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

by Diana Rowland

  He disengaged from my hand and stood, moved to lean on the porch rail and lifted his gaze to the moon. “I need to get you and Pellini up to speed on the camera security system,” he said. “While you and Idris were gone, I made notes on everything I could think of regarding Jerry, McDunn, and Carter. The file is on Paul’s system and the laptop.”

  Ice slid between my ribs. “You’re leaving?” I barely got the words out then couldn’t stop the torrent. “I understand. I really do. Better for you to be close to Paul. And Seretis. Mzatal shouldn’t have sent you here in the first place. Did he even ask if you wanted to come? I know he can be presumptuous—”

  “Kara! I’m non-essential.”

  “No! That’s bullshit! We’d be up shit creek if you weren’t—”

  “Kara. So was Steeev.”

  The ice drove deeper as his meaning penetrated my thick skull. Non-essential to Katashi. “Oh. Damn.” I stood and joined him at the rail. “You think you’re next.”

  “Knocking out security is a sound plan,” he said. Clinical. Detached. “With Steeev, they didn’t have a body to deal with. No need to worry about police involvement. I believe the only reason they haven’t taken me out yet is because the right opportunity hasn’t presented itself. It makes sense to give you everything I know while I’m still alive and kicking.”

  I placed my hand on his shoulder. “You could go to the demon realm.”

  He turned to face me. Moonlight lit his features in shades of grey like a charcoal drawing. “I’m staying.”

  The words rose on my tongue to argue, to tell him to go where he’d be safe. His eyes met mine, and I swallowed my words. He knew his business. He’d put his life on the line for assholes like Farouche and taken a bullet to the chest for Paul. He’d take one for Jill, or any of us.

  “Damn glad to have you.” To hell with Katashi and his crew. They didn’t have half the heart of my posse.

  Chapter 27

  Idris and Pellini were already gone by the time I woke up, but a note in Pellini’s handwriting by the coffeemaker informed anyone who cared that the coffee had been made at 6:30 a.m. I certainly cared because, even though I was no kind of coffee snob, I disliked stale coffee as much as the next sane person. As it was barely 7:15, the coffee was still good and drinkable, and all was right with the world, at least for a few minutes.

  Bryce came into the kitchen before I finished my first cup, poured one for himself then plopped into an empty chair. “I take it there’ve been no reports of them killing each other yet?”

  “Yet,” I said, sipping my coffee. “The day is young.”

  He chuckled. “They’ll be all right. Idris would never admit it in a million years, but I have a feeling he has a lot of respect for Vince.” At my disbelieving look he went on, “Yesterday was a turning point for them. Vince has a lot of issues, but he keeps his head in a crisis. I think deep down Idris appreciates that.”

  I had to nod in agreement. “I’ve worked in the same department with Pellini for years, but never worked with him on a case. This is the first time I’ve really seen him in action.”

  Bryce’s mouth twitched. “And Idris really likes his silly dog. After you went to bed, he came out and threw the tennis ball for Sammy.” He took a sip of coffee. “Not sure, but I might have heard him laugh.”

  “Now you’re talking crazy. That dog can’t laugh.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Bryce said with a smile. “It was late.” He glanced at the clock. “Gimme ten minutes, and then I’ll head out to the nexus and check in with Seretis.”

  “Enough time for another cup,” I said and headed to the coffeemaker to get started on that.

  • • •

  Bryce sat crosslegged in the middle of the nexus, eyes closed and mouth tight in concentration as he reached between the worlds to Seretis. I sat in a similar pose a couple of feet away and watched him. Sammy lounged in the grass, his eyes on us as if to be sure he wouldn’t miss it if one of us threw a stick for him. Eilahn lay curled in her nest like a cat, recharging. Fuzzykins slept draped over her hip, and I unobtrusively slipped my phone from my pocket and took a picture of them. They were too damn cute.

  After several minutes Bryce’s face relaxed, and a smile touched his mouth. “The connection is stronger.”

  I ignored the dull ache of my lost link to Mzatal. “That’s awesome,” I said, tone chipper. “Strong enough to talk to him?”

  “Working on it,” Bryce replied. “He knows I want to.”

  The concrete slab leeched the warmth from my butt, and I tried without success to keep from fidgeting. It felt like several minutes to my impatient internal clock before Bryce spoke again, though it was probably closer to thirty seconds. “He’s in Rhyzkahl’s realm.”

  “Why the hell is he there?” I asked in surprise.

  Another few seconds of silence and then, “There was an anomaly. It’s settled now.”

  “Oh, crap.” I winced. “Yeah, Rhyzkahl can’t fix those in his current condition.” Anomalies were rifts in the dimensional fabric, remnants from the cataclysm that had nearly destroyed the demon realm. They couldn’t be ignored since they caused a lot of damage and destabilization if not dealt with promptly.

  “All the lords and demahnk were there,” Bryce continued, frowning. “It was bad.”

  “Does that mean you’re talking to Seretis?” I asked, leaning forward.

  He gave a shrug and nod. “It’s not like thinking words to each other, but yeah.”

  I knew what he meant from my own experience with Mzatal. It was an exchange of concepts and thoughts that made for a far deeper communication and understanding than mere words could manage. “Can he help me?” I asked.

  His face abruptly scrunched, and he jerked his hands up to grip his head. “Shit,” he gasped. Eilahn sat up, displacing the cat.

  Worry spiked through me. “What is it?” I demanded. An attack? I swept my gaze around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, that didn’t mean shit since I had no way to detect arcane use. “Bryce, tell me what’s wrong!”

  He dropped to his back. “Ver . . . tigo,” he groaned, still gripping his head.

  I crouched and put my hand on his shoulder, at a loss for how to help. “Eilahn? Do you sense anything?”

  “I sense no attack,” she said, but her eyes remained narrowed as she scanned around us. She staggered to her feet, swayed.

  “Sit down,” I ordered, surprised when she did so without protest, though her frustration with her weakened state showed in the droop of her shoulders.

  Bryce cursed and slapped his hands onto the concrete as if to keep from sliding off a tilting earth. Sammy leaped up and began to bark, but I ignored the excitable dog and held onto Bryce’s shoulder in the hopes of giving him a sense of stability. Sammy bounded toward the woods, barking with increased intensity.

  “Shit shit,” Bryce hissed through clenched teeth. “Valve.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “It’s gone bad?” Shit. There was no one home to stabilize it. Sammy charged into the woods and down the trail toward the pond, continuing to bark his damn head off. “Oh, no,” I breathed. If that stupid dog got himself hurt or killed by an unstable valve, Pellini would lose it.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told Bryce then took off after the dog. “Sammy! Here boy!”

  The dog paid me zero heed and raced on ahead without a single break in the barking, quickly disappearing from sight. “Sammy!” I yelled, running as fast as I dared along the trail without risking smacking into a tree. “Stop! Heel! Sit, dammit!”

  A pain-filled yelp cut off the barking, followed by an ominous silence. My gut turned to ice. “Sammy!”

  An unearthly screech ripped through the woods, chilling me further. I didn’t need arcane skills to know that was no hawk or owl. I slapped at my hip for a gun that wasn’t there. I’ll see what I’m up against, I told myself as I slowed. With a shred of luck maybe I’d be able to grab the dog and run the hell away.

 
Three more cautious steps brought the pond clearing into view. A horse-sized creature with claws and scales and too many legs flailed on the ground as white light streamed from a long rent along its torso. A graa—an eighth-level demon. A heartbeat later the light spiderwebbed over its body and flared. Before I had time to cringe, a sharp crack echoed through the clearing. I blinked spots away from my vision and saw the demon was gone, leaving behind nothing but trampled grass and the stench of rotting flowers and sulfur. Sammy lay sprawled half a dozen feet away, bleeding heavily from several ugly wounds.

  “Oh, no.” I ran forward, only now registering that someone else was there, crouched beside the injured dog.

  “Seretis?” I blurted in shock. Tall and handsome, with brown hair that waved past his shoulders, and sculpted cheekbones. A flowing red poet-style shirt was paired with dark blue breeches and black boots with gold stitching. It was definitely him, though he looked more than a little worse for the wear. One sleeve bore a rip from shoulder to elbow, mud caked his left boot to the ankle, and blood oozed from a palm-sized abrasion on his cheek. He ran his hands lightly over Sammy and murmured in demon. I fumbled for words, torn between the desire to ask how the hell he was here and my worry for the dog. “Please, can you help him?” I asked as I dropped to my knees by Sammy. Other answers could wait.

  “I seek to do so, Kara Gillian,” he said. “The flows here are odd and far weaker than I am accustomed to.” His aura surrounded me like a soft summer breeze. Though muted without my arcane senses, it remained clearly palpable.

  “Thank you. He’s very dear to a friend and ally.” The dog whimpered, and I stroked his head. “It’s okay, boy,” I said to him. “The nice man is going to help you.”

  Sammy shifted only enough to lick my hand as the demonic lord worked on him. The bleeding soon slowed to mere seeping, but the wounds remained open and ugly.

  “A support diagram would serve well,” Seretis said without lifting his eyes from the injured animal.

  My stomach knotted. “I can’t,” I said, voice rough. “I don’t have my skills anymore.”

  “Ah,” he said simply. “That is unfortunate.”

  Not quite the word I’ve been using, I thought but kept it to myself. Damn it, Seretis needed support. Sweat beaded his face, and his skin had a pale cast to it. An unfocused look in his eyes told me he fought dizziness. He needed better access to potency, like a human at high-altitude in need of an oxygen tank.

  I gave myself a mental head-slap. Duh. There was a big ol’ tank of potency right in my backyard. “Can you stand?” I asked him. “There’s a nexus right down that trail which should help you.”

  “I will manage,” he replied then deftly traced a sigil I couldn’t see which he placed on the dog. To ease pain, I figured. I’d been through that process a few times and knew the general motions.

  Sammy’s whining eased, which told me I was right. Seretis gathered the dog in his arms and stood. “I have told Bryce to remain where he is as he was afflicted by my transit through the valve.”

  Through the valve? That explained part of how he got here, though I still had plenty of questions. “Yeah, it knocked him for a loop,” I said then took hold of Seretis’s arm to steady him when he swayed. “C’mon, it’s not far.”

  He cradled Sammy to him and allowed me to lead him down the trail. When the dog whimpered he spoke gently in demon to ease him. “How did you lose your touch to the arcane?” Seretis asked me in an equally gentle tone. “To tell me, you need only bring it to mind.”

  Relieved, I did so. I had no desire to tell the painful story again. After a moment he nodded. “I will assess your condition after tending to this Sammy.”

  At least he didn’t say I was fucked. I could cling to hope a while longer.

  Seretis steadied more as we left the trail and moved out into the open, no doubt already drawing the potency he so desperately needed. Bryce sat in the center of the nexus with a huge grin on his face, but his delight faded at the sight of the bloody dog.

  “Shit,” he breathed. “It’ll kill Pellini if Sammy dies.”

  Seretis placed the dog on the slab then rested a hand briefly on Bryce’s shoulder. “Give me but a moment, ghastuk,” he said with a rich warmth in his voice. He placed both hands flat on the concrete, and though I couldn’t see the power he drew into himself to “recharge,” I had no trouble seeing the results. In less than a minute his color returned to normal, the abrasion on his face diminished then vanished, and his gaze sharpened.

  He lifted his hands from the slab with obvious reluctance then placed them on Sammy. For a moment nothing happened, but then the wounds started to close like a cool and creepy special effect. Sammy’s tail thumped as the nasty gashes thinned. By the time the injuries resolved to unblemished skin, he wagged his tail with enough exuberance to send up clouds of dust and dog hair. Pellini would shit a brick when he saw the hairless stripes, but I had a feeling Seretis didn’t have enough mojo at the moment to re-fur the bare skin.

  The goofy dog wiggled and climbed to his feet, shooooook as if shedding a lake full of water, then happily proceeded to lick and slobber all over the demonic lord’s face. Seretis laughed and scratched Sammy behind his ears as he accepted the effusive affection, but after a moment he looked into the dog’s eyes, expression serious. Bemused, I watched the dog go still and attentive as the two locked gazes. Perhaps Seretis was warning Sammy about tangling with anything that came out of the valve. Maybe he was instructing the dog to be on guard and let him know if anything strange happened—like giving a kid a Very Important Duty to make them feel special while keeping them out of more trouble.

  Finally Seretis smiled and stood. The dog gamboled around him in delighted excitement then raced off, perhaps to begin whatever task the Nice Man had given him. Seretis gave Bryce a hand up, and the two embraced like friends who’d known each other their entire lives.

  “Kara asked me to try to contact you,” Bryce said, “but I have no idea what happened after that.”

  “After our initial contact, I departed through Rhyzkahl’s grove to return to my realm,” Seretis said then grimaced. “Normally a simple transit, one I have made countless times. Yet today the flows warped, and I became disoriented in the interspace. I could find no familiar markers, however I sensed you clearly and followed that flow.”

  Bryce whistled low. “Damn good thing I tried to reach you when I did.”

  “Indeed, it was, ghastuk,” Seretis said. “With you as a beacon I reached a node and realized I was entrapped in the valve system.” He paused as Sammy ran up. The dog proudly dropped what looked like the hindquarters of a long-dead rabbit at his feet then looked up eagerly. Seretis scratched the lab’s ears and fell silent for a few seconds, no doubt clarifying his previous instructions. Sammy barked once and dashed off again. Amusement flashed in the lord’s eyes but he sobered as he resumed his tale.

  “With me in the node was a panicked graa,” Seretis said. “Its attempts to free itself had shattered any usable flows, and I had no option but to clear the entanglements and push it onward or remain ensnared myself. I drove it before me, ever following your call. I passed through your valve at the moment the graa clawed Sammy.” Distaste twisted his mouth. “Fekk. One of Jesral’s.”

  “Jesral sent the graa through on purpose?” I asked with a frown.

  “That is my suspicion,” he said, expression dark. “I do not know how long Fekk was entrapped, but a cross-current in the node led me to believe she was destined for another valve.”

  “Wonderful,” I said sourly. “Only a matter of time before we have selfies with demons going viral online.” I took a deeper breath and gave him a crooked smile. “Anyway, I’m glad you made it through in one piece. Was grove travel this messed up after the cataclysm?”

  Old grief shadowed his eyes. “The groves retreated into the soil at the very start of the cataclysm,” he said. “Most returned after fifty years, though were unusable for close to a hundred. Szerain’s remained qui
escent for a full century and a half.”

  “Oh. Right.” Now I remembered hearing that from the reyza Safar at Szerain’s palace. Felt like a lifetime ago. “Well, I’m going to take the fact that the groves haven’t retreated as a good sign,” I said brightly. “Maybe the demon realm isn’t going to hell in a handbasket anytime soon.”

  Seretis chuckled. “You speak with good sense. I will maintain this conviction.”

  I bit my lip, shifted. “I didn’t expect a house call,” I said, “but now that you’re here, what can you tell me about my condition? Is there any way it can be reversed?” A fountain of hope rose, and I made no effort to hold it back. Intervention by a demonic lord might very well be my best and last chance for a remedy.

  Seretis lifted a hand toward my head then paused, waiting for my permission to fully connect telepathically. As soon as I gave him my nod he rested his hand against the side of my head while I did my best to remain still, both physically and mentally.

  It was several minutes before he lowered his hand. “I do not have an answer, Kara Gillian.”

  The wave of hope crashed onto the rocks of Fuck You Beach, and it was several seconds before I could speak. “Hey, it was worth a shot, right?” I said, voice quavering only a little. “And you were here to save Sammy, so it’s all good.”

  “A solution may well exist,” he said. “I am not the qaztahl most versed in such matters.” But a frown lingered on his face. “I sensed an echo of Kadir.”

  “Oh.” I wrinkled my nose. “I used his technique to symmetrize the valve at the pond and the nature center. Probably left some Kadiriness behind, like bad cologne.”

  His frown deepened more, and his gaze went to where Pellini had created his ring of sigils. “It is more than bad cologne.”

  It took me a second to make the connection. “The simulator,” I growled. “That son of a bitch used it to put his slime on me.” Idris had been right. Damn it. Despite everything, a laugh escaped me, harsh and humorless. “Well isn’t that fucking great. I lose everything arcane except that.”