Vengeance of the Demon: Demon Novels, Book Seven (Kara Gillian 7)

by Diana Rowland

  Pellini, still shimmery, spoke up. “It’s too late. He won’t stop now.”

  An instant later I slammed into my body as if I’d dropped from a height. Heart pounding, I sucked in a breath. My limbs felt heavy and awkward, but the sensation passed before I could panic. I need to go find Pellini! No sooner had the thought formed than sleep overtook me again.

  I woke to an urgent knock on my door and weak sunlight filtering through my curtains.

  “Kara,” Bryce called from the hallway. “We have a situation.”

  I rolled out of bed and yanked open the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “Pellini got past me while I was in the bathroom,” he said. “He’s on the nexus, and Idris just went out to confront him.” With that, he strode off toward the back of the house. I started to follow then double-checked what I was wearing. A tank top and undies. No bra. I grabbed a pair of running shorts and tugged them on as I hurried after Bryce, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d forgotten something important. Not the bra. Something else.

  No time to stop and rack my brain. With Pellini on the nexus and an already suspicious Idris on the way there, bloodshed would soon follow. I flew out the back door, across the porch and down the steps to see Pellini at the center of the nexus, his back to the house. Idris prowled around the edge of the concrete slab like a predator seeking a way to reach its prey.

  “Pellini!” Idris yelled. “Come out of there now!”

  “What happened?” I asked as I slid to a stop on the dewy grass beside Idris. Déjà vu. I’d stood in this same spot a few days ago when Szerain commandeered the nexus. “What did he do?”

  Idris spun toward me, face flushed in anger. “This!” He thrust his hand toward Pellini and struck a veil of transparent potency. Iridescent waves rippled away from the point of impact. “I can’t get through. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  I suppressed a groan. “Pellini, what are you doing?” I called out.

  Pellini ignored us and turned in a slow circle at the center. Bryce descended the steps, gun in hand, and watched everything carefully.

  Idris glared at me. “Happy now?” Once again he tried to penetrate the obstructing veil, this time with a punch so hard and fast I wondered if he’d backed it with potency. Pretty incredible feat if he had. The veil shimmered dark purple and green, but remained intact. He made an inarticulate sound deep in his throat. “We should’ve locked him down!”

  “I don’t need an I-told-you-so right now, okay?” I hated that he might have been right. “Give it a minute. He hasn’t hurt anything.”

  Pellini continued to turn, waving his hands in front of him as if playing invisible bongo drums in slow motion. Where his hands passed, tangled strands of glowing chartreuse potency coalesced in the air. A moment later a ring of the weird-yet-familiar potency floated around him.

  Idris let out a strangled cry of frustration. “What is that?”

  “I’ve seen it before,” I said. “When I helped stabilize Paul in the demon realm.” No way was I going to mention Kadir to the already livid Idris. Not yet. My gaze lingered on the strands of potency. I’d seen it elsewhere too, hadn’t I? Once again, the feeling I’d forgotten something important passed through me.

  Pellini cupped a section of the ring between his hands, then withdrew them to reveal a strange floating sigil.

  Idris went still, face a portrait of shock. “No way.”

  I stared at Pellini, mouth open. “He . . . created a floater.” Neither Idris nor I could trace floaters on Earth. That required mastery of all eleven rings of the shikvihr. Moreover, Pellini hadn’t traced the sigil—he’d created it all at once. Before either of us could process that bit of information, Pellini transformed the ring into eleven vibrant chartreuse and violet sigils.

  “Kadir,” Idris said through clenched teeth. He might not have recognized the chaotic raw potency, but there was no mistaking the unique Kadir-style sigils. “Bryce, can you shoot him?”

  “Hey!” I said. “No one’s shooting anyone!”

  Idris leveled a glower at me. “So, the dude imprinted by Kadir—the one who claims to know nothing of the arcane—is out on your nexus, fulfilling Kadir’s agenda. And you’re okay with that?”

  “Will you please stop being an asshole for a few goddamn minutes?” I gestured toward Pellini and the ring of sigils he’d set spinning around him. “I have a way to stop him if I have to. It worked on Szerain, it’ll work on Pellini.” As the words left my mouth, the important thing I’d forgotten slammed into me with crystalline clarity. Kadir and Pellini in interdimensional space. I sucked in a breath. “I know what he created. It’s a way to teach us how to symmetrize the valves.”

  “How do you know?” Idris asked with outright disbelief. “And why for chrissake would we want to do that?”

  “I saw Kadir last night,” I said with measured calm. “He drew me into a non-physical place between worlds, like Pellini described.” I forged on despite the increasing What the fuck? on Idris’s face. “He said the demon realm is in chaos, and Katashi moves too fast with the work he does, and that we needed to learn how to symmetrize the valves.”

  Idris eyed me warily. “You get that your explanation doesn’t put me at ease, right?”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I can’t believe I’m trying to do this without coffee.”

  “Okay,” Pellini said. He scrutinized the ring of sigils and gave a satisfied nod. “Okay.” He stepped carefully between two sigils and made his way toward us. Bryce holstered his gun but didn’t relax one bit.

  “When did you learn how to do that?” I asked Pellini, pointing at the circle of sigils.

  He stepped off the nexus and glanced back. “Just now, I guess.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said with gross understatement. “How did you know what to do?”

  “Mister, um, I mean, Kadir said I’d know.” He shrugged. “It’s for you and Idris.”

  Without warning, Idris grabbed the front of Pellini’s shirt with both hands to yank him away from the nexus. My gut clenched as potency shimmered on Idris, but I’d underestimated Pellini. The surly detective was overweight and out of shape, but he knew his training. In quick, reflexive movements, Pellini trapped Idris’s hands against his chest, twisted, swept his leg, and shoved him facedown on the grass with his right arm up and held in a wrist lock.

  “Fucking snot-nosed know-it-all punk,” Pellini growled. “Do not lay hands on me unless it’s a Heimlich or CPR.” He released Idris and stepped back.

  Idris rolled away and sat up, features twisted in anger and humiliation. “Won’t happen. I wouldn’t be able to get my arms around you to do the Heimlich.”

  Hurt flashed across Pellini’s face before he buried it under a scowl. “That shit won’t last long.” He jerked his head toward the sigils. “Make the most of it.” With that, he stomped away toward the woods. “Sammy!”

  Bryce offered Idris a hand up. “I hope you know you brought that on yourself,” he said to Idris—to my enormous relief because that meant I didn’t have to say it.

  Idris took Bryce’s hand and stood. He muttered a couple of words that could have been either fuck you or thank you, then marched toward the ring of glowing sigils. Off to my right, Pellini disappeared down the trail that led to the start of the obstacle course, his dog cavorting around him.

  Bryce pursed his lips. “Need me to follow him?”

  “No, it’s cool. He just needs some space,” I said. “Can you hold down the fort? I need to take care of this nexus thing.”

  “I’m on it.”

  I turned to the nexus in time to see Idris attempt to disrupt the circle of sigils. “Hey!” I called out. “Hold on. Who put you in command here?”

  The ring remained unaltered despite his efforts. He cursed and dropped his hands. “Someone has to deal with this crap.”

  “Not by destroying it before we check it out!” I moved forward and examined the slowly spinning ring of sigils. Though most of the sigils weren’t f
amiliar, to my delight I understood the whole of it. “It’s a simulator,” I said. “It’s what we can use to learn how to symmetrize a valve without screwing up a real valve or blowing ourselves up.”

  “And you know this because Kadir told you.” Idris made no attempt to hide the scorn in his voice.

  I scowled. “Kadir said I need to learn how to symmetrize a valve, Pellini said this was for us, and that sigil,” I pointed to three interlocked triangles, “is like one Mzatal always includes in his training patterns, only Kadir-style.”

  Idris folded his arms, face set in a frown. “Maybe it is a simulator, but what else? I don’t intend to get influenced by Kadir.”

  “It’s simple then,” I said. “Don’t use it.” Part of me knew he had a point, but I did, too, and I was completely over his bullshit.

  Without another word, I stepped through the gap between two sigils and onto the center of the nexus. At least that’s where I thought I’d stepped. My heart pounded as the world faded to endless, silent grey. If it had been like this for Pellini, it was no wonder he hadn’t answered us. Shivering, I gulped down my unease. The ominous feeling that Kadir stood right behind me was so strong I glanced over my shoulder to confirm he wasn’t there. Marginally reassured, I watched in fascination as a replica of a standard valve, much like the one by my pond, appeared at my feet.

  An ice-cold electric charge ran up and down my back, and understanding of the Earthside structure of a valve poured into my mind. Potency twisted along the valve boundary. Aspects that appeared flawless to my untrained senses resolved into subtle irregularities, like hair escaping a braid.

  “Asymmetry,” I murmured, ridiculously pleased that I could see it. I followed my Kadir-enhanced intuition to smooth out the flaws and, after what felt like half an hour of work, the valve emitted a flash of arcane blue light then settled into pulsing shimmery blue-green.

  I did a fist pump and examined my work. Whereas Kadir’s barricade seal inhibited the effectiveness of a valve or node, his symmetrization technique enhanced it, like clearing roots from a drain.

  Damn, I had a cool job. Now if only it could pay the bills. But hey, couldn’t have everything.

  The grey, the valve, and all traces of Pellini’s circle of sigils vanished, and I stood in morning sunlight on the nexus.

  Idris stared at me. “How did you unravel it so fast? I couldn’t touch it, but you did it in two seconds.”

  Well, that was interesting. However Kadir had rigged the training, it seemed to be outside the parameters of Earth time. “I learned what there was to learn,” I said with a shrug. “I know how to symmetrize a valve now, and I’m not tainted by Kadir either.” I hoped. Ignoring Idris’s black look, I headed toward the house. “I’ll put on the coffee,” I called over my shoulder. “You can cook the bacon and eggs while I take care of the pond valve.” I wasn’t going to hold my breath for breakfast, but it felt good to say it.

  Bryce angled my way and met me on the porch. “That didn’t take long.”

  “Yeah, Kadir is slick.” I looked sharply at him. “Almost forgot to tell you. I saw Paul last night.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “How? Where?”

  I briefed him on the circumstances. “He looked good,” I said, leaving out the whole weird kneeling thing. “Paul said he’s good and not dying anymore. Kadir said to tell you that Paul is thriving.”

  Bryce exhaled in relief as we entered the kitchen. “It’s more information than I had before. Thanks.” But then he peered at me. “What aren’t you saying?”

  I scowled. “You know, there are times it sucks how perceptive you are.” I busied myself with the coffeemaker in an attempt to come up with a tame way to say it. No luck. “Paul was kneeling at Kadir’s side while Kadir petted his head like a dog. And he gave Paul permission to speak.” I winced. “Paul didn’t seem to object.”

  A muscle in Bryce’s jaw twitched. “Goddammit,” he said, and I knew he had at least as many horrible scenarios playing out in his mind as I did. “I need to see him.”

  “We’ll find a way for that to happen,” I said. “Either in that weird between-the-worlds zone or face-to-face.” A glance out the window revealed Idris still in the center of the nexus. “I need to check on Pellini and the valve. You mind keeping an eye on our problem child for a few?”

  “Do what you need to do,” he said. “I’ll be here.”

  Chapter 14

  I headed down the obstacle course trail and found Pellini sitting on one of the balance logs. Sammy lay at his feet blissfully chomping on a pinecone. “Sorry about the shit with Idris,” I said. “Nice takedown though.”

  “The kid’s wound way too tight,” he said with a shake of his head. “He’s going to get himself or someone else killed.”

  I sat on another log. “He’s been through hell. I swear this isn’t the real Idris. He’s nice and friendly and sweet and,” I sighed, “innocent. He’ll get through this and back to himself.” I hoped.

  “Hell changes people,” Pellini said. A hollow sadness swept across his face. Regret? “Idris will never be the same, but he’s the only one who can choose how he looks on the other side of that kind of hell.”

  A squirrel leaped from the branches of one tree to another. Sammy lifted his head then resumed dismembering the far more catchable pinecone. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” I said quietly.

  Pellini shot me a sidelong look, then slid into his familiar glower. “I know hell,” he said in a gruff throw-away tone. “Raised my fair share back in the day. Put some perps through hell, too.” He picked up a pinecone and flung it with vicious force down the trail. Sammy leaped up and dashed after it. “I have plenty of experience.”

  “I bet you do,” I said. Raising hell was a roiling smokescreen, and he’d slapped on his asshole mask like armor. What sensitive spot was he protecting? I stomped down the urge to pry more. For now.

  Sammy galumphed back with the fresh pinecone, dropped it at Pellini’s feet then shoved his head into Pellini’s face to deliver a slobbery lick. “You stupid fucking mutt,” Pellini muttered with a scowl, but he wrapped his arms around the dog and scratched his back while Sammy continued to apply enthusiastic doggy kisses. Pellini finally pushed the dog away and wiped his face. “You saw it all last night, didn’t you.”

  “Kadir’s playground? Yeah, I was there.” I kicked another pinecone toward Sammy, who glommed onto it with enthusiasm. Pellini’s shoulders relaxed, and I understood his relief. He’d lived a long time with a secret others would call a crazy fantasy. “What happened before I got there?”

  “The ‘devil dog’ that animal control shot was Kuktok, a kzak I’ve known since I was a kid.” He said it matter-of-factly, as though having a cozy rapport with a vicious demon species was no more unusual than a rain shower in Louisiana. “Kadir told me Kuktok was shot before he made it to a valve at Leelan Park . . . but hasn’t arrived back home yet.”

  I exhaled. “I’m so sorry.” I had no idea what would happen if a demon—or human—died in the valve system, between the two worlds.

  Pellini shrugged it off, picked up a stick, broke it. Broke it again. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck’s going on?” he asked. “I got a glimpse of Kadir’s perspective, but I know there’s more to it all.”

  “Can we do it over coffee?” I wasn’t trying to stall him, but Pellini set his mouth in a stubborn line.

  “I need to know.”

  Damn. Note to self: Don’t step outside the house without caffeine ever again. “Let’s take a walk to the valve by my pond,” I said. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

  We proceeded to stroll through the woods while I inundated him with a crash course in the arcane and its bizarre politics: the Mraztur, demonic lords, Katashi, the demon realm, valves, and summoning. I told him about my history with Rhyzkahl and how he’d betrayed me, and even showed him the sigil scars that the lord had carved into my flesh with his essence blade. I stopped short of telling him about anything t
o do with Farouche and the plantation raid. Pellini didn’t need to know about that to understand the rest. Despite everything else, he was a cop—and the murder and mayhem at the plantation were crimes.

  He seemed to take everything I told him in stride. When we reached the pond, I worked to symmetrize the valve while he filled me in on his experiences with Kadir. As I’d suspected, he’d received a “download” from the demonic lord, which imbued him with the knowledge of what to do on the nexus.

  I finished smoothing out the irregularities and straightened with a pleased smile. My valve shimmered blue-green—quiet and stable. This symmetrization stuff rocked. Even if it helped Katashi and the Mraztur in the long game, we needed the short game fix.

  Pellini scrutinized the valve. “You got it right first time out.”

  “You don’t sound surprised.”

  “Nah, Kadir said you’d ace it,” he said. “Makes sense, considering he created the simulator for you.”

  A hint of uncertainty in his voice caught my attention. I stood and faced him. “Pellini, what’s up?”

  “Not sure,” he said. A frown curved his mouth. “I wasn’t born to be a practitioner. Kadir said he created me.”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise at that. An arcane implant or simulator was one thing, but to genetically engineer a practitioner through arcane means? The notion unsettled me, though I had trouble pinpointing why. It was more than unease over the concept of Pellini being a created practitioner.

  “No use worrying too much right now,” I said to reassure him. “I’m sure we’ll find out more—” I froze.

  Created. Kadir created Pellini.

  Szerain’s words echoed back to me.

  Slew Elinor. Created you.

  A chill swept through my body. He’d said that after I confronted him about stabbing Elinor, but now I had a horrifying context for his words. Created me.

  A flash of anger swept away the chill. What had he done? And when? Mzatal once told me the Elinor memories and influence clung to me like an afterthought, though they were also integral to my being. Szerain had held Elinor’s essence captive in his blade, Vsuhl, for centuries. Had he used that blade to alter me? If so, it would have been before his exile—without Vsuhl—to Earth, which was at least fifteen years ago. And with Szerain who the hell knew where right now, I had no way to find out.