Page 14 of Helsing: Demon Slayer
Ryan lifted his chin toward the far side of the deck landing. “4458.”
The security officer waited for them to exit the stairs before walking alongside Dianne. Tension rolled from him. When they reached the cabin, Ryan turned back to him.
Touching something that glinted on the security officer’s chest, he held the man’s gaze. “Do you believe?”
The fear in the man’s eyes shifted to confidence. His shoulders pulled back. “I do.”
To Dianne’s amazement a new radiance revealed a crucifix on his chest, expanding to meld with the faint glow that still emanated from Ryan’s own pendant.
“Good.” Ryan nodded. “Because it will keep you safe.”
The man nodded back. He waited until Ryan had swiped his keycard before pivoting and walking away. A pale aura limned his figure as he disappeared in the murky light.
Ryan drew Dianne inside his cabin where emergency lighting illuminated the gloomy space.
She waited until he’d shut the door behind them before asking, “What in the hell is going on? What happened to those people? And why did you call that woman a demon?”
Ryan ignored her. By the sounds and his shadowy movements, he seemed to be searching for something. A moment later, artificial light sprang from an object in his hands as he turned to Dianne.
“That’s because adaemonpossessed her,” he said, his voice grim. “Thedaemonsent for you.”
Five
Dianneswayedonherfeet after he said that, and Ryan cursed himself silently for not taking care of her injuries and physical needs first. There was time enough to bring her up to speed on the reality of the immaterial world of angelic beings and the hidden war being fought between the Heavenly Host under the Archangel Michael and the Fallen Watcher Angels, or DarkIrim, and their vast legions of evil minions, humanandspirits.
Like thedaemonswho’d possessed the dance party on the pool deck of their cruise.
“We can discuss this later,” he said, setting the emergency lantern he’d activated down on the small desk. “It’s time to take a better look at you.”
“I’m fine,” she said, but the sharpness she intended ended in a slight groan that ruined it.
Turning to her, Ryan said, “I’ll be the judge of that” as he placed both hands on her upper arms and eased her toward the bed.
She didn’t resist and let him guide her to a sitting position. The gorgeous blonde who’d knocked his socks off earlier at dinner and nearly distracted him from his one job—namely protecting her—looked worse for the wear. Her right eye had swollen shut. The silky blond hair that his fingers had itched to run through had become a tangled mess with an obvious bald spot low and on the right side. Angry scratches crisscrossed her cheeks and the skin of her bare arms, even the skin of her upper chest, showcased by the formerly dramatic V-neck of her blouse.
“First, some water,” he said, stuffing his fury at her injuries into the mental compartment that he’d built for such distractions. If he hadn’t, he might have been dead in combat a long time ago.
He opened the small refrigerator wedged next to the closet. He’d stockpiled several bottles of water even though he’d brough a large refillable metal bottle in his luggage. In his experience, he could manage a survival scenario without a lot of things, but drinking water wasn’t one of them.
“Here,” he said, handing her the bottle. Thankfully, she accepted it. “You’ll need to flush out whatever toxin they spiked the shots and gummies with, so keep sipping that.”
“It felt like ecstasy, only worse,” she said. When Ryan looked at her, she shrugged, winced, and went on, “I tried it in college at a club.” She didn’t elaborate, but Ryan sensed regret in the curt statement.
Kneeling, he searched in his backpack, which he’d slid under the desk. He had several chocolate bars there. He swiveled on his knees and handed Dianne one of them. “We all make mistakes. Mine just involved a fast car and alcohol. Make sure you eat some of that chocolate.” He nodded toward the candy bar she held. “Dementors are real, and sugar helps when your adrenaline crashes.”
He paused a moment as she took that in. “But this wasn’t just a party drug gone bad. Thedaemonsmanipulated the reactions of those who’d taken it. Anything nasty, cruel, selfish, ravenous—all of humanity’s basest inclinations—thedaemonsfed on and amplified. Then they possessed anyone who opened the door of their will to them.”
“It seemed like damn near everyone except you,” said Dianne before sipping water. She looked at the chocolate in her hand. “WiseHerb. I don’t recognize this brand. It must be European.” She raised it to her nose and inhaled. “Rosemary? That's an interesting choice.”
Ryan returned to his pack to search again. “Take it up with your sister.” He turned with his med kit in hand. “That’s her company. It mostly makes herbal products, but she recently negotiated a deal with Ghanian and Sierra Leone cocoa farmers to import cocoa beans as long as they don’t use child labor. I brought some of the first product lines.”
“Sounds like Olivia. Out to save the world.” Ryan heard a note of bitterness leavened with wistfulness in her voice.
He opened the kit on the bed next to Dianne and pulled out a penlight. Snapping it on, he turned to her. “Look at me. I’m going to check your pupil, see if you got a concussion from being tossed around like a bag of potatoes.”
She sat patiently while he used his thumb to raise her eyelid and told her to look in different directions. The uninjured eye reacted normally, but it didn’t rule out a concussion. He’d know more when the swelling on the other eye subsided.
“What was that you sang back there?” she asked as he turned the light off and dropped it into the med kit. “It sure didn’t sound like something you learned in the Army.”
