In fact, as everyone ordered, they were only getting worse with each passing second. Megan asked for a Caesar salad she knew she wouldn’t eat. The thought of food, so appealing ten minutes before, now made her queasy.
“Brian,” she murmured, leaning over the table toward him, “what’s wrong?”
“I don’t—I’m not sure.”
“There’s a demon in here,” Greyson said.
“Of course there is.” Tera raised her eyebrows. “You’re here and your men—”
“No.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned back, glancing casually around the restaurant. “Not like us.”
Malleus and Maleficarum also leaned back, shifting their chairs so they faced more toward the restaurant than the table. Spud got up entirely and plunked himself down next to Megan.
“Is it—” Megan started, but she didn’t need his warning glance to tell her not to finish the sentence.
“I think that’s a pretty good guess, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“What are you talking about?” Tera asked. “Who?”
“A demon. One we don’t want to mess with. Maybe we should go.” Megan tried not to look around the room, but couldn’t help stealing one glance.
No one else in the diner seemed to notice anything wrong. All around them were smiling faces, people chatting as they ate, families with little children playing tic-tac-toe on napkins or paper place mats. Megan folded her arms across her chest in a fruitless attempt to warm herself. Was one of these people, these happy diners, possessed? And if so, would they survive?
Gerald hadn’t.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s aware of us,” Greyson said. “But it might not know we’re aware of it.”
“Is it the waitress?” Tera asked. “I mean, you guys didn’t seem to get really nervous until she came, right?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“How do you not know? Don’t you guys all recognize each other?”
“Whoever she…it is, it’s possessing someone. So no, I feel it, but I don’t know who it is. I’d have to look into their eyes or touch them to really know.”
Megan caught Brian’s eye. He tilted his head back and to the right. She nodded. He’d read that side, she’d read the other.
“Don’t,” Greyson said. “Don’t warn it.”
“But if—”
“No. I know what you guys are thinking, but we don’t know who or what it is. Let’s not—”
Their waitress appeared, balancing their tray on one hand while she flipped open a wooden stand with more force than seemed necessary with the other. She shot a glare back toward the kitchen.
“Here.” She set the tray on the stand and started handing out plates, her brows knitted in a grouchy frown.
“Is something wrong?” Megan asked.
“No, it’s just the cook.” The waitress smiled faintly. “He’s got a bee in his bonnet today, you know? Like none of the rest of us work hard. He practically threw your plates at me, at least your food is hot—”
The words turned into a scream as a knife flew past her face and embedded itself in the wall next to Megan’s head.
Megan started to jump back, but before she could move more than a few inches Spud was on top of her, his bulky body pressing her hard against the floor of the diner. A dried scrap of bacon sat only inches from her nose; she made a face and tried to twist away, but Spud’s weight was unmovable.
Screams erupted around the room. The floor shook as diners got up, scattering chairs and knocking over tables, sending plates crashing to the tile. At least so Megan assumed. She heard the sounds and felt the tremors but couldn’t see much beyond the petrified bacon.
“God damn it, Spud, get off me!”
“Megan!” Tera’s voice, calm but with an edge of panic. “Are you okay?”
“Sorry, Spud,” Megan muttered, and brought her fist up with as much strength as she could muster into the side of his head. Pain shot from her fingers all the way up her arm. His head was like granite.
He pulled back a little; the reproach in his eyes would have made Megan laugh if she hadn’t been so mad.
“I’m sorry, but get the fuck off me! Now!”
“Let her up, Spud,” Greyson said, sounding very tired and far away. Spud moved.
The restaurant was almost empty, save for one elderly couple calmly chewing as if nothing had happened. Megan grabbed the edge of the table and pulled herself up.
Greyson, Tera, and Brian were standing in a line together, watching the entrance to the kitchen, with Malleus and Maleficarum flanking them. In the doorway to the kitchen stood the chef, his chest heaving, his eyes red, and a handful of knives clutched in one muscular fist.
Megan barely had time to take this in before he noticed her. His mouth opened, lips curled in a snarl, as he hurled another knife.
Spud’s hand snapped over the blade two inches from her face.
Megan jumped back as the chef wound up again.
This time the blade disappeared, dissolving somehow into a harmless trickle of water before it was out of the chef’s hand. They all turned to look at Tera, who shrugged.
“He surprised me last time.”
The chef, obviously frustrated, eyed them with the air of a cat who didn’t understand why the ball of yarn wasn’t dead already. His arm swung back, but froze on a muttered word from Tera.
“You witches come in handy,” Greyson murmured. Tera frowned but didn’t take her eyes off the chef.
“Is he the one? The demon?”
“I don’t know, I—”
“Larry? Larry!”
They all turned—except Tera—to look as the elderly woman in the restaurant, the dedicated eater, started screaming. Her entire body shook as she backed away from her husband, dropping her fork with a clatter that seemed much louder than it should have.
Larry stood up as well, his thick body expanding, his head waving from side to side like he was trying to shake away a fly. Megan watched in horror as his shoulders broadened, as his torso stretched long enough for his shirt to come untucked, exposing a long line of fish-belly-white skin.
“I’m guessing it’s him,” Greyson said.
Chapter 14
Whatever talents Ktana Leyak might have, Megan thought in the next dizzy seconds before all hell broke loose, the ability to pile on the distractions had to rank near the top.
Larry turned to them, his papery face stretched shiny, his eyes burning pits. Once again Megan heard the voice of Ktana Leyak erupting from a mouth that had no business shaping it.
“Hello again, Megan.” Larry’s expression turned coy. It was so bizarre to see an old man simper Megan might have laughed if she hadn’t been so utterly terrified.
Malleus and Spud rushed forward to the chef and hustled him out of the doorway, taking advantage of his inability to move. A steel door slammed, barely audible over the panicked screams of the old woman. Her hands pressed against her cheeks, her eyes open so wide they seemed to float from their sockets.
“Larry! Larry!”
Larry glanced at her. Almost as an afterthought his arm swung back, slamming the woman across the face, throwing her back against the wall. The windows rattled. The woman did not scream again.
“And a witch.” The giggle made every hair on Megan’s body stand on end. “Good. I’m hungry again.”
It all seemed to take such a long time, but in reality Megan knew only seconds had passed, that the door had slammed at the same time Larry’s hand was delivering the blow to his wife, that Malleus and Spud were just reentering the room as Larry moved quickly, his body jerking and creaking, toward Tera.
Flames erupted around him, filling the air with the terrible smell of burning flesh. Still he advanced. The flames grew higher, turned blue-white, as Greyson tried to stop Ktana’s advance, but her tinkling laugh floated through the air and the flames died.
Larry’s body was charred, blackened, horribly blistered. Megan’s stomach twisted and roiled in her belly. Not a man in front of her, not anymore. A thing, a demon-powered corpse worse than any zombie because somehow she knew Larry was still alive in there, that he was still able to feel and think.