Mason grinned and held out his hand. Klancy did one better, rising from his seat at the island and moving to kiss my cheek. So far, Watson hadn't offered anything of the sort; he'd only barked at us when he was hungry, thirsty or tired.
He may have to warm his own bed, I thought to myself, although I recognized it for the lie it was.
* * *
Lexsi
"I texted Anita, to tell her we're staying here for the night," I said. Kory and I had connecting rooms at a hotel in Silver Spring, not far from Opal's office. Opal promised that we'd have uniforms delivered in the morning, before we started our day on another plane ride—this time to Texas.
We were going to interview Loftin Qualls' family about the so-called copycat crime committed in Austin.
I suppose they thought themselves immune by now—with Loftin considered officially dead. At least Kell would be with us, if we needed compulsion. Anita would have been useful with her talent of obsession, but she was worried about Watson.
"I wish Klancy and Mason were like Kell," I said, pointing my newly purchased hairbrush at Kory, who lounged against the doorjamb separating our rooms.
"You mean able to walk in daylight and eat a normal meal?"
"Yeah." I let my shoulders droop. If wishes were horses, Gran always said, beggars would ride.
"Stranger things have surely happened," Kory pushed himself away from the doorjamb and walked toward me. "Give me a hug, baby, and I'll shut the door and let you sleep."
"Okay." More than anything, I wanted him to stay with me. I wanted to lay my head on his shoulder so I could feel safe while sleeping in a strange bed.
Things would be so much easier right now if he were human. He wasn't. He was High Demon, and we couldn't even kiss without complicating everything.
"Baby, you have the strangest look on your face." Kory pulled me into his arms.
"Why do our lives have to be so complicated?" I muffled against his chest.
"Shhh," he said, combing my hair with his fingers. "It'll all come right. You'll see."
* * *
Kordevik
At least the hotel had a bar. I tried to be as quiet as possible when I sneaked out of my room and shut the door. Lexsi didn't need to know that I wanted several stiff drinks before I even thought about sleeping. Lexsi was terrified of the bite—I could see it every time she thought about us together.
Why the fuck did a kiss have to be so messed up between us?
A kiss.
The first thing humans did when they liked each other.
No wonder High Demons were kept apart until their wedding. The whole mess was fucked up beyond fucking recognition.
"You look like a man with a story," the bartender set a double shot of bourbon in front of me.
"A story?" I shook my head at him. "I have a fucking set of encyclopedias."
* * *
Lexsi
I didn't say it, but Kory looked just as haggard as I did the following morning. Kell hadn't slept either, although he hid it well. I doubted he'd been able to see Opal past dinner—and he wanted to, I think. She'd gotten a call at the last minute, to attend an emergency meeting at the White House. She had to go, but got a driver to take us to our hotel.
Kory and I—we'd said good-night and shut the door between our rooms, when it was the last thing either of us wanted. If Kell were just as frustrated, then he had my sympathy.
"Ready for a plane ride to Texas?" The werewolf driver, Jorden Billings, was far too cheerful that early in the morning.
"You can sleep on the way," Kory lifted my hand and kissed it. "If you want to."
"I may have to," I said. "My brain is numb."
"Want coffee? We have time for Starbucks," Jorden grinned.
"I think we all need coffee," Kell replied.
* * *
Loftin Qualls' parents, in their eighties and richer than most people deserved, lived on the outskirts of Austin. They owned a ranch farther west, but chose to live closer to the city for health reasons.
Jorden explained that to us on the flight; Gerald and Anne Qualls weren't in the best of health—all their money couldn't buy younger bodies or better wellbeing. It could only make them more comfortable in their waning years.
Great. We're interviewing sick people, Kory growled in my head.
I felt as he did. A part of me understood how ill, elderly parents might come to make a decision concerning their incarcerated son; one that would release him while putting another in his place.
I wondered if they knew who'd been placed in Loftin's cell before the scheduled execution.
For now, I was grateful Loftin hadn't gone on another killing spree. It made me wonder if his parents knew where he was, or whether he'd been squirreled away by those who'd facilitated his escape.
If the latter were true, then Laurel and her Karathian counterparts had a torturing and killing machine at their disposal. Either way, it wasn't good.
"Baby, we'll get through this," Kory's hand gripped mine as the jet descended toward Austin-Bergstrom International Airport.
* * *
Kordevik
On the drive to the Qualls' home outside Austin, I watched Lexsi's face. She wasn't talking, but I understood Loftin Qualls' attack on a women's shelter still disturbed her. I had no idea what his parents would be like—they had to know their son was a monster.
Kell—he'd read about Qualls' conviction on the plane ride to Texas, which included files of material describing his victims. I'd discovered that Kell was a speed-reader—no surprise, since he was an old vampire.
What did surprise me was the way he'd accepted English as another language in his repertoire. I'd had to fumble my way through slang, idioms and colloquialisms for three months or more before feeling comfortable.
Kell had it already, and I could only salute his rapid adaptability.
"We're here," Jorden announced as he steered the car through a tall, metal gate. It was open because we had an appointment.
The wide, intricately carved front door opened before we could knock; a servant invited us into the massive home and asked if we wanted food or drink.
Jorden declined for all of us; I didn't want anything from anyone named Qualls. I knew Lexsi didn't, either. If I'd had my way, I'd have gone in with Kell, only, and we'd have done the questioning rather than putting Lexsi through this.
It's fine, Lexsi sent mindspeech. I want to know whether they're at the bottom of this and if they know where Loftin is, now. Off the record, remember?
That had been Opal's stipulation—that any information given by Loftin's parents would remain secret—they believed we wanted to ask questions about a copycat killer.
We were ushered into a downstairs sitting room, where Gerald and Anne were seated, waiting for us.
Behind them hung a painting of Gerald's father, who'd served in the state legislature. They were arming themselves against any accusations that could come from us, by dressing regally, jewelry included.
We were seated opposite them, much like an audience with royals. Frankly, I didn't care how much goddam money they had. Their son was a murderous lunatic, and they'd paid to get him out of jail.
That's when Lexsi's hand touched mine. We'll get through this, she reminded me.
Yeah. I wondered how long the royal couple's composure would last if my Thifilathi appeared and offered to take them to hell.
* * *
Lexsi
"Why do you think someone would copy your son's crimes?" I asked. I wanted to feel them out. If they didn't believe Loftin guilty, it would come out now.
It did.
"Loftin was convicted on purely circumstantial evidence," Gerald Qualls said immediately.
Lie.
"Do you have any idea who the real culprit was, then?" I asked.
"The police have files and files on possible suspects," Anne said.
Partial truth.
Her voice was rough—almost a gasp. She had emphysema, according to th
e reports. She'd chosen to meet us without her oxygen tank—it just didn't go well with her dress.
"It's my guess that whoever did the original murders killed those women in that shelter," Gerald insisted.
Lie.
"Where is Loftin now?" Kell broke in.
"Why, in Heaven," Anne snapped.
Big lie.
"Tell us the truth," Kell said, placing compulsion. "How much did you pay to get Loftin out of prison?"
"Two-hundred million, disguised as an investment," Gerald said immediately while Anne nodded.
"Where is Loftin now?" Kell asked.
"They took him. We had him in a safe place on our ranch, and guarded day and night. They took him." Anne wrung her hands.
"Is this before or after he killed those women in the shelter?" Kell demanded.
"After. He promised us he'd be good if we got him out. He did that," Anne wept. "That's why we sent him to the ranch. He came home as he always did, covered in blood and happy. We had to do something."
I wanted to vomit at her explanation. All along, they'd known their son was a psychotic murderer, and they'd done nothing to stop him.
"Where do you think he is?" Kell asked.
"I think he's in South America," Gerald answered. "That's where the investment was."
"I hope they're taking care of our boy," Anne continued to weep.
"Who died in his place?" I asked.
"Some homeless man, I think," Gerald said. "A drain on society. Deserved to die."
"I'm done." I stood and shook my head at two who'd become so wealthy that anyone else was expendable to them. Too bad the laws of state and country got in their and their son's way, most of the time.
Yes, they'd likely paid their way past many a smaller crime, but Loftin's murderous tendencies finally led to an arrest and conviction.
I didn't feel sorry for either of them.
"We can have you killed," Anne coughed as I turned to walk away.
"Try." Kory's smaller Thifilathi appeared before both of them. Anne coughed a shriek while Gerald scooted his chair back in alarm.
"You will forget you saw him this way, and you will never pay anyone to commit a crime again," Kell responded smoothly.
We walked out. Jorden, who'd waited outside the door and likely heard everything said with his sensitive ears, nodded to all of us and led us toward the door.
We'd see ourselves out, thank you very much.
Chapter 4
Lexsi
"So Qualls is in Peru, if my guess is correct," Kory said. Jorden had taken us to a restaurant in Austin for lunch. I wasn't hungry—meeting with Loftin's parents left me feeling queasy.
"You need this," Jorden came back to our table after a brief visit to the restaurant bar.
"What's that?" I asked when he set the bottle in front of me. "I don't drink beer," I added.
"It's hard cider. Crisp, sweet and alcoholic. I think you need at least two or six to get over what we just dealt with."
I sipped tentatively from the bottle. Jorden was right—the cider was good. If it would take the edge off, I was more than willing to drink it.
Kory sat so close beside me we could have been mistaken for one person at times—he knew I was upset.
"Want a taste?" I held the bottle up. Kory took it and drank half its contents.
"Good," he said. "Order more."
Jorden wasn't drinking—he was our designated herder/driver. He talked to Opal, too, while Kory, Kell and I sat at a table in an upscale restaurant at the airport and drank the bad taste of the Qualls away.
* * *
A second night in a hotel went as well as the first. When we arrived in D.C., Jorden informed us that we had a meeting scheduled with Opal the following morning. He didn't give particulars on the phone conversation he'd had with her, either.
"Do you think it has something to do with Loftin Qualls?" I asked Kory as we followed the carpeted hallway toward our connected rooms.
"Probably," he rolled his shoulders to get kinks out of them. We'd been stuck in chairs most of the day and I could tell it made him restless.
"Want to work out before we go to bed?" I asked.
He almost stopped walking as he considered my question. The alcohol we'd consumed had left our systems long ago—High Demon metabolisms tend to do that.
"Yeah," he said. "Let's see if the concierge has something we can wear to exercise."
They did—the hotel was equipped to handle visiting statesmen and foreign dignitaries, so of course they had something.
Clothes and shoes were delivered to our rooms quickly, too.
"Meet me downstairs," Kory said before closing his door to change.
Someday, I thought to myself, I want to be able to change clothes while he watches.
* * *
Kordevik
I'm certain she didn't intend for me to catch her thoughts, but I did. I almost didn't convince my cock to behave while I dressed in shorts and a tee. The athletic shoes delivered by the hotel were serviceable, but weren't what I would have chosen for myself.
It didn't matter. Lexsi wanted me. I wanted her. That's what mattered. I just had to convince her that the bite wouldn't be scary or awful, and that I was the High Demon she needed to spend the ages with.
When she walked into the exercise facility on the third floor, I was already lifting weights.
She went straight for the treadmill, to run off her frustrations.
"I'll give you a thousand dollars to take your shirt off."
I hadn't even noticed the woman who'd walked in after I'd been at it for half an hour. Deliberately, I allowed the four-hundred-pound weights I'd been lifting to drop to the floor with a clang as I turned toward her.
"I'll give you two seconds to leave me alone," I snapped at her. Most women would have recoiled at the anger in my voice. Not this one. She didn't even blink.
"You don't understand," she said, extending a card held between red-painted fingernails. "I'm a fight promoter. I can get you a high-paying job in less than a week."
"Lady," I growled at her, "I have a job."
"Something wrong?" Lexsi had gotten off the treadmill to join me.
"It's nothing," I said. "She offered a job. I declined."
"Oh. Are you the girlfriend?" Red nails turned toward Lexsi. "Your boyfriend here could be turning down millions in earnings as a wrestler."
"My boyfriend gets to make up his own mind," Lexsi said, her eyes narrowing as she frowned at red nails. "If he says no, he means it. Find somebody else."
"Is there a problem?" Kell walked in with Jorden. They'd come looking for us—had probably tried calling us in our rooms.
"I want to hire him," red nails jerked her head toward me.
"He has a job," Jorden pulled out his badge. Red nails' eyes widened. So that's what it took to get her attention—a threat from the authorities.
"My apologies," red nails held up a hand. The four of us watched her open the glass door of the facility and stalk through. I figured she'd have slammed the door shut, if it were possible. I released a pent-up sigh.
"That'll get your blood boiling late at night," Lexsi frowned, still staring at the door.
"Come on, you," I pulled her into the crook of my arm and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Let's get our exercise done, then listen to what Jorden has to say."
* * *
"I got this information after our interview with the Qualls," Jorden began. We sat at a table at the hotel bar, Lexsi's and my hair still damp from quick showers, while Jorden explained what he'd heard from Opal.
"Reports are coming out of Peru's border countries, with descriptions and images of women's bodies being dumped in remote places. The few photographs we've seen are of decomposing bodies, and without further evidence, we can't prove Loftin Qualls had a hand in it. Mind you, there haven't been any reports of missing women from those border countries, so these are likely from Peru."
"And with the new regime in power in Peru and no o
fficial information coming from there, this is all we have, isn't it?" Lexsi asked. She toyed with her napkin while waiting for the cocktail waiter to bring her a glass of cranberry juice.
"Yeah. The boss asked for permission to bring in some of our forensics teams, but we're still waiting for a response. She says that bodies of seals and other—well—creatures, are still washing up on nearby shores. I doubt Loftin is involved in that; we know it was going on in the Bay area before Loftin's miraculous escape."
"It's a Sirenali, you can bet on that," Lexsi snorted. "I saw pictures of the dead seals found in San Francisco Bay. The bites are roughly shaped like a human's mouth—but the sharp teeth," she shivered.
"We've seen the same thing," Jorden acknowledged. "The boss said the same word—Siren-what's-it."
"Sirenali," Lexsi repeated. "If you want to see a good one, ask Anita to change for you. You don't want to see a bad one," she added.
"The boss said something like that, too."
"We are dealing with at least two psychopathic killers, then," Kell said, his face expressionless, his words measured and even. "Sirenali love warmer, fresh waters and won't willingly go into cold saltwater. This one—he is ignoring the cold and salt his kind deplores, merely because he enjoys killing so much. A very dangerous thing. Tell me, Agent Billings, are there reports of missing sailors or fishermen in the same areas?"
"A few reports," Jorden rolled his shoulders, as if the information made him uncomfortable. "Mostly local fishermen in small, not-so-sturdy craft."
"Then he's turned to killing humans, too, and is clever enough to choose those whose absence could be explained easily enough."
"Yeah." Jorden wiped the sweat off his beer bottle with a thumb. I watched as a bead of moisture traveled down the bottle until it dispersed into the napkin beneath it.
"Cranberry juice," the waiter arrived and set Lexsi's drink in front of her. "Beer," he placed the bottle in front of me. "Anything else?" He was far too cheerful at midnight for my liking.
"We're good," Jorden handed him a credit card.
"I ran that woman's picture through our database," Jorden said when our waiter walked away. "The one who approached you in the gym?" His eyes locked with mine.
A Demon's Work Is Never Done: Latter Day Demons, Book 2 Page 5