Page 28 of Speak of the Devil

But what the hell — pardon the expression — was a demon doing here in Las Vegas?

Even as the question surfaced in his mind, he thought he knew the answer well enough. Demons loved to feed on negative emotions, and there were certainly enough of those bubbling away in Sin City at any given time. Greed, lust, gluttony…a whole smorgasbord of the seven deadly sins was on offer here to an enterprising demon who decided to go slumming. They couldn’t stay permanently, of course, but they could hang out long enough to do some damage.

There came that lifting of the hair at the back of his neck again, and he somehow knew the thing had come closer to him. Had it been able to sense his part-demon nature, just as he also knew it was somewhere close by?

Probably. Demons had their own super-attuned senses, and while they weren’t exactly like his, they were definitely strong enough to make a formidable adversary.

If that was even what was going on here. For all he knew, the demon that had hidden itself in the Friday night crowds that filled the sidewalks along the Strip was only tailing him because it had sensed another of its kind in the immediate vicinity and wanted to come over and give him the demonic equivalent of a secret handshake.

Somehow he doubted that was the case, though. His time in Hell had taught him that every demon was out for itself, and he’d only been left alone because — despite being just one-quarter demon — he was more powerful than many of them, thanks to the way the demonic blood he’d inherited had come down from one of Belial’s lieutenants, some of the strongest demons in existence.

But even though he thought he might be able to defeat whoever or whatever was following him, Caleb still wished he’d gone quietly into one of the public bathrooms in the Venetianand teleported himself back home. He could have come back to retrieve the Range Rover in the morning once the coast was clear.

He hadn’t, though, which meant he needed to keep walking and pretend he hadn’t noticed anything strange about one of the people in the crowd that surrounded him. At least he’d maintained the disguise of the mild-mannered, paunchy, middle-aged man he was pretending to be, so even if the demon decided to attack, it still wouldn’t know what his true face looked like.

Past Flamingo Road, and then at last into the parking garage at the Bellagio. Once there, Caleb couldn’t help sending a quick glance over his shoulder, but no one was anywhere nearby.

Had he been imagining things?

No, there had definitely been a demon. After spending two years surrounded by the infernal creatures, he knew all too well what the things smelled like, like someone who hadn’t taken a shower in years finally deciding to have a dunk in a sulfurous hot spring.

It didn’t seem to have come into the parking garage, so either it had decided he wasn’t worthwhile prey after all, or it had hung back, waiting to see what he did.

His Range Rover was up on the third level. Caleb hesitated for a moment, trying to decide which way of getting there was more dangerous — stairs or elevator?

Both options had their own upsides and downsides, but after weighing them in his mind, he decided the stairwell was probably the better option. Worse come to worst, he could always teleport himself home and come back for the SUV, whereas if he was trapped in the elevator with any hapless humans who had the bad luck to be inside when his pursuer attacked, he’d have a lot fewer options.

It was never a good idea to show off your powers like that, not when doing so always led to a whole lot of unanswerable questions.

At least the stairs were well-lit and didn’t offer many places for even a demon to lurk in the shadows. Caleb took the stairs two at a time, not caring if his actions contrasted sharply with the overweight man in his fifties he was pretending to be.

No one was around to see him anyway.

However, he slowed his pace when he emerged from the stairwell, pausing so he could send a wary look at his surroundings. Up here, there weren’t nearly as many cars as there had been a few hours earlier, telling him that he wasn’t the only one who’d decided to call it a night and head for home base.

Unless they’d only moved their partying operations to a different hotel.

Either way, it didn’t matter to him. What mattered was that he appeared to be alone up here, and he didn’t have that creepy-crawly sensation on the back of his neck, the one that down on the street had told him a demon was somewhere close.

Time to get the hell out of Dodge.

He reached into his pocket to touch the fob and unlock the Range Rover as he approached, walking quickly. A few more paces, and then he was there, pulling the messenger bag off his neck so he could toss it onto the passenger seat.

Before he could start to climb in behind the wheel, though, something dove off the roof of the SUV and plowed into him, knocking him to the ground.

Son of a bitch.

The demon was shorter than he, with grayish skin and red eyes and a bulging, bulbous head adorned by a pair of pointed ears. Because it was so small, it must have flattened itself against the roof of the Range Rover and hidden itself that way. Caleb had no idea what face it had worn while walking through the crowd,but it clearly had decided there was no need to disguise itself now, not when they were alone up here on the third floor of the parking structure.

“Take a hike,” he said clearly, and the demon hissed at him.

“I want the bag,” it said, and Caleb raised an eyebrow.

“To do what with? It’s not like you need cash in Hell to cover the mortgage or pay for groceries.”

Another hiss. “You’re a cheat. You shouldn’t have that money at all.”

All right, he had to acknowledge that accusation was true enough. Still, he had to survive in the human world…and the demon didn’t.

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