Page 27 of Monsters of Midlife

Ratchet raised a finger to get my attention and I suddenly realized I had to be careful or else I would give away Caroline’s existence and her location without even meaning to. By the look on Ratchet’s face, he already calculated that long before we got here but he’d been silenced by me.

“My demons have done nothing wrong,” Thrain said. “They do their job taking the souls of the dead away.”

“There was a report of an attack in Boston,” I responded. “A human’s house disappeared and there’s only one place it could’ve gone. I was there to witness it and it went to Undirheim. So, perhaps you want to rethink this before you start defending your demons.”

Thrain cocked his head to the side, glancing over at the portal keeper who had called him forward. “Do you know anything about this?”

“It was ordered by someone,” I pointed out. “So, whether it was your people or not I’m going to hold the demons responsible until we find out who it was. And I’m going to leave Ratchet here until you tell me something,”

Ratchet’s head whipped around and looked at me with dismay on his face. “I’m not staying here.”

I turned back to look at Thrain. “Ratchet doesn’t want to stay. So, he’ll probably start killing other demons and causing a scene if I leave him. Who knows? He can get crazy like that. You better figure it out. I know Set was involved because he acted as a decoy while your demons did the deed.”

“You can’t come into my world accusing my people of doing things,” Thrain argued. “I’ve always been honorable to the DGC, and I have never interfered with living humans.”

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to sort it out and find out who did it,” I negotiated.

“I’m not staying here for twenty-four hours.” Ratchet growled towards me.

“I can help out a little faster,” the demon who guarded the portal said. We all turned to him.

“What do you know?” Thrain grumbled at him.

“Not much,” he said suddenly taking a step backwards from his overlord. “I just heard some demons talking that there was a bet one of them lost, but it wasn’t to another demon.”

“Was it to Set?” I asked.

“No,” the portal guardian took a deep breath, clearly not relishing the information he was about to impart. “A demon lost a bet to a monster.”

“There are no other monsters operating on earth,” I said with surety.

“What about the one in Cougar Creek?” Ratchet asked.

“Torn? He’s the last one who would be going around hurting humans. I’m positive.” I vouched for the kind monster who was making a life on Earth. “It can’t be him. Are you sure they said it’s a monster?”

“Demons may manipulate but they don’t lie,” Thrain pointed out. “If he said a monster is responsible for this thing, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Ryder.”

“I’m going to have to agree with him,” said Ratchet. “We’re looking for a monster, not a demon.”

Chapter 18

CAROLINE

I was pretty sure we were way past the time we were allotted to be at Furlan’s Bar, which was apparently a satyr bikers’ hangout. I had a few drinks in me and was feeling good. I’d learned a lot about Alameda. It was the home of the witches, and they kept a barrier around the place to keep it safe. That was why Ryder thought it would be a safe place for me to stay. Alameda was an old 1950s town, but it had a naval base taking up one side of it. There were two main streets. The one we were on made up of low-rise brick buildings and on one corner was a dark building with a large black paned window. It was clearly to protect all the nefarious residents inside the bar.

Truth be told, I hadn’t been into a bar like this before. I was a little more used to the uppity Bostonian polished wood, brass, and stained-glass Irish bars that covered my home turf. This was a little more 1950s Americana with a row of motorcycles parked out front. Didn’t look like the kind of place I’d frequent at all.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I asked Sophie, leaning in a bit after my third drink.

“Yes,” she chuckled as she smiled and put her hand behind my back to steady me.

The interior had booths made of red leather, a throwback from the 60s when apparently it had been considered cool. The stench of the bar wafted over me. It was like the bar hadn’t had any fresh air in it; the stink of stale liquor and cigarette smoke clung to the air, leaving a cloying smoky taste in my mouth. I wasn’t quite sure I was a fan of it, but it didn’t seem to matter to Sophie. She had moved through the crowd and straight up to the bar where we had stood drinking ever since our arrival. I glanced around at the people in the bar, who all periodically stared at me. I didn’t think a middle-aged maven would get that much attention, but it was like they knew I was different. They knew I wasn’t one of them. I didn’t care. They served alcohol. I wanted alcohol, and that seemed to be a good enough reason for me.

Ignoring everybody, I turned back to Sophie.

“Can I borrow your phone?” I asked.

“Nope,” she said. “That would be way against Ryder’s rules.”

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