Insurrection (Nevermore #1)

And one old rusted-out moonshine still from back in the days of Prohibition when it’d supposedly gotten possessed by an angry demon who was running amok in an Appalachian hill town . . . but that was another story.

The good news was that when it came to things like this, her father didn’t blink an eye. But he did rush to action, and he always took it seriously.

“All right, baby girl. You know what to do. The cavalry’s coming. You hold tight and we’ll be there by morning.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” Normally, it would take about nine-and-a-half hours to make the drive from where her daddy lived in Wedowee to her apartment in Richmond. But given her dire circumstances, and her father’s propensity for ignoring the posted limitations on speed, she’d expect him in about seven.

Her daddy was awesome that way.

And she knew he wouldn’t bother to pack. He always kept a bug-out sack of clothes and his exorcism bag in his old Army HMMWV for just such emergencies (or a zombie apocalypse, ‘cause one could never be too careful).

Yeah, Old Scratch had no idea what he was in for.

Then again, given that he’d gone a few rounds with her father in the past, he probably did. And for once, the demons had picked the wrong person to muck with.

Smiling, Anna started back for her Jeep in the parking lot, then remembered that she actually did need milk. Given that the devil had recently moved into her apartment, it kept spoiling on her.

By the time she returned home, Anna saw a dark figure in the driveway.

Hmm...

Demon or thief?

Human or ghoul?

She grabbed her Bio Freeze spray from under her seat—which was legal and more effective than pepper spray—as well as her holy water, just to cover all bases, and got out of her Jeep.

Making sure that she had her keys ready to open the front door, she headed for the stoop.

The shadow moved.

Anna lifted her arm to hose it down with both bottles. If one didn’t work, the other would.

“Whoa there, Texarkana! Not the eyes!” The tall, gorgeous woman, clad in black leather, held her arm up to shield her elaborate black makeup that was reminiscent of Brandon Lee in The Crow, except the lines were much more deliberate and defined, and appeared to be ancient alchemy symbols. “I’m not wearing waterproof mascara. Which in retrospect was a poor life decision, given my line of work.”

Anna hesitated at the sight of this newcomer. Her straight, waist-length black hair was liberally streaked with gray, and pulled back into a high ponytail. A solid black pentagram choker rested on her throat above a hematite pendulum that dangled between her ample breasts, which were barely covered by a loose fishnet top. The only thing that kept her transparent shirt from being obscene was a tight leather corset. And she’d finished her outfit off with black crocheted shorts over skin-tight leather leggings and thigh high, stacked boots. Along with a stylish leather coat that fell all the way to her ankles.

But the creepiest thing about her were her eyes that were stark, crystal white in the darkness.

If those weren’t theater contacts, that only left one conclusion ...

“Are you one of my ghosts screwing with me?”

“No.”

“Then why are you dressed like an eighties social reject?”

“Ow! That’s a bit harsh, considering your father sent me here to watch over you, and help.”

Sucking her breath in sharply, Anna cringed with regret. Apparently, she’d been hanging out with Luke too much lately. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But you do look like you just stepped out of the movie, The Craft.”

“First, that movie is from the nineties, and no, I don’t. For your information, I was dressing like this long before the actors who starred in it were either born or house-broken. And for what I do, this outfit works well as it tends to scare little kids, old men, and hides bloodstains. Plus, it’s easy to clean, and it’s biodegradable.”

Not what she was expecting the woman to say by a long shot. And it definitely quelled any smart aleck retort she had.

“Okay, then. I’m hoping you don’t mean my blood.”

“Me, too.” Well that wasn’t even a little comforting from where Anna was standing. “And for the record, who are you?”

“The Witch of Endor.”

Anna arched a brow at another thing she wasn’t expecting this stranger to say. “As in the biblical necromancer?”

She inclined her head.

Anna was impressed, except for one thing she needed to straighten out. “I’m assuming by that, it’s a title thing. You’re not really the same woman who summoned up King Samuel. ‘Cause that would make you what... a billion years old?”

She smirked. “Not quite. But yeah, I’m a bit long in the tooth.”

“Uzarah!”

Anna froze at the deep demonic groan that echoed from her building. “What was that?”

“The demon calling my name.” She wrinkled her nose. “He and I are old friends. We basically cruised the Stone Age on dinosaurs together. Hung out. Brought down a few dynasties. Fun times.” Clearing her throat, she glanced toward Anna’s apartment window without Anna having told her which one it was. “Achish, old buddy! How’s it hanging? I heard you’ve been a bad boy lately.”

Lights exploded through the apartment building like a sped-up freaky Christmas exhibition on YouTube. A screeching howl started inside the old building, then crescendoed louder and louder as it threatened to break windows and splinter Anna’s eardrums.

Anna covered her ears, and cringed in fear.

Uzarah tsked at her. “Don’t react to him. He’s an attention hog. Like a pesky little brother. Ignore the brat and he’ll stop.”

To prove her point, Uzarah yawned.

The moment she did, the demon screamed and manifested in front of her in all his ugly, dark green glory. Towering over the witch, he growled with flaming scarlet eyes.

Uzarah let out another exaggerated yawn, and waved her hand over her mouth. Twice.

He gestured one clawed hand toward Anna. “I own her!”

Uzarah shrugged nonchalantly. “You cheated. She didn’t know she was giving up her soul. Do we really have to get lawyers involved?”

“She signed in blood!”

Arching a brow that basically said ‘Are you stupid or what’, Uzarah glared at Anna.

“No, I didn’t!” She glanced between them, and stood on her tiptoes to drive home her point. “I know for a fact I didn’t! I’d never do something that . . .” She froze as she remembered the pen she’d used in the realtor’s office. It’d been unusually sharp at the point. So sharp that she’d accidentally pricked her finger when she went to sign the lease. “Wait a second. That was extreme cheating!”

Horrified, Anna gaped at Uzarah. “Can they really count that? It was a trick.”

“Demons are crafty beasts. It’s why they call it ‘progressive entrapment.’ They pretend to be your friends. Pretend to be helpful… then the minute you drop your guard, they bite you on your ass.”

He laughed. “As I said, she’s mine!”

Anna went cold as she saw the look of resignation on Uzarah’s face.

“You’re right, Achish. There’s nothing I can do about it. But...”

The demon tensed. “But what?”