Текст книги "Fury of the Demon"
Автор книги: Diana Rowland
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 35 страниц)
Chapter 24
A weird tingling sensation rippled through me, jerking me out of a sound sleep. Fully awake, I assessed, realized it was wards I’d laid, triggering. I sat up and focused to determine which wards, dimly aware that it was still dark outside my bedroom window. A glance at my clock told me it was 4:13 a.m.
Another ripple. Jill’s place. I threw off the covers and pelted down the hallway, burst into the kitchen to find Jekki burbling softly by the table and Zack standing stone still, a knife poised over mushrooms on the cutting board.
He had wards at Jill’s house too, I remembered, and was no doubt assessing. I ducked into the utility room to grab jeans, t-shirt and sports bra out of the dryer, tugged them all on while I kept my eyes glued to Zack and waited for him to come out of it.
He finally exhaled, shoulders relaxing. “No immediate danger. No one’s on the property now.”
“What happened?” I demanded. “Do we need to go there? Or was it a new paperboy or something.”
“I don’t know what happened exactly,” he said. “There were two men. It was quick and on the periphery. They’re gone now.”
“I’m going,” I told him. “You coming with me?”
He gave a serious nod. “Give me a sec to get my gear. I’ll meet you at my car.”
I left him to get my own gear, found shoes, buckled on my gun and holster. I felt Mzatal awake and deep in his work with the mini-nexus, seeking Idris, and I asked Jekki to let him know what happened, and that I was going with Zack to check on Jill. He scurried out the back, and I went out the front to pace by the car. A moment later Zack came down the porch steps, phone in hand and expression stone cold.
I headed around to the passenger side of the car. “You don’t want her going out into something dangerous,” I said. “You should call her and tell her to stay inside.”
Zack slid smoothly into the driver’s seat and passed the phone over to me after I got in. “Make the call?” he asked, starting the car.
I found Jill’s number on his list, called and waited impatiently for her to answer.
“Zack?” she said muzzily.
“No, sugar muffin, it’s Kara. Your sweetie and I are on our way over because something pinged the wards we have around your house. And if you go outside to check, I swear I’ll string you up by your cute little ears. We’ll be there in about—” I was going to say twenty minutes, then took Zack’s demon-enhanced driving into account. “It’ll be about ten minutes.”
“Someone’s on my property?” she asked with alarm, all sleepiness gone from her voice.
“Zack says not anymore, but we don’t know if they left any surprises behind.” I double-checked to make sure my seatbelt was securely buckled as Zack hit the gas. “Stay put.”
“Shit. Okay, I’m getting dressed.”
“Stay inside!” I insisted.
“Did I say get dressed and go outside? Nope.”
I made a frantic grab for the oh-shit handle as Zack took a turn on two wheels. “Okay. Good. Call if you see or hear anythingweird.”
“You know I will,” she said and hung up.
I closed my eyes for part of the drive. I trusted Zack’s demon reflexes and senses, but that didn’t mean I needed to seehow close we came to obstacles, ditches, and other cars. I finally reopened them as we got near and kept a sharp eye out for anything unusual, but it was tough to see much.
Zack slowed, then pulled into her driveway. He cursed as the headlights passed over a suspicious lump on the lawn.
“That’s not good,” I muttered.
Zack backed up a bit and turned so the headlights lit the front yard fully. I scanned the area with normal vision and othersight, then un-holstered my gun and stepped out, gun at the ready position.
Zack exited the car at a more sedate pace. I noted his eyes flicking here and there, likely picking up information from his wards.
“We clear?” I murmured.
“All clear.”
I moved forward into the wash of the headlights, confirmed it was indeed a body on the lawn. White male, naked, probably in his early twenties, long and lean with little muscle tone. I stopped, shifted to othersight again and looked for any sign of arcane activity on the body. I remembered the near disaster with the arcane trap on the body of Idris’s sister, and didn’t want a repeat scenario.
Everything appeared normal, but that didn’t reassure me. “Zack, you see anything on it?”
“Hold on.” He moved up beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. An instant later a shimmer of blue and gold sprang up between us and the body, and with his free hand Zack lobbed a tightly coiled sigil. Upon contact with the victim it flashed in an expanding ring of light, then dissipated.
Zack exhaled, tension easing from him. “All clear. If there had been a trap, it would have triggered.”
“Gotcha,” I said. “Like throwing rocks into a minefield.”
“The analogy fits.” His hand dropped from my shoulder. “I didn’t detect the trap on Amber’s body, and I apologize for that. The rakkuhris alien and devious.”
“No apology needed, demon-man,” I told him with a reassuring smile.
Still with my gun at the ready, I cautiously moved forward then crouched. The victim lay twisted on the grass, partially on his back, his limbs in a haphazard tangle. Something rested on his chest and I eased closer, peered at it.
Sick nausea knotted my gut. A security company patch had been cut from a shirt and nailed to his left pec. Apex Security, a lesser branch of the StarFire company, reserved for more menial security details. Last time I’d seen one of their guards was—
Shit. I shifted my gaze to his face, but it was too battered to be recognizable. Then I saw how weirdly long his arms were in proportion to the rest of his body. “Sonofafuckingbitch,” I muttered. It was the security guard who’d shot Bryce.
I didn’t touch anything, stood and looked back over my shoulder. “Zack, you need to call this in,” I said, then shook my head. “No, Jill needs to call this in. That way we can say we’re here for moral support.” I glanced to the front window of the house, certain Jill was behind it, watching. I spread my pinky and thumb of my left hand, held it to my ear in the universal sign for making a phone call. With my right hand, I pointed to the body, held up three fingers then made a zero, confident she would know I meant a thirty, our area’s law enforcement code for a murder.
Zack snorted, and I glanced over to find him watching me in amusement. “I could just go tell her.”
I rolled my eyes. “And what would be the fun in that?”
“All righty then. Charades over?” he asked with a smile. “Looks like it worked. I can see her on the phone.” He moved up beside me. “What do we have?”
I peered down at the corpse. Deep ligature marks on the wrists, flesh flayed in gruesome strips on abdomen and legs, bruising on the torso, various ugly blotches in different locations as though he had been struck repeatedly with a blunt object. “It’s a goddamn message from Farouche,” I said in a tight voice. “He’s telling me this is what he can do, and that he knows where our friends are.” I shook my head, teeth clenched. “I’m getting really sick of bodies being used as messages. Don’t the fuckers have email?”
“Sure, but it doesn’t have the same uumph.”
Jill emerged from the front door, phone in hand. “What the hell?”
I moved to her. “It’s the security guard who shot Bryce.”
She stared at me. “Why would he be killed, and why would he be dumped here?” Her eyes went to the grotesque form on her lawn.
“Courtesy of J. M. Farouche,” I said, glowering. “He wants his people back. He wants me to know what he’s capable of, and that he knows where the people close to me live.”
“Shit.” She pressed close to Zack as he slid his arm around her. “Now what?”
I gave her a sweet smile “Now you move in with us willingly so that we don’t have to go through the hassle of kidnapping you.”
“Yep. That’s what.” Zack looked down at her, gave her a squeeze.
Jill drew a shaky breath, exhaled forcefully. “All right. All right. I get it.”
I heard sirens in the distance. “Okay, chick, you need to deal with the cops. And best not to mention Farouche.”
“What do I tell them?”
“Easy,” Zack said. “And it’s true, kind of. I couldn’t sleep and called you, we were talking. You heard a noise out front, looked out the window and saw the body. We came over for moral support.”
She eyed him dubiously, then shrugged. “Close enough. Let me at ’em,” she said and headed down the drive toward the street to meet the arriving units.
I stayed put, looked over at Zack. “I had a thought. Because you knowshe won’t want to stop working, despite how dangerous everything is now.”
Zack folded his arms across his chest, his eyes on me. “What’s your diabolical plan?”
“What if Jill had her own syraza bodyguard?”
Zack regarded me for a long moment. He drew breath and released it slowly. “It is certainly a possibility.”
“I was thinking of either Zimmek or Steeev.” Both syraza dwelt primarily in Mzatal’s realm, and I had a friendship-type relationship with each.
“Neither has spent time on Earth,” Zack noted. “Steeev is better suited. Far older.”
I smiled. “He has a good sense of humor too. I think Jill would like him.”
“Yes,” Zack agreed, his eyes on Jill and the cops. “I think he’d be amenable.”
“I should be able to do it sometime later today.”
“You’ll need to ask Mzatal about it first,” he said. “Let me go be all moral supportive for Jill.” He stepped off the porch and headed for Jill and the two cops.
I stared at his back, mildly unsettled by the instruction to ask Mzatal. Was it to ask his permission to summon the syraza? Or to give the syraza permission to come here? I shook my head. Best to wait and hear what Mzatal had to say before going too far down that path.
When the detective’s car pulled up, I headed that way. Pellini emerged, surveyed the scene. He looked over to me as I approached. “This one weird?”
I dodged the “weird” question. “I’m not here on official business,” I told him. “I came over to give Jill moral support.” I gave him the basic information, but left out our suspicion that Farouche was behind it. Until we had a handle on the Idris situation, I didn’t want anyone else stirring that hornet’s nest.
It took a few hours for the cops to finish their investigation and clear out. I hung with Jill while she packed and fretted about leaving her house, though she did finallyagree that it was for the best, especially with the baby. To my surprise she even called in sick. Hell, it wasn’t every day you could use dead-body-on-the-lawn as an excuse. Zack disappeared for a while, but came back as the last unit pulled away.
Zack and I drove back in his car, and Jill followed behind, having pointed out that she’d eventually need her vehicle for work. As we pulled up to the house, my gaze went first to the two pickup trucks, then to the brand new double-wide mobile home and the workers busy around it, about fifty yards from the house on the east side.
“Um, Zack?” I said, dragging my eyes from the sight to him. “It’s barely eight a.m. You had this ready and waiting, didn’t you.”
He glanced over, smiled innocently. “Did I?”
“Sneaky,” I said chuckling. “Jill will figure it out.”
“What’s wrong with being prepared?” he asked, wide eyed. “It’s not like I’d already moved it here or anything.”
“Right,” I said with a laugh. “That’s why they’re connecting plumbing and power that just happened to be running out by the woods.”
“Uh, it was put in earlier this morning?” he offered with a sheepish grin as he climbed out of the car. “I planned on putting an RV there and had the pipes and lines installed a month ago. I bought the mobile home yesterday, then scrambled people this morning for the installation. They still have a few more hours work, but I knew she’d be happier if it was in progress when she got here.” He paused. “Happi-er,” he emphasized, “not necessarily happy.”
“No,” I agreed. “But she’ll be okay. She knows the deal now, and if nothing else she’ll do it for the bean.”
“If that body had to be dumped, I’m not complaining about the location.”
“That’s the spirit!”
He snorted. “I’m going to go make sure everything’s in order, then I have to get to work.”
“Fun times.” I looked over at the mobile home and the deck being assembled in front of it. “Looks like a nice one. You did good, Zack.”
“With a little help from my friends.” He gave me a wink and a smile, then strolled off to prepare the nest for his sweetie.
Chapter 25
I left Zack to show off the mobile home to Jill, and headed into the house with breakfast on my mind, drawn by the delicious smell of something Jekki had cooking. I caught a glimpse of Bryce in the utility room as I entered the kitchen, ducked into the doorway and saw him gazing at the panel of our conventional security system. “Everything okay?”
Bryce winced as though he’d been caught overstepping guest prerogative and glanced over at me. “Should have asked before coming in here. Sorry.”
“It’s cool. I know you’re okay.” I peered at the panel I had yet to learn how to operate. “You know about this stuff from your work with StarFire? Anything wrong with how it’s configured?”
“Nope. Looks solid,” he said. “And Zack said there are also magic, er, arcane protections.”
“Around the whole perimeter and on the house.”
He nodded. “Only thing I’d like would be visuals on the fence.”
“We definitely want a surveillance system but haven’t had time to make a solid plan.” I tilted my head. “You interested in pulling together a concept for us?”
A broad smile lit his face, nicely breaking the tough-guy façade. “Sure! You have a budget?”
“How about you propose the best plan to adequately cover the property, and we’ll work from there.”
His brow creased. “You sure you’re okay with me working on this?”
“If you meant us any harm at all, I’d know by now,” I reassured him. “It’s cool.”
“Yeah,” he said, smiling wryly. “Can’t keep secrets around here, not with the lord.”
I glanced out the window to where Mzatal ceaselessly traced sigils and worked the flows of the mini-nexus in his search for Idris. “Not a chance,” I said with a low snort. “This will be a big help to us. Thanks. We need this place secure as possible.”
Bryce cleared his throat, took a breath as if to say something, then didn’t.
I frowned. “Something on your mind?”
“Yeah,” he said. “There is. You have a minute?”
“Sure. How about we leave the luxury of the utility room and go out on the back porch.” I headed for the door. “I have chairsthere ,plus I can keep an eye on Jill’s new place in case she or the workers need anything.” I could also intercept anyone who headed toward Mzatal, though I suspected he had aversion wards set. To those without the ability to see arcane flows, Mzatal would appear to be engaged in graceful movement akin to T’ai Chi.
Bryce followed me out, and we settled in the rocking chairs Ryan and Zack had assembled in my absence—after three years of the chairs’ remaining boxed and untouched in my shed. The heat and humidity were already rising, but for now it was still bearable enough to be outside.
When I looked over at him, he seemed distant, troubled. “Hey, you okay?”
“Nope,” he said, his face a grim mask. “Paul tracked what happened this morning. Did the body you find have prominent ligature marks on all limbs and neck, or only deep ones on wrists?”
I frowned. “Wrists only.”
He nodded. “Probably heavy bruising along the ribs under the arms on both sides and, if they were serious, flaying.” He delivered the description in an expressionless voice, eyes flat.
I regarded him. “You know who did this. I mean, specifically which one of Farouche’s people.”
“I’ve eaten lunch with him a hundred times.”
I controlled a shiver of ick. Bryce met my eyes. “Kara, before any more time passes, I need to make sure you know exactly who you have in your house.”
My brows lifted. “Did I miss a memo?”
He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “Yesterday, before the lightning show, I was in there talking to Jill, watched a movie with her and got a chance to feel her baby kick. Then it hit me.” His throat worked. “She’s a cop. If she knew what I am, she wouldn’t be anywhere near me, especially with the baby. And Ryan, Zack, you. All cops. You did right by me, and you deserve to know who . . . whatI am.”
I shifted to face him more. Mzatal had been with him for two days in the demon realm, and I knew Bryce wouldn’t be here now if he was any sort of a threat to us. But it was clear he needed to come clean, and I could totally respect that. “All right. Tell me who I have in my house.”
He took a deep breath. “About fifteen years ago I started in security and bodyguard duty with StarFire. Three years of clean work. Nothing that crossed any lines.” He looked away, then back to me, kept steady eye contact. “Twelve years ago I was . . . promoted. I’ve been over the line ever since.”
I noted that he left out the leap from Veterinary Medicine to security. “You’ve killed people?” I asked, purposefully keeping my face as expressionless as his and my tone even.
Bryce gave a micro nod worthy of Zack.
“How many?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Any of them in self-defense or defense of another?” Though the number shocked me, I kept my voice neutral.
“Yes.” He shifted his weight in the chair.
“Any of them straight up murder?”
He drew a breath and reverted from speech to the micro nod.
“Any of them outside of Farouche’s orders?”
He blinked then answered with a strong, “No.” Pain swept over his face, and he shook his head. “Shit. Yes. The first. An accidental shooting.”
I gave a neutral nod of acknowledgement. The roommate and friend, the one with the rottweiler. “Tell me about this promotion of yours.”
His eyes went barren, empty. “I went from StarFire to Mr. Farouche’s inner circle. The rules changed. I never looked back. Couldn’t look back.”
I gave my head a slight shake. “No. Tell me about it. Tell me how you were brought into his inner circle.” I held his eyes. “Tell me how you went from bodyguard to hit man.”
“I—” he began then stopped, drew back. His expression grew haunted as though recalling a nightmare.
Leaning closer, I softened my voice. “Bryce, take a deep breath and tell me.”
He took a deep breath. “Kara, it was ugly, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“Tell me.”
Bryce clenched and unclenched his hands, fell silent for several seconds, then nodded, as if encouraging himself to go on. “Mr. Farouche called three of us out to the plantation for a promotion interview,” he began. “Me, Sonny—who wasn’t much older than Paul is now—and Owen, a friend who I’d worked with on lots of assignments. We went to a room where Mr. Farouche and McDunn—the one with the MAC-10 on the road—waited. They had a coworker, Ben Freeman, strung up by the wrists and in bad shape. Farouche said Ben had screwed up in a big way, and it was the perfect opportunity for us to demonstrate our loyalty and take care of him.”
I pygahed to remain impassive.
“The deal was for each of us to stab him, with me delivering the killing blow to the heart. McDunn held a knife out for Owen.” Bryce paused and drew a shaky breath. “Owen went white as a sheet, said he didn’t want a promotion. Before the rest of us could even blink, McDunn drew a Beretta 96 and shot him point blank in the forehead.”
“Jesus,” I breathed. I tried to imagine being a street cop called in to the chief’s office along with some buddies and having one shot dead for refusing to murder a detective.
“Owen had barely hit the floor when McDunn turned to Sonny and offered the knife to him,” Bryce continued, voice growing more strained. “Sonny was about to bolt. I could feelit. And I knew he was dead if he did. I put my hand on his shoulder.” He looked away. “Damn it. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Go on,” I said softly. I had a feeling he’d never told this to anyone before.
After a moment, he gave himself another nod, looked back to me. “I knew that no matter what we did, Ben wasn’t walking out of there alive and, if we refused, neither were we. So I told Sonny to do it. I fucking told him to doit.”
“And then you took your turn?”
“Yeah.” His voice was bleak, and he didn’t elaborate.
I sat back, regarding him, absolutely dyinginside for what he’d gone through.
“In the space of about a minute,” he continued, “I’d not only killed a man—a friend and co-worker—without even knowing why, but I’d also set Sonny up for an ugly life. I still wake up at night wondering if it would’ve been better for him to take a bullet quick and easy that day.” He exhaled, shook his head. “But that’s hindsight. In the moment, I thought we’d do what they wanted then find a way to get the hell away from Farouche. I had no idea that wasn’t going to be a possibility.”
“Because of his influence, the fear and compulsion,” I said with an understanding nod. “I got a taste of that and was lucky enough to have friends to help clear it.”
“Right. I didn’t understand it either, not until Elofir and Mzatal fixed it,” he said. “You felt it. Farouche has a wayabout him. He knows things he shouldn’t, couldn’t. Once he brings someone into the inner circle, any thought of crossing him in any way brings up unnatural, paralyzing fear. That’s mainly the people who do or know about his wet work and other illicit activities. It’s not like that for the rest of his employees and associates. Most of them absolutely fucking love the guy. I mean, totally devoted.”
“Sounds like he can turn it both directions,” I said with a frown. “Gets his loyalty with fear or love.”
“Yeah, that sounds right. Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Now that his hold on me is gone, I look back and wonder how I could do what I did because of fear. I’m not afraid to die, but that motherfucker had me so terrified, I’d kill for him, executefor him.”
I’d seen him take a bullet for Paul. He wasn’t lying about not being afraid to die. “Sonny’s been with you since the beginning of all this. You and Paul are close to him.”
“Yeah.” Pain and regret shone in his eyes. “It’s hard on him. He’s a decent guy. I’d give anything to get him out of there.”
I had a feeling he’d lay down his life if it meant Sonny could be free of Farouche. He carried the responsibility for what Sonny was now. “After we get Idris, maybe we can help make that happen.” I met his eyes. “Bryce, what you went through was utter shit. I have no problem with you being in this house. Do you have any problem being here?”
His face grew hard, and I saw the killer in him plain as day. “Not unless you have a problem with me having one more mark on my hit list.”
“No problem at all.” I knew exactly who he meant.
“That’s dangerous thinking for a cop.”
“I’m not a cop anymore.” I pushed down the ache that rose at the reminder.
He gave me an oddly penetrating look. “Can you ever get away from being a cop, even if you aren’t carrying the badge?”
Bryce sure as hell wasn’t a meathead thug. “No, not really. Not having the badge is like losing a bit of me.” I batted a mosquito away. “It’s stupid, and I know I’ll get over it, but being a cop was as much a part of me as the summoning.” I paused, then shook my head. “No, it was more. A lot more. I belonged. I was part of something. I felt like I could make a difference as a cop.” I blew out my breath. “The summoning was just a super cool thing I did. There wasn’t any particular reasonbehind it. Not until last year. Then everything changed once Rhyzkahl made an appearance.”
He digested all of that, nodded. He looked calmer now, as if a weight had lifted from him. “Thanks for everything. And as long as we’re clear, I’m grateful to stay in your house.” His voice held a slight hitch. A lot of emotion lay beneath the tough guy exterior.
“Glad that’s settled.” I slapped my hands on my thighs. “C’mon. Let’s grab whatever Jekki has on the stove, fire up the game system, and kill some aliens.”
“You’re singing my tune,” he said with a smile.
