Demons of the Rich and Famous (Demon Whisperer book 1)

Demons Chapter 26

Chapter 26

 A half hour later, our little demon hunting crew was striding down the main promenade in the district looking quite conspicuous.  Both my dad and I carried large, packed, army green duffel bags over our shoulders.  Dan, dressed all in black, flanked me on my right side, my dad, with his gnarled hands and even more gnarled face was on my left, and my black demon cat Bali padded out in front.

Thankfully it was late and there weren't too many people around.  Just a few drunks and vagrants.  One guy pointed at us and started to scream, then cowered in the shadows and sobbed uncontrollably into his hands.  I wanted to say to him, Hey we're the good guys, wait until you see the bad guys.  But I remained stoic and silent, trying to focus on the tasks at hand.

Saliesha met us at the front door to Balzacs.  Without a word, she unlocked the door and led us into the back area that led to a set of stairs.

She pointed down the dark stairwell.  "That leads to the basement."

I glanced at everyone.  "Okay, let's go down and see if we can get into the tunnels."

"Caden," Bali interrupted, "I think I should do some recon on the building. I can get up to the top windows and look in to see where everyone is being held.  Maybe see if there is an open window."

Saliesha and my dad both gaped at the little black kitty with the sultry voice.

"Okay, but don't do anything stupid.  If he sees you and recognizes you..."

"I know.  I won't let that happen.  Belial will never know I was there."  With a characteristic swish of her tail, she turned and streaked out of the shop.

"Your cat just talked." Saliesha gaped at me.

I shrugged.  "Yeah, I know. She does that now and then."

"Do I want to know?'

"No, probably not."

My dad cleared his throat.  "We're wasting time."

The four of us marched down the stairs to the basement of Balzacs.  It was like Saliesha had described.  Shelving units on every wall, stacked with supplies like napkins, and straws, and cups.

"Which wall?" I asked.

She pointed to the far right.

I went to the shelf and shoved stuff off so I could see the wall itself.  Along the aged and peeling wood, I could just make out a rectangular shape.  It was faint, but it definitely appeared to be a door of some sort.

"I think it's here."

Dan, my dad, and I all pulled the shelving unit off the wall and tossed it to the side.  My dad took out a crowbar from his bag and set it into one crease along the wall.  He cranked on it until there was an audible crack.  After another jerk on the bar the door came apart.  All three of us pulled it open with our hands.