Mark of the Demon

by Diana Rowland

Tio scratched his stubbled chin as he considered. “Shit, I dunno. Mebbe down in the park.”

  “Does he ever take pictures of the people when they pose?”

  Tio nodded. “Yeah, that’s usually what he does. So is this the guy? This the killer?” He clenched his hands into fists. “Man, I will fuck his shit up next time I see him!”

  I reached out and took the picture from Tio’s hand. “No. He’s dead now. The Symbol Man got him too.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled out the page that I’d created with the pics of the unidentified people on it. The ones who I hoped were still alive. “How about these people? Do you know where I can find them?”

  Tio peered at the page, then motioned one of the other bystanders over. A skinny white male with poor-quality tattoos on his arms shuffled up. Tio showed the page to him.

  “I think I know some of these folk,” the second man said. “I mean, not personal, like, but just seen ’em out, y’know?”

  “I really need to find these people,” I said. “I think that they might be in danger from the Symbol Man.”

  Tio’s brows drew together. “Why he be goin’ after them?”

  “I can’t really say right now, but we’ve gotten some leads that might”—I stressed the word—“link all these people—the ones who’ve already been killed, and then these folk—together. I just need to find them.” I gave Tio an earnest look. “If they’re scared of the police, at least let them know to be careful. Tell them not to go anywhere with anyone they don’t know.”

  Tio was silent for several heartbeats and then nodded. “This one here’s AnnMarie,” he said, pointing to a picture of a white girl with a fleshy face and dark hair. “And this one’s Skeeter.” He indicated a picture of a rail-thin black man, then glanced around the crowd. “Anyone else know these folk?”

  I tried not to react, but my relief was damn near overwhelming. Some of the others began to make tentative identifications, and I scribbled names quickly, breathless. With Tio cooperating, the others were a thousand times more likely to contribute what they knew. There were no last names, but it was still a phenomenal improvement over the nothing that I’d had before.

  Tio looked up at me after I finished writing. “That gonna do ya?”

  I gave him a smile thick with gratitude. “It’s a terrific start. And if you can spread the word to anyone you know, that would be fantastic too.”

  He nodded once, serious. “I’ll take care of it, ladycop.”

  “All right, Tio. I appreciate it.” I handed him a stack of copies of the pictures, then gave him a handful of my business cards as well. “If anyone’s willing, I’d really like to talk to them. We need every break we can get on this case.”

  Tio tucked the cards and the pictures into a side pocket of his pants. “You got it, ladycop.”

  “Cool. Stay out of trouble, Tio, all right?”

  He winked and grinned. “Trouble finds me.”

  “Then run from it, ya big goof!”

  I SPENT THE NEXT FEW NIGHTS REPEATING THAT SAME scene over and over in equally seedy locations, with slightly different players and awfully similar conversations. I didn’t try to blend in, just worked on talking to the ones I knew, the regulars. This was where my rep as a fair cop paid off. I’d put a lot of these people in jail, but I’d never bum-rapped anyone. And because of that, I had people who were willing to talk to me—especially when I told them what I was after.

  At the very least, maybe I can make it too hot for this guy to get any more victims, I thought grimly as I headed home. It was only two a.m., but I knew that I needed to try to wrench my sleep cycle back to something more normal. I turned off the highway and onto the winding trace that was my driveway. I rounded the curve before my house, then slowed, a frisson of wariness going through me as I saw a car parked in front—a dark-blue Crown Victoria. Then the wariness was replaced by a curious mix of annoyance and pleasure as I recognized the car as Ryan’s. What the hell was he doing here again?

  Sleeping, I discovered as I got out of my car and walked up to his. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as I looked through the window at him. His head was tipped back against the headrest and his mouth had fallen open, and if not for the fact that I had heard him snoring when I was still six feet from the car, I probably would have thought him dead.

  The temptation to leave him out here was nearly overwhelming, but my curiosity as to why he was here won out. I tapped on his window with my keys.

  Nothing. He continued to sleep and snore.

  I banged harder, and this time he jerked awake, accidentally sounding the horn. He jumped and let out a blistering oath.

  “Jesus Christ, Kara! Where the hell have you been?”

  I was laughing so hard it took me several tries to answer. After a few deep breaths I managed to speak. “Out. Why are you sleeping in my driveway?”

  He groaned and opened the door, rubbing at his face as he got out. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I came here looking for you,” he said, glaring at me accusingly.

  I gave him a sour look in return. “I was out. Working. Why didn’t you call my cell?”

  A flicker of something that might have been embarrassment crossed his face as he stood and stretched his back. “I didn’t think to. I thought that maybe you’d just gone out for a few minutes, since it was after ten when I came by, so I figured I’d wait for you. And I guess I fell asleep.”

  “You know, you could have gone inside. The door you busted is only nailed shut with two nails.”

  He shook his head. “Nah, I think that would have been a bit forward. Stalking you from the driveway is plenty for now.”

  I laughed again. “Do you want some coffee? I can fill you in on what I’ve been doing.”

  He glanced at his watch. “If it’s decaf. I can probably still scrape together a couple of hours’ sleep after you brief me.”

  “Ha. I’ve just about given up on normal sleep,” I said as I led the way around the back of the house.

  I climbed the back steps, unlocked the door, and entered, then stopped dead two feet inside the kitchen, causing Ryan to nearly run into me. He began to speak, but I put out a hand, signaling him to be quiet. I could see down the hallway and a rectangle of light on the floor.

  The basement door was open and the light was on, and I knew that I had not left it so.

  I drew my gun, though I had a sick suspicion that if anything was down there it would not be affected by a firearm. I sensed as much as heard Ryan pulling his gun, following my lead and blessedly not asking any questions. I glanced back at him and pointed toward the hallway and the square of light. He nodded, holding his gun close to his body, at the ready.

  I stepped as soundlessly as possible down the hall, checking the rooms to either side as I went, hugging the wall to keep from hitting any of the creaky spots in the floor. My pulse sounded loud in my ears and I breathed shallowly, ears straining for any noise in the house, any clue that could define what I could be facing.

  Ryan knew what he was doing; he slid around and covered the areas I couldn’t see as I eased down the hall. I caught the whisper of movement down in the basement and moved to the top of the stairs, shielding myself by the doorjamb and peeking down, covering the stairs with my 9mm.

  A figure moved to the bottom of the stairs—something with blond hair and a wild print blouse. I jerked the gun back.

  “Damn it, Aunt Tessa! I almost shot you.” My heart pounded as much from the thought of almost shooting my aunt as from the relief that it wasn’t something worse down there.

  Tessa looked up and gave me an ingenuous smile as she climbed the stairs. “Now, why would you want to do something like that? Did you know your front door is broken?”

  I sighed and holstered my gun. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ryan doing the same. “Really? I hadn’t noticed. What are you doing here? I didn’t see your car.”

  “Oh, I bought a motorcycle yesterday,” she said breezily, as if it were
the most normal thing in the world. “It’s parked on the other side of the house. I came over to see how your summoning went.”

  I winced as Tessa reached the top of the stairs and saw Ryan. Well, now Ryan knows where I learned how to summon. Tessa gave Ryan a measuring look, then fixed me with a steely glare that I did my best to return. It was her own damn fault for assuming I was alone. Okay, so maybe it was an easy assumption, considering how rarely I had company, but I still wasn’t about to take any blame for the slip.

  I shoved my hair back from my face. “I already told you what happened in my summoning. Why did you buy a motorcycle?”

  “Because they’re cool.” Tessa frowned at Ryan, then shook her head and pointed a finger at me. “No, sweets, not your last summoning. I wanted to see how your next summoning went. But it seems that you haven’t summoned again.”

  “I’ve been busy. There’ve been two more murders. And when did you learn how to ride a motorcycle? Do you have a valid motorcycle endorsement on your license?”

  “Today, and, no, I don’t need to bother with that.” She turned to Ryan, smiling sweetly, ignoring my groan. “Hello, darlin’. I’m Tessa, Kara’s aunt. I saw you sleeping in the car when I came in, but you looked so peaceful that I just didn’t have it in me to wake you up.”

  Ryan didn’t miss a beat. He smiled graciously and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Pazhel. I’m Special Agent Ryan Kristoff with the FBI. I’m on the Symbol Man task force with your niece.”

  Tessa took Ryan’s hand, a small smile curving her mouth as she regarded him. “The pleasure is all mine. And how did you know my last name?”

  “I’m a big fan of thorough research.”

  I watched the interplay, arms folded across my chest. Why the hell had he checked my aunt out? Had he already known that she was a summoner? Well, he certainly did now.

  Tessa raised an eyebrow and released his hand, then turned back to me. “I know you’re ticked at me for prying, sweets, but I’ve been worried about you. I thought you might try to summon on the dark, and I hadn’t heard from you in a while. I’ve been out of town for the past few days, so I figured I’d check that everything was all right.”

  I abruptly realized I was scowling, but I didn’t make much effort to modify my expression. “I’ve been busy. Remember? Serial killer? I’ll summon again in about a week, on the full.” Then I straightened. “Wait, if he’s gearing up to something big, it’s going to have to be on this month’s full.”

  Ryan’s forehead creased in a frown. “Why? What happens after this month? I thought you just needed a full moon to have enough potency for big summonings.”

  Tessa shook her head. “The convergence of the two spheres is more important than the phase of the moon. We just came out of a period of a few years where the convergence was so small that it was darn near impossible to summon anything higher than eighth level. Right now the convergence is nearly as high as it can possibly be, but after this month it will start to taper off to more-normal levels.” She nodded her head toward me. “Kara would have been a full summoner some time ago if she hadn’t been forced to wait until the convergence was high enough to allow for a summoning of a twelfth-level demon.”

  I could see him mentally filing that information away. “So anyone seeking to summon anything of any decent size or power would do so on this next full moon—which means we have less than a week to catch him.”

  I moved to the kitchen and dropped into a chair at the table. “Right. That also means he’s going to be doing more murders between now and then, building up a strong reservoir of power.” I tapped the table thoughtfully. “But I’m hoping that it’s going to be harder for him to find victims. I spent the last few nights going around and showing the other photographs from Cerise’s house, trying to get the word to these people—and everyone else as well—to be careful.”

  Tessa’s brows drew together. “Cerise? Greg Cerise?”

  I nodded absently, then sat up straight. My aunt didn’t know about him yet. “Oh, shit, Aunt Tessa. I forgot that you knew him.”

  Tessa sat down slowly, eyes on me. “Knew? You’re speaking in past tense, sweets.”

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Aunt Tessa.” I hesitated, but there was no easy way to break this sort of news. “He’s dead. I’m so sorry.”

  Tessa looked down at the table. “What happened?” she asked, voice calm and even.

  “Symbol Man,” Ryan said quietly. “We think that Greg was somehow connected to him. We found pictures, photographs, and drawings of all the victims plus several others who we haven’t been able to identify yet.”

  Tessa pursed her lips, silent. I looked at her with a tinge of worry. I knew that my aunt had been close to Greg when they were younger, but had they still been close?

  “Greg wasn’t a summoner,” Tessa finally said.

  I flicked a quick glance to Ryan before looking back to my aunt. “Yes, I know. I went to talk to him a while back, asking about that comic—trying to find out more about Rhyzkahl. I really hadn’t thought there was any connection between Greg and the Symbol Man at that time. But then one of the other agents on the task force made the connection between Symbol Man victims and characters in Greg’s comic. We got a search warrant, and …” I sighed. “When we made entry, we found Greg dead and then found pictures of all the victims.”

  Her expression was bleak as she looked at me. “Do you think he helped kill those people?”

  “No,” I said with as much conviction as I could manage, knowing that there was a good chance I was lying to her. She probably knew it, too, but it was what she needed to hear right then.

  “Do you know of anyone who might be connected to Greg?” I asked. “Anyone he worked with or was close to?”

  Tessa spread her hands. “I hadn’t seen him in well over twenty years,” she said, voice colored with regret. “So someone is killing the people Greg drew? Why?”

  “Greg tended to use people who were homeless or drug addicts as his models,” I said.

  “People who weren’t quickly missed,” Ryan added.

  I glanced at him and nodded. “This killer needs a lot of victims. I figure he’s attempting to perform a major summoning and that’s why he’s gathering so much energy.”

  “Yes,” Tessa said with a nod. “You’ve been thinking that for a while now.”

  I took a deep breath. “But now I think it’s Rhyzkahl that he’s trying to summon. And not just summon but bind as a slave.”

  Tessa’s expression sharpened. “And what makes you think that? That’s one hell of an ambitious summoning, and one fraught with considerable danger. Binding an unwilling Demonic Lord? Especially Rhyzkahl? That’s insane!”

  I hesitated. Ryan didn’t know about the dream visits. For that matter, neither did Tessa.

  “Er, well,” I said, trying not to squirm, “I kinda got that impression after I … uh, last spoke to Rhyzkahl.”

  Tessa didn’t twitch a muscle, but Ryan shifted, clearly startled.

  Tessa’s voice was like ice. “If you called him to you—”

  “I didn’t! I swear!” I said quickly. “No, it was another dream-sending.”

  “Another what?” My aunt stared at me, and I realized that I’d only thought her tone was icy before.

  Oops.

  I tried to force a smile onto my face. “Oh. Um, yeah. Forgot to tell you about that.” I gave a quick—and very watered-down—version of his visit to my bedroom and then briefly explained about the nap on the couch and asking Rhyzkahl about the runes. “And then he got mad.” I shivered at the memory. “I mean, it was like waves of unspeakable menace and fury just rolling off him, mingled with rage and vengeance and anything else horrible you can think of.”

  “That’s the nightmare I woke you up from,” Ryan said. “Isn’t it?”

  I nodded.

  Tessa slowly shook her head. “Coming to your dreams? You should have told me.”

  “I know,” I said, shifting uncomforta
bly. “There’s just been so much going on. I was working up to it.”

  She gave me a dark look. “Well, that was his true power that you felt, sweets. He is self-serving and powerful and not to be trifled with. And even if this killer really is trying to summon a lord, I can’t imagine anyone being insane enough to try to bind Rhyzkahl. He’s one of the most ancient of the lot. There are several other lords who would be far less risky to call, though perhaps not as powerful.” She rubbed at her face. “But any Demonic Lord would still be more than enough potency for a summoner to use.”

  I folded my arms over my chest and looked across the table at my aunt. “Greg told me about how you two saw Rhyzkahl.”

  A flash of annoyance tinged with what might have been embarrassment crossed her face. “Greg shouldn’t have told you that. We swore each other to secrecy.”

  “Aunt Tessa,” I said with heat, “I needed to know that! Were you ever going to tell me? Don’t you think it’s important that there was once a major incursion in this area by one of the Demonic Lords?”

  Tessa rolled her eyes. “All right, I suppose it is important, but he still shouldn’t have told you. It’s not exactly a pleasant memory.” Her lips twitched. “I was working up to it.”

  I glared at her. “Just because you’re my aunt doesn’t mean I can’t call you a smart-ass.”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “Ladies, it doesn’t matter how the information was disseminated. What matters is what we know now. This Demonic Lord may be summoned soon and, if that happens, all hell will break loose.”

  Tessa waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, no, we won’t have all of hell here. And, really, there’s no such thing as ‘hell’ like you’re thinking. But surely an incursion by a lord will be nasty, especially if he’s bound by an unscrupulous sort, which I’m thinking the Symbol Man is.”

  “To put it mildly,” I said dryly.

  “Just how nasty are we talking here?” Ryan asked. “I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but being a summoner doesn’t seem to convey unlimited power or anything. Why is this killer going to all of this trouble?”