Demonicus (Overworld Underground Book 2)

by John Corwin

  Tyler glanced at me. "It's very odd watching you say her name."

  "Do you really think she'll leave you alone?"

  He bit his lip and stared at the road. "It's true she never tortured me, but she didn't try to stop the others either." His shoulders hunched into a shrug. "I think we have a good chance of her staying out of this."

  "Now we just have to find the other two and get their names," I said. "I don't suppose they're also sex addicts."

  Tyler shook his head. "This is going to be harder than I thought. Not only do we have to find each one, but we have to torture the information out of them."

  "At least we can do something about Barboar," I suggested.

  His lips formed a tight line. "We might be able to banish Barboar before he possesses another body, provided I find someone who knows how to do it right."

  Thinking of Barboar and his grenade strengthened my resolve. "Let's stop Barboar first. If he comes back, he'll tell the others where we live."

  Tyler's hand squeezed mine. "Agreed."

  I texted George. Any luck finding an exorcist?

  It was nearly one in the morning, so I didn't expect a response. Perhaps that was why I nearly jumped out of my seat when the phone dinged with a response.

  Exorcist, yes. Abyssal banishment, no. Will let you know more tomorrow.

  It occurred to me that I knew two specialists where banishing demons was concerned. I flicked through my contacts and found the number to a cell phone my father had used only once. After the Exorcists had purged Tyler, my parents revealed to me they'd used a soulstone to keep Tyler's soul from entering the rift to Haedaemos. They'd taken Tyler and me to his condo and left us there, warning me to be careful so as not to draw the attention of the Exorcists.

  I hoped this phone call wouldn't do that very thing.

  The phone rang continuously and never went to voicemail. I redialed, but got the same response. "I guess my father doesn't have his cell phone anymore."

  "Do you really think your parents would help us?"

  I stared forlornly at my phone. "Maybe. At the very least they could point us in the right direction."

  Tyler's hand tightened on my leg. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out."

  I released an exasperated sigh. "I wish I felt as confident as you. Just knowing that one of your former pals could slip into your condo at any moment and kill us all isn't very reassuring."

  He steered around the backside of the Gregorian and toward the parking garage. His gaze flicked to a dark sedan parked near the front of the guest parking lot. I followed his gaze and barely made out a shadowy figure in the car.

  Tyler pulled into the garage and parked. "I'm almost positive that was Detective Long in that car."

  I glanced back though there was no way I could see the guest parking lot. "Why would he be parked out there?"

  "Maybe he's still looking into the gunshots." Tyler shrugged and got out, came around and opened my door for me. "Just what we need—cops and demons spying on us." He blew out a breath. "Maybe we should move temporarily."

  "We could live in my flat," I suggested.

  Tyler chuckled. "Won't it be a bit small with Isabel and Jack there?"

  "I think she's been staying with him a lot." It suddenly occurred to me that Isabel and I might not be flat mates for much longer, provided our relationships went well. It was a bittersweet realization.

  "I'm not certain your apartment is entirely safe either." He shifted the car into park, got out, and walked around to open my door.

  "What do you mean?" I asked when he helped me out. "They don't know where I live."

  "I don't exactly publicize where I live, but Barboar still found me." Tyler led me to the lift and pressed the button. "I'm worried that he and the others might know about you."

  Horror stabbed me in the stomach. "What if they know and went while Isabel was there?" I took out my phone and punched in a quick text to my friend. Don't go back to the apartment. Might be dangerous.

  I received no response, but assumed it was because she and Jack were blissfully asleep.

  "I texted Joe and told him to have the security team watch this place."

  That made me feel marginally better. "I still want to know how Barboar got into your condo."

  Tyler nodded. "I'll have my people look around for clues tomorrow."

  My feet ached from the high heels, and my skin crawled with the imaginary cooties I'd picked up from the sordid places we'd visited tonight. I wanted a hot shower and the warmth of Tyler's body against me as we drifted to sleep.

  I announced my grand plan to him, and he quickly accepted.

  Tyler left early the next morning for meetings with managers of his other companies as he traced what few breadcrumbs there were back to the source of his business troubles. Since two of his companies were in Charlotte, he chartered a jet.

  Joe picked me up in front of the Gregorian. "Good morning, Miss Glass." He opened the back door.

  "I'd like to sit in front, please."

  "Sure." He opened the front door and went to the driver's side.

  "Could you take me by my flat first? I need to pick up some clothes." I checked my phone for any messages from Isabel and tried not to worry at the lack of her response. I texted her again. Are you getting my messages?

  "Is something the matter, Miss Glass?" Joe regarded me with a discerning gaze.

  "Not really. I just haven't heard from Isabel today."

  "Mr. Rock told me about the break-in at the condo." He stopped in front of the apartment complex. "Are you worried about the same thing happening here?"

  "You're rather perceptive, aren't you?"

  "That was how I survived the war." He turned off the SUV, got out, and opened my door. "I'll accompany you."

  "That's really not necessary."

  He ran a hand across his head. "I think it would be best."

  Better safe than sorry. "Thanks."

  Joe nodded. "No problem."

  I jogged inside, thankful I'd worn flats, and we took the lift to my floor. I practically sprinted down the hall to the door, key in hand. It took only a cursory examination of the door handle to realize someone had forced open the door.

  Joe knelt in front of it and ran his finger along the bent metal doorjamb. "Looks like they jimmied it open with a crowbar."

  I twisted the knob. It turned easily—too easily. The inner mechanisms felt broken. The door opened and my heart froze with terror. The den and kitchen had been absolutely trashed. Empty cabinets hung open and all the glassware and food had been smashed and strewn all over the floor. But what truly terrified me were the crimson stains all over the carpet and the upended furniture.

  The copper odor of blood filled my nostrils.

  "You'd better wait here while I investigate," Joe said.

  "Isabel," I croaked. Without another thought, I ran inside, Joe calling out to me to stop.

  But I didn't. I couldn't. My best friend might be dead.

  I checked her bedroom. It looked completely untouched, aside from some dirty clothes in the corner of the room.

  My room was another story. Though nothing had been moved, a crimson pattern stained the duvet, and spattered blood streaked down the wall. I wanted to scream in sorrow and anger and horror. What had happened here?

  "Shit." Joe's voice came from the hallway.

  I ran to him and saw him staring at the bathtub. It was filled with blood. A blood-crusted arm dangled over the side.

  A terrible scream burst from my mouth. I lunged for the tub, but Joe grabbed me.

  "You can't touch it, Miss Glass. We have to call the police."

  My screams drowned out whatever he said next.

  He practically dragged me to the hallway and called the police. Already, other neighbors crowded the hallway, talking among themselves. I didn't know any of them.

  "What happened, dear?" asked an older woman.

  "We're waiting on the police," Joe said.

  Another person's
voice reached my ear. "Did she murder someone?"

  The authorities arrived and made everyone go back into their apartments.

  Agonizing sorrow held me tight in its grip. I couldn't think straight and found it difficult to answer questions a detective asked me. "Isabel," I said in a weak voice. "Please not Isabel."

  "There are two bodies in there," I heard one of the blue uniforms say. "Literally a bloodbath."

  "Christ Almighty." The second man shuddered. "What a world we live in."

  I almost passed out when his words registered with me.

  Jack and Isabel were dead.

  Chapter 10

  An interminable time later, a man in khakis and a polo knelt in front of me. His nametag identified him as Dudley Morgan, a lab technician. He looked back at the blue uniforms as if seeing if they were listening and turned to me.

  "I just want you to know that we identified the bodies as Pat and Beth Reynolds, your next-door neighbors."

  A terrible weight lifted from my chest. "It's not Jack and Isabel?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not supposed to be telling you this, because of the investigation, but it looks like someone broke into your apartment and made a lot of noise. When your neighbors came to investigate, the intruder killed them."

  "Why are you telling me?"

  Dudley gave me a conspiratorial look. "I help George clean up messes from time to time."

  Joe walked up behind Dudley, a frustrated look on his face. "I can't get a straight answer out of anyone, Miss Glass."

  Dudley stood. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Miss Glass."

  "Thank you so much." I was still soundly shaken and nauseous. Bitter sorrow clung to my soul as I thought about my poor neighbors. Barboar must have come to my place first while looking for Tyler. I'd left a note on the fridge with Tyler's address some time ago in case Isabel needed it. I'd been so shocked by the sight of blood, I hadn't even thought about it.

  I looked at my phone and saw a text I'd meant to send to Tyler. Jack and Isabel are dead. I apparently hadn't hit the send button. I erased the text and sent him a longer one with details about the apartment break-in.

  I'm cancelling my meetings and coming straight home. Tyler replied.

  No! Barboar did this before he came to your place. I'm safe. You need to find out who's behind the business problems. I'm going to work. Or at least I planned to once the police told me I could.

  There was a long pause before his next text. Fine, but let me know at the first sign of trouble. Love you.

  A familiar figure exited. "We meet again, Miss Glass." Detective Long seemed awfully pleased with himself. "Where you were yesterday?"

  Joe put himself between us. "Hasn't she been through enough today without an interrogation?"

  He gave Joe a pointed look. "I need to ask her a few questions before she's free to go."

  I tucked my phone in my purse and took a deep breath. "I stayed at my boyfriend's condo the night before and went to work all day. After work, he and I went for drinks with friends."

  He jotted something on a notepad. "I suppose they can corroborate that?"

  "Surely you don't think I committed this gruesome crime?"

  "You tracked bloody footprints all over a crime scene, Miss Glass." His upper lip curled. "Either you had something to do with it, or you completely polluted the evidence by tromping inside."

  My other emotions vanished in a flare of anger. "I thought my friend was in there!"

  His eyes narrowed. "How well do you know Pat and Beth Reynolds?"

  I decided to play stupid since Dudley shouldn't have told me anything. I pinched my brow. "Not at all. Who are they?"

  "Have you noticed any suspicious activity on your premises before? Do you have any enemies? Where were you last night? Does Tyler Rock know Pat and Beth Reynolds?" He rained question after question on me for nearly an hour while Joe stood by and watched helplessly.

  I played ignorant about everything. I couldn't simply tell him about Barboar or Tyler's other enemies. When he asked me for the names of people who could corroborate my whereabouts on the day in question, I gave him Jack, Isabel, and Tyler's.

  He tapped a pen to his lips. "You can go, but—"

  "Don't leave town?" I said sweetly.

  His face darkened. "Don't get smart with me, Miss Glass. I can make things difficult for you during the investigation whether you're guilty or not."

  Joe sprang off the wall. "Is that a threat?"

  Detective Long raised an eyebrow and looked at the taller man. "I do what it takes to make someone cooperate." He turned and went back inside the apartment.

  "Asshole." Joe flinched. "I'm sorry, Miss Glass, it was unprofessional of me to say that."

  I touched his arm. "He is an asshole Joe. I think being truthful and forthright is very professional."

  He blew out a breath. "Would you like me to take you home?"

  "No, I'd much prefer to go to work."

  The moment I entered the lobby at work, I went to the programming department, found Jack, and motioned him aside. "Why hasn't Isabel answered my texts today?"

  Jack blinked. "Why hello to you too, Emily."

  I huffed. "This is a serious question."

  "She left her phone at my place." He shrugged. "I noticed it when I was leaving."

  Even though I knew Isabel wasn't dead, I still sagged with relief and leaned against the wall for support. "There's been an incident."

  Jack's face went white. "Is Isabel okay?"

  I waved away his concern. "Yes, she's fine. Our apartment, on the other hand, is uninhabitable."

  He frowned. "Water damage?"

  "If only." I told him what I'd found. By the time I finished, Jack was the one leaning on the wall for support.

  "Holy shit, Em." He stared in horror at me. "What if we'd been there?"

  "I don't even want to think about it." I took a moment to calm the churning in my stomach and to figure out what I should tell Jack. I decided it was best not to tie it to Tyler.

  "Do the cops know why this happened?"

  I shook my head. "No." That much was true.

  Jack ran a shaking hand through his hair. "I gotta go see Isabel right now." He looked up. "Is that okay?"

  "I'm not your boss."

  "Yeah, well, Tyler is." He didn't need to qualify the statement further.

  "Sure. I'll cover for you." I gripped his hands. "Hug her for me too, okay?"

  He pressed the heels of his hands into red eyes. "I will."

  I walked him to the lift. Sandra raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he left. I went to check in with Kevin, but he was out meeting with clients. Since I was officially the assistant to Kevin and Jack, their absences left me with very little to do. I knew I should do something productive, but my late night combined with the horrific morning left me feeling drained. I walked down the back hall and sneaked into the stairwell so I could sit down and rest my eyes a moment. I walked down a couple of flights of stairs and sat on the floor in a most unladylike manner. My office would have been far more preferable, but it lacked privacy. The last thing I wanted was for the others to see me napping on the job.

  The thud of a closing door echoed down the stairwell a moment after I closed my eyes. I remained still, listening closely for someone descending. Instead, I heard voices speaking in half whispers.

  "They're both out. Can you install the software?"

  "Yeah, I need you to watch the hallway outside Kevin's office, then we'll move to Jack's."

  "Not a problem." A pause. "What about the bitch?"

  "She's not in either. I walked around the office and didn't see her. It's the perfect time to do this." His whisper broke into a full voice that I instantly recognized. I knew who the other person was by association.

  Thomas Jones and George Hinkle.

  When I'd first met Thomas, I'd fallen for him fast, primarily because he was possessed by Tyler at the time. Without my wonderful demon controlling him, Thomas Jones was a complete
ass. Hinkle, the former head of the programming department, was nearly his twin brother, at least in spirit. They'd been profoundly displeased with the change in management, and with their demotions.

  I'd wanted to fire them, but Tyler believed in giving everyone a second chance. His instincts were wrong with these two.

  I almost marched up the stairs to confront them, but instantly thought better of it. It sounded like they planned to install malicious software on Jack and Kevin's computers, but I didn't know more than that.

  "This is gonna make us rich and bankrupt that stupid bitch and her boyfriend at the same time," Jones said.

  "Let's do this now," Hinkle said. "I don't know how much time we have."

  My face grew hot at Jones's words, but I knew it'd be better to find out what they were doing before making accusations. The stairwell door clicked open and shut again. I took off my flats and ran barefooted up the stairs. I peeked through the door and saw the pair turn the corner in the back hall toward Kevin's office.

  I crept to the corner and peeked around it. Jones leaned casually against a wall in the corridor, facing toward the other end of the hall. I didn't see a way to spy on Hinkle, so I turned around and went to Jack's office. The programming department was nearly empty since it was lunchtime, offering an easy opportunity for Jones and Hinkle to do what they needed to do.

  I searched high and low for a hiding place, but there was nowhere to conceal myself. I examined the webcam on Jack's monitor, but didn't know how I could activate it without Hinkle realizing it was on. It then occurred to me that I had the perfect spy device. I took out my phone, turned on its video recording feature, and propped it on a shelf behind and to the side of the computer monitor. From that angle and height, it should have a good view of Hinkle's activities.

  I quickly left the office and hid inside one of the cubicles near the back of the room. I could peer over the edge of the divider and have a clear view of Jack's office through the open door. Moments later, Jones and Hinkle came around the corner from the back hallway with furtive looks on their faces. I resisted the urge to hurl a stapler at Jones as he took up a position outside Jack's office.