Demon Song

by Cat Adams

  Dawna let out a delighted guffaw and held up her hand—to slap cold air. “Girl, you know that’s got to be right. Who else? Kevin was there all the time.” The best part was that if Jones was somehow still listening in, he had nothing, and I’ll bet he was seething.

  So now I had to convince Anna to do whatever it was she needed to do. I just hoped she knew she was Kevin’s Vaso. I’d hate to think he would do something like that without her permission, but then again, he’d done stupid stuff like that to me, so what did I know?

  My cell phone rang. The screen didn’t recognize the number, but it was an international call judging from the long string of digits. I pressed the receive button. “Celia Graves.”

  “My mother would speak with you.” I recognized the voice. Princess Adriana was Queen Lopaka’s daughter but was not her heir. Our relationship hadn’t begun well—actually, Adriana had challenged me to a duel. I’d won and she had taken it pretty well. I wouldn’t call us friends, but I didn’t think she’d try to kill me again.

  “Good evening, Adriana. How’ve you been? What’s new?”

  There was a pause, as though she’d never actually been asked that. “I’m engaged to be married. I suppose that’s new.”

  Engaged? Wow! That was news. “Omagawd. That’s fabulous! Where’d you meet him? Is he another siren or human or what? Are you ecstatic?”

  There was another pause and her voice sounded confused by the question. “It’s … um, complex. I believe I’ll be happy. We have much in common. I will finally be a queen, even if it’s not of my own people.”

  A queen? That would mean she’s marrying a king. There weren’t very many eligible world monarchs. Of course, there are a bunch of princes who might someday get the throne. “What country? Have I ever heard of it?”

  Now she sounded amused: “I believe you have. It’s Rusland.”

  She was marrying King Dahlmar? I felt my jaw drop. “But he’s … well, he’s old !” He was handsome, to be sure, but he was silver haired, elegant. A grandfather, not a husband.

  Her laugh was the gentle tinkle of water over chimes. “He’s younger than me, Celia. By a number of years. You forget how old I am. He’s lost two sons and has no heirs. I have no hope to rule here but could be a queen there and gain an important ally for my mother. And he is quite attractive. We’re both lonely and I’ve always … dreamed of having children.” The admission seemed to startle her, and the tone of her voice changed from amazed wonder and joy to a more businesslike one. “Of course you will be invited to the wedding. But now my mother would speak with you. Thank you for asking after my … well, just thank you.”

  Wow. I’d never really thought about the realities of such a long life or the duties of a royal. To have to worry about strong allies and heirs just to find a mate. I hadn’t heard the word “love” in her rambling, though her happiness was evident. But Dahlmar was a good man—strong, smart, and devoted to his people. He actually was quite a bit like Adriana. They’d make a good match … and maybe they’d wind up really falling for each other. It had happened before.

  “Celia?” The queen’s voice came over the wire. “You seem to have befuddled my daughter. She scurried out of my office with a red face and odd smile.”

  A small laugh escaped me. “I have that effect on people. I hope you have good news for me. Did your people talk with the judge?”

  “I spoke with the judge personally.” That made me wince a little and she must have realized it, because she hurried to add, “I swear there was no improper manipulation. I made certain he was protected from my psychic abilities before I walked into the room.”

  Oh! That reminded me of my talk with Alex. Lord, was it only yesterday? “By the way, before I forget, the police here have asked me to provide DNA to make charms for their officers. Would hair from me protect against any sirens, or just me?”

  “Hmm. Well, likely with your weak bloodline, it would just be you. I understand why the authorities there would have reason to want protection. It’s likely you’ll be visited by other royals from time to time.” Crap. That wasn’t good news, because the other queens hated me. “I will have my security office coordinate with the police there to create suitable charms. After that fiasco of a court case you were forced to endure, I will be certain the police do not treat you harshly because they fear you.

  “As for your mother, she is on her way now to the Isle of Serenity to complete her sentence. While here, she will undergo treatment to heal her body and her spirit. Of course, to fully accomplish that there can be no early parole and she might even have to stay beyond that. Still, I hope she will return to the mainland as a whole person. I must tell you, Celia, it nearly made me cry to see what she’d been reduced to behind those dry stone walls. Just getting her on the boat did a great deal to bring her back to herself.”

  It was a day for sighs of relief. “My gran will be so pleased. I’m so pleased. And grateful. You can’t even imagine. Thank you more than I can express, Your Highness.”

  “You are quite welcome, Celia. And you are welcome to call me Aunt Lopaka, if you prefer. It is fact and would go far to establish your credentials in the eyes of the others.”

  Wow. That was a big thing. Lineage is everything to the sirens. I’d had to defend my right to even exist, and when the queen had acknowledged me as a family member it had caused a lot of discontent with the other rulers.

  But it might be too much too soon. “For the moment, Highness, I’ll decline. I thank you, but there are already enough people who want to take off my head for overstepping myself.”

  She didn’t offer a second time or insist or even try to convince me I was wrong. I liked that she respected my opinions even on our short acquaintance. “As you wish.”

  There were still a few items on my list of big issues and I wondered if I might be able to scratch one more off tonight. “However, there is a history question you might be able to answer for me, if you will.”

  “The history of our people? Of course. If I can.”

  “What can you tell me about the Millennium Horns? Do they still exist?”

  The pause on the other end of the phone was long enough that I thought about speaking. When Lopaka finally spoke, there was unexpected fury in her voice: “How dare you ask that! Family or no, this call is at an end.”

  There was a click without even a good-bye. My face must have shown my sudden shock and embarrassment, because Dawna reared back like I’d grown a second head. Crap. All that goodwill I’d built up with sweat and blood … gone because of asking one question? Shit, shit, shit ! I felt sick to my stomach. “Oh, man. I think I just really messed up. And I don’t even know what I said wrong.”

  “Why was that a bad question?” Dawna sounded honestly confused. “Even I’ve heard of those. The story’s in the history books in school.”

  A sudden blast of cold air made me look toward the window. Right story?

  My stomach squirmed even more. “Oh, I didn’t think of that. What if the history books got it wrong? What if the real story is a huge scandal or something?” Well, there was nothing I could do about it now. I’d have to figure out some way to apologize for my faux pas.

  “Well, I guess the best thing I can do now is find out everything I can about the horns.”

  Dawna smiled slyly. “I bet I know where you’re going to go look.”

  I returned her smile. Kill two birds with one stone. “Want to come along?”

  She shrugged and laid her hand on the mouse. “Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do and I have some stuff I want to tell you. Just let me shut down.”

  Yeah, I had stuff to tell her, too. I didn’t know whether to bring up the idea of living together yet. So far she’d been a trooper with the vampire thing, but she was always careful to stay behind glass or concrete or such. The last thing I wanted was to be a source of trauma to her.

  Actually, that wasn’t true. The last thing I wanted was to be the source of her death.

  12


  I was a little worried about getting into the campus library. Though I’d graduated, I was still officially a student—I took a class or two every semester to maintain my health insurance. Right now I was getting a D in ornamental gardening because I hadn’t been showing up for class and I’d missed the midterm exam. Well, my life had gotten just a little complicated. I think the only reason the instructor hadn’t failed me outright was because he was giving the class for the same reason I was taking it, so he was somewhat loathe to make me lose my benefits. But he did warn that I was going to have to spend some time with the design books and a hedge clipper after the winter break or he wasn’t going to be able to let me skate by anymore.

  And while the vampire healing was holding up so far, I’d hate for something else to change in my life and leave me with no healing and no insurance.

  But despite my status as a student, I might be kicked out of the library. I’d been eighty-sixed by Anna herself not long ago. She considered me a risk to the patrons. A normal vampire certainly would be, and she’d outed me as a bat the minute I was turned. That was one reason I’d brought Dawna along. She could get through the magical barriers to the basement level even if I couldn’t and could give Anna the address where she could find Kevin. But I was hoping Anna hadn’t increased the shielding.

  Dawna obviously had had similar thoughts. As we drove toward the library she said, “Why don’t I go in first? I can take her the note and see if you can come in. Just drop me off and drive around in case we’re being followed. I’ll call you in a couple of minutes.”

  While I didn’t like the thought I could never go back to the library—because it was one of my all-time favorite places—the discretion made sense. Maybe hooking Anna back up with Kevin and making sure he was safe would get me back on her good side.

  “Sounds good. And hey, if you manage it, I’ll give you your Christmas present early. It’s really nice.” Actually, I had no choice but to give it to her early. The reservations were for the coming weekend.

  She lifted her chin and looked coy. “Not as nice as the one I got you, I’ll bet.”

  Oh-ho. A competition. “Think so? Can you top a luxury weekend at the Oceanview spa—including hair, nails, facials, and massages? You, me, and Emma and the pampering of our lives?”

  She squealed in delight and bounced in her seat, looking the most excited she had in months. “Omigawd! That place is the best ! It got five stars from Resorts magazine. When is it for?”

  I smiled. “This weekend. You hadn’t mentioned any plans.”

  Her sparkling eyes got even happier. “That’s in the Napa Valley, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “Right in the heart. Not sure why they called it Oceanview, but the pictures on the website are gorgeous.”

  She started bouncing again. “Omigawd! It’s perfect. I think we’re both psychic or something … because look at your present!”

  Dawna reached into her purse just as we reached the library’s parking lot. I found a spot under one of the big twin fluorescent lamps and light flooded the car. She passed me a gilt-edged envelope of heavy pressed linen. Pretty snazzy.

  I opened it and removed three slips of cardboard with more gilt scrollwork and engraved lettering. I turned the shining letters into the light and … “Oh, no way! There is no fucking way I’m seeing this!” My jaw was well and truly dropped. Somehow she had managed the absolutely impossible. I was holding a personalized ticket to the event of the year. “How the hell did you get tickets to the release party?”

  She smiled smugly and shook her head, refusing to answer.

  California is wine country, so anytime a new wine shows up it’s news. About two years ago, twin sisters with no grape-growing background came in and set up shop. They took over a little private winery and planted all new vines. It was very hush-hush and nobody really gave them a chance of success. Everyone expected them to do some big-time begging for press. Surprisingly, they didn’t seek attention. They wouldn’t even give interviews to the major wine magazines. There was a lot of buzz that they’d been in negotiations with the state growers’ association and the EPA about whatever they were doing, and nearly every week some scandal sheet would claim to have the inside track on what sort of wine the sisters were making.

  Then they started entering European wine competitions. The little California start-up took gold medals in both the red and white categories. But no one wrote or spoke about the wine itself—even the judges of the contests kept silent. A couple of French and Italian winemakers’ groups protested, as did a consortium of Australian companies, and the courts got involved. The sisters’ company insisted the court records be sealed because of trade secrets—and they were.

  In the end the sisters gave up the medals, which ended the case with the nature of the wine still concealed. There was a full-blown riot in the press. Nobody in the public had tasted the wine. Nobody could find it. Nobody could beg, borrow, or steal it.

  After all that, Saturday night was the big event—the official, very exclusive, public debut. The wine was named Witches’ Brew and everybody who was anybody was going to be there. Connoisseurs from all over the world had been offering up to six figures for a single ticket, if Internet reports could be believed. But there were none to be had. And each and every one of the few legitimate tickets—like the one in my now-shaking hand—was engraved with the name of the guest.

  “Oh, before I forget.” Dawna took the ticket away from me, turned it over, and pulled a strip of cellophane from one corner. “You need to put your right thumb there and hold it for five seconds.”

  Okay, I was curious. I did as she asked. I felt an odd sensation on my skin, a sort of tickle. When I picked up my thumb after a count of five there was a perfect impression of my fingerprint on the gold foil, as though it was engraved. “Biometrics?”

  “Of a magical variety,” Dawna replied. “They really want to make sure nobody crashes the party. You can’t scan or photocopy the ticket. It comes up blank.”

  Wow. This was just so … wow. “Who did you have to kill or screw to get your hands on these?”

  “No killing, no screwing, and very sorry, but no telling.” She stuck out her tongue and unlocked her seat belt. “I’m off to get you lots of books. Enjoy staring at the pretty gold letters and thinking of what you’re going to wear.”

  “Uh-huh.” I really couldn’t take my eyes off the ticket. I liked wine and I’d been following the story for two full years, ever since I saw the first little page 10 blurb in the Times. I had to taste that wine. I already had an order in with my local store for a bottle when one became available. Now I had the chance to drink a glass before nearly everyone else in the world. Wow.

  I only realized that Dawna had left the car when I saw her halfway across the parking lot, heading for the library entrance.

  Well, either I could sit here and keep staring at the ticket until my eyes bled or I could do something constructive. First on the list was calling Gran.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t home. She’d been home a lot less since she’d moved, but I was glad she was spending time with friends. I waited for the beep, then said, “Hi, Gran. Sorry I missed you. I’ve got great news. Queen Lopaka said that Mom’s problem was being separated from the ocean. She convinced the judge to move Mom to the Isle of Serenity to finish her sentence. They’re going to get her into alcohol treatment and give her counseling. Isn’t that wonderful?” God, I hoped she thought so. “I’ll be out of town this weekend with Dawna and Emma, but give me a call. My phone should be on.”

  I clicked off the call and heard the chime that told me someone had called while I was leaving the message. Typical. I expected it to be Gran because that usually happens. But the number was one I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t even a California area code.

  I called my voice mail and heard a male voice: “Ms. Graves? This is Mick Murphy.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “I know you’ve been working really hard on our behalf, but Molly and I have been talking and we�
�re starting to think that … well, that maybe it would be better to just stop this whole thing. It’s ruining our life. It really is. I don’t know the laws in California, but I’d imagine there’s a way to refuse a bequest in a probate. I know there is here in Arkansas. Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know. We’ll be calling the lawyer tomorrow to see how to get the paperwork started. Thanks again. We both appreciate it.”

  Oh, crap. I mean, I understood what he meant. My bequest was a major pain in the butt—just thinking about owning a building and being responsible for the grass cutting, the perpetually leaky roof, and all of the other things that I usually had handled by the owner. His bequest was just cash, but it was a lot of cash.

  And none of us knew the reason Vicki had left the Murphys all that money. Even Vicki didn’t know, though she insisted there was one.

  I hit the calls-received list and dialed his number. He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “Mick? It’s Celia Graves.”

  He let out a small, embarrassed breath of laugh. “You know, I was actually relieved when I got your voice mail. I didn’t want to have to defend our decision.”

  I wasn’t going to pick on the guy. “Hey, it’s hard. I understand. The whole idea of that kind of money messes with your head.”

  The sound he made was a sort of laugh but really closer to a donkey bray. “It isn’t my head as much as everyone else’s. The calls have been non-stop since it made the press here.”

  “Press? What press? Nobody was supposed to know about the probate while the court case was going on.”

  “This is a small town, Ms. Graves. Nothing, and I mean nothing, goes unnoticed in Fool’s Rush. Someone like your investigator comes to town and everyone knows the story before lunch.”

  I winced. I knew all about bad press and people calling at all hours. “Everybody in town has probably called asking for loans, huh?”