“The guy you saw standing by the obelisk, his name’s Pryce Maddox. He’ll probably attack again tonight.” I described him while Norden took notes.
“And you know this guy how?”
“He calls himself my cousin, but—”
“Oh, Jesus. How come I’m not surprised?”
He gave me one of his trademark sneers, but I regarded him levelly. No matter how much I’d love to knock this norm on his ass right now, I needed his cooperation tonight. So he could take his own damn bait and shove it, because I wasn’t touching it. After a minute, he dropped his gaze and pretended to read something on his notepad.
“How’d he disappear like that?” Norden asked, his voice businesslike.
“Pryce is a demi-demon. He can pop in and out of the demon plane at will.”
“Can I shoot him? I mean, will it do anything?”
“Yes, but use bronze bullets, preferably the kind treated with holy water or sacramental wine. Regular bullets can slow him down, but mostly they’ll annoy him.” From the look on Norden’s face, it was clear he wasn’t packing bronze bullets of any kind. “I’ll handle Pryce,” I said. “Is there a way we can stay in contact tonight?”
He looked like my question gave him indigestion, but he said, “I’ll get you a two-way radio.”
“Good. If you see Pryce, tell me.” I patted the Sword of Saint Michael, and Norden nodded.
He started toward the cemetery gate, then stopped. The sneer was gone, replaced by a haunted look. “Those crows—or whatever the hell they were. That’s what killed Sykes?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell is it?”
“It’s called the Morfran. It’s an ancient spirit of hunger that feeds on death.”
“Jesus.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, Vaughn, I’ll give you this: You are pretty good at fighting demons.” I half-nodded and went toward Tina’s trailer. Before I’d made it to the door, he added, “For a freak.”
37
KANE ARRIVED AS NORDEN WAS LEAVING. HE’D SEEN THE crows circling and realized what was happening. “Is that it?” he asked. “Did you recapture the Morfran Pryce released?”
“That was barely a preview.” In Wales, Kane had been deep in the mine when the Morfran filled the sky. He hadn’t seen how much Pryce had released. “Pryce is saving the main event for the concert.”
Quickly I brought him up to speed on everything from the time we’d been separated in Reykjavik to Pryce’s disappearance from the cemetery. I didn’t mention the Old Ones—we could sort that part out later. “Pryce was by that obelisk?” Kane asked.
I nodded.
“I’ll see if I can pick up his scent.”
“He exited into the demon plane.” But it was a good idea. Pryce’s human form, with its human senses, couldn’t enjoy being in the demon plane any more than I did. He could be hiding somewhere in the Ordinary, waiting for the concert to start. “If you find him, don’t approach him. Come and get me.” I gave him one of my knives, just in case.
Kane nodded and went toward the obelisk. I hurried up the wooden steps to check on Tina.
Tina’s dressing room was tiny, about the size of a walk-in closet. She sat in front of a light bulb-ringed mirror at a dressing table piled high with cosmetics. A framed photo of a smiling norm family stood half-hidden behind a tissue box.
Tina peered into the mirror and spread a layer of cold cream over her face. She wiped the cream off, removing the smudged mascara and other makeup. She inspected her reflection, turning right, then left. She was lucky; the Morfran hadn’t left a mark on her face. Her fluffy pink bathrobe showed several rips and slashes, but she was in amazingly good shape for a zombie who’d been attacked by the Morfran.
Tina fluffed her hair with her fingers, held it straight out on both sides of her head, and sighed. She gathered her hair in a loose bun and fastened it with an elastic band. “What a mess. I’ll fix my makeup first.” She moved around some bottles and jars on her table. “Can you get my foundation? It’s in my purse on the back of the door.”
I fished out a bottle—the shade was Ghoulish Green—and tossed it to her. She smeared some on her face and blended it with a sponge.
“Can you believe I’ve got to do my own hair and makeup?” She pouted into the mirror. “Paul says we have to keep costs down for this concert ’cause it’s free. But when we do the national tour, I’ll get my own stylist.”
“Tina—”
“No.” She slammed Ghoulish Green down on the table, making the other bottles—and me—jump. “I don’t want to hear it, Vicky. You’re not going to talk me out of going onstage tonight.” She swiveled in her chair to face me. “Whatever attacked me killed those other zombies. I get that, okay? But I don’t want to know what it was. I don’t want to hear it could attack again. So if you’re going to lecture me with shit like that, get out.” She glared at me, her expression an odd mixture of pleading and defiance, like she expected me to walk away and was all set to show how little it mattered to her. Even though it did matter. A lot.
Her costume was flung over the back of a folding chair beside her dressing table. I picked up the dry cleaner’s bag, shook it out, and hung the costume with her purse on the back of the door. I sat on the chair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her cheeks puffed out as she exhaled. She reached for the makeup bottle. “Ghoulish Green is such a stupid name. Like anybody who buys makeup wants to be reminded she’s a zombie.”
I raised an eyebrow. “This from Tina Terror?”
She bounced in her chair. “Cool stage name, huh? It goes, like, perfect with Monster Paul. All three backup singers have them, but the other two, Ashley and Jennifer, couldn’t find another word that worked with their real names, so they’re Hannah Horror and Polly Panic. But Tina Terror is the best.”
“Um, sure.” Hated Ghoulish Green, loved Tina Terror. No one ever accused Tina of being consistent.
Someone knocked. I stood, sliding a bronze knife from its sheath. “I’ll get it.”
“Okay.” Tina blinked, inspecting the thick black lines around her eyes, then started shoveling on sparkly silver eye shadow.
“Who is it?” I asked through the door.
“What, you want a knock-knock joke? Open the goddamn door.”
Norden. I put the knife away and pushed the door open. He was holding out the walkie-talkie I expected. What I didn’t expect was to see Daniel standing beside him.
“Hi,” he said, smiling warmly. “Norden said you were here. Welcome back.”
Half a dozen thoughts clamored for my attention. Loudest were You should’ve called him and You’ve gotta tell him you’re back with Kane.
“Uh,” I said, stepping outside. I closed the door behind me, then took Norden’s walkie-talkie and clipped it to my sword belt, feeling Daniel’s blue-eyed gaze. The weight of it made me fiddle with the walkie-talkie some more. “I, um, didn’t know you liked monster rock.” Once, we’d gone to hear Irish music in a pub in Southie.
He laughed. The sound was warm and easy, and he smiled when I looked at him. “I’m moonlighting for Norden. Word is there might be a demon attack, and I’ve learned enough about demons from you that I thought I could help.” His smile broadened. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
“We’re not dealing with an ordinary demon.” I’d worry about sorting out my personal life later. If I survived tonight. I briefed them on the Morfran, on Pryce, on his shadow demon Cysgod. “Pryce believes letting the Morfran gorge on the zombies will strengthen the demons. He’s trying to erase the boundary between the demon plane and the human world.”