he did not know all the terms of the trust fund money his family receives from the Royal estate. A short conversation could send him on his way without stirring up his curiosity.

All right, I might as well invite him in, say hi, offer him a beer, chat for a half hour and then get rid of him. First things first, I would warn whoever might be upstairs. I pitched my voice to a volume that could have been heard in the back row of the opera house.

Jack Fairchild! From my mother's side of the family, right? For heaven sake! And then I remained silently in the doorway for another minute while his smile faded to a nervous twitch. So this wasn't an uninformed relative. He knew the rules.

I continued to wait until he thought of something else to say. By now anyone in the house should have heard me.

That's right, we're related through Tessa Fairchild Trent. Actually, she was my father's older sister and your grandmother. I think she married very young. My father was more into marrying often. I'm the last of the line, kind of an afterthought when he was in his sixties. Does that make us second cousins? Cousins once removed? Kissing cousins? I can never get that stuff straight, he said.

Me, either.

Uh, let's see, I have a rental car here. He turned and gestured toward a gray sedan parked by the curb across the street. Elaine, can I take you to lunch somewhere?

I felt a hand touch my shoulder. Charley's breath warmed my ear. He whispered, Let him in and get it over with.

Without turning to look at him, I knew he was a shadow shape behind me, blending into the dimly lit hallway and invisible through the screen.

The sunspinners who lived with me must have been outside on the upstairs porch at the back of the house when the doorbell rang. Now the others would stay upstairs until this Jack person left. Or would they surround us in the sunny kitchen, five invisible beings, to overhear what this relative had to say? It wasn't as though we had ever had relatives come to call before now. Most of the time I forget I have relatives, other than my mother who took the name Royal after my father walked out. And then, after I was out of college and into marriage, she followed his example and did a flit. I have no idea where she is. She sends postcards from around the world, none with return addresses.

Curiosity won, both for myself and for the snoopy eavesdropper. When I heard Charley's bare feet pad away toward the direction of the kitchen, I flipped the lock latch on the screen door.

Come in, Jack, I was about to make myself a sandwich. Join me and catch me up on your family.

Letting a stranger into the house wasn't frightening for me, not with a circle of sunspinners to watch over me. The danger was in letting anyone at all into the house. The sunspinners are invisible but they are solid, perfectly capable of clubbing this stranger with a heavy brass candlestick if he turned dangerous.

The world thinks I live alone in my large, inherited house. Neighbors believe I often have houseguests, because that's what I tell them. It explains the lights in the upstairs bedroom windows.

Jack Fairchild gave me a huge grin and followed me through the hallway and formal dining room to the kitchen. Nice house! It's lucky I caught you. I was afraid you might be off to work.

He looked about my age, on the downhill side of thirty, average height and build, medium brown hair, California tan. I think of my own looks as plain vanilla, no memorable features, and he rather fell into that category, too.

I do a lot of my job online from home.

He glanced at my sweatshirt and jeans and bare feet. Wish I could do that. Looks comfortable.

Digging through the refrigerator, I lined up ingredients on the counter. Grab a couple plates off that shelf, Jack, and help yourself. Coffee? Beer?

If normal relatives had ever appeared on the doorstep before this, Mother hadn't mentioned them. And now she had conveniently decided it was my turn to manage and her turn to run away and where is she, anyway? I did the usual small talk with Jack Fairchild while we each fixed our own sandwiches, sliding in the occasional question about his reason for being in Seattle.

At first I thought it was the usual dull business trip story. And then I realized he was intentionally being vague.

His answers ran to, Oh, boring meetings, you know the kind, bet you have them where you work, and My job? You wouldn't know the name, a small LA firm and isn't that an oxymoron, using LA and small together? Ever been to LA? You should, you should come visit. You can stay at my place. Or with my sister. Lucy would love to meet you.

Sure. Give me your address and phone number, in case I get to LA. I pulled my smart phone out of my pocket.

Do you do business trips?

Your phone number?

He filled his mouth with the last bite of sandwich and was that to avoid answering? I have a difficult time trusting anyone.

The sunspinners depend on me to protect them. For three centuries they have followed their protectors through a variety of climates and disasters. Across plains and mountains, certainly, but across oceans? They cannot remember. A century ago they settled in Seattle and decided they would be safe here.

And were. Until this year. First there were the demons. Now there was this relative.

Jack didn't resemble anyone I knew. He had the same medium brown hair I do but his was curly so it was not actually anything like mine for several reasons. My hair is fluffy but not curly. And it is streaked blond. The fluffy cut and blond streaks are done by a pricey hairdresser. Outside of my family, she and I are the only ones who know the true color of my hair.

He made a show of swallowing before speaking. Big house you've got here. Family property, right?

That woke me up. The house belongs to my mother.

Was that the situation? Had he done a drive by, seen the obviously valuable property with its large brick house on a wide lot in a neighborhood of expensive homes, and decided he deserved more? Did he want to contest inheritances?

He said, Oh sure, I know that. Is your mother around?

Not today, Charley whispered and I said aloud, Not today. I picked up Jack's empty plate and carried it to the sink. Jack, it's been great meeting you. Say hi to your sister. Sorry I cannot talk longer but I have work to do.

He went all innocent with the smile and his hands spread out, palms toward me. Okay, let me fess up. I forgot to make reservations and the hotel is overbooked and I honestly did not intend to contact you but when they told me I couldn't get a room, I thought, hey, I have a cousin in Seattle. You must have a guest room. Or the couch will do.

His answer was meant to make me feel uncomfortable. I was not about to be maneuvered. If you are a Fairchild, you have been instructed by our lawyers not to contact us. At all. Ever.

Yup, I have always wondered about that.

The Fairchilds are paid handsomely not to wonder, Charley whispered.

As there is no polite way to say that, I went for rude. I don't know the reasons but I do know the trust fund set up for your family will be canceled if I report that you contacted me.

The smile went into an expression of hurt surprise. Cousin Elaine, my apologies! While he stumbled all over trying to think up excuses, I tried to figure out why he was in my kitchen. Seattle is a large city with numerous hotels. This was not the height of the tourist season. Any receptionist in a booked hotel would find him a room nearby.

I let him ramble until he ran down. His last weak remark was, You won't report me to the lawyers, will you? It was an honest mistake and I would really like to make it up to you, take you to dinner wherever you want.

He can make it up to you by getting out of here, Charley whispered.

Like I said, this once has been nice and now you need to leave. And in case he had forgotten the way to the front door, I walked into the entry and opened the door. If he was  unwilling to leave he could wrap his arms around the staircase bannister. And lose the trust fund. The thought was there. I could see it in his hesitation. However, as it almost always does, greed won.

So did curiosity. He turned slowly, looking back at the formal dining room, then up the staircase, then past the wide archway into the front room. It runs the length of the house with windows facing both the street and the back garden. On the wall opposite the hallway, doors on either side of the fireplace open to a library at the front of the house and a TV room