Secrets of the Demon kg-3

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Secrets of the Demon kg-3 Page 17

by Diana Rowland


  “You take the bedroom, I’ll take the office?” I suggested.

  Zack nodded. “Deal.”

  Compared to the rest of the house, the office was practically opulent. It looked like a record executive’s office ought to look, with pictures of celebrities and framed CD covers on the walls. One of the largest pictures was of Adam and the members of Ether Madhouse standing on the Mississippi River levee with the muddy water behind them. All were grinning, with their arms linked around each other, and I had the feeling it had been taken shortly after they’d landed the deal with Levee 9 Records.

  A lovely and large dark oak desk dominated the room, pristine except for one neat stack of papers atop it. There were two leather chairs in front of the desk and a luxuriously padded black leather executive chair behind it. I sat in the executive chair and ran my finger along the desk, then peered at the papers. Pursing my lips in thought, I tugged the middle drawer open.

  Well, well ... “Yo, Zack,” I called. “Found something interesting.” I pulled the papers out of the drawer and set them on top of the desk.

  Zack came into the room. “What’s up?”

  I pushed the top paper to him. He picked it up and frowned, then glanced over the other items I’d pulled out.

  “Sooo,” he drawled, “according to this, Taylor not only posted the threats on the band’s website, but also paid some guy named Alvin five hundred dollars to dress all in black and grab Lida off the stage.”

  “It sure looks that way,” I said. “Wow. That was easy. Case closed!”

  Zack sat on the edge of the desk. “Awfully careless of him to leave it where it could be so easily found.”

  I let out a snort. “No shit. Especially in an office that he didn’t use very often.”

  His gaze raked the room. “Right. His laptop is in his bedroom, as well as paperwork concerning gigs for the band. He probably only used this room if he had to meet with a potential client or some such thing.”

  I set my hands on the arms of the chair. “You wanna hear my theory?”

  He grinned. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nope. You’re a captive audience,” I said with a laugh. “So here’s the thing: I do think Adam knew that Lida was going to get grabbed off the stage, because after she was pulled out of the river, he said, ‘I never thought it would go this far.’ ”

  Zack nodded. “But obviously someone else was involved too. Someone who wanted to make it look like it was all Adam’s idea. And then Adam has an unfortunate tumble down the stairs.”

  I leaned back in the chair, frowning. “Well, yeah. Someone else was definitely involved since I doubt Adam sicced the thing on himself and then drove it away from the studio. But I’m still wondering if the fact that Adam wrote some bad checks to Vic Kerry has anything to do with either murder.” I chewed my lip in thought.

  Zack skimmed the paper in his hand again. “If not for your ability to sense the golem, we wouldn’t know that there was any possibility of a connection between the two murders.” A frown furrowed his brow. “But why not stage Adam’s death as a suicide?”

  “I don’t think the golem is sophisticated enough to do what that would entail. No windows to throw him out of at the studio. Maybe they were hoping it would look like an accident.” Damn, but this chair was comfy. I needed to get something like this for my own office.

  “Ah. That makes sense. All right, well let’s say that the attack on Lida went too far. So maybe Adam started to get cold feet, and the golem was sent after him to keep him quiet.”

  “That makes sense, especially considering the amount of pressure that Ben Moran’s been putting on the department to make it all go away.” Then I grimaced. “Except for the murder of Vic who might have been mistaken for Roger, or the fact that Adam wrote bad checks to Vic, or for the fact that Vic might have loaned money to Adam ...” I pinched the bridge of my nose and grimaced. “Here comes the headache.”

  Zack continued to shuffle through the papers. “Let’s focus on one scenario at a time.”

  “I’m more than willing to go with that for now,” I agreed, then had to stifle a yawn. “Okay, I’m dying here. Let’s finish this shit up. I’ve had a helluva full day.” I stood and gathered up the papers.

  We went through the rest of the house, not finding anything else interesting or incriminating, and nothing that would point us to who the other involved party was. We collected Adam’s laptop and filled a box with papers and various documents to look at later, then headed out.

  We exited into full night with the moon high in the sky. “I’m afraid to look at my watch,” I said with a mock-whimper.

  Zack grinned. “Why it’s barely eight P.M.”

  “Liar,” I replied as I shoved the box and the laptop into the trunk of my car. “But I appreciate the effort.” I slammed the trunk closed. “I think I’m going to start sleeping every other night. This ‘regular sleep cycle’ thing is for wimps.”

  “There’s a great science fiction series about people who’ve been genetically engineered to not need sleep,” Zack said, looking up at the sky with a slight frown.

  “That’s what I need!”

  A slight smile crossed his face. “The books or the not needing sleep?”

  I made a rude noise. “If I didn’t need to sleep I might have time to read a book occasionally. I mean, other than for research.” He was still looking at the sky, and I followed his gaze. It was a clear night and the moon was almost three quarters full, but I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

  He dropped his gaze and shook his head. “Nothing. Just had a strange—”

  A sharp cold wind slammed into us, cutting his words off and whipping dirt into our faces. Good thing I already put the papers in the trunk, was my first thought, quickly chased by a spasm of fear as the wind died.

  That felt like the thing at the City Towers building ...

  “Zack,” I gasped,“get in the car. There’s something—”

  He grabbed me by my arm, almost yanking it out of its socket as he took off at a run, near dragging me along. “No! Car’s not safe. You need to get as far away as possible before it forms!”

  I struggled to keep up with him, and only his fierce grip on my arm kept me from sprawling face first. “Before what forms?” I managed to ask. I expected him to veer between the houses, but he kept to the street. Apparently distance was more important than cover.

  “It’s a portal,” he said through clenched teeth, pulling me along even though I was running as fast as I could— which, admittedly, wasn’t all that fast. “Can’t you feel it? It’s a summoning!”

  I stumbled as his words penetrated, then my shock tripled as Zack hoisted me up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “Hang on!” he ordered. And then ran.

  I’d only thought he’d been running before. I clung for dear life as he nearly doubled his pace, sprinting flat-out like an Olympian, and as if he didn’t have my not-so-light weight draped across his shoulders. Holy shit, the man had some seriously inhuman speed.

  Oh, shit. The realization slammed home. Zack’s not human.

  A few seconds later—though it felt like a few hours—he slowed and stopped, then set me on my feet. He held me carefully to make sure I was steady before releasing me, then stepped back. He didn’t say anything. He seemed to know what I was going to say.

  Too bad I didn’t know what I was going to say. “Are we far enough away?” I finally asked.

  Zack nodded, eyes steady on me. He looked oddly expectant and bereft at the same time.

  I swallowed and took a deep breath. “How did you know it was a summoning?”

  “I’ve felt them before,” he answered, voice low.

  Them. More than one. “Was it directed at me or you?”

  “I have no way to know that,” he said, still terribly calm and quiet.

  “If you were to guess,” I prompted.

  “I would guess that it was directed at you,” he said with a slight
nod, as if to congratulate me on the handling of the question.

  A summoning of me. Someone from the demon realm was trying to pull me through a portal, the same way I pulled demons into this world. My knees wanted to shake at everything that implied, but I forced the panic down with every ounce of control I had and took another deep breath. “Are you human?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.

  He closed his eyes, naked pain on his face. “I cannot answer that.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Both,” he replied in little more than a whisper. “I’m bound by oath.”

  “You’re a demon,” I breathed. He didn’t move or answer, but I didn’t need him to. What kind of demon can look like a human? I’d never heard of a demon being able to shapeshift. Then again, there was a lot I didn’t know about the demonkind.

  “Is Ryan a demon?” I squeaked.

  He opened his eyes and met my gaze. “No,” he said, voice soft but firm. Relief swirled through me and for an instant I thought I saw a flash of pity in Zack’s eyes, but then he looked away.

  “Is he a summoner?” I was more than willing to keep asking questions as long as Zack would keep answering them, especially since it kept me from thinking about the extremely scary thought of someone trying to summon me.

  He hesitated for so long I began to think he wasn’t going to answer. “He has the ability to open a portal,” he finally said, voice very low.

  I could feel a knot in my chest relax ever so slightly. A summoner, though perhaps one who’d never been trained in the art. “The demons hate him,” I persisted. “They call him a kiraknikahl. Why? What did he do?”

  “I cannot say,” Zack repeated, voice tight and pained. “Only that his punishment was dire. And just.”

  I took a step closer to Zack. “Please. I want to help him. He’s my best friend.”

  Zack met my eyes. “I know. It’s why I could risk revealing myself to save you from being drawn through the portal.”

  The way he phrased that struck me as strange, but before I could pursue it he put his hands on my shoulders. “Kara, I know this pains you deeply, but I am oathbound. I cannot tell you more, either about Ryan or about me.”

  I gave a shaky nod of understanding—even though I didn’t. “Now you’re even talking like a demon,” I said in a lame attempt to find a shred of humor.

  To my relief he grinned and slouched. “Sorry. Better?”

  I mustered a smile. “Much.” I glanced around. “How far are we from the car? Is it safe to go back?”

  “We’re a little over a half-mile away, and yes, it should be safe to go back. If you’d like I can run back and get the car and come get you.”

  “No!” I said quickly. “I’ll walk it.” Yeah, I was a cop, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t be completely freaked out and not want to be left alone.

  He seemed to understand. “Nice night for a walk at least.”

  We stayed silent for most of the way back, though my thoughts were hideously turbulent.

  “Does Ryan know?” I asked when the cars were in sight. “I mean, about you ...”

  “He is unaware,” Zack replied. The he stopped and turned to me, expression bleak and worried. “He is unaware of many things. It is for the best. You must trust me in this.” He paused. “Kara, you need to tell Lord Rhyzkahl of this incident the next time you summon him.”

  I scrubbed my hand over my face, suddenly feeling horribly defeated. I didn’t want to have to run to the demonic lord for help and protection. Not when it was most likely because of him that I needed it in the first place. But I also knew that not running to him would be unbearably stupid. “I can’t tonight. I’m exhausted.” And shaken and stressed. Attempting to open a portal in this state of mind and at this energy level would be colossally stupid and most likely deadly. “I’ll have to try tomorrow.”

  He began to nod then paused, brow furrowing in confusion. His gaze snapped up to the moon.

  “Gods above and below,” he whispered. “I am a blind fool. I knew you had summoned Skalz when the moon was but half full, yet I had assumed—” He bit off whatever he was going to say, then took a steadying breath as he shifted his gaze back to me. “But you’ve been summoning the demonic lord—no simple task, even with him amenable.” Worry darkened his eyes. “You’ve found a way to store potency. No wonder you’re a target.”

  Even though I’d already considered this, I still felt cold at hearing it from Zack. “It’s not perfect,” I said, feeling strangely defensive. “I mean, I couldn’t summon an unwilling demonic lord or anything.”

  For an instant Zack looked as if he wanted to debate the matter with me, but then he seemed to take note of how close I was to totally losing it. “Let’s get out of here,” he said with a gentle smile. “Go home and get some sleep. There’s nothing to be done now anyway.” He draped an arm companionably over my shoulder and guided me to the driver’s side door of my car.

  I scraped together a smile for him. “Right. Um, thanks. For ... everything.”

  Worry darkened his eyes, but he returned my smile and nodded. Then he turned and walked to his own car without another word.

  Chapter 20

  I stopped at the first Kwik-E Mart I saw. I was unsettled, freaked out, and still trying to process the mountain of shit that had just been dropped on me. I needed serious fortification for that.

  Two carloads of teenagers pulled into the parking lot as I entered the store. I grabbed potato chips and chocolate, then headed back to the freezer to get the last ingredient for my comfort party. A kid who couldn’t have been more than fifteen yanked open the door of the beer cooler and pulled out a six-pack, then froze as I gave him a black glare. His gaze flicked to my badge and gun, then he replaced the six-pack with a sheepish grin.

  “Whoops! Thought that was the Diet Coke,” he said, grin turning cheeky.

  “Next door down,” I said, doing my best to remain gruff.

  His eyes dropped to the stash of junk food in my arms. “Whoa, someone’s having a rough night.”

  I scowled as I retrieved a pint of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer. “You have no idea,” I grumbled as I headed to the counter. Oh, well. At least I wasn’t carrying donuts.

  * * *

  I lingered in the store until the kids left, even though I knew that if they really wanted to get booze they would. I’d managed to get my hands on plenty of contraband in my youth without too much trouble. But at least this one night would perhaps be alcohol-free for them.

  I sighed and pulled out of the parking lot. The morose turnings of my thoughts were about to enter a death spiral at this rate. Maybe Jill’s still awake? I glanced at the dashboard clock. Midnight. I sighed. Probably not. But I was right by her house. I could always check and see if any lights were on. And if there were, I had plenty of offerings in the bag beside me.

  Cheered slightly by the thought of being able to unload on someone, I slowed as I approached her house. A whisper of relief stole through me as I saw that a light was on upstairs, in her bedroom. Cool. I thought with a smile. I can bribe my way in with ice cream and . . .

  My smile faded as I suddenly took note of the car parked in the driveway next to her crime scene van. A dark Crown Victoria with public plates and an antenna farm on the back ...

  I accelerated past her house, thick knot suddenly making it hard to swallow or breathe. Stop it. Be happy for her, for them, I railed at myself without success. Ryan and Jill are your best friends.

  I tore open the chocolate and took a big bite, then forced myself to see reason. I was being unbearably stupid. Lots of cops had unmarked cars. It could be anyone. Hell, even Cory Crawford drove an unmarked Crown Vic.

  I almost snorted chocolate down the wrong tube at that thought, and in fact started coughing so hard I had to pull over. I managed to get the coughing under control, but by then I was laughing so hard at the image of Crawford and Jill together that tears ran down my face.

  And then all of the events
of the day flooded back in and I found myself crying for real. I clung to the steering wheel as if it was a lifeline, resting my forehead on it as I indulged in a few badly needed minutes of emotional release.

  I finally lifted my head and took a deep breath, then continued on home.

  But not before ripping the chips open.

  By the time I made it to my house I’d managed to consume the chocolate and the chips, and my funk had been replaced by a queasiness in my belly. I shoved the ice cream into my freezer, then headed down to my basement.

  I need to talk to Rhyzkahl, I told myself. It had nothing to do with a desperate need for comfort right now. Really.

  Crouching by the partially full storage diagram, I took several settling breaths, then attempted to draw potency into it. But attempt was the correct word, because I couldn’t draw anything. I was too unsettled and far too exhausted, and the power seemed to slip out of my control like an oiled eel.

  I continued to try to pull power for at least fifteen minutes, then finally gave up and collapsed in a sweating and shaking heap in the chair by the fireplace. And if I’d been attempting to open a portal, I’d be dead now, I thought as fear and nausea twined in my gut. Even if I’d had power at my disposal, it would have been stupid to try to perform a summoning.

  I crawled back upstairs, literally so for the last few steps, then stumbled to the bathroom and threw up the chocolate and chips. I knelt on the bathroom floor, head pounding as I fought the urge to cry. I’d done enough of that today.

  I’m safe here, I told myself as I stumbled to my bedroom. My house is warded and protected against living creatures and arcane power.

 

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