Well, the time has come: I've finally written something. You may now commence rejoicing. Okay, that's enough rejoicing. No, seriously, calm down or you won't be able to see straight. I don't want to be responsible for eye strain and headaches, you know. Here's the deal: This story takes place about a year and a half before the actual DC storyline begins. Nina Bennett is 15, a sophmore in high school, and has just become the youngest licensed demon hunter in the US. This story has very little to do with the actual DC story--in fact, I doubt any of these events will even be mentioned again, except maybe in passing. For instance, maybe Nina will be walking around in a tanktop and Jamie will comment on the scar on her back. Nothing major. Nothing important happens here, although it might give you some idea of what DC will be like. Be warned: This is a revision of a disgustingly messy first draft, so don't expect too much on the technique front. Enjoy. But not too much. Because that would be wrong. ^_- *** Devil's Claws: Side Story "You Thought I Was A Little Girl" *** "It's a Friday night," I growled into the phone, "and I'm buried under eleventeen different homework assignments. My teachers are sadistic bastards..." "It could be worse," Jaime said hopefully. "Really? How?" "Um, give me a moment. I'm sure I can come up with something..." "You're no help," I said as the call waiting beeped in my ear. "Hold up, I've got another call." Click. "H'llo?" "Nina? Hey, it's Mac. Listen, we've got a bit of a problem--" "What?" My heart ground to a halt as fifteen million possible scenarios, all involving Dad either dead or dying, scampered through my brain at the speed of light. "What's wrong? Is it Dad? He's not--" "Woah, calm down, kiddo. It's not that," Mac said reassuringly. "Last we heard, everything was fine in Washington. This problem's a bit closer to home. Seems there's a bunch of demons who took over the courthouse down in Billings. They're sending a SWAT team in, but they need a demon expert to come along and make sure everything goes according to state regs." "Oh. And they want me?" "You're the only licensed demon hunter in the Pacific Northwest who's not involved in something right now." Homework notwithstanding, I suppose. "Okay. They do realize that I have next to no experience, don't they?" "You're licensed. That's all they care about." "Oh. Okay. So when do we leave?" Mac shuffled something around on his end and said, "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes. Be sure you pack enough for a few days." "Sure," I replied. "Later, Mac." Then I switched back over to Jamie, who was none to happy to have waited so long. "Dude, that had better've been an important call." "It was. I'm off to Billings for a couple of days." "What for?" "Demon situation," I explained. "Apparently I'm all they've got in the expert department." "Don't take this wrong, but that's really sad." "Yeah, I know." "Well, I'd better let you go then. Good luck. And don't get killed. It'd really suck to get killed on your first demon hunt." "I'll try," I said jokingly. "Do more than try. Come back in one piece, okay?" "Sure man. Bye." "See ya." We hung up, and I got to packing. I wasn't sure quite how long we'd be gone, so I packed enough for three days. If we were there any longer, well, they'd just have to put up with me in dirty clothes. I tossed in an extra pair of shoes, a pair of heavy gloves, and my CD player. Just the essentials. Oh, and my personal arsenal, of course. It's a typical demon hunting kit--an S&W 9mm pistol with gold-tipped rounds and a blessed knife with a gold electroplated cutting edge. I also tossed in a pair of extra clips for the gun. A girl can't be too careful nowadays. Mac picked me up promptly and we went to the airport. The flight on the 40 seater puddle jumper singularly uneventful, even with the severe winter storm warnings we'd been having. Within an hour we were on the scene in Billings, standing outside the courthouse with the local police and the state SWAT team. The police cheif seemed pretty unhappy with my arrival. "I asked you for a demon hunter and you brought me a kid?" Mac shrugged. "She's been licensed by the national demon hunting council." "I don't care if the president of the You-nited states gave her a badge, she's still a kid." I'd heard this argument before, more times than I could count. Sometimes it changed a bit--she's too young to carry a gun, she's too young to be involved with demon hunting, she's too young for blah blah blah. After the first twelve dozen times I'd learned to tune it out. Mac continued to push for me, though. "She's also a nationally recognized sharp shooter--" "That fancy-ass target shooting don't amount to much in real-life situations." "Did I mention that her name is Nina Bennett?" The chief opened his mouth to retort but thought for a moment instead. "You mean she's related to Jonathan Bennett?" "He's my dad," I interjected. The chief looked mildly suprised, but managed to hide it when he saw that I had noticed. "Alright, you've made your point. We'll let her in. Hell, she's all we got." I didn't know whether to thank him or flip him off. "Hey, guys," he yelled across the parking lot. "Get over here and meet our 'expert!'" Two heavily armed and armored SWAT team members walked over. Neither one looked particularly impressed. "She's our expert?" "Kriezman, Shanks, meet Nina Bennett." Shanks raised an eyebrow. "*You're* Nina Bennett?" It's so nice to be recognized. "Yeah. Why?" "I dunno. I was just expecting someone..." "Taller?" "Older." "Oh." Well then. Mac cut in. "Look, I know it's fun kibitzing and all, but we really should get things off the ground before dark." Considering that it was already dusk, that meant we had to hurry. "Get the kid a flak jacket," the chief ordered. He turned to me. "You armed?" I pulled my gun out of its behind-the-back holster. "This answer your question?" He whistled appreciatively. "Big gun for a little lady like you." "The bigger the better," I said with a sacchrine smile. "You'd better put that up," growled Kriezman. I blinked at him. "Wha' for?" "I don't want some rookie kid shooting herself in the foot 'cause she's not paying attention to where her gun's pointed." "Man, do you know who she is?" Shanks said. "I don't give a rat's ass who her daddy is," Kriezman replied. "She puts the gun up or she stays here." "Fine," I said, attempting to diffuse the situation before it got any worse. "Can't put the jacket on with a gun in my hand anyway." The chief briefed me while I got outfitted. "As far as we can tell, the demons are camped out on the second foor. We think there are about a half dozen civilains still up there. Whether or not they're being held hostage, we don't know, but either way we have to get them the hell out of there." "So you want me to roust out the demons?" "Look, you find 'em, Kriezman and Shanks kill 'em. You only pull your gun as a last resort. Got it?" "Sure." I looked over at the two heavily armed warriors. "Have they ever been in on a demon situation before?" "They've been on the Montana SWAT team for--" "That doesn't answer my question." "This is their first run. They're as green as you are." He shook his head. "God help us all." Well, nothing like a resounding vote of confidence to make one feel better. Then again, it wasn't anything I hadn't heard before. "You ready?" Mac asked. "As ready as I'm ever gonna be," I said sullenly. "Let's get a move on!" Kreizman shouted, heading for the building. I followed a half pace behind him and Shanks, gun holsterd, my hands jammed into my pockets for lack of something better to do. I felt underprotected and underappreciated, but there wasn't a whole lot I could do about it. The inside of the courthouse was dim and dingy. I had no trouble seeing, of course, but Shanks immediately flipped on his nightstick sized flashlight in an attempt to chase away the deepening shadows. In truth, the shadows were the probably least threatening thing there. Above us I could sense the pressing weight of enough demonic energy to tear the whole building down around us. I found myself wondering just what the hell we were walking into. Kriezman halted us at the bottom of the main staircase. "So, where to now, kid?" "Up," I said without hesitation. "You sound pretty sure of yourself," he said. "That's because I am." "You'd better be right." "Don't worry," I said. "As far as demons are concerned, I've never been wrong." Kriezman snorted, but it was the truth. When it came to demons, my senses had always been downright uncanny. Kriezman took the lead, closely followed by Shanks, while I lagged behind a bit. I wasn't necessisarily afraid, it's just that wasn't sure I wanted to be up front if something bad happened. Something bad did happen, all right. As Kriezman turned the corner to start up the second flight of stairs, a darkish blur shot around the wall, slashed outward with some barely visible weapon and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Kriezman, by contrast, seemed to fall in slow motion, first to his knees, then to the ground to lie still, mostly prone, in a growing pool of his own blood. Shanks just stood there, rooted to the ground by shock. That was what killed him. The blur flashed past again, like a thicker shadow, and before I could cry out, Shanks was down just like his partner. The speeding thing stopped to survey the damage. It was about five feet tall, bipedal, with a thin, drawn body and immense clawed hands. It must have caught sight of me because I saw it shift out of solidarity and shoot towards me. I threw myself quickly to one side, but something caught me across the face and I went down with a crash on the stairs. The demon's inertia caused it to skate across the freshly waxed floor, which gave me just enough time to draw my gun and flick the safety off. The demon got its bearings, sighted on me, and flew again. I fired. The thing slammed into me, pinning me against the hard stone steps. It knocked the wind out of me, but thankfully that was all it managed to do, because it was well and truly dead by the time we contacted the ground.