Mammon by J. B. Thomas Page A

DROPPED HER book onto her bedside table and sat up, letting her legs swing over the edge of her bed. She stretched. Pale afternoon light streamed in through the gap in her curtains; new rain pattered on her window. Yawning, she slid on her slippers and shuffled towards the window to pick up her watch. Three-thirty.
    A rumbling shook the walls. She peered down. There was Joe, leaning over the bike, revving the engine in sustained bursts. Grace glanced at the sky: surely he wasn’t thinking of riding in this? Even as plump raindrops splashed on to his hair, he seemed oblivious, tuned in to the bike’s steady vibrations.
    * * *
    Across the road, behind the safety of a tinted bedroom window, Halphas shifted in his chair, his fingers clenched. Even at this distance, the Line of Protection around the boy’s home set off a painful stinging in his skin.
    Andromalius watched the upper window where a woman had stood, minutes earlier. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the minds inside the house.
    Halphas watched the young girl appear in another window. He wondered how her tender skin would react to the attentions of a sharp blade.
    Mammon’s gaze never left Joe.
    Andromalius opened his eyes. ‘The father’s trying to reach someone on the phone.’ He threw a concerned glance at Mammon. ‘I can’t tell who. Could be trouble. We might get some unwanted company.’ He paused slightly. ‘Shouldn’t we get moving?’ He threw a careless glance towards the homeowner, sprawled in the hallway. ‘This one might wake up and become a nuisance.’
    Mammon shook his head. ‘Then we put him to sleep again. And we don’t need to worry about whoever the father is calling.’ He gave Halphas a hard look. ‘Do we?’
    The old servant shook his head. ‘No, Master. They’re just an ordinary family.’
    Zagan folded his arms and leaned against the wall. ‘Why don’t we just kill the family and force Joe to come with us?’
    Mammon gave him a scathing stare. ‘A Ferryman won’t be taken like that, you fool. I didn’t get this far in life by being rash and impulsive. We’re going to lure Joe in, carefully.’ He pinched his thumb and forefinger together. ‘Today, we plant a seed of desire in him.’ He nodded with a confident smile. ‘He’ll come to us – sooner, rather than later.’
    Footsteps pounded up the stairs. A tall, very thin man with a dark beard entered the room. He wore a red-checkered shirt and black leather jacket, emblazoned with a logo for the Northern Raiders motorcycle club.
    Haures screwed up her nose at the man’s tangy scent.
    â€˜You’re late,’ said Andras, without looking at the newcomer.
    The biker shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Andras a shrug. ‘I had to head into the City first. Mike needed me to do a job there.’
    Slowly, Andras turned and gave the man a dark stare. ‘From now on, you follow our orders first.’
    â€˜Keys, please.’ Haures thrust out her palm.
    The biker stared, jaw open. Such hair . . . it floated around her face like waves of fire. And those lips . . . fighting against the temptation to lean over and kiss her, he handed Haures a set of keys. ‘All yours, pretty lady.’
    She threw Andromalius a smile before disappearing out the door.
    The biker turned back to Andras. ‘Shouldn’t she be wearing leathers?’
    The young demon stared out into the street. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
    * * *
    GRACE SIGHED AND made for her bedroom door. Moving into the hallway, she glimpsed her father sitting on his bed, phone in hand.
    â€˜Are you okay, Dad?’
    He smiled. ‘Yes, honey.’
    â€˜Where’s Mum?’
    â€˜Taking a shower. She’s made you a cup of tea.’
    â€˜Okay.’ She jumped in fright as a clap of thunder shook the walls. A heavy lashing of sound above told her the rain