Kali Sweet Series, Three Urban Fantasy Novels (Boxed Set)

by Misty Evans

  “Maybe you should call Damon and have him check it out instead.”

  Cole, who was already heading to the kitchen exit, snorted. He knew I would never run to our boss and ask him to hold my hand.

  But I saw the worry in Neve’s eyes and knew I needed to reassure her. “I’m the best one to handle this, and I can handle it now that I’m prepared.”

  She shook her head, but conceded. “Ten minutes. No longer.”

  Back downstairs and standing in front of door number six, my demon gnashed her teeth. The brutality of the magic done inside had ruffled her feathers and she was itching to lash out. But what exactly had been done? It made me antsy and ready to take out the entire building. Since I would need my demon when I entered the room, I didn’t try to calm her, only dug down and kept a tight hold on the magical leash I had around her neck.

  Volante’s handle slid into my palm, cool and reassuring. I nodded to Cole. “Let’s try this again.”

  “I hate this freaky shit. Your demon under control?”

  “No promises. If I do go darkside, get out and call Damon.”

  “Your demon comes out to play —” he waggled his brows at me, “—I’m staying.”

  We stared at the closed door, neither one of us wanting to go inside. Another of those skin-crawling cries rent the air somewhere off to my left. Touching my ring fingers and thumbs together, I raised my protective magic, something I should have done before I touched the wall the last time. Volante vibrated from the charge, practically jumping out of my hand with eagerness. The barrier resisted my magic as I laid a hand on the door, but the resistance was easy to overcome.

  “Is it Maria?” Cole whispered. He knew about my past with the queen, knew I’d taken revenge on her for all the six-hundred and sixty-five humans and supernaturals she’d made me torture and kill. I was a kid then, living at the Italian court under her reign.

  The door gave up nothing but a wailing energy, as if it wished it could run from the building. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

  Chapter Seven

  Someone had tortured Fielder before killing him and done so with exacting deliberation.

  Once I tapped into the energy on my terms, I found the air vibrated with the presence of the one who’d done the nasty work, but the evil was dissipating fast. Whatever demon had hacked Fielder’s insides to pieces was long gone.

  That thought didn’t excite me. First, because the lingering magic had still been strong enough earlier to trap me just from touching the wall, and, second, because the demon was now cruising Chicago for its next meal.

  Third—if I let myself go there—was the fact this was a classic Maria move. Carnage that seemed directed at me, as if she knew I was headed to see Fielder that night and had left me a present.

  Or maybe Maddy was right and I was paranoid or self-centered enough to think everything had to do with me. But I’d seen Maria’s face behind the sparkling witch. I’d felt her unique brand of magic when I’d reached into the ground to get a read on Fielder’s death.

  “Do you think I’m paranoid?” I asked as Cole and I walked around the body, avoiding the spreading blood. “You know, in the hey, the world revolves around me kind of way?”

  “You’re a demon. Comes with the territory.” He flipped over the mattress on the bed to look under it. “Paranoia keeps us alive.”

  True fact, that. I had Nocts and vamps who wanted to kill me, and an assortment of other supernaturals who would be quite happy if I was dead and off their asses.

  The lack of light in the room made it too hard to look for obvious clues. I flicked my fingers at the high ceiling and a caged fluorescent light sprang to life.

  “Look.” Cole pointed at the far wall.

  Blood dotted the concrete in a poor imitation of a Jackson Pollack canvas.

  As we both stared at the seemingly random splatters, the dots started to form patterns. At least to my eyes. Patterns that created ancient runes I was all too familiar with.

  My demon gnashed her teeth some more and Volante strained in my hand.

  Another minute of staring and I stepped as far back as I could, assess the bigger picture the blood splatters created. I pointed at the outline. “That’s the witch from tonight.”

  “What witch?”

  “The one at the club making googly eyes at you. Our killer is an artist apparently, rendering the witch’s features here in blood.”

  Cole stepped back with me, tilting his head from side to side. “All I see is blood.”

  And then my overactive imagination made the witch’s features come to life and look right at me.

  Maria, my brain insisted. Volante shivered, wanting to strike out at the picture and wipe the smirk off the face depicted there.

  Maria or not, that witch was in a world of trouble and she probably didn’t even realize it. Or maybe she was happy to house Maria’s spirit. The powerful ancient succubus could be making it worth her while.

  She’d been at the club eyeing Cole. Who was she and what was she up to? “Snap a picture of the blood splatter and send it to JR.”

  Cole played around with his cell, doing what I’d asked. A minute later, my phone rang and JR asked, “What do you want me to do with this, boss?”

  “Can you make out a face or anything else from the blood splatter? Runes, maybe?”

  “I can see some sort of rune here and there, but I’m not seeing a face. I’ll connect the dots digitally and see what comes up.”

  “Once you get a face, find out who it belongs to and where she lives. I may need to pay her a visit.”

  “You got it.”

  Cole examined the wall again. “You want me to call Damon with this?”

  The killer was supernatural, not human, but Fielder had been a well-known basketball player. Neve couldn’t cover up what had happened, only control what was reported. If we weren’t all careful with this one, Fielder’s death would make national headlines and a whole lot of humans would be sniffing around. Neve could get into trouble. Cole and I could as well.

  The Bridge Institute had friends in the police department. Some were supes who covered for us when this sort of thing went down. In all my years in America, I’d never had to report a crime with so many repercussions, and while I was determined to find the killer myself and exact justice, I was equally as eager to stay out of the human investigation.

  I nodded at Cole to call Damon. While he gave our boss the deets, I noticed Fielder’s body was no longer glowing with Marvin’s spirit. Damn it. One more problem to add to the list.

  I left the room, wandered down the hallway. Plenty of other doors lining both sides. Marvin had probably found a new body to possess.

  “Marvin?” The evil inside Fielder’s room was definitely not from Marvin’s spirit. If anything, the ghost was hiding, scared witless.

  A single light lit the end of the hall along with the glow from an exit sign above a door. Opening my senses in hopes of picking up on Marvin or any other nonhuman entity hanging around, I noticed nothing but a small reception desk with a scattering of holiday decorations.

  Focusing on each of the doors as I walked down the hallway, I felt more than saw a presence out of the corner of my eye dart from shadow to shadow. “Marvin?”

  Nothing.

  And then, a faint wisp of air crossed my right cheek. The scent of old paper, like the kind that drifted out of Damon’s ancient books in his personal library, tickled my nose. Hmm. “Marvin, or whoever you are, if you saw what happened here tonight, you need to talk to me.”

  Silence. A creeping silence, as if someone was closing in on me one slow footstep at a time.

  I turned in a circle, scanning and searching but could see only dense shadows and dark shapes. The scent grew stronger and gooseflesh rose on my arms. Volante reacted to my increased anxiety, tightening on my arm. I released her into my hand, preparing for what, I wasn’t sure.

  Was Marvin playing with me or was there something else here? Some leftover evil fr
om the killer? I stood in place, closed my eyes and let my demon rise.

  Before she climbed up my spine, my phone blared, much too loudly in the silence. I flinched, then cursed myself for being so jumpy.

  Digging the phone out of my cape, I punched the connect button without looking at the caller ID. “What is it? I’m a little busy.”

  Chloe’s syrupy sweet Southern Tempter demon voice poured through the receiver into my ear. “Well, sugar, you better get unbusy. We got a problem on our hands.”

  “Chloe, I’m sorry I didn’t call you earlier…”

  Something hard and unforgiving whacked me in the back of the head. Fireworks exploded behind my eyes. I pitched forward, but before I could lock my knees, a second heavy whack sent me sprawling to the floor.

  “Kali?” Chloe’s voice sounded miles away as I lay there, fighting the pain and trying to get my hands and feet under me. I’d dropped the phone and Volante. My ears rang and I couldn’t focus.

  My eyes fluttered closed and I forced them open. I called for Cole, my voice sounding weak and childlike.

  He didn’t hear me, and before I passed out, the shadows came for me.

  Chapter Eight

  When I woke, I had one hell of a headache. So bad, in fact, I whimpered when I tried to open my eyes. A little mew that sounded like a scrawny day-old kitten.

  How embarrassing.

  Smells accosted me. The warm wood smoke of Damon. The sharp acidic scent of Yasmin. The dead mouse smell of Kirill. I was back in my room at the Institute, drowning in Egyptian cotton sheets and a heavy blanket while my boss sat next to me on the bed and the other two Bridge Council directors stood staring down at me.

  Damon touched my arm. “Kali?”

  Forcing my eyes open, I pushed onto one elbow and a sharp pain attacked my frontal lobe. At the same time, the back of my head throbbed so hard, I thought it would explode right out of my skull. With another sickly whimper, I slid back down into the sheets and closed my eyes.

  “Where’s Cole?” The sound of my voice vibrated inside my head. This was the worst hangover I’d ever had. Only, being a demon, I never suffered from alcohol abuse and I couldn’t remember having a single drink, much less enough to cause this. But Cole’s absence sent alarm bells ringing in my head along with the throbbing. “Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine.” Damon touched my forehead. “Are you in pain?”

  Gee, ya think? “My head.” I wanted to lift my hand and rub my temples, but moving hurt too much.

  “What happened?” Yasmin’s voice rapped against my ears. “Cole said he found you passed out on the floor right after he called Damon.”

  “Don’t shout.” I peeled one eye open. She stood next to Damon, arms crossed, looking pissed off. Nothing new there. “I was hit in the head by something heavy. And really hard. I think. I’m a little hazy on details.”

  Damon glanced at Kirill. He frowned, shook his head.

  “Twice,” I emphasized, managing to lift one hand and point to the back of my head. Gingerly, I touched the spot at the base of my skull where the injury had occurred. There was no bump, no open gash or bleeding wound. Not even a tender spot. What the hell?

  The pain was all inside. And from the looks on the Council’s faces, they thought I was making it up.

  Damon’s brows pinched together. “Do you remember what you were doing before you were hit?”

  The details were a bit fuzzy, mostly because it was hard to concentrate on anything besides the throbbing. “Talking to a ghost. No, wait. I was talking to Chloe. She was upset. Something had happened…”

  Adrenaline fired through my system. Once again, I attempted to sit up. The pain increased, but I gritted my teeth and refused to give in. “I have to call her. She’ll think I blew her off again. And I need to call Di and Maddy, too. They’re all waiting for me.”

  Slow down. As his voice slipped into my head, Damon put a restraining hand on my shoulder. The fact he’d planted his Psuhke demon seed in me after my run-in with Nudra so he could read my mind and talk to me telepathically pissed me off. Tonight, however, his deep voice was soothing to my brain. The throbbing eased.

  Do that again.

  What?

  Talk to me. In my head. It feels good.

  His fingers settled against my temple. Never thought I’d hear you say that.

  Ahh…

  “What’s going on?” Yasmin pushed closer to Damon, pressing a hip against his shoulder as if to remind him she was there. “Are you doing that mental thing with her?”

  Kirill, already bored with the show, stalked to the room’s window seat. The sun had just started its morning rise, forcing back the dark December night. Could have been my wonky brain, but I thought I saw lightning flash in the distance, breaking into a dozen different white streaks over the gray waters of Lake Michigan. “What or who exactly do you think hit you in the head, Kali? The entity that killed Fielder? The ghost you were talking to?”

  Damon’s fingers were still massaging my temples. My demon purred contentedly. I closed my eyes and eased down deeper into the pillow, trying to recall who my attacker had been.

  Marvin had been hiding in the shadows, afraid to talk to me, and probably for good reason. Whatever had filleted Fielder’s internal organs might have still been in the building. I hadn’t felt it, but something had been there. Something strong enough to knock me out and not leave even a measly bruise.

  Maria. The thought surfaced without any help. But it can’t be.

  Maria? Damon’s fingers stopped working their delicious magic. My demon stopped purring.

  With one hand, I prompted him to continue massaging. Crazy, right?

  He sat back in the chair, taking his talented archdemon fingers with him. “You saw Maria?”

  “Maria, who?” Yasmin demanded.

  I sighed, opened my eyes. “I didn’t see Maria. I…felt her. Or something like her. Whatever killed Fielder was evil to the nth degree. Sick. Bloodthirsty. But it wasn’t feeding on the body. It fed on his fear, I think. On Marvin’s fear too. There was definitely a fine degree of torture exacted on Fielder before he died.”

  Kirill turned from the window. “Maria, huh? Interesting. Haven’t seen her in, oh, three-, four-hundred years?”

  “Because I killed her, Kirill. Cut her body into parts and burned them. Remember?”

  “Right, right.” He tapped a finger against his chin. “So who then?”

  I looked at Damon. So did the others. When in doubt, the boss was supposed to have the answer, right?

  Wrong. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen another demon like her.”

  Yasmin made a face. “I thought Queen Maria was half succubus, half human. Big deal.”

  Big deal? The half succubus, half human had forced me to torture and kill hundreds of humans and quite a few supes while I’d lived at her court between the ages of nine and seventeen. She’d brainwashed me into believing it was my nature to torture. When I rebelled because I’d fallen in love with Rad, she killed my family, sicced the Noctifectors on Rad, and would have killed me, too, if she could have.

  She took a nine-year-old demon from her earthly family and turned her into a weapon of mass destruction. I became the toughest vengeance demon on earth under her tutelage. And in the end, this WMD took her down.

  Maybe Damon’s fingers had done the trick or maybe it was the thoughts of Maria that got my adrenaline pumping, but my head stopped throbbing and started humming with determination. I had work to do. “The big deal is, Yasmin, if it is Maria in some new form, she’s coming after me, but a lot of innocent people will get hurt in the fallout. And if it isn’t Maria, we still have a major problem on our hands, because it’s just like her and that means it’s going feed on humans and supernaturals alike.”

  Damon rose from the bed, brushing past Yasmin. “I’ll go make some calls to the other Councils and see if they’ve noticed anything similar in their countries.”

  Councils existed all over the world in variou
s large cities. They were run by archdemons and employed demons like me and Cole to protect innocent humans from the supernatural bad guys, but their ranks were as thin as ours. Few demons care about humans beyond what humans provide—souls, blood, sex, money.

  Kirill followed on Damon’s heels. “I’ll see if breakfast is ready.”

  I flipped off the covers and sat up. Someone, hopefully Yasmin, had changed me into my pajamas before putting me to bed. My stomach tilted when I stood, but the previous evening’s meal stayed down. A low buzzing set up shop at the base of my skull.

  Yasmin looked me over and a mocking smile appeared. “Must have been something pretty powerful to knock the great Kali Sweet off her feet.”

  Snark was my go-to recourse, especially with Yasmin, but I had bigger things on my plate than verbal sparring with Damon’s groupie. “If it had been really powerful, it would have confronted me head on. And it would have lost.” I let my demon peek through my eyes as I met her gaze. Her eyes widened ever so slightly at my direct challenge. “There are very few things in this world that can knock me off my feet—” Radison Beaumont being one of them, “—but there is nothing that can keep me down.”

  Chapter Nine

  Cole caught up with me on my way out of the Institute. Morning had dawned with a temp in the low teens and a light snow fell from the overcast sky. Normally, I’d be going to bed for a full eight to twelve hours of sleep, but the three I’d had after getting knocked out would have to do.

  I’d managed a hot shower, a full breakfast and another short session with Damon’s fingers easing the last of the lingering pain in my head while he’d coached me on what to do if I came across anything that hinted at Maria. Too late. Everything I’d come across didn’t just hint at Maria, it screamed her name. But denial is a wicked strong force of nature and Damon was embracing it.

  So I’d tuned out his instructions while soaking up his healing magic and warm caressing bass voice. Meanwhile, I’d planned out my day. My first stop would be Chloe’s.