Secrets of the Demon

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Secrets of the Demon Page 9

by Diana Rowland


  “Oh, no,” I breathed in horror. “Don’t tell me you’re a nerd too!”

  “Well, I can’t hold a candle to Ryan and Zack, but yeah, I liked X-Files when it was on. Anyway, there was one episode about golems that was fairly true to legend.”

  I groaned. “Please don’t make me go watch it. Can you sum up the legend stuff for me?”

  “You are so damn pathetic,” she said, eyes flashing with humor. “Well, all I really remember is that they’re animated creatures made from inanimate matter. And there’s usually something written on the forehead, or a piece of paper in the mouth. Erase the letters or remove the paper and the golem stops or falls apart.”

  “I don’t remember seeing any letters on the thing’s head,” I said with a shrug. “Heck, I’m not even sure it was that sort of golem, but I know that a lot of legends have a seed of fact at their core.” Inanimate creature animated by magic, or in this case some sort of arcane power I wasn’t familiar with.

  “So you think that’s what grabbed Lida Moran off the stage?” Jill asked.

  “It’s a theory.” I gave her the summarized version of what happened.

  “Too weird,” she said with a shake of her head after I finished. “And you’ve stalled long enough.” She bent over in a stretch, placing her palms on the floor with her legs together and knees straight.

  I winced. “Show-off. I can barely touch my toes.”

  She straightened with a grin. “I used to be a gymnast. Had a gymnastics scholarship and everything.”

  “I can’t even do a cartwheel!”

  “Yeah,” she said as she headed to the door with me. “Not sure why I hang out with you.”

  “Because you can’t have Pellini, so you settled for me.”

  Jill pulled the door shut behind us, then made a sound in her throat as if she was about to barf up a hairball. Pellini was one of the other Violent Crimes detectives at the PD, and Jill and I shared a dislike of the man—one that was fully reciprocated. “Oh, yes, I pine for that big, disgusting, misogynistic, lazy idiot.” She locked the door and stuck the key in the pocket of her running shorts. “Okay, usual route, or bump it up?” She eyed me expectantly.

  I sighed. “Bump it up.”

  “Ooo, studly!” she grinned as we walked to the road and then started a easy jog, heading toward the lakefront area. “You’ll be running ten-Ks before you know it.”

  I scowled. “Y’know, you could at least pretend to have a hard time running.” I could believe she’d been a gymnast. Her uniform hid it, but she wasn’t just slender—she was lean muscle. She ran like a graceful deer, barely breathing hard, while I was already panting by the quarter-mile mark.

  “Nah, this is far more fun,” she replied, tone annoyingly chipper. “Hey, you could always go running with Ryan.”

  “And have him see my pale flabby legs and my red sweaty face? I think not.”

  Her grin turned wicked. “I think he’d love to see you all sweaty.”

  “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know? Besides, we’re friends. That’s it.”

  “Uh-huh,” she replied, voice thick with disbelief. “You’re telling me that you don’t want to snuggle up with Fed Boy?”

  I grimaced. “Things are too messed up right now for that.”

  She flicked a glance at me. “Because of Rhyzkahl.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted. “I mean, what the hell is wrong with me? Every time I summon him, we end up fucking like rabbits in heat. And, then I get all confused because I . . . well, I’m starting to really like being around him. I mean, some of the time. Other times he’s totally the powerful arcane dude and I wonder what the hell I’m doing even thinking about getting emotionally involved with a demonic lord. And I like Ryan, but there’s no way that he’s going to make any sort of move on me, or accept any move from me, as long as I’m sworn to the demonic lord.” I had to pant for breath after that long speech.

  “Does Ryan know that you’re still sleeping with demon dude?”

  I gave a breathless laugh. “Ain’t no sleeping involved, darlin’. But, to answer your question, Ryan knows that I slept with him that first time.” I grimaced, remembering Ryan’s reaction to that revelation. It had been ugly and unpleasant, to put it mildly. Ryan had demanded to know how I could have “fucked that thing.” I’d retorted with something equally heated and nasty. We’d managed to get past the incident for the most part, but it wasn’t an issue I cared to revisit with him. “I figure Ryan assumes that I’m still sleeping with Rhyzkahl, now that I’m sworn to him as his summoner.” I abruptly realized that this was the first time I’d spoken about all of this openly to anyone.

  “Seems to me that he’d probably assume you were sleeping with Rhyzkahl even if you weren’t,” Jill pointed out. “So, if you’re gonna be suspected of something, might as well do it!”

  “You’re not helping,” I groaned.

  She laughed. “I know, but I saw that drawing of Rhyzkahl in that comic. Holy shit, woman. I’d be on him like white on rice!”

  I sighed. “Even if I stop screwing Rhyzkahl, it won’t do any good. I think Ryan sees me as tainted goods anyway.” He definitely seemed determined to keep me firmly in the “just friends” category.

  Jill grabbed my arm and stopped dead, causing me to flail for balance as she spun me to face her. “Now you listen to me, you stubborn hardheaded bitch,” she snarled. “I don’t know if Ryan sees you that way or not—but if he does then he’s a fucking moron who doesn’t deserve you. And you’d better not see yourself that way, because the only thing you’re tainted with is being a damn human who wants some good fucking every now and then.”

  I stared at her for several seconds before I finally recovered enough to give her a weak smile. “Okay.”

  She bared her teeth at me in a fierce smile. “I mean, seriously! Why is it that women get so damn angsty about having enjoyable sex?”

  “I don’t dislike enjoyable sex!” I protested.

  “No? But you’re sure determined to feel guilty about it. So, do you enjoy it?”

  I actually blushed. “Well . . . yeah.”

  “Does Rhyzkahl make you feel good and sexy and special?”

  I tried not to fidget. “Um. Yeah, but it’s not that simple.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Does he ever force you or coerce you into doing things you don’t want to do?”

  I shook my head. In fact I realized that I had absolutely zero fear that he would ever fail to back off if I ever wanted him to.

  Jill shrugged. “Okay, so maybe you can’t see yourself settling down with him as Mrs. Demonic Lord, but the way I see it, what you have with Rhyzkahl is the ultimate fuckbuddy. Hot, gorgeous, respects your limits, and makes you feel good. Am I missing anything?”

  I stared at her, then began to giggle. “Fuckbuddy. Holy shit.” I tried to picture myself explaining the concept to Rhyzkahl, which only made me laugh harder.

  Jill grinned. “Exactly. So stop flailing around in puritanized guilt. If Ryan wants to be with you, then he needs to nut up and make a fucking move on you and fight for you.”

  I managed to get my laughter under control. “But he hasn’t made a move, Jill,” I said. “Which means that he’s not interested.”

  “Or he’s completely thickheaded.”

  I snickered. “That’s always possible.”

  “And what about you?” Jill said, fixing me with a piercing look.

  “Um, what about me?”

  “Have you made any sort of move on him?” she asked. “Have you made it clear to him that you’d like to try being more than BFFs?” The look on her face told me that she already knew my answer.

  I grimaced and twisted the toe of my shoe onto the sidewalk. “Not exactly.”

  She cleared her throat.

  I sighed. “Okay, no. I haven’t.”

  “Why not?”

  I scowled. “Shit, Jill, because I’m scared to death that he’ll say he doesn’t want to be anything more tha
n friends, and then things would be awkward and we wouldn’t even have that.”

  She took me by the shoulders. “Yo, woman. It’s not the nineteenth century anymore. You can’t leave it all up to him.” She gave me a shake. “Besides, how do you know he’s not scared about the same thing?”

  I regarded her sourly for several seconds. “I hate it when you make sense,” I finally grumbled. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I’m being stupid.” I groaned. “When did I turn into a needy whiny angsty idiot who needed to be swept off her feet?”

  She snorted then started running again, forcing me into a brief sprint to catch up. “We’re conditioned from birth,” she said. “I swear to god, if I ever have a daughter I’ll ban all of the Disney princesses from the house. Except Mulan. She kicks ass.”

  I laughed, then had to save my breath for running.

  I hated to admit it, but the jogging did seem to clear my head a bit. Or maybe it was oxygen deprivation making it difficult for my brain to concentrate on the various things that were stressing me out. Like what I would do if Ryan ever did make some sort of move. Would I have the strength to keep Rhyzkahl at arm’s length if that ever happened? It wasn’t as if I could simply stop seeing him, not as long as I was oathbound to him. And even if I did shift my relationship with Rhyzkahl to a platonic one, I couldn’t see Ryan being willing to endure the fact that I had any contact with the demonic lord.

  “I think you know way too much about me,” I complained after we made the turn to head back to the house. “Obviously, I whine about my life too much.”

  She chuckled. “Or I’m simply a nosy bitch.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m going to start doing the nosy bitch routine with you,” I gave her a mock glare. “You keep dropping these little snippets of enticing info.”

  “I’m boring,” she insisted.

  I rolled my eyes, and tried to resist the urge to actually be a nosy bitch. Jill had once revealed to me that she was a widow, but hadn’t said anything more other than that it had been a short marriage and a long story. I could respect that some memories could be painful, but it shamed me that I knew very little about her in general. What kind of friend was I? Did I spend too much time whining about my own issues?

  Yes, I decided glumly. I was overly preoccupied with myself and my own problems.

  “Well, are you seeing anyone?” I asked. “Hot dates? Cold dates?”

  She shrugged, but there was a small smile on her face. “A date here and there. Nothing much.”

  I’d been a detective long enough to know that she was hiding something from me. “Anyone I know?” I pressed.

  She kept her eyes on the road and shrugged again. “Um, well it’s a small town, so anything’s possible.” She abruptly veered to the right to take a side street, forcing me to quicken my pace to catch up with her. “Let’s cut through here and run along the lakefront, okay?”

  “Sure,” I muttered, fairly sure that the change in direction was an excuse to change the subject as well.

  “There’s a five-K race next month,” she said next, confirming my suspicion that she wanted to talk about something else.

  Okay, so maybe she’s simply a really private person. Or maybe she thinks I’d be upset if I knew who she’d been dating? The only possible way I’d be upset was if she was dating Ryan, but even though the jealous third grader in me wanted to rear its pigtailed head, I simply couldn’t see the two of them dating. And why would she be encouraging me to make a move on him if that were the case?

  Right?

  I scowled and slapped my inner third grader down as we finally made the turn to head back to her house. I had enough drama in my life. I didn’t need to fabricate any more.

  Chapter 10

  I showered and changed into my work clothes at Jill’s house—a far more convenient option than making the thirty-minute drive back to my house to do so, where I would then have to make another thirty-minute drive to get to the station. My cell phone rang as I was toweling off after my shower, but since I recognized Ryan’s ringtone, I finished drying off and getting dressed first. It felt a bit weird to think about talking to him on the phone when I was naked. Yes, I was that stupid.

  “I figured you’d have called earlier,” I said after I called him back.

  “Don’t you go running in the mornings with Jill now?”

  I frowned. Had I told him about that? I couldn’t remember. Not that it was a big secret or anything. “Yeah, my twice weekly dose of ‘let’s hang out with someone who makes me feel like an out-of-shape slob.’”

  He laughed. “You’re far from a slob.”

  “I notice you didn’t say that I’m far from out of shape,” I pointed out.

  “You’re far from a slob,” he repeated.

  “Asshole,” I grumbled, but I was smiling.

  “Don’t compare yourself to Jill, fer crissakes. She was nearly an Olympian.”

  “Huh?”

  “Didn’t you know? She was a hotshot gymnast—expected to nail the trials and go to the Olympics ... um, ten years ago or so. Then she had a bad fall, hit her head, and dropped out of competition.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling oddly hot and cold at the same time. “No, I didn’t know that.” And how do you? I’m supposed to be her best friend, and yet you know these things?

  “Find anything in your research?” he asked, pulling me out of my stupid little pity spiral.

  My lips twitched. This was his way of asking if I’d found out anything from Rhyzkahl, but I knew he had no intention of mentioning the demonic lord. “Nope. Yesterday was pretty much a bust for getting any sort of useful info.” There. That covered the summoning, without saying it outright.

  He muttered a curse. “Which means we’re pretty much at a standstill with this now. Any other cases at work that you can sink your teeth into?”

  “Not really. Things are pretty slow right now.” Then I cringed.

  There was a pause. “I can’t believe you said that,” Ryan said, voice low and ominous.

  I laughed. “Me neither. Holy shit, I just totally jinxed myself.”

  “Dork,” he said with a chuckle. “Okay, give me a call later on.”

  “I’ll try to squeeze you into my busy schedule,” I promised.

  The biggest drawback to starting my shift at ten was a distinct lack of parking places in the detectives’ parking lot. I scowled and circled the small lot twice in the misguided hope that a free space would magically appear, but my arcane powers failed me in spectacular fashion by refusing to vaporize any of the other vehicles in the lot and thus saving me the walk from the side parking lot.

  Oh, whoopee. I could summon demons, but I couldn’t get a parking space.

  I grudgingly drove around to the side parking lot and walked the extra hundred feet, refusing to feel any sort of shame for being all grudgingly about the walk. I’d gone running that morning. I should be exempt from any sort of additional exertion. Right?

  I paused before entering the bureau, my eyes drawn to a blackened patch about fifty feet away, in the detective’s parking lot. That’s where the lightning struck the other day. My fingers prickled, an odd sense of familiarity tugging at me unpleasantly as I started slowly toward the spot. It wasn’t just a storm, the thought whispered through my head. I shifted into othersight as I reached it, even though I had a feeling I already knew what I would see.

  I crouched, mouth dry as I looked at the star-shaped scar in the concrete and struggled to understand how my othersight could be showing me what were unmistakably arcane wards.

  The lightning wasn’t random. But, why on earth was part of the parking lot warded? That didn’t make any sense. I wiped my sweating palms on the front of my pants as I deepened my sensing as far as I was able. A faint twinge of relief stole through me as I studied the wards. They were old and nothing I’d ever seen before, but the fact that they weren’t recently placed made it slightly less ominous. There was no way I was going to start poking at them, but my assessment revealed
something important. The parking lot wasn’t warded. The lightning had broken through to the ground below the parking lot. That’s what was warded.

  Confusion and unease tightened my gut. Why would the ground there have wards? And how long ago had they been placed? And had that lightning strike been directed, or had these wards somehow drawn it, like a lightning rod? And what did—

  “Hey, Gillian, you lookin’ for your lost virginity?” An unpleasant nasal voice jerked me out of my careening thoughts. I gritted my teeth and stood, then plastered a pleasant smile onto my face as I pivoted to see Boudreaux regarding me with a snide smirk, Pellini standing beside him with his thumbs tucked into his belt. Not that I could see his belt since his belly extended well over it, but that’s where I assumed his thumbs were tucked. I didn’t want to consider any other possibilities. Boudreaux didn’t have to worry about large guts—he was about my height and so scrawny I had a suspicion I outweighed him. He looked like a meth-head to me, and I had a feeling that the only reason the Narcs didn’t use him for undercover work was because they didn’t trust him to not screw up.

  “Hi, Boudreaux,” I replied in an overly sweet tone. “Were you offering to help me look? Or were you going to loan me yours, since you still have it?” I grinned, then turned to walk inside, more than a little surprised to hear a guffaw of laughter from Pellini. The two detectives had always been somewhat annoying, though there’d been a time not too long ago that annoying had been more along the lines of obnoxious, unpleasant, and insulting. Until Ryan had done ... something. I still wasn’t quite sure what, and I had zero proof that he had, but the two detectives had undergone an unbelievable change of attitude toward me in the span of a few minutes, going from openly hostile to warm and welcoming.

  Seriously freaky.

  The two hadn’t remained full of warm fuzzies, to my strange relief. I wasn’t sure I could handle the bizarro “nice” versions of Boudreaux and Pellini. However, they’d so far failed to completely revert back to the blistering assholes they’d once been, and had apparently settled into “annoying but not outright mean.” I could handle that.

 

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