Sins of the Demon

by Diana Rowland

  The pair headed straight for our table without a second’s hesitation, and I gave Eilahn a narrow-eyed glare. “You called the others?”

  “I did,” she answered serenely as she quickly inscribed the anti-eavesdropping sigil on the table. “You have many tribulations at the moment and require the assistance of those you call friend. And I knew you would not ask them for that assistance.”

  I frowned. She was right. It seemed more than a little selfish to call people up and say, “Hey, I have a problem, can you drop everything and help me?” But that’s what friends DO, moron, I chided myself. I was still getting used to the whole dynamic, obviously.

  “Hiya, chick,” Jill said. Her tone was bright, but her expression was fierce.

  “Hiya, yourself,” I said. “I hear my roommate’s been tattling on me.”

  Jill gave a shrug and a grin. “Nah, she just said you were buying breakfast.”

  “Sure. What the hell,” I said with a laugh. “At least it’s pancakes and not steaks. Is Ryan coming as well?”

  “Right behind us,” Zack said with a jerk of his head toward the door. True to his word, the man in question entered as if on cue.

  Ryan paused as soon as he entered and did a scan of the interior. I could see him mentally cataloguing the occupants and exits—possibly not even aware he was doing so. Maybe that was why it was so hard for me to wrap my head around the “he’s a demonic lord” idea. Other than a couple of rare breaks in the façade, he was every inch the federal agent. And his personal history was insanely complete as well. Could I be wrong?

  No, I knew what I’d seen. And Eilahn had definitely shouted the name “Szerain.” I also knew, logically, that I should be as wary of him as I was of Rhyzkahl. Maybe it was easier to trust him because he never—well, almost never—acted like a demonic lord? Dear Santa, I thought, what I want for Christmas is for all this crap to make sense.

  Ryan headed to our table and slid into the empty chair beside me, positioning himself so that he still had a good view of the room and the entrance. “Morning,” he said, almost as an afterthought.

  “We should order,” Eilahn instructed. “And then Kara can fill you all in.”

  Ryan gave me a questioning look. “Is it the usual? Life in danger, world ending, nasty magic creatures running around unchecked?”

  Laughing, I nodded. “That about covers it!”

  Breakfast was duly ordered and much coffee consumed, then I filled them in on everything I knew—the deaths, my connection to the victims, the portals, the graa attack, the cuff and what it was for, and the suspicion that I’d been drugged.

  A silence fell after I finished.

  “Goddamn, I’m glad we ate first,” Zack finally said. A laugh swept the table, nicely breaking the tension.

  Jill leaned her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands. “You suspect that the victims were given something that gave ’em temporary magic? Or whatever the fuck it is you do,” she added with a wink at me.

  Grimacing, I rubbed my temples. “I think their sensitivity is being increased, and somehow they’re drawn to the resonance these portals have.”

  “And then when they actually find one it overloads their brains?” she asked.

  “That’s the working hypothesis,” I said. “As far as I know, none of those people had any sort of arcane skill, or if so, only a trickle.”

  “Is there a drug that can do that?” Ryan asked. To my surprise he looked over to Eilahn for an answer.

  The demon pursed her lips, frowning. “I have heard of such—compounds that can open the channels used for manipulating and detecting power flows.”

  Zack tensed, and alarm flashed quickly across his face. He quickly schooled his features, but his eyes flicked toward Ryan then away. I had the impression he had something to say but didn’t dare.

  Ryan doesn’t know Zack is a demon, I reminded myself. If Zack revealed knowledge of that world it would give him away. In other words, I needed to find a way to get him to spill what he knew. Not an easy task since Zack was oathbound against talking about much demon stuff.

  “Use of these compounds is generally proscribed,” Eilahn continued, “due to the unpredictable and dangerous side effects.”

  “Would stuff like that show up on a tox screen?” Jill asked.

  “Doubtful,” Eilahn said, forehead puckering. “Most of the ingredients used can only be found in the demon realm.”

  “Yeah, Doc’s in a tizzy,” I said. “He can’t figure out what’s causing these strokes.”

  “Poor guy.” Jill grimaced. “It’s not like you can clue him in that it’s something out of this world.”

  “No kidding!” I said. “He already thinks I’m weird enough.”

  “Is Kara in danger of having a stroke?” Ryan asked Eilahn, face dark and serious.

  “It is my suspicion that Kara is being affected by a different substance than the others,” Eilahn stated. “She already has extensive arcane skills.”

  I noticed that Eilahn didn’t answer Ryan’s question. “Well, that’s cheery,” I said. “But if the others were used to find portals, that means I was tagged to find something as well. Plus,” I lifted my arm and shoved my sleeve back, “I’m only experiencing side effects when I’m not wearing this thing.”

  Jill leaned forward to snag the maple syrup. “And you think this graa attacked these other victims as well? Wouldn’t they have freaked the hell out?”

  “Demons are fast,” Eilahn answered. “All it had to do was scratch them. It’s quite possible they never saw it, especially if it was dark.”

  “Hang on.” I yanked my phone out of my bag, then thumbed in a text to my aunt. Can you pls ask Carl if stroke vics had any weird scratches on bodies?

  “Let’s make sure there’s really a connection before we get too confused,” I explained to the others. “If the graa is the common vector, then we know our main focus is finding the summoner who called it.” A few seconds later my phone dinged. Yes.

  Frowning, I texted a reply: is that yes they had scratches or yes you can ask him?

  I scowled at the phone as I waited.

  yes to both. Vics had deep scratches. I’ll have Carl let me into morgue so I can check if from demon.

  I related the exchange to the others.

  “Your aunt rocks,” Jill said. “She’s weird and scary, but she rocks.” She tilted her head. “Kinda like you.”

  “Thanks,” I said drily.

  Jill grinned then tapped the table. “But I don’t understand something. Why would someone set Kara up to make her look like a possible killer and then also drug or poison her?”

  I sat back. “Right. That doesn’t make sense to me either.”

  “Someone who wants to fuck with her,” Ryan said. “Get her off balance. Maybe someone with an ax to grind.”

  Jill let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, god, if we have to track down everyone Kara has ever pissed off, we’re screwed.”

  “Bitch,” I said and stuck my tongue out at her for good measure.

  “You know it!” she said, eyes sparkling with humor.

  “I have to say, though, it really is the perfect setup.” I grimaced. “Drug me with something that makes me do irrational shit, right when people around me start dying.”

  Eilahn pursed her lips. “And it would have appeared far worse if not for the fact that most of your ‘irrational shit’ has been controlled by the cuff.”

  I nodded. “But still, if they’re going after me—another summoner,” I said, musing, “—they have to figure the payoff is worth the risk.”

  “Or they’re desperate enough to risk it,” Ryan added.

  I tugged my hands through my hair as an uncomfortable thought occurred to me. I slid my eyes to Eilahn. “Are you able to assess for summoning ability?”

  “That is not one of my skills,” she said, spreading her hands in apology.

  Zack eyed me. “You have a suspect?”

  I shifted in my chair, uncertain
. “I’ll be shocked if he turns out to be a summoner, but…well, this ex-boyfriend of mine, Roman Hatch, lost his job at ESPN earlier this spring. He arrived here in town shortly before the first murder. In fact he found the body.”

  Zack raised an eyebrow. “I think that qualifies him as a person of interest.”

  “Right.” I cast my memory back over the conversation. “He also said he was staying in town a few extra days because one of his projects was taking longer than expected.”

  Jill gave a smirk. “I think that’s what we in the biz call ‘a clue.’ ”

  I nodded, smiled tightly. “I guess I’ll be summoning a demon to check him out tonight.”

  “Cool!” Jill said, mischievous smile on her face. “We can have a demon summoning party!”

  “Like hell!” I said, giving her a dark glower. She merely chuckled. My phone dinged and I dropped my eyes to it, expecting it to be from my aunt.

  It wasn’t. “Shit,” I muttered as I read the text.

  “What’s wrong?” Ryan asked.

  “Chief wants to see me, ASAP.” I sighed. “Somehow I have a feeling he’s not calling me in to offer me a promotion.”

  Chapter 15

  Despite joking, my nerves were a frayed mess about being called in to talk to the chief. I had no doubt as to the reason, and I could only be deeply glad that I’d already spilled the beans to my sergeant.

  I flashed a relaxed smile to the secretary in the chief’s outer office—even though I felt anything but relaxed—and tapped on his door frame. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  Chief Robert Turnham gave me a smile as he waved me in, but there was a tightness around his eyes that did nothing to ease the knot of worry in my gut. He’d recently decided to give in to his ever-retreating hairline and shave his head, but the combination of that with his dark skin, his height, and his gangly, thin limbs had him resembling one of the creatures from the movie Aliens. Though without the slavering teeth and poison blood and all that. He and I had always gotten along fairly well. He had a tendency to be dour and anal retentive, but he was a damn good cop with tons of experience, and he’d always treated me with respect.

  But right now it was pretty obvious he was stressed and worried. Obviously something more was going on.

  “Have a seat, Kara,” he said. I complied, doing my best to keep my expression even and calm. He’d had the walls painted in here, I noticed—a warm blue that matched the tones in the Beaulac PD seal on the wall behind his desk. The carpet had been updated too—a dark gray that that was a huge improvement over the bilious tan of its predecessor. The desk, chairs, and bookshelves were real wood now instead of metal, but nothing that looked like it cost and arm and a leg. Not much else had changed, though. The books and various awards were still aligned neatly, and I doubted I’d find any dust on the shelves. The overall effect was “serviceable and classy,” which pretty much fit the chief to a T.

  He leaned forward and interlaced his fingers together on the desk in front of him. His face fell into lines of concern that I knew weren’t fake. “I’m not going to waste time with bullshit small talk, Kara. I received a tip this morning, from an anonymous person, stating that the deaths of Barry Landrieu, Evelyn Stark, and Thomas Chartres are connected. And that we should be looking at you as a murder suspect.”

  I took an unsteady breath. “As I told Sergeant Crawford, yes, I knew all three. And no, I sure as hell didn’t murder any of them.” I gave him a terse explanation of who each person was—everything I’d told Sarge. Okay, maybe not everything. I could probably safely leave out the bit about the demons and portals and whatnot.

  He blew out his breath and leaned back in his chair. “So there are two possibilities that leap to mind. First is that you’re being set up, and second is that you’re a serial killer.” He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “Or both,” I replied with a weak laugh.

  “Or both,” he acknowledged, barest hint of a smile playing on his mouth, but the tension around his eyes hadn’t left.

  “Sir, I’d like to point out that that there’s nothing to suggest any of these people were murdered.”

  “True enough. However, I’ve spoken to Dr. Lanza and he’s concerned that all of them had similar causes of death, though right now he’s more worried that it could be something contagious, and he’s currently going back and forth with the CDC.”

  That was a troubling thought, but I had a tough time believing it. If it was contagious then more people would be affected than just the ones on my not-invited-to-my-birthday-party list. The tox didn’t show anything because it wasn’t the sort of thing a tox screen could detect. At least that was my theory.

  He cocked his head. “Do you think it’s all a giant coincidence?”

  “Fuck no,” I said. “What’s that saying? ‘Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern.’ ”

  He steepled his fingers in front of him. “There’s a variation of that phrase that says ‘three times is enemy action.’ ”

  Scowling, I nodded. “Can you tell me how this tip came in?” Because if that wasn’t sent by my mystery summoner or someone working with him, I’d eat my demon’s cat.

  “Phone call, from a prepaid cell phone. Cash.”

  Crap. There’d be no chance of tracing that.

  “It’s a damn good thing that you told your sergeant about your connection to these victims,” he said. “But until we—”

  He was cut off by the opening of the door. I glanced back to see who it was, deeply unsettled to see Mayor Peter Fussell enter and close the door behind him. I fought to keep any of it from showing on my face. The mayor gave me a tight smirk of a smile, which didn’t do a damn thing to relax me. He didn’t like me, and the feeling was completely mutual. Not long ago he’d attempted to coerce and threaten me into revealing confidential information on an active murder investigation. With the help of my sergeant, I’d recorded the conversation and had threatened him right back. Yeah, he didn’t love me.

  “She’s still here, Robert?” he said as he pulled his overcoat off. “I’d have thought you’d have her gun and badge by now at the very least. And maybe have her in jail for good measure.”

  My stomach dove into my toes. I was fully aware that the Chief of Police was appointed by the mayor. It didn’t matter how much Chief Turnham admired, respected, or even tolerated me—if it came down to a choice between me and his job, I knew which way it would fall.

  Annoyance swept over Chief Turnham’s face. “I have nothing to arrest her for, Peter.”

  The mayor dropped into the other chair and eyed me. “Three people dead. And you hated them all, didn’t you?”

  I eyed him right back. “Is this an interrogation?” I asked, then looked over at my chief. “Because, if so, I want a lawyer.” I shifted my arm to reassure myself the cuff was still there, relieved that I’d been so stressed about being called in that I’d forgotten to slip it off. Yeah, the white hot rage I was feeling right now was all my own.

  “It’s not an interrogation, Kara,” the chief replied. “However, until we can get this whole mess cleared up, I think it’s best if you go on administrative leave.”

  Even though I was half-expecting it, the news was still a punch in the gut. “I haven’t done anything wrong, sir,” I managed.

  “That we know of,” Fussell said with a dubious sniff.

  Chief Turnham shot him a quelling glance, then gave me a more reassuring look. “It’ll be with pay, and it’s in your best interest. This way there can be no question of impropriety in the investigation.”

  “Yes, sir.” I understood it. I really did. But I didn’t have to like it one bit.

  “Stop coddling her, Turnham,” the mayor sneered. “Get a search warrant for her house, and get the evidence you need.”

  I leveled a black glare at the mayor. “You don’t have the probable cause for a search warrant.”

  He sat forward. “Then sign a consent-to-search and prove you’re innocent.”r />
  “Not in this lifetime,” I shot back.

  He laughed and looked over to the chief. “See? She’s obviously hiding something. You could fire her for insubordination for refusing to follow an order.”

  “Oh, for God’s sakes, Peter,” the chief muttered.

  “Mayor Fussell,” I said as I fought to remain calm, “with all due respect, just because I’m a city employee doesn’t mean that you or anyone else has leave to trample all over my civil rights. And if you insist on having me fired for refusing to consent to a search of my private residence, you and this city can most certainly brace yourselves for a lawsuit.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Chief Turnham said, voice sharp and firm. My respect for my chief soared.

  I gave him a polite nod. “And I appreciate that. Am I to assume that my leave is effective immediately?”

  He sighed, deep regret in his eyes. “I think that would be for the best.”

  I stood and gave him a grateful smile, then gave the mayor a slight, mocking bow. “Y’all have a Merry Christmas!” I turned and left, and even resisted the desire to slam the door behind me.

  But once I was out, the smile slid off my face as I strode quickly down the hall to my office. True, it could have been worse. Administrative leave was a shitload better than a suspension. Basically I’d just been given a paid vacation. But I still felt as if I’d been hamstrung.

  No one else was around, which was a relief. I didn’t feel like going into an explanation of the whole thing for anyone right now. I ducked into my office and quickly gathered up the few personal items I gave a damn about, just in case this whole situation turned to even more shit, and I couldn’t get back here for a while.

  On my way home I called Jill. “Guess who’s a murder suspect!”

  She groaned. “Please tell me you’re not in jail.”