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

by Suttle, Connie

  Hannah never came to work; someone else did her segments on the six and eleven o'clock news.

  It was Friday night, I hadn't heard a thing from Kory, Rick was obsessed and gone, Watson wrecked the TinyCar, I still had no information on Granger and Claudia or how they were connected to the Romes, and why they were connected.

  There had to be some sort of grand scheme, here, but I had no idea where the loose thread might be in order to unravel it all.

  "Want some wine?" Anita plopped onto the barstool next to mine at the kitchen island.

  "Yeah. What should we have?"

  "Pinot Noir?"

  "Sure."

  "How about a sandwich? We have ham and roast beef," Anita cajoled.

  "Fine."

  "Hey." Watson shuffled into the kitchen and dropped two sets of car keys at my elbow. "Our loaners," he said.

  "Thanks. How'd you get both home?"

  "Werewolf agent," he said. "Sorry about your car."

  "I heard it wasn't your fault."

  "It wasn't. I survived. The other two didn't."

  "What other two?" He had my immediate interest.

  "Actually, the TinyCar is fine, Davis is having somebody go through it to check for bugs. They think those two in the SUV that hit me were out to get me or you."

  "You're being talkative all of a sudden," Anita said. "Want wine or something stronger?"

  "Bourbon," Watson said and took the seat next to Anita's.

  "I already know you want a sandwich," she offered him a grin.

  "Yeah."

  While Anita pulled packages of deli meats, mayo and other things from the fridge, Watson turned toward me. "I saw somebody today," he said. "Right after the wreck. Dark hair, strange blue eyes, looked like she was glowing. She said the car and the house are protected. I know for a fact the TinyCar didn't have a scratch on it, and it should have been totaled. Me with it," he added with a frown.

  Anita set a glass of bourbon in front of him.

  "You saw Aunt Bree," I said. "This is her house and that's her car. I'm not surprised they're protected."

  "That's not all she said," he wriggled uncomfortably on his barstool.

  "What else did she say?"

  "She told me to pull my head out of my ass and stand with my friends. Then she told me to tell you," he jerked his head in my direction, "that you have more of your grandmother in you than you know. She said something funny, then. She said you can find secrets in the mist. The last thing she said was, take them down."

  "Who is your Aunt Bree?" Anita asked.

  "My grandmother's sister. I can't say exactly what she is, because I don't know. What I do know is this—when Aunt Bree talks, everyone pays attention."

  "I'll drink to that," Watson raised his glass. I clinked my wineglass against his and drank.

  Chapter 15

  Lexsi

  Yes, I was tipsy when I wandered toward my bedroom. Watson had already herded Anita toward his, while Tibby had shown up earlier and coaxed Farin into the kitchen to have a sandwich and a glass of wine with us.

  They were still in the kitchen talking when I decided to go to bed.

  I saw them the moment I opened the bedroom door. My blades, gleaming in the filtered light from the hallway, lay on my bed. An envelope lay atop the blades.

  Closing the door, I flipped on the light and blinked in the sudden brightness.

  Lexsi, the note began. You must solve this mystery, with help from your friends. Terrible things are stirring, and they must be stopped before too much damage is done. Find the secrets while hidden in mist. As for the Romes, take them down.

  Bree

  P.S. Be gentle with Kory when you discover his secret. He loves you.

  B.

  Moving the blades aside—they were spelled by Grey House and quite expensive—I reread the note.

  She'd told Watson that I had more of my grandmother in me than I knew. My grandmother, the Queen of Le-Ath Veronis and a vampire, could easily turn to mist. Why didn't my father have that talent as well? He was half High Demon and half vampire. My mother was a quarter High Demon, but had received all the gifts a High Demon could possess, in addition to many other talents.

  Had the misting talent skipped a generation? Why was I being told this now, instead of in my past?

  And why had I not turned Thifilatha before? A small voice asked.

  Because I hadn't needed it before.

  There was one way to find out if this were true. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. After fumbling through my first few attempts, I eventually got the hang of it. My grandmother, a Queen Vampire, could become mist easily. It was a part of her heritage and the ability not only gave her invisibility, she could send her mist through any solid surface.

  Bullets and other projectiles would go right through her mist without harming her. Many lives, including her own, had been saved by that one, incredible talent. I also possessed that talent, now, and hoped it would become just as formidable a weapon for me as it was for my gran.

  * * *

  Saturday morning, I cleared the desk in Aunt Bree's study. Then, I skipped to a local art store and bought a large corkboard, pins, paper and other supplies. I drank a cup of coffee while I wrote events on colored paper and pinned them to the corkboard, along with relevant photographs I printed from my laptop.

  I included the bus kidnappings in California and Texas, the women's' shelter murders, Loftin Qualls' supposed execution and subsequent cremation, Hannah's party and the guests she'd invited, Clawdia's destruction, and everything else that had occurred that I had no explanation for.

  "What's up?" Watson stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with curiosity.

  "I'm trying to put all this together," I mumbled, pinning another paper to the corkboard. "None of it makes sense."

  "You trust me to see this?" he asked, stepping inside the study and examining the corkboard.

  "Aunt Bree came to you. She wouldn't appear before just anybody."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Aunt Bree and her sister—my grandmother—are sort of powerful," I sighed. "If I were you, I wouldn't cross either of them."

  "No plans to," he held up a hand. "She made me see the light, so to speak."

  "Funny. Look, I know you got replaced at the bar—Tooth and Nail—I saw those two people in there Wednesday night before I punched the vampire bouncer in the face and got the hell out of there."

  "You punched Willis?"

  "Woolly mammoth Willis?"

  "That's the one."

  "Yeah. I punched him. He and three other vamps wanted to take me down."

  "You're braver than I thought," Watson grinned.

  "Dumber than you thought, more likely," I said.

  "Word is that nobody has seen Granger lately, but I overheard something at the bar while unloading cases of booze yesterday morning," Watson said. "I didn't think it made any sense, but nothing else makes much sense either," He tapped the corkboard with a finger.

  "What did you hear?"

  "That Granger was with the devil."

  "Huh? They said exactly that?"

  "I extrapolated. It was noisy in the back, and all I could hear was Granger is with devil."

  "You think they meant a real devil?"

  "I thought they meant the devil," Watson blew out a breath. "Like I said, it makes no sense."

  "I wish I could talk to Mike. Granger and his bunch wants him back because he knows something. He either saw or heard something he wasn't supposed to, because they planned to kill him and Vann."

  "I concur."

  * * *

  Kordevik

  I heard from Watson after lunch. He was off this weekend; he'd claimed injuries from the accident and Claudia allowed him two days to recover. He was resting at Lexsi's place and eating enough for at least two people.

  After all, he was on Granger's list, now; the more I thought about it, the more certain I was of that fact. Lexsi, too, because she was associated with
me. If the house were protected in some way, Watson needed that protection just as much as Lexsi did.

  In addition to Granger, I suspected Claudia was involved in arranging the accident to begin with, since two werewolves were following the TinyCar. Watson suspected the same thing, and I worried about his continued employment with Claudia. If he went back to work, he could end up dead.

  Watson also told Davis and me that a werewolf he knew died Friday night—with no apparent cause given. Because the victim was werewolf, Claudia would likely have a private funeral and whoever it was would have merely disappeared, according to human records.

  Watson suspected foul play, but had no way to investigate the death, which happened at the winery that Claudia purchased as her new home.

  I still didn't know where that was.

  You know Claudia will be watching you from now on, I texted Watson back.

  What else is new? Came the reply.

  What will happen if you don't go back? I asked.

  I'll never get my girl if I don't.

  How does your girl feel about all this, or is she just stringing you along?

  I don't know the answer to that anymore. I'm worried about my sister, too.

  I could almost hear the desperation in Watson's voice as I read the text. He was more than confused and I felt sympathy and kinship in his plight. I worried that the moment Lexsi learned who I really was, she'd run away again and I'd never have another chance with her.

  My relationship with Lexsi teetered on a thin edge, and I blamed Granger and Claudia Platt for that. The Romes, too, since they were connected in some way.

  Dude, turn on the news, Watson texted. Hannah just got arrested for murdering that Coroner guy.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  I got word from Lee's assistant at the station, since Lee no longer worked there. Lee's replacement wouldn't arrive until Monday, and I was grateful not to hear the news from him.

  Hannah was in jail for Jeremy Rollins' murder. That information was currently running on every station, including the national news programs. If this didn't cause Rome Enterprises stock to plummet further than it already had, then I would be much surprised.

  I watched in stunned silence as images were shown of Hannah being led into a police station while reporters from every news outlet except ours bombarded her with questions. As expected, she kept her mouth shut.

  At that moment, I wanted Kory with me. Somehow, I needed to get to Hannah and ask one simple question. A fear grew inside me—I doubted Hannah would do this sort of thing on her own and I also doubted that the Romes would let her take the fall for a crime they may have had a hand in.

  "This is definitely fucked up," Anita gestured at the television screen Watson and I watched in the kitchen. Watson pulled her onto the barstool next to his and wrapped his arms about her shoulders.

  "I need to see her," I announced. "I have to ask her a question."

  "Look, this is no time to taint yourself further by getting anywhere near that bitch," Anita huffed.

  "I may need your help to get to her," I said, ignoring Anita's warning.

  "Why in the name of all the stars would I do that?"

  "Because I'm afraid that isn't Hannah."

  "What the fucking hell?" Watson stared at me in disbelief.

  * * *

  "Look, even if that isn't Hannah, what can we do about it?" Anita argued. "The authorities have her and they've made positive ID. I'm assuming that means fingerprints, Lexsi. We may be walking into a trap if we attempt to get in and ask questions."

  "But that may be an innocent person sitting in jail," I countered. "Her only crime may be looking like Hannah. How, I have no idea, but something is up."

  "See my previous trap reference," Anita's fists were on her hips, and if she were in her alternate form, I imagined her scales would be bristling, too.

  "Fine. What do you want me to do, then?"

  "Give it a day or two," Anita said. "Let's see how this shakes out. Surely you can wait until Monday."

  "All right—maybe Hannah's old boss will be interested in visiting her. If I'm lucky, he'll ask for someone to come with him."

  "I doubt that will happen, but sure. Whatever will keep you away from that jail is fine by me."

  "You're really concerned about this, aren't you?" I asked. I couldn't recall Anita ever arguing this passionately about anything before. Her deep, green eyes studied me for a moment before she jerked her head in a nod.

  "All right. We'll let this go for now, but I'm still saying that probably isn't Hannah. I'm worried the real, murdering Hannah is off somewhere, enjoying wine and pool boys at the Romes' expense."

  "Pool boys? Damn, it sucks to be working middle class," Anita sighed. I smiled as the tension left her body.

  "Hey, what about Watson?" I asked.

  "Sex only—he made that clear in the beginning," she said. "And I'm okay with that."

  "Then I hope it's damn good," I frowned at her.

  "It's more than adequate," she grinned.

  "Then I guess it's a good thing he's eating a sandwich on the back patio and isn't here to listen to you describe him as adequate."

  "Hey, I said more than adequate," she pointed a finger at me. "Actually, it's downright hot, but I didn't want you to be jealous."

  "Of what?"

  "The fact that you're not getting sex."

  "Oh, we had to play the sex card, huh?" My arms were now crossed over my chest. Did she know I was inexperienced in that department? Here I was, never having had sex with any male and feeling jealous, just as she'd said. Sure, I'd been promised to someone since I was an infant, therefore I'd pushed others away.

  Perhaps I shouldn't have done that. If I'd taken what they offered, I wouldn't feel like such an ignorant klutz if I got the opportunity to have sex with Kory.

  Since I'd learned he wasn't human, it raised my hopes that he'd understand when he discovered what I really was.

  Kory, I want to sleep with you, I sent, glad for once that he would never hear a word of what I'd just admitted to him.

  * * *

  Kordevik

  I choked on my drink, I was so shocked. No doubt she'd be embarrassed when she learned I could hear her mindspeech.

  It didn't stop my cock from stiffening, either, at the blatant invitation. Another drink and a cool shower might be in order, to combat the effect Lexsi's mindspeech had on my body.

  * * *

  Lexsi

  "Hannah just pled guilty at her arraignment." Barry, Lee's former assistant, informed me on the phone.

  That's when I knew it wasn't Hannah who'd been arrested. She'd never capitulate, even in the face of overwhelming evidence.

  "They're moving her to the county jail in San Bruno tomorrow," Barry added. "No word on what sort of time she'll do. We'll have a weekend reporter there—every other station will be there, too, so we have to have a presence."

  "Do you want me to be there?" I asked.

  "No. Separate yourself from this, Silver," he said. "You don't need anyone approaching you with questions."

  "Yeah, I see your point," I agreed.

  "If anybody manages to track you down, the standard response is no comment," he reminded me.

  "Got it. Thanks for the update."

  "I'll let you know if anything else crops up."

  "Thanks, Barry. See you Monday," I said and ended the call.

  * * *

  Hannah's move to the San Bruno facility was scheduled Sunday afternoon. Both of Hannah's male assistants, who seldom showed up at the station, had refused to comment. If requests had come to the station, asking for a comment from me, they'd apparently been deflected already.

  Local and national media were speculating wildly about the whole thing, and bashing News Seventy-Four for refusing to comment. In my estimation, it was a no-win situation. They did report that Lee had officially suspended Hannah before he left, and the murder took place shortly afterward.

  Lee refused to com
ment, like everyone else. I had no idea what word, if any, had come from the Romes, and I wondered at the fact that they were content to allow their company to lose half its value in a single weekend.

  After all, I suspected that they'd engineered the entire debacle, just to get the authorities away from Hannah and her willingness to do whatever it took to get information she wasn't allowed to have.

  My guess was that whoever had the stolen wristband was either named Rome or employed by or associated with someone named Rome.

  Aunt Bree hadn't said to take Granger or Claudia down. She'd told me to take the Romes down. I assumed they were at the bottom of this mess, with potential outside help.

  Perhaps the devil that Watson mentioned.

  In all my studies and research, I'd never heard of a race that called themselves such. There were demons, of course—High, Greater and Lesser. Every kind of shapeshifter you could imagine, creatures not dreamed of in any Earthling's imagination, too, but no actual devils.

  Watson said he'd thought they meant the devil, but I doubted Granger would align himself with someone who reportedly handled fire on a regular basis.

  Fire and vampires didn't mix well.

  Fire and werewolves didn't mix well, either.

  Frustration mounted as I stared at my corkboard in the study. Sure, I had another weapon in my arsenal, but what good did it do to become mist when I couldn't decide where to go first?

  Gran would know—she and my mother were good at this sort of thing. Instead, the mystery lay in my inexperienced hands, and I was mucking it up.

  Kory, I sent, Watson heard somebody say the devil was with Granger. Like it was a real person. What does this mean?

  I didn't keep the anguished frustration from my mental voice. He wouldn't hear anything anyway, and it helped to say the words, even if they were silent.

  My cell phone rang ten seconds later.

  "Want to go out tonight?" Kory asked. "I think we can arrange to be almost invisible, and get some work done at the same time."

  "Yes," I said, my voice breathless. "What time?"

  "Meet me at Tibby's gym. You have that address?"

  "Yeah, he left it here in case we wanted to go," I said.

  "Good. Be there around eight. Go inside—I'll find you."

  "Okay." Excitement began to rise—I was going to see Kory.