Ruined (The Eternal Balance #1)(50)

“And it’s not a bloodbath, either. Might be nice to keep it that way.”

“See what I mean? Bad attitude.” With a pointed nod toward Sam, he sighed. “What ya lookin’ for?”

Things were getting messier by the minute. I launched right into it. “What does it mean if someone is demon touched?”

Demons didn’t put off emotion the way humans did, so reading them was harder, but body language was body language. Heckle was scared.

“I’m not getting any younger,” I prodded.

“Every demon is different. Most have no lasting side effects when feeding, flu-like symptoms or blurred vision for a few days—I’m betting you leave folks with quite a headache after you do your thing. Some, though, leave some nasty calling cards.” The bartender’s brows rose. “Might help if you told me more about the situation. What kind are we talking about here?”

“I don’t know. Sam is being hunted by demons. We don’t know why, but we heard one say she was demon touched. I need to know if we have anything to worry about.”

Heckle watched him with an odd expression.”You care about her, right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“And you have no idea why someone would target her specifically?”

My patience was officially drained. I slipped from the stool and leaned across the bar, stopping inches away from the annoying bartender’s face. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking, right?”

Heckle backed away and threw up both hands in an exaggerated show of surrender. “Okay, okay. To be demon touched means a high-ranking demon has fed from the human. Even the smallest demon leaves a tiny mark on their feed. Like I said, it’s usually nothing that lasts, but the stronger ones can create a link.”

“A link?” Sam asked.

“Think of it as a symbiotic relationship. What happens to the demon, happens to the linked human. If the demon is truly powerful, he can also control the human. Make it do his bidding.”

Sam was pale. “What can we do to break it?”

“The first thing you need to do is find out who the demon was that fed from her. Some can be broken. Others can’t.”

“Any idea how we can do that? Find the demon?” Sam asked, voice a little shaky. She’d pushed the beer aside.

“There is someone that might be able to tell you. A demon named Havat Doyle.”

Sam looked hopeful. “Where can we find him—or, is it a her?”

“Oh, Doyle is a he, all right. You can find him in the War Zone most afternoons and evenings.”

“The war zone?” I asked, sure I didn’t love the sound of it.

Heckle’s bushy brows waggled as he poured himself another shot. “You never been in the War Zone? Well, you’re in for one hell of a treat.”





Chapter Twenty-Two




Sam

Heckle walked in front of us, whistling a vaguely familiar tune. I wasn’t the violent type, but if he didn’t stop, there was a chance I’d smack him in the back of the head. Obviously Jax had rubbed off on me.

He led us down a narrow, wooded path, looking back once to give the thumbs-up sign. Yeah. This was how horror movies started. The poor, stupid couple followed some weirdo into the woods only to be hacked to pieces and then eaten by sparsely toothed men wearing overalls and mismatched shoes.

“How much farther?” Jax asked coolly. We’d followed Heckle in Rick’s car, all the way to a sprawling estate on the outskirts of town. From the state of the property, no one had been out this way in a long time. The grass was past my knees, and as we finally approached the house, I could see several of the windows broken out.

“Just around the back of the house. There’s a cellar underneath.”

Jax paused. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me to a stop. “Tell us what we’re doing here.”

Heckle turned and sighed. “I’m going to introduce you to Havat Doyle. Remember?”

“What exactly is this War Zone thing?”

“Demons are a nasty, volatile bunch.” Heckle tapped Jax on the shoulder. “But like you, they have their limitations. They’re bound by the frailties and boundaries of a human body. Maybe not to the same extreme as you—full-blooded demons weren’t born into their humans, they were forced into them. They still retain some of what they were.”

“So what does this all have to do with the War Zone?”

“Like I said, volatile bunch. They need to let off steam. That’s what the War Zone is for.” Heckle glanced back at the house. “Are we done playing twenty questions?” he called over his shoulder, walking away.

We had no choice but to follow.

Around the house and past a set of rusty cellar doors, Heckle led us through a wine cellar that would have made Kelly drool all over herself. We snaked down the aisles, stepping over forgotten bottles that had fallen from collapsed shelves, and when we came out on the other side, there was a door that opened to a narrow, unlit staircase.

Once we arrived at the bottom, Heckle turned and prevented us from going any farther “A few things before we go in.” Gaze swiveling to Jax, he frowned. He cringed a little. “I can only take one of you in. It has to be Sam.”

“What?” we exclaimed in unison.