Page 8 of Firefly

He stalked through the shadows, sensing the moment Astaroth reappeared. He wasn’t sure how he knew Astaroth from the other demons. There was just something about him that was different. Once, when Simon had encountered a particularly strong demon, the signature was similar but not quite the same.

“Ssstill sssaving damsssels?” he hissed in Simon’s ear.

Simon ignored the demon, tuning his senses to the night. It was just after two in the morning, and patrons were stumbling out of side doors and down walkways in droves, leaving the after-hours clubs. Some would head home, but others were intent on chasing the high.

Those were the men he was seeking.

A bawdy group who draped arms over each other’s shoulders, slurring profanities, caught his eye. As the group turned off the main street, two inky shapes peeled themselves from the walls behind the men.

Simon waited until they were corporeal enough to sink his teeth into before he struck. He hooked the first between his fingers, biting into the second just enough to gain his full attention.

The first wriggled in his grip, working to get free, but the second, whose essence dribbled onto his tongue, froze. He wrapped his other arm around him, slowly letting his teeth retract enough to loosen his hold before biting into the first.

The demon caught in his arms dematerialized, freeing himself from Simon’s hold, and Simon bit down on a curse as he latched onto the other.

When his nails or his teeth broke skin, something stopped the creatures from escaping. He wasn’t sure why or how, but there were many things he didn’t understand about his new life.

Like how Rebecca could look at him like she might still have some shred of feelings for him one moment, then race out of the room in terror the next. Or how, after so many months and his own death, she still consumed his thoughts every night.

Simon tugged the squirming creature in his arms—hooked through the shoulder by his nails—through the darkened streets, keeping his eyes peeled for any demons that might race to this one’s aid.

It was rare, but it had happened on occasion.

In his new state, Simon no longer possessed the ability to heal from his wounds, caught somewhere between life and death. His body didn’t age or weaken, but neither did it heal. He was faster and stronger than demons, but they were cunning devils who might gain the upper hand if they managed to sneak up on him.

He reached the outskirts of the city as the demon realized he wasn’t in immediate danger and began a slew of curses aimed at Simon’s character. Often, they were silent creatures when they weren’t whispering deceit in human ears, and he wished this one had been the same.

When its droning had gone on longer than he could stand, he let his canines lengthen, opening his mouth in threat.

The demon’s curses evaporated and were quickly replaced by pleas.

“Please, for the love of everything holy. Shut up,” he groaned.

Safely outside the city and the eyes of humans, he burst into an unnatural run, digging his nails deeper into the demon’s flesh. Green trickled down his fingers, whipping past him as he ran faster.

Of course, Astaroth had been no help. Rather than catching the second demon, he’d vanished, leaving Simon to do the dirty work.

Simon still marveled at never getting tired in his new form, even when he ran for hours. He’d once run most of the night, arriving just before dawn at his destination, and had no trouble catching his breath the moment he stopped at the edge of the beach in Monterey Bay. What might have taken weeks by train had taken him only one night.

It was his first time in California. It was his first time anywhere outside the East Coast. For just a moment, he’d imagined staying there forever, starting a new life for himself, but something tugged at his chest, calling him back to Bath, North Carolina, and the man who now owned him.

As the forest grew dense with oak and maple trees and the familiar scent of the North Carolina coastline assaulted him, he slowed. The demon in his grasp was suspiciously silent, and he turned the creature to face him, only to sigh in exasperation.

The demon’s head listed to the side, his essence near depletion.

Simon huffed before biting into the creature and sucking the last of his essence dry. When nothing remained but the green ooze coating Simon’s fingers, he sped the rest of the way to the estate.

Alexander would not be pleased.

Chapter 7

Rebecca

Rebecca set Sarah down on her favorite yellow blanket in a patch of grass where they might enjoy the dying embers of the sun’s warmth before night fell.

Sarah cooed and giggled, rolling onto her back to stare up at the changing sky.

It was Rebecca’s favorite time of day: when the world drank in the last rays of sun in preparation for night. As the sun set, the world was bathed in sepia tones, and only the bravest stars peeked out from behind fading clouds.

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