Vengeance of the Demon: Demon Novels, Book Seven (Kara Gillian 7)

by Rowland, Diana

  I heard him sigh. Poor guy. I’d frustrated him.

  “Yes, ma’am, that is indeed your right,” he said, nice and calm. “Sorry to have troubled you.”

  “No hard feelings,” I said. “I know you’d do the same if our roles were reversed.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You have a good evening.”

  “You too, detective.”

  Exhaling, I disconnected. The simmering worry over the blurry photograph congealed into a thick dread that settled deep within my chest. Everything had consequences. I knew that. But damn, the timing of this one sure sucked ass.

  I dropped the phone onto the table then used the tip of the knife to pry the splinter from beneath my fingernail. New pain lanced through my hand, but it soon faded to a dull ache. Too bad I couldn’t excise my worry with equal ease.

  Surgery accomplished, I set the knife down and scowled at the table, even though I knew it didn’t deserve my ire. I’d been meaning to sand it down for ages and hadn’t. Consequences.

  At least I could still flip people off with that hand. Sometimes you simply had to focus on what was most important.

  Chapter 12

  Despite hellacious disruptions of the flows, I managed to bring the kehza Juke through without injury. This particular demon adored pistachios, and I tossed it a five-pound bag the instant we sealed our agreement. Juke let out a screech of unmistakable delight, then expertly split shells with its claws and munched on the nuts while I explained the plan. That done, Eilahn escorted it to the woods to wait until I gave the signal. I helped get food ready and pretended this was nothing more than an ordinary backyard cookout with friends. Because, y’know, I did that sort of thing so often.

  At five minutes before seven the security panel dinged. Bryce checked the camera. “He’s at the gate. We’re on.”

  “Excellent.” I grabbed a towel to wipe my hands. “Buzz him in, please. Y’all remember to play nice, y’hear?”

  Smile gone, Idris muttered something under his breath about No Promises and stalked out the back door. Bryce snorted.

  I rolled my eyes and headed out to the front porch in time to see Pellini pull up in a silver Chevy pickup to park beside the Malibu. He climbed out then fished a twelve-pack of beer off the front seat.

  “Glad you could make it,” I said with a smile.

  He nodded and cast his gaze around, taking in the surrounding woods as well as the mobile home situated fifty yards to the east of the house. If he saw any of the arcane protections, he didn’t react to them.

  “Nice place,” he said, starting up the steps. “Not what I expected.”

  “Thanks,” I said brightly, determined not to rise to any sort of bait during his visit. “It’s been in the family a long time. Come on inside. I’ll introduce you to a couple of friends of mine.”

  He followed me in and to the kitchen where I introduced him to Bryce and Idris. Bryce greeted him with a friendly smile and nice-to-meet-you, and Pellini responded in kind. Idris’s greeting was only a hair shy of surly, and to everyone’s relief he excused himself after the minimum length of time required to be sociable.

  “Jill will be over in a few minutes,” I told Pellini then grabbed a bowl of chips and pushed it into his hands. “Can you take these out to the table on the back porch? It’s a nice evening. We might as well enjoy it.”

  He seemed glad for something to do, and I followed him out with a vegetable tray, plates and napkins. I gestured toward the tree line. “Zack and Ryan built a kickass obstacle course through the woods a few months back. Feel free to indulge in ludicrous exercise if the mood strikes.”

  “Ain’t happenin’,” Pellini said with a snort. “But on the off chance I head that way, feel free to knock some sense into me.”

  Jill wandered over with Steeev, and Pellini relaxed more with the presence of another familiar face. After Jill introduced him to Steeev she started a light chat about a silly case they’d both recently worked. With devious finesse a dirty politician would envy, she skillfully dodged any opportunity for Pellini to pose questions about Steeev. Curiosity flickered in his eyes, but he remained polite and on topic.

  Bryce handed Pellini a beer then excused himself to go tend the grill. Idris stalked farther out into the backyard and onto the nexus. Even though the entire event was a setup to evaluate Pellini, everyone appeared to be having a good time. Apart from Idris, of course. If Pellini suspected anything, he didn’t show it. A wave of guilt struck me at the subterfuge, but we were in too deep for second thoughts. A few minutes later Bryce returned to the table with a platter of grilled sausage, chicken, hamburgers, corn, potatoes and, apparently, anything else grillable he’d found in the kitchen.

  I piled sausage, chicken, and corn onto my plate, while Pellini built a hamburger. Halfway through my chicken I felt power stir on the nexus—a buzzing vibration in my gut and head. I shot a quick glance toward Idris to confirm him as the source. Pellini put his hamburger down, a frown tugging at his mouth. He definitely sensed it. I was right about that much at least. Steeev touched Jill’s arm in a prearranged “time to skedaddle” signal. Jill heaved up from her chair and gave everyone a bright smile as she patted her tummy.

  “Sorry to bail, y’all, but the bean says she’s had enough,” Jill announced to my relief. Best she wasn’t around if things got interesting.

  A chorus of “goodnight” arose, and Steeev escorted her back to the mobile home. The instant the door closed behind her the nexus flared. I held my breath as a filament of sapphire energy shot toward Pellini’s feet with the speed of a coachwhip snake. Pellini jolted out of his chair with a choked cry of alarm. He stumbled back a step as it struck him then, plain as day, he kick-pushed the potency away.

  “What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, breathing hard. Idris withdrew the filament, but stood tense and watchful, still assessing. Bryce continued to calmly eat his mashed potatoes but monitored, ready for damn near anything.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I got to my feet. “I had to be sure of what I saw at the plantation.”

  Confusion clouded Pellini’s face. “What? What did you see?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You physically manipulated potency.”

  “I did?” He paused, frowned. “You mean by the gazebo?”

  “Yes! You deflected it. And again just now. How the hell do you know how to do that?”

  To my surprise his ears turned red with embarrassment. “It’s, um, part of what I’ve wanted to talk to you about for the past few weeks.”

  Few weeks? Shit. Amber Palatino Gavin’s body had been found a few weeks ago. “The murder scene at the eighteen wheeler. You asked me out for a beer.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded once, stiff and uncomfortable. “That scene was bad.”

  “Yes, it was.” I sat and hoped he would as well. “I never pegged you for someone who could see the arcane.” Idris stepped onto the porch and took up a position behind Pellini, glowering and with his arms folded over his chest.

  Pellini glanced at Idris then sat heavily. “The arcane,” he said, as though trying out a new word. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to see it twenty-four-seven.”

  “How long have you been able to see the arcane?” I asked. Casual. Friendly.

  He shrugged. “As long as I can remember. Used to be I could choose to see it, but not anymore. It’s always there.”

  Perpetual othersight, like in the demon realm. On Earth I had to consciously switch to othersight. Or did I? Was that true anymore? I’d spent so much time in the demon realm I felt blind without othersight, so always had it engaged. Experimenting, I tried to not see the potency flows around us. And tried again. Though the flows appeared faded without othersight, they were still easily perceptible.

  “So, why did you want to talk to me?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Because I can’t shut it out anymore,” he said, desperation thickening his voice. “Not for the past couple of years. And then that murder . . . I needed to shut it out, but I couldn’t.”
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br />   I shook my head. “I still don’t get why you thought I’d be of any help.”

  One side of his mouth twitched. “It was all the little marks you left on your door or your desk,” he said. “I realized you could sense it, too.”

  Little marks. Wards. Aversions to deter coworkers from raiding my chocolate drawer. An alarm on the door to warn me if anyone went into my office. In a million billion years, I never would’ve imagined that Pellini, of all people, could see them.

  “Why is everything stronger now?” he asked. “Why can’t I shut it out?”

  “A lot of shit is happening,” I said remaining vague for the moment. “How long have you been able to move potency?”

  Pellini exhaled. “Since my senior year in high school.”

  “What happened then? Did someone start teaching you?”

  He cleared his throat. “Never talked to anyone about this stuff before,” he confessed, then added, “I mean, no people.”

  Idris and I both tensed. “What non-people have you talked to about this?” I asked, doing my best to remain outwardly composed.

  Pellini licked his lips before speaking. “Shit. I had an imaginary friend when I was little.” A flush darkened his face. “I called him . . .” He hesitated then took a deep breath and plunged on. “I called him Mr. Sparkly because that’s what he looked like. For as long as I can remember, until I was in second grade, he’d find me when I was in the sandpit in my backyard and take me away.”

  “Wait. Away?” I asked. “Where to?” Maybe Mr. Sparkly was just an ordinary creeper?

  He chewed his lower lip. “The place I saw him wasn’t like Earth,” he said. “It was like that.” To my shock he gestured toward the nexus. “Energy and colors and light.”

  So much for my Ordinary Creeper theory. Idris remained perfectly still, but the intensity of his gaze could have drilled a hole through Pellini’s head.

  “And it was always in your backyard?” I asked, suspicion forming as he nodded. I was willing to bet Fuzzykins’ non-existent tail that Pellini’s sandpit had contained a valve. “Can you describe this Mr. Sparkly?”

  Pellini’s eyes went distant in memory. “Like a man made out of a billion pieces of crystal. Long hair. Purple eyes.”

  Shit. Fuck. Son of a bitch. Purple eyes. Violet eyes. Kadir fit the description of Mr. Sparkly right down to the Creepy part. Hostility rolled off Idris. Holy shit, was I ever glad I had the kehza standing by as physical backup in case the situation went tits up. Not that I was sure it could get much more screwy after Pellini’s revelation of a lifelong association with the shrewdest of the Mraztur.

  I took a few seconds to keep my composure intact. “What happened to Mr. Sparkly?”

  Pellini shrugged. “He stopped showing up to take me away the summer after I turned seven. The last few times didn’t last very long, and everything was more, um, transparent, I guess.” He frowned. “He said it was harder for him to reach me, but I didn’t understand why. He didn’t come back for ages.”

  I itched to ask Pellini when Kadir returned and to where, but first we needed to get him assessed so that we knew what we were up against. “And you’re hoping I can do what?” I asked. Under the table I sent a quick text asking Eilahn to bring the kehza out. “Explain all this? Partner up with you? Teach you more?”

  “Partner up? No. No!” He shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Why can’t I stop seeing and feeling?” He gave me a look full of pleading. “I just want everything to get back to normal where I can shut it off.”

  A rustling of leaves was the only warning before the kehza bounded across the lawn toward Pellini with great sweeps of its wings.

  “Shit!” He jerked to his feet, eyes locked on the creature headed straight for him. The kehza’s claws dug furrows in the grass as it stopped at the base of the steps. Growl-hissing, it leaped to the porch, broad nostrils flaring as it took in Pellini’s scent.

  Pellini stood motionless, eyes wide as dinner plates. He didn’t appear scared though.

  “It needs to touch you,” I told him. “That’s all.”

  The kehza moved closer, but to my shock Pellini stepped forward to rub the edge of its wing—the equivalent of scratching a dog behind the ears.

  “Chu,” he murmured, doubling my shock. “Chu” was a demon greeting.

  “Needs to touch me?” Pellini said without taking his eyes from the kehza. “Why?”

  I stared at the kehza and then at Pellini. A kid meeting up with Kadir in interdimensional space was one thing. Familiarity with physical demons took it to a new level. And this was Pellini! Asshole. Rude and obnoxious. Ordinary. “How the hell do you know how to interact with demons?”

  “Demons?” He glanced at me with a frown even as the demon placed its clawed hand on his forearm. “You mean—” He nodded toward the kehza.

  “Yes, creatures like this one,” I began, but Idris had reached his limit. He took a step forward, hands clenched at his sides.

  “Step away from the kehza and sit down,” he ordered, voice harsh.

  Pellini pivoted to face Idris, shoulders tensing at the overt hostility. Though Idris didn’t appear to be armed, Pellini no doubt sensed he had the potential to be dangerous. He lifted his hand from the kehza and took a slow step back. I signaled to the demon, and it moved away from Pellini to crouch by my side.

  “Dahnk,” it said to me, settling its wings close on its back.

  I murmured acknowledgment, weirdly relieved. “Dahnk” meant “not” in demon. In other words, Pellini was not a summoner, and Idris’s glower confirmed he’d heard the verdict. I pulled a hunk of sausage off the platter and offered it to the kehza with a murmur of thanks. It growled and bounded to the porch rail with its prize.

  “Maybe I should go,” Pellini said, wary.

  “I’m sorry about the sudden hostility,” I said and wished Idris would crank it down a few fucking notches. “But you come out of the blue and do—” I waggled my hands in an over-the-top copy of how he’d batted the potency away. “I’ve been training a decade and can’t do anything like that. You’ve raised a whole lot of questions that we need answers to.”

  For all his faults, Pellini wasn’t stupid. He rubbed at his brow in apparent frustration but sat down. “I bet I have way more questions than y’all do,” he said. “But as to how the hell I know about demons, Mr. Sparkly came back when I was seventeen, and right after that a few demons began to visit regularly. Kuktok and Sehkeril mostly, but there were a couple of others, too.”

  Sehkeril. One of Kadir’s reyza. That clinched it. “Whose side are you on?”

  For the first time, Pellini looked truly flummoxed. “Side?”

  “Your Mr. Sparkly is—” I was reluctant to say “enemy” because I didn’t think that was a correct definition of Kadir’s role in all of this crap, “—not an ally of ours. And there are other arcane practitioners who will do, and have done, horrific things to further their cause. The murder victim in the eighteen wheeler? That’s the level of stakes we’re dealing with.”

  “I don’t know anything about ‘sides,’” he said. “There’s nothing going on with me and the demons and Mr. Sparkly now. He cut me off twenty years ago.” Anger flashed across his face combined with a shimmer of loss. “Nothing,” he repeated, voice strained.

  “Why did he cut you off?” I asked. “What happened?”

  Pellini spread his hands. “Dunno,” he said. “After he returned, every third full moon he’d take me to the between-space. This went on for seven years, but that last day he was late, and when he showed up I could hardly see him. He didn’t explain, just reached out and—” He swallowed and rubbed the center of his chest. “I don’t know what he did, but it felt as if he ripped my heart out.” His voice dropped, turned hollow. “He said, ‘hide,’ then vanished. After that, everything fell apart.”

  Idris marched off the porch and back onto the nexus. I didn’t know what he was up to now, but at least he wasn’t glaring holes through
Pellini anymore. I suspected Kadir had extracted an arcane implant from Pellini when he told him to hide. Whatever the purpose of the implant, I could only suppose that it would have drawn unwanted attention to Pellini.

  “Who were you hiding from?” I asked.

  “No idea,” he said. “He never told me about enemies.”

  My brow furrowed. “And you haven’t seen him for twenty years?”

  “That’s right. I kept to myself. He told me to hide, and who the hell would I talk to about that shit anyway?” He paused. “Then you came along with your little marks.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He took a deep breath. “I didn’t know what I was hiding from. Or who.” He picked at a pulled thread on his trousers. “But then shit got intense and, well, here I am.”

  I remained silent while I considered everything. Why hide? What happened with Kadir twenty years ago? “You never asked Mr. Sparkly for his real name?”

  “Of course I did,” Pellini replied. “He told me names have power and it was dangerous for me to know it.” He shrugged. “I was a kid. Not knowing his real name made the whole thing even cooler.”

  I sat back and regarded him. It was, of course, possible this was all an elaborate scheme to plant him as a mole. But, if that was the case, it made no sense to freak us out by mentioning Kadir. Besides, I’d known Pellini for years. If he was a mole, he’d been put in place long before I finished my training as a summoner. Kadir had been grooming Pellini for a reason, but what? Regardless, Katashi and company would be more than happy to scoop him up and use him against us.

  Pellini grabbed his beer and took a long swig. “Who the hell are y’all? And what kind of fucked up business ends up with a ritual rape and murder?”

  “Idris and I are both summoners,” I said. “What that means is that we have the ability to open a portal between this world and the one where the demons and Mr. Sparkly and others like him reside.” My gaze went to Idris, and I lowered my voice. “His last name is Palatino.”

  Comprehension dawned on Pellini’s face. “I’m not usually so slow on the uptake,” he muttered. “There aren’t that many guys named Idris hanging around. The murder victim was his sister, and you were looking for him because he’d gone missing.” He eyed me. “What was the deal with that?”