A Terrible Fall of Angels (Zaniel Havelock #1)(115)

The demon laughed again. “You still don’t understand what we are, do you?”

“I know you’re a demon and he’s a college student who thought you’d give him his heart’s desire for the use of his body.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong as far as that goes,” Cookson said.

“Demon, what do you mean, demon? What are you talking about?” the boyfriend asked.

Shelby was pulling him farther away from Cookson. She looked frightened. I don’t know what Cookson’s face looked like because all I could see was the back of his head, but she was seeing something that made her want them both out of his reach. I approved, one less thing to worry about. Where was my backup?

“Lace your fingers on top of your head, now,” I said.

“And if I don’t, are you really going to shoot me in the head for just standing here with my hands raised? Will you honestly shoot me, kill me, just because I won’t follow every order to the letter? You’re a good man, Detective. Good men don’t shoot unarmed civilians in the head when their arms are raised in the air.”

“I will not let you hurt anyone else,” I said, holding the Sig Sauer P238 in a steady one-handed grip aimed at the back of his head. The gun was so small in my hand that a standard two-handed grip was awkward.

“A bad cop that doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life in jail doesn’t shoot unarmed civilians, even murderers, when he’s on security camera,” Cookson said.

I glanced up and there it was: a camera angled exactly right to see me shoot someone that looked human. If I shot him before he did something threatening, and he died, losing my career was the least of my worries.

“I can smell your hesitation, Detective—Havoc, wasn’t that what they called you at the hospital?”

I ignored him and said, “Shelby, take your boyfriend and stay as far across the room from us as you can; do not let him grab you, but go out the front door. There should be uniformed cops out there in a marked car.”

“I won’t let them leave,” Cookson said with his hands raised at the elbow as if he were doing the minimum to look cooperative. Most security cameras didn’t have sound, or not good sound, so his hands up were clearly visible; me yelling for him to lace his fingers might not be clear in the video. It would look like I shot him after he gave up. Heaven help me, but I needed him to look dangerous on the security tape before I fired.

“I won’t let you hurt them,” I said. I nodded at Shelby and she took her boyfriend as far from us as the glass jewelry cases on the other side would allow.

“Unless you have a major holy relic on you, Detective Havoc, you can’t stop me.”

“A holy object will be enough,” I said, still staring at the back of his well-cut hair. My gun was still pointed, one-handed and steady.

Shelby and her beau were moving slowly along the far display cases toward the door.

“I’m not a vampire, Detective; you can’t chase me away with crosses.”

“Not that kind of holy object,” I said.

“Ankh, pentagram, Star of David, throw the Qur’an at me, it’s all the same and all just as useless against me now.”

I thought about what he’d said, against him now. What did he mean by that?

“Don’t lose your nerve, Shelby,” Cookson said.

My gaze flicked to them but didn’t actually look away from the man I was aiming at, so it was hard for me to judge what he was talking to her about.

“If you run for the door, I will stop you,” Cookson said.

“Just move slow,” I said, “don’t run. Demons are like big cats, you run, and they will chase you.”

“He doesn’t look like a demon,” she said, but her voice was strained thin. Cookson was right, her nerve was failing; she was going to make a break for the door soon unless she regained control of herself.

“He’s possessed Mark Cookson’s body,” I said.

“It was a fixer-upper,” Cookson said, “but I’ve done wonders with it, don’t you think, Shelby?”

“Ye . . . yes,” she almost stuttered.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?” I asked.

“Jeff, my name’s Jeff.”

“Keep her calm, Jeff, go slow for the door.”

“I won’t let them leave, Detective, you know that.”

“How are you going to stop us?” Jeff asked.

“I’m going to kill you, Jeff. I’m going to kill you both.”

“I won’t let that happen,” I said.

“How will you protect them from me after you’re dead?”

“You won’t kill me,” I said.

“Oh, I think I will.”

“I know you won’t,” I said.

“Cocky, I like that in a victim. It’s always the confident ones that beg the most at the end.”

I was fighting so my hand didn’t start to shake with the gun held out and aimed. I was either going to have to lower it, change hands, or change to a two-handed grip. I’d wanted to keep one hand free just in case, because I’d shot him in the hospital and hadn’t killed him; of course I hadn’t tried shooting him in the head point-blank, but guns were never the first choice for demon fighting.