A Demon's Duty (The Demon Guardian Trilogy Book 1)

by Katherine Kim

  May hiccuped again and tears began rolling down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her face drop into her hands as she shook with it. She felt Michael put a hand gently on her shoulder and jerked away, causing the chair to rock slightly. She sobbed, a small part of her waiting for him to try to comfort her again, but when she finally drew a shuddering breath and wiped her face on her sleeve, the room was empty.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Michael walked down the street with every appearance of a successful businessman. His dark, tailored slacks and jacket resting gracefully on his fit frame, declaring to any who cared to notice that the man wearing them had both money and the good taste to not be garish about it; his open collar telling them that he either was having a casual day at the office or that he was the one who set the tone for it. Michael had found that people were much more accommodating if they thought he was important in some sphere. There were fewer differences between humans and demons than he had been led to believe during his childhood, he reflected.

  The summer heat was still just hinted at on the spring breezes and the city was busy as usual, even so close to the scene of the ‘bomb blast.’ The people he saw had a sort of determined look about them, but otherwise it was business as usual— shops opening, cafes full of rushed worker bees grabbing a paper cup of something caffeinated on their way to the office, jogger moms pushing fancy, expensive jogger-mom strollers. Michael nodded at a few as he passed them on his way to look over the destruction. The sidewalk that had led down to the park was blocked off but he could see that most of the debris had already been cleared away. The rumble of heavy machinery rattled the air as a crew carefully took down the rest of a building that had been too severely damaged to repair. It had been in the shadow of that wall that he had paused to assess the scene, Michael remembered, where he’d sworn to watch over May and once again chose to travel an unexpected path.

  A slight crease between his eyebrows was the only outward indication of his thoughts. He had no idea what had upset May earlier. When she shied away from him he had simply left the room, assuming she wished to be left alone. He alerted Paula to May’s whereabouts and that he was leaving and had gone on his errand. What else had there been to do? Still, it annoyed him that he was on such unsure ground now, forced to live so closely with the humans that he simply didn’t understand. He had been here in the Human Realm for some time, and lived with humans before now, of course. But never with such deliberate proximity in a shared space. There had always been the option to retreat from them when the effort to pretend to be a human had gotten too exhausting, to simply leave if he needed, but leaving was no longer an option that was available to him. He knew already that he could never go too far from May, or leave her alone for very long. The Mark that was burned into his shoulder made sure he understood that.

  Michael glanced around the work area again. The lunchtime sun shone brightly on the cleanup work. Just past the River Trail that wound its way from one end of the city to the other was a narrow strip of pebbly beach and then the river itself. Parents were forever pulling children away from the water’s edge, though it was far from dangerous at this wide, calm stretch, and dogs would come bounding out of the water with sticks or tennis balls to drench anyone foolish enough to stand near them. Behind him the cafes and shops that sold arty whatnots to tourists and discerning locals alike. Michael himself had wandered occasionally through the shops, gazing at paintings and sculptures and handmade furnishings, trying to convince himself that he should accept his fate and bring some comfort into his home. He had not often managed that feat, but perhaps he should make another attempt soon.

  Following the trail in his mind, he wound past the old waterfront docks in one direction. There were plans being discussed, he knew, to turn them and their nearly abandoned warehouses and shipping office into museums and condos and trendy restaurants. It might be worth an investment or two, especially if he was to ensure the well being of anyone else. The other way wound through a park for a mile or so till it brushed through the new docks where more modern ships dropped off their goods and picked up others. The shipping traffic had dwindled significantly since Michael first took up residence in the area, trucks supplanting the slower ships, but there was still enough traffic on the river to stay busy. That way also lay the power plant and the city’s industrial side.

  The bulldozer near him rumbled to a halt and shuddered as its engine stopped. There was nothing new to be found here, he realized as he watched the construction crew break for lunch in the shade of the trees edging the open space. Even the faint trace of power that was left was more of a shred of magical fog than a clue he could actually follow. Not even his demon senses could find anything useful, so he turned away. There had to be a trail of some sort; those beasts hadn’t materialized from nowhere onto the riverbank, and they weren’t known for being especially careful of their surroundings. Even squirrels and mice left traces of their passing.

  It seemed most likely that they had followed the river from one side or the other, so he chose to start with the closer, downstream side and circled around to the River Trail where the caution tape and construction fencing stopped the curious. It was actually a lovely place, Michael thought to himself, though radically different from the nearly barren mountain landscape of his childhood. There the cold, steel-hard rock had yielded little without a struggle, but when he had sometimes won those fights against the mountain Michael had discovered wonders that filled his mind and his time, and somehow soothed his soul.

  Here, though, Michael knew the city had carefully preserved the riverbank in a soft state of managed wilderness leading up to the now destroyed open field and play areas behind him. Trees shaded the path and the water, ducks and turtles sat on a log snagged by some rocks in a patch of sunshine. A heron stood still in the shallow water by the bank, waiting for breakfast to swim past. It was not a mystery why so many came here every day. Even with the way through blocked by the cleanup, the path was busy; people just going as far as the barricade to gawk for a moment then turning around to retrace their steps.

  And the thin, wispy remnants of power dusted the whole scene, settled into protected crevices around the edges of rocks or amongst the tangles of roots. He noted freshly churned soil near a recently fallen tree reaching into the river, green leaves still doggedly clinging on to the branches he could see. The hounds had definitely come this way. Michael strolled along with the rest of the people out for the afternoon, carefully watching for more signs. The pre-workday joggers had gone, replaced by those with young children, students from the nearby community college, and those folks who no longer held to a rigid office schedule. They disturbed the trace of power he followed, interrupting it with the everyday magics of life and unknowingly purifying the demon hounds’ coldness with their living warmth and movement, but he was focused on his task and followed the physical trail fairly easily. He picked up his pace, no longer strolling now but striding. He wanted to know who was behind those hounds, and what exactly, they were planning.

  The crowds thinned out as he got further from the center of town and the nearby parking, out towards the less frequently groomed parts of the path. He followed the trail of the beasts’ careless destruction up the River Trail until the park ended, constrained by the industrial area of the city, then tracked it down several turnings and into the warren of buildings. He wasn’t concerned much with the legality of his pursuit as he easily made his way past several newly repaired and locked gates. Finally he stood in a warehouse that was clearly intended originally to be used for distribution of some sort. The pair of giant rolling doors were more than large enough to drive trucks through, and one of them stood wide open. The whole place seemed empty, but Michael could feel the heavy residue of a power he hadn’t felt in a long time but was once as familiar to him as the walls of his own chambers had been. He also knew there was at least one other living creature there.

  “Show yourself, imp.” He said quietly, letting some of his ow
n power seep into the words.

  “Yes sir, I’m here sir!” squeaked a small voice. A gangly creature scurried out from behind some overturned cardboard boxes in the dusty corner, compelled by his command. It was small, not even waist high to Michael— a distant, much weaker version of his own kind. It looked a bit like a human child, but stretched out and thinned with a sickly pink skin. It had only a few wisps of darkish hair on its head and the oversized t-shirt it had scrounged from some trash bin dragged on the floor, nearly tripping it when it hurried forward.

  “What can I do for you sir?” the creature simpered. Michael sighed mentally. This was hardly how he would have picked to begin interacting with those of the Demon Realm again. Talking to imps wasn’t entertaining at the best of times, and this one was clearly near terrified of Michael’s presence in the empty space. He had a momentary wistfulness for the imps he’d once known, since they were at least accustomed to his presence. Well, one must use what one has at hand, not what one wished for, and imps could be staggeringly useful allies if one was patient enough. Michael tried to keep his voice quiet and calm when he spoke.

  “You can tell me about the trail I just followed. Something rather exciting seems to have happened recently, what do you know about it?”

  “I just found the boxes in the corner, sir. I just wanted to stay dry!” The imp squirmed. “But then she brought the scary dogs, and I hid. I had to hide, cause the woman was annoyed at her servant and she was yelling, and they had those dogs, sir!”

  “I see. A woman was here, with a servant of some sort. A woman like me?” Michael’s face shimmered for a moment as he let his glamour fall away.

  “Yes sir!” it nodded. Lee was right. Interesting.

  “You were drawn to stay here by her power, but she frightened you with her animals? They aren’t here now.”

  “No sir! She went away for a while and the servant was living in the office up there,” the imp pointed up a bare-bones metal staircase to a small room on the catwalk, “and then he went away one night and the scary dogs chewed the cage open. I thought they would eat me!” The imp clutched a fistful of filthy t-shirt and twisted it with both hands. “They sniffed all around in here. I was under that machine thing” the imp pointed to some sort of broken down conveyer belt system at the far end of the empty space, “so they couldn’t get to me. They ate all the goats though. Then one of them rubbed on the wall there and the big door opened, and they all left.”

  “I see. Did the woman come back?” Michael could imagine why the imp was so nervous. This woman’s pack had been wiped out after escaping. She would no doubt take out her anger on any handy scapegoat, and an imp would likely be ideal to her mind.

  “She did! She did, sir! The next morning she came back and she screamed and screamed! She was so angry! She yelled for hours it seemed! Then she summoned her servant to clean up the dog things. He had come back by then. ‘Take all this to the other pack.’ she said. And she hit the servant even though he wasn’t here when it happened and humans aren’t very durable, and I thought she was going to find me! I was so scared I ran away. I thought that since the dogs were gone maybe I could stay here again.” A chill ran up Michael’s spine, a sensation that was new to him. There were more of those beasts somewhere.

  “The servant is a human?” He asked. That certainly made things interesting. And easier. “Do you happen to know where this servant took the things? Where this other pack is?”

  “No sir. I ran away. I just came back today. I thought the woman wouldn’t come back maybe and I could be dry and eat a little. There is still enough here for me to eat for a while, then maybe I’ll go somewhere near the college. They teach a little alchemy there, for the engineers.” Imps survived by consuming the traces of power that were the waste from any sort of spell casting. They weren’t unheard of in the human realm— they were in fact the basis for stories of human warlocks enslaving demons. Technically they’d been paid servants or pets, feeding off the dribbles of power that leaked from the human’s spellcasting. Every demon clan had a pack of imps scrabbling in the corners and under the floors. Most demons considered them to be mindless vermin, but Michael had discovered early how useful they could be at picking up scraps of information, and had managed to use data gleaned from them in the past. He nodded and turned to leave. He had to find this woman, somehow.

  CHAPTER TEN

  When May’s sobs finally slowed to a trickle, she sat there in the office, wondering what the hell she should do. She felt clearer than she had since Michael brought her here, and stared at his desk as she let her mind wander over what she knew of the man. She’d been surprised by the warmth of the decor in the place, which took up one whole wing of the hotel tower — she could see the other side of the L-shaped building when she looked out the dining room window. This apartment, however, was separated off from the other side for privacy and possibly security, and was only accessible through that one elevator. The great room alone was as large as one of the hotel’s expensive suites and included both the living and dining areas, and there were several bedrooms and his large office as well. She couldn’t see Michael spending much thought on decor, and guessed that he’d left most of the decisions to his employees then added a few bits of his own after. For example, where there were usually inoffensive art pieces on the shelves flanking the TV, instead there was an eclectic collection of animal skulls and broken bits of alchemical pottery, even a few postcards in frames. It felt like a traveler’s collection of mementos. Probably was, she thought to herself. He’d replaced the abstract hotel art in the hallway with Japanese woodblock prints that looked to her untrained eye like they were antiques. And the quilt she’d slept under had been patchwork and a little wild, but the rest of the bedding had been distinctly without personality while remaining tasteful. Paula and Lee each had their own guest room, though they had speculated that they’d never been used and Michael had simply left it up to the decorators to decide on most of the rooms’ uses.

  He did have a library in his office, which was a fairly large space, possibly he’d had them unite two bedrooms. May rubbed at her eyes to take the worst of the sting out of them from her crying session and took her time looking around. The whole room had that familiar and delicious smell of books, which went a long way to set her at ease. She finally wandered back into it and actually looked around her with more attention, since it seemed that he actually used this space often. Here again, she was surprised. Warm neutral paint and large windows made the room feel bright and welcoming as most hotel rooms try to be; but rather than the one or two statement prints hung on a hotel room wall over a mostly empty table or dresser, here he had an eclectic collection of mismatched paintings cheerfully clashing with each other on the walls that weren’t covered with books. It was friendly, even, which she thought was very odd considering the apparently unemotional man who owned it. The books themselves covered an eclectic range of subjects, from poetry to economic theory to science fiction, though it seemed that alchemy was one of Michaels great interests. So many of the books were alchemical texts that she was a little surprised not to find a work station as well.

  She also found several histories of the Temple stacked on his desk, one still open. Getting up from her chair she slowly stepped around the corner to look more closely. She skimmed over the page, remembering some of her classes covering the same material from her own time in school. It was basic history stuff that most high school kids remembered just long enough to pass their classes, but Michael seemed to be studying it in earnest.

  So Michael was reading up on Temple history, was he? Why would he do that? She sat down in the brown leather desk chair and looked at the computer, wondering if she dared to wake it up and poke around in there. She wanted to know as much about what Michael was planning as she could, but found that she didn’t want to violate his trust, if that’s what it was. He had left the three of them alone in his home, without even a word of warning. Presumably he felt he could trust them to respect
his privacy. But… He was a High Demon! Was trust even really a thing for them? She knew a great deal about the beasts from the Demon Realm and how to fight them— the recent battle being a brutal exception— and she had read some on the fighting habits of High Demons, but Michael was the only one she had ever actually met. And none of the texts she’d skimmed though to pass her own classes had discussed the social habits of High Demons.

  May sighed and rubbed her eyes again. A headache was starting to worm it’s way through her sinuses. Dehydration was probably going to be a factor there, she figured, but she just sat back into the padding of the desk chair. Michael did trust them, she decided. No one would leave their home unprotected with people they didn’t trust roaming freely inside. The question then became did they— did May herself— trust Michael? Oddly enough the answer seemed to be yes. At least in the short term. She felt safe around him. She knew somehow that he wouldn’t actually harm her himself, and that he would actually do his best to keep her safe. She had, in fact, in a strange way trusted him the whole time she’d known him. Which only made the situation even stranger since at the first chance he had, he had taken James’ soul, and that act hurt her deeply.

  Her vision greyed at the edges as rage and grief hit her like a fist. She waited for the tears to come again but instead felt almost dizzy with rage. Why should James and Pike have paid for her weakness? She should have been able to do something to stop those things- it was her job to destroy the demonic forces that threatened this city! What she’d trained her whole life for! She gripped the edge of the desk, her fingers turning white from the pressure and dragged breaths deep into her lungs. What the hell good was all her training, all her power and the spells that she knew if they didn’t even work against the very creatures she was supposed to destroy? And then Michael. How dare he do such a thing to James? After they had known him for years? Trusted him? She waited a few minutes for the wave of anger to pass over her, knowing that it wouldn’t help, and might make her miss something if there was anything to find. To hell with his privacy.