David laughed. “And you’re quite easily impressed!” He gave me a wink and then headed back across the street to the coffee shop.
Tracy smiled. “The perfect man is one who brings you coffee? Makes me wonder how the men in your life usually treat you.”
Men? Or demonic lords? I tried to cover my reaction by taking another sip, but he took note of my sudden reticence and grimaced.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s none of my business, and it was a dumb thing to say.”
“No, no!” I hurried to reassure him. “It’s all right.” I made myself chuckle. “I’m not really the ‘shower with gifts’ kind of chick, and that’s fine with me.”
“Well, it looks like I get to write the report for this nonsense.” He lifted his chin toward the two vehicles.
I peered into the open door of the woman’s car. It looked like she’d recently had it detailed. There were vacuum marks on the passenger side carpet, and the dashboard had a slight sheen of Armor All. An air freshener wafer tucked into the console sent the scent of chemical pineapple through the vehicle.
I spied a dark red Coach handbag on the floorboard, wedged under the dash. “Her purse is here.” I set my coffee on the roof of the car, and snagged it out. “Least I can do is help you inventory all this.”
“Appreciated,” he said.
After this I’d need to make some phone calls to my rank to see if I could score another car. I scowled as I dug through the woman’s purse. Would I even be able to get a new one issued on a Sunday? I was most likely screwed until Monday.
I found the woman’s wallet and removed the drivers license. “Her name is Evelyn Stark, and her address is.…” I trailed off. Son of a bitch.
“Kara?” I glanced up to see Tracy with his pen poised above his notepad and a frown on his face. I passed the driver’s license over to him, fighting hard to maintain something resembling composure.
“Sorry,” I managed “I know her. Knew her. I mean…I knew who she was.”
His brow furrowed in concern. “Friend of yours?”
I shook my head, chilled to the bone despite my coat. “No.” I took an unsteady breath. “No. Not at all. She’s the drunk driver who killed my dad.”
Chapter 4
I headed back over to the coffee shop after Tracy assured me he could handle the rest of the report just fine. I made a token protest, but he must have seen how dazed I felt and gently told me to get the fuck off his scene. The sun was making another valiant effort to break through the clouds, and the wind had died down a bit. Traffic had picked up some, and I paused at the street, waiting for a break. A silent ambulance went by. I knew it probably wasn’t the same one that had taken Evelyn Stark away, but I watched it continue on down the street.
Would I have given her CPR if I’d known who she was?
No. I let out a shaking breath. I’m not that good a person. I couldn’t get back at the ovarian cancer that had taken my mother from me when I was only eight, but I could sure as hell focus plenty of rage and grief on the woman who’d taken my dad three years later. When I first began learning about demons, I’d asked Aunt Tessa to send a demon after Evelyn Stark. Tessa utterly refused to aid me—not saying that such a desire was wrong but, instead, explaining how that sort of arrangement with a demon would be fraught with all sorts of peril because of their complex code of honor. Besides, she pointed out, the woman was serving a prison sentence, and it would be quite a tricky matter for a demon to get to her.
But the simple fact that my aunt had understood my pain and not dismissed my desire for revenge as petty or wrong had endeared her to me more than anything else ever could have. And by the time I became a summoner in my own right, and could potentially carry through with such a desire, my lust for that sort of revenge had faded.
But, no, I wouldn’t have given Evelyn Stark CPR and gotten my hands all bloody.
The ambulance turned the corner. I shook myself out of the grim memories and made myself face the other thought clanging around in my head. Barry Landrieu and Evelyn Stark died on the same day, both with nosebleeds. I knew there was a connection between them, but I had no idea why anyone besides me would want to kill them. Hell, even I hadn’t wanted them dead. Not anymore, at least.
I started to turn back toward the street, but movement on the roof of the PD building pulled my attention. Had the shadow of the AC unit moved? I held my breath, watching the shadow as my pulse thudded unsteadily. That was the graa’s leaping-off perch this morning. Could there be another?
After a few seconds I let my breath out. No. Just my eyes playing tricks, and my paranoia working double-time. The sun was losing its battle again; the moving shadow had probably been a cloud.
A chill walked down my back, and I forced myself to look away. Too much weird shit in one day was making me jumpy as hell. I glanced back to see if Tracy was looking at me, but he was peering through the windshield of the Camry in an effort to get the VIN. Quickly shifting into othersight, I extended my senses as far as possible, but nothing untoward leaped out at me. No sign of any demon. No whisper of arcane power. Only the unfinished chain of sigils snaking around the PD building.
Letting out an unsteady breath, I hurried across the street and into the coffee shop. A table near the window gave me a good view of the PD and the parking lot. The coffee in my cup was still plenty warm, and I took a good long slug as I scanned the area. Nothing seemed out of place—other than the car that had attempted to intersect mine.
Still unsettled, I pulled out my phone and commenced with the various calls I needed to make. First was to my sergeant, Cory Crawford, to let him know that I was—again—in need of a new vehicle, though at least there was a possibility that my current one was fixable. My last car had gone into the Kreeger River when I’d been shoved off a bridge by a soul-stealing psychopath. My life was seldom dull.
I was getting ready to call Eilahn when I saw her pull in front of the coffee shop on her motorcycle. It was actually my aunt’s bike, but she hadn’t ridden it in months and was quite willing to allow Eilahn to use it—a relief to me since Tessa didn’t have a motorcycle endorsement on her license. Neither did Eilahn, for that matter, but since all of the demon’s identification were forgeries, it was a bit of a moot point. Besides, since Eilahn was in human form, she needed a way to get around, and the motorcycle gave her the most flexibility.
Eilahn parked the bike, pulled off her helmet and shook her hair out in a perfect imitation of a shampoo commercial. Sometimes I wondered if she did the drop-dead gorgeous thing just to annoy me. The level of conversation in the café dipped briefly as she strode in—wearing leather jacket and boots and holding a motorcycle helmet in her hand. Because, y’know, she didn’t look like enough of a hot chick already.
She dropped smoothly into the chair across from me and set the helmet on the floor by her feet. “Something’s wrong,” I said, then glanced around to make sure there was no one close enough to hear what we were saying. Eilahn gave a slight smile, then traced a small glyph in the center of the table. Curious, I took a quick peek in othersight. It held a dull glow, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything. It certainly wasn’t a protective ward—at least not any kind that I’d seen before.
“Discourages eavesdroppers,” she explained. “You and I can hear and understand each other fine, but anyone else will hear only mumbles, or snatches of phrases that make little sense.”
“That is too cool,” I breathed, staring at the glyph as I tried to memorize how she’d created it.
A faint flicker of pride crossed her face. “I will teach it to you later, if you wish. But for now we are free to discuss…matters.”
I sipped my coffee as I tried to gather my thoughts. “There’s a connection between the victim out at the nature center and the woman who ran into my car.”
“I assume you mean more than the nosebleeds before their deaths?”
I let out a slow breath. “Yes. So I guess that means she didn’t make it.”
<
br /> “She was dead before you could even lay hands upon her.”
I didn’t feel any elation or relief at the knowledge. I was more pleased that since she’d been taken to the hospital, and it wasn’t a homicide, I didn’t have to investigate her death. That was for the hospital and the Coroner’s Office now.
“What killed her?” I asked.
“That I do not know,” she replied. “I sensed the freeing of the essence, but I cannot tell the cause.”
“I knew both of the victims.”
She tilted her head, eyes on me. “You do not seem grieved at the passing of either.”
“Probably because I’m not,” I replied. I sat back and tunneled both hands through my hair. “Fuck. Barry Landrieu gave me heroin when I was fourteen, and I came within inches of dying of an overdose. And Evelyn Stark,” I cocked my head toward the window and the view of the aftermath of the accident, “was driving drunk when she crossed the center line on Serenity Road and killed my dad.”
Her eyes darkened with sympathy. “You were not in the car?”
I shook my head. “My dad got a call from a client who needed some papers notarized. He was a lawyer,” I explained. “He knew he was only going to be a few minutes, so he left me at home while he went to meet the guy.…” I’d been so pleased that he thought that, at the ripe age of eleven, I was old enough to stay home by myself. When he still hadn’t come home after two hours, I’d been worried sick and terrified to call the police because I thought I’d be getting him into trouble. It had been another hour before the knock on the door came.
“And then your aunt had the care of you,” Eilahn murmured. “Which is how you learned to summon.”
“Yep.” I took another sip of coffee to give me a few more seconds to push the unpleasant memories back. “Not the way I would have planned it, given a choice.”
“A tragic path indeed,” she agreed, brow faintly furrowed. Then she spread her hands on the table and looked out the window. “And now these two people who did you harm both die on the day a demon attacked you.”
“Oh, and I used to date the witness who found the first body,” I added.
“Interesting.”
I let out a small bark of laughter. “That’s one word for it. I was thinking of a description more along the lines of ‘fucking shit damn it all to hell this is a confusing mess plus it means there’s another summoner who’s trying to fuck my life up.’” The last time I’d been looking for another summoner had been during my investigation of the Symbol Man murders, and that case had not exactly been wrapped up nice and neatly. Sure, the Symbol Man had been stopped, but I’d ended up dead for a while, and my aunt had ended up in an arcane coma that had taken me weeks to get her out of.
Her full lips twitched. “‘Interesting’ is more concise.”
“Stick with me a few more weeks, and I’ll have you cursing like a pro.” Then I made a face. “Do you know of an easy way to find a summoner?” I asked, looking over at her with undisguised hope. “Are there any demons who can, um, sniff them out or something?”
She raised one dark eyebrow at me as amusement flashed in her eyes. “No.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her firm answer, even though it dashed my briefly shining hopes. “Okay,” I pressed, “is there a way to ask other demons who’s been summoning them?”
She pursed her lips, appearing to seriously consider the question. “In theory, yes, but in practice, it is nigh impossible,” she said. “The demons are divided into numerous factions. It is a constantly shifting dynamic, affected by a number of factors, including which lord they serve. Simply answering a question would require payment on your part.”
I winced at that. Summoning a demon wasn’t like calling forth a genie who’d be at your beck and call no matter what the request. A summoning was a contest and a contract—first to show you were worthy to even call the demon by the level of skill used to create the portal and maintain the protections, and then to negotiate the terms of whatever service the summoner desired of the demon. Everything had a price and failure to abide by the terms—for either party—was a terrible breach of honor. If the summoner was the erring party, they usually ended up dead. There were no bad demons—only poorly worded contracts.
“So, I guess there aren’t too many pollsters in the demon realm,” I said glumly.
A smile curved her lips. “It is possible that you could pose the question and accept free response. However, that has its own drawback.”
“I might tip off this summoner that I’m looking for him or her.”
“Precisely.”
I let out a sigh. I didn’t know of any other summoners in the area, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. As far as I knew there were only a few hundred in the world, but even that was simply a slightly educated guess. We tended to be pretty private about our activities, for obvious reasons.
“Maybe the presence of the demon had nothing to do with the two deaths.” I paused in consideration. “Maybe it’s all a giant coincidence.”
“I doubt that,” Eilahn said, and I had to chuckle. She wasn’t the type to snow me with pointless reassurances or allow me to wallow in comfortable delusions. Usually that was a good thing. But there were times when I could have used some pointless reassurances and some delusion-wallowing. “If it had wanted to kill you,” she added, “it likely would have been a harder fight.”
So why the fuck hadn’t it? My arm still ached like a bitch where the damn thing had grabbed me. Had it been trying to do something else? Something Eilahn had managed to thwart? I had to fight the urge to thunk my head down onto the table. Fortunately the pinging of my phone signaling a text message distracted me from thoughts of self-injury. I read it with a growing sense of relief. “Ha! Since I’m on call Sarge is arranging for me to get another car.” It would probably be a total pile of crap, but it would be a pile of crap for which I didn’t have to pay a note or gas or insurance.
I stood and drained the last of my coffee. “I’m going to walk down to the motor pool and get my new wheels,” I told Eilahn.
“I will walk with you,” she said. “Too much is happening. I am unsettled.”
That was the first time I’d ever heard the demon admit to anything less than total confidence. There went the last of my comfortable delusions.
Chapter 5
The motor pool for the Beaulac PD was only a few blocks away. Well within walking distance. We’d barely made it past the PD building when we heard an eager shout from behind us.
“Kara! Ellen!”
We turned to see Officer Tim Daniels trotting up, wearing a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “I found her!”
I looked at him blankly. “Found who?”
“Fuzzykins!” His grin widened, if that was even possible. “Wait right here! She’s in my car.”
He took off at a jog. I felt rooted to the spot. “Okay,” I said. “You get to break his heart and tell him it’s the wrong cat.”
The demon snorted. “The fuck I will.”
I had to laugh. She was a fast learner.
Less than a minute later Tim returned, using both hands to carry a large cat carrier. A low throbbing growl began to emanate from it as he approached. “I had to come back by the station to fix my timecard,” he said, breathless and exuberant. “And I was real worried about her being out in this cold and snow, so I tried to think like a cat. Like, where would I go to be warm, y’know?” He set the carrier down. The growl changed pitch briefly, and I could see some sort of creature shifting within. “Then I remembered what you said about the turkey, and so I said to myself, ‘Self, if you were a cat who liked turkey and wanted a warm place, you’d probably end up over by Kelly’s Deli.’”
“Um.” I swallowed and tried again. “Are you sure it’s the right cat?”
Chuckling, he crouched and peered inside the container. “Great big calico Manx, right? And it’s a female. I checked, just to be sure, even though male calicos are pretty darn rare.”
<
br /> “You’re kidding,” I blurted, staring at him. No way he’d found a cat matching my random description. I didn’t even dare look at Eilahn.
He gave an earnest nod. “It’s true! It’s a genetic thing with the way the X-chromosomes carry the coat color.” He shrugged, ducked his head almost shyly. “I like biology.”
I decided not to clarify what I thought he was kidding about. Slowly I lowered myself to peer into the carrier. I saw plenty of teeth and narrow-slitted eyes as it hissed and spat. But beyond that I could see calico fur. Nor was there any sign of a tail.
“That’s Fuzzykins, right?” He was so damn proud of himself. And I could hardly blame him. And what the hell was I supposed to say? It was the goddamn cat I’d described. This was getting ridiculous. Just how many coincidences was I going to encounter today? I could only hope to hell that most of these events truly were pure happenstance. Or maybe I simply needed to go back to bed and start this day over.
“Yes,” I heard myself saying. “That’s Fuzzykins.” I mustered a weak smile. “That’s a good Fuzzykins. Good kitty.”
Fuzzykins gave me a fuck you glare accompanied by a I-want-to-claw-your-face-off hiss. I quickly stood. “Um…she must be traumatized from her time on the street.” Great. A feral fucking cat. What the hell was I supposed to do with this thing?
Eilahn crouched and peered into the carrier. To my shock the growl stopped and the cat gave a perfectly normal mrow? The demon smiled and stuck her fingers between the wires of the carrier door. I wasn’t worried about her fingers getting bitten off—not with demon-fast reflexes, but apparently Eilahn didn’t have to worry about that. The damn creature rubbed her cheek against Eilahn’s fingers and started up a purr that shook the carrier.
Eilahn turned her gaze up to me—no longer the confident, kickass demon, but this time a hopeful eager child with a “can I keep it, pleeeeeeease?” expression on her face. I blinked in surprise. This was a side of her I’d never seen before. I hoped she didn’t want to eat it.
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