“That shouldn't be a problem.” I pushed away from the counter. “Give me a shout if things start getting busy.”
She nodded. I headed upstairs to find Belle sitting in the middle of our two-seater, her feet up on the coffee table and an old, rather large leather-bound book resting on her lap.
“There's an energy drink in the fridge,” she said, without looking up.
“Thanks. I'll grab it after a shower.”
Once I'd cleaned up and slathered the various scrapes with a potion that would not only numb them, but also help accelerate healing, I dragged on jeans and a top then went back out to
grab the drink.
“What are you reading?”
“I went through the index to see if Gran had anything on skin walkers, and found a book on different types of fire demons instead.”
“Is ours in there?”
“There's a couple of possibilities, but it'd be handy to know if we were dealing with one entity or two.”
“Even Monty isn't sure of that as yet.”
“Monty hasn't been here long, and didn't see the first victim,” she commented. “What are your instincts telling you?”
I half smiled. “They flip-flop between one being and two.”
“Which is absolutely no help.”
“I know.” I walked over to the sofa and plonked down beside her. “Why? What have you found?”
She turned the book so that I could see it more clearly and then pointed to a picture. It was a hand drawn but beautifully detailed depiction of a bite wound—one that looked almost identical to the wounds that had decorated Kyle Jacobson’s body.
“And the demon responsible?”
“A soucouyant, apparently.” She turned the book around to read the text. “According to this, it's a demon who takes on the form of an old woman by day but who sheds her skin at night and takes on a fire form to hunt and kill her victims.”
“By draining their blood, I take it?”
She nodded. “It can apparently enter victims’ homes through any hole, including cracks and keyholes.”
“Which is what happened at Kyle Jacobson’s place but not any of the others.” I studied the picture for a little bit longer. “Is that all it does? It's not a shape shifter of any kind?”
“There’s a side note that says she found some references in a couple of medieval manuscripts that stated a soucouyant can also transform herself into to a gorgeous-looking young woman at night. She then seduces her victims with her looks and her dance, and once fully enthralled, she drains them of blood.”
“I'm gathering 'dance' is a metaphor for sex in this case.”
“I suspect so. Scholars of old were pretty cagey when it came to that sort of stuff.”
“Does it say how to kill it?” I warily took a sip of the energy drink, but it was surprisingly free of its usual muddy taste.
Belle grinned. “That's because I wasn't about to drink something that tasted like boiled socks.”
“So the secret to getting decent-tasting potions is to ensure you also need a dose?”
“It depends on how drained we are but generally, yes. But you're well aware of why most of them taste like shit.”
“Because sugar interferes with the efficiency of the brew,” I intoned, imitating her voice. “I know, but a little bit of honey—”
“Is still a sugar. Stop whining and just drink the muck.”