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

by Suttle, Connie

  "We found the remains of your work cell phone at Ms. Grant's apartment after the residence was destroyed," Davis turned to me. "We know you didn't plant the bomb," he added. "You and Anita Grant are lucky to be alive."

  "Then why are you here?" Kory demanded.

  "Because we're investigating Granger—and several other unsavory characters," Thomas declared. "Davis is my boss, and he asked me to help get those two away from the hospital. Unfortunately, Brad Logan witnessed the rescue, so he was also taken. They're all safe," he added.

  "Thank goodness," I covered my face with both hands, which were now trembling.

  "I need to order something for her," Kory announced. I realized he was talking about me and dropped my hands. "She hasn't eaten," he explained.

  My stomach gurgled a response, which caused my face to warm.

  "What we want," Davis said after the waitress took our order, "is to figure out what, exactly, is going on and who is involved. Frankly, this whole thing stinks, but we don't understand why. We think the Romes are involved, too, but again, no reason has appeared. What are they into? We have no idea."

  Davis and Thomas knew as little as I did about what was going on. They knew about the bar explosion; their thoughts were that the same person or persons were responsible for planting the bomb at Anita's apartment.

  I was afraid to tell them some of what I knew. Afraid they wouldn't believe me, mostly. For now, I'd keep those things to myself.

  Plus, I'd lose my job if the Romes discovered I'd spoken with authorities. Keeping said job would enable me to stay on top of their involvement in whatever it was, plus keep me informed of new events, no matter how remotely connected they could be.

  "What do you want from us?" Kory asked, his words dry.

  "Information," Davis shrugged. "Whatever you can give us. It may help to unravel this mystery, before we find there's a too late attached to the whole thing."

  "That will only paint a larger target on my back," Kory snorted.

  "We may be able to offer some protection," Thomas' smile was tight. His words were sincere, only there was a note of incredulity attached. I had no idea why.

  I could tell Kory doubted his words, because he snorted a second time.

  "You're aware of what Granger is?" I asked. Clearly, their department understood what werewolves were, since they'd introduced themselves as members of separate Packs.

  "We know all about vampires and shapeshifters," Davis said. "We have several working in the Department, as you've already guessed. They know their secrets are safe with us—some have been employed by the Department for decades."

  "I started five years ago," Thomas grinned. "I love my job."

  "What can you tell us about the body found east of Vichy Springs?" Kory asked.

  "Not much," Thomas evaded the question.

  His statement was both truth and lie—he knew things but they were to be kept secret. I decided to let that go for now. My food arrived, along with more coffee for Davis and Thomas and a burger for Kory.

  I ate while our visitors outlined their plans. They asked for news regarding specific activities inside the San Francisco portion of Rome Enterprises. They also wanted information on certain things, such as employees acting or saying anything out of character, or of people disappearing without a logical explanation.

  I worried that they knew about Sirenali and that they might be more interested in Anita if they knew that's what she was.

  Anita wasn't a part of what was wrong; she was attempting to resolve at least some of it. They never asked about her, however, and what I was doing at her apartment.

  That surprised me. I would have asked those questions.

  "Look, we'll be in touch," Davis rose and stretched. Thomas nodded at Kory and me when he also stood, handing each of us a business card. "Just remember, sometimes the smallest thing can mean something, especially in a situation like this. Call the number on that card if you have information. We'll take care of the check on the way out."

  I watched as both turned and strode toward the cashier's stand, walking with the easy grace of confident werewolves. "If they have Brad Nolen in a safe place," I said, my lips feeling numb and the words foreign on my tongue, "then who dressed Gentry Mullins in Brad Nolen's clothes? My next question is this; why did they dress Gentry Mullins in Brad Nolen's clothes?"

  Kory didn't answer me at first; instead, he pulled a ten from his wallet and tossed it on the table as a tip. "Come on, onion, let's go home," he murmured. With his hand beneath my elbow, he helped me stand. I was grateful—I found my legs were shaking when I rose to my feet.

  Kory didn't speak again until we were halfway home. "I think somebody—a werewolf somebody—or perhaps more than one, was sniffing after the kidnap victims," he said. "My assumption is that when these not so law-abiding werewolves caught the scent from Brad's clothing, they went after him. Turned out to be too bad for Gentry Mullins, known criminal."

  "Do you think Gentry Mullins may have been involved in what's going on?" I asked. "And somebody wanted him out of the way, for whatever reason?"

  "Good question. I'll have to think about that. We really don't have enough information to even speculate at this point. I wish those two werewolves had told us what they knew about it."

  "Yeah. I got the idea they were holding that stuff back from us."

  "Baby, they're just looking for ways to get inside information. Never forget that. These people—sometimes they don't care about collateral damage, as long as they get what they want. Don't put yourself in danger just to answer a few of their questions, all right?"

  "Yeah." I pulled my jacket tighter about me and stared out the window. I didn't intend to tell Kory that I wanted the same questions answered, and I wasn't going to let the Romes kill Anita because she'd become something of a nuisance to them.

  I was more than grateful that Kory had his eyes on the road instead of me when a tiny curl of smoke escaped my nostrils. Somewhere inside me, the impossible had manifested and my Thifilatha wanted nothing more than to teach the Romes a lesson.

  "Early-morning gym tomorrow," Kory announced as he pulled into the driveway.

  "Yeah," I agreed. "Dinner at Farin's tomorrow night."

  "Yeah."

  * * *

  I learned shortly after I arrived at work that Farin's oven wasn't working, which precipitated her visit to my cubicle, where she asked to move the dinner to my place so we could make bread and roasted vegetables to go with the pork loin.

  "Sure," I agreed. "Just bring your slow cooker to the house and we'll finish everything in my kitchen."

  "I love you," Farin faked a kiss at me before trotting away to do the morning weather report.

  "I love you, too," I called out after her.

  * * *

  Hannah got the idea midmorning to interview someone at the Coroner's Office about Gentry Mullins' remains. Frankly, I didn't give a damn about Gentry Mullins—he murdered people and managed to elude police for years. I imagined that his victims who managed to survive were breathing relieved sighs at his unusual passing.

  At least we skirted Dan's source and went with the Deputy Coroner, who wanted his fifteen minutes of televised importance. We set up in an office, which had windows with a view of an autopsy room. Thankfully, it was empty.

  "I can't comment about anything found on the body," Deputy Coroner Jeremy Rollins explained. "Those items are being examined by the Forensics Department and we can't release any information."

  "Surely you can tell me something," Hannah purred. If she hadn't been on camera, she'd probably have trailed a manicured finger down the Deputy Coroner's face and wordlessly offered herself in exchange for information.

  That thought made me go still for a moment. What if she'd been directed to do just that by the Romes? Anita said she was obsessed to her hairline, so anything was possible. Blowing out a breath as silently as I could, I added one more thing to my long list of items to investigate.

  The problem was, my
list was too long already, and I really didn't have a good excuse to tail Hannah after work hours.

  I did, however, know someone who could and be discreet about it.

  Tonight, after Mason woke, I intended to ask him what he thought about following Hannah, just to see if she'd make good on the silent invitation she'd issued to the Deputy Coroner. If she did, I expected her to ask for information he would refuse to give through legitimate channels.

  I doubted her individual interest in any of that.

  I didn't doubt Granger, Claudia and the Rome's interest, though. Vampires could be stealthy and had extremely good hearing. Perhaps Mason would agree to help me out; he lived in my house rent free, after all.

  While Hannah continued to talk to Jeremy Rollins and Chet and Jessie packed their gear, I let my mind wander to the anonymous call I'd gotten about Gentry Mullins being the victim found outside Vichy Springs.

  I really, really wanted to know who'd called. The voice didn't sound like Thomas or Davis, but they had equipment to disguise their voices if they wanted. Either way, I hadn't heard that voice again, but was sure I could identify it if I did.

  Why had he called me? Shouldn't he have called Hannah or someone else more important at another station?

  I considered that there were some mysteries I might never solve, and that troubled me. I also considered that I could have more of my mother's talents than just cooking; she'd been a valuable agent for the Alliance Security Detail when she was younger. She'd taken down drug lords, mass murderers, slave rings and who knew what else?

  So many of those things she wasn't allowed to talk about, that's how secret they were. It made me think of my half-brother, Bel Erland. He and I used to speculate on some of Mom's escapades, but we'd never really learned the truth of them.

  Still, it was fun to imagine Mom leveling her wrath against those who deserved it. I hoped I could be as effective as she was if the need arose.

  Poor Kory—if he knew what I really was and what I could become, he wouldn't waste any time running in the opposite direction. Humans didn't fall in love with people who could become fifteen feet tall and burn anything they desired with just a touch.

  The positive side of that, of course, was that we could also shield anything or anyone we chose from fire; it had no effect on a Thifilathi or Thifilatha. My race had been designed to walk through molten lava without feeling its effects.

  No human would want that. To them, I'd be a monster. A silver, bat-winged-and-scaled monster. Mom's Thifilatha was gold; Great-Aunt Glinda's was white.

  I wondered how my Thifilatha found its way to silver.

  Regardless, it matched my last name. Perhaps somewhere in the cosmos, the Mighty were smiling at the coincidence. Or, perhaps they'd planned the whole thing. With them, one could never be sure.

  I considered, too, that so far, only my smaller Thifilatha had manifested. I imagined it would be roughly equivalent to my mother's, which was close to seven feet and I believed my full Thifilatha would also be the same, at fifteen feet.

  Either would scare Kory witless. Still, I intended to protect him with everything I had if Thomas and Davis were right about the criminal portion of the supernatural community placing a bounty on his head.

  At least Anita appreciated what I'd become. If I hadn't, we'd both be dead.

  "I'll get that," I lifted Chet's tripod and followed him to the van. Hannah spent another five minutes talking to Jeremy while we loaded everything and then waited patiently for her in the parking garage.

  Kory hadn't driven us today; he had other assignments at the downtown headquarters. George, whose skin was as dark as his smile was bright, drove us instead. I liked him very much—I'd already seen photographs of his two sons and his wife. I'd promised to make cinnamon rolls for him to take home the following Friday, so he could treat his boys.

  If Anita wanted evidence that the Romes practiced discrimination, she only had to look in George's direction. He had a degree in journalism, yet the closest he could come to being a journalist with Rome Enterprises was driving Hannah and others like her on outside assignments.

  Uncle Tybus' words came to me, then.

  You won't be able to change everything for the better, young one, he'd said. Change what you can as well as you can.

  Lee would be leaving in another week. I intended to call Anita and then have an unscheduled meeting with Lee before he left for his new job.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  "My ex is pregnant," Watson announced as he climbed into my Jeep Friday afternoon.

  "Not with yours, I hope," I said.

  "I wish it was mine," he muttered.

  "Hey, I thought you and Anita," I began.

  "I like her, man, but she's not a werewolf."

  "Ah. I see where this is going. You weren't high enough on the totem pole to be a candidate for your female."

  "Yeah." Watson slumped in his seat.

  "You know, I probably understand that better than you think," I said, checking traffic before pulling away from the curb.

  "What do you know about that?" Watson demanded. He didn't believe me—that was evident.

  "I know about being left at the altar, because my woman didn't want anything to do with me," I said.

  Watson turned his head in my direction and lifted an eyebrow in sudden interest. "It was an arranged marriage," I went on. "She hadn't even met me and decided to leave me standing there."

  "Dude, that sucks," Watson said.

  "Yeah."

  "Well, at least you have Lexsi, now. I see how you look at her."

  "Dude, my intended was Lexsi. She just doesn't know it. She thinks I'm human. You breathe a word of this and I'll burn every bit of fur off your balls, man."

  "You mean you're courting her now?"

  "Yeah. Look, this is how it's done with my kind. Someone's chosen for you and you show up at a wedding. She decided to run away instead. I have to convince her to love me back before I tell her anything."

  "Well, all I gotta say is you hit the jackpot, man. That woman is smokin' hot."

  "I know that already, so keep those wandering eyeballs to yourself."

  "Dude, I'm not encroaching on your territory. If I need somebody, I'll hook up with Anita."

  "Hey, Anita deserves better than somebody looking for the casual hookup, all right?"

  "You don't get to tell me what to do," Watson went into morose status in a blink. "I like Anita. It's her choice, too, you know."

  "Fine. Just—don't mistreat her or lead her on. Anita almost died the other night, so she's vulnerable."

  "I'll be honest with her." He hunched into his jacket and turned away from me. Because he was turned away from me, I allowed a curl of smoke to escape my nostrils. Every man ought to realize that every woman was equal and precious. Watson didn't appreciate someone playing with his emotions by giving the woman he loved to another. Anita, by extension, didn't deserve to have her emotions toyed with, either.

  Perhaps if he'd lived more than a thousand years, as I had, he'd see that for himself. On Kifirin, High Demon females were extremely rare. To be promised one in marriage soon after her birth was nothing short of a miracle.

  I was nobody important; I still found it extraordinary that I'd been selected as Lexsi's mate.

  Until she ran away from me, that is. At times, I figured this was punishment for a misdeed somewhere in my past. I suppose the extraordinary thing in this chain of events was that Lexsi and I ended up on the same planet, and in the same city.

  Destined to meet, an inner voice informed me. "We're having pork loin for dinner," I told Watson. "I hope you're hungry."

  * * *

  Lexsi

  I threw a cake together while helping Farin and Anita do vegetables and a salad. Tiburon was scheduled to arrive any moment when Kory and Watson came through the door. Both needed to change before sitting down to eat; Kory grinned when I asked if he intended to wear what he had on.

  "Not for dinner with you,
onion," he said and took off toward his bedroom. Watson took the hint and did likewise. If he hadn't, Anita might have hauled him toward his closet herself.

  Tiburon arrived on time; Farin got a kiss and the bottle of wine he'd brought with him. The smile on his face told me he was in love with News Seventy-Four's daytime meteorologist.

  "This is a really good red," I acknowledged when Farin handed the bottle to me.

  "I'll open it," Kory offered. I handed it to him and went looking for wineglasses. Rick arrived while Kory was pouring wine. He'd brought flowers.

  Farin said he liked me. If I could have turned a brighter shade of red, I surely would have. Kory frowned when Rick leaned in to peck me on the cheek. "Uh, I'll find water," I burbled. "For, uh, the flowers. Yeah."

  I turned away as quickly as I could without appearing rude. I thought I'd explained things well enough to Farin. Whatever she'd told Rick, it hadn't been the right thing, or enough of it. I'd have to tell him myself, as uncomfortable as that felt.

  I wanted to splash cold water on my face instead of filling a crystal vase with it. The flowers, the vast majority of them roses, didn't smell as sweet as those outside my window on Avendor. For a moment, a wave of homesickness hit me.

  "You all right?" Anita's voice was soft as she came to stand beside me.

  "I told Farin I wasn't interested," I mumbled. "What am I going to do?"

  "Tell Kory later," she said. "Rick ought to know better."

  "What if he doesn't?" I moaned.

  "Then you'll have to tell him how things are yourself."

  "I feel sick," I whispered.

  "Come on, you have to perk up and eat," she scolded. "People are wondering what's going on with you."

  "Great." I wobbled toward the table with a fake smile on my face and a knot of vipers roiling in my stomach. I ended up sitting between Kory and Rick and barely choked down a minimum amount of food.

  How could I have known that things would get worse? Rick started talking about Mike and how much he missed him. He choked up when he speculated that Mike could be dead and he might never know it.

  That's when Kory's hand gripped mine under the table—a silent warning that we couldn't tell what we knew. We'd been warned by Davis and Thomas that spilling that secret could jeopardize their investigation.