Free Of Flame and Promise by Cecy Robson Page B

Christmas bells. He crouched on his hind legs, his reptilian tail flicking excitedly and a hunger lighting his beady red eyes. I lashed out, firing white and blue light as fast as I could. He leapt away from every strike, appearing to enjoy my mounting terror and baiting me into exhaustion.
    Jesus.
The best way to describe this thing was as an erect cat skinned of its fur. Strange markings ran along his belly and dwarf limbs. He wasn’t as large as the ones that had taken my sisters, but these things caused chills to puncture my heart—not just because of what they looked like, but because of what they were. Demon children were bred from demon lords and very unwilling human women.
    I shoved my fear away and focused. Hell would host the Ice Capades before I’d become his next prey.
    The
were
continued screaming, because yeah, no help coming from that corner. I watched, waiting, building my magic between breaths and releasing blast after blast. The demon evaded each one. He thought he was smart.
    But so was I.
    I aimed, taking out another bottle of vodka. The demon laughed when I shot a bottle of bourbon and a supersized bottle of Jack after that. He thought I’d missed, until he glanced down at the booze soaking his feet.
    I released my flame at the puddles of alcohol surrounding his form. A crest of blue and white engulfed him, my cue to scramble to my feet and fling myself over the counter. I landed on my heels—no way was I ruining my dress—in time to hear the thing shriek, and for wet entrails to splatter against the wall like confetti. Pieces of demon slithered down, thankfully drying in the air as they reached the warped floorboards.
    Another holler from the store owner, another screech. I stumbled to a stand and peeked over the counter. The other demon child, the one I’d first injured, was taking his turn on the store owner’s face. I should have been grossed out—it was all sorts of sick. But I was more annoyed than anything. “Rip off its wings!”
    He screamed louder, causing me to yell. “Rip off his wings—his
wings
!”
    The owner gurgled and choked, but managed a
“What?”
    I cupped my hands. “Rip off his wings and throw him in the fire.” I pointed wildly for all the good it did me. “The
fire
!” I hollered.
    His screams morphed into choked bubbling. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I stomped over, lifted the fire extinguisher, and zapped the bastard—the demon, I mean, not the giant prick getting his face chewed off.
    The demon rolled off the store owner and I smashed him in the head with the extinguisher. I took about two steps back and finished singeing the little bugger. Although the smoke detector blasted above us, the exploding demon innards were moist enough to put out the dwindling flames.
    That said,
ew.
    Repulsion, and the experience, might have made me a little irritable at that moment. Just a little bit. “What are you, deaf?” I snapped at the owner. “I told you to rip his wings off and toss him in the fire—”
    The store owner sat up then. Blood soaked his face, shirt, and the sides of his head where the demons had eaten his…ears.
    “My bad,” I told him.
    I placed my hand over my belly, mostly because I was trying not to puke, and eased back to where I’d dropped my purse. I rummaged through it, swearing when I realized I’d forgotten my phone. “Where’s your phone?” I asked.
    “Huh?”
    “Your phone!” I screamed. “I need to borrow your phone!”
    He wiped his face with his nasty shirt and pointed. “You calling the
weres
?”
    I wanted to. But I couldn’t. Not today. My fingers dialed quickly, although they were shaking more than I liked. Call me a coward, call me a wussy, call me a priss, but demons just plain suck.
    “Who is this?” Tim hissed on the line.
    “Cleanup in aisle nine,” I told him.
    “Taran?” he asked. “What’s with you? Your voice is shaking like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “No. Not a ghost.” It didn’t take a genius to