Still, habit was habit, and it wasn’t going to change just because of individual circumstances.
We watched and waited to see if there would be more arrivals, and a full five minutes later a sixth person headed down the alley.
“That’ll be all of them,” Harold said.
“How can you be sure?”
“Six. Five points of a pentagram, and then an anchor outside. The whole circle is represented.” He made a circle in the air with a claw to illustrate his explanation.
“Then I guess we go,” I said.
It was hard to read his expression, seeing as he didn’t have a human face, but I got the sense he wasn’t really psyched about the prospect of us interrupting the ceremony. I couldn’t tell if that was because he wanted it to happen or he didn’t want to be around when it did.
I mean, I didn’t want to be close when it happened, either, but we were here to do a job, and this had sort of been his idea. Telling us about it had, anyway. Which meant we couldn’t exactly change our minds now.
Oops, you know, I have a bikini wax appointment, so I need to go.
Nope.
I slipped the remote detonator into the front pocket of my button-down flannel shirt. The trigger itself had a cover I would need to lift in order to engage the switch, so I wasn’t at risk of it going off accidentally. I didn’t make a big show of the process, but I wanted him to know that his attendance wasn’t really optional.
He caught my drift and opened his car door, contorting himself awkwardly to get out. I followed along, and we shut the doors quietly behind us. There was an FBI van around here somewhere, filled with agents ready to jump in at a moment’s notice if things went wrong.
I was hoping not to see them.
It was actually probably for the best I didn’t know where they were because I’d only be self-conscious, worrying Tyler was judging my every move. He and I had developed a thoroughly complicated relationship over the years, in which I wanted very badly to impress him, but also to give him no indication whatsoever that his opinion mattered to me.
Harold and I moved through the darkness in silence. For such a big guy he was light on his feet, making no sound as he trailed behind me like a grisly-looking guardian angel.
Of course, it didn’t escape my attention that this all might very well be a trap and he was leading me to my death. But if that was the case, I would make damn sure to pull the kill switch before I went down.
You want to trick me? Fine. But I’m going to blow your goddamn head off in the process.
That’s how I hoped I would go down. Blaze of glory, taking as many monsters with me as possible.
Or, at least, that’s how I imagined it. In reality my ultimate demise would probably end up being unromantic and deeply uncool. I’d likely get drowned in a sewer somewhere.
Ashes to ashes. Shit to shit.
With that profoundly cheerful thought in mind, I held up my hand, signaling Harold to stop. His hulking figure at my back didn’t make me uneasy. Surprisingly it gave me a sense of comfort and protection. I was weird like that.
The six figures we’d seen come down the alley were gathered in a circle, and each was taking time drawing intricate markings on the ground in charcoal. Candles were lit all around them, making me wonder what kind of candles demon-summoning vampires would use. Did they wait for sales at Bath & Body Works and then stock up on Marshmallow Fireside? Or did they buy bulk tealights from Ikea?
Demon ritual work seemed like the sort of thing that demanded some conscientious candle budgeting.
I was known to spend about three hundred bucks a year on candles, and the only thing I summoned with them was some relaxation in the bathtub.
These looked like some run-of-the-mill dollar-store pillar candles.
If I were a demon, I’d be offended.
But maybe demons were like werewolves in that they didn’t like powerful scents, in which case it probably didn’t matter.
“Secret?”
Oh, shit, right. I was on a mission.
I shushed him and continued to scan the area. In addition to the six hooded figures—I honestly couldn’t tell if they were male or female—a big lump was bundled on the ground nearby in roughly the shape of a human body.