Free The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 3: Red Reunion (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #3) by Michael Panush Page B

You will pay!” The serpent’s mouth opened and fire came out. Mort grabbed Weatherby and pulled him to the ground, seconds before the blaze tore through the kitchen, shattering plates and silverware and blackening the walls. Weatherby felt the floor rush up to him as fire burned above his back.
    Peggy was screaming. Weatherby came to his feet, but Mort grabbed his arm. “Come on, kiddo!” Mort cried, pausing to grab his spare pistol from the table. “If we stay here, we’re fried!” He pulled Weatherby to the door. Weatherby realized he was crying too, as they went through the living room and managed to get away from the rising crimson flames.
    Mort smashed the door open with his boot, and they collapsed onto the perfect green lawn. Weatherby was coughing and crying, but he stood up and looked back at the house. The flames were already rising.
    “Peggy!” he cried. He turned back to Mort. “We have to go back for her. We have to go back inside.” He held tightly to his revolver as he handed the automatic back to Mort. “She could still be alive – alone in there with Astaroth, and those demons, and that monster Butch!”
    “You sure?” Mort looked back at the house. “We go in there, we might not be coming back out.”
    Weatherby put his revolver back into his coat. He dug into the pockets, grabbing every charm and relic he could, everything that might be useful against Astaroth and the demons. “I’m certain, Mort. I love Peggy. I’ve never been more certain of anything.”
    “I know the feeling. I’ve grown to hate it.” Mort walked to the door, and nodded to Weatherby. “Stay close to me. Don’t let the demons separate us. And let’s go and get your girlfriend.”
    They stepped back into the house. The odor of brimstone was everywhere, making Weatherby’s eyes water and his nose wrinkle up. He felt the pain in his chest and his face from his recent injuries, making each movement ache. But he didn’t care. Peggy needed him.
    The demons charged at them from the kitchen, howling as they leapt over the couches and armchairs. Mort raised both his automatics and started firing. The heavy bullets plowed thick holes through the demons, raising clouds of reddish smoke when they hit. The demons gibbered and snarled as they died, their clubs and pitchforks falling from their hands.
    “Get the girl! I’ll cover you!” Mort cried, as they hurried to the kitchen. Mort kept shooting, as Weatherby scanned the kitchen. Blue smoke was everywhere, hiding the room in a choking mist. Weatherby looked around, his heart pounding as he tried to find Peggy.
    Astaroth had her. He was holding on to her slim waist with his clawed hands, his mouth open to reveal sharp teeth. On the tiled floor, the giant serpent had wrapped around Butch. Its heavy coils choked him, and Butch’s eyes bulged, his mouth open in a frozen scream.
    Weatherby started toward Peggy. Butch’s two friends were on the ground, a pair of demons poking at them with pitchforks and laughing. Weatherby moved quickly, hurling a pair of crucifixes at the demons. The crosses burned as they touched red demon skin, and the fiends stepped back.
    “Get outside! Get out of here!” Weatherby told the two football players. They stood up and followed his instructions, running away as they clutched their bloody wounds and sobbed. Weatherby looked up at Astaroth, and at Peggy and Butch. “Let them go!” he demanded. “Return to the Inferno! You’ll have no sacrifice tonight!”
    The demon Astaroth stared up at Weatherby and the boy quaked under his gaze. Everything about Astaroth spoke of death, terror, Hellfire and despair, and looking into the demon’s eyes was seeing light and love banished forever. Weatherby held his ground.  Astaroth licked his lips, the demon’s tongue forked like that of his serpentine companion. “What do you have that could stop me, boy?” Peggy was crying as Astaroth held her, tears silently falling down her face.
    Weatherby