Hot Demon in the City (Latter Day Demons Book 1)

by Suttle, Connie

  I blinked at Mike twice before hunching my shoulders and heading toward my cubicle to take the call.

  "Line three," the PA called out.

  "Ms. Britt?" I answered the phone. "This is Lexsi Silver. How can I help you?"

  "I found them on my camera footage," Gerta crowed. "The night I saw them leave."

  "The last time you saw the Ravens?" I asked.

  "Yes. I didn't think my security camera was pointed in that direction, but I caught Donna getting into the car after Abe backed out of the garage."

  "So you only saw Donna. Not Abe."

  "No, I saw both of them, but the camera only recorded Donna."

  "I see," I said. "Is it possible to get a copy of the recording?"

  "I don't know how to do that," Gerta said. "All this electronic stuff just goes right past me. Can you come back to the house and take a look?"

  "Let me check my schedule for this afternoon, Ms. Britt. Hold, please."

  It took two minutes to find Mike and attempt to tell him what Gerta found. "Check on it," he waved a hand. He was busy sorting through photographs in the e-mail sent by Marine Animal Sanctuary.

  That meant I had to find a ride, or drive myself in my TinyCar.

  After considering the bad mood Kory was in, I opted for the TinyCar.

  * * *

  "You have mud and sand on your heels," Kory pointed out as I walked past him in the parking garage to get to my TinyCar.

  "Damn." I lifted a foot to look.

  He was right.

  "I have a pair of athletic shoes in the car," I mumbled. "I'll change."

  "Which one's yours?" he asked as I started walking again.

  "The blue TinyCar," I muttered without turning.

  "A TinyCar?" His laugh grated on my nerves.

  "Yeah. It belongs to my aunt," I said and kept walking.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  A TinyCar. I didn't consider them cars. They were glorified skateboards in my opinion. She said it belonged to her aunt. As far as I knew, she only had one aunt—her father's half-sister—and that one had never visited this planet.

  Didn't make any sense to me.

  "Hey, where are you going?" I trotted after her. She was climbing into the TinyCar when I caught up with her.

  "Back to Gerta Britt's," she said. "Claims she found the Ravens on her security camera recording. Has no idea how to transfer the images, so I'm off to take a look."

  "Are you sure that's safe?" I asked.

  "Gerta Britt isn't dangerous," she said, her blue eyes raking over me, haggard face and all.

  "I meant in this thing that isn't a car," I said, suddenly defensive. "A stiff breeze will blow you to Chicago."

  "Awesome. I've never been to Chicago." She started the car and put it in gear.

  "I can drive you," I offered.

  Wait. What kind of difik was I? I hated her.

  "Get in your excessively large car, Kory Wilson, and take a nap. I think you need it," she snapped and drove away.

  I cursed as she drove away—not only had she pissed me off—she was right.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  Gerta was right—electronics went right past her. I had to search the recorder for the images again—she'd managed to lose them. After nearly half an hour of her leaning over my shoulder while I watched a small monitor in a closet devoted to her security system, I found the images she'd reported.

  "See, that's Donna getting in the car. Normally she'd get in while it was parked in the garage. Maybe she forgot something."

  Donna was dressed in a gown and diamonds, I could see that. Gerta had a decent security camera, at least. Donna's evening dress had a bolero jacket dripping in glittery fringe and her hair was swept up in an impressive French pleat, with a comb that matched the glittery fringe.

  A lot of money had been spent on that dress—it had designer exclusive written all over it.

  Before I left Gerta's house, I had a copy of the images on a flash drive to take back to the station. Wherever the Ravens had gone that night, I'd bet it wasn't just to dinner.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  Things had changed when I got home from work; Watson was asleep, the vampire wide awake.

  I was surprised Watson trusted the vamp well enough to take a nap on the sofa.

  "Name's Mason," he extended his hand. "Thanks for last night. The wolf says you changed into something, but he wasn't sure what it was. Doesn't matter—you saved my ass."

  "I only saved it last night," I said, hanging my jacket on the hall tree and studying the vamp who occupied the easy chair in my living room. "You still have to worry about those vamps who wanted to kill you."

  "Yeah." He wallowed in gloom and self-pity for a moment. "I was only trying to get her away—she was scared. I can't blame her—Granger tends to murder what he has no use for."

  "Granger?"

  "Old." Mason shrugged. "Has a bunch of local vamps under his thumb. Figure the law would like to ask him a few questions about missing people."

  "You—you were a cop, I'm guessing. Before you developed a taste for blood."

  "Good guess," Mason rose and stretched. "Only on the job five years when I got shot in Sacramento. Somebody took pity on me and made the turn."

  "Is that what convinced Watson to fall asleep in your presence?"

  "Yeah. He remembers the huge flap in Sacramento six years ago when a cop disappeared. Haven't been seen, since," he shrugged.

  "You mean Granger didn't bother to place compulsion?" That surprised me.

  "Hmmph."

  I held back from asking the next question that tickled my brain. It could get both of us in trouble.

  "Did it take all five of those vamps to bring you down?" I asked instead.

  "Six. One of 'em didn't get back up after I put him down. I hear you took out the rest."

  "We won't discuss that," I held up a hand.

  "Sounds fine. Wish I could ask for a beer, but it wouldn't do any good. I have bagged blood in the fridge at my place. Better get goin'."

  "I think you ought to stay here—at least for now," I said.

  "I need to eat," he said. Simple. Direct.

  "Great. There's a bar around the corner. Want to satisfy both cravings at once?"

  "I don't bite women," he growled. "I hate biting guys."

  "Transvestites, then?"

  "You know—that almost made me laugh. Come on, we'll find somebody who's had a bath and didn't drown in cologne afterward."

  I understood something as I followed Mason out the door—I figured he'd been in his twenties when he joined the Sacramento Police Department. Five years as a cop, followed by six as a vamp had given him wisdom beyond his age.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  "Hey, want to get a drink after work?"

  Anita called me first—I figured I'd have to call her if I wanted to make friends.

  "That sounds great," I said. "I just have to get this flash drive downloaded for Vann and I'm done for today," I said. "Where?"

  "I'm headed in your direction," she said. "There's a place off 101 in Sausalito that serves food, so we can eat and drink."

  "Sounds really good, I'm starved," I admitted. She gave me the name and address and said she'd be there in half an hour. I was grateful for her invitation the moment Vann stuck his head inside my cubicle to ask me if I were free for dinner.

  * * *

  "Canada," Anita shrugged when I asked her where she was from. "I have citizenship here, now. Applied right after I got my degree from UCLA."

  "What the heck are you doing working in HR, then?" I asked.

  "I don't know if you've noticed, but there aren't a lot of people of color—black or otherwise—working for Rome Enterprises. No offense," she held up a hand.

  "None taken, and yes, I have noticed."

  "So," she toyed with the saltshaker for a moment, as if she were deciding whether she could trust me or not, "I went to work in a low-level j
ob so I can write an article on Rome's hiring practices. If I'm lucky, I can sell it to a New York newspaper or magazine."

  "Sounds good to me," I said. "Can you include womanizing bosses in your article?"

  "Vann giving you problems already?"

  "He's asked me out twice, and I've only been on the job two days."

  "Yeah—his last assistant of the female persuasion got engaged and married in self-defense, I think."

  "How long have you worked for Rome Enterprises?"

  "Nearly a year. You should see the stuff I have on my computer," she laughed.

  "Aren't you worried that you'll be found out?"

  "No—I sort of want them to fire me," she said.

  "Well, that could cut into our budding friendship," I said. "Have you gotten any directives from someone above you—to only hire certain people?"

  "No, but that doesn't mean it can't happen. Besides, look at me. You think they'd tell me to do that?"

  "Well, no," I admitted. I knew little about discrimination on Earth; the Reth and Campiaan Alliances were naturally integrated, as each had more than five hundred member planets. I also wondered why Rome Enterprises hadn't been called to account for its hiring practices already.

  "It wasn't always like this," Anita said, dropping her eyes for a moment. "I've done research. It all started when Rome Senior died and Jayson Rome and his mother sold their interests in the company to the oldest son and his wife."

  "So the current owners are the reason?"

  "I think so. I just need some undeniable proof that they're directly involved in the hiring process."

  "That's sort of scary—to think they're watching over every decision," I frowned. "I thought they gave underlings some sort of autonomy."

  "I heard Laurel fired somebody just because she didn't like the way they looked," Anita whispered. "I got wind of that while I was still at UCLA."

  "Have you talked to that person? Do you know who it was?"

  "I'm still working on that."

  My gran always said that if you couldn't prove something, it didn't happen. Anita might have a strong basis for her article, but she was right—she didn't have sufficient proof. I could tell which of her words were truth and which were uncertain—she'd only heard rumors about Laurel Rome firing somebody. I felt she was on the fence about her article, too, but didn't want to dig too deeply into that mystery.

  "I think you should tread carefully, and hand somebody a backup of all your information," I suggested instead. "Or put it in a safe place so someone you trust can find it. Just in case."

  "I sent it already," she said. "To my cousin in LA. She works in a law office."

  "Good. Here comes the waiter—what are we going to eat?" I opened my menu to read the selections.

  * * *

  Anita's car was parked two down from mine in the minuscule parking lot surrounding the restaurant. At least she'd turned to workplace gossip after dropping her initial bomb on me.

  Yes, the attack took me by surprise. I promised myself I'd never let that happen again.

  They were after Anita, that much was certain, but in their eyes, I presented little problem. Three of them came for us, with knives. I felt like giggling hysterically as something my gran always said ran through my mind.

  You don't bring a gun to a vampire fight.

  I'd been trained to protect myself at a very early age.

  No, I wasn't vampire. I could hold my own against these, though. The first man who rushed me learned quickly; I had his knife in my hand and thumped him on the back of the neck with the thick handle, dropping him to the pavement in two blinks.

  Anita faced the other two, who were poised to lunge at her.

  I discovered she wasn't human, either.

  She changed. Her clothing, torn to shreds with the transformation, puddled about her feet.

  Something amphibious hissed at both men, who'd taken a step backward.

  Don't kill them, I sent hasty mindspeech, hoping she'd hear me. We didn't need human spaghetti left on the pavement surrounding a popular nightspot—somebody was bound to notice.

  My worries were alleviated the moment both men turned and ran.

  "Get up," Anita's alter ego jerked the third man off the ground; he was beginning to wake from the blow I'd delivered. "Tell your boss," she swung him around and locked eyes with his as the power in her voice dripped from scaly lips, "Tell your boss," she repeated, "that he should think twice before sending someone after me again. Now get the hell away from us, and never bother us again."

  Anita and I watched him run as fast as he could down a dark street.

  "Fuck," Anita snapped, toeing the ripped clothes at her feet. "I really liked that dress."

  * * *

  "This is all I have." I shoved clothes through the bathroom door. Anita had ridden home with me in my TinyCar, her other self barely fitting onto the passenger seat. Her neck may have had a crick in it by the time I pulled into my garage.

  She'd waited until I showed her the nearest bathroom to change back to her human-looking self. The only things I found in my closet that might fit her were sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  "These will do," she said and shut the door. I shuffled into the kitchen, attempting to decide whether I wanted wine or tea.

  I opted for tea.

  "So, I guess you have questions," she said, sliding onto a barstool at the kitchen island and accepting a cup of hot water with a tea bag.

  "Probably less than you think," I said, sipping Earl Grey from my cup. "The things I want to ask most are—what the hell are you doing here, and have you bitten any seals, lately?"

  * * *

  "See," I showed Anita what I'd gotten from Vann—he'd copied Mike and me on the images sent by Marine Animal Sanctuary. One of them showed the bite marks clearly.

  "Biting seals sounds repugnant," Anita huffed. "Plus, I hate cold water. Whoever did that," she tapped my computer screen, "has to be nuts."

  "But you think it's one of your race?" I turned off the computer.

  "It could be," Anita shrugged. "I still can't believe you're okay with all this."

  "I'm not okay with three men coming after you with knives in the parking lot," I retorted. "Why would they do that?"

  "No idea," she shrugged.

  "Lie," I said.

  "Fuck. Please tell me you're not one of those lie detectors."

  "I won't tell you, but it won't change the truth of it."

  "If you were human, you'd have run away screaming when you saw me change," Anita pointed a finger in my direction. "So, what are you? Shapeshifter? I hear some of those can move fast enough to snatch a knife away like that."

  "Stop digging," I held up a hand. "Drink your tea. We have to decide whether it's safe for you to go home."

  "I'm going home," she said, her voice flat. "You don't need those assholes showing up outside your house."

  "You don't need them showing up at your place, either," I snapped.

  "Look—if they knew where I lived, they'd have waited until I got home to attack, instead of following me to a restaurant. Besides, the address on file at work is a decoy. It's an empty building."

  "Well, aren't you Miss Ingenuous," I said.

  "I knew the minute I saw you that we'd be friends. Come on, I need to go home. You have to drive me back to the restaurant so I can get my car."

  "Right. At least you'll fit in my car this time. Without getting a crick in your neck."

  "At least I have sweats at home that actually fit. People with tiny butts should be outlawed."

  "I don't have a tiny butt."

  "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

  "Lie."

  Anita laughed.

  * * *

  I should have known better. Really.

  I learned two lessons that night—to always keep my guard up and to leave the car in the parking lot until daylight.

  This time, six tried to jump us in an otherwise empty lot. It was a tougher fight this time, and I wa
s blindsided by one man while fighting off two of his partners. My left eye started swelling immediately after he punched me. I returned the favor by knocking him into Anita's car.

  Left a dent in it, too.

  I thought Anita was going to shred the three she fought—one had an arm half torn off before he turned tail to run. When the other two got a good look at her teeth, they took off, too.

  My three—well, they lay scattered across the pavement, in various stages of unconsciousness.

  "I say we call the police," I said.

  "I don't want to."

  "We're gonna," I pulled my cell from a pocket of my jeans and dialed 9-1-1.

  An hour later, we watched as three attackers were loaded into a cruiser while a concerned officer offered to take us to a hospital. My black eye by that time had almost swollen shut.

  "I have ice at home," I waved him off. I really didn't want anybody drawing my blood in any emergency room—they might find a few things they didn't expect and I wasn't in the mood to make explanations or hasty exits.

  "Any idea why they attacked you?"

  "None," Anita shook her head. She was wrapped in a blanket supplied by the police—she'd lied once already, telling the officer that our attackers had ripped her clothing off.

  "I figure it was attempted rape, but we'll get back to that after we question them downtown. I'm sure they're trying to remember their lawyer's phone number about now. It's a good thing you've had a self-defense course," he nodded at me.

  It was another partial lie—I'd been trained to protect myself most of my life. One self-defense course wouldn't cover what I could do. I considered buying a knife to hide in a boot or a thigh sheath—that would be the first thing my mother would have done.

  "I'll have someone escort both of you home," the officer said.

  Fine with me. I had to get up in four hours and go to work.

  Chapter 3

  Kordevik

  "What the hell happened to you?" I demanded. Lexsi ignored me as she climbed into the van the following morning. Mike had another appointment with the Marine Animal Sanctuary people, in their downtown San Francisco office.

  Lexsi looked as if she'd come out the loser in a bar fight. Her left eye was swelled shut and turning a deep shade of purple—even Watson's hadn't been that bad. Mike should have sent her home first thing—instead, she was chasing after his ass.