Demons Not Included: A Night Tracker Novel (Night Tracker Novels)

by Cheyenne McCray

  At the entrance to the Pit, Fred winked at me, and I forced a smile. “Hi, Fred,” I managed, but couldn’t begin to come up with something like our usual back-and-forth banter. He wouldn’t know about Jon yet, and I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’d let Rodán inform his staff and everyone else he needed to.

  Just that thought alone made my heart and my gut sink lower.

  Fred’s expression changed to one of puzzlement, like he could tell something was wrong. He let my unwanted companion follow me, but I heard Fred give a low growl as T walked by him.

  The odor of smoke and alcohol made me want to gag this time, even though it was a lot lighter than it had been earlier in the night. A lot of paranorms had gone to ground or to bed—wherever they went when the sun came up.

  Bile tried to crawl up my throat but I forced it down. As much as I tried. I would never forget what had happened tonight. And what had been left of Jon.

  I led the way, weaving in and out between the remaining patrons. Rock music pounded in the nightclub for those who were still up. The pain that had begun behind my temples started pounding just as hard as the beat of the music.

  T and I came up to a group of my fellow Trackers, all of whom had probably just gotten in from work. I met gazes that were filled with sadness and regret for Jon.

  Not seeing him there made my heart hurt.

  Of course they all would have felt Jon’s essence move on to Summerland.

  “You found Jon?” Randy asked me as I paused by the table they were sitting around. It hadn’t really been a question.

  “Yeah.” I met Randy’s yellow eyes. “It was—it was bad.” I looked away and tried to put aside the horrific images. Talking about Jon to the people we worked with made the pictures in my mind worse.

  Everyone was staring at me when I looked back at them. “Six underling Demons.” I swallowed. “I didn’t sense the attack until it was too late.”

  Randy gave a frustrated huff. “I was all the way on the opposite end of Central Park by the time I felt Jon’s life essence departing. I couldn’t leave because I was battling four Demons at the same time as his death.”

  “The Demons finding Jon wasn’t a coincidence,”

  Kelly said quietly. “Catching him off guard like that would have been impossible.”

  “You’re right,” Carlos said. “No way in hell could those six Demons have downed him the way they did. Without some serious help.”

  “Why hadn’t he transformed?” I said as the thought occurred to me. “He was a Shifter. He could have become a mouse. A cockroach even.”

  The other Trackers frowned and Nadia said, “What if something made it so that he couldn’t”

  “It’s possible . . .” Hades, who was a Shifter like Jon had been, leaned back in his seat as he gripped his beer bottle. “Shifters don’t let on because we’re not about to let it be used against us.”

  “What is it?” Nancy asked.

  Hades gave her a pointed look. “You think I’m going to tell a Pixie?”

  Nancy glared at him, crossed her arms, and raised her chin.

  “No kidding.” Meryl, one of the four Shifters on our team, looked at Hades. “You shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

  I wanted to shake Meryl so hard her teeth rattled, and kick Hades’s ass. How could they hold back information when our friend and fellow Tracker had just been murdered?

  It was hard not to let Meryl or Hades have it with the sharpness of my tongue, but I said to Hades, “Does Rodán know about this Shifter weakness?”

  “Rodán knows fucking everything.” Ice spoke in a dry tone as he drew on a thinly rolled joint that smelled like the same pipe-weed the Shadow Shifters were smoking earlier. “At least he thinks he does.”

  “Does he know you’re a weed head?” Nancy snapped at him. “Trackers are supposed to stay away from that kind of thing.”

  Ice shrugged. “I’m not kissing his Elvin ass.”

  I thought I heard the sound of everyone sucking in their breath. To insult Rodán was almost as bad as my irreverence for the GG.

  Which also meant I didn’t care about Ice’s opinion of Rodán. I cared more about finding out how to keep any more Trackers from being murdered. And about why we non-Shifters hadn’t been informed of the fact that something could keep Shifters from taking an animal form of their choice.

  “I don’t need this crap right now,” I said in a barely even tone. “I need to talk with Rodán.”

  My back was to the other Trackers before any of them had a chance to respond.

  T and I headed directly toward Rodán’s “dungeon.” The entrance was hidden behind a wall of gray fog that only the privileged few could see. Goody for me that I was one of those few.

  Some of the other Trackers didn’t like that I was the only Tracker who could enter Rodán’s “inner sanctum.” It had been explained that I was also a PI who had to report to him repeatedly. I knew that it was because he was not only my mentor, but a friend and, until recently, one of his many lovers.

  T and I walked easily through the fog, which smelled of rain and moist earth. Anyone not welcome to Rodán’s dungeon would slam into a solid wall. He had no need for guards. His magic was strong enough to obliterate anyone who tried to enter.

  After passing through the fog, we walked down the long hallway. “How do you know Rodán?” I asked as T strode beside me down a passageway that was lit by torches in brackets mounted on the stone walls.

  T looked down at me, and in the flickering light the scars on his face made him look almost menacing. “Through a mutual acquaintance,” T said, his voice a deep rumble.

  I almost asked who, but I had a gut feeling that what he’d said was all I was going to get out of him.

  For now.

  We reached an arched black doorway that reminded me of a dungeon from medieval times. Rodán even had torches to either side of the doorway. He was all about appearances and making a splash.

  That was when he wasn’t busy serving as Proctor. At those times he was all business.

  T placed his palm against an oblong pad on the wall to the right of the door. Like a human mood ring, the pad sifted through various colors beneath T’s palm. It stopped at a swirling gray that was the same shade as T’s eyes.

  He moved aside and the oval went black. Then I touched the spongy pad and my palm itched.

  Colors blended beneath my hand until the pad stilled at sapphire blue as it always did, matching my eyes. As usual it gave a brief burst of white light at the center— I’m sure Rodán’s idea of amusement, to copy the danger that flashed in my eyes when I was angry.

  I stepped back and rubbed my tingling palm on my leather pants as the pad went black again.

  The door to Rodán’s dungeon opened without the slightest sound. Immediately, scents of woodland and firethorn tickled my nose, and heated air flowed over me, causing perspiration to coat my skin.

  T and I stepped inside the candlelit room. Rodán was waiting for us.

  Even though Rodán wore a loose forest-green tunic and breeches, it was obvious every muscle in his body-was toned and sculpted. From his carved biceps to his well-defined abs, on down to his muscled thighs and calves, and everything in between, he was perfection. I knew that body very well.

  Pointed ears peeked through his long white-blond hair, the shade contrasting against his golden skin as his hair fell straight over his broad shoulders. He moved toward us with the litheness of the Light Elves, and I met his crystal-green eyes.

  “Nyx.” He held out his arms and brought me into his embrace before giving me a soft kiss. Not a lover’s kiss, but a caring friend’s kiss.

  I kissed him back before I turned my head and walked across the room to stare blankly at one of his displays. It contained items from Otherworld like Faerie cones, a crystal container of Pixie dust, and even a Siren’s prized golden seashell.

  Rodán’s sigh was audible behind me before Torin said, “Your cat has sharp claws.”

&nbs
p; I whirled to face Torin, almost snarled, and nearly showed him what real claws were. The ones on my dagger would gut him nicely. I don’t know why I was so angry with him—yes, yes, I did. He’d been an arrogant bastard from the moment I’d met him.

  “Come.” Rodán stepped between us and indicated that we should follow him through the expanse of his warm “entertaining chamber” to his office. Most of the time he would have any number of females and/or males in the huge expanse of his bed, which was made from finely carved Dryad wood.

  My hip brushed a spanking bench. Rodán was into all kinds of sexual play, including bondage and domination, and he had a whole lot of the toys to prove it.

  That was one kind of sex I’d refused to allow Rodán to indulge in with me. I wouldn’t get into BDSM when I lived in the Drow Realm, and I wasn’t about to start with Rodán.

  Rodán took my hand and we walked toward a fog-shrouded wall that led toward his den. We stepped through and into the chilly air on the landing at the top of a flight of stairs. The perspiration on my skin dried, and I shivered as I dragged in a cool breath of air before we walked down stone steps to his den.

  Behind us T’s boot steps clunked hard on the stone as the stairs curved to the entrance to Rodán’s den. Well, whatever T was, he certainly wasn’t some distant relation to Fae or Elves. Not that I’d even considered that notion. His race was noisy as a troll pounding its club against a rock wall.

  Rodán’s den was much smaller than his entertaining chamber, and smelled of earth and wisteria. I took my hand from Rodán’s and placed my fingers on a cool earthen wall, then touched one of the purple-leaved plants crawling over the earth along with patches of moss.

  It was in the moments I was in this room that a bit of homesickness always clenched inside me. It reminded me of the underground realm of the Dark Elves, my home.

  My other home.

  Rodán’s desk was huge and spotless. No sticky notes there. Maybe he had sticky notes in his brain.

  He forgot nothing. I slipped into one of the chairs in front of the desk, as did T. For a moment I lowered my head, thinking about Jon as he’d been earlier this same night, before he’d been slaughtered.

  Seeing what the Demons had done to other paranorms had been beyond sickening. But a fellow Tracker seemed worse. It brought everything closer to home and made me realize how vulnerable we all were. We weren’t invincible, as I’d let myself believe.

  I raised my head and pushed my blue hair out of my eyes with both hands so that it fell straight past my shoulders again.

  When he looked at me, Rodán’s expression and tone were gentle. “We have a lot to discuss.”

  It was easier to stare Rodán down and be angry at T and his arrogance than to think about Jon.

  “Discuss? Like who in the Underworlds he is?” I said as I looked at T. “Or maybe what it is?”

  T narrowed his brows and scowled.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Torin is here to help fight these Demons, Nyx,” Rodán said, and I turned back to him.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  Rodán leaned back in his chair. “Torin came highly recommended by the Proctor who serves Staten Island and the other nearby islands.”

  My brows narrowed. “Krishna sent this thing to help?”

  He nodded.

  I heard a low growl coming from T. Okay, so I was being cranky. I think I had the right to be. “And she didn’t tell you what it is?” Another growl.

  “Our problem is too serious for this topic.” Rodán looked at T before his gaze rested on me. “The three of us have a lot to discuss.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything about this mystery man-thing next to me that even Rodán didn’t seem to know a lot about.

  “The pair of you will work together on this.” Rodán studied me intently. Before I could interrupt, he continued, “As I informed you this morning, the Great Guardian believes beings other than these underling Demons entered when they murdered the Gatekeeper of the Ruhin Demon Gate.

  “At the very least two or three major Demons.” Rodán paused and let his words sink in. “And most likely a master Demon as well.”

  My skin chilled and I rubbed my hands on my bare arms. “This morning you did say these are underling Demons we’ve been fighting, but you didn’t mention that major and master Demons made it through the gate, too.”

  “I needed to speak with the Guardian again.”

  Rodán tapped his index finger on his desk as he continued. “That’s why these underling Demons were able to come through so fast, the moment the Gatekeeper, Mary, was killed, before Megan could replace her.”

  “That makes sense.” The replacement should have been instantaneous, with no time for any being to cross the threshold of the Demon gate. “I suppose,”

  Rodán sighed. “At least one Demon with powerful magic had to have transported them through after orchestrating a plan to kill one of our most powerful Peacekeepers.” He made a frustrated sound. “Whatever it is or they are, the Demons have proven to be extremely dangerous.”

  If I was in the mood to be sarcastic, I’d have said something like “duh.” Of course it would have been stronger in the language of the Drow, despite the fact that Rodán would understand every word.

  “That is one reason why Torin will be working your territory with you,” Rodán said.

  I gripped the armrests of my chair and bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to keep from arguing more. I knew it wouldn’t do a Goddess-blessed thing if I did.

  “We,” Rodán continued, “meaning the Great Guardian and I, believe the Demons’ lair is in your section of the city.”

  I frowned. “What makes you think that?”

  “The majority of the Demon populace spreads from your territory to the others,” Rodán said.

  I churned that piece of information over in my mind before I spoke. “That’s why I usually see so much more action than any one other Tracker.” The injuries that I thought had healed hurt my head and back as I tensed while Rodán’s words sank in. “But that doesn’t make total sense, because I should have been the first attacked instead of Jon.”

  “I think they sense what a danger you, in particular, are to them,” he said.

  “Me?” My brows narrowed and I knew the look on my face was one of disbelief. “Every single Tracker is equally powerful. We just have different skills.”

  “We believe it’s your skills that will do the most harm to the Demons.” Rodán gestured to T. “That’s why you now have additional backup.”

  I clenched the arms of my chair. “Which skills?”

  “Your power over the elements,” Rodán said.

  “That—that doesn’t make sense.” I gestured above us, like I was pointing to the other Trackers.

  “Their skills are equally effective.”

  “Yes, they have the ability to handle multiple beings,” Rodán said. “Jon should have been able to kill six of the Demons. But he didn’t. No one has faced as many as he did. And you were the one who survived.”

  “Jon probably wore them down,” I said, although I hadn’t seen any sign of a fight or other Demon remains.

  “Face it, Princess,” T said in a low, lazy drawl. “You’re going to be graced with my presence for a while.”

  When I’m ticked I can be a real smartass, but before I could make some kind of remark to T, Rodán said, “Your mission is to find the Demon lair. That’s why I need Torin to work with you.” By Rodán’s expression and the very air of command that was around him, I knew I was stuck with this T guy. I was facing a battle I wouldn’t win. For now.

  “What do you think this Demon is trying to accomplish?” I said as I thought about the assignment.

  Rodán’s expression was hard to gauge. “We’re not positive because we don’t know what master Demon escaped through the gate.”

  “Aren’t there records or something that each Gatekeeper holds onto?” I said. “Shouldn’t we have co
pies of those records?”

  “We should.” Rodán gave a slow nod. “But we don’t.”

  “Nothing?” I knew incredulity flashed in my gaze. “How is that possible?”

  “Gatekeepers have been tending the Demon gates for centuries upon centuries,” Rodán said. “In some cases, either records were not adequately kept or were lost before they were copied for our archives. This is one of those cases.”

  This Demon control was all going smooth as silk. Not. “What’s the next step?”

  Rodán’s green eyes darkened. “We have a new ‘problem’ that may or may not be related.”

  The Dryad’s wood was smooth beneath my hands as I grasped the armrests and leaned forward in my chair. “What’s happened?”

  “A human law enforcement officer’s family has been murdered by a Demon. The police officer is missing, and he was a liaison.”

  “A human liaison to the paranorm?” A chill went through me and I immediately thought of Adam Boyd. But Adam had no family so I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt a tremendous concern and ache for the missing liaison and his murdered family members. “How do we know the officer was taken, and not eaten or shredded?”

  “We don’t. That’s what we have to find out,” Rodán said. “Since the officer was one of our liaisons I need you and Olivia. You’re the best we have.”

  That was the truth—we were the best. He wasn’t just sweet-talking me. “Olivia and I will handle it.”

  “And Torin,” Rodán said. “You’ll make him part of your daytime firm, too.”

  “Goddess, please stop doing this to me, Rod&n.” I glanced at the stony-faced male next to me before looking at my mentor again. “Nighttime is bad enough. Olivia and I have a hundred percent record of solving cases. Without any other paranorm.”

  “A Soothsayer froze and put a glamour on the crime scene thirty minutes ago.” Rodán obviously wasn’t going to budge as he ignored my comment. Freezing and using a glamour with a crime scene was standard procedure when paranormal activity was involved. “Get there as soon as the sun rises, once you transform.”

  He gave me the address, which was close to 109th Street and Madison.