Blood of the Demon

by Diana Rowland

  My thoughts drifted back to the sense of responsibility I had toward Kehlirik. I’d thought that it was just honor that drove me to check on him, but I realized there was more to it than that. I summoned these creatures from an alternate plane of existence, and I was the one responsible for their safety and well-being. Even though technically they couldn’t be killed here, since a mortal injury would merely send them back to their own sphere, I knew too well that it wasn’t comfortable or pleasant to go through that.

  The relationship between summoner and demons was a strange and complex one, and I was still learning some of the nuances of it. When I’d first started my training as a summoner, I was mildly horrified at the entire idea—the fact that summoners basically yanked demons from their home world and brought them here to serve them. But as I learned more, I saw that it wasn’t as simple—or crude—as that at all. True, the demons did not care to be summoned, and their honor demanded that they put up a struggle and demand a sacrifice or offering in return. Yet, at the same time, they gained great status among their own kind by being summoned, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the demons benefited in other ways from sojourns in this sphere.

  I finished up my reports, then gave the officer at the door a break for a while. It was too miserably hot to make one person suffer alone, so the few of us remaining there rotated the duty. It was early evening before the coroner’s black van pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, to our huge relief. The investigator and her assistant both looked frayed and were in little mood to engage in conversation. I couldn’t blame them—they’d been baking on the side of a highway while the fire department had surgically ripped vehicles apart to extract victims, both living and dead. I was also more than eager to finish up at this scene, so once we all made sure that there were no previously unseen injuries on Carol’s body, she was bagged, tagged, loaded into the van, and taken to the morgue.

  I released the scene as soon as they were out of the parking lot and was in my own car less than a minute later. I was tired and cranky and wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl under the covers and hide from the world, but I had no choice. I had to go back to my aunt’s house and dismiss Kehlirik.

  I turned the radio in the car to the country music station, singing along loudly to Carrie Underwood and fighting the fatigue that dragged at me. When I finally turned onto Tessa’s street, I felt as if I’d run a gauntlet of street signs and other drivers. The sun glowed ruddy orange across Lake Pearl as it began to dip below the horizon. I parked in Tessa’s driveway, pulling myself out of the car just as a shudder of arcane nausea rippled over me. I staggered, putting a hand on the hood of my car to get my bearings back, taking deep breaths until it passed. And here we go from solar back to lunar. Ugh.

  Now I understood why summoners seldom maintained a summoning for more than a few hours, though at least this transition didn’t seem as intense as the one this morning. I took a settling breath as the feeling faded, then pushed off the car and headed up the porch, disabling the protections and aversion wards twining around the door as I entered.

  The hallway was empty and the library door open, which I took as a positive sign. At least the reyza had made it that far.

  But I still peered around the doorway with more than a bit of caution. I let my breath out at the sight of Kehlirik crouched in the center of the library, arms folded across his knees and wings tucked along his back. His skin had a vaguely greenish cast, and I thought I detected the barest tremor in his wings. Well, that answers the question of whether or not Kehlirik had felt it too.

  I extended cautiously but couldn’t feel any of the nasty-ugly wards that had been there earlier. I looked to the demon with worry. “Are you all right? You were successful?”

  He nodded once. “I was.” His nostrils flared. “I … have hunger. Forgive me, but it was more difficult than I had expected.”

  “No need for apology, honored one. I can prepare food for you.” The reyza looked like shit. I’d never seen one so pale and still before. That must have been one doozy of a battle with the wards. “Um, can you eat our food?”

  He shifted his wings. “I can, though I prefer not to eat flesh.”

  I blinked. A vegetarian demon. “Right. Wait here. I’ll return in a moment.” I turned and hurried off to my aunt’s kitchen, grimacing. I wasn’t even sure if there was anything to eat in the house. Nothing perishable, that was for certain. I rummaged through the pantry, frowning. I’d cleaned her refrigerator out weeks ago, and there wasn’t a hell of a lot in her pantry either. A box of microwave popcorn, a bag of pretzels. Saltines. A can of Blue Runner red beans and a box of Minute rice.

  “Poor man’s red beans and rice it is,” I muttered to myself. Beans were vegetarian, right? Hopefully he wasn’t vegan, because I had no idea if Blue Runner beans qualified. But at this point there wasn’t much choice. I opened the beans and dumped them into a pot, then set water boiling in another pot. I also grabbed a bag of popcorn and jammed it into the microwave. Kehlirik looked like he needed food now.

  I stirred the beans as the popcorn popped in the microwave, my mind wandering as I looked out at the sunset settling across the lake in streaks of pink and blue. A view like this would be the only way I could get used to living in the middle of town. I adored my privacy, but the view from Tessa’s kitchen window was absolutely exquisite.

  The microwave dinged and I removed the bag. I was just pouring it into a bowl when I heard a scream and a shout from the hallway. That was not Kehlirik.

  Then a resonating growl. That was.

  I dashed out of the kitchen, still clutching the bowl of popcorn. Jill was in the hallway, staring at Kehlirik, who stood in the doorway to the library. I could see what was happening—one of those damn slow-motion things as I watched Jill pull her gun. Shit!

  “No!” I shouted to both of them. I didn’t have much fear that Jill would be able to hit him; I knew how fast and powerful a reyza was. I was far more afraid that his retaliation would be fatal for her. “Kehlirik, no! Jill, stop!”

  Jill snapped her head around to look at me, eyes wide in shock, her gun still pointed at the demon. Kehlirik stood motionless, but I could feel the coiled tension in him, and I knew that if he decided to react, it would be faster than I would be able to see, even exhausted as he was.

  “Jill, it’s not what you think.” Then I grimaced. “Okay, maybe it is what you think. But he won’t hurt you, I swear it.” I looked back at Kehlirik. Still not moving, he glowered down at the diminutive tech. I moved forward and thrust the bowl of popcorn at him. His gaze slowly dropped to the bowl, then lifted to me. A low rumble emanated from him, and I wasn’t quite sure if it was meant to be a growl.

  “I’m cooking more food for you,” I told him, “but until it’s done, here’s some popcorn.” I pushed the bowl at him again.

  He huffed and took the bowl in both hands, then sank into a crouch, gaze returning to Jill, eyes now almost level with hers. “My thanks, Kara Gillian,” he said, his deep voice resounding in the hallway. He picked up a single kernel between two clawed fingers, examined it with a frown, then carefully crunched it between his wicked fangs.

  “Kara?” Jill’s voice was shaky, but, to give the woman credit, she hadn’t run screaming. “Mind sharing with me what the fuck is going on?”

  I sighed. “It’s … hard to explain. But I promise I will.” I was still trying to figure out how the hell she’d gotten in here. “But you should probably put the gun away. It won’t do you much good against him anyway, and besides, he won’t hurt you.”

  Jill stared at me for another several heartbeats, then looked back at the demon, who was now eating the popcorn by massive handfuls. Finally she lowered her gun and holstered it.

  I let my breath out in relief. “How did you get in here?”

  She gave me an exasperated look. “I walked in the goddamn front door. I live on the next street over, and I drive past here every day. I saw your car out front and thought I’d pop in an
d see how you were holding up after today. I rang the bell, but there was no answer.”

  I couldn’t keep the laugh contained. “Well, the bell’s broken, and you weren’t supposed to be able to walk in the goddamn front door.” Then I winced. “Crap, I took down the wards when I came in.” Nice, Kara. Good thing it was only Jill.

  She scowled and put her hands on her hips. “Kara, who the fuck is that? Or what the fuck?” She flung her arm out to gesture at the demon—who I would have sworn was staring mournfully into the depths of the empty popcorn bowl.

  I jammed my fingers through my hair. “Okay, come into the kitchen while I stir the beans and I’ll explain. Or at least I’ll try to.” I glanced at Kehlirik. “If you come too, I’ll make more popcorn.”

  The demon stood quickly. “That would please me, summoner. I find this pahpcahn quite appealing.”

  Too fucking weird. I turned and headed to the kitchen and stirred the beans, which were about to burn. I turned the heat down, then threw the Minute rice into the water. I’d never claimed to be a gourmet cook. If it wasn’t for the invention of the microwave, I’d have starved a long time ago.

  Jill followed me in, slowly pulling herself onto one of the stools on the other side of the counter, her eyes staying on the demon as he stood by the kitchen door. I didn’t miss the fact that he had effectively blocked the one exit. I pulled another popcorn bag out of the pantry and stuffed it into the microwave. After I had it going, I turned back to Jill.

  “Okay, long story short, I have the ability to summon creatures from another plane of existence. They’re called demons, but they’re not the ‘demons from hell’ that you were taught about in Sunday school.”

  Jill gave me a withering look. “I’m Jewish.”

  I blinked. “With a last name like Faciane?”

  She gave a funny little shrug. “It was my late husband’s name. I didn’t feel like changing it back after he died.”

  Jill was a widow? “Oh. I’m sorry, I—”

  She waved her hand impatiently. “It was a very short marriage. Very. But it’s also a very long story. So please get back to the subject at hand? Hmmm?”

  “Sure. Sorry. Anyway, the demons are arcane creatures from a different plane of existence. I can create a portal between our two spheres. And … um … I summon them.”

  Jill’s eyes were narrowed. The microwave dinged, and I tore my attention from her long enough to pull the bag out and pour more popcorn into the bowl that the demon still clutched. I turned away and busied myself with pouring the rice into a bowl, then dumping the beans on top. I stirred it up quickly, then passed it over to the demon, who had already finished off the popcorn.

  Jill groaned. “Blue Runners and Minute rice? Dear God, my mama would be having a stroke if she saw that.”

  Jill was from New Orleans, with a mama who probably cooked red beans and rice every Monday, according to New Orleans tradition. With real red beans that had been soaked overnight and real rice.

  “What, you thought my aunt was going to teach me how to cook?” I snorted, then looked at Kehlirik. He was carefully scraping the last dregs from the bowl with the side of the spoon. My mouth twitched. “That was acceptable, honored one?”

  The demon rumbled. “Most acceptable. I have never had reason to sample the food of this realm. I find it quite interesting.”

  “Great. Put him on the Food Channel,” Jill said sourly. “Can we please get back to this whole business of you summoning demons?”

  “Look, they’re not evil. Demon is just the term that they’ve had for centuries, and it was sorta co-opted by various religions and turned into an evil-creature definition. They’re really more like aliens, except that they’re from a different plane of existence instead of from a different planet.”

  Jill regarded me, a sour look still on her face, blue eyes fixed on me. I suddenly realized I was scared to death that she was going to walk out and never speak to me again. And I wasn’t sure if I could handle it if she bailed.

  “Jill,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice steady, “I’m still me. I’m not a bad person.”

  She blinked. “I know you’re not bad,” she replied, as if shocked at the idea. She fell silent for several heartbeats, then threw up her hands. “What the fuck. As dark secrets go, this is a doozy, but you’re still the coolest chick in Investigations.” She smiled at me, and I returned the smile in weak relief, literally gripping the counter behind my back to support myself.

  Kehlirik daintily wiped the corner of his mouth with one claw as he handed the bowl to me. “My thanks, summoner. The wards laid by Zhergalet throughout the house have been removed.” He flared his nostrils. “You will need to restore these yourself or summon another to renew them for you.” He huffed softly. “You should attempt to do it yourself, even if you must summon guidance. You have the strength for it, if not the experience.”

  I felt like I was being counseled by a professor. “Do you know anything more about why those wards were placed on the library?”

  His heavy brow drew down. “I have formed some theories, but I would need to gather more information before I would be willing to give voice to them.” He settled his wings and folded his arms across his chest. “Lord Rhyzkahl has a message for you. He desires you to summon him, and he has given his word that there will be no reprisals for doing so.”

  I felt rooted to the spot. I had certainly not expected anything like that. The no reprisals thing was pretty damn important, but my mouth still went dry at the thought of summoning him. Demonic lords considered a summoning of their person to be an affront and an insult of the highest order, which meant they had an annoying tendency to slaughter any summoner who actually managed to bring them through successfully. But if Rhyzkahl had truly promised that there would be no reprisals, that meant I could do a far less rigorous summoning ritual, since I wouldn’t have to maintain ten jillion levels of protections to keep from being torn to shreds. Also, if he wanted to be summoned, that meant the pull through the portal would not be as difficult. It would be damn near as simple as a first-level summoning.

  So, now I was torn. In the past few weeks I’d come to accept that I’d seen the last of the angelically beautiful and deathly powerful demonic lord. I’d had no reason to believe that I would ever see him in the flesh again. Not when such summonings were so dangerous. I still dreamed of him, but those dreams were nothing like the utterly realistic sendings of before, which had been possible due to a link he’d placed on me when I accidentally summoned him. I’d come to the conclusion that the link had been broken when I passed through the spheres and re-formed on earth, but there was a part of me that wasn’t so sure. Could he still be touching me through the link? Or was I dreaming of him because my subconscious couldn’t control itself?

  Then again, if he wished me to summon him, my questions surrounding the dreams seemed rather irrelevant now.

  “Did he say—” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Did he say why he wanted me to summon him?”

  “He did not advise me of such, merely bade me give you the message.” He lowered his head and looked at me with his ruddy eyes. “The moon is still full enough tonight.”

  I controlled the urge to rub the gooseflesh on my arms. “You may tell him that you have delivered the message.” I had no idea whether I would comply or not. But I did miss Rhyzkahl, in a weird way. I was well aware that he wanted to use me, but he had given me a chance to live, and he’d been under no duress whatsoever to do that. And then he’d informed me that he’d taken the payment for it already, telling me in not so many words that I didn’t owe an honor debt to him. That was important, since honor was pivotal in the demon realm. Oaths were law, and you impugned the honor of a demon at your own peril. “Kehlirik, was there something else you wanted to speak to me about?” Something about Ryan? I added silently.

  The demon seemed to hesitate for a breath before shaking his head. “I did, but it is no longer of any import.”

  Maybe it had n
othing to do with Ryan after all, I thought, but Kehlirik spoke before I could do more than wonder.

  “Summoner, I have been here overly long.”

  Suddenly I could feel it too, though I hadn’t realized it until he said something about it. I felt stretched and on edge, like the feeling you get when you’re positive that something hideous is about to happen. But now that he’d identified the cause of it, I relaxed. It wasn’t a premonition—merely the arcane bindings that were connected to me stretching and warping from long use that they weren’t designed for.

  “Yes, of course. Kehlirik, I thank you for your aid, and for your gift.”

  He inclined his head. “And I thank you for the meal.” He crouched before me. I hesitated, not certain if I wanted to do a dismissal in front of Jill. But, hell, might as well give her the full initiation now. I lifted my arms and started the dismissal chant, using the words to shape my will. A cold wind swirled through the kitchen, and I heard Jill’s surprised yelp. A slit of blinding light appeared behind the demon like a rent in the cosmos—which it basically was. Kehlirik threw his head back and let out a loud bellow as the light swallowed him, and an instant later both light and demon disappeared with a loud crack like a breaking glacier.

  I pushed my hands through my hair, then slid a cautious look at Jill. She was staring at the place where the demon had been, lips pressed together, frowning. Then she took a deep breath and looked at me.

  “Okay,” she said in a shockingly calm voice. “That pretty much takes care of the possibility that you were playing some sort of elaborate practical joke on me with someone in a really good costume.”

  I gave a breathless laugh as I pulled myself onto a stool. Dismissals were tiring, and I’d already started out exhausted. “Sorry, chick. That was the real thing.” I looked at her warily. “Are you … I mean, is this going to be …” My words trailed away. I didn’t know how to ask what I wanted to know.